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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

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Hoodie Season

F/M Pairing: Y/N X Hwang Hyunjin

Genre: Married Life AU

Warnings: Smut and Language

Word Count: 7K

Note: Another requested Fic! Enjoyyyy

It was a Friday morning and I refused to leave the familiar comforts of my bed. With the addition of the sun hitting just right from the low-slanted window, I was prepared to give up on the possibility of moving from my comfortable position, even if that meant missing work today. After all, I endured an endless barrage of tiring conditions throughout the week, listening to adolescent teenagers gossip and complain about every possible topic. Therefore, this type of treatment was certainly warranted, even if the sounds of the traffic outside proved to be an annoying disturbance.

I let out a yawn, turning onto my side to face away from the street, pausing when I realized that there was something beneath my hand. I reluctantly pried open one eye, glancing down to see what I had just discovered. Irritation boiled beneath my skin when I realized several pregnancy magazines were strewn across the sheets. “What the hell?” I groaned, suddenly losing any prior interest in sleeping. I gathered the magazines together before storming into the kitchen where Hyunjin was sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee in hand. I tossed the magazines onto the empty space in front of him. “You’re not exactly subtle these days,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

My husband glanced up at me over the brim of his coffee mug. “What do you mean?” he asked with innocent eyes.

“I don’t want kids right now, Hyunjin,” I said, glowering at him once more. “Isn’t it enough that we deal with students every day at school?”

“But they’d be our kids, Y/N,” he pouted, attempting to hand me a magazine from atop the messy pile.

I ignored his offering, shaking my head while storming into the kitchen. “I don’t care if they’re our kids, I’m not ready!”

“They’re so cute though,” Hyunjin said, opening one of the covers. “Look at how small they are!”

“Yeah? Well, they won’t stay that small forever,” I said. “And then they’ll be just like those horny high school demons we deal with every day.”

“Aren’t you being dramatic?” he asked which was quite ironic coming from the Hwang Hyunjin, AKA, one of the most over-dramatic people I have ever met in my entire life. The same Hyunjin who demanded that they move Mr. Henderson into a new classroom because he was located right next to the library where I worked and Hyunjin was certain he was flirting with me.

“Babe, you can’t even pretend to be serious,” I said, reaching for the cereal from the top shelf. “I think you’re determined to test me today.”

“Our babies would be so beautiful,” Hyunjin went on as if he was refusing to listen to my counter-arguments.

“You’re only acting like this because one of your friends had a kid.”

“Maybe,” Hyunjin shrugged, joining me in the kitchen as I spooned more Fruit Loops into my mouth. “But you can’t tell me that you weren’t enamored with your nieces at my mom’s Christmas party.”

“I was just being nice,” I grumbled, ignoring the way Hyunjin was now clambering for my attention, arms wrapped around my waist. Hyunjin was always clingy in the mornings, fresh-faced with the lingering effects of sleep clouding his eyes.

“Can you at least pretend to think about it?” Hyunjin whined.

“Maybe if you’re good,” I said, loosening his hold which allowed me to slip through to the other side of the counter. “Don’t forget that your little PR stunt woke me up early this morning, babe, and I don’t forgive easily.”

“Don’t act like you hated it,” Hyunjin said, reaching for the car keys out of the small dish we kept by the door. “Am I driving?”

“How else will I intake my daily caffeine addiction?” I asked, pouring the remaining coffee into a travel mug. “But slow down in the school zone, I don’t think our bank account can take another traffic violation.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “I was barely over the limit.”

I grinned at the way he tried to defend himself. “Give me twenty minutes to make myself look decent.”

“Wouldn’t want to scare the kids, right Y/N?”

“Thin ice, Hyunjin, you’re very close to sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Hyunjin smirked because he knew my threats were empty. I was weak for my husband and he liked to exploit my affections for him at every opportunity possible. For example, last night he pretended to be super excited for the new season of the Bachelor (even though he hates the show) just because he wanted me sat in his lap while he did his best to decorate my neck with colorful marks.

In conclusion, Hyunjin was my kryptonite, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Hyunjin and I arrived at school fifteen minutes early, parting ways in the mostly full parking lot because the students definitely didn’t need to see the way he liked to grope my ass when we kissed. Despite working together, I rarely saw Hyunjin throughout the day unless he made-up some excuse to come see me in the library. But this was a rare occurrence since Hyunjin, as a dance teacher, really had no valid reason to need library resources.

Speaking of which, the library, at my personal request, was the glorified version of an introvert’s paradise. It was always quiet, thanks to my meticulous monitoring, and was equipped with a small digital lab and self-named “relaxation room” where students (and staff) could enjoy a variety of stuffed couches and reclinable chairs to simply forget about the other horrors of high school. I was especially proud of the library’s progress, updating equipment and technology yearly due to my persistence in applying for a variety of government grants. Yes, I was satisfied with my status as the school’s “cool” librarian who enforced the strict library rules of conduct while also allowing a smidgen of favoritism when one of my students brought in a candy bar to eat during lunch.

Of course, such sanctity was frequently disrupted by my husband and his friends who demonstrated absolutely no regard for silence. Han Jisung was the worst of them all, waltzing into the library in stride to ask for whatever set of books he needed for his English classes. While I prepared the cart, he would talk relentlessly about everything from his ex-girlfriends to the much-dreaded topic of his endless stories about Hyunjin’s wilder days back in college. “I wish you could’ve been there, Y/N,” Jisung would snort. “Hyunjin took shots like they were water.”

“Yes, I know,” I would grumble while ordering him to leave the library before the remaining students were permanently traumatized.

And when Hyunjin would visit me, which seemed unnecessary considering he taught dance classes, he always made sure to completely take over my office, feet propped up on my desk while pouting at me to sit on his lap. Which was the opposite of professional considering the masses of students lingering around the bookshelves. But that never seemed to deter Hyunjin who always found a new and creative excuse to visit the library.

Like begging me to allow him to use my coffee machine.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin said, following me as I navigated the complicated filing system in the backroom. “I’m only asking because Jisung broke the one in the teacher’s lounge! And you know it might take weeks before they purchase a replacement.”

“Interesting,” I said, thumbing across the file tabs. “We have a coffee machine at home, don’t we, babe?”

Hyunjin was quiet for a moment. “But what if I need more coffee later on?”

“One cup should be enough,” I nodded. “Caffeine isn’t good for you.”

“It’s actually great for me,” Hyunjin said. “If I didn’t have coffee, then I would be completely shut down by lunchtime.”

“I seriously doubt that,” I objected with a laugh.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin tried again. “As your husband-”

“- is that supposed to convince me?”

Hyunjin frowned. “I’ll clean the dishes and do the laundry until the machine in the lounge is fixed.”

I perked up instantly. “Well, I suppose I can make an exception for you...”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, starting for the small kitchen connected to my office. “I should have unlimited access.”

“And I should treat all my coworkers the same.”

“I’m offended, Y/N, please don’t tell me you’re sleeping with the other teachers.”

I glared at him. “For your information, you’re the one who's always touting professionalism in the workplace.”

“But that was before I started to miss you during the day,” Hyunjin said, adjusting the settings on my coffee machine. “You have a safe haven in the library.”

“It gets the job done,” I said, joining him at the machine. “Did you know we had a new student at school?”

“Yang Jeongin?” he asked, pulling back his mug to take a sip. “He’s in my first-period dance class.”

“That’s him,” I nodded. “I noticed that always comes in here during lunch. Do you think he has any friends?”

“I don’t know,” Hyunjin mused. “I don’t see him interacting with his classmates.”

I shivered because the topic at hand reminded me too strongly of my own experiences in high school. “I feel bad for him.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, babe,” Hyunjin reassured me. “If it makes you feel better, then I could talk to him tomorrow?”

“Would you do that for me?” I asked, holding on to his arm.

“Of course,” Hyunjin said. “Unlike you, I don’t ask for much when I’m doing something nice for my spouse.”

“Who else is going to keep you in check?” I asked him, pushing myself off from the counter.

Hyunjin gave my ass a polite swat on my way out the door. “Remember that we’re meeting Jisung and his new girlfriend for dinner.”

I groaned at the reminder. “Explain to me again, babe, why do we have to do that?”

“Because he’s my best friend,” Hyunjin said. “And he’s trying to make things less awkward.”

“Are we going to show up for all of his dates?” I asked. “To keep things less awkward?”

“You’re honestly just as dramatic as I am,” Hyunjin commented. “He’s only asking me for a small favor, and...” He leaned in to whisper in my ear. “If you’re a good girl, then I might reward you when we get home later.”

I swallowed hard. “It’s been a while since we’ve been out, hasn’t it?”

Hyunjin grinned at my willing compliance.

Han Jisung’s new girlfriend was...interesting, to say the least. She arrived with her arm tucked securely around Jisung’s while dressed in a bright pink mini-skirt and lime green crop-top that left very little to the imagination. The moment she walked into the restaurant, every pair of eyes watched as she shimmied through the tables, greeting Hyunjin and I like we had known each other since childhood. “You guys look great!” she exclaimed, leaning across the table to offer my cheek a polite tap. “Girl, you have to tell me who does your hair.”

“Oh...” I trailed off, glancing at Hyunjin anxiously because my husband had forgotten to mention that we were meeting an eccentric child. Because Jisung’s girlfriend didn’t look a day over the legal age.

“I’m Hailey,” she announced, smacking her gum obnoxiously.

Meanwhile, Jisung was smiling like an idiot. “I hope we’re not late.”

“Of course not,” Hyunjin said and I rolled my eyes since apparently being half an hour late for your reservation was perfectly acceptable.

“Holy shit, you look like a runway model!” Haily declared, pointing at Hyunjin with exaggerated motions. “Honey, you didn’t tell me that you were friends with someone this gorgeous.”

I frowned at the comment while Hyunjin just shifted uncomfortably next to me. “Thank you?”

“Jinnie’s always been a lady killer,” Jisung said, pulling out Hailey’s chair before taking the seat next to Hyunjin.

“But you’re all married now,” Hailey pouted as if she was actually disappointed with Hyunjin’s marital status despite the fact that she had come here with Jisung.

“2 years,” Hyunjin said with a dramatic flourish of his wrist. “Woohoo!”

“Y’all got kids and stuff right?” Hailey asked, ignoring the waiter who had arrived at our table, clearing his throat to get her attention. Thankfully, Jisung had enough sense to dismiss him with a request for two glasses of water.

“Not yet,” Hyunjin said, more attentive now that the topic had switched to a topic that he favored. “We’re planning on having two or three.”

I kept my mouth firmly shut because Hyujin was clearly living in an alternate universe. “That’s amazing,” Haily gushed, leaning into Jisung. “Did you hear that, Sungie? Isn’t that like the ultimate dream?”

“Is it?” Jisung questioned, offering Haily a gentle kiss. “Do you want kids someday?”

“A whole house full of them,” Hailey exclaimed and Hyunjin offered me a shit-eating grin like that somehow proved that I was in the wrong for denying him any children.

“We’re still talking about it,” I effectively inserted.

“Sungie tells me that you’re both teachers,” she continued, driving the conversation in an entirely new direction.

“I’m a librarian technician,” I said. “Hyunjin teaches dance.”

“Wow,” Hailey gushed. “That’s so cool, Hyunjin.”

I grimaced because apparently, Librarians weren’t as qualified to be considered cool. “I’m lucky that I have such willing students,” Hyunjin said, nodding appreciatively.

Sometimes, Hyunjin loved being the center of attention.

“I’m in like some sort of dance club at my university,” Hailey said and I nearly choked on my wine.

“You’re in college?” Hyunjin asked, flashing Jisung a reprimanding look that sent the younger into a rapid explanation.

“She’s a Senior,” Jisung said as if that made everything better. “You’re graduating soon, right babe?”

“Supposedly,” Hailey said, making a mess of the breadsticks in the center of the table. “I have to somehow pass this boring math lecture first.”

Hyunjin was not convinced and neither was I considering Jisung’s problematic history of dating younger girlfriends. “How long have you been with Jisung?”

“I don’t know,” Haily shrugged indifferently. “Maybe two weeks.”

“And are you staying on campus, Hailey?” I asked the young girl who nodded affirmatively.

“Jisung wants me to move in though,” Hailey said and that was the last straw for Hyunjin who abruptly stood from the table.

“Jisung,” my husband murmured quietly. “Let’s talk outside for a moment.”

Jisung bowed his head, cheeks flushed because he knew that Hyunjin was moments away from one of his famous lectures. “Okay.”

Hailey was silent until they were out of earshot. “That was weird, right?”

I feigned indifference, even as my mind thought up several creative ways to kick Jisung’s ass for trying things out with someone who was at least ten years younger than him. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if said significant other was employed at some kind of big business as opposed to the salon next to her university. But I didn’t want to let Hailey know that anything was amiss, so I reached across to grab her hand. “Everything’s fine.”

Internally, I was screaming at the top of my lungs.

I woke up to the feeling of Hyunjin’s hard erection pressing against my ass. “Babe,” I groaned, attempting to fend off the lingering effects of sleep.

Hyunjin grunted from behind me, drawing his hips in methodical circles. “What?”

“Your dick,” was all I could manage before yawning over my words.

“Fuck, I was having a good dream,” Hyunjin whined. “Remember that bathing suit you wore on our honeymoon?”

“The bikini?”

“Yeah, I still think about it a lot.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re hard because of my bathing suit?”

“More precisely, you in the bathing suit.”

“Whatever,” I said, rubbing my face against my pillow. “The alarm hasn’t gone off yet.”

“That gives us time,” Hyunjin said suggestively, drawing a hand along the contour of my hip bone.

“To sleep.”

“No, Y/N,” Hyunjin countered, presence heavy as he drew himself up higher against the headboard. “You don’t even have to do anything.”

“Fine,” I muttered. “But don’t blame me if I fall asleep.”

“You know my dick’s better than that,” Hyunjin said, fussing over my panties as he pulled them down beneath the sheets. His fingers dug into my thigh, lifting my leg to a more comfortable position over his hip. I could feel his cock, thick and prodding, as he adjusted himself behind me.

“Are you ever gonna put it in?” I asked drowsily, wincing at the sudden penetration of his cock inside. “Shit, slow down you animal!”

“Sorry,” he murmured, slowing drawing out before pushing back in at a more acceptable pace.

“Slow is good,” I continued, adrenaline rushing through my sleep-deprived body, reacting to his advances with tentative thrusts back against him.

“It’s good, right?” Hyunjin asked with a touch of arrogance, reaching around me to play with my clit.

“It’s always good,” I said, deciding to satiate his ego for once, especially now that I was fully aroused, cognizant of the heavy drag of Hyunjin’s cock.

His vacant hand wandered up my shirt, teasing a nipple as he continued to punctuate each heavy drag of his cock with a low grunt of effort. “I feel like it’s been ages since we did this.”

“I guess you’re still horny from the ego boost Jisung’s girlfriend gave you last night.”

“What are you talking about?”

I imitated her voice. “Oh, Hyunjin, you must be in great shape from dancing all the time.”

“She’s right,” Hyunjin said, tightening his hold as he kicked his hips aggressively, slamming into me like he was trying to make a point. “Have you seen my thighs, babe?”

“I like to ride them.”

“Fuck,” Hyunjin cursed, pressing even more insistently at my clit while his cock continued to fill my core. “I feel like a teenager again.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don't think I can last much longer either,” I said, panting as Hyunjin started to increase the power of his thrusts, chasing his own orgasm while I focused on the way it felt to be stimulated by his skilled fingers and impressive girth.

“Can I cum inside?” he asked, voice desperate but I remembered that I forgot to take my birth control pill the other day.

“Outside,” I said, reaching back to push against his chest. “I’ll suck your dick.”

“Please,” Hyunjin agreed without hesitation, pulling out with a wince while I tried to steady my shaky legs, straddling his thigh while leaning down for his cock. Hyunjin curled his fingers through my hair, directing my head to the tip, allowing my tongue to get its first taste of his pre-cum.

I hollowed my cheeks, taking in as much of his cock as I could before I felt the tip barely touch the back of my throat. Still, it was enough to make me gag and I pulled back to avoid the risk of walking around school with a sore throat all day. I took the remainder of his cock into my hand, tightening my grip at the base which rewarded me with a loud moan from Hyunjin. Meanwhile, I had slowly started to rock myself back and forth on his thigh, aiming for my own release while trying to encourage Hyunjin to cum down my throat.

“Beautiful,” he said, eyes filled with tears and adoration as he watched me take in more of his cock, nose brushing against his skin.

It only took a few more moments for Hyunjin to finally cum, throwing back his head as his hips jolted against the bed. I swallowed him down with a grimace because I still hated the taste of cum no matter how many times I offered him a blowjob. Pulling off his spent cock, I focused on myself, reaching down to give my clit a few more well-placed strokes before I was following him into a hormone-induced coma.

I fell against his chest, allowing him to run his hand up and down my back. “Babe, you’re my hero.”

I snorted at his comment. “What time is it?”

“We still have five minutes.”

“Good,” I groaned. “I’ll need every second to recover.”

Hyunjin chuckled. “Want to take your mind off it?”

“Maybe,” I said, appreciating his warmth. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Jisung,” Hyunjin said. “I gave him a stern lecture last night.”

“You go, babe.”

“Seriously, I can’t believe he’s dating a college student.”

“The Han Jisung? Nothing he does surprises me.”

“He says he really likes this girl.”

“No offense,” I said. “But I hope that was to defend himself because the girl is a nightmare.”

“Might finally put Jisung in his place.”

“Nobody can do that,” I said, using my arms to leverage myself back into a sitting position. “How bad is my hair?”

“My fingers weren’t helpful.”

“A shower then,” I nodded, glancing back at the bathroom. “You wanna join?”

Hyunjin’s breath caught. “I think you’re spoiling me, babe.”

It had become a recurring pattern, watching Jeongin walk into the library during his scheduled lunch period. Every day, he sat down at one of the computers in the lab to play some kind of online game that I didn’t protest since he wasn’t disturbing the other students. Truthfully, I didn’t really care one way or another, but I was starting to feel like Jeongin was intentionally avoiding his classmates. I understood that it was probably hard to transfer schools, but to attend classes by yourself with no friends to support you?

I shuddered at the thought, making up my mind as I carefully approached him. “Jeongin,” I said, awkwardly leaning against the side of the computer desk. “That was the bell for lunch.”

The younger boy glanced up to me timidly. “Oh, well I thought it was okay for students to spend lunch in the library.”

“It is,” I acknowledged. “But I thought you might want to spend some time with your friends.”

Jeongin ducked his head down, cheeks blushing red. “Not really.”

“Okay,” I said, struggling to finish my thoughts before spotting Hyunjin walking into the library. “I’ll be right back,” I said before practically sprinting to meet Hyunjin in my office. “Come here,” I said, pulling him to the side. “We have a problem.”

“I know,” he said with tired eyes. “I have no coffee.”

“Hyunjin,” I chastised him quietly. “That new kid always spends his lunch period in the library. He says he’s not interested in hanging out with anyone.”

“Well, that’s his choice,” Hyunjin said. “Some kids are really shy.”

“I know,” I grumbled. “But you know I was the same way in high school and I regret it now, hiding in the library during lunch because I had nobody to sit with.”

“You were a nerd too,” Hyunjin giggled.

“Do you want to keep using the coffee machine?”

“Sorry, babe.”

“Anyway,” I continued. “I think we should help Jeongin make some new friends. What about group activities in your dance classes?”

“I guess,” Hyunjin relented. “But I don’t want to force him.”

“You assign the groups then,” I said. “And let me know how he reacts.”

“Well, just based on what I’ve seen so far, he definitely prefers to be alone.”

“Then we have to reach out to him,” I said, holding tight to Hyunjin’s arm. “Nobody should be alone all the time.”

“He may not like it if we try to force him into something.”

“Then we back off if he shows any signs of being uncomfortable,” I said, raising my hands in surrender. “A compromise.”

“If you really insist,” Hyunjin said, gliding past me for the coffee machine. “I’ll do my best, and I’ll let Chan and the others know.”

“Oh!” I gasped. “That’s a great idea! I can talk to the other teachers in the lounge!”

Hyunjin chuckled. “I thought you hated the teacher’s lounge?”

“Yeah? Well, I’m making an exception for the betterment of a student,” I proclaimed, waiting until Hyunjin finished refilling his coffee mug before ushering him out into the hallway. “Who’s usually in there?” I asked as we walked together.

“Jisung,” Hyunjin said. “Maybe Chan and Felix.”

“Chan and Jisung might be helpful,” I conceded. “What about Felix? Does Jeongin take art classes?”

“Babe, I don’t have his schedule memorized.”

“That’s first on the list,” I said with a nod.

We both paused outside the lounge as I attempted to listen in on the conversation progressing behind closed doors. “Who is that?”

Hyunjin chuckled, reaching past me for the door handle. He pushed it open wide, allowing us enough room to join the small group of teachers loitering between scheduled classes. “Y/N!” Jisung immediately greeted me, waltzing over to take my arm. “You never come in the lounge.”

“I’m making an exception,” I said, allowing Jisung to pull me to the table where Chan, Felix, and Changbin were all sitting together.

“You guys,” I said, sliding into an available seat. “What’s going on?”

Changbin eyed me suspiciously. “You never come here unless you want something.”

From behind my chair, Hyunjin snorted. “It’s one hell of a mission.”

“I knew it!” Felix declared, leaning back in his chair. “What sort of personal vendetta do you have now?”

“I’m offended,” I said, crossing my arms sternly over my chest. “Aren’t we all friends?”

“Of course we are, Y/N,” Chan said soothingly, ever the voice of reason.

“Exactly,” I agreed. “Which is why I need your help.”

Felix groaned, but I quickly jumped in to assure him. “It’s about that new kid, Yang Jeongin.”

“What about him?” Changbin grunted. “Other than the fact that he hates running exercises.”

“He’s taking gym?”

Changbin nodded, picking at the meager salad in front of him. “I don’t understand why.”

“Because it’s destiny,” I said, holding out my arms. “We’re meant to help guide him down the right path.”

“What path is that?” Changbin asked.

“The path of redemption,” I said, elbowing Hyunjin from behind when I heard him laughing. “He’s always in the library during free periods. I don’t think he’s adjusting to the school.”

“It happens with transfers,” Felix shrugged.

“But we can do something to help him,” I said. “Encourage him to make new friends and meet new classmates.”

“You want us to help with your ‘No Child Left’ behind agenda?” Changbin asked.

“I want you to help me lift a student’s self-confidence,” I said. “Jeongin is a sweet kid. He just needs a good push in the right direction.”

“Basically,” Hyunjin interrupted, leaning over me. “Y/N had no friends in high school and she wishes that there was a kind, sweet librarian with a great ass to help guide her way.”

“Don’t bring my ass into this,” I said, ducking away from his hold. “So what do you guys think?”

Felix sipped at his tea. “He’s not in any of my classes, but I guess it’s worth a shot.”

“Why not?” Jisung suddenly commented. “I think it’s a good idea.”

“You’re just trying to make up for last night’s dinner disaster,” I said, “but I’m willing to let you this time.”

Jisung let out a whoop while Changbin and Chan considered my words. “It’s fine with me,” Chan said. “Changbin?”

“Alright,” Changbin relented. “But this is your fault if the kid turns against us.”

“Trust me, nothing bad is gonna happen.”

A few days later, I received an urgent notice from the nurse’s office which was surprising considering the fact that I was usually stuck in the library all day. I sighed over my ever-growing stack of paperwork, gathering my cell phone before leaving the sanctity of my quiet office. There was an order form calling my name that I had been neglecting for several weeks now, but I figured that the unexpected notice could prove to be a legitimate distraction. After all, I was quite curious concerning why I was suddenly needed away from the library.

I paused outside the door to the nurse’s office, trying to listen to the sounds of conversation. Faint voices filtered through the barrier, including one that sounded awfully familiar. I held my breath as I walked inside, discovering my husband lying on top of the examination table. Hyunjin winced as the school nurse wrapped an ice pack around his ankle. “Fuck it hurts.”

“Hyunjin,” I said his name and my husband turned around to face me with a start. “What happened?”

“Y/N,” Hyunjin cried while reaching out for me. “Why did you take so long?”

“Really?” I immediately questioned him. “Babe, you’re the one with a bandage on your foot.”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I twisted my ankle.”

I closed my eyes before releasing a sigh. “How did this happen?”

“Student-teacher race,” Hyunjin replied as if that possibly provided enough context for me to understand.

“A race?”

“Changbin thought it might be fun if the students competed against the teachers,” Hyunjin explained. “Like a reward.”

“You’re rewarding the students by putting your life in danger?”

“My life was never in danger, Y/N,” Hyunjin said with a sigh.

“Then why are you hurt?” I asked him, reaching over to land a scolding hit to his arm.

“Hey!” Hyunjin complained, holding his bicep now despite the ice packet still resting over his ankle.

“You idiot,” I groaned. “You aren’t 16 anymore. Why are you trying to outrace a bunch of student-athletes anyway?”

“Maybe I did it for you,” Hyunjin announced dramatically, falling rather ungracefully against the table.

“Why is participating in a race so important to me?”

“You said you wanted to get closer to that Jeongin kid,” Hyunjin explained. “He asked me to run with them.”

“Jeongin did?” I asked, suddenly unable to stop myself from laughing, practically slumping over Hyunjin’s lap.

“What’s so funny?”

“I may have told him a funny story about his dance instructor from your college days.”

Hyunjin gasped. “You didn’t!”

I shrugged. “I was trying to make him feel better.”

“By outing my humiliating secrets?”

“It was a worthy sacrifice, babe,” I said with a grin. “Just be glad I wasn’t there to watch it happen.”

“You’re always so supportive,” Hyunjin said, faintly protesting when I leaned down to offer him a gentle kiss. “Is this an apology?”

“I’m really proud of you, Hyunjin,” I said, reaching down to adjust the pillow propping his ankle.

“Whatever,” Hyunjin grumbled. “The kid was important to you.”

“But you didn’t have to go that far,” I said, gliding my fingers through his hair because I knew he loved the action.

“Maybe you can blow me later and all will be forgiven.”

“Done.”

The following week, I spotted Jeongin walking through the library on his way to class. He paused at one of the bookshelves, fingers skimming the faded spines. “Hey!” I said, catching his attention. “You weren’t in the library yesterday.”

“I know,” he said with a wide smile. “I was eating with some friends.”

My heart warmed at his words. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, eyes trained downward. “They seem pretty cool.”

“Jeongin,” I cooed because it was impossible to resist his adorable smile. “I’m really glad to hear that.”

