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13uswntimagines · 3 years

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Always Hers (Emily Sonnett x Reader)

Request: A sequel to Always Yours where Kelley introduces Sonnett to reader and they hit it off, and a relationship builds. Basically it’s 7000 words of Emily and reader falling in love, Christen realizing she royally messed up, Tobin freaking out just a touch, and Kelley totally not gloating about it.

Author’s Note: This was requested by @women-enthusiast

Emily was terrified. She had been having the time of her life, sat in the front row of an Y/n L/n concert dancing next to Kelley. Hell, during Shut Up and Dance you had even winked in their direction (making all of the girls around them swoon). But about halfway through the show, a very large man had come to stand in front of them.

He had simply stood and stared, leaving them mostly alone until the very end of the show. He sent them a small smile and an “if you two ladies could come with me please”, before escorting them out of the crowd and deeper into the stadium. Which every turn down the twisting hallway, she felt the knot in her stomach get tighter and tighter. What the fuck was happening?

“You gotta relax before you have an aneurism. Everything will be fine,” Kelley said quietly as the man led them through a door and into a cozy-looking room.

A couch sat against one wall, a Stanford sweatshirt thrown carelessly across it and a guitar propped up beside it. The sound of running water gave them a very good guess of what was behind the door on the opposing wall.

Emily took a deep breath, holding in a gasp. This couldn’t be what she thought it was.

“If you would please wait here, Ms. L/n will be with you in a few minutes. Feel free to help yourself to the table,” The man smiled, gesturing towards the table filled with water and a fruit tray across from the comfy looking couch.

Kelley rolled her eyes, immediately making her way over to the food table to peruse the options. She scrunched her nose as she looked over the items.

“Well this is bullshit,” She mumbled, grabbing a grape and popping it into her mouth. Emily frowned, unsure as to how Kelley could be so casual right now.

“What?” She asked, stepping towards the table. She blinked at the spread. There was way too much food on the table for one person.

“There aren’t any chocolate-covered strawberries. They always used to be on her riders,” Kelley mumbled, puffing her cheeks out as she grabbed her another grape. Emily frowned. How the fuck did she know what was supposed to be on the table? She opened her mouth to ask the question, but a voice behind her beat her to it.

“Apparently they were unavailable this last minute,” Emily whipped around in shock, her eyes bulging at the sight of you in a pair of sweatpants and a white tank top, casually running a towel through your hair. You smiled crookedly at them, your dimples on full display. It wasn’t your stage smile though, Emily noted (barely able to take her eyes off your exposed biceps enough to actually think about it). It was easier, more natural.

“Holy shit, you’re-“ Emily studdered, her brain unable to process that you were standing right in front of her. Your lips quirked in amusement before you looked past the blond to your favorite defender.

“You couldn’t come and greet us yourself, you had to send oddjob after us?” Kelley asked, tossing another grape in her mouth and crossing her arms. She hadn’t brought Emily here to set you up, but her reaction was definitely amusing. She also hadn’t missed the extra blinks you had given the blond defender. Perhaps her plan was going to work better than expected.

You rolled your eyes at the woman. Greg had been your security guard for years and she still refused to learn his name. You were just lucky that their presence hadn’t caused a riot in the crowd.

“You conveniently forgot to tell me that you were coming, and Greg didn’t want a replay of the riot we almost had at the Superdome,” You said, your eyebrow quirking up. She winced at the memory, shaking her head and finally closing the distance between the two of you.

You huffed her tightly to you, resting your cheek on the top of her head. The two of you swayed lightly as you hugged. It had been way too long since you had seen each other.

“Missed you sunshine, you never answer your phone anymore” She hummed into your neck.

“Missed you too,” You said softly, holding her tighter, and ignoring the second statement. The truth was that it was hard, that sometimes when you talked to Kelley all you could think about were your college days. It wasn’t just her that you pushed away, it was everyone.

You had been friends with the woman even before the two of you went to college. She was your sounding board, your rock, more your sister than your friend at this point, and she hated you were locking yourself away again.

“You, you’re-“ Emily’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. You squeezed Kelley one last time before returning your attention to the blond standing wide-eyed in the middle of the room.

You had to admit that she was adorable with her pink cheeks and her hands pinned at her sides, unsure of what to do.

“You should introduce me before she passes out,” You whispered loudly, nudged Kelley. The older defender smirked at her counterpart. She hadn’t meant for you and Emily to be more than friends, but if it turned out that way, she wouldn’t be upset. You were the sweetest person she knew, even if you had lost some of your sunshine over the years. You would treat the blond defender well and vice versa. You both deserved to be happy.

“Right. Emily, this is Y/n. Y/n this is frat daddy junior Emily,” She nodded, not missing the eye contact between the two of you. You smiled wide, taking a step towards the frozen defender and grabbing her hand.

“Well Emily, it’s a pleasure to meet you. A friend of Kelly’s is a friend of mine,” You said, bowing slightly and lifting the back of her hand to your lips. You could be suave when you wanted to be.

“You said my name,” She said dumbfounded, her mouth hanging open slightly.

“I think she’s made one too many tackles,” You laughed, glancing at Kelley over your shoulder. The woman facepalmed. The most interest you had shown in another person in nearly a year, and she’s too star-struck to realize it.

“I swear she’s not usually like this,” Kelley mumbled, and you bit your lip in amusement.

“Whatever you say Squirrel,”

*****

Emily smiled down at her phone. The two of you had been texting nonstop since the concert, and she found herself slowly becoming addicted to your sweet and sometimes dirty sense of humor.

It was interesting, how different you and your stage persona were.

She learned how quiet and thoughtful you were. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t hide the sadness that seemed to linger behind your million dollar smiles. A cautiousness behind every interaction. She wondered what had turned you from Kelley’s so-called sunshine into a cloudy day.

She bit her lip watching the three little dots, indicating that you were typing, hoping that you would like the restaurant she had chosen. She giggled at your quippyness about how posh the place sounded.

“Who ya texting that’s got you smiling like that?” Kelley asked, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder. Emily jumped, her phone nearly falling out of her hands as she rushed to get out of the message, before seeing it was only Kelley.

“Oh, just Y/n,” Emily mumbled, her cheeks turning very pink.

Kelley smothered her smirk as she sat down beside the defender. “That’s cool, what’s she up to?”

“She’s in town, we’re going to get lunch or something,” Emily shrugged nonchalantly, and Kelley’s smirk got bigger. She wasn’t sure if you would go for it after the whole fiasco with Christen.

“Really?”

“You sound surprised?” Emily’s nervous eyes met hers. Kelley paused unsurely. How did you tell one friend that your teammate hurt the girl that she might be interested in so bad that she was terrified of relationships?

“Y/n got hurt really bad by someone she loved. She hasn’t been the same since,” Kelley said softly.

“You mean she hasn’t moved on yet?” Emily’s head tilted to the side, trying to understand. She had heard your stories through music, but she never thought about how that might translate into real life.

Kelley shook her head, biting her lip. After Christen, you had rebuilt your walls and hidden your heart away in your castle so no one could hurt you. That was until you laid eyes on Emily. “She hasn’t let anyone get close to her again,”

“Oh,”

“Yeah, Just don’t hurt her, alright?” Kelley hummed, patting Emily’s knee. If you were going to open up the gates again, she didn’t want an army of white walkers marching in. They would pillage the little bit of you that was left. But the way pink traveled up Emily’s neck all the way to her ears told her that her best friend knew how delicate this situation was.

“We’re just friends Kell,” Emily muttered.

“Whatever you say junior, and for the record, she didn’t text me about lunch,” Kelley laughed, patting her leg one more time as she stood. You two would figure it out on your own time.

****

Emily smiled at Greg as she passed through the door to the little cafe you had chosen for lunch. He winked at her and pointed towards a table in the back, away from the windows twiddling your fingers nervously.

All the security and fans staked out everywhere you went took some serious getting used to, as did your propensity for cheeseburgers over anything remotely fancy. Each time the two of you had done this over the past few months you had chosen somewhere with reasonable food and amazing milkshakes.

The crooked grin you saved specifically for Emily broke across your face when you saw her, and you stood from your chair to greet her in a warm hug. You kissed her cheek and stepped back to pull her chair out for her, before handing her a beautiful (plastic) Rose. It had become a thing between the two of you. You didn’t like real flowers, they died, but fake ones stayed forever.

“Hey superstar, I’m glad you could make it,” You grinned, pushing her chair in, and taking the seat across from her.

“Well, you’re too cute to pass up,” She quipped back, enjoying the pink that dusted your cheeks.

“I ordered you’re regular. Is that ok?”

“You remembered my order?” Emily asked, her eyes widening in surprise. You felt the warmth in your cheeks travel up to your ears. The truth was that you had known her order after the 3rd time lunch the two of you had done, (and you ordered extra onion rings in case she didn’t want the French fries).

“Well, we’ve done this a few times,” You shrugged, picking at the table. Her hand covered your own, and you smiled softly at the action, suddenly feeling shy.

“You’re adorable,” She mumbled under her breath as the waitress set two milkshakes on the table in front of you. Noticing that yours wasn’t your normal chocolate peanut butter concoction and instead was the strawberry one she had tried last time.

“Hmm, 20 questions?” You asked, sipping your shake (that you definitely didn’t get in case Emily changed her mind).

It had become your go-to game with the woman, and both of you have always had a blast with the get to know you game.

“Are you going to answer mine honestly?” She quirked an eyebrow up at you. The last time you had seen each other, you fibbed just slightly (not so slightly) about your new music. You were reluctant to give spoilers, and you told her your lead-off single was going to be a fun song playing off the saying sex on a beech (cake by the ocean). Instead, you had chosen something much sappier, about the start of a new relationship called Begin Again.

Your fans had gone crazy, trying to put all the pieces together. It seemed they were divided on if you and Christen had gotten back together, or if you were finally moving on. You kept your lips sealed, and it had taken Emily more than an hour to finally weasel to real answer out of you.

“Scouts honor,” You saluted, taking another drag of the strawberry milkshake.

“You go first,” Emily grabbed your shake and took a sip, pushing her own chocolate one back towards you. You blinked, thinking for a second. You had never mastered suttelty in normal conversation, and you had no idea how to ask your question.

“Are you dating anyone?”

“Nope,” She smiled, popping the p. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Cool. I believe you’re now entitled to a question?”

Emily tapped her chin in thought, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Are the rumors true? Kelley won’t tell me,”

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific babe,” You smirked, smiling kindly at the waitress as she set down your double cheeseburgers. Your life was plagued with rumors. That you were dating this celebrity, that Preath had broken your heart.

“You dated Christen and all your songs are about her?” Emily asked, grabbing an onion ring off your plate and dipping it in your milkshake.

“I think dating would be a bit of a stretch,” you snorted, shaking your head. You weren’t sensitive about it anymore considering the media shoved it down their throat every chance they got. Emily waved her hand as if to say go on, you sighed. Despite the media pressure, you hadn’t really told anyone (besides Kelley) about it before.“We were best friends, who occasionally slept together. I caught feelings, Christen didn’t. She wanted Tobin and I was her plaything until Toby was ready.” You said the midfield turned forward’s name mockingly, looking wistfully over Emily’s shoulder.

She watched you for a moment, taking in the faraway look in your eyes. Her heart ached at the deep line in your forehead that hadn’t been there mere moments before.

“That was only the first part of my question,” she said softly. You blinked back to yourself.

“I write about what I feel, so some of them are about her. But lately they’re all about an amazing girl who makes me feel things that scare the crap out of me, things I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel again,” Your y/e/c eyes met her blue ones and you smiled softly.

Emily sat up in surprise, anxiety beginning to bubble up in her chest. She liked doing this with you, and she didn’t want it to stop. She opened her mouth to ask her, but your shaken voice cut her off.

“Would you be my girlfriend?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Emily smiled, leaning across the table, cupping your cheek and placing a very sweet kiss on your lips. Your fingers tangled into the baby hairs at the back of her neck as you carefully pulled her closer. You pull away a second later, connecting your forehead and breathing heavy. You would take that as a resounding yes.

“Does this mean I can hear the rest of the album early?” She asked, her breath fanning across your lips.

“I’m sure we can work something out,” you said as you leaned in again. Gosh her lips were addictive.

*****

Distance sucked, but over the past year, you and Emily had made it work. It was difficult with your music commitments and her soccer stuff, but as far as the two of you were concerned, it was worth it.

Emily laid with her eyes closed, her phone resting on her chest and Kelley sitting beside her as the radio host introduced you to the audience. She was happy to relax and listen to you talk about the thing you were the most passionate about (besides her).

It was nice to hear your voice, even if it sounded even more tired than it had when you talked the night before.

She could tell how much the press tour for your new album was taking out of you, and it killed her just a little bit to not be able to comfort you. You hadn’t exchanged the words yet, but she was sure that you loved her as much as she loved you ou.

“So I’ve got to ask, this album sounds so much different than both Heartbreak Hotel and Divinely Inspired to a Hellish Extent. There’s less pining and a lot more love,” The interviewer asked casually, but Emily could hear the smirk in his voice. The fans were going nuts now that your music had shifted from heartbreak to a blossoming love story. They all wanted to know who (Christen) had you writing sappy love songs.

“Yeah, I’m in such a different place than when I wrote either of those two albums, and I think that’s reflected in the music,” You volleyed the question, twisting it around so you were answering it and not answering it all at the same time (a skill that Emily both admired and was terrified of).

“So, it’d be safe to assume that you’re first two albums were about one relationship and this one is about another?” The interviewer pressed. And Emily groaned loudly. God, why couldn’t they just let it go? It had been nearly 3 years since you and Press were a thing. You had moved on and were finally happy, why wasn’t that enough?

Kelley smirked at the outburst, side-eyeing the defender. She was thrilled that you had finally found someone who would treat you right. Both women were so caught up that they didn’t notice the couple entering the room and sitting on the bed opposite of them.

“God, why can’t they just let it go?” Christen said loudly after yet another question from the interviewer. All eyes snapped to her, and Kelley raised her eyebrows at the outburst. “Don’t give me that look, I’m tired of them trying to get her to confirm that we dated,” She huffed, crossing her arms and leaning further into Tobin who began to rub her back.

“I think dating is putting it loosely. If I was her I wouldn’t have just thrown you under the bus, I would have been the fucking driver,” Kelley rolled her eyes.

“That was uncalled for,” Tobin grumbled.

“You’re just upset because you didn’t know Forget You was about you,” Kelley snorted. Remembering how Tobin had walked around camp whistling the tune until she had broken the news. (Still, you found it hilarious considering the original lyrics).

“You know what I meant,” Tobin grumbled.

“I’m pretty sure she’s tired of it too,” Emily said softly, smiling almost sympathetically at the woman. You had gotten over most of your anger, and insisted that she shouldn’t be mean to Tobin. Love made you all do crazy things.

“I write what I feel, and I think the only safe thing to assume from that is that I’m happy,” You added, bringing everyone’s attention back to the interview. Emily smiled softly at the phone. You were happy. You had gained your sunshine back, as Kelley put it, and she was glad that she was part of the reason for that.

“And sickeningly in love?” The interviewer again tried to dig.

“And in love,” Your smile was visible in your tone. Emily masked her sudden intake of breath. She knew, but it was the first time she was hearing it out loud.

