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depressedbagpipe · 2 years

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"Blackbird to Robin, do you copy?" (Billy Russo x ofc)

Chapter three

Words: 5286 Warnings: coffee i guess (me knowing just too much of it, btw go drink some water instead), billy being a little mafia-ish, owen being a lil shit, harper knowing too much, dana being a bit of a pain in the ass, A/N: this took way too longer than originally expected, so thank you for waiting <3 life's been getting a bit busier yet I'm learning how to manage my time better, fingers crossed that i know how to do that haha. btw i completely made up the name of the coffee shop so if it turns out it's a real place, let me know cause i don't want to be sued xd Taglist: @badasseddy, @noortsshift, @britishbassett

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Chapter three

‘Two cappuccinos for table three, please.’

‘What’s the deal with cappuccinos, anyways?’ I said while grabbing two clean mugs, and quickly putting them on the coffee machine behind me.

‘Guess you’re good at them,’ Harper winked at me as she grabbed a clean rug and dried her hands with it.

‘No, but seriously, I like cappuccinos too but like, last time I prepared thirty in a little over an hour. I mean, is that healthy? And this is coming from someone who loves coffee!’

Harper laughed at my antics. ‘It’s a nice brewage! People just like cappuccinos,’ she shrugged, disappearing through the door and into the kitchen shortly after.

‘If they only liked tipping better…’ I mumbled.

‘I heard that!’ Harper shouted from the other room.

‘Damn it.’

My hands moved automatically as I prepared the drinks, carefully decorating the foamed milk on the mug and making sure not to spill anything as I took them to the couple sitting by the door of the café.

They barely acknowledged me when I set their cappuccinos on the table, giving a short nod in my general direction without taking their eyes off each other.

Rolling my eyes, I walked back to the counter, noticing that no new customers were waiting to be attended to. I sighed deeply, looking around the bar, busying myself with cleaning anything in sight, if only to have an excuse to avoid Billy’s dark frame on the corner, directly facing me as he pretended to read a book.

His Americano had definitely gone cold long ago, but he still took careful sips, his tongue occasionally making an appearance to lick the remains on his lips. It was a true sight to behold, but every time my eyes darted to him, his were already fixed on me. He had a sixth sense of knowing when someone was looking at him.

Harper had even complimented his eyes, which would only inflate his ego more.

‘What?’ she had asked after noticing the glare I sent her. ‘Your boyfriend’s cute.’

‘He’s not my boyfriend,’

‘Well, he certainly keeps looking your way,’ the older woman winked at me.

‘Yeah, that’s not it at all,’

‘Whatever rows your boat,’ she only laughed at me as she kept counting the money at the register, making me sigh deeply.

I absolutely adored Harper. She had taken me in the second I came stumbling into her café, wet from the sudden downpour and in heavy need of a job. Despite having no experience brewing coffee, she had thrown all reason out the window and given me a safe place beside her, becoming pretty much my sole source of income. Many hours had been spent between those four cozy wooden walls, hundreds of steaming mugs passed along, and thousands of faces asking for a drink before going on with their lives. And despite the stress and the neverending shifts, and the too-sassy personality of its owner, HarpBrews Coffee had become my second home.

My phone pinged in my pocket. Discreetly grabbing it, I peered at Owen’s message, stating he would soon be walking through the door. I took a deep breath checking the hour on the big grandfather clock on the side of the café. The afternoon rush hour had already ended, yet a few customers still came for their boost drinks before heading out to the Friday nightlife they loved so much. Unfortunately for me, I still had a few papers to write, and a late shift to cover, all while the exhaustion of having slept four hours was starting to take a toll on my body.

Putting my phone away, I caught Billy’s eyes on me again. He was slowly turning the book's page, not even bothering to pretend he hadn’t been caught. I raised my eyebrow at him but didn’t say anything. Only when he leaned his head to the side I finally walked up to him.

‘Doesn’t your butt hurt?’ I asked, grabbing his empty mug. ‘You’ve been sitting there for three hours without moving.’

‘It’s been three hours already? Wow, time does fly when you’re having fun,’ he smirked, checking his expensive wristwatch and widening his eyes.

‘You’re hilarious. You should audition for the circus, I heard they’re running out of clowns,’ I said with a shake of my head.

Billy put down his book. ‘Amazing wordplay, ten out of ten,’ he clapped slowly, but the mischief in his eyes didn’t leave.

‘Can I get you anything else?’ I asked him, hoping not to hear his comeback.

‘What’s your specialty?’

‘Cappuccinos, apparently.’

‘Sure, let’s see what the fuzz is all about,’ he said, leaning back again on his chair and picking up the book.

I sighed, walking back to the bar and preparing, yet again, his own cappuccino.

‘Please, don’t spit in it.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it, Mr. Russo,’ I called back, making sure to keep a smile on my face after noticing the many heads that turned my way.

I internally groaned, already knowing some of them would be leaving immediately, their tips long forgotten.

Only when I grabbed the cocoa powder I stopped my hands. I held the plastic template in between shaky fingers, debating whether or not Billy deserved some cocoa design on his foam. A small part of my brain was slapping itself at my childish resentment, but an even bigger part was slapping the other for even doubting. It was Harper coming back from the kitchen and seeing me with the cocoa in my hands that made me move, carefully sprinkling the powder on the mug until it took the shape of the open book of the template.

‘He reads too?’ she whispered when I passed her by, setting the mug on a tray, together with a clean spoon and a napkin.

My stomach grumbled right as I picked it up, the realization of not having eaten anything in a while finally catching up to me. I looked over at Billy, who hadn’t eaten anything either, but this time it did seem he was too preoccupied with his book. I glanced at the small counter displaying Harper’s baking, and with another sigh, I picked up a vanilla cookie and placed it on a small plate, bringing everything to Billy.

He raised his eyebrows once I approached his table, setting everything before him.

For the first time since I met him, he seemed genuinely surprised.

‘Oh, thank you, Dana, you didn’t have to,’ he set the book on the other edge of the table, eyeing the latte art on his cappuccino.

I shrugged. ‘Yeah, well, you must be hungry. It’s on the house, by the way.’

Nobody said anything else, for the small bell by the door rang, and Owen’s smile greeted me as soon as I turned my head to face the sound.

‘Waddup?’ he took me in his embrace, hugging my waist tightly for a few seconds before removing his arms. He barely moved away, regardless.

‘Hey, what took you so long?’ I asked him, motioning with my head to sit on one of the empty tables nearby the counter.

Owen unloaded his bag on the table, pulled out his laptop and phone, and took a seat as he adjusted his dirty blond fringe that fell unceremoniously over his eyes after taking his beanie off.

‘Sorry about that, Mrs. Russell was on a rant about the newest councilmen appointment and we pretended to be interested in it so she would forget about last week’s assignment.’

‘You didn’t turn it in?’

‘I didn’t do it,’ he said with a shrug, laughing it off.

I shook my head at the boy, remaining silent as the coffee machine whistled behind me, brewing yet more coffee despite the late hour.

‘Latte macchiato for me, please, if I take more caffeine I’ll dig a hole in the floor from buzzing,’ Owen called, his fingers already typing on his laptop.

I laughed at his comment, knowing how many energy drinks he was capable of ingesting over a day.

‘You sure your heart can bear more of it?’ I asked him, placing our coffees down on the table.

‘It can now that you’re here,’ he winked at me, his eyes focusing once again on the screen before him.

Rolling my eyes, I went into the back of the café to retrieve my bag, ignoring the chime of the bell at the front door.

‘Harper, I’m on my break!’

‘Okey dokey!’

Harper’s chirping voice was heard at the bar, welcoming whoever had nothing better to do than having a coffee so late in the evening.

I quickly unknotted my apron and hung it on its respective hanger, pulling my hair out of its bun and pulling my sweater over my shoulders, knowing the lack of movement would become a problem later.

Walking out of the kitchen, I was shocked when I saw Frank Castle sitting down next to Billy, talking in hushed voices. I didn’t fail to notice the third person sitting with them, worried concentration drawn on her beautiful face.

I walked in hurried steps back to Owen, who was sipping on his coffee completely unaware of the rising tension on the table behind him. His back was to them, allowing me to slide on the opposite seat, getting a clear view of the three adults.

The sound the chair made when I dragged it back caught the attention of the two ex-marines, who quickly glanced up at me. I waved inadvertently at Frank, still awkward in his presence, but he returned the gesture by silently nodding his head at me.

The moment ended as soon as Harper returned to their table with steaming mugs for the two newcomers, the little party returning to their hushed conversation as if they had been going at it for hours and not just a few minutes.

I shrugged and sat down.

‘Everything okay?’ Owen asked, his eyebrows drawn in concern at me.

I shook my head, not wanting to talk.

‘Yeah, just tired.’

‘Well, I hope you’re not too tired for this because I have no idea where to start and you’re the only one I trust enough to partner up with.’

‘Always the charmer, Owen,’ I sighed, opening a new tab on my laptop, and quickly typing down the topic of our latest academic torture.

‘Don’t get me wrong, I love working with you. But I love pissing Malcolm off even more.’

‘You guys did one project together weeks ago, you surely can’t keep the feud up.’

‘He’s an asshole. It’s his fault we failed.’

‘And now he’ll hate you forever after selling him out.’

‘He deserved it.’

‘Really rough strategy.’

‘Well, I’ll have my lawyer call his lawyer.’

‘You’re your own lawyer, Owen, this is why we’re doing this in the first place.’

Owen took a few seconds to reply, his fingers stopping over the keys while he arched one eyebrow at me. ‘Someone’s moody.’

I sighed once again, already feeling a faint thump appear at the back of my head. ‘Look, I don’t wanna mess the project up, and I barely got any sleep last night, so please, can we just… concentrate on this? So we don’t have to pull another last-minute all-nighter the day before the due date?’

My pleading seemed effective, for Owen raised his hands in the air and apologized before returning to the task at hand.

‘Alright, alright. Look, on the way here I read a few articles that could be helpful.’

‘Cool, text me the link, and I’ll give them a quick look.’

‘Not so fast, loca,’ he laughed to himself. ‘You gotta do something for me first.’

‘Wow, not five minutes in and you’re already blackmailing me? New record.’

I was staring at him through heavy lids, knowing his plans usually ended in disaster.

‘This one’s good, I promise.’

‘Spit it out, then.’

‘I text you the articles, and you go on a date with me tomorrow.’

The sweet taste of my mocha latte turned suddenly bitter. Loud coughs left my mouth as the liquid burned my lungs. From the rim of my eyes, I saw Billy and Frank’s eyes on me, their posture tense, ready to pounce. I shook my head, only I didn’t know who it was meant for.

‘What the actual fuck, Owen?’ I managed to ask between coughs.

He glanced up innocently as if we had been talking about clouds.

‘What? ‘

‘You can’t be serious.’

‘I am. I’ve been meaning to ask you out for a while now but it never seemed appropriate.’

Owen was now stirring his beverage a little too nonchalantly, but the little tick in his fingers made the spoon tremble ever so slightly.

‘And you think now is appropriate?’

My voice was a little hoarse, and my throat burned slightly, but I was determined to put the boy in his place.

‘It was a joke, Dana, you don’t have to be so defensive all the time!’ he brought the screen down and rested his elbows on the table, staring into my eyes. ‘Look, maybe this wasn’t the right way to ask you out, but I promise, I’m not kidding. We work well together, and you’re pretty hot, and I think we could make a nice couple if you’d give me chance.’

I stared at him for a while, scanning his face, looking for any indication that he wasn’t being genuine. I found none.

‘Look, Owen…’ I wanted to reply, but he cut me to it.

‘Just one date. If it goes well, we’ll see what we do from then. If it goes wrong, I won’t bother you again,’ he raised his hands again. His body moved as if he were trying to appease a looming beast. His eyes, though, held a confidence I had barely seen before.

‘Just one. After we’re done with the project,’ I added as soon as his lips broke in a giant smile. They quivered slightly at the afterthought but nodded his head fervently regardless.

‘Deal.’

‘Will you send me the links now?’

‘On it.’

···

We mostly worked in silence after that, only breaking it to share a few comments here and there. Harper had thankfully filled in, going as far as allowing me to double my break so we could get some work done.

‘Alright, so I’ll keep researching this and you write the rest?’ Owen confirmed.

I nodded. ‘Yeah, it honestly won’t take me long. On Monday we can meet up again and go over the next point,’ I said, rubbing my eyes.

The little mascara I had applied in the morning had certainly worn off during the day, but I didn’t care. I was too exhausted, and I still had another hour to fill.

‘Sounds great. You going out later? Jeremy said he was throwing a party,’

‘I don’t think I’ll be alive by then,’ I said in a low voice, closing down my books and putting everything away in my bag.

‘Honestly, I don’t know how you do it.’

‘Me either.’

‘I’ll text you tomorrow. If the summaries aren’t on the shared file in the evening, feel free to call and scream at me despite my future hangover,’ Owen said with a short hug.

‘Will probably do,’ I answered back as he waved and left, the café almost too silent with his absence.

Only the small party of three refused to leave their seats.

‘Everything alright over here? Can I get you guys anything?’ I asked them, knotting my apron behind my back with practiced expertise, and pulling my hair up once again despite the strain in my arms.

‘I could use an espresso,’ Frank said, looking at me with somewhat of a smile.

‘Me too, I’m in for a long night,’ the woman replied with a kinder tone, giving me a wide smile.

‘Dana, this is Karen Page, one of the best lawyers in town and a close friend of ours,’ Billy spoke up.

Realization dawned on me as I stared at the woman, my eyes widening.

‘Oh, my gosh, I’m a huge fan of your work,’ I shook her outstretched hand a little too enthusiastically, but she didn’t seem to care.

‘Thank you, I’ve heard a lot about you too,’ she grinned.

She stood out, sitting in front of both men, with kind eyes and sweetness of manner, despite knowing how deadly she could be in her field. She truly was someone I admired dearly and had quickly become one of my main motivators to become a lawyer.

Going back to the bar to prepare their orders, Harper tapped me on the shoulder.

‘You’re seriously gonna date the lanky kid over that greek god?’ she whispered while she untied her apron.

I rolled my eyes at her. ‘Yeah.’

‘Did you bump your head this morning?’ she rested her hands on her waist.

‘I’m perfectly fine, thank you,’ I wasn’t looking at her anymore. ‘That greek god over there is old enough to be my father.’

‘But he isn’t, is he?’ she wiggled her eyebrows. ‘How am I the oldest here? You should be out having fun on a Friday night with the fine specimen that has been eyeing you the entire evening, yet you’re closing down the café,’ she threw her hands in the air, her voice a little louder.

I shushed her, noticing Billy’s eyes on us for a few seconds.

‘Yeah, well, I’m trying to be a responsible adult,’ I shrugged, pouring the hot espresso onto two smaller mugs.

‘Hell, I’m a responsible adult and still go out,’ Harper waited for me at the bar as I brought the mugs back to Billy’s table.

‘Thank you so much, Dana!’ Karen grinned appreciatively at me, quickly bringing the mug to her lips.

‘Careful, it’s still a bit hot.’

‘It’s perfect, thank you,’ she winked at me, making me chuckle softly at her before returning to Harper’s side.

‘Look, I just want you to have fun once in a while,’ Harper went back at it.

I looked down at my feet, wishing to escape the lecture she was about to give.

‘I know, and trust me, I do have fun,’ I said.

We were no longer whispering, but the place was too deserted for us to care.

‘Reading at home is not the kind of fun I’m talking about,’ she sent me a pointed glance.

‘Well, I’m happy being by myself, Harper. I don’t need as much social interaction as everyone seems to think I do,’ I sighed, busying myself with cleaning the coffee machine, somehow knowing no one else would be ordering anything else for the rest of my shift.

‘Dana, I know your life hasn’t been easy these past years but you still deserve to be young and have fun. Hell, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but maybe going out on a date with Owen isn’t a bad idea. At least you’ll talk with someone your age for once,’

‘Hey, I talk to people my age all the time,’ I defended myself.

‘Your classmates don’t count. I mean friends, Dana, actual friends. Not just colleagues, or neighbors, or even me.’

‘Harper…’

‘I know, I know. You’re happy. I just worry about you, that’s all.’

‘Well, don’t. I promise there is nothing to worry about. Now off you go, I know your secret man is waiting for you,’ I gently pushed her out of the way in the direction of the main door.

Harper smiled almost shyly at me, some color going to her cheeks.

‘Alright, I’m leaving. The kitchen’s clean, all that is left is the main part,’ she said, zipping up her coat. She let her hair down, making her look even younger, and matching her lively personality. ‘Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.’

She opened the door, not without turning the Open sign backward to show the Closed written on the other side.

‘Won’t do,’ I was basically pushing her away. At least one of us would be having fun tonight.

‘Oh, and tomorrow don’t bother coming, I’m giving you the day off. You know where the check is!’

She turned and ran to the other side of the street, expertly avoiding the cars and walking with a happy strut.

I sighed, almost relieved at her absence, basking in the silence of the café despite the still low conversation taking place at the far end. Closing the door and drawing the curtains, I walked back to the kitchen, grabbed the cleaning supplies, and walked to the front yet again.

Billy caught my actions, walking to me as I started wiping the tables and bringing the chairs on top to wipe the floor.

‘You closing already?’ he asked me directly.

The sudden sound almost startled me. Hearing him address me after hours of nonexistent conversation had left my skin bare. The pounding in my head seemed to diminish slightly.

I shook my head. ‘I’m just cleaning out. I still got another thirty minutes, you can finish whatever you guys are doing.’

He nodded unconvinced, yet walked back to his table.

My body moved automatically, my mind blank and my eyes laced with exhaustion. I noticed Billy’s table full of papers and binders, with Karen scribbling down every so often. Some part of me wondered what they were working on, but then I remembered. The less I knew the better.

Shaking my head, I did a once-over, checking everything was clean and back to its respective place. With only ten minutes to go, I whisked my phone off my pocket, mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, and wishing time would pass by faster.

‘Hi,’ Karen suddenly spoke before me. I jumped a bit in my place, not expecting to find the woman with her and Frank’s empty mugs on the counter. ‘Sorry for scaring you, I just wanted to bring you these. The coffee was amazing, by the way, the best I’ve ever had,’ she smiled at me.

I grinned back at her. ‘Aw, thank you. You don’t have to lie, though, there’s better coffee out there,’ I said, quickly washing the mugs and leaving them to dry.

She shook her head. ‘No, really, it was amazing. From now on I know where to get my daily dose,’ she winked again, her good humor instantly lifting my mood.

‘Well, we’ll be waiting with open arms,’ I laughed softly, immediately liking the idea of seeing her around.

For a split second I wondered how she could be friends with someone like Frank and Billy, but then again, how could I be friends with someone like Harper?

‘Well, I don’t know if Billy told you, but I’m also working on your case,’ she slid her hand over mine, her warm fingers wrapping around my hand and squeezing in sweet comfort. ‘Whatever you need, you can come to me, alright?’ she looked deeply into my eyes.

I froze, not expecting her forwardness, but nodded in appreciation nonetheless.

‘Thank you, Karen.’

I didn’t know what else to say, but thankfully Frank came to my aid. Or rather, Karen’s.

He slid a hand over her waist, the lightbulb suddenly going on over my head.

‘Really good coffee, Dana.’

He nodded at me, always the same short bow of his head. I’d like to think it was our way of greeting each other, even though I knew I wouldn’t be seeing him again once all this was over.

‘Thank you, Frank.’

‘We should get going,’ Billy finally spoke.

I noticed their now empty table was shining, the strong bleach smell coming from the only corner I hadn’t been able to clean due to it being occupied by them. Billy was now placing the dirty rag on the sink.

‘You cleaned it?’ I asked incredulously.

He simply shrugged. ‘It’s the least I could do. I’ve been sitting there the whole time.’

I shook my head in disbelief, opting for grabbing my things. I picked the envelope under the kitchenware cabinet, Harper’s preferred spot to hide my paycheck in case we were ever robbed. I looked at the three green bills, deflating a little despite knowing it wouldn’t be much, but I still put on a smile and raised my head, noticing the three pairs of eyes on me.

‘You can leave already, I’m just gonna head back one second,’ I said, putting the envelope on the counter and heading to the small room we used to keep our stuff while we worked. Putting on my coat, grabbing my bag, and making sure the lights at the back were off, I returned to the three adults waiting for me.

It felt weird. I wasn’t technically friends with either of them, but the way they all stood protectively in front of me as if I were some defenseless little girl –which I technically was, almost make me long for a stronger friendship. Both men were intimidating enough, clad in dark attire and harsh demeanors, and Karen, despite her softer features, was still a force to be reckoned with. I could only aspire to become half the lawyer she was, and with the three of them in their expensive clothing, with real jobs and real lives, I was brought once again to the reality of the situation.

With a small sigh, I followed them to the door, making sure to close the establishment behind me, suddenly the prospect of going home to the peace I desperately needed broke by the realization of having Billy with me.

‘Well, gentlemen, I better be going,’ Karen said out loud. ‘Dana, it was a pleasure to meet you. I know we’ll be seeing each other soon,’ she brought me into her arms, another unexpected comforting gesture from her.

Her presence was calming, which I thoroughly appreciated.

‘You too, Karen,’ I grinned at her.

‘I’ll walk you,’ Frank offered. His voice was still deep, and despite his offering, it almost felt like he grumbled his words.

But Karen paid no attention, sending him a warm smile, and interlocked her arm with his.

‘Goodnight, guys. Billy, behave,’ Karen glared at Billy, eliciting another chuckle from me.

I nodded at Frank before he could, and despite catching him off-guard, he reciprocated the movement, and the two turned the other way and left, Karen laughing loudly at whatever Frank had said.

I stared at the two, warmth filling my heart at the thought of them being together. They sure made some odd couple, but there was no denying the sparkle that filled both of their eyes when they looked at each other. It felt nice, knowing even Frank had someone who could bring the sun into his dangerous life.

Billy coughed beside me, effectively snapping me from my daydream.

‘Ready to go?’

‘Yeah.’

His hand on my back guided me toward his car, thankfully parked not far away from the entrance. He opened the door for me again, his eyes looking around the dark street, before walking around and getting into the driver’s seat.

I hissed at a particularly big thump of my skull, massaging my temples hoping the growing headache would go away.

‘You okay?’ Billy asked, briefly looking at me before returning his eyes to the road.

‘Just some tension. Hopefully, I’ll get some sleep tonight.’

I noticed the way his leg pushed the pedal a bit more, the speed of the car increasing.

‘Then let’s get you to bed,’ he answered.

‘I wanna have dinner first, though.’

He bit his lip. ‘I may have ordered something for us already. It should be ready once we get there.’

I widened my eyes. ‘Billy, you didn’t have to.’

‘You got me a cookie earlier, this is my way of saying thanks.’

‘You can’t compare a cookie to a full dinner.’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘For someone with a headache, you sure wanna fight.’

I scoffed, despite the truth in his words. I simply leaned back on the seat and closed my eyes. I felt the passing lights on my eyelids, but the soft roaring of the engine and the silence surrounding us helped calm my racing thoughts.

It was shortly after that Billy was parking the car, the sudden halt making me open my eyes.

‘We’re here,’ Billy announced but made no move. ‘Am I gonna have to carry you upstairs too?’

With that, I quickly unbuckled myself, almost jumping out of the car and closing the door loudly. I wanted to believe that the warmth in my cheeks was only due to the exhaustion, and not at the thought of Billy carrying me in his arms.

He followed me into the building, crashing into my back when I stopped abruptly right before the stairs at the sight of the old man with the nastiest scowl.

I winced.

‘Mr. Morrison, a pleasure to see you!’ I drew a wide smile on my lips, praying that he would leave soon.

‘Miss Jones, you’re late. It’s almost Saturday,’ he glanced at his wristwatch, an almost hungry smile on his face. ‘A few more minutes and I’d have to evict you.’

I knew that’s exactly what he wanted, but I kept in my remarks. ‘And, as promised, here’s the week’s payment,’ I grabbed the envelope, opening it to grab the right amount, and noticing the fourth bill right away.

I furrowed my eyebrows, knowing Harper hadn’t given it to me.