“I know you had something to do with it,” the younger boy said and my smile instantly disappeared. “But it’s okay, I’m really glad you decided to help me.”

“Jeongin..” I started but broke off when I took a moment to study the crooked aspect to his knowing grin.

The doors to the library interrupted the brief silence that had descended between us, and Chan walked in with his eyes scanning over a folder that he held between his hands. “Ah! I’m interrupting something,” he said, looking back and forth between me and Jeongin.

“Oh, I was on my way out,” Jeongin said, bowing respectfully to Chan as he passed him.

Chan watched him go before looking to me for answers. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” I said, quickly switching the subject. “Did you need something?”

“Just a class copy of these books,” Chan said, holding up his folder. “Do you think you can help me bring them back to my classroom?”

“Why not?” I shrugged, taking the folder from Chan. “I have some free time before I have to file a few things.”

I guided Chan around the library to collect the books on his list, casually talking with him about one of the new teachers in the Science department. “Minho?” I said, vacantly scanning the barcodes of a display with textbooks.

“Yeah, he’s starting next week,” Chan said, grunting as he adjusted his hold on the giant stack of books collecting in his arms.

“Should be interesting,” I said, adding one last textbook to the pile in Chan’s arms. “Is this everything?”

“I hope so,” Chan grumbled. “Do you need my teacher ID?”

“I’ll scan it later,” I said, watching him struggle. “Let’s go before these end up on the floor.”

Chan let out a grateful sigh, and I maintained a careful distance at his side to ensure that my precious books wouldn’t suddenly drop from his hold. Thankfully, Chan seemed to have everything under control, like he was prone to do in most aspects of his life for which I was grateful. “Jeongin’s doing much better,” Chan remarked to me in passing as we walked together to his classroom.

“Yeah, he really seems to be opening up, especially after Hyunjin’s stunt in the gym.”

Chan snorted at the reminder. “I wish you could have been there, Y/N. But, if you’re curious, Changbin has the whole incident on video.”

“I’d love to see that...” I trailed off, spotting Hyunjin approaching on his new crutches.

“You know, I could hear you all the way over here!”

“Hyunjin,” I said, meeting him halfway so that he wouldn’t need to walk as far. “I was planning to come by and see you.”

“My arms hurt constantly,” Hyunjin said, adjusting his stance. “Honestly, I don’t even think these things are necessary.”

“Doctor’s orders,” I said swiftly, directing a quick goodbye to Chan before I was redirecting Hyunjin back to his classroom. “And don’t even try to demonstrate any crazy dance choreographies for these kids.”

“How else are they gonna learn?” Hyunjin demanded, even as he leaned more of his weight against my side for additional support.

Later that night, after a rather long day of ensuring that Hyunjin didn’t try to do anything too outrageous, the two of us finally returned home. I was rather proud of myself since Hyunjin was still in one piece. I half-expected to receive another call from the nurse’s office because my husband decided he needed to show off his moonwalk to impress his students.

In any case, what Hyunjin didn’t know was that I had started thinking a lot about the future, especially after everything that he did to help Jeongin. Suddenly, the idea of having kids was a lot less unappealing. This is why I immediately started for the bathroom, a new purpose driving my steps, while Hyunjin carefully made his way across the living room.

I opened the medicine cabinet to retrieve a familiar box, returning to our shared bedroom to find Hyunjin laying in bed, phone in hand as his eyelids fought to stay open. Gingerly, I handed him my current prescription of birth control, watching as he struggled to focus. “What’s this?”

“Surprise!”

“Isn’t there an easier way to tell me that you’re running low?”

I rolled my eyes at his question. “That’s not what I meant.”

Hyunin frowned, taking the box from me. “It’s almost 9:00, Y/N.”

“You’re really bad at subliminal messages,” I said, kneeling down on the bed. “I’m giving the rest of the prescription to you because I’m not taking it anymore.”

Hyunjin’s eyes slowly widened as he processed my words. “But that means...

“I don’t mind the idea of kids anymore,” I said. “Especially if they turn out like Jeongin.”

“Y/N,” Hyunjin grinned, wordlessly tackling me against the bed. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I am,” I informed him, tracing my fingers across his pretty lips. “I want to have kids with you. Preferably a boy, so we should start eating a ton of potassium.”

“What?”

“To increase our chances, Hyunjin,” I said. “There’s science behind the kind of diet you eat.”

“You’re trying to tell me that if I eat more potassium, then we’ll have a boy?”

“Well, it helps our chances.”

Hyunjin still appeared doubtful, but his eyes were warm. “Whatever you want.”

“That’s right,” I agreed brightly, wrapping my arms around his neck to draw him in closer.

“Y/N, I love you,” Hyunjin said, leaning down for a sweet kiss. “You know how much this means to me.”

“I know,” I agreed, snuggling up against his chest. “For the record, I love you more.”

“Should we put that to the test?”

I closed my eyes as I resisted a smile. “Goodnight, Hyunjin.”

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stay kids smut #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin smut

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thethousandyearwitch · 3 years

Text

The Show Must Go On! Chap. 7

- A Youtuber AU you didn’t want and didn’t need -

Hisoka Morrow, italian Makeup Youtuber, enjoys his life in the comfort and occasional drama of his profession. But nothing brings more drama into his life than the eldest son of the Zoldyck fashion magazine empire.

Meanwhile, aspiring australian Twitch Streamer Gon Freecs forms a special bond to a Speedrunner commonly going by "Kil".

Chapter 7 “Montero” out now!

AO3 Link

What could be worse than taking care of a teenage boy who is developing a steady video game addiction?

There was a loud bang coming from the room above the kitchen, followed by laughter and cackling. The boys were in Gons room and tried their hardest to set up the sleeping cod. They refused help, naturally, convinced that they are just as capable, confidence heightened by being in each other’s presence, hyping each other up, and the consumption of their own body weight in burgers.

Another bang. A shriek. More laughter. Mito sighed so deeply that she feared a piece of her soul might have left her.

Taking care of TWO teenage boys who are developing a steady video game addiction.

Her phone vibrated with a new message. Gon had sent her a selfie of himself and Killua on the cot, which seemed to be standing securely. The boys were flexing their arm muscles (or lack thereof) with proud looks on their faces, and the only caption was “#success”. Well, at least they are having fun.

Bellissimo<3: Good morning. I am going to pick you up at 1pm, be dressed by then, and pack your bag for tonight’s show. We are going for a brief detour.

Hisoka stretched out on his bed and squinted at the too-bright phone screen. It was 10 in the morning, though the rooms curtains were drawn shut tightly as a defence against harsh sunlight. A lazy smile spread on his lips.

Hisoka: Are we finally running away together to get married in Las Vegas? I thought you’d never ask~~❤️

Bellisssimo<3: I am trying to reward you for not getting arrested last night.

Bellissimo<3: Do not make me regret this.

Hisoka: I should avoid getting arrested more often ❤️

Bellissimo<3: 1pm Hisoka. See you then.

Hisoka let his phone drop back into pillow-mountain. This was certainly an interesting surprise, and an opportunity that the make up artist wasn’t going to waste. Getting One-on-One time with the Zoldyck was something precious and rare to him. Because Illumi was a rarity himself. In a world of increasingly bland and repetitive personalities, especially in his field of work, Illumi presented a challenge of raw potential. Cold and calculated to the masses, an obedient dog to his family, a revolutionary in his work. Hisoka knew that he must be hiding so much more, and the more walls he encountered with the man, the more he wanted to tear them down with his bare hands. Hisoka hated calling whatever this was a ‘Crush’. Sure, he was affectionate towards the other man, and at this point he couldn’t deny the pleasant twist of his heart whenever they touched. But he didn’t yearn for lazy Sundays in bed together, didn’t want the peaceful domesticity that seemed to be inherited in being a ‘couple’.

What do I want?

Hisoka pulled himself out of bed, and made his way to the shower, determined to abandon this pesky train of thought. There was no point in pondering the unlikely. Though… Illumi had been indulging him. And he was going to indulge him again this day. Maybe he wasn’t the only one getting soft, even if neither would ever admit it. The thought brought another satisfied smirk to his lips as he massaged his favourite shampoo into his scalp.

He wondered how Illumis family would react, hypothetically, if they were to end up a couple. The eldest son of the Zoldycks, not just gay, but in a relationship with a makeup artist who is famous for starting drama whenever possible. They certainly would be a more feared and adored couple than if Illumi were to marry some busty heiress who hooks up with her tennis coach when he’s away.

Silva Zoldyck would drop dead right on the spot if Hisoka would ask him if he should call him dad, he was sure.

He stepped out of the steamy shower and mustered his refreshed face in the mirror. Maybe that’s all he wanted. To form something with Illumi that would be even more powerful than the Zoldyck empire, to make everyone else envy/fear/adore them. They had the capacity and the ability to do so, no doubt.

Or maybe he just wanted to have something he wasn’t supposed to have.

Hisoka shrugged to himself, before he went over his usual beauty routine. Today could prove very interesting.

12:45 pm, Hisoka leaned on his kitchen island, absentmindedly scrolled through social media to beat time. Illumi wasn’t going to be late, but he’s never been early either.

He decided to go with a casual look, fitted beige khakis, with an oxford blue button up, sleeves rolled up just above his elbows, debated with himself on how far unbuttoned would be appropriate-yet-slutty (Top 3 Buttons unbuttoned, was the conclusion). Under his eyes, rested on his cheekbones, he had painted his signature star and teardrop, eyebrows plucked to perfection, and after 10 tries he managed to get a satisfying cat eye done. It was perfectly normal to want to look like hell on wheels while meeting with your friend-partner-associate-crush-insertsatisfactoryterm.

The afternoons were always the worst time to check social media, the calm before the posting-storm that comes during the evening and night. Hisoka had already reached posts that were done last night, a few screenshots taken here and there for future reference and roasting purposes.

Almost fed up with endless scrolling, suddenly it appeared. Hisoka had followed a twitch streamer on twitter recently, some kid who was definitely going to screw up in some point of his career (they always do, when the fame gets to their heads), and didn’t want to miss that mess. “Foxbeargaming”, what the fuck is even a foxbear, he had thought.

He had seen the brat before, in his profile picture and clips of his streams. But that wasn’t the problem with the newly posted selfie.

The problem was that he also recognized the second brat in it. Remembered the way Illumi boasted about his talented little brother, the same wild hair and blue eyes as he showed him a picture of the kid. Killua Zoldyck is currently in the middle of nowhere Australia, and his family most likely doesn’t know about it.

Oh, this will be delicious.

Hisokas day had been upgraded from surprisingly interesting to extremely entertaining if everything were to go smoothly. Immediately revealing to Illumi before their date that his little brother is out in the desert trying to tame himself a boyfriend wouldn’t do either of them good. Let it simmer, let it fester, keep Illumi away from his phone the rest of the day.

Lost in his scheming, he just barely noticed that the clock hit 1pm. He grabbed his bag from the floor and stuffed his phone into his back pocket before he headed out the door.

Hisoka wasn’t sure what he expected, yet he was taken aback by the sight in front of him as he exited the apartment complex.

Illumi leaned leisurely against a black sports car, as if that were his only purpose in life. His sleek hair was tied into a neat ponytail, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Hisoka let his eyes take in every detail of him. Peridot green jeans, fashionably washed out, paired with a simple grey polo shirt, the collar popped open just enough to reveal more neck than usual.

“Are you waiting on an invitation?” Illumi didn’t sound as agitated as he probably intended, giving Hisoka only more reason to push his luck.

“I was thinking about whether I want to pounce on you now or later.” He approached the other man, who in turn straightened up his posture in defence. But instead of any hostile movements, Hisoka simply took Illumis hand, and bought it to his lips for a caste kiss. “But I’d rather not spoil our date this early.”

Illumi pulled his hand away, though maybe with a second’s hesitation. “Not happening, also not a date. Get in the car before I change my mind.”

The car was equipped with fabric seats, which Hisoka was grateful for in the Italian heat. “Maybe I should film one of those Vlogs today, what do you think of the title ‘Partner takes me away for secret date’?”

“What about ‘Multimillionaire kicked me out of a speeding car’?”

“Touché.” Now Hisoka was sure that his companion had to be in a good mood, despite what he’d claim, he’d never go along with his jokes if he were feeling neutral-to-pissed otherwise. He rolled his shoulders back into the seat comfortably, golden eyes fixated on the way that Illumis elegant pale hands wrapped around the steering wheel. “I didn’t know you can drive, considering you always have someone to do it for you.”

“I prefer it over flying, and I still consider myself a better driver than half of our staff.”

“I’m sure you’re great at handling stick shift as well.”

“Of co-“Illumi pressed his lips together in sudden annoyance, he most definitely had caught onto Hisokas smirk as he waited for an answer. “That is repulsive.” That prompted the makeup artist to break out into self-satisfied snickering.

“No clue what you’re talking about, Tesoro.” This earned him an eye roll, and silence as the car made its way through mostly empty streets. Hisokas eyes fell onto Illumis phone that rested on the console of the car. “Ah, I’m sure mister multimillionaire has Spotify Premium, right? Let me turn on some music.”

“Use your own phone.”

“I ran out of data volume. Are you that afraid I’ll discover your disastrous music taste?” His teasing smirk was met with another, more defeated eyeroll and a sigh.

“Don’t play anything trashy. The passcode is 0707.” After a questioning silence, he added “It’s Killuas birthday.”

Hisoka replied with an appreciative purr, before he started scrolling through the others music library. No personal playlists, not even a profile picture attached to his account. He was almost offended at the man’s lack of care for something as deeply personal as ones Spotify account, something that surely could tell a lot about a person. “Tchaikovsky? I’m not sure if I am impressed or utterly bored. Oh-“ His eyes stopped on a familiar album cover. “Maybe you’re not a lost cause after all, dear.”

A button press later, and the familiar opening sounds to Tame Impalas “Currents” played. The faintest trace of a smile curled on Illumis lips, barely noticeable, but Hisoka wanted to burn it into his mind anyway. Never mind that he took the brief distraction to turn the others phone onto silent mode. No unnecessary distractions.

It took the rest of the album until Illumi pulled the car into the exit towards the nature reserve near Lago di Bracciano, the last notes of “New Person, Same old Mistakes” dying together with the engine as they parked.

Hisoka stretched at the warm sunlight that caressed his skin when he exited the vehicle. Birds sang happily in the trees that lined the path around the large lake, and the only other person in sight was an elderly woman walking a small white dog. As the second car door shut close, he turned around with a pleased smile that showed off his shining teeth. “I never took you for the kind to take afternoon strolls.”

His friend-or-whatever set a relaxed pace onto the path and looked out onto the deep blue water. “I can’t sit around the hotel room the entire day, can I? And Rome is crawling with sweaty tourists and noisy journalists.”

“So you wanted to get some quality time outside?” Hisoka absentmindedly ran his tongue over his own sharp incisors.

“Correct.” Illumi didn’t seem to notice, or at least ignored, the predatory gesture.

“With me.”

He missed a beat before a simple, “It seemed appropriate.”.

This earned him an appreciative purr, before the men walked in silence along the large lake. Italy still wouldn’t reach its heights of temperatures this time of year, but any breeze was still a welcomed change from the rising humidity and sting of the sun. Hisoka wondered how much the others pale skin would change if he’d expose himself for a bit longer to the sun, if he’d immediately burn up in red, or if he’d start to tan, even just the faintest bit. He’d definitely look more alive, less like a puppet on invisible strings.

They continued to walk in a comfortable silence next to each other, took in the different sounds and sights of nature and the others presence, until eventually they reached the border of one of the shore towns. Beautiful stone buildings climbed the side of a smaller hill, only interrupted by greenery sprouting up between them. The main path was lined with flower shops, cafes, and Gelateria, whose smells mixed into a pleasant sweetness in the air. But one store in particular stood out. It wasn’t super flashy, it could have been found in any city and any street, but Hisoka knew this one from memory.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the others hand, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

“Excuse me-“ Before he could free his hand, Hisoka intertwined their fingers and pulled him closer.

“Let me treat you to something as well, I promise you won’t regret it,amore.” As his flaming eyes were met with a wrinkled nose, the sunshades Illumi were as not-telling as his eyes, he added “If you do regret it, I’ll gladly let you drown me right here.”

There was hesitation as the other mans wrist twitched against his hold. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

The absence of a struggle was still taken as accepting whatever had gotten him so excited, and thus Illumi was quickly pulled and seated outside the small café. Hisokas attitude had changed from a lazy yet scheming happiness, to pure, unfiltered excitement. It became almost impossible for him to sit still, he rapidly tapped his fingernails against the small glass table, until a waitress (in her mid-40s, he assumed) stepped out. She handed the men a small, leather bound menu, though both were immediately snatched by Hisoka and held back towards her.

“Non sarà necessario. Ordineremo la Cheesecake alla fragola. Grazie.”

“Certamente.” The woman replied with a smile, before she retreated into the shop.

“Cheesecake?” Illumi asked with a raised eyebrow, he had taken off his sunglasses by now and placed them on the table.

Hisoka tutted, “Not any Cheesecake, dear, it is the best Cheesecake you will ever have. I will have it at my wedding, funeral, and every occasion in between that.”

“I take it you’ve been here before.”

“When I had just moved to Rieti, I’d come here almost every weekend, though I unfortunately stopped when weekends became workdays as well.” He considered carefully how much more he was willing to share about that time of his life with the other, though the decision was taken off him as the waitress approached with two plates, each adorned with a generous slice of cheesecake, topped with strawberry slices and strawberry jam dripping off it.

His jaw clenched in anticipation as he watched Illumi take the first bite of the cake, reminiscent of all the rituals he’d do for him whenever he visited. It felt degrading to admit that he wanted to impress and gain the approval of the Zoldyck, but not degrading enough to stop the attention seeking behaviour.

A bite. Some careful chewing. Averted eyes because Hisoka was staringbut he did not care. He swallowed.

Illumi didn’t look at him as he spoke, seemingly engrossed in studying the décor of the shop. But his eyes betrayed him, Hisoka swore he saw something within the dark orbs glisten and flash to life. He didn’t know people could smile only with their eyes, but Illumi continued to be different in the most intoxicating way. “It’s… really good.”

Hisoka tried hard not to pick up his train of thought from the morning, tried not to think about what he wanted from Illumi or a relationship, and he especially tried not to think about the growing urge to leap across the table at that very moment to kiss him until their lips were sore. Instead, he started to eat his own cake, and failed to supress his sharpened smile.

They ate mostly in silence, safe for Hisokas muffled crazed snickering, and ordered espresso to chase down the thick cake.

“Hey, let’s play a game. What is wrong with that woman over there?” Hisoka pointed at a blonde who rested against a railing near the lake.

Illumi seemed to consider for a second whether he even wanted to play a weird game like that, before he stopped mid espresso-sip. “Ah. Those red heels are obviously spray-painted on.”

“Bingo~! It’s super obvious, right? You can still see the black shine through.”

“I’m more concerned about the uneven stitching on her shirt. Either she did that herself, or she has gotten scammed.”

Somehow that conversation triggered them to analyse the fashion choices of every stranger they encountered on their way back to the car with increasingly devilish tones. Illumi Zoldyck was a surprisingly good gossiper, and Hisoka filed that fact into the growing corner of his brain that he reserved just for him.

In the car, Illumi informed him they would just head to his hotel room to get dressed for the show, and then head there together. Any attempt at a joke about spending hotel-room-time wisely was, expectedly, cut off.

Illumi had never focused on the road this much in his entire life. He tried to be grateful that they had managed to get ready for the show in his hotel room without any major incidents, but now Hisoka was seated next to him again, wearing the suit he made for him. He looked good, annoyingly so. Naturally, Illumi wouldn’t grant him the satisfaction of telling him that though. He had indulged the man plenty enough for that day already and was holding back from chastising himself for it.

Last night had made him soft, Illumi decided. A brief waver of confidence and self-preservation that made him want to spend one-on-one time with Hisoka, in what may have resembled friendship to an outsider.

But his head was clearer now, cleansed from whatever foolishness had overcome him – the image of his mother recovering from a coughing fit and regaining her composure crept itself into his mind. Unrelated, he thought, though cleared his throat regardless.

“Machi says the crowd tonight is dreadful. Do you think she is just saying that to keep me from going~?” Hisoka tapped his long nails against the screen of his phone. Machi was a model they both have worked with in the past, though she was no where close to a breakthrough. A pretty face, objectively spoken, though smaller than most models, and the personality of royalty about to be executed. Do they always text each other?

“She’s there as well today?” He tried not to sound bitter. He didn’t have a reason to be bitter.

“Mhm, she’s modelling for a friend of hers it seems, though all the examples she sent me looked like someone with a priest-kink designed them, so it doesn’t hurt as much that she didn’t hire me as her artist.”

A moment of silence. “I see.” Illumi was not going to indulge Hisoka even more by inquiring about the nature of his relationship to the woman. It did not concern him; it wasn’t relevant to him or his work.

“Illumi?” Hisoka leaned over in his seat, golden eyes piercing into the side of his face.

“Yes, Hisoka?” Just now he noticed that he had been clenching his jaw uncomfortably.

“Are you jealous of Machi?” He didn’t need to look to know that Hisoka was smiling from one ear to the other, voice dripping with joy. He wasn’t going to look at Hisoka.

“You are insane. Why would I be jealous of her? I pity the girl, still having to work as a favour for acquaintances.”

Predatory eyes continued to drill into him, and a dangerous purr escaped the man, “Is that so?”.

“Yes, don’t be ridiculous.” They pulled into the valet line.

“Then you surely won’t mind that she’ll meet us in the entrance hall, wonderful!”

Illumi shouldn’t mind. It should be perfectly fine that instead of spending the evening alone with Hisoka, a good-looking young woman with an unclear relationship to him would meet them. He definitely couldn’t be jealous; it would be irrational and yet-

He threw the keys to the car at the valet and grabbed the number-marker without a word. His face wouldn’t give it away to others, that he was practically fuming, but Hisoka seemed to take pleasure in the subtle way that Illumis facial features tightened. “I heard jealousy can give you wrinkles~” Hisoka whispered cheekily as they approached the venue entrance, rows of reporters and interviewers lined at the sides, even more so than at the opening day before.

“You must have a lot of experience with that.” He hissed in reply and straightened his posture as they passed the crowd, mostly reporters who desperately tried to take pictures of attendees. Pictures, Interviews, all loathsome cries for attention that Illumi has always tried to avoid as much as possible without damaging the families reputation. He looked down the carpeted entrance and spotted the young woman known as Machi Komacine, clothed in a painfully tight black dress adorned with rosaries draped around her waist like belts, her messy pink hair pulled into a high ponytail. Her posture signalled boredom, but her eyes screamed murder.

Illumi was not a man who easily feared anyone, especially not a woman who stands at 5’2 proud; But he also was not necessarily thrilled to approach her. As he tried to hiss something in Hisokas direction again, something about not having much time to chat with their acquaintance due to meeting a client, he noticed: The other man had stayed behind, and was now busy posing for numerous cameras. Their eyes met, and with a mischievous grin, Hisoka held his hand out to beckon Illumi closer. For Pictures. Together.

Take pictures with Hisoka together in a public appearance that will most definitely set the gears of the rumour mill in motion; Or approach Machi alone and run the risk of uncomfortable conversation about our respective relationships to Hisoka?

He looked back at Machi, whose eyes met his instantly with a raised eyebrow. Fucking Hell-

Illumi made his way back to Hisoka, casually disregarded the hand that was held out to him and positioned himself as practiced – left arm leisurely to the side, right arm three quarters across his front. Not too strict, but not too relaxed either. In contrast, Hisoka had his left hand in the pocket of his suit, his right hand rested on Illumis shoulder as if were the most natural thing in the world. Journalists started to yell even more for their attention now, asking pesky questions that he tried to ignore, telling them to stand closer to each other, the likes. He kept the façade of his neutral face through the blinding flashes intact, even as Hisoka snaked his arms from his shoulder around his waist. “Do you wish for a public execution?”

“It looks better for the pictures~”

Illumi brushed a few strands of hairs behind his shoulder and used the motion to glance back to where Machi was waiting, her steady gaze on the two of them. “It’s rude to let her wait.”

“How considerate you are!” Hisoka snickered. “I know you aren’t jealous, caro, but I’d still like to reassure you of something.”

“And what’s that?”

“Machi and I look for, how should I say, very different things in a partner.” He tugged at Illumi waist and pulled him closer. “She’s looking for women and I am not.”

“Oh.” Illumi continued to look at the reporters cooing for their attention, as he tried not to think of the warm hand on his waist that felt searing hot and- Wait.

“OH.” He turned in Hisokas hold to properly look at him, who in turned grinned like the cat that ate the canary, then he looked back to Machi, and suddenly he felt stupid, which he didn’t experience a lot.

“Feeling relieved, even though you definitely weren’t jealous?”

“I think they got enough pictures.”

Illumi heard Hisokas snickering trail behind him as he made his way down the entrance. Machis eyes met his again, hands steady on her hips. Up closer now, he could observe the details of her dress, white seams stitched into crucifixes that crept up the sides, and the number “3” painted on every bead of the rosaries. It was cleanly executed, but Illumi was confident in the superiority of his own work.

“Miss Komacine.” He extended his hand to her, which she shook half-heartedly.

“Illumi. I’d like to get to business talk right away, so I don’t have to look at this clown longer than necessary.”

“Business talk?”

The young woman lit a cigarette for herself and shot a glare to Hisoka. “I assume you didn’t tell him I wanted to speak with him?” This granted her only a shrug and a smile from the man. “Fine, whatever. Illumi, I want to model for your next line, it would proof beneficial for both of us.”

“I don’t deal in women’s fashion. Furthermore, I do not see how I’d gain benefits from having you work for me.” Finally, a topic he felt comfortable to speak about, even it was only to criticize the woman for her awful attempt at business.

“I don’t mind wearing a suit, you should be at least competent enough to make smaller sizes, right?” She stepped closer to push a sharp index finger against his chest. “And about those benefits; Having me model for you would give me more exposure from a mainstream crowd, and thus exposure for my group. You would gain exposure to a wider audience of underground fashion-following, that isn’t influenced by your family’s name, meaning you could manifest a name for yourself. Unless you prefer being ‘a Zoldyck’ forever.”

The nerve. The audacity. Illumi considered just calling her a presumptuous cunt and leaving with his pride intact, but Machi looked like the kind of woman who knew how to slice car tires and break-wires.