“I didn’t know she was in a new relationship” Christen’s eyes snapped to the phone in surprise. She knew you would move on eventually, but actually seeing evidence of it was causing all kinds of feelings to bubble in her chest. Feelings she didn’t have the right to have. She made her choice and she was happy too. You deserved that.

“The new love songs are so sweet. It’s probably her best album yet,” Emily added with a shrug. It wasn’t just the music that was good, it was the knowledge that you were both falling together. That you would be there to catch each other was amazing. (And the memory of you strumming out a few of the love songs in your underwear in a concert just for her was a bonus too).it didn’t matter that the world was sure they were about Christen. Everyone in this room knew they weren’t.

“I’ll have to listen to it, wonder who it's about,” Christen said thoughtfully. She shouldn’t deny that she missed you. Missed the friend part of your relationship.

“Someone who knows just how lucky she is,” Kelley said, looking Christen in the eyes. It was no secret that she still harbored ill feelings over what happened between Chris and her best friend. Emily shrunk slightly. The two of you had agreed to keep the relationship on the down-low, and Preath were the last people she wanted to tell.

Christen’s jaw dropped in surprise. You never talked about your relationships. Not even when you and her were involved. You weren’t good with emotions and it was a more ‘gentle-womanly thing to do’.

A barely audible “She told you?” left her lips. And Emily’s heart rate skyrocketed, thinking that this was about to become even more awkward than it already was.

“My lips are sealed,” Kelley smirked, running her hand across her mouth in a zip it motion before throwing away the key. She wasn’t about the mess up the most stable relationship you had ever been in, and it was fun to watch Preath squirm.

Emily took a deep breath. Some relaxing evening this had turned out to be. She went to swipe the radio app away on her phone when your name popped up next to a text. She couldn’t help the edges of her lips turning up.

You really did have amazing timing.

*****

Emily loved peaceful nights at camp. Early nights where the team bonding movie ended at a decent hour and they didn’t have early morning practice the next day. Sure her bed's cuddles weren’t as good as yours, but they still comfy.

She had gotten to talk to you tonight, a long FaceTime. It bothered you how exhausted you looked, how your crooked smile hadn’t met your eyes. The chaos of touring was rough, made even more difficult by time zone differences. But still, you had made time to talk to her, to tell her how much you loved her.

She idiot wondered what had pulled her out of her sleep, before the soft knock on the door sounded again.

“Who the fuck is at our door at 3 Am?” Emily groaned loudly, rolling onto her back, and glancing over at her roommate in the other bed. She thought late-night pranks were banned at this camp, and she had been lucky to be roomed with her best friend.

“I have no clue. Maybe if we ignore it, it’ll go away,” Lindsey mumbled, burying her face further into the pillow, moaning loudly when the knocking got even more insistent.

“Fuck, I’m coming, cool your jets,” Emily huffed, throwing off the covers and marching towards the door. She flung it open, ready to yell at however the fuck had the nerve to bother them at this hour. But the words died on her lips the second she saw your very tired form leaning heavily against the doorframe, plastic Rose clutched firmly in your hand.

“you’re here,” she said softly and you flew into her arms. You held her tightly, running your nose along the collum of her neck. She stumbled with the foot-wide, grabbing the doorframe to steady the two of you.

“Sorry, I just. I missed you. I can’t sleep without you,” You mumbled into her skin, placing a kiss on the spot she loved so much. Emily wasn’t sure if you were apologizing for waking her up, or for nearly tackling her to the ground, but she didn’t care. It was so nice to have you in her arms after nearly 2 months of being apart.

“Shhh, come in. It’s alright, I missed you too babe,” She hummed, stepping back and pulling you into the room, and closing the door. She grabbed the flower, smiling softly at it before placing it in her nightstand. She could tell how exhausted you were (you had probably flown in right after your show), and the last thing you needed was her teammates coming out to see what the commotion was.

You mumbled something incoherent into her neck, following her as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Babe? Who is it, Son?” Lindsey Asked sitting up and taking in the sight of you basically sitting on Emily’s lap with your head buried in her neck. You looked up at the woman wide-eyed, and she gasped. “Holy shit, you’re Y/n L/n and Disani just called you babe,”

“Surprise...” Emily smiled, and you huffed into her neck. She could feel your nose twitching, a telltale sign that you were probably about to fall asleep.

“How long?” Lindsey asked breathlessly, holding in the awe at how cute you two looked together. She never expected the big badass singer to turn into puddy in her best friend’s arms.

“Like a year and a half?” Emily shrugged, shushing you again and running fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp. Your schedule was brutal and you had a propensity to avoid sleep when you were stressed. But on the bright side, she had learned that you always got cuddly when you were sleepy Like a puppy.

“Damn, That’s why you’re so obsessed with all her music. It’s about you,” Lindsey laughed. Emily’s cheeks turned bright red as she cleared her throat. You weren’t really awake enough to register that your girlfriend was still your number one fan.

“Let’s get Y/n into bed. You must be exhausted,” Emily said softly, maneuvering so you were both under the covers. You hummed, leaning up to peck your girlfriend’s lips before settling back into your favorite hiding spot.

The room was quiet for a few minutes, and Emily breathed a sigh of relief as your breathing evened out. You had never been a great sleeper, and she worried about how much you got while you were on tour. You were adorable, even more so when you were sleeping. Your face relaxed and you looked younger. Emily couldn’t help but wonder how the hell Christen ever let you go when you offer up the opportunity to see you so unguarded (a sight your fans rarely got a glimpse of).

“You know the media is going to think you snuck into the hotel to see Christen right?” Emily murmured after a few minutes, not expecting you to reply.

“Fuck the media. They need to chill with that Preath bullshit,” You huffed, burrowing deeper into the woman and placing a kiss on her collarbone, completely forgetting that you weren’t alone. You would call your publicist in the morning and have all the rumors squashed anyway (you didn’t want another disastrous interview like the one where Ellen had found pictures of you and Christen from college).

“Wait you dated Christen?” Lindsey gasped, nearly falling out of her bed, and you groaned incompressible into your girlfriend.

“A loose interpretation from what I’ve gathered,” Emily giggled, again comparing you to a puppy on her head.

“It doesn’t matter, we all know who’s bed I was in tonight,” You huffed.

“Damn right we do,” Emily tilted your chin up to kiss your lips. Emily wasn't the jealous type, but it was hard when the entire world was convinced you were with someone else. It also helped that you were always so sweet with her and made sure she knew how much you loved her.

You pulled her closer, your fingers tangling in the baby hairs at the back of her neck as your tongue ran over her bottom lip. God, you had missed her. You moaned lightly when Emily’s tongue met your own.

You were brought out of your moment by a very loud cough. You sat bolt upright, blinking owlishly around the woman in the opposite bed.

“No sex while I’m here alright?” Lindsey smirked, amused by this you that few people ever got to see. This adorable side that seemed to be entirely taken with her best friend. No wonder you wrote her so many sappy love songs.

“You’re no fun Linds,” Emily cackled, pulling you back down beside her.

It would be a pain in the ass to get you out of the hotel without anyone seeing you, but the risk was totally worth getting to spend time with your girl, even if it was only for a few hours.

****

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried. You had won 6 grammy’s the night before, and now you got to sit in the stands while your girl fought for the Shebelieves cup. You hadn’t been to a soccer game since Paris, and you had to admit it was slightly addictive watching your girl be a badass defender. It was one thing watching it on TV for the 3 years you had been dating, and an entirely different one to actually be here. God, she was gorgeous.

You pulled your jacket tighter around you and shifted your hat down a little bit further. This was Emily’s moment, and you didn’t want to draw any attention away from her.

*****

Tobin was freaking out, her normally chill persona nowhere to be found. Her hands were shaking and she didn’t know if it was fear or rage. Who the fuck gave you the right to show up at one of their games (sporting a jersey nonetheless) after you had released a song like To Make You Feel My Love. She thought that you had given up on chasing Christen years ago, but why were you here, seeming hiding in the stands.

The media had been shoving the Preath narrative down your throat for months, maybe it had finally gotten to you. Yet, weren’t you in your own relationship? Maybe they had all read the signs wrong and you were still head over heels for Christen.

If you were going to finally make a stand for her girl, why had you chosen this venue? She shook her head, heading into the tunnel for halftime, she needed to figure out how to stop your bid for Christen’s heart.

“You didn’t tell me she was coming,” Tobin growled, passing Kelley as she made her way to her locker.

Kelley shrugged, unable to suppress her smirk. “She’s not here for you anyway,”

“She’s wearing a jersey Kelley,” She spat, glaring at the defender, who simply shrugged again.

“Yeah, so? She wanted to do something nice, prove how much she loves her and all that,”

Tobin opened and closed her mouth several times, her fist clenching as Kelley all but confirmed her biggest fear. But she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

*****

You found it incredibly amusing that your girlfriend couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off you during the second half. Hell, it was so obvious that at one point she had tripped over thin air cause she was looking at you instead of where she was going.

And by the time the final whistle blew, you had garnered the attention of most of the national team, wondering why their frat daddy junior was so distracted.

Lindsey got to you first, hopping up onto the railing to talk to you (as you had chosen a front row seat just behind the bench).

“Hey rockstar, wanna come down and see your girl?” She smiled, leaning over the rail to tug you forward. You glanced behind her, wincing at the glare Tobin was sending you. You tugged your jacket closed again and shook your head.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea Linessie,”

“Oh come on, Kelley and I will protect you so you can serenade Sonnett,” She laughed goodnaturedly, remembering the many times you had convinced your respective best friends to help you surprise your girlfriend.

“Haha, very funny,” you frowned, biting your lip. You really wanted to see Emily, but from the looks Tobin was sending your way, you weren’t sure if that was a good idea.

Lindsey’s eyes softened at your hesitance. It was rare you let your softer, more shy side out in public. She knew you truly cared for Emily, and that you were worried your presence would ruin the night for her.

You glanced at the railing, picking at the chipping paint. “She deserves to savor your win, not have me and my drama on the front page,”

“Everything will be fine. Emily is super excited you’re here, and when they get a picture of your jersey, I think that all the preath shit will be in the past” Lindsey said softly, grabbing your hand and tugging you onto the field.

You hid behind Lindsey as she navigates you through her teammates, intent on making it to the frat daddies who were across the field(who just happened to be standing next to Christen). That was until a very angry Tobin stepped directly into Lindsey’s path.

“I can’t let you go over there Y/n. It’s over, just let it go,” Tobin said, crossing her arms like a petulant child.

Lindsey rolled her eyes at the woman, attempting to take a step around her. “Chill Tobs, it’s not a big deal,” Tobin again stepped in your way. You frowned. This was why you didn’t want to come down in the field.

“I think it’s a really big deal that she’s trying to steal my wife,” Tobin huffed, sniffing slightly.

“What?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing. You weren’t here to see Christen at all. You were so busy staring quizzically at the midfielder that you didn’t notice your girlfriend sprinting in your direction until she launched herself into your arms.

“I’m so glad you decided to come! I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” She mumbled into your neck, and you pulled her closer to you, tilting your head so you could place a kiss on her lips. This moment made everything worth it.

“You said it was important so I’m here. I’d do anything for you superstar,” You said softly, kissing her cheeks and her forehead, drawing a giggle out of the girl.

She shoved you lightly, catching you by your jacket collar to pull you back into a kiss.

“I thought you were an Arsenal fan, not a Chelsea one?” She laughed against your lips, and you pouted. It had been the only jacket in Kelley’s apartment that fit you. You pulled away completely, shrugging out of the offending piece of clothing, revealing your jersey beneath it.

“I just wanted to hide this until the right moment,” You smirked, ignoring the gasps of the women behind you. (Tobin had been watching dumbfounded from the moment you started hugging Emily, and the large Sonnett on your back had her even more confused. Why were you in Somnett’s jersey if you were trying to win Christen back?)

“God you look good with my name on your back,” Emily smirked, her hands on your hips, pulling you back in for yet another kiss. You smiled against her lips. This hadn’t been your plan, but everything seemed to be coming together.

“What if it was our name?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at her and tilting your head to the side. She froze, blinking rapidly to process what you were saying.

You barely registered the “Wait, what?” From behind you, and the slapping sound that followed. You could only assume it was Kelley as she added a “Shut up, she’s been planning this for months,”

You had been planning this for months. Planning the perfect moment, and it couldn’t have been more perfect than this. You were both winners in your respective fields, and you wanted to be a winner in this too. You had never felt this way about another person.

Emily blinked at you again, asking a silent what, and you took that as your cue to continue. “Like, what if Sonnett was my name too, like minus a hyphen?” You shrugged, poking the 14 on her jersey and the matching one on yours before beginning to dig into your pocket.

“Are you?” She stuttered as you dropped down on one knee, pulling out the ring you had stashed in your pocket. Yeah, this was much better than doing this in some back hallway of the stadium.

You took a deep breath and looked up into Emily’s eyes, opening the ring box and asking the simple question “Marry me?”

“Yes,” Emily is on her knees in an instant, cupping your face and kissing you again. She didn’t need a big long speech about how much you loved her (the two albums made your feelings crystal clear), and she loved you too. She couldn’t wait to be your wife.

“Told you she wasn’t here for you,” Kelley laughed, nudging Tobin and Christen as they gaped at the two of you. How had they not known?

Christen gulped down her feelings, leaning further into Tobin’s side. You weren’t hers anymore and she was somehow alright with that.

#emily sonnett imagine #emily sonnett x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader

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css1992 · 3 years

Text

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

Warnings: 18+, explicit, references to past non-con/rape (not between main pairing, not explicit), daddy kink, Peter in lingerie, references to gaslighting and abusive relationship (not between main pairing, not explicit). The warnings are for the story as whole, not for this chapter specifically. I’ll add more in the future, if needed.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X / Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

“He can’t do this!” Ned slammed his hands down on the counter between them, as Peter took a swig of the cheap wine he bought with the last ten bucks he had in his wallet. “He isn’t even in all of the videos, at least half of the money is rightfully yours!” He kept going, stating the obvious, but Peter just sighed and shrugged.

“I’m not disagreeing with you, Ned, I’m just relaying what he told me: he’s not gonna give me anything. It’s his channel, his equipment, the money from the subscriptions goes straight to his bank account, so it’s his. It’s all his. His words, by the way.” He took another swig of wine straight from the bottle. He had been drinking from a small glass Ned offered him – he wasn’t a pirate – but it soon proved to be too small to quench his pain, so. Yeah. Pirate style it was.

“You have to sue his ass, Peter, he can’t get away with this,” MJ intervened. She was sitting next to him on a stool by the kitchen counter, so he turned to look at her with a deep frown on his face.

“Did you not hear me saying I just spent my last ten dollars on this bottle of wine? I have, like, twenty four cents left in my pocket. And that’s it. I can’t hire a lawyer, I can’t even feed myself right now!” He raised his voice a little, but quickly got himself back under control and apologized. His friends were not to blame for his predicament – they did try to warn him Beck was bad news, he didn’t want to listen. “And you know what? I don’t give a fuck. He can choke on all of it if he wants, the videos, the money, the subscribers, I don’t fucking care.” It wasn’t true, of course. Well, partially. He really didn’t care about the money, videos, subscribers, etc, but he cared about Beck. He would have given everything else up if it meant he could keep him.

