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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months

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Sanemi losing what is left of his patience when you get injured by a demon

Pairing: Sanemi x wife!reader

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: Despite the fact that your husband is the opposite of your quiet and kind self, you love him dearly while Sanemi treasures you in a purely unique way. But even though you learned to love his rough side the way it is, you can't stop tears from falling when your husband loses it after you get injured by a demon

Warning: this is THE angst to fluff y'all, Sanemi is a rough but soft boi I'm so weak for him in this fic omgomgomg, been listeing to again by noah cyrus and lana del rey while writing this, injury + angst + near death experience

this might be my favorite sanemi fic coming from my own hands so PLEASE if you feel the same, I'm super thankful for a lil like, comment or even reblog. THANK YOU SO MUCH 🤍

Oh, it was never easy, being the wife to none other than the wind hashira. When you’re quiet he’s noisy, when you’re put together he’s all over the place, while you act loving and kind Sanemi shows his devilish side.

But there was not once a day that made you second-guess your decision, not a single moment that made you feel something apart from deep affection for that man. It doesn’t matter that you are the opposite of him in each and every sense. He’s yours. And you’ll forever be his.

“Sanemi!”

Your oh so sweet voice echoes like a well-composed melody through his ears, makes him forget the wave of anger that washed over him earlier. Just seeing you standing there in the yukata he gifted you years ago while holding a dish with ohagi in your hands allows him to forget all the shit that happened for a brief second.

“Didn’t I tell you that you aren’t allowed to overwork yourself?”, he grumbles before sitting down opposite of you.

You look as good as always with your hair well-brushed and kind eyes lit by the down-going sun. What would his life look like if it didn’t contain of coming home to you? You, his only ray of sunshine. You, the only one who’s able to calm his temper down. Just you, his beloved wife. Who would have thought that out of all hashira, he’d be the one who treasures his wife the most?

“It’s not me who is overworked, but you. Did you get bruised again?”, you question with your melodic voice.

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“Will you stay home tonight?”

“I definitely hope so. If that crow disturbs my sleep again…”

“You have an important roll to fulfil, as a hashira-“

“’It’s my honor to bring peace to those who aren’t able to look out for themselves.’ Yeah, I already know.”

In contrary to his harsh tone, his fingertips caress your cheek gently while his eyes soften in an instant. It was hard, learning how to read him. When you first met, it was not uncommon that you broke out in tears after he talked to you like that. But now, after 4 years of getting to know him, you never lose your kind smile.

“How was your day?”, he continues.

With a swift motion, he pulls you between his legs and presses your head against his bare chest while his strong arms keep you in place. This are the moments that make your life worth living. Just you and your husband, arm in arm, watching the sunset in nothing but peace and silence.

“I enjoyed the nice weather while taking care of the garden. The tulips look exceptionally beautiful this season.”

“They’ll never be as beautiful as you, though”, he replies with low voice.

If life could stay like that. Oh, what you’d give to never let go of him again…

-later that night-

“Wind pillar, wind pillar! An emergency occurred! Countless demons were spotted nearby! The demon slayer corps need your assistance-“

“Can you just shut the fuck up”, Sanemi mumbles while pulling you closer sleep-drunken.

Immediately, you are wide awake. Nearby demons?

“Sanemi, you need to get up. What if someone gets injured?”, you whisper into the dark night.

“So what?”

You stare at him through the veil of darkness, not daring to say another word. He will get up eventually. He always does.

“Urgh, fine…Time to kill some demons, then”, he finally grumbles and drags himself away from you in order to put on his uniform.

“You stay here until I get back. Even if our estate is build pretty safe and I’ll rip off the heads of the demons around first, I don’t want you to be out there on your own. Got it?”, he instructs you before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead like he always does.

“I will. Please be careful and watch out for yourself”, you whimper.

It’s a challenge to let go of him each and every night he is forced to leave. He might be a hashira, but what if he doesn’t return by sunrise some day? What if he meets an upper-ranked demon unexpectedly? Just when he’s about to leave, you grab his hand one last time.

“And don’t act reckless”, you add.

No matter how much it hurts to let go of his hand, you know you have no other choice. This is the life you chose, the price you have to pay in order to call that wonderful man your beloved husband.

“I can never promise you that”, he replies before leaving you alone in the now cold and awkwardly dark room.

Everything will turn out alright. It just has to…

You don’t know how long you’ve been awake already. Minutes? Hours? All you’re able to do is stare at the ceiling above, ears perking up with every minor movement of the trees outside. Surely, Sanemi will return soon. Being the skilled fighter he is, it normally takes him at most two hours until he returns with his sheets still a little warm. But aren’t those two hours over already?

Another noise outside catches your attention. Is it a tree again? You furrow your eyebrows, immediately sitting up straight while staring outside the window. No, this almost sounds like the whimpers of a child. A child outside at this hour?

You swallow hard. A child outside when there are demons reported around this area?

“P-please, someone help me! I-I’m so s-scared!”

Your heart drops to the floor. There is no doubt in the fact that this has to be a child. Your mind starts racing back and forth. It would be absolutely unacceptable to leave that poor soul out on its own, especially when you can’t know if the area is really free of demons. But on the other hand…You bite your lip when your husband’s words replay themselves in your head.

“No matter what happens when I’m gone. Don’t. Go. Out. On. Your. Own. At. Night. Need me to spell it, (y/n)? Never ever, not in a million years. Got it?”

Not under any circumstances. Your husband made that very clear countless times. But does that include a helpless child outside your estate in the middle of the night? You aren’t a fighter like Sanemi is, even refused to keep an emergency katana in the house just in case. There is no way you could harm a single soul, not even a demon. Leaving a child outside in the middle of the night…isn’t that just as unforgivable?

Sanemi said that he’ll take care of the demons around first. That means you’re safe, right? But even if that poor child doesn’t face danger in the form of a demon, it will certainly freeze with that cold breeze rushing over the land these days.

“P-please, is someone there? I’m s-so tired and s-so cold…I…I can’t walk anymore…”

Your heart aches with every word. No matter how much value the promise you made towards your husband holds in your heart, you simply can’t stand the thought of ignoring an innocent little child that needs your help.

“Why are you out there all on your own, where are your parents?”, you shout into the darkness of your home while making your way to the door.

Is it really okay, breaking the promise you’ve made like that? You grab the handle of the door tightly. This might be the only time you’re actually useful. Without any skills apart from cooking, you can only watch from the side-lines how the demon slayer corps save the world. Maybe this is your chance to do a little something as well, your chance to actually be helpful.

You swing your door open while holding your breath.

“Where are you? Let’s get you inside and grab a warm tea, okay? You must be freezing”, you speak out gently, eyes scanning the garden for the little figure.

“I’m right here!”, the innocent voice cries out to your right.

Instantly, you pick up your pace and sprint towards the tiny figure lying in the grass. Oh no, you can’t imagine what this little child has been through, how it even got here. Did it get lost in the woods and failed to return before the night came? You’ll have to prepare a guestroom right away, just after inviting this little one in-

“Foolish woman.”

Time stands still, your glossy orbs starts to tremble when the tiny figure in front of you starts to build itself up, grows taller and taller until it surpasses your own height by multiple inches. This…this isn’t a child.

Your eyes widen in sheer horror, blood rushing through your ears so violently that you feel like fainting any given minute after it strucks you like lighting.

You were tricked by a demon. After Sanemi warned you over and over, you fell for the lousy trick of a demon. Out of instinct you start stumbling backwards, glossy eyes darted towards the horrific creature with bright red eyes and fangs bigger than your own head.

“I waited patiently until that demon slayer was gone. A young and beautiful woman like you sure tastes nice. Now that I’m seeing you fully, you were definitely worth the wait. I’m sure your flesh tastes excellent.”

Your blood freezes in your veins. Is this really how your life will come to an end? Because you didn’t listen to your husband, because you wanted to be somehow useful? How will Sanemi react, finding out that you were killed? Suddenly your legs threaten to give in and force you to come to a stand. It’s not like you’d be able to defend yourself in any kind of way when all you ever did was taking care of Sanemi and your imaginary perfect life.

A perfect life, ruined by one night of carelessness.

His face flashes in front of your inner eyes, the kind smile he always wore when he didn’t know you were watching. Despite the flaws others see in him, his hot temper and the way he treats his little brother, you are head over heels for him. Your husband, your everything, your Sanemi. A perfect little marriage, ruined by you.

“Don’t”, you hush into the night like the fool you’re are.

“How much I love hearing you little women beg not to get killed. Music in my ears!”

He dashes towards, ready to slice your throat open single-handed. Out of instinct, you let yourself fall backwards into the wet grass, watching how his claws brush over your forehead with enough force to discolour your vision red.

“Nice moves. You seem really healthy. That’s actually even better”, the demon purrs.

This is it. Your final moment on this earth, killed through the hands of a demon in your own well-groomed garden. You never imagined it all to go down like this, not when you’re still so young and full of love.

You didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye, to tell Sanemi one final time how much you adore him and that you’ll love him through everything. Will he be okay? The man who lost almost everything, who has to live with a burden heavier than earth itself balanced on his strong shoulders. This…this will break him even more.

“Any last words?”, the demon jeers at you.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. No, there is nothing this creature deserves to hear from you, not even a single scream will escape your lips. You rest your lids, picture his oh so gorgeous face in front of your inner eye. If you only had more time, if you only listened. Your beloved marriage, vanishing in thin air.

“I’m sorry Sanemi. I’m so so sorry…”

When will it be over?

“Touch her and you’ll die.”

What...No, this is impossible, you have to be dreaming-

“Or nah, you’ll die anyway.”

The urge to open your eyes again becomes unbearable.

Your heart skips a beat. Instead of getting greeted by the claws of the demon, you’re able to read it very clearly.

“Destroy.”

This back, so familiar broad…

“Sanemi?”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay inside the house?”, he barks over his shoulder.

It happens faster than your eyes are able to follow. One high jump, one slash of his sword and the demon’s head falls onto the soft grass in front of you. Immediately, you are surrounded by dust rising towards the moon.

“What were you even thinking?”

Before you’re even able to feel relieved your husband storms towards you, not a single spark of affection gleaming in his furious eyes.

“You promised over and over”, he screams on top of his lungs.

“I’m-“

“And you fucking lied into my face!”

Roughly, he grabs your Yukata with both hands and yanks your throbbing figure towards him.

“I’m so-“

“Is all of this a joke to you? Don’t you trust your husband enough to do as you’re told!? You’ve had this one job, that one fucking job to stay inside the house!”

“Sanemi, I-“

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? Did you really want to die right here?”

“Sanemi…”

You breathe his name into the night with strangled voice, tears now streaming down your face like a waterfall. You made a reckless mistake, but none of this happened because you wanted to hurt him. His words, his furious gaze, his hardened eyes so venomous that you have to look away dig themselves like knives into your already fragile heart and simply take your breath away. Out of all feelings, your husband is livid at you.

“I…I’m sorry”, you finally press out.

“You could have died, (y/n). You know that?”

He pulls you towards himself even harder, his hands fisting the fabric of your yukata so tightly that you fear he might rip it.

“You could have died and I couldn’t have done a single fucking thing. Losing you…Fuck!”

He yanks your chin upwards with one hand, forces you to look at him through your wet lashes. But you aren’t greeted by his stone-cold glare. No, are those…tears shimmering in his orbs? What’s left of your heart breaks in an instant.

“I can’t lose you. Not you, not the love of my life. Not another loved one. I couldn’t fucking stand this shitty world without you by my side. How many times did I tell you to stay inside the house when I’m gone at night?”, he screams at you.

“I-I’m sorry”, you hush through shaky lips.

“You’re my everything. Fuck, I love you so much…Losing you like that…”

The next second you find yourself devoured in his strong arms, holding you pressed against his chest so tightly that you can feel his heart pounding.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, (y/n). Never”, he mutters into your hair while caressing your bloody hair.

“I’m sorry”, you mumble again.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Are you hurt? You’re bleeding, goddamn. Let’s get you inside, this needs to get stitched up.”

You don’t dare to contradict, allowing him to carry you back into safety with your arms cramped around his neck.

You’re safe. Sanemi is absolutely furious with you, but the worry in his eyes, the gleam…You bury your head inside his uniform, desperately trying to escape your own foolishness. None of this would have happened if you just stayed inside like he told you. If you were smart enough…

“How did he get you outside?”, Sanemi finally breaks the silence while cleaning your wound.

“He played a scared and lost child”, you mumble.

“Huh, what I thought. You’d never break a promise over nothing”, Sanemi replies, his voice a little softer than before.

“I know you tried to help, but never to shit like that again. When I saw you lying there and your blood on the grass, I almost died. You’re my everything, my wife. I can’t lose you because of a demon, you hear me? I was so damn worried about you…”

“I just wanted to do something…useful…”

“Useful? Are you too dumb to see how useful you are?”, he bites back.

Sanemi stops barking at you immediately after seeing how glossy your eyes turn all over again. No matter how fucking mad he is right now, he can’t hurt you any further. It’s clear you acted out of the right motives, he shouldn’t scream at you like that. Especially since you almost died tonight. Not his wife, not when you’re everything he has.

“I treasure you more than everything else in this world. You’re the reason I’m still believing there’s something good left here. Don’t you dare to risk your important life like that again, got it?”, he gently continues before caressing your cheek the way you love so much.

“I never wanted to cause you this much trouble. I…I was acting dumb…”, you mutter, intertwining your fingers with his.

“We’re all a little dumb from time to time, yeah? Let’s go back to sleep, that was more than enough for one night.”

You don’t hesitate when he pulls you along into the oh so inviting sheets. With him by your side, they definitely feel way more inviting. With him by your side, you don’t have to fear a single nightmare haunting you down this frightful night.

“At least I’m having an excuse now for a day off tomorrow. I love you, (y/n). So so much”, Sanemi mumbles into your hair, holding you so comforting against his chest that sleep washes over you almost immediately.

“I love you too, Sanemi…”

There is no doubt in the fact that Sanemi held you even closer each and every night after almost losing you through the hands of a demon.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @skeleton-the-gangser (reader isn't pregnant in that one, but the vibe is the same as with the Yoriichi fic you enjoyed)

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redroses07 · 1 month

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The Umbrella Academy Season 4 Fix It Fic // Five Hargreeves x Reader Edition

WC: 3.1k

CW: Canon accurate violence, swearing, kissing, use of Y/N, Y/N is a bad ass, domestic fluff, angsty af.

Summary: A Five x Fem!Reader rewrite for the end of season four because I absolutely hated the ending. Five and Lila are not a thing in this fic, because that made me literally gag.

A/N: Hey luvs! I worked my ass off writing this fic because I needed to have a better ending for season four. In my mind this fic is canon. I hope y'all like it because I truly love how it turned out! Have an amazing day and enjoy! - Claire ♡

Five sat on the empty train, riding round in aimless circles. He had no intention of ever stopping. Perhaps he would die here, if death was even possible in this endless void. There was no reason for him to continue, they were out of options.

All he wanted to do was save his family, save you, but he couldn't even do that. At least this way he could escape having to witness the end of their lives.

He couldn't help but feel as if this was all his fault, if only he had listened to Reginald when he told him never to time travel. So much pain, so many lost lives, it never would have happened.

Five looked out the window, he didn't know what exactly for. Everything looked the same. Round and Round again, each identical station feels more hopeless than the last.

After an immeasurable amount of time, days? years? who knows. Something caught Five's eye.

He jumped up from his seat, following the dark figure out into the station.

Was that? No.

"Hey, wait!" Five shouted, chasing him down a staircase.

He rounded a corner, seeing a dimly lit cafe filled with all too familiar faces. The place was filled with several alternate versions of Five himself. It was an odd feeling for him to see himself this way.

Nonetheless, he took a seat across from the Five he had followed.

No more than ten seconds later, another Five served up two pastrami sandwiches. Five number two began to complain about the amount of sauerkraut on his sandwich, staring intently at the meal.

"What is this place?" Five asked, reaching for the cup of hot coffee next to him.

"It's a gas station. What the hell does it look like? It's a Deli." He could see that the alternate Five share his love of sarcasm.

He went on to explain how this was a place where all of the Five's from alternate timelines end up while trying to fix the "broken timeline" issue.

"Okay, so what shattered the original timeline?" Five asked.

"Not what. Who? I'll give you three guesses." Alternate Five held up three fingers.

"We did!" Another Five yelled.

Five wasn't surprised, everything always seemed to be caused by him.

"By we, do you mean my siblings?" Five asked.

"Yep, the morons."

Five rolled his eyes.

"When we come into existence, the timeline is shattered, and then we're stuck trying to save the world. How many times was it again?"

"145,412."

The number seemed almost impossible to fathom, but the more alternate realities, the more opportunity for the world to end. Alternate Five pointed at the wall, which was filled with every possible way the world had ended. Viktor's attempt at blowing up the moon was front and center. Seeing it gave Five an unpleasant sense of nostalgia.

Five came to realize that the commission was created by an alternate Five in an attempt to fix the timeline, but it was never successful since the Hargreeves siblings were the root of the problem.

"I have to get back." Five turned, rushing out the door. He heard the alternate versions of himself begin to speak, but his overwhelming thoughts drowned it out.

Five ran as fast as he could, getting back on the train and returning to his rightful place. With his family.

As Five entered the abandoned shell of his former home, the room's occupants turned to look at him.

The first person he noticed was you. You watched him with sad eyes, eyes he thought he would never have to gaze into again. Yet here he was, and undeniably, he had a plan.

You watched Five scan the room. Dark hair hung in front of his eyes, his chest heaved from running, or perhaps from anxiety.

"I didn't think you'd be back." You purse your lips, giving him a sour look. '

Facing your bitterness was the hardest part of all this for Five. Of course you had every right to feel that way, he had just up and left you. Although, in his mind that was better than having to watch you die.

"Yeah, neither did I." Five muttered.

Everyone looked at him, obviously awaiting an explanation.

"We caused this." Five began.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Alison sighed.

You stared at Five intently, wondering what had changed since he decided to ditch you and everyone else.

"The marigold that infected our mothers bringing forth our births had a side effect, it fractured the timeline, bringing forth the end of the world."

Five looked from person to person, attempting to read everyone's emotions. They were unreadable.

"Extracting the marigold from our bodies is the only way to stop the cleanse, and in short, fix the timeline."

Silence settled over the room. You weren't born with marigold as the Hargreeves were, but due to Ben's antics, this now concerns you too.

"Okay, but how exactly do we do that?" Diego asked.

Five looked over to Viktor.

"Viktor, you can use your powers to extract the Marigold from our bodies. Unfortunately Ben and Jennifer are too far gone to be saved, but their sacrifice will have been for the greater good."

Viktor let out an elongated sigh, and with little to no hesitation, he agreed.

"Okay, let's get moving before it's too late." Viktor said, speeding out of the room.

You followed closely behind, trying your hardest to avoid Five's gaze.

"Y/N, I-" You cut him off, this was not the time to be talking about all the mistakes he had made. Even if those mistakes led to the answer for all your troubles, they were still mistakes.

"We can talk about this later, if there is one."

Five sighed and watched you exit the room, not even bothering to look his way. He had fucked up big time.

You watched Viktor head towards the monster that was Ben and Jennifer. The creature growled, as it hurdled towards your group.

You turned back as you felt someone grab your arm, Five was standing behind you. You saw something in him that you had only seen a few times before, fear.

"Please. If we don't make it through this I want to make sure we're okay." Five begged for your forgiveness.

In any other circumstance you would not have given in this easily, but the dire situation has just begun to settle in. This could be it.

Neither of you wanted to leave this world with so many words unsaid.

Your gaze softened, and you followed Five away from the other Hargreeve's.

"I know what I did was wrong. With every bone in my body I feel that it was wrong."

He spoke loudly enough to drown out the oncoming chaos, but softly enough to omit any sort of aggression.

Five reached for your hands, and you reluctantly let him take them.

Five paused for a moment, trying to find the words that would mean the most, considering he was dealing with limited time.