‘And who’s the rich kid behind you? You know you’re not allowed to bring anybody in without my permission!’ he was fuming. The old man descended the steps, taking the money from my trembling fingers without looking away from Billy.

‘I’m Billy Russo,’ he introduced himself. He didn’t make an effort to extend his hand for Mr. Morrison to shake, though.

The old man paled instantly. His eyes widened at Billy, who sent him a harsh glare while Mr. Morrison found the right words to say.

‘Oh, it certainly is a pleasure, Mr. Russo,’ he immediately hid the money in his pocket and proceeded to adjust his shirt. ‘What can we humbly offer you on this fine night, Mr. Russo?’

‘Well, I believe you’re exploiting some of the residents in this building complex. I know rent prices went up last month, but nearly not enough to completely leave them with no income,’ he continued.

I was left speechless. I hadn’t told Billy about my ongoing feud for my rent, but as always, Billy seemed to know everything about me and my life. It only reminded me how little I knew of him.

‘Oh, well, you see, Mr. Russo, Miss Jones here…’ but Billy cut him off.

‘Here, take this,’ Billy grabbed a sealed envelope from a pocket inside his expensive jacket. ‘And if you happen to bother Miss Jones again, I’ll make sure the finest lawyers of New York City know about the many irregularities that take place here.’

He looked at him with that stoic yet fierce glare, the same look he had used with me in the interrogation room just twenty-four hours before. It felt like a lifetime, and it once again showed the many sides to Billy Russo that I wasn’t aware of.

Mr. Morrison only shook in his place, taking the envelope with shaky hands and lowering his head, moving aside to let Billy walk by and up the stairs.

I followed after him, too stunned to say anything at first, but with too many questions swirling around.

‘Did you extort him?’

‘I bought him.’

Silence.

‘Did you leave the hundred dollar bill on my envelope at the café?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Why?

‘Just a tip.’

Silence, once again. We reached the door to my apartment, heavy silence following us into the dark entrance.

‘What were you reading earlier?’

‘The Picture of Dorian Gray.’

‘How fitting.’

Next chapter

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x oc #the punisher #billy russo imagine #marvel #the punisher au #frank castle #billy russo could step on my back and i'd say thank you

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starlingsrps · 5 months

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no one's ever had me, not like you.

sid is in the lobby when her train arrives and if dorey didn’t know any better, she’d assume he was tired. it’s well into july and this is the first time they’ve one whole free day line up together, not that she hasn’t been embarrassingly eager for this since the invasion. that it’s also the same day she’s due back in london for her parents anniversary party tomorrow can’t be helped and really, since jessa is supposed to pick her up at victoria at seven, it’s really more like a few hours than anything else.

speaking for herself and fully planning to take it to her grave, she couldn’t bear to wait any longer to see him.

“nice dress,” he says with a wolfish smile that makes her want to roll her eyes. it’s the same red one from their date a few weeks ago, her best one at this point. she’d debated but she could be an adult if he could be - and frankly, she doesn’t know what she expected. “looked better on the floor.”

now she does roll her eyes. “that’ll do, major.”

he sweeps her up, swinging her once to make her laugh before setting her on her feet. still, she doesn’t let go yet, not quite ready to do so. he sighs into her neck, hands skimming down her sides. she hadn’t realized until now how much she missed him or how happy she’d be to see him in one piece. it mortifies her and staggers her at the same time but still, she squeezes just a little harder. there’s a relief when he squeezes back. “it’s just really good to see you,” she murmurs.

his lips brush against her hair. “it’s really good to see you too.”

just a moment longer before they split apart and move down the platform like it didn’t happen. “i thought we could walk around newnham for a bit and get lunch?”

“sounds good.”

they walk over to newnham, hands brushing occasionally but he never takes it, no matter how much she tries to will it into happening. newnham always makes her feel more like herself. it was the first place she felt like she fit in perfectly and passing through the gates immediately puts her at ease. she points out her old dormitory and lecture halls before they turn into the gardens.

“i’m too stupid and poor for this place,” he says.

“i wish you wouldn’t say that.”

“that i’m poor? baby, i’m sorry. i thought you knew.”

“now you tell me. i thought all americans were rich cowboys.”

he laughs. “i mean, i’ve worked for those guys. that close enough?”

“you’re not stupid.”

“i can be pretty stupid. don’t you have to know those old greek bastards and shakespeare and shit to get in here?”

she shakes her head. “yeah but-“

“and there’s letters in your kind of math, dore.” he shakes his head. “i can’t do that.”

“and my type of math is very useless.” he gives a derisive snort and she slaps at his shoulder. “yes it is. you can fly and fix anything.”

“most things.”

“i could teach you math with letters. i nearly burned down the house to last time i tried to fix our heat pump.”

“i like you being the brains,” he says, his hand slipping into hers now. “sexy.”

“should have known you were always harboring dirty tutor fantasies.”

he kisses her on the neck, the brim of his hat bumping her. “only with you.”

“then let’s get you to the library so we can get started.”

“lead the way. i might learn something yet.”

#type: writing #s: dorey x sidney #verse: at the end of the world #they are Very 'so high school' okay

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sandlessdesert · 3 years

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mxy recovery in yiling au

resident mo xuanyu liker here to give yall more mxy and his found family in yiling.

please check out the other parts first!

PART 1 | PART 2 | ADD. INFO (you are here!)

im not super concrete on the timeline/how things play out, as this is more just driven by the whims of me wanting to see mo xuanyu happy :D. i’d love to hear your ideas on how this comes to be.

as previously stated, wei wuxian and the wens manage to live in relative peace in the burial mounds.

five years after wwx dies in canonverse, a sixteen year old mo xuanyu is removed from the lanling jin sect, and escapes mo manor a few months after his mothers death.

wei wuxian begins teaching mxy safe practices for demonic cultivation given the few times hes tried to demonstrate it for him gave wwx a heart attack and nearly sent both of them to wen qing.

wwx would have preferred to NOT teach him demonic cultivation, but mxy at this point isn’t really used to relationships where he isn’t explicitly being used for something and therefore is trying to be “useful” so he doesn’t get discarded. wwx would prefer to let him have a choice over what that use is than force him to do something.

over time mxy realizes what wwx is doing and that he really just wanted for him to have a means to protect himself. this takes a long time though.

shortly after, a 9 year old wen yuan is a bit jealous that mxy is stealing his xian-gege’s time and being allowed into the demon slaughtering cave when no one else is really allowed to. wwx explains mxy is allowed in because he’s his disciple. a-yuan declares himself wwx’s new disciple on the spot!

wwx, unable to say no to his a-yuan, wwx takes him in as a “student” aka just letting him run small errands that are safe. (although eventually, wwx does begin teaching him basics of cultivation when he’s old enough)

two years later, (i’m a bit unclear on the canon timeline here so correct me if this doesn’t make sense) xue yang defects from the jin sect through boredom or inconvenience, before he actually kills anyone, eventually seeking out the infamous yiling patriarch. his ability for demonic cultivation is much lower than the canonverse given that no one has been able to raid and sieze wwx’s research post-mortem because he isn’t... well, dead.

some character relationship things under the cut! this got longer than i thought it would fhsdjhf.

as wwx has three students and TECHNICALLY xue yang joined last, actual child wen yuan calls adult xue yang “mei-xiao shidi” and xue yang nearly threw hands with the kid in response. wwx and mxy bribe xy with candy or something to call him “yuan-shixiong” he is 100% doing this to be a little shit because he’s being raised by wwx, not lwj here.

similarly, mxy is “da shixiong” but more often just “yu-ge/yu-gege” according to wen yuan.

the three disciples have been trying to get wwx and lwj together after watching them somehow not get together for literal years and its EXHAUSTING.

everyone thought maybe a-yuan’s innocent teases of calling lwj nd wwx father and mother would have done something?? to hint at it? but it doesnt work?

xue yang tries being direct with wwx but wwx clearly doesnt take it to heart. obviously he’s just being rude or playing a prank or something.

mxy is in pain seeing someone as pretty as lwj throw himself at wwx where wwx doesnt even notice meanwhile his own love life is absolutely awful, not really being able to shake the reputation of his past life in the jin sect or his current life where he lives in the burial mounds with the wen remnants.

mxy and wwx work together to create spiritual devices and sell/distribute the safer and more practical inventions to the locals of yiling to make money.

xy and mxy are fiercely loyal to wwx, but do not hesitate to chew him out to wen qing. xue yang will also physically fight him if he’s spouting bullshit and mxy isn’t in the vicinity (both for mxy’s sake and because he would try stopping xy.)

i wanna be clear, while this is a recovery au, wwx and everyone else in the burial mounds are not perfect nor are they therapists. all of them are dealing with their own trauma, wwx in particular can be unstable and explosive from time to time. being in the burial mounds is HARD and they will occasionally unfairly lash out at each other or do the wrong thing. they can never “fix” mxy or his trauma or erase his past abuse. but the point of this au is that despite their issues, despite them sometimes unintentionally hurting their loved ones they are found family and they care about each other deeply. through mutual love and respect and patience he didn’t get before, mxy does get to recover :)

random other things (mostly just wen yuan stuff because he’s my favourite character)

wen yuan is learning the basics of normal cultivation as well as demonic cultivation and is developing a golden core. wei wuxian gifted him suibian since it’s sort of useless to him.

lan wangji visits from time to time to check in and play cleansing for them all. one day he teaches wen yuan how to play it on the xiao when he’s not around (lmao you think they have the ability to maintain a guqin given the circumstance?). everyone in the burial mounds loves when lwj comes around to play since it usually ends up with a small concert of three echoing out of the cave.

#mo xuanyu #mxy recovery au #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #written as gen ship but the more i work on this the more it seems like subtle xueyu #ryn talks a lot

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years

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Jung Hoseok and the Magic to Happiness | 06 | End

; Hufflepuff Teacher!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, smut

; Word Count: 7.5k

; Warnings: Penetrative sex, potion influence (? what’s the correct term here), unprotected sex (kinda), creampie, Hoseok licks his fingers...

; Synopsis: An unexpected issue with your Ministry of Magic job leads to you taking the role of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. It’s here that you meet your best friend’s younger brother for the first time in years, the Hufflepuff Head of House, Jung Hoseok. While you contend with seeing him once again, Hoseok tries to show you that he’s very much a man and no longer the gangly teenager you once knew.

; A/N: Final chapter! We’re finally here. I bet you didn’t think I’d actually finish this series, haha. Two series down though! SO...I’m very rusty with smut. I haven’t written it since like...October so please be gentle with me! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and have liked reading this series! Please reblog it so others can find it and send me comments/reviews/feedback via an ask or by reblogging this! :D I love to read them all and your support has helped to encourage me to keep going.

Last Chapter ;

Surprisingly, you don’t see Hoseok for a few days after the Winter Solstice Ball. He’s not present at any of the meals, nor do you see him around the castle either. It simultaneously confuses and concerns you as you worry that he’s feeling too awkward to be around you.

Seokjin, at a pre-Christmas meal at his house, had tried to confirm that he wasn’t avoiding you but instead was simply busy with preparing the magical creatures for the Christmas break. There were exchanges with other schools around the world that occurred at Christmas, meaning that Hoseok was constantly travelling with his creatures and taking custody of the foreign creatures which would be used for the next semester.

You’d viewed that with suspicion as you didn’t recall Hoseok nor Jisoo telling you that, but it did seem like a logical reason. Chaeyoung had backed the argument at the time, her mouth half full of roasted turkey. Given your suspicions about their involvement in trying to get Hoseok and you into a relationship had caused you to watch her suspiciously though.

It was only when Jimin, who had also been present for the meal, had confirmed it with a nod of his head that you’d finally believed them. As far as you knew, Jimin had no involvement and he’d genuinely fascinated with how close the two of you had been at the ball.

So even though it made you feel a little paranoid at his sudden absence after the kiss, you chose to trust your friends and believe what they said. You were already concerned about how to just interact with him when you saw him, you certainly didn’t need to obsess over the fact he ‘might’ be avoiding you.

Instead of letting your mind focus on that though, you instead throw yourself into any work you can do. The Christmas break sees most students gone and only a handful remaining behind. Some of those were because they wanted to continue studying or they didn’t want to leave their friends, others were because they didn’t have a stable home to go back to.

It made your heartache to know that some of your students had such poor home lives but it wasn’t something you could do anything about. Instead, you help to organise visits to Hogsmeade for the students so they can get to enjoy some of their break by just having fun and experiencing some of the Christmas cheer.

You’d also got through all the essays that you had to mark and the first month of the new semester had already been carefully planned out for when the students all returned. This meant that you’d done nearly all your work though and there were only so many books you could read without getting bored.

So you offered your services to the other professor’s who had remained behind, figuring that you could help them out while also reducing your boredom. This is why you were currently in the potion storeroom doing a stocktake; recording how many of each ingredient was left, if there were any that were running low or had run out completely, what potions were stored away and how much of each one.

It wasn’t the most interesting job but it helped to take your mind off things and you felt a little useful at least. You’d only been doing it for half-an-hour before you’d quickly realised why no one liked to do this job, though. The storeroom was bigger than it initially appeared and contained multiple shelving units, with each shelf packed full of ingredients, potions and spare potion-making ingredients.

There was a stale smell to the air which mingled with the faint remnants of potions that had been created in the many cauldrons that littered the room. Alongside that, there was so much dust in the room that you genuinely wondered if anyone used this place. Whilst you weren’t one to advocate using magic for stuff that you could just do by hand, there was no reason to not just do a quick cleaning spell in here.

Then again, you’ve never been amazing at potions so maybe that kind of spell might do something to one of the ingredients. So you just carry on, occasionally sneezing whenever you cause a small dust cloud to appear.

You end up so in the zone that you don’t hear the door open and close, nor the soft footfalls of someone walking in closer. This means you shriek in surprise when you hear your name in a familiar, low voice. Jerking forwards, you knock into the shelves in front of you and wince at the sound of glass hitting each other as bottles wobble dangerously.

“Shit!” Cursing, you miss the bottle with a mother-of-pearl sheen that teeters from the top shelf dangerously. Hoseok, obviously concerned with how he’d surprised you, rushes forward to help stabilise the bottles that are on the verge of smashing all around you.

As he grabs one that’s rolling towards the edge, you reach out to stop another one at the exact moment the top bottle drops. It hits your hand hard, bouncing before hitting the shelving unit and shattering. The potion inside splatters all over you, Hoseok and the shelf. Spiralled steams immediately begin to rise from where it impacts and you vaguely remember that amortentia looks like this.

But then you’re cursing loudly, sputtering as you get a mouthful of it. Without meaning to, you swallow it all and cringe as you feel it slide down your throat. The sound of Hoseok choking causes you to look over and you realise he’s got a mouthful of it as well, his face pinched as he sticks his tongue out from the taste of it.

“What was that?” He asks, blinking rapidly before wiping away what has splashed onto his face. For such a small bottle, it had managed to almost everywhere and even some stray strands of his hair were wet; steam rising slowly.

“If I remember my potions correctly...amortentia.” You say, lips twisting as you stare up at the top of the unit. Why this potion had been stored up there was beyond you as there was nothing else up there but dust. At least no other bottles had broken.

“Ah,” He muses before pausing, eyes widening as something clicks in his head. “Wait, isn’t that the love potion thing?”

“It doesn’t cause people to fall in love. If you remember back to your own potions lessons, no potion is capable of causing true love. Instead, it causes intense infatuation or obsess-oh…” Now your own eyes widen as you stare directly into Hoseok’s, warmth curling within your gut and rushing through your veins until your whole body feels hot.

Almost instantly, the two of you look away from each other. Coughing awkwardly, you shift to the other side of the storeroom, a hand pressed to your cheeks in a futile effort to cool them. Instead, they just feel even warmer.

What happened if two people took it? Especially if those two people already liked each other anyway? Did it just negate itself?

The slow burn within you said no and you let out a shaky breath, resting your forehead against the cool wood of the unit next to you.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me coming in...I wasn’t being quiet or anything.” Hoseok mutters and you glance over, noting the rosy pink gracing the apples of his cheeks. You wonder if it’s because he feels embarrassed or if it’s because he’s experiencing the same, intense feelings that you are.

Inhaling deeply, you tried to calm yourself only to realise that all you could smell was Hoseok. His scent was so strong that it was like he was standing right next to you instead of being on the other side of the room. Almost immediately, you knew it was the potion.

From what you remembered, amortentia caused those feelings for whoever administered it. Considering neither you nor Hoseok had been the one to serve it, you would’ve thought that it would just negate itself. Instead, it seems to have decided that you’ve both administered it to each other.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. I was too deep into my work,” Giving him a nervous laugh, you try to reassure him so he doesn’t get too worried that he’s done something wrong. “How come you’re here? I haven’t seen you in days.”

“Err, yeah...sorry. I’ve been really busy. I forgot to tell you that we usually start doing magical creature exchanges around Christmas to help educate our students on foreign creatures while also allowing other nations to learn about our creatures. It’s been a little hectic as I’ve been exchanging hippogriff’s, bowtruckles and nifflers with Castelobruxo in Brazil. Which as you can imagine has been a little stressful because I think I’ve almost lost about six niffler’s and almost lost a hand to one of the hippogriff’s.” He turns away from you to tidy up some of the shelves, missing your sigh of relief as you realise everyone has been right.

He hadn’t been avoiding you.

“I’m finished now though, for the moment. It took me longer than I liked as the fire slugs we got from Castelobruxo have been continuously burning their cages but I have that completely fixed now. I thought that I’d come to find you as we haven’t talked in a few days and I got told you were here. So...here I am.” Giving you a weak smile, Hoseok turns to look at you while shrugging.

He looks slightly uncomfortable now; a sheen on his golden tan skin while his face looks redder than normal. His hands grasp at nothing on his sides and you find yourself hyper fixated on them. Have you ever really noticed how long and slender his fingers are?

Almost immediately, you imagine those fingers somewhere else and almost moan out loud as you clench inner muscles around nothing. Was this a normal side effect of amortentia? You didn’t know what was happening and you weren’t the best at potions so this was all foreign to you.

At least you’d come to terms with the fact that you were attracted to him and would like to perhaps try a relationship. Otherwise, this would’ve been even more awkward. Not that he knew that yet, which is probably why he’s looking a little distressed.

You don’t feel that it’s the best moment to blurt that out though. Sure, it would reduce any uncomfortableness between you both but was it a good idea to admit you find him attractive too when you’re both suffering the effects of amortentia?

Probably not.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. A few of the others told me that you’d be busy doing this. I didn’t even know that magical creature exchange was a thing!” Cheerfully, you smile at him when he glances at you.

“Still, I should have told you. I’m really sorry.” He mumbles, reaching out to gently brush a scratchy pouch idly. His insistence at apologising causes you to smile and shake your head amused at how genuinely remorseful he is that he’d forgotten to tell you this one thing.

“Honestly, it’s fine. It’s your job, don’t say sorry for doing your job, okay? You’re a great caretaker for the magical creatures and I’m not surprised you forgot to mention it to me. I don’t tell you stuff about my job all the time because you don’t need to know it! So don’t stress.” Reaching for the checklist that you’d been running through earlier, you note down the broken amortentia potion with a small reprimand for the untidy storeroom.

As such, you don’t see the way Hoseok’s face twists as he forces himself to remain quiet.

The two of you remain silent for the next five minutes or so with you attempting to carry on counting the ingredients and potions on the shelves while Hoseok merely lingers in the background. He was so cute.

It would have been a comfortable silence between you both, like you always had with him, if not for the lingering awkwardness of the untalked kiss and the flaring desire of the potion. Shifting awkwardly, your thighs squeeze together in an attempt to relieve some pressure. It doesn’t work and you have to stifle a groan at the small sharp jolt of pleasure.

“Merlin,” Hoseok whispers, causing you to open your eyes and look over at him. His face is even more flushed and you note a slight sheen to his skin as if he’s too hot. If he’s even remotely as warm as you are then it’s entirely understandable and you wonder what you look like to him.

Blowing out a breath, he attempts to fan his face before pinching some of his shirt and pulling at it to get some cooler air. You can tell it doesn’t work because you’ve been subconsciously doing that for the last minute and all it’s done is cause you to imagine Hoseok’s lips brushing along your chest instead of the poor imitation of a breeze.

What finally tipped you over the edge to deciding you’d done enough counting today was yet another glance over to Hoseok. His tall and lithe form has been almost hidden beneath his robes all this time, but an uncomfortable shift causes him to reveal more of his body.

You weren’t normally such a blatant person but you couldn’t help the way your eyes drag down his body, taking in every crease in his crisp white button-up. The key moment that told you to get out of the room now was when your eyes trailed even further below, taking in the leather of his belt.

And the obvious tent in his trousers.

Swallowing so hard that you choke, you quickly move towards the door. The rush of blood throbbing in your ears drowns out Hoseok’s call of surprise, your focus solely on getting out of the overwhelmingly hot room.

The room with the man you’d very recently had decided you were attracted to both romantically and sexually. Not a good combo when you were almost burning from within with lust for him, especially when you know he’s turned on right now.

Running a hand down your face as you rush through the corridors, you can’t stop the quiet groan that leaves your mouth as you do so. Your clothes feel too tight for your body, almost suffocating and the aching need for fingers or something more between your legs is becoming unbearable.

“Y/N, wait!” Finally, Hoseok’s voice breaks through, causing you to falter as you almost pause. Even shouting, his voice is low and sends shivers through your body. A tiny whine escapes and you push forwards, almost jogging now in your effort to get back to your quarters.

Maybe a shower would get rid of this. A very cold shower, or a cold bath. You’d make a potion to counteract it but you’re nowhere near good enough to combat an advanced potion like that.

As your door finally comes into view, and for a moment you marvel at how fast you’ve managed to move from the dungeons that house the potions classroom and the store you’d been working into your quarters.

Not quite fast enough though as Hoseok’s long legs finally let him catch up, his hand reaching out and gently grasping at your arm. He’s touching you through multiple layers of clothing and yet your skin is almost burning, the desire to have him against your bare skin stronger than ever.

You get the feeling that he’s experiencing the same as he suddenly retracts his hand, almost as if he’d burned it and lets out a hiss. The sound is sibilant and low, his breath escaping him quick and you feel a strong urge to hear it once more.

Still, he doesn’t let his surprise or shock stop him. A look at his face shows you that his expression is a mix of concern and worry beneath the flushed cheeks of lust and glassy eyes of desire.

“I’m sorry, did I do something? I didn’t mean to if I did. Please don’t run away from me!” He begs, one hand moving out towards you almost like it has a mind of its own. The way he looks at it, with a scowl like it’s doing something wrong, almost makes you laugh as you can understand his frustration.

You’ve had to stop yourself from reaching out to him at least twice now.

Instead, you give him a tense smile and try to ignore the fact that he’s standing a little awkwardly. It takes far more effort than you’d like to not look down because you know it’s because he has an erection that is probably uncomfortable. Something he likely doesn’t want to bring attention to.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay. I promise. I just...I just needed to get out of that room, you know.” You let your words trail off awkwardly, fidgeting with your hands and trying desperately not to look at his crotch. As usual, though, the temptation to look was made all the stronger by your knowledge that you couldn’t just ogle his groin openly.

“Ah...yeah, er, right. It was quite...quite warm.” He pauses in his sentence though, looking a little conflicted and you follow where his eyes are staring. Right down to your chest, which is currently covered by a soft, cream-coloured jumper that you’d happily pulled on this morning.

It feels more than a little stifling right now though.

As soon as he registers where he’s looking, he sputters and starts to resemble a tomato. An absurdly handsome, tall tomato. The longer you let your thoughts linger there then the more stupid they begin to become.

Still, his blatant want fuels your potion addled senses and you start to speak without thinking.

“Do you like me? Romantically and sexually, you know? I’m pretty sure you do. I’m sorry that I didn’t realise, I’m dumb apparently. I know you’ve been trying to subtly tell me for ages now but I finally did! And I liked our kiss and I really want to do it again. Actually, I wanna do more than kiss you-” Hoseok cuts you off by reaching out for your hand, his fingers slightly calloused but still so damn soft.

And hot against you.