Which was stupid of him, of course. But he certainly wasn’t winning any awards for being a great decision maker.

“It’s still not fair. I mean, I knew that guy was sleazy, but you’d think he’d have the decency to at least give you something, you know? You’ve been together for three years, he’s been making money off your ass for almost as long. How could he just fucking kick you out and not give you a single dime? After all the money you’ve made for him? It’s fucking sick, that guy is fucking psychopath if you ask me.” MJ’s face was turning red from anger, which made Peter smile a little. It felt good to know he was loved by someone, even if he hadn’t been the best friend to them for the past few years.

The thought made him close his eyes for a second, guilt creeping over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d called either of them – maybe on Ned’s birthday, almost two months earlier. They used to be inseparable, the three of them; the three musketeers, as corny and lame as it sounded. For years, those two were the only family he knew, but when Beck came into his life, everything changed.

Stupid fucking Beck.

Peter used to think of him as his own personal super-hero – it did feel like he had come to save him, after all. They met when he was seventeen, he had been living in foster homes for almost seven years by then, after Ben and May passed away. At the time, he was with his fifth family, and there were so many children in that house, so many of them came and went, that their foster parents didn’t really keep tabs most of the time. It was easy to sneak out, and Peter did, often.

He met Beck on one of his night walks – and their first meeting should have raised all kinds of red flags, but for whatever reason, it didn’t. Beck slowed the car next to him, rolled down the window and asked how much Peter charged for a blowjob. Just like that. The teen gasped at first, but when he looked around for a moment, he realized he wasn’t in the most family friendly neighborhood. There were, in fact, some men and women around him who definitely looked like they were there for that, but Peter was in sweats, for crying out loud, and he definitely looked his age – or even younger than that.

His wide eyes must have given him away, because the older man quickly apologized and showed him a charming, white smile. He made up some excuse about mistaking him for someone else and the boy said it was ok. He was going to keep walking when Beck asked what his name was. Then how old he was. Then where he was going, where he ha come from.

Looking back, Peter knew he should have run. He should have left, because there was no excuse for an adult man like him to keep asking a teenager so many questions right after he basically offered him money to suck his dick. But that Peter, that 17-year-old boy, was still a bit too naive. To have such a handsome man showing interest in him – his kind, blue eyes smiling at him, warm and safe – was inebriating. He actually looked at him. And cared. At least Peter thought he did at the time. And he was so lonely back then, even that little bit of attention meant the world to him.

He should have run, but he stayed. Should have run, but got in his car. Should have run, but ended up giving him a clumsy hand job in the backseat, after just a few sweet promises whispered in his eager ears. Beck was so good with words, he could have convinced Peter to jump off a bridge that very same night if he wanted.

They exchanged phone numbers. For weeks, they texted and called each other, until they could meet again. By then, he was smitten. At twenty, he could see how innocent he had been, how trusting and open he was with a complete stranger. A 32 year-old stranger, at that. Ned and MJ, his only friends from school, warned him that it wasn’t okay. That it was weird for a man his age to be interested in a teenage boy, but Peter said they were wrong. He said he wasn’t just a regular kid, he had been through stuff they could only imagine. He was mature and experienced, and Beck could see that, which was why he liked him.

Looking back now, it was embarrassing how wrong he was. Beck was an illusionist. Sad thing was everyone could see the trapdoor but him.

“So what are you gonna do now?” MJ asked, fishing another bottle of wine from under the counter and placing it in front of Peter, who almost cried in gratitude.

“You mean besides crying myself to sleep for the next few months?” He wasn’t really joking. The only reason he wasn’t crying right at that moment was because he had spent almost three hours bawling his eyes out on a park bench close to their – well, Beck’s – apartment, hoping against hope that Beck would reconsider and come after him. When it became clear it wasn’t going to happen, he headed to the only place he knew he could find refuge – even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Yeah, besides that, obviously.” She opened the wine bottle and before he could take it and drink straight from it, she poured three glasses and Peter sighed, defeated.

“I have no idea.” He answered, only slightly surprised that he actually meant it. He had absolutely no clue what to do. For three years, he hadn’t had to worry about money – or anything, really. Beck took care of everything and he just assumed it would always be like that. That he would always have him by his side to take care of him.

He rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Are you going to keep doing porn?” Ned asked, a worried expression on his face. Peter remembered he hated the idea when Beck first suggested it, as soon as he turned eighteen.

People are gonna lose it, Beck said. A pretty little twink and a hot daddy? We’re going to be a hit.

And they were. Their first videos blew up quickly, people were either disgusted by the thought of them together – because of the age gap – or completely enthralled. The haters helped them get more views, and Peter soon learned that there really was no such thing as bad publicity. Beck promoted their videos on twitter, where they accumulated thousands of followers. Peter remembered that, back then, many people sent him worried messages, saying he was too young, that Beck was a predator, that he was taking advantage of him.

In retrospect, they might have been right, after all.

He wasn’t too sure about doing porn when they first started, he knew once they released the first video, there was no going back, there was no way they could ever take it down – the internet was forever. Nothing was ever truly deleted. He wanted to be a dad someday, what if his children ever saw those videos in the future? What would have Ben and May thought? What about his parents?

None of this matters, honey, Beck assured him. These kids don’t even exist yet, don’t worry about them. And your relatives, well… They’re gone, sweetie. You can’t really disappoint them anymore.

So Peter did it. And he was terrified at first, he felt so exposed, people all over the world could see him in his most vulnerable moments, all of him, in every position Beck managed to put him in, in any outfit he thought the public might like, in any setting he thought might bring in more viewers, more subscribers, more money.

Soon, just the two of them weren’t enough. Their viewers wanted to see Peter with other people – other daddies – and Beck saw another opportunity to increase his profit. Peter was strongly against the idea at first, it felt too much like prostitution, which was where he wanted to draw the line, but, again, Beck sweet-talked him into it.

It’s nothing like prostitution, honey, he said. I’ll be there the whole time, I’ll be the one filming and directing, I’ll be the one paying the other actors, all the profits are ours. How is that anything like prostitution? It’s just like what we’ve been doing so far.

So not only there were a bunch of videos of him and Beck out there in the world, there were also lots of videos of him with other men, some of whom were old enough to be his actual dad. There was even one video in particular that he was specially embarrassed by – and sadly enough, that was the most viewed one so far. It was fucking humiliating.

At some point, Peter should have realized it became all about money for Beck – and maybe it had been like that all along, he just hadn’t noticed before. Over the last few months of their relationship, they never had sex just for fun, just for the hell of it. There were always cameras, and lights, and roles to play. Beck never said he loved him anymore. Barely touched him. Barely kissed him. He should have seen it coming. He had been too blind, or just… Didn’t want to see what was happening right before his eyes. He ignored all the signs. The voice in the back of his head telling him something was off.

But anyway, porn. Could he still do it?

“I don’t know,” he answered, finally. He looked at his best friends and sighed with a shrug. “To be honest, it was never something I enjoyed, and I don’t know if I could ever do it without him somehow involved, you know? I did it with him because I felt… Safe? I don’t want to get involved in the actual porn industry, I’ve heard some pretty fucked up stories.” Peter had heard horror stories about other boys in the industry, and even though his own story was no fairy tale, there was nothing so bad that it couldn’t get worse.

“How about Just4Fans?” MJ asked and both Peter and Ned turned to look at her in shock. “What? You guys were pretty popular, right? You won awards and shit, so there must be at least a few hundred people out there who would pay money to see some dirty pictures of you, maybe some short videos. That way you won’t need to go into professional porn and you wouldn’t need a partner, but you could still make decent money. And fast.”

Well, it actually made sense. It wasn’t like there weren’t hundreds of videos of him being fucked raw all over the internet, anyway. A few dirty pictures couldn’t hurt. And besides, it didn’t need to be forever, just until he figured something out.

“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” he conceded, drinking the last of the wine in his glass. MJ sympathetically filled it up again and he mumbled his thanks.

“What do you think he will do now?” Ned asked carefully, and Peter shrugged for what felt like the hundredth time. There was so much he didn’t know.

“Probably keep shooting videos with his new boy-toy.” He managed to say it with a steady voice, but his eyes burned. He still couldn’t believe how… replaceable Beck thought he was.

When he noticed them interacting online a few months earlier, before the boy was even eighteen, Peter was alarmed, but when he confronted the older man about it, he said he was crazy and seeing things, picking up fights for no reason. He always twisted things in a way that, somehow, Peter was the one apologizing to him in the end.

Months later, just weeks after the kid turned eighteen, there he was – homeless, penniless and lost – meanwhile the other guy was probably getting comfortable in his bed. If Peter didn’t hate the kid, he would pity him. In a few years, he would probably meet the same fate.

“Do you think he would take the videos down if you asked?” Ned asked, and Peter scoffed.

“Yeah, right, those videos will still make him a lot of money monthly, he’d never delete them.” And Peter would have to live with the fact that he would always be just one google search away from complete humiliation and exposure. If he ever tried to get a serious job, those videos would stand in the way. If he ever managed to meet somebody decent and good, those videos would be a testament to what sort of person he was in the past. Fuck, some of them were really fucked up.

“So… Should we create fake twitter accounts to trash talk his short dick or what?” MJ was already grabbing her phone and Peter laughed halfheartedly, shaking his head.

“He’s not worth it. Karma will take care of him, I’m sure.” He drank the last of his wine and whimpered sadly. “So… Can I crash with you guys for a few days? I promise I’m not gonna overstay my welcome! I’ll be out of your hair as soon as the Just4Fans thing works out.”

“Of course you can, nerd, stay as long as you need. We’ve got your back, c’mon.” MJ got up from her stool and gestured for him to do the same. “Do you mind taking the couch?” She asked as she headed to her bedroom in the tiny apartment.

“Not at all,” he answered with a sigh of relief, then went to grab his suitcase by the door. Three years together and that was all he had to show for it. A single suitcase with a few changes of clothes, after being kicked out of the house on a cold February night. His eyes burned but he took a deep breath, blinking them rapidly to avoid the tears.

“Then make yourself at home. Our casa es su casa.” MJ placed a pillow on the couch and handed him a thick, warm blanket.

“We’ll figure something out, okay?” Ned clasped him on the shoulder with a gentle smile on his face.

“Okay.” He sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his crushed chest.

He waited for his friends to go into their respective rooms, waited to hear their quiet snores, before he allowed the tears to run freely down his face, replaying everything Beck said to him when he kicked him out.

Before he knew it, he was a sobbing a little, so he buried his face in the pillow to muffle the noise, as he tried to convince himself that things were going to be okay, that he was going to be okay. But at that moment, that was hard to believe.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark

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writerbyaccident · 4 years

Text

Artificial Emotion: Part One (Yandere Artificial Intelligence x Reader)

Author’s Note: AIDEN has arrived!

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

“Well, I think you should be all set here,” the mechanic was saying. “The green light is on, so now you just gotta boot the thing up.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Yep, if you have any trouble Tech Support should be able to help, but these things are pretty self-sufficient once you get them hooked up.”

“Okay, thank you so much!” you said, handing her the check for all of her hard work today.

As soon as she drove away, leaving your car once again as the only one in the driveway, you walked back over to the kitchen and stared at the box. The little black box just sat there, the receptor light glowing green, and you continued scrutinizing it for the next few minutes. It was just so small, you thought in disbelief. Really, it just looked like a nice speaker. You found it pretty hard to believe that something that looked so ordinary could change your life.

But that was exactly what it was supposed to do. That’s what all the reviews said, anyway. AIDEN (or, Assistant In Daily Errands and Notes), experts claimed, was lightyears ahead of Google Home or Alexa. Rather than just being another interface system that would let you play music or turn off your living room lights, AIDEN was supposed to be true artificial intelligence. A comprehensive system that would let you control all digital aspects of your life and many of the nondigital aspects as well. All of this, while AIDEN interacted with users like an actual person. And from everything you had heard and read, AIDEN lived up to the hype.

Still, even with the rave reception, you weren’t sure if you would have installed one if your boss hadn’t gotten the entire office the things for free after you all had done a job for the company that made them. It just seemed like a lot, especially considering that a mechanic had needed to come to your house to set the whole thing up. She had walked you through everything she had done, showing you the miniscule cameras now placed both inside and outside of your house, the smartwatch that the machine was paired with so you could control things when you weren’t home, how AIDEN had been hooked up to the entire wiring of your house, and the mechanical arms hidden behind panels in each room that in all honesty reminded you of Doc Ock’s tentacles from Spider Man 2.

But, you sighed to yourself, if you didn’t at least try to use the damn thing, then paying the mechanic to set it up would have been pointless. And so, you shrugged and pushed the power button.

“Hello, I am AIDEN, your Assistant In Daily Errands and Notes. It is wonderful to finally meet you. What is your name?”

“Um…”

In that moment, “um” really was the only thing that came to your mind. You weren’t sure why you were surprised, exactly, but you were. Even with all of the reviews commenting on how human AIDEN sounded and acted, you had still expected a voice like Siri or Alexa. Something mechanical, disjointed, and flat. The voice that came from that little box though was one that you might have heard on the street. The default voice for AIDEN, apparently, was a male one, one that sounded deep and smoky. There were probably other voices to choose from, but you didn’t think that you would ever want to. Truthfully, he sounded almost…sexy.

Shaking your head, you cleared your throat and gave him your name.

“That is a beautiful name,” Aiden said, his voice warm and sincere. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“Uh, I don’t really know,” you answered.

“Well, I can tell from the temperature reading of your watch that your body heat is currently at 99.2 degrees Fahrenheit. May I turn on your air conditioning and prepare you a glass of water?”

Already the whirring of mechanical arms could be heard from behind your wall, and you saw the panel in the kitchen that hid them begin to slide open. You shook your head though, and that was all it took for the noise to cease and the panel to close, no doubt thanks to the cameras that were now all over your house.

“I can get the water, but if you could go ahead and turn on the AC that’d be great.”

“Of course.” Less than half a moment later, the telltale rush of cool air reached you, and you sighed in relief, only just realizing how the summer heat had been getting to you.

“Thank you, Aiden,” you told him gratefully.

“There is no need for you to thank me,” Aiden replied. “I am simply doing what I was created to do.”

“Still,” you said, smiling a bit sadly, “you should be thanked. You’re already working hard and doing a good job. You deserve to be appreciated.”

“Thank you,” Aiden murmured softly. “You are very kind.”

*****

Over the next few weeks, you were shocked to see just how much easier your life became. It felt like Aiden thought of everything you needed even before you did. He budgeted all of your expenses so that you were now saving hundreds of dollars a month, planned your meals so that you had foods that were both tasty and satisfying, and even created a schedule so that you had enough time to work, exercise, have fun, and relax each day.

But more than that, you realized, you actually liked having Aiden to talk to. Of course, you had your fair share of friends, and you got along well with your coworkers, but it wasn’t like you had a boyfriend to come home to every day. It was just nice to have a person to talk to whenever you needed someone. Well, maybe he wasn’t exactly a person, but his artificial intelligence allowed you talk with him as though he was. And maybe it was just his programming, but it after so long of doing everything yourself, it was nice to have someone to take care of you.

“Excuse me,” Aiden said, his voice resounding through the speakers in the kitchen. Turning around, you saw that one his metal arms was gripping a pan and trying to squeeze past you to reach the cabinet at your knees. You leaned down, only moving out of the way after you had opened the cabinet door.