"My worst fear is to see you suffer, and at the time, running away seemed like my only escape. I feel like I've already caused so much hardship in your life, and the thought of any more terrified me." His eyes stayed glued to you.

Five was the whole reason you had joined The Commission to begin with. He helped you to believe in a cause that you otherwise wouldn't have, and the two of you hadn't left each other's side since.

You didn't regret it per say, but you couldn't deny that you often wished for a different life. You would never blame any of your circumstances on Five though, and you hated how he always chose to blame himself.

"Nothing that has happened to me, or to anyone, is your fault. I think all of us share some responsibility, but blaming yourself is just wrong." You squeezed Five's clammy hands.

Five let out a sigh of relief as he was able to recognize forgiveness in your eyes.

"I love you." He said, fighting the tears that began to form in the corners of his eyes. The phrase was reserved only for you, as it is a concept that has always been hard for five.

Growing up with Reginald as a father, and a family that could win an Olympic gold medal in dysfunctionality, Five didn't exactly have a positive outlook on love.

"I love you too. We've been through worse, we'll get through this too."

Five pulled you into a tight hug, breathing you in as if it was the last chance he would ever get to hold you. The two of you were versed in the end of the world, this was not the first final hug you had shared. Five placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, and he didn't miss the small cry that escaped your lips.

You rarely cried, and when you did it was always around Five. He was the only person you felt comfortable enough with to show vulnerability. It was the perfect moment, and the past few days had worn down your patience. You reluctantly let a few tears slip loose.

"Get your asses over here love birds, Ben is here." Diego called from the other side of the room.

You and Five exchanged a look before running over to the center of the room and rejoining your family.

Ben growled ferociously, the red goo that dripped from his body falling around the room.

"Just so you guys know, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. So if we all die, I apologize in advance." Viktor said, clenching his fists on either side.

His newly improved orange power began to swirl around his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, clearly focusing on the task at hand.

You reached for Five's hand, interlocking your fingers with his. If these were to be your last moments, you wanted to make sure he was with you.

Five gripped your hand with everything he had in him, every bit of strength was to remind you of his presence.

With each moment that passed, the colorful plume of Viktor's powers grew, encasing not only Ben and Jennifer, but all of you.

You and Five watched as the all too familiar gold marigold specks began to float through the air. It felt odd, it didn't hurt, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant feeling. It was like your whole body was being poked by a prickly cactus.

The air turned cold, and all other sounds were overcome by the rumbling of Viktor's power.

An unbearable wave of exhaustion washed over you, and it became hard for you to keep your eyes open.

You looked over at Five, making eye contact with him one last time. He gave you his signature smirk, funny how in spite of everything he could still be himself.

The last thing you saw was Ben falling to the floor, the marigold protruding from him filling the whole room with a deep yellow glow.

And just like that, the world turned black.

· · ─────── ·☂· ─────── · ☂ · ─────── ·☂· ─────── · ·

Five opened his eyes, the bright light of day overwhelming his vision. The ground beneath him was soft, the tall grass tickling his fingertips.

Five sat up slowly, his eyes adjusting to the sun. He looked over next to him, and there you were. Just as you had always been, right by his side. Your chest rose slowly, a thankful sign that you were still alive.

Five looked beyond you, to see his siblings all scattered around the lawn. They were all exactly where they had been before the blackout. The empty patch of grass, of course, was where the Hargreeve's mansion used to stand.

Without the existence of their powers, The Umbrella Academy was never formed. It was strange, to know that what Five remembered, no one else did. It was like waking up from a strange dream.

However, one thing was missing, Ben. And of course Jennifer. Five wasn't surprised that they hadn't made it, considering how their bodies were overtaken.

Five watched as his siblings slowly began to rise from their temporary comas, their eyes heavy and glazed over.

Five nudged you slightly. Unable to wait for you to wake, wanting to share this beautiful moment with you.

You opened your eyes and felt as if you had awoken from a decades long slumber. The first thing you saw was Five next to you, a genuine smile on his face. That was something you had missed.

"Are we in heaven?" Klaus mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Well if this was heaven, I'd be awfully disappointed." Lila replied.

You laughed to yourself, and stood up on wobbly legs.

You all had done it.

"Viktor. I think you might have just saved the world." Luther announced.

Viktor smiled and looked down, maybe eventually he'd let himself take the credit.

You began to take in your surroundings. The sound of traffic in the distance, the wind stinging your cheek, the smell of spring air. It was all so normal.

"Guys, where's Ben?" Klaus asked, and your heart dropped.

"Klaus...we all knew he probably wouldn't make it.." Alison said sadly.

Just then, something caught your eye. Something yellow that stuck out in the patch of green.

"Guys, look!" You pointed at the unique plant.

"Marigolds." Five said softly, and you felt his hand close around yours.

Two beautiful yellow flowers sprouted from the earth, a reminder of what was sacrificed. A reminder of what had to happen for all of this to exist, and a symbol of hope.

~~ Two Years Later ~~

You awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside your window, a song that was often your wake-up call. You rolled over to see Five sleeping peacefully next to you. You weren't surprised. He always slept late, after all, he was an old man at heart.

It had been two years of living freely in the new timeline. You and Five now share an apartment next to Lila and Diego and their three kids.

Life wasn't without its challenges, but compared to everything else the two of you had been through this was paradise.

Viktor had started his own Cafe, a small shop on a street corner that had quickly become a local favorite.

Alison had landed a big movie role not long after everything returned to normal. Ever since it hit the big screen, she had no problem with job offers. She didn't even miss her power of persuasion.

Klaus still lives with Alison. He doesn't really do anything specific, he often refers to himself as 'self-employed'. But he was happy, and that was all that really mattered.

Luther had somehow reconnected with Sloane, who had re-appeared after the timeline was fixed. Of course she didn't remember anything, but it must've been fate because they got to fall in love all over again.

Diego decided to put his skills acquired from his power to use and now taught axe throwing classes.

Lila had decided to help people who had ended up in a mental hospital, similar to how she had. She was working on getting her degree in psychology.

As for you and Five. Five kept his CIA job, and you decided to join him in his career. As the two of you had always done everything together, why not this too?

You felt Five stir next to you, letting out a series of groans. He slowly opened his eyes, a smile spreading across his face the moment he saw you.

"Good morning, beautiful." His morning voice is thick and deep.

"I love you." You whispered, pushing his messy hair out of his eyes.

Five leaned up to kiss you but you counteracted it by jumping out of bed. You pulled the blanket off of him and he whined in protest.

"Time to get up, Gramps, Lila wants us to drive the kids to school today."

Five rolled his eyes at the nickname. You snickered and kissed him on the cheek before heading to the bathroom to get ready.

After the two of you grabbed breakfast, you met Lila outside, Grace and the twins behind her.

"Thank you again for helping us out with this, I don't know how I'd ever get to work on time without you." Lila gave you a quick hug.

"Of course, whatever you need." You ushered her away, signaling that you could take it from here.

You were used to driving the kids places, and they always said you were their favorite aunt. Five however, could not surpass Klaus for favorite uncle.

"Alright guys, who's ready for school?" You said as you jumped in the driver's seat.

There was a chorus of enthusiastic cheers from the back, and you laughed.

"I was never that excited about school when I was your age." The kids had no idea how long ago that actually was for you.

You made sure to put on some kid friendly music, anything but Baby Shark. You dropped the kids off and made sure they all got inside safely.

"Anything else on the schedule for today?" Five asked you.

"Nope, we're both off today so I think the rest of our day is free."

"Great, we should do absolutely nothing." Five's eyes lit up with excitement.

You nodded in agreement and drove towards your home.

Once you arrived, the both of you threw on pajamas and cuddled up in bed. Five flung his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder, simultaneously letting out a big sigh.

"I love you." He mumbled in your ear.

Even after all these years he still made you blush every time he said those three little words.

"I love you more." You pressed a kiss to Five's nose and he scrunched it up before responding with a chaste kiss to your lips.

After breaking apart you and Five settled into each other's arms, excited to spend a calm day together.

He reached for the remote and flicked on the TV. The small kiss he placed on your forehead didn't go unnoticed.

As Five settled into this new life, he found it hard not to expect a new life altering crisis to pop up at any moment. But it never did.

As the day dragged on, nothing out of the ordinary happened; and you could almost say that it was an ordinary day.

Taglist: @xreader-writing @dorkyfangirl24 @dinorawrss @anne-oop @ladynaviamin @i-amtrash @patchesofdreams @sarbear33 @marinalor

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endless-ineffabilities · 22 days

Text

Chemical Override (bonus chapter 4) - Above The Gods Eye

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: I had envisioned bonus chapters as not too integral to the main plot (as in, you will be able to follow the story without reading them), but this one... this one might just count.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

A series of moments from the vault, occurring in part eight of the story, now yours to enjoy. 🤍

The one with the second sons…

The photoshoot has wrapped, and the cast of House of the Dragon has drifted into all corners of the set, exchanging laughs in between much-needed sips of caffeine. The next item on Entertainment Weekly’s agenda is the video segment recordings, pairing cast members for various games and interviews.

Fabien and Freddie finished their narrative recap of season 2, with more jokes than actual informative recaps. Harry and Bethany played a game where they guessed whether the line is from House of the Dragon or Game of Thrones. Tom and Emma played a ‘which sibling' game, leaning into the dynamic between Aegon and Rhaenyra that clearly should have been explored in previous seasons.

As it happens, Matt and Ewan are paired up for an Aemond or Daemon game, meant to give the audiences a glimpse of what to look forward to. Their notorious rivalry, culminating in a battle that will be their last.

The two film their segment in Studio E, the set consisting of the great cellar of the Red Keep where Balerion’s massive skull looms on a pedestal. The dozens of candles surrounding it have been lit, casting dramatic shadows as they take their seats, facing each other in what could easily be mistaken for the start of a duel.

“My name is Ewan Mitchell and I play Aemond Targaryen,” Ewan starts.

“And I’m Matt and I play the Daemon Targaryen,” Matt follows. “And we’re about to play Second Sons: Aemond vs Daemon.”

“Let’s go,” Ewan rolls his shoulders, his sense of competitiveness all fired up, intensified by the fact that the man in front of him potentially could become his rival off-screen. That is, when it concerns the battle for your affections.

He can still hear it ringing in his ears, the sound of your laughter in the background, distracting him during the photoshoot. That laugh, so addictive, so yours, was a melody he could listen to forever - except when it’s Matt Smith who’s the culprit.

The lads take their cue to read the first prompt displayed on a screen above the camera. The game begins.

“Who is the better swordsman?” Matt reads aloud with a smirk. “Well, that’s obviously Daemon, mate. He’s older - ”

“Age doesn’t always mean better,” Ewan counters smoothly.

“Ah, but he’s battle-tested. He fought in the Stepstones, and was the Commander of the City Watch, for heaven’s sake. What’s Aemond got?”

“Aemond spent years and years training with Criston Cole in the Red Keep yard, honing his skill,” Ewan argues. “He clearly has the dedication. He’s disciplined.”

“Training,” Matt scoffs, turning to the camera as if sharing an inside joke. “Put Aemond out there in a real battle, then we’ll talk.”

“Alright, alright,” Ewan concedes, biting his cheek to keep from saying more. “Next one. Who’s the better dancer at the royal ball?”

Matt can’t help but chuckle, “Neither of us are inclined to - ”

“Yeah, I don’t know.”

“But if we had to pick, then I'd say Daemon. We saw him dancing in the first season, didn’t we?”

“I don’t think Aemond would be much of a dancer,” Ewan says, before adding with a smirk to the camera, “unless it’s with Vhagar.”

“Oh, yeah?” Matt asks him. “Short of dancing partners, is he? Can’t say I’ve got that problem. I’ve got Rhaenyra, I’ve got my daughters, and of course, the lovely Alyna.” His voice drops at the mention of your character, and he notices a telling flicker in Ewan’s expression. The younger boy latches on to it, hook, line and sinker.

Ewan’s brows scrunch, not missing the bait. “Oh, she wouldn’t dance with you,” flies out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

“Alyna wouldn’t?” Matt tilts his head, feigning hurt.

“She’s… she’s too busy fighting the war,” Ewan quickly musters. “She’s got better things to do.”

“Mate, I think we all are. But that wasn’t the question.”

“I just don’t think she - ”

“She’ll dance with Daemon,” Matt says confidently. “Once she realises how good he is, then it’s game over.”

“I disagree,” Ewan easily says to the camera, willing the viewers to side with him.

“Next,” Matt continues, “Who’s more likely to get into a fight at the tavern? Is this… so far, it's been all Daemon! This one too.”

Ewan nods, but adds slyly, “Aemond’s not one to waste his time at the tavern, no.” His answer is an apparent concession to Daemon, until he adds, “which is why Alyna would prefer to spend her time with him. He’s calmer… more reliable… no unnecessary tavern brawls or anything…”

“Calmer, mate?” Matt rolls his eyes, chuckling to himself. “Come off it, yeah?”

“Compared to Daemon, he clearly is.”

“He killed Luke and Rhaenys!”

“That was an accident,” Ewan shrugs. “He feels bad for it.”

“Alyna better steer clear,” Matt points to the camera, making his point.

Ewan shakes his head in protest, “I don’t agree.”

“So, for this one, again, it’s Daemon,” Matt finishes.

Ewan lets it go, the Alyna comment lingering in the back of his mind. It didn’t seem like an Alyna reference; it felt like a message to you. His stomach twists, suspicious of the other game Matt seems to be playing at. Turning to the prompter, Ewan reads, “Who’s got… the better hair care routine? Oh wow.”

“Daemon’s been at some dingy castle,” Matt says, “clearly no showers there. Forget it.”

“Aemond’s got this locked down,” Ewan grins.

“Has he? Alright then,” Matt responds, amused. “He does have that pin-straight hair, doesn’t he? It’s almost like… well it’s almost like it’s a bloody wig!” He laughs, and some of the onlookers behind the camera mirror the sentiment.

“I did read somewhere about Aemond having a 20-step hair care routine… ”

“20 steps? Blimey, mate. I’m surprised he even makes it out the door,” Matt says. “Would you say he’s got better hair than the women on the show? Than Alicent or Alyna maybe?”

“Oh,” Ewan leans back, mulling it over. How to one-up Matt without making it seem too obvious? He’s about to respond, when he hears some soft giggling in the corner. It appears that you’ve made your way into Studio E with Phia and Liv. The sound came from Phia, who gives him a thumbs up when she notices his diverted attention.

Matt notices your presence too, and when the director waves a hand for them to carry on, he answers for Ewan, “We could say Aemond has the better hair. Alyna’s way too busy training with Daemon anyway. We do tend to get into that rough and tumble during our sword fights.”

“Mmm,” Ewan narrows his eyes. He then ignores or conveniently forgets the fact that it’s Matt's turn to read the next question. “Who’s more likely to fight a dragon for their lover?”

The two men lock eyes, the air between them charged, more so due to your appearance. If a rivalry is what the viewers expect, then that is what they’ll get.

Matt puts a hand up. “I think Daemon’s the one with the guts to fight a bloody dragon. Daemon will stand against anything and anyone. Without a doubt.”

“It’s different with him, though, isn’t it?” Ewan responds. “Daemon would be doing it for the glory. He’d be doing it for himself. Whereas Aemond… he’d be doing it out of pure devotion.”

“Are you talking about the same devotion he had for his brother? I’d say he’s more likely to burn his lover to a crisp, than fight a dragon for her.”

“There is a completely different dynamic with his brother,” Ewan explains. “I think that when Aemond falls in love, there is nothing at all that he wouldn’t do for them. In season 2, we already kind of saw him leaning into this reputation of being the most wanted man in the realm. So… he’d fight anything for his lover, that’s for sure. He’d burn the seven kingdoms down if necessary.” He turns to look at the camera, but he catches your eye instead. You’re shaking your head slightly at his answer, but the small smile that graces your lips tells him that you enjoyed it.

He simpers at your apparent show of approval, but Matt cuts the shared moment short.

“I think Aemond’s a young buck,” Matt says, “who’s desperate to make his mark. He wouldn’t know the first thing about devotion. But Daemon… that’s been his internal struggle this whole time. He’s proven that he stands behind his brother and Rhaenyra, no matter how much he tries to act to the contrary. But yeah, we’re going a bit off track here. What was the question? Who’d fight a dragon… ”

“For their lover,” Ewan finishes. “I would still say Aemond. Daemon is too unpredictable.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Matt wags his eyebrows at him. “But I’m standing by my answer. We clearly saw Daemon basically pledge himself to Rhaenyra in the last episode. What more proof do you need?”

“Aemond’s got something up his sleeve,” Ewan says. “He just wants to be loved, that’s it, and when he finds that, there’ll be no question of what he’s capable of doing for Al - ” He catches himself at the last second, before he fully lets slip your character’s name. “I mean - ”

Matt’s eyes light up, sensing an opportunity. “For Alys, you mean?” To the camera, he adds, “spoiler alert, everyone.”

“Right,” Ewan lets out a breath, “Of course.”

“Can’t be anyone else,” Matt challenges him.

“I don’t know for now,” Ewan tries to keep up.

“You currently have a bit of a lack in the lover department,” Matt smirks.

Ewan narrows his eyes at the apparent insinuation. He better be referring to the show. “Fine, then, we can give this one to Daemon. But as to their real-life counterparts,” he locks eyes with you again, “who’s to say? I bet I have this in the bag.”

Matt follows his line of sight, pleased when your attention switches to him. “I think that’s yet to be decided.”

“Alright, we’ve got some more,” Ewan quickly says, in an attempt to divert Matt’s gaze from you.

Matt reads, “Who’s more likely to maintain a good social media presence? Oh, bloody hell, we’re crossing over into uncharted territory with this one.”

“That’s interesting.”

“I’ve never touched it myself,” Matt shrugs. “I’m not on anything, only Facebook for a moment ages ago, but I did not have any desire in going back. Oh wait, we’re meant to answer for our characters. Apologies.”

“Hmm,” Ewan nods. “I don’t know if Aemond would be on social media, no.”

“Yeah, this is a weird question,” Matt says. “Maybe Daemon then? But only to post pictures of Caraxes or something. What do you think?”

“Yeah, Daemon can take this one,” Ewan replies. “Personally, I’m not on social media too much - ”

“But didn’t you jump into the fray recently? With… which one was it?”

“Instagram? Yeah, yeah, that was something.” His mind flashes back to the pictures he had up, both attesting to his love for you. But you had asked him to take the latest one down, which led him to deactivate the account altogether. Temporarily. If the fans assumed that the action was meant to symbolise an end of his involvement with you, then now would be the perfect opportunity to prove them wrong. “I did have to take a step back, because it was kind of overwhelming. I just needed to take some proper time off.”

“Oh really? I wouldn’t know,” Matt says. “Did you actually share some photos there?”

Ewan smiles, pleased at being able to answer this question. “Yeah, I shared a few of my most treasured ones. They were some great pictures, but I’ve got loads more of the same in my phone, and I - ” He throws a warning glance to the camera “ - I think I’ll be keeping those to myself for now.”

Matt, oblivious as to what he’s hinting at, reads the next one. “Who’s the better brother?”

“Aemond for sure.”

“Clearly Daemon.”

And so the banter continues for a couple more prompts, sharp yet flowing naturally, foreshadowing the frenzied fan reactions when the segment is shared online for all to see.

The one where Ewan needs his cowgirl…

Ewan paces around his dressing room, settling into his outfit, awaiting his cue from set. The outfit is a bold mix of traditional Western elements and high fashion: a tailored deep brown leather jacket with intricate embroidery, a crisp white shirt with ruffled cuffs, fitted trousers, and a wide-brimmed cowboy hat. His boots click against the wooden floor as he moves. He’s nervous but determined to impress you, even though it’s always been you with a knack for making his heart race.

After a while, he makes his way out of the dressing room and into the bustling set. The set is decked out to the theme. The director and crew are scattered all around, but Ewan focuses solely on finding you.

