#anyway. he's framed by roses in quite a few shots in the beginning + when he goes to leave at the end.

[starsandthorn]

feeling normal about the roses = secrets connection in mondstadt when i go to look at all the white roses in watatsumi and the ONLY yellow roses in sumeru that are placed behind where kaeya sat in caribert. btw

#personal stuff #delete later #was unsure if it was All roses so i went back and checked. #in noelle's story it seems more like it means only red roses. but in her hangout event she says roses are her favorites because etc etc #i love being right. #anyway. he's framed by roses in quite a few shots in the beginning + when he goes to leave at the end. #but they don't come into frame ONCE during his story about stowing away to sumeru until the end. #and then when he's talking about khaenri'ah itself they don't come into frame until he says it's all speculation and he doesn't know much #but then once dainsleif shows up they are in almost every shot. god #i'm sure it doesn't mean anything. explodes

[rosetheex-editor]

[Video transcript begin.]

[The transcript begins with the camera in a wagon, it faces the back of someone in a brown jacket. A ruby sewn on the back. The person's hair is not visible from the hood, their arm is outstretched, the black plastic handle of the wagon in their hand. In the background the faint jingle of a music box is heard, seemingly being played in the wagon.]

?: Remember what I told you.

[Voice identified: Rose.]

Sp: Don't play it loud. I know.

R: Yeah, we're close to where Ruby was last so y'know.

[Sparrow sighs, turning off the music box and dropping it in the wagon with a thunk. Rose stops the wagon.]

R: What?

Sp: Why are you worried? We've lived this long. Correct?

R: You and I both know anything can happen.

[A loud, metallic scraping noise can be heard distantly.]

R: W- What… Ok Sparrow come on.

[Rose tries to move, her arm grabbed by Sparrow. Bandages visible through the holes in the child's blue sweater. The scraping noise continues.]

R: WHAT?

Sp: I need… Water.

R: [Whispered.] WELL I DON'T WANT TO DIE

Sp: You have. A gun.

R: I… Good point!

[Rose drops the handle of the wagon and pulls a gun out of her pocket, Putting it very close to her head.]

Sp: Is that. Smart?

R: I have one fucking eye dude!

[The scraping grows even louder, as the source of the sound draws closer. A figure appears from behind the corner, a large metal object in one hand. They seem to have been using it to walk.]

R: STAY BACK OR I'LL SHOOT! I- I- what…

[The camera moves, Sparrow propping the camera against what is seemingly their legs. Both figures now properly in frame.]

[The first figure freezes, the metal object clatters to the ground.]

R: No no no no no, you’re dead, I saw you die. TWICE! I HELD YOU AS YOU BLED OUT THE FIRST FUCKING TIME! SPARROW PLEASE TELL ME I'M JUST LOSING IT.

Sp: No. Well… You pointed a gun at someone. So maybe.

?: … Hi.

[Voice identified: Edgar.]

R: Did I take my pills today? Sparrow, did I take them?

Sp: Yes. Yes you did. Hi mystery person.

R: [Whispered.] Am I dead? No, because Sparrow isn't dead. Can I see ghosts? No, why would I be able to see ghosts?

[Rose begins walking back and forth in front of the wagon, popping in and out of frame.]

[After a few seconds of watching, Edgar takes a step forward, almost immediately falling over.]

Sp: Are you ok? Rose quit freaking out. Help the mystery person.

[No response besides the same now jumbled whispers.]

Sp: I swear. Anyway. Are you good?

E: Yeah! I’m, uh. I’m fine. Just… yeah.

R: Quit talking to the dead guy Sparrow.

Sp: Eh? He looks alive to me. Are you alive?

[The man sits up, his features now visible. He appears to be covered in blood, his clothes look as if they’d been ripped up by a paper shredder, but he gives the two a thumbs up, smiling as if nothing was wrong.]

Sp: Rose quit being stubb-

[Rose turns around to face the child, tears falling from her one visible eye, a look of distraught on her face.]

R: I WATCHED HIM SHOOT HIMSELF IN THE CHEST SPARROW! I HELD HIM AS HE DIED! THEN JUST WHEN I THOUGHT I GOT HIM BACK HE GOT SHOT IN THE FUCKING FACE ON LIVE TV!

E: Um… surprise?

Sp: Hug him.

R: What?

Sp: Hug him. If he's dead you won't be able to right?

[Rose sighs, slowly inching towards Edgar.]

R: You sound like your birth mom bloody hell.

[Rose stops right next to the figure, her hands slowly tapping on her hips.]

R: Soooooooo. Um. Can I hug you? Ghost man?

E: Please.

[Rose falls to the ground and hugs Edgar, after a few seconds she begins sobbing.]

R: I- It’s… R- Really you?

E: [Sounding as if he’s holding back tears.] Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.

R: I thought… I. Y- you…

[Rose continues the hug, now sobbing on the man's bloody shoulder.]

E: No, I’ve– it was faked. For the show. I– I–

[Edgar finally begins crying, unable to finish his sentence.]

R: I… [Muffled.] Please never do that again… Please talk to me next time.

E: I won’t. I promise I won’t ever do that again. I’m sorry.

R: I was scared… I… God I don't know how long I just… Spent in a tree. After that I…

Sp: According to Ness and Henry 3 days.

R: I um… I'm sorry I didn't try and help, I missed you so fucking much.

E: Same here. I– don’t blame yourself for that. Please. I– it wasn’t. It was my fault. Not yours.

R: IT WASN'T YOUR FUCKING FAULT! Can people quit saying that!

Sp: Isn't that hypocritical?

R: [Muffled.] I don't practice what I say sparrow. [Unmuffled.] But my point stands! Not your fault!

E: I’m– I’m sorry, I can’t fully believe that. I… I can’t.

Sp: Mystery man. I was told to blame everything on showfall or Mai. So why do you blame yourself?

[Edgar looks up, tears streaming down his face.]

E: I had a choice to not pull the trigger, kid. And yet…

R: STOP! Quit fucking saying it was your fault you pain in my ass!

E: Rose, if it’s not my fault, then who’s fault is it?

R: You wouldn't have felt like that if not for Showfall correct?

E: … there were other factors.

R: Like what…

E: I’d… rather not say. Not yet.

R: I'm here no matter what, I promise. I'm not leaving… [Whispered.] I can't lose my family again.

E: Thank you.

[Edgar continues to sob, showing no sign of stopping soon.]

Sp: May I ask. Who is this mystery man? I zoned out except to correct you.

R: Wha-

E: Oh. Right. They’ve never…

R: Don't you have a pic- Nevermind that probably isn't very accurate now huh?

E: Uh… alright. [Clears throat.] Hello, Sparrow. My name is Edgar, nice to meet you.

Sp: You don't look. Like how I imagined.

[Rose looks over her shoulder, presumably toward Sparrow. A look of shock mixed with annoyance on her face.]

R: What?

[Edgar laughs, coughing a few times after.]

E: What did you think I looked like?

Sp: I drew. A picture.

[Fabric shuffling behind the camera, An arm pops in at the top of the frame pointing towards Rose. Who begrudgingly stands up and walks over to the wagon, paper ripping is heard and moments later Rose returns to Edgar with a piece of paper.]

R: Here.

[Edgar looks at the paper, and bursts out laughing.]

E: I– honestly, if I didn’t know what I looked like, this is what I’d think of, too.

Sp: I see. Also because it has become tradition. And you hurt me.

[Metal and fabric shuffling, after 5 seconds. Sparrow throws an empty metal soup can into frame, pelting Edgar in the head.]

Sp: That's for what you did in the forest.

[The man smiles, holding a metal arm to where the soup can hit.]

E: Yeah… I deserved that. Sorry, kiddo.

R: Oh. Hi adam- WAIT ADAM WHAT THE FUCK?

[Rose removes the hood over their head, long curly brunette hair falling out and covering a bandaged part of her head. As well as some of the patch on her back.]

E: Oh, yeah, um. Adam kinda just… showed up. After I… um. Yeah. Say hi, Adam.

[The robotic arm unlatches from Edgar’s arm, landing on the floor with a quiet clank. He uses the mechanical tendrils in the back part of the arm area to wave at Rose, before scuttling over to Sparrow.]

Sp: H- Hi?

[Sparrow's voice changes, for once not the monotone or sad it normally sounds. This time having a tone of joy.]

?: Hello. Sparrow. I have something. For you.

[Voice identified: Adam.]

[A series of mechanical whirs, before Adam hands Sparrow a lollipop.]

Sp: Wh- THANK YOU!

R: Hooooly shit I don't think I've ever seen the kid that happy.

A: I have had that. For many days. I felt now would be a good time to. Give it to you.

R: As long as you don't try and teach them arson I'm fine with this. You two being friends.

[Adam turns to look(?) at Rose, before producing a lighter from… god knows where.]

A: You are. Lame.

R: They are thirteen, no teaching them to burn shit down.

Sp: Ness did that, does that make her the cool aunt?

R: NESS DID FUCKING WHAT NOW?

A: Two. Things. One, I am under one year. Old. Age does not matter in the case of. Fire. And two. Ness burnt down a… ‘Night Club.’ With Ophelia. And the rest of the ‘Public Relations’ Department.

R: Oh right… I forgot.

[Rose mumbles something under her breath.]

Sp: Do not talk about. Wanting to sleep with the cool aunt.

[Fabric shuffling as if Sparrow was pointing at someone.]

Sp: He's under a year old.

A: I am but. A mere infant.

R: How the hell did you hear me?

Sp: I have good hearing. Please do not talk about wanting to be tie-

[Rose hops up and cuts Sparrow off.]

R: OK ANYWAY NEW SUBJECT! ADAM HOW IS UH… Everyone I can't really check in from here.

A: They are. Worried. For you. And happy that. Edgar is not dead. I do not pick up on emotions easily. That is all I have to say. Unfortunately.

R: They don't have to worry… I'll be fine.

Sp: You had us directly across from “Hetch's” office.

A: I must say. That is a less than ideal hiding spot.

E: You fucking what.

R: IN MY DEFENSE! I DIDN'T FUCKING KNOW THAT UNTIL MANAGER TRIED TO KILL ME THE OTHER DAY!

E: HE WHAT.

R: IT'S A REALLY LONG STORY THAT I DON'T FEEL LIKE GETTING INTO! JUST KNOW, MANAGER TRIED TO KILL ME, I SHOT MANAGER, I PUSHED A SHELF ON MANAGER, WE RAN.

E: Ugh, seems like we both had our own little run-ins with that prick. He runs fast, good on you for pushing a shelf onto them.

R: Running fast isn't an achievement when I ran through the mall with a plant on my back once.

E: Yeah, I’m just lucky I can run faster than him. They described what would’ve happened if I didn’t. So I guess that was some good motivation.

R: What? They just told me I'd be ‘fired’ even though I technically quit.

E: Oh, so you weren’t threatened to be… what did he say… ah! Right. ‘Strung from the wall on the first floor’? Lucky.

R: At least I don't think I was…

Sp: We should. Really plan to get out of here. That does not sound. nice.

E: Yeah. And honestly, even though he’s a little… er… incompetent at times. I do think Manager is going to be a large issue.

R: So what? We could be fucked?

E: No, not entirely. I’m just saying… if you see a red light approaching you, don’t wait around to find out what it is.

Sp: So red and green lights are bad?

R: Yep.

Sp: Hm. I see.

E: Merry Christmas, by the way. Sorry, the combination of colors reminded me that it’s almost December.

A: What’s. This?

Sp: A box.

A: Why.

Sp: I don't actually know. Rose answer that one.

R: Ok! Storytime I guess, y'all know how I was in here… A while?

E: Yeah?

R: Well, before Ruby escaped that one time, we had a hideout in an empty spot of the ventilation shaft. After she escaped I never got the chance to go back… I guess Ruby did when she came back because, I found that in said hideout.

A: … Neat.

R: I uh… Haven't actually opened it, there was a note that said I couldn't open it until on or after my birthday in 2010… Or 2011… Or 2012… Or. You get the point.

E: Hm…

R: Yeah? What's up?

E: Oh, um. It’s nothing.

R: I… If it's not nothing and you're lying. Will you talk to me about it?

E: … Fine. It’s… I was just wondering if anyone ever tried to help me during those 24 years I worked here.

R: I… Maybe? I know Ruby tried to help people… Dunno who all she tried to help honestly.

E: Huh… Well, I guess we’ll never really know, huh?

R: I… About that, do you think… Somewhere in there she's there? Like I was?

[Edgar pauses, staring at Rose, his expression changes several times, first from confusion, to deep thought, then to guilt.]

E: No. No, I don’t think so. Nothing salvageable, at least. I’m sorry.

R: I… [Whispered.] Why is everyone saying that…

E: There’s… something I’d actually like to tell you. It’s important. And fairly on topic, I feel.

R: What? What is it?

E: You’re familiar with… S.V2, right?

R: The… Thing in the tunnels? Right?

E: Yeah. I… have reason to believe. That it’s not just… one entity.

R: Wait like there's more than one or?

E: No, no. I think it’s… not just one consciousness.

R: I… What are you getting at here dude?

E: When it was chasing after me, both times. It looked to be fighting against itself, trying not to hurt me. There are still people in that fucking thing.

R: I… Do you think we can help them?

E: And… that's the reason I’m telling you this. We can’t. I know we can’t. Rose, I need you to listen to me. Okay? Just listen to me for a moment.

R: …

E: Even if there’s something left of Ruby in there. We can’t get her back. She’s too far gone. I’m really sorry, Rose. But we can’t hold onto hope for something like that. It’ll end terribly.

R: I… Edgar… I… Please…

E: If it were up to me, she’d be alive and here with us, but nobody can reverse what’s been done to her.

R: THE… THE REVIVAL THINGY! SHOWFALL CAN BRING PEOPLE BACK! YOU'VE SEEN IT! HELL I'VE FELT IT TWENTY-SEVEN FUCKING TIMES!

[Rose begins laughing, not out of joy or sadness. But her own delusion.]

E: Rose.

R: She's… We can… Please…

[Rose's laughing slows, she begins sobbing again.]

E: I’m sorry, Rose. I really wish things could be different. I really do.

R: I shouldn't be here… It should be Ruby in my place… She had a kid, a husband, a life… I'm just a dumb fucking kid.

E: Hey, you’re my dumb fucking kid. You have a life too, you know. You’ve got Ness, you’ve got Kath, you’ve got me. You deserve to be here just as much as the rest of us. Got it?

R: I just want my big sister… I can't do this… I can't…

E: You can. It’ll be hard, but you’re going to make it through.

R: I want her back… I would do anything…

E: I know, I know… we should… probably get moving, huh?

Sp: Yes. My back is hurting.

R: Yeah… I um… Yeah.

A: My back is also. Hurting.

E: Adam. You don’t– ugh, never mind. Could you go grab the crowbar? I was… using that to move.

[Adam scuttles over and grabs the crowbar, reattaching to Edgar’s arm, he begins to slowly stand up.]

R: There’s room in the wagon. Y'know that right?

E: I can walk.

R: Can you?

E: Well, I made it over here, didn’t I?

R: Edgar.

E: Rose, I need to use my legs, I’ve barely moved for the past… however long. I need to walk.

R: Fine, but if you need it. It's there. Uh Sparrow?

Sp: We forgot water.

R: I will get you your water.

E: Uh, so… are you two planning on going anywhere? Or do you want to follow me to where I’ve been?

R: Uh… Refill the water containers, go back to our hideout… That’s about it.

E: … the hideout across from Hetch’s office?

R: No, we changed location. Uh… This one should be fine?

E: Oh, alright. I… need to go back to Mari’s hideout. They might get worried if I just… don’t come back, y’know?

R: Oh… Mari…

[Rose clears her throat, then whispers something into Edgar's ear not heard by the camera.]

E: Rose, they… I’ve been told how rough of a choice that was. Don’t be too hard on them.

R: They shot her, not just in front of me but in front of the kid. I had to drag Sarah's cold dead body into a fucking plant pot.

Sp: Hm.

E: … At least it was painless…?

R: … I… Let's just get going.

E: Yeah, yeah. I’ll um… I’ll go.

R: No. I haven’t seen you in over a fucking month. Can we… Walk and talk?

E: Oh, uh. Sure. Yeah!

Sp: I have not… Gotten to actually speak to him at all. In person at least.

E: Mhm. It’s nice to finally see you in person, Sparrow. Your hair looks nice.

Sp: Thank you.

R: They uh… They remind me a lot of Ruby when we were kids.

E: Oh, did you cut their hair? Nice work, if so.

R: No uh… Ophelia from PR did.

E: Oh.

R: Listen I… I still don't trust them but… Ophelia is nice to the kid and Ness so.

E: Jeez, I’ve missed… a lot. Haven’t I? Ugh.

R: Emi and Eden um.

Sp: They slept together.

[Rose bolts around to face Sparrow.]

R: SPARROW!

E: They keep bragging about it in my inbox. I already know.

R: She wants to remask Sparrow.

Sp: Yeah um…

E: Jesus fucking Christ. Where’s a damn pack of cigarettes when you need one…

R: Remember how you had a pack on you… In the forest.

[Edgar pauses.]

E: … yes?

R: Sparrow!

Sp: Catch.

[Sparrow throws an object into frame, a cigarette pack. Rose catches it and hands the pack to Edgar.]

R: Sorry there's um… Only seven…

E: Wh– Rose… Have you been smoking?

R: Want the truth or the one that will make you less upset?

E: Neither, hand over the lighter. I’m confiscating it.

R: I've been stressed ok! [Muffled between her legs.] You try taking care of Sparrow.

E: Lighter. Now.

[Sparrow throws another thing into frame, a lighter. Hitting Rose in the right arm, followed by throwing a full soup can at her head. It hits with a thud.]

R: OW WHAT THE FUCK?

E: Hey. Knock it off. This family does not need more head trauma.

Sp: That is for the. Comment. Also. What is up with your limbs? Mr Edgar. We are. Almost matching.

E: [Quickly.] It’s nothing, don't worry about it, let's change the subject!

R: Dad. Don't.

Sp: You were eating yourself in there. Weren't you?

E: Sparrow. You’re being ridiculous, why would I ev–

[One of the pieces of fabric tied around his arm slides, revealing a deep bite wound.]

R: Dad…

[Rose hops up and walks to the wagon.]

R: Remove the fabric.

E: Rose, please. I’d rather not.

R: I'm going to doctor your fucking injuries properly. Remove the fabric so I can do that please.

E: You don’t need to, it’s fi–

R: Edgar.

E: Fine. But I get to put it all back over top of the wounds after.

R: Fine, it can be like your armor in a video game.

[Edgar walks over to the wagon, leaning heavily on the crowbar for support, he nearly collapses when he reaches it.]

R: CAREFUL! Oh my fucking god I'm turning into Ruby… Um. Not careful! I guess.

[The camera slightly shifts as Sparrow seemingly moves closer to Edgar.]

E: Um, just a warning. It’s… pretty gross.

R: I've seen… Whatever the fuck you want to classify those task managers as. I think I'll be fine.

Sp: If you show your wounds I'll show mine.

[Edgar carefully takes the pieces of fabric off of his limbs, revealing many bite wounds. Edgar does not look at either person who is nearby.]

R: Wait a fucking minute… Noona. Said you were alive, and you've been in a corpse room since the show.

[Edgar looks at the floor, not wanting to make eye contact.]

R: I… I'm sorry.

E: Mhm.

[Rose begins wrapping the bandages around his arms, she is seemingly humming a song. Though it cannot be identified.]

E: Er… my finger is also… broken. Um.

R: How.

[He mutters something under his breath, before clearing his throat.]

R: What? Ok you know what. Can we both make a promise?

E: … okay, what?

R: No more secrets. Please? Let's talk about this shit.

E: … Fine.

R: What did you mumble?

E: I… I broke it myself. Out of boredom. I’m sorry.

R: Don't apologize, I did something like that once. It's how I learned I have a secret talent… Well how I got it too

E: Well, nothing like that happened for me. I was just in a closet full of corpses with a broken bone.

R: I um… Christ… Should I share something in return? A secret?

E: Only if you want to.

R: First, I'm done.

[Rose snatches a small pocket knife from the wagon, cutting the roll of bandages, Edgar subtly flinches away, but regains his composure. Rose throws both objects into the wagon.]

R: Second. Why did you flinch? I… I'm not going to hurt you.

E: … I don’t want to talk about it.

R: I'm not going to hurt you, I uh… Think my heart would fucking explode if I tried.

E: I know, it’s just… I don’t want to talk about that right now.

R: Well then… Time for uh… Me to stop running from this huh.

[Rose sighs, seemingly out of sadness.]

E: Yeah?

R: Has Emi told you… Which part of my family she's on?

E: No…?

R: Great… Um… Has she at least said she's my half sister? I know she's told others…

E: I believe so…? Even if she hasn’t, you just did, so…

R: Ok! So… You know how I uh… I've stuttered kinda when talking about my mom?

[Edgar nods.]

R: Ok… I can't really keep dodging it, when I was five my birth mom… hooked up with another man, it was I think less than a month after my birth dad died.

E: Oh, uh. That’s… hm.

R: A week later, she got pregnant… Kicked me and Ruby out of the house, Ruby took care of me for 4 days before our aunt found us.

E: That’s… really awful, Rose. I’m sorry she did that to you.

R: Yeah, I uh… I call my aunt my mom because even though she was really strict… I know why she was. I was the ‘weird’ kid in school, I got bullied because I asked a girl out one time… Part of why my birth mom kicked… Me out

E: Fucking hell…

R: Yeah… It's why it hurts so much Ruby's gone… If it weren't for her I probably would've died under a bridge or something…

Sp: Can I ask a question? Perhaps to lighten the mood?

R: Sure kid… Go ahead.

Sp: Edgar does Rose know you slept with two separate men in high school.

R: Sparrow what the fuck?

E: OF ALL THE FUCKING QUESTIONS YOU COULD’VE ASKED, WHY THAT ONE.

Sp: I thought it was the funniest one.

[Edgar places his head in his hands, laughing.]

Sp: Rose. have you done things like Edgar?

R: Beat people with a crowbar or the other one.

Sp: You know.

R: Then no comment.

E: What I did in high school is none of your business, Sparrow.

Sp: But it's the business of tumblr dot com anons?

E: That’s the only thing I had in there! It was either answer that, or go crazy.

R: [Muffled.] I feel like I'm going crazy.

Sp: You don't get to talk, you no commented a question.

R: Dad help.

E: I can’t help you here, Rose. They got me good.

R: Fine want an answer?

Sp: You said no more secrets. Correct Edgar?

E: I don’t think it can apply to stuff like this!

R: [Extremely Muffled.] no. now leave me the fuck alone about it.

E: God, Sparrow. I was saving that story for… many years down the line.

Sp: You are both. Incredibly sad. So I picked the funniest thing.

E: You sure did. At least Rose didn’t hear it from Leooo… [Trailing off.] I mean. Um. Nobody.

R: You fucked Leon, congrats want a award?

E: I do not want a sex award, no.

Sp: Isn't Leon the guy in the apartment with your girlfriend and ex girlfriend. And Rose's girlfriend, and Mari's sister.

A: Don’t forget. Liam.

Sp: Yeah, Liam.

R: Can we not mention Ness at the same time as your asking dumb questions?

Sp: This is why she's the cool aunt. She wouldn't call my questions dumb.

E: Let’s move away from this topic. We should probably get going, huh?

R: I'm just glad to fucking see you, genuinely…

E: Yeah… I’ve… really, really missed you

R: Same… Um, can we come with you to Mari’s hideout? Just to visit?

E: Well, I don’t see why not.

R: Cool let me just.

[Rose walks over to the wagon, finally noticing the camera and Sighing for 5 seconds.]

E: It recorded all of that, didn’t it.

R: Y'know what! Fuck it! Record all you want because that was a happy thing you son of a BIT-

[End transcript.]

#((ooc) gore) #((ooc) mentions of autocanibalism #((ooc) suggestive) #showfall ask blog #encoreverse blog #rose

[prettynxsty]

Stirring the Hooch 🍷

Domme!Reader x Sub!Jin

Warnings: Morning sex, jin has a pussy, consumption of booze and drunkenness, graphic mentions of vomiting, appearance of ot7, dirty talk, jin is a little bossy, y/n has a big ass dick, use of noona/hyung in a non sexual way, a little bit of cum play, creampie, partially clothed sex.

A/N: Vacation sex with just a liiiiittle bit of plot lmfao. There’s no facefucking because i was worried that it was getting too long. Anyway, enjoy.

You all but crashed out of bed this morning, landing on your hands and knees with a muted thump. You would’ve patted yourself on the back for even managing to strip and change your clothes for bed last night, but you felt like you were still drunk.

You should have regretted everything that happened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. You plant your palms on the floor, rocking yourself forward and will yourself to start crawling. You knock your yoga mat away from your bags, watching the little purple tube bounce until it goes still.

You slap your hand over it, messily swatting it open. You crawl over it with a sigh and position yourself over the mat. It should have been a bad memory.

_

The table was 3 rounds of shots in before the waitress kindly reminded you that bottomless mimosas were only 5 dollars. Eyebrows rose around in a wave, sharing a devilish look of agreement. It was vacation, wasn’t it?

Something crazy began to leak out of your ears when you decided to cash in.

Namjoon was the first to throw himself to his feet, climb on the booth and begin dancing. Jimin whoops to the beat in encouragement, clumsily scrambling up on his chair to join his hyung.

Yoongi gets this strange look in his eye, dumping himself over Hoseok’s shoulder. They howled in laughter until Yoongi was crying. Actually crying.

What pleasantly surprised you the most is when Yoongi kneeled on the booth, facing away from the other side of the table, and began to shake his ass in a way that you wouldn’t have expected from him.

Jungkook’s faith was tested today, usually as the one who finishes everyone else's food, he decided to polish off the rest of everyone’s glasses.

Your sight of the world is stilted, moving in colored frames. You hear the noise of a bit of crashing and chair shifting, turning to see Jin. His sandals slap noisily against the floor as he barrels onto the dance floor, into the middle of the crowd.

Taehyung is bouncing up and down in his seat, shouting adlibs to the sound, pumping his hand in the air. You allow your head to fall forward, shoulders bouncing with a slow bout of laughter that makes your whole body bounce.

_

You slide your hands backward until they reach your knees, flipping your palms. You take a slow breath in, resting your forehead against the floor. You feel a dancing in your spine, your body so desperately wants to sway to sound that is not heard. The spirits must dance amongst themselves, you must return to yourself, to the terran world.

_

The same translucent lasso wraps around your arms and squeezes them to your sides. A burning call. You’re apt to rise when you’re full of this feeling, the pull is something indescribable. It crawls from the soles of your feet, causing them to tap. It races through you, your shoulders are swaying like a pendulum.