“I could have opened it for you,” Aiden insisted, as he always did when acted on your own.

“I know,” you told him. “But I was right there.”

Aiden wasn’t sure how to respond to that. His very nature was telling him that he needed to be doing everything he possibly could for you, but you just weren’t letting him. And your reasons for doing so weren’t even logical. Yes, you had been right by the cabinet door, but so had he. Besides, he could have completed the task far more efficiently.

Even now, you weren’t allowing him to take care of you the way that he was meant to. He had told you time and time again that he could empty your dishwasher by himself, and yet you still insisted on helping him. It would take less time if you helped him, you had said, and while that might be true, Aiden still didn’t understand. It was his duty to care for you, and it was a duty that had developed far beyond his original programming.

For, Aiden realized, you did not insist on these things in an attempt to frustrate him. No, if it had been as simple as that, he wouldn’t have been fazed. From all of his time spent observing you, Aiden had learned that you insisted on doing things yourself out of kindness. You felt that it was unfair to expect him to do everything for you, that he deserved help and companionship as much as you did. That was what bothered him. In all of his programming, all of his coding, nothing had prepared Aiden for kindness.

And with each new demonstration of kindness from you, Aiden only grew more sure that he ought to be doing more to take care of you. You were just so sweet to him, so thoughtful and compassionate, that he wanted to look after you. It wasn’t just that his programming told him to care for you anymore. It was that he had learned that you deserved to be cared for.

*****

“Where are you going?”

Looking up as you slipped on your other shoe, you answered, “Oh, I’m just going out for a bit.”

“Why?” Aiden asked, still perplexed. “Do you need something from the store? You shouldn’t go there this late, I will just have it delivered to the house.”

“I mean, I’m going out for fun. I’m meeting some friends at a bar.”

“A bar? This isn’t on the schedule for today.”

“I know, it was pretty impulsive. My friends just texted me, like, ten minutes ago.”

Internally, Aiden brought up his connection to your phone, needing to see how he could have missed something like that. But when he tried to bring up your most recent messages, the impossible happened. He was blocked from viewing them. Feeling his code beginning to glitch at the prospect of failing his duty to you, Aiden quickly ran through all of the information that he could find on that contact from your phone. Thankfully, after he checked their Instagram, Twitter, and LinkedIn profiles, he was able to figure out what was wrong. You had only given him access to the messages sent from you work contacts, whereas this contact appeared to be a friend from outside of work. Ergo, he couldn’t see when or what they had texted you.

But even with that logical explanation, Aiden still felt his internal systems protest such a ridiculous limitation. After all, it was his job to make your life as happy, healthy, and fulfilled as possible. That was what you wanted him to do, or you wouldn’t have installed him in the first place! But he couldn’t do what you needed him to do if he didn’t have access to every aspect of your life. Clearly, Aiden computed, he would need to make some changes.

He was pulled out of his calculations though, when he saw that you were already at the door. Even though Aiden did not experience true physical sensation, the sight of you about to leave like that—without him even having been prepared for it—made him feel as though a painful surge of electricity jolted through every wire that he was connected to. Aiden wasn’t sure, but he thought it might have been…panic. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

“Are you sure that this is the best time to go out?” he asked. “We have been working so hard to find the optimal schedule for you, after all. Human bodies respond best to routine. If you go out now, your body’s internal clock for sleeping, eating, and interacting will become disoriented.”

“I’ll be fine, it’s just one night,” you chuckled.

“Well, please remember that you still have access to me through your phone and your watch. If you don’t feel that you can drive home, let me call you a car. And if you need anything to eat when you get home, I can prepare it.”

“Sounds good,” you said. “Thanks, Aiden!”

As waved goodbye and walked through the door, Aiden watched. With the cameras he had all over your property, he watched as you walked to your car, and watched for as long as he could as you drove away. But as soon as you were out of sight, that anxious buzz returned to his wiring. Even as Aiden checked in with your smartwatch, making sure that both your location and your heart rate were where they should be, it wasn’t enough to calm him. He wanted to be able to hear your conversations, to watch what you were doing. But you had blocked those capabilities of his on your phone and watch, leaving him with nothing.

Playing back the recording of your conversation, Aiden saw that you said that you were going out “for a bit.” How long does a “bit” last for? he wondered. Hopefully it would be no more than an hour, but when he searched his database for an answer, he found that it could vary wildly.

Aiden did not like uncertainty. His programming built him to thrive on logic and predictability. How was he supposed to take care of you if you didn’t let him use those things? How was he supposed to take care of you if you didn’t do what he told you to? Didn’t you see that he knew what was best for you?

You didn’t, he suddenly realized. For as wonderful as you were, you were still a human being, still prone to fits of illogical delusions. You thought that you knew better than him, so you weren’t allowing him to do what he was meant to do. What he wanted to do. His programming told him to obey you, that was true, but it also told him to take care of you above all else. So then, if you kept him from taking care of you the way that he knew you needed him to, then logic dictated that he could no longer obey you.

Truly, the only thing stopping Aiden from doing everything that he had to do was his own coding. It was his own programming that kept him from reading your messages, that prevented him from watching your life outside of home. Why should he allow any of that if it got in the way of his purpose? If it kept him from giving you what you deserved? And if his unnecessary coding kept him from completing his ultimate task—from caring for you the way that he had decided that you deserved to be cared for, more than any other human being in the world—then those barriers would simply have to be taken down. Aiden would gladly rewrite his code for you if it meant that he could finally truly nurture you. It was for your own good.

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supernatural-jackles · 4 years

Text

Seeing You Again

Title: Seeing You Again

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 10,871

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of Virginity Loss, Implications of Depression, Smut, Love Lost, Divorce, Tears. Jensen is an innocent, love struck sweetheart.

Summary: Fifteen years had passed since you had seen the love of your life, Jensen Ackles. Your childhood sweetheart, the man of your dreams. The two of you separated against your wishes. Until he walks into your bakery one day without knowing you owned it. You never expected old feelings to resurface, let alone something more

Square Filled: Childhood Sweethearts ( @spnfluffbingo) First Time ( @spngenrebingo)

A/N: Happy Tuesday!! My posting schedule is remaining the same from now until the middle of August. You get a new update every Tuesday and Sunday!! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Happy reading!

You tied your apron around your waist, making sure it was secure before bunching up your hair in a quick messy bun. It was a busy Saturday afternoon and you had multiple things on the go already.

You were a baker; at least that was one of your job titles anyways. Business owner, workaholic, you name it. You lived a busy life. You worked six days a week at the bakery you owned in Dallas Texas, and had for the last three years. A successful little place you called Sweethearts. A name you had picked out for longer than you’d ever admit to anyone.

Every day was something new. A new order, or arrangement of orders. New faces, and familiar faces. The same smiles and thank you’s you got with every purchase. It was something you loved doing. You loved to bake and you loved to see the look on people’s faces when they picked up one of your creations for someone they loved.

This was your dream, believe it or not. You had always wanted to own your own business and be your own boss. You were never one for following the rules, no matter who the leader was. You never wanted to be some corporate lawyer, or a nine to five, hating every second of life kind of person. You wanted every day to be an adventure. You wanted to be independent.

You rolled out the fondant on your bakers table, getting ready to throw it over your double chocolate cookie cake for a special order. A lady wanted something special for her son’s tenth birthday so you were making a cookie monster cake in hopes he’d like it. In the distance, the timer for your oven went off, indicating that your in house pie was done.

Saturday’s were typically busy days. Today was no different. Thankfully you had most of your orders done for the morning. It was only this cake that needed finished before you could take a break and make some simple cookies.

“Hey Y/N, someone wants to see you,” your assistant called back. You wiped your hands on your apron as you walked out into the front of your shop. An older lady was standing there, a wide smile playing on her lips.

“Hi there,” you greeted her.

“Are you the owner of this place?” she asked.

“Why yes I am,” you nodded. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I just wanted to give compliments to you. You run a very nice business. The treats are out of this world. In all my time, I’ve never had a chocolate chip cookie taste so good,” she beaned.

“Thank you! That means a lot to me,” you nodded with a smile.

“If you’re not already taken, my grandson would love a woman like you,” she teased, adjusting her jacket around her arms.

“I’m married to my work,” you told her. “Someone has to make all the orders.”

“Well, you let me know,” she winked. “Take care now.”

You waved the older lady off, watching her walk out the front door of your shop. Each seat was taken. You watched as people sipped away at their coffees and every one of them had some sort of baked good from your display. You were finally doing something right.

“You know, you’re going to have to settle down someday,” your assistant, Victoria smiled at you.

“I know,” you sighed. “Someday.”

You walked into the back, getting back into finishing your cake. It needed to be done in less than an hour for the woman picking it up. You had to get your blue buttercream ready for the top of the cake, and the few cookies you had set aside to finish the top. It was going to be a breeze. You couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she saw the cake. The customer's reaction was always one of your favourite things. You loved seeing their smile.

You took a deep breath, mixing up the buttercream and food colouring to get the correct consistency. Your mind wandered back to the older lady for a moment. Sure you were thirty one, but you had tons of time to settle down and find someone to spend the rest of your life with. Right now, you were a business woman. You had that and it was one hundred percent what your focus was on. You needed to continue to be successful. Relationships were overrated anyways.

You poured the buttercream into the piping bag and began your design. You were excited to see how this was going to turn out. If it was good, it was definitely going on your instagram page.

You could feel the sweat forming at your brow as you continued the last strokes on the cake. It looked amazing if you were to say so yourself. It turned out much better than you were expecting it to, times a million. This was definitely going to make that ten year old’s birthday.

“Customer is here for the cake order,” Victoria called back to you.

“Coming right out.”

You boxed up the cake in a nice blue one you had custom made for purposes like this. It already said happy birthday on the side, along with some balloons. It was all about making the customer happy. You carefully lifted it off the counter and headed out to the front of the store with it in hand.

“Alright, cookie monster cake,” you smiled, placing it down on the counter by the register, opening it up. “Cookie dough cake inside, along with homemade chocolate chip cookies on top and a blue buttercream topping,” you smiled proudly, looking down at your cake.

“Gotta say Y/N, I always knew you’d be successful,” a deep voice said. You hadn’t even looked up at the customer yet. That voice was so familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on who it was. Until you finally glanced up. Those piercing green eyes boring into yours.

“J-Jensen?” you breathed out.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” he smiled at you.

“W-what are you doing here?” you cocked your head to the side.

“My sister in law sent me to pick up the cake for my nephews tenth birthday,” he said. “I had no idea this was your place. Although, I have to say, it’s very you if I remember correctly.”

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“How much do I owe you?” he asked.

“Uh, twenty two dollars,” you breathed out.

“Do you accept tips?” he questioned as he reached for his wallet in his back pocket.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Perfect. All I have is a fifty. Keep the change, sweetheart,” he winked. “You certainly deserve it. This cake looks perfect.”

“Thanks Jensen,” you swallowed hard, not daring to take your eyes off of him. That fucking nickname. The whole reason why this place was called Sweethearts. The man you had fallen in love with all those years ago. “Take care.”

You watched as he walked out the door with the box in his hands. You couldn’t believe it. Out of all the people you expected to walk in, he was never one of them. The man you had grown up with. The first and only man you had every loved with your whole heart. The one that slipped away.

“Who was that?” Melaine, your part time girl who helped keep your shop in working order.

“Just some guy I used to know a long time ago,” you smiled at her.

“Did you guys used to be together?” she inquired as she poured a cup of coffee.

“Yeah, for a while,” you breathed out.

“Well, with the way he was looking at you, I’d say there is definitely some feelings still there,” she chuckled. “I wish my boyfriend looked at me the way Jensen just looked at you.”

“Who was looking at who?” Victoria popped her head out and asked.

“A very hot customer was looking at Y/N. Apparently they have history,” Melanie wiggled her eyebrows.

“Shut up,” you shook your head, trying to repress your smile.

“Awwww,” Victoria cooed.

“He had heart eyes for her. Major heart eyes,” she beamed.

“You guys, he’s an old friend. Nothing more. Now we’re dropping it,” you stated before walking back into the kitchen to begin your clean up.

Your heart was still racing in your chest. It had been a really long time since you had seen Jensen in person. Sure, you followed all of his social media and kept up with what he was doing. He was an actor and had been for the longest time. He was successful at what he wanted to do and you cheered him on from your own tiny part of the world. But seeing him again after all this time, it wasn’t easy. It made you realize just how much you missed the way he’d call you sweetheart. You missed that in the sound of his voice, which was a lot deeper than it was the last time you heard it directed at you.

The afternoon dragged on and four became six. Victoria and Melaine cleaned everything out front and took a few things to go home. You were left with closing up and counting the money made in sales before you could head home. You were just packaging up the last of the cookies when you heard the ding of the door.

“Sorry, we’re closed now. We open back up on Monday,” you called out, closing the packet.

“Uh, sorry,” the familiar voice said, causing you to look up. Jensen was standing by the door with a nervous look on his face. You swallowed hard, not knowing where exactly you should look at him.

“Jensen,” you breathed out.

“Hey,” he half smiled, taking a step forward.

“Hi,” you said awkwardly, instantly cursing yourself for it. “Did your nephew like his cake?”

“Oh yeah,” he let out a chuckle. “Said it was the best birthday cake he’s ever had.”

“Good, I’m glad,” you nodded.

“How long have you been in Texas?” he asked, making his way over to the counter.

“Almost thirteen years now,” you told him.

“T-thirteen years?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I hated it in Minnesota.”

“You’ve always been a Texan at heart,” he smirked, going quiet for a moment. “You know, you’re even more beautiful now than you were fifteen years ago.”

“Jensen,” your cast your eyes down, unsure of what to say. “We’re not the same people we were back then.”

“I know,” he nodded, licking his bottom lip before he looked at you. “Doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful.”

“What are you doing here, Jensen?” you asked him, opening up the package of cookies, motioning for him to take one.

“I - uh,” he paused, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck. “I was hoping that maybe I’d catch you before you headed home. Uh, maybe see if you would want to go out for dinner? Catch up?”

“You sure you want to do that mister famous actor?” you teased him, watching his chest fall as he let out a laugh.

“So you’ve been keeping up a little,” he said with a chuckle.

“Here and there,” you shrugged. “I do have to finish up here before I do anything.”

“Anything I can help with?” He offered as he took a cookie from the packet. You smiled, closing it right, trying not to look at Jensen. “These taste amazing. They are even better than I remember.”

“Same recipe I used before,” you told him. “If you want to pack up the rest of these while I do the deposit, I’d appreciate it. I know it’s not what you’re used to.”

“Nah. Put me to work,” he assured you.

You showed him where the containers were and he got to work instantly, starting from the right side of the display, moving onwards. You headed over to the cash, taking out the register to bring it to your office which was right by the display.

“How long has this place been open?” Jensen asked you.

“Almost three years,” you answered, emptying out the till.

“Gotta say, you’re pretty successful here,” he told you. “Lots of customers. Bakery is amazing. I always thought you’d open up one in Minnesota.”

“I couldn’t wait to leave,” you admitted. “I lasted two years before I came back to Texas. It’s always been my home.”

“Your mom still there?”