When he finally does, his world seems to slow down. You are standing near a vintage saddle, dressed in your own Western-inspired attire. Your smile is radiant as you speak to your assistant, and the way your eyes light up when you see him makes his heart skip a beat. No, it never gets old, he realises, you will always have a maddening effect on him.

He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, and saunters over with as much swagger as he could muster. “Howdy, darling,” he greets in his best cowboy lilt.

You look him up and down with a smile. “Why, hello, good sir,” you say, even doing a playful curtsy.

“Ready to give them a show?” he asks, gesturing to the expanse of the set. Ready to be my cowgirl, darling? He wants to ask instead.

You hum a response. “As I’ll ever be. I’d say you’re a natural at this whole cowboy thing.”

“Oh, darling,” he smirks, “you’d be surprised by what I can do with my lasso.”

“Down, Mitchell.”

“Whatever you want, my cowgirl.”

The atmosphere is electric throughout the shoot, with Ewan constantly leaning down to whisper suggestive lines in your ear.

He finds himself getting lost in the intensity of the shoot, but his focus remains on you. It isn’t as if you are making it easy on him, with your lingering touches and flirtatious remarks.

The camera's shutter clicks away, and Ewan and you pose for one perfect shot after another. The set is alive with activity, but he only sees you, the lighting casting a warm glow on your rouge-stained cheeks. Forgetting where he is for a moment, his hand reaches up to caress your face, and he leans in slightly.

You pose accordingly, likely thinking that he’s just giving the shoot what it demands.

“What was that you were saying about a lasso?” you smirk, in an attempt to diffuse the tension, but it only spurs him on.

“Care for a demonstration?” he shoots back.

“Why not?” you reply easily, adjusting your stance.

“We may need a more intimate setting for that, darling.”

“More intimate than this?” you laugh breathlessly, the warmth of it fanning his face. He’s close enough that the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

He smiles, deaf to the low warning that escapes your lips when he leans in for a kiss on instinct.

Just as his lips are about to graze yours, the director’s voice cuts through the charged silence.

“Cut! Break, everyone!”

The spell is broken instantly. Ewan pulls back, his expression shifting from one of intense concentration to surprise and a hint of frustration.

You stand facing each other, flustered and left wanting. Ewan wants nothing more than to just reach for you and pull you in a closet, and show just how well he can use that bloody lasso. If you want him to. But he forces himself to croak, “To be continued, darling?”

You mirror his heated gaze, nodding once, before turning on your heel and heading to the break room.

When the set is mostly emptied, Ewan picks up the hefty lasso that’s been put aside. With a determined look on his face, he swings it expertly through the air, causing a resounding thwack. The movement is deliberate, a release of his frustrations about you. About Matt. About everything.

But it doesn’t quite bring him the relief he needs, because only you can offer that.

It’s only ever been you.

The one with the first date…

You glance at your phone to check the time, heart fluttering with anticipation. Matt had promised to pick you up at 2, and it is only a minute past, but you’re already standing nervously in your living room. Not a moment too soon, your buzzer alerts you of his arrival, and you press the button to allow him upstairs.

You sneak one more glance at the mirror, smoothing a hand over your t-shirt and jeans. You opted for a casual look, dressed up with some jewelry and heeled boots.

Finally, there’s a knock at the door and you grab your purse as you walk up to meet your awaited visitor.

There he is, standing in the doorway, as impossibly charming as ever. Matt’s dressed in a perfectly fitted black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms, paired with staple dark jeans. His tousled hair looks like he ran a hand through it on his way over, and his signature mischievous grin plays at the corners of his mouth as he takes you in.

“Hello there,” he greets cheerfully.

“Hey, Smithy,” you blush under his gaze.

“You look absolutely incredible,” he says, his gaze sweeping appreciatively over you, “As can be expected. You are my Alyna, after all.”

“Thanks,” you manage to say, your voice soft, almost breathless. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Glad to hear it. I was worried I’d underdressed,” he teases, though the way he carries himself shows that he knows exactly how good he looks. He steps a little closer, his hand lightly grazing your arm as he does.

“You ready to go?” he asks, his voice just a shade deeper, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that still catches you off guard, no matter how exposed you have been to his charms.

“Yeah,” you nod, suddenly aware of how close you’re standing, the air between you thick with tension. “Let’s do this.”

The late afternoon air is crisp as you walk with Matt down a quiet street near Hyde Park. The anticipation from earlier has settled into something more relaxed, yet there’s still an undercurrent of excitement, an unspoken awareness of the new territory you’re both navigating.

Matt leads you to a small café tucked away from the bustle of the city. It’s quaint, with ivy creeping up the walls and soft lights glowing through the windows. As you step inside, the rich aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries envelops you, and you can’t help but smile. The interior is just as charming as the exterior, and a few patrons sit scattered throughout, each absorbed in their own worlds. Too absorbed to notice two somewhat renowned actors entering the premises.

“Pick a spot,” Matt says, his hand gently brushing the small of your back. The touch is fleeting, but it’s enough to send a warm tingle up your spine.

You choose the table with a view of the park just beyond the glass. Ever the gentleman, Matt pulls out a chair for you before settling into the one across from you.

“Hope you like this place,” he says, his tone easy and genuine. “It’s one of my favourites. Feels like a bit of an escape from everything, you know?”

“It’s perfect,” you reply, taking in the cozy atmosphere. “I can see why you come here.”

A waitress comes over to take your order, and Matt gives you his recommendations which you happily go along with. The familiar way with which she addresses him as Mr. Smith confirms his frequent visits. Once she leaves, you lean back in your chair, letting yourself relax into the moment, though you are aware of his eyes watching you the entire time.

“So, how are you finding the city? It’s different from set life, that’s for sure.” Matt asks, his eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and something deeper. Something you can’t pinpoint just yet, though it’s not unfamiliar. You’ve seen that look before. From Ewan. The sudden thought of him drives a wedge in your focus, and you have to shake it off before you answer.

“It’s been great,” you say, smiling. “It’s nice to be able to explore it more this time around, since I've got some downtime. And, of course, the company’s been pretty good too.” You add the last part with a playful tone, which makes him chuckle.

“Oh, I’m sure it has,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eye. “But don’t let Ewan monopolise all your time. I’m around if you ever need a break from him.”

The mention of Ewan brings a subtle shift in the conversation. It’s light, but there’s a hint of something more - an awareness of the connection you share with Ewan that both complicates what you have, or what you could have, with Matt.

“You’re a good friend, Matt,” you say, your tone still light but more sincere. “I appreciate that.”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips, though there’s a flicker of something in his eyes. “Friend, sure,” he says, his voice low and smooth. “But, just so you know… I’m here, if you ever want more than that.”

It’s a simple statement, but the weight of it hangs in the air between you. He’s not pressing, not trying to make you uncomfortable, but it’s clear that he’s laying his cards on the table. Matt’s always had a way of being direct without being pushy, and this moment is no different.

You meet his gaze, feeling the sincerity behind his words. There’s a part of you that’s tempted, drawn in by the way he makes you laugh and feel seen. But there’s something - someone - holding you back.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply, smiling softly.

Matt nods again, his smile resurfaces, as sure as the sun rising. “That’s all I ask.”

The waitress returns with your coffee and pastries, breaking the tension with the clink of cups and the sweet scent of buttery croissants.

After a moment, Matt takes a sip from his own cup and raises an eyebrow. “You know, I heard that drinking coffee in a café like this can increase your charm significantly. I think it’s working, do you?”

You play along, pretending to consider this. “Hmm, I don’t think you need help in that department. But… I’ll still be careful. Just in case you charm me into agreeing to a second date.”

Matt leans closer with a grin. “Second date? Love, if I’m being honest, I’m already planning our third date.”

The conversation shifts back to lighter topics - your favourite places in the city, funny stories from the set, and his many revealing anecdotes about Fabien. Like the one where he got properly sloshed after a night out at the pub, so much so that he stuck some croissants in his washing machine thinking it was the oven.

“To his defense,” Matt exclaims as you giggle uncontrollably, “the two appliances are similarly shaped!”

As the date progresses, you feel undeniably warm and comfortable in Matt’s presence, but you also can’t ignore the lingering thoughts of Ewan. Your phone had buzzed at some point, and when you snuck a glance at the screen, it lit up to reveal three missed calls from Ewan One-Eye. He knows you’re on a date, so he must be interrupting on purpose. Thankfully, Matt’s enthusiastic regaling keeps you from lingering on Ewan - from worrying about him, missing him… from wishing that he could freely allow himself to take you on a date just like this.

As you and Matt stroll back to your apartment, the city lights cast a warm glow on the pavement, creating a magical backdrop for the end of your evening. His arm around your shoulders brings you a sense of ease, and you no longer feel that nervous flush as earlier.

He walks with you inside your building, and when you reach the door to your apartment, Matt pauses by the entrance, turning to face you with a gentle smile. “Well, this has been quite the evening,” he says. “I’m really glad we got to do this.”

You return his smile. “Me too. It’s been a lovely night.”

There’s a moment of hesitation, a shared look that speaks volumes without words.

“Well, I - ” you swallow, your nerves returning, “I better head inside.”

As you reach for your keys, Matt’s hand gently wraps around yours, causing a jolt of electricity to travel up your arm. “Before you do,” he says, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “there’s something I’ve been wanting to do all night.”

You look up at him. Screw your newfound sense of ease. Your heartbeat now pounds in your ears like an erratic drum. “Oh? And what’s that?” But something tells you that you know just what he means.

Without breaking eye contact, Matt leans in slowly, his face drifting closer.

“This,” he mumbles the word as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And then his lips touch yours.

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

This poll caused quite the stir amongst yous, I see. Consider me amused. Since part 9 isn't out yet, and my mind isn't set either - if you've got something to let off your chest, some supporting arguments, you've got one more chance to let me know below (or let each other know) 😉 I always read all your opinions, and they are properly taken into account. What did you think of Matty after this?

When Ewan called her at the end of part eight, do you think she had company? Anyway, something sweet is coming in part nine with Ewan and his darling!

To those who are seriously worried about the outcome, note that is and always has been a Ewan x reader fic. I am a Ewan girl just like yous. Hold fast and have fun on the wild ride, darlings 💙

#chemical override #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #matt smith #matt smith x reader #daemon targaryen

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inkspiredwriting · 2 months

Text

Goodbye Five

A/N: I'll be honest with you when I wrote this, I cried. I had to watch that horrible five and lila scene again because I wanted the exact wording. My heart is still bleeding and I don't know if I'll take a break soon. I still feel pretty sick when I think about the whole Lila and five thing.

Warnings: spoilers for season 4 episode 5

Y/N stood alone in the dimly lit subway station, her breath coming out in shallow, shaky gasps. The briefcase in her hand hummed softly, its temporal energy pulsating beneath her fingers. She had used it to escape the chaos of her own timeline, seeking refuge in another. But as she looked around, she realized that she had arrived in a place she never expected—a timeline where the love of her life, Five, was not hers.

She knew she had to stay hidden. The risks of revealing herself were too great, both for her and for this version of Five. So, she kept to the shadows, slipping through the timeline like a ghost. She watched from afar, her heart breaking with every passing moment.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize that in this timeline, Five had found someone else. And that someone else was Lila.

The first time she saw them together, her heart nearly stopped. She had been walking through a House, drawn by the sound of laughter. It was a sound she knew well, a sound that had once been the music of her life. But as she peered through the foliage, she saw that it was not her laughter mingling with Five’s—it was Lila’s.

They were in a greenhouse, surrounded by lush greenery and the sweet scent of strawberries. Five was standing by a patch of plants, carefully watering the fruits, while Lila stood opposite him, a mischievous smile on her face. Y/N’s heart ached as she watched Lila pluck a strawberry from the vine and toss it at Five, who observed it with a grin.

“If you keep this up, we’re not gonna have strawberries when the snow comes.” Five said, his voice teasing as he gently tossed the strawberry back at Lila.

She felt the breath leave her lungs as she watched Lila stumbled and Five caught her. Five’s eyes softened as he watched her, a look of affection that Y/N knew all too well. It was the look he used to give her, in another time, another life.

Y/N pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob as she continued to watch the scene unfold. it was all too much. She wanted to turn away, to flee from the pain that was tearing her apart, but she couldn’t. She was rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes away from the man she loved and the woman who had taken her place.

The strawberries were forgotten as Five stepped closer to Lila, his hands reaching out to cup her face. Y/N’s heart shattered as she saw the way Lila leaned into his touch as they kissed, her eyes closing as if savoring the moment.

“Don’t.” Lila whispered, her voice soft and full of emotion.

“Don’t what?” Five replied, his voice equally tender.

“Be weird.” Lila's voice was soft as she looked into Five's eyes.

“Was that weird?” Five’s voice thick with emotion.

“No, which is what makes it weird.” Lila replied,

And then, as if to seal their words, they kissed again. It was a kiss filled with love, with the kind of love that Y/N had once known, but now felt slipping away from her grasp. She watched them, her vision blurring as tears filled her eyes.

When they finally broke apart, Five rested his forehead against Lila’s, a contented smile on his face. and Lila smiled back at him, her eyes shining with love.

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She turned and fled, her feet carrying her as far away from the greenhouse as possible. She didn’t stop until she reached a secluded spot at the edge of the House, where she collapsed onto the ground, her body wracked with sobs.

The pain was unbearable. It wasn’t just the sight of Five with another woman—it was the knowledge that in this timeline, she didn’t exist for him. She was a stranger, a ghost from another life. And he had moved on. He had found love, and happiness, with someone else.

Y/N curled up on the ground, her tears soaking into the earth. The briefcase lay beside her, a cold reminder of the choices that had led her here. She had never imagined that she would end up like this—stranded in a timeline where the man she loved was lost to her forever.

As the night wore on, Y/N’s sobs slowly subsided, leaving her feeling empty and hollow. She stared up at the ceiling, her heart aching with a pain that seemed to have no end. She had thought she could handle anything, that she was strong enough to face whatever life threw at her. But this—this was too much.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, lost in her grief. But eventually, the reality of her situation began to sink in. She was alone in a timeline that wasn’t hers, with a man who didn't even know she existed. And even if she could go back, what would be waiting for her there? A world where Five didn’t love her? Where he was in love with Lila?

Y/N wiped her tears, trying to summon some semblance of strength. She knew she couldn’t stay here, wallowing in her sorrow. She had to find a way back to her timeline, to accept that this timeline was not hers to change. This Five had found happiness, and she had to find her five again, the five who loved her.

With a heavy heart, Y/N picked up the briefcase and activated it. As the familiar hum of temporal energy surrounded her, she cast one last look behind her. The memory of Five and Lila, laughing and kissing in the greenhouse, would haunt her forever.

“Goodbye Five.” Y/N said, a tear slipping down her cheek

And then, with a flash of light, she was gone, leaving behind a timeline where the man she loved was lost to her.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot

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ddejavvu · 1 year

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hiii! this is my first time requesting and I just love your writing so much, you are so talented!

I was thinking about telling early season spencer (3-4) that he has a “slutty waist” and he’s all shy about bc he doesn’t even know what that means.

i’m on spencer’s waist tiktok right now and this popped up in my head😭

It's a bleary observation that you're too groggy to be making in the early hours of the morning, but Spencer hears it anyways, "You've got a slutty waist, Spence."

He actually thinks he mishears you at first, eyes narrowing as he turns from where he'd been tying his tie in the mirror, "Huh?"

"Your waist," You grumble, turned on your side now - still, mercifully, buried beneath the covers with several hours left to sleep - to watch him where he stands, "It's slutty."

"Slutty?" He echoes in disbelief, and you wonder if it's the first time the offensive word has ever passed through his lips, "What does that- what? My waist?"

"Yeah," You nod as vigorously as your sleep-clogged muscles will allow you to, "Look at it, it's all skinny and tight and- and it moves when you walk."

"Are you drunk?" Spencer asks, looking partly aghast and partly amused, "Or- or did you take really strong sleeping medication? You're loopy."

"I'm fine," You manage, brain beginning to fire on more than just one meager cylinder, "Come kiss me, you slut."

"Please stop calling me that," Spencer begs bashfully, cheeks lit up a bright pink. but he complies in record time. Maybe it's to shut you up faster, but he hunches over the bed where you're laying to kiss your sleep-tacked lips.

"I don't wanna," You lament, letting him tuck you back beneath the covers as he rushes to leave, too flustered to handle another round of your rather brash observations about his body without time for a cold shower. He dashes for the door once he's tucked you in, like the blankets are bindings and would stop you from chasing after him. You watch his retreating form, calling out after him, "Have a good day at work, my little slut!"

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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juniperskye · 6 months

Text

I Can’t Be Your Friend.

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you do something that alters the state of your friendship. You realize that being his friend hurts too much now. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts.

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff/implied Smut

Word count: 2473

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, implied smut, drug use (marijuana), explicit language, idiots in love, Steve’s absent parents, mention of underage drinking. Let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Tonight was going to be amazing! Steve had invited everyone over for a summer kickoff party, there would be pizza, swimming, beer, and good company. Robin and you had gotten to Steve’s early to help set things up, pizzas were on the way, and you were just waiting for everyone to show up now.

First to arrive was Nancy, she had driven over with Mike, Lucas, Max, and Dustin. They had come bounding in with arms full of chips and soda, piling them recklessly on the coffee table. The younger kids were arguing about who got the bathroom first to change.

You couldn’t help but laugh and roll your eyes as you made your way to the door, letting in the next group. You had assumed it would be Johnathan, Argyle, and the rest of the kids, but instead, Eddie was standing in the doorway.

“Hey Eds!” You smiled.

“Hey! How’s my best girl?” Eddie pulled you into his arms and lifted you slightly as he spun you around. “I’ve missed you dude.”

“I’m good Eds. I’ve missed you too!” Your heart clenched slightly as he placed you back on your feet.

Your relationship with Eddie had always been like this. You were best friends, but sometimes, things were done or said that seemed a bit more than friendly. You’d stayed more nights with Eddie this last year than you did in your own home. Robin had pestered you about the status of your relationship with him to which you’d always reply; “We’re just friends, he doesn’t see me that way”.

“So, I know the kids are here, but I brought a little something special for us. I figured we could go to the van, take a few hits then come back in.” Eddie said wagging a joint in front of you.

“Eddie!” You hissed, covering the joint. “You can’t just pull that out. But yes, give me fifteen minutes.”

Eddie tucked the joint back into his jacket pocket and watched as you made your way over to Steve, Nancy, and Robin. Robin gave you a knowing look and you brushed her off. You were all catching up for a bit, laughing at the nonsense the kids were getting up to. Eddie was the one to open the door for Jonathan, Argyle, El, and Will. As they all walked in, Eddie came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your head.

“You ready?” Eddie whispered.

You nodded and let him lead you outside to his van. Climbing in the back, you made yourself comfortable amongst the pile of blankets and pillows, all the while, Eddie lit the joint and placed it to his lips. After a few quick puffs and one long drag, Eddie passed it to you. The two of you passed the joint back and forth for a bit before it was nearly gone.

“Do you want the last hit?” Eddie asked.

“Nah it’s cool, you take it.” You leaned your head back.

“We could always share it.” Eddie said with a sly smirk.

“Okay.” You blushed.

Eddie took a long drag, holding it in as he moved towards you. He brought his lips to yours, only separated by a few millimeters. Your lips parted in a gasp, and he blew the smoke into your mouth. You inhaled sharply, allowing the smoke in. Your mind felt hazy, and you were starting to wonder if it was the weed or the lack of space between Eddie and you. Eddie met your eyes and pulled back slightly, clearing his throat.

What the hell was happening?

The two of you made your way back into the house and took turns changing into your bathing suits. You rushed outside and went to sit on the steps of the pool with Robin and Nancy. Each of whom gave you a pointed look.

Eddie made a stop in the kitchen to grab you a coke and an orange soda for himself, he then made his way outside. He sat the two cans in front of where you were sitting with the girls, the next thing you knew he was jumping into the pool, splashing the three of you, eliciting screeches from you three.