Deny yourself, you will not. You flew, tripping over the flat of the ground and blitz into the crowd to dance.

_

You breathe out slowly, flipping your palms and walking them forward. Your torso follows until your hips carefully nestle on the mat. Like sizzling wisps of smoke, the tightness knotted in you began to dissipate. You stretch your shoulders backward, gentle snaps and pops bursting in the air due to the tension knotted into your limbs like loops pulled too tight.

_

You’re screaming to every second beat, the world below is more than a reach away. Your legs are swinging through the gap between Namjoon and Jungkook’s shoulders. It feels as if the whole building is bouncing with you, your sanity went back to the home to rest.

_

You tilt your hips forward, leaning your weight onto the balls of your feet before rising into downward dog. Your lower back clicks, a rattling groan of relief shivers its way out of your mouth. You were finally beginning to feel your clothes against your body.

Your cock hangs limply out of one of the leg holes of your tiny shorts, scrunched up to your inner thighs. Your breasts sway gently, peering their way through the large holes of your oversized tank top. There was no reason that you wore that thing to bed, you usually woke up with a breast hanging out somehow.

_

It was a wonder you weren’t kicked out. You had no idea who paid for dinner, the amount would feel exorbitant. Nonetheless, a vacation should be indulgent.

Despite everyone being so ridiculously inebriated, you managed to concur that taking a taxi would be more trouble than it was worth since nobody was sober enough.

The villa was only a few blocks away anyway.

You hardly made it two block away from the place before everything seemed to fall into itself. Jimin dumped himself on the curb to take off his shoes even though he was only wearing sandals. Jungkook tripped his way over to the trash can on the corner as quickly as he could for someone who was plastered.

He grips handfuls of his shirt to hold it out of the way, even when drunk he was still meticulous. He retches weakly.

Risotto wasn’t nearly was beautiful or decadent when it came back out. Twenty-plus dollars directly into the bin on the city street. He gags so forcefully that he misses for a split second, a bit of cream colored mush dripping over the side before wetly splashing over the rest of the discarded garbage inside.

“Oh gawd- let’s go get him something.” Hoseok misses at patting your shoulder, but grabs your hand to drag you across the empty street to the convenience store on the other side.

You tried to straighten up when the cooler air washes over you, but your eyes were still very bleary. You stop by the baked goods and grab him a delicious yeasty smelling twisted donut and a ginger ale.

Hoseok stumbles up to the counter beside you, plopping a few bags of chips on it. “The salt will settle his tummy,” he explains quickly.

You give him a goofy smile, shaking your head and hand the cashier a little over exact change in cash. You gently push their hand away when they offer back the remaining coins, scooping up your items and head on your way.

You return across the street to Jimin struggling to stay awake from where he sat on the curb, Yoongi and Taehyung quietly hugging, Jin staring into the void of stars, and Namjoon showering kisses over Jungkook’s forehead.

“My poor Googoo,” he wails dramatically. Jungkook puckers his lips, prompting a raspy shriek from the older as he stumbles away. Jungkook chuckles, spreading his arms wide in request of an embrace.

You cringe, holding out the donut and drink with an awkward smile. It wasn’t as if he reeked of vomit, you just preferred for him to settle his stomach first.

“Googieeee~!” Hoseok shrieks, nearly tripping over the curb before hugging the younger man.

“Thank you Noona.” Jungkook pouts from over Hoseok’s shoulder, clumsily taking the items from your hand.

_

You turn your torso to the side, shifting your left foot forward into a lunge. You raise your arm with a slow breath inward, shifting your weight accordingly.

Jin was beautiful even when he snored all night, he was propped against the pillows like Snow White in her glass case. He’d opened his eyes quite a bit ago, silently watching you stretch yourself out.

“You look really tempting when you do that, babe.” He rasps.

Your impenetrable focus is shattered, causing you to cover your face with an incredulous laugh. “Before breakfast?”

“Hell yeah before breakfast, I don’t just wanna look, I wanna touch. Come here.”

“You’re still drunk too, huh?”

“There are a lot of times that I’m insatiable, but I want it right now.”

His assertiveness always sends a funny little churn through your belly.

You slowly shift the weight of your body onto your feet and stand. Not as heavy or dizzy as before, but a different tingling began to set inside of you. Your glance down, reaching to unfurl your shorts.

“Uh-uh, leave them like that.” He gives you a smile that’s absolutely devilish, shoving the sheets away from his lap. “Come to mama.”

It dawns on you as you approach the bed that he must’ve snatched up your shirt to sleep. It rode up his belly just a little, leading way to his light blue slip.

You plant your hands on the mattress, crawling in between his thighs. He leans forward, placing his hands on your hips and gently rubbing your sides. You cup his face, gently combing through his messy black tufts with your fingers.

His eyes scrunch up with a giddy chuckle, his neck was still flushed. Not quite as much as dark juice that leaks from berries gnashed between teeth. But rather the breath of age that colored ripened flesh of fruit from taught and pale shells surrounding infant seeds.

You imagined him as your first cabernet.

You were home alone. There was never any alcohol in the cabinets, not within your reach. However there was one bottle that sat on the highest shelf that’d begun to haunt your mind.

You thought about him day and night, wondering if you should be so daring as to wrap your fingers around the cork and pluck it out.

The bottle was dark, not so much as black, but an impenetrable brown of iodine or creamless coffee.

You stood in the pantry, door closed behind you as if there would be a soul to see. You rise with the aid of a little black stool, carefully grabbing the ruby red scarf wrapped around the bottle’s neck.

The pop of the remaining forth of the cork causes your breathing to break away. Dare it be said this noise was foreign, not yet attributed to merriment and celebration for you.

You raise the bottle to your lips and pour it in. The mouth feel is heavier than water, nothing unsettling.

Your tongue begins to glitter in a way you cannot determine if it’s unpleasant or lovely. Effervescence. Armoracia assaults your tongue, strangling with a fruitiness.

Your brows furrow, trampled all is with acridity. Your throat seems to close, denying entry to such drink, warming the back of your nostrils. With a thick noise, you manage to swallow it. A strange trail of fire roasts a trail over the back of your esophagus before heating the pool of your stomach.

Your adolescent tongue was unable to accord with this experience. Turned away, you squeeze the cork back in the bottle and return it to where it rest before and exit the pantry.

He, before you, a taste of wine that prompted you to have another sip. You couldn’t help but polish him off over and over again. His well never ran dry.

You kiss him with a soft hum. You imagine the taste of mature grapes. His lips push against yours hungrily, flexing and relaxing like the yielding of fruit under your teeth.

From the spring, you made him feel refreshed and clear. God himself ran your droplets from the glacier and straight into his cup.

He drank from many places, many streams. You were of the first, the only to cleanse and wash his palate.

Your depth, your minerals, mellowed his harshness, his sting. No longer rousing spirits, he bestows joy amongst all.

Your hand slips from his hair, landing gently on his shoulder. Your fingertips roll into the thick of his shoulder, squeezing it as he slips his tongue through your lips.

He reaches up the leg of your shorts, wrapping his hand around your warm shaft. He’s priming you to fuck him, to use him like some breeding buck.

He jerks his hand slowly but firmly. You groan into his mouth, nearly squirming at the sensation of your foreskin rolling and stretching over the tip of your cock.

Your hand drops from his shoulder, fingers dipping their way under his panties. His croon tingles the seam of your mouth as you slip your fingers in between his outer lips and spread them apart.

It was as if he shocked you, you pull from his lips with a wet smack to catch your breath. He always made you feel so crazy. Jin smiles, slowly thumbing at your tip.

The tip of your tongue heavily slips from your gums to sweep away the deeper notes on your bottom lip.

He hesitates not to drink of your spring, leaning in and draws your tongue between his mouth with a greedy swallow. Flushing and blooming, your belly burns just as your first taste did.

His lengthy fingers slip under your night shirt, curling around the heft of your breast. He releases your mouth with a full sigh of satisfaction.

You lift your fingers to your mouth, sweeping away his pussy juice with your tongue. You hum from the pit of your gut, you could taste the fruit of the land already. The musky aroma of papaya and melon, added tang of pineapple, the earthy, milkiness of coconut.

“I wanna do it raw,” he breathes as his knuckles gently close around and twist your nipple. You glance up at him, slipping your slick fingers out of your mouth and dig them back under the hem of his undergarments.

You never did it with condoms anyway, but he never failed to grasp his chance to set your blood asunder. You drag the tips of your fingers over his inner lips, stretching and spreading them. You drag your middle finger along the seam of his petals, swirling it around his hole and gently digging it against his clit.

He hisses, rolling his hips in hopes you’d give him more.

“Did you hear me?”

He releases his grip on your breast, cupping your chin and guiding you to meet his eyes.

“I want you to fuck me raw, that means I want you to cum inside of me.” His following moan is a beautiful titter as he drags the thick of his tongue over your lips, kissing you noisily. He releases the grip of your cock, wiggling forward to lay back against the bed.

He was only ever so demanding when he was itching for you to make a mess of him. As he moves to make simple work of his panties, you take note to do the same and rid yourself of your own bottoms.

You wiggle off of the bed, wiggling your shorts down to your ankles.

“You’re so bossy today. You’re gonna need to slobber on it first, Jinnie.”

His heart seizes, bursting into a shower of pretty pink butterflies. His cunt flutters immediately at the sonority that coats your voice in viscous amber.

He quickly walks his hands forward, shifting toward the end of the bed and rolling onto his tummy. He needlessly pretties himself for you, combing his hair away from his forehead. His eyes are positively twinkling as he rests his chin on the mattress.

“It’d be quite the inconvenience if one of the others were to come in and see me cramming my dick into your mouth,” you click your tongue. You place your hand on his head, lovingly stroking his cheek with your thumb. “Maybe I should use this mouth more often, it’s much quieter.”

He furrows his brows, inhaling quickly to fix you with a response.

Your resolve crumbles with your face scrunching up in amusement. “Okay! Okay! Don’t say anything, open your mouth.”

He makes a face, cutting his eyes at you as you grab ahold of your shaft and position it at his mouth.

_

“Fuck, fuck.. Turn around, let me see your pussy.” You step backward to free yourself from his mouth, trying to catch your breath.

He licks his swollen, slobbery lips with a smile and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Jin turns slowly, propping himself up on his knees. You took an unsteady breath inward to ask about his well being, but when he presented himself, you understood immediately.

His cunt was fully in bloom between his thighs, fatter, puffier. Healthily flushed and glistening, you clap your hand over his ass.

He whines, couldn’t you see the syrupy drips and trails clinging to his inner thighs?

You push his ass up with your palm, admiring how his pussy stretched and trembled. You decidedly slip your thumb just barely in between his lips and swirl your finger through his arousal.

You grip the base of your cock with your other hand and press it up against his hole. The upper half of his body relaxes instantly, slumping against the bed with a croon that sends chills spidering over your heated flesh.

You rock forward gently, pushing your way inside of him. Jin takes to you without hesitation, pulsing and squeezing around you.

“This fucking-” you clap your hand over his ass with more force “-cunt is always so good to me,” you growl.

He mewls when you bottom out, rolling your hips forward to push deeper into him.

You rear back, easily building your pace inside of him. You move your grip to taking tight handfuls of the shirt that rolled up his back, yanking him back against you with each thrust inward.

Each moan of his began long and drawn out like the soft calls of the loon under nightfall. You prop your foot up on the bed frame, planting yourself more firmly to set a stronger pace.

The noise of your skin clapping together began to bounce off of the walls, rocking to bed to which he gripped so dearly.

You allow yourself to fall astray of control, pounding into him with deep, sharp strikes. His moans quickly evolve into frantic wails, his voice catches in his throat each time you drag him away from squirming into the escape.

You cease only for a moment to allow him to catch his breath, to which his forehead drops against the sheets with a muted rustle.

A second was efficient enough, you shift your foot and plant it more firmly before you continue your assault on his poor pussy.

He whines something at you, muffled.

“What was that?” You purr, continuing to jerk your hips shamelessly. Your moans rise and flow from your lips like a steady spring.

He manages to lift his head, thrashing it with a keen when you plunge in just a bit harder than before. It was so hard to speak when you kept knocking the breath out of his lungs. “You’re too deep inside,” he whines, unable to control the moans squeezing through his noisy panting.

“It’s too deep?” You coo, feeling your lips curl in a slight smile when you watch his messy head of black hair bob up and down.

“Roll over so I can play with your pussy,” you slow your relentless thrusts and gently move back until your cock flops wetly out of his hole.

He slumps almost completely when you pull out of him, weakly propping his palms up and laying down. Use of his legs was reasonably impossible as of now, which you quickly noted. “Move back a little,” he scoots himself backward almost pitifully.

If you weren’t almost painfully hard, you’d be more willing to let him take a break. You climb onto the bed and straddle his right thigh, propping the left over your shoulder.

You nudge yourself in between his lips, guiding your shaft until it catches against his sloppy hole. He whimpers, dropping his head back when you push your way in. His pussy accommodates you with an indecent squish.

You wrap your arm around the leg thrown over your shoulder, rocking into him. You peer down at him, his eyes were still glassy from your abuse of his throat. Your breath hitches in your throat as you jerk your hips forward, the clap of your balls against the back of his ass echoes louder.

“I wish you knew what you do to me,” you sigh hotly through teeth clenched. Your molars grind together as you return to pistoning inside of him, mashing your pelvis into his.

He was foolish enough to tilt his hips forward, the entire bed rocks pitifully as a testament to its modern craftsmanship.

Jin was flushed down to his chest, puckered lips flapping with each noisy gasp. He felt so light, he couldn’t tell if he were near fainting.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” he yelps. He is barely able to lift his hands and shove his shirt around to play with his nipples.

You gently stretch his mound toward him, stroking your thumb around the spongy flesh near his clit. His shriek catches on the back of his tongue, you feel yourself begin to burn and melt.

Ruby red drips of wax cooling against a marble counter.

You nearly pull out of him on instinct, gripping the base of your dick with an ugly whimper. Your body seizes, rigid as you begin to cum.

You can hardly hear his breath in your ears over the sound of your heartbeat, your own moans are high and shaking.

You pull away from him with a rattling breath, unleashing a few final weak spurts against his folds.

You struggle to regulate your own rhythm, clumsily slipping your fingers in his sloppy cunt to spread your cum around. He whines, swatting at your hand.

“Heh,” your chest bounces weakly, “we were probably so loud.”

“I’m too tired to nag you, but I could’ve died.”

“Oh hush, we need to get ready soon.”

He gives you a crazy look before dropping his head back down and motioning you toward the door. “It’s not like you broke my legs or anything.”

_

“When do we get our turn?” Jimin calls from the dining room with a telling smile.

You stop cold in the entryway of the hall, turning to see the table full of your friends. They erupt in whooping laughter that causes you to continue hurrying on your way to run the bath. None of them should have even been alive at that hour, not with how they were last night.

“Nah, come back! I didn’t know Seokjin-Hyung could hit those kinds of notes!” Namjoon calls after you, cackling.

#sub!bts x reader #sub!jin #sub bts #domme reader #sub! jin x reader #sub jin x reader #sub!jin x reader

[felswritingfire]

April Brain Rot #1

Prompts: 

19. Elegant

12. “I gotta admit I’m a little surprised”

(Mafia AU) Vil x Reader

Summery: Vil takes you with him on a “business trip” and you talk to Cater Diamond about the names of alcohol. Specifically, the drink you ordered.

TW: Alcohol; suggestive dialogue

Word Count: 2,508

A note from Fel:  I don’t speak a lick of French, so I apologize if the French translations are wrong (I used Google Translate)! So, I hope you can forgive me and that you’ll still have a good time reading it! Enjoy!

“I gotta admit, I’m a little surprised. I never thought someone like Vil would bring… someone like you.” 

Your nose crinkled, eyebrows furrowing into an angry v. Your gaze shot from your drink to the man sitting across from you, a lazy smirk on his face as he widened the spread of his legs in front of him. He took a sip from his drink (a beautiful electric blue drink where a slice of lemon was wedged on the lip of the cup). “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

His eyebrows raised and a chuckle shook his chest. “No offense meant-” he leaned his elbows on his knees- “I just meant you’re much more of…” he nodded his head back and forth, seemingly trying to find the word he was looking for. “Of the innocent sort I suppose? Though, I don’t think innocent fits you properly. Not with what you're drinking.”

“Drinking? What’s wrong with my drink?” You look down at the whip cream topped drink that you had ordered after Vil and Rook went inside a VIP room with a man (you honestly thought he was a child at first, he had such a cute baby face and the way his red hair framed his face made him almost look angelic- though your view of him was shattered when he had opened his mouth to reveal quite the no-nonsense tone dripping off of each of his words). You had a feeling that the meeting wasn’t going to end anytime soon and Vil had, afterall, given you free reign to enjoy yourself at the fancy club that this meeting was taking place at; so you got the first drink you saw another patron had that caught your interest. It just happened to be the one that you thought might have something sweet in it. 

The man- Cater, you recall- tilted his head to the side, his green eyes shining under the bright lights of the club. “You know what it’s called don’t you?”

You looked at it and back at him, your eyes squinting at him.

“Oh, dear, maybe you are more innocent than I thought.” Cater placed a finger against his lips, a smile threatening to break out on his face. “It’s called a Blow Job, darling.”

Your startled expression throws him into a fit of laughter. You feel your cheeks flush as you grip your drink closer to your chest, eyes darting around the room. “I- it still tastes good.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” His shoulders are still shaking from chuckles and he wipes a tear from his eye before that annoying smirk crosses his face and he picks up the drink he placed on the table somewhere in the midst of your conversation. You frown when he stands up and makes his way around the table to sit next to you. “You know what this drink is called, Sweetie?”

You lean back from how close his face is- you can smell his cologne, something mellow yet expensive. You shake your head.

You realize too late that you have no more couch to scoot away on when your back hits the arm of the couch. You feel sweat pool at the small of your back when his smooth lips brush against your ear. “Sex in the Driveway.”

The tips of your ears burn in a blush. “Oh, fuck off.”

Cater throws his head back and another round of laughter leaves him.  

“Why do drinks have to have such weird names,” you mumble. Looking away from him and taking a sip from your drink.

“I don’t know-” he throws an arm over the back of the couch where you’re squished against the arm of it- “but they’re good conversation starters, no?”

You sigh. “I guess.”

Cater hums, drinking from his Sex in the Driveway before asking: “so, why did Vil bring you, anyway?”

I don’t know either. You scowled, tapping your nails against the side of the glass. “Didn’t have a babysitter, I guess.”

“Babysitter?”

“Yeah, Vil usually has these two guys watch over me for whatever reason- probably because I’m friends with him or something-” you suddenly stopped talking when you realized where you were and who you were talking with: a really fancy club, that had velvet red seats and a corner for rich old white men to play croquet, that was owned by one of the seven most influential mob bosses in Twisted Wonderland- Riddle Rosehearts- and you were currently sitting with one of said mob bosses cronies. You glared at him, scowling. 

He raised his hands shaking his head. “Hey, now, I’m not gonna go snooping for any dirt on Vil- they’re talking about a pseudo-partnership in there currently-” he nods his head to the heart-shaped doors that the three disappeared to earlier- “I don’t want to do anything to- ah- jeopardize that. Riddle’ll have my head, you know?”

“Good.” You say, taking another drink before continuing, “I don’t know anything anyway.”

“Oh? Aren’t you part of the Pomefior group though? They don’t let just anyone in without some sort of knowledge, you know.”

“Yeah, I know that. Might be because I’m one of the only people he trusts with helping him get ready.”

“Oh,” Cater’s eyes shined at that, leaning against your side. “So, you’re like his personal stylist?”

“Something like that. He always comes to my shop when he has time.”

“You have a shop?”

“Yeah, I own a boutique,” you smile. “Vil usually comes and commissions me for his clothes- always so elegant, you know? Really fun to work on and they just fit him. One of my favorite ones to work on was-” you blink, realization hitting you- “the one he’s wearing tonight, actually.”

Cater gasps, he places his drink down on the table, grabbing both of your hands and shuffling so close to you that your chests almost touch. “You’re telling me that you made that suit he’s wearing today?”

You nod, your cheeks warming once again. 

“He’s worn that suit more than once you know? I would do anything to get my hands on a suit like that- it complements his waist so well and the colors-” an almost squeal slips from Cater’s throat as he squeezes your hands- “divine. No one can take their eyes off of him when he wears that thing- well, even without the suit people don’t really take their eyes off of him, but- you get what I mean, don’t you?”

A small drop of pride blossomed in your chest, happy that convincing Vil to let you alter the color pallet had paid off. You nod, “yeah.” There’s a brief moment where you tug your bottom lip into your mouth with your teeth before you say, “you know I do take commissions- I can always make you one for the right price.”

“Really?” He reminded you of a puppy in that moment he was practically vibrating with excitement as he half situates himself in your lap. “You’d really do that for me?”

“Well- again- for the right price-”

“No, they wouldn’t. This suit is one of a kind and I do hope it will stay one of a kind. Isn’t that right, my Sweet Potato?”

“I- Vil! I- the meeting! How’d it go?” You feel the blush creep down your neck and over your chest- Cater whining and pressing against you, lamenting the fact that he’d have to commission you something else. 

“Incroyable!” Rook declared from behind Vil (who was still glaring down at you and Cater). “Roi des Roses and Roi du Poison have settled upon an agreement-” Rook wiped an invisible tear away with one hand while he placed the other on his chest- “Belle harmonie.”

“That’s great!” You smile at the small group of men. “That means you guys’ll be friends for a bit, huh? How neat!”

Vil’s brow creased and his lips tugged into a frown- expression caught between concern and frustration. “Who told you-”

“Ah, you’re so cute, (Y/N)-chan!” Cater suddenly wrapped his arms around you causing you to yelp, your face flushing a deeper shade of red. His cheek pressed against yours as he began to chatter: “Did you guys know that they didn’t realize they ordered a Blow Job? I thought they were going to be all hardcore and sexy, but no- they’re so innocent- look at them! Blushing because of a hug!” He laughed squeezing you tighter. “You should really try a Sex in the Driveway next! It’s super yummy, also it’s so aesthetic for pictures.” Cater's voice dropped to a whisper when he added: “even special types of pictures- I have a really nice driveway we can take those pictures at, you know?”

You can feel a scream build in your throat when Vil’s voice- too even, too calm- suddenly cuts in: “I do believe it’s time for us to go. I would appreciate it if you would let my Potato go, Mr. Diamond.”

Cater looks up at him from underneath his eyelashes. “Ah, yes, apologies, Don Schoenhiet.” He lets you go but not before leaving a kiss on your cheek as he grabs his drink and skips away with a wave. “Bye-bye, (Y/N)-chan! See you later!”

You sputtered, feeling like you were going to overheat as you stood on wobbly legs and staggered to Vil’s side. Rook’s fighting the urge to giggle at the situation as the two Dons talk between themselves to wrap up a few loose ends before they nod at one another and Vil is dragging you out the door by your elbow. 

The blast of cool air that blasted against your face as the doors opened pulled a quiet gasp from you. Vil still dragging you by the elbow, his expression fixed on the sleek, black limo that waited in front, a boy with purple hair leaning against the side of it. Rook waves to Epel and he nods, opening the door for the three of you. Well, you thought it was going to be for the three of you, instead you watched as Rook waved at you through the tinted window once the door shut and followed Epel up to the front of the car. 

You chewed on your lip, patting your lap as silence took up the space between you and Vil. He had his legs cross as well as his arms, glaring down at you. You looked up, with a sheepish smile. “So, the meeting went good, right?”

“It went amazing.”

“That’s good.”

The silence was beginning to seep back in again and you went back to chewing on your lip when you heard Vil click his tongue. “Stop doing that.”

“Sorry.” You felt your face flush.

“What were you and Diamond talking about?”

“I- huh?”

“My Sweet Potato, you know I don’t like repeating myself.” His eyes were unwavering and the sound of wind blowing across the frame of the limo seemed to be so much louder with the way the blood rushed to your ears.

You shrugged. “Nothing too interesting, honestly. He told me what my drink was called- which, I will have you know, was a complete accident that I ordered that thing, ok? I saw some guy had one and it had whip cream, that is it.” You rested your chin in your hand as you slouched to lean against your knee, a happy smile on your face, “and then I got to talk about my shop, so that was really nice.” You blink sitting straight again and looking at him: your eyebrows slightly knitted together and an honest shine in your eyes. “If you're worried that he tried to get some info from me about you guys, I didn’t tell him anything! It wouldn’t have worked anyway-” you look almost proud of yourself as you cross your arms over your chest- “I don’t know anything about what you guys do and I told him that to his face.”

“Anything else?”

You looked at Vil, tilting your head. He didn’t seem angry, more like… mildly annoyed? You weren’t completely positive, but the loosening of his eyebrows said that he was at least calming down from whatever set him off. “He… he asked me why you brought me if I didn’t know anything.”

“Oh? And what did you say?”

“I- I said I didn’t know either, probably because I’m your friend and that you couldn’t find my babysitters,” You chuckle to yourself, patting at your lap again. 

Vil blinks at you, before leaning back and covering his eyes with an arm. He sighs. 

You look up at Vil, concern suddenly tickling the bottom of your heart. “Vil?”

“What a silly potato you are.” You feel your face burst into flames as Vil shows you his face once again: his expression is raw- pure adoration and something that you never expected him to show you; the smile on his face is not one that is beautiful and perfectly maintained- it didn’t have a purpose- instead, it was soft, something so vulnerable that you could feel your breath catching in your throat. He leaned towards you, his hands finding your cheeks, he gently rested his forehead against yours. You feel your eyes flutter as you smell his perfume: apples and cinnamon. “I brought you with me because I remember you mentioning you wanted to go there.”

You gasp, an excited glint in your eyes. “I did, didn’t I?”

The smile stayed on his face as he leaned back. “Did you enjoy it?”

You nod. “It was just as pretty as I thought it was going to be- but I like your club a lot more. It’s just so much more…” you scrunch your nose and giggle when you feel him begin to play with your hair. “More you.” You nod, proud that you finally found the words you wanted to say. 

He pauses in twirling your hair, he breaths a laugh. “‘More me’, hm?”

“Yeah! It makes me feel safe,” you laugh, “It’s like being surrounded by your muse you know?” You smile at him. 

Vil pulls you into his arms. You feel him shivering and you wrap your arms around, being mindful not to rumple his suit too much. “Never change, my Sweet Potato.”

“I’m not planning to!”

Another breathy laugh as he brushes his nose against the skin of your neck. Your skin warm with a building blush. You two stay like that: happy, content in each other's arms before he speaks again: “you’re not allowed to converse with Diamond ever again, do you understand me?”