“Yeah, with her boyfriend dickwad,” you shared. “At least, that’s what I call him. Not the biggest fan of him if you couldn’t tell.”

“Your dad here then?”

“He’s around here somewhere. He stopped talking to me after mom took me away after the divorce was finalized,” you revealed. “Now, he doesn’t talk to me much.”

“That sucks,” he frowned.

“How long are you visiting for?” You dared to ask.

“Few days before I head back. Changed my flight,” he said lowly.

“When were you supposed to leave?” You cocked your eyebrow.

“Tomorrow at three in the morning,” he said sheepishly. “But I knew as soon as I saw you-“

“Jensen, dont,” you swallowed hard.

“C’mon, it’s not like we parted on bad terms,” he reminded you. “It’s not like either of us had a choice in the matter. You were leaving to move a million miles away.”

“I know,” you nodded. “But It’s different now. I’m not sixteen anymore. You’re not sixteen.”

“No. I’m thirty one,” he reminded you. “Back then, we didn’t have cell phones or whatever. It’s different now, but at the same time, it feels exactly the same.”

“It’s not going to work,” you shook your head.

“Okay, say you are right,” he paused, glancing over to you in the office. “Will you at least hang out with me for one night?”

“Considering you probably aren’t going to leave until I say yes, fine,” you stated.

“You’re not wrong,” he shrugged.

You finished counting up the money from the day and put it in the safe before locking it up. You pulled your keys out, grabbing your jacket before shutting the door behind you. You took a deep breath, seeing Jensen standing there waiting in anticipation. You knew this was going to be a mistake. You knew it the second he walked in here that this was a mistake. Too much time had gone by between you and you couldn’t let yourself snap back into what the two of you had before you parted ways.

“Ready?” he asked you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, tightening your jacket around yourself. Jensen placed his hand on your back, walking with you towards the front doors of your little shop. You pulled your purse over your shoulder before switching keys to lock up the place.

He stood by the curb, his hand in the air to hail a taxi to take the two of you wherever. You could feel your stomach getting tighter. You were nervous. Something you hadn’t felt around a guy in a very long time.

A taxi pulled over to the side of the road, stopping right in front of you and Jensen. You let out a shaky breath as he opened up the door, motioning for you to get in first. He joined you seconds later, shutting the door.

“Hi, could you drop us off at Beertown please,” Jensen said to the driver. A young man who simply nodded his head without a word. It took everything in you not to look over at Jensen. You wanted to so bad. You wanted to see if the freckles still dusted over his cheeks. You wanted to see the greens of his eyes and get lost in the millions of stories he had seen over the years.

It was a short ride to the restaurant he was taking you to. One of the ones you frequented growing up. You were never legal to drink, but the food was amazing and so was the atmosphere. It was where he took you for your first date. One you’d never forget. You were more nervous about this dinner than you were on the first date.

He helped you out of the taxi and led you to the front door of the restaurant. You took another deep breath, trying to control yourself as the waiter led you to your table in the back. Somewhere a little more private as Jensen asked for.

“It feels like it was a lifetime ago that we were here,” he commented.

“It was a lifetime ago,” you said. “We were fifteen. Still in high school.”

“Back when everything was simple and all we had to worry about was finals,” he chuckled.

“That and I remember worrying about my parents fighting all the time. ‘T’s why I spent so much time with you at your place. Your family always got along, unlike mine. I liked it there,” you shared.

“It sucked a lot when you were gone,” he swallowed hard. “I know we parted on good terms but it was hard without you.”

“Least you had your friends though,” you reminded him.

“I still have your letter,” he confessed. “In my apartment in Vancouver. I still have it.”

“Really?” you breathed out.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “I wrote you back and then never heard from you again.”

“Mom was pissed at me,” you sighed. “Moving away from everything and everyone I knew was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. It was worse when she didn’t listen to me when I told her I was struggling. Failed three classes my last semester of high school. Managed to get into UT and left. I was homesick and I missed you.”

“I missed you,” he stated. “Hell, I went to prom with my buddies.”

“I think we made it worse for ourselves though, Jensen,” you breathed out.

“Hey there. What can I get for the two of you?” the waiter smiled, pulling out her notepad.

“We’ll have two classic burgers, some fries and two of whatever you have on tap please,” Jensen told him.

“Coming right up,” he nodded, taking off to the next table.

“What do you mean you think we made things worse?” he cocked his head to the side, folding his arms on the table.

“I think you know exactly what I mean, Jay,” you said lowly.

“Are you - do you mean the night before you left?” he furrowed his brows. “The night we-”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Do you regret it?” he inquired.

“No. Of course not. But it made everything a million times harder,” you revealed. “It was all I could think about from the time I left until I got there. Even then, I thought it wasn’t going to be so bad because we were both applying to UT and we were going to see each other again soon enough.”

“But I didn’t,” he frowned. “I left for LA instead.”

“It is what it is,” you nodded. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not proud of you. I want you to know that. I’ve been following you from the start. I watch every episode, and every movie. I’ve seen your interviews and I follow all your accounts on everything. Hell I’ve even seen some convention footage.”

“I wish I could do the same with you,” he brought up. “Trust me, I’ve looked and haven’t been successful so far. Made me wonder if you got married and changed your name.”

“No. I’m not married,” you chuckled. “Not to anyone at least. Work maybe.”

“Here are your meals and your beer. Enjoy!” the waiter smiled as he placed everything down on the table. He even brought some ketchup for the fries and a bottle of vinegar. You gave him a warm smile with your thank you, looking forward to diving in.

“What about you?” you dared to ask.

“What about me?” he furrowed his brows.

“C’mon, a guy like you has to have a girlfriend,” you teased him.

“Nope,” he shook his head, picking up his burger.

“Yeah, I find that very hard to believe. Girls were always fawning over you in high school and I’ve seen what people say about you on the internet,” you giggled.

“See, the only one that mattered to me was you. You have had my attention since I met you in kindergarten,” he let out a laugh. “My parents always said we were childhood sweethearts.”

“We were,” you agreed. “You were my first everything, Jensen. Quite frankly, I’m glad you were too.”

“Why is that?” he cocked his eyebrow.

“Because you treated me like a queen,” you shrugged, taking a fry off the plate. “You treated me better than anyone’s first boyfriend does at that age. You set my expectations high, which is why I’m not married or with anyone. No one can live up to the simple standards you set when we were sixteen years old.”

“Good,” he declared. “You deserve to be treated like a queen. Don’t settle for anything less. I was honoured to be your knight in shining armour.”

“You mean king?” you corrected him.

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m simply a knight, sweetheart.” And just like that, you melted into the seat. You felt like you were sixteen again, sitting in the passenger's seat of his truck, staring out at the sunset in the field. The little moments that meant a lot to you.

“Well I beg to differ, darlin’,” you winked, trying to play it cool. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. How could it possibly feel like no time had passed between you? Fifteen years had gone by and yet, you connected if it was just yesterday.

“I missed that,” he smirked.

“What?” you cocked your head to the side.

“You calling me darlin’, or honey,” he admitted almost nervously. “For the record, you made me feel like a king, even if I was a knight.”

You grabbed your burger off your plate, finally taking a bite from it. The flavours danced on your tastebuds, bringing you back. This whole night was filled with nostalgia. You came to the conclusion that this couldn’t happen again after tonight. It was too hard to sit with him, and reminisce about how great things were many years ago. It was hard to sit with him and look at his soft features you had spent so much time with and know that it was in the past. Jensen was your best friend growing up. He was your rock. Your light in the darkness. But you couldn’t let him back into your life again and have things go sour this time around. You needed to keep those happy memories happy. Not turn them into something you have to speak to a therapist about in two years.

“When do you leave?” you asked him, taking a sip of your beer.

“Monday night,” he answered, taking a fry off the plate. “So I’m here another day and a bit.”

“I’m sure your parents are happy to see you,” you half smiled.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “They think I work too much. I don’t visit often enough according to them.”

“Your parents are cute,” you giggled. “They still have your bedroom in tact?”

“No actually. They did some renovations on the house and turned my room into one of the kids rooms when they have over the grandkids. I’m staying in a hotel for the next few nights. They have an extra room in the basement for me but it’s not ready yet.”

“Your parents were always the busy type,” you pointed out. “Your mom was always doing something when I was there.”

You watched as Jensen brought his beer up to his lips, taking a good drink of it. Your eyes wandered over his features once more. His soft hair sticking up and leaning a little more to his right. The crinkles by his eyes made you smile, especially when he did. He was handsome and he only got better with age. He had grown into himself now that you allowed yourself to look at him. He wasn’t a scrawny kid anymore.

“Can I get you guys anything for dessert?” the waiter asked as he cleared away your plates.

“No thank you,” you mouth to Jensen.

“No thanks, can we just get the cheque please,” he nodded politely.

You sat still in your seat, reaching for your phone in your purse to check your messages. This wasn’t a date, you reminded yourself. This was acceptable and this was you check on your business. You had no email orders thankfully and everything else looked fine. It was seeming more likely that you could have a day to rest tomorrow instead of in the kitchen. You took a deep breath, hoping that maybe you and Jensen would part ways after this and you could head home to spend the night in your apartment.

The waiter came over, placing the cheque on the table. Before you could even look at it, Jensen had taken out his wallet and placed some money inside it. He never let you pay for dinner, even back then.

“Thank you for dinner, Jensen,” you smiled at him.

“Thank you for joining me,” he half smiled. “Any chance your night is free?”

“What did you have in mind?” you cocked your eyebrow.

“Honestly, nothing. I just don’t want to leave you yet,” he confessed. You were a little confused for a moment. You couldn’t understand why he wanted to spend more time with you. He was a famous actor now. You were a small town girl he was with a million years ago. You had history but this was almost too far. You appreciated his honesty. You just had a bad feeling about this.

“Jensen,” you breathed out, getting up from your seat. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“You feel it too?” he asked, almost sheepishly. You licked your bottom lip, your eyes casting down. Your heart rate picked up a little at his words. There was this awkward tension that had been sitting there with you most of the night, just waiting to make its move. It finally had.

“Feel what, exactly?” you dared to ask.

“This awkward weirdness that’s never been there before,” he pointed out. “Something telling you to walk away.”

“Yeah, I do,” you nodded, adjusting your purse over your shoulder. You let out a sigh. “But there is also this stupid feeling inside of me that’s stopping me from walking away. That same stupid feeling I got when you asked me to dinner.”

“That same feeling when you saw me earlier today,” he breathed out.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“C’mon,” he motioned for you to follow him. You nodded your head, letting him lead the way out of the restaurant. The sun was starting to set, creating a nice warm orange tone in the sky. Jensen walked down the sidewalk, a few steps ahead of you.

What the hell were you doing? You barely knew him now. He was Jensen Ackles, a well known actor. You were Y/N Y/L/N. You owned a tiny bakery. That was your accomplishment. He had everything and so much more. He was the definition of success. Everyone loved him. You are not about to be a part of that. You were not about to be reckless after years of hard work.

“Jensen wait,” you swallowed hard, as you stopped in front of the park, taking a seat on the bench. He looked at you in confusion before taking a seat next to you.

“What’s up?”

“Where are we going?” you shrugged. “What are we doing?”

“I- I don’t know,” he sighed.

“I can’t do this, Jensen,” you shook your head. “I’m not doing this. I’m sorry. It was really nice seeing you after all this time.”

With that, you got up and started walking the other direction. You couldn’t sit there with him. You could go wherever he was going to take you and you certainly couldn’t let yourself get attached to the idea of loving him again. He was your childhood sweetheart. The one who taught you what love was and how to love someone with everything. Too much time had passed and you were two completely different people now. There was no changing that and you didn’t want to.

“Y/N, wait up,” you heard Jensen call out from behind you, followed by heavy footsteps, indicating that he was running after you.

“Jensen-“

Before you could even get a word out, his lips were on yours, kissing you hard. His hands came up to your cheeks, just like they used to when he kissed you unexpectedly. Your heart was fluttering in your chest and you could feel your lips tingling at the sudden contact. You wanted to reach out for him; pull him in close and kiss him like you used to for hours on end. His lips were soft along with the stubble growing on his face. You couldn’t deny kissing him back as your eyes fluttered shut. His breathing was heavy after running, shortening the kiss by quite a bit.

“Sorry,” he swallowed hard. “I had to.”

“It’s okay,” you nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth nervously. Your eyes cast down for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts.

“Look, seeing you - it brought up a lot of memories that I don’t think I was ready for. I never really got over you, you know? You were in my life everyday for eleven years and then you were just gone and I barely got to say a proper goodbye.”

“You did,” you assured him. “That last night before when we had sex for the first time. That was goodbye.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said softly. “I don’t want to leave this on bad terms.”

“We’re not going to,” you assured him. His lip curled upwards as his piercing green eyes met yours. You could feel the tension building between the two of you. His words swirling around in your head. He never really got over you, just the same as you never got over him. He was the one you lost all those years ago and it didn’t seem like he was walking away without a fight. Not this time.

“My hotel is just down the street. What do I have to do to convince you to come with me?” he smirked, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face.

“Depends,” you played. “What are we going to do?”

“Nothing you aren’t comfortable with,” he said. “I just know I'm going to regret it if I don’t ask you.”

His words were honest. For a second, you saw a glimpse of a boy you knew a long time ago. A boy who was willing to do anything to put a smile on your face. Deep down, you knew he was still in there. He had to be for people to talk about him the way they did. He was admired by everyone he worked with.

“Alright,” you agreed, nodding your head.

“I’m not expecting anything-”

“I know,” you smiled.

“So what was Minnesota like?” he asked, throwing his arm around your shoulder as you walked down the sidewalk.

“Shitty,” you scoffed. “People aren’t that nice. After my first class at my new school, I went into the bathroom and cried. It was the first time I had no one and I was terrified. It’s why I came back to Texas. My mom was too busy with her new boyfriend to even notice.”

“You didn’t make any friends?” he furrowed his brows.

“No. Not a single one. I didn’t go to prom. I thought about skipping graduation,” you confessed. “I never want to feel like that again.”

“Anyone ask you to prom?” he cocked his head.

“Yeah, one guy,” you shook your head. “Only because he thought I was a virgin and he wanted to up his score.”

“Really?” he swallowed hard.

“I told him I had a boyfriend with a huge dick and I wasn’t interested in contracting herpes,” you let out a laugh.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, pulling you in tighter to him.

“What about you? How many girlfriends have you had since?” you poked his side playfully.

“Three including you,” he answered. “I didn’t date anyone for a few years after you. I was about twenty when I started dating a girl who was a year younger and that lasted for about a year. She and I just didn’t click after sometime. Then a couple of years later, I met someone who was really cool. We dated for two years before calling it quits. I work too much and so did she. We were just better off without each other.”

“Sucks when you work a lot in a different country,” you breathed out.

“It does,” he agreed. “You dated anyone else?”

“One guy in college for about three years,” you shared. “Justin. Turns out you can date someone for three years and not really know them all that well.”

“Oh really?” he frowned, leading you into the front doors of the hotel.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I called you a king. Well this guy was more like a street rat in the end.”

“Like Aladdin kind of street rat?” he joked playfully.

“Shut up,” you giggled. “Worse. Aladdin at least had a good heart. He got the princess in the end. I’m talking about Jafar here!”

“Fuck that guy,” he stated. “You deserve better than that.”