“Yes. I like you, a lot. More than you probably realise. I just didn’t want to push you or make you feel awkward-” Now it’s your turn to interrupt him, twisting your fingers until you can thread them through Hoseok’s.

A slight tug has him following you with wide eyes, the door to your classroom being pushed open and closed as soon as he’s inside. Without another word, you push him up against the wood while grasping at his shirt to tug him closer.

Your lips connect with ease and this time, it’s nothing like the previous kiss. Where that was chaste, this had the flames of lust burning deep within and you moaned out as Hoseok licked into your mouth, stoking that heat within you even further.

Pressing yourself to his body, you let one hand trail along his shirt and sigh as you finally get to confirm that he is exactly as lean and toned as you’d initially thought. Your touch causes him to shiver, breaking away from your lips to press open-mouthed kisses to your jawline almost desperately.

“Hoseok,” Whispering into his ear, you let your other hand run your fingers through his hair before tugging on some of the black strands. “Ah, please.”

You’re not sure what you’re asking him but you don’t care either. Anything he can give you, you’ll take.

His fingertips scorch your skin as he lets them dance over your waist, slipping beneath your jumper with a hunger he can only show. As he does so, he captures your mouth once more and kisses you with such passion and strength that you’re momentarily left breathless.

Trying to kiss him back with equal fervour while your fingers move to unbutton his shirt, losing grip on them as you refuse to move away to look down. It causes him to laugh into it, the sound pleasant and light, before he gently pushes your hands away.

Pulling away from the kiss, he presses his forehead against your own and gives a breathy smile. Glassy eyes and dilated pupils greet you while his breath hits your skin with each puff as he tries to centre himself. And then he almost looks sad; his brow creasing and the corners of his lips turning down.

“We shouldn’t...not like this. I...I really want, oh fuck I want you so bad. But this wasn’t how I imagined...you deserve better. More romantic or some-” Reaching up, you gently place a finger on his lips to quiet him. He does so instantly and you’re pleased that he doesn’t look annoyed at your interruption.

“It’s not what I imagined either but I’m not turning it down. If anything, I’m glad that potion is helping to bolster my confidence because I doubt I’d have got the courage to do anything. So, please, don’t worry about me. I want you and I’m fully aware of myself. All that potion is doing is bolstering my feelings.” You hadn’t known if that was something he was worried about and you wanted to soothe any fears he might have.

It’d be understandable because part of you is also worried that he’s only doing this because the amortentia potion is fuelling an insatiable need within. The way his eyes widen at your words before his whole body relaxes let’s you know that has been a concern of his, causing you to smile, and reach up to cup his cheeks before pulling him into a quick kiss.

“Now, please carry on and don’t stress. We’ll talk properly after, okay?” Hoseok nods and you bite your lip, trying not to laugh at how eager he looks once more.

He doesn’t kiss you again though, instead turning and tugging on your hand. Brows rising, you follow him before watching in astonishment as he sweeps your desk clear of any papers or stationery. Part of you wants to complain, but the thought instantly vanishes when he backs you up until you can feel the solid wood against the backs of your thighs.

“Hoseok! My desk? Seriously?” Giggling, you glance around your classroom and feel a little scandalised. The door to your quarters is only a few metres away but he has an almost playful look in his eyes when he grins back at you. You’d protest doing something like this in your classroom louder if it wasn’t for the fact that you were desperate for him.

He doesn’t respond to those comments though, instead reaching out and ghosting his fingers over your cheek. It makes you shiver as you feel that touch all over.

“Once more...you want this, right? You’d want this even without the potion influence?” You wonder how much amortentia addles the mind but you reason to yourself that you’ve thought about this with him for the last week. About him between your thighs, deep inside you and pleasing you.

“I want it. I’ll want it after, too.” Purposefully lowering your voice, you look at him from beneath your lashes before reaching out and hooking your fingers around his belt. Now he’s the one laughing, the sound low and husky as he lets you pull him forward.

As if you’re magnetically attracted, your lips meet his once more and you sigh into his mouth as he pressed himself against you. Whimpering, you slide your hands around his waist and try to pull him closer. A wiggle on the hard surface has Hoseok’s erection pressing onto your clit, causing you to moan out.

He mirrors the noise, the sound hoarse from his throat and you find yourself grinding against him as well as you can. It doesn’t quite work as you have nothing to brace your legs with but neither of you seems to mind. Thankfully though, Hoseok seems to understand and begins a slow roll of his hips that drives you wild.

But it’s not enough though and you shift away from him, dragging your hands down his front and enjoying the way he moans as your nails scrape through his shirt. Reaching his belt, you fumble to undo it and frown in frustration as you struggle with it.

“Let me,” Hoseok says, undoing the buckle with practised ease and slipping the leather through the meal. The sound of it sparks something inside you, causing you to writhe on the desk and beg him to hurry up. A quirk of his lips tells you that he’s amused at your insistence.

Before he does anything else though, he reaches forward and pushes your skirt along your thighs. The soft material only adds to the overstimulation of your already wired body, causing goosebumps to form all over.

His fingertips on the freshly exposed skin feel even better though, the sensitive skin of your inner thighs sparking fireworks of pleasure and delight at his touch. Letting your head fall back, you just let yourself focus on the feelings and whine softly, pussy clenching around nothing.

Under normal circumstances, you would want to explore all of Hoseok and have the favour returned in full. You’d want the full experience with plenty of foreplay; his mouth and fingers delving into places that only he’s allowed to see.

You’re too desperate though and you pull your skirt up, shifting until you’re laying back on the desk and trying to tug your underwear off. It’s hard to do on the desk though and you’re thankful when Hoseok takes over, his fingers hooking into the soft material and then you’re feeling cool air.

“Fuck.” He curses, eyes focused solely between your legs. You’re almost embarrassed to realise how wet you are, the underwear in his hands sporting a prominent damp batch that has a shiny spot you can see even from here.

Being this close to him and now being half-naked, you want him more than ever and you try to grasp at his wrist, needing him to touch you down there. Anything you can get, you’ll take. Hoseok lets you take his hand, guiding his fingers until they’re pressing against the hardened nub of your clit.

The sound you let out is obscenely loud as you move his hand until he’s touching you in just the right way to send arrows of pleasure through your body. Letting go, you let him carry on and enjoy the heat of him on you, sighing in relief at finally getting what you wanted.

It’s not enough though and you try to shift your hips, lifting them in an attempt to line his fingers with your entrance. He can tell what you’re trying to do though and grins, the expression causing his cheeks to rise while his eyes sparkle down at you.

“Do you just want to do it? You’re already really wet.” He asks, raising a brow and you nod quickly. You don’t want to waste any more time and the thought of having his cock in you is more than you can bear. It doesn’t stop you from whining in displeasure as he takes his hand away to finish undoing his trousers.

To try and combat that, you let your fingers take over from where he was. You know your body better than anyone and almost instantly you’ve got a good rhythm going. The sight of him before you, cheeks flushed with his hair looking ruffled and his shirt creased, is unbelievably erotic.

Unzipping his trousers, he pushes them down his thighs alongside his underwear. You don’t even get to see what kind he wears but you find that you don’t care. Beneath the ends of his white button-up shirt, a prominent erection stands proudly towards you. The tip is swollen and red, unsurprising given how long he’s had it for now.

He’s not the longest, nor the thickest, but you don’t care. Hoseok’s cock is quite possibly the most perfect thing you’ve seen at that moment and all you want is for him to be inside you.

Before you can vocalise that though, he’s suddenly grabbing his wand before his trousers fall to the floor. Resting the tip on your belly, he mutters a quick spell and you realise that he’s got more control of himself than you do as he’d remembered to cast a contraceptive spell. A second spell on both you and him protects you from any diseases or infections, after which he practically throws his wand to the side.

You’d protest his lack of care about something so fragile but you can’t bring yourself to care when he moves forward, letting the tip of cock rest against your pussy. The weight, almost surprising given how it defies gravity, is delightful on your clit and he presses it down, moving in a slow roll that has you sighing.

More wetness coats your pussy, which in turn coats him and you grasp one of his hands. Linking your fingers together, you pull him a little closer and mewl as he slides against the sensitive bundle of nerves once more.

“Please, Hoseok. Please” You beg, causing him to smile with satisfaction.

Placing his free hand on your left leg, he pushes it up a little and out to the side, stretching you open a little more for him. Shivering as the air cools the slick excitement between your legs, you go to protest. It’s cut off though by the feeling of him penetrating you, the blunt head of his cock slipping into you with minimal resistance thanks to how wet you’ve gotten.

Moaning loudly, your eyes close as he stretches you with each inch. It’s been a long time since you’ve slept with anyone and the ragged cry Hoseok pulls from you is directly caused by how good he feels inside you. It’s like you can feel every inch of him as he slides deeper within, the nerves in your walls firing sparks of pleasure continuously until he finally bottoms out.

For a moment, the two of you simply stay in position and bask in the beautiful feeling. You’re panting a little and trying to resist the urge to shift your hips to encourage him to move. One glance at Hoseok tells you to let him move at his own pace.

His face is pinched, brows knitted together and his jaw looking sharper than ever as he clenches his teeth. The fingers wrapped in yours squeeze tightly and after a few seconds, he lets out a guttural groan that sounds as if it was ripped from his gut.

“Shit...Merlin’s beard, you’re so...I don’t know if I’m going to last,” He admits, his cheeks burning redder than ever. “I’m sorry if I don’t. I’ve imagined...this is…”

Grunting, he slowly pulls out before sliding back into you with one fluid motion of his hips. A broken cry escapes your mouth at the pleasure and you reach down to rub at your clit. You’re just as desperate as he is to orgasm, to feel him thick inside you as you convulse around him while waves of pleasure leave you boneless.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Just...move. Please.” You reassure him, trying to smile before your eyes roll back into your head at the second thrust. Still, your words let him gain some confidence and he continues to move in slow and steady snaps of his hips, each drag of his cock better than the last.

Lifting onto your elbows, you risk a glance down to take in the sight of him thrusting into you. His cock is soaked with your wetness and you realise suddenly that it’s causing lewd sounds every time he moves. You’d be embarrassed at it but the sound is strangely erotic to you; the knowledge that he’s caused you to become this wet and experience this much pleasure intoxicating.

The two of you don’t speak for a minute or so after that, far too caught up in just enjoying yourselves and all the feelings that course through your bodies. You suppose the potion is a little to blame for the almost selfish nature of the sex, but there’s also more than enough longing and desire on his side mixing with eagerness and attraction on your own.

“Fuck, I think-I think I’m gonna cum.” Hoseok pants out, his whole chest moving as he gasps out from the strenuous effort of sex. His face has a sheen to it and the damper patches on his white shirt indicate how much he’s sweating from it. Probably also a little from just how warm you’d both ended up.

Moaning out in response, you tip your head back against the cool wood of your desk and let your hand do its work. The combination of his cock inside you and your fingers playing on your clit blend together perfectly and you writhe wildly.

“Ah...shit.” His entire body going rigid as he pushes into you as far as he can get. Watching him, you cry out at how beautiful and sexy he looks as he orgasms; his jaw tightly clenched to show off that beautiful line of bone while the tendons in his neck strain. The hand entwined with yours squeezes harder than ever and he seems to just inside you in tiny movements, almost like he’s extending his pleasure without wasting too much effort.

You can feel the subtle twitch of his cock deep within you and the knowledge that he’s orgasming inside you has your fingers swirling on your clit harder and faster than before. Tightening your inner muscles, you relish in the strangled moan Hoseok lets out and the increase of feeling.

Not long after he lets out a final sigh, deeper than anything else, and he strokes his free hand down your thigh. It’s almost an encouraging touch and even though he’s finished, he moves in you with a slow and lazy stroke. The slight wince he has tells you that he’s probably a little overstimulated but he doesn’t complain and you cry out as your whole body tenses up.

Back bowing and head pressing into the desk, you tighten your eyes closed as high pitched whines and breathes escape your throat. Hips rolling in a circular motion, you continue to stroke at the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs until the sensation becomes too much. Pulling your hand away, you’re surprised when Hoseok grabs at it suddenly.

He slips out of you, his cock rapidly becoming flaccid nows that’s had his fill and you shift at the sensation of liquid that’s slightly thicker than your excitement beginning to leak from you. The knowledge that it’s come from him is surprisingly arousing and you try to push the thought away.

Something not helped by the fact that Hoseok takes the fingers that had been so busy with your clit and licks them clean, groaning out quietly as he finally gets to taste you. It’s probably not the way he imagined doing it, but Merlin, it’s certainly an attractive way.

“That was good,” He finally says, letting your hand drop and you miss the feel of his tongue already. “Better than I’ve ever imagined...and I imagined it a lot.”

He’s flushed from the intense exercise but the bashful look to his eyes tells you that some of that pink tinge is also from his shyness. You can’t help but grin at the fact he’s getting quiet after just fucking you so hard on your desk.

Sitting up slowly, you stretch and enjoy the satisfying feeling of multiple muscles in your body and the overall sense of contentment that washes through you. Reaching forward, you wrap your arms around his neck after he’s tugged his trousers and underwear back up before kissing him gently.

“How flattering, Professor Jung. I feel honoured.” There’s a hint of teasing in your voice but you keep it light enough to know that you’re not being mean to him. Instead, you’re pleased by his admission that he’s thought of you sexually. Perhaps you don’t want to know about what his teenage fantasies were but you’ll happily accept his adult fantasies.

It works to make him snort a laugh and shake his head, stroking his hands along your waist.

“And as amazing as the sex was...I’m feeling a little tired and sore from the desk. So let’s take this into my quarters, shall we?” Pushing him, you hop off the desk and let your skirt fall back into place. It’s creased now and there’s likely wet stains on the back alongside what will eventually become semen stains too.

Hoseok doesn’t follow you as you move towards the door leading to your bedroom, causing you to turn and give him an arched brow in question. Opening the door without looking at it, you smile brightly before winking.

“Well? Do you want me to be alone in my bed?” Turning away from him, you quickly pull off your shirt and throw it out of the door for him to see. It’s only seconds before you hear the sound of him following quickly, causing you to smile to yourself.

Yawning widely, you stretch out your arms and almost hit Hoseok in the face. Toes brushing against his leg as you do so, he lets out a laugh that’s more movement than sound. The rumble of his chest beneath your cheek is comforting and you sigh deeply in contentment. It had been only half an hour or so since you’d had sex and what was likely only three hours since you’d both fucked the first time.

You had to give Hoseok credit; he knew exactly what he was doing.

Just the thought of the frantic sex on your desk had you heating up in dual embarrassment and desire. Embarrassment because...well it was your desk! In your classroom. How were you ever going to look at the table without remembering what had happened on top of it?

The desire was a more obvious, and expected, emotion though. Experiencing that again would be very welcomed on your behalf and you suspected that Hoseok would be just as open to it.

Nuzzling your head into him, you took in a deep breath to get a concentrated dose of Hoseok mixed with sex. It was a heady scent and you squeeze your thighs, feeling the wetness that was still there.

Despite the horny monster he’s released, you feel a sense of tired contentment between you both. Hoseok hasn’t said anything since you’d both collapsed onto the bed after a rigorous second round and you hadn’t wanted to interrupt it yet. It was nice to just enjoy the tired aftermath of sex without the pressure of talking anything out.

Even if you knew that you both had to.

As if he can tell what you’re thinking, Hoseok takes a deep breath that has your head rising.

“I didn’t intend for...well for this. I swear,” He says, his voice a little nervous and you can tell he’s uncertain about how you’re going to respond now the potion has run its course. “I’m sorry for knocking the potion over, it was stupid of me.”

Pushing up onto your elbow, you reach up and place a finger against his lips to stop him from saying anything else. He looks at you, his cheeks adorably full from this angle and his eyes dark while he waits for you to say whatever you’re thinking.

What you’re thinking is that his lips are so soft beneath your fingertip, plush and swollen from the frantic kisses. Before you can think of anything else, you shift forward until you’re kissing him once more, the movement slow enough for him to stop it if he didn’t want to.

He lets you though, one hand coming up to cup the back of your neck in support, and opening his mouth to deepen it. A quiet moan leaves your throat as you slant your mouth against his, tilting your head to find the perfect angle and shivering as he slips his tongue into your willing mouth.

Any hint of a conversation disappears between you both, his free hand running down your naked back in a slow stroke that’s so sensual it has you quivering. But you know that he understands that you’re not annoyed at him; actually the exact opposite.

Pulling away, you lick at your lips and note the unfiltered lust in his eyes as he watches you do so, before smiling at him. Brushing some of his dark hair away from his face, admiring just how handsome he was.

“Don’t worry about it, honestly. I was fully aware of myself and wanted it. I already told you that and I meant it. The potion just helped me to get over my inhibitions. Trust me, I was already considering this after the Winter Solstice Ball. I just didn’t know how to get over the hurdle of being nervous about it.” Now it’s his turn to comfort you, his fingertips tracing across your face in a featherlight touch.

It’s almost painfully tender and the sparkling warmth in his eyes tells you that there’s something much deeper there for him. But you don’t push and he doesn’t spill. He’ll tell you when he’s comfortable with it, and you’ll be there to hear it.

Instead, he opens up with an entirely different kind of vulnerability. The confidence he’s shown so far disappears and you note fondly that it makes him look younger. Something he’d probably hate you saying.

You’ve finally figured out why he never likes conversation about the age difference between you both, at least.

“Really? Do you really mean that? I mean, about considering it?” Hoseok sounds awkward, his voice pitching higher than normal at one point and causing him to cough while his cheeks darken. The urge to coo is unbelievable.

“Yes, I mean it. I was a little taken aback when I first came here and I saw how much you’d changed since I’d last seen you. But you became one of my closest friends and the last few weeks has had me looking at you...in a slightly different light. You were...unreal at the ball and it made me realise a lot of things. And the kiss spurred that on, too. I talked with Jisoo and she helped me to see that...you’re not just her little brother. I’d been putting that label on you in an attempt to keep you at arm’s length, but I don’t want that now. I don’t need to, because I’ve accepted that I find you attractive and I would be open to more if you wanted it.” The words fall from your mouth in a rush, taking advantage of the confidence you had to get this out.

“I want it.” You don’t even get to say anything else because Hoseok interrupts you with those three simple words, the syllables fast as his enthusiasm takes over. Snorting quietly, you kiss his cheek affectionately and enjoy it when it pinkens once more.

“Someone’s eager.” Teasing him, you roll onto your back and let out a sigh as you stare up at the blank ceiling. There’s a slight chill in the air, common in such an old castle as Hogwarts, but you feel your nipples pebble from it. Shuddering, you go to tug the blanket over your naked body and Hoseok’s.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a while, so yeah. But we can talk about that more later if you want?” Looking over at him, you smile at the happiness on his face and note how he seems so much lighter than before. The knowledge that you’ve done this to him is a little overwhelming, causing you to let out a sudden breath.

And then you notice that he’s not only happy in the metaphorical sense but also in the physical sense, a prodding against your thigh causing you to peek under the blanket. Sure enough, his well-endowed erection was very prominent against you.

Raising an eyebrow, you look up at Hoseok with a mix of exasperation, amusement and admiration.

“Already? Three times in an evening?” Now Hoseok is the one smirking, the palm of his hand pressing flat against your stomach before slowly creeping down your body. The low lying flame of desire that had settled burns back to life now and you subtly wriggle in your bed, thighs opening as your body tries to get those long fingers where you want them.

“One of the benefits of a younger man,” Wiggling his brows, he grins when you chuckle before pushing at his chest. “If our age difference is ever mentioned again then I want this to be the thing you remember most.”

And with that, he flashes his teeth in a mischievous smile before disappearing under the blanket, ignoring your shriek of laughter at how his fingers tickle. That laughter soon dissolves into a moan when he reaches his destination though and as you grasp his hair tightly, glad that you finally took the plunge and realised what a wonderful man Jung Hoseok is.

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arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Rebecca... or was it always Y/N?

A/N: Feels like a lifetime since i posted anything, sorry for the silence over the last few days! I’ve been back at work so i will be slowly emptying my inbox, if anyone still has a request in there i’m not ignoring it, i just have less time so it’s taking longer! I hope you enjoy this one! It’s angsty but has a good ending! Decided to post a day early seeing as it's ready to go!

Summary: Tom is in love with a woman who doesn’t love him back. Y/N is in love with Tom and he doesn’t think he loves her back.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of smut (but nothing major at all).

W/C: 4.6K (My one shots will now be longer as i’ll only be posting one a week and i hope the W/C doesn’t put anyone off).

Y/N was watching it unfold before her eyes and felt nothing but helpless, Tom was falling in love and there was nothing she could do. It wasn’t because she was in love with him that she was sad, no, it was because Rebecca was going to rip his heart out and not give him a second thought. Y/N cursed herself daily for letting them meet, Rebecca was attractive anyone could see that, she was beautiful, but she wasn’t a good person and Y/N knew this.

Rebecca worked with Y/N and they got along but Y/N knew about her tendencies and her commitment issues. Rebecca was never any bodies girlfriend, she always told Y/N she “preferred to be the woman on the side, it’s more interesting.” Tom had taken an instant liking to her when she approached their table in the bar to say hi and she wished to god she’d have dragged Tom home as soon as she saw him chatting her up.

They were sleeping together, everyone knew that but it wasn’t anything beyond that, Rebecca was clever, she enjoyed the attention Tom gave her and mostly enjoyed the amount of money he was willing to spend on her. So Rebecca kept him happy, she kept him completely at arms-length, she would occasionally allow him to cuddle her, kiss her and every now and again she’d stay the night. Y/N remembers the first time she brought it up to Tom.

“Tom, you really need to be careful.” She said as she watched Rebecca leave and Tom sat next to her on the sofa.

“How’d you mean?” He asked with furrowed brows.

“I told you months ago that she doesn’t commit Tom.” She sighed and Tom huffed.

“Y/N, she stays the night.” Tom said matter of factly and she smiled sadly at him.

“Tom, she stops once a week and I think you know why she does that.”

“Fucking hell Y/N, can you just let me be happy?” Tom snapped.

“Tom, it’s not that I don’t want you to be happy, you’re my best friend but she isn’t good for you.” She sighed and Tom huffed again, so she continued. “She doesn’t commit, she told me that herself, she keeps you at arms-length because she knows if she lets you kiss her every now and again outside the bedroom you won’t catch on to what she’s doing.” Y/N sighed as she ran a hand through her hair.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tom folded his arms over his chest and Y/N looked at him carefully before she asked her next question, dreading the answer.

“Tom, are you in love with her?”

“Yes.”

Y/N was heartbroken for him, she really was and she didn’t want to interfere; it wasn’t something she enjoyed being done to her but she knew this wasn’t going to end well. When Tom loved, he loved with everything he had in him, he gave his everything and Y/N knew it wouldn’t be long before he was crying into her chest as she tried to console him. She’d brought it up to Rebecca and it was then that Y/N and Rebecca stopped speaking completely, Y/N hated her now for what she was doing to her best friend.

“Rebecca, do you love Tom?” She asked casually over their lunch break.

“No.” Rebecca snorted and Y/N’s heart broke in two as she thought about what this was going to do to him.

“He loves you.” She sighed.

“Oh, I know.” Rebecca smirked. “He’s the easiest guy I’ve ever had to string along.” She laughed again and Y/N felt her blood boil. She knew Rebecca wasn’t nice when it came to men but she had no idea just how cruel she was.

“Do you think that’s fair though? Doing this to him?” She tried to reason and Rebecca laughed.

“Look, Y/N. I like you.” Y/N fucking hated her. “But it’s none of your business.”

“Just, please. Whatever you do, don’t sleep with anyone else whilst you’re sleeping with him. I can’t watch him fall apart like that again, I just can’t.” Y/N sighed as she felt tears brim her eyes at the thought of her best friend being used like this.

“We aren’t together you know. I’m not his girlfriend.” She snapped.

“Just, please. Don’t do that too him.” Y/N almost begged.

Y/N hoped that she wasn’t sleeping with other people, no they weren’t together but Tom was in love with her and she knew that, she fucking knew and it made Y/N’s blood boil, she’d tried to bring it up to Tom but he wouldn’t have it and now they weren’t on speaking terms.