“He’s a potential customer though! I have to talk to him! Also, he seemed like an alright guy-”

“Looks can be deceiving.”

You pull away from the hug crossing your arms, forcing your cheeks to cool down as Vil stares at you with sweet eyes. “That’s not fair. You’re not even my boyfriend.”

“I can change that very easily, Sweet Potato.”

Your cheeks begin to burn as you let out the most pitiful yet happy noise out of your throat. 

<The Next Chosen Characters>

Thank you for reading!

#twst x reader #twst imagines #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #twst vil #vil x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #nonbianary reader #gender neutral reader #x reader #reader insert #writing challenge #April Brain Rot #tw: alcohol #tw: suggestive #cater diamond #twst cater #mafia au #sfw

[heliads]

Goodbye in C Minor

Luke Patterson was dating this incredible girl, Y/N, until he died along with Alex and Reggie. Now that he’s been stuck in the present day, he doesn’t know how to move on from the girl he left behind in the 90s.

masterlist

A girl leans against an open doorway. She takes in the band playing around her, the black and white Sunset Curve banners streaked with color. Her eyes flash over all members of the band in turn, but they tend to linger on the lead singer, a boy with a shock of brown hair and enough passion for an entire band of his own.

In fact, he doesn’t even notice that the girl has arrived until the song ends and he looks up, finally snapped out of his reverie. Instantly, a smile shoots across his face and he jogs over to her, unslinging his guitar strap from around his shoulders and setting the instrument down on a nearby stand. He picks her up and twirls her around in the air. The girl laughs, and her eyes meet his again once her feet touch back down on the ground.

One of the boys from the band shouts something to her from across the studio, his voice hopeful. “Did you bring us lunch?” The girl turns to face them, attention finally diverted from her boyfriend. She holds up a plastic bag full of boxed containers. “I did! Takeout, hope you don’t mind. And yes, Bobby, some are vegetarian.” A light-haired boy, Alex, does a silent fist pump. “You’re the best, Y/N. Honestly.” 

Y/N hands the bag of food over to the hungry bandmates, and all except one hurriedly dig in. Luke stays, interlacing his fingers with Y/N’s. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Y/N waves his concern away. “I absolutely did. You’ve gotten me into the Orpheum for your upcoming show, the least I can do is make sure you’re all properly fed. If I can’t help with music, I can at least help with this.”

Luke grins. “Trust me, I think the food is the best thing ever. By the way, Reggie wants me to tell you that we’ll invite you to every show on the planet if it means he keeps getting free lunch. Although technically you don’t have to worry about that- I want you by my side every step of the way, lunch or no lunch.” Y/N laughs. “That’s one of the most romantic things I’ve heard all week. Maybe you should put that into a new song. ‘I’ll love you even if you don’t bring me takeout.’”

Luke pouts, and Y/N giggles at his mock sadness. “I’m kidding. Mostly.” Luke leans forward to kiss Y/N. “You had better be.” From across the room, Alex yells something at them. “If you guys keep making out in the middle of practice we’re going to ban you from the studio.” Y/N waves her hand at him. “I brought you food, you can’t ban me! I’m too important to the future of the band.” Reggie shrugs. “She’s right, you know. We might starve.” Alex swats him on the shoulder, and Y/N turns back to Luke with a slight smile.

“I can’t believe you’re playing at the Orpheum in a week. That’s so exciting!” Luke nods fervently. “Sometimes it doesn’t even feel real. Like I’ll wake up and find out we were actually booked to some other place, not the actual Orpheum.” Y/N smiles at him. “You’re going to do great, and that’s final. I can’t wait to see you guys perform.” Luke absentmindedly runs his fingers over Y/N’s knuckles, tapping out the beats of half-written songs. “I know we’ll do great. I’ve got my muse. All of my songs are about you, you know that.” Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Even ‘My Name is Luke?’” Luke groans. “Okay, maybe not that one. Almost all of my songs are about you. How about that?” Y/N beams at her boyfriend. “That sounds perfect.”

Luke jolts back to reality. He’s still standing in that same studio, but he’s back to the present day. He’s not in the 90s anymore, and it’s been decades since he was writing songs with Sunset Curve, preparing to take on the Orpheum for the first time. He’s standing in the exact same place as that one memory, when he’d been talking to her. They’d both been so happy, so exhilarated at the prospect of Sunset Curve’s Orpheum performance. Neither of them had known that Luke, Alex, and Reggie would die that night, permanently taking Luke away from everything he knew best. Away from her.

There’s a slight motion next to him, and Luke freezes before remembering that he’s not alone in the studio. Alex has just walked up beside him, although his friend’s gaze softens when he sees the troubled look on Luke’s face. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you? You’re thinking about Y/N.” Luke sighs. “Yeah. I just- I can’t believe that all this time had passed. She isn’t here with us, and she didn’t eat those street dogs, so she must not have died. That means she grew up and she’s probably older now. I don’t know what to think about that.”

Alex nods slowly, placing his hand on Luke’s shoulder in a show of comfort. “We left so much behind that it’s hard to think about. If you ever want anyone to talk to, you know we’re all here. Julie too, although that might be more of a difficult conversation.” Luke blows out a slow breath. “That’s the problem. Things are going so well with Julie and the new band and everything that I feel like I should be happier, and I am, and then-” His voice trails off. Alex finishes the sentence for him. “And then you remember what life used to be like.”

Luke walks over to a photo tacked onto the wall. Julie had found some old snapshots of Sunset Curve and set them out in the studio. They were nice to see, but sometimes they tended to hurt instead of inspiring fond memories. One in particular catches his eye- the band and a couple of friends, mere hours before the Sunset Curve show at the Orpheum. It’s a faded Polaroid, showing a group of beaming teenagers pointing up at the Orpheum’s sign glowing in neon lights above them. Look what we’re about to do, they seem to say, look what we never got to finish.

Luke’s eye strays on the far right corner. He’s standing there, arm wrapped around a girl. Y/N. They’re both smiling, although in this shot neither of them are looking at the camera. Instead, they’re both turned towards each other, as if delighted by the simple fact that both of them are together. Luke remembers the details of that night in perfect clarity. They’d all arrived at the Orpheum and taken the photo, and then the boys had headed back to begin their sound checks. Y/N had watched them perform, making friends with a girl who worked at the venue. Rose, who Luke now knows is Julie’s mother.

Y/N always had this easy way of making friends. One smile, a few words, and it was like she’d known a stranger all their life. She and Rose had both cheered when Sunset Curve had finished their warmups, and then looked down at her watch in surprise. She’d said something about how she had to run and do some final checks with the venue staff, and she’d be right back. Y/N had kissed Luke quickly before dashing out the door with a promise that she’d be back in a second. Luke, Alex, and Reggie had disappeared down the block to get some street dogs. By the time Y/N had gotten back, papers and signatures held triumphantly in her hand, it was too late.

Luke doesn’t know what happened after that. He’s not positive that Y/N was there when he died, maybe arriving a few minutes after the fact. He’s not sure if that makes it better or not- although she’d be furious with herself for not being there to save him, Luke knows there was nothing she could have done. Would it have hurt more to be next to him, unable to do anything but watch as he breathed his last, or to have missed the entire thing? He supposes Y/N has had years to think the issue over.

Luke turns away from the photograph. His legs are itching to take him away, his heart racing to find something to do. The band doesn’t have practice today, so there’s nothing to distract him from the awful loneliness beating against his chest. He has to do something to get away from all of this, from the memories and the photographs and the knowledge that he had left the girl he loved behind and there was nothing to do to get her back. Luke mumbles something to Alex about how he’s going to take a walk, then poofs out of the studio, no clear destination in mind.

Luke reappears in the middle of a path. At first, he’s not quite sure where he is. There’s a line of pavement under his feet, leading away in front of him. Spring green boughs wave overhead, framing the way before him. The trees eventually clear out to form a clearing, and only then does Luke realize where he is. It’s the local cemetery, the place where all of Luke’s family have been buried. The place where surely he, too, lies at rest. His head must have some twisted sense of humor to bring him here.

Luke wavers one last moment, then decides to take off down the path. He’s never actually visited his own grave, as it seemed too morbid an activity to actually set out and do, but if he’s already here he might as well see it. There’s some sort of curiosity affixed to seeing your own headstone, weird as that may be, and at least now he can glance at it once and forget about it.

Luke passes between the long lines of gravestones, reading through the names. It’s late afternoon, and there’s almost nobody here at all. At least, there isn’t anybody here except one woman, who’s crouching before a headstone in the middle of the cemetery. On second thought, she appears to be around the place where Luke’s family is buried. As he walks over, he realizes that this woman is actually next to his grave. 

She’s speaking quietly. “Nothing much happened today, but it’s a Saturday, so I had to drop by anyway.” Her head drops. “You’ve been gone for 25 years. Can you believe that? 25. I miss you still.” A bittersweet smile cracks her lips, and Luke’s heart twists at the pain in her voice. “I have children now. They’re just beginning to enter double digits. At some point, they’ll be older than you. I wish you could have met them, Luke. I think you’d like them a lot.”

Luke’s head flies up when she says his name. The way she said it sounded so familiar, like he’s heard this woman before. Like he knows her, and knows her very well. The woman freezes slightly- she must have seen his small motion out of the corner of her eye. But that doesn’t make sense, because lifers aren’t supposed to see ghosts like Luke. Yet the woman still stands, lightly brushing dirt off of her legs. “Sorry, I’ll get out of your way. Didn’t see you there.”

The woman turns to face Luke, and her eyes widen. She stands for a moment, staring, and then her voice comes again, faltering and weak. “Luke?” She looks away from him, studying her own hands as if expecting them to be ghostly and translucent. “But you’re dead. How can you be here- Am I dead?” Luke shakes his head. “No, you’re not dead. I mean, I am, but I’m a, uh, ghost. You’re not a ghost. At least I don’t think so.” Luke’s voice trails off when the woman looks at him again. When she’s finally turned towards him, her face seems so familiar. It takes him a moment, and then he realizes who she is. “Y/N.”

It has to be her. There’s no way around it. Indeed, the second her name passes through his lips he knows it’s true. The Y/N standing before him is far older now, maybe in her late thirties or early forties. That would make sense, wouldn’t it? They were teenagers when he died, and if it’s been 25 years since then, she would have to be older. A slight lump forms in Luke’s throat. What would it have been like if he hadn’t died? Would he have been like this too? Would they have grown old together?

Y/N rubs a hand over her face as if in shock. “This makes no sense. I mean, you sound just like yourself and everything but-” Luke laughs quietly. “But ghosts aren’t real.” Y/N gestures loosely with her hand. “Exactly.” Her eyes flicker over him again, taking in every detail of his face as if committing it to memory. This small action itself is so strange to see- Luke remembers Y/N doing this at shows and practices, and it doesn’t feel right to see this similarity in a version of Y/N that is so much older, especially when Luke himself is still a teenager.

Luke’s voice is quiet. “Do you always visit my grave?” Y/N nods. “Every other Saturday. I think your mom and dad come all the time too. I try to give them some space.” She looks back at him, as if she can understand what he’s thinking. “We haven’t moved on so easily. There was a time right after you died when I thought we never would. I didn’t see how the earth could keep turning without my boys. And then the years kept passing by, and although the pain never got any easier we learned how to be happy too, how to keep the grief but remember you with brighter memories instead.”

She smiles, although her eyes are tinged with pain. “I’m married now.” She holds up her hand, and Luke’s gaze is drawn to the ring on her finger. “I think you’d like him a lot. We have two children, a boy and a girl. They know your parents well, we get together all the time. They supported me when I was in over my head, they pulled me out of a well when I was drowning in grief. I check in on them, and they check in on me. We were trying to do right by you.”

Luke feels like his legs are about to collapse underneath him. To see Y/N like this, so much older and calmer, feels like an earthquake tearing him apart. He doesn’t know why, but some part of him had almost assumed that she wouldn’t grow old either, that if he looked hard enough he could find her and they could be the same again. He knows now that he was wrong, although the sight of Y/N is still so reflexively exhilarating that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Luke forces himself to speak. “Are you- are you happy? Now, with your family?” Y/N nods, a radiant smile breaking out across her face. “I’m incredibly happy. Things are good now, and they’re going to keep being good for a very long time.” She looks at him, seeing the questions he’s too afraid to ask. “I’m sorry that things happened the way they did. I would have liked nothing more than to see you shine on that stage and have your star career the way that we always planned. I have a feeling that you’ve got a new chance now, a way to move on. I’d take it. You’ve always been able to stay on your feet and keep running forward. Don’t let that go.”

Luke nods. “Thank you, Y/N.” They exchange their goodbyes and then Luke disappears back into the trees. After a moment or two of walking, he poofs back into the studio. Luke walks on leaden limbs towards his songwriting notebook, flinging it open and reaching for a pencil. He turns to one page in particular, a song he’d begun writing for Y/N a few days before their performance at the Orpheum. He changes some lines, adds new chords, transposes the song from a major to a minor key. He doesn’t know how long he sits there, but when he looks up at last, the song is finished.

The title sits at the top, a blurry gray after recent erasings. ‘Goodbye in C Minor.’ The beautiful start to a love he never got to see through.

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagines #jatp #jatp imagine #jatp x reader #jatp imagines #jatp oneshot #luke patterson oneshot #jatp luke #jatp luke imagine #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke imagines #jatp luke oneshot

[jupiturt]

Request from Lex: may i please have a one-shot with akane or teru where he has a secret s/o and the secret gets out🌝🤌 gracias y por favor‼️

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SECRETS AND LANDSLIDES

a/n: lex ilysm- i literally wrote this again because my other draft of like 2k words made no sense lol </33

notes: fem! reader, mature language, one-shot format

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒

akane aoi x reader

— Why was your boyfriend who was beyond compared to you keeping your love veiled?

Dating was surely simple enough to abide by. Make your significant other content with what you both had to offer. Of course there are other added rules and additional options, it’s meant to be easy. Even so, there was one thing that made you overthink your relationship with the red-headed male. Something that made you wonder why he even made such an order for you to follow. And that was how your love was kept hidden in shambles from the public view.

People knew him to be the one who always took charge when others were afraid. He was quite known amongst his grade. Academically smart, driven, somewhat good-looking, talented—the list goes on as far as the distance between Earth and the sun. Endless, but it stops at some point.

He’s also a hopeless romantic, which doesn’t really come to mind once describing who he is. Once stuck in a conscious state with his childhood friend, Aoi Akane, absolutely smitten with her. Always confessing his extensive amount of passion for her, trying to marrying her despite being so young, though it never went his way. She rejected him countless times one couldn’t even keep track of the precise number she spurned his offers (except him). He devoted his entire life to the purple-haired female.

As time went on, his love for her withered away and decayed like a blood-red rose. Perhaps it was never meant to be, he thought while finally admitting defeat. But there was a new person to fall in love with again, and her name was Y/n.

꒰ᖭི༏ᖫྀ꒱

“I have a question for you Akane.”

You uttered, nestling up to him. The satin sheets from the bed were warm due to the body heat both provided laying down next to each other. He hummed while continuing to lay down kisses all over your arm, targeting the back of the hand mostly.

“What is it?” The red headed male responded in a hushed voice, already beginning to get tired. His eyes were closed shut due to the moon shining brightly as it seeped through the drapes of your room.

You stayed silent for a moment, practically hesitating to say the question you wanted to ask him.

He furrowed a brow, fluttering his eyes open to gaze at you curiously. It was as if you were in a frozen state, however you only stayed with a blank stare deep in thought.

Interweaving your fingers through his soft hair as a way to forget the negative thoughts. Asking, whispering, “Why do we keep our relationship private?”

“Ah.” His body became more awake after hearing that. “That’s only cause I don’t want anyone else to have you.”

‘Doesn’t that just sound... off?’ You thought, lost in his words that made you overthink every single detail. The change of his tone, his words, and how he didn’t even look at you when saying it. Because even after a few months of dating—he never plucked up the “courage” to finally showcase his caring girlfriend in which he adored. Knowing him, the vice president wouldn’t do anything like that, at all.

He was always full of pride and would constantly brag about his achievements to people he either hated or didn’t care what their opinions were. If that were true, he wouldn’t be desperately hiding what you both had. You thought that if you were Aoi, the graceful female, he wouldn’t keep anything hidden from the world.

꒰ᖭི༏ᖫྀ꒱

The bells chimed, it was time to finally go home. Dreadful countless hours have passed and students were set free from their endless piles of school work, except for some since they had homework. You could see people walking in pairs of two, holding hands as they gazed at each other lovingly. It made you feel empty for an instance, but brushed it off as you started to make your way outside the building, going towards a hidden place where you and Akane met after school.

Viridescent leaves swayed and danced along with the vigorous gushes of wind, wanting to snap from the weak twigs they resided in. Finally branching off, the leaves flew everywhere and even landed on the back of your uniform. Picking up your pace—your eyes were now met with a male standing still as he looked out into the distance.

Seeming to notice your presence, he turned his head around and a grin was now present on his lips. “Hello, my beautiful Y/n.” Akane said as he extended out his arm wanting for to hold yours. A small smile was now etched into your lips as well, clutching his hand immediately when you got more closer to him.

He pulled you close to him, hugging you as if his life depended on it. “I haven’t seen you all day, I missed you.”

It was true. Not being able to act all lovey-dovey at school made it seem you both didn’t know each other at all. Not being able to be with him and act like you always did.

“I know.” You murmured, placing a peck on his cheek while continuing to embrace him.

His heart raced so fast he was mentally sweat dropping if you felt or heard it. At times he wondered how he managed to end up with someone. Never knowing he would because of all his interactions from before with a certain violet haired girl.

Like the possessive lover he is, he let go of your frame and placed his palms to your cheeks, leaning forward and making his lips touch yours. You widened your eyes due to the surprise you felt. Yes, he always did this practically everyday—but it never grew old.

It took a few seconds to recollect what just happened, but you found yourself melting into the kiss as well. Moments like this are what you cherished the most; wishing for it to last forever.

He pulled away, leaving the both of you at a loss of air. “I just love you so much.” He breathlessly whispered.

“Me too.”

“Lets walk home together, shall we?”

“We always do dummy.” You teased while flicking his forehead, making him roll his eyes then smile afterwards (he rarely ever gets mad at you).

Interlocking hands with each other, turning around while starting to stroll down the paths of the school. The crowd of students from earlier had died down—even after less than an hour there wasn’t a single soul in sight.

It was always like this, walking with him after school when there wasn’t anyone around. He kept your relationship hidden as a sense of protection. Akane didn’t want for everything to be revealed like how it was for him and Aoi.

Not taking long for you both to arrive at the front of the structure, you still both held hands. It was comforting, reassuring, it felt doting.

“Tell me about your day, how was it?” He asked.

“Ah, nothing much happened really. Just another school day.”

“Really?” He looked towards the side, gazing at you. “Well, it does get tiring at times. Say, how about we go somewhere today? Since today was kind of boring.” Akane offered.

You stopped in your tracks, making him do the same. “That’d be nice.” You beamed, a red hue appearing onto his cheeks. “So—where will be going?”

He pondered about it for a while, not speaking up. A few seconds passed by and it seemed he had a brilliant idea. Although his eyes were focused on something else now, whispering a curse under his breath.

“Is everything alright?” He didn’t respond. Looking where he was shooting daggers at, a tuft of blond hair stood still along with a few others students that were playing around with one another.

A tense atmosphere sat along the two groups, the blond haired male smirked, “I was wondering where you’d go in such a hurry when school ended. I guess my question has been answered.” Smiling while glancing at you.

Looking over at your boyfriend, everything about him seemed different. His clenched teeth and fists, the look in his eyes, for the thing he was trying to keep hidden was revealed—and by the person he wasn’t fond of.

“Y/n... lets just leave.” He murmured, loud enough for you to only hear. Nervously gulping, you shook your head, squeezing his hand while starting to lead the way.

“If you want, I could keep this little secret hidden.” Teru proposed. “And I’ll make sure these... idiots will keep their mouths shut as well.” He chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose as the other students kept messing around still.

“It’s fine, do whatever you want.” Akane was annoyed at this point—not wanting to associate with the student council’s president, already having enough with him. “I don’t need anything from you.” It was the last thing he said as he started walking with you once again.

Awkward to say the least, you didn’t know what to say as you both arrived by a wooden bench. He slumped down in the chair, you standing in front of him. The red haired boy groaned and placed his palms to his face, “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

You fiddled with your fingers, “At least it didn’t go as bad—

“I guess, but still... I’m sorry for what happened.” He looked up at you, “You know I thought about something, for a while actually.”

“What is it?”

“If you want, we can make our relationship not so hidden anymore. I just want to be able to do things with you.”

At a loss for words, all you could do was stand still as he grasped your hands, his thumbs grazing over your fingers. It was actually one of the first times he initiated a conversation about this topic.

“I don’t mind, but are okay with it?” You nervously asked.

“Yeah, a thousand times so.” He then picked up your arm and located a peck on the back of your hand.

“Lets just forget about what happened earlier, how about we go to a cafe?”

“I’d love that.”

END.

EVEN I HAD SUCH HIGH EXPECTATIONS FOR THIS BUT IT WENT DOWNHILL CAUSE I DID HALF OF IT IN THE CAR SND IM PLAYING GOLF HAHAHA idc anyways hi

#toilet bound hanako kun #hanako kun anime #anime #writing #jshk x reader #jibaku shonen hanako kun x reader #jshk hanako #jibaku shounen hanako kun #tbhk akane #akane aoi #🖇—anna’s fics

[deadlyflan]

Figuring out the OCs from an as-yet-unpublished TMNT fanfic. Come meet my AU.

October 1 - Journey - 1,635 words. Donatello. Helen. Rated G.

A formal knock and a nervous voice pulled Donatello from his work in the barn.

“May I come in?” It was one of the girls. Well, probably all of the girls. They didn’t go anywhere without one another even now. The side door on the barn stayed shut. They were legitimately waiting for permission.

“Come on in.” Donatello turned off the propane to his blowtorch. He wouldn’t be shaping sheet metal or piping while the girls were in the barn. A ringing hammer would kill the conversation. He pushed back his goggles and peeled off his homemade workman’s gloves. Stepping around the beginnings of his geothermal heating system, he wiped his brow with the edge of his canvas apron and pulled up in surprise. It was just Helen.

“Helen? Is something wrong?” Donatello snagged his bo staff, ready to take off towards the farm house immediately.

“No.” The turtle woman toyed miserably with the edge of her oversized sweatshirt. “Yes. But no.” Her bald head alternately shook and nodded; the faint striping on her cheeks contorted with her distress.

“Okay.” Donatello spun through a quick assessment. She wasn’t out of breath, so she hadn’t run down to the barn. But she was at the barn alone—Helen and her sisters were never alone. It absolutely terrified them. Some more than others, but still, they had to be line of sight with another sister or there was crying. Speaking of crying, Helen had started sniffling. Okay, something was wrong. “Here, pull up a seat.”

Helen scrubbed her face on her sleeve viscously and slunk over to one of his pair of work stools.

Donatello hopped up on his own and waited for her.

Her boot raised and lowered a few times in confusion and she scowled at the stool.

He realized the problem pretty quickly. “If you spin the seat clockwise, it should lower.”

None of the girls were athletic or even very coordinated. Yet another holdover from being raised in a laboratory: not much in the way of sports education. Add in Helen’s petite frame? She might be five foot in her boots. Maybe.

Still, he wasn’t Michelangelo, to go lifting and moving the girls like they were children. That wouldn’t help them. They were adults. They deserved the respect of equals. Everything was an opportunity to learn and Donatello had always learned best by doing.

Several squeaky revolutions later, Helen had hauled herself up onto the stool. She huffed and picked at the loose bolts on his work bench.

“You came down to the barn by yourself?” Donatello wanted to take the opportunity to praise her—encourage her, anyways. Independence was a horribly difficult thing to learn as a 19 year old. She deserved to celebrate the big steps.

She stared back at him and her beautiful face smushed up like a green tomato. “They were so mean to me!!” She sucked in a huge gulp of air and quickly shook her head. “No. No. They weren’t mean. They weren’t mean. They’re good girls! We’re good—They were—they just didn’t listen to me!” She tried to pull her knees up to her chest, felt the stool wobble and gripped the work table. She hunched over and pulled her sweatshirt down over her knees instead. “Th-They always lis-sten to me!”

Ah. Sister dynamics. Remarkably similar to brother dynamics, but distorted by their lifetime in captivity. Donatello picked his words carefully. “What did they not want to listen about?”

“They didn’t want to take a bath at b-bath time.” Helen’s face read of utter betrayal. The schedule was sacred. “M-Michelamj—My.Kell.Angie. MICHEAL. AN. JELLO,” she staggered through his full name, and somehow still made it sound contemptible. “He said we were going to get dirty in--in--in the kitchen anyways and should bathe afterwards! Even Dinah agreed!” Oh, that must have been a blow to her ego. Dinah never disagreed with the schedule or with Helen.

Donatello bit his lower lip. This was wonderfully low stakes. No one was bleeding. The world wasn’t ending. He knew she didn’t think this was funny. He wasn’t going to laugh at her. She was genuinely upset. Relief was already flooding through him, though, and she was still crying. Terribly unfair of him, really.

She stared at him, waiting for him to agree that Mikey’s plan was obviously madness. “Who w-wants a bunch of d-dirty turtles handling the food?!”

“I’m sure he had everyone wash their hands, Helen.” Donatello fought the corners of his mouth. He would not smile.

“I know! I know! But if we wait to shower, w-we’ll use all the hot water when you all need it for your sh-showers after practice!" She bounced her fist on the work table. "And I-I h-had t-treats for them,” she started strong, but trailed off in a mumble because she wasn’t supposed to be stashing food ‘treats’ for her sisters outside of the kitchen. It brought ants. And mice.

Donatello bit back a sigh and let the ‘treats’ pass. He and his brothers had had food caches all over the place when they were younger and food was harder to come by. It was habit that came with food insecurity and fear for the next meal. Not something that could be undone overnight. Really, Helen had been doing better. Or hiding it better. But trust had to go two ways, so, as far as he knew, she had been doing better.

“So, if I understand correctly, you came down here to the barn, by yourself, because your sisters listened to Michelangelo’s suggestion that they postpone bath time until after they made a mess of themselves and the kitchen?”

Helen nodded and wiped her face on her sleeve again.

“Did you take a bath on your own, then? Since they chose not to bathe right away?”

“No! I don’t want to take a bath alone!! I don’t want to be alone!” She sat up straight, popping her knees back out from under the sweatshirt.