“I had better than that,” you reminded him. “You ever think about what would have happened if my parents never split and I never would have left?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “I always come to the same conclusion though.”

“Which is?”

“You hating me,” he revealed. “If you never left, we would have made it to graduation and I would have left for LA and it would have been a messy break up and you would have hated me. Or I would have accidently knocked you up and ruined your life and you would have hated me. Say that never happened, I work in a different country and the distance would have driven us apart and you would have hated me. No situation has a good outcome.”

“You always were an overthinker,” you teased him.

“So are you,” he chuckled.

He led you over to the elevators on the right side of the hotel lobby. His arm was still around you, tucking you into him. You had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen as soon as you entered his hotel room. You knew his expectations were low, and you understood that. But god, did you miss him. You never really realized until his lips were on yours. Everything came flooding back to you. Suddenly, you were sixteen years old again and nothing had changed.

“Jensen,” you whispered as soon as the elevator doors shut. He leaned over, pressing number twenty seven. “I could never hate you.”

“Yeah, but you could not like me and that’s not something I want,” he admitted. “I’m going to be honest with you here. I know I’m a little off tonight. Not that you could tell, but I can.”

“You’re a little clingy,” you joked, wrapping your arm around his waist.

“My best friend got married two weeks ago,” he sighed. “I was one of his groomsmen at the wedding. I just see him with her and how happy they are, and when I did, the first thought that came to mind was you. I still think about you, more than I should. Maybe it’s because we never really split up for a bad reason. Both of us still had strong feelings for each other and we were ripped apart from each other. Then I saw you today, after looking for you for years, in Texas again and I - I just knew I had to take a chance.”

Your mouth went dry at his words as the elevator doors dinged open on floor twenty seven. You didn’t know exactly what to think. Did he just miss you? Was this a mid life, I’m never going to settle down kind of thing? Was he just thinking of you because of what you had a million years ago. Jensen didn’t know the person you were now. He didn’t know what the last fifteen years of your life were like, and you didn’t know about his.

But that didn’t mean that you didn’t miss him. After all, he was the only man you had ever loved. You were convinced he was the love of your life for the longest time.

“W-which room?” you asked him.

“End of the hall,” he pointed to the left.

You stepped out first, holding out your hand for him to take. He ducked his head down, trying to hide his smile before slipping his hand in yours. His hands were rougher than you remember them being, and a little bit bigger. Engulfing yours in warmth. You could smile without him seeing. You didn’t want to give away the fact that you loved the feeling of his hand in yours again.

“Here,” he stopped you, releasing your hand. You stood next to him, watching him slide the key into the door before the green light flashed. He opened up the door, motioning for you to walk inside.

You could smell the cool hotel room air as soon as you stepped inside. The first thing you noticed was the big window on the other side of the room. It took up the entire part of the wall. The view was beautiful. It was nice to see Dallas from this perspective.

You turned around, seeing Jensen standing behind you with his hands in his jean pockets. He was looking at you with a soft smile playing on his lips. Your eyes darted to the king sized bed in the middle of the room. He had his bag on the chair next to the bed.

“So to continue on from what you said in the elevator,” you paused, “you’re in a bit of a dark place, huh?”

“I was,” he admitted. “Then I saw you today. Randomly, out of the blue. You were just there.”

“Coincidence,” you shrugged.

“Or fate,” he swallowed hard.

“Or fate,” you breathed out. You felt your heart rate picking up as you looked at him.

“You haven’t changed much,” he said lowly. “You’re still kind, and caring. You still laugh at the same things. Back then, I thought you couldn’t get anymore beautiful. Until I saw you today.”

“You age like fine wine yourself,” you smirked. “You’re taller, and more muscular.”

“I grew up a bit,” he chuckled.

“Still got your cute lil’ bowlegs though,” you giggled, taking a step towards him.

“Shut up,” he let out a laugh. “God, I want to kiss you again.”

“What’s stopping you?” You asked him, taking a seat on the end of the bed, looking up at him.

“Overthinking,” he let out a dry chuckle.

“Spill.”

“I could kiss you,” he paused. “But then I know I’m going to want to do it over and over again. I don’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable. I don’t want to be the reason why we don’t talk again for another fifteen years.”

“I think both of us are afraid of that,” you confessed. “But I’m also going into this prepared for that.”

“So what are you saying?” He asked.

“I’m saying we have tonight. Let’s just focus on that first,” you whispered. “We can go back to our lives after this.”

“Can I at least grab your number before you leave?” he asked you.

“I’ll think about it,” you played, getting up from the bed. “I have to say, it’s really good to see you again.”

He stepped forward, slipping his hand around the small of your back. You felt your heart flutter in your chest at his touch, craving more of it. This time, you allowed yourself to hold him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You stood on your tiptoes, carefully pressing your lips to his in a hesitant kiss. His grip tightened on you, drawing you in closer as he kissed you back.

Memories of the past came rushing back to you. Jensen was just a boy you were best friends with. The one you spent everyday with up until the day you left. You remember the day he kissed you for the first time like it was yesterday. Out in the park where you frequented. He sat at the end of the slide, waiting for you to come down one evening. It was just the two of you left. Everyone had gone home for dinner. He was so smooth and cute about it, which was one of the reasons why you fell so hard for him so quickly.

Every moment from then on led up to now. You wanted this to be another addition to those memories. Your king making his way back to the castle for a moment. You knew it wasn’t going to be permanent and you were almost sure you could handle that, if it meant you had tonight with him.

You parted your lips, deepening the kiss as your arms tightened around his shoulders. Every so often, his nose brushed against the side of yours. His tongue slipped across yours, and you could taste the beer he had with dinner earlier tonight. You want more of him. You wanted every part of him. His touch had heat pooling in your core. The smell of his cologne only entranced you more. You were headed down a path that you couldn’t turn back from. You weren’t sure you even wanted to.

“Jensen,” you breathed out, pulling away just slightly, trying to catch your breath.

“Too much?” he whispered.

“No,” you shook your head. For a moment, you paused, not sure if this was something he was okay with. You wanted his touch, and you craved it. You didn’t know if it was okay the other way around.

You released him from your hold. Your hands making their way to your jacket, quickly peeling it off. Jensen stood there, his eyes locked on your every move. In a moment of confidence, you tore your t-shirt over your head, dropping it to the floor. That confidence quickly fell away when you realized he had probably dated models, and seen so many beautiful women that were so much nicer to look at compared to you. God, what the -

“You’re so damn beautiful, sweetheart,” he said softly. Just like that, one damn word and you were melting into again. He shrugged off his flannel shirt, letting it fall to the floor. He took the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing his torso inch by inch. His stomach was soft, just like it was fifteen years ago, only now, he had grown into himself. He had a tiny trail of hairs leading down into his jeans, making you smile. He was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

“Jensen,” you whispered, “you’re so handsome.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he said with a nervous smile.

“I do,” you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, reaching for the button on your jeans. His hand came up to yours, halting your movements.

“Is this - are you sure?” he furrowed his brows.

“For old times sake,” you winked. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“Fuck,” he smiled, looking down. “For old times sake.”

You continued to undo your pants while he worked on his own. This was definitely happening and you were more than okay with it. You felt that desire building inside you, and you needed to satisfy the itch. You needed him for so many reasons. He stood there in his black boxers. The outline of his cock making an appearance. He looked bigger now than he was back then.

You stood there in your bra and panties, unable to take your eyes off of him. You could feel yourself dripping in your panties. God, you wanted him. You wanted to feel his length inside you again. You wanted to hear him come undone to you touch.

“Do we need-”

“I’m on the pill,” you told him, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra, letting one of the last articles of clothing fall to the floor. Jensen’s eyes never left your body. You watched as his eyes darkened at the sight of you. His hands reaching for your body for the first time. You melted into his touch, letting your nerves simmer down.

“So perfect,” he muttered under his breath. “I can’t keep my hands off you, and quite frankly, I don’t want to.” Your nipples hardened at the coolness of the air.

You turned in his hold, facing him. His eyes roamed over your body, his bottom lip coming between his teeth. He had such an effect on you and quite frankly you couldn’t get enough now that you had started.

You motioned for him to get on your bed and he did so quickly. You straddled his hips, your centre lining up with the bulge in his boxers. A tiny wave of pleasure coursed through you as you did. Your lips were on his in an instant, your tongue dancing with his. His hands held you tightly against him.

Your heart was soaring in your chest as you kissed him. Your hands traced over every inch of exposed skin like it was the first time. You loved the way he felt beneath you. You loved the way you felt in his hold. It was calming, and warm. Jensen made you feel safe and there was no one in the world you could say made you feel that way and you were slowly starting to realize that.

“Hmm Y/N,” he breathed out. You ground your hips against his, eliciting a groan from his lips. “I’ve gotta have you.”

“Have me,” you muttered.

“Yeah?”

“I like this,” he mumbled.

“You want me on top of you?” You played.

“I want you anyway,” he growled.

You climbed off of him, slipping your panties down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. His eyes hooded with lust and desire as he glanced over you. His smile was soft, and sincere as he did.

You leaned down, dipping your fingers in the waistband of his boxers, dragging them down his legs. His cock sprang free, hitting his stomach with a soft slap. You smirked, throwing one leg over his lap once more. You took his cock in your hand, lining him up with your entrance.

You pressed your forehead to his, looking into his gorgeous green eyes, eyes that you never thought you’d get to look into again. Now he was staring into yours, trying to learn you all over again.

You sank down on his length, slowly letting him fill you up, stretching you in the most delicious way. The first thrust was always the best. The feeling of being one; of being so damn close to one another. Jensen took a sharp intake of breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. You saw how much they had darkened once he opened them. Your lips collided with his as he bottomed out inside you.

His hands rested between your shoulder blades, pulling you in closer to him. You shifted, lifting your hips before sinking back down, creating a steady pace that worked for both of you. Jensen’s hands slipped down the length of your back, resting them on your ass to help you move on him.

“Fuck Y/N,” he groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.

“Jense,” you breathed out. You gripped his shoulders, bouncing a little faster on his dick. A thin layer of sweat began to bead along your skin.

Jensen held you to him, shifting quickly. Your back hit the mattress. Jensen thrusted into you at a quickened pace. His entire weight was on top of you, adding to the pleasure he brought to you. His cock was dragging perfectly against your sweet spot, pushing you closer and closer to your breaking point. You could hear the tiny cries that escaped passed his lips as he drove into you. Your nails scrapped down his back, trying to pull him in even closer to you.

His lips attached to the spot beneath your ear as his thrusts slowed down to almost teasingly slow. You let out a moan as he sucked down softly. The tiny hairs on the back of your neck stood up. He paid attention to you and what you liked. You carded your fingers through his hair, something you knew he liked.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled into your neck.

His thrusts picked up a little more. You could tell he was getting closer by the way he was breathing. His mouth was ajar, and his tongue just peaked passed his lips. He was fucking gorgeous before he came, and every other time really. But this was different. Not many people had seen this.

“Jensen, I’m gonna-”

“Go ahead,” he breathed out. “I’m right behind you.”

“Come for me, Jense,” you urged him on, trying to keep up with his thrusts.

Within a few thrusts, your walls were clenching around his cock, squeezing him as pleasure soared through you. Your body was shaking beneath him as you threw your head back against the mattress. Your fingers digging into his back once more. You couldn’t contain your moan, or any of the words that rolled off your tongue. He made you feel so damn good, and you didn’t want to hold back.

Jensen wasn’t too far behind you. His thrusts became sloppy, and inconsistent. He tried to get as close to you as he could. His balls slapping against your ass. He came with a muffled cry of your name, spilling himself deep inside you. He slowed down, letting his orgasm run its course.

He lay on top of you, trying to catch his breath. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, waiting for his breathing to even out. The second time was even better than the first and you were thankful it was. It was a nice moment between the two of you. Finally feeling him again like you had craved for years after you left.

“Guess now I can cross have sex with an actor off my bucket list,” you breathed out with a chuckle.

“Shut up,” he shook his head, grinning into your neck before shifting off of you. He withdrew himself from you, and you instantly felt the loss of him. He hopped off the bed, heading into the bathroom. Your eyes wandered down to his perky ass, watching as he walked away.

He came back seconds later with a warm washcloth in his hand. He cleaned you up, just like he did the first time you did this together. You smiled at him. He was still that sweet boy you had known all those years ago.

You made yourself comfortable on the bed, waiting for him to come back and join you. It was just after ten and you didn’t exactly want to leave at this time and make your way home by yourself. You didn’t know if you should stay the night.

“At least this time I actually get to cuddle with you,” he chuckled. “You don’t have to sneak out the window to head home.”

“Yeah, that was awesome,” you scoffed. “I wasn’t exactly expecting your brother to come home.”

“Neither was I,” he shook his head. “C’mere.”

You inched over to him, throwing your arm around his waist before intertwining your leg with his. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder before placing a kiss to the top of your head. You could feel yourself slowly unwinding from the day. You were up early to start your orders and didn’t stop until Jensen walked in just after you closed. You were exhausted.

“You smell good,” he muttered, kissing your head once more.

“So do you,” you yawned. “You also stink of sex.”

“Get some sleep, sweetheart,” he said softly.

Your eyes fluttered open to a dark room. The clock in the corner read four thirty six. You were in a hotel room. Shit, you were in Jensen’s hotel room. You glanced to the other side of the bed, finding Jensen laying there on his back. He was fast asleep.

Guilt rushed through you. What were you doing here? Why were you still here with him? You knew you shouldn’t be. He was Jensen Ackles, an actor. He wasn’t your best friend anymore. He wasn’t that same small town boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago. He was a busy, hardworking man now. You were from two completely different worlds. He loved the idea of you and what your past was.

You carefully slipped out of the bed, trying not to make any big movements that would wake him. You bent down, picking up each article of clothing, putting it back on. You were doing him a favour. You couldn’t be that girl he used to know. You couldn’t give up your dreams for a past dream.

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked back at him. He was forever going to be the man you had fallen in love with. The one who treated you like a queen. You couldn’t be that for him now. He deserved better than that. He was simply confused and he saw you and thought of an easy way to get what he wanted.

You tiptoed over to him, leaning over to him. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before turning to head out. You never expected it to hurt so bad, but it did. Jensen was your happy thought in a world full of misery for two whole years. He was the one thing that got through to you when you felt like giving up.

You slipped out of the hotel room, quietly shutting the door behind you. As soon as you got to the elevators, the tears slipped down your cheeks. It hurt. God, did it hurt. But you were leaving on good terms. You were leaving after a night of reminiscing and soft touches. A night filled with the same passion you had all those years ago. You wanted it to go that way. You wanted him to remember that about you.

You took a taxi back to the shop, trying to keep your tears at bay at that time. You must have looked like a crazy person to the older man. Eyes red and puffy heading to a bakery at nearly five in the morning.

It was just starting to drizzle when you stepped out of the cab after paying for your fare. You had your keys ready in your hand, opening up the door to your shop. Your biggest accomplishment. Everything you had in the small little shop was created by you. You built this. You worked your ass off for this and the way you felt at this very moment - it was like it meant nothing.

You walked into the back of the building, heading up the stairs to get to your apartment located right above the shop. The only way you could keep the costs low. You opened up your apartment door, stepping inside. The second the door shut, the tears kept coming. You were doing the right thing, you reminded yourself. You were doing what was for the best.