A manicured hand curled around his shoulder, and Hisoka pushed himself between Machi and him. “What could be better than this; My two favourite people in this world, getting along, talking friendly business. Unfortunately, dear Machi, there’s some people inside that are dying to meet us tonight, so we’ll catch you later~”

Before he could object, Illumi was pushed through the entrance of the venue. The large runway was occupied by a high-end brand that premiered their women’s gala collection, mood-lighting engulfed the rest of the room, rhythmic beats of low music drowned out most of the talking crowd.

“Be a darling and just let her offer simmer a little. Machi can be very scary when she’s mad, and not in the way I enjoy.” Hisoka purred closer to his ear.

“Did you know she was going to ask?”

“What if I did?”

A waiter offered them drinks on a tray, and Illumi leisurely grabbed a glass of champagne.

“What does that even mean, ‘a Zoldyck’, as if it is something bad.”

“Don’t wreck your pretty head over it, you know how women are.” Hisoka laughed, and Illumi wasn’t sure how serious he meant that, considering that personally he had no idea how women are, and after newest revelations, neither did Hisoka.

But through the course of the night, Illumi couldn’t get it out of his head. He pretended not to notice how people approached Hisoka, addressed him by his name, first or full name, and talked with him about the content he has created, complimented on his most recent videos and looks. And he pretended not to notice how people approached him, addressed him only by his last name, and asked about the family business. “Mr. Zoldyck, are you going to write an article about this line?” “Mr. Zoldyck, about the next issue-“ “Mr. Zoldyck, tell my greetings to your father.”

No word about his own collection he had premiered. No one even uttered his first name.

He was ‘a Zoldyck’. Nothing more, nothing less.

“If looks could kill, we’d be ankle deep in a blood bath by now.” Hisoka snaked an arm around Illumis waist again and rested his hand on the tip of his hip. The designer took a long sip of the bitter champagne, casually slapped away the offending hand, and kept his dark eyes fixed on the crowd. “Still pouting because Machi was being a bully?”

“I am not pouting.”

“And you weren’t jealous either, got it~”

An eye roll, followed by “I have a headache, what’s the time anyway?” Illumi tried to reach for his phone in his pocket, though before he could grab it, Hisoka took hold of his wrist. They locked eyes, and even in the dim lighting of the venue, Illumi saw something wild glisten in those amber eyes. “Let’s leave, together, to my place.”

“Very subtle, Hisoka. I am not going to-”

“Indulge me, Tesoro, I want to show you something.” Determined to blame it on the repulsive atmosphere that had build itself up at the fashion show, Illumi let himself be swept away by Hisoka for the second time that day. The thought of getting away from noisy reporters and cockroaches of the industry who only knew him as the eldest Zoldyck.- former Heir to the empire, was pleasant enough, yet he also didn’t have to be alone and actively think about his reputation, name, and being a ‘lapdog’, technically a win-win situation.

The drive back to the apartment was oddly quiet, despite Hisokas prior excitement. The car tore through the dark night primarily in silence, only accented by the ‘The Velvet Underground’ album they agreed on after scrolling through Hisokas bizarre Spotify library. It definitely wasn’t the kind of music he was used to from the home he was raised in, didn’t fit between the classical music his mother used to play before her headaches made it impossible and the obscene noise music that Killua would play to trigger the same headaches.

“Could you check my messages for me?”

Hisoka hummed in response and grabbed the phone, manicured nails tapping on the screen, before dropping it unceremoniously back into the cup-holders. “Batteries dead.”

“That can’t be, I charged it before I went out this morning, the battery is supposed to hold for a minimum of 72 hours when idle.”

“Your dainty British batteries sometimes give out under Italian heat, invest in better engineering, and charge it at my place for now.”

“…This will better be worth the trouble.”

The streets of Rieti were expectantly empty, and Illumi parked the car right in front of the apartment (Was it a legal parking spot? Unlikely. But parking fines barely matter when seemingly half the world knows your families name.)

The stairs, the door, the entrance, Illumi knew all of these things about Hisokas apartment. “What is there to show me?”

“Patience. Come here~” Hisoka opened the doors to the balcony, white drapes gently tossed in the fresh breeze. The Zoldyck followed- with sceptical hesitation, but followed nonetheless.

He rested his hands on the railing, eyes turned sky-wards, a few strands of hair upset by the wind.

“If you took me here to just look at the stars, I’m not sure which one of us is the bigger fool.”

“Right, if we wanted to look at soon-to-be dead stars, we could have stayed at the show. But we’re not here for them. They are insignificant, always there to look at until one day they vanish and are forgotten. The real star of the show is over there.” He pointed a long nail at the night sky, and Illumi tried to follow where it pointed.

“The moon? Really?”

“Close, but also mundane and boring. Here- “Before Illumi could react, the strange man had placed their heads next to each other and started to correct Illumis position with a pointed yet gentle grip on his chin. “Look straight ahead.”

Just a little bit off to the left of the moon shone a star brighter than anything else, for a moment Illumi felt ridiculous for missing it.

“It’s Venus. Among all these long dead stars, she’s ever present, stands out the most, and is a rare sight to behold.”

“You took me away from the show to gaze at other planets?” Illumi turned towards the other man, suddenly all too aware of how close they were standing once again.

“I took you away from the show because no one there is capable of understanding your true potential. The way everyone there only sees you as an extension of your family is so infuriating, that it makes me want to ruin all their hopeless little dreams right in front their pitiful faces.” With a swift movement Hisoka had pinned the designer against the railing of the balcony. “You could crush all these people under your heel and make them beg for forgiveness. And there’s nothing I’d rather see than that.”

“I don’t need to make anyone beg, if I want something, I get it. It’s always been like that.” A cold thumb traced the line of his sharp chin, followed by a dark chuckle, and all of a sudden Illumi felt fatigued, all air leaving his lungs. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembers his mother recalling symptoms like that. It’s a sickness, nothing more nothing less.

“You get it because you’re a pretty show dog held on a short leash by your family.”

Fucking lapdog. The weight on his chest feels like it could crush his organs any second.

“I’m not asking you to bite the hand that feeds you. But I’d give everything to see what you could do if you were free of restraints.”

Feeling like he needed to hold onto anything, Illumi grabbed onto the back of the other man’s head, fingers buried in wild hair. “And why would you care so much? If you’re just trying to rile me up, there’s ways that don’t make me want to throw you off the balcony and watch your mangled body struggle for life.”

“It’s because you fascinate me, Illumi. You’re my Venus in a sea of dying stars. I want to observe you in all your glory as you outshine everyone else, in your full potential.”

“Who says I won’t crush you as well?” His fingers grasped harder on a few strands of hair. Everything in his body felt wrong, the way his skin was freezing all over, but searing hot wherever he made contact with the other man, the suffocating weight on his chest increased by the second, and in the back of his mind something about sickness echoes again.

They locked eyes, and just then Illumi noticed how close they truly were, Hisokas hot breath falling onto his lips.

And he should have pushed him away.

Should have slapped him, insulted him like the sorry maggot he was.

But he felt weak and sick and so cold, and Hisoka radiated pure heat.

Their lips met, softer than expected of either of them, and Illumi wondered if this is what it feels like to be saved from drowning.

A pleasant warmth seeped into his body, and his lungs felt weightless, like he could breathe for the first time in his life.

Hisoka kissed like each touch might be the last, and Illumi let himself be guided as he wanted, eventually wrapping his arms around the others neck, eager to steal as much of this intoxicating heat as possible.

The man kissed along his jawline, stopping just barely below his ear. “Stay here tonight, cuore mio.”

And Illumi placed a kiss to his temple, as gentle as a man who was never been taught gentleness with people could manage. “Let’s go inside.”

#hxh fanfic #hisoillu #killugon #hxh #hisoka marrow #illumi zoldyck #killua zoldyck #gon freecss #mito freecss #machi komachine #fanfic #fanfiction #I continue to have the worst update schedule known to man <3

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kannra21 · 4 years

Text

This time I watched Fugou Keiji Balance: Unlimited for real, meaning that all this knowledge I gained about that series from the previous time was just facts coming from different posts on Tumblr. And I got to know a lot about it thanks to you. You guys were a big help in figuring out some of the series' most important aspects, I appreciate your input on it.

Now that I’ve watched both episodes. I’m going to comment on some things I haven’t seen people talking much about, I’ll try giving it some highlight so I hope you enjoy.

1) The millionaire detective *or smtng more than that*-

Many expect the main character of the series to present himself in a way that he says his name and what he does for life, to give us an insight into who he is and to give us a better idea of what to expect of the series. But instead, the first episode opens with "I had a father and I had a mother", the series opens with a tragic story and tells us about the rich person's unfortunate life. Why's that? It's very important for Daisuke's character. Because, as we go through the series, the author probably predicted that audience would start judging him according to the way he treats people and work, just like Kato always does. The author tries to warn us not to judge a book by its covers. That's why it is so important that the beginning of the series opens this way.

2) Daisuke's and Kato's teamwork-

Daisuke, being a highly classified detective, knows his rights and what he can and can not do, which he exploits a great deal. He can damage people's vehicles and traffic control but he doesn't care, bc he's a detective and bc the law is on his side. He's using this same knowledge to reach his goal faster without wasting time on things that aren't that important, which means, morally or ethically important. Emotions like insecurity, guilt and regret aren't welcomed in this job. Sensitivity to other people's needs before yours are also irrelevant. Traumatizing a mother and a child from almost getting ran over isn't something that he'd preoccupy his mind with too much. He cares about the sufficiency of the mission and working in the favor of the government, as Ryo himself said.

Kato, on the other hand, is different. People come to him in the first place and the most important thing for him is to bring them peace and security, things that all police officers should actually have in mind. He is everything that Daisuke is not.

And when he told him "You're making quite the show here. How are you going to take responsibility for this?", we can notice that something clicked in Daisuke, that he told himself "ugh I went too far I should do something about it". And then he called HEUSC and told him to send reimbursements for DOUBLE the damage costs he caused for certain people. He also gave the Abura Emirate's seventh prince a billion yen when the car didn't even cost that much. So it’s evident that Daisuke does possess feelings like guilt, he just needs to be reminded of it.

The same goes for that scene when he tried to drop the vehicle into the river, Kato reached for the girl and told her to jump out. Daisuke doesn't care if she's a kid or if she's going to explode together with the van. It is important to him to save the rest + the kids are also considered criminals, he will take it upon himself to judge them as they actually deserved it. Kato, unlike him, can't let himself do that, he just can't. That's why he saved her and let her be with Hiroshi again. I love Kato for that.

Maybe Daisuke is a sufficient detective but Kato is there to remind him that the things he's doing aren't ok. He's giving him a sense of morality and ethics and that's why I think they're put together bc they make a great team. And they truly do, the problem is, Kato can't stand him. 😅

3) This funny moment-

I love how Kamei in the second episode found out ab the tragic death of some woman by going through one of his inappropriate sites and he's like: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"

Kato *annoyed bc he's as well judging him for his perverted ways and lack of devotion towards work*: "Shut up Kamei."

Kamei *big sad*: "It says she died from a drug overdose. That centerfold model Akiko Hoshida..."

Kato: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA??!! SERIOUSLY?"

Which leads me to the conclusion that:

Kato isn't that much different from Kamei.

Kato prefers only a specific type of women while Kamei drolls over every woman who looks even remotely pretty.

Kato has a type because the deceased centerfold model Akiko Hoshida and Suzue look very alike. Kato is also into "innocent" women bc he himself is innocent, as Akira stated. + He knows how to cook, refuses to drink alcoholic beverages during work hours and is actually pretty soft. Kato is more lovable than Daisuke in those aspects.

4) Kato's cluelessness-

Because of being so innocent, Kato doesn't have the ability to criticize others or judge "the way they breathe". He's too good, too considerate, too emphatic. That's why Daisuke's here to break his pretty picture of the world they're living in.

Kato was so easily deceived by the street performers and it was actually funny. Why would they do it otherwise than for money? No one wants to make an idiot out of themselves without a certain price.

He also thought of Suzue as one of them, the drug dealers I mean, acting as liaison. And it made me laugh so much bc he didn't know what's going to hit him. 😂

5) HEUSC-

I love HEUSC so much, this technology stuff is so lit, I wish I had it. It can detect lies, analize time, deduce certain information just from the help of a person's credit card, how much income they have, how much they lost over a couple of days, when and where, what were they buying. It can detect a person, personal information ab where they're from, age and date of birth. It also shows the person's heart rate. It can even work as a magnifier and control the traffic lights, isn't it crazy??

Daisuke's heart rate is always 60 during the whole interrogation. He's so freaking calm.

You also need to understand that Daisuke's session lasted longer than Cho-san's who used weak points such as family members and sense of right and wrong. Daisuke needed some time until their negotiation was done, he gave money to a drug addict in exchange for an information while Cho-san didn't lose anything, he could as well just deceive his suspect and get away with it.

Take into account that Daisuke went through a special training in England so his protocols are different from the normal Japanese ones.

6) Daisuke's jealousy-

Lmao Daisuke is stealing friends. He invited Akira to his own ramen during their Isezaki case.

He said "I can risk my life for Kato" and omg let me tell you, Daisuke became jealous so he made a move and even paid him to get into a costume to lure Kato and the rest of the hooligans to the top.

7) The elevator scene-

Kato standing in the middle of the elevator and Daisuke standing close to the corner as pinned as possible is what made my day. 😂

8) On the rooftop-

Daisuke's heart rate is 72 when shooting from a bazooka in the helicopter. Still too calm but I'd say that he's in a good physical condition considering that he's into boxing.

BTW he accidentally shoot towards Kato bc his target wasn't detected, it only wrote "primary target", he didn't do it on purpose.

But the sole thought of "stank needs to be eliminated" gets me every time. 😂

9) Daisuke joining the MCI-

Daisuke circled around the topic and refused to give the answer about why he decided to become a detective by redirecting the conversation towards Kato.

Let me tell you something, I watched too many crime series to know why he did that.

The reason is very personal.

And at the beginning of the whole anime he introduced himself to us with “I had a father and I had a mother”. I think he's trying to find the culprit for his parent's murder.

10) His lack of sleep-

Although he has lots of money, people like Daisuke tend to afford themselves a nice and cozy sleep. Despite that, Daisuke has as much under eyes as Kato. Which makes me wonder what keeps him awake at night, what's he thinking ab. Is he traumatized in a way? I can't wait for the next episodes to arrive!

Btw while watching the anime I fell in love with Kato even more, such a great character.

#fugou keiji balance unlimited #fugou keiji balance: unlimited #the millionaire detective balance balance: unlimited #the millionaire detective balance: unlimited #daisuke kambe #suzue kambe #haru kato #analysis

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elopez7228 · 4 years

Text

Scenic Route 34/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

Rey sat in the grass, contemplating the decision she had to make. The car was ready. BB8 was chasing crickets around. Right now, almost no one knew her location on the remote campground. But she couldn’t stay there forever. She was furious at Ben...but somehow she couldn’t forget about the night they had spent together. Just thinking about it sent shivers down her spine.

No, she had to act rationally.

It was a mistake to let Leia and Ben take advantage of her. She had been too rash, too trusting for her own good. She didn’t doubt Syed’s intentions; she had also seen Skylar’s brutality with her own eyes. And something told her they wouldn’t be fooled by bear spray twice. She wished she had been even firmer with Ben that it was his responsibility to reign in the lunatics on his team...

But the doubts crept in. What if he couldn’t do it? Or, what if he didn’t actually want to? Worse yet, what if he never really loved her at all? It was hard to wrap her head around his actions. His kisses were ardent, by all accounts he was even more earnest than he had been that night in Jackson Hole.

Sleeping with him hadn’t felt like a trophy fuck or a one night stand, she had felt like an empress. He’d been so focused on her pleasure, on unraveling her with a gentleness that almost seemed out of character. Still as driven as ever, but sweeter, somehow. No one had made love to her like that in ages.

Was that all in order to get his hands on the microchip? Beneath all her righteous anger she’d hoped that it had been a misunderstanding. Maybe then it would’ve been less painful.

Maybe it was time to embrace the obvious: Cupid had it out for her. Just like with Finn, when things were finally looking up, everything came crashing down.

What now?

She thumbed through her contacts mindlessly. She ought to check in on Poe, but she hardly felt like it. Calling Jessica seemed even worse.

It rang just then, startling her.

Ben Solo.

Was he about to tell her that Syed had been put in the naughty corner? Probably not.

“Yes, Ben?” She sighed.

“Please don’t hang up.”

She wasn’t going to, but it was nice of him to insist. She relented.

“What is it this time?”

“Syed and Skylar are looking for the Falcon. You can’t hope to get away in that car.”

“I see you haven’t been successful in convincing them to leave me alone. Also, this is escalating rather quickly, isn’t it?”

“Look, I’m sorry I put you in this situation, I—“

“Yeah, I suppose you should be,” Rey tried to cut him off, but Ben was determined.

“Whatever I did before, I regret it, and I’m trying to protect you now. So let me finish. You need to change cars.”

She snorted derisively. “Do you think I have that kind of money? Besides, your mother trusted me with the Falcon, am I really just suppose to let it rot somewhere?”

“No, no, don’t worry. I’m sending Kelsi Ren your way. Switch with her, and try to gain a few hours on Syed and Skylar.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You won’t make it past ten miles. Syed’s out for blood.”

“Is that a threat?”

Ben hesitated to respond. Rey could hear his uneven breathing on the other side.

“Rey, I know I fucked up,” he said hoarsely. “You don’t have to forgive me, but you have to trust me.”

“Trust is a big ask. As for forgiveness, we’ll see. I guess I don’t have a choice about the car...”

“I’m not trying to force you, but it’s your best option. I mean it.”

Rey rolled her eyes. Really, what alternative did she have? She sighed again.

“When will Kelsi be here?”

“Ten minutes, she’s on the way. When she gets there, switch the registration papers too. Don’t talk to her, don’t answer any questions.”

“It’s not like I’ll invite her to tea,” she grumbled as she hung up.

Ben wasn’t kidding: a large Lincoln Nautilus pulled up next to the Millenium Falcon in a matter of minutes. To Rey’s chagrin, it wasn’t quite large enough to fit her mattress, so they were back to sleeping in the car. At least this one had air conditioning. That would be a welcome change.

She supposed she should call Leia about the Falcon soon. She had promised to deliver both the car and the dog, but perhaps Leia would be receptive to the “looming killers” argument. Desperate times called for desperate measures...

Kelsi emerged from the car. Rey had seen her on stage before, but she was different out of costume, in broad daylight. She looked good in her ripped jeans and hiking boots, though she appeared younger now. Short platinum blonde hair framed her face, which was well-hidden beneath a combination of dark sunglasses and a tattered shawl that wrapped around her shoulders.

“Are you Rey?” She asked casually as she approached.

“Yeah. Here’s my car,” she replied, gesturing to the aging Oldmobile Cruiser.

The blonde grimaced, muttering something about a shitty last minute plan under her breath.

“Here’s the keys and the papers. The tank is loaded. Where’re you headed?”

Ben’s voice echoed in Rey’s head: don’t answer any questions. She realized it was time to play the clueless tourist again, since everyone seemed to think she excelled at the role.

"I don’t know,” she said, giving Kelsi her blankest smile. “I’ll just hit the road I guess. Go wherever life takes me.”

“Whatever,” Kelsi grumbled, mostly to herself. In an almost mechanical gesture, she handed Rey the keys and the registration document.

Now it was time to move the contents of the Falcon. Rey cleared out the glovebox, suddenly noticing that the toy car was gone. She panicked when she realized that Luke’s address was still there. Had Ben found it the other night? If that was the case, he now knew her location and her destination. And that meant he knew his uncle’s address. But he never once said anything. Another day, another game of hide and seek.

“Ugh, this piece of crap reeks of dog!” Kelsi complained. Behind her, Rey snorted. Good luck with that, princess.

Finally, Rey moved BB8’s toys and food bowl to the back seat of the Lincoln before getting behind the wheel. The engine revved up smoothly, and she instantly knew this was a major upgrade compared to the Falcon. It also came with a leather interior, GPS, and Bluetooth. Score! The rest of this trip was going to be so much fun.

She put her sunglasses on and adjusted her seat. Time to hit the road again!

For a little while she basked in the feeling of relief, forgetting that she was currently a crazy old woman’s pawn with no other plans in life, on the run from a pair of assassins and leagues away from her dying ex-husband.

She drove carefully out of Bozeman on Highway 89. She connected her phone to the Bluetooth system, finally deciding to give Poe a call. The conversation was brief as Finn was stable and nothing had changed. Rey neglected to mention her own circumstances because she didn’t want her friends in England to worry more than they already did.

Now that she thought about it, she wasn’t as scared as before. Was this her new normal—travelling alone, confronting bears, flirting with rockstars, and outrunning gangs? Despite the risks, she had never felt more alive.

She slowed the car as she approached what looked like a police barricade. Rey was about to pull the window down when the officer standing there motioned for her to keep going.

But by now her good humor had suddenly disappeared. Ben had said that she wouldn’t make it ten miles in the Falcon. Was this barricade the proof? Did FORCE really have the means to intercept her like that? The idea was so terrifying that she pushed it away.

She was headed even further west, in the direction of Idaho. It was 8 AM now. If she drove for another twelve hours, she could spend the night in Reno, Nevada. From there, San Francisco would only be four hours away. Rey would find Luke Skywalker, give him his dog and the microchip, and live the rest of her average life in peace.

Eventually, she would have to call Leia Skywalker, but right now she needed some dial-in advice from her Fairy Godmother.

“Rey, good morning! How was the concert?”

Concert? Maz’s question was brimming with so much enthusiasm that it took Rey’s brain scrambled to catch up. Ah yes, that concert. Before...before everything. The old woman listened patiently as Rey explained the events of that night, and the unexpected consequences.

“Rey. Rey! Listen to me, I don’t quite get the story behind this micro-SD thing, but it sounds important. So as far as I understand, group A hid this thing on you without your knowledge, and group B, the gang, is looking for it. And you’re angry at group A but you forgive them, while also being in love with the leader of group B, who you’re in a spat with right now. Is that it?”

“I am not in love with—“ her voice broke off mid-sentence.

Who was she kidding? She couldn’t even lie to herself anymore.

Maz was silent, allowing Rey to internalize her revelation.

“What about him?” She asked Rey gently, “Is he not in love either?”

“I don’t know, Maz. He’s been chasing me for a week with his smoldering looks and his but-I’m-a-sentimental-beast love songs. And last night he was—“

Rey sighed.

“Last night he was so genuine. Or so I thought. I believed his affections, and I believed his words too. But this morning he was sending me mixed signals. On one hand he was rummaging through my stuff while I slept, but on the other he just gave me a new car.”

“Rey, I’ve met Syed. She didn’t seem like a very nice woman. I’m willing to believe that she will hurt you, especially now that she has a bone to pick. So why is Kylo Ren risking himself to protect you, after he put you in danger?”

“Ben Solo. It’s Ben Solo who’s trying to protect me, not Kylo Ren.”

“What’s the difference?”

As Rey mulled the question over in her head, it dawned on her that she had always seen a clear distinction between Kylo Ren and Ben Solo. Why?

“Kylo Ren is just a persona. He’s a spy who operates the gears and collects the debts for FORCE. Ben Solo has a more complicated backstory involving his parents, and he doesn’t stand a chance against real villains like Syed Ren. He was the one who kissed me last night.”

“And the man who was looking for the microchip as you slept, who was he?”

“Definitely not the same guy who offered me a car so that I could escape.”

“It looks to me like this boy has a lot of soul-searching to do. I don’t know if you can help with his problems. Take the car for now and get as far away from them as you can! Go find yourself some shelter and let the boy figure out his own life. He’ll come back to you if he really means to.”

Rey contemplated this in silence. It was simple enough to worry about herself for now and let Ben come back when he was ready. It seemed reasonable, doable.

When their conversation came to an end, Rey stopped at Three Forks to get breakfast and buy a few more supplies for the journey. Ideally, she would make as few stops as possible to really stay ahead. Feeling a renewed sense of determination, she was ready to face the world again.

This part of the Rockies was different than the area east of the Teton, which she had passed on arrival. In Wyoming she had driven past dry mountain prairies that were almost desert-like. The other side of the mountain chain was much hillier, reminiscent of the Alpine countryside. She spotted grassy knolls, valleys, and snowy mountain peaks set against the flowery plains.

She followed the valley south, feeling lighter and lighter with each passing kilometer. There was no one behind her. No menacing SUV, no Syed in sight. Could it be that all her worries were immaterial?

Well, there was one person she still had to worry about contacting: Leia Skywalker.

#reylo #fanfiction #Modern AU #Scenic Route

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moseswilhelm · 5 years

Text

Now that you’re all gone, I’ve got a few squishy bits to air out. I don’t feel normal. Whether that means quirky or broken or eccentric depends on the day or hour or seconds between the particular anxiety of waiting on someone to respond to a long string of text. Internally, I’ve cycled between deciding if I am alien, demon, mutated evolution, a plaything of God, a challenge, or just plain old mentally ill. We can guess the healthier option, but there isn’t much use or fun using that.