“Tom, I really need to talk to you.” She said as she came in from work.

“What’s wrong princess?” He asked, he was concerned she’d had a bad day.

“It’s about Rebecca.” She said and Tom sighed, anger rising in his chest.

“Not this again. Y/N, what the fuck is your problem?” He snapped and she was taken aback at how quickly he’d gotten mad at her.

“She doesn’t love you Tom, she told me herself.” She said desperately, she needed him to understand so he wouldn’t fall any deeper but Rebecca had her claws well and truly dug into his heart, ready to squeeze everything from it as she ripped it in half. “Why do you think she won’t be your girlfriend?” She asked desperately.

“Because of who I am and the attention that would bring. You have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re just jealous.” Tom shouted and she felt some of her own anger rise but she tried to swallow it down, he was just love blind.

“No, Tom, that’s not it and I think you know it.” She said as she ignored the jealousy comment as best she could.

“All I know is that you can’t be happy for me, you’re trying to ruin this for me and why? I’ll tell you why, you’re jealous that I have someone and you don’t. Or is it because you’re in love with me and still haven’t gotten over it.” Ouch, Y/N felt utterly betrayed by her best friend.

She’d let slip that she was in love with him a few months before he met Rebecca, he didn’t feel the same and she was okay with that. It surprisingly didn’t change their friendship, she was heartbroken for a while but she learned to accept it. There was always a part of her that would love him, she knew that but she’d learned to live with it. Right now though, she was regretting him ever knowing.

“You know what Tom. Fuck you. No, I’m not doing this because of any other reason than the fact that you are my best friend. I’m not going to stand here and let you berate me for caring. She’s gonna break your heart.”

“Bullshit, you’re doing it because you’re bitter that I don’t love you. You’re jealous that someone else has my attention and it’s not all on you.” He spat and she felt the tears fall. She couldn’t stop them falling as she realised she couldn’t do anything to make him see sense, but he’d also just stabbed at her own heart.

“Okay, well if that’s how you want to be, then I’ll stop trying to help you. For the love of god Tom, please be careful. But think twice before running to me when she breaks your heart.” Y/N said as her tears fell faster and Tom noticed the crack in her voice and how vulnerable she looked and his anger instantly washed away and he watched her sniffle and make her way up to her room. He felt awful, he shouldn’t have said that.

Tom had tried to speak to Y/N, tried to apologise, but she wouldn’t have it, she was angry with him and rightfully so. Harrison had given him an earful for being a dick and he took it.

“That’s not really fair Tom.” Harrison had said when Tom had told him why they weren’t speaking.

“I know.” Tom ran a hand through his hair.

“Look, I love you both and I’m not picking sides but it’s a bit fucked up that you would do that. She’s been your best friend over her own feelings for you for years. Do you have any idea how hard it was for her to comfort you when you were crying over other women? It broke her heart as much as it did yours. She’s not a bitter person Tom and you know that, she was happy for you when you had other girlfriends.” Harrison reasoned and Tom felt his heart ache as he thought about what he’d put his best friend through.

“She was never angry that you don’t love her the way she loves you. Never. Have you considered that maybe she really is just trying to help you? I agree with Y/N, Rebecca is no good for you and you need to wake up and smell the fucking coffee Tom and decide if losing your best friend was worth it.” Harrison sighed and Tom felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach.

“What do you mean? Y/N will come round, she’s my best friend Haz, she won’t fall out with me permanently will she?” Tom was panicking now, she’d been his best friend for a long time, a very long time.

“Tom.” Harrison sighed. “You’ve given her a lot to think about. Throwing the fact that she’s in love with you in her face made her realise there’s a power dynamic to your relationship now, one that was never there before.” Harrison said carefully as Tom furrowed his brows.

“What do you mean a power dynamic?”

“Tom, she’s in love with you. She puts your feelings before her own all the time and you proved that you don’t when you threw that in her face. She’s always going to care more about you than you do her.” Harrison sighed and Tom felt his heart break.

“I don’t wanna lose her Haz, she’s my best friend. Can you help me fix it?” Tom asked his friend and Harrison shook his head.

“Mate, I wouldn’t know where to start. She’s really fucking hurt, I think you should just leave her be for a while and figure your own shit out.”

Tom took what Harrison had said and really thought about it. He missed Y/N, he really did, it was torture watching her interact with the rest of the boys and she couldn’t even meet his eyes. He wanted his best friend back but that seemed like a long shot at this point. Rebecca was supposed to be coming round today and whilst he was excited to see her, his mind was currently on his best friend, they’d not spoken for weeks.

“Hi.” Rebecca said as she made her way into his room, pulling him from his thoughts. He smiled when he heard her voice.

“Hi.” He said as she joined his place on the bed sitting against the headboard, she instantly straddled him and his hands found her waist. She kissed him and his heart fluttered, Y/N was still itching to the front of his thoughts but he pushed them back, Rebecca was here.

One thing led to another and they both had their shirts off, Tom saw it and his heart dropped. A love bite on her breast that he knew he’d not left there. He pulled back as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“What’s that?” He asked as he gestured towards the mark and she huffed.

“We’re not exclusive Tom.” She reminded him and he felt his heart shatter.

“I thought, you said you didn’t wanna sleep with anyone else?” He rambled and she rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t and then I did. It’s not a big deal Tom, I’m not your girlfriend.” She snapped and Tom’s heart was broken as he swallowed his tears down.

“But I love you.” Tom tried to reason and she moved off him completely.

“I never said I loved you.” She snapped back and Tom wondered if she’d always been so cruel.

“But-“ Tom went to say before she interrupted him.

“Look, Tom. We aren’t exclusive and I don’t love you.” She said matter of factly. “I enjoy your company don’t get me wrong, but I thought you knew I don’t do the whole girlfriend thing.” She said and Tom felt his tears fall.

“But you stayed with me, you did things that you don’t normally do.” Tom reasoned and she huffed again.

“Were you really so blind Tom? I thought you knew what I was doing and was okay with it? I’ve been sleeping with Michael for a while.” Rebecca said and his heart felt numb. Y/N was right. “Look, it was fun, it was but we should stop this.” Rebecca said and Tom felt his anger rise.

“You knew I was in love with you and you strung me along, making me think we had a shot. Fantastic.” Tom snapped and she laughed.

“Like you’re any different.” She said and he was confused by that.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Tom gritted out.

“Oh please. As if people don’t know Y/N is in love with you and you continued to be close to her didn’t you? Still cuddled her when she’d had a bad day, made everything better. Do you not think that was hard for her? Or is it only a problem when someone does it to you?” She shouted and Tom’s face fell, there was a part of what she said that was true.

“I didn’t do it on purpose though.” Tom snapped and it was true, he would never string Y/N along on purpose. Rebecca laughed as she put her shirt back on, it wasn’t a nice laugh, more mocking in nature.

“Look, you did this to yourself, I know she tried to warn you and you didn’t listen did you? Thought you could be the one to change me, but you can’t, I don’t love you and I never will.” Tom felt like he had nothing left in him as his tears fell down his face, he felt like an idiot.

“Get out.” He snapped and she huffed as she grabbed her bag.

“Gladly.” She fired back as Tom let his tears fall hard down his face. He was heartbroken, he really did love her and it felt like she’d cheated on him. Maybe she was right, they weren’t exclusive but it still hurt and he pulled his knees to his chest as he cried.

Y/N came home as Rebecca angrily made her way out of the door and Y/N knew he must have found out. Y/N had been told that day that Rebecca was sleeping with Michael as well as Tom and her heart broke for him. Michael gave her the one thing Tom couldn’t, the excitement of being a woman on the side. She heard his cries and it took everything in her to not comfort him, she was still hurt, so she swallowed down her own tears as she made her way into her bedroom, right next to Tom’s.

She listened to him cry for an hour and didn’t move, just silently cried, the guilt consumed her but she couldn’t cave. She knew he was heartbroken but she just couldn’t bring herself to forget what he said. This went on for three days, she’d listen to him cry as the other boys tried to comfort him but it didn’t work.

“Y/N?” Tuwaine asked as he opened her bedroom door, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Yeah?” She asked weakly.

“Can you please tell me what to do? I don’t know how to make him stop.” He asked and Y/N sighed.

“Cup of tea, cuddles, reassure him that he’s going to be okay. He likes it when you play with his hair, comforts him.” She said and Tuwaine gave her a small smile as he disappeared.

Ten minutes later she heard Tom shout for Tuwaine to leave him alone and seconds later Tuwaine was back at her door.

“I don’t think he wants me.” Tuwaine said sadly as she sighed. “I know it’s a lot to ask and don’t feel like you have to but maybe you should go and talk to him.” Tuwaine said quietly and she sighed as she nodded. It was torture for her to listen to him cry on and off and she made her way off her bed and into his bedroom.

Her heart broke as she took him in, he looked like he’d hardly slept and his eyes were red and puffy. She sat next to him on the bed and before she had a chance to do or say anything she was pulled tightly against his chest as he cried into her hair.

Tom inhaled the scent of her shampoo and realised how much he’d missed her. He knew he missed her just not this depth, it was like having her back in his arms was everything he’d needed in the last few weeks, it felt right to have her there. He cried into her hair as she hugged him tightly and he realised after a few minutes that he was no longer crying over Rebecca, he was crying over how much he’d missed her.

She moved them so she was sat against the headboard and his head was stuffed into her chest as he cried, she ran her fingers through his hair as she felt him calm slightly.

“You’re gonna be okay Tom.” She whispered and Tom felt guilty, which brought a fresh wave of tears, here she was comforting him and it was all because he didn’t listen to her. He’d upset her and here she was comforting him, he realised Harrison was right. She would always put his feelings first. He cried over his guilt, thoughts of Rebecca completely leaving him as he was crying over his best friend. She always knew what to do, she always knew what he needed and he realised that he missed her for an entirely different reason, it was like a slap to the face.

He always thought he didn’t love her the way she loved him and now he was wondering if he was right. She was the first person he went to when he was upset or had news to share, she was the only person who could ever comfort him when things were wrong, she was the person who made him crack a smile when he’d had a shit day. He thought about it as he cried, as she ran her fingers through his hair and told him that he was going to be okay. He thought about how blind he truly had been, it’d always been her, she was always the one he ran to, sought comfort in.

He couldn’t stop himself as he pulled his head from her chest and placed his lips against hers. She was stunned for a second before she kissed him back, he moved his hands to her hair as he went to deepen the kiss.

Y/N was stunned for a second before she melted into the kiss and it wasn’t until he licked her bottom lip to ask for entrance that she realised what was happening.

“Tom.” She said into his lips as she pushed at his chest, eyes wide. “Tom.” She said again as she pushed more forcefully. He pulled back after a second, looking at her confused. She couldn’t help the anger rising in her chest, had he just kissed her whilst crying over someone else?

“Y/N-“ Tom started and she cut him off.

“You can’t do that Tom. That’s not fair, I’m not some rebound.” She said as she got off his bed.

“Y/N, that’s not-“ He went to say and she interrupted him again, her anger getting the better of her.

“I am in love with you and you know that. Why would you fucking do that? I know you don’t love me back. That’s fucking, I can’t.” She ranted as she tried to process what was going on.

“Y/N, I’m an idiot.” Tom said and she sarcastically laughed.

“Yeah Tom, you really fucking are.” She shouted as she slammed his bedroom door and made her way into her room. Tom felt awful, he realised what it looked like but he was in love her, he should have just told her. He was stunned for a second before he collected himself and ran out of his bedroom, instantly finding himself outside her door as he knocked, he heard her crying and his heart broke, why couldn’t he just get things right with her?

She was angry with him as tears made their way down her cheeks and when she heard him knock she opened the door again, about to give him both barrels, she was so angry with him.

“What?” She shouted as she ripped her bedroom door open.

“I’m in love with you.” He said and she felt her anger boil over again.

“Tom, this isn’t fucking funny. You-“ She shouted but was instantly cut off when he stepped closer to her and shut her bedroom door, his hands finding her cheeks as he pressed his lips to hers. She pushed at his chest again in protest and he disconnected their lips.

“I’m in love with you and I’m a fucking idiot for not seeing it sooner.” He said and she laughed.

“You have just spent the last three days crying over another woman Tom.” She stated as she moved away from him.

“I know. But I wasn’t crying just then because of her.” He said and she scoffed before she went to make her way out of the room, Tom grasped at her hands as he spun her around and pinned her against the door. “I was crying because I missed you.” He said and she felt her heart hammering in her chest. He had his arms caged around her head and she was instantly aware of their close proximity as he continued.

“I was crying because I felt guilty for not seeing it sooner. It’s always you I run to when I need something. It’s always you that makes me feel better and I couldn’t pin down why until Tuwaine tried. You know what to do, you know what I need, you care for me in a way I didn’t think was possible. You make me feel safe, wanted, like I’m good enough.” He whispered as he inched his face closer to hers and she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

“I realised so much, it was like a slap in the face, it was overwhelming. I love that when you’re sad, you steal my hoodies and curl up in them, I love how fucking big they are on you. I love when you wear my clothes and I couldn’t pinpoint why for so long, but now I get it. I love the way you ramble about the things you love and don’t give a shit if anyone else is actually listening, but I always do. I always listen because you talk so passionately about things you love, your eyes light up and you smile and it’s contagious, you could talk about fucking bread and I’d listen.” He laughed lightly as she stared at him, heart still hammering in her chest.

“I love how clumsy you are, it’s fucking adorable. I love how intelligent you are. I love how you have to have your feet tucked into the duvet so you can sleep, even if it’s too hot. I love it when you wear your hair up in a bun more than I should, I never thought anything of it until I realised why I love it so much. I love it because I get a better look at your beautiful face, I love it because it exposes your neck and collarbones better.” He said, his lips were almost touching her as she breathed hard.

“I know it’s long overdue and that I had to hurt you before I realised, I could go on for hours about everything I love about you, because I do. I love you, Y/N.” He whispered again and she was crying, she hadn’t realised that she was until he wiped them away with his thumb. She was yet to say anything. “You’re not a rebound Y/N, I think deep down all those other girls were.” He said and she couldn’t stop herself as she connected their lips, salty tears mixing together as he pulled her impossibly closer to him.

Her hands found his hair as she tangled her fingers through his curls. One of his hands found her waist, whilst the other cupped her neck. The kiss grew more passionate as they let their love for each other pour into it, he licked her bottom lip asking for entrance and this time she granted it. He pushed her further into the door as they continued to kiss. After a while they both pulled away for air and he placed his forehead against hers.

“I mean it Y/N, I love you.”

“Tom, if this is some sort of joke, I can’t take it. It would break me.” She whimpered and he realised how vulnerable she was as she wouldn’t meet his eyes, the hand that was cupping her neck moved her head to look at him.

“This isn’t a joke princess. I’m in love with you and I mean that. I know the timing is off but I do and I mean it. It’s always been you, I was just too much of a fucking idiot to realise it and I’m sorry.” He said and it was so honest, the look in his eyes was so honest that she smiled, he meant it.

“I love you Tom, I really do.” She said and he smiled. “But you need time to get over her and make sure it is how you really feel. I’d love to be so selfish and have you now but I can’t, you loved her and you need to get over her.” She said and Tom’s heart broke again at her words.

“But I really do love you Y/N/N. Baby, I need you.” Tom said as he let his tears fall again.

“You have me Tom, you always will whether that be as your best friend or your girlfriend but you need to take some time to get Rebecca out of your system, okay?” He knew what she was saying and as much as he wanted her right now, he couldn’t she was right, up until twenty minutes ago he thought he was in love with someone else. He needed time to get over Rebecca properly and then he could fully give himself to Y/N.

It was going to take time but it was okay she’d wait for him and be his best friend, like she always had been and he returned to her bedroom door six months later, she opened it and he kissed her again, his feelings for her never changed, he loved her with all he had, only this time his love was reciprocated properly.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n

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nightshade-minho · 4 years

Text

MOONSTORM [ iii ]

You know that feeling when you know you’ve made a terrible mistake?

Yes. That feeling.

It’s a feeling that never really goes away. You had to learn that the hard way.

Irrevocable actions, stupid mistakes. You were heart-wrenchingly familiar with all of it.

To err was human apparently. You...weren’t human, though.

It seems like being superhuman was insignificant, after all. At the end of the day, nothing mattered. None of your powers did.

Despite it all, you still lost him.

warnings: depressing shit (it gets better though dw) mentions of death, violence, sexual content, future smut

wc: 2.8k

moonstorm masterlist

It felt like the world had lost all color.

It had happened so many months ago, and yet it still felt like it happened just yesterday. The memories of stumbling out of his lair, covered in his blood and your tears, still fresh in your mind.

The image of his face, betrayed and yet so calm as he uttered those last words to you...it haunted you constantly.

You found yourself looking at the moon every night, dreaming about what could have been. The nightmares endlessly plagued your sleep as well, causing you to fear even your own bed.

No...even after Hyunjin's effects on you wore off, your own brain took on the responsibility of torturing you by conjuring up more heartbreaking dreams. Dreams which made you long for something you knew you’d lost forever- never to be yours again.

You never truly realized how much you’d gotten used to having him around. Life was so glaringly empty and meaningless without him. It was a complicated relationship…and yet it still left a giant hole in you. An all-encompassing despair that threatened to swallow you up.

With him gone, it just didn’t feel right to be a superhero anymore. How could you be the strong role model for everyone in the city to rely on when you knew just how weak you’d become? Even when the newspapers were covered with your heroics, even as the mayor addressed the city and expressed his desire to give you a medal for stopping yet another supervillain from roaming the streets- you stubbornly refused to don that costume ever again.

You stayed hidden through it all. You just couldn’t bring yourself to go out in public anymore. Your vigilante costume lay forgotten in the back of your closet- crumpled and sad.

It just...felt wrong. At the moment you felt nothing but pathetic. You didn’t have time to waste saving a snotty kitten stuck on a tree or stop a petty criminal from robbing a bank- all you were fit to do was eat ice cream straight from the can, and watch a soulless movie. The same routine, day in and day out. You hadn’t left your apartment in nearly a month, not even to buy groceries. Every second was spent wrapped up in blankets, pondering what you’d done.

Was that selfish of you? Probably. You were discovering new flaws by the second.

Sighing, you sat up a little, your ass almost numb from how long you’d spent lying down. Glancing up, you saw your father’s portrait looking down at you. You swallowed and slowly stood up from your bed, groaning to yourself. Why did he suddenly seem so disappointed?

Maybe a little bit of fresh air is what you needed, considering you were starting to believe the paintings were changing expressions. After all, you had work to do anyway- might as well take advantage of the nearby café’s free WiFi.

***

Here at last.

You sat down in the corner of the café, so tired you could barely move a muscle. But you had to get a move on with your life- the recovery should have happened by now.

And yet here you were, months later. Nothing seemed to be able to fill the hole he left behind, and even now you wished you could go back home as soon as possible.

Had it...had it been a mistake?

Of course it had. Your misery was evidence, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could convince yourself that you’d done it for the good of the city.

The truth was... Hwang Hyunjin scared you.

He made you feel things, made you want to be someone else entirely. Every ounce of rigidity and austerity you’d imposed in yourself disappeared every time you were with him. He made you want to give everything up- give up all the responsibilities and burdens you carried on your shoulders to be with him. To be like him- free.

It wasn’t Hyunjin who was a threat to the city. No, not directly.

It was you- or rather the lack of you.

This city needed you to survive, and if Hyunjin managed to change you...it surely wouldn’t have lasted long without your help. Hyunjin had never really been the city’s biggest threat- there were far worse villains and it was them who you really fought against.

He was more of just an inconvenience, someone you had to deal with from time to time. And then he’d struck that deal- after which the nature of your relationship had turned into something entirely different.

Every time he acted up, it was usually just a ploy to get your attention. And attention was exactly what he got. You’d reinforced his behavior like an idiot.

You told yourself it was a chore, but it wasn’t all that convincing. You’d loved spending those nights in his bed, loved the way he was an expert at making you come undone with his body and his words.

It really had seemed like a good idea at the time. The right thing to do. However, it was quickly starting to seem like anything but.

You sighed as your mind tried its best not to travel back all those months. Dipping a teabag into the liquid, you mindlessly observed the customers in the cafe. Many of them were young, teenagers who were heading out before class.

You sighed as you recalled your own high school days, the times Hyunjin and you had hung out in a cafe much like this one.

“You don’t have to help me with this project, you know.”

“Ah, shush. It’s our final year. I’m not going to leave you alone.” He smiled as he flipped through his books, taking a sip of his coffee occasionally.

“You act like you’re not sticking to me like white on rice the rest of the year.” You roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself.

“Don’t get snippy with me, missy.” He smirked, still thumbing the pages nonchalantly. “Or I’ll have to punish you.”

“You- I- what?” You wouldn’t admit it, but the thought caused a fluttering sensation in more than one place. It was a little bit of a shock, considering the two of you had done nothing more than make out and flirt, until now.

“Chill. I’m kidding.” He shook his head, looking up at you. “Unless…” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Stop it! I’m supposed to be working right now.” You whined, swatting him with a rolled up paper.

“I don’t care.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “Hm...do you know what I’m thinking of right now, Y/n?”

“W-what?”

“Thinking about how easy it would be to slip my fingers under your skirt and play with that pretty pussy of yours. I’m pretty sure it’s soaked your underwear through by now.”

Fuck.

Your cheeks flushed as you stared at your plate. You couldn’t find it in yourself to respond properly- his mere words had already turned you to a mess.

“S-shut up.” You mumbled, reading out formulas aloud as you tried to divert your attention from it. Hyunjin let out a teasing chuckle at your lame attempt to change the topic, shaking his head as he stared at his book again, unaware you were looking over your own at him, pressing your thighs together subtly.

God, he was so...so annoying.

You snapped out of it, sighing as you looked around at the much less crowded cafe. Had it always looked so dull? So lifeless?

The thought of him was hurtful- it felt like a dull knife, screwing itself into you. Reminding you what you’d done.

You’d killed the love of your life.

And now? There was no way to bring him back.

***

“Murder is never something a superhero should resort to. A good hero always stays true to themselves- they only kill if it’s absolutely necessary.”

A cough.

“But of course...villains are exempt from that rule. Killing one villain’s life could save countless others.”

Hm. You weren’t exactly sure if your father was right. Although you were just a child, you still had some knowledge of morality.

Was he? Killing just...seemed wrong. You didn’t know if you could bring yourself to do it, no matter how evil the person was.

“Surely there are other ways to neutralize someone evil, Father?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, before shaking his head coldly. “Untrue.”

“The truth is, some lives are expendable, my dear Y/n…” Another cough, before he cleared his throat and fixed his gaze back on you.

“You must always look for the greater good.”

***

You still remembered the day you first met Hyunjin.

He was 13, and you were just a little younger. Your families were good comrades and allies, so your eventual meeting had already been planned.

The two of you were in the living room with everyone else as they talked to each other, mingling and chattering like adults usually did. Hyunjin and you made an unanimous decision to sneak out to the rooftop, and get to know each other better.

“So...our parents are allies now, hm? This means we’re going to see each other a lot more.”

“Of course we are! We’re both prodigies, like my dad and your mom...we inherited their powers, so they’re obviously going to want to cultivate those.”

“You speak pretty fancy for a 12 year old.”

“Hey, so do you! Besides, we’re gifted, aren’t we?”

“Hm.” He sighed, swinging his legs and inhaling. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up again.

“Do you actually like having these powers?”

“Oh? Well, yeah...I do...my father tells me stories of his days as a superhero. I want to help people, just like him.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d much rather live a normal life. Get a normal job, find someone to love, and have a normal marriage in a normal town.”

You pressed your lips together. “To each their own, I guess. Personally, I just want to get rid of all the evil in the world and make my father proud.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Evil…” He tapped his chin. “How does one even know the difference between good and evil?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? I’m pretty sure it would be obvious in every situation.”

“I disagree. The distinction is blurry. No one knows for sure, and definitely not at first glance.” He sighed. “I would know.”

You brought your knees to your chest as you observed the city below. “Well, I guess you’re right…” you paused, your heart feeling a little heavy for some reason.

“Do you know?”