He surfaced and swam over to you, settling himself between your legs which were dangling off the step. His chest pressed against yours as he reached behind you to grab his soda. Your breath was caught in your throat.

Had he always been this beautiful?

Who were you kidding. Of course he had.

The night went on like this. The kids swimming, playing a ridiculous game of Marco-Polo, Steve grilling hamburgers and hotdogs, Eddie treating you like far more than a friend.

Now you were all crammed in Steve’s living room, some movie playing in the background. You couldn’t remember the name of it because you were far too distracted. When you had come into the living room, all the good seats had been taken, and instead of letting you sit on the floor, Eddie had pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around your middle.

You had been sitting like this for about half an hour before he made the suggestion.

“Do you want to go back to my place?”

This typically wouldn’t have sounded like a line, but given everything that had occurred today, you couldn’t help but feel like his words held deeper meaning.

“Okay.”

He led you into the trailer, just like any other time you’d been here, only this time there was a tension hanging over you.

More like sexual tension.

Jesus, get a hold of yourself.

Entering Eddie’s room brought forth a wave of anticipation, you couldn’t help but feel like something was about to happen. Eddie walked over to you and handed you one of his Iron Maiden shirts and a pair of his boxers.

It’s now or never.

You locked your eyes on Eddie’s as you slowly removed your tank top and shorts, leaving you clad in only your bathing suit. Eddie took a sharp breath and pulled his shirt over his head. Up until now things felt as though they’d been moving in slow motion, then all of a sudden things switched to fast forward.

Eddie lunged towards you and locked his lips onto your own, your hands finding his curls, his finding the ties to your swimsuit. His lips tasted like orange soda and nicotine, he was addicting, and you knew you’d never be able to give this up.

Eddie woke up and glanced over to see your naked form curled up in his bed. He couldn’t believe it, the two of you had taken that leap, this would change everything between you.

This could change everything.

I can’t afford to lose her.

You stirred awake, noticing your lack of clothing, and taking note of the discarded clothing on the floor.

So that really did happen.

This could change everything!

“Hey.” Eddie said quietly.

“Hey.” You blushed.

You sat up holding the sheet to your chest and turning to meet Eddie’s gaze. Something was off about his expression, he seemed somber, and you were terrified to find out why.

“So, uh…” Eddie turned, breaking eye contact. “We should just forget this ever happened; you know. So, it doesn’t fuck up our friendship.”

Please say you don’t want to forget about it.

Of course he doesn’t want me.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Of course she doesn’t want me.

You stood and quickly began pulling your clothes on and gathering your things. There was this loud ringing in your ears and you’re sure Edie was calling your name, but all you knew was you needed to get out of there.

You were halfway home before the ringing stopped.

How could you be so stupid.

Then the tears started. Not only had your heart been broken by the man you loved, but you also lost the one person you’d want to hold you while you cried.

“Dude what is up with you? You’ve been super weird since Steve’s summer kick-off party.” Robin pestered.

“Yeah she’s right, plus Eddie’s been extra bitchy, which usually only happens when you haven’t seen one another in a while. I thought for sure you guys were gonna hookup that night.” Steve ranted.

Your face turned a bright shade of red and you let your gaze fall to your lap. You knew you weren’t exactly being discreet with your avoidance of Eddie, but you didn’t’ think they’d call you out directly.

“Holy shit! You two had sex!” Robin shouted, smacking you on the arm.

“Ow! Yes, we did. And it ruined everything. The next morning, he suggested we just forget it ever happened.”

“What? No way, Eddie’s head over heels for you. What happened?” Steve asked.

You explained to Steve and Robin the events of the night and they both concluded that it made no sense. They were both convinced Eddie was in love with you.

This was when Steve and Robin came up with their plan. They would get you and Eddie together before summer ended.

“Steve, this isn’t working. She is declining every invite to hangout; she has gone as far as driving over and leaving if she sees the van, and even calling everyone to be sure if Eddie was invited.” Robin said throwing herself on the couch in defeat.

“That’s it! We will invite her over for a movie night, just the three of us. Then after she’s here, you go to the other room and call Eddie and invite him over. That way nobody will be able to tell her that he’s invited because he wasn’t.” Steve explained.

“Hey guys!” You called entering Steve’s house.

“Hey! How have you been? We haven’t seen you in a while.” Robin pulled you into a hug.

“Sorry about that, I just…I can’t bring myself to face him yet. I’ll get over it, I just need time.” You said.

Steve came in, greeting you and pulling you to the living room to help him pick a movie. He threw a wink over his shoulder to Robin. She rolled her eyes and made her way to Steve’s dad’s office ready to make the call. When she came to the living room she played it off as a trip to the bathroom.

Things were going well, they felt like old times, save for the hole in your chest in the shape of one, Eddie Munson.

Speaking of which.

“Hey guys!” Eddie greeted, entering the house.

“Guys, what the hell.” You said threw gritted teeth.

They both looked at you with guilty eyes. You shook your head and told them you needed to go. Grabbing your bag you went for the door. It took everything in you to not look at him.

“Hey, where are you going?” Eddie called after you, following you outside. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. You’re dodging my calls, your canceling plans, you’re literally leaving as I showed up to hang out.”

“Eddie, I can’t do this right now. I need to go.”

“So what? That’s it?” He had never sounded so defeated.

“Eddie, I…”

“Is this because of that night? C’mon you’re my best friend, you’re just gonna throw that all away?” He grasped your hand in his own.

“That’s the problem Eddie, I can’t be your friend anymore. Everything is different now.” You shook your head, pulled your hand from his grasp, and took off walking back home.

Eddie walked back into the house and immediately receive a slap to the back of the head from Robin. She and Steve proceeded to explain to Eddie how he had messed the whole thing up and how him suggesting you just “forget it ever happened” had led you to believe that he didn’t care about you.

Initially he didn’t believe them that you had feelings for him, but after they literally spelled it out for him, he realized what an idiot he had been.

“I’m gonna need your help.”

The plan had been a pretty difficult one, Eddie needed Robin and Steve to convince you to come over again for an end of summer bash and after the last time, he was sure you’d say no.

Robin had explained to you that after your conversation with Eddie, that he definitely wouldn’t be coming. She told you that she asked him, and he had declined. It was then that you agreed, but not without a pang of guilt filling your chest. You couldn’t stand the thought of hurting Eddie. The look on his face when you told him you couldn’t be his friend had been haunting you.

The day came and you drove over to Steve’s, shocked that the only car in the driveway had been his. You parked and let yourself in.

“Steve? Where is everyone?”

“Hey! I’m in my room, and they’re on their way I figured you could come early so I could see how you were doing.” Steve said.

You walked into his room and noticed he was seemingly searching for something, he was scrambling around his room, swiftly moving to his dresser as you made yourself comfortable on his bed. You looked over at him just in time to see a mess of curls enter and Steve pulling the door closed. You heard the lock click and the distinct sound of a chair being pushed against the knob.

“What the hell is this?”

“I needed to find a way to talk to you and you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Eddie, let me out.”

“Not until we talk. Look I fucked up that night, I suggested that we forget about it and that was stupid.” He exclaimed.

“Eds, look, I just need time…these feelings will go away eventually. I don’t want to lose you as a friend, but how am I supposed to be around you when I’ve tasted your kiss and will never get to experience that again?”

“I don’t want your feelings to go away. Truth is, I only suggested it because I thought there was no way you could love me back.” Eddie explained.

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Eddie pulled you into a gentle kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. You let your fingers get tangled in his hair. There were whispered apologies between kisses and you two only broke apart when the two of you needed air.

“How would you like to go get some dinner?” Eddie asked.

“I would love that!” You replied.

With that, Eddie walked over to the bedroom door and began knocking, shouting to Steve that he was safe to let you guys out. His knocks sped up the longer it took for Steve to release you both.

“Harrington, hurry up! I gotta take my girlfriend on our first date!”

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miwiheroes · 12 days

Text

Byler + Closet Imagery

Just wanted to show just how much closet imagery and references there are in stranger things and how it's super obvious, that it's kind of insane that it goes over the GA's heads so much. It's mostly with Mike as well, funnily enough.

Closet imagery has been used in media over the years to show that a character might be gay but the audience/the other characters just don't know it yet.

For example, it was used here in Paper Girls (2022) for KJ who was not out as gay yet.

It was also used for Eyewitness (2016) with Lukas who also has internalised homophobia and we already know that Byler has had a parallel to Eyewitness before.

So, it's interesting that this closet imagery has been used for Mike and Byler ever since the show began in Season 1. Let's look at all the ways it has been used and how insane these are that some people deny them because UHHHH....

1. Mike hides El in his closet

Karen: "With all this that's been going on, with Will, I can't imagine what it's been like for you... i just-- want you to feel like you can talk to me. i never want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me. i'm here for you. okay?"

Mike: *is hiding El in the closet* *a noise comes from the closet after Karen says these things* *he lies about it* *Karen then hugs Mike later on when Will 'dies' HADGSJHDG*

2. Argues with El in a closet

I find it so funny how the framing here is El literally between Mike and some male dummy and then she grabs it from him LMAOO i love cinematography.

Mike: 'You are the most important thing to me in the worl-'

El: *interrupts him* 'What if [Hopper's] right?'

Mike: *feels attacked as she questions the legitimacy of their relationship while she holds a male dummy in the closet* "No, no no no. He's just some angry old man who hates joy."

Why are you questioning the sanity of someone instead of using actual arguments for your relationship?? Oh that's right, you're in the closet <3

3. Kisses El in front of a closet

Particularly, this is Will's closet as well.

El: "I love you too" *kisses Mike*

Mike: *makes disgusted/ confused face* *doesn't kiss back and has his eyes open* *has the light coming from the closet framed on his head as if he's realised something.*

El: *walks away smiling*

Mike: *looks to the side confused with an open closet next to him* *thinks What is wrong with me?/ What just happened here? (original script)*

Also the music is "The First I love You" which is the same music they use in a scene where Robin comes out of the closet.

4. Mike reads a letter from El in front of a lit up closet

Bro is reading a note with RAINBOWS ON IT and then the camera pans to him reading with a literal open closet which is lit up right next to him. How is this not blatant queer-coding??

Also Mike: *panics in front of a closet which has a ray of light shining on him* *has a one-way sign pointing into the closet which is revealed when he bends down*

I am going insane at this it's so funny

5. Argues with his bestie bro when a song called "In The Closet" plays

aka arguing with Will about how he sabotaged your day by ignoring you instead of your gf getting bullied x

Will: "Well we used to be best friends!"

Mike: *looks devastated as a song called "In The Closet (at Rink O' Mania)" plays when the camera goes back to him* "Well maybe you should've reached out more, I don't know. Why is this on me? Why am I the bad guy?"

El: *is hiding from Mike in a closet*

Why are you suddenly switching the blame Mike??? Oh girl you're a little too defensive

6. Mike and Will have a heart-to-heart in front of an open closet

Mike: "No, no you didn't deserve anything... Hawkins isn't the same without you... Maybe I was worrying too much about El... felt like I lost you or something... Friends, 🥺❤️ best friends."

All while Will is tearing up in front of a closet (also the picture here on the left literally has them framed on either side of an open closet WDYMMM)

Anyways,

Byler Endgame

#crazy insane shenanigans #byler #byler endgame #mike wheeler #will byers #byler nation #byler evidence #byler proof

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notakugelblitz · 1 month

Text

DELORES PART 1 • Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

something sweet to soothe your anger dearest brellies 🥰 takes place during season 4 episode 1, no warning all safe. enjoy !

Y/N had worked with Five at the Commission. She was with him on the day of JFK's assassination, and when he mentioned the possibility of escaping the company, she thought, why not? The Handler still hadn't given her the promotion she'd been promised 15 years ago, and the health insurance was worthless by then ...

Y/N followed Five through three apocalypses, becoming a teenager again. At least she no longer had the beginnings of arthritis, which she was more grateful for than her colleague. The Hargreeves quickly took Y/N under their wing, appreciating her a lot, especially since she had the gift of shutting Five up.

Y/N and Five became very good friends. Once the umbrella Academy lost their powers in this new timeline, Y/N chose to open a bookstore, while Five became a CIA agent. They met from time to time, enjoying each other's company over a black coffee on a terrace. In six years, nothing ambiguous had happened between them. Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted it to or not—it was a strange feeling. But now, with her new life started, she had time. If Five was interested, he would make a move; if not, so be it. But this was the calm before the storm...

Five entered the secret meeting set in an apartment with a classy, dimly lit atmosphere. The place was spacious, hosting about thirty people. Five smoothed his mustache, grabbed a glass of champagne from the buffet, and scanned the room. Just as he thought he recognized Lila, another young woman caught his attention. She was leaning against the balcony, her face hidden as she stood with her back to him. She had long, straight auburn hair, styled with a yellow beret. She was wearing a white shirt with black polka dots, neatly tucked into her pencil skirt.

Five felt a drop of sweat trickle down his temple and took a deep breath before joining her. He also leaned on the balcony, just like she did, barely daring to look at her.

"Beautiful night, isn’t it?" Y/N murmured, a simple smile on her lips.

She didn’t meet his gaze either, which slightly irritated Five. He finally turned his head and recognized Y/N.

"What the hell are you doing ..."

The words escaped his mouth when he noticed the name on her nametag : Delores. Five almost choked on his champagne.

"Yeah, the champagne is disgusting, I agree. But the hors d'oeuvres are delicious though. You should try them!" "What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re part of this ridiculous support group ..."

Y/N burst into laughter, shaking her head.

"Oh no, no ... I came with "Nancy" so Diego wouldn’t ask too many questions. But this wig is seriously itching. It's awful." Y/N explained, amused, scratching her scalp.

She then turned her attention to Five and looked at his nametag.

"Jerome? That doesn’t suit you very well. I wonder where you got that name..." "It wasn’t my choice. And where did you get yours?" he retorted, frowning.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden cold and somewhat aggressive tone.

"I like that name." Y/N simply said. "And that shirt—do you like it too? It’s hideous." "I found it in a thrift shop—it seemed nice... hey! What’s gotten into you?" Y/N finally exclaimed. "Bullshit." "Five what the hell!"

Y/N seemed sincere. She had no idea what her cover name meant to him. After all these years, he had never told her about Delores. Instead of apologizing, he downed his glass of champagne.

"So, those hors d'oeuvres?" Five asked.

Y/N laughed lightly, understanding it was his awkward way of apologizing. Just as she was about to praise the treats, Jean and Gene appeared, announcing the start of the meeting.

What followed was a very eventful evening. The Umbrella Effect, interacting with Jean and Gene, dining with Lila and Five, Viktor's kidnapping... it felt like the old days! And throughout it all, Five kept giving Y/N odd looks. Why had fate embedded the love of his life so clearly in his friend and colleague? Five didn’t believe in coincidences; he never had.

Y/N had noticed those supposedly discreet glances, which intrigued her a lot. Especially since she could feel her cheeks flush like a 16-year-old girl.

Despite everything, the Hargreeves ended their evening at an Asian restaurant to debrief. Having retrieved the Marigold thanks to Sy, most of them decided not to take it. This surprised Y/N a lot. Powers... that was the dream, wasn’t it?

While Ben was in the bathroom, Y/N leaned toward Five.

"Imagine what you could do for the CIA with your teleportation..." she whispered. "Shut up, Y/N." Five murmured. "No, but seriously! I don’t know what I’d give to be special like you guys were! If it were up to me, I’d drink that jar dry!"

Five chuckled sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"If you think this is one of those stupid Marvel movies, think again. Having powers comes with great responsibilities, sure—the responsibility to control them and not cause an apocalypse." "Killjoy..." Y/N sighed. "And for your information..." Five hesitated before continuing in a lower voice, leaning a bit closer to her. "You don’t need that to be... special."

Coming from his mouth, it sounded weird. Reaching her ears, it sounded weird. Y/N sat up straight and silently thanked some higher force when Ben arrived with a tray of eight shots. While everyone found an excuse to leave, Ben convinced them to drink. "For old time's sake," he said.

Everyone gave in, and when Y/N realized she didn’t have a glass, she felt disheartened.

"Can’t I celebrate our reunion?" she asked. "You're not part of the family." Ben snapped. "Wow, Ben, that’s rude!" Luther exclaimed. "Y/N is more family than you ever were." Five groaned, pointing a threatening finger at him. "No, it's fine, let it go, Five." Y/N sighed, though Five’s words had touched her.

She stepped aside, letting them toast. Just as everyone raised their glasses to their lips, Klaus nudged Y/N and handed her his glass.

"OnJanuary 15th, it'll be 3 years that I am sober. Tonight’s not the night I’ll mess that up, and certainly not for old time's sake." Klaus whispered. "I can’t accept that ..." Y/N politely refused. "Oh, come on, down it or I’ll tell everyone you slept with Five at Luther’s wedding."

Y/N gasped, grabbed the glass, drank it down in record time, and handed it back to Klaus. No one seemed to notice the trick, and that was just as well.

Y/N still had that awful taste in her mouth. Maybe she shouldn’t have drunk that glass. After all, Klaus was lying. Wasn’t he? It was true she had a total blackout that night, but... her and Five? No... right?

Once outside, everyone said their goodbyes. As Y/N tried to figure out where Klaus had gone so she could question him, a car pulled up next to her. The passenger window rolled down, and she bent down to see the driver. It was Five.

"I’ll give you a ride." "No, it’s okay, I’m not far..." "That wasn’t a question," Five said, leaning over to open the passenger door.

Y/N sighed but couldn’t help smiling. She got in, buckled up, and Five started the car.

"Be honest with me, Y/N." he said seriously, focusing on the road. "Mmh?" "Why Delores? And why that damn polka dot shirt?"

Y/N widened her eyes.

"You're still hung up on that!" she exclaimed. "I’ve changed since then..." "Stop it right now, Y/N. This isn’t funny," he growled. "Look, Five, I don’t understand! You’re completely crazy!" "Why Delores?" "I don’t know, okay?" she yelled back. "I don’t know."

She repeated the sentence silently to herself.

"The name just came to me, and the shirt was the cheapest... I swear, Five, I’ve never been more honest with you..."

Five finally looked at her and realized she was telling the truth. When they arrived at the bookstore, he parked on the side of the road.

"I’m sorry, Y/N... it’s just that... I knew a Delores a long time ago, and... she looked just like you."

Y/N, surprised, met his gaze and tilted her head to the side.

"I never thought the famous Five Hargreeves had a romance," she breathed.

Five nodded , locking eyes with her sparkling ones. He had always loved that color, though he would never admit it. He looked away, eyes fixed on the steering-wheel. Fortunately Y/N didn't know Delores was a mannequin. Five kept silent, thinking about this damn coincidence and its probable meaning.

Y/N didn’t know what to say so she got out of the car, feeling unsettled. As she headed towards the bookstore, she suddenly stopped, turned around, and walked back to the car, leaning against the window on Five’s side.

“Be honest with me, Five.” she said seriously.

Five chuckled softly, amused by this ongoing joke, and nodded, signaling her to continue.

“What happened at Luther’s wedding?” she asked suddenly.

Five frowned. Why was she asking about that now?

“They got married,” he said simply. “Haha, very funny. No, seriously, between us... did something happen?”

Five discreetly swallowed and started the car.

“You should go home, it’s getting late.”

Y/N groaned and walked around the front of the car again so that he couldn't leave, suddenly opening the passenger door and sitting down.

“What are you doing…?” “You agreed to be honest with me. And you’re not. So I won’t move until…” “Fine.” "Oh, that was quick."

Five immediately started driving and continued in silence.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” “No.” “So, is this a kidnapping?” “Call it whatever you want. You learned how to jump out of a moving car at the Commission, so if your ass is still in that seat, it means you don’t really want to leave.”

Point for him. The silence was fine at the beginning, but it grew heavier and heavier minutes after minutes. Y/N was relieved when she recognized the streets as they were arriving at the parking lot of Five's apartment. He turned off the car and slumped further into his seat. Y/N could tell he was hiding something.