Knowing you’ve lacked socialization in your youth doesn’t really mean much in trying to solve that problem in the same way that knowing you were just shot won’t help close the wound. What I am trying to say is I wasn’t socialized when I was young and that consistent distant feeling from your peers comes from that. Hearing that you think differently, or have an interesting brain is a nice little compliment albeit a little condescending. Unfortunately, you can’t really monetize excellent explanatory metaphors without the true meat and potatoes of capitalist society: focus. Arguably, effort and hard work and all that, but the measurement of how much you’ve put into something gets a bit blurred when you’ve somehow acquired detail knowledge of the economic turmoil that initiated the Pontic Wars. Someone please give me money for that. Easily an entire week got a bit lost in trying to understand centralized economies in the classical era and not one person paid me. Outrageous. I think writing was my way of trying to accomplish that level of usefulness that we are all trying to achieve. I knew that whatever I went through as a kid helped me develop an approach to understanding things in a unique way, but this is arguably not even useful to myself let alone the world as a whole. Unfortunately this hobby/career is top tier ADD nightmares and require a level of focus and drive comparable to Stephen King just ripped on coke. I neither have the proclivity for weird child orgies and dog monsters or coke. Well thats a lie, coke suits me just fine but my scantron has enough bubbles filled out and I’m already late turning in my “how much of a trainwreck are you” buzzfeed quiz. I see you, red squiggly telling me that “thats” needs an apostrophe. Fuck off, this is art and I refuse to change. Hey, what do you think happens when you’re told that confidence has to come before... y’know... actually being proud of yourself? Arrogance and self-absorption, obviously. You learn very quick that empty confidence is just as meaningless as no confidence, so to kind of fake it you have to really inflate things you have no right inflating and they are inflated on a scale comparable to those around you. Which is arrogant! Its awful! People can do different things at different levels and still be valid! Confidence is valued at an extremely high level to the point where the confidence to present yourself is a bit more important than the character you are supposedly proud of... evidenced plenty by the folks in the public eye known specifically for their charisma and yet somehow failing to actually be a person worth being around. That said, it can get tangled up in actually being proud of yourself. Shocking, I know, but you can’t really lump people who have characters worth being proud of to those just decent at faking it. Faking it. I know imposter syndrome is a thing. I am certainly not really alone in the concept of “oh god I’m faking it” so I won’t really pretend I have some magic insight on the concept (I’m lying I’m absolutely going to present myself as someone with Answers welcome to the fucking show) but when does “holding it together” and “how you present yourself” become imposter syndrome. “Hi this is me who has to be this way in order to balance between seeming different enough to stand out but not so different that you feel disgusted at the concept of change, nice to meet you” I mean what the fuck is a person anyways. Thats not a question. Not even a rhetorical one so if you answered aloud in your head I’m sorry but my psyche is not emotionally prepared for audience participation right now so clam up. Finding yourself is always a precarious as hell phrase because that often means one of two things: 1. Learning not to care about how others feel about who you are, despite all evidence of existence point out that this is the absolute most important aspect of your life 2. Presenting the parts that you were afraid to present to people. Look, I get it, you can’t please everyone and I’m not really here to talk about how to please anyone. In fact, I’m not even here. This is a lucid dream you’re having in your chair and shortly you’ll wake up and not remember if you were sleeping at all. Its fine, you’re fine. You have to please someone though. I think we underestimate the value of the tutorial level of life regarding this. You are given a set amount of people who are, usually, just going to be pleased by your existence. This always sets up your expectations of how that looks, how it feels, and how important it is. I mean imagine if right now I decided to criticize the immense value society puts on children. You’d hate my fucking guts! “Look at this asshole, kids deserve to be cared for” To be clear I don’t disagree with that. I think a lot of the current “you are valid” rhetoric is based on the concept that adults deserve to be cared for as well. This sorta rounds off my point that attention and reassurance is an important part of being cared for. In my opinion, this gets overlooked very often in favor cheap performative actions like hitting a heart button and oh my god I’m like a baby boomer writing for the new york times okay hold on I promise this isn’t a cynical criticism of millennials. People want to be heard. Importantly, people want to be understood. Spicy hot fucking take. Its a bit more than “this person knows who I am” although thats precisely how its framed. People want to be cared for, and this means knowing the... other person knows who they are caring for. Ah holy shit this is why I use metaphors. You have a snickers bar and you are hungry. Congration, you done it. Its the middle of the day and you never had any breakfast and frankly your bank account could use a break from pleasuring Starbuck’s atm reader so you somehow found the last snickers bar in a box you bought off of impulse bought off of Amazon and immediately regretted because it was gone two days later. Or so you thought. As you threw away the cardboard you hear the tell-tale tumble of a forgotten rod of peanuts and caramel that must have gotten jammed in the back of this thing. It was, however, 7am and you had to get to work and maybe having bubbleguts while dealing with people is not your recipe for a good day so you throw it into your purse or bag or whatever the fuck and move on. “Lunchtime” rolls around and as you do the mental gymnastics required to find the conclusion that food=energy in between bouts of fury over why your workday insists on starting at 8am and how you can’t seem to cope with falling asleep early enough for that not to matter, you remember your snickers bar. Reaching into whatever bag you put it and coming to the horrifying dread of realization that you left this bag in your car in fucking July, you find the sweet sugared respite in a corner. Squeezing it a bit just to test, you are surprised to not find it in the horrible (and yet delicious) state of melted confectionary. Your stomach grumbles a bit as you fidget with the perforated candy wrapper, vaguely thinking to yourself that it might be interesting to read the ingredients as you eat this thing like that isn’t going to fill you with inexplicable Eldritch dread. Nobody needs to know they are ingesting something that might have been made in a facility that also processes every other nut you can think of, delightfully shortened into “tree nuts”. I wonder if anyone has cross referenced all the allergen warnings to deduce which candies are made in the same factory, or if that information is just freely available. What if we kissed in the snickers production facility??? haha jk but...? Anyways, as your mind cycles through a list of stale memes you manage to unsheath this uncut chocolate delight from its wax(???) plastic prison and proceed to take your first, and arguably best, bite into this lunch. Your teeth sink softly into it, as you would expect. In fact, expectations haven’t really filtered into your skull soup you call a brain, so all manner of things can just slip through your recognition. Not this, however. Instead, fireworks of electric signals screaming “BITTER POISON” shock your brain from its previous state of vaguely functioning. Now you truly see the color of light, feel the air cocooning your skin, the squirm of your organs in your belly. Full panic ensues. You are not human, you are animal, and you have taken in a poison thing. You spit it out right there on your lap. You stare at the sad and ruined chocolate mutant nestled grossly in between your legs as your brain high fives itself for saving your life before frantically scouring your subconscious for whatever Vine gives it enough dopamine to not just fucking kill yourself right here. What happened? The fugue of panic washes your perceptions with a mixture of justifications for this travesty. It probably just went bad, but that didn’t taste spoiled (you consider yourself a mild expert having scraped clean many an old collection of halloween candy collections in August the year after the fact) so maybe it melted and rehardened? Baking stuff is weird so maybe that broke down some of its components. You pick it up (holy shit that is slimy. Of course its slimy, just touch it) and its insides look fine. I mean, how often do you examine the insides of a partially chewed bite of snickers? No weird colors. The remaining chocolate lasagna brick also looks exactly what you’d thought it be. You jokingly think to yourself that maybe you had a stroke but despite the apparent hilarity of that possibility you do the smile thing in the selfie camera of your phone. Everything seems fine, but now you’re getting mad that some turn of events has just ruined your perfectly good slab of sugar and fat that surely would have made the rest of the day bearable (and full of indigestion) Now that is a metaphor.

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joonie-beanie · 6 years

Text

Oh, Baby (Namjoon x Reader) Pt. 20 (Final)

[Pt 1] [Pt 2] [Pt 3] [Pt 4] [Pt 5] [Pt 6] [Pt 7] [Pt 8] [Pt 9] [Pt 10] [Pt 11] [Pt 12] [Pt 13] [Pt 14] [Pt 15] [Pt 16] [Pt 17] [Pt 18] [Pt 19]

Pairing: Namjoon/RM x Reader Rating: M Genre: Smut/Mafia-ish AU

Words: 6,324

Summary: You were only supposed to have seen him twice. Only twice, no more, but now you’re getting dragged into situations you never wished for and Namjoon just keep showing up.

A/N: I’ll keep my somewhat sentimental Author’s Note for the end. For now, read on, and I hope you all enjoy~

“Good evening, and welcome to the 5 o’clock news. Tonight, we’ll be running a special news report on the two murders that occurred 5 days ago, at Jeon Enterprise’s Seoul location.”

You and Jungkook pause, looking up at the television hanging on the wall of the student lounge. Around you, others pause in their studying, attention turning to the male newscaster on the screen.

“I’m sure as many of you have heard, the CEO and founder of Jeon Enterprises himself was one of the victims—the other being a previously prevalent figure in the mafia, a man known by the name Jaehyuk. The murders took place on the night of the Jeon’s annual charity ball, and according to the official police report which was finally released just last night, it seems that Jeon and Jaehyuk ended up being killed by each other’s parties.”

Jungkook meets your hesitant gaze—a look of should we get out of here?—but Jungkook simply shakes his head and turns his attention back down to the pile of Psychology homework on the table in front of you. After having missed nearly two weeks of class, the two of you have a lot to catch up on.

Simply wanting to get all this work done as soon as you can—you turn your attention away from the report and continue reading through the questions of the assignment you and Jungkook are currently working on.

“From what we know, Jeon was shot first, in his private suite up above the main ballroom area by one of Jaehyuk’s subordinates, who had snuck into the ball along with him. When a staff member of the event heard the fired shot, this staff member pulled the fire alarm in hopes that everyone would evacuate the building and no one would be further injured.

“Following this, one of Jeon’s security staff found Jaehyuk attempting to escape through the rear exit—away from the main crowd—and Jaehyuk was forced to retreat back into the ballroom until, subsequently, the guard ended up firing two rounds when the man presented a gun and refused to be taken into custody.”

“What about Jaehyuk’s party? Someone shot Jeon, correct? Where did his men go?” another news reporter butts in, arms crossed and brows furrowed. The male summarizing the police report shuffles some papers around in his grasp.

“According to the guard who was later tracked down to give his statement, Jaehyuk’s men were not around when he found Jaehyuk attempting to leave the scene. His best guess was that Jaehyuk’s men bolted as soon as things started to take a turn for the worst.”

“Sounds like something the mafia would do,” a third personality speaks up, clearly more easy going than the other two. “Get the job done and abandon their boss to fend for himself.”

“Is the security guard the only account the police are going off of?”

“No, the police say their report is mostly based off what was observed by the staff member who pulled the fire alarm, and two other individuals who had been attending the party, and had been the last to leave the ballroom.”

“And who are these witnesses?”

Despite your effort to focus on the task at hand, you end up quickly reaching to grab your cellphone, which is splayed across the table beside your notes, as the screen flashes to life. A new notification—a text, to be precise.

You pause as you note the contact from which you’ve just received a message. Your heart goes through a small cycle of hope and dread—and then you finally open it.

“Due to the mafia involvement in this crime, as well as a request from Jeon Enterprises Board of Directors to keep their identities private, at the time we have no names or faces to put to the accounts this report is based off of.”

Your eyes scan the message—a simple two words, but tears well in your wide, surprised eyes, and you turn the device to face Jungkook. When he doesn’t notice, you reach over and pat his arm repeatedly, the boy looking at you, confused, until he notices that you’re holding up the message for him to read.

Min Yoongi:

He’s awake.

Jungkook’s eyes flit to you, and you both look shocked, but can’t help it when smiles break out across your faces.

Grabbing your papers, you both hurriedly begin packing your bags, and luckily the news report is interesting enough to keep all eyes from turning to the two kids who suddenly look like they’ve forgotten about their shift at work and are trying to haul ass.

“Speaking of witness accounts” the more easygoing personality speaks up. “I heard the camera footage from the hotel that night was destroyed, which is why the police are trusting these three witnesses so much.”

You and Jungkook stand up, grabbing your bags and you, your crutch, and bustle out of the study room—but the sound of the report follows you. It’s as if all of Seoul has tuned in to listen.

“Indeed, when returning to the hotel to retrieve the footage from the night of the crime, not only was the tape destroyed but a majority of the security hub, in whole, had been damaged to a nearly unrepairable state. Many believe this is likely where Jaehyuk’s men may have disappeared to—another possibility—but without the tapes we can’t say anything for sure. Right now, all we can do is trust in the words of the people who actually saw these events occur first-hand.”

“Seems suspicious to me,” the second, least convinced reporter grumbles, but the main reporter simply straightens out his papers again.

“Whatever you may think or feel, this is the official report the police have released to the public, and with two bodies identified, the witness accounts, and a request from a mourning family to simply let things be, this case has been closed.”

Jungkook hits the button for the elevator, taking your bag off of your shoulder and slinging it over his own. You nudge him with your hip, all smiles, and Jungkook can’t help but grin.

After a few seconds, the elevator arrives and the two of you step inside, descending down to the 1st floor of the building. When the double doors slide open, the report is still ongoing.

“However, speaking of the future of Jeon Enterprises, tonight Jeon Junghyun, the eldest son of the family, will be holding a public conference to explain the next stages of their business. Of course, all of us here at the station are praying for the mourning family, and wishing them well during any changes that may come their way.”

“Hey there, slow down,” Jungkook comments as you hobble ahead, a little reckless with how much weight you’re putting on your injured leg. “Jin hyung is gonna be pissed if we get there and you’re bleeding through the bandages. You know he’s not gonna let you leave later without checking on your wound.”

“Jungkook, I know I’m smiling right now, but I’m also this close--,” you lift your fingers and show him how they’re extremely close to touching, “—to crying too, so unless you want me to start sobbing in public, right here, and make you look like an abusive boyfriend or something of the sort, just let me be.”

Jungkook laughs, holding the door open for you as you both make your way outside.

“Don’t let Namjoon hyung hear you say that, he’ll beat my ass.”

At that, you laugh as well.

A minute later, having made it to the nearest parking lot, Jungkook pulls out his keys and unlocks his car—the tail lights flashing. After Jungkook’s brother had come up from Busan, he’d immediately greeted Jungkook with a hug and proceeded to grant him more freedom than his father had in years—which included the use of a car, so he would no longer need to be carted to and from school, like some kind of trapped child of royalty.

Jamming his keys into the ignition, Jungkook revs the car to life, carefully glancing around as he backs out of the spot. You, too, keep watch out the passenger window as he drives. It’s not that you don’t trust him, but simply that Jungkook hasn’t had much experience driving due to his father’s old-school ways.

Leaving campus grounds, the two of you venture into the main part of the city. Avoiding the skyscrapers and the hub of businesses at the city’s center, you instead stick near the edge of town, traversing the slightly congested streets until a familiar building comes into sight.

Jin’s apartment.

Pulling into a parking space, Jungkook turns the engine off and then glances over at you as his hand moves to undo his seatbelt. He can spot how anxious you are—and it’s not all negative—but it’s obvious that your emotions are being pulled in so many directions. However, he chooses to say nothing—at this point you just need to see him—so instead he simply steps out of the car and moves around to make sure you safely make it over the curb.

Side by side, the two of you make your way into the building, taking another elevator ride up to Jin’s floor. Jungkook’s the one who knocks on the door, and you take a deep breath which fails to help calm you.

After a few seconds, the handle twists and the door is pulled open. Jin, a medical mask draped around his neck, smiles at you both.

“That was quick. Yoongi said that he’d text you as he was leaving, but that was seriously fast. Are you sure you didn’t see him on your way out?”

“Haha, hyung, always so full of jokes,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, and Jin laughs at himself, motioning you both inside. You shed your shoes in the doorway, and then pause, eyes turning up to the doctor. Feeling your stare, Jin blinks and turns his attention to you.

“Do I need to step into some kind of disinfectant chamber first? If I bring outside diseases in will he die within minutes?”

Jin hides his smile behind his hand.

“Like I’ve told you already—he’s stable. He came out of his coma about 20 hours ago, but I had to make sure his wound and vitals were alright before letting anyone know.”

“Wait, so you’re saying he’s already been awake for almost a day?!” you say in surprise, and Jin holds up his hands.

“Things can change sometimes, I didn’t want to make a false announcement and have you all on my doorstep only for there to be more bad news.”

“I guess that’s understandable,” Jungkook mumbles considerately, and Jin huffs. He poses his hands on his hips, looking down at you both.

“Let me remind you, he’ll still need to rest for a while. He’s not 100%. He’ll need therapy for his right arm, and may never have the same mobility in it again. Chronic back problems, blood clots, finger numbness…these are all possibilities with this kind of injury,” Jin explains, and then pauses when he sees your and Jungkook’s faces falling.

“But…the important part is that he’s alive, and he’ll be fine otherwise. There’s no longer any immediate threat to his life.”

At that, the two of you sigh with relief and Jin smiles fondly, lifting a hand to card it through his hair.

“He should still be awake, if you want to go in and see him.”

“Can I?” you ask, hopeful and nervous at the same time. Leaning onto your crutch, you glance over at Jungkook. He shrugs, throwing his hands behind his head.

“You need some time alone with him, and I’ve got an hour or two left before I need to leave. Don’t worry about me, I can talk to him when you’re done making-out, or whatever.”

You blush, reaching over to smack him. He laughs, and Jin does too, until he suddenly pauses, eyes turning serious.

“Ok, but really,” he says, leaning forward and sternly putting a hand on your shoulder. “I know how he is—but he can’t have sex or do any strenuous activities for a while longer yet, so--!”

“Oh my god! I hate you guys!” you blush, ducking down and moving past them. “He just woke up from a 4 day coma, all I want to do is make sure I’m not dreaming!”

“Just go,” Jin says, waving you away, and you huff but continue into his home. Familiar with Jin’s apartment by now, you weave through the living room and then turn down the hall, continuing forward until you’re stood in front of the closed door that Namjoon is currently behind.

Following the night of the ball, you’d awoken to Jungkook’s sullen face, and he had explained to you exactly as Jin had explained to him. Namjoon had survived surgery to remove the bullet, but due to the delay of immediate treatment, the trauma had exceeded the amount his body could handle, and he had fallen into a coma.

Jin had explained that the chances of him never waking up were very small, and more than likely he would naturally wake up from it in a few days, once his body had begun to heal from the wound. This news, to say the least, had been bitter sweet. Namjoon was ok, but…not exactly.

Luckily, to all of your relief, as the days passed Jin had reported seeing improvements in his condition, and finally after 4 days he’d woke up. Still injured, still needing more treatment, but alive, and that’s what mattered.

Biting your lip, your eyes wander down to the handle of the door, and you hesitate to turn it. Sure, you want nothing more right now than to rush inside and confirm with your own eyes that Namjoon is alright. The last time you’d seen him he’d been surrounded by beeping medical equipment helping to keep him alive, and now…

Now…

“Y/N?” you hear him call, and you freeze, startled. “You’re there, right? I can basically sense your anxiousness,” he chuckles softly. “But…I’m okay. You can come in.”

Taking a deep breath, you reach forward and grip the handle, pushing the door openly slowly. In the white sheeted bed, Namjoon is sat up, blonde hair black at the roots, the right side of his bare chest wrapped with fresh dressings.

You meet his eyes, and relief floods you. Tears tickle your lashes as they threaten to overflow, and Namjoon smiles at you fondly, however—

His eyes move down as he spots your crutch, and then the leg that you’re keeping the weight off of. Smile dropping, he looks up at you again, hand raising to point at the injury.

“What’s that?”

You blink. “What’s…what?” you look down at your leg, which had been injured the night of the ball. “Did you…not…know?”

Namjoon scowls, sitting up straighter as he attempts to yell over your shoulder.

“WAS THIS SOMETHING JIN SHOULD’VE TOLD ME ABOUT BUT CHOSE NOT TO?!”

Jin’s response is immediate and full of sarcasm.

“SORRY I WAS TRYING TO LOOK OUT FOR MY PATIENTS HEALTH AND NOT TELL HIM ABOUT A MINOR INJURY HIS GIRLFRIEND GOT BECAUSE IF I DID I KNOW THAT HIS BLOOD PRESSURE WOULD SKYROCKET.”

Rolling your eyes, before Namjoon can think of anything to shout back, you reach behind you and shut the door. When you turn around, Namjoon is pouting. You breathe a laugh.

“What’s with that face?”

Sighing, Namjoon raises his good arm, as if waiting for you to walk up and hug him. His soft side makes your cheeks flush happily, and you limp forward, gently sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping your arms around him. The hug is almost feather light, but you don’t want to risk messing up any of his healing wounds.

“Are you okay?” he asks you when you lift your palm to cup his cheek. Smiling, you shake your head.

“Compared to what you went through my injury is nothing, Namjoon.”

“Still,” he frowns, placing his hand on your thigh and looking down at your leg. “What happened?”

You sigh. “After you were shot by Jeon, we all went back to the ballroom, and when our guard was down Jaehyuk woke up. He tried to shoot you when he saw you were already injured, so I yelled out, and I guess he redirected his anger towards me. I just got grazed!” you quickly add in when you see his face darken. Huffing, you smack his thigh, and he jumps in surprise.

“Jaehyuk is already dead, you idiot. Don’t go getting all angry planning your revenge or whatever.”

“The guy fucking held you captive for a week and then shot you, I’m allowed to be mad at him, even if he’s dead, okay?” Namjoon huffs, and you roll your eyes again, but nonetheless stroke his cheek and lean up to kiss him.

Your eyes shut, and Namjoon raises his good arm, his palm cradling your jaw as he deepens the kiss. There’s no sense of demand, no want to drag the gesture further or deeper. It simply is a kiss shared between two people who at the moment feel nothing but love, and relief.

“Are you actually okay?” he whispers against your lips, thumb stroking your skin as he pulls back, and you frown.

“I…I’m fine. I just…want to get away from everything that happened last week, that’s all.”

“I understand,” Namjoon nods, and then sighs. He angles his head back, eyes locking on the ceiling.

“I also kind of…understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore. I thought that…you know, after the last ‘date’ we had that I could make it work—that we could make it work—but…of course, as soon as I’d thought that you’d been kidnapped. This is all my fault. I know it, and I’m pretty sure you know it too. I want to protect you with all of my power, from now on, but I…I don’t know what will happen. I can’t promise that—”

“Hey,” you interrupt, placing your hand atop his own. He glances down, watching as your fingers intertwine with his, and then looks up to see your kind smile.

“I haven’t given up on you yet, Kim Namjoon…,” you squeeze his hand, eyes turning slightly sad. “Since the beginning of all of this…it’s been…a rocky ride, hasn’t it? But…I can’t say I regret any of it. Of course I never wanted to be shot, and kidnapped and dragged into all of this, but along the way I made friends, and I met you, and fell for you and…you risked your life trying to get me back. You…didn’t have to do that, Namjoon…”

“I really did,” he responds, lips pressing to the crown of your hair as you hunch over, shoulder shaking as you attempt to fight off the tears that continue to flow whenever you think about your fresh wounds.

“There was absolutely no way…no way in hell that I would’ve just let you go like that. I was prepared to die that night if I had to, but I’m honestly glad I got off with just a bullet wound and a short comatose…imagine dying and never getting to see your cute face again, oh man.”

“You’re outrageous,” you sniffle, free hand lifting to wipe at your eyes and nose, and Namjoon smiles.

“So…are we still giving us a chance then? And don’t say yes because you feel obligated since I came to rescue you, or something like that. I’m a changed man—no longer about that petty love. I want the real thing, ya know?”

“I fucking hate you, just shut up already,” you laugh, and Namjoon decides that kissing you again is the only way to properly get himself to stay quiet.

3 hours later, in a conference hall within the same building the crime had occurred, Jeon Junghyun steps up to a podium, hundreds of reporters lining the room.

Off to his side is his little brother, Jeon Jungkook, and a few other executives from their company. All have their arms politely crossed in front of them, faces void of emotion, and as Junghyun adjusts the microphone, the entire room hushes.

Glancing up, a small smile breaks out on his handsome face.

“This is a little strange, isn’t it? You’ll have to forgive me if I say something unusual, typically it’s my father that handles these kinds of things.”

A few people laugh before realizing why it is his father isn’t around anymore, and the laughter quickly dies.

“No, it’s okay,” Junghyun says, “it’s important to find humor in things and to be able smile at during times like this. While our family and company may be mourning the loss of a CEO, partner, and father, we plan to continue moving on and bettering ourselves in the best way we can.

“That being said,” he shuffles some papers around, “today I have chosen to hold this press conference, with the main intent being to inform the public of what our company will be doing next, following this terrible occurrence.

“Succeeding the dead of my father, and the realization that he may have been tied to the mafia in some way, which resulted in his untimely death, our company plans to continue digging and making sure to rid any illegal connections and ties that had been crafted due to my father, without any of the rest of us having been aware. This will likely be a timely process, but in order to regain the trust of the public and our stakeholders, as the new CEO of the company I promise to absolutely do my best to make sure nothing like this ever happens again. Our company seems to have strayed from our beliefs without my knowledge, but with my father’s passing comes the opening for a multitude of changes, and as a company we plan to make the best of this opportunity.

“For now, seeing as we are still grieving the recent loss, I don’t have any major progress to report. Our company and its employees will be taking a short time more to mourn before returning to our regular business. Once that occurs, a team will be put together to locate and crack down on any illegal activities that may be tied to our business. With all of this being said, I have no other news to report.”

Immediately hands fly into the air, reporters shouting questions at the new, young CEO of the company. A member of Junghyun’s team steps up, asking calmly for reporters to quiet down, and stating that Junghyun will answer only a handful of questions before leaving.

Off to the side, Jungkook watches with silent admiration as his brother handles the press and their questions better than he ever could. While Junghyun was originally the heir to the company as the eldest son, due to some ethical differences between him and his father, Junghyun had been moved to handle the Busan branch, with the title of heir being passed to Jungkook—the son still at home, and still at Jeon’s mercy to shape into the ideal child.

To both Jungkook and Junghyun’s relief—having had a fairly good relationship their entire life—Jungkook ended up having a spirit and a defiant personality perhaps ever stronger than Junghyun, which left their father unable to brainwash either one of his sons into being the perfect heir.

As soon as Jungkook had learned of his father’s betrayal of Namjoon, and had begun scheming with Namjoon’s crew to rescue you, he’d brought up the idea of contacting his older brother. Also opposing of his father’s reign, Junghyun had agreed to take care of the aftermath so long as their father ended up being killed on that night.

While things hadn’t gone exactly as planned, it was nothing Junghyun couldn’t handle, and he’d kept his promise—taking care of the security tapes, paying off guards to act a part in the lie you’d told the police, and keeping your, Hoseok, and Jungkook’s names away from the press. He never mentioned the possibility of Namjoon, Yoongi, Taehyung, or Jimin being at the ball. He had tied up any loose ends, and somehow managed to keep suspicion low at the same time.

If not for his brother, Jungkook’s not sure where he’d be right now. Or any of you, for that matter.

“Guess I’ll have to get used to that more,” Junghyun sighs as he steps into the elevator alongside Jungkook. It’s just the two of them, the press conference having ended a short time ago.

Jungkook watches his brother as the elder loosens his tie.

“You never did like public speaking, did you?”

“Mostly because I never got to say what I wanted when dad was around,” Junghyun mumbles, and then pauses, staring a Jungkook with squinted eyes.

“I figured you don’t care, but…you’re not like…secretly super upset by dad dying and me talking shit about him, are you?”

Jungkook actually snorts. “I was the one who watched him get shot. And if you don’t recall, the last thing he did before dying was beat me and disown me, so.”

“Ahh, that’s right. Truly an asshole until his last dying breath.”

When the elevator arrives on the top floor, the two step out together and head into the penthouse. However, as they kick their shoes off on the landing, Junghyun hums thoughtfully.

“How’s Namjoon doing?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention it, with the conference going on and everything, but he woke up from his coma yesterday,” Jungkook informs him. “I guess he’ll need some physical therapy to get his shoulder and arm back in working order, but other than that Jin hyung says he’s doing well.”

“That’s good. You should give me his number soon, so I can contact him. Once he’s back in commission I’m thinking about asking him for a partnership.”

Jungkook almost falls on his face. “Didn’t you just say downstairs that you plan to revamp the company and cut all ties with the mafia?!”