“The line between good and evil is thin, Y/n. I can’t say I know for sure. But do you know what will always help you remember?”

“What?”

“Your heart.” He said softly, glancing at you and offering you a small smile.

“Just do whatever feels right...trust yourself.”

***

You sighed and shut your laptop.

Home. You needed to go home, cause your heart ached too much. You definitely weren’t ready to go back to work yet. You hadn’t done anything productive today really, just drink coffee and reflect on your actions. Regretting....regretting it all.

It’d been wrong. The wrong choice, the wrong decision.

You knew that, now. There could have been another way. You shouldn’t have rushed into it like that...how could you?

You felt a surge of hatred towards yourself engulf you. It was all your fault, this pain you were feeling. You didn’t have anyone to direct this immense anger towards except yourself. You realized this little fact in horror, your heart clenching as you wished things could have been different.

Finishing off your coffee, you placed a few bills on the table as you left the café, heading home. Ready to burrow under the blankets again, wallow in your self pity and pain. There wasn’t much else to do except succumb to acceptance.

You made your way down the street, humming the saddest song you knew under your breath.

All of a sudden, you felt eyes burning into your back. Your own eyes widening slightly, you turned around quickly-

But there was no one there.

Weird. Sighing, you decided to go back to going over your plans for tonight in your mind.

Maybe watch a movie in hopes of triggering some sort of emotion in you...or maybe take a bath, light some candles and listen to depressing music- shit.

It happened again. Someone was following you- you could feel it. Uncomfortable, your breathing slowly started getting heavier as you tried to formulate some kind of plan in your head-

The next thing that happened was so sudden you barely registered it for a second.

Your hand was gripped, so tightly you felt it would bruise. Aggressive, shocking and swift as lightning- it took several seconds before you realized someone was trying to kidnap you.

“Stop! Leave me alone!”

Struggling against the person holding you, you caught a glimpse of the masked man and decided to scream, hoping to gain some attention from somebody, anybody. There was no way this was happening, not right now. Your day had already been bad enough, why was the universe so intent on rubbing salt in your wounds?!

The urge to fight had never been stronger. Yet there was no strength left in your body. You couldn’t fight back against this man- he was taller than you and somehow even matched you in strength. Unless you exposed your powers, there was no way you would get yourself out of this predicament. Somehow you managed to smack him with your arm weakly, making him hiss.

“Let me go, please!”

The coffee cup fell out of your hand, brown liquid spilling all over the ground as you were pulled into the dark alley so quickly, no one would notice. Your eyes darted about in panic, trying to work out a possible escape route when the masked man caged you in, his arms on either side of you.

A horrible sense of déjà vu enveloped you. It’s all you can do to not scream, trying to keep yourself calm so that you could escape.

It’s ok, breathe in...and concentrate.

The heat within you started to crackle, your palms beginning to burn up gradually.

Your eyes blinked as you decided to try and take a good look at the person holding you. Their head was covered with a black mask, their finger held over their mouth as they ran their eyes over your distressed expression.

Inhale. Exhale.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hissed, staying still and pretending to give up the struggle. “Unhand me now, or you’ll regret it, trust me-“

“Shh! Y/n, please…” He shushed you, his voice shaky.

You stopped in your tracks.

Huh?

That voice…

“I’ll explain... but first we need to get out of here, fuck-” He looked from side to side quickly, scanning his surroundings.

Shit. Why does that voice sound so familiar?

“Who- who are you?!” You managed to get out, the heat fading away as deep, panicked confusion took over you instead.

There was a small sigh as your assailant stood up a little straighter, groaning. And then, his fingers deftly pulled the mask off, clutching it in his hands tightly.

Golden locks spilled out, a handsome visage coming into view. Plump lips and beautiful eyes, looking oh so familiar.

No.

It couldn’t be. This wasn’t happening. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the actual fuck was going on?

It’s him.

But it can’t be.

How? It’s not possible-

You’re definitely losing your mind.

The man’s breathing got quicker as he watched your expression morph from fear into one of pure, electric shock.

“I know you’re shocked, Y/n, but please listen to-“

Your chest started heaving, quickly rising and falling as your heart pounded against your rib cage.

This...could not be happening. What was this? Was this a nightmare? Yet another sick, twisted dream? He couldn’t be standing right in front of you...it was impossible. No. No no no no no no no.

It was all too overwhelming, and your brain and body seemed to agree on that. Your mind swam, your thoughts all over the place as you felt yourself sway on your feet.

“This- I-“ You stumbled over your words, tears slipping past quickly as you tried to form words to express what you felt.

Pain. Searing pain, taking over, spreading from head to toe.

Your breathing slowed as the world suddenly went black, Hyunjin’s shouts in the background fading away...until there was nothing but silence.

Pure, unadulterated silence.

#hyunjin smut #hyunjin angst #skz smut #skz angst #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #stray kids angst #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines

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herstarburststories · 4 years

Text

tolerate it

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: your love for Dean used to be celebrated, but now he tolerates it.

A/N: here it is, hunters! First fic of the year, wow! I hope you guys like it! Based on Taylor's song tolerate it. Also requested by @ashleyygeza!

Warnings: so much angst, language, smut

There was this thing you always liked to do. It was mostly the learned behavior of a child that grew up in motel rooms. It was usual for the adult that called a bunker her home, too. You’d lay on your back, staring at the light on the ceiling and squint your eyes to the point the glimmering white light could be mistaken as the moon. You never thought you’d end up doing that to people as well.

It used to be something so sensual and sequin back then, but now the fact that he's so much older and wiser only makes you quiet. You see his bruised hands and worried glances; the stubble on his face growing as his sense of self starts to fade with borrowed time. Dean used to love you in screaming colors; now he just sits in silence reading with his head low, researching the next case under the dim light while you watch him. Sam can't seem to stand slow deaths either -- he just clears his throat and leaves the bunker with the empty excuse of a supply run.

Still, you remain here. You stand still like a good ornament in Dean's collection of lovers. It seems like it's a matter of time until he leaves you too. Yet, you’re sitting and watching him, and you can't help but wonder if you aren't just another wrinkle on his face. You’d been a memory of something worth dying for, once, but now you were starting to believe you were just another battle scar; marred skin that had spent so long settling that he didn’t even notice the scarification anymore.

Hours pass as quickly and emotionally draining as dry heaving. His huffs of annoyance and thirsty fingers of whiskey were difficult to ignore. The eldest Winchester doesn’t dare to approach you; to throw those dust-collecting books away and make love to you with dumbfounded grins and breathless groans like he had done so many times before. That was when you were a complete person and not just the husk of a lover destroyed. Once you held the strength of Jeanne d'Arc, now you sit and wait for a man to love you back. You’d be disgusted by your weakness if you had any pity left to spare.

If you look at someone too much you can confuse it with love. And if you already love someone and keep looking, you might waste all the rose-colored visions love could create. Maybe that's what happened to Dean. It’s a treacherous game, and it seems like he’s winning. Perhaps it’s your fault, your snide mind speculates against your will. You should try harder.

You don’t miss Dean’s hidden sigh of relief when the door makes a noise, announcing Sam’s return. How could you? You notice everything he does or doesn't do. At first, you fantasized that, even if it started getting messy before, he was pushing you away because of the whole fighting God problem, now you aren’t so sure. The clues were all over the place when Chuck was gone. Dean smiled at Sammy as if there was no tomorrow and said we’re finally free without sparing a glance at you. When they-- when he started building other worlds, where were you? That long-fraught, battle-ridden past of the Winchesters might be gone, but the more you try to turn the page, the more they stick to each other.

‘’Sammy,” his gruff voice says. It is the first word in hours that wasn’t half-hearted mumbles agreeing with your occasional comments or the tuneful hum of a classic rock song between reading and drinking. ‘’Did you bring any bacon?’’

‘’Yeah, but they need cooking--’’ Sam interrupts his brother, already familiar with this conversation. Dean’s half-open mouth and wiggling brows meant one thing. He was such a kid sometimes. ‘’And no. I’m not frying this cardiac embolism waiting to happen for you, dude.’’

You get up, aiming a smile at the long-haired hunter. ‘’Don’t worry, I can cook it. I was gonna make some pasta anyway.’’

Sam slightly nods before tilting his head towards you. ‘’You sure?’’

‘’Yeah. My butt’s already sore from the research. Those chairs aren’t that comfortable.’’ You scrunched up your nose with a good-humored grimace.

‘’Okay, thanks.’’ You nod, throwing a last glance at Dean, who barely moved since you got in the conversation. You turn around, walking to the kitchen when Sam’s voice reverberated through. Deciding to overhear against all your sense of privacy, like a schoolgirl in the bathroom, you lean against the wall. You can’t believe the point you got to at those moments, but the answer to the question Sam asks may be the solution for your personal tophet. ‘’What’s up with you?’’

Dean doesn’t seem phased by his brother’s prodding. ‘’What do you mean?’’

Sam arches his eyebrows. ‘’No butt jokes?’’

At least you aren’t going crazy here. Even Sammy noticed something peculiar about Dean and you. There had to be an explanation or reason.; something broken that you could fix.

‘’I’m a grown-ass man, Sam.’’ He scoffs as you heard the chair being pushed. You nibble on your bottom lip, catching your breath as they continue.

‘’Yeah, sure,” the younger man snaps sarcastically. Dean rolls his eyes. ‘’Actually researching when I leave you two alone? Come on, Dean. Did you guys argue or something?’’

‘’We are just fine.’’ His boots scuffing against the wood floor makes a well-known melody, just like Sam’s loud sigh. You know him; he thinks this his brother’s way to avoid the subject and run away. You can’t say you don’t agree with that.

‘’Dean…’’

“I’m gonna take a shower. I spent two hours reading. I gotta get ready for my bacon.’’ It is a simple answer that made your heart spin like a girl in a brand new dress. You had the sudden realization that at least he spent those hours with you, right? Deadly in his quietude, but he was there. Women always are excellent at convincing themselves that crumbs are a whole meal. Therefore, convince yourself this is enough.

You hear the creaking under his strong, heavy steps as he leaves, and a couple more from Sam as well. Ultimately, you turn around, clapping your hands together as you glare at the food still waiting to be made. You give yourself a comforting smile as you speak: ‘’Time to get to work.’’

Then you go. You pace around the kitchen, preparing the lunch with everything you have. Make it perfect, make it delicious. Fuck, even make it deluxe with pre-made bacon and vegan pasta on a Tuesday afternoon. It’s so silly how you make such a lavish effort with the smallest things only to maybe catch a glimpse of his attention. As if Dean would see, truly look at you again. You gave him the best you had, and when you ran out of that, you gave him what was left too.

The pasta is smelling good. You two used to be each other's better halves, but since the coin had been tossed, you are now each other’s worst reflections. He’s your coldness; the gelid nature that was so useful as a weapon to hurt those who came before him. The ignorance, the lack of care for the ones who claimed to cherish you with their ripped out chests and open hands. You can see you in the way he moved, told white lies and walked away. All the most brutal aspects that your soul built through the years. You almost burn your hand, but at least it isn’t his bacon. And in you, you hold all Dean hated in himself lately. The clingy behavior, always urging to serve and make someone else happy. So needy for a gentle touch, one single proof that his lurking was wrong and he was worthy, that he could be loved someday if he just tried hard enough. Desperate in earge for aprovation, just like you grabbing the Men Of Letters’ sumptuous tapestry and the elegant candle holder, laying the table with the fancy shit.

‘’Wow.’’ Sam says once he arrives in the dining room. Dean refrains his reaction to arching his eyebrows in an unspoken question: what the fuck is happening there?

‘’Is the queen visiting us or somethin’?’’ You catch the pissed off glare that Sammy gives him, yet the older Winchester just shrugs. His little brother had the same eyes as him in many aspects, he had to agree that all those snobby objects were too much.

Unbothered, too used to his butch nature, you chortle. ‘’I just thought we deserved some nice things tonight.’’

Dean hums before adding: ‘’As long as there’s bacon.’’

Sam praises how good the sauce you made tastes. Of course, Dean just nods and agrees with a grumble, not even taking a second glance at you. He doesn’t notice that you are watching him, neither does he compliment your cooking. You never get the reaction you expect from him. Not a thank you, or a true smile, or even a drop of love in the saliva of his kiss, but you keep trying. Just like he tried to make daddy proud for so long. You both should know that's not how it works, but who can argue with a broken child mosaic in an adult damaged heart?

The green eyed man purposely sets the scene in a manner that his brother would be between the two of you. And yes, you manage to double cross this signal and sit down on another chair by his side. Although, when your elbows accidently meet during the homemade feast, Dean doesn’t look at you with the lopsided grin that you love so much. He doesn’t lean in to steal a kiss. Instead, he moves to the side discreetly. You were the roots of hope once, the one who could grow inside him and wrap around his organs for some relief of the hematoma and blood. The Winchester held the arm that pulled you closer and made sure you would stay. But he no longer touches you and the plants died of thirst and you are still here. In these moments, your trick mind asks: why are you still here? You can’t answer.

The lunch goes by filled with your and Sam’s chatter, Dean’s loud chewing and Miracle’s ocasional barks until there’s no food or reasoning to postpone staying together. All the three of you raise up, adamantly ignoring the strange atmosphere.

‘’We’re leaving in an hour.’’ It’s all Dean says before leaving the room. Sammy dares to squeeze your shoulder softly before following his older brother’s path. With a suspire, you collect all the plates and lead to the kitchen again, starting to put the 60 minutes to good use. Polish plates until they gleam and glisten, maybe Dean will sneak in and wrap his arms around you, press a kiss to your neck and tell you to go to bed, that he will take care of the dishes. He used to do that. This was then and this is now. It’s easy to get lost in the tangles of time.

Of course he doesn’t. Though the hunter shows up with a bag and shouts from the living room for you to hurry up, so you do. Sleeping in the backseat of Baby through the streets of the United States, you wake up with Sam gently shaking your shoulder. Dean is already inside the restaurant. You try not to think too much about it, he could’ve been needing to hit the bathroom or something. As you and the youngest Winchester enter the establishment, four trained eyes fall on your boyfriend and the waitress, who’s clearly leaning forward to make her cleavage more evident. You two pace towards the table just in time to hear the end of their conversation.

‘’Call me if you need anything.’’ The name tag says that the brunette is called Andressa. She's tall, tan and beautiful, smiling in a way that you never can never conquer. You miss having that confidence, how you’d walk in a room and be sure people would stop and stare. Remember when you used to be like that?

‘’Betcha.’’ He gives her a lopsided grin, the one that used to be directed to you. Andressa winks at him and leaves, swapping her hips in the most seductive way, which catches Dean's eyes like it's the whole Aurora Boreal and not just a woman's ass.

‘’Nice shirt, yeah?’’ You take his indiscretions all in good fun. Dean, though, takes a deep breath and wipes his face, as if he's the one with the right to be annoyed in this situation. It's so stupid how you keep making yourself smaller to fit in whatever expection is comfortable for him. At some point you'll disappear-- but hey, no body no crime. You attempted to explain yourself, ‘’I was just kidding.’’

He tightens his mouth into a thin line. ‘’I know.’’

‘’I saw one on Shein.’’

‘’Come on, Y/N.’’ The green eyed hunter scoffed. ‘’That’s like, Belladonna’s boobs sort of thing.’’

It’s so stupid how his opinons can change your whole weekend, as if your emotions were some sort of board game that Dean played by his own rules. You hang your head low, playing with the menu. You can ‘’Yeah, you’re right. It was dumb.’’

‘’That’s not what I---’’ He stopped himself with a deep inhale. Why did it seem easier for him to criticize than compliment you? You are using your best colors for his portrait of stares, yet all you gain are vacant side eyes. That man killed for you, and now every second by your side seemed to be murdering him. ‘’You’d look good on it.’’

You decide not to go on the next hunt, give both of you a break from the grey skies that always seem to suppress you and Dean. What if you two just need time apart? You live together, work together, and even have the same group of friends. Putting the whole monsters and multiple deaths aside, it was pretty much like a normal relationship. You must just need some time alone to miss each other. So you start going on less and less hunts. God, past you’d hate that scared little girl act, begging to be seen like a shiny toy.

Your cell phone buzzes, causing a smile besides the burning anticipation building up in your veins, crawling under your skin like a million little stars, or bugs. It depends on how you choose the perspective, no surprise you’d go for the romantic one. Well, it's a text from Dean. Plaid and crude: getting home in ten minutes. Why’d you be unpleasantly anxious about that? He’s your boyfriend and he’s coming home after a week! Your fingers dance around the keyboard before answering a sweet waiting for you, with a couple hearts in the byline.

You get his favorite burger and a whiskey older than you in the Deancave, which is settled up with a three hours marathon of Scooby-Doo. It was always so adorable when Dean and you made bets to see who’d guess the episode villain first. Even his hot dog pants and his robe are on the armchair. As for you, you are waiting by the door like you’re just a kid, in a vat to greet him with a battle’s hero welcome. One, two, three, minutes piling up as uncountable as the hidden tears that you cry each week in after the city’s asleep. Let’s be fair, you should’ve seen this coming from a mile away. What was the last time Dean accomplished something he promised to you? He doesn’t even reply to your text message asking if he was okay. Minutes trapped into hours, and you’re sitting with your back to the wall, right next to the door he should have burst out long ago. Time’s ticking, your mind is so tired and your body is sore; it’s exhausting to love someone like this, so you take a rest when sleep wins your hopeful, unclever thoughts.

Dean arrives one hour later, an oral scarlet letter on his tongue that tastes like beer and unregrettable priorities, an apologist expression accompanied of a very grumpy-ish Sam as the door is pushed open. The short haired hunter purses his plump lips at the sad sight; you sleeping on the floor next to the door, probably waiting for him. Maybe he should've answered your text earlier and not just rolled his eyes and ordered another drink. What a suburban mistake for a Winchester.

Dean doesn't turn around to face Sammy; his brother made his opinion on that matter very clear during their roadtrip. Instead, his aching body just leans in and picks you up bridal style — that would've made him smile in the gentlest way his blood-stained mouth and sharp teeth could, eye dipping with joy and a silent promise for the future, but now that only gets a stoic expression as he walks towards your shared room.

He dares to sigh. There you go, taking too much space and time. This might be a deceiving concept dappled with melancholic nostalgia, but to take space and time wasn’t a trouble before. Dean once worshiped the light-hearted emotion you could bring out his inner little monster - or his soul, whatever you wanna name it. The time wrapped around your finger as he was, and things were just good. Raw good. Yet, now he sees it; time’s always running, and so is him. It’s no surprise the heart he was holding fell and was left behind at some point of the race.

The hunter bumps on the door with his shoulder, leading inside the bedroom and placing you on the mattress. Your body can’t help but to cling to him as you mumble in your sleep; maybe it’s your fond memory, used to Dean’s body seeking some human contact only in the middle night.

Clicking his tongue, he pulls away. The movement is docile, just enough to wake you up. Dean can’t help but to groan at this.

‘’You came back.’’ You murmur, while Dean adjusts on the spot next to you in bed.

Arching his eyebrows with some comedic background, he answers: ‘’Of course I did. I live here.’’

Live. You wouldn’t call what he does living. More like a ghost hunting his old house when you are around. Or maybe you were the ghost and sure, most people would run away from it, but Dean always goes looking for the supernatural beings anyway. Unnerving that he’d make someone he loved out of one.

‘’Why didn’t you pick up the phone? I was worried.’’

He shrugs and kisses your hand. ‘’Was busy.’’

It’s a poor excuse, but those are all that have been holding you two together lately.

Here it is. Your inner anger for being treated wrong, the mad woman inside you scratching to come back. He has been treating you like a coat in Texas’ summer, like a stained flannel, like a forgotten feeling. You deserve more than this. You are so much more than this. Who he thinks he is?

But he has those green eyes that cried single man tears, and he’s so close you can feel his breath on your cheek. And you love that man so.

Instead, you smile and reach out for his hand. ‘’I missed you.’’

Dean doesn’t answer. He restricts any emotion to a grin, and suddenly you are under him. He pushes his lips against yours in a desperate act of recovery, to gain back what he somehow lost through the way. The green eyed man might not find his love in you, but there’s something else he can work with; luxury. Love was always harder to spell than lust anyway. To you, the way he howls against your lips is love. To him, it’s the confirmation of the absence of it. But he can’t let go.

Your hands and his, still together coaxing each other into giving in. It’s so easy that way. Dean rushes to rip your t-shirt, gaining a laugh out of your and a kiss to his jaw. He’s out of his pants before you can even pull away to assist him. The male catches your earlobe, kissing that sweet spot to make you whimper his name.

‘’Dean.’’

Your wince, his shirt is tossed away, just like your skirt. You aren’t wearing a bra, and quickly your cherry panties are pulled apart with a simple move of his finger.

‘’Gonna make you feel so good, babe.’’ His index finger is shoved inside your tight cunt. You throw your head to the back, spreading your legs open. You want to beg him to make you feel anything good, for him to be the reason of the holy and not hollow, just this once. ‘’You are so wet--’’ Another finger, they move inside of you in an attempt to find the right spot. ‘’So fucking tight for me. I’ve fucked you so many times and you’re still so tight.’’ Dean’s thumb caressed your clit as he licked his lips, relishing how you squirm and whine his name. What a good girl. ‘’Can’t wait to fuck you.’’

It doesn’t take much longer. The eldest Winchester quickly replaced his skilled fingers with his pulsating cock. His member begged to be inside you, squeezed by those warm and tight walls. Your pussy was always so good for him, taking him so nice. Dean moans at the sensation, his hand losing yours to hold the bedpost, his thrusting wildly against yours.

No more praising words, no more foreplay. He comes to get what he wants and you’re willing to give. He used to touch you like a priceless wine, now his hands are hustled and careless like you are just another bottle of cheap beer. Dean fucks himself into you and you can’t do anything but groan in pleasure. Sometimes the hurting can be delicious, too.

You crave more, though. Your hands, tiny compared to his, meet Dean’s back, nails digging into the bare skin in a reminder I’m here, you’re still mine. Your legs wrapped around his torso, which only caused his moves to go faster and more ferocious, destroying your needy cunt for any other. It feels so good to have him inside you, fucking you up to the point you are an inchorent ball of cum and sweat. He’s gonna get you there, it’s certain, Dean always does.

His thumb comes back to your vagina, digital press to your clit as he attacks your neck. You try to move your head and get those plump lips against yours, but he sounds like an animal, increasing his rhymin and sucking your tender skin.

Everything is so hurried and irrational and not intimate. He comes inside of you after your own release, marking you up with his orgasm. As soon as he’s dones, he crawls out of you and lays on his back. Sure, you come around and rest your weary head on his chest, but that’s what it is. Deep silence. Not the one where love or magic or whatever Aphrodite is made of fills the void and makes the lovers comfortable. No, this one is visceral, like a chuckle empty of joy. It’s like the tie of gold that tried you two were tangled and ripped. Your love should be celebrated, but he tolerates it. He tolerates everything you do. He tolerates your presence.

The wrath sneaks in smoothly and astute. You aren’t just one night stand or a sweetheart. How can Dean act like you are? You lift your head and watch him breathing with his eyes closed. It’s so brutal, emotionally violent how you are aware that he’s only doing that not to have pillow talk. Where’s that man who’d throw blankets over your barbed wire? Easily misplaced by the one who threw your boundaries away and out the trap there nowadays. You made him your temple, you mural, your sky, now you’re begging for footnotes in the story of his life.

In the rare cracks of lucidity, you picture what would happen if you did what your old, better self would do. Dean appears to assume you are fine, but what would he do if you break free and leave you two in ruins, took this dagger in you and removed it, gain the weight of you then lose it? He was so comfortable with you. Maybe he didn’t think you would ever do that, but there’s just so much a woman with your determination and cleaverity can take. Believe, I could do it. You did it before with others. Sometimes you need to leave to breathe. Perhaps it's time.

But then, he embraces you. Just like that, all your doubts and fears and bruises caused by his kisses are reduced to paranoia. You decide maybe you got it wrong somehow. Not even blinking at the thought that Dean enjoys cuddles. No, he’s pulling you closer and snucking his nose into your hair because he loves you. Convince yourself. You are majestic with lies, it gets surprisingly facile to tell them when you nuzzle into the Winchester’s neck like his smell is some sort of placebo.