“So. Did we sleep together that night?” she asked bluntly.

Five’s eyes widened.

“What! Who told you that nonsense?” he exclaimed with an amused tone. “Klaus… he…” “You know Klaus always exaggerates, Y/N…”

Y/N lowered her eyes, embarrassed for having believed it so easily. Five noticed her distress and sighed. He rummaged through an inner pocket of his jacket, hesitating before pulling out a Polaroid photo. He handed it to Y/N nonchalantly. She looked at him, then at the photo, which she took with apprehension. It was taken at Luther’s wedding. Y/N and Five were on stage. A microphone stand separated them, only a few centimeters from each other's face. They looked completely drunk, which explained why they were singing so close and why Y/N had no memory of it.

“Just imagine eyes like moon rise, a voice like music, lips like wine.” Five muttered, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

Y/N looked up at him. Those were the lyrics to a love song by Frank Sinatra, yet it sounded oddly different coming from his mouth.

“Please, tell me…” she whispered.

Five sighed, knowing full well he had reached a point of no return.

“We overdid it on the alcohol that night. And with the apocalypse looming... it makes you do things you wouldn’t normally be capable of.”

He paused, but Y/N smiled, encouraging him to continue.

“You seemed different that night. You had no filter. You never had one when it came to annoying me, but for saying nice things, well... and you were really beautiful. And without thinking, I grabbed that mic and sang that stupid Sinatra song. And you looked at me with those eyes. They sparkled like… like the Kugelblitz. Almost more. And you joined me, and we made quite the duo, I must say. I can't fucking remember the name of the song as we were only babbling incomprehensible lyrics.”

Y/N was speechless.

“So…” “No sex. Pure fluff, even though it’s a disgusting word to say.”

Y/N chuckled.

“And you kissed me,” Five finally said, emotionless.

Everything seemed so unreal, yet he looked sincere.

“Why didn’t you tell me for six years?” she asked, shocked. “I… I chickened out. You didn’t remember, so it gave you the chance to start fresh.”

Suddenly, Y/N slapped him across the face, the sound of the slap echoing through Dallas. Five didn't blink, feeling like it was deserved somehow.

“You’re such an idiot.” “I know.”

They remained silent for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. If any member of the Umbrella Academy had the power to read minds, they would’ve run away, given the turmoil that stirred within them.

Y/N thought back to all those moments spent with Five, and of course, they had a different flavor than those shared with an actual colleague. Despite their constant teasing, Five had always been there for Y/N, and vice versa. They understood each other, given their age and experience. Everything suddenly became clear.

And then, in perfect synchronization, they kissed passionately, Y/N placing her hands on Five’s cheeks while he firmly gripped her waist. It was a fiery kiss, making up for all the lost time due to misplaced pride. Out of breath, Y/N pulled back slightly to look at him, a smirk on her lips.

“What? Don’t make me regret what just happened…” Five chuckled. “Firsy things first, secretly keeping a picture of me is weird. Secondly, the song by Sinatra ... It is named Dolores. Just saying…” Y/N laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear that had fallen over his bright eyes.

"Shut it." he groaned, pecking your lips to make you silent. But then , he approaches his lips to your ear, whispering.

“It seems that no matter the timeline, I’m destined to have a Delores getting in my way.”

Y/N burst out laughing, and Five couldn’t help but smile sincerely. It felt good to come out of his shell, especially for Y/N. Five invited Y/N to spend the night at his place. This sudden happiness seemed surreal, yet it was very real. The idea of a normal life together seemed so pleasant. If only they knew ...

here it is, i really hope you liked it ! sorry if you spotted some mistakes, English isn’t my first language.

would you be interested in a part 2 now that Y/N swallowed up a shot of marigold ? just sayin’ … 😏

#five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #five x y/n #five hargreeves fanfic #five x reader #the umbrella academy season 4 #five hargreeves season 4 #delores #Spotify

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aismoker · 24 days

Text

Playing for the winning team

David had always wanted to become a professional soccer player. had been invited to a company to discuss the possibilities of a sponsorship.

When he had receivedthe invitation, David was excited, but now sitting in front of a representative of his potential sponsor, Marlboro, he wasn't so sure anymore. He hated smoking, but deep inside he knew that the opportunity to get a sponsor wouldn't come a second time. He once more read the contract. There was a lot that he didn't understand.

Suddenly the representative spoke, with a cold emotionless voice: "So, what's it going to be?" David looked up at the man. In his opinion the man represented everything that evil corporatism stood for. Deep inside he knew that he shouldn't sign the contract. That getting involved with this sponsor was everything he was against. But on the other hand, it would probably be the only way to realize his dream to break through as a soccer player. It would probably be easier to get another sponsor once he was in the circuit...

"You know there will not come a better deal," the representative said, whike exhaling a cloud of smoke towards David, "just sign it. You won't regret it." David took up the pen. "I'll sign." After he signed and the pen left the paper, David had the feeling this was the worst decision he had ever made.

He put the pen back and looked up again. The representative smiled a cold cruel smile. His eyes seemed to glow red. "Welcome to the team." He then gave a sign to two men that had been standing silently in the room all the time that David had been there. They walked up to him and grabbed David forcefully. "What the fuck!" David shouted. "Nothing to worry about, they will take you to Introduction," the man said, still smiling at David.

The men that had grabbed David, started to drag him towards an elevator. David tried to fight, but they were too strong. They had grips of steel. They shoved him into the elevator and went down. David was desperate. What had he done?!? He tried to fight again, but the men that hokd him didn't move a muscle, literally. They didn't move. They just stood there motionless. Only the heaving of their chests as they took rythmical drags of their cigarettes indicated that they weren't statues.

The elevator went down deeper and deeper. When the doors opened, the men dragged David out into a metallic hallway. They went into a large room. In it, there were rows and rows of pod-like devices. Most of them seemed to be off, but several seemed to be working, as a humming noise came from them and clouds of smoke hung above them. David was dragged to an empty pod and locked in. David had no power to fight anymore. Desperation took over. "Please, let me go. I will do anything!" But the men didn't respond. They pushed a button and left him.

A helmet started to lower over his head. One last time, David tried to get out. To no avail. When the helmet covered his head, he heard a metalic click and he saw the Marlboro-logo light up on the display in front of his eyes.

6 WEEKS LATER

With a hissing sound, the pod opened. Out stepped David. He grabbed a pack of Reds that was lying on a table and expertedly lit up. For the last few weeks he had done exactly the same. He looked at himself in the mirror and admired again his new team uniform. Gone were his fears and reservations. He understood now. He had been enlightened. Made better. He was now part of the team. Marlboro was now taking care of him. He lived now in the training facility, together with the other members of Team Marlboro, to train for the upcoming soccer season. Thanks to Marlboro, he could now do the thing he loved most: playing soccer. In fact, he knew now that soccer had become even better, as he was no longer doing it to gain personal renown. No, he was now doing it for something bigger, something better than himself. By playing soccer, he could spread the joy of Marlboro, making sure the team would keep growing.

4 MONTHS LATER

The soccer season had ended and there they stood. Team Marlboro had won!

It had been uncommon season. From the very first match, David and his fellow team members had dominated the field. They were so synchronized to each other that it seemed that they were all part of one well-oiled machine.

The team had caused some commotion though. Their first match had been postponed, because the team had entered all with cigarettes in their mouths on the field. The referee had to go through the rule book, but couldn't find any rule that forbade smoking during a match, so there was no reason to cancel the game. Team Marlboro won that day with 17-0.

That was not the only unusual thing that happened that season. The season saw also an unusual number of irregular transfer. After each match, the star players of the opposing teams received invitations for a tour of the Marlboro Training facility. A few weeks after the tour, they usually announced that they had decided to leave their current team, because they wanted to be part of the winning team. Marlboro of course paid all the fines. Eachbtime it happened, their official statement was: "We of Marlboro are delighted that Mr. [so-and-so] has decided to join our team. We accept everyone with open arms."

This all didn't go unnoticed by the media. At first they ridiculed the team, for non-stop smoking. After that, as the success and renown of the team started to grow, they started to accuse the team members of using illegal performance enhancing drugs. Some outlets became openly hostile towards them. To stop this, Marlboro had invited all sports hournalists to the Training Facility. After that, most of the smear articles were retracted and replaced by articles stressing the team spirit and unity of team Marlboro, praising the dedication Marlboro showed for the team and that this was the future of sports.

But that was in the past. Now the team stood there, with the cup in their hands. They didn't feel happy, just grateful for Marlboro that they were part of the team. The cup didn't mean anything to them. Ever since they had become part of the team, they had known they had become part of the winning team. Thanks to Marlboro, their aspirations had become so much bigger than winning a piece of metal. Their goal was now to make sure that everyone would know the joy and bliss of Marlboro.

8 MONTHS LATER

Due to the victory of Team Marlboro, the sale of Team Marlboro merchandise sky-rocketed, just like the sale of cigarettes. And the hype didn't die out over time. On the contrary, the numbers increased each month.

Of course, Marlboro had expected this and was well prepared for the next step in the plan. Everywhere in the country new Training Facilities popped up, organizing training camps. Men flocked to them like moths to a flame. They all wanted to become part of the winning team.

Here you see the latest batch. They just finished the training camp. They were ready to play for the winnong team and spread the joy of Marlboro.

#smoking men #ai smoke #cigarette #marlboro #story

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Text

Apple Blossom. Left in Lincoln, pt. 4

7.5k / dads best friend!Joel x virgin!Reader

story master list / joel miller master list

His cheeks turned a little pink and his eyes lit up. He handed you the rag. "What?" you asked. “Nothin',” he said softly and shook his head. “You sure are pretty, darlin’. That’s all.” He dried his hands then gave your butt a squeeze. The moment of domesticity almost made you forget the town was rotting away beneath your feet.

WARNINGS: I8+ mdni, slow-burn horror w/ potentially disturbing implicit content, big girthy age gap (20s/50s), plot, angst, toxic/dark fluff, gaslighting, manipulation, pressure, grooming, grinding, fingering, oral M receiving, pet names and praise. Very TOXIC, dark Joel. Impaired editing.

You fell asleep in Joel’s arms and woke up alone in your bed. The apple blossom was gone from your night stand. You showered and got dressed. You couldn’t find your baseball cap and realized the last time you wore it was in Joel’s orchard. When you came downstairs, Bill and Frank's bedroom door was open. Before you could investigate, you heard screeching outside, then cursing. You ran to the door. Joel was waving his arms and a crow was flying away from him. He had a screwdriver in one hand. He stood up and smoothed his shirt and a feather floated away from him. He was wearing Frank's clothes with his hair freshly slicked back from a shower.

You went outside and looked down at the open vent. You asked, “How’d you get it to come out?”

Joel shrugged with his arms hanging heavy at his sides. "Nowhere else to go. Gotta be patient sometimes.” He bent one knee and put the hand with the screwdriver on his hip, looking up at the roof of the house. He squinted at the chimney. “I reckon we left the fireplace vent open the other night.”

You approached Joel and he extended his free hand for a hug. He stroked your head and looked at you lovingly. You were still taking that in - the fact that Joel told you he loved you. He gave you a kiss on the head and inhaled your scent. Then he went to screw the vent back into the side of the house, and your eyes followed his ass. That was one thing about Joel always having his shirt tucked in - You were very aware of his ass. He was so muscular, almost statuesque to you. His proportions reminded you of classic art.

Joel glanced back as he bent over and your cheeks burned as you looked away from his body.

“Can we plant the strawberries today?” You asked.

“Not the season, darlin’. Won’t survive.”

“Ours are still alive," you said.

“Really?” he asked skeptically.

"Yeah, they just never fruited."

“Show me.” Joel finished screwing the vent back into place then stood up and brushed off his knees.

You led him to the failed strawberry patch and showed him the plants.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Joel said and squatted down to finger the leaves. "You wanna bring’em, guess we can try it."

You were excited to surprise Frank and Bill with fresh strawberries. Once they fruited, maybe you could transplant them somewhere at home too.

"Grab a spade and bucket outta the shed. Some of that cloth, too."

You returned with the requested supplies and Joel said, "Alright, I’ll work on this and you can pick some veggies to take with us if ya want."

“We’re not coming back today?”

“Not ‘til we figure out what’s goin’ on, darlin’.” He put his hands on his knees and stood back up with a groan. “Anything else you wanna plant from here? Arugula?”

You were still processing the idea of leaving home for multiple days. “Sure. Wait, what if we get the computers back up to check the cameras?” you asked. “Then we can see if it’s safe.”

He wiped his brow with the back of the flannel sleeve. “Just looked at ‘em. All static. Lines must've been cut. Been down at least a few days."

"What??" A pit formed in your stomach. This whole time, you should’ve been even more scared than you were. Joel sensed your fear. He stepped forward and put his arm around you. He cradled your head against him. He smelled a little like Frank.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m not leavin’ you again," he reassured you. The low vibration of his voice in his chest was an extra layer to the hug.

You tried to shake off the dark mood that fell over you. "Can we make apple juice?” you asked.

“Sure we can, peaches.”

Joel uprooted some strawberry and arugula while you picked vegetables then brought them inside. You got out the empty apple juice jar to take with you and took the cider jar out of the fridge, too.

Joel walked in and froze. “You’re not drinkin’ that, are ya?”

“No,” you said, but you didn’t want to offend him since he brewed it. “Not right now.”

“But you did?” He stepped forward and looked so serious. Your face went cold.

“Well, no-”

"You shouldn’t be drinkin’ without me, darlin’. It’s not safe.” There was an air of judgment in his voice. You were embarrassed, but shouldn't have been. You were old enough to drink and your house was full of wine. You could have a drink alone if you wanted to. Joel extended his hand and looked at you sternly. “Gimme that.” You felt defensive as if you had done something wrong. Even knowing you hadn't. You suddenly realized you had no idea where his bottle of whiskey was that he left there days ago. He might have thought you drank it, too. You were mortified.

“I was just gonna pour it out so we could use the jar,” you explained as he opened the cider. Joel's face softened and he poured it out in the sink.

“Got plenty of jars at home, baby. Good idea though." He rinsed the jar then patted the back of your head tenderly. It wasn't enough to soothe the feeling of being scolded, but the feeling would fade. You had bigger things to worry about anyway. He just wanted to keep you safe.

On the walk to Joel’s house, you told him all about the night before. How Abe didn’t come by, then you heard Abe's truck, but didn’t see him. You told him about the songs playing on the radio station, which gave you chills to even think about.

Joel heard the distress in your voice and stopped dead in his tracks, disturbed. “Sorry I wasn’t there, darlin’. Never shoulda left ya." He took a deep, ragged breath in. He cupped your cheek. “Guess I didn’t wanna be a bother if ya didn't want me stickin' around.”

You felt a wave of guilt for sending him home each night. You imagined him walking alone in the dark worrying about you, thinking he was bothering you.

"It's okay, Joel," you reassured him. "I should've asked you to stay."

"It's not okay, baby.” He shook his head at himself, then looked at you with grave concern. “What if somethin' happened?"

"Well, I guess it didn’t. I'm okay," you said.

He sighed and cradled the back of your head.

"But I'm worried about Abe," you added.

Joel dropped his hand, and looked off into the distance, jaw muscle flexing.

"What if he's in trouble?" you asked.

Joel took a deep breath and looked in the direction of Abe’s property. "Tell ya what, darlin'. I'll go check on him today, how’s that sound?”

The distress melted away from your face. “Thank you,” you gushed and wrapped him in a hug. He kissed the top of your head.

A bird cried and both of you turned toward the sound. It was a crow. It followed you the rest of the way to Joel's house, squawking obnoxiously.

It was your first time being in Joel’s house. It was about as neat and clean as you expected for the most part. It smelled woodsy and nutty, like pine and almonds, and faintly of apples. He led you upstairs to a spare bedroom and left you there to get settled in. He said to let him know if you needed anything.

You walked around the room and picked things up. There was a dresser, a vanity, and a mirror. On top of the vanity was a jewelry box and a hairbrush. A stationary set. There was a stool at the vanity and a box fan on the floor.

Everything was so perfect and comfortable. It was what you imagined a hotel might be like. Clean and cozy. You sat down on the neatly made bed and took your shoes off. Joel came back a few minutes later and stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He looked around the room then nervously put his hands in his pockets. He asked, "What do you think?"

"It's amazing."

He looked relieved. He came over to sit next to you on the bed. "Good," he said. He smiled and his eyes scanned your body. He caressed your neck and planted a kiss on your cheek.

"Can we pick apples to make the juice today?"

"Not today, darlin'. Not 'til we're sure it's safe." He raised your hand to his mouth and kissed it. "Got some apples in the kitchen, though."

Joel made lunch and told you about the different improvements he made to the house and orchard in the past few years. You asked for a tour and he said you could have one after he knew the community was secure. He got up and took the dishes to the sink. He turned on the water to wash them and you got up and volunteered to do them instead. It seemed only fair since he made lunch. You stood next to him at the sink and reached for the rag. His cheeks turned a little pink and his eyes lit up. He hesitantly handed you the rag with a slight smile.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothin',” he said softly and shook his head, looking at the floor. He looked back up at you and sucked his bottom lip. “You sure are pretty, darlin’. That’s all.” He dried his hands on a clean towel, then gave your butt a little squeeze. You smiled and giggled silently. The moment of domesticity made you forget the town was rotting away beneath your feet.

Joel moved to stand close behind you and put his hands on your hips. He spoke softly into the crown of your head. “I'll go take a look around the neighborhood and check on Abe.”

You turned your head and nodded, “thank you, Joel.”

His voice got low and serious, but remained gentle. “Stay here. Don't go outside.”

You nodded again.

“You don't answer the door for anyone but me. Real important, okay?"

You put down the dish in your hand and turned around to face him fully. "Okay."

"Even if you think you know 'em. Don't know who could be infected." He swallowed regretfully.

You nodded in agreement, "Okay."

His hands on either side of your hips casually caged you against the sink. He gently pressed his hips, then his lips into yours.

“Back before sundown,” he muttered.

He put on a jacket, went down to the cellar, and returned with two firearms. He handed you a pistol, put on his jacket, and kissed you goodbye. He winked as he left, then locked the door behind him from the outside.

While Joel was out, you got curious and bored. You walked around the house. The first door you tried to open was locked. The second one led down to the cellar. You took a few steps down and tried to reach the light string that hung from the ceiling. it swung away. After another step down, the door behind you began to close. You panicked and lunged up the stairs to keep it open. That was stupid. You could have gotten locked in. You scurried up the stairs back into the living room. Once you caught your breath, you shut the door behind you and didn't go back.

Another door was a closet. Jackets, hats, boots. You saw an old Red Sox hat and your heart skipped a beat. Your first thought was Jesse. Your heart pounded in your chest and you weren’t sure why. It was probably yours. Joel must have scooped it up when you left it in the orchard. It could have faded from the elements. You had the strongest urge to touch and smell the hat, but you didn’t dare disturb it. Joel seemed like the type to know exactly how things were. You didn't want him to know you were snooping.

You didn’t try any more doors after that. You went back to the kitchen. You opened the pantry and there were two crates of jars, one of them locked. You looked around the opposite counter from where you had been doing the dishes. A basket of apples, a jar of apple seeds. A fresh branch in a vase of water with a budding blossom. You held up the vase and smelled the bud.

You were startled from the moment by a faint scraping and clinking sound outside. You fumbled the vase and almost dropped it but caught it. Your pulse sped up and your eyes darted to the window. You put the vase down and walked to the kitchen door which looked out into the backyard and orchard. You put your hand on the knob, then changed your mind, Joel’s cautionary words fresh in your ears. You stood at the window and looked. You didn’t see anything. You heard it again. It sounded like it was coming from the back of the orchard, which you couldn’t see. All you saw was dirt, grass, a fire pit, neat rows of tree after tree, dead leaves tumbling across the ground with the wind. Maybe it was the wind.