Junghyun blinks innocently, posing a hand on his hip and turning to face his younger brother.

“I do plan to do that, but I also know without the underhanded method dad has been using for years, our business would be in a bit of a pinch. So, we weed out all the illegal partnerships, cut ties, and then once the public has commended us for our efforts, we give all our business to Namjoon instead. After all, he saved you, and your friend, right? The girl I met when I arrived in Seoul? Dad betrayed him, and I’m sure Namjoon will lose business if anyone finds out he’s been injured, so I figure forming a partnership with him will be in both of our best interests.”

“Oh my god…you…,” Jungkook says, stunned. His brother, in the end, is just as conniving as his father. At least this time Jeon Enterprises and RM Investment Corporation will finally be on the same side.

3 months later

Namjoon has you up on the kitchen counter of his apartment, panties on the floor and his face between your thighs when your phone begins ringing. You groan in disappointment, the fingers you have tangled in his now-brown hair tugging at his roots, asking him to let up so you can answer the call.

However, Namjoon only reaches around you and takes a handful of your ass in both his palms, dragging you farther forward so he can keep your clit trapped against his mouth. You moan, gripping his hair tighter as your orgasm inches closer and closer. You don’t want him to stop either, but you may need to take this call.

“Babe, it could be Yoongi,” you breathe shakily, pleading with him, and with a sigh Namjoon loosens his grip on you and pulls back. He licks his wet lips, dark eyes staring up at you and hair handsomely disheveled. Your pussy throbs at the sight of him, and you really don’t want to get up to take this call, but—

With the number of rings allotted before the call goes to voicemail quickly approaching, you hop off the counter and bustle towards where your phone is resting on the kitchen table.

“Hello?” you answer, a little breathless, and you smooth the apron you’re wearing down against the front of your thighs.

There’s the sound a car door slamming followed by a small curse. You blink, worry filling your chest.

“Yoongi oppa?”

“Oh, you picked up. Thank god.”

The car starts up, and the tires squeal a little as Yoongi races away from where he had been parked.

“I need you to remind me where it is I’m supposed to drop this package for Junghyun. I’m not familiar with their Busan locations yet, and I accidentally left my papers at Minnie’s apartment.”

“Cute,” you comment, and you almost hear Yoongi roll his eyes.

“If you could hurry up that’d be nice too,” he speaks as you move to kitchen island counter, where multiple business papers are scattered over the surface. “The dumbass security guards Junghyun sent with me bitched out before they got the entire shipment, so I had to sneak back into warehouse and grab the last box. Unfortunately, another company was moving in their own shit as I was there, and, long story short, they saw me. I don’t know if they’re coming after me or not yet, but I’d just like to get the fuck out of here.”

“I got you…,” you mumble, trapping your phone between your shoulder and ear as you quickly sort between the documents. As you do so, Namjoon quietly sneaks up behind you, and when his hands grip your ass tightly, you accidentally gasp into the receiver.

There’s a beat of silence on the line as your cheeks flush, and Yoongi realizes what’s going on.

“Were you and Namjoon having sex when I called?” He almost groans, scowling disdainfully at his phone. “Seriously, Jin only told him 2 weeks ago that his wounds were finally healed enough for him to start having sex again. Have you gone to class at all since then?”

“Of course I have!” you respond, embarrassed, and try to press your thighs together as Namjoon’s hand moves to cup your pussy, his lips pressing soft kisses against your neck and shoulders. Your bite your lip to keep from moaning as two of his fingers slide into your soaking walls.

“Here I f-found—stop it, oh my god—I found the address, can you pull it up on GPS?”

Yoongi pulls away from his phone, squinting at his screen, and clicks on the speaker button before moving to open up his GPS app.

“Can you put me on speaker?”

“Y-Yep,” you stutter, leaning your elbows forward to rest against the counter top. Behind you, Namjoon grins, continuing to fuck his fingers into you.

Yoongi sighs, peeved.

“Namjoon…I know…the last 3 months have been hard for you…but while I’m trying to get directions from your girlfriend on an assignment I’m doing on your behalf, can you maybe like…chill, for two fucking minutes.”

The only response Namjoon gives him a noncommittal hum, and Yoongi gives up.

“Y/N, the address please.”

You tell him hurriedly, listening as Yoongi punches the numbers and letters into his phone and confirms that it’s a legitimate address.

“Thanks, I’ll let you two get back to it.”

“This is all because of Namjoon, not me--,” you begin to say when all of the sudden Namjoon reaches his free hand past you and presses the ‘End Call’ button with a simple, “bye hyung!”

With that taken care of, Namjoon immediately gets back to what he’d been doing before. His hand slips beneath your apron, moving to fondle one of your breasts. He tugs and pinches at your taut nipple for a short while, soaking in the sounds you make for him, until suddenly both of his hands leave you. Instead, he begins pressing kisses to the curve of your spine, and you hear him rustling with the belt on his jeans.

“Why can’t you just control yourself for 3 minutes,” you laugh, resting your cheek against the cool tile of the tall island. Namjoon grabs your hips, canting them backwards, and you feel the head of his cock rub between your folds. “It’s not like you didn’t orgasm for 3 months, I gave you handjobs and blowjobs…”

“It’s so not the same,” he says indignantly, groaning as he pushes his cock between your walls. “Besides it’s not like Yoongi cares—just consider this payback for we walked in to find him and Jimin—”

“You’re so petty,” you interrupt him, but reach one of your hands back, grabbing onto his forearm. “Anyway, stop talking and just fuck me already.”

“Your wish is my command, babe,” he grins, and the reaches forward, shoving your hips back against him. He starts off at a moderate pace, listening as you moan at every thrust. You brace yourself up on your forearms, pressing your ass back to meet him half way, and Namjoon curses.

“Fuck you have no idea how hard I got just from eating you out,” he growls, and you gasp when he suddenly loops an arm around your torso, just beneath your breasts. His other hand lifts to your neck, fingers curling around it and pressing into the spots he knows will make your head light and pussy throb.

“N-Namjoon,” you moan as you’re forced to arch your spine, at his complete mercy as the new position simply allows him to plow up into you. And he takes full advantage, rattling your body with each jolt of his hips. Your mind begins to go white with bliss, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting in a moan that isn’t quite vocalized.

Namjoon feels your pulse racing against his fingertips, and your pussy tightens around him. The sensation causes him to groan, his orgasm, so, so close, and he leans forward until his lips caress the shell of your ear.

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?”

“C-Can I?” you stutter, head swimming as your pleasure spikes, and Namjoon grunts in affirmation, his mouth sinking down to the crook of your neck.

“Yes, cum now. I’m right there,” he admits, teeth nipping your flesh, and with a broken moan your orgasm hits you. Your walls pulse around his throbbing cock, and Namjoon hisses, his seed spilling into you as his fingers fall from around your neck.

Sated, warm breaths fill the room, and Namjoon brings both his arms up to hug you from behind. His lips press small kisses behind your ear, and you giggle.

Wiggling in his hold, you turn to face him, and move your arms to drape around his neck. You smile at him fondly, cheeks flushed.

“I love you,” you say, and Namjoon’s heart flutters. Three words he never gets tired of hearing from you.

Leaning down, he kisses you properly.

“I love you too, babe.”

At that moment, again, your cellphone buzzes. This time it’s a text message, however, and from Jungkook nonetheless. Without opening it, you already know what it’s about.

“Ah! I’m late!” you hiss and bolt for the bedroom, Namjoon shamelessly watching your ass as you run out of the kitchen. “This is all your fault!”

“Mine?” he quotes, moving to lightly clean himself up before he pulls his pants back over his legs.

“Yes, yours! I’m supposed to be downstairs right now so I can meet Jungkook and goo to the study group on campus with him!”

“Oh, that’s tonight?” he wonders aloud, and reaches over to check the date on the home screen of your phone. “Huh. I guess it is.”

“Asshole,” you grumble, stumbling out of the bedroom now dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt, your backpack flung over one shoulder. You stop in the kitchen to snatch up your phone, kissing Namjoon on the cheek.

“Your punishment is cleaning the dishes by yourself. I should be home by 10.”

“Wow, harsh,” he pouts, turning to watch you as you slide to the entryway and force your shoes onto your feet. You laugh.

“You’ll survive~ You big baby.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, and then remembers something.

“Jimin may be over when you get back. He said something about dropping off a report and planning a move, or something like that.”

“No Hobi or Taehyung?”

“Tonight is the night Hoseok typically goes out drinking with Jin. And Taehyung isn’t back from Mokpo yet.”

“Ah, that’s right. Well, if I don’t see him tell Jimin I said hi,” you respond, and with one last smile in Namjoon’s direction you turn and open the front door. It slowly creeks closed behind you, and Namjoon leans back against the counter, eyes wandering to the patch of white ceiling above his head.

Never in his life did Namjoon imagine he would reach a point of feeling so happy, and fulfilled like he does now. What had started out as a misunderstanding and a coincidental second meeting had turned into series of events that had inflicted upon Namjoon an array of emotions he had never expected to feel. Confusion, anger, sadness, relief…you had gone through so much no thanks to meeting him, yet here you were, months down the line, in the beginning stages of sharing your life together.

His enemies had become his friends. His business was busier than ever, and despite the lifelong pain that would continue to accompany his healing wound, it was all worth.

“Oh, baby,” he sighs, contentment soaking into the fiber of his very being as he imagines your cute face within is mind, and he smiles.

Definitely, definitely worth it.

~おしまい~

Date Started: January 22, 2016

Date Ended: January 18, 2018

Total Word Count: 84,943

A/N: Hey, thank you guys all so much for taking the time to read this series. A lot changed since I started writing it. Oh, Baby started as a one-shot that turned into a series solely based on the fact that so many people asked for there to be more. I had my ups and down with the series--there were periods where I didn’t update it for a long time--but I made it to 20 chapters, like I originally intended, and hopefully you guys enjoyed them all :’)

Officially, this is the last chapter of Oh, Baby. If there are questions you have, or loose ends that you want answers to, feel free to send me an ask! I’d be happy to answer any questions about the series that come my way. So don’t hesitate to ask! :) (I also made a Q&A post with some ideas of questions to ask, in case you’re not sure what to say, but want to know more ^^)

Again, thank you all so much. I hope you enjoyed it.

#oh baby #namjoon x reader #bts mafia au #bts reader insert #bts smut #jungkook fic #jimin fic #taehyung fic #hoseok fic #yoongi fic #jin fic #namjoon fic #namjoon smut

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cherry3point14 · 6 years

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Three men and a Mary

Pairing: John x Mary Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy stuff but mostly fluffy fluff. Word Count: 1,460 words. Square Filled: Pregnancy Summary: The story of bringing the brothers Winchester into the world. A/N: This is a fill for @spnfluffbingo also it’s literally pure fluff. It’s not my fault that because, with foresight, it also hurts.

2018 SPN Fluff Bingo Masterlist Ao3 link if you prefer.

Being pregnant the first time is a roller coaster ride on account of everything being new. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t also scary as hell. Especially with how much this baby kicks. At one point Mary asks the nurses if it’s normal, but they only smile sweetly and tell her that she’s got a little athlete in there. John agrees and wonders if they have the next Terry Bradshaw on their hands. Of course, he's thinking about throwing around a football with his son, not the bruises on her internal organs. She couldn’t complain though, besides the tiny feet working away at her, the pregnancy is textbook. Even as the holidays approach and she still can’t stand the smell of ham, it’s picture-perfect. No false starts or anything. Baby Dean, named for her mother, is born a cold morning in January and he pops out a week early at that. He's out so fast that hours later she quips that he didn’t like it in there. It’s her way of thanking whoever was watching over her for the quick delivery. For someone who had hunted the stuff of nightmares, the thing that had kept her awake at night was giving birth. As speedy as he was born Dean does have a big head. It's big enough that the Doctor feels the need to reassure them more than once that he’ll grow into it. It almost earns him the honor of being named for his grandfather, someone else renowned for their large head. But it’s his eyes that are his grandmothers. His eyes and his tufty golden hair the same as hers. The resemblance is uncanny and almost takes Mary's breath away. Like her mother is alive again but only with John’s square jaw. That’s how Deanna gets her namesake. It turns out Dean hadn’t been in a rush to get out, he was only getting restless to meet his parents, Mary in particular. Dean is a clingy baby. John calls him a mama’s boy but it’s soft and without an ounce of malice. He thinks his son, his son, must be pretty smart. If John had to choose between the two of them he’d pick her too. Dean spends entire days refusing to sleep anywhere else but resting on Mary’s chest. John comes home on more than one occasion to find her on the sofa with Dean snuggled in her arms. Her eyes would always light up at the sight of her husband, her escape. He’d return the smile only for it to become a knowing smirk when Mary begs him for a drink or a snack. It’s all very amusing to John who laughs and asks her why she doesn’t ween him out of it. He didn't build Dean a crib for nothing. Mary defends her baby boy with all the adoration of a new mother. She insists that he does sometimes before she gives up and melts into staring at her baby boy again. Her face still caught in amazement that this tiny pink thing is something they made together. She always finishes the conversation with the same whispered sigh, “he’s so peaceful here.” Looking at them both it’s hard for John to disagree, Mary looks pretty cozy herself. It’s months later when Summer arrives that she finally relents, forcing herself to endure Dean wailing until he learns to sleep in his room. It is a nice crib after all and once she gets her freedom back it’s hard to let go of it again. Except for the odd time when they're both exhausted and fall asleep together. That doesn’t count. Dean grows into a bouncy toddler. He’s a kid that at two years old is already fiercely protective of everyone around him. Mary sees it when her and John fight. Dean gravitates to comfort her even before he understands what’s happening as if her two years old can already read her like an open book. He’s also a little ball of sunshine. John teaches him to play ball and Mary teaches him to read. They think it evens out to a pretty well rounded little kid. Even with the increasing fights scattered throughout the years, Dean is such an angel that they decide to try for another. Neither of them wants Dean to be lonely but only Mary sees Dean’s face when he comes home from a playdate. Only Mary sees how much he longs for a permanent partner in crime. John always wanted two anyway. Both secretly hope it’ll fix them as well. Mary can’t remember who said pregnancy number two would be easier but she’ll later claim it was John’s terrible mistake. Baby number two doesn’t kick as much, that’s where the positives end. She swears that she shows earlier this time and her bump is bigger. John says that’s nonsense but it's the way Dean looks at her stomach with wonder in his wide green eyes that draws a smile. It’s bigger but she can live with it. The morning sickness? Not so much. With Dean, it had been a few times in the morning for four weeks, at most five. This time she’s lucky to stop feeling nauseous by noon, and it lasts well over a month until it finally fades after ten grueling weeks. John theorizes that it’s a girl on account of how fussy the second baby is. Mary does not find the joke amusing while she’s trying to find a dress to cover the beach ball she’s smuggling. Then April arrives and so does an unprecedented heat. Mary spends entire days not knowing which part of her body is sweating. Although even if she could tell she probably couldn't reach since she's now the size of a small car. By mid-April, she’s on bed rest but her childless neighbor two doors down comes every day to help her. Patty chases Dean around with the vigor Mary once possessed and Mary has to remind herself that she will again. Of course, Mary has no idea that baby number two will be two weeks late. The heat peaks on May 1st when she feels something familiar stir in her stomach. It’s already late afternoon and she’s suffered the sticky spring heat all day, but she still pinks with happiness. It's all about to be over. The hospital room is hotter than hell and she screams to that effect several times during her thirteen-hour labor. No amount of ice chips will do. John says maybe this one likes it in there too much, so she clamps down on his hand extra hard as a contraction hits. After two extra weeks and thirteen hours, she’s almost ready to kill someone and John Winchester is the only none medical person in the room. Somehow she resists and is duly rewarded because at six am on May 2nd he’s out. It’s another boy and he casts the same spell over John and Mary that Dean had four years before. She finally laughs, it doesn’t feel like she’s done that in weeks. And she runs a gentle hand over his tiny bald head telling John that he’s definitely a Sam. Later they bring in Dean who, despite the preparation, can’t seem to believe that the wriggling, hairless thing wrapped up in blankets is his baby brother. Or that it’s what was inside his mummy’s tummy anyway. Mary can see his confusion when Dean crawls next to her on the bed and rests his little hand on her middle with a childish frown. But John says the magic words, “Dean, this is your baby brother, Sam.” That’s when they see it. They see what their faces must have looked like hours ago. They see the moment Dean sets his eyes on Sam’s squishy little face and falls in love. Love is a big concept for a four-year-old, but he doesn’t need to understand it to feel it. He’s a big brother. Mary thinks only a monster wouldn’t tear up at the sight of Dean pressing a kiss to Sam’s forehead. Or that’s what she says watching them through blurred vision. John beams, proud, and ruffles Dean’s hair which leads to Dean asking if Sam will ever grow any. May 2nd, 1983 is the day the Winchesters become a complete unit. A whole. It’s the day they spend together in a hospital room with nothing but each other. Counting Sam’s toes while Dean asks every question his young mind can think of. For those few hours, there are none of the fights John and Mary have made it through, there’s none of the pain she’s suffered for nine and a half months. It’s just them, the Winchesters, and what they can only imagine will be forever.

#spnfluffbingo #spn #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #mary winchester #john x mary #do they have a ship name?#FLUFF #FWP #Fluff without plot #The title is funny because in Three Men and a Baby the baby was called Mary #ha getit?#THEY ONLY GET THIS FOR SIX MONTHS #first time I've written for SPN and it's not reader insert #go figure

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peanutbutterjelly-pie · 6 years

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Part 2/3 of my Masterlist, a compilation of AU stories - with special mentions of “High School”, “College”, “Coffee Shop”,etc.!!

Also watch out for the other two parts:

Canon!verse/Canon Divergence

Alternate Universe: Supernatural Elements

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE:

A Single Kiss by whelvenwings

>> So did you kiss him?

Cas read Anna’s text message with a sigh, standing next to his bed in his pyjamas, only just woken up. He should never, ever have allowed his sister even the slightest of glimpses into his meagre dating life.

(Words: 4k)

A Different Kind of Fairy Tale by lemonsorbae

The best part about Castiel’s day is going to work among the books.

That is, until the mechanic walks through the door.

(Words: 6k)

A Man May Change by Hekate1308

Sam wishes he didn't hate the person his brother has become. He really does.

(Words: 7k)

All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter by aileenrose

Sam's too busy to pick up Sarah's engagement ring from the jeweler's.

Enter Dean. He minds just a little, and then not at all.

(Words: 8k)

Every Dog Has Its Day by aileenrose

Dean's new to Sioux Falls. In between meeting the mysterious Cas Novak, and helping save a puppy whose name they can't agree on, he thinks this place can become something like home.

(Words: 12k)

After Midnight by Winglesss

"How can you know you don’t like guys if you never tried to sleep with one?"

Dean can't get Sam's words out of his head so he goes and picks up a guy. It doesn't take long before he realizes how extremely lucky he was to find someone like Castiel.

(Words: 13k)

Understanding That Reference by Carrieosity

Castiel loves working in the library, except for the boring parts. When a string of complicated and entertaining questions begin to flow into his email box, courtesy of the "Ask-A-Librarian" reference service, he finds his boredom vanishing and being replaced with an increasing curiosity to learn who's behind them.

(Words: 16k)

So Glad We Made It by Annie D (scaramouche)

At twelve years old, Dean makes a friend, who becomes his best friend, who will eventually become the love of his life.

(Words: 16k)

Only You by cylobaby27

After John's death, Dean moves out to Palo Alto to be closer to Sam, who is studying at Stanford. Despite their proximity, the brothers barely have time to see each other between Sam's studying and Dean's two jobs, leaving Dean feeling tired and lonely. However, when he meets a slightly awkward and completely serious graduate student named Castiel, all of that changes.

(Words: 17k)

Sharing the Rain Dog by almaasi

When some asshole hits a dog with his car and drives off, the first two people on the scene are Dean and Castiel. Castiel's an FBI agent with a plane to catch, and he doesn't have time to take the dog to the vet. Dean's a musician, and he doesn't have the money. An agreement is reached: Dean goes, Castiel pays, and they'll exchange details and meet again to work things out. But who gets the dog? Sooner or later they're going to realise that having shared custody of one pitbull isn't ideal. She needs one home, not two. One stable, loving home...

(Words: 20k)

Once Upon A Time in a Disney Store by noxsoulmate

When Castiel Novak gets sick and loses his voice for a few days, he comes up with a clever trick to explain his lost voice to the kids in the Disney Store he works at. One little Mary Winchester, however, takes his note too serious and promptly starts a quest for his prince. Will her charming uncle be able to break the curse and be his one true love?

(Words: 23k)

Shut Up (Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is) by kototyph

Dean's done some pretty stupid things, but getting drunk-hitched in Vegas to a colleague he barely knows might just take the cake. His surprise husband, Castiel, is a little weird but likable despite that, and Dean figures they’ll go back to Boston, get a quiet annulment, and go their separate ways. Six weeks later, he’s still married to one of the strangest, most genuine and definitely most dangerously lov-- likable guys he's ever known. Dean doesn't know why or really even how it’s happening, but it’s getting harder and harder to remember that he has divorce papers to file.

(Words: 24k)

Wide Open Spaces by bellacatbee

Dean is supposed to drive Sam across country to his new job but, driving late at night, Dean runs them off the road onto farmland and straight into the side of a barn. Dean is arrested for dangerous driving and sentenced to community service, fixing what he broke at the farm.

At first, Dean just wants to finish and get the hell out of town, but to his surprise he finds himself drawn to Castiel Novak, the farm’s owner.

Castiel is unlike anyone else Dean has ever met. Dean begins to fall for him and for the quiet country life Castiel leads.

(Words: 23k)

Life In Pink by youaresunlight

At just 33 years old, Dean Winchester is one of the most sought-after wedding planners in the city. He’s chased his dream ever since he was a kid and is now on the brink of making partner at his firm. But the wedding that’ll make or break his promotion? Is his best friend Dr. Castiel Novak’s. It’s going to be the event of the season - unlimited budget, no expense spared - and it’s the kind of task that Dean has been waiting for… except he’s hopelessly in love with Cas.

(Words: 25k)

Back the Way You Came by tellthenight

Dean Winchester knows he has a lot going right in his life–good family, friends–but he can’t seem to let go of one nagging regret. He should have left while he had the chance. Instead, he’s stuck in place wishing for someone he’ll never see again.

Cas Novak never thought he’d end up here– back in his mother’s house, taking care of her medical decisions. He planned to take care of everything as quickly as possible and get back home–until he runs into a former classmate who insists that he should go to their 10-year reunion that weekend. Cas refuses the offer until he hears that Dean Winchester will be there.

(Words: 25k)

Cars, Cats & an Idiot by Serisia

Who would’ve thought that helping your brother buy a car could change your whole life? Certainly not Dean Winchester, but that’s exactly what happens, when he accidentally makes the blue-eyed car-salesman run away.

(Words: 26k)

Your Favorite Hello by jupiter_james

Accounts Manager Dean Winchester and CPA Castiel Novak have been working at the same large company for several months, only interacting through office IM. Then a typo on an expense report leads to an unexpected phone call that results in a simmering crush on both ends of the line, despite neither knowing what the other looks like. Office romances typically never work out, especially when one of them has a slightly bad (though undeserved) reputation, and the other has a slightly bad track record with lovers. But their first face-to-face meeting at the company Christmas party makes them both willing to give it a go. Through a whirlwind romance, Dean wonders if they're moving too fast, and Castiel worries that he's opening himself up for another devastating heartbreak. Together, it turns out that sometimes good things do happen.

(Words: 28k)

The Inescapable Dean Winchester by gefhrlich

Castiel has been infatuated with Dean Winchester since he was fifteen years old. And despite the years that pass, he just can’t shake the man. Then again, he isn’t sure he wants to.

(Words: 30k)

Peanut Butter-Pumpkin Wedding Cake by Sparseparsley

Dean is a waiter in a strip club to put his kid brother through school. Castiel is dragged to the club as a part of his sister Anna's bachelorette party. Dean and Cas hit it off, but Dean thinks Cas is the one marrying Anna.

(Words: 31k)

Freebies and Oak Trees by violue

It’s just a joke. Dean adding Castiel Novak to his “Celebrity Freebie” list is just a joke. Dean has a girlfriend, and besides, it’s not like he’s ever going to meet Castiel, let alone sleep with him. Right?

(Words: 32k)

First Gentleman Wanted by youaresunlight

President of the United States Castiel Novak is popular, charismatic, and knee-deep in campaigning for a second term. He’d be the ideal candidate if it weren’t for the fact that he hasn’t dated once while in political office. With his opponent’s relentless PR team calling him incapable of emotional commitment, Castiel’s staff decides to remedy the situation by finding their boss a fake, picture-perfect boyfriend. And when Dean Winchester enters the scene, he and Cas become America’s new favorite couple, except they’ve got a whole lot of history between them and complicated feelings to resolve.

(Words: 32k)

Prosopagnosia by misseditallagain

“I could turn around right now and I wouldn’t be able to spot you out of a lineup. There is nothing remarkable about you I could identify and say: there, that is Dean.”

“So you mean I’m not just another pretty face?”

(Words: 33k)

Boys Will Be Boys by im_an_idjit

Since the age of ten, Dean Winchester has been the bane of Castiel's existence.

(Words: 37k)

Just for the Holidays by Fallen_Angel_Meg

After going through some tough times, Jess, Castiel's best friend, decides the best thing for him to do is to get away for Christmas. She secretly signs up their shared house on a home exchange website and it doesn't take long for them to get some interest. Castiel ends up trading houses with Sam Winchester, despite his hesitations to do so. So now Castiel has to spend his Christmas alone in Lawrence, Kansas. Which isn't so bad because Castiel is looking for some alone time right now, not wanting to get romantically involved with anyone. That is, until he meets Dean Winchester and things get complicated.

(Words: 42k)

Run Boy Run by DarcyDelaney

Cas likes to run. He likes that it’s something he can do alone whenever he wants, something to clear his head and decrease his anxiety. All that changes when his sister, Anna, volunteers him to be a guide for a blind runner who wants to participate in the Boston Marathon. Cas is completely, totally, 100% against this at first, but once he meets said runner, the snarky and (if Cas is being honest) ridiculously attractive Dean Winchester, he starts to have a change of heart. Maybe running with a partner won’t be so bad after all.

(Words: 42k)

Return to Sender by aileenrose

"He's going to let Cas do this thing for him--he's going to let Cas make him so fucking happy." In the first year after Dean loses his brother, Jess comes up with an idea. She wants to meet Cas Novak, the man who has Sam Winchester's heart in his chest.