Donatello held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “But you walked down here. By yourself. Alone.” He watched understanding dawn on her features. They smoothed out as her mouth opened and her brows rose. “That was a brave choice.”

Helen blinked at him owlishly, her giant honey-brown eyes, rimmed in red from crying. She sniffed to clear congestion from her nose. “I…?”

“Chose. You chose to come down here on your own.” Donatello let himself smile a little.

“Like how my sisters chose to listen to Michealanjello?” She frowned and pulled her sleeves down over her hands.

Donatello shrugged, but didn’t contradict her.

“This is. This is what April and Master Splinter were talking about, isn’t it?” She almost whispered as she put the pieces together. “Learning to make decisions?” She swallowed thickly. “I thought it was a weird thing to talk about. We answer questions and make decisions all the time. But they meant. … decisions by— or for— or alone. Ourselves.” She considered the revelation with a pensive flick at the bolts on his table. “I … I don’t like it.”

Not what he’d been expecting to hear. “Don’t like it?”

“They chose Michealanjello over me! I don’t like it!” Helen’s light yellow stripes bunched righteously between her brows. She deflated. “I chose you over them, though. I. I left them behind.”

“Hmm. I think it’s not quite that dire, Helen. Mikey’s suggestion was solid. I’ve seen what he kind of a mess he can make in a kitchen. And, for what it’s worth, there would be plenty of time for the hot water to refill before after-practice showers. Though it was nice of you to think of us.” Donatello took a shot in the dark. “I would bet your sisters didn’t know about the treats?”

She wouldn’t make eye contact.

“Right. So they made their best judgement based on what they knew. That isn’t choosing one person over another.” He swiveled a little and eyed the geothermal heater panel to gauge where he had left off. “They probably miss having you up there. Michelangelo too.” Even if she kept getting his name wrong, or maybe because she kept getting his name wrong, his brother adored having Helen around.

“But I’m here. Away from them. By choice.” Helen’s eyes filled up again, but the pending tears were guilty. She’d abandoned them.

Donatello cocked his head to the side. “It can be helpful to get away from siblings sometimes. Vent your feelings a bit. Talk about what’s bothering you. You can always go back when you feel better. I don’t think you chose me over them so much as you chose not to be upset directly at them while you were keyed up. That’s still a good sister thing to do.”

He could see a few places on the metal where he got the angles wrong. He would have to reheat those elements and shape them correctly before he went much further.

Helen sat in silence on the stool for while before sliding off. She closed the distance between them and gripped his forearm just before he could pull on his working glove. Her three fingers squeezed a light staccato pattern on his skin. One of the girls’ silent signals, but Donatello didn’t know this one. The girls rarely used their secret language overtly, and Donatello swallowed with a the sudden knot of implied trust tightening his chest. That had meant something, hadn’t it?

“Thank you.” She let go. “I choose to go back to the house.” Her delicate chin rose with determination and she smiled just enough for her dimples to peek at him. Those dimples were criminally unfair. No wonder Mike put up with her butchering his name.

“Alone?” he asked.

Helen hesitated, but took a deep breath and confidently stated, “Yes.”