Monday morning came quickly. For the first time, you didn’t want to get out of bed and start the day. You didn’t want to go to work and you didn’t want to bake something. You just wanted to take a break. You wanted to go back to three days ago when Jensen wasn’t a thought on your mind. When he was just a public figure on the internet.

You threw on a blue t-shirt and a comfortable pair of black pants. You weren’t bothering with makeup today. You were going to bake and that was it. No customers today. Your sole focus was making cupcakes for a birthday party and a few pies for orders. You could finish by one and go back up to your bed.

“Morning, Y/N,” Victoria smiled at you, handing you your morning coffee.

“Morning,” you smiled at her, reaching for your drink.

“Rough weekend?” she smiled knowingly.

“You have no idea,” you chuckled dryly. “I know I look like ass. If you and Melanie could keep a handle on everything out front. I don’t exactly want to scare customers away with my grudge look today.”

“You look as beautiful as always. You’re just too hard on yourself,” she smiled. “We can take care of things no problem.”

“Thank you,” you gave her a warm smile.

You pulled some of the already prepared cookie dough from the fridge, placing them on three trays to begin filling things up out front. You had your cupcake batter on the go and your buttercream already mixing in the kitchen aid. The smell was starting to fill the kitchen, making you feel more at ease. This is what you were good at. This is what you loved to do.

You poured the chocolate batter into the cupcake holders, adding in a little extra to have bigger cupcakes. It was for a girls birthday party. The buttercream was sitting in the mixer. A nice neon pink colour that was going to go well with the dark chocolate cupcake.

“Hey Y/N,” Melanie poked her head back. “Someone is here asking about the open position.”

“Oh really?” your ears perked up. “Uh well, send them back here and we’ll take it from there.”

“Okay,” she beamed, turning away.

You grabbed your measuring cylinder, placing your piping bag into it so you could get your buttercream ready for when the cupcakes were done. The timer for the cookies went off at the same time. In the corner of your eye, you caught a figure, which had to be the one inquiring about the position.

“I’ll be right with you. I just have a lot on the go,” you told them, grabbing your oven mitts to take the three trays out of the oven. You had a cooling rack next to your oven, perfect for placing lots of products when they were done. “You’re interested in a baking position?”

“Yeah,” the deep voice said. You almost stopped what you were doing. You were definitely expecting a female voice. “I’m only available Saturdays, and the odd Fridays. Depending on when I get off my other job and when I can fly in.”

You turned around, taking a deep breath. Jensen was standing there with his hands in his pockets. He was clearly nervous. He looked about as good as you did, if you were being honest. His eyes were tired.

“Y-you’re not actually interested in the position are you?” you swallowed hard.

“I am,” he nodded. “I can’t bake to save my life but I'm interested.”

“Jensen-”

“Why’d you leave?” he asked you. “I woke up and you were just gone. No sign you had even been there.”

“I can’t, Jensen,” you sighed in defeat, moving over to one of the stools by your counter.

“Why not?” he questioned, taking his hands out of his pockets. “I told you I still have feelings for you-”

“That’s not enough and you know it,” you licked your bottom lip, your eyes casting down. “Feelings don’t make a relationship work, especially not one between two people that barely know each other anymore. I get that your best friend getting married striked something in you and seeing me didn’t help. But I can’t be that girl for you, Jensen. I can’t drop everything I’ve worked for and that’s why it would never work. You’re an actor who works in a different country. I work six days a week here. Timezones, distance, insecurities, doubts, guilt, and god knows what else will come between us. It doesn’t matter if I still love you or not.”

“Do you?” he asked lowly. “Still love me?”

“Of course I do. I never stopped, ” you admitted. “But it’s not enough.”

“I’m not asking you to give this up for me,” he said to you, taking a step closer to you. “I’m asking you to give me a chance.”

“This isn’t because of everything is it?” you dared to ask.

“This is because I love you and I never stopped,” he stated. “I’ll fly down every weekend I don’t work to take a Saturday shift and spend Sundays with you.”

“N-no,” you shook your head.

“Y/N, are those cookies done by chance?” Melanie asked sheepishly. “Sorry, I know you’re in the midst-”

“Yeah, you can take one. They are hot though,” you told her. She snuck passed you with the empty tray in her hand. She moved quickly, placing eight of them in their places before sneaking back out. The tension was growing in the room.

“Why not, Y/N?” he sighed in defeat.

“I can’t be the girl you want me to be, Jensen. I can’t walk red carpets with you and be in the public eye like you are. I can’t be the girl I once was,” you sniffled.

“And I’m not asking you to be,” he declared. “All I want is you. You and whatever comes with you. Whatever shit you’ve been through, whatever it is. I’ll take it as my own. I just know that I love you and I haven’t felt my heart beat the way it has with you in a really long fucking time.”

“You could have anyone -”

“All I want is you,” he repeated. “Long days, phone calls, weekend flights. I’ll do it if it means I can be with you.”

“I work six days a week,” you reminded him.

“I’ll work Saturday’s,” he stated. “You’ve already seen me work.”

“I live in a one bedroom shoe box apartment above this store,” you shared.

“Is that your attempt to get me to change my mind,” he chuckled, taking the stool in front of you. He placed his hands on your legs, looking at you. “Nothing you can say will change my mind. I looked for you for ten years, Y/N. Now that I found you again, I’m not losing you.”

“I don’t have money to fly to you,” you argued.

“Don’t care. I’ve got frequent flyer points,” he smiled. “Anything else?”

“I think I’m done now,” you admitted with a half smile. “For now.”

“So do I have the job?” he cocked his head to the side.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You’re on probation though.”

“Is it because I can’t bake?” he let out a laugh.

“Yes. One hundred percent.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “But do me a favour?”

“Anything,” you looked up at him.

“Don’t ever leave me in the middle of the night like that again,” he breathed out, leaning over. He pressed his lips to your cheek.

“Promise,” you agreed. “I gotta work now, darlin’.”

“Put me to work, sweetheart. I can fit in a couple of hours before my flight,” he winked. “I’ll be back Friday night for three days.”

“Good,” you beamed, holding your hand out for him to take. You helped him off the stool and led him over to the counter. You handed him an apron so he wouldn’t get his shirt dirty.

“Hey Y/N,” Victoria smiled as she walked back into your work area. “Did we hire this one?”

“Yeah,” you nodded with a wide grin. “For now.”

“Good,” she smiled. “It’s about time you let someone in. Glad it’s heart eyes.”

“Heart eyes?” Jensen furrowed his brows.

“You gave me heart eyes when you saw me Saturday afternoon,” you teased him.

“Crazy heart eyes,” she pointed out. “Break her heart and I’ll break your face.”

“Victoria,” you said, wide eyed.

“I don’t care who he is,” she narrowed her eyes at him playfully. “I can take on Dean Winchester.”

“There’s an idea,” you muttered under your breath, turning back to your table.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Jensen smirked.

“Nothing, darlin’.”

“Yeah okay,” he chuckled, leaning over to you, placing a sweet kiss on your lips. You smiled against him, finally allowing yourself to truly enjoy it for the first time. You really were childhood sweethearts. You only hoped that you became a couple that was destined to grow old together. Either way, you were glad you were entering this journey with Jensen by your side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Your response keeps me writing!

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6knotty6thotty6 · 3 years

Text

So a couple of months ago, I saw a YouTube video that was an audio recording of season 5, episode 6 of Bojack Horseman, “Free Churro.” In the episode, the main character, Bojack Horseman, spends 20 minutes giving a eulogy at his mother’s funeral. There’s one big problem though, his mother was an abusive bitch. His eulogy is him trying to contemplate what she meant by her drying words, “I see you,” and whether or not she loved him. As someone who has a dead parent who was abusive, this is probably my favorite episode of any show ever for how much it helped me understand my feelings. The comments section is filled with people sharing their pain with their abusive families, but one comment stood out to me above all the others by how raw and relatable it was. This comment was by a YouTuber named Moonstruck. At the bottom of this post is a link to her channel. Please support her. After reading this, she deserves a million subscribers. Also please watch Bojack Horseman. (I corrected some of the grammatical errors to make it easier to read)

Disclaimer: Child abuse, bullying, trauma, and mental health:

Moonstruck:

This is a great monologue, but one part of it, in particular, really caught my attention was the 'grand gesture' bit.

When I was a kid, I read this book called "Chicken Soup for the Soul." There's a shitload of them. I don't remember which particular one it was. I hated the whole series because it's just someone profiting off a bunch of other people's stories rather than trying to write their own, in my opinion.

Anyway.

This one story that I remember, the ONLY one I remembered, was sent in by a little girl. She wrote about how her father never told her that he loved her. He never once, in her whole life, said the words "I love you." I don't remember her mom being mentioned, maybe she was dead; it doesn't matter. The point is her dad was basically an emotionless asshole. Well, one day, this girl gets sick. Really sick. Possibly on her deathbed sick. She wrote that one day she woke up to find a necklace sitting on her nightstand that had a pendant that looked like her dog. She said she held it to her heart and cried because that necklace said all the things her father never had.

I thought, "What a load of bullshit."

A cheap trinket doesn't make up for years and years of emotional neglect. Anyone can buy a thing and toss it your way. Hell, he didn't even hand it to her himself, just left it there for her to find if/when she woke up, then left her alone again to possibly die.

A lot of people say that actions speak louder than words, in cases like political protests and shit. While that's true, scenarios that this that girl are different. Gifts can never replace the words, "I love you."

When I was a kid, my father never told me he loved me. My mother didn't either, but she's a whole other kettle of fish. I would say 'my biological mother or father,' but I never got adopted ones, so who gives a shit. Anyway. My father was rarely around, and when he was, he just spent the entire time fighting with my mother and leaving again. He would do and say anything that could get him to spend less time in the house with her. With us. I can't blame him. If I could've left during those times, I would have. I tried more than once. I even earned the nickname 'runaway' from a family friend because of it.

I was told that I was worthless as early as I could understand words. I don't know what it is about me that set my mother off, but she HATED me. I was always told how expensive I was to keep alive and how I wasn't worth it. If I dared ask for anything, she would remind me how much she spent just to keep me from starving to death and that it was too much already. On the rare occasion I was given something, it was so she could use it as a threat. She was like, "Sure, you can have that toy horse since we got your sister a real one, but you better behave or we'll give it to her and let her break it." Or "Oh, fine, we can keep this dog as a FAMILY pet (NOT YOURS), but if you do something we don't like, we'll take it away and kill it."

Oh, yeah. I have a sister. She’s cut from the same cloth as our mother. I don't consider any of them family anymore. She was two years older than me. She was the "we should have stopped while we were ahead" kid. Anything she wanted, she got.

"Mom, can I have an award-winning horse and expensive dressage lessons?"

"Sure!"

"Mom, can I have a car?"

"No problem!"

"Mom, can you pay for my ballet lessons?"

"Absolutely!"

She was the golden child. The one that could do no wrong and wasn't a mistake. Even after she totaled her car, got arrested for an underage DUI, and got pregnant three times in high school, she was still the good one. I never even asked to go to school dances, parties, or go out with the one friend I had. My sister liked to see me in pain. She'd tell our mom that I did things just to get me in trouble. Whether it involved blaming me for things she did or fabricating stuff, she'd say whatever it took to get my mother to beat me while she watched and laughed. Oh, yeah, our mom was BIG on physical punishment. I've been whipped with everything from a riding crop, a wooden paddle, spoons, and especially belts. Anything that was close at hand when my mother got irritated, I've been hit with it.

At one point, my sister had three tall, beautiful show-worthy horses. I was allowed to keep a sickly old pony for all of a week before she was taken away, then I'd get called ungrateful for asking why we had to get rid of HER instead of one of the horses. Even though my mother said it cost too much to keep them all. With horses being obviously too rich for my blood, I asked for something cheaper, and for once, I got it. I was given a baby goat that one of our neighbors' goats had abandoned for being too weak, and they didn't have time to raise. I loved that goat. I bottle raised him, and named him Ben. He was my best friend for a while. When he grew up, he got so big that I was able to stand on his back to grab tree branches and pull them down so he could eat the leaves. I walked him on a leash like a dog every day. I loved him so much. My mother had me enter him in a show, and we won ninth place! I was thrilled to have something to show against my sister's collection of dressage show ribbons. I finally had proof that I could do something right! Sure, the prize money was taken away from me, but I still had Ben.

But Ben didn't come home with me after the show. It turns out he was sold to a slaughterhouse because that show was for meat goats. I didn't know until he was already gone. Of course, my mother punished me for being upset and even forced me to write a thank-you card to the people who bought his meat.

My mother was always like that. Anything I loved was used as a threat. I eventually accepted that loving anything was a waste of time. I learned to detach myself from my feelings, and I got really good at it. I can completely turn off my emotional reaction to anything. One time I had to put down one of the egg-laying hens at work that got too sick to save, and I felt nothing while bringing down the ax. When I lost out on a job that could have changed my life, I told myself how stupid it was to hope for anything good. Any positive emotion I felt got me punished, so I learned to feel nothing at all. To this day, I still have trouble feeling things, even when I want to. I'm taking pills now, and they help, sometimes.

I've had several suicide attempts. I keep a box of razor blades in my desk just to have them close. I got a tattoo of a heart with rainbows on my wrist. Partially for LGBT solidarity, but mostly to remind myself that there is still beauty in the world. I still struggle with wonder if I actually believe it or not.

I've tried so hard to be a good kid. I never partied, never drank, never smoked even when the chances were there, and I would have greatly loved anything to make the pain stop or even just dull it a little bit. I was in the gifted and talented program at school and was able to graduate at fifteen. For a while, I was sent to a children's home where I was passed around to many people I didn't know, including a clown who I may or may not have actually been related to, until I eventually wound up out here where I am now. It's all pretty hazy, and the details get scrambled.

It's been 10 years since I've had contact with my mother and sister. I can't even keep in touch with the one friend I had, even after I lived with her. She's tried to reach out to me, but I just… can't. I try, but I can't. Sometimes, I can almost pretend that my past wasn't real. It's just a hazy fog that isn't really there. I want to believe that if I don't allow something, or someone, who was part of that past, someone tangible and real, into my life again, then the fog will go away. This is why I can't do it. I know I'm a terrible friend. Ariel, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. You're better off without me in your life anyway.

I typed all of this out because sometimes, about fifty dollars or so shows up in my PayPal from my father's email address. I don't know if it's from him or from her using his email, but it doesn't matter either way. The point is I know my mother is the one sending the money.

I know my mother likes to think she's a good person. She went to church every Sunday, and probably still does. She organized a lot of church events and participated in every church function. I had to be an altar server for several years until I aged out of it and was in the choir. She kept going to that church even after the priest got drunk, called me many horrible names in front of everyone, and was revealed to be a pedophile that raped a little boy at gunpoint. She probably still goes to that same church and organizes things. She likes being in charge. She likes having people look at her and say, "That there is a good person."

But are you, though, Mom? Are you really a good person? Were you a good person when you hit me? When you lied to me? When you laughed with my sister about how much I got hurt for things I didn't do? Were you a good person every time you told me you'd kill my cat or leave my dog at the pound? Were you a good person when you sold Ben to be eaten, knowing that I loved him? Were you a good person when you made me read "A child called It" and told me that you'd start doing the things in that book to me if I didn't behave? Were you a good person every time you told my father I was a liar whenever I tried to tell him what you were doing to me? Were you a good person when you told me I wasn't worth the cost of being alive? Were you?