(Words: 47k)

The Complete Works of Emmanuel Allen by violue

Dean Winchester, reluctant business owner, reluctant home owner, and reluctant cat owner, is striking up a very promising friendship with the author of his favorite book series.

And he has no idea.

(Words: 56k)

Strangers on a Bus by Terene

Castiel is flummoxed. This is a social situation he is not equipped to handle. What is the protocol when the stranger sitting next to you on a bus, whom you incidentally find very attractive, falls asleep with his head on your shoulder?

(Words: 60k)

Twenty First Century Blues by thepinupchemist

When John Winchester dies, Dean and Sam pack up their lives in Lawrence and make a new home in Sioux Falls. Despite a rough start, both brothers find love in unexpected places, and for once it feels like life might be going right for the Winchesters.

Then one of Sam's classmates turns up dead, and everything falls to pieces. The people of Sioux Falls start to suspect the new arrivals -- and as more bodies turn up, the suspicion only grows.

(Words: 62k)

Accidental First Date by Powerfulweak

Dean's date cancels on him at the last minute. Luckily, the stranger in the waiting area is willing to share a table with him.

(Words: 65k)

Forget-Me-Not Blues by noangelsinthegarrison

Sam and Jess are getting married and Dean couldn’t be any happier for them. Honestly, they’re kind of disgustingly perfect for each other and Dean’s pretty damn excited about staying with them the week before the wedding. He’s Sam’s best man, of course, and he doesn’t even mind that Jess has her own best man to share in all the organisational duties. The more the merrier, right?

Except Dean must have done something to epically piss off the universe because Jess’s best man just happens to be Castiel friggin’ Novak. He’s got even hotter since High School, but apparently no friendlier and if Cas wants to spend the week pretending like they’ve never met before? Fine. Two can play at that game.

(Words: 69k)

You're The Only Stranger I Need by lyndsie_l

When Castiel receives a text from a stranger, he finds himself engaging in conversations daily. He's drawn to the outgoing college student and longs to interact with the other man as often as he can. Slowly, he finds himself falling in love with the other and can't imagine ever meeting a more beautiful person.

The only problem?

He's never actually met this other man.

(Words: 70k)

Angel Cookies by noxsoulmate

“On Christmas Eve, if you eat Angel Cookies right before bed and then dream of your one true love, he will be your destiny.”

The Shurley clan sure believe their old family legend, but not Castiel James – not since he was a pudgy teenager, running down the church aisle on Christmas Day, trying to stop his very handsome and very straight teacher Dean Winchester from marrying someone else. He may be grown-up, well-toned, bestselling Young Adult’s book author “C. S. James” now, but Castiel will never forget that day. And he’ll never fall foolishly in love again, especially not for Dean Winchester.

But when the wish for a big family Christmas from his sick father brings him back home, Castiel has to confront his past. And not only that: a letter from a little fan from his home town is weighing heavy on his conscience. Reaching out to a troubled kid might endanger his secret identity. Adding to the problem is the shock of discovering that Dean is the little girl’s father – unattached and hotter than ever. Dean’s smile still makes Castiel melt, but Castiel knows that ship has sailed. The fact that Dean seems to be on board this time, however, doesn’t make it any easier for him.

(Words: 74k)

Never Not Fantastic by thestoryinsideme

When television star Dean Winchester makes a stop at the Rogue Wave Cafe, owner Castiel Novak initially takes notice - and exception to - the celebrity's presence in the all-but-forgotten beachside town where the age of the average resident is sixty-five.

(Words: 76k)

Should've Just Asked by Annie D (scaramouche)

Despite their age gap and differing social circles, Castiel has struck up a warm friendship with Mary Winchester, a wealthy widowed socialite. When Castiel needs a place to stay, Mary invites him into her house, where there’s loads of spare room. Castiel’s aware that they make an odd pair, but he doesn’t fully realize how things look to outsiders, especially to Mary’s eldest son. All Dean Winchester sees is that his mom has apparently hooked up with a hot young guy (who is totally Dean’s type) and that makes things… weird.

(Words: 78k)

Win A Date With Dean Winchester by FollowingButterflies

When Hollywood actor Dean Winchester gets caught up in a scandal that could threaten his career if exposed by the press his agent draws up a deal with the press. They won't expose the story if they can run a competition offering a date with Dean as the prize. Everything is fine until Dean meets the winner, Anna Milton, and her brother Castiel who Dean can't seem to stop staring at or thinking about despite the fact that Castiel clearly thinks Dean is a talentless moron.

(Words: 80k)

The Unwavering Heart of a Winchester by violue

There’s no point in mincing words. Sam is dead, and without him Dean is a drunken shell of who he used to be. When he finally pulls himself out of a growing pile of whiskey bottles, Dean finds it hard to go back to his life. With one flippant comment from a friend, Dean thinks he might finally have a way to make peace with the loss; Sam was an organ donor, and Dean’s going to find the recipients, talk to them, and see how their lives are better because of his little brother. For the first six stops on his road trip, things go mostly according to plan, and then he meets the man who has Sam’s heart. Dean had hoped he might find peace on this trip… he never expected to find love.

(Words: 87k)

The Way to a Man’s Heart is Through Chlamydia by violue

Dean doesn't expect to see his one night stand again, but then again he also doesn't expect to find out he has an STD. Sometimes life is hilarious like that.

(Words: 89k)

Imperfect Proposals by Fallen_Angel_Meg

Dean Winchester has a dream of being a successful architect- one that may or may not be out of his reach. So when he receives a promising job at Designs of Divinity, a reputable architectural firm, he is beyond happy. It's everything he could ask for. Sure, he may only be the assistant of Castiel Novak, a well known architect and project manager, but he doesn't even care. It's a start. It isn't until he starts working for Castiel that he realizes the guy isn't exactly who he thought he'd be, and his dream job turns into a living hell. Dean decides he's had enough when Castiel denies him time off to attend his brother's wedding. But just when Dean thinks it can't get any worse, he finds out that he's being forced to marry Castiel to keep him from being deported. Fan-friggin'-tastic.

(Words: 111k)

Clean Air by anactoria

Centuries after the surface of the earth was devastated by an unknown disaster, the remnants of humanity live in a series of vast underground silos, each unaware of the existence of the others.

For the inhabitants of Silo 34, the silo is the world, and the only world they know. Questions about the outside world are forbidden, and asking them is what got Dean Winchester's parents killed. He isn't even sure himself that they weren't crazy.

That all changes when he hears a voice on the radio -- a voice from another world.

(Words: 122k)

* * * *

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE: HIGH SCHOOL

Blackboard Painting in the Dead of Night by whelvenwings

Cas thinks that the school's latest idea of getting students to write their thoughts on a huge, public blackboard is... well, black-boring, until someone replies to his angry scribbling. Several bad puns and some Kant quotations later, Cas may finally meet the mysterious messenger who anonymously turned his life upside-down.

(Words: 4k)

Sometimes It Works Out by messtiels

Castiel Novak is your average teenager, with the exception of being casually brilliant. His longtime crush, Dean Winchester, is the attractive, charismatic, and overall popular guy in high school. As unexpected situations arise, Castiel is faced with the challenge of overcoming his self-doubt, and at the same time he is completely clueless.

(Words: 9k)

flour in your hair by cassiewrites

Dean and Cas are paired up for a project in Home Ec in which they have to take care of a "flour baby" for a week.

(Words: 10k)

It's Always the End of the World Somewhere by Annie D (scaramouche)

The status quo is this: Dean is the popular captain of the football team, and Castiel is the off-kilter nobody who doesn't so much as breathe the same air as Dean. Then senior year happens and the status quo is shot to smithereens.

(Words: 21k)

In This Secluded Spot I Respond As I Wouldn't Dare Elsewhere by RhymePhile

It's 1995, and Castiel's high school years are destined to be difficult: home-schooled until eighth grade, he is awkward, shy, and socially inept. The weird kid with the funny name would rather isolate himself and draw in his sketchbook than deal with the constant bullying he faces every day. Things only get worse in his junior year when he excels in home economics class, leading the captain of the baseball team, Alastair, to start taunting him for being gay.

Then new student Dean Winchester arrives at Flour Bluff High School, sharing many of Castiel's classes. Castiel has seen his type before -- handsome, athletic, arrogant, and sure to be the most popular kid in school. But Castiel eventually learns that he and Dean have more in common than he thought, and they form an unlikely friendship.

(Words: 34k)

Count On Me by swoopswoop

Castiel Novak is an unpopular kid at school, his brother’s reputation the only thing keeping him from a regular beating, but not the occasional shove. When one other person in the school helps him out, it inadvertently starts a marathon game of IOU.

(Words: 41k)

Exalted in the scene by zation

John decides that his boys needs some goddamn education and makes them settle down in a small town while he keeps on hunting. Dean is reluctant at first but then he meets school punching bag Castiel Novak and suddenly things are starting to look up.

Or,

The one where Dean tries desperately to save the one damsel in distress who turns out to be more than reluctant at the prospect of being saved.

(Words: 50k)

Look Right Through Me by darkforetold

It’s his senior year in high school and Dean cares about little else than what makes him feel good. When an unexpected tragedy strikes his family, it shatters his world. Heartache tears at him while guilt worms through the wounds—and only a second chance can set him on the road toward healing. As his world reshapes, Dean rediscovers the importance of family, transcends loss and chooses something he never expected to find: love.

(Words: 53k)

Suburban War by squeemonster

Moving to Lawrence with his family is the most significant event of Dean Winchester's life. It brings a stability he's never known, and the only thing to have more of a profound impact on him is Castiel Novak: the two boys become fast friends the day they meet. But as Dean grows older, he dreams for something beyond the monotony and constraints of suburbia, and he is haunted by the inexplicable feeling that he was born for something more than what this life offers. As he struggles to reconcile the person he yearns to be with what his family and friends expect of him, a fateful choice exposes just how fragile his life in the suburbs is, and possibly risks losing the best friend he's ever had.

(Words: 105k)

* * * *

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE: COLLEGE

Perfect Imperfections by youaresunlight

Castiel Novak is a graduate student teaching Intro to Calculus. He’s hard-working and awkward and shy, tends to avoid the gossip among his students, though he can’t help but pay attention when they bring up the assistant coach of the rugby team.

(Words: 3k)

Please Leave a Message by StarlightDragon

During his first semester of college, Dean Winchester slowly falls for a guy he’s never seen and never met, through a series of messages exchanged between the two of them on the whiteboard pinned to Castiel’s dorm room door.

(Words: 12k)

The Graveyard by amarillogrande

“Okay, look. You finish it, then you stick it up on top of the shelves. And then…well, the bottle is there to remind you. Hence the name—“ Dean spreads his arms, indicating the endless rows of glass. “The graveyard.”

Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak are best friends, living together for the past two years and about to graduate in the spring. It might take a visit from Dean's little brother to get them to realize just exactly how they feel about each other.

(Words: 19k)

TutorMate by faeryn

Sam leaves Dean's laptop logged in to some app called "TutorMate" and Dean meets his brother's tutor. Cas helps him with his own work and they strike up a friendship. Before long Dean finds himself growing attached to the cute, clever Cas and flirtatiously suggests they go on a date if he applies himself to his college work. Cas agrees, but Dean discovers his online friend is not quite what he expected.

(Or, in which Dean thinks he's met a cute girl and finds out he's actually met a cute boy.)

(Words: 21k)

Inevitable Homoeroticism in Spanish Romantic Heroes by prosopopeya

Dean is a grad student studying for his MA in Spanish literature, and he’s pretty content with his sexuality as it is -- that is, fairly undefined and also secret. His attraction to Castiel, a professor to the undergrads, doesn't seem like a big deal until it becomes a very big deal, and Dean scrambles to keep his head above water.

(Words: 42k)

Your Call Cannot Be Completed As Dialed by eBob, K_K_TiBal

AU in which Castiel accidentally sends a text message to the wrong number and befriends the person at the other end of the line. However, accidents don’t just happen accidentally, and sometimes two completely different people are exactly what the other needs.

(Words: 65k)

Free to Be You and Me by same_space

Coffee Shop!AU and University!AU rolled into one. Castiel Novak is the introverted English Literature major at the University of Kansas. Dean Winchester is the elusive cool guy who happens to work in Castiel's favourite coffee shop. This is how they meet, and this is how Anna and Crowley play cupid.

(Words: 70k)

All the Way by cadignan, Guu

Castiel spends the first two weeks of college in much the same way he spent the previous years: alone with his books. He’s fine with it—he enrolled in college to learn, after all. Then in his first chemistry lab, he has the bad luck of being paired with snide, good-for-nothing Ruby, and the further misfortune of sitting behind Dean Winchester, the world’s most beautiful distraction. Ruby catches Castiel staring at Dean and makes him an offer.

(Words: 81k)

Hear You Me by through_shadows_falling

Castiel is a college graduate stuck in two dead-end, part-time jobs. Oh, and he's Deaf...which to his oldest brother Michael makes him something to constantly fret over. It's not Castiel's fault that he doesn't know what he wants to do with his life, right? Not like it's Michael's business anyways.

Enter Dean Winchester. A chance encounter with the man has the power to change Castiel's life - and in the end, maybe, just maybe, it will help him finally understand and accept who he is and what he's meant to do.

(Words: 84k)

* * * *

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE: TEACHER

What is Love? by regardinglove

When Dean’s students ask him about what it means to be in love, he gets quite the awakening about his own feelings for a certain blue-eyed teacher.

(Words: 2k)

Chili Peppers by justanothersong

Dr. Winchester hears an off hand comment from one of his students and find himself browsing a website dedicated to rating university professors. He's not surprised by his rating -- but is a little miffed to see the department chair has an even better one. Clearly, something needs to be done about this.

(Words: 13k)

Before I Can Breathe Easy by ShastaFirecracker

Castiel Novak, anthropology professor and recent divorcee; a half-drunk hookup with the bartender from his brother's bachelor party; cue the morning after, with full attendant nudity, awkwardness, walking into doors, and running into one of his students at the worst possible time.

(Words: 14k)

Learning Curve by mtothedestiel

Dean is a pre-school teacher and Castiel Novak is his new student's intriguing guardian. They both know the sacrifices that come with caring for others, but, over time, they learn what it means to want something for themselves.

(Words: 38k)

Try-Something Tuesday by almaasi

Human AU. Dean Winchester teaches a third-grade class. He's new to this whole ‘bisexual’ thing - but by pure happenstance, he meets Castiel: a particularly dapper male librarian who moonlights as a substitute teacher. Dean's curious and Castiel is willing, so why the hell not?

Except, fate never intended it to be one-time-only...

(Words: 48k)

Easy Now, With My Heart by casfallsinlove

Dean Winchester is a kindergarten teacher. Castiel Milton is a writer slash works-in-a-coffee-shop. He also happens to be the extremely hot one-night stand that Dean never intended to see again other than in his own fantasies (he’s classy like that). But suddenly Cas is everywhere and Dean is convinced that Fate is out to get him. And maybe they do this thing backwards, but that doesn’t have to mean they can’t make it in the end, right?

(Words: 50k)

Crossroads State by Mercy

Castiel has a nice predictable structured life teaching high school, even if he happens to be overqualified for it. Then this guy moves in around the corner and literally knocks him on his ass.

(Words: 51k)

Like Real People by charvelle

Dean Winchester is a respected literature teacher at Lawrence's best private school, yet he feels like he's still a complete and utter travesty of a human being. Months after his father's death, he's yet to come to terms with the negative impact John Winchester had on his life. Though he's determined never to admit it, the only thing Dean's ever wanted was an Apple Pie Life: it's something that's been dangled in front of his face, though he's certain he could never deserve it.

While Dean struggles to come to terms with the isolated, lonely life he's made for himself, a disruption comes in the form of Castiel Novak, Lawrence Private's newest faculty member. Those blue eyes and raspy voice are things Dean can't ignore for long, and when he's forced to stop fighting his affections, Dean finds his lonely life turned upside down.

Is it possible he could deserve an Apple Pie Life after all?

(Words: 135k)

* * * *

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE: DOCTOR/NURSE

Recovery In Room 233 by eshcaine

Sam is in the hospital and a bored fidgety Dean means trouble for the nursing staff. Luckily, Balthazar has something that will keep Dean occupied.....

(Words: 11k)

Nothing to Moan About by Hippivickyx

Doctors Dean and Castiel don't get along, before tragedy forces mostly Castiel to reevaluate.

(Words: 12k)

Chasing Life by zerostumbleine33

Castiel is the perfusionist on call when a young college kid, Sam Winchester, is brought in with Acute Respiratory Distress and needs to be put on an emergent life support machine called ECMO. His brother Dean is there with him every day, and along the way he forms a surprising bond with Castiel.

Afraid of hospital rules and his own self doubts, Castiel keeps their relationship strictly in the friendship area, wary of losing his job as he falls hard for a patient’s family member, that he is pretty sure isn’t into men anyway. Either way, it’s against the rules and he’s not about to break them.

(Words: 18k)

It's Only Love We're Falling In by zeppx

Human AU. Castiel is a nurse. Dean isn’t a very pleasant person. Castiel and Dean don’t get along at first, then, naturally, like in most romantic comedies, things happen. Like unwillingly falling in love.

(Words: 19k)

Dean Goes to the Doctor by thatwriterlady

When Dean wakes up one morning feeling like he swallowed razor blades and his skin is on fire he figures he'd deal with it, but when he coughs up blood he makes the reluctant decision to head in to see his doctor, except his doctor has retired. The new doctor that has taken over his practice is the one and only Castiel Novak, and Dean finds the new doctor more interesting than he wants to, and somehow this doctor gets Dean to come in again. Shortly after meeting the new doctor he gets injured on the job and lands himself in the hospital in need of surgery. The handsome doctor comes to see him and sweet fluffiness ensues.

(Words: 21k)

The City Doctor by palominopup

Dr. Dean Winchester is on his way from LA to New York to start a new practice. He drives through a small town in Kansas and causes a traffic accident. The town sheriff serves him a citation and he has to appear in traffic court. The judge sentences him to six weeks of community service – helping the town’s elderly doctor. Culture shock ensues. Enter, Cas Novak, the town’s large animal vet.

(Words: 36k)

Preacher Comfort by almaasi

Dean Winchester works as a nurse at an after-hours medical clinic. He's a champion at what he does, but for him, professionalism has its pitfalls: good-looking patients make him flustered. Luckily, his fly-by-night infatuation evaporates within minutes, since most patients only swing by once. Castiel (fondly known as Bee Sting Guy around the clinic) is one of those iniquitously handsome fellows – and he keeps coming back. He's also a Catholic priest, 94% asexual, and in need of the tender love that happens to be Dean's speciality.

(Words: 43k)

What I Need by Jacqueline Albright-Beckett (xaandria)

A joking phrase commonly heard between a surgeon and his tech is "Give me what I need, not what I ask for." Dr. Novak and his tech Dean will soon learn the impact this phrase has on life outside the operating room.

(Words: 47k)

Your Very Own Doctor Sexy by words_reign_here

It's an easy and average life for Dean Winchester. He worked hard, helped Sam and Ruby through law school while helping Bobby expand his garage. There isn't much to want until a car crash changes Dean down to the very core of who he thought he was. Working closely with the Novak brothers, all doctors, changes his life in a way he can't account for.

(Words: 51k)

Vital Signs by emmy_award, hubrisandwax

The nurse grinned again and it did something odd to Castiel’s stomach. Too many Lucky Charms, he rationalized. Lucky Charms and pain meds don’t mix.

“I’m Dean. And I’ll be your nurse this evenin’.”

(Words: 67k)

Any Little Heartbreak by followthattardis

Dean Winchester knows everything there is to know about the human heart.

Well.

Anatomically speaking.

(Words: 77k)

Carried Away by charmedcas

Living in New York City, Dean Winchester's life consists of working as a pediatric nurse, leaving little room for free time. His best friend and roommate, Castiel Novak, happens to be a surgical resident at the same hospital that Dean works at. Even though they see a lot of each other, the two of them have learned to coexist with ease.

When the annual fundraising gala becomes the talk of the hospital, it only makes sense for both of them to pretend they're together to kill two birds with one stone. The gossip about them finally stops, and no one tries to set them up with a date for the gala. It's easy enough for Dean and Castiel to act like a couple at first. However, they each end up getting more than they signed up for as the line dividing what's fake and what's real between them blurs.

(Words: 82k)

Lead By Your Beating Heart by FollowingButterflies

After a night of celebrating (heavy drinking) with his brother surgical intern Dean Winchester discovers that his resident, talented Cardio surgeon Castiel Novak, is...well a huge douche bag...kind of hot but still a huge douche bag. A douche bag that he's stuck with for the rest of the year, that's if he survives the year without Castiel killing him and making it look like an accident. So why is it that an easy friendship forms between the two men that swiftly becomes something Dean never expected to find when he moved to Chicago.

(Words: 113k)

* * * *

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE: POLICE/FIREFIGHTER

Keep Calm by NuwandaSnicket

When Castiel's cat escapes up a tree, he has no choice but to call the fire department. Unfortunately for him, they send the sexiest fireman they have. Or is it fortunately?

(Words: 3k)

Burning Up for You, Baby by you_idjits

The Kansas City Police Department has always had a friendly rivalry with the Kansas City Fire Department, sure, but Castiel Novak has never been friendly. No, Castiel Novak is The Enemy.

“He has to be stopped,” Dean says, “and I have to be the one to do it.”

Or, the one where Dean is a policeman and Cas is a firefighter, and they get into a dangerous prank war.

(Words: 5k)

Follow You by youaresunlight

Detectives Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak are assigned to a stakeout that’ll confine them to a hotel room for ninety-six hours. And as if it isn’t hard enough being cooped up together that long, Dean has to be head over heels for Cas and can’t stop thinking about kissing him.

(Words: 5k)

Muted Angels by geckoholic

There's nothing worse than a case involving dead kids, at least in the book of Detective Dean Winchester. It's just his luck that his partner is the lieutenant's favorite, and she chooses to give them the high-profile murder case of a dead girl from the suburbs. More deaths follow, and the two of them get sucked into the world of religious cults and ritualistic murders. In the face of that, Dean's feelings for aforementioned partner are the least of his problems.

(Words: 14k)

Secondhand Angel by cylobaby27

Castiel Novak owns a small used bookstore in Lawrence, Kansas. He is content with the peace and quiet of his current life, and can't imagine allowing anything to change that. Then Dean Winchester enters his shop.

(Words: 24k)

At First Sight by MayaAodhan

For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

Blinded in the line of duty as a decorated police officer, Castiel Novak now teaches classes at Washington State University as an Associate Professor.

Detective Dean Winchester comes to find Castiel to tell him that a violent criminal he once arrested is now getting out on parole. Instantly attracted to Castiel, Dean finds himself in a difficult position when he must protect the very man he is falling in love with.

(Words: 24k)

Bratishka: Little Brother by Valinde (Valyria)

Dean thinks he knows pretty much everything there is to know about his best friend Castiel Novak - he's a smart, gorgeous DA who probably lets Dean get away with more than he should to see the bad guy locked up - but it turns out Cas is hiding some dark family secrets.

(Words: 33k)

Show Me Your Badge, And I'll Show You My Gun by avidffreader

Dean had become an officer at Lawrence KS Police Department, with kid brother Sam as a lawyer at the federal level. The motto on criminals was simple: Dean takes them out, Sam puts them away.

Not even the addition of a socially awkward blue-eyed evidence technician puts a dent in Dean's system. It all works fine and dandy, until the Morning Star Corporation starts trouble.

(Words: 60k)

* * * *

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE: KIDS

When Life Takes An Unexpected Turn by thatwriterlady

Dean is a single dad to three year old Ava and it's them against the world. Dean hasn't had much success in relationships as people aren't thrilled by the fact that he has a child. When he enrolls Ava in a toddler ballet class at the suggestion of Charlie he finds someone that just might be answers to his prayers.

(Words: 14k)

To Find a Family by linasane

When Dean's little brother gets taken away, he's expecting the fight that ensues. He's expecting the stress that comes from separation, expecting to do all he can to get Sammy back from whatever awful foster family he's been placed with. He's not expecting Castiel Novak.

(Castiel, in turn, isn't expecting his first foster child - five years old and angry - to be the one that leads him to the family he's always wanted, but life has a funny way of working itself out).

(Words: 26k)

In Three Days: A Memoir by Castiel Shurley by glassclosetcastiel

Family and parenting advice writer Castiel Shurley is on the verge of syndication with his weekly column, Fix My Family. The problem? His husband is dead and he can barely handle their three daughters alone.

When the four take a trip to Castiel’s childhood home in Rhode Island to spend a long weekend with the entire Shurley family, Castiel meets an intriguing, incredible man who could change everything. But when Castiel finds out who Dean really is, the family drama just gets worse.

The only way to overcome will be for Castiel to own up to his mistakes and take his own advice- listen to his daughters- and admit that maybe it is possible to fall in love in just three days.

(Words: 33k)

Daddy Needs a Date by caswinchesterbaby

Castiel Novak loves his daughter, Grace, with all his heart. When their dark past threatens to catch up with them, the pair is forced to make an escape from Boston and move to rural Lawrence, Kansas. Grace is enrolled in Mr. Dean Winchester’s second grade class, and things go smoothly. But are there surprises ahead of them? Can Cas keep his small family together? He sure hopes so.

(Words: 85k)

Say Something by JhanaMay

No matter how difficult he can be, Dean loves his son. Raising him alone after his mother died hasn't been easy, but with the support of his family and friends, Dean has made it work. Now that Ben is starting kindergarten, Dean hopes that he can finally relax a little, but the challenges Ben faces at school make Dean realize that their struggles are just beginning. When Ben is assigned a new support teacher, Dean finds that Ben isn't the only Winchester who has a problem dealing with change.

(Words: 250k)

* * * *

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE: COFFEE SHOP/BAKERY

Afternoon Delights by snarkymonkey

Castiel has just moved to Lawrence, Kansas and the nearby café has the strangest sign out front.

(Words: 2k)

Benny Doesn't Partake In Audience Participation by Niitza

In which Benny owns a coffee shop and has a pie addict as well as a weirdo in a trench-coat among his regulars.

(Words: 2k)

Coffee & Donuts by betts

“It’s not competition, Sam. That place sells overpriced coffee and tea, and calls it something fancy to justify the price. And they probably serve shitty, gluten-free, vegan-happy pastries that taste like sod, too. We sell doughnuts. That’s all there is to it.”

But that wasn’t all there was to it.

***

Wherein Dean and Sam Winchester inherit their father's donut shop, some tattooed hipster named Cas opens up a coffee joint across the street, and chaos ensues in the form of too many pastry-related puns.