You aren't tiptoeing around it, or even stepping on the doubts with tiny hoaxes. You are barefoot on his love-- but his love feels a lot like walking through a street of fire and thorns. But hey, isn't that the point of devotion? To put something, someone first? To go through any suffering and starve to get to the prize, to walk through the golden gates? If this was a church, the priest would tell you to get on your knees and pray harder. You can see where he’s going. You’ll do better. Be everything Dean needs. You can be worthy-- you are worthy. You were his everything once and you can be that again. Pick up the soul tapestry he shrewd so unintentionally and patch it up. Most of those things must be in your head anyway, and if they aren't… Well. He will love you that deeply again, right? Right? It’s an echo. Right.

Tomorrow you’ll try again. In the name of love, condepedency, or whatever it is. Sit and watch him.

Comment & reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my masterlist ♡ Tags in reblog!

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester smut #supernatural #spn #supernatural imagines #spn reader insert #dean winchester x you #dean winchester imagines #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester headcanon

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macbookpro-hard-drive · 4 years

Text

promise [connor m. x reader] pt.2

because i think this is a fitting end to this story. actual notes at the very end of this post, after the fic.

warnings: general swearing. this is a part 2 to a fic on @pacman-tattoo though.

12:23 AM connie: you still awake?

12:26 AM connie: babe.

12:35 AM connie: i’ll be home soon, ok?

12:36 AM connie: traffic is weirdly fucking awful rn and i wish you were here

12:37 AM [y/n]: sorry, i’m here. i was almost asleep.

12:38 AM connie: sorry

12:39 AM [y/n]: make it up to me <3

12:39 AM connie: i will

With a quiet hum, you left your phone back on the nightstand where it had been charging up until the vibrations against wood had pulled you out of your state of near-slumber. Connor rarely worked late, but sometimes he was roped into cleaning more than just the bar itself. It was temporary, he told you over and over. Eventually, he’d get his stupid book of stupid poetry (his words, never yours) and maybe he could go from there. Write more books, make things work, and one day he’d be staying at home and writing poetry while you continued to be the breadwinner once you were out of school for good (your words, occasionally his). Sure, working in an office when you weren’t swamped with classes and making pretty okay money in the meantime hadn’t been your plan originally, but... things happen. Life changed. Connor was a constant for you, though. True to the promise he made to you almost six years ago at eighteen, he never disappeared again. Not the way that he had used to. Sure, there were fights, and he would leave you alone in the living room while he shut himself up in the bedroom and dealt with the flow of emotions that rammed through him, but things worked out. On the worst nights, he’d come back out to find you asleep on the couch, and he’d end up waking you up and the two of you would fix things. He opened up to you, slowly and surely, and things worked. It was hard, certainly, but... the two of you made it work.

And now you were lying in bed in the little apartment that you shared, waiting for him to come home from bartending (Connor Murphy, working in customer service? You never could fully believe it, but he managed) and to climb into bed next to you, and maybe the two of you would talk until you fell asleep.

The sound of jingling keys from the living room caught your attention almost half an hour later, followed by the slamming of a door, and then heavy footsteps. Before you could call out to him, Connor came in through the door, fighting his way out of his shoes, his jacket, his jeans, and soon enough he threw himself directly into the space next to you. For a moment, he was hardened by whatever bullshit he’d faced during the day, but one look at you was enough to soften his gaze.

You sat up, reaching out to brush his hair from his face. “Long day?”

“The fucking worst.”

Despite the aggravation in his voice, you chuckled. “You wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head, hopping back up. “It’s stupid shit,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.” But he paused before he could move away, dipping forward to press a kiss against your lips. “It’s fine,” he said again. “I promise.”

As he walked away, you merely watched as he began to strip out of his clothing before changing into a faded band t-shirt that often was used by one of you as a sleeping shirt. You admired him for a moment. Six years ago, he was... thinner. Bonier. Ever since things had shifted between the two of you, he’d put on a bit of weight (enough to become less of a bean-pole and more... okay) and he generally seemed brighter, if you were honest. Maybe that was what getting out the Murphy house did for him. He’d cut his hair, although it still stayed long enough to hang in his face if he wasn’t careful. As much as you missed the long locks, you were happy. He’d begun taking care of himself. He had his off days, and you knew that, but he seemed to genuinely be trying for you, and he was trying for himself, too.

“You like the show?”

You couldn’t help but snort. “Maybe I do,” you reached toward him, doing grabby hands. “C’mere,” you whined quietly. “I wanna cuddle.”

He scoffed at the notion, but climbed into bed next to you a moment later nonetheless. Instead of folded into your arms, he pulled you closer, wrapping himself securely around you, cocooning you in his warmth. The faint smell of his cologne still stuck to him, and you happily buried your face in his neck before pressing a soft kiss against his skin.

“Sometimes,” his voice vibrated in his chest, and although you went to move, he kept his hold on you. So you relaxed into him, and he continued, “I think about when we got together.”

“Mmhm?”

“I was dealing with a lot,” he said, lowering his voice. “Fuck, you know how many problems I had, and...” He paused for a moment, nuzzling his face into your hair just for a second. “And I’m glad I got help.” He corrected himself barely a second later, “I’m getting help.” When you didn’t respond, he continued on, “I’m glad it’s working.”

“I am, too,” you admitted against his skin, and he hummed in acknowledgement. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He ran a hand up and down your back, and the motion soothed you slightly. “I was scared I was depending on you entirely,” he shut his eyes. “I thought that if you weren’t here, I couldn’t be happy. But... I got better,” he said. “I’m better. I have... friends,” he said after a moment of hesitation. “I’m writing. I’m not fucking paranoid all the time. But...” He drew away from you, hands reaching up to cup your face, smushing your face slightly. “I do have you. I’m glad you stayed.”

“Someone’s sappy tonight,” you pulled a hand away. “I’m glad you stayed, too.”

“Sometimes I think I don’t deserve you,” he said, and the air grew tense for a moment. He... wasn’t being sappy, he was being honest. “But, I think... I think now I’ve learned that even with my bullshit, I... I think I deserve good things, sometimes.”

“You do,” you reached up to trail a thumb along the apple of his cheek. “Just because you fucked up and got angry at people and dealt with a lot doesn’t mean you’re not worth loving.”

He chuckled, and he said your name gently. “No wonder you’re trying to become a therapist.”

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his own for a moment. “I wanna help people,” you said. “I wanna help teenagers like you who needed it. I didn’t give up on you then, and I don’t want to give up on my future patients.”

“Even if you’re not what they need?”

“Especially if I’m not what they need,” you said. “I’ll find them someone else. Just because I can’t help them wouldn’t mean that I can’t help them find someone who can.”

There was softness in his eyes as he kissed you gently. No more scent of cigarettes and the taste of smoke (he’d given that up long ago, just so he could have longer with you), but he still held the same warmth he did the first time you kissed. “I love you.”

So you settled into his arms after giving him one last kiss. “I love you, too, Connor.”

So... I’d like to take a moment to talk, since, uh, it feels right to.

I started writing musical reader inserts back in 2017, shortly after my 17th birthday, and the first one I wrote was a Connor Murphy fic titled “Promise.” Which... is why I feel that this is a fitting ending for my writing. I don’t remember the last fic I wrote for this blog, but I never felt completely satisfied in saying “I’m done writing reader fics for musicals” since... nothing felt like an ending.

Of course, I’ll still sorta be lingering around this blog if anyone wants to DM me or send in an ask, but I’m not gonna write anymore. I sorta stopped once I got to college since I didn’t exactly have the time to do it as often anymore (and I sorta lost interest in writing for musicals, actually, since I do write elsewhere sometimes), but... that’s beside the point.

A... lot has happened since I posted that first fic. I dated someone for the first time, ended things with them, and then I fucked up majorly with some things that happened afterward. I’m still atoning for it, and maybe I never will fully do so, but it’s one of my deepest regrets. Of course, I’ve... learned I’m not the only person at fault in the situation (more like I was manipulated, but I’m not going to deny my own part there), but I think coming to the realization that I wasn’t alone there... helped. I lost a few friends, and I kept everyone else for the most part. For a really, really long time, I always wondered why. I had fucked up so majorly, I couldn’t comprehend why my friends stayed with me.

And... It’s because we love each other. I fucked up, sure, but... they knew who I was as a person. These people didn’t abandon me because they saw me for who I am. I explained what happened, I showed anger and frustration and melancholy for everything that I (and the other person at fault) had done, and... they weren’t going to cast me out in my hour of need. I had made the group chat we all met in, and I tried to take an interest in everyone as best as I could. I became a different person when I was with my ex, and... and I never want to be that person ever again. I was petty, and spiteful, and when I look at who I became, I realize that I’d been changed for the worst. I like to think I’ve gotten better, and maybe that’s because of the stupid fucking trauma making me realize my place.

But... I love my friends. I love them so, so much. I don’t think I’d still be here if it weren’t for them. It’s been a pretty wild ride, and I’ve written so much for these fandoms (although admittedly not in recent years) but... I’m proud of what I have done. I love writing so, so much, and it’s always going to be a part of who I am, no matter what route I end up taking. While I can look back on some of my writing and laugh because it’s cringe-y and clumsy and I’ve definitely improved, it’s still something I did.

Even if this post doesn’t get a single note, I’m... still proud of what I’ve done and how far I’ve come, and I thank anyone reading this for coming with me on this journey. Please, take care of yourselves. Be kind. It’s okay to have bad days: even flowers need a little rain to grow.

But most importantly: love yourself and love the people that want you to be better.

Thanks, gamers. Feel free to hit me up anytime.

~ Minerva “Minni” @mango-juiiice

#mj's writing corner #dear evan hansen x reader #deh x reader #dear evan hansen imagine #dear evan hansen reader insert #Connor Murphy x Reader #connor murphy imagine #connor murphy reader insert

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c-is-for-circinate · 3 years

Note

I'd love to hear more of your thoughts about why P5R didn't quite land for you. I had the same reaction to it, but I've never quite been able to properly articulate why the last section fell so flat.

God okay so I've tried several times to answer this, and it seems like the answer is 'I still have way too many feelings, personally, to say this in anything less than thirty pages and fifteen hours of work', because Persona 5 the original is a game I loved a lot and care about a great deal. And most of the reasons I disliked Royal feel, in my head, like a list of ways it broke some of the things I liked best about P5--which means explaining them feels like I need to explain everything I loved about the original game, which is a book in itself, complete with referents to P3, P4, Jungian psychology, the Joseph Campbell mytharc, and fuck all even knows what. And that is too much.

But today I realized that I could instead describe it from an angle of, Persona 5 Strikers succeeds really well at doing the thing I think Royal was trying to do but failed at. And that I think I can talk about in a reasonable amount of wordspace, hopefully, behind this cut because I have at least one friend who hasn't played Royal yet.

Note for reblogs/comments: I HAVE NOT FINISHED STRIKERS YET. I got through the jail that pretended to be the final jail and have not yet gone into the obviously inevitable 'ohshit wait, you mean there's something more than simple human machinations behind all of this?' dungeon. (I got stuck on a really frustrating side quest, put the game down, and then dived into Hades to avoid throwing the Switch across the room for a while--and anyone around this blog lately knows how THAT'S been going.) Please no spoilers past Okinawa!

So, one of the many, many things I really appreciated about Persona 5 was its straightforward and unashamed attitude towards abusers and their acts of violence. Because, while yes P5 is a story about the use of power and control to make others suffer, it fundamentally isn't about those abusers themselves. It's about their victims, those that survive their crimes. And this shows up repeatedly over the course of the game.

We do not give a shit why Kamoshida wanted to beat and rape his students. We really don't. Kamoshida does not deserve our attention one moment longer than it takes to make him stop. Because, ultimately, that's the goal of P5, start to end. We don't know for sure if what we're doing is fair, if it's justice, if it's questionable. What we know is that people are being hurt, badly, actively, right now this second. What we know is that victims are suffering. What we know is that we, personally, us-the-protag and us the Phantom Thieves at large, are in danger. And in those circumstances, we don't care about the abuser's side any more. We don't. We don't have the space or time or capacity to care, because that is not the point.

The point is to help the weak. To save the people who need saving, right here and now. To give others the courage to stand up on their own behalf. We're not even out to change society, not really--that's a byproduct. We are reactions. We are triage. We are important.

There's something so empowering and validating about that as a theme, y'know? In a media landscape so full of "sympathetic villains", the idea that, you know, maybe sometimes you don't have to break yourself to show compassion that might possibly heal the bad guy--that sometimes you can just make the bad guy stop hurting people--feels both refreshing and satisfying. I really appreciate it as a message! I liked it a lot!

And yes, there's nuance to that theme, and the game is not without compassion. We save Futaba, because 'make the bad guy stop hurting people', in that case, means 'make this person stop hurting herself'. We give Sae a path forwards, help her fix her own heart. Yet it's worth pointing out that in both of those cases, while we were very glad to do those things, to save those people, we also went into both of those palaces for extremely practical reasons to begin with. We needed Futaba's help. We needed Sae's help. The fact that we chose to talk Sae into a change of heart rather than simply stealing her treasure, while ultimately a very good thing for her, was absolutely a practical choice predicated on the need for her palace to still exist to save our life. And yes, we wanted to save her, for Makoto's sake--yes, we wanted desperately to save Futaba. But Sae and Futaba let themselves be helped, too, and that doesn't change the overarching themes of the story itself.

Akechi (and to some extent Okumura) would not let himself be helped. Akechi's another interesting nuance to this theme, because of all our villains, we do learn the most about what drove him to the cruelties and crimes he's committed. He's at that intersection of victim and villain, and we want to help him, as a victim--but we also know that stopping him as a villain is more important. We'd like to save him from himself if we could, because we save people from their sources of trauma, it's what we do. We regret being unable to do so. But in the end, what matters to the story is not that Akechi refused to be saved--it's that Shido and Yaldabaoth need to be stopped, for the sakes of everyone else they're hurting now and may continue to hurt in the future.

The thing is, there's space and maybe even a need for a corollary discussion of those places where victim and villain intersect. It's an interesting, pertinent, and related topic. Strikers made an entire video game about it, a really good video game. It's centered in the idea that, yes, these people need to be stopped, and we will make stopping them our priority--but they're not going after us, and that gives us some space to sympathize. Even for Konoe, who specifically targets the Phantom Thieves--compare him to Shido, who actively destroyed the lives of both Joker and Futaba, who ordered Haru's father's death, who's the entire reason the team is still dealing with the trauma of Akechi's everything. Of course the game can be sympathetic to Konoe where it can't with Shido. There's enough distance to do that.

But right--Strikers is a separate game. It's a separate conversation. It's, "last time, we talked about that, so now let's take it one step further." And that's good writing. (It's something Persona has done before, too, also really well! Persona 3 is about terrible, occasionally-suicidal depression and grief. P4 is about how you can still be hurting and need some help and therapy even if things seem ok. Related ideas, but separate conversations that need to be separate in order to be respectful and do justice to either one. P5, as a follow-up to P4, is a conversation about how, ok, changing yourself is great and all, but sometimes the problem is other people so how do you deal with that? Again, still related! Still pertinent! Still alluded to in P4, with Adachi's whole thing--but it wasn't the time or place to base a quarter of the game around it.)

So one of Royal's biggest issues, to me, is that it tries to tack on this whole new angle for discussion onto a game that was originally about something else.

Adding Maruki's palace--adding it at the end, which by narrative laws suggests that it's the true point that everything else should be building up to--suddenly adds in about a hundred new dimensions at once. It wants us to engage with "what in this abuser/manipulator's life led him to act this way?" for basically the first time all game (we'll get to Akechi later). It wants us to engage with, "if the manipulator has a really good reason or good intentions, does that mean we should forgive them?" It requires us to reflect on, "what is the difference between control and cruelty?" It asks, "okay, but if people could be controlled into being happy, would that be okay?" (Which, based on the game so far, is actually a wild out-there hypothetical! Literally not a single thing we've seen in the game suggests that could ever happen. Even the people who think being controlled is safer and easier are miserable under it. Control that's able to lead to actual happiness is completely out of left field in the context of everything we've encountered all game so far.)

That's too much! We don't have time to unpack all that! We only have an eighth of the game left! Not to mention we are also being asked to bring back questions we put to bed much earlier in the game about the morality of our own actions, in a wholely unsatisfying way. Maruki attempts to justify his mass brainwashing because "it's the same as what you're doing", and we know it isn't, but the game didn't need Maruki calling it out in order for us to get that. We already faced that question when we started changing hearts, and again several times throughout the game, and again when we found our targets in Yaldabaoth's cells. The fact that we change hearts does not mean we think "changing hearts is fine and kind and should be done to everyone, actually." Changing hearts has been firmly established in this game as an act of violence, acceptable only because it prevents further systemic violence against innocents that we must prevent. The moral question has never once been about whether it's ok to change the hearts of the innocent, only about how far it's ethical to go against individuals who are actively hurting other people. Saying "you punched that guy to keep him from shooting a child, so punching people is good and I will save the world by punching everyone!" is confusing! and weird! and not actually at all helpful to the question of, how much violence is it acceptable to use to protect others! So presenting the question that way just falls really flat.

(And right, I love Strikers, because Strikers has time to unpack all that. Strikers can give us a main bad guy who wants to control the whole world for everybody's own good, because Strikers has earned that thematic climax. It has given us sympathetic bad guys who started out wanting to control the world to protect themselves and ended up going too far. It's given us Mariko Hyodo, who wanted to control the world to protect other people and went too far. It's given us a long-running thread about police, the desire to serve, and the abuse of power that can lead to. And since we are actively trying to care for the people whose hearts we're changing in Strikers, we can open the door to questions about using changes-of-heart and that level of control to make other people happy. We can even get a satisfying conclusion out of that discussion, because we have space to characterize the difference--Konoe thinks that changing peoples' hearts means confining them, but the Phantom Thieves think it means setting them free. We have seen enough sympathetic villains that we as an audience have had the space to figure out how we feel about that, and to understand the game's perspective of "stop them AND save them, if we can possibly do both." And that message STILL rests firmly on Persona 5's message of "it is Good to do what you have to do to stop an abuser so long as you don't catch innocent people in your crossfire.")

It's worth noting that the general problem of 'asking way too many new questions and then not answering them' also applies to how Royal treats its characters, too. P5 did have unanswered questions left at the end! The biggest one, and we all knew this, was Akechi, and what actually happened to him, and how we should feel about him, and how he felt about us. That was ripe for exploring in our bonus semester, and to Royal's credit they did in fact try to bring it up, but by god did they fuck up doing it.

Akechi's probable death in the boiler room was absolutely the biggest dangling mystery of the game. It was an off-screen apparent death of a key antagonist, so all of the narrative rules we know suggested that he might still be alive and would probably come back if the story went on for long enough. So when Royal brings him back on Christmas Eve, hey, great! Question answered. Except that the situation is immediately too good to be true, and immediately leads to another mystery, which leads to a flat suspicion that something must be wrong. We spend several hours of gameplay getting sly hints that, oooh, maybe he's not really alive after all, before it's finally confirmed by Maruki: yup, he really died, if we end the illusion we'll kill him too. Okay, at least we know now. Akechi is alive right now and he's going to be dead if we do this, and that doesn't make a ton of sense because every other undead person disappeared when the person who wished for them realized they were fake but at this point we'll take it. So we take down Maruki, and okay, Akechi really is dead! Probably! We're fairly sure! Aside from our lingering doubts!

And then we catch a glimpse of maybe-probably-could be him through the train window, and I just want to throw something, because come on.

Look, it is just a fact of storytelling: the more times you make an audience ask 'wait, is this character dead or aren't they?', the less they will care, until three or four reversals later you will be hard pressed to find anybody who gives a shit. Royal does this like four different times, and every iteration comes with even less certainty than the last. By the end, we somehow know even less than we did when we started! Did Akechi survive the boiler room to begin with and Maruki just didn't know? Or was Maruki lying to try and manipulate us further? Or was he actually dead and then his strength of will when Maruki's reality dissolved was enough to let him survive after all? Is that even actually him out the train window?

Where is he going! What is he doing! How did any of this happen! What is going on! We all had these questions about Akechi at the end of the original P5, and the kicker is that Royal pretends like it's going to answer them only to go LOL JK NO. It's frustrating and it's dissatisfying and it annoys me.

The one Akechi question that Royal doesn't even bother to ask, though, let alone leave ambiguous, is how does the protagonist feel about him? The entire emotional weight of the third semester rests on the protagonist caring about Akechi, Sumire, and Maruki. Maruki's the person we're supposed to sympathize with even as we try to stop him. Sumire's the person we're trying to save from herself. And Akechi is our bait--is, we are told, the one thing our protagonist wished for enough to actualize it in this world himself. Akechi's the final lure to accept Maruki's deal. Akechi's survival is meant to be tempting.

For firm Akechi fans, this probably worked out fine--the game wanted to insist that the protagonist cared for Akechi the same way the player did. For those of us who're a little more ambivalent, though (or for the many and valid people who hated him), this is a super sour note. Look, one of the Persona series' strengths is the way it lets players choose to put their time and emotional investment into an array of different characters, so the main story still has weight even if there's a couple you don't care about that much. It has always done this. The one exception, from P3 all the way through P4 to here and now, is Nanako Dojima, and by god she earned that distinction. I have never met a person who played Persona 4 who didn't love Nanako. Nanako is a neglected six-year-old child who is brave and strong enough to take care of herself and all of the housework but who still tries not to cry when her dad abandons her again and lights up like the sun when we spare her even the tiniest bit of time and attention. It is impossible not to care for Nanako. Goro Akechi is not Nanako.

And yet third semester Royal doesn't make sense if your protagonist doesn't feel linked to Akechi. The one question, out of all the brand new questions Royal throws out there, that it decides to answer all by itself--and it's how you as a player and your protagonist ought to feel about an extremely complex and controversial character. What the fuck, Royal. What the fuck.

In conclusion, I'll leave you with this. I played the original Persona 5 in March and April of 2017, as an American, a few months after the 2016 election and into the term of our then president. It felt painfully timely. A quick calendar google early on indicated that the game's 20XX was almost certainly 2016, and the closer our plot got to the in-game November leadup to an election destined to be dominated by a foul and charming man full of corruption and buoyed up by his own cult of personality, the more I wanted to laugh/cry. It felt timely. It felt important. It felt right.

I went through Royal (in LP form on youtube, not having a platform to play it on) in summer of 2020, with a hook full of face masks by my front door and protests about racial tension and local policing that occasionally turned into not-quite-riots close enough to hear at night if I opened the windows of my apartment. The parts of the game that I remembered felt as prescient and meaningful as ever, if not even more so. The new parts felt baffling. Every single evil in the game felt utterly, painfully real, from the opening moments of police brutality to the idea of a country led by a guy who probably would use his secret illegitimate teenage son as a magical assassin if the opportunity presented itself and he thought he could get away with it. Yaldabaoth as the cumulative despair of an entire population who just wanted somebody to take over and make things be okay--yes, yes, god, in summer of 2020? With streets full of people refusing to wear masks and streets full of people desperate for change? Of course. Of course that holy grail of safety should be enticing. Of course it should be terrifying.

And then Maruki. Maruki, who was just so far outside the scope of anything I could relate to the rest of the game or my own life. Because every single other villain in the rest of Persona is real. From the petty pandering principal to the human-trafficking mob boss. The corrupt politicians and the manmade god of cultural desire for stability. And this game was trying to tell me that the very biggest threat of all of them, the thing that was worse than the collective force of all society agreeing to let this happen because succumbing was easier than fighting back--that the very biggest threat of all was that the world could be taken over by some random nobody's misguided attempts to help?

No. Fuck no. I don't buy it. Because god, yes, I have seen the pain and damage done on a tiny and personal and very real level by the tight-fisted control of someone trying to help, it never looked like this. Not some ascended god of a bad therapist. All the threats to the world, and that's the one I'm supposed to take seriously? This one man is more of a threat than the fundamental human willingness to be controlled?