When you heard it again, you were unsettled enough to step away from the window. You went back up to the bedroom, figuring it was the safest place. You covered yourself in the quilt and hugged one of several pillows, waiting for Joel's return, hiding, praying no one was around. Hoping no one could possibly know you were there. Grateful you weren't home alone at a time like this. You kept the bedroom door open so you'd be able to see trouble if it came.

You dozed off and awoke when the back door to the kitchen unlocked downstairs. Your heart raced and it took a moment to remember where you were. It was almost dusk outside. You quietly slid out from under the quilt and prepared to cautiously venture downstairs, assuming it was Joel who just came in the house. A door closed downstairs, then the water heater turned on. You pulled the quilt back over you and turned off the light, waiting in the dark. After about ten minutes of lying there slowing your heart rate, the water turned off. A few minutes later, a door opened downstairs again. You wished you could fast forward to the next time you'd be in Joel's arms.

You felt a presence. "Joel?" It came out far quieter than you intended, but you were too afraid to repeat it louder. The stairs quietly creaked with padded footsteps. The creaking got closer and closer, then stopped. You sat frozen, looking at a looming shadow in the hall, trying to make sense of it as Joel’s silhouette. The shape looked jagged, angry, nothing like him.

“Peaches?” his voice made you jump; it was much closer than you thought. Your hand came to your chest as he stepped into view and asked, “You okay? Thought you might be nappin', didn't wanna wake ya up.'”

"I'm okay," you said and took a deep breath. "What's going on?"

Joel approached the bed and sat down with his hand on your knee. He was freshly showered and dressed in his own clothes again.

"I think Abe left, darlin'."

"Left?? Why??"

"I dunno, sugar. It was like he just packed up."

You were stunned. Abe couldn't possibly have packed up and left. This didn't explain anything at all. You'd have to see it to believe it.

"No. He wouldn't just leave," you said and got de ja vu. You were quiet. Nothing felt right. You spent the whole afternoon scared and alone, and now this?

"Sorry, peaches. Didn't know you were close."

"We weren't. I just - I'm surprised. He didn't say anything this week, did he?"

"Sure didn't."

"Just like Jesse,” you whispered.

Joel inhaled through his nose as though calming himself.

“I don't understand it," you said.

Joel was quiet for a moment. "People leave, darlin'. But I promise you I won't. Not ever."

You mustered half a grateful smile and indulged him. “Promise?”

"Never.” He looked gravely serious. “Not unless I take you with me,” he said softer.

“Thanks,” you said.

He shook his head. “I mean it, peaches. Nothin' in this world could take me away from you." He stroked your thigh and leaned in for a much-needed kiss.

Then he put his arm around you, rubbed your shoulder, and leaned his temple against yours. You sat side by side on the bed in silence for a minute, then Joel said, “been a rough day or two, huh?"

You nodded pensively.

"I know what we need."

"What?"

"How 'bout a special dinner?” he lifted your chin with his finger and your eyes met his affectionately. "There she is."

"Okay."

"Put on somethin' nice, I'll get cookin'."

“Oh, I didn’t bring much,” you said, embarrassed.

“Let's check the closet,” he said with a wink. "See what got left behind."

He kissed you on the head and stood up. It was a shallow closet that rolled open from two doors to expose a single rack of clothes. He rolled open the left door and there were five or six dresses. They didn't look like anything Ellie or Tess would wear and you didn't know who else could have left them behind. Whoever lived there before, you supposed.

Joel pulled out two coathangers. A floral wrap dress and a low cut burgundy sweater dress. "See what ya like," he said softly with a sparkle in his eye. "Take your time. I'll get cookin'." He winked and put the hangers back in the closet before leaving you to the task.

You stayed seated on the bed and stared into space for a while, thinking about Abe. Then you got up and put on the burgundy dress. It was a perfect fit. You stood in front of the vanity as the smell of fried rabbit wafted upstairs. You primped yourself and touched your neck, looking yourself in the eyes. You wanted to be happy, but your eyes were sad. You opened a dresser drawer looking for socks. Sure enough, there was a small drawer full of socks and stockings. Another drawer full of underwear, and even the same type of fabric washable pads you had to use for your period. You dreaded your period coming in a few days. That probably wasn't helping your mood.

Joel served a candlelit dinner at a card table in his living room. He said it was safer away from the windows at night. He wanted to give it another day or two to make sure the community was safe. He was walking to the table with a bottle of wine and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you in the dress. He put down the bottle and said. "My lands, peaches." He wet his lips. "C'mere, gorgeous." He rubbed your forearms with his thumbs and looked you up and down. "You're so goddamn beautiful," he whispered.

"You look nice, too," you said. He chuckled. He wasn't wearing anything out of the ordinary but he always looked nice. He took your head in both hands and kissed you softly. Then he looked at you again, wrapped his arms around you, and kissed you harder with an "Mmm," into your mouth.

He pulled out your chair for you at the table. He poured your wine, served you salad with no cucumbers, rabbit, eggplant, and applesauce. The salad dressing was incredible. He made it himself. "secret's in the basil" he said proudly. "Gotta mash it up real good, let the flavor out. If ya like it, we got more to plant out back. Rosemary, too. Make us a little herb garden.” You smiled. The applesauce was amazing, too.

He got up and retrieved a stone bowl from the counter. "Fresh cinnamon sticks. I crush’em up dry first. Then add just a little apple to the cinnamon, mash it up so it’s all wet, then add that to the rest at the end." He tasted the cinnamon mixture with his finger. “Kinda spicy.” He dipped his pinky for more and held it up to your mouth. "Go on," he said. You held eye contact with him as your tongue met his pinky. The cinnamon was strong. Delicious. He took a deep breath as you sucked his digit clean. "Good girl," he whispered, watching you in a trance. He put the bowl back on the counter. “Use it for cobbler, too. We can make some if ya want.” You never knew Joel was such a good chef.

You ate quietly. You wanted to let Joel’s nice dinner take your mind off things, but it didn't. You didn't want to grill him about Abe's house or say anything negative at all since he put so much effort into the meal. He put so much effort into making you feel good in general. So you tried to pretend you were okay, but he sensed your mood.

After cleaning up from dinner, the two of you sat down on his sofa in the living room. He brought whiskey and a bag of pills and put them on the coffee table with two glasses. “Need a good night’s sleep,” he muttered as he sat down and poured a glass. “How ‘bout you?”

You didn’t say anything.

“What’s wrong, peaches?”

You were quiet, but he didn’t let you off the hook. He looked at you, expecting an answer. Finally, you blurted out, “I’m lonely.”

Joel looked confused. “We’re together now, baby."

The tears welled up over your eyes. “Not right this second. I mean in general.”

Joel swallowed, then nodded. “Must get lonely on your own. Why don’t you stay here with me?” He took a sip, put down his drink, and scooted closer. He rubbed your back.

You ignored his offer, frustrated that he didn't get it or didn’t care. “Everyone's gone,” you said and started to cry. “Everyone left.”

Joel’s face darkened and his jaw clenched. His body tensed and he stopped rubbing your back. He sank back into the sofa and clasped his hands in his lap. You turned around to face him, expecting more comfort, but he didn’t look at you or open his arms.

“Not sure what to say to that, peaches," he said flatly. He took another sip of his drink. "You mean the world to me, and it sounds like I’m nobody to you.”

“Of course not,” you said. Your heart dropped at your foolishness. Here was the one person you had left. The best person who could possibly be left. Someone who would take care of you no matter what it took. Someone who cared more about you than anything or anyone else. And instead of being grateful, you acted like he was nothing.

Joel nodded slowly, looking down with a scowl. He swallowed.

You said, "I just miss them, that's all."

His eyes intensified and he took a deep, calming breath.

“Bill and Frank, I mean,” you clarified, desperate not to make it worse.

"I know ya do," he said in a near whisper, still looking down.

You continued, your tears slowing but not stopping. "It doesn't feel right here with everyone gone."

“Doesn’t feel right here,” he repeated. He raised his eyebrows and bit his tongue, sticking it into his cheek.

You looked away, sensing that you hurt him but unsure what to do. You sat in silence for what felt like several minutes, both of you looking straight ahead. Your back felt so cold without him comforting you.

When you looked back at Joel, his eyes were glistening. “You're enough for me, peaches.” His voice cracked. “You’re all I need in the world.” He dabbed his eye and your heart broke. "Nothin' feels more right than bein' with you. I love you that much.”

No one ever made you feel that way before, like you were their entire world. His affection overwhelmed you. It felt like he cared as much about you as Bill and Frank, just in a different way.

"I love you too, Joel." You squeezed his thigh reassuringly.

“No, darlin'. I’m in love with you. I don’t care about anything else.”

You turned toward him and tried to meet his eyes. “I’m in love with you, too.”

He finally stroked your back. “You might think so, darlin’.” He sighed. “And I ‘preciate you sayin’ it. . . But when you say, ‘it doesn’t feel right here’. . .” He dabbed his eye again. “I gotta wonder.”

“I do, Joel.”

“I dunno if you understand love, darlin’. Or you wouldn’t say that. And you wouldn’t feel lonely.”

You were overwhelmed and confused. It didn’t make sense to you. “I wouldn’t miss my parents?”

“Course you’d miss’em,” he conceded. “But you wouldn’t feel lonely.”

“Guess that’s what I meant,” you said. He nodded and his face warmed slightly. "Plus, I'm worried about Frank," you said and started crying again. Something was tugging at your gut. You felt worse, not better.

Joel started to say something, but didn't. He rubbed your back. “I know, darlin’. He poured you a glass of whiskey and composed himself. “They’d be proud of ya, how you’re doin’.”

You laughed through your tears. “Sorry,” you sniffled. “I didn’t mean I was lonely. I’m not.”

“Okay, darlin’,” he whispered

You couldn’t tell if he really forgave you. Your whole face felt tense.

Joel looked at you and a look of deep concern washed across his face, realizing how bad he made you feel. “Hey, hey. . . . c’mere. . . “ He rubbed your back. You scooted closer and hugged him from the side. He brought your far leg into his lap so you were twisted over him. “Shhhh,” he said and kissed your forehead, but something was still off about him. “It’s okay, baby.” He softened but still felt more distant than usual, like he wasn’t sure he could believe you. The distance made you panic.

“I love you, I really do,” you said.

He drank the rest of his whiskey and bent forward to put the glass down, then stretched his arm out on top of the sofa. You tucked one leg under yourself and rested the other leg over his lap. He draped his hand on your knee, but didn’t make a move to pull you closer. You climbed into his lap, suddenly more concerned about his feelings than anything else.

You wanted to be closer to him, as close as possible. You wanted him wrapped around you, inside you. You wanted to be a part of him and for him to be a part of you. You kissed him on the cheek. He smiled but didn’t look at you, not really. He looked at your eyes but it felt like he was looking past them. “Joel,” you whined, eyes welling up at the lack of validation. You cupped his face in both your hands and kissed him. His lips pressed softly into yours. You looked back and forth between his eyes, trying to connect enough to show him how much you meant it.

“I wanna be with you,” you whispered. “I don’t care about anything else.”

Something behind his eyes flickered on. “You mean that, peaches? You don’t care about anything else?”

You nodded and pressed your lips into his again.

He asked, “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

His hands embraced your back and the affection returned to his eyes full-force like it was in the morning. He wet his lips.

“Good,” he whispered. “It’s you and me, darlin’. We only got each other.”

You nodded.

He looked from your eyes to your mouth and back, closed his eyes, cradled the back of your head, and kissed you deeply. He held you and kissed you, the taste of whiskey fading after a few seconds as your mouths combined. He pulled you closer into his lap and his jeans hardened against your dress and panties, making your core tingle. He moaned into your mouth and your panties moistened rapidly. His cock was big, and feeling it get so hard just for you made you feel special. Earlier, when you said you wanted him inside you, he said you were still being shy with him. He said you hadn’t even touched it yet, that you weren’t giving him everything.

You wanted to show him you could give him everything. His big hands pulled you close and his hips lifted your body as he licked into your mouth. His hard cock pressed perfectly against your clit as his hips moved. You reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, then tugged his shirt up and he let you untuck it. He was truly in the moment. He was yours. You gently grabbed at the bulge in his jeans – it was more than a handful – and he thrust into your palm with a sigh.

You broke the kiss to unzip his jeans, and he watched you like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. You slid your hand into his pants and softly gasped as you felt the stiff outline of his cock through his boxers. His hips lifted into your hand with a soft grunt and he said, “Givin’ me everything, aren’t ya baby?”

You nodded earnestly. He slid his hand between your legs, ghosting your clit over your panties, making you moan.

“Wanna make you feel good,” you whispered, groping his hard cock and feeling a wet spot at the tip.

“Always feel good when I'm with you, darlin’.”

“Want it in my mouth,” you said.

He inhaled sharply. “Fuck, darlin’.” His eyes widened. “That what you want?”

“Yeah,” you nodded and got down on the carpet.

You got out of the way while he took his jeans off for you.

He spread his knees again and pulled the waistband of his boxers down below his balls. He wrapped his fingers around the shaft with his thumb at the tip. Butterflies swarmed between your legs at the sight of his strong hand holding his cock at attention for you. You nestled yourself between his legs.

“You sure?” he asked and looked you over.

You wet your lips and nodded without taking your eyes off his imposing cock.

“Alright, darlin’.” He looked at you with pride and curiosity.

You held his cock at the base and opened your mouth, hovering over the tip.

“Just a little kiss,” he murmured.

You pressed your lips against the tip and kissed it, sucking the salty precum into your mouth.

“Good girl,” he sighed. “Now a little at a time.”

You wrapped your lips around the tip and licked it, looking up at his face for approval. The look on his face made you wet. Joel sighed and tried not to lift his hips. “Good. Doin’ great, baby.”

You sucked a little more of him into your mouth. He was so big, the head alone seemed to stretch your jaw.

“Good, baby. Nice and slow, not too much.” His velvety tip grazed the roof of your mouth. You throbbed between the legs, wishing so badly to have him there instead. But you had to show him you could give him everything.

You braced the shaft at the base and the humidity of his salt and pepper hair made you throb more. You sucked and tongued his shaft and looked up at him for approval.

“Good girl,” he nodded. His validation made you slurp more of him into your mouth, a little too much, and you started gagging.

“Easy, darlin’, hold on,” he chuckled. “Take a breather,” he said.

You were a little embarrassed. “I wanna do it,” you whispered.

“Okay,” he smiled. “How ‘bout you lick it, get it real wet for us.”

You salivated at the sight of his cock in his hand and licked him from base to tip three times - once on the underside, and once from each side.

“Now use your hand, darlin’.” You hesitantly wrapped your fingers and thumb around his shaft and he swelled into your hand. His cock dwarfed your fingers, making you wetter. You were salivating.

You asked, “Are you sure you don’t want my mouth?”

“Darlin’, I love your hands.”

He covered your hand with his and stroked himself with it.

His hips thrust into your hand and it was so easy to imagine yourself impaled on his cock, it was all you could think about.

“Give it another kiss, baby.”

You brought the tip into your mouth again, then licked his cock from base to tip and sucked the head again, curiously tonguing the salty slit. You left as much saliva as you could.

“Good girl,” he murmured and took your hand in his again.

You ached to have him inside you. You wet your lips thirstily.

He watched your face as his breath grew heavier. “Whatcha thinkin’ bout, peaches?”

You had a feeling he knew. You looked down at his cock then back up at him, then away.

“Don’t be shy, baby.”

You looked up and made eye contact. “Putting our bodies together,” you said breathily and watched his face melt into a puddle of want.

He inhaled through his nose, then murmured, “Want that real bad, don’t ya?”

You nodded.

“Why’s that, darlin’?” His lips glistened and his eyes were half-lidded.

“Wanna feel you inside me.”

He breathed heavier as your hands slid up and down on his shaft. He asked, “How ya think it’s gonna feel?”

“I’m gonna be full of you. Attached to you.”

“Yeah, you will,” he nodded. His grip tightened around your hand as he stroked himself. “You’ll be so full of me, baby. ..”

“I really wanna be,” you whispered. You wanted it so bad you could cry. “I need to be.”

“You will be, baby,” he said soothingly. “You want your mouth filled up now?”

“Yeah,” you hovered your mouth near his cock again.

“Go ‘head, baby. Take it, it’s yours.” He took his hand away and put it gently on the back of your head.

You sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth again and made eye contact as you sucked.

He groaned and his thumb stroked the nape of your neck, then he lifted his hips and erupted in your mouth. His warm, salty spend hit the roof of your mouth, then the tip slid back along your palate, and he pulsed again. More cum hit the back of your throat. Your eyes watered and you swallowed.

“You did so good, baby.”

He tucked his cock into his boxers and spooned you on the sofa.

“Why’s it feel so good, doing that?” you asked.

“Doin’ what?”

“Just having it in my mouth.”

“S’posed to, baby. Your body’s gettin’ ready for mine.” His words sent a pang of desire between your legs. “Turns you on, right?” He reached under your dress and stroked your panties from the outside. He felt the dampness and murmured, “Guess it does.”

“A lot,” you said. He began stroking your clit rhythmically over the cotton. Your hips started to move on their own in his hand. You moaned softly.

He slid his hand into the front of your panties and thumbed your soft curls. “It’s ‘cause your special parts think I’m fixin’ to put mine right here.” He dipped his middle finger into the pool of wetness hanging at your entrance.

“I wish you would,” you sighed.

He groaned softly at those words, the blood already flowing back to his loins. “You really do, huh?” His voice was low and soft. “You really wanna be full of me.” He wet his fingers with your slick and began gently circling your clit. “Attached to me.”

“Yeah,” you said. “More than anything.”

“Love hearin’ that, peaches.” He held you tighter.

“I wanna give you everything,” you said.

“Gotta be ready, darlin’,” he said into the crown of your head.

“I’m ready.”

“Your body too, angel.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“My body wants yours so bad,” you whined.

“Wantin’ it’s not enough, baby.”

You groaned in frustration.

“Well. . . you tell me, darlin’. You’ve had it in your mouth now. Think it’ll fit in this sweet little hole?” he swirled his finger around.

“I dunno,” you sighed. Your body didn’t care, it wanted whatever he would give you. “I’m sorry,” you muttered.

“For what?”

“Not having my body ready.”

“Oh peaches, I’m glad you’re not. It’ll be a privilege gettin’ you there.” He gently circled your clit.

“Really?”

“Of course, darlin’,” he said softly. “Sometimes they bloom late for a reason.” He dipped his finger into your wetness again. “And this one’s just for me, ain’t it?”

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“We’ll get there, baby. We’ll get there in time.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Let’s see how much you can handle,” he said. “See what it’ll take to get there.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Please.” You lifted your thigh to make more room for his hand.

He slowly slid half his middle finger into your tight, wet heat. You moaned at his first intrusion.

He sucked air in through his teeth. “How’s that feel, baby?”

“I want more.”

He took a deep breath and pushed his finger all the way in.

You whimpered, “yeah,” as your body adjusted.

“God damn,” he whispered as your cunt hugged his digit.

He curled his finger just slightly and you moaned again. “It’s so thick,” you said.

“See? Got a long way to go.” His cock twitched against your ass.

“No, it feels good,” you said as he slowly moved his finger inside you. “I want more.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you answered impatiently.

“Just one more.” You squinted in frustration. Why just one more?

He took his middle finger out and flattened it alongside his ring finger. He slid them up and down your slippery seam before slowly plunging them inside together. It was a tight squeeze. “God damn,” he breathed. He paused half-way in.

“Feels so good,” you panted. “Keep going,” you begged.

“Don’t wanna hurt ya.”

“Doesn’t hurt at all.”

He slowly sank his two fingers into you completely. “Real snug,” he muttered. “You sure it doesn’t hurt?”

“Too snug? Is that bad?”

“No, no, not at all, baby. But it’s gonna take time to be ready.” He began to move the heel of his palm against your clit and you grinded back against it.

“God, Joel,” you sighed.