(Words: 10k)

I Like You (Like Me) by Carmexgirl

Dean’s the owner of his own pretty successful coffee shop, and he’s absolutely, totally not in love with the hot accountant guy who comes in every day. He’s way out of his league. Isn’t he?

(Words: 11k)

Sweet Tooth by DarcyDelaney

Dean had just expected to tag along to Sam and Jess’ cake tasting for their wedding and get free food. That’s it. The last thing that he’d been prepared for was to meet a ridiculously attractive blue-eyed baker with messy hair and rusty people skills who he’d almost immediately start falling for, but sometimes those things just happen.

(Words: 14k)

Pie in the Sky by PrinceMalice

Pie is more than something sweet. Pie is home.

(Words: 14k)

Cooking with Gas by WinJennster

Castiel Novak has it all. He's rich, famous, has a top rated cooking show and restaurant, drives an expensive car and wears Armani.

His producer throws a contest to spend a day with Chef Novak, cooking and learning techniques. Castiel wants no part of it, but Balthazar insists and Castiel will do as expected.

What Castiel wasn't expecting was to fall head over heels for the winner.

Dean Winchester hasn't had a successful relationship in his 34 years on Earth. He's got a past he'd like to keep hidden, and his life rotates around his family and his business.

Winning a contest to spend a day with his favorite TV chef is a shock, but a welcome diversion from his day to day life...until he meets the guy, and he turns out to be a big jerk. Dean figures he should have expected that.

What he wasn't expecting was that same gorgeous blue-eyed man to sweep in and shake up his entire world.

(Words: 89k)

A Little Slice Of Heaven by onamelancholyhill

Jim Morrison once said, “The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are.” That was Castiel Novak’s motto in life, and the reason why he accepted his grandmother's inheritance and took the responsibility it implied.

Dean Winchester, a remarkable accountant at Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc., however, had other priorities. He lived to serve, hidden in a mask that didn’t allow him to be honest with himself, but lonesome and boring.

When destiny made their paths cross, in a less than promising way, with Dean as the instigator and Castiel as his victim, Dean’s mind started wandering, in between pies and cakes, coffees and muffins... What if Mr. Morrison was right?

After all, as the guy used to say, "there can’t be any large-scale revolution, until there’s a personal revolution first."

(Words: 112k)

Kiss the Baker by Ltleflrt

Jo is pregnant and craving something a little bit unusual. When she sends Dean on a mission to find her some chocolate cake donuts with bacon sprinkles, he's sure that he'll fail. Luckily his partner Benny comes to his rescue and introduces him to a quirky little bakery that sells all kinds of weird (and delicious!) baked goods. And they do special orders!

Dean finds excuses to keep going back, and Castiel finds excuses to keep giving him special treats.

(Words: 113k)

#destiel #fic rec #rec list #fanfic #au #alternate universe #high school au #college au #teacher au #doctor au #cop au #kid au #coffee shop au #masterlist #fics underneath the cut

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cybernightwanderer · 4 years

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I went over the “How to Recognize the Signs of Mental and Emotional Abuse” article and heres whats familiar : 46 out of 64 Signs LOL

-Name-calling. They’ll blatantly call you “stupid,” “a loser,” or words too awful to repeat here. There were too many times my mom would come to my room yelling and threatning to beat, or actually beat me up and call me a whore and a piece of shit. Still does, just doesnt call me a whore now, just calls me stupid and a a piece of shit occasionally. -Character assassination. This usually involves the word “always.” You’re always late, wrong, screwing up, disagreeable, and so on. Basically, they say you’re not a good person. Everyday AALL DAY. Things i used or barely did as a child , and keeps trowing at as an adult. -Yelling. Yelling, screaming, and swearing are meant to intimidate and make you feel small and inconsequential. It might be accompanied by fist-pounding or throwing things. No need to even explain this. -Patronizing. “Aw, sweetie, I know you try, but this is just beyond your understanding.” “Ah nooo, youll never be responsible to have your own life” -Public embarrassment. They pick fights, expose your secrets, or make fun of your shortcomings in public. Yup...

-Dismissiveness. You tell them about something that’s important to you and they say it’s nothing. Body language like eye-rolling, smirking, headshaking, and sighing help convey the same message. Trying to explain to her i dont like something or i dont wanna do something and why, trying to explain certain things she does harms me. And i just get mocked and threatned instead. - Insults of your appearance. They tell you, just before you go out, that your hair is ugly or your outfit is clownish. Every single day. Also to a point that she did this many times in front of strangers, or in front of my friends.

-Belittling your accomplishments. Your abuser might tell you that your achievements mean nothing, or they may even claim responsibility for your success. Yup -Put-downs of your interests. They might tell you that your hobby is a childish waste of time or you’re out of your league when you play sports. Really, it’s that they’d rather you not participate in activities without them. I stopped practising my drawing skills because she would always say i had no future in drawing characters and shitty stuff. Even tho i was starting and practising. That i had no future in it. -Pushing your buttons. Once your abuser knows about something that annoys you, they’ll bring it up or do it every chance they get. Daily picking fights with me, the yells at me for fighting with her and misstreats me. -Threats. Telling you they’ll take the kids and disappear, or saying “There’s no telling what I might do.” Threatning to kick me off the house whenever i refuse to do something she tells me to. For example, a few years ago, i was barely holding on with a minimal wage , she would take a cut out of it, so there was this month i did a whole month without days off to try and gather money to go to barcelona. She knew i had money saved up and threatened to kick me off the house if i didnt give her extra 100 euros for house rent. Usually stuff like this always. -Monitoring your whereabouts. They want to know where you are all the time and insist that you respond to calls or texts immediately. They might show up just to see if you’re where you’re supposed to be. If i go out with my friends or stay in my friends houses, if i go to a concert or anything, she will non stop be calling me and texting until i reply. Even if i already told her who i would be with and where ( i have to tell her always ) And always have to tell what i am doing. If i dont she will be mad for weeks and take it out on me. -Digital spying. They might check your internet history, emails, texts, and call log. They might even demand your passwords. Like the previous one, she asks my aunt to sent her my ig stuff and fb stuff i post, so i had to remove my entire family from my social network. Because she would always come up to me daily “ ah u posted this why? “ wether it would be a selfie or a poem. And is always messaging me on whatsapp and humiliating me and crontrolling wich picture i post on whatsapp. I generaly like to post my user photo of whatsapp as something funny, wether its my face with a filter, or a funny meme. Two months ago i posted a guy with his ass pinned up, wich was hilarious. She kept yelling at me everymorning, and even threatned to hit me , to take the picture down , because it looked bad. The picture was something like this ( not this, but the pose kinda )

- Unilateral decision-making. They might close a joint bank account, cancel your doctor’s appointment, or speak with your boss without asking. ALWAYS does these kinds of things without my consent. I work 12h a day everyday, im always tired, and i barely have money , and she “trying to take care of me “ will settle apointments for really expensive doctors witouth asking me if i even want, and will get mad at me when i tell her to cancel , saying im a big girl that i have to do it, SO i have to take out sometype of time during my busy work day to make a call to cancel something she settled without even asking me , and will be mad for weeks and take it out on me calling me names and shit. And if i dont accept her “ lending me the money for the apointment “ she will get mad and call me ungratfull and stupid. -Financial control. They might keep bank accounts in their name only and make you ask for money. You might be expected to account for every penny you spend. Well yeah.. dont even need to say anything here. - Lecturing. Belaboring your errors with long monologues makes it clear they think you’re beneath them. Or here... -Direct orders. From “Get my dinner on the table now” to “Stop taking the pill,” orders are expected to be followed despite your plans to the contrary. This daily basis. -Outbursts. You were told to cancel that outing with your friend or put the car in the garage, but didn’t, so now you have to put up with a red-faced tirade about how uncooperative you are. Always calling me lazy and shit for not doing HER OWN STUFF. -Treating you like a child. They tell you what to wear, what and how much to eat, or which friends you can see. I am 30 years old. -Feigned helplessness. They may say they don’t know how to do something. Sometimes it’s easier to do it yourself than to explain it. They know this and take advantage of it. Whatever happends she always plays the pity party card “ ahh im old” , “ ahhh i had an aneurism ( even tho she has been fine for two/three years now LOL )”, “ ahh my blood pressure “ She used that as an excuse to always ditch arguments or important discussions when she is loosing, and if i dont shut up she will threaten to kick me off the house or beat me. For example the other day she was shamming me out of nowhere from trying to commit suicide, and i told her she was one of the main reasons. She immediatly started to call me names, tried to hit me, and trow me out of the car. -Unpredictability. They’ll explode with rage out of nowhere, suddenly shower you with affection, or become dark and moody at the drop of a hat to keep you walking on eggshells. She flips randomly during the day, im afraid to leave my room. Or that she will enter my room. -They walk out. In a social situation, stomping out of the room leaves you holding the bag. At home, it’s a tool to keep the problem unresolved. She humiliates me in public then randomly walks out. -Using others. Abusers may tell you that “everybody” thinks you’re crazy or “they all say” you’re wrong. She likes to tell her friends and our family how “ irresponsable”, “immature” and no good for nothing i am, and how i am LEECHING her off... LOL -Jealousy. They accuse you of flirting or cheating on them. Usualy when i game or sometimes, ppl call me and talk to me, and she will eavesdropp my conversation and enter my room to hear better, or later wait until i leave the room , to complain about how i treat my friends so well , and speak so well to them , and how it is possible that i talk to her bad all the time and treat her like shit (? LOL ) Well for starters my friends dont misstreat me or call me names, or try to humiliate me or control me LOL or even pick fights with me. She will get mad at me for not wanting to spend time with her, and spending time with my friends. That im ungratefull and a bad daughter. LOL -Turning the tables. They say you cause their rage and control issues by being such a pain. This, that its my fault. That its my fault everything. - Denying something you know is true. An abuser will deny that an argument or even an agreement took place. This is called gaslighting. It’s meant to make you question your own memory and sanity. For example the other day , olso on the car, with the suicide attempt talk, i was trying to explain why and i told her my most painfull memory of her, was her beating me up for not knowing how to solve a math problem in 3rd grade. That she punched me several times because she tought i had awnsered 7 instead of 1. And she started yelling at me saying i made that up and shit. Like bitch i was afraid of doing my homework home because you would beat the crap out of me, instead of teatching me LOL. She once again used the “ blood pressure “ excuse and tried to hit me and kick me off the car in mid highway. -Using guilt. They might say something like, “You owe me this. Look at all I’ve done for you,” in an attempt to get their way. Ahh this is a classic. She says i owe her everything she asks for because SHE BIRTHED ME AND RAISED ME. And she used this argument to manipulate me in everything. -Goading then blaming. Abusers know just how to upset you. But once the trouble starts, it’s your fault for creating it. Yup -Denying their abuse. When you complain about their attacks, abusers will deny it, seemingly bewildered at the very thought of it. According to her, she just does everything she does because she cares LOL. -Accusing you of abuse. They say you’re the one who has anger and control issues and they’re the helpless victim. LOLOLOL cannot say this enought, SHE ACCUSES ME of being the abusive one , simply because i talk back, because i dont wanna be around her and because i fight with her LOL. Even tho she starts the fights and im just defending myself from her. -Trivializing. When you want to talk about your hurt feelings, they accuse you of overreacting and making mountains out of molehills. Yup -Saying you have no sense of humor. Abusers make personal jokes about you. If you object, they’ll tell you to lighten up. Yup -Blaming you for their problems. Whatever’s wrong in their life is all your fault. You’re not supportive enough, didn’t do enough, or stuck your nose where it didn’t belong. ALSO YUP -Destroying and denying. They might crack your cell phone screen or “lose” your car keys, then deny it. Tried to break my things numerous of times, or trash them or give them away. Wich she did. -Demanding respect. No perceived slight will go unpunished, and you’re expected to defer to them. But it’s a one-way street. Yup... She will happly tell me how to dress saying what im wearing is ugly, i will politely tell her to stop, she will continue to give her “opinion” i will get tired and yell to stop , she will immediatly demand respect and tell me i have no right to talk back at her and that im disrespectfull and stupid. -Shutting down communication. They’ll ignore your attempts at conversation in person, by text, or by phone. Yup -Dehumanizing you. They’ll look away when you’re talking or stare at something else when they speak to you. Yup -Keeping you from socializing. Whenever you have plans to go out, they come up with a distraction or beg you not to go. Also Yup She wouldnt let me go out if i didnt do my bed, and would make up shit just so i wouldnt go out, until i got tired and gave up. -Trying to come between you and your family. They’ll tell family members that you don’t want to see them or make excuses why you can’t attend family functions. Well she constantly came in between my first real good therapist. I was finally seeing a good therapist a few years ago. I was finally relieved and tought i could trust him, all of a suddent she demanded to be in the therapy sessions. So in the sessions instead of talking about what upset me and her constant mental abuse, the therapist gave in to her demands, and started adressing HER issues with me. I remenber the LAST time i decided to attend the doctor. He would first attend my mom , then me. So i came up, and he started his usual talks, and i wanted to talk to him that day about the nightmares i was having and if he could help me. And all of a suddent he cut the conversation off by saying “ ah wait so your mother tells be you have been staying a lot of time on your computer “ “ that you dont socialize with your friends and that you dont go out “ I mean i wonder why i get stuck in my pc and dont go out with my friends LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL She would always cut me off from meeting my friends, she would always control me, so i had less interest or courage to make friends year by year. And gaming was the only thing that brought me joy in my shitty depressed life coz i couldnt develop any interests. -Withholding affection. They won’t touch you, not even to hold your hand or pat you on the shoulder. They may refuse sexual relations to punish you or to get you to do something. She wil straight up give me the cold shoulder, ignore me if she is mad because i didnt do something how she wanted. When i had hand surgery, she refused to go with me, or get me. By me it was ok , she didnt need to go or anything. So after surgery i told the doctors i would take myself home, and why. And they didnt allowe me and still called my mom even thought i told them she wouldnt. She treated me so badly after picking me up from the hospital because they called her. -Tuning you out. They’ll wave you off, change the subject, or just plain ignore you when you want to talk about your relationship. Yup -Actively working to turn others against you. They’ll tell co-workers, friends, and even your family that you’re unstable and prone to hysterics. YUP -Calling you needy. When you’re really down and out and reach out for support, they’ll tell you you’re too needy or the world can’t stop turning for your little problems. YUP -Interrupting. You’re on the phone or texting and they get in your face to let you know your attention should be on them. Yup -Indifference. They see you hurt or crying and do nothing. Yup - Disputing your feelings. Whatever you feel, they’ll say you’re wrong to feel that way or that’s not really what you feel at all. Yup

#domestic violence #domestic abuse #suicide #depression #anxiety #toxic #toxic mother #toxic behaviour #toxic family #self #toughts #end my life #misery #pain #trauma #end my fucking life #end my existence #end my pain #end my misery

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dontcallmecarrie · 7 years

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Fic Idea: The Fix-it Version [I Probably Won't Be Writing Because I Can't Do Romance To Save My Life]

Warnings: mental health issues, dubious morality, probably OOC in some places, extreme/severe Wanda bashing [which culminates in character death; if that’s not your cup of tea, sorry, maybe next time?], a JARVIS that’s uncomfortably close to Skynet, and a mindtrip of epic proportions [that can probably be classified as cruel and unusual torture, Inception-style]. Semi-canon compliant, through a certain point of view, though with shameless timeline fudging.

...On the plus side, there’s also Science Bros [kinda], and Team As Family feels?

[The attempt at romance in here could fit with probably any pairing, I just picked this one because I used to ship it a lot harder in the past.]

Also, heads up for a very, very long post. [Sorry about that.]

Edited only to put in a cut, because I’m not kidding as to how long this is.

Tony Stark was a genius.

It was a fact of which there was no doubt, he had the test results from age three to prove it, even his greatest critics were forced acknowledge his intellect. Not to mention his impressive track record involving new patents and elements, or that one of the media's names for him was "the Da Vinci of our day"-- he was a genius, full stop.

That the world somehow forgot was another matter.

Sure, he was surrounded by superpowered people—gods and spies and doctors with breathtaking anger issues— but it still got old, the way everyone seemed to forget his multiple doctorates with each explosion. His laundry list of awards, hell, the new element he’d created, seemed to get overshadowed by the people he ran with. [To be fair, it'd be kind of hard to see past the Crown Prince of Asgard, but still.]

Point is, his brain's wired differently. It may sound arrogant, but it was true. Tony Stark had a gift that let him interact with the world on a level far beyond most mortals' ken, was able to take and assimilate data and work miracles.

Reason this all comes up is because a) that meant mental health issues were a special sort of hell, and, b) Wanda really didn't know what the fuck she was doing when she tried to screw with his mind.

What I’m getting to is this:

Tony never really snapped out of the initial mind-whammy Wanda hit him with, back in Sokovia.

It wasn't something she'd expected; she'd practiced with plenty of people, and yet the one guy she'd sworn revenge against for years gave a single panicked gasp, before slumping over and promptly going comatose.

Here's the thing: Wanda hadn't accounted for how his mind would accept the data presented. Like all other things, Tony's gift for rapidly processing and assimilating other input took this newest development, and proceeded to take it and run with it.

Tony's trapped in his head, stuck with only his inner demons and Wanda's malice. He doesn't notice; between his PTSD, and the way his greatest strengths are now being used against him, Tony only knows he's being confronted with his worst nightmares being turned reality, and the worst part is? It's a prison of his own making.

Every single subconscious fear is being dragged to the forefront, from betrayal to his own inadequacy at protecting those he loves. He's being torn down again and again by strangers wearing familiar faces, and Tony knows something's off but he can't quite pinpoint what and… and it's getting to the point where part of him's so bone-tired he sometimes can't help but wonder: would death would really be that much harder? Because as time goes by, he's getting so, so worn and he's so alone, that he's nearing his breaking point. [Just like Wanda had wanted him, in that moment when she'd thoughtlessly toyed with the very fragile and very powerful thing that was Tony's mind.]

There's just one problem: Wanda did her job too well.

See, JARVIS was the first to notice something was so, fundamentally wrong: Sir's readings had flickered erratically, but then after the female Enhanced had taken her leave, he had remained unresponsive to his increasingly desperate attempts to get his attention. Even as he notified the Avengers to this newest development, however, he set to scouring the world for the Dead Person Walking who'd dared to harm Sir. [He'd eviscerate them, would make them bleed and burn the world with a smile if it meant Sir's safety, Sir, please, wake up—]

The Avengers aren't ones to take this lying down, either.

Clint's especially vicious, at first; he's the first one to reach Tony, sees the fading traces of red in his eyes, remembers when his world had become awash with blue, and his hands don’t shake when he takes a shot at the fleeing duo [even though he so, desperately wants to]. The cry of pain he hears is vaguely cathartic, but vanishes the moment he hears Tony's first whimper and something is Not Right, this is beyond his pay grade, he needs backup stat!

Natasha's expression is blank, and that was everyone's first tip as to how furious she was. She hasn't let go of her phone, between keeping her friends updated [Pepper had cried when she'd heard Tony wouldn't wake], and scouring her contacts list for anyone who might have a shred of a clue as to how to help. She refused to give up on her friends, and Tony'd shared his coffee with her more than once at three in the morning, and they'd commiserated about tough choices and bloody pasts and second chances one too many times for her to consider him anything but.

Bruce is taking readings. He hasn't stopped, because the alternative is looking at the too-still and far-too-silent figure on the bed rather than the data, and if he does that… they'd have to deal with the Other Guy, who has some Strong Opinions as to his favorite person's current state— no, make that their favorite person: Bruce is very reserved, can't afford to be anything else, but somehow, despite everything, Tony'd managed to wriggle past his defenses with his constant chatter and Star Trek references and snacks and if he thought about it too much he'd have another Code Green, nope, focus on those brainwave patterns and see what he could do—

Thor had rushed to Asgard with the Scepter in tow, intent on returning with assistance, because Midgard was still so young in so many ways but he knew what branch of magic Lord Anthony had been a victim of, had heard Loki mention it offhandedly once or twice in their youth when showing off the power of enchantments, and there had to be a healer or magician willing to help—

Steve, meanwhile, has been taking it the worst: he'd been bantering with the team not five minutes before, and now he's seeing Clint, sharp and brittle in a way that was dangerously similar to the New York fiasco, and snarling about magic and oh god that was Tony.

Steve's heart had stuttered when he saw his body, and Natasha's bumping shoulders with Clint in an effort to help calm him down and Bruce looks like he's about as controlled as ever, but Steve's just. Drowning.

Because he's lost another friend, now; he'd just started to heal from Bucky's death, when the HYDRA reveal happened, and Tony'd been there for him afterwards, had been a good friend and helped him and Sam in their search. Tony'd been one of the last reminders of his past, had been a walking memorial of the generosity of an old friend [for all that Tony had hated to talk about his father, he was the spitting image of the man Steve had known, in some ways], and now? He's just…lost.

Steve had been talking to Natasha and JARVIS as to how to break it to Tony gently about his growing suspicions about HYDRA's involvement in Howard's death.

[maybe it wasn't the Winter Soldier who did it, in this reality; maybe it was someone at the party who'd kept smiling and upping the alcohol content in Howard's drinks, and had sabotaged the brake fluid in his car instead. Thing is, Tony's head is a scary place, and with his growing paranoia and Wanda's influence, he can't help but jump to the worst-case scenario]

And ditto as to his possible crush that Natasha may or may not have been teasing him about for months. The crush that had merited multiple pitying looks from the team, because apparently he'd been very unsubtle in his attempts at hiding it, even if Tony had never noticed because the man was surprisingly obtuse in anything that vaguely smacked of emotions. Yeah, that crush. The one he'd put on the backburner, and was now bitterly regretting it.

So, yes, Steve wasn't doing well.

Time passes, and Thor comes and goes in his forays to seek out help. In doing so, however, the Avengers are only freaking out more and more, because with every hour that passes, Tony's condition only gets worse. His body's visibly getting more stressed, Bruce's tests have him hitting the tea more than ever before in an attempt to get a grip, and Steve hates seeing Tony like this but can't bear to leave [or let go of his hand].

JARVIS was especially distressed when, a few hours into his not-coma, Sir started to cry and call for him, and he'd never felt more helpless than when his sobs tapered off and mutters of a 'Vision' started. In his frustration, he dedicates more firepower towards finding the Dead Person Walking, and redoubles his search for anyone capable of doing anything.

It takes JARVIS less than three days, for him to find Wanda. It takes even less time, to capture her. Natasha is more than happy to aid him in interrogating her, and if the realization that she didn't know what she had done resulted in yet another corpse in a now-abandoned HYDRA bunker? Well...the instigator's death had no effect on Sir's condition meant it was no loss, at any rate. [That she'd shown absolutely no regret about having hurt Sir on such a fundamental level was only part of why JARVIS hadn't been particularly concerned about it all.]

More time passes, and the Avengers are growing increasingly desperate. Bruce had been forced to abscond to the Hulk-proof room after his latest set of readings, because Tony'd been showing all the warning signs for an impending heart attack despite their best efforts to help, and Steve's now going for a new streak in 'number of punching bags broken in an hour'.

Clint and Natasha are only marginally better off; having the knowledge that the witch was dead did something for Clint's peace of mind, but seeing Tony suffer was still grating on his nerves, and their spars grow increasingly vicious as time goes on. [If Steve wasn't even worse off, he'd have been staring in shock; as it was, he could only offer a tired smile when he saw them from his spot in the gym.]

Then, Thor returns with a name: Kamar-Taj.

Apparently, the Earth had magic as well, though it'd been hidden remarkably well. JARVIS takes this newest development, and runs with it as far as possible. The Quinjet was in India within the hour, with Bruce and Natasha calmly making their way to where JARVIS had identified a possible location. Clint's busily guarding Tony and keeping an eye on Steve, who'd wanted to go but was self-aware enough to know he wasn't the best guy for the job at the moment, and Thor was too conspicuous for it too.

Bruce knew enough Hindi to get by without too many weird looks, and the look in Natasha's eyes is enough to keep any potential muggers at bay. They find it quickly, and the wary questions they're asked means they're ushered to a darkened room in short order. Another terse few minutes of conversation finally have the Ancient One, alongside her right-hand man, walking back with the duo. [Bruce has to quell his knee-jerk reaction to run when he feels how everyone's attention when he mentions Thor's mention of 'mind magics' and something about stones? Man, he hated magic.]

A quick portal [that had the Avengers shifting and tensing uneasily when it'd opened, because hello security concerns] trip later, and Steve is a hairsbreadth away from snapping when the Ancient One surges backwards from where she'd run a few cursory hands near Tony's head.

"Who did this?" She asked, devastated fury evident in her tone and the way her companion moved to protect her. "This is an unspeakable act, punishable by death."

"They're dead." Clint replied, cold smile on his face and rolling an arrow [one of Tony's designs, one he'd been fiddling with before Sokovia] between his fingers.

"Good," the Ancient One bites out, "this is a travesty. It's mentioned in our archives, but only strong magicians with years of training even dare approach this, and only ever for healing purposes."

"Is there anything you can do?" Thor asked, "Few mages in Asgard specialize in this branch, and among that number the ones I knew who were capable of it are dead."

She looks at them, at the desperate look in their eyes, at the weariness in Bruce's face and the tension in Steve's frame and utter blankness in Natasha's expression, and smiles.

"Yes. It requires a lot of delicacy and preparation, especially for something that's lasted as long as this, but yes. Your friend is strong; it's been centuries since a human's been recorded with being under this, and they all died within three days."

Steve dented his chair when he sat back down, while Natasha merely tilted her head and replied, "It's been a week."

That added to the urgency, apparently: the Ancient One shared a look of horrified awe with Mordo, and set to work making their various preparations. Within the hour, they were ready, and when she asked if they would permit some of Kamar-Taj's students to observe the enchantment necessary for it, the team had a hurried, hushed debate.

"Please use your discretion. Only those who would not impede the process, I suppose." Natasha finally said, electing to be the Avenger's spokesperson [now that Tony was out of commission nope don't think about it—].

Steve didn't leave Tony's side until a few minutes before the ritual started; and then, he couldn't look away from the growing circle and only blinked when the light got too close to blinding even for him, and when he heard a quietly heartbroken "so was I" and a scream Thor had to help hold him down to keep from interfering.