Sorry, but no. Not for me. Not in this game. Not in this real-life cyberpunk dystopian apocalypse.

#c plays persona #driveby meta attack #p5 royal spoilers #p5 strikers spoilers #holy crap I did it #I actually wrote a semicoherent essay of a length I'm willing to put on Tumblr #about my problems with this game #I have been trying on and off for MONTHS #I wanted to like Royal SO BADLY #it makes me SO UPSET #anyway #now back to your regularly scheduled Hades blogging #asked and answered #Anonymous

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angelswatchingover · 4 years

Text

Carry On

Yes, it’s another 15x20 fix it fic because we deserved a conversation between Dean and Cas and they all deserved to live! Enjoy this much better ending and soft epilogue. Read it on AO3

Dean is saying his last goodbye to Sam after being injured on that vampire hunt, but the story doesn't end there. Castiel will always come when Dean is in need.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean is fading quickly. It’s getting harder to keep his head up, there’s a ringing in his ears, and his vision is blurring. This is really it. What a way to go. He didn’t think this would be his last hunt, but he knows that ever since Cas, he’s been distracted and that makes for dangerous conditions even on the easiest of hunts. He thought he was starting to learn to deal with it, too.

It’s been a month since they beat Chuck and he’s only just stopped making excuses to go past Cas’ room in the bunker, standing in the doorway and staring in as if the angel will be there, sitting in his chair reading a book like usual. The hunts have been fewer, which sucks since at least they are a distraction from constantly remembering Cas being brave enough to say, “I love you,” and seeing the look of happiness on his face as that black sludge pulled him away. And he had finally stopped pulling the coat with Cas’ bloody handprint out of his closet each day and just holding it, the last thing that he had left of the angel.

He was going to try to start living, to make Cas’ sacrifice worth it. He was even getting a regular construction job to do between the occasional weekend hunts. And then this. Why the fuck didn’t he duck and grab his machete instead of charging the 400 pound linebacker vamp? He’s definitely wishing he had brought that throwing star right about now.

It doesn’t matter now, though. He can feel that this is it and at least he has had the time to tell Sam how proud of him he is and how much he loves him. Damn, he’s going to miss his baby brother so much! He hopes his heaven memory is the one with Sam and Jack and Cas in the bunker, safe and laughing over pizza and ice cold craft beer. That was the night that he and Cas were the last two awake and before he headed off to bed, he had pulled him into a hug, one that lasted a little longer than usual, the alcohol making him warm and a little uninhibited. He had kissed the crook of Cas’ neck while his face was buried there but thankfully the angel didn’t notice and that moment has lived in his mind since.

If he gets to re-live that night in heaven, well, he thinks maybe it won’t be so bad. But first he needs to make sure Sam will be OK. Damn, he hopes he calls Eileen as soon as he gets out of here and never looks back.

“Hey,” he manages out even though its getting harder to breathe. This is important. “I'm not leaving you. I'm gonna be with you... right here... every day. Every day you're out there and you're li... and you're living and you're fighting, 'cause you... you always keep fighting. You hear me? I'll be there every step. I love you so much. My baby brother. Oh, man. Well, I did not think this would be the day. But it is. It is, and that's... Man... that's okay. I need you to... I need you to promise me. I need you to... to... to tell me... that it's okay. I need you to tell me that it's okay.”

Through big wet tears, Sam struggles out, “You can-“

“Not yet,” comes a gravely and frankly angry voice from behind Sam, a voice he would recognize in the dark: Cas!

Sam’s head turns in shock and he rushes out, “Cas, oh my God, help Dean!”

Then Dean sees Cas, he’s blurry because Dean’s sight is getting fuzzy but he’d recognize that trench coat and those blue eyes full of power and fury anywhere. He brushes past Sam and takes Dean gently by the shoulders.

“Dean, I’m sorry this is going to hurt, but I must get you down to heal you.”

The moment Cas shifts him even the slightest bit, pain rips through him so sharp that he sees stars. “No, no, no, no, no. I can’t, Cas…”

“Trust me, Dean. I’ve got you. Put all of your weight on me.” Cas leans in close so their bodies are touching and Dean doesn’t have to hold himself up. His head falls forward onto Cas’ shoulder and he screams as he is quickly lifted off the rebar and brought to the ground and laid gently on the dirt floor of the barn.

“How are you-“ Dean begins but is cut off by Cas.

“I’ll answer your questions after I heal you.”

Cas cups Dean’s left cheek and he can see the glow and feel the icy cold jolt of grace pulsing into him. But its not like usual where everything heals in an instant. No, Cas has his eyes closed in concentration and is obviously straining to heal him. Dean feels slightly better, it’s actually possible to take a breath now but he knows that he isn’t healed. Everything feels wrong.

“No,” Cas shakes his head, frustrated, “this can’t be. Its not enough!” Cas growls and tries again, this time his hand on Dean’s chest, just over where the rebar would have exited.

“What’s going on?” Sam asks, sounding panicked.

“Its my grace. I don’t… I don’t have enough to heal a wound with this much damage.”

“Since when? You’ve always been able to heal everything before!”

“For a long time now, Sam. My grace has been waning.”

“You can’t let him die! What about Jack?!”

“Jack is how I got here. He is hand’s off but was willing to send me.” Cas looks around, panicked.

Dean knows he doesn’t have much more time and he puts his hand over Cas’, the one still on his chest. “It’s OK, Cas. You did your best. I can go.”

“No! You aren’t dying today, Dean Winchester. You are supposed to live a long life. You have earned it. And I gave everything for you to live.” And there are tears in Cas’ eyes again. He meets Dean’s eyes and freezes and Dean knows that look. A determined Castiel, badass angel, is an unstoppable force.

“Sam, give me a knife.” And of course Sam does immediately, trusting Cas with their lives as usual.

“I need… Dean, please hold on. I’m going to give you what’s left of my grace.”

And before Dean can protest, Cas has drawn the knife across his neck and put his hand over the cut but Dean can see the bright glow of grace piercing through his fingers. It only takes a moment for Cas to collect the stream of grace in his hand and press it into Dean’s chest, directly over his heart. Cas squeezes his eyes shut in concentration as the grace penetrates through Dean’s skin and spreads through his body, nearly instantly healing the wound in his back and insides. It feels like being dunked in an ice bath followed immediately by being wrapped in a toasty warm blanket, the sense of pure comfort and safety is palpable.

He is healed. This isn’t going to be his last day on earth. Holy shit! He’s got more time and he’s about to thank Cas when the angel collapses across his chest as Dean let’s out a grunt and closes his eyes.

Sam rushes over and grabs Dean’s face, “Dean, hey, hey, hey, hey. Are you OK? Look at me!”

“I’m OK, Sammy,” he nearly laughs. “I’m good… I’m good. What hap-”

“Cas… I think he took out his grace to heal you.”

It’s then that it starts to make sense that it feels like there’s a hundred pound weight on his chest. It’s Cas and he isn’t moving. “Help me with him, Sam,” Dean asks and tries to nudge the angel awake but he isn’t budging. Sam checks his pulse and nods to Dean and a wave of relief passes through him as he and Sam work to move Cas to the side. He is still out cold through the whole ordeal.

Dean gets to his feet, a bit wobbly and isn’t even steady yet when he finds his arms full of a crying moose. “Jesus, Dean, I thought that was it. I thought I lost you!”

“Me t- too,” Dean gets out, his voice catching as he realizes how close they came to losing each other. And Dean finds that he can’t stop the tears that are now spilling over. “Maybe I’m getting too old and slow for this job.”

He can feel Sam laugh before he steps back a bit from the hug with his hands still on Dean’s shoulders. “We just took on 5 vampires, and one of them was the size of Gunner Lawless. Trust me, it has nothing to do with age.”

And a laugh bubbles up in Dean too. He can’t believe it. He just escaped death yet again. Maybe it is time to slow down a bit now that he doesn’t have Chuck’s plot armor anymore. But that’s a thought for later. Right now, they’ve got a barn full of headless corpses and a passed-out angel to deal with.

“What… what did Cas do?” He asks Sam as he kneels down over the angel and tries to rouse him with one hand tapping his cheek and the other his chest. But he gets nothing but a soft moan.

“I don’t know, Dean. It looked like, like he cut out his grace and shoved it into your chest. Do you think he’s still an angel?”

“Jesus, I don’t know man. I’m going to get him to the car. What do you say we just torch this whole barn and call it a night?”

“I’ll get the gasoline.”

Cas isn’t helping him at all so he has to lean down and grab an arm and a leg and fireman carry him to the car and fuck if he isn’t a lot heavier than he looks. He deposits him in the back seat and Cas’ head falls back against the seat. Dean checks that Sam isn’t watching and turns back to Cas.

“What did you do, you stupid son-of-a-bitch?” He whispers and lets himself indulge in touching the other man, gently brushing his hair off his forehead. This is the first chance he has had to actually look at Cas since he told him he loved him a few weeks ago then got sucked away by black goo. Dean didn’t think he would ever get to see him again and he’s been burying all of those feelings deep since then. But now, Cas to just turns up out of the blue and gives up his grace. Now what? He can barely think through today’s adrenaline rush, the fear, saying goodbye to Sammy, getting Cas back, and now he can’t even talk to the guy. “You better be OK, you hear me?”

“OK, let’s get out of here. That ambulance I called is going to be here any moment,” Sam says as he walks towards the Impala with an empty gas can in his hand and Dean snaps his hand back to his side. He stands up and sees orange flames licking up the sides of the barn behind him. They’ll call it in to 911 once they are far enough away and are sure the bodies are pretty well burned so the ambulance isn’t the only first responder to come.

------

On the drive back to the hotel, Sam’s pretty sure Dean is going to crash the Impala since he has spent more time looking in the rear view mirror at Cas than he has on the road. He’s quiet for a long time, but the white knuckles on the steering wheel give away that something is wrong. Not that Sam is much better. It’s been at least half an hour and he can still feel a tremble in his hands. He nearly watched Dean die… again. But this time felt different. This time felt like it. With Chuck and Billie out of the picture and Jack being hands off, he didn’t think there was anyone left to call, any power left that would help a Winchester.

He should have known even death itself couldn’t keep Castiel away when Dean is in danger.

Cas is back. His friend. His brother. And of course, Dean’s -- who knows – sometimes it feels like more than best friend. Those two have been through so much for each other and died for each other and Sam has never forgotten that Cas told him that he and Dean have a profound bond, whatever that means. Regardless, Cas did something he hadn’t seen before. It looked like he took out his own grace. Man, he hopes he’s OK. Dean doesn’t look like he’ll handle another loss well.

“OK, what the hell is going on?” Dean stage whispers, taking Sam out of his thoughts. “How the hell did he get back? I mean he said that the Empty was so powerful he was going to be stuck there forever.”

“I don’t know.”

“I mean really, how long has he even been out of there? You’d think he could at least give us a call and let us know he’s OK.”

“Yeah, I guess. But probably no cell service in heaven or wherever.”

Dean takes time out from staring at Cas to give Sam a death stare. “Dude just let us think he was gone forever. That’s not cool.”

“I wonder if he’s back for good.”

“Yeah… I wonder,” Dean answers quietly and goes back to focusing on the road.

They drive in silence for another few minutes before Sam interrupts the quiet. “Dean, that back there, in the barn… I’m… pretty shaken, you know? You almost died and I… I want us to live.”

“Not like I don’t want to live too, Sam. But I always figured I’d go out bloody.”

“But that’s just it, Dean. We don’t have to. You’ve seen what’s going on. The hunts, there are less of them. I mean, with angels and demons out of the mix, well, that was half our problems. I’m thinking… maybe we don’t have to just hunt.”

Dean looks at Sam with an expression he can’t read but after a few moments, it softens and he answers, “I was kind of thinking the same thing, actually. I mean I always want to hunt. You know, saving people, it’s… it’s what we do it’s the one thing I know I’m good at. But we know so many other hunters now and… and maybe it doesn’t need to always be us, you know?”

“Exactly! I’ve been thinking. With Eileen moving in next week and Cas back, what if we switch our focus? Like the Men of Letters, we can teach people the lore and help make hunting better and safer.” He’s actually excited about this. He was so broken after what happened to the hunters from the apocalypse world, but maybe it’s time to try again now that it’s just this universe and there are no pissed off archangels after them.

Dean huffs a laugh and smirks, “Sam, I haven’t told you yet but I applied for a job, a real one, leading a construction crew. I figured since things were getting slow I might try to live like a real person for a while. I’m not quitting hunting but yeah lets… lets live!”

Back at the hotel, they are greeted by Miracle, who immediately jumps into Dean’s arms as Dean mumbles into his fur, “Got someone for you to meet, buddy.” And once they get a still comatose Cas onto a bed with the dog curled up by his feet standing guard, Dean and Sam step outside with a couple of beers in each hand.

After a few silent sips, Sam ventures, “So… are you OK?”

Dean gives him a look. “What do you mean?”

“I mean Cas is back and maybe human and you seem… I don’t know… off.”

Dean makes a face like he’s thinking really hard then gulps down the rest of his beer. Finally, after a drawn-out silence he begins, “Sam, there’s something I didn’t tell you about when Cas… when he died… before.”

“What is it?”

“When Billie was coming for me she was- she was doing something to my heart. She was killing me but Cas, he… he got me to the storeroom and he made a sigil to hold her off. But Sam, we were done for. It was only a matter of time before she got through. And Cas said some shit and that’s what made the Empty come for him.”

“What did he say, Dean?”

After a long pause where Sam thinks Dean isn’t going to answer, he finally continues, “He said he couldn’t have what he wanted but he could be happy with just saying it. Like what the fuck does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, Dean. What did he say that made him happy?”

Dean just shakes his head and rubs his eyes but not before Sam notices them filling with tears ready to spill over.

Finally, Dean turns away from him to face the parking lot, the darkness hiding the emotion on his face. “He’s so stupid, man. Like he didn’t know what he was saying. How could he? I don’t even know what he meant.”

Sam wants to ask but he knows its best to let Dean work through this and be patient as he waits for him to be ready to talk.

“He said… Cas, he said I taught him how to care and that… that he loved me.”

“Of course he loves you, Dean. You’re his best friend and we’re his family.”

Dean shakes his head certainly. “No, Sam. I… I don’t think he meant it like that.”

Oh. Oh.

“Well that… that makes sense, actually.”

Turning on hid Dean growls, “How does that make any sense?”

“Remember what Chuck said? That this Cas was the only version of himself that rebelled, that helped us, and stayed with us and basically changed the course of history? Dean, that… that takes a lot of love.”

“But he’s an angel. Like, I don’t even know if their definition of… you know… is the same as ours.”

Sam huffs a small laugh, “Cas has never been like other angels though, has he? I think he knew exactly what he was saying. The question is, what do you think about it?”

Dean drags a hand down over his face, “I don’t know, man. He’s my best friend, you know?”

“He’s one of my best friends too, but I don’t think that’s what we’re talking about, here.”

“What if.. what if I’m reading into this whole thing and he just meant that he loves us like, like family?”

Sam shrugs, “Maybe, but I’m not sure that’s really enough to change our universe and rebel against Chuck’s writings and summon the Empty. I guess you’re going to have to have a conversation with him and find out.”

“Yeah… yeah,” Dean answers, distracted. It feels like the end of the conversation so Sam turns towards the motel room to go in and check on their friend before Dean grabs his arm. “What if… what if I might feel… that… about him?”

Sam smiles at his dumb brother, “Then I’d say both of you are very lucky and found something special. We don’t get a lot of wins in this life, Dean. That’s why I never gave up on Eileen. When you find something good and real, hold onto it. And I’d say both of you have earned some happiness.”

Dean just nods his head, looking thoughtful before finally looking away and quietly answering, “Thanks, Sammy.”

It’s then that they hear a groan from inside the room and they both briefly make eye contact before rushing in. Dean, of course immediately sits on the edge of the bed trying his best not to touch Cas while Sam stands beside him seeing if their friend will rouse.

-----

When Castiel wakes up the first thing he notices is pain. He’s used to pain, but his grace always dulled the nerve endings so that all of this sensation was greatly muted. It takes him a moment to recall why his grace isn’t working and then he remembers that he used what was left of it to heal Dean. He’s human again and this time his grace isn’t just stored away in a vile in a library. No, the last of it was used up (except the small remnant that will always live with him, integrated into his vessel – no, not his vessel, his body). He concentrates for a moment to figure out where the pain is coming from and if there is any permanent damage that he needs to be concerned about.

All of his organs seem to be in working order but there is a dull ache through his entire body, like it had been thrown against a wall and all of his muscles are bruised. He realizes this is from extracting the grace out of every cell and concentrating it into one ball of cosmic energy that he drew out through his neck. He had to use every muscle in his body to focus and force the foreign grace into Dean. Dean! He lost consciousness before he saw if his friend was healed. He doesn’t even know if he is alive or dead. He immediately moves to open his eyes, to get up and find out and when he does he lets out a groan from the pain and the light shining into his eyes giving him a headache.

But within seconds he has his answer, and he feels a relief wash over him as Dean sits down next to him. Dean: alive, healthy, healed, and looking very concerned.

“Hey, hey, Cas. You with us?” He asks gently.

Castiel looks around the room quickly then back to Dean. “I… yes, I’m with you and you’re… it worked. You’re alive?” He finds his hand moving to touch Dean on its own, resting on his friend’s upper arm soliciting the slightest smile from Dean.

“Yeah, man I’m good as new. But what the hell happened back there? What did you do? Where did you even come from?”

Castiel shifts up to a sitting position, adjusts the pillows and lets himself sit back against them while something golden catches his eye, movement at the foot of the bed. He squints at the big ball of fur and asks, “Why is there a dog here?”

The dog in question walks up to Castiel and begins sniffing at him, tail wagging furiously and he cautiously reaches out and pets the animal behind it’s ears. When he looks back at Dean the man has a grin widening on his face, “Cas, meet Miracle. He’s ours and I think he likes you.”

The dog lets out a small whine and Sam answers, “And I also think he needs to go out. Guys, I’ll take him for a walk and be back shortly. Cas, I’m so glad you are back. I’ve missed you.”

He steps forward and wraps Castiel in a hug and he answers, “I’ve missed you too, Sam.” And Castiel can’t stop the smile on his face as he realizes how happy he is to see his good friend again. Sam then takes Miracle outside and leaves Dean and Castiel alone. He can’t bring himself to look into Dean’s eyes, so he sits in silence, staring at the stained brown and yellow patterned bedspread.

Dean clears his throat and begins, “Ok, man. Now I need some answers. What’s going on? How are you even here?”

“Jack. He pulled me and some of the other angels from the Empty and put the entity back to sleep. Many of my brethren chose to remain at rest but some were returned to heaven. Jack and I, we have been leading the rebuilding. We are changing it, Dean. Its no longer a place where each person re-lives their memories. It’s open and free, a place where souls can rest and seek greater fulfillment. I was building it with you in mind. I didn’t expect you to be arriving so soon, though.”

He says this last accusing, angry and finally makes eye contact with Dean.

“Hey, man, I wasn’t exactly planning to be taken out by vamp-mimes in Canton freaking Ohio today.”

“You need to be more careful.”

“Yeah, I guess maybe I do. But that still doesn’t answer the question. How did you get to me? Did you get your wings back?”

“No, our wings are… I think Jack wanted angels to stay in heaven and not interfere on earth so he didn’t restore our wings. Our work is now in heaven, restoring it, re-creating it, and protecting the souls there. But I could feel your distress so I asked him to send me to you. I knew I wouldn’t be able to return to heaven.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean fumes.

“It’s alright, Dean. I would prefer to be here… if you will have me.”

“If I’ll have… of course you can stay, you dumbass. But I’m still pissed you left like you did.” Dean breaks eye contact, eyes drifting down to where their thighs are nearly touching, his right hand coming up to scratch the side of his neck before he suddenly leans forward and wraps Castiel in a hug. “I’ve missed you, you know?” Dean breathes into his neck.

“And I, you, Dean,” Castiel answers, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend.

The hug lasts just a bit longer than Dean’s usually do but Castiel isn’t complaining. He hasn’t felt this happy since he spoke his truth to the man several earth weeks ago. It’s been much longer in heaven, but time doesn’t exist there in a linear sense so it feels like a very long time to him. Dean takes a deep breath and separates them but keeps his hands on Castiel’s shoulders and looks him deep in his eyes. Castiel is lost for a moment in the beautiful sea of green, sparkling with unfallen tears.

“Cas, your grace. What did you do with it that saved me?”

“You were going to die, and I… I wasn’t powerful enough to heal you. My grace has been waning for a long time and I couldn’t… I couldn’t watch you die. I knew the only way was to give you directly what grace I had left.”

Dean is shaking his head looking stunned and sad and his mouth opens like he wants to protest.

“Dean, it was my choice, one that I don’t regret.”

“But I’m not-“

“Don’t tell me you aren’t worth it. There will never be a moment when you aren’t worth saving.”

Dean huffs, head shaking again. “Thanks, Cas. I know I don’t say it enough but thanks… for everything.”

They sit in silence for a moment, neither ready to break eye contact or the gravity of the moment. Finally, Dean looks away. “So, what does this mean. Are you human now?”

“Essentially. What residual grace I have left isn’t enough to give me any powers. I’ll live a human life and I’ll age and die.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. That was such a stupid way to get hurt and you gave up your grace for me? I’m… I’m so sorry, Cas.” Dean puts his hand over Castiel’s, an obvious plea for forgiveness.

Castiel is shocked for a moment. Hand holding isn’t something he knows Dean is comfortable with and even though he told Dean that he is in love with him, he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. He will be satisfied being the hunter’s friend since he knows that Dean could never love him back the same way.

“Cas, man, I need to say something here. It’s about what… what you said before the Empty.”

“That doesn’t need to change anything between us. I just needed you to know how I felt.”

“You were wrong, you know.” Castiel squints and tilts his head, trying to figure out what Dean means, what he was wrong about. And Dean smiles at him, fond and affectionate. “To think you can’t have what you want. How do you even know if you don’t try?”

“Dean, I guess I was too ambiguous. When I said that I loved you, I meant that I am in love with you and what I want is to be with you, always. Were it my choice, you would be my partner, my friend, my lover, and my soul mate. But I know that you don’t feel the same and that’s okay. I’m satisfied with just being able to tell you that.”

“Well, what if I’m not satisfied with that? What if you fucking off like that without even giving me a chance to respond was pretty messed up? Cause here’s the thing, Cas.” Dean swallows and takes a large breath, obviously gearing up to say something difficult and important. “You know how you said that I’m, you know, good? Well, man, you need to believe that you are too. Cas, half the time I was only able to stand up and fight because you and Sam believed in me. You, fighting with us and for us… for me, is what changed everything. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had and I lo… I love you too, Cas. So that thing that you think you can’t have… what if we give it a shot?”

Castiel can feel his eyes becoming misted over and he can barely believe what he is hearing, that Dean could possibly be in love with him too. He had never considered the possibility that Dean could love him, let alone love the male body that has become his own. But here he is, sitting close to Dean, with his hand warm under Dean’s and the hunter’s eyes looking at him with earnestness, fear, and a pleading.

Castiel slowly nods and watches a fond smile build on Dean’s face. “Yeah?” He asks, “Do you wanna try… a kiss?”

“Yes, please,” Castiel breathes out soft and solemn. And Dean brings a hand up to his cheek and softly caresses down to his neck and gently tilts his head and pulls him in until their lips meet. It’s short, just a soft caress but the thrill of it is nearly too much to bear.

Dean pulls back and rests their foreheads together. “I never thought this would be something we could have but, Cas, we beat God. We’re free now and I just wanna have a life that’s mine.” Dean pulls back a bit but stays close, their faces only inches apart. “And I don’t usually do the whole relationship thing so I don’t even know if I’m going to be any good at it, but I’ll try, for you.”

“We’ll figure it out together. But first, can we do that again?” He asks, the slightest smirk on his face.