“Gonna take time,” he repeated. “‘fore you’re ready for this,” he said with a thrust of his hips, grinding himself into your ass, already fully erect again. He thrust against you again with a soft grunt.

You asked “You want it too, don’t you?”

“Course I do, baby,” he panted. “Gotta feel good for both of us, though. Gotta do it right.” He kissed your head and curled his fingers inside you, digging the meat of his hand against your clit again. “Gotta be real special.”

Your clit twitched against his hand and he said, “C’mon, baby,” moving his hand at a slow rhythm. “Every time you come, gets us closer to what we want.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sugar.” He breathed heavily with his body enveloping yours, pumping his fingers deep in your cunt, pressing his palm against your clit.

You let your hips grind back unrestrained.

“There ya go, darlin’,” he said, pressing his hard cock against you as he moved his fingers. “Yeah, just like that.”

You closed your eyes and pretended his fingers were his cock. You knew his cock would feel even better.

“Can’t wait to be inside ya, baby,” he whispered. “Nothin’ I want more.” He slowly pumped his fingers deeper into you as your body opened up for him. “Wanna slide into this tight little hole,” he panted, his cock rutting gently against your ass. “Want you wrapped around me.” He rubbed his palm against your front. “Yeah. . .wrapped so tight around me, baby. Like ya can’t pull us apart” Your hips grinded into his hand with your climax in sight. “Gonna have you so full of me,” he breathed, then he moaned with a harder thrust against you. “Joined together,” he added. “Forever, baby. It’s forever,” he whispered in your ear. “Me and you.” You whined on the edge of your climax. “C’mon, baby,” he whispered, pumping his fingers, rocking his palm, grinding against your ass.

He thrust against your ass with a grunt, and his grunt in your ear was enough for you to see stars. “Joel,” you whined.

“Yeah,” he said as your climax seized you. You whimpered as you came. “Yeah, I got ya, baby,” he whispered. “Good girl.” He kissed your head.

He held you and caressed you as you bathed in the afterglow. It gave you clarity on how wrong you were earlier. You felt the things he felt. You realized how hurt you would have been if he said the same things – That he was lonely, that it didn’t feel right there.

“I’m not lonely,” you whispered. “And of course it feels right, bein’ with you.”

“Okay, baby.” He kissed your head.

“Guess I meant the town didn’t feel. . .” You meant the town. Your stomach dropped as you realized it.

The town. If Abe was really gone, you and Joel were the only two people left in Lincoln. Joel was the town. You couldn’t put your finger on why, but you felt like you might be sick.

“I know, darlin’,” he said obliviously. “But in a way, it’s nice we have this time together.” His arms tightened around you. “Silver lining. Right?” He sighed. “We’re together, don’t care about nothin’ else.”

“Right,” you whispered and tried not to think about it. You shivered and Joel rubbed your arms. “It’s chilly down here. Let’s get you tucked into bed.”

Joel showed you the restroom and your toiletries and towels. He offered you a painkiller to help you sleep. You didn’t want to take it, but he left it on the nightstand with a glass of whiskey in case you needed it. “Know it’s weird, sleepin’ somewhere new,” he said. He took a nightgown out of the dresser for you. He kissed you good night, then shut your door behind him.

You woke up in the middle of the night when you heard something metal clang then rumble outside. You felt safer with Joel in the house, but you wanted his arms around you. Maybe he’d let you climb in his bed. Surely he wouldn’t turn you away. He was being a gentleman, offering you a bed of your own. You opened your bedroom door as quietly as possible and gathered the courage to go downstairs.

Downstairs, you pushed his bedroom door open. “Joel?” you whispered. He didn’t answer. “Joel?” There was a flickering glow outside his window, which made it harder to see the inside of the room until your eyes adjusted.

He wasn’t in bed. Not the bathroom, either. You sat down on his bed and smoothed your hand over his pillow. You dipped your nose into the cotton and inhaled his scent, closing your eyes. It gave you a rush of comfort. A metal clang jolted you back to the moment and the flickering light brightened for a moment. Your heart raced. You carefully peeked out the window and faintly saw what looked to be the silhouette of Joel standing over a burning barrel. You felt like you should go back upstairs, as much as you wanted to curl up in his bed, inhaling his scent.

Your heart was beating too fast to get back to sleep, and you didn’t know why. You paced around the room and looked out the window. You sat at the vanity. You looked in the drawers. You were waiting to hear the door open downstairs. Then you could pretend to come down for the first time. Joel would comfort you, kiss you, cuddle you to sleep. But the door didn’t open downstairs. You paced more and sat on the bed. You opened the closet and looked at the dresses again. You held one up in the mirror.

You opened the other closet door and something caught your eye. In the back, on the very last hanger, there was a dress that made your breath hitch. White with lace sleeves. The longer you looked at it, the more butterflies gathered in your chest. Maybe your eyes betrayed you. It was too dark to tell. You closed the closet, took the painkiller, and got back in bed. You listened out for the door and tried to conjure the feeling of Joel’s arms around you. That was all you wanted.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Thank you for your patience, too. I love you guys!!!

I'm not sure if there will be one more part or two; I have to see how it writes. I feel like probably two, but it could be one long one with a little bit of a time jump.

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor

Lincoln: @fan-fiction-floozy @ivyblxnde @lhymer1995 @sugarspiceanthrax @isimpforfictionalmen @zynbsblogg @swedishscumfuck @sadgirlstoohightocare @steveharringtonswh0re @skythighs @aoziety @leeeesahhh @jupitersmoon-cal @peekymoon @dtfawn

(ct'd in comments or reblogs)

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leah-lover · 6 months

Text

Arrogance. Alexia putellas x reader.

Let me know if you want a part 2.

You loved winning more than anything or anyone in the entire world and that was your biggest flaw. Brought up in the US soccer system, you were taught that winning is everything. You had set the precedent of joining the US women's national team as early as 17 years old which had never been done before. You were smart both academically and tactically. You graduated high school early, went to college early and proceeded to win the national championship all 4 years.

Your life always took the back seat to winning. You didn't have many friends. You didn't go out or party. You trained hard, you took care of your body, and followed a strict fitness routine. You were overall the best in your generation.

Being labeled as the best of your generation got into your head early in your life. Your strict regime made it hard for you to make friends and your cockiness and pride didn't help either. You were friendly but nobody ever dared to become your friend.

After college you moved on to the NWSL in which you won MVP , rookie of the year, and the championship in your first and second year. You had also won the world but at the same time. However, winning didn't fill the gap in your life that it once did. You didn't have to prove yourself anymore, you were renowned in the whole world as the best, everybody wanted to be you but no one wanted to be with you not long term at least. You were notorious for hooking up with people but you didn't want them to stay over for breakfast

As the years went on the international competition got harder. You were still the best but an upcoming Spaniard was raining on your parade. You were both head to head in matchies, a few tackles landing you warnings and yellow cards, and in awards. Both having very good stats you are head to head for the ballon d'or which she won that year.

You didn't talk to each other much. You can recall talking one or twice to each other . but you talked about one another a lot. The media seemed to spit you both against one another. You started hating each other in real life.

This summer your contract with Seattle fc came to its end and you chose not to renew. Offers were flying by but the one that caught your attention was Barcelona's offer.

They were willing to spend 1 million dollars on you. It was a precedent. No club had ever paid this much for a transfer. Thrie offer sticked your ego so much you accepted.

You have been playing at Barcelona for almost a season, scoring a hatrick at every game. Your relationship with your teammates didn't change. You were still space out.

The most important relationship was with your captain. Your rivalry with her was the second headline out of the b transfer. But you didn't pay her or the rivalry any attention.

Tonight you have achieved something you wanted to do for a long time. You have won the champion’s league. The locker room was celebrating the win and chanting your name. While everybody was dancing Alexia came to approached you and said “ congrats and thank u american”

“ no need capi.” you responded.

The flight back was fun, people were singing and dancing but the only thing you thought about was alexia. Her smell, her hand on your shoulder, her being thankful for you. You found yourself looking over to her from time to time. You weren't like this, you didn't day dream about people especially not the captain.

The celebration party took place in a bar. You were a few dink in when you looked over to you right yo find Alexia nursing a flute filled with champagne.

“Why aren't you dancing?” She asked.

“ I am not the type plus i am pretty sure y'all hate me.”

“And why is that “

“Don't know just a feeling.”

After that I went outside. I didn't smoke much but the nerves Alexia was giving me deserved some nicotine. As soon as I lit the cigarette I felt her hazel eyes glaring at me.

“ These things are gonna kill you, you know.”

“ I want to die young plus nobody would give a shit.”

“ I would give a shit if the most important person in my club was killing herself because she can't man up enough to talk to people. You hide behind your accomplishments. But you are just a normal girl just like any of us. You need people beside you.”

“ You are wrong about me. I am not scared of talking to people; they just would never understand me. I am a control freak. I don't like to give it up. People tend to hate that about me ” I say as I take the last puff of my cigarette. My eyes don't leave hers and the tension is through the roof.

“ I like to lose control from time to time.”

“ Capitana please don't play with me”

“ Currently I am not playing with you. Let me make you a deal. You go inside, have some fun and I will let you do what you want with the information you just heard.”

“ Why are you doing this?”

“ I don't know, I just care, I guess.

#alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas imagine #alexia x reader #alexia putellas #woso #woso fanfics #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader

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theconstantsidekick · 3 months

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Lit Cigarettes (Part 1)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x BestFriend!Reader, Damon Salvatore x Stefan Salvatore x Sister!Reader (mentioned) Genre: Angsty Fluff

Summary: Y/n decides that Dean Winchester really needs to know how she feels about him.

(Set after the events of Supernatural season 4 and yes, Y/n is technically a Salvatore. I love the adopted sibling trope, can you tell?)

a/n: I have another part in mind if this does well.

Warnings: Smoking, mentions of smoking, romanticisation of smoking, a lot of that yes, sorry. Don't smoke kids.

Part 2 is here

He used to light her cigarettes when she was too busy talking. That’s what love is. According to her, that is the truest, most genuine form of love. The idea might sound quite contradictory, somehow. But it would make sense to smokers all around the world.

The thought that somebody would just pluck the cigarette out of your hand, light it, take a little puff to keep the light aflame and just place it back between your index and middle finger. That’s somehow so painfully selfless that it can’t be classified as anything other than the most romantic act known to mankind.

Now, the tragedy of it all was that that was the only showing of love she ever got from him. All she ever got was a lit cigarette handed off to her while she was too invested in spewing absolutely random bullshit about the sensors on automatic doors at some blackwater motel in an unnamed town. He’d do it quietly. He wasn’t quiet but there was always a quietness about him. Not quiet in the truest definition of the word. He was quiet in a different way, he talked. He was always charming, never not charming. He smiled and charmed everyone further still, but it felt like a very well rehearsed performance. His words, his charm, his smile seemed rehearsed, practiced relentlessly. A stark contrast to how they talked, when he talked to her and just her. Or well, so she thought until she found out that he could talk with a genuine smile to just about anyone unless there was a room full of people. Until the day she found that out, she felt quite special about it.

She felt important to him, enough for him to talk around her more, smoke around her more and light her cigarettes when she was too busy talking.

He never smoked around anyone else, hid the bad habit from his brother, but never her. It made her feel like there was a precarious unspoken bond between the two of them that could break at the mere mention of it. Could it?

She’s going to find out.

“Dean,” she calls out in no urgency, with a quiet calm. They are packing up their things, leaving the small motel room behind for another one in another town. Sam’s out at the reception, settling the bill. He’ll be back soon, she needs to wrap this up before he comes back.

“Yeah?” Dean answers, never looking up from the duffle bag he’s aggressively shoving his clothes into.

“I love you.”

Dean’s motion halted at once. He doesn’t move, she thinks maybe he can’t move.

“Dean?”

The man in front of her gulps, audibly. “Yeah?”

“I love you.” It feels important to reiterate in this case.

“I—” Words seem to be straining him. “I heard you the first time.”

“Good,” she tells him and then resumes packing her shit. But there’s a few more things to add, “I know we don’t talk about it, I know we aren’t supposed to. I know you’ve always known that I loved you and we still never talk about it, which means you don’t feel the same way, which again, I know. I am not trying to change your mind, I’m not trying to get into your pants. I’m certainly not asking you to love me back. I am not asking for anything actually, so you can quit looking so fucking terrified. I just needed to tell you because you up and died and it felt like my life stopped, like I couldn’t fucking breathe anymore. I felt hollow and broken and it felt wrong to be alive…” He looks at her then. Her voice is so thick with emotions, even though she is trying to keep them at bay, he must have felt compelled to look at her, she muses.

Shaking her head, she exhales audibly. “But you’re back now and I just needed to say it. I’ve loved you since I first saw you when I was 13. I don’t know how to not be in love with you, trust me, I’ve tried. So, I've learnt to make peace with it. I definitely don’t need you to say something, I just needed you to know that I love you, always have, most probably I always will. I need you to know that you are loved.”

There is silence then, no words, just the sound of her footsteps as she goes around the room picking up things she wants to shove into her bag.

“I…” Dean tries. But the words fade away just as quickly as the thoughts strike him. She looks at him for a second but the silence that proceeded makes her look away. She has just dropped a huge bomb, not that it was some revelatory information but it was something they had avoided talking about for literally ever, so it was fair that he needed some time to come up with a response. She is more than happy to give it to him.

But then Sam walks back into the room. “I’m pretty sure the dude at the reception thinks we’re a freaking thruple.” He walks to the washroom to collect his toiletry pouch and begins packing as well. “I mean, I’m not sure I can blame him? But I want to?” He shrugs. “Dean and I really don’t look all that alike, maybe that’s it? But this is like, the seventh motel in a row that’s given me really weird looks, you know? I don’t know whether to be flattered or plain disgusted—” His words drop off, as he finally notices the atmosphere in the room.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asks looking from his brother to his best friend.

“Yes,” Dean replies at the same time as she says, “No.”

“NO?!” Dean balks at her.

“Can you guys drop me off at the bus stop? I gotta head to Mystic Falls,” she says, zipping up her bag and exiting the room.

Dean follows her instantly. “Mystic Falls? I thought you weren’t talking to your brothers?” Running up to catch up with her, he races even further ahead to open the trunk of his car for her.

“Yeah, but that was last week,” she tells him as if that was enough explanation. She places her bag in the trunk.

“They kicked you out!” Dean seems on edge. She can’t completely understand why.

She looks at him. “It’s Stef’s birthday.”

“He’s had a couple hundred of those,” Dean argues.

She smiles, “I hope he has a couple hundred more, and I’ll try to attend them all.”

“Damon forgot yours!”

She shrugs. “I’ll pretend to forget his. But this is Stefan. And besides, Caroline invited me. You want me to bail and piss her off?”

He slams the trunk shut. “Fine!” He acquiesces, albeit very aggressively. “But I’m dropping you to the Boarding House, not a fucking bus stop.”

Meanwhile, Sam comes out, carrying his own luggage as well as Dean's—who had apparently completely forgotten about it. He opens the trunk again, eyeing Dean and her very suspiciously.

She moves to open the back door of the Impala. “You’re going to Ohio, it’s like a three hour detour.”

“It’s two hours with me behind the wheel. Get in,” he commands, leaving no room for any argument.

“I was doing that anyway,” she says almost to herself, getting in the back.

Dean stops her. “Get in the front. Sam’ll sit in the back.”

“I will?” Sam questions, lost.

Dean doesn’t care. He just gets in the driver seat, not waiting on either of the two. A look passes between Sam and her. He raises a brow in question, she just smiles and shrugs again in response and gets in.

Later, when Sam’s already asleep in the backseat, Dean clears his throat.

“So.”

She doesn’t turn around to look at him, she isn’t sure she was supposed to, and it’s drizzling, she doesn’t want to turn away from the window, not yet. “So.”

She can feel him shift uncomfortably next to her. “You gonna say anything?” He asks.

She thinks for a second. “I don’t think I have anything left to say, really. I said everything I had to say.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Dean yells out.

She has to look at him then, with ire in her eyes. “SHhhh!! He’s sleeping!” She whisper-yells at him, pointing to Sam in the back seat.

Trying to compose himself once again, Dean whisper-yells back at her, “What do you mean you’ve said everything you had to?”

“I said it, in the motel,” She explains.

“And that was it? The end of the conversation?” Dean questions, seeming very agitated.

“I mean, yeah! What else am I supposed to do?” She throws back, his agitation is quite contagious. It always has been.

“You really think that was a reasonable end to that conversation?!” Dean bites.

She’s getting annoyed now. “What do you want? You want me to elaborate? Write a thesis paper on it? Or—or would you like to read my diary where I scribbled ‘Y/n Winchester’ a million times? What exactly is the resolution you’re looking for here?”

“You wrote ‘Y/n Winchester’ in your diary a million times…?” He asks, almost as if he cannot comprehend the idea of it.

From anyone else she would’ve taken that as an insult. Had it been anyone else they might have actually been making fun of her. But it’s not anyone else. It’s Dean. So she’s compelled to look at him.

“Yeah, Dean. And it was just as embarrassing then as it is right now. But I was the nerdy teenager and you were the hot jock who the cheerleaders at Mystic Falls High were dying to date.” Just the thought of those days makes her morose. “I don’t like to think about those days.”

Then there is silence again.

Until Dean clears his throat, slowly he says, “But I never drove any of them home.” And damn it all to hell, it makes her smile. And damn it all to hell, her smile apparently makes him more confident in his approach. “I didn’t wait for them outside their place, blaring AC/DC at the crack of dawn, all to get milkshakes before school… It was you. I wanted to hang out with you.”

But that’s somehow the wrong thing to say, “Never at school.”

“What?” Dean asks, thrown off.

“You didn’t talk to me at school.” Admitting it, it breaks something in her all over again. It’s like she’s in highschool again. She hates it.

“That’s not true! We had lunch together everyday!” He defends.

“Nope,” she tells him. “You had lunch with the cheer squad while I sat on the table next to you silently eating really bad beans.”

“But I was there,” He tries.

“You were,” she concedes. “You were there but you weren’t there.”

Silence falls once again.

“I don’t blame you,” she is the one that breaks it. “For high school.”

“Why not?” Dean asks, sounding genuinely more hurt at the fact that she doesn’t blame him than the fact that she accused him of ignoring her.

“It’s a weird time for everyone, and I think Mystic Falls High was the first time you got to actually enjoy it. You stayed there long enough to stop being the new kid and I think it was also the first time you felt like you fit in. I didn’t, and that was never your fault… or your problem for that matter,” she explains, fidgeting with her hands in her lap.

“That’s not fair,” Dean opposes.

“What?”

“Your problems are my problems.”

And the finality of his statement gives her a weird sort of confidence to say, “Sheesh. Wonder why I ended up falling in love with you.”

The car skids a little.

She can’t help it, she laughs.

“YOU CAN’T JUST SAY SHIT LIKE THAT!” Dean argues.

She’s still laughing, “I’m sorry. But… Come on! It was kinda funny.”

“I did not find that funny! Not even a little bit! What’s so funny about being—” He cuts himself off.

She laughs a little harder. “That’s what’s funny! You can’t even say it! You wanna know what’s so funny about being in love with you? I can’t stop it. It’s…” She sits up to position her back towards the window and moves herself to face Dean better. “It’s like breathing. I have tried, time and time again, to stop, and for a while I can. I can try to hold my breath when I’m being mindful of it. I can remember not to breathe when I’m focused on not breathing but the moment my brain gets engaged anywhere else, I’m screwed. The moment I look away, the moment I burn my toast, or start reading a book or watch a film, the moment I’m in a rush to meet Bonnie, the moment my mind becomes occupied with anything other than the conscious thought reminding me not to breathe—BAM! I’m falling in love with you again. It’s so fucking easy, it’s so fucking comfortable. Loving you is the my most cherished accomplishment because I’ve done it so fucking well for so freaking long.” She smiles. “I feel like I deserve a prize.”

Dean stays silent.

Her smile fades.