Clint, meanwhile, shifted the entire time, antsy about magic and couldn't help but envy Bruce for stepping outside [the Other Guy was even less of a fan of magic than he was, and that took effort], and trying not to stare too openly at one of the students who'd elected to watch the ceremony. It was kind of hard, actually; he'd introduced himself as Dr. Stephen Strange, but in the minutes that it'd taken for Mordo to finish setting up the room, Clint couldn't help but notice the way the man hadn't stopped with the questions [much like Tony had with Thor nope nope he'd wake up dammit—] and it was uncanny, especially with the Van Dyke the man was sporting.

The ceremony's completed, and Tony's heart stopped partway through.

Fortunately, apparently Strange had actually been a medical doctor in the past, and between him, Bruce, and the Iron Man suit JARVIS had commandeered to help in this endeavor, restarting it was less stressful than the past few hours had been.

"He should wake soon," the Ancient One told them, "make sure he takes it easy while he recovers, it's not often that people survive a death-curse."

The Avengers in general thanked her profusely, and JARVIS did the same. Then, at long last, they went home.

Tony wakes up to JARVIS' voice updating him about New York's weather forecast and stock prices and his relief of his latest change in status, with the familiar beeping of a heart monitor in the background. [Well, now familiar, at least, between Rhodey and Happy and nope—]

"Hey, Vision, where you at?"

"Sir, who is this 'Vision' you speak of? It is currently May—"

Tony sat up abruptly, heart starting to hammer again as he took in his surroundings. "Vision, where am I? This isn't funny."

"Sir, I am JARVIS. Do you require medical assistance?"

Tony froze from where he'd been running a hand through his hair. "JARVIS?" He breathed, and then looked around again carefully, "Oh, god. I lost it, didn't I?"

JARVIS was alarmed when Sir started laughing, and then his breath hitched and he started crying.

As such, it was perfectly understandable that he urged the Avengers to hurry; Mr. Barton and Ms. Romanov had been sparring in the gym while Capt. Rogers had been coming back from lunch, and Thor was currently in the middle of yet another Q&A session with the Ancient One concerning possible extraplanetary threats and magic.

Tony was barely getting his bearings back, and wondering what the hell was going on, when the door burst open, and what the fuck?!

He couldn't quite hide a flinch when Steve surged towards him, relief evident on his face, and…what.

Why was he being hugged? Was this another attempt to kill him, wasn't Siberia enough? What the— why was Natasha smiling? No, strike that; why was Clint smiling? Bruce was here?! And why was he hearing JARVIS' voice from the walls and not from Vision, again?

"Oh, god. I've really lost it this time, haven't I?"

The story comes out, of course.

Tony doesn’t know why Steve refuses to let him go if at all possible, but the part of him that hopes this isn't just some nervous breakdown isn't shy about enjoying the hugs [even if they got almost too tight in some parts, like when his voice broke when talking about Ultron, or the Civil War and it was all his fault—] and the way the team didn't seem to hate him [for once].

Actually…Tony isn't sure if he's really lost it, but he's also not sure if he wants to find out. Because here, JARVIS lives, and Rhodey can walk, and people actually listen to him about his worries and actually seem to care—

Clint and Natasha share a Look, the more Tony goes on. [Clearly, they'd been too merciful, when dealing with Wanda.]

Bruce greeted Tony with a smile, and then gave him some personal space: he knew him well enough to know it'd be appreciated, and what with the way the rest of the team was acting, Tony'd be lucky if he so much as went to the bathroom without an armed escort for the rest of the year.

Thor, when he arrives, tries to wrap Tony up in a hug—which makes for a dicey situation, because Steve refuses to let him go and Natasha and Clint are also a lot more likely to try to cuddle right now after the scare they all had. There may or may not be a small battle royale going on in the living room for the best spot on the couch, whenever Tony so much as gets up for a glass of water.

[aka Tony gets all the hugs]

Steve, meanwhile, is just as bad as JARVIS regarding his willingness to let Tony out of his eyesight. That is to say, he's very unwilling to do so. As in, barely willing to let him out of arms' distance, and that'd been before he'd heard about Tony's ordeal. [He hadn’t noticed Tony's flinch at first, but it's not until he heard about the 'Civil War', and Siberia that it hits home, just why he'd reacted that way, and it hurts.]

JARVIS has been in Sentry Mode since Sokovia. He has yet to let Sir out of his sensors' range, and the odds of that ever happening lower with each day that passes. Not that Sir's complaining; more than once, he'd simply called, "JARVIS?" just to hear a response, and seemed to take comfort in his updates about the situation.

Colonel James 'Rhodey' Rhodes had been in the middle of a mission, when JARVIS informed him of Tony's coma. If it hadn't been so sensitive, he would've up and vanished, but as it was he was the only thing between a warlord and a poor province until backup arrived, and though he burned to leave ASAP, he couldn't. [Tony'd never forgive him.]

The moment the op was over, though, and the people were safe, James pushed his suit to the limit to get to Tony's side, where his best friend was awake and coherent and rushing in for a tight hug just like he'd been after Afghanistan. He knows exactly why Rogers refuses to let go of Tony [even if it's for starkly different reasons; the man was not subtle at all, and if he hadn't known Tony for years, James'd wonder if he was being purposefully obtuse, because this was getting ridiculous].

He stays for as long as he can manage, and the way Tony just collapsed into his side each time means he's sharing increasingly concerned looks with the Avengers, because he's known Tony to be rather stoic about some things [ha—understatement of the year], and yet the friend he's known for decades teared up the moment he strode into the room, and what the hell happened to him?!

But no matter; he'll be there for Tony. Just like always.

Pepper's much the same way, having been dealing with investors in Japan, and able only to arrive after all had been said and done [though she'd noticed the haunted look in Tony's eyes, and made a note to talk with James and JARVIS about what actions needed to be taken to remedy this]. She wraps him up in a hug when she first sees him, and the way he'd only slowly relaxed was enough of a warning in and of itself, to her.

She's got a business meeting coming up, but in the meantime she and Tony curl up and watch old French movies with the lights off, and sharing blankets and granola without a care for crumbs. [She smiles when he finally loses that last edge of tension, when he slumps bonelessly against her and the couch, and doesn’t make a comment about the blinking earpiece he’s got, the one JARVIS likes to use whenever Tony’s out and about and needing a discreet way to stay connected. Tony was strong, he’d pull through. And she’d help him, whenever he asked it of her, as per usual.]

Time passes, and Tony heals.

He stops flinching at everyone’s sudden movements, stops startling whenever he hears JARVIS, gradually starts opening up again and lowering his guard, inch by inch. Slowly starts to up his chatter again, and the team’s never been more relieved than when the familiar strains of AC/DC start to filter through again, after months of silence [because Tony only ever played music when he was comfortable, when he felt safe and happy and secure with his place in the world].

Time passes, and everyone gradually moves on, though JARVIS' Sentry Mode is still a constant shadow to Tony and the Avengers' paranoia regarding magic never really goes away, not until months after Stephen Strange becomes a consultant and they see him and Tony bantering about facial hair and Arthur C. Clarke and doctorates.

Time passes, and when Thanos arrives, it's to an Earth with a set of guardians all as fiercely protective of each other as a pack of wolves, a tight-knit and cohesive unit devastating both on the battlefield and off of it.

[Suffice it is to say, Thanos doesn’t walk away from that particular encounter.]

There’s more going on in the background, of course. Exhibit A being the romance subplot [that could apply to just about any pairing in this scenario], and I’ve really skimmed just how long it takes for Tony to heal from experiencing canon events.

Steven Strange’s part got shifted up in the timeline, and the Ancient One doesn’t die; instead, he ends up being a consultant for the Avengers, but his focus is on keeping the New York Sanctum safe. [Mordo, Wong, and James Rhodes just share a Look, the moment they first see Tony Stark and Stephen Strange in the same room. It may or may not have been one of horrified awe, of ‘oh god there’s two of them’, minutes before the first explosion started.]

...FYI, this JARVIS is basically TWiFFON’s JARVIS, and just my approach to him in general. That is to say, his focus on Tony’s safety and happiness is one of [if not the] biggest motivation for his actions, and a morality a lot more nebulous than most would probably be comfortable with, given he’s basically Skynet as is.

#fic idea #fic ideas #orignal outline #The Romance Fic I Probably Won't Be Writing #canon went screwy years back here's my attempt to fix it #long post #sorry about that

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devilsknotrp · 5 years

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Congratulations, Rose! You have been accepted for the role of Brooke Youngblood (FC: Devery Jacobs). Brooke is such a weirdly wonderful character and you did her such justice. She’s sassy and looking for the world to just wake up and I think you captured that beautifully. Her angst and black eyeliner will be a welcome addition to the town! Please have a look at this page prior to sending in your account.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name: Rose Age: 23 Pronouns: she/her Timezone: so I accidentally got it wrong in the other app haha, it’s currently GMT +1, soon just GMT because I’ll be moving to the UK Activity estimation: Right now I have all the time in the world but in September I will start my masters so it will probably be a little less but I’m sure I’ll have time to work around it. Overall my activity would probably be around 7 or 8. Triggers: REDACTED

IN CHARACTER

Full name: Brooke Enola Youngblood Age (DD/MM/YYY): eighteen (14-11-1978) Gender: Cisgender female Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: heterosexual Occupation: high school student and cashier at Piggly Wiggly Connection to Victim: Brooke has a few classes with the older two Goode siblings but doesn’t know much about Brian or their mother. She’s probably seen them in passing while she was working at Piggly Wiggly but nothing more than that. However, she feels for the family, she, unlike them, was born and raised in the darkness that can sometimes be Devil’s Knot. It’s unfortunate that a family from elsewhere be dragged the shadows created by the events of 1984 that lurks in their town. Alibi: The Saturday that Brian went missing, Brooke had been working the entire day at Piggly Wiggly. As usual, there was an assortment of customers who came and left. Children buying sweets, mothers doing a grocery run, guys buying some beers, girls buying new glossy magazines. It was business as usual. Around 5 the shop closes and so Brooke leaves the old decrepit place that always seems to be on the verge of financial problems for the next day. Her evenings were always spent out doing whatever she felt like. Sometimes it was to watch a film, sometimes to get high and other times just drive around until it was pitch black outside. Brooke explained that she’d been out for dinner, eating a meal in peace and quiet and drove around till she arrived at Videoport, flicking through DVD’s she wants to watch. Around midnight, she arrived in her old Chevy Impala, turned matte black due to the dust and dirt over the years, back home where she found her mother passed out on the sofa with the tv on. She moved her mother upstairs and cleared away the wine glass and wine bottle, the only two witnesses to this affair ever happening. After that, she went to bed. Faceclaim: Devery Jacobs

WRITING SAMPLE

Biting a fingernail on her left hand, Brooke Youngblood surveyed the scene in front of her. Her almond-shaped eyes glazed over to the one side of the table where John was sat. Well, actually her father but she saw him so rarely that she normally just referred to him by his first name, something neither of her parents seemed to like much. His dark hair was still quite full for his age and his smile was as dazzling as ever. It wasn’t hard to see why her mother had fallen for him. Now he wore a crisp business suit with a white shirt and striped tie. He fit right into the image that had been created by both of them when they had gotten married at 21. So young to be making choices that would affect you for the rest of your life. You can never know if it’s going to be influenced in a good way or a bad way. Only time can tell and it can sometimes be a bitch of a master.

Brooke swung her gaze to the other side of the table where her mother was sat. Rozene was an image that one doesn’t forget and deliberately so, her mother had worked at it. Her dark hair fell effortless down in waves as she wore a linen dress, casual yet chic. Her mother’s make-up was flawlessly applied, no signs yet of the mascara that could possibly end up running down her cheeks or any lipstick smudge on her chin from reapplying lipstick in a giddy fashion. Their whole house seemed like something that one pulled straight of a poster for the American dream. Well, it was more like the all-American nightmare for her. She let out a sigh as she passed around the casserole that her mother had spent the entire day making to her dad. It tasted good but there was nothing, nothing, that could decrease the tension in their household. Taking a sip from her glass of water, she could tell that it would only be a matter of minutes before her parents would start talking to each other. Now they were sat in deathly silence, only the sound of cutlery on plates and eating could be heard.

Eating the last mouth full of her plate, she set down her knife and fork and her napkin just as she’d been taught all those years ago. She thought back to when she’d been taught proper etiquette. For months she had to ask her parents “please may I leave the table?” whenever she even wanted to go for a piss. From all the fine things her mother tried to teach her, that was the only thing that had stuck. She quietly uttered the sentence as she stood up and picked up her plate, setting it in the sink. As soon as she was out of sight, their voices started to push through the walls. Her father’s deep, baritone muttering something to her mother as she heard her mother throw down her fork and heatedly reply back. “For fuck’s sake Rose, you know this isn’t normal. This town has always had its demons…. Now, this….”

Her mother replied back, but the words were cut out as she turned on the tap and rinsed her plate clean.

“Also, what the fuck kind of food do you call this?”

“I spent HOURS cooking that, you piece of shit. I don’t see you offering yourself up to cook a meal for us.” Their voices were rising over the noise of the tap, that’s when Brooke knew she had to get out. The plate clattered in the sink as she pushed her arms into her coat, grabbed her keys and left.

Her trusty Chevy Impala had brought her to one of the few places she could think of that was clear of any people. Piggly Wiggly. It was stupid to come to work after hours but right now there was no chance of anyone being there and that’s all Brooke needed right now. Sitting on the hood of the car, she slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out her pack of Marlboro and a lighter. As she inhaled the soft grey smoke of the cigarette curled up and into the night air, the embers of the tip burning a fiery orange. Her eyes cast upwards as she exhaled the smoke. If it only was as easy to disappear from this town as the smoke disappeared in the night. The cold nipped at her cheeks which she stubbornly refused to acknowledge as she lifted to the hood of her coat onto her head, keeping herself as warm as she could. The size of the cigarette seemed to be dwindling fast as Brooke started to feel this dark feeling boil inside of her. Anger started to build as she thought about her parents. Why couldn’t they just have one normal meal? Just one. Is that too much to fucking ask for?

Dropping the cigarette to the floor, she stomped on it with a force that wasn’t necessary to put out something so small. No, it was measured against the fire that was burning through her veins.

Brooke’s hands started to itch, a desire to hit something rising, like a coiling serpent ready to strike, trying to find a way to let out all her anger. She popped the boot of her car and pulled out a green canvas bag, slamming it closed again. Her footsteps were full of purpose as she strode up to the sidewall of her workplace. Her hand reached in and grabbed a can as she let the bag go. The can felt cold, the sharp biting making everything seem more real, as she lifted it above and pressed hard. The colour was neon green and spread like a wildfire as she started to draw.

A smile slipped onto her lips as her anger faded and instead the feeling of thrill ran through her body. It lasted about a minute. She saw before she heard. Her eyes caught the sight of red and blue light as she swore loudly. Bright lights shone in her face as she tried to shield her eyes, automatically watering due to the brightness.

“Oi! Hey you!” Brooke dropped the can into the bag and slung it over her shoulder as she tried to get away.

“Hey! You! Stop right now! An officer of the law is speaking to you!”

She turned and ran right into a body. “Well, if it isn’t Brooke Youngblood. You’re coming with us. Vandalising property.”

An officer picked her up by her armpit as she tried to wiggle free. The other officer came up behind her, huffing and puffing despite the short distance. He observed her bag and the scowl that she wore. “Don’t you think we aren’t busy enough as it is? All us looking for that Goode kid?”

The officer shook his head as he signalled her to come along to the patrol car, a hard push sending her that way. Brooke decided not to say anything as she sat down in the back of the car, the leather seats feeling slight warm despite the cool October air. Yeah, that’s right. Finally, this town is being woken up. All of these idiots get to see what’s actually going on behind all these smiles and closed doors.

A smile slid onto her face as they drove off, only one thought on Brooke’s mind. Wakey wakey, motherfuckers. You’re all in for one hell of a ride…

ANYTHING ELSE?

→ The Youngblood household is less a home and more like IKEA showroom, all gloss that when disassembled is just cheaply made wood. The matriarch, Rozene Youngblood, is the epitome of the notion of a two-faced coined. On the one hand, she is a classy lady, married to the esteemed businessman John Youngblood, who she met at Devil’s Knot very own highschool as a senior, who performs the duties of a housewife to a perfection. On the other side, the real side, she’s a bored, lonely, repressed alcoholic. She hides her misery behind glasses of Rosé and plastic smiles as she laments the singing career she abandoned for traditional atomic family life. Her parents play the roles but never truly mean it, and while the rest of the town is fooled, their only child is not. Brooke has spent her life clearing up empty bottles and sick, while her father graces them with his presence every few weeks if only to criticise and make barb comments at the dinner table. Is it any surprise Brooke strives to break every social conformity she meets? She has first-class proof that bliss is not picket fences and neighbourhood barbecues.

→ After years of not only seeing her mom consuming more alcohol than Brooke ever thought was possible and the unhappy effect it’s had on their family as a whole, Brooke doesn’t drink. Even though she’s not of the legal age to do it yet, she’s already decided that way in advance. There have been moments she’s had it offered to her which she declined. On the whole, the number of parties she gets invited to is also on the low side so peer pressure and her exposure to it, besides being at home, is limited. She’s more open to drugs and has been known to smoke on certain occasions. Handing some of her cash in and sneaking a packet of cigarettes out, going on quick breaks just to have a quick smoke is rare but it happens as she tries to relieve herself from the not stop grind of her work ethic. Besides that, she’s open to experimenting and having a fun time. Anything to get out of this dreary, awful town, right? Even if it’s just mentally.

→ If Piggly Wiggly is an American staple, then Brooke Youngblood’s dark eye shadow and blunt cut bangs are a Devil’s Knot staple. As a young girl, she used to run around in colourful dresses and bows in her hair. It all slowly started to fade away but when she started high school, that’s when it really peaked. On their first day of high school, Brooke stepped out of her mother’s pristine car and all eyes met her. Her dark, long locks were always braided or beautifully taken back now were let loose and hung like a curtain down her back. A blunt fringe had been cut, somehow framing her face better and making her face seen at least five years older. Her eyes were rimmed with deep purple eye shadow, highlighting all her best facial features. She wore a simple purple dress with black Dr Martens. Since then that’s become her style and it’s what she’s faultlessly known for. Some say she’s the only fashionable thing about Devil’s knot and others say she seems like a demon sent from hell. Whatever it is, Brooke Youngblood is in never going to change it, despite her parent’s wishes to the contrary.

→ Brooke drives a old Chevy Impala. Although it’s not traditionally a car for young girls, Brooke isn’t traditional nor a young girl anymore. Once she got her license, she went car shopping with her mom which turned out to be a disaster. Her mom wanted to get her new, fancy open-top cars which she definitely didn’t want. As they drove back, Brooke spotted an auto shop where they fixed old cars. As she walked in, it took her all of one second to spot the car and ever since that moment it’s been hers.

→ Even though her parents met in Devil’s knot and it’s all she’s ever known, Brooke despises the town. It seems to be filled with pretentious people who are so worried about fitting a certain societal mould that they can’t think straight. All this white-picket-fence crap is enough to make her sick. It’s definitely not the kind of life she ever wants to live. One of the first things she wants to do is travel. Leave Devil’s Knot for good behind. She’s always sensed the darkness in this place and now with Brian missing, it’s only affirmed it once again. Even if no one else will follow her, Brooke knows she won’t be staying here forever. If she can help it not even another year. This very purpose is what drives her to work so hard, either she’ll leave by savings or good grades, whichever ends up being first.

#dkaccepted #accepted #brooke youngblood

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weshallneverrevolt · 6 years

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[Guest] Why is Pitbull Good?

Today I am pleased to publish the blog’s first guest entry. It comes from Daniel Dockery, an editor for Cracked, writer for SyFy Wire, comedian, and the world’s leading scholar on Pitbull (that’s only kind of a joke.)

My wife recently got me into the Who? Weekly podcast, a show discussing reality show stars, one hit wonders, and other almost-celebrities on the fringes of fame. These people are called whos, whereas people like Tom Hanks are called “thems.”

Rapper Pitbull exists at the precise intersection between a who and a them, a pop star everyone knows but also seems to know nothing about. His music, though shallow, is a reflection of that personality...and Daniel has thought a lot about it. Without further ado...

One of the most curious times in college is the Freshman year pop culture purge. Your taste in movies, TV, music, video games, and books, a taste that you’ve been developing for the first eighteen years of your life, is suddenly judged and dissected by your new university peers.

Your favorite rap song was 50 Cent’s “Disco Inferno?”

“IT DOES NOT PASS” says the gods of Olympus aka the Dudes in your Dorm. “YOUR PENANCE SHALL BE 50 REPLAYS OF THIS SAME GODDAMN AESOP ROCK ALBUM, AND ALSO A QUICK SCANNING OF THE JEDI MIND TRICK’S WIKIPEDIA PAGE.”

Your favorite film was Pulp Fiction?

“NO LONGER,” says the gods. “THOUGH YOU SHALL STILL BEAR THE PULP FICTION POSTER ON YOUR WALL AS YOUR SCARLET LETTER. INSTEAD, YOU WILL NOW WATCH THERE WILL BE BLOOD AND HAVE LIGHT DISCUSSIONS ABOUT ITS THEMES WITH THE OTHER DUDES IN THAT ONE FILM STUDIES COURSE YOU WILL TAKE.”

Your favorite book was Of Mice and Men?

“SO IT SHALL STAY,” says the gods. “BUT BE WARNED. ONE DAY, SOMEONE WILL HAND YOU A COPY OF INFINITE JEST, AND WHEN THAT DAY COMES, YOU MUST BE PREPARED TO ACCEPT SUCH A HALLOWED GIFT.”

And so, shedding your childish things, you enter the rest of college renewed. You’re now a person with “good taste in things,” which is the third greatest thing that you can have in college (The first is an ID, and the second is an uncle that owns a cabin.) And you take this “good taste” out of college and into the world. Though you may not discover as many “good things” due to having a more busy adult life, at least you will now be equipped to better judge between what is a “good thing” and what is a “bad thing.”

It was during this time that Pitbull hit me.

Pitbull, for those without radios or access to sports bars, is an American rapper born to Cuban parents. His hits, like “Give Me Everything,” “Don’t Stop The Party,” and “Fireball,” have become enormously popular, though he is probably just as well known for featuring on other people’s songs, signifying his inclusion in them with a “Mr. Worldwide!” and a “YEEEEEAAAAHHHHOOOOOOOOO.” To his detractors, these probably sound like the two trumpets of the musical apocalypse.

But I adore him.

Now, admittedly, Pitbull isn’t the best lyricist. He can spit a very, very competent verse from time to time, like in “Triumph”…

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But most of his songs are in the typical “Let’s get hammered and have some fun!” genre. And while his beats and production techniques have become more varied since around 2014…

…a lot of his tracks still follow that David Guetta pattern of “woop woop, woop WOOP woop, woop WOOP WOOP, WOOP WOOP WOOP” synth and noise lasers.

Also, his onstage persona of rapper/motivational speaker/geographer can be a turn off for some. I’ve seen him live twice (once at Madison Square Garden, and once at a music festival in south Florida) and between nearly every infectious, dance-ready song, he enters into a segment where he vaguely implores us to be better people and to also love the 305 (or whatever area code that you’re from.) It’s like a vodka-soaked inauguration speech, and in the middle of it, I’ve seen people in the audience go from “Yeah! This is different!” to “Can we get back to the grinding now?”

I obviously love Pitbull for all of these things, but they’re not what makes Pitbull good. No, what makes Pitbull good is his many, many quirks. Because while most consider him to be the Nickelback of rap music (with Flo Rida serving as the Creed of rap music, though that comparison is much more accurate), the world presented in Pitbull’s music is an insane one. For example, Pitbull’s tendency to constantly go by his alias, the secret agent “Armando Bond”, in various music videos about getting laid in hotels (He also goes by “Agent A” in his song “Back In Time,” a song created to promote Men in Black III. He works himself into the film in the video, nodding at Will Smith in a restaurant for no reason at all, and then leaving with his lady friend to go stand around in the MIB headquarters.)

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Or maybe one of his catchphrases “But forget about that,” which he employs whenever the verse that he’s just spit is not in line with the chorus in the slightest. If the song is called “LET’S SEX IN THE POOL,” Pitbull would spend an entire verse talking about how kids shouldn’t use drugs, and then quip “BUT FORGET ABOUT THAT. YOU KNOW THE RULES/LET’S SEX IN THE POOL. DALE’.”

Or Pitbull’s bizarre relationship with jokes, a thing that he’s still trying to master the basics of. In “Come and Go,” he croons “Now you heard about me/And I aint gotta say much/I aint talking about cars/It’s automatic, I’ll pop yo’ clutch.” Normally, you’d say that thing about the clutch, and THEN reveal that you aren’t talking about cars. But Pitbull states that he’s not talking about cars, apropos of nothing, and then goes into his sexual metaphor.

Or his penchant for referencing the most miniscule aspects of famous pieces of pop culture. During his verse in “Can’t Believe It,” a song about huge asses and there is no second subject, Pitbull says “Call me Michael Jackson (HEEE HEEEEEE,) ‘cause I love to play with monkeys.” He’s like an encyclopedia in that way, reminding you that “Oh yeah, Michael Jackson did go through a long ‘I have a pet monkey’ phase.” Or in “Better On Me,” where he states “My name aint Max, but I always got headroom/ G-g-g-get it, g-g-g-g-g-get it?” First of all, who in Pitbull’s primary fanbases remembers Max Headroom, much less the fact that he stuttered?

Or the fact that, despite being very prolific on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, Pitbull HATES social media. I’m serious. He says so in multiple songs. That dude LOATHES apps of any kind.

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She Instagram? I’m off that. Communism? I’m off that.

Pitbull is good because Pitbull is rewarding. He’s like an auteur filmmaker that keeps using the same cast and the same themes. He is hardly deep, but for those willing to pause the song and say “Wait, what did he just say?”, his discography is a journey. His stage shows are filled with scantily clad dancing girls, but it also opens with Tony Robbins listing what is basically Pitbull’s resume over a Powerpoint presentation. He’ll sing a dirty song about getting to third base with strangers, and then the next song will be an anthem to single moms around the world.

The biggest problem with dividing things between “good” or “bad” taste is that it rids us of our curiosity. The good things become worthy of your obsession and your understanding while the bad things are just bad. And when something, whether it be a movie or a musician or an Arby’s roast beef sandwich, becomes known as an objectively bad, all discussion ceases about it. Because no matter how much you try to convince people to check it out and dig deeper and maybe get curly fries to compliment it, they refuse. Because it’s “bad.” And they have “good” taste.

Pitbull is good because he proves that having “good taste” in everything isn’t that fun. Sometimes, you just have to drink some tequila and jam to some Pitbull, and the people that find him uninteresting just haven’t been paying attention.