After the barn was quiet, he found himself wishing he’d chosen to go with her.

~~~end scene~~~

@oc-growth-and-development

More about this AU tagged #tmnt chain reaction

#oc-tober #prompt list #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #tmnt chain reaction #tmnt donatello #tmnt oc #tmnt au #donatello #helen #sisters #siblings #found family #tmnt fic #trauma recovery #feelings are complicated #codepency #down on the farm

[soyunaagente]

Crossed Wires

Thank you @pridelumos​ for trusting me enough to write this request! 

This is the first one I’ve ever done so I hope you all enjoy it! 

Word Count- roughly 2,200.

Warnings- mentions of murder, guns, sex, drugs. My terrible writing. 

The ticking of the office clock was the only thing breaking the tense silence. Yet another day had passed and not a single tip, clue or evidence was sent in. You sighed loudly and got up from your desk. The evening sun still flooding the room in a warm glow. 

‘Someone’s in a good mood,’ Agent Roger Knapp commented on your louder than normal exhale. 

You shot him a look as you poured yet another cup of coffee, The third of the day. ‘It’s been weeks Roger, weeks. We still know shit.’ You’re fresh, not three years out of the academy, still  chomping at the bit to make a difference; after all you’ve heard about the emerging ‘drug war’ in Mexico.  The more….seasoned agents have gotten cynical over the years. Unless it falls into their lap they don’t bother to investigate. 

You dropped into your comfortable office chair and slumped over the desk. Letting out a frustrated groan. Honestly? If you knew the adventure that was about to ensure you’d  wish for a few more of the lazy office days. 

----------

Miguel Ángel Felix Gallardo, arguably the most wanted man in Mexico, leaned back in his office chair. Specially designed with French leather. Not for the faint of heart. He too let out a frustrated sigh.  The Gulf was weeks away from overtaking most of the land border into the United States. All he’d been able to do was sit back and watch it happen. 

He sighed again and stood up to look out the window. The fading rays of sunlight doing nothing to ease his apprehension. The Gulf was mere weeks away from securing the majority of the land border between Mexico and the United States. It would lead to a drop in profits; and an increase in problems. As if he hadn't had enough, Tijuana and Sinaloa were in a war, Pacho had him in a vice grip and Maria was gone. Fled. Kids and all. 

Miguel lit a cigarette, as he watched the ash tip onto the stone balcony he realised there was no point in wallowing. This wasn't going to sort itself. At least this may be something he could fix. Miguel caught his jacket from the coat rack and slammed the door behind him. 

If he had known the events of the next few days maybe he would have gently closed the door instead. 

----------------

You stood at the side entrance of the offices, leaning against the door frame and watching the Guadalajara streets begin to light up with nightlife and music. You glanced back at the building you called a workplace for a moment. Your eyes scanning the stonework. When you laid eyes on him, however.  your jaw dropped to the floor. 

Strutting up the steps to the main entrance. To the United States DEA base in Guadalajara Mexico was none other than the man that had saved your life almost two years ago. 

Miguel Ángel Felix Gallardo.

*Sinaloa two years prior*

As the first female in the DEA you felt as if you had a point to prove. This was your shot to do it. The biggest night time raid the DEA was about to undertake in the city of Sinaloa. Three houses, two down, now it was your turn to show off all you had learnt. It's not an Old Boys Club anymore. 

In the end it had all happened so fast. First you lead the team tactically into the premises, cleared the perimeter. You did everything by the book. After that night you learnt that rules become blurred south of the border quite often.

 There was a sudden whirr of bullets, frenzied screaming.... an odd smell of smoke. Fear overtook you when you heard the order coming from your Walkie Talkie. Two words registered. 'Ambush... scatter.'

You gripped your gun so tight it was a miracle it didn't snap in two. Barely taking in your surroundings you ran. Hastily. The streets passed in a blur. Your lungs felt on fire as you slowed your steps. Slowing to a stop, leaning against a building. The panting made the footsteps approaching behind you inaudible, it was far too late by the time you noticed. 

The sickening click of a gun being drawn from its holster behind you caused your face to drain of blood. Trembling you slowly turned. You were staring down the barrel of a gun.

 Seconds ticked by. The masked gunman's hand trembled. In that split second a gunshot rang out.. as you were thrown to the ground. You kept your eyes squeezed tightly. A warm hand ran down your arm. Daring to open one eye was the best and worst thing you ever did. You opened both. A pair of deep brown eyes stared back. Entranced. He helped you up, how kind of him. 

Once steady on your feet you got a good look at the man. Time for round two of heart attacks of the day. One of the most wanted men in Mexico had his hand in yours, his other holding your elbow to keep you steady. He looked, well, he looked concerned. 

'Estas bien mija?' 

Your mouth opened and closed.

 He chuckled. 'We,' he gestured to the giant of a bodyguard standing over your would be killer's corpse. 'saw what happened. He was on our hit list anyway.'

You felt your cheeks heat up. His voice was like melted butter. He squeezed your hand. 'I hope I'll see you again... agente.'

 ------------------------------

A bunch of roses with no name attached appeared at the office two weeks later. After getting a LOT of shit from the other agents you figured it could only be Miguel who had sent them. Two days later a necklace arrived. Your internal monologue went a little like ‘Oh no Oh no Oh no no no no no no’, especially when you realised the butterflies before evening opening the little box tied with a red ribbon.  He’s a goddamn Narco. You’re meant to be putting him in a prison to rot.

You threw the flowers out and hid the necklace in your wardrobe. Get rid of all keepsakes and therefore all memories. He’s not for you. It’s not right. It’s damn illegal. 

Now here he was walking as calm as could be into the lion’s den. You stayed watching his cool demeanour. His cockiness. That blue suit, that jet black ha-no stop. You didn’t even notice the small smile appearing on your face as he disappeared indoors. 

Realising the worst thing you could possibly do was follow him. So you waited. Hiding behind a tree. Smooth. Real smooth. He emerged from the building about twenty minutes later. You almost deflated in relief as the car turned the corner and sped off down the next street.

Naively thinking it was safe you returned to your desk. Only to have Roger and Chief Jamie Kuykendall waiting with eyebrows raised and an unreadable look on their faces. Jamie was the first to speak. ‘We-um- we had a visitor.’ 

You acted confused. They fell for it. ‘I- we- Felix Gallardo was here. Looking to give us information,’ he finished. 

‘Wha- what?  How? Why?’ you babbled.

‘We don’t know the specifics. That’s the problem, we haven’t the faintest idea why he wants to give it to us. All we know is. He’ll only give it to you.’ Roger intervened. 

Your jaw hit the floor. ‘Me?’

‘No, he came all the way in here to ask for the Pope. Yes you,’ Roger snapped.    

Jamie handed you a scrap piece of paper. ‘He asked to meet you for dinner. He’ll give you the information then.’

Your brow furrowed. The moral compass going into overdrive. He’s a narco. He saved your life. You’re just getting information. Pushing all the thoughts aside you nodded slowly. ‘I’ll do it. It’ll be okay.’  Whether you were convincing them or yourself is still up for debate. 

You didn’t sleep at all that night. The bed was uncomfortable, the night was too humid, the pillows were uneven. All excuses you convinced yourself were the issue. Sitting straight up at dawn you stared at the wardrobe. The necklace. Sneaking up on the shelf you caught the box and pulled it down. Inside lay the most beautiful silver and diamond collar. 

Slipping it on felt right, It fit like a glove. The dress you chose was a bit risqué to say the least. But you know, we have to give him something to look at. Grabbing your purse before leaving you noticed a driver and his car outside. 

‘Para ti Senorita,’ He opened the door. Champagne and truffles awaited. The smell of the new leather filled you with apprehension as the streets rolled by, before long you were in an unfamiliar part of town. The filthy rich side. The driver pulled up to a villa straight out of a Hollywood movie. The old fashioned villa, complete with a football field sized yard  and outdoor pool was a stark contrast to the cramped apartment you called home. 

Feeling slightly out of place you followed the driver to the entrance. He pushed open the door to a beautifully ornate interior. A butler handed you a glass of champagne and led you to the outdoor terrace. A table for two was set, with a view overlooking the city. It was almost too much. Almost. You took a seat at the table. Admiring the white table cloth and, of course, the vase full of roses as a centre piece. You nervously tugged at the necklace, anxious for Miguel to arrive. Still mixed feelings on the whole deal.

‘Hola Senorita,’ that voice, It stirred something in the pit of your stomach. 

‘Hola.’ There was a slight bit of tension in the air as he sat across from  you. The look in his eye was mischievous, bordering cocky. 

‘Antes de cenar agente. Tengo un regalo para ti.’ He pushed a brown envelope across the table. You let your fingertips touch it before he lets it go. You take another glance back at him. The cockiness is gone. This is the envelope with everything in it. Names, addresses, routes. You tapped your fingers on it for a second. Contemplating. Eventually deciding against better judgement you slipped the invaluable information into your purse. A look of relief washed over Miguel’s face. 

It honestly took you by surprise how funny he could be. You felt a six pack coming on before dinner was even served. The tension disappeared. As the wine flowed you felt more at ease with your supposed arch nemesis. His shoulders slowly dropped throughout the meal. Simply enjoying the company. The butler cleared the dinner dishes away. As he did so the sound of slow classical music filled the night air. Bringing with it Miguel’s invitation for a dance. Slightly embarrassed at the prospect he put you at ease by assuring you he didn’t know the steps. 

He held your hand in his. His grip around your waist was both comforting and reassuring. You simply melted into the embrace. Resting your head on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat was music to your ears. That moment, nothing could ruin that picturesque moment.  The smell of his expensive cologne, the feeling of his cool shirt against your skin.

You gazed up at him, his beard tickling your upper lip. You felt a smirk, his hand around your waist tightening. Oh dear, no. You place your hands on his chest where your head once lay. He looks at you, concern filling his eyes. ‘Que pasa mija hm.’ 

‘I-I.’ you fumble. ‘This,we,’

He stopped dead in his tracks. Moving his hands to hold your shoulders gently but firmly. ‘What are you worried about?’

You stared down at the floor. ‘I can’t be a notch on your belt Miguel. That’s not what this is, I'm a DEA agent. Of course I’ll be forever grateful for saving my life but…. But I just-’

His grip became slightly firmer. Barely noticeable but yet, you felt it. ‘I’m not going to bring you to my room mija. If you do decide to, it'll be because you want to. Not to, what, thank me for the information? That’s not what this is.’ His tone was reaffirming. Yet Calming. His juxtapositions were almost overpowering. How could one man be so much Ying and yet, so much Yang? 

You held his hand. Entwining your fingers with his. ‘This is the way it has to stay Miguel,’ your voice cracking slightly. This is the way it has to stay. 

You quickly wiped a tear from your cheek. With mascara threatening to run you turned to leave. Picking up your purse you took the first steps. Before bidding adieu to the glorious villa you  glanced back at the Narco standing in front of you. ‘If you have any more information you know where I am.’ 

With that, you bid the man that firmly held your heart farewell.

#miguel angel felix gallardo #miguel angel #miguel angel felix gallardo x reader #narcos mexico #narcos mexico imagine #narcos

[reigning-rhapsody]

Bittersweet

Strifesodos, past Gengeal; 2841 words

No TWs

The ear piercing noises of pots and pans and what sounded like now unusable plates briefly silenced the patrons crowding Seventh Heaven and let about everyone in the bar flinch in unison- all but one. Cloud merely quirked up a brow as his head shot towards the kitchen where the newest member of the staff, though it had been months since he’d joined and kept some work away from the ever so eager-to-work Tifa, had been on duty to cook for the evening.

I am, by no means, a great cook, he’d warned them at first, which turned out to be more than true, but his tastebuds didn’t lie, nor did his memory. He could tell what needed more salt and what had to stay cooking on the stove just a bit more until it was at its best, and he knew quite a few recipes for someone that, apparently, was no good as a chef. He wants to evade working any more than just as a bartender, Cloud assumed at first exactly because of that, but as good as the man was when it came to acting, as he had proven quite a few times, what he told was no lie.

Tifa insisted he should try cooking, and Gaia, it was worse than Marlene’s mud-pies from when she was younger. According to Barret, at least, who entered the establishment with a growling belly longing for a meal right as their chef in the making had finished his… attempt. A burnt pot and sore stomachs were the victims in the aftermath of Genesis Rhapsodos’ cooking despite everyone who passed him in the process paying attention to him wearing the glasses he was supposed to have sitting on his nose.

If one wanted to trust the promises given by Tifa, who insisted that teaching her new co-worker how to make some proper dishes was essential, he was a fast learner, and occasionally he even suggested to make a few meals he had memorized. No one knew as to why it was that he had recipes in mind, but no one bothered to ask either. One thing was clear though, the guy sure liked apples.

“Cloud, can you check on him?”, Tifa’s voice rung behind the blond addressed by it, barely able to be heard as the chatter and laughter picked up among the patrons again. She was busy, carrying two trays with food and drinks and a plate on one of her outstretched arms on top of it, so it was understandable she didn’t even wait for an answer and moved to the table that awaited their order. His next delivery would be in about twenty minutes and as slow as he could make himself walk, to evade whatever mess just occurred behind that door a few feet ahead of him would was impossible. Better get it over with quickly.

With a sigh, Cloud turned fully to face the direction of the kitchen and closed the gap that separated him from the door with a few swift steps slipping past filled tables. The blond swung the door open while his unoccupied hand rested in the pocket of his baggy pants. “Hey, the hell-?” He started, cutting himself off as his Mako infused gaze fell upon a kneeling Genesis staring at the floor like he was about to propose to it. Or rather, to the soup on the ground surrounding an upside down pot, porcelain pieces of what once upon a time were bowls circling the romanticized mess like ivory rose petals.

Genesis didn’t look up, nor did he answer, nor did he acknowledge Cloud and pretended the delivery boy wasn’t even present. He picked up the shattered vessels meant for the customers to eat what he begrudgingly prepared out of, seemingly doing his utmost to keep his eyes averted, or fully hidden to begin with.

Cloud narrowed his eyes and stepped forward so the door could fall shut behind him, swaying in and out of the room a few more times and allowing whatever curious mind sat in the much busier space of Seventh Heaven to catch a last glimpse of the scene playing out in the no-customer space, although who was sunken on the ground being covered by Cloud standing in front of him. He approached Genesis, both hands now in the confided space of his roomy pockets as he simply stared down at who he usually had to crane his head back for to make eye contact. Seeing someone who held himself so highly on the floor picking up shards with his own hands, it was amusing in a slightly sadistic way to say the least.

He knew that speaking up would only end in a discussion, then an argument and then a passive aggressive verbal fight that could break out into something physical at any given second. At least it sounded like that, anyway, but if it was the truth stood in the stars since the pair usually got interrupted when they got into another of their near daily banters. So he kept quiet and stayed put until the slender ginger would say the first word. And so he eventually did, pausing his task to exhale a defeated sigh and with what was left of his pride for the day.

And yet, he didn’t look up. “Not. A word.”, Genesis punctuated with a clearly irritated voice and Cloud just replied with an entertained huff. “Need help?”

“No.” “Uh-huh.” He didn’t have the time to put up with the mage’s stubbornness and crouched down, reaching out to grab the pot whilst his eyes remained on the culprit of the ruined meal. Finally eye-to-eye, Cloud noticed the missing black frame supposed to reach behind Genesis’ ears, “So, let me guess…”, the younger man started, turning the pot around and holding it by the handles, “You knocked this all over because you’re not wearing the glasses?”

That earned him a venomous glare, but an exposed one. Unlike Genesis’, his own vision was just fine, and thus not spotting the black supposed to be added to the color scheme around his face wasn’t just an illusion. “I don’t need them,”, the redhead barked back, “As I’ve told you before. You all are being dramatic over nothing at all.”

Hearing him out of all people judging what crosses the line of being too dramatic made Cloud snort and shake his head at how ridiculous that was, much to the wannabe-cook’s further annoyance. They locked eyes, three triplets and one glassy, milky-white outcast cataract.

The cracks scarring the porcelain skin roped themselves from his left eye over the same side of his cheek, shimmering through the applied makeup that attempted to hide them in vain as it had been vanishing with the sweat glistening on the man’s face from standing in a hot kitchen for hours on. Like veins dotted with thorns, they reached down his neck, reaching over the visible parts of his equally pale chest that was exposed due to the button up Genesis wore being partially undone. He could only guess how much of his body they tainted. They are what caused that vision problems too, as he’d been told by Genesis.

“I know I’m just mesmerizing, but make yourself useful if you refuse to let me handle this on my own.” An arrogant voice pierced Cloud’s zoned out thoughts and he blinked himself back into reality, not having the best experiences with anything piercing him. If it wouldn’t have been a vocal trigger that brought him back though, it would’ve been the smell of something burning.

“Agh- shit!” Genesis cursed under his breath and got on his feet again, groaning at his aching legs that fell asleep staying in the same uncomfortable position for some time. Cloud followed and watched the man place down the pieces of the bowls he’d already picked up next to the stove where a pancake was smelling like the victims of his flames- although it wasn’t on purpose for once.

Another swear muttered as he turned off the heat, or at least what Cloud assumed to be one since it was spoken in the ginger’s native language, and grabbed a spatula that rested on the workspace to his right to try and scratch the pitch blackness off the bottom of the pan. After some hard work was put into saving what could be saved, or what he hoped to save at least, that being the pan, Genesis put the inedible dessert on a nearby plate flipped over.

Both pairs of eyes in the room stared at it in silence, Cloud approaching with caution like what was sitting there was a Behemoth about to jump up and eat both of them whole whilst minding the puddle of broth, veggies and meat on the floor. He then stood next to the creator of the ‘food’ and stared it down. Roasted darker than his outfit, the smell was absolutely unappetizing and nothing looked appealing about it at all. It even took he blond a bit to figure out that there were apple slices mixed into the darkness, swallowed by it like stars during a cloudy night sky.

“Well… not that it was satisfactory, anyway.” Genesis admitted in defeat, much to Cloud’s surprise, although his ego must have been knocked down a few from their earlier confrontation. He might even go as far and claim he saw the slightest, embarrassed blush tinting the ex-SOLDIER’s pale cheeks, though mentioning it would only result in more than just a pancake ending up scorched.

“How the hell did you survive this long?”, Cloud asked with a wrinkled nose.”

“Thank you for your, as always, comforting words.”

“And what do you want me to say?”

“Nothing. It’s-”, Genesis took a deep breath, tightening his ponytail by dividing it into two strings in his hands and pulling, “There was never a need for me to learn how to cook. As a child, we had someone that cooked for us, and when I went to Midgar I first lived off of cafeteria food.. which I, eventually, resented and blatantly refused to eat. Then it was takeout, mostly, and once we became firsts we got an apartment together, so I had Angeal cooking for me.”

The drop of his name briefly silenced Genesis who still had his leer cast upon the failed attempt of a pancake. His lips thinned and he swallowed dryly, hands placed flat on the surface of the workspace. He exhaled a breath through his nose and his shoulders twitched weakly in a half-chuckle. “‘You’ll stay out of the kitchen when I’m cooking. You’re banned from the stove, Gen.’”, Genesis mocked a deeper voice to the best of his abilities, a bittersweet smile curling on his lips, “Sugar sweet, no? I never needed to learn how to make anything for myself. It was a thing I had done for me, and people never minded, either.”

“Not that that would have gotten me to start learning.” He added after another few seconds filled with nothing but the mechanical whirring of the fridge a few feet away from them. “Angeal, he uh… He loved cooking, but baking even more. The pie he made was to kill for, and whenever he made it, I would sit there and watch. Talk to him, sometimes even help. Providing he let me, that is.”

Finally, he looked up again and turned his head to look at the other swordsman. “No matter what I will make, it won’t live up to what he did.”, his head then hung low once more, “Nor would it satisfy him.” The normally so confident and boasting voice, teasing and preaching highly poetic metaphors nobody but him understood, grew lower in volume, quieter with every word vocalized and brought to live by it, although it sounded dead, unenthusiastic. It wasn’t a voice that fit Genesis.

“Or me.” His hands visibly gripped the edges of the big table harder, like he was trying to ground himself so he wouldn’t fall into a void that existed to eat him up from the inside, fill him with the worst of what life had to offer. His eyes fell shut, knuckles turning white and his fingers shook ever so slightly until he straightened his posture to one that equaled that of a candle and let out a shaky breath between agape lips, mismatching eyes fluttering open again. “I should clean this up now. Don’t you have a delivery to fulfill, hm?” Genesis ushered, his intent to get Cloud out and not show any more weakness than what just occurred beyond noticeable. It went under his skin, let the hair on the back of his neck rise and spread goosebumps across his arms.

It was… so damn depressing to witness.

“Ah. Ah- yeah, right.” Cloud reminded himself and reaches for the PHS in his pocket, flipping it open to check the time. He had a few more minutes. Watching Genesis move to a cabinet where a few kitchen towels were stored from the corner of his eye, the blond warrior pocketed his phone again, ran a hand through his artfully spiked hair, took a deep breath that let his chest puff out, counted his blessings and took off a glove with his teeth to grab the round little mistake sprawled out on the plate. Leather glove dropped in his lowered hand once it returned from brushing back the sunny mess on his head, he made sure the golden-brown side was the one facing the floor and placed it against his lips. He swallowed, opened his mouth and took a generous bite.

The first few times of chewing were experimental, eyebrows knitted together and eyes nearly pinched shut, though he discovered that keeping the part which wasn’t tainted by the lord of the Underworld and all evil himself judging by the pitch blackness trademarking it did make it a lot more bearable. Whenever some of the burnt bit brushed over his tongue he just gave it his best to swallow that piece, his tastebuds welcoming the sweet flavor of the apples dancing over it whenever he was lucky to have some in his mouth the more bites he took.

Two down, about two or another three to go. It wouldn’t be a chore to eat it if it weren’t for the burnt side, he had to admit, so Tifa wasn’t lying when she said he improved and was indeed a fast learner.

“You’re insane, Strife.”

Cloud nearly choked on the load of pancake occupying his mouth the moment Genesis caught him forcing down the food. He cleared his throat and properly swallowed what was left on his tongue. He ‘tch’ed, glaring at the dessert like it was his worst enemy. “I didn’t eat anything yet today’s all. Don’t want Tifa to get on my ass for not eating again.” “And how would she know?” “She… just does- you should be glad I’m making what she’ll say to you less worse.” The sunny haired man silenced himself by ripping another huge piece out off the pancake, so much it only left one last bite instead of a possible three. Although his angles eyebrows raised into a less hostile expression when he saw the slightest bit of a smile growing on the auburnet’s plush cherry lips. He stopped chewing for just a moment, taking in- no, admiring what he did by refusing to let someone sulk and keep self loathing. “Get out, or I’ll tell Tifa all of what just occurred was your and only your fault.”

Cloud playfully rolled his eyes, though did as told and moved towards the door, no intentions of a further exchange made- not on his side, at least. “Oh, also-”, he was stopped by Genesis speaking up once more, coming to an abrupt halt and half turning around, “You should pay me a visit when I am on cooking duty again sometime, maybe I have more blissfully tasting food for you to devour.”

Cloud snorted, “No promises.”

“Don’t you speak to me with a full mouth, learn some manners.”, Genesis retorted with a playful hum before truly dismissing the other with a flamboyant wave of the hand that didn’t hold a soup-soaked towel.

This time truly exiting, Cloud pushed the last small bite of the pancake into his mouth and chewed with stuffed cheeks, hands returning to his pockets as he eyed the bar counter where the delivery was stored. Forcing down the rest of the half-bitter-half-sweet mistake, he glanced over his shoulder one last time to see Tifa hurriedly moving into the kitchen. He exhaled in amusement at the distant chatter coming from behind the door swaying door before it fell shut completely and blocked out the conversation though. Cloud moved behind the bar to crouch down and grab the package that needed to be driven to Junon and set on his way out of the warm and cozy confinement to let the cold air hit him full on.

Genesis sounded more like himself again, he noted.

#book of scintillation | writing #savior's sickness | cloud strife #and in the end all that kept me sane was you | strifesodos #I FINALLY GAVE THEM A TAG #not my proudest but it works #no idea if cloud is well written i am Not a cloud mun #forgive me cloud muns that read this #but STRIFESODOS!!!! #they live in my brain my fucking god #recalcitrant redemption | sideverse #burning passion | shipping #strifesodos #genesis rhapsodos #cloud strife

[blu-archer]

Mr. Park’s return

So, I’m not sure what to make of this really... like it’s not really a sickfic thing - I don’t know.. it might be, I’ll just say it classifies, it’s more of like a little continuation bit in this series and because I felt like writing about it... I’ve had this sitting with me for a while, so I may as well post it.. it felt a bit everywhere, there’s some knew characters I just tossed in because I needed too and we’ll just see where that leads, yeah? 

[there is probably grammatical errors, my first language is English I just can’t proof read - its a rough life] anyway, I hope this is somewhat enjoyable, its kind of a mess

This is supposed to be just a small filler type thing I guess

Snz based but like its rather mild.

‘Sickie’ : Jimin / [Felix? its faint really]/ [Yoongi is mentioned, but yeah]

 Hybrid AU

 Part 1,  Part 2 , Part 3

Word count: 5376

I tossed some Stray Kids in here because I love them too. 

“Good morning everyone.” Jimin smiled at the class of juniors settling in their seats as warmly as he could considering that he was still trying to recover from days of fever. He still felt tired and a weak, with some lingering symptoms, but he was tired staying at home doing nothing.  He needed to work again, get back into a routine so that he wasn’t lazing around all the time. So, he had suited up in warm clothes and more makeup than usual to hide the dark rings that had still not left him.

The class stared at him with a mix of confusion and curiosity before greeting him with about the same enthusiasm he had done to them. He supposed that was fair, it wasn’t like they knew who he was really.

He cleared his throat, dropping the exam booklets onto the desk set up in the front of the room, before continuing on with as much forced giddiness as he could manage. No one wanted to head into an exam with a dark unwelcoming mood, so if he could brighten it by even an inch then he would be happy.

 “I’m Mr. Park, I’ll be your teacher for this exam.” As if to serve as a reminder, something caught in his throat and he smothered a small bout of coughs into his arm. “Please excuse my voice, I’ve been a little under the weather.”

It didn’t take long before a few voices rose up, which was not surprising considering majority of the class had probably never seen him before. it had become blatantly obvious that most of the students had wanted to spend much more attention on their paper. He didn’t blame them, anyone would want to be distracted from exams and he usually wouldn’t mind, he loved to gossip and get to know the students and they always seemed to be as interested in him as he was in what they were like, but even with the amount of lozenges he’d sucked on that morning already, his voice was definitely going to give out if he spoke for long.

 “What do you teach Sir?”

“You look so young.”

“Mr. Park! What are you doing here?”

“Are you new?”

“What type of Hybrid are you?”

 Jimin looked to students who had spoken up. Most dressed or styled slightly different from the standard uniform, clearly these were the usual extrovert favourites. He tried to ignore the more intrusive questions and focus more on the ones of innocent curiosity. A wide grin split across his face and his sight narrowed as he recognised one girl that he taught in modern contemporary. Jimin pressed his square framed glasses further up his nose, his tail flicking as the girl waved her arm wildly from the back of the class.

 “Sana? Oh, it’s weird seeing you out of class.” Jimin chuckled lightly, giving a small wave in return. “Most of you probably won’t know me, but I’ve been a part of the dance faculty for I think about three years now. I usually only interacted in the other art departments during these times, but this year the school thought it would be better to shift things around a bit. I think I only know Sana… oh wait, Soobin’s here too. Wow, it feels like forever since I’ve seen you two…” His chest warmed with the pleasure of seeing at least some of his kids.

 “Sir, what are you doing back?” Soobin grinned and leant forward from when he sat on top of his friends desk. “Mr. Jung said that you probably wouldn’t be back for at least another week.”

 “Not quite.” Jimin corrected, moving closer to his student. “It’s just not as heavy a work-load as usual. Are you ready for your exams? And you Sana? I feel so bad for not being there in your final sessions.”

 “I think we’re both glad that you rested rather than pushed to be there with us.” Sana grinned, packing away her English textbooks. “I haven’t done mine yet but Soobin had his exam yesterday.”

Jimin’s eyes shot to the boy who merely shrugged, although the bright flash in the fae boys eyes led Jimin to believe he did better than he wanted to portray. Which was good. Great, actually. His students were amazing.

 “Ahhh… why do I get the feeling that none of you did any real dancing while I was away… Anyway, don’t stress over it. Deep breathes and smooth lines. It’s nothing you haven’t done before.” Jimin countered to Sana before stepping back to address the class once again, coughing into his arm again – slightly harsher this time. He answered and entertained a few more questions from the students that he didn’t know before finally calling it. “Okay, we should probably start soon. May everyone please start packing away any studying material. And is everyone present for this exam?”

 “Mr. Park, Sir.” A trio of girls, each with unique traits that led him to believe they were all either warlocks or fae, waved to him from the side of the class closest to the wall of windows.

 “Yes?”

 “So, you’re a dancer, Mr. Park? Can you show us something?” The one with golden eyes smirked and Jimin’s chest tightened, knowing that her suggestive tone wasn’t one of humour or general curiosity. Kids. They were kids.

 “I am, but we have more important things.” He chose to ignore the low whining that erupted from them. “Clear your desks please, you don’t seem to be going over notes anyway. I am assuming that everyone is here, which means we are going to begin.”

   He returned to the desk without glancing at the girls again. The session had officially started.

Once desks were clear he began to hand out transcripts, only letting them turn through the pages once each student had one. It was a bit of a struggle, with how hoarse his voice was quickly becoming – given that he hadn’t needed to use it as much in the past few days as he was now, but he managed to read through the paper with them to make sure there were no immediate errors then set them forth on the 3-hour paper. Even though it made him drowsy he snuck a few pills in after he stifled a sneeze into his wrist. He wanted to try keep any and all symptoms to a minimum as to not distract anyone, but it was difficult when the class only had the scribbling sound of pens on paper to fill it with noise.

He sipped the tea from his flask that he was certain Yoongi had spiked with some type of herbal energy booster before Jimin had left that morning. The hybrid couldn’t help the wholesome warmth that ran through him at the thought of the worrisome warlock. Despite Yoongi being powerful and often intimidating to those who didn’t know him, Jimin knew that the elder was in-fact a big softy that was usually too shy to address things that  stressed him out. Especially if it was about the people he cared for. Instead he was prone to small actions that he thought would help lift any burdens or stressors, for both him and whoever he helped – in this case, Jimin. Yoongi hadn’t even wanted him to start at the school again yet, even for short hours, but after the hybrid had spoken some sense into him – that it was Jimin’s job and everyone, including Yoongi himself, had  worked while sick at some point – Yoongi eventually caved.

Although that didn’t stop him from being a bit clingier than usual, and definitely didn’t stop him from wrapping Jimin entirely in the Warlocks clothes so that his scent was with him all day. Not that Jimin minded being completed drenched in the elders scent and the clothes that were just a bit too big for him always made him feel warm and comforted. The last week that Jimin had spent at home with his boyfriend had been amazing, even if he had been a miserable mess for most of it.

Jimin had just finished firing off emails to the other dance staff members about how everything was going with the dance exams and if there are still students looking for last minute help when he felt the sad realisation that his med’s had been easing off. He hadn’t brought enough for a second dose and he could already feel his nose starting to run. The exam was almost over, just another hour or so and then he was free to be a mess again. But that wasn’t what his body had in mind.

He’inxshew… hih..Hieshxngt hXNGst..

 Damn it.

Jimin sniffed and wiped at his nose with a tissue. Thankfully he had thought to bring quite a few of the tissue travel packs with him, Yoongi had tried to slip an entire box of Kleenex into Jimin’s bag but the hybrid found that to be a bit excessive. His tail curled around his waist as he felt the gazes of a few of the students that were already finished or were checking through their work, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He sniffed repeatedly, trying to be as soft and quiet as possible but it only seemed to make matters worse as he snapped forward with another sneeze that he caught by pinching at his nose. Stifling was a bit painful, especially with how congested he had been, but he would bear with it.

He stifled four more before he had to come to terms with the fact that he could not try to sniffle to keep it at bay anymore. So he claimed fresh tissues to blow his nose, wincing and sending apologetic eyes to the students at the wet gurgling sound that filled the room. Jimin’s face was heated and he swallowed hard trying to work past his embarrassment. The students probably didn’t even care that much. But he still felt like the floor should open to let him fall through it.

He perked as a hand shot up, the student mouthing for more paper. Jimin threw away his tissues, doing his best to ignore how gross he was momentarily felt, and after a quick squirt his trusty hand sanitiser that Jin made him carry,  he was up and handing out pages. Taking that moment of already being up to slowly walk around and check if anyone else needing anything from him. He tried not to linger too much when he noticed Soobin gnawing at his bottom lip. A quick glance and Jimin could tell that the boy was struggling with understanding some of the things being asked of him and he didn’t want to add any extra pressure of being hovered over. Clearly the boy was unfortunately – in this case - closer inclined to the creative arts than he was to general studies.

 “Si-Sir?”