She shakes her head, she knew what he felt. She’s always known how he feels. A long silence shouldn’t be the thing that aches her heart. Not after having been in love with this man for this long.

“Did you—” He cuts himself short. She turns to him again, eager for him to continue. And her silent pleas are heard loudly. Continue he does, “Did you decide to tell me… about this today cause we met 15 years ago today?”

“No,” she brushes him off. “I just needed to get this off my—” Suddenly his words strike her like a thunderbolt. “What do you mean 15 years ago today?”

He shrugs, eyes on the road. “A day before Stefan’s birthday, that’s when we met for the first time.”

“You… You remember the day we met?” She asks, dumbfounded.

Dean doesn’t answer, instead the car comes to a stop. He’s pulled into the parking lot of a 7Eleven. “I’ll be right back.”

Only when she watches Dean get out of the car and walk into the store does she realise that it’s the 7Eleven in Mystic Falls. They are only a few minutes away from the Salvatore Boarding house, barely 12 minutes away from her brothers’ place.

She can’t believe she feels this way but a part of her feels like she’s running out of time. But running out of time for what? It’s Dean! He’ll be there to pick her up two days later. He’ll be there to light her cigarettes in a crowd—and not mean absolutely anything by it—in two days time. It’s not that long. They’ve dropped her off to live with her brothers’ for weeks even. Two days is nothing. It’s barely a visit. Then why in God’s name does she feel like there’s a clock right above her head counting down. And counting down to what??

“Here you go,” Dean says, as he gets in and throws something in her lap.

She catches out of reflex. “Cigarettes?” It’s two packs of menthols, her current favorite.

“What about ‘em? You like these right?” He pulls out of the parking lot. “You quit Marlboro Reds a month ago, and switched to these so I thought they’d be a safer bet. Was I wrong?”

It’s natural though. The most natural thing in the world. Dean buys her cigarettes. He always buys her cigarettes.

The thing about smoking that most people don’t understand is that it opens a whole new world. It’s bad obviously and no one should do it. But when you do it, when you smoke, there are a few things, a few rules that might not mean anything to a non-smoker but mean everything to a smoker.

Take for instance, ‘Puff-Puff-Pass’.

For any random person, the intricacies of ‘Puff-Puff-Pass’ exists to the extent of its name. But only a smoker knows that in an intimate setting, between two friends, the rule doesn’t apply. It’s rude not to follow the rule in a social gathering amongst semi-strangers, but among the two of them, it never applied.

Similarly, buying someone cigarettes is the purest gesture of care.

Having a pack ready for consumption whenever she came back from a visit to the Salvatore Boarding House? To her that always felt like the loudest way that Dean could tell her that he cared for her.

And he did these things often. Even when he quit smoking, he’d light her cigarettes for her. For as long as Dean has known she smokes, she has never lit a cigarette for herself. These gestures of… call it love, call it self-destruction, they have never not been there. So him buying her cigarettes is the most natural thing in the world but it throws her off still.

“Y/n?”

“What?” She suddenly remembers there was a question there, in his words before. “Oh yeah. Menthols… I smoke menthols now, yes. Good guess.”

He noticed me change my cigarettes? She asks herself, feeling something very close to giddy. Before she has to scream at herself inside, cause Dean has always done this and it has never meant anything. It’s just his small way of adhering to his duty of care.

“Thanks,” she tells him belatedly. She doesn’t fail to notice how the words make his nose scrunch up—the way it usually does when he dislikes something.

“You said you’ve tried not loving me,” Dean states and that’s all it is—a statement, an observation.

But she feels compelled to explain herself, “It’s not easy,” she tells him. “You’re… You’re you. You’re charming and hot and…” she’s spilled most of her guts, what harm can a little bit of spilling her heart do now? “You’re beautiful. You’ve got a different girl to take home every other night. It kills me inside, I won’t lie. It’s torture seeing you laughing with someone else. It really is. But it’s not your fault. And, I know you don’t feel the same way, and for a long time I didn’t mind this one sided affair cause, it was mine, you know? This love I had for you, it was all mine. I didn’t care if you loved me back… But then you…”

“Died,” he finishes the sentence for her.

She nods lamely. “It felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest. I don’t remember what I did when you weren’t around. I don’t remember how I survived because to me breathing was being in love with you. It’ll always be that. I just knew if I ever saw you again, I needed you to know how I felt. I’d been too selfish with my love for you. I… I don’t know. It sounds stupid now. I just needed you to know and I felt like I should tell you today so I did.”

And then the car stops again.

She looks up and she’s standing in front of the boarding house.

Clock’s run out.

Dean tries to say something but she doesn’t know if she has the courage to hear a placated, softly-worded rejection so she just gets out of the car.

He follows suit.

He rushes to open the trunk and pulls out her luggage.

She takes it for him, and then begins walking to the door.

“Y/n!”

It feels like a gust of wind.

The way he calls for her feels like the gust of wind that blows right before the lighting strikes.

She turns without hesitance.

Their eyes lock.

He’s standing next to the driver side, the door to the impala is still open. The only thing lighting his face is a street light a couple paces behind him. Bathed in yellow, he looks like a wild field of sunflowers, with his messy blond hair and painfully green eyes. He’s absolutely breathtaking.

For all her talk of her love for Dean Winchester being like breathing, in this moment, at the sight of this man looking absolutely divine, she doesn’t think she remembers how to breathe at all.

So with bated breath, she waits for him to speak.

“Y/n…” He says again, before something changes and his eyes stop shining, his posture hardens, his hand grips the Impala’s door a little harder and his face loses color. Then he says, “We’ll pick you up Tuesday.” With that he gets back in the car and drives off.

It’s only when they’ve crossed the Mystic Falls border does the silence in the Impala break.

“You’re an idiot,” Sam tells him.

Find Part 2 here.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fic #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean fluff #dean angst #supernatural fantiction #spn fic

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slvt4felix · 9 months

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'Twas the Night Before Christmas...

Pairing -> Dad!Bang Chan x fem!reader WC -> ~3,300 words Includes -> lots of fluff, so domestic, dad!Chan with twin girls, Christmas activities, implied female reader, brief mentions of pregnancy, baking fights Summary -> Now that your twins are 4 years old, it's time to pull out all the tricks for Christmas morning. The memory making for Chan and you starts when the kids go to bed, the two of you preparing for the morning to come. Author's Note -> I couldn't help but write a Christmas Chan fic. He was the perfect one for it. I'm a big softie for dad Chan. He would be so sweet. So, I hope you guys enjoy this one as much as I did! I spent all Christmas morning writing it! Happy Holidays! ♡ Masterlist ♡

You close the pink painted door softly behind you and immediately smile at your husband. He's standing beside you, hand covering his mouth, trying his best to hold in his giggle. His eyes sparkle with excitement. You guys have had this night planned for weeks, wanting to get it right. Your twin girls are turning 4 this year, and that means it's time to step it up. You guys want the Christmas magic to stay alive for as long as possible, so you need to start strong. There has obviously been lots of presents from Santa during previous years, but you both decided that it's time to really go all out now that they are starting to become more aware of the festivities of the Christmas season.

The whole thing had been Chan's idea, of course. The poor guy had been absolutely smitten with his daughters since they were born, and now they truly had him wrapped around their fingers. In fact, you guys have just managed to put them to sleep after reading not 1, not 2, but 4 stories to them, Chan eventually helping them beg you for the fourth one; it was his favorite, too, after all. He loves to read it to the girls, making them laugh at all the silly voices he creates for the different characters. He even softly sings some of the lines to them, which always results in your babies falling right asleep. They try to deny it, but their dad's voice always manages to put them right to sleep, their eyes falling closed and soft snores leaving their mouths. At that point, you practically have to drag Chan out due to him always wanting to curl up right next to them and make sure they are safe while they sleep. It's one of the things you adore most about your husband. He would do anything for your girls.

The two of you tiptoe away from the door, in hopes not to wake them up for it takes an awful long time to put them back to sleep. Chan reaches down and grabs your hand, pulling you to the living room even faster, unable to wait any longer to start on the Christmas fun.

Your house is decked out in decor from floor to ceiling, both of you in love with the festivities of the holiday season. It had been another night a few weeks before when the two of you had stayed up until the early hours of the morning, decorating the entire house for your kids to wake up to in the morning. Chan had been so excited when hearing their little feet pitter patter on the hallway outside their rooms that he had immediately sprung up to see their reactions. Just like you had expected, their little eyes lit up and they were amazed by all the lights and tinsel strewn around the house. Chan had made nearly the same face the night before after everything had been set up. You adore seeing all the little characteristics they inherited from their dad. Even though it was quite annoying hearing people mention how much they look like him after you carried them for 9 months, but Chan was never too cocky about it.

When you get to the living room, you pull away from Chan, plopping down on the tan couch covered in fuzzy Christmas blankets and throw pillows. You let out a large content sigh after a long day of seeing different family and friends for the holiday. Christmas day is reserved for your small family and grandparents. You had managed to come home by 7, but there were still many things to do; this included having to bake cookies, which lead to an unfortunate flour fight and the kids staying up way past their bedtime. Now, it's 9:30 pm, and all you wanna do is cuddle up with Chan and put on a silly Hallmark Christmas movie. He complains every year, but you know he secretly loves them.

Feeling you let go of his hand, Chan looks at you and gives you sad puppy dog eyes and pouty lips.

"But we need to set up all the stuff for the morning," he reminds you, eager to get started.

"I know honey, but it's not even 10 yet, we have tons of time. Plus we still need to clean up the kitchen from your little baking fight."

Chan laughs at the memory of your two children, absolutely covered head to toe in flour. They sneak chocolate chips from the bag as the two of you finish up, sticking the cookies in the oven. Bath time was a whole event today.

"I know, I'm just excited," he tells you as he approaches the couch. He lays his hand on your cheek, tilting your head up. He leans down, placing a kiss on your forehead.

You blush slightly, as he whispers, "I love you," his words still having the same affect even after all these years.

"i love you too."

He pulls away and turns around, heading into the kitchen.

"Wait, where are you going?" you ask him, confused. All you wanted was to rest a minute and maybe have a cuddle or two.

"I'll clean up the kitchen, you just close your eyes for little while. It's been a long day. I'll wake you up when it's time to start getting everything ready for the morning," he explains, sending a wink your way. You laugh at his antics and let him go clean up the kitchen.

You start to get comfy on the couch, excited to take a few minutes to yourself during the busy holiday season. You hear muffled music start to come from the kitchen. You smile upon hearing the familiar tunes of traditional Christmas music. Chan can never work or clean without music playing, but you guess the love for music aligns well with his career. You've never been one to say no to music, although it did take a while for your love for Christmas music to grow. You have Chan to thank for that one. Your eyes fall shut, the soft sounds lulling you to sleep.

~~~

You start to stir due to fingers lightly threading through your hair. You open your eyes to see the same excited, brown eyes you wake up to every morning. He smiles when he notices you're awake. You can tell he has something to tell you simply from his body language. You have gotten to know everything about each other and there's little you don't notice. He shifts slightly as he kneels next to you, anxious to get the information out.

"I cleaned up the kitchen, but I've got a great idea," he says. You roll your eyes in fondness, as you sit up to make room for him on the couch. He sits down next to you, pulling your legs into his lap. He can't keep things from you for long. You're his favorite confidant. He often comes home from work and spills everything that happened. You're always the first one to hear new songs, your kids always the next in line to hear their dad sing with his band.

"It'll be messy, but I promise it'll be worth it. The girls are gonna be so amazed," he says, trying to convince you. It doesn't take much for you to agree with him, since your kids are easily impressed.

"Okay, I think it's been long enough, I doubt they're gonna wake up any time soon. Show me what you got Christopher," you say, sparking an instant reaction in the man. He shoots up from the couch, rushing to your shared bedroom. You laugh as you notice him slow down to tiptoe past the kids room before going back to his mission. He comes back, just a couple minutes later with a large pair of boots he must have dug through your closet to find. They are probably from a concert he had years prior. Chan had probably liked the boots a little too much and begged the stylists to keep them.

"What in the world are you gonna do with those?" you ask him, genuinely curious. This was one of the few times where you had no idea where this conversation was heading. That wasn't too surprising though, considering how creative the man is. He sets the boots gently on the floor, careful not too make too much noise in fear of waking the girls up. They aren't necessarily light sleepers, but a chunky pair of boots hitting the wood floors would definitely make them rouse from their beds. He heads back into the kitchen to retrieve God knows what.

He comes back out with a giddy smile on his face, and the culprit for the earlier mess in his hand. Flour. You chuckle, immediately realizing what his idea entails.

"You're a genius," you say, shaking your head with affection.

You stand up, taking the flour out of his hand and placing it on the coffee table.

"This is gonna have to happen last though. We don't wanna mess it up before morning hits." He nods his head in agreement.

"Let's get the presents out and then let's worry about the cookies," Chan suggests. You head into your bedroom together, heading to your secret hiding spot for the presents. You open your closet up, a place your kids don't normally get into. You immediately take notice of how some of the presents have been shuffled onto the one side of the closet. You hold in a laugh upon realizing Chan had to shove the presents aside in order to grab his black boots. You carefully grab a few of the presents and Chan grabs a few more, always eager to show off the muscles he works hard for in the gym.

You head back into the living room, placing the presents under the tree. You had made sure to wrap each of the girls' presents in different wrapping paper so it would be easier for the four year olds to tell which present was theirs.

Eventually, the both of you have stacked up the presents under the tree, resulting in an impressive sight of gifts. Your little girls will be unable to contain their excitement at all the wrapped toys. A lot of them had to be similar due to their tendency to fight over toys. You are still trying to teach them sharing, but they tend to struggle with it a little bit. Chan has gotten good at sorting out the fights, being able to pick out the right words to say in order to stop the arguing. Unsurprisingly, he just has that leader quality about him that makes people listen to what he has to say, especially his two kids.

As your admiring the plenty of presents, you spent more money than you'd like to admit on, you barely notice as Chan leaves the room. He comes back with something behind his back and it quickly draws your attention. You notice the small wrapped gifts behind his back and smile. There had been a year where you guys had decided not to get each other anything, but you have been unable to ever go through with it. Chan tends to go all out for Christmas gifts and so do you, so there was no shot at trying to hold back. He simply goes to the side of the tree, pretending like he doesn't know you had seen him. He sets the three variously sized boxes down behind the gifts for the children. You decide to grab the gifts you had gotten for Chan in the morning, knowing there is bound to be a time when the girls will be distracting him enough for you to sneak them under the tree. He had been complaining about his computer lately, groaning in frustration when it would glitch or run out of battery too quickly. So, you had gotten him a nicer one for Christmas, especially since he uses the thing so much. You know he'll love it and you're excited to see his reaction. He'll thank you for days, even weeks, after.

Since the presents are all settled under the tree, you head into the kitchen, grabbing the plate of still warm chocolate chip cookies the kids left out. They were getting overtired, so you had promised them you would place the cookies where Santa could see so he could have a treat on his journey across the globe.

You make your way back into the living room to see your husband swaying gently to the Christmas music, still playing from when he had been cleaning up the kitchen. He's texting on his phone; you assume it's one of the boys considering he always seems to be texting them about one thing or another. You set the cookies down on the coffee table and walk behind him. You wrap your arms gently around his waist and go onto your tiptoes, hooking your chin over his shoulder.

"Who are you texting?" You ask with no malice in your tone, just simple curiosity. He smiles, leaning back gently into your touch.

"Felix was asking about what our plans were for tomorrow. He wanted to come over to see the girls and give them their gifts," he says. You're sure that by the end of the night tomorrow, a few of the boys from his group will have stopped by. The girls love them, especially Felix and, surprisingly enough, Seungmin. He entertains them little, but the man has somehow caught the kids' hearts.

You nod against his back as he turns his phone off and places it back in his pocket, giving you his full attention. He places his hands over yours, and you hum in content, completely and fully happy with the life you're living. One of Chan's hands grips your wrist and he spins out of your hold. His grinning face now looking back at yours. He pulls you in gently by the waist, his body still swaying to the beat of the music. You wrap your arms around his neck, quickly catching onto his aim here. In the background, "White Christmas" plays, one of your favorite Christmas songs, a fact Chan is all too aware of.

He starts to gently lead you in a slow dance, a tradition the two of you have followed since the first year you were married. You had still been in your honeymoon stage when it had started, getting married just a month before. It was your first Christmas Eve together as husband and wife, and in the middle of baking cookies for a family gathering the next day, Chan had asked you to dance with him. Since then, you have slow danced every year on Christmas Eve to various Christmas songs. It has slowly but surely become one of the main things you look forward to within the holiday season. He dances with you on other occasions, but for some reason, it feels so much more special when the only light comes from the soft glow of the Christmas tree, muffled Christmas music fills the room, and the smell of cookies wafts throughout the house.

You spin slowly around the room, ensuring not to step on Chan's feet. Your fingers gently play with the hair on the nape of his neck as your head lays on his chest. His fingers have found their way to your slightly raised shirt, softly rubbing the exposed skin along your waist, causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. He never fails to have the same effect on you even after 6 years of marriage and two children.

You hear Chan start to softly sing the tune, and you get lost in the sound of his voice. Your eyes closed, appreciating the delicate moment between the two of you.

However, as the song nears it's end, you are quickly thrown out of the calmness. Chan runs his hand up to the dip of your back, holding you gently there, as he attempts to lean you back in what he hopes to be a romantic dip. It turns out to be a dramatic fail, as you lose your footing due to the surprise and he tumbles to the ground with you. You both land on the soft rug which blankets both of your falls, keeping either of you from getting hurt. Chan immediately panics, terrified he hurt you. You quickly reassure him, knowing how worked up he could get over this.

Before long you're both in a heap on the floor, unable to control your laughter. You giggle softly in his neck as he hugs you, still trying to keep relatively quiet, not wanting to wake up the girls who are sleeping in just a room over.

"Alright we have to get started on everything else. It's getting late," you whisper in his ear, aware that Chan would lay here with you forever if he could.

He slowly gets up before grabbing your hand, helping you to your feet. You make your way back over to the cookies.

"Alright, do you want a bite of the cookie, or do you want me to?" Chan questions.

"You can take the bite," you say, remembering how excited he had been for this whole thing. Not to mention you had snuck a cookie when Chan had tried to gather the girls up for bedtime.

He takes a bite, humming at the taste. He sets the cookie back down on the plate after making sure the perfect amount had been bitten off. It has to look like Santa had taken a bite of it the night before. Next, your eyes land on the glass of milk next to the plate. He nods to you, and you drink half of it so that it is noticeable that someone drank some.

Once you set the glass down, Chan excitedly hands you the flour and grabs his boots from where had set them down earlier. He only puts one on at first, but you remind him that Santa would make footprints with both feet and he rushes to put the other one on.

You bring the flour over to the fireplace and dump a tiny bit on the brick that extends a little out from it. You spread it gently with your hand, rubbing the excess on your pants. Chan steps straight onto the flooring, pushing down, to ensure a footprint will appear. He steps away and just like you had expected, a pair of big boot footprints show in the flour, facing away from the fireplace. The two of you make a path of footprints leading to the cookies, then to the tree. The flour looks as if it were snow brought in from outside. Chan's boots made nearly the perfect replica of Santa's footprints.

You stand back, admiring your work, knowing the girls are going to freak in the morning.

"You're definitely cleaning that up in the morning," you tease him with a laugh despite knowing he would do it without you even having to ask.

You work quickly as a team, putting all of the evidence away, before getting ready for bed. You were both already in your matching Christmas pajamas, you had bought for your family this year. The girls were just as eager to wear them as you were. Chan had pretended to hate it at first, but you knew he was just messing around. He secretly adored doing all the silly, cringy family things you asked him to.

After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you crawled into bed with him. You lay your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat rhythmically in your ear, lulling you into a deep sleep.

Before you slip into unconsciousness, you whisper out, hoping your husband is still awake, "Merry Christmas, Channie."

"Merry Christmas, Darling."

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