And Dean growls, “Hell yeah,” and dives in for another kiss, this one a lot less innocent than their first. Dean deepens the kiss, one hand wrapping around Cas’ back and the other threading through the hair on the back of Castiel’s head, giving him better control to pour his feelings into the kiss. Cas lets Dean take the lead, he can feel the hunter’s desperation and wants to give him everything he needs. Dean makes a low, satisfied sound and Castiel’s insides do a flip because he never imagined that sound would be because of him.

Just as their hands begin groping at eachother, Sam returns.

“Oh… oh, man, sorry guys,” he says awkwardly standing in the doorway.

Dean pulls back but keeps his hands on Cas’ jaw and smiles, secretive and just for him.

“So… uh, it looks like you guys figured things out.”

Dean laughs, a free bubbly sound and tells his brother, “Yeah, Sammy, it took a while, but I think we finally both know what we want.”

-------

Sam takes the whole thing in stride, barely even acting surprised and when Dean asks him why, Sam just rolls his eyes and says that he has watched his brother and his angel dance around this for years just waiting for them to figure it out. And when Dean protests that Cas is a dude, Sam gently reminds him of his crushes on Dr. Sexy and Gunner Lawless and his fling with Lee. Dean looks at him shocked, growling that Lee could have kept his mouth shut but Sam just tells him no one ever had to tell him because he had eyes. Dean shakes his head, tells him to shut up, and smirks at him over his beer bottle.

Life in the bunker with the four of them barely feels like an adjustment. It’s so easy for Cas to move into Dean’s room and fall into a routine. Dean gets that construction job and Sam, Cas, and Eileen go to work on solidifying the hunter network. Charlie and Stevie come by to help install a phone system so that they can dispatch and play FBI leaders when others need it. Dean jokes that they are becoming Hunter Corp and even gets some business advice from their counterparts who are still living it up in Brazil, which never won’t be weird.

They still pick up hunts themselves, sometimes just Sam and Dean, leaving Cas and Eileen to man the bunker. With Cas being fluent in ASL, they find themselves having secret conversations and making each other laugh, to the chagrin of their partners who just know it’s about them. Other times Dean will grab Cas and hit the road for a hunt, usually picked because it’s close to something he wants to see. They took care of a wendigo in Arizona so that they could stand on the edge of the Grand Canyon and the four of them killed a dragon living in a cave in California and spent the next week enjoying the ocean, toes in the sand, fingers entwined, and laughing at Miracle as he frolicks in the waves. Cas spens days kissing all of the new freckles that appear across Deans face and body from all that sun.

The Society of Letters, as they rename it at Charlie’s request, flourishes. Sam is a natural leader and they develop a rotation where different hunters will spend a week or two at a time in the bunker, manning the phones and dispatching cases. It also becomes a resting stop for hunters who, like Sam and Dean for so many years, don’t really have a home and just travel from case to case. The infirmary becomes well stocked and they hire Alex on full time to take care of injured hunters.

Dean loves it at first. He gets to see all of his friends. Claire and Kaia, Donna and Jodi, Caesar and Jesse, Garth and Bess. They all take shifts and his life is full of friends and family. Eventually, though, he is tired of not being able to roam around in his robe or not being able to pin Cas to map table and have his way with him. There are just always people coming and going in his home.

Two years in, he and Cas move out to a small craftsman on a lake about 10 miles from the bunker. It’s close enough that they can see Sam and Eileen whenever they want but far enough to be quiet and all theirs. It has a small pier for Dean to fish off of and a big yard for Miracle to chase squirrels. The garage is big enough for Dean to work on Baby and for Cas to park Dorothy’s bike, which has become his preferred method of transportation. Cas has beehives and a garden and Dean can’t stop watching him in his sun hat with his hands in the dirt and his heart still skips a beat sometimes just knowing that Cas is his. He gets a job teaching foreign languages at a local community college and damn if he isn’t the hottest professor Dean’s ever seen in his vests and sweaters.

One day he slips a ring on Cas’ finger after amazing adrenaline-filled post-hunt sex in a musty motel room outside of Des Moines. They get married in their back yard, fairy lights twinkling in the trees and the sun setting over the lake, bathing the scene in golden light. There is no priest or official, just Dean and Cas promising their lives to each other as they stare into each other’s misty eyes. The rest of the world seems to disappear. Afterwards, 20 or so guests hover around the picnic tables covered with pot luck dishes and dance to the tinny music coming from a table top speaker in the clearing surrounded by folding chairs. Dean sways slowly with Cas as he whispers, “I love you, Castiel Winchester,” in his ear.

Sam and Eileen move out a year later when she announces at Christmas dinner that they are having a baby. They too stay close, finding a home in an older suburban neighborhood with huge trees in the yard for the kids to climb and neighborhood children always blocking the road with their street hockey games. They sold some of the Men of Letters cars to buy the house and now the bunker’s garage is actually functional for the hunters coming and going. They both keep working in the bunker as leaders of the Society of Hunters, but they stop going on hunts and focus on raising the kids.

And so life goes on as it does, full of celebrations and tears, births and deaths, hunts and holidays, victories and losses. Dean and Cas still fight, bickering over things big and small. Cas will always be too stubborn and Dean too controlling. And when things get bad, Dean fumes as Cas takes off on Dorothy’s bike to get away from it all. But he learns that Cas will always return to him and they get better and making up, at talking, and at listening as the years roll by.

Dean dies on a Tuesday. It was the bacon that got him after all, a heart attack at the end of a long life. Sam smiles at the irony and they give him a hunter’s funeral. Sam is surrounded by his friends and his growing family that now includes four grandchildren. Led Zeppelin plays and everyone toasts Dean as the drinks and stories flow freely. There is laughter and joy as his life is celebrated and Sam thinks this is exactly what Dean would have wanted. Cas never leaves his seat by the fire until the last embers have burned away. Sam knows Cas won’t be far behind Dean, his health is ailing too and they never did do well without each other.

“Hey, Cas, how are you doing?” Sam asks, bringing a drink over to his brother-in-law.

“I’m OK, thank you,” he answers, adjusting the blanket that Claire had placed over his lap. “I know where Dean is and I promise you, he’s happy. He’ll be greeted by Bobby and Mary and Charlie and we even planned a reception for him at the Roadhouse. I think even Jack will be there.”

Cas closes his eyes and tips his face to the sky, breathing in and he looks peaceful. Sam sits down next to him, groaning a bit at the arthritis that has set into his old joints.

“I’m so grateful for you, Cas. You made him happy for all these years and even prepared heaven for him.” Sam feels a tear trickle down his face. “I’m just going to miss him so much!”

“I miss him already, but we will all be together again soon. You and Dean are the best humans I have ever known. What we did together, we have earned eternal peace and fulfillment.” Cas finally turns to him, smiling. “We did it, Sam. We wrote our own story and it was good.”

#Supernatural #Destiel #Destiel fanfic #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Castiel #15x20 #15x20 fix it #Dean Winchester lives #Castiel to the rescue #lots of feelings #and talks between the boys

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hanii-rose · 4 years

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•Because I can't send anon ask in askbox, can I submit it on here instead? So I have this thought:

Garou and the s/o were childhood friends but separated after Garou began to train himself in Bang's dojo. Now after Garou was defeated he comes to visit s/o's house for temporary hiding and also to rekindle their relationship.

Expect both of them getting closer after that. It mostly fluff sfw but you can throw some hot nsfw stuff for the thirst 🔥🔥

But can I request that the s/o is gender neutral, please? It's kinda sad that I rarely find a writing for gender neutral or male s/o, so I will be very grateful if you write the s/o as a gender neutral.

Thanks so much and have a nice day! ❤•

Yay another request ☺️ I tried to write reader as gender neutral, I'm not that great at it, but hopefully it's good enough to post haha

____________________________________

Reunited

Garou x GN! Reader

It had been a few weeks since Garou had inexplicably showed up at your front door, bruised and weakened. When you first saw him, you instantly recognized his signature hairdo and blazing gold orbs.

It was that kid from school! You occasionally played with him in your younger years, and the two of you had become particularly close, talking, pulling pranks and acting out other childish activities. But as you grew older, you focused more on your books and slowly started seeing less of him, ultimately drifting apart in highschool. You never saw him again, until two weeks ago that is.

After he came hobbling through your doorstep, you let him in, fed him and even bathed him. He took care of his own injuries and he's been staying with you ever since. You assumed he remembered you due to the fact that he called you by your name multiple times without you telling him. When you asked him why he showed up here and now, he explained his situation. His hero-hunting, the Monster Association, Bang's dojo and his pathetic defeat at the hands of a bald guy in a yellow jumpsuit. He told you he needed sanctuary for two or three months, at least until the search for him died down.

You understood his reasoning, albeit feeling a bit sad that he didn't come to you mainly to see you. Truth be told, you had developed quite a crush on the silver haired Adonis, even back then. But in the past, you were much too busy with your studies and his sudden disappearance left your desires unfulfilled. But now he was back, taller, stronger and much much more handsome. It reignited a little spark in your core and you constantly began to crave his touch and attention, often picturing him in the most lewd scenarios you could think of. You touched yourself so many times that you lost count. You tried not to most of the time, in hopes that he wouldn't notice your arousal. Little did you know that Garou was going through something similar.

Presently, you had just returned home from work with a bag of store bought food. You hung your coat and scarf on the coat hanger and neatly discarded your black office shoes on the wooden shoe rack. You walked all the way to the kitchen, placed the bag of food down and rushed to the living room in hopes of finding your wolfish guest.

You walked in on him, shirtless, crouching on the floor and fiddling with something. His back displayed all of the hard work he had put into building himself these few years. Littered with bumps and crevices that most people could only dream of in their lifetime.

You, unbeknownst to him, gently pressed a finger down onto the back of his neck and slid downwards, following his spine to the middle of his gorgeous back. He visibly tensed and turned his head, staring deep into your curious eyes.

"You're back..." he stated, turning around and getting back to work.

"Yeah, had a long day today. What have you been up to?"

He shook his head softly and muttered, "Fixed yer damn side table. The wobbly piece of shit almost fell over when I walked by it."

You chuckled at his words while patting his defined shoulder and replied, "Well you're pretty nifty, aren't you? Maybe I'll keep you around longer, huh?"

He smirked and stood up straight, taut muscles glistened with sweat and biceps flexed as he scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't ya? A personal slave to do all of yer work for ya?"

You replied with an obnoxious 'MHMMM' and exited the living room, walking yourself to the kitchen.

Opening the fridge door, you grabbed the large 2 litre bottle of coke and two large sets of glasses and decorated them atop a tray.

Holding the tray and kicking the fridge door shut with your foot, you treaded back to the living area and set the tray down on top of your now fixed table.

"Sit down, I'll fix you a drink."

Garou complied, sitting himself comfortably on top of your black couch, the leather making scratching noises as he shifted around for the perfect spot.

"Thanks for the table. I've been trying to fix it for ages."

He nodded and grinned, "No big deal. It's the least I could do."

You sat down next to him on his right, leaned forward and poured the chilled coke into the two cups. Closing the cap, you handed him a glass and sipped on your own coke. You relaxed back into the couch, your shoulder brushing his ever so slightly as you unwinded. Work was getting frustrating, even for a desk job, not to mention your desires for the wolfish man would not relent, leading to many restless nights.

"This feels way too good." you lazily stated, stretching back and leisurely taking small sips from the cup.

"Yeah..." Garou agreed softly, his cup already empty.

You noticed the lack of substance in his hand and offered a refill.

"Hold your cup right. I'm gonna give you some more..."

You grabbed the large plastic bottle from the table and twisted the cap open, pouring carefully, a good enough amount of the sweet liquid.

Unbeknownst to you, Garou had outstretched his arm behind you, resting it at the headrest of the couch. His right knee brushed up against yours gently as he scooted closer to you, inhaling your intoxicating scent. Somehow, your smell was so much more stronger when you came home from work. He noticed it once, after you had accidentally bumped into him. And that unique smell drove him absolutely wild.

You turned back after filling his cup and placed the half empty bottle down. You again leaned back getting even more comfortable, somewhat leaning against him. From this position, he could trace your body through the white flimsy fabric of your office shirt.

It was turning him on more than anything.

He chugged his cup until it was completely empty, savouring every last drop of the fizzy drink. He placed his cup down and his now empty hand found purchase upon your clothed knee. His right arm still behind you, wrapped itself around your shoulder, trapping you.

"So tell me about work." he suggested, rubbing your tired shoulder.

"Oh my gosh, you have no clue how annoying some of my desk mates are!" you began.

"They constantly take things from my desk without asking and they are so unorganized, like at least learn to number your reports when you give em' to me, ya'know?"

He hummed and sighed with whatever you said, but honestly, he didn't give a crap about your asshole co-workers. Just let him stare at your stunning legs for a while longer. He could feel his cock twitching in his trousers, your lips trembled as you angrily ranted about your fellow employees. Those same lips he wanted to ravish with his own.

"-And then I said, I'm not going to your fuckin' baby shower and..." you suddenly quieted down.

Why was he staring at you like that?

"Umm Garou, you okay buddy...?"

He ignored your question again. He was so close, you could feel his breath on your cheek! You tried scooting away, but you were held in place by his left hand on your knee, gripping with force and his right arm wrapped around your shoulder.

You placed your palm on top of his hand and he snapped out of his trance, face red and pouting.

"... Is something wrong?"

He vigorously shook his head and scratched his cheek, the blush still faintly prominent under his chiseled cheekbones.

"Are you sure?" you asked, thoroughly concerned. You placed your open palm on his back and rubbed languidly, relenting your weight on top of his. Before you could get up from your position next to him, he yanked you downwards and you plopped down onto the couch, your back hitting the foam armrest.

"Yer so fuckin' sexy, ya'know that?" he asked, sounding somewhat angry.

"Huh?"

"I said, yer so fuckin' sexy. Such a fuckin' turn on!"

Before you could protest, he swiped his hand down your middle, swiftly popping off all of the buttons on your shirt and exposing your chest and stomach. You tried to push him off but to no avail.

"Garou! What are you doing?" you inquired, feeling absolutely embarrassed. Your cheeks dusted with red and you swallowed hard.

"Fuck... What the fuck am I doing?"

He sighed exasperatedly and got off of you. Standing up, he started walking towards the guest room, no doubt to put on his shirt and leave. But before he could turn the corner, you grasped his hand tight.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving. I shouldn't be around you anymore. I can't fucking control myself..." he replied, sweat dripping from his temple.

"What do you mean?"

You strutted closer to him, placing two hands on his bare chest.

"I like you, a lot. And I wanna fuck you all the time."

You were surprised, pleasantly. You giggled at his confession and leaned closer, almost falling on his hard chest.

Rubbing your hand down his stomach and over his delicious abs, you wiggled in his sight.

"I don't mind..." you spoke, tone awfully sly.

Your expression gave away your intentions and Garou found himself grasping your hips, bringing them closer towards his.

"Oh really?" he asked, equally mischievous.

You made a lusty 'mhmm' noise, confirming his suspicions.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you leaned closer to his smirking face, and whispered, "I want to fuck you all the time too..."

"Fuck, yer such a tease!"

Giggling, you brought your mouth upto his and waited for him to place his on yours.

When your silent request was met, you closed your eyes and revelled in the passion.

He feverishly gripped your waist, slid his hand downwards, giving your ass a quick squeeze.

Breaking the kiss, he kept his face near yours, taking in your form.

"I've wanted to do that for so long..."

"Me too." you replied.

"So you wanna fuck me all the time too huh?" he asked.

"Yeah, you're the only one who can take my mind off of my demented office."

"Well then, should we get started?"

You nodded, lustfully looking into his eyes.

Sitting down had become an issue for you these days. As the days progressed, so did your monster boyfriends hormones. But you two got by. You had to buy a new shirt though, and everyone at your office could tell you'd been fucked out of your mind. But nothing bothered you anymore, not even your moronic deskmates.

It seemed life had gotten better for the two of you, except for the severe back pain you had after Garou finished his dubious acts. Other than that you were fairly content with what you had right now.

#garou headcanons #garou x reader #garou #garouonepunchman #opm garou #garou the hero hunter #gender neutral reader #gender neutral s/o #no smut #please let me know if i need to tag anything else #submission

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big-wet-cas-eyes · 4 years

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AUs: day 2 of @starrynightdeancas 's 2k followers celebration ✨ (ao3)

I didn't know what I wanted to do for this AU prompt so I had @vaxilddan send me a random job and @pixelhanzo send me a random trope and thus the monstrosity "dog groomer + enemies to friends to lovers" was born

(wc: ~1700)

The little bell above the door dings right as Castiel hangs up the phone. Mrs. Tran is running a little late picking up her golden retriever, Alfie, but she assures Castiel that she'll be there soon. He doesn't mind much; Alfie is a polite dog, and he's been napping quietly in the corner while Castiel tidies up his grooming salon for the last twenty minutes. The front door closes loudly, causing the bell to ding again, and he looks up to see a tall man walking through the door with a scruffy ball of fluff tucked under his arm.

The man might be handsome if he didn't look so exhausted. Strong, stubbled jaw, sandy hair, green eyes… exactly Castiel's type. But the deep purple circles under his eyes make it look like the man hasn't slept in a week. He doesn't get a good vibe from the guy.

Castiel frowns slightly. Alfie was supposed to be his last appointment of the day. He glances down at his schedule, seeing nothing after Alfie. They do take walk-ins, but he was hoping to close up early. Business is business, though, so he pastes his customer service smile on his face.

"Hello, sir. How can I help you?" Castiel greets as the man reaches the desk.

"Hey, uh, you guys do nail trims right?" the man asks as the fur under his arm wiggles.

Castiel eyes the dog warily. It's filthy and matted. He can't even see its eyes. "Just a nail trim?" he asks, unable to stop the skepticism from dripping into his voice. He's trying not to judge, but if he just does a nail trim, this dog is going to leave his salon looking like it's never had a bath in its life.

"What?" The man looks up, surprise in his now wide eyes. He glances down at the dog and grimaces. "I guess she is pretty dirty. Do you have time for a bath? Or I could make an appointment for another day if you're busy?" He sounds unsure, looking around Castiel and probably noticing Alfie, who is awake now and watching the new arrivals.

"No, Alfie there was my last appointment for the day and he's just waiting to go home. I have time to do a bath." He watches the little dog wiggle even more, desperately trying to free itself from under the man's arm. "Who is this?" Castiel asks as he comes around the counter to get a better look at it.

"This is Baby. She's a, uh, pomchi," he replies, moving the dog to grip her under the arms, holding her out in Castiel's direction like she's a bomb. Castiel raises an eyebrow. The combination of dog breed and name don't exactly match this guy's rugged appearance, but he's heard weirder so he shrugs it off.

"Hello, Baby," Castiel says, reaching forward to pat her on the head. His hand snaps back immediately when the dog starts snarling.

"She's a little nervous around new people," the man says sheepishly.

Castiel frowns. He's seen a lot of nervous dogs, and they don't normally react quite this angrily. "I'll just go grab a leash for her." He grabs a clipboard from the desk and hands it at Dean. "Please fill this out."

He sends the man — Dean, according to his paperwork — on his way five minutes later with a promise that he'll call as soon as Baby is ready.

And that's how Castiel meets his least favorite dog grooming client.

Dean brings Baby into Castiel's grooming shop about once a month. She is absolutely, without a doubt, the meanest dog he's ever met. He's taken to muzzling her the moment Dean is out the door because he nearly had his hand ripped off one too many times during her first visit. She snarls and snaps and honestly just looks pissed the entire time she's there. And while she seems slightly more comfortable with Dean, he's caught the dog snarling at her owner a few times too. The dog is tiny, barely six pound soaking wet, but she's pure, concentrated evil.

This dog clearly got no training or proper socialization. He blames her Dean for that. He has no patience for irresponsible owners.

After six months of grooming the literal devil, Castiel finally decides to confront the guy. He doesn't care that it's unprofessional. He doesn't even care if he loses a client or gets a bad review. He's sick of this entitled dick bringing his asshole dog in. Baby has been snarling at him under her muzzle for a full hour, even now that he's completely done with her grooming and she's sitting in the bed in the corner. She sits and glares at Castiel, murder in her eyes. Castiel glares right back at her, and when the bell above the door dings, Castiel shifts his glare to the man walking in.

"Hi, I'm here to pick up B— woah, are you okay, dude?" Dean clearly takes in his glare and stops dead in his tracks, only making it halfway to the front desk.

"Your dog," Cas grits out through clenched teeth, "is the devil incarnate." He knows the anger is clear in his voice. He waits, eyes still fixed on Dean.

"I, uh," Dean stammers, hand rubbing the back of his neck, "I know she's a pain in the ass, but look man, I'm doing my best." He's looking at the floor now.

"I have to muzzle her. She's been snarling at me nonstop for an hour," he almost yells. He points behind him at the dog, not taking his eyes off Dean. "She's still snarling at me! I haven't touched her in fifteen minutes!" The dog growls slightly louder in the background, as if to prove Castiel's point.

Dean looks up, eyes wide. He looks horrified, and Castiel is actually starting to feel a little guilty. "Look, Cas, I'm really sorry, I had no idea. I can start taking her somewhere else. I'm not really a dog person—"

Castiel cuts him off. "Why the hell do you have a dog then?" He can tell that he's being too harsh, but he's just so angry.

The look on Dean's face shifts from embarrassed to sad. "She belonged to my neighbor. She passed away about six months ago, right before I started bringing Baby in to see you. She was always a little uneasy around people, but she seemed okay with me when I visited. That's why Mildred made me promise to take care of her when she was gone, but without Mildred around, Baby completely hates me." He looks Castiel in the eye, finally, eyes pleading. "I'm trying so hard to train her, but she's already eight years old and so, so stubborn. I have no idea what I'm doing."

And all of a sudden Castiel feels like a piece of shit.

He learns a lot about Dean in the next few months, and it turns out the guy isn't so bad now that Castiel doesn't feel obligated to hate him. He brings Baby in more frequently now that winter has come; apparently Baby makes a habit of walking through muddy, slushy piles of snow. Baby still hasn't warmed up to him, but he's more willing to work with her now that he feels guilty for yelling at a guy who was just trying to do the right thing.

Castiel and Dean start chatting more and more whenever Dean drops her off and picks her up, lingering a little longer with each visit. The conversation usually centers around Baby, but Castiel has learned a little bit about Dean's life as well. Dean clearly cares about Baby, even though the dog looks at him like she might kill him at any moment.

Castiel is starting to consider him a friend when Dean asks if he can help train Baby.

"I'm not a dog trainer, Dean," Castiel says, feeling sorry for the words when he sees the look in Dean's eyes. Disappointment.

"I know, but, and you're not gonna believe this, she likes you better than she likes almost anyone else," Dean says, holding up his hand when Castiel opens his mouth to protest. "I swear, it's true. And you're actually a dog person, so I thought maybe…" He sighs loudly. "You don't have to."

Cas takes in a deep breath. He ignores Baby growling behind him and says, "I'll do it."

The bright smile that breaks across Dean's face makes it instantly worth it.

That's how Castiel finds himself at Dean's house every Friday night after work. Baby actually is a little more bearable to be around when she's at home. The disdain she shows in the grooming salon shifts to mostly disinterest as long as Castiel keeps his distance. Dean's not sure that they'll ever get any training accomplished until she trusts Castiel, so they mostly just sit on the floor in the same room as her, scooting closer to her occasionally to get her more comfortable with his presence. Castiel figures that she doesn't need training as much as she needs to get used to human contact, so he's fine with the approach. Luckily, it gives them a lot of time to talk and get to know each other beyond the short conversations they've been having for months.

Things with Baby are slow-going, but after a few weeks she lets them sit within arms reach without snarling, at least until they try to pet her. It's not much, but it's progress. And he feels the progress in his relationship with Dean, as well. The first few times Castiel comes over are a little awkward, but eventually it feels as if he's known Dean forever. Maybe they had a rocky start, a slow progression toward friendship, but Cas doesn't regret how things played out. He doesn't mind that it took some time and effort to understand Dean (and Baby, for that matter). He doesn't mind that it wasn't easy.

And if sometimes Dean reaches across the floor and holds his hand, or kisses him on the cheek on his way out the door… Cas doesn’t mind that either.

#dailydestieldelights #destiel au #deancas au #deancas ficlet #destiel ficlet #my writing

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