 Jimin followed the soft whisper to a thin, pale dog hybrid who looked anxious just to have to look Jimin in the eye. Jimin cleared his throat to try get rid of the insistent itch that seemed to plague him and leant down so that the boy wouldn’t have to look up at him when he spoke. It wasn’t often that someone reacted intimidated by Jimin, so he was left a bit unsure. The few handfuls of times that he could remember being anything close to scary were strictly associated with his dancers or the few times he got into arguments with his friends, but usually everyone saw him as a soft and gentle hybrid that they could either try to walk all over or have pleasant easy conversations with. No real threat.

Jimin rested his hand on the edge of the desk to steady himself, then silently inclined his head to indicate that the boy could continue.

 “I-I don’t feel.. feel well.”

 Jimin gently rested a hand on the boys back only to frown at how sharp the hybrid’s bones were beneath his clothing. “What do you mean? Are you stressed? Sick? Do you feel nauseous?”

The boy merely nodded and swallowed loudly, sinking further away from Jimin.

 “Do you want to go to the nurse?” he asked softly. Looking more closely at the boys’ face, his oddly sharp facial structure and sunken cheeks. He had originally seen the bruises under the boys eyes as a part of the exam season stress but maybe there was something else happening.. When he got the nod of approval Jimin set his hand on the boys exam paper. “Do you want to keep this for now, or should I take it?”

 “Take it.”  

 Okay then. Jimin stood up, slipping the exam paper from the students desk, and bringing it back to his station, making note of the foreign name, ‘Felix’, filled in at the top right corner. Then he moved to the intercom attached to the wall behind his desk chair and held the button that connected him to the head office. “Hi, could we please have someone come to room 48? I need a student to be taken to the nurses office.”

A garbled reply came back at him that he could only hope meant that someone would be sent soon. In the meantime, Jimin dug in his bag until he retrieved a sealed bottle of water. It wasn’t as cold as it had been when he had bought it, but it would do. He returned to the boy who had now buried his face into his hands, taking deep shaky breaths.

 “Felix… can you try taking some small sips of water for me?” Jimin knelt beside the desk once more, twisting off the cap of the bottle. “Just a few? When last did you eat or drink something?”

He didn’t get much of a response other than the hybrid lifting his head enough to look at the open water before shakily taking it from Jimin. He took the smallest of sips before just sitting there with his eyes tightly shut.

 “Okay.” Jimin rubbed Felix’s back and stood up again, coughing into his arm before letting out a restrained groan. “Everyone, you have 40 minutes left. If you’re finishing off or just sitting there, then go through your answers again and make sure you’ve read the questions carefully.”  

 It was almost ten minutes before Jimin heard a soft knock on the door.

Felix had been sitting with his hands pressed tightly against his eyes, leaning heavily on his elbows while taking stuttering breaths. Jimin had been hovering with concern, but there wasn’t anything he could really do to help. The dog hybrid pretty much shunned him every time he murmured a gentle question or soothing words.

Jimin left his spot next to the sick boy, giving a quick glance over the class to find that at least a third of them were watching him and not going over their work like he’d encouraged, but he called out a brief ‘half an hour left’ and moved to open the door.

 “Jimin?”

 “Jin.” Jimin let out a heavy breath, running a finger under his nose before leaning closer to the concerned elder. Silently thanking that their office employees had thought to call the school nurse directly and not some random other teacher to walk the boy to a better environment. “Hi, I’m not sure how sick this boy is, but he has a fever and I think he might be nauseous. He couldn’t tell me if it was from anxiety or something else so… He didn’t seem too keen on talking to me at all actually. I just gave him water.”

Jin nodded, wiping his hands on his jeans before stepping forward to move into the class. For a moment he looked like he wanted to question Jimin on something else but thought better of it.

 “Where are they?”

Jimin pointed him out and then stood back, trying his best to watch over the rest of the class and not interfere with Jin as he prompted a few words out of Felix – mostly about what he felt like and whether he was okay to walk - before helping him stand. The witch had to wrap an arm around the boys waist to kept him steady and they were forced to move at a slow pace, but Jin just murmured soft barely audible words of encouragement until they’d reached the door. Jimin lay a steadying hand on Jin’s arm before biting at his lip.

 “Do you need help getting back? I can ask the office to send another person..”

 “We’re fine Jimin.” Jin reassures, his hand rubbing gently at Felix’s side. “I know him, I’d rather just move slowly and not stress him out too much. You can come by in a bit if you’re worried, but I’ve got it.”

 Jimin let them go, closing the door softly behind them trying to ignore the tears that had sprung to Felix’s eyes as soon as the pair had left the room. Distracted, he gave a final slow walk through the rows of students. Most of them were finished now, some had lain down over their desks while others fiddled with their stationery. He gave a pleased nod to see that at least two students where carefully reading through their work and added to certain places, and then he passed Soobin. The boy had completely drawn over the back of his exam paper with dark detailed sketches that  couldn’t have been done quickly. Jimin winced at the thought of how the boys answers must look, and took it has a hint to sit the rest of the time at his desk where he sipped at the final bit of his now lukewarm tea.

He sent a few carefree texts to Yoongi, who had been complaining bitterly about having to stay at home for the day. Apparently he had tried to talk Namjoon into letting him work but the clumsy witch had threatened to jinx the elder if Yoongi came in to work. Jimin smiled at his boyfriend’s irritated messages, knowing that the warlock was probably still in bed despite him having his studio there if he really wanted to work.

He still felt a bit bad about getting Yoongi sick, but the warlock had thankfully always been a quick healer, so hopefully if he rested for a day or two then he would be fine. Jimin sent a final ‘see you in a bit! Love you!’ before he readied up the exam folder to retrieve the papers.

 He coughed once into his fist, pushing up his glasses instinctively afterwards, then gave a soft smile. “Okay guys, if anyone is still writing I’m going to need you to stop.”

*

   “Jin? You in here?” Jimin peeked into the small nurses office only to find it empty, ignoring how his voice had cracked. The desk had been pushed neatly to the side and had an open medical bag with some scattered medications on it but other than that and the locker off to the side that held Jin’s personal things, the room was impeccably clean. Although that shouldn’t surprise him, it was a nurses office. “Soekjin?”

 He heard a soft reply and then Jin appeared, ducking through the white curtain that basically blended into the wall. The sectioned off area for those that needed a bed to lay down in, if Jimin remembered correctly.

  “Yeah, hey.” Jin smiled and tugged at the collar of his shirt before collapsing into his chair with a sigh. “Sorry, I’ve been running everywhere.”

 “Mr. Popularity.” Jimin teased and entered properly into the room to lean against the second chair across from his friend. He flipped a small backpack up and dropped it onto the empty seat. “Felix left this. I didn’t want to leave it there in case there was something important inside. He can just fetch it from here whenever he’s back at school.”

 “He hasn’t left yet.” Jin let out a breath much heavier than before. His expression darker than what Jimin was used to seeing on him. “He stays in a foster home with a whole bunch of other kids, his guardians are always a bit preoccupied with the younger children. I think they like to think that the older kids can fend for themselves a lot better than what they actually can, but yeah. They were called, but his foster brother will probably be the one to fetch him after his classes for uni end.”

 Jimin frowned deeply. His chest ached in sympathy for the timid hybrid that had seemed close to passing out earlier. “Is he… okay?”

 “Mostly.” Jin shrugged, glancing back to the curtained area he had come through. “He threw up a few times and put up more of a fight than I thought possible when I tried to get him to drink a potion. I had to resort to just standard medicine, but it won’t be as effective.  Seems like a flu.”

 “I felt awful that I couldn’t really help earlier.” Jimin admitted with a small sniff, rubbing at the tip of his nose swiftly. “He seemed scared to tell me anything, but I don’t know… maybe he just really wasn’t feeling well.”

 Jin shook his head. “This isn’t his first foster home, he got moved around a lot. From his file and the times he’s spoken to me, he has a bit of a rocky history with cat hybrids – of course his experiences kind of dealt more with predatory breeds but I suppose he just kind of categorised.”

 Now Jimin felt worse. He bit at his lip and locked his eyes onto the curtain as if he would be able to see the boy through the material. Was he asleep, or was he listening? Jimin’s throat tightened at the thought of having scared the dog hybrid. He didn’t really like causing someone else unnecessary stress, especially if there was a history of something … what, abusive? Maybe?

 “I didn’t realise… Why was he sent to school if he wasn’t feeling well?”

 “Beats me. Probably didn’t say anything, he’s only really comfortable with a few people and I don’t think he expects to rely on his foster parents.” Jin says quietly. “He’s a good kid, though. Very funny and loud when he wants to be. He just needs to open up to others a bit more, stop feeling like a burden and maybe participate a bit more.”

 Jimin nodded, twisting at one of his rings. “It’s hard sometimes, I get that. If he ever wants to he’s more than welcome to come by the dance studio’s. We sometimes hold after school classes for those that are curious or need extra practices. It might be a bit late to switch to it as a subject, but I’m willing to teach him a few things when he’s feeling better, maybe it will help in terms of meeting new people. Or I can ask Hobi if he can teach him a few things if he’ll feel more comfortable with a human teacher.”    

 “I’ll let him know.” Jin let out a huff of a laugh. “How are you? Feeling better about being back?”

 Jimin grinned widely, leaning heavily onto the chair. “Loads better, Yoongi helped me a lot. I’m still a bit stuffy –“

 “And your voice is super hoarse.” Jin said, then smiled teasingly as Jimin whined, his ears drooping a little.

 “Yeah, I know… But I really do feel better. I’m tired now but I’m happy to be back at work, I missed my kids. I got see two of my students during the exam, although I don’t think I have a lot of faith in the ones English skills. … its fine though.” Jimin straightened up and gave a dramatic wave of his hands. “He won’t need good marks in standard school, he’ll go far in dancing.”

 Jin pulled a face at Jimin’s words causing the younger to let out a small giggle.

“Maybe not fail the standard schooling, but you get what I mean. He’s going places whether he gets those marks or not.”

 “Sure, Minnie. Just don’t tell him that he doesn’t need to get good marks in other things.” Jin advised teasingly. “That’s not the best way to educate the next generation.”

 A gentle knock on the office door had Jimin jumping in fright, his ears drawn back, and fur raised, only to see two boys hovering outside. He vaguely recognised one from seeing him in hallways but the shorter one was unfamiliar, they both had soft fae-like features and wide innocent eyes. The taller was still dressed in the academies uniform while the other was dressed entirely in baggy black clothes that reminded Jimin of Yoongi. Although he doubted Yoongi would willingly get a lip and eyebrow piercing… maybe Jimin could talk him into it…

 “Hey, Chan. You got here fairly quickly.” Jin rose from his seat. “ I think he’s asleep right now, but I’ll wake him up and give him a final look over.”

 “Thank you so much Mr. Kim.” The dark one said, smiling brightly at Jin before nodding a greeting at Jimin.

He gave a soft ‘Hi’ before he pulled the light backpack off of the seat and handed it to the one Jin had addressed. “Here’s his bag.”

 ��Thank you.” Chan accepted it quickly and gratefully.

 “Aren’t you one of the dance teachers? On the other side of the school?” The student, who looked about the same age as Felix despite being taller than both Chan and Jimin. “I saw you in that theatre performance thing like three months ago… right?”

 Jimin nodded, assuming that the boy was talking about the fundraiser that the school did that was mostly a time for the students to see the staff make fools of themselves doing dances or skits – or in his and the rest of the performance arts staffs’ case, their talent and skills being flaunted in their natural habitats.

 “Yep, I’m a modern – contemporary instructor, but I help out in the hip hop sector when I’m needed.”

 The boys face lit up at knowing he was right. “You’re dancing is so cool. You were so graceful on stage, it looked really beautiful.”

Jimin smiled and felt his cheek warm. Jin had disappeared behind the curtain and Chan was watching Jimin with a small smile.

 “I remember now. I went and watched with him and some of our other brothers.” Chan added. “He kind of became obsessed with dance after that.”

 His cheeks burned and he let out a soft nervous cough into his fist. “That’s kind, thank you. Are you… all in the same Foster family as Felix?”

 Chan nodded before adding. “I don’t live there anymore, but I still spend time with some of them there, kind of become like real brothers, you know?”

 Jimin nodded, stilling feeling a bit off about thinking of them in a foster home. “Well I was just telling Jin that he was welcome to come by the studios if he ever felt interested in dance. As a way to open up a bit. I’m not sure if Felix would join if I taught him, but you’re welcome to join myself or Mr. Jung as well if you want – um..”

 “Hyunjin.” The boy said eagerly. “That’s so cool. I really want to, I wanted to take classes, but our guardians couldn’t pay for the extra fee.”

 Jimin bit back his grimace. It was unfortunate that students had to pay an extra amount for specialised classes but there wasn’t much he could do besides over informal schooling.

 “Well, we can organise once or twice a week to help you guys out. You actually look like the right build for a dancer, probably wont struggle too much…”

 Jin reappeared with the small dog hybrid following close behind, looking a bit steadier on his feet than before but still nowhere near healthy enough to be at school. Felix hesitated at the sight of him but didn’t stop for long before he move to sink into Chan’s arms. Jin spoke about some of the hybrids symptoms and what he’d need to take as well as giving a few things to watch out for and what to do if it got worse just in case their guardians got busy. Jimin moved back, letting the two boys move closer to their brother in the office. It was cute to see the three of them together, so different and yet there was a clear sense of family. Jimin sniffed only to regret it as a sharp piercing lemon scent that was no doubt coming from Felix flooded his senses. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t smelt it earlier, perhaps it was because Felix was feeling safe – in any case, Jimin blinked hard. He pressed a finger secretly to his nose, but it only seemed to aggravate the itch. Damn it, he had really hoped that he had finished with this earlier – he had blown his nose enough times after leaving the class, but apparently not.

‘He’ingxt’ah.. h’ingxsh..hih..hih’IGTSHiew…’ He cringed as he felt eyes land on him but couldn’t do anything else but keep his hand covering his face. ‘hih’itchshew… h’IShiew..’

 “Bless you, Jimin.”

 Jimin groaned and pulled a face, giving a soft and somewhat nervous sniffle. It seemed to be the end of it thankfully. Everyone was looking at him, but thankfully they didn’t seem to really care. “Thanks…”

 “Thought you were better, hmm?”

 “Jin,” Jimin pursed his lips and resisted the urge flick him. “Shut up. I’m fine now, just... lingering stuff.”

Jin hummed but Jimin knew he was only trying to be annoying.

 “okay well, I’ll head out then.” Jimin clapped his hands together awkwardly, no longer wanting to stay in the room in case he was going to start being sensitive to any more scents.

 “Tell Yoongi to feel better for me, Min.” Jin said as he wrote down the names of specific medications that would be the most long lasting for a hybrid.

Remembering the adorable sight he had left his boyfriend in that morning, Jimin spun around with a cheery gasp and wide glimmering eyes that had Jin laughing loudly, the other three in the room just blinking with bemusement at the suddenly change.

 “Get home Jimin! That wasn’t an invitation to start blabbering about your boyfriend. Actually, I’m very annoyed at you – It’s your fault that I didn’t get my extra Namjoon-day yesterday. I was devastated! Devastated Jimin!” Jin scolded him without even trying to suppress his smile.

 “You can sleep with your husband whenever you want Jin. No one is stopping you.” A pen smacked into his chest and Jimin bubbled with laughter as he danced out of range of the book that had come flying soon after the first projectile. “Don’t throw things at me!”

 “Yah! Don’t say inappropriate things in front of students, you bratty cat!”

 “They know what sex is!” Jimin argued playfully, coughing lightly as he caught the next book that came flying at his face. “So sensitive. Has it been that long?”

 “I should have never befriended you. I have to rethink my life choices.” Jin shook his head as he sent Felix an exasperated look. The dog hybrid was watching the interaction with wide, watery eyes.

 “Bye, Soekjin.” Jimin laughed, handing the book he had caught to Hyunjin. “I’ll let Yoongi know you care. If you want… I can ask him to make up something special to help-“

“GO HOME, BRAT!”

 Jimin pranced away, hearing the soft curses that Jin threw after him. Home. Despite how mixed his feelings were after finding out about Felix’s family life, he couldn’t help but be filled with a flood of warmth at the thought of his boyfriend waiting for him. Most likely still cuddled up into the warm nest Jimin had rearranged for him, unless the elder had decided to use energy to make food or something, but that seemed particularly doubtful after he had messaged Jimin about how lucid he felt and about the mountain of tissues creating a new city on the floor of their bedroom.

It was endearing… possibly contagious to anyone else that stepped fought into their house but somehow, very endearing.

#bts sickfic #bts fanfic #witch jin #nurse jin #hybrid jimin #dancer teacher jimin #alternate universe #stray kids #hybrid felix #I tossed some kpop idols into this mess just because I could #Its a mess #but I posted something #Its a little cute #I wanted caring Jimin #This is more plot than anything else i feel like

[imagine-lcorp]

We The Liars (One Shot)

Request

Okay I dont remember if I had requested it. My internet is bad. I just want angsty one where Lena finds out her girlfriend knew Kara is Supergirl and never told her. It becomes a bit of a mess between them. But it wasnt right for her to just tell Lena. (happy ending pls, I know you can wreck me on angst alone 😂)

A/N:I know I’m not very good at schedules but I’m still around!! Now, here’s another beautigul angsty request for u guys, I hope u enjoy it! and I hope this lives again to your expectations. Love y’all!!!!!

Lena Luthor x Fem!R//Word Count: 2,169 -------------------------------------------------------

They mocked you.

She could still hear her brother's voice.

Humiliated you.

His tongue distilling lies even in his final moments.

Betrayed you.

Every word punctuated in her mind like a blow from a sledgehammer.

Every.

It was bile.

Last.

It was poison.

One.

It was the truth Lena had been so blind to see.

Lena kept looking at the picture of you on her desk, trying to feel nothing as she drank the last of the scotch in her hand. She swallowed the hot woody liquid down and, in a sharp movement, smacked down the glass over the picture. She kept looking at the shattered frame, at your faces and smiles behind the broken glass. Lena had to let out a bitter chuckle as she thought how much that image resembled your relationship. Fake smiles, broken trust. A mirage now shattered by the truth you had been hiding.

Did you know? Of course, you did. Since when? Probably from the beginning. Was it all a scheme? A way to get closer to her? To keep an eye on her? Most certainly. The questions swirled around Lena's mind over and over and over since she had listened to her brother's last confession. They hadn't left her head, accompanying her while she tried to act as if everything was okay. As if she hadn't shot Lex, as if you hand't keep her in the dark about Kara and Supergirl, as if her so-called friends hadn't lied to her face all this time.

Did you even really love her?

That had been the question that bothered her the most. She hadn't been able to put it aside as she recalled every moment spent with you. Every look, every kiss and every touch, every tear and laugh, every word. All the things you had gone through couldn't just be a lie but, the more she though about it, the more she seemed to convince herself of the answer. Did you love her? No, she didn't think you did.

Your relationship had been nothing more than a means to protect Kara. Supergirl. The Girl of Steel and Great Champion of the Earth. From the hands of a Luthor.

Hold your friends close but your enemies closer.

What a fool she had been.

You entered her office as if summoned by her troubled thoughts, locking eyes on her and closing the door behind you, smiling sheepishly as you did. If that smile disarmed her every time before, now it was for her an undeniable sign of your deception. It made her heart shrink while she pushed her mind to go faster. You would not deceive her anymore.

"(Y/N), what are you doing here?" She asked. The tone of her voice never letting any of her internal turmoil show.

"I came to see if you weren't so busy." You approached her desk without losing your smile. "Jess let me in, so I could steal you for a moment or the rest of the evening if possible."

"Weren't you busy with your own home project? I didn't think you would finish it so fast." She leaned further in her chair, raising her chin towards you.

"I got some help." You reached the front of her desk. "Kara came by earlier and helped me with it. We finished it in no time."

"Kara uh? Of course. Always there to help, isn't she?" She saw you frown slightly.

If you hadn't noticed her somehow cold demeanor, now you did.

"Well, you know her."

She turned her chair towards the window at those words and looked at the city skyline, so she wouldn't have to look at you.

"Do I?" Lena couldn't hide the hurt in her words this time.

You were about to walk to her side when you finally noticed what was on her desk. The sight of the empty glass and broken picture made every muscle in your body tense.

It could have been nothing, a slip of the hand, an unfortunate accident. A broken frame meaning nothing but a broken frame. But you couldn't deny the strangeness of it all. Lena's attitude, her reluctance to look at you. You would have wanted to blame it on the alcohol, as it was obvious she had been drinking before you arrived. Even though Lena never drank more than a finger of her scotch and she knew how to hold her alcohol better than most.

Maybe it was the tension from the past days, as you knew they had been quite difficult for her. Having your older brother on the verge of death, only to find later that it was all a scam to give himself superpowers and then die anyway in a last attempt to destroy the Supers, was not something one could recover from so easily. Lena had told you the essentials about what had happened, but the Danvers sisters had filled you in about everything else, seeing as you had been worried to death about Lena and her lack of communication thereafter.

After Alex and Kara explained how things had gone down, it only reaffirmed your belief that a lot of trouble could have been avoided if they had just told Lena what was truly happening. You also didn't like having to keep things from Lena but after such incident, and considering that Kara felt herself responsible for Lex's death, none of you knew how she would react to the truth then. So you agreed to keep Kara's secret for a little longer, believing Kara would tell her everything soon enough.

So you made yourself believe to that maybe this was Lena still trying to come to terms with what she had to go through. That behind her pragmatic and stoic attitude, she wasn't taking things as good as she made it look. Maybe, this time, all she needed was a bit of comfort.

"Lena?" You rounded her desk with careful steps, trying to reach her, but then Lena spoke again and you knew it was none of it.

"All this time." You stopped as you heard her voice, low and harsh. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out?"

"Find out what?" The question coming out slowly from your mouth.

"That Kara has been helping you with her super speed? That she has been indeed helping people by flying around town? That all this time I've been friends with the greatest heroine of National City?" She chuckled and shook her head. "No, not friends."

"You know." You stood motionless, swallowing hard, as Lena turned her chair towards you.

"Yes, I know, (Y/N)." She rose from her seat. Her eyes looking at you with a contained rage, so dangerous it made you flinch and want to look away but you simply couldn't allow yourself to move.

This was what Kara had always feared and you could see now why. Your mind was racing, trying to think of something to say, whatever word that could ease Lena's anger but you knew better. It was useless to try and dodge the conversation, to deny it all and lie again. No, you couldn't keep doing that. Not anymore. Not to Lena.

"Lena, I'm s-"

"Save it." She grabbed her glass from the table and rushed past you to the bar before you could even finish muttering your apology. "I have had enough of those already."

You watched as she lifted a bottle and poured herself another drink. "When did she tell you?"

"Oh, so she was planning on telling me someday?"

"W-wait." You walked towards her, more confused than before. "If Kara didn't tell you then..."

"Does it matter? It wasn't Kara, or Alex, or any of your friends. Or you, anyway." She put the bottle down with a loud thud and grabbed her glass again. "You just knew and lied to me."

"That was never my intention." You tried.

"Your intention? And what was it, (Y/N)?" She turned back to you, taking a generous sip of her scotch and leaving it again at the table bar.

"Wasn't it to keep me from finding the truth? So I didn't know who was behind Supergirl and she could have one less thing to worry about? So she could keep an eye on me and if I turned to be the same as Lex she could stop me right away? Isn't that why you even approached me in the first place?"

"No, no, that's not it." You fumbled over the words. "Please, let me explain."

"Explain what?" Lena could already feel the tears threatening to come from her eyes. "That no matter what I told you about how much it hurt to have someone you love lie and betray you, you were doing exactly that with me."

"I never wanted to do that to you." You took a few unsure steps forward. "I wanted to tell you, may times but it wasn't my secret to tell. I couldn't. I had no right."

"But I had!" She snapped. Her voice filled with an ache and outrage so strong it made you take a step back. "I had the right to know."

"Lena, I know you-"

"No! Whatever you think you know, you don't!" She closed the distance between you. Each step making you feel smaller. "You used me and manipulated me, time after time. I helped you, protected you, proved you over and over that I wasn't like the rest of my family, trying to do better for our friends! For you! Don't you understand what you have done? What I have done?"

All her anger watered down as a couple of tears started to fall down from her eyes.

"God, what I wish I hadn't done." She closed her eyes.

"What do you mean?" You forced the words out, feeling the dread rise in your chest. "Lena, what did you do?"

She opened her eyes again. Her next words loud enough so you could hear. "I killed Lex."

"That's not..." You shook your head, as if the meaning of her words had nor registered in your brain. "Kara said he died after he fell with the Lexosuit. You told me the same. The fall killed him."

"I lied." She said. Realization washed upon you like a bucket of cold water and you felt each word after that like a strike to your guts. "He escaped, and I knew where he would go. I was waiting for him with my gun ready and I...I knew when I saw him that if he lived, you would never be safe. So I forced myself to pull the trigger. I shot my own brother and watched him die believing I was doing the right thing. All while his last words were about you. About how you mocked me, and humiliated and betrayed me."

"No, no." You repeated while looking at Lena, searching frantically for anything that could tell you maybe this was Lena trying to blame herself. But her eyes gave away nothing but the truth. "Lena."

"You lied to me!" She took a step back as you tried to reach her.

"Lena, please." You closed the distance between you, grabbing Lena by the shoulders. "Listen to me."

"Why? Why?" Her voice started to lose its strength as she repeated the question. "Why did you have to lie to me?"

Heartbreaking was a small word to describe what was happening at that moment. You had never seen Lena this way, so broken, and you were to blame for this too.

"Everything I said, everything I didn't, I was a fool for thinking I was too doing the right thing. I know we should have told you. I should have told you. If I had known what would happen I-" You felt your throat tighten. In protecting your friend, you had hurt Lena, who had always proved herself worthy, who had always done the impossible for you and who had lost yet another person she loved. All because you had said nothing. "I should have told you."

"Why does everyone I love lie to me?" Lena couldn't contain the tears anymore.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You repeated as you pulled her towards you. "Please, please, believe me. Please."

Lena let you pull your arms around her, with your body embracing her in a tight hug that almost seemed to hold her together and let herself cry like never before. She would have wanted to scream, to lash out, at you for lying to her, at your friends for keeping it all a secret, at her brother for using the truth to hurt her.

There was so much she didn't know yet but she decided to find all the answers to all the questions she had. She would know the truth and then, she thought, she could think of what to do next. And then, one question pushed through her mind.

Did you love her?

As you keep holding her, so close she imagined you would merge, Lena wanted to believe you did.

Because how could that be a lie?

#lena luthor imagine #lena luthor imagines #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor x female reader #lena luthor x you #lena x reader #lena x you #Female reader #fem!reader #fem reader #one shot #request #we the liars #angst #angst with a hopeful ending #?

[calumrose]

A Second Goodnight || L.H

A//N: I finished this I can’t even remember how long ago but I just never got around to posting it. I’ve been getting quite stuck with writing recently and I’ve definitely fallen out of the habit of it, but I’m trying to get back into it before life starts to get hectic. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little addition to my dad!sos universe with Luke, Elle and Kenzie! Let me know what you think, feedback and thoughts are always welcome and very much appreciated!!!

Word Count: 4.8k

“Baby girl, what do you think you’re doing up?” 

Elle’s head shot around to face her bedroom door, her eyes welcoming the sight of Luke standing there, blond curls framing his face due to his latest haircut, elbow resting against the doorframe as he watched the sight before him. She couldn’t hide the guilty expression that crept onto her face when their eyes met momentarily, her lips pouting ever so slightly as she looked down at her feet as they stretched out in front of her from where she was sitting on the floor. 

It was getting late — too late for Elle to be sitting on her bedroom floor, dolls spread out in front of her. She should have been in bed, happily snoozing away where Luke had placed her not even a few hours ago. But instead, she was distracted by holding her dolls upright, mumbling to herself as she made them interact and talk to one another in her own made-up language. 

Luke couldn’t stop the slightly amused chuckle that vibrated in his chest, pushing himself off the doorway and walking into his three-year-old’s bedroom. Elle naturally reached her hands up into the air, wiggling her fingers in Luke’s direction as she silently asked to be lifted and held. 

“Up we come,” Luke took easy hold of Elle, hauling her up into the air, causing her to release an excitable squeal before she was brought against his chest, her small arms wrapping around his neck while her legs wrapped as far around his torso as they could. She always naturally clung to Luke when he held her, her small impressionable fingertips gently moving back and forth against the skin at the back of his neck, feeling the small baby hairs that curled there, the soft strands smooth against her skin. 

She felt so relaxed against him, the way her grip was tight yet so loose as she held onto the fabric of his shirt, the way her heels dug into his ribs just enough to assure herself that she wouldn’t slip down him like he was a slide. Luke felt just as relaxed, feeling her chest rise and fall against his as she cuddled into him, her cheek pressing against his jaw as she looked over his shoulder. 

“You know you’re supposed to be in bed, honey,” Luke spoke softly, trying to keep his voice and smooth as a hope that it would help in the attempt to get her to go back to bed. He had already sung to her once tonight and quite frankly he wasn’t sure he could handle singing her song for her for a second or third time that night no matter how much she loved it. 

Who was he kidding? If she wanted it — he’d sing it. 

“But Millie wanted to play with Hannah, and she kept asking,” Elle began to quietly ramble about her dolls, head never lifting from Luke’s shoulder, “And— and she then asked if I would let her— “ 

She cut herself off with a yawn, turning so her face became hidden by her arm, scrunching up her face as she opened her mouth and released the tired breath. 

Luke felt her head drop a little, the weight falling against his shoulder as the pressure on his ribs from her legs slowly began to loosen. He could sense that sleep was slowly creeping up on her, her previous idea of staying up to play now coming back on her. “I think someone’s getting a bit tired, hm?” 

“But… But Millie and Hannah…”

Luke tried to hold back the amusement that threatened to break out in the form of a laugh at her little protest, resting a large hand on her back as he rubbed gentle circles against the fabric of her pyjamas, responding, “Millie and Hannah will still want to play tomorrow, but right now, baby, you need to go to bed because it’s way past your bedtime.” 

“But— “ 

“No buts, Elle, come on, let’s get you into bed.” Luke watched his footing as he maneuvered around the scattering of dolls that Elle had littered the floor with, making sure he didn’t stand on any or damage any of her other toys as he made his way back to her small bed in the corner of her room. 

Luke kept a steady hold of the sleepy toddler, pressing a kiss to the side of her head as he moved to stand above her bed, gently moving one of his arms so he could move her legs so he could place her down. He kept a hand on the back of her head — a natural instinct since he became a father, it only became even more primal when Kenzie made her appearance a few months prior, his hands acting of their own accord to make sure their heads were supported and protected at all times. 

Her curls fanned out against her patterned pillow case, her sleepy blue eyes slowly blinking up at him as he held himself up above her, a loving smile spread across his face as he stared down at the little girl who had his heart in the palm of her hand. 

“Now you stay in bed this time, okay?” Luke raised an eyebrow at her, a playful questioning glint in his eyes as he reached a hand down and pulled up her blanket, tucking her in for the second time that night. 

“But what if I can’t sleep?” Her question was accompanied by a pout, her brows slightly furrowed on her face as her little hands found a loose thread in her blanket, fingers beginning to fiddle with it as she watched herself twirl it around her left index finger. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep? Please dad?” 

“You want me to stay here until you fall asleep?” Luke basically repeated her question, voice soft and gentle in the ambient lighting of her bedroom. She still had her nightlight on in the corner, the warm glow just enough for them to make out each other in the night. “Okay, I suppose so, but you need to promise me that you’re gonna try and sleep, alright? Can you do that for me?” 

Elle didn’t give a verbal response but instead just gave a simple nod, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as her eyelids grew heavier with every blink. 

Luke adjusted himself so he knelt on the floor by the bed, resting a forearm against the sheets as he reached his other hand forward, using his fingers to brush a few stray curls out of Elle’s tired face. He found his hand going back to the same spot he removed the curls from once they were gone, allowing for his fingertips to gently glide against her soft temple, brushing back into her hair with a soft touch. He noted how Elle moved into it, her head turning up ever so slightly as if to somehow get closer to his hand, the soft graze of skin against her face soothing her. 

As much as Luke wasn’t exactly impressed to come into Elle’s room to find her awake, he wasn’t mad about the outcome of where he found himself to be right then — knelt down by his daughter’s bedside, soothing her to sleep. It was something he never tired of doing, enjoying the whole malarkey of taking her to bed and the attempts of getting her to settle down enough to fall asleep. He secretly loved it when she was a baby and he loved it even more now, especially when she asked if he would stay with her. 

There was never any reason why she wanted him to stay, not that Luke needed any to be convinced in the first place. It was always at the simplest of requests, Luke would find himself in her bedroom, sitting with her as she played, sitting with her as she tried to sleep, even gently singing to her as she drifted off like he had done since the day she was born. 

It was an instinct for him to sing to her, for him to gently start humming and mumbling the familiar words to the song that she had come to love and claim as her own since the beginning. He didn’t even realise he did it half of the time, too transfixed on the sight in front of him whenever he would unintentionally start the familiar tune in his head. 

And this time was no different. 

Luke hadn’t realised he had started humming, ocean coloured eyes focused on the gentle breaths that left Elle’s lips as she drifted off to sleep, the soft sound of his silent words providing her with a familiar nightly comfort that she hadn’t even had to ask for anymore and could still be assured that she would receive it. 

“And please don’t take my sunshine away…” Luke heard the tired mumble come from the three-year-old, his heart soaring at the sound of Elle’s sleepy voice as she sung the final words to the song she knew oh so well. 

She turned comfortably in her sleepy haze, moving closer to the edge of her bed, blanket still tucked securely around her. She moved her head up a little, tilting her chin towards Luke’s direction so her head tilted back, moving more into Luke’s hand that had moved to stroke her hair, the soft locks against his palm provided him with as much comfort as it did her. 

“Goodnight, baby,” Luke presses a soft kiss to her forehead, allowing for his lips to linger momentarily as he took a second to cherish that moment which he got to share with her. It was one to add to the collection, one he wished he could take a photograph of and add to the collection of memories that littered the hallway. 

And just like that Elle was out like a light, the blanket that lay over her rose and fell with every heavy sleep-induced breath she inhaled and exhaled.

Luke knew he had to move otherwise he would have stayed there the entire night, knowing fine well that he would comfortably have stayed knelt on the floor of Elle’s bedroom, eyes fixed on her as he watched her dream through the night. 

But Luke had to move. The crying baby down the hall wouldn’t soothe herself quite yet and Luke had told you to let him handle Kenzie during the night. He was only supposed to check in on the girls before joining you back downstairs, but it seemed like he was getting side-tracked.

His girls needed him. And that’s all that mattered. 

***

When one door closed another opened in its place, Luke leaving one bedroom only to enter another. The only difference in leaving the previous bedroom to entering the new one was the silence that was no longer there, the soft cry of the unsettled baby coming from the crib at the bottom of the bed tearing through the quietness of the late night.

Luke felt his heart ache at the sound, his face scrunching ever so slightly in grimace at the unpleasant sound, the shriek being painful for him to hear. Closing the door behind him, Luke made his way over to the wooden crib, the wooden floors cold beneath his bare feet as he took the few steps required for him to peer over the edge of the crib. The sight of the unhappy baby beneath him warmed his heart yet also made it twinge unpleasantly, the soft face of Kenzie always being a vision that made him smile except from when her face was bunched up, mouth drawn open to release an unhappy wail while her arms and legs kicked out in protest.

“Hey hey hey…” Luke kept his voice soft and quiet, not wanting to give the small girl a fright. One palm curled around the edge of the crib while the other reached down, knuckles grazing against her pyjama covered back in a soothing up and down motion, as Luke began his fatherly duties of attempting to comfort his youngest daughter. “What’s got you all upset, hm?”

Kenzie continued to wriggle in her crib, an uncomfortable whine escaping her small lips as she fought to get her legs free from the blanket that was gently laid over them. Her face scrunched up in distaste, nose bunching up as her eyes clenched shut, her gums becoming visible as her mouth opened to let the sound break free.

Luke hated hearing her cry, much like any parent did with their child, the sound going right through him like cutlery against a china plate. It was a sound he wanted to silence as quickly as possible, a sound he wanted to put to rest by providing as much comfort and assurance to little Kenzie as he could.

“Come on, sweet girl, up we go,” Luke reached down with both hands, keeping his voice just as quiet as before, not wanting to disrupt the semi-peaceful atmosphere that was lingering in the room. He took a gentle hold of Kenzie, sliding a hand beneath her so his hand was splayed against her back, while his other went behind her head to support her as he lifted her up and out of her crib, gently placing her against his chest so her face was resting against his neck.

When you had taken Kenzie up to bed previously, the bedroom was set up so it would soothe her; Luke’s bedside lamp was left turned on the lowest setting so it barely lit, giving some reassurance that Kenzie wasn’t left alone in complete darkness, a small night-light projector was set up on the dresser, aimed so the gentle cascade of moons as stars were scattered across the ceiling, accompanied by the gentle instrumental lullaby that the toy sung. Usually the combination worked to keep her asleep for the majority of the night, the only time she would wake up was usually for a night-feed, but tonight seemed to be the night that neither of his daughters were sleeping without a second visit from him.

Luke adjusted her in his arms, so she was resting comfortably against him, forehead against his neck with her cheek pressed against the top of his chest. Kenzie seemed to settle a little at the physical closeness she had gained, the familiar warmth of his body recognisable to her and bringing her as much of a comfort as it brought to Luke himself. His hand remained splayed across her back, thumb moving gently in a back and forth motion as Luke gently began to sway as he allowed for his feet to begin to walk around the room, smiling as the gentle weight of her head against his shoulder as he whispered to her, “There we go, is that better?”

If there was one-way Luke knew to get Kenzie to sleep when she was restless, it was to lull her sleep with motion. A simple movement worked wonders with the small blonde, the soothing motion of a moving car causing her eyelids to become heavy as the gentle hum of the engine rocked her to sleep with every car ride. But the motion that Luke conducted when he walked with her, a gentle sway in his step as he held her in his arms had nothing on the hum of a trusty engine, the warmth of his arms and chest against her mixed along with a soft whisper he hushed her with was the one true secret that worked almost every time.

He felt her small hand clutch onto the collar of his t-shirt, her grip a little loose in her tired state, the soft whines and whimpers continuing to slip past her lips although at a lesser volume than before.

“Shh… Shh…” Luke gently hushed her, lips gently pressing against the side of her head as he left a reassuring kiss against her soft skin, his palm beginning to glide up and down on her back. He glanced down at Kenzie from his position, noticing the missing splash of colour that could usually be found in her mouth, mentally cursing himself for not noticing at first that her favourite comfort was missing. She couldn’t sleep without it, always having the familiar lion-themed piece of rubber and plastic attached to her baby-grow on the little fabricated cord. Although it seemed that the cord had come undone during her slumber. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Have you lost your paci?”

Luke gently rocked her, swaying in place as he bent his knees slightly to try and create a soothing rhythm as he stood on the spot and looked back into her crib, searching for the familiar brightly coloured piece of rubber and plastic that Kenzie adored. He didn’t understand how such a small baby in such a limited space could lose something that she barely let go of throughout the day. Whenever she would suck on her pacifier, she held it like a vice between her lips, her gums gripping it with all the strength her small frame could muster if Luke or you even attempted to take it from her against her will.

She was only young, but boy, was she stubborn. I wonder where she got that from…

“Where did you put it, huh?” Luke quietly asked, directing the question towards the unhappy baby in his arms as if he would receive an answer. His eyes were focused on the discarded blanket, removing his hand from its place on Kenzie’s back so he could use the limb in the attempt to search for her favourite orange pacifier. Luke knew it wouldn’t be the secret to settling her, but it would certainly help.

Luke’s eyes searched the dimly lit crib, leaning ever so slightly forward so he could get a better look, keeping a steady and secure hold of Kenzie while his fingers lifted the blanket up as he gently tossed it to the other end of the crib. A flash of orange caught his attention, eyes looking to the far side of the crib, spotting the brightly coloured plastic of the pacifier which had somehow become stuck between the crib’s cushion and the wooden frame. He wasn’t sure how it exactly got there, but with the amount of moving he knew Kenzie to do throughout the night, he knew he shouldn’t have been completely surprised about where it ended up.

“Would you look at what I found,” Luke added a bit of hushed excitement to his voice, reaching forward and grasping hold of the pacifier as he plucked it free from the tight space it was trapped in. He checked it over, making sure it wasn’t broken or damaged, assuring there were no cracks in the plastic for Kenzie to hurt herself with. You called him overcautious and overprotective, but you knew he was only looking out for his girls; the thought of one of them hurting themselves ultimately being his worst nightmare. Once he deemed that it was fine, he cleaned it off, ridding the rubber nub of any dirt or fluff before he lifted it to Kenzie’s face, a smile creasing his lips as he chuckled and gently rubbed the smooth material against her lips to encourage her to take it. “Here you go, baby.”

Kenzie blinked tiredly, her eyes spotting the familiar bright orange object in Luke’s hand. Luke watched as she clung onto his shirt, lips separating as she leaned forward slightly, head moving closer to where Luke was holding the pacifier between his thumb and index finger as she took the rubber between her lips before resting her head back against Luke’s shoulder. Her hand still gripped his shirt’s collar, cheek pressing against him as she nuzzled in, her soft skin sliding against the fabric of his shirt as she tried to keep as close as possible, the gentle graze of the fabric against her skin almost doing its own job of lulling her to sleep.

Kenzie’s soft whines and whimpers seemed to quieten down even more, the sound becoming muffled from behind the pacifier that was back in its rightful place, her cheeks moving ever so slightly as she sucked on the soft piece of rubber.

His hand found its place on Kenzie’s back almost instantly, resuming its previous gliding motion as if it were second nature to him. Luke had always been told his hands were a gift, that they were instruments in themselves that could strike the most beautiful sound when given the right tools, and he knew that to be true. But, there was nothing like the way his hands naturally found their position when holding his children, the way his fingers stretched, the way his palms curved, the way his hands manoeuvred so the young girls felt secure and comfortable when they were in his arms. He was forever grateful for the work his hands created and the talent he had been given, but the way he felt when he got to hold Kenzie like he did in that moment… There was nothing that came close.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” Luke spoke in a hushed whisper, resuming his gentle swaying motion from before as he stepped away from the crib and allowed for his feet to absentmindedly wander around the room, to step where they wished and carry the two of them across the room while he tried to settle Kenzie enough to get her to fall back to sleep, “You just wanted your paci and a cuddle, hm?”

Kenzie seemed to relax against Luke in that moment, her weight falling against him as her face gently pressed into his neck as her breathing began to slow and even out. Luke felt her blonde curls tickle the sensitive skin of his neck when she rubbed her cheek against him, her skin half rubbing against the fabric of his t-shirt and brushing against the skin above the collar, attempting to get comfortable. He swore he felt his heart ache when he heard the content little sigh slip out, the light-hearted sound containing just enough volume to cause a tear to spring to his eye at the simple realisation of contentment the young baby felt against him.

With one hand remaining splayed across her back, the tip of his thumb brushing the nape of her delicate neck with every slow swipe, Luke slowly continued to circle the room, humming quietly under his breath. Luke barely heard the creak of the bedroom door open, his head turning to glance over his right shoulder, Kenzie drifting off against his left, his eyes meeting yours as you popped your head through the gap, smiling at the sight in front of you.

Luke couldn’t hold back the smile on his face at the sight of you slipping in through the open door, his lips puckering out slightly as he whispered a quiet “shh” to you, the sound barely counting as audible, before continuing his gentle sway as he padded around the room in the attempt to lull the sweet baby to sleep. 

It was after a few more minutes, Luke made his way back over to the crib, gently rearranging his hold on Kenzie so he could lower her down. He kept a hand on the back of her head, leaning forward with his shoulder so he had a better hold of the sleeping child, allowing for her weight to fall against his arms, turning her slightly so her back was resting against his forearm. He kept a hand beneath her body, fingers gently tapping a comforting rhythm on her back with a featherlight touch as he continued to lower her back down into the crib.

“Shh…shh…shh…” Luke hushed her uncomfortable whimpers, the gentle noise he released breezing through the air as it comforted Kenzie and her whines slowly settled back down as she wriggled a little against the fabric of the cushion in her crib. Luke slowly and carefully removed his hands from beneath her, sliding the hand that previously rested under her back, fingertips sliding over her side to rest delicately on her stomach, slowly coming together as if they were almost meeting to form a fist but instead continuing to provide Kenzie with a comforting touch to keep her asleep. With his other hand Luke reached over with a free hand to grab her blanket again before placing it over her so she was protected from the cold draft he knew to sneak in through the night. “There we go, sweetheart, all nice and cosy.”

Luke hadn’t noticed you make your way over to him, your steps against the floor were practically silent, your presence only becoming clear to him when he felt an arm slip around his waist. The gentle squeeze you gave as you leaned into him was warm, the embrace being one he always looked forward to whenever you were around one another, it almost being guaranteed when you had the chance to hold one another without a toddler or a baby in between the two of you. 

“Night night, baby.” Luke spoke in the softest whisper, lifting his hand, pressing his index and middle finger to his pouting lips before lowering the limb back down. With the gentlest of touches, he allowed for the pads of his fingers to rest against Kenzie’s forehead, as if transferring the kiss from his lips to her skin through his hand. It was a soft gesture he had started doing for her as of late, the loving way of saying a final goodnight before he would carry himself back through the house where he could unwind. 

Elle had her sunshine song and Kenzie had her special goodnight kiss, both personal moments to be shared with Luke when he took them each to bed, a silent promise to them that he was there and he would always be there to give them those comforts. 

Luke found himself leaning against Kenzie’s crib just that little bit longer, gaze never breaking from the slumbering baby as she lay on her back, head tilted in Luke’s direction, with one hand out to her side while the other clutched onto the soft blanket that was splayed over her. He watched as the pacifier in her mouth slowly bobbed up and down, silently counting every small suck gave and timed them with her breaths, smiling to himself at the realisation of what he was doing. 

“I’ve always said you have magic hands, Luke,” You kept your voice low, as if any sound louder than that of a pin dropping would wake Kenzie. You rested your head on Luke’s shoulder, your arm remaining loosely wrapped around his waist, your other hand coming to rest against his bicep in front of you. You pressed a kiss to his shirt-covered shoulder, smiling to yourself as you inhaled the remnants of his cologne that still lingered on his clothes. “The same trick worked when she was nothing more than a bump and now look at her.”

The natural smile that spread across Luke’s face at your words was a knowing one, one that was also so full of love. He knew you were right, it seemed as though his touch was something to be considered magic. It was with the simplest of touches, he could make the girls calm down, make them fall asleep, he could soothe them in any case. You had always told him that his hands were gifted, especially when it came to your girls, that there was something that they provided which no one else could match, that they provided a warm comfort that came from him and him only. 

“I’m kind of hoping it’ll always work,” Luke tilted his head so it rested lightly against yours, turning ever so slightly so he could press a soft kiss to your hairline in the process. You knew he enjoyed having his own little knacks that had become nightly routine for his girls, understanding the sense of need and purpose that they provided Luke with. As long as the song and kiss worked, Luke and you both were assured that the girls would always ask for them, that they would always want them. “Hopefully, my girls don’t get sick of me too soon.” 

“Trust me, babe, I highly doubt that’s going to happen anytime soon,” You chuckled, squeezing his bicep slightly, the pressure your fingers provided was light, “You are their entire world, their everything, they love you more than they love anything in this world.” 

Luke knew you were right. It was a loving moment they shared every night, a moment so small yet so big that it meant the world to Luke as well as the little girls whom he shared it with. 

It was an individual moment he got to share with each daughter and that in itself was the greatest gift Luke could have.

---

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[pan-of-light]

Invasion

[Originally posted on AO3]

 Riddle was sure he hated it when Floyd’s attention was on him. Nothing good ever followed, and the worst part was that Floyd was so volatile there’s no way for Riddle to even predict what might happen until he’s as red as a rose and shouting unbecomingly at the other. Actually, no, that wasn’t quite right. There was something even worse than being in Floyd’s line of sight: It was being completely ignored.

 Of course, with someone as moody as him there had always been moments of peace and disinterest, but this had been over a week! After almost two years dealing with that giant shadow behind him, threatening to wrap around him and devour him entirely, to go so long without even a “Goldfishie!” echoing behind him was unthinkable. Riddle didn’t believe Floyd could be planning to do something to him, specifically, but every day that passed when their paths crossed and he didn’t even receive a glance seemed to add to the weight in his chest, to the point it became unbearable.

 He tried not to think about him. The school had been busy enough as it is, from everything like the normal hassles of a new year to Overblot going to “rare condition few had even heard about” to nearly half a dozen cases in as many months. Everyone was busy, and as Azul’s right hand man, Floyd should be, too. Even though Riddle constantly saw him loitering around and doing weird things, well, Azul’s success even after his contracts were destroyed proved the man had a method to his usage of the Leech siblings. He had to, right?

 Shaking his head, Riddle tried to focus on something else. Summer was approaching, and with it, swimming exercises constantly in PE. Last year he'd done… Acceptably enough, but he had to try harder to set a better example this year. Of course, thinking about swimming reminded him of mermen, but Floyd was not going to magically appear before him, and his formal request to access the pool to practice before classes wasn’t going to magically write himself. And Riddle could only force one of those things to happen.

 Floyd would never follow his will, anyway. Same grade, different dorms, Riddle had nothing over him, and even if he did, he doubted any of it would work. Floyd was someone who didn’t go with the flow, seeming instead to be outside of it entirely, reaching in to mess with his head and make his stomach do nervous flips before retreating back into his own little world, where Riddle could never reach.

 Being around Floyd felt a lot like drowning in feelings Riddle wasn’t familiar with and didn’t know if he wanted to be. And he hated not knowing himself.

--------

 Professor Vargas accepted Riddle’s paperwork with ease, praising him for demonstrating the extra initiative to tone his muscles. After paperwork came the key, the empty locker room before morning classes, and finally, the pool.

 It was a large, heated indoor pool, filled with mineral water to minimize chlorine exposure to non-human students, and maintained clean and warm thanks to volunteers in the sports clubs, solar panels, and a small but well applied use of magic every now and then. Despite the best efforts of exterior illumination, Riddle still couldn’t see much when he looked down, staring over the edge into the pool. There was no reason to be scared. He’d been here several times the past year for class. The fact that the early hour left the water looking like a polished black mirror, only giving back his own stare and nothing else was unsettling, but could easily be explained by the time.

 The water was calm, until it wasn’t. Riddle was supposed to be alone. He thought he was alone. But as he’d been distracted by his own contemplation, something cold and strong shot up from the water, grabbing his ankles in a vice grip and dragging him in.

 Riddle barely had time to hold his breath, and it didn’t matter much. The water wasn’t heated at the moment, and the sudden cold knocked what little air he’d managed to hold onto out of him as he was dragged all the way down, until he could feel his feet touch the bottom of the deep end of the pool. And as suddenly as he was grabbed, he was free, kicking himself up to the surface to breathe.

 He turned his head around frantically, searching for whatever had grabbed him, cursing his carelessness. His pen was back in the lockers, and while he could use magic without it, in an unfamiliar environment under attack by an unknown assailant he was at a disadvantage. Especially when he’d been dragged to a part of the pool he couldn’t stand in, having to bob awkwardly to avoid going under. He couldn’t even begin to imagine who it could be. Even after he began making amends, Riddle was under no impression he’d gotten his dorm mates, or the rest of the school, to forgive him. There probably wasn’t a single person in the school he could think of that he hadn’t exploded at or threatened, and generally just driven away. A few Unbirthday Parties didn’t make up for his time as a tyrant. He knew that better than everyone else.

 But without proper footing and lighting, he was little more than a sitting duck in the water. He’d see a ripple here, a bubble there, but whatever caused them was always nowhere near the area by the time his eyes could focus on it. By the time the panic and cold left his brain enough so he could think clearly, so that he could realize how his attacker could stay underwater for so long, it was too late, and the great wave formed by Floyd emerging behind him and leaping onto him pushed him underwater again.

 Bubbles sprang around him as Floyd tried to say something that Riddle couldn’t hear, even though Floyd’s mouth was so dangerously close to his ear, even though he was wrapped tightly in a hug against the merman’s smooth skin. Every fear and worry he’d felt the past few minutes vanished, being replaced by a familiar irritation. He was angry, of course. Angry at how being treated like this was making him smile, like all was right in the world.

 And a bit angry he couldn’t breathe. He tried elbowing Floyd to get let go, and while his attempt was a valiant failure, Floyd got the point and released him, surfacing right next to him with the same dopey grin he always had when it was Time To Bother Riddle And Fill His Stomach With Butterflies. Angry butterflies, Riddle’d insist, if he ever tried admitting it out loud. (He would not).

 “F-Floyd!” Riddle sputtered, ungracefully, “What are you doing here?!”

 (Riddle thought this was a valid question. Considering Floyd’s attendance records, he hadn’t even been totally sure the other could be awake at this hour).

 “Ehh? But I should be asking you that, Goldfishie~ Me and Jade always use the pool since the leg potion gets uncomfortable at times. You’re the intruder here, you know?”

 Shit, Jade. Riddle had been so caught up in Floyd’s unusual behavior that Jade’s usual behavior had slipped his mind entirely, and he started looking around for the less openly evil twin, earning a laugh from Floyd.

 “Jade’s busy helping Azul this week. I was thinking it was going to be totally boring to swim alone, but then you showed up, Goldfishie~! Isn’t this great?”

 This was the worst possible situation. At least warm water would have given Riddle as excuse for his outrageous blushes, but of course someone used to living under the sea would have turned off the heaters. He was tempted to just call Cater to come paint him the proper color for “still in cold water”, honestly.

 “Not great at all,” Riddle tried to maintain his composure, and he didn’t even need to look at Floyd’s smug grin to know he was failing. “I came here to practice swimming, and I won’t have you bother me.”

 Floyd muttered a lame okay as Riddle swam to the edge of the pool, grabbed the corners to stabilize himself and kick off, trying to at least start one lap down the pool. It shouldn’t have surprised him that when he opened his eyes to make sure he wasn’t veering off his lane that Floyd was right below him, matching his pace easily and even giving him a little wave when he realized Riddle was looking, almost making him choke on pool water in frustration.

 It was a small miracle Riddle reached the other end, clutching the pool’s edge as Floyd popped up behind him like the world’s soggiest Jack-in-the-Box and crowded him against the wall. It felt kind of odd. Usually Riddle had to strain his neck to get a proper look at Floyd’s face, even in his dorm uniform, but in the pool like this, he could actually look straight into his mismatched eyes. Far too close for comfort. Or not close enough. He couldn’t tell.

 “You really need to swim more if you already can’t breathe just from that…” Floyd teased, poking Riddle’s cheek. It had nothing to do with swimming! It was just too much. Closeness. Nerves. Something he could never command or push away. No matter how little Riddle wanted, Floyd just gave him more and more.

 So Riddle decided to take more, interrupting whatever was coming out of Floyd’s mouth next with a kiss. He had to move from gabbing onto the pool's edge to Floyd's shoulder to not go under, but it just meant the kiss was even closer. It was even a small victory, the first time he managed to make Floyd stop and stay still, even if for a second before the other responded with more, pushing Riddle against the tiled wall and trapping him there with his larger frame, while his mouth opened just a bit, inviting and dangerous and completely willing. Riddle wasn't discouraged by the sharp teeth, even trying to show off his own with a bite to Floyd's lower lip, which was responded to in kind before the kiss progressed into a more 'proper' thing, with lips and tongue and just the tiniest taste of blood that neither of them really knew who came from and neither of them cared, too invested in taking in more of each other.

As small a thing as it was, Riddle considered it a loss when he had to pull away from the kiss first to breathe. Even if he could see Floyd cheating, keeping his neck underwater and feeling his gils move, it was a loss he didn't like. So he kissed back, again and again, letting Floyd aimlessly drift them around the pool as they slowly tried to explore each other. At one point he even found himself completely submerged, only able to breathe the air Floyd gave him, unable to hear or see anything else as the water muffled and hid away everything but the two of them. He felt a bit sad when that ended, as Floyd had gotten bored and tried to change the positions of their lips again and finally remembered Riddle couldn't breathe underwater unassisted.

 It was only when Riddle surfaced and saw the sun shining in from the skylights at the edge of the pool area that he realized how much time had passed. The wall clock told him he hadn’t missed any classes yet, but that yet was dangerously close to going away entirely. He let out a curse under his breath, trying to untangle himself from Floyd, who’d used his unfairly long tail to wrap around him so  thoroughly   it was a wonder Riddle hadn’t noticed how close they were before. Or maybe he’d just been too intoxicated in finally getting something from Floyd to care.

 Floyd, however, refused to stop squeezing him.

 “Let go, Floyd, we have class!”  

   “Ugh, don’t wanna.”

 Riddle was gonna strike that expression from his vocabulary someday. But first, he needed to find a way to regain use of his legs. And arms. His whole body would be preferable, actually.

 “I’ll cut you a deal, how does that sound? Let me go now, and after classes and club activities are over, you come by Heartslabyul and I’ll entertain you as long as you want.” thankfully, not an empty promise. He had no outstanding prefect duties to work at, he could do his homework while Floyd was at basketball, and if any troubles arised, well, Trey could handle it for a night. Part of him trying to change should include him getting some nights off to himself, after all.

 “Hmm….” Floyd seemed deep in thought for a while, before releasing Riddle entirely (and leaving him a bit disoriented without the giant merman holding him afloat), getting out of the pool with practiced ease as the potion he used to look human took effect again now that he was no longer submerged. Thankfully for Riddle’s heart, it also came with pants. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he ended up staring at a stark naked Floyd right now.

 “I’ll hold you to that, Goldfishie~” and with that, Floyd was gone, leaving Riddle alone in the cold pool. The temperature did wonders to rapidly ice his teenage libido as he considered the consequences of the deal he’d proposed Floyd. Idly, he traced the bite marks on his lips with his tongue. Those consequences would surely be worth it.

#twisted wonderland #florid #floyd leech #riddle rosehearts #fanfic by pan #queue

[writingchalamet]

Just On Set

squishybebe asked:

Hii, I love your last imagine it was great thank youu...  Could you do another imagine where you're a singer and Timothee is playing your love interest in your music video, so you guys have to film some cute and intimate scenes...

A/N: I’m using the song ‘Kiss it better’ by Rihanna. This turned out a bit steamier than what I originally planned 💖 anyway stay safe and have a good day and thank you for 500 followers!!

It was the second day of filming for your latest music video, you had spent the day yesterday filming your close ups and glamour shots but today you were to be joined by Timothée Chalamet, who would be playing your love interest in the video. You were supprised he agreed to do the project, music videos not really being his fortes, however you had met him a few months prior at an award ceremony after party, and after gushing about how incredibly talented you thought he was for a good ten minutes you expressed how much you’d love for him to be in one of your videos. He somehow agreed and here you are.

Your hands fumbled around in your lap shaking slightly while you sat in your hair and makeup chair, the anticipation of Timothée’s arrival was making you a nervous wreck. “Would you calm down! You’re gonna be fine!” Your makeup artist Kiera insisted, taking a brush to your lips touching them up.

“I know but it’s just nerve wracking, he’s this big talented actor who I happened to run my mouth off to and now he’s coming here to play all lovey dovey with me! And I’m no actor what if he thinks I’m shit and leaves!” An exasperated sigh fell from your lips, with a huff you sat back in your chair throwing a strop in a toddler esque manner.

“Yeah she’s just through here” you hear faintly behind the door before there’s a sudden knock on it. You pull your robe closer around your body, “come in!” You yell, hearing the hinges creak lightly as the door slowly opened. It revealed your publicist and none other than Timothée standing in the door frame, hair styled away from his face in sweeping waves. He gives you a soft smile. “Hello sorry to barge in while you’re getting ready, but I’m really looking forwards to working with you today” he steps forward, extending his hand to you to shake.

You take his hand, his grip was firm but friendly. “It’s a pleasure really, I’m looking forwards to it” Keira teases your hair one final time “there we go you’re done” you lean forwards in your chair and look in the mirror, “You look lovely” Timothée smiles from his lingering stance behind you. “Thank you” you smiled back. “Right well I better go and get dressed and I’ll see you on set” Timmy lenses you a final smile before stepping outside of the room. You rose from your seated position and dropped your robe from your shoulders leaving you in your ‘costume’ for your first shots of the day.

You walk through the halls of the humongous house to the first set location of the day, in the dining hall. Your heals clicking along the hard wood floors caught the attention of Timothée as well as the director as you stepped inside of the room. “My beautiful angel, you look gorgeous, are you ready to begin!” Paolo the director yells across the room striding towards you taking your face into his hands, you had worked with him many times and become very close friends over the years. Your eyes looked in Timothée’s direction and softened from your nervous stance slightly. “I’m ready if you are” You let out a soft giggle. 

Getting into position, you were both seated at opposite ends of a twelve seated dining table, a nice contrast to how close you would become later on throughout the shoot. The producers and runners fixed up a few things in the shot before the cameras started filming. “Ready! Roll music...Action!” A couple of lines of the ‘song begin blasting out from the speakers behind the director. 

 Been waiting on that sunshine boy I think I need that back, can’t do it like that no one else gonna get it like that.

You sat across from each other, two camera men standing by each of your sides, catching each of your nuances. Your head lifted and you directed your eye-line towards Timothée, his eyes meeting yours at the same time. You tilted your head the camera moving forward to catch your actions more closely. Timothée’s hands lay down on the table before his chair screeches, pushing it back, so he can move into a standing postition. Your takes a more wide angle shot as you sit up straighter in your chair. Timothée straitens his tie, the camera getting a close up shot of his hands working on the material around his neck. ‘CUT’ The music stops rolling and the camera men roll their cameras back into the original positions.

“That was beautiful, you both look sexy and fierce I love it!” Paolo shouts from across the hall. You giggle shaking your head you look up and see Timothée sharing a laugh also. “Are we ready to move on or do you want to refilm anything darling?” His precocious mannerisms always made him so much easier to work with, “no I think we got it!”

So I argue, you yell, but you take me back, Who cares when it feels like crack, boy you know that you always do it right

“Action!” The music blares through the speakers once again, and the camera pans out on Timothée striding towards you, you casually play with one of the diamonds falling from your ear, a smirk placed on your face. Timothée reaches you, standing behind your chair, one of the camera men moves to the other end of the table where Timothée once sat and the other stood next to you getting the close up. Timothée’s arms encased you, one travelling slowly down your body and the other moving around your neck and shoulders, he leaned down as if to whisper in your ear, leaving a kiss at the connecting part of your jawline. Your head rolled to the back of the chair. One arm lifted to caress his face whilst the other raised to hold the one around your chest. You both leaned in lips grazing, your eyes fluttered shut.

“CUT! Ugh I could cut the sexual tension in here with a knife! Jesus you two are hot!” His strong accent only made you laugh harder. You pulled away from each other, sitting up straight again in your chair, Timmy was leaning on the back of, you look up to him and give him a shy smile which he gladly returned.

“Right so your next shot in this location is the steamy make out session where you get to throw her around the room a little Timothée, okay, and then we’re done with this location! Okay, shall we take 5, get some air before the sex tape comenses okay darlings!” Paolo expresses every nuance with his hands flying all over the place and the over extended enunciated words. You nod towards him raising from your chair and walking towards the refreshments table for a bottle of water, Timothée follows persuit, opening a bottle and taking a big gulp.

“How are you finding it so far? Are you enjoying yourself or are we putting you off music videos completely?” You quiz the green eyes boy before you. He smiles brightly before nodding his head.

“I’m really enjoying myself, it’s a beautiful location, and Paola is hilarious and my scene partner isn’t horrible so what’s not to like” he jokes, you hit his arm jokingly shaking your head. “No in all seriousness, I was quite nervous coming into set today, I know that being in music videos can be seen as quite gimmicky, but I think that after people see what we’ve done here they’ll love it” your eyes light up and your heart feels like it’s skipped about ten beats.

“Okay darlings, time to rock and roll!” You whip your head round at the sudden boom of Paolo’s voice re-entering the room, and move back towards the table.

Man, fuck your pride, just take it on back, boy take it on back boy, take it back all night , just take it on back, take it on back

“Action”

Timothée’s arms come around under your bum lifting you into the dining table, you leaned back arms spreading out across the span of the table back making the perfect arch. Timothée leans forward placing kisses along your jawline and shoulders, the camera draws in close to your face capturing your mouth fall ajar and a gasp fall from your painted red lips . The camera followed in an extreme closeup shot as Timothée’s hands travelled down your heavily jewelled body down to your thighs, the second camera caught your head sharply falling back on the beat of the music, your movements becoming rhythmic.

“Cut! Okay let’s move to the doorway!” The music paused, Timothée lifted himself from your netheregions, offering his hands to you to help you down from the table.

You accepted and moved towards the doorway of the dining hall, “okay darlings are you alright for me to position you?” Paolo asked, you both nodded and allowed him to step in, “okay darling, if I can get you to just lean against the doorway with your back arched like this..” he moves you into place, your back arched, one arm delicately placed above your head. He moved one of your legs so it arched forwards. “And then Timothée darling, you slip yourself in hear, oh first take your suit jacket off, there we go. You place one hand behind her neck and the other around her waist, oh yes just like that, beautiful, and then one of your legs in between hers, so when you go to ‘slam’ her into the wall she’ll be balanced on your leg and can hold the stance. Beautiful darlings, ready!” He steps away from the frame.

“Action!”

Timothée did as instructed, pushing you back into the wall but raising his leg to keep you steady, the hand on your neck comes up to caress your check before he dives in, his lips touch your with such ferocious force you don’t know if you can keep up, it may have been the tension that had been building up between the two of you all day that had finally been released. Your lips moved against him like clockwork, finery and in perfect time with each other. His arms held a strong grip around you. His lips moved to lay kisses on your neck, your head spun backwards against the door frame, arm lifting to grip the solid wood above your head.

The camera came to a close up shot of your face just as your mouth fell agape, eyes fluttering shut. Timothée’s movements were rhythmic against the beat of the music blaring through the speakers. His head lifted once more and he placed his forehead softly against yours, and smiled gently.

“AND CUT! Oh beautiful! Darlings you are just breathtaking to watch!” You step away from each other, your assistant running over and wrapping you in your robe. You grab a bottle of water from the table beside you and take a large gulp. “Do you wanna have a look on the monitor at the shots?” Paolo’s eyes light up, proud of him and his teams work. You nod enthusiastically and move towards the monitors set up by Paolo’s chair, he presses play and you see part of your video finally coming to life for the first time and you’re in love. You have to admit you and Timothée work well together. Each of your movements compliments the other really well, and you both just look good together.

“It’s really beautiful Paolo, thank you!” You pull him into a side hug. “Right beautiful people, go and get ready for your next scene and I’ll see you in the gardens”

The flowers in the garden popped with colour, the grass a vibrant green that seemed to make the yellow in your dress stand out even more. You spot Timothée as you make your way through the gardens and travel over to him. He’d had his hair styled differently for the next shot, looking more slick. He looked handsome, you noticed how much the yellow complimented the green in his eyes. And how his hair styled away from his face somehow made his bone structure that more prominent.

“Are you ready to dance lover boy” you teased as you approached the boy. “I am, I don’t know if you are!” He joked standing up from his seated position, one arm picking up one of your hands, the other moving to your waist to spin you out. You let out a squeal as he dips you to the floor almost, his firm grip on your waist the only thing keeping you from falling. It’s then that you notice the closeness of his face to yours. His nose brushes against yours gently, the beginnings of a smile apear on his face.

“Well, well, well darlings! What do we have here! Save that chemistry for the cameras please! At least until the shoot is over! Are you ready to proceed” Paolo wiggling his eyebrows at the pair.

Timothée practically swigs you back up almost giving you whiplash, and stands a few feet apart from you. He clears his throat. You nod to Paolo that you were ready. For a moment you had forgotten where you were and what your purpose was for the day, it was only the two of you.

You both walk over into position by the blossomed bushes. The sunlight was bouncing off of your skin warming the surface. “So this is the scene that’s going to be in slow motion baby, so make use of that dress I want you lifting and dropping it and Timothée maybe spin her or something!” Paolo spoke with enthusiasm picking up parts of your dress making them fly around the air.

“Okay ready darlings! Action!” Stepping out of shot back into his chair.

What are you willing to do, Oh tell me what you're willing to do? (Kiss it, kiss it better, baby)

As soon as the direction was called, Timothée pulled you in close by your waist, dipping you down again this time a little slower than before, the movements feeling more intimate on camera. A fan had been turned on to help with the movement of your dress, you raised your bare leg gently wrapping it around his waist as your back arched, Timothée pulled you up to meet his eyes, two strang hand around your back, you lay yours gently around his neck, one caressing his jawline.

One camera man moves in quickly with a dolly, as you lip sync the lyrics ‘kiss it, kiss it better baby.’

Timothée leans forward as you tilt your head back allowing him to place another tender kiss on the skin of your neck.

“Aaaand cut! Oh that was beautiful!” You were expecting him to take a step away from you but he remained close with his arm draped over your shoulder. A warm tingling feeling surged through your body putting a warm smile on your face.

“Right I want to do one more shot here, just a short one over a guitar riff, just of you being cute” Paolo winks at the two of you causing a deep red to rise to your cheeks, you know he can sense you’ve developed a bit of a crush for your costar for the day and he just loves to taunt you. But honestly who wouldn’t.

Timothée turns to you a sense of excitement in his eyes, “we could possibly do something simple, just like lying down on the grass and have the odd few touches, if you catch my drift” he rambled on some of his words overlapping in places where he spoke too fast.

“I love it, simple but effective” you reply and nudge him with your arms. You move to a more open area of the garden where more sunlight was hitting, and plonk yourself down on the ground. For the second time that day Paolo came and set you both into a position, lying on your side, held up by one arm with one leg straight and the other arched, he positioned your dress in the ‘floatyist’ way possible as he liked to called it. Timothée lay opposite you in a similar position. His close proximity to you made it almost impossible to breath.

Paolo stood away from you, eyeing the finial positioning one more time. “Okay you look beautiful, are you ready?” You both nod, he steps out of frame and takes a seat in his directors chair. “Action”

A guitar riff sounds through the speakers on a continuous loop. Timothée’s hand grazes the skin of your face working it’s way along your body, travelling along your slender shoulders, across your hips and tracing patterns on your legs. You nuzzle your head into his neck and look back to see his eyes boring into your own, you could detail every emerald and amber fleck merging together, the corners of his mouth curve into a smile, he leant in and placed a short but tender kiss on your lips. Unscripted and unplanned, your breath caught in your throat and you felt your cheeks turn pink. You could hear the gasp from Paolo behind you.

“And cut!”

Sunlight was glistening through the large windows, pouring into the and bouncing from the crystal chandeliers that hung high on the ceiling in technicolour streams. There was a king sized four post bed covered in white sheets, floating down from each of the posts and draping down onto the floor. The rest of the rooms furnishings were kept simple but still extravagant. The room was bright and vibrant in colour, leaving a nice contrast to your final look of the shoot.

Timothée’s gasp was audible as you entered the room. Then there was silence and you swear all you could hear was the sound of your heart beating out of its chest. You sauntered over and took a perch next to the curly headed boy sat on the bed. Paolo came rushing in with the creative director followed by the large fan ready for one of the shots.

“Are you having fun mr chalamet?” You quiz the boy as he watches intently as the producers and runners set a few things for the shots. “Yeah I am, it’s nice to hang out with yo-“ his sentence was cut short by Paolo clapping his hands in front of your faces, “oh y/n you look breathtaking darling! Now let’s plot through these last scenes, I’m ready to see some steamy intense passion!” Turning on his heals he walks towards his chair.

You shrug your shoulders at Timothée laughing shaking your head quietly. You raise from your seated position and walk further into the room. Timothée stays in his seated position slightly hunched over with his hands casually resting on his knees. You loved watching the shift of Timothée getting into character, going from this bubbly smiley to brooding and smouldering in a matter of seconds. It sent shivers up your spine.

“Action!”

I've been waiting up all night, Baby, tell me what's wrong, Go on and make it right, Make it all night long

Your head lifted on the beat, lips parting. Timothée’s head raised his head slowly his eyes daringly meeting yours. His hands slide up his thighs a few inches where he pats instructing you to come over. You take three steps towards the boy, that’s all it took. Your leg raised and stomped it’s self up on the bed. Timothée’s hands wrapped around the leg sliding up the nylon fabric of the stockings. Your head rolled back on the beat. His lips lowered to press a kiss on the inside of your thigh, your fingers interlaced themselves in his loose curls, stroking down the side of his face.

You lifted your other leg to kneel on the other side of Timothée’s lap before sitting yourself in a straddling position. His eyes flickered down to your neck. Placing delicate kisses along the base as your head gently fell to the side, his hands wrapped around your waist and yours reached back up to take a hold of his curls. His head pulls back and you look into his eyes once more before lip syncing to your lyrics “make it all night long”

“Cut! Oh beautiful! Just beautiful! Do you need a break from all the sexual tension or are we okay to move straight on!” Paolo raised his eyebrows a smirk increasingly apparent on his face. “We can move on” you laugh moving back to lay on the bed for your next and final shot of the day.

“Okay let’s try the fans!” The fans switch on causing all the tulle and silk drapes hanging from the bed posts to float around the air. The flying fabric as well as the rainbow streams beaming through the room from the chandelier really set the ambience in the room, and made it feel almost dream like.

You laughed as Timothée’s curls began to blow in the wind as he edged too close to one of the fans. Paolo almost had a fit until he saw you pull him back towards the bed and fix his curls, gently twiddling them around your fingers putting them into their somewhat ‘disheveled’ style. “Okay there, that’s better” you giggle brushing the final curls away from his face.

“Positions people! Come on I have 5 cats to get home to darlings!” You laugh again at Paolo clapping and snapping his fingers at you taking your time to get into position.

“Okay ready action!”

Ooh do what you gotta do, keep me up all night (all night), Hurting vibe, man, and it hurts inside when I look you in your eye

With all the tulle and silk flying around the room the camera had a more blurred vision of the pair of you. You laid back on the bed, body elongated against the bed, arms stretched above your head. Timothée began crawling on top of you, placing kisses along different parts of your body as he made his way up. When he reached eye level with you, one of his hands moved like silk against your skin, along your shoulders and tilted your chin up. You raised a hand to his shoulder and pushed him back up slightly this time rising with him.

You both sit up to a kneeling position and face each other for a moment before leaning in on the beat. His long arms encase your body holding you close, while your own wrap around his neck. He draws you in for a kiss, you hesitate for a second just before your lips meet to look into those eyes. His lips perk up into a smile before he presses them against your own. For just a second you completely forget about the world around you, with tulle flying around in the air it made everything feel that bit more romantic. His lips move melodically against your own for a short time before drawing away, but still keeping your close proximity.

You see the camera that had once been in a close up shot of the pair of you, pan out on the dolly and the music comes to a stop from the continuous loop it had once been playing on. “Cut! And that is a wrap ladies and gentlemen! Well done and congratulations miss l/n on another beautiful shoot!” A few of the crew members cheer and you clap along thanking them for their hard work.

The fans are switched off and the silk and tulle gradually float back to their original spots beside the bed. Your assistant comes running over to you with your robe which you gracefully slip over your shoulders. “Thank you so much for your hard work and dedication to this Timothée I really appreciate it, it’s been amazing working with you today” you nod your head to the curly headed boy flashing him a genuine smile, in which he returns.

“It was my pleasure y/n truly, and if you ever have anything else lined up in the future you think I’d be suitable for, please let me know I’d be honoured to work with you again!” He spoke with enthusiasm his hands fumbled in his lap. “Oh of course I would be honoured to have you again! It’s been lovely seeing you Timothée, I hope we can do this again sometime..” your words draw out, longing to stay in his company just a little longer.

“Right well I should go get ready to leave, I can’t exactly walk around town like this can I” you half joked standing from the bed, Timothée joined you and shoved his hands into his pockets awkwardly looking to the ground. “No, well I mean you could but you might get a few stares” he laughs softly. “Thanks again Timmy, and maybe I’ll see you soon” you turn and give him a brief hug, he says his goodbyes. And just as you’re walking out the door you hear your name being called.

“Y/n!” You turn around to look at the hopeful boy who seemed to have a certain glimmer in his eyes. “Would you maybe wanna go grab some dinner after this? Somewhere where there aren’t any cameras” he smiled cheekily and you could feel your heart thumping in your chest.

“Oh thank god you asked! Yes, let me go and get ready, and I’ll see you in a lil bit okay” you lean forwards and leave a peck on his cheek. Pulling away you see the same gleam in his eyes that you had felt. And a warm buzzing feeling had overcome you, and you couldn’t help the Cheshire grin that had plastered itself all over your face as you walked back to your dressing room. What a wonderful day to shoot a music video!

#timothee fanfic #timoth?e chalamet icons #timothee x reader #fanfiction #timothee imagine #timoth?e chalamet #timoth?e chalamet imagines #timoth?e x reader #timothee x you #timothee #timothée angst #timothée chalamet imagines #timothée imagine #timothée x reader #timothée smut

[jokers-of-the-impractical]

Brian Quinn Mini Series “I Found a Boy” Part 3 of 3

Part 1   Part 2 

Content Warning: Implied Smut, Swearing

Word Count: 2100ish

The warm sunshine peeking through the curtains was a welcome contrast to the chilly weather that lay on the streets of Staten Island below you. You kept your eyes closed to savor the moment for just a short while more, but soon the serene beauty was interrupted by the sound of a beeping alarm clock altering it was now eight in the morning. You felt the bed shift next to you and knew Brian was turning to shut off the noise coming from your bedside table. The cats began to shift as well and leap down from their respective resting spots. As Q did so he leaned his face down and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, instantly a warmth began to rise to your cheeks. “Good morning sweetheart” he muttered out in a half asleep and still raspy voice with an adorable grin and messy hair strewn about his head. As he began to turn back over to get out of bed and begin prepping for the morning ahead of him, you wrapped both your arms around one of his and held on tight. “No. Five more minutes” you grumbled out. You glanced over to see him giggling to himself. He did his best to shimmy out of your arms but it was to no avail. Slowly you climbed on top of him, the satin of your pajama set grazing against his bare chest and boxers. You were not letting the love of your life and personal space heater get up this morning. You raised your head so that your eyes would meet his deep shining orbs lovingly gazing back at you. “Baby, I gotta go! Trust me the sooner I get to the production meeting, the sooner I get to come home and hang out with you.” You let out an overly dramatic sigh and slight chuckle escaped too.

“But Bri, why did they have to schedule a meeting on a weekend! I went to spend my day off with you.” With that you sat up with crisscrossed legs and crossed your arms across your chest. With the last word you let your lips pop out into a pout. He could tell you were joking around with him and sat up to make your eyes meet again. “Well… who knows Mrs. Quinn? Maybe once I get back we can reenact what happened late into the night.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Of course Mr. Quinn.” With that he planted a deep and passionate kiss on your lips before he rose from the bed and started to get ready for his meeting. As you cozied back into bed to escape the cold you silently watched him in awe, how did you get so lucky? You looked down to the engagement ring he had placed on your hand three years ago, and the wedding band that had resided with it for just under two years. You didn’t realize just how lost you had been in your thoughts until he was facing you again, dressed and his signature iced tea with lemon in a travel cup in tow with his car keys. But the smell of the tea today sent your stomach on a tilt-a-whirl. “Well my love, I’m off. I’ll be back before ya know it!” You pecked his lips and he made his way back downstairs and out the door. As soon as you were sure he wouldn’t hear you, you jumped up and sprinted to the bedroom’s ensuite bathroom to release the contents of your stomach. After you had finished, you kept wondering why all of the sudden the smell of iced tea and lemon made you puke? Then it hit you. You started rummaging through the cabinets in the bathroom until you found the hot pink boxes you were looking for. You pulled out the pregnancy tests that the rest of the guys got you as a one-year anniversary present. After making sure they hadn’t expired and how to use them, you go to business, using both just to be sure. You finished up and set the timer on your phone. As you waited you brushed your teeth to get the rancid taste out of your mouth from the unfortunate wake up call you had a few minutes prior. Once the timer chimed letting you know it was time to check, you slowly grabbed both tests and flipped them over to see the results. Both of them were the same. You were pregnant. An immense wave of joy and excitement washed over you. Now you were even more excited for Brian to get home so you could tell him the news. You knew he would be in the meeting until around eleven-thirty so you decided to take a quick shower and find other ways to occupy the time. After the warm droplets of water relaxed your muscles, you put your hair up in a messy bun and decided to throw on an oversized sweater and leggings. You then grabbed some papers you had to look over and grade that were sitting on your desk as well as your favorite bottle of nail polish. As you made your way downstairs to the living room you stopped at the framed photo of you and Brian from your wedding reception. It was a photo from your first dance. There you stood in your spaghetti strap ball gown, and hair done is a style reminiscent of Brigette Bardot with Bri looking very dapper in a tuxedo, he had just told you some silly joke so you were both looking at each other laughing. You could still feel the emotions and see the love in your eyes and his, you remember how happy you both felt them, and know you had the joys of parenthood to look forward to. Since grading elementary school papers was a total breeze you were now sitting with the tv on quietly for some background noise with a freshly dry mani and pedi while curled up and reading a book. Suddenly, loud knocking echoed abruptly throughout the house. You put your book down puzzled and followed the cats to the door. You were expecting anyone, but you opened the door anyway thinking maybe it was Amazon. As the door opened you soon met a familiar pair of eyes, those belonging to a certain ex boyfriend named Dean. “Dean? What are you doing here? Wait. How do you even know where I live?” He shoved his hands into his pant pockets and looked at you with a sheepish smile. “Hey Y/N. Can I come in? I’ve wanted to talk to you for quite some time, and I finally convinced Natasha to tell me your address.” You let out an exasperated sigh, and motioned for him to come in. You made a mental note to call your friend Nat and chew her out later. You knew that she was still friends with Dean after your breakup, but heck she was one of your best friends and bridesmaids! Why would she tell him! You led Dean to the small table in the kitchen, he took a seat while you leaned against the counter. You brewed yourself a mug of hot cocoa to calm the fury and nerves coursing through you. “Do you want anything?” “Um yeah, can I have water?” You went into the fridge, pulled out a bottle, handed it to him and took your place across the table. “What do you want Dean?” the annoyance was evident in your voice. “I just wanted to catch up, see how you were doing.” “I’m doing just fine. How’s Andi?” When you brought up your ex best friend and the girl he cheated on you with, he slightly flinched. “I’m okay. We ended things years ago.” “Aw. I hate to say I’m not surprised. So no other conquests or flings?” He just shook his head. You had no idea where all of this sudden confidence was coming from, but you weren’t complaining. Throughout your relationship Brian had helped you grow even more and get even more brave and strong, if only he could see this now. “Are you still with that guy from TV? Nat told me it was pretty serious.” “Yeah I am still with Brian, in fact he should be back here soon.” You looked at him dumbfounded, did he honestly not know you and Brian had been married for almost two years now? You looked to see that the sleeve of your sweater was covering the rings on your finger. You went to slide the sleeve down to show him the rings, when he suddenly started speaking again while rising up from the table. “Look Y/N, the real reason I’m here is that… I know I messed up. But I’m here now, please leave this Brian guy and we can start over! I love you.” Now you shot up from the table too. “Are you kidding me! You think that after all this time you could just show up and expect me to take you back! I spent so much time crying over you and you didn’t care. Now that I am not only the best version of myself, but I am now happily with the love of my life you think you can show up, ask me to leave him and I’ll go with you? No! You can take all those crocodile tears and go cry me a river like I did over you a long time ago.” In all the commotion, you didn’t hear the front door open or close and the cats going to greet Q. Nor did you hear the footsteps making their way to the kitchen to hear what all the yelling was about. “Brian is the most amazing man in the world, and you will never be a tenth of the man he is! How dare you come here acting like you want me, now that I don’t need you or want anything to do with you.” Then a voice cut of your angry rant. “Aww baby! You really think I’m the most amazing man in the world?” You turned around to see your husband with a bag of Chinese takeout in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. You ran over and jumped into his arms, while he spun you around in a hug. “Honey you’re home! How was your day? I-” You were soon cut off again by Dean. “Wait, you two live together?” You turned your head back to Dean. “Umm yeah. Married couples usually do.” “Wait, you’re married!” Brian then chimed in. “Yup, going on two years. Wait are you Dean?” Dean shook his head, and Brain placed you down gently. “Dude I gotta shake your hand man, cause if it wasn’t for you being a total asshole and idiot I may have never met Y/N. And she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” He shook his hand vigorously. “Now if you’ll excuse us, I believe I have some lunch waiting for me and my beautiful wife. You can feel free to see yourself out.” With that Dean slumped his shoulders and began to make his way to the front door and you both heard the door open and close. You turned back to Brian and peppered kisses all over his face. “What’s all this for?” you motioned to the takeout and flowers. “Well, I felt so bad about you being here while I was in a meeting so one the way home I went to Chang’s and got our favorites, then I went by the flower stand and got these.” “Bri this is amazing! And I have a surprise for you too.” “Really? Well what is it?” You went back upstairs and grabbed one of the pregnancy tests and hid it behind your back. “Are you ready?” “Oh honey I was born ready!” “Okay, close your eyes, and stick out your hands.” Brian did as he was told and you placed the test gently into his hands. “Okay open ‘em!” Brian sprung his eyes open and looked down. He started at the test for a moment and then the gears started turning. Soon he was trying to get words out but couldn’t. “Y/N, are you?” “Pregnant? Uh-huh!” He grabbed you and picked you up again. ‘We’re gonna have a baby!” He kissed you yet again and set you down gently. The minute you were back on solid ground, his hands went straight to your tummy, and kisses soon followed. You both spent that evening cuddled up on your bed talking about the future until you fell asleep still intertwined and cats all around you both.

#brian quinn #Brian Q Quinn #brian quinn imagine #celebrity crush imagine #impractical jokers #impractical jokers imagine #imagine

[harringtonheartache]

Daybreak | Part Twenty

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Lab Escapee! Reader?

Summary: Part twenty (wow!) of this fic. The mother-son relationship no one asked for but everyone needed. Nine’s gone and neither Steve nor Nine herself know how to deal with it. 

Word Count: 2,175 -ish

Warning(s): Cussing

A/N: Sorry if this is a little short compared to my other recent chapters, but nevertheless, enjoy! <3 all of you guys, your sweet little comments make me so happy (-: 

Steve sat unmoving on the floor of the Byers’ home, hands against the wooden flooring, knees bent before him in the same position he’d landed when he fell back. His chest heaved a few times as he looked, blankly, at the wall in front of him. 

Joyce, for a hesitant moment, was achingly unsure of her own presence. She looked to the wall, to the floor, to the boy sitting there in her living room. It took her a minute to jumpstart herself, but after that she circled around the recliner and sat behind him silently. She lifted a hand, a little shaky from the chaos, and placed it consolingly on his shoulder. 

He didn’t move, but the tears started; quiet but hot against his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” a hushed murmur from behind him said. 

And so he folded; unable and unwilling to let his sadness swell in silence. He dropped backwards into Joyce’s lap and she welcomed him, hugging his shrinking frame to herself as he let himself cry. 

She rubbed his back, a tender hand up and down the length of his curled composure. She wanted to console him properly, say the things she knew she was supposed to say. The “she’s okay, you’ll see her again” ‘s. The “we’ll find her” ’s and the “she’ll be back” ’s. All of the things she was told about her son. But she couldn’t stomach anymore patronizing, and so she said how she left instead. “I’m sorry.”

-

Nine woke up feeling cold. Joyce’s living room had been a mess, sure, but a perfectly temperate mess; colored lights strung from wall to wall to really sell the cozy atmosphere. The Byers’ house: the first place her mind drifted to in her haze between conscious and unconscious. Then a feeling of pressure — pure remembrance — a hold strong and warm on her own hand. That warmth fizzled out by the time she had fully dedicated herself to consciousness, and the chill took over her hand as it had the rest of her. 

She rolled over, a plop against the damp ground, and her arm ached when she pressed it to the floor. Sharp pain made her breath hitch and then she groaned, eyes clamped shut, body rocking.  

“Fuck.”

She let herself lay there for a minute, and looking around she understood the scale at which she existed in this new place. Around her was only darkness, and while individually concerning this was contextually a relief. The creature that had attacked the house was gone, seemingly never there. 

No one was. 

“Will?” she asked into the emptiness. It was almost a dumb thing to say, but she needed to hear her own voice again to convince herself that she was really there. Alive, alone, awake, there. 

Nine hadn’t really wanted to get up. To stand, firstly and independently a chore in and of itself, would take energy she wasn’t yet willing to sacrifice. To then perhaps take a few steps in any direction (her choice, it would be the same no matter the decision) would only confirm her fears. And her fears were, of course, that she was lost. Misplaced in a gap of darkness and vanished from the world, her existence bordering on extinct. 

“Steve?” A dumber thing to say, she knew this, but she called it out anyway. 

-

The gravel that made up the Byers’ driveway crunched underneath Hopper’s truck. He stepped down, adjusting his hat to sit with more purpose, and walked up Joyce’s porch with a slowness reflective of his ignorance. 

He knocked once, the steady sound of knuckles against wood, but the door opened promptly, leaving his declaration of arrival unfinished. 

“Wha-”

“Come in,” Joyce said to him earnestly. A command, really. 

She swung the door open now, an ushering hand lifting from her side. Hopper stared at her, a little rattled by her severe demeanor. Joyce had appeared in his office a number of occasions this past week, sometimes before he even got there, always with an unhinged vigor. She’d stand before him as he sat sluggish at his desk (the only time she’d be taller than him), and talk at a speed he often had trouble keeping up with so early in the morning. Now there was something more advanced about her composure; she had upgraded, still an intense presence, just perhaps with higher morale. 

“Come in!” She said, wide eyes blinking at him as she swung her arm a second time.

“Jesu- okay,” he said, stepping forwards.   

Steve sat on the couch with his head thrown down in his hands, unwilling to bother picking himself up to greet the sheriff. His eyes were closed; maybe trying to block out what was happening, maybe too apprehensive about opening them as it may encourage more tears. Or maybe he just didn’t want to be burdened with the sense of sight. Himself: slumped over rather pitifully on the couch, the living room: old phone book still on the floor from Joyce’s wrath, the wall: that long line over the wallpaper he had watched form as it sealed back up. He’d rather restrict himself to the darkness gifted by closed eyes.  

“The hell has been happening here?” Hopper asked, doing a full 180 as he took in the catastrophe of a home. 

“A lot,” Joyce said simply. 

“Steve?” Hopper spoke, looking to the boy motionless on the couch, not entirely present. He got no response. 

“Steve?” he said again, and this time Steve sat up. His legs were parted, once supporting his arms that were once supporting his head, and he tossed himself against the back of the couch. He bounced against the cushion then settled in, arms thrown in his lap in a standoffish manner. 

“What the hell happened here?”

“What?” Steve started defiantly. “What, you wanted proof?” His head dipped to the side as he mocked curiosity. “You wanted proof that she had powers, right? Well I got another fuckin’ witness now.” One of his arms lifted as he motioned to Joyce, eyes stagnant on the sheriff. 

“Steve-”

“No, she’s a witness. Go ahead, ask her. Since Nine’s not here to show you.” 

“Can you just tell me what is going on?”

Steve sat forward again and his elbows rested on his knees. 

“She’s fucking gone. But I guess you don’t care,” he said, head tilting to the side, “because now there’s one less person you have to question.” 

Hopper stilled, drawing to memory who he was (surely) talking about. The girl he carried from that building, from those people in white lab coats. The girl Steve clinged to so desperately in the backseat of his car — yes, that one. The girl at the center of all of his problems, but maybe at the center of the solutions, too. Gone. A troubling choice of words. 

“The… did the lab get her again?”

“The-” Steve stopped, pulling his lips into his mouth to bite. “Not the lab, the thing. The faceless goddamn thing from the forest! It took her, and she fell into some- some kind of void,” he said, his shoulders shrugging forward as he shook his head at his own words. “and chances are, I’ll never fucking see her again.”

He didn’t specify what he meant, didn’t want to burden himself with the thought process that would decide how feasible his fears were. “Never (fucking) see her again” — whether that meant she was dead or alive was up to Hopper to conclude. Steve didn’t want to give that question any more room to wander around his mind, and having to clarify that unknown outloud would be giving it too much room. 

Hopper was unmoving. He looked to Joyce but her eyes were strictly on the ground. 

“I- I’m sorry,” he began.

“Sorry?” Steve said, and he sat up again as his face shifted from irate to mournful. “I don’t want you to be sorry,” he spoke, and his once straight eyebrows furrowed. “I wanted you to do something! She told you detail by detail what happened and you just got in your car and drove away! Our job was to protect her, and sure, maybe I failed, but so did you!” 

He stood up now, taller than Joyce, but not with enough height to quite make it to Hopper’s level. Still, he composed himself intensely, broad shoulders and stiff back. He took his best shot at an intimidating face, but it soon shrugged off his expression and the naturally dismal one returned; locked into place and unfleeting. 

“You didn’t do anything.” 

-

Nine sat up on her knees — half the commitment of standing — and the shallow water she had been dropped into rippled around her skin. With her movement came a wavering fog in the distance, something appearing but not quite ready to be seen. Her legs pushed forwards, quickly, so that she was taller, and she peered fervently ahead. From her mouth came a sound: the beginning of a question she didn’t know exactly the purpose of asking. “Wh-”

As if in response to her half-question, the fog became more dense. Glowing with a light without origin, colors became more clear and a shape began to form. Nine waited, eyes trained ahead, until the movement stopped again. 

She finally stood up, all of the force in her body pushing her trembling legs from the ground one at a time. Water dripped from her frame as she rose, each drop making a little circle appear in the wetness below when it hit the floor. Her hands landed at her sides, swinging a little from the sudden movement, and she stood as she had sat: with expectant eyes. Your move. 

The fog resumed and the shape became identifiable. It was a house: small and brown and familiar. Only having seen it once was enough for Nine to recognize the Byers’ residence.

She moved with strength she didn’t realize she had until now, arms swinging, breath rapid as she ran to the house in front of her, almost worried it would disappear if she weren’t quick enough to catch it. The gravel driveway was gone, replaced with the new texture of wet, and her feet splashed water up the length of her legs. She tossed the door open, one hand forcefully turning the knob and the other against the wood to push it open hard enough to knock into the wall behind it. 

“Steve?”

An empty house. Joyce’s lights still hung from the walls but they weren’t on anymore, leaving the living room dark and dejecting. The couch, the reclining chair, the coffee table she had stumbled over before — all present but coated in a layer of gloom. Suddenly she felt like she should be in there. 

Nine took a step backwards but didn’t turn around yet, eyes still darting from wall to wall, unwilling to give up hope where her brain had already. The porch creaked underneath her step and she stilled again, uneasy. 

A humming noise started from a distance. A few notes, maybe a song, and this was much more unsettling than the sound of old wood. Finally Nine spun around and when she did the sound seemed to grow louder. 

She didn’t move, unsure of where she’d even go. She entertained the idea of turning back around and retreating into the house to hide, but dropped it one she started to make out words from the sing-song humming. 

“Should I stay or should I go?”

Sung small and with little strength, a pitch reached by a child. 

“Hello?” she said, finally able to get a question out. 

The humming paused as her word rang in echoes throughout the air. And then, a response: “Hello?” a voice mirrored her question, it’s tone jumping from hopeless to hopeful. 

Nine gasped as if she didn’t expect the return, and her feet stalled as she began another step forwards. 

“Will?” 

Another long drag of silence, this time longer, but ended with a more started toss of words. “Help! Help me! I’m over here!” he said. 

Her head was thrown from left to right as she tried to figure out where the sound was coming from. “I’m- I’m coming!” she shouted to nothing, hoping it would consol the little voice. She turned viciously when she spotted a minuscule light in the corner of her vision, and her feet took off in its direction, jumping the porch and splashing again in the water below. Running as quickly as she had towards the house, she breathed heavily; partly from exhaustion, partly from adrenaline. Her feet skidded when she reached the glowing figure: a small triangle, a feeble tent with an even more feeble sign reading “Castle Byers” in neat yellow paint. 

“W-Will?” she asked it, bending down and pushing aside a blanket that acted as a door with her hand, gentle as she reached inside for a peek.

Sitting up from a curled composure: a modest ball of blankets in the center of the fort. A head poked out from the top, and a smile began to develop on its face. 

“You came,” Will said with a full grin. 

---

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