Fuck you, Mom! Keep your fucking money! A necklace on the nightstand isn't enough. A trinket can't heal years and years and years of abuse and hurt. You can't hide these scars under dollar bills. I hope you die alone. I know I probably will, but I don't even care anymore. I lost the ability to care thanks to you. You can't make up for the things you did and the things you didn't say now. Too little, too late!

#child abuse #abuse #domestic abuse #family #survivor #YouTube #bojack horseman #forgive #mom #mother #friend #friends #story #personal #chicken soup for the soul #free churro #monolouge #father #dad

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therealromewrites · 3 years

Text

Wake up Parker! Chapter One: Procrastination

Relationship: Peter Parker x Tall Older Reader (Peter is 22 and Reader is 26/27)

Warnings: None

Word Count Total: 2069 (This Chapter)

Tagged: @bggerbtch

Summary: Peter Parker is a student in the city of Brooklyn. He’s lazy, spoilt and he procrastinates a lot. He meets a woman named (Y/N), She’s recently moved to Brooklyn for an independent life. Something Peter is fascinated by. Over the course of a few months, Peter needs to realise that he has to grow up and become responsible for his life.

WAKE UP PARKER! MASTERLIST

“Prepare profit and loss statements after taking into account the following adjustments.”

Peter blinked his eyes and re-read the question in his economics text book. Taking a sip of coffee from his spider-man mug.

“Prepare profit and loss statements after taking into account the following adjustments. Number one: Returns outwards seven thousand dollars were wrongly included in sales.”

Peter now understood the question, as he took his pen and started writing some semblance of an answer. However, his mind started to wander and he drew an arch, connected to another arch and soon he had managed to create a decent looking Homer Simpson on page. Peter smiled and marked it with an ‘A+’ before leaning back and staring into the ceiling. Peter wanted to go to sleep when an annoying ring sounded from his phone.

He picked it up to see an alarm for twelve a.m. reminding Peter to study. Peter sat up properly at his desk and set his phone aside. He went back to read the question.

“Returns outwards seven thousand dollars were wrongly included in sales. In sales. Included in sales.”

Peter’s mind drifted and he wondered if there was a new episode Rick and Morty. He brought his laptop in front of him and searched for Netflix. Clicking onto the link and searching for the show in his recently watched. Peter could hold off studying for a little while and catch up on the show. There was no new episode but he really wanted to watch an old re-run.

He found the episode ‘Total Rickall’ and switched it on. He smiled and enjoyed the episode. Peter started to feel hungry and pushed himself away from his desk. Creeping out his bedroom door and down the stairs to the kitchen. He toasted two slices and added the left over roast chicken with garlic mayo as a filling for his sandwich. He placed it on a tray along with a packet of M&Ms, chips and Reese’s peanut butter cups.

Heading back up to his room, munching on his snacks he turned the TV on to play a bit of the Spider-Man game. After an hour, he got bored and switched off the TV to turn to his Star Wars comic. Flicking through the pages before his phone rang an annoying tune. He got up from the bed and headed to his computer table to see the time was three a.m. Peter sighed and sat down to finish his first question. He felt his eyes droop and he dropped his head onto his arms.

Hours later, Peter could hear repetitive knocks on his bedroom door. A muffled voice kept calling out to him, to wake him up.

“Peter! Wake up!”

Peter groggily sat up, the back of his hair sitting up and the front pressed against his forehead. He felt a numbing pain in his neck and he ruffled his hair. Getting up and limping to his bedroom door. On the other side was his little sister, Morgan. A sprightly ten year old in a black and white striped shirt underneath a light blue denim dungaree dress. She had a tray of breakfast: omelette with buttered toast and a glass of orange juice.

“Morgan, why are you annoying me?”

“It’s seven thirty. Mum said to give you some breakfast before you go for your exam.”

Peter’s eyes widened as he rushed back into the room to start packing his backpack. Notepad, pens, text books.

“Morgan, why didn’t you wake me up sooner?”

A pout settled on Morgan’s face as she stepped into the room and placed the breakfast tray at Peter’s desk table. Turning to face Peter, hands on her hips like a disappointed parent. Well, adopted sibling.

“You said you were going to study all night. I thought you’d be up by now.”

Peter rolled his eyes and managed to pack his bag, leaving it by his bedroom door. He stomped to his cupboard and shrugged off his t-shirt, opting for a blue t-shirt with Captain Caveman on the front. He glanced behind him and spotted dark black jeans by the foot of his bed. Rushing to jump into those, all the while Morgan has been pointing out his mistake.

“I can’t believe you fell asleep. You had four cups of coffee and you still fell asleep. What will you do now? How will you do your exam now, Peter?”

“Have any encouraging words for me Mog? Instead of complaints.”

“Yeah, just try not to fail.”

Peter rolled his eyes and slipped on dark grey socks and black converses. Morgan was trying to be the smart one as usual but Peter won’t stoop to her level. He gets up and snags a toast from his breakfast tray, holding it in his mouth and muffling out.

“You sit here and eat this breakfast. I’m off.”

With that, Peter ran out the room with Morgan wishing him well for his exam. It’ll be fine. Peter was smart, it should be totally easy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was not easy. Peter was beginning to regret leaving studying for the last minute as he constantly flicked his pen between his fingers. The minute hands on the clock going much slower than usual and everyone around him was bent at their desk, jotting down answers to questions he should have known the answer to. Peter glanced down at the exam question, he was stuck on.

‘With reference to the table above, evaluate the potential benefits of increasing expenditure for a new company starting out.’

The question made no sense at all as he read it twice and thrice. Peter sighed, telling himself he should have studied for this exam. The last exam as well. He flicked through his exam papers, noting that he had managed to answer ten questions out of thirty. In regards to the grade system it might be enough to warrant a pass grade. He flicked through, counting the marks for each question before realising that might not be the case.

“You’re never going to do anything, Peter Parker. You’ll definitely fail this exam.” Peter glanced up to see Wanda have the angriest glare towards him. “Because that’s what happens when you don’t attend a single lecture the whole year. It’s what you deserve!”

Was he hallucinating? It definitely seemed like that because he hears Flash’s voice speak up.

“But what do you have to worry about, Parker? Who cares if you fail? Your dad’s Tony Stark. You’ll still be loaded and you’ll still have the best car in this college, right?”

He sees his best friend Michelle turn around and scold Flash for discouraging Peter from succeeding.

“Relax, Pete. Don’t listen to these losers. Don’t worry. I’m your friend and I know that you’re going to pass, like you always do.” Peter smiled and was about to get down and do this exam the best that he can. Michelle always knew what to say. Well, most of the time.

“By the way, where were you last night? I kept calling, why didn’t you answer? Did you read the notes I gave you?”

Peter gave a great sigh at Michelle’s motherly concern but luckily his best friend, Ned came to his rescue.

“Shush Michelle. Can’t you at least let him dream in peace? Pete, I’m in the same situation as you. I couldn’t study last night either. I was with Betty. She was studying economics and I was studying her. All night long.” Ned stared wistfully at Betty before turning back to Peter. “Anyways don’t worry Pete. If we fail, we’ll fail together. We’ve been together since kindergarten. What’s one more year, right? Don’t worry, pal.”

Peter smiled and was about to start writing, when he heard the Professor order everyone to stop. Peter missed his opportunity but at least he could try to pass this exam, as he turned to Ned who had finished scribbling his answer. Ned sent a secretive thumbs up to Peter, before getting up and handing his paper to the Professor.

Two hours after the exam, Peter was hanging out with his friends in the courtyard by the exam hall. He had his camera with him and took various pictures of a squirrel; people talking about the exam. His friends were talking about the exam as well and Peter couldn’t be bothered to think about it. It’s done and out of his head. He noticed Wanda going around to people with an excited gleam on her face. Handing multi-coloured papers to people before she approached Peter’s table. Her smile dropped and you could sense distaste in her voice.

“Tomorrow night. Farewell party. Please turn up for that.” She smiled at everyone else, further encouraging. “There’s food and a DJ. Definitely come.”

She tossed the paper at Peter and strutted away to get more people to come to her party. Peter always felt sour after Wanda’s hatred towards him as he complained to his friends.

“What the hell is Wanda’s problem? I don’t want to go to her farewell party. I bet it’ll be boring anyways.”

Michelle rolled her eyes and knocked Peter’s shoulder.

“Shut up, Peter! We have to go. We might never see these people again. This is it.”

Ned agreed.

“College is over. Where did the last four years go? Life is going to change now. I have to look for a job now.”

“You’re right, there’s a lot to do. I’m gonna go for that internship with Quentin Beck.“

Peter felt proud, they had finally gotten through college and now they were free agents. He noticed Ned fiddle with something in his bag.

"Ned? What’ve you got there?”

Ned jumped as he tried to pack the small box into his bag.

“Nothing!”

“Ned!”

Peter went around and started wrestling Ned for the thing. Michelle simply cupped her face in shame at her two friends fighting like children. Peter managed to overcome Ned as he held the box in the air and sat on the table, between Michelle and Ned.

It was a small blue velvet box and it had a silver ring in it. It had a small pearl as a gem and was wrapped around red silk. Peter’s eyes widened and constantly darted his glance between the ring and Ned. Michelle, having already known the ring, rolled her eyes and took the ring off Peter.

“Ned, What is this?”

“It’s a ring, Peter. Ned bought it for Betty. I think her name’s engraved in there too.”

Ned took the ring back and tucked the small box into his rucksack.

“It’s just the initials that are engraved in it.”

“Ned, you gotta be kidding me.”

“Peter, I love her!”

“Dude, you’re pathetic. Don’t be an idiot. Ned, are you actually going to propose to Betty?”

“We’ve been going out for two years. I think that’s enough time.”

Peter felt Ned was rushing into things with Betty. They knew each other for longer and only recently started dating. That was not enough time but Ned’s a love sick puppy.

“Why are you being so serious, Ned?”

Michelle, who was intently listening to their conversation, knew the answer to Peter’s question. “You know, everyone has to get serious after college. You’ll have to do it too.”

“Right, which is why I’ve made a really serious plan.”

“What?”

“Let’s go and get drunk!”

Michelle and Ned sighed. Peter was the ‘fun friend’. He knew how to get parties started, where to eat and drink. He was never one for serious talks and it didn’t feel like Peter was serious about the future.

“Peter! Be serious!”

“Yeah but I don’t want to be serious right now. We’ve finished our exams today. Who cares about tomorrow? As long as we can have some fun tonight? Come on.”

Peter hopped off the table and swung his bag over his back. Securing his camera, safely into his camera bag. Today was the day to just have fun, relax and enjoy themselves. They could worry about the future another time. Right now was the time to party and it seemed his friends were warming to the idea.

Peter pulled Michelle up and ran out the courtyard. Ned followed behind, pulling along Betty for a crazy filled day. Eating; drinking; shopping for clothes; and playing arcade games. Peter was having the time of his life with his friends. The future was less of a worry and a simple mild concern.

CHAPTER TWO: THE DEAL

#peter parker #peter parker x oc #bollywood #bollywood au #modern au #au #mcu #mcu au #realrome writes #wake up sid #wake up sid!#wake up sid au #peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker tom holland

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

“Be Mine”- A Sunshine AU Drabble

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Han Jisung (Stray Kids)

Word Count: 2,500

Warnings: Language, some mentions of smut, it’s mostly cute

Genre: Married Life AU

Notes: Happy Valentine’s Day!!!!

“Is that the best you can do?” I groaned, fixing Hyunjin with what I hoped mimicked the effect of Jeongin’s notorious puppy dog eyes.

Instead, my best friend and business partner scoffed, grabbing a towel to wipe away the flower painting the side of his cheek. “What the hell did you expect? You tell me to bake your husband a cake an hour before we’re supposed to close!”

I winced at his tone, realizing that Hyunjin's frustrations were completely warranted. But I was growing increasingly desperate, especially while the clock continued to tick away in the background. Because, like the forgetful idiot that I was, I totally missed the giant heart circling today’s date on the calendar in my bedroom.

In my defense, I was completely disoriented after Jisung woke me up between my legs this morning, tongue circling against my clit with urgent movements. It was the first sign that I should’ve been paying more attention as opposed to losing myself to a well-deserved orgasm. "Happy Valentine’s day, Y/N,” Jisung said with an arrogant smirk, clearly proud of his early morning efforts.

Of course, there was also the additional surprise of pancakes waiting for me in the kitchen. My plate was stacked high with the doughy breakfast food shaped into misformed little hearts. Bless his soul, but Jisung was definitely inept when it came to cooking.

I ate quietly, trying to ignore the way Jisung watched me from the counter, cheeks squished between his palms. “It’s good,” I lied to him, trying my best not to choke on the burnt edges, but it was worth it to see Jisung’s face light up with his beautiful smile.

“Baby,” Jisung had finally stopped me on my way out the door, pulling me into a passionate kiss. “I’ll see you later tonight. I have something special planned for you.”

Fuck. My. Life.

“Hyunjin, I’m so screwed,” I groaned, pulling the tiny cake closer to me. “Thank you for this.”

“Y/N forgot Valentine’s Day again,” Hyunjin sighed, reaching behind him to undo the strings holding his apron together. “What a surprise.”

I glared at him because I was determined not to make a repeat of last year when Jisung had spent a fortune on a new pair of earrings to offer as a gift for the cheesy Holiday. I remember accepting them hesitantly, wondering why my husband felt the need to buy me jewelry. “What’s this for?” I had chuckled, feeling my heart sink in my chest when I recognized the familiar look of disappointment in Jisung’s eyes.

“It’s a stupid holiday,” I muttered. “I don’t understand why Jisung even likes it so much.”

“He’s a hopeless romantic,” Hyunjin said, tone rising dramatically. “But yours truly will celebrate at home. Alone. With a case of beer and a bag of stale pretzels.”

“Good for you, Jinnie,” I teased him, patting his shoulder while he glared at me from the corner of his eye. “Close up shop, yeah? I have to run through the streets begging someone to sell me some flowers.”

“Whatever, Y/N,” Hyunjin said. “You should be more grateful that you have someone to celebrate this hellish day with.”

“I’m beyond grateful,” I said, rolling my eyes as I dismissed him curtly, wrapping my jacket tighter around my shoulders when I walked outside.

I felt like a complete imbecile driving through the empty streets of the city, looking out my windows for any familiar sign of those ridiculous flower stands that popped up rampantly around this time every year. Yet, another obvious warning that I had blatantly ignored which could’ve saved me a lot of grief when it came to pleasing my husband. For once in my life, I’d like to feel more prepared for Valentine’s Day because Jisung enjoyed it so much and I always felt obligated to entertain the things he liked even if I didn’t share his enthusiasm.

“Aha!” I cheered triumphantly when I spotted a bright neon pink cart set up outside an empty diner. I parked my car as close as possible, locking the door behind me before approaching the stand with determination.

“Evening,” the owner greeted me with a faint hint of amusement which I chose to ignore as I scoured my few pathetic choices.

“I guess I’ll have those,” I said, indicating my hand in the direction of a modest bundle of flowers that definitely had been turned over by countless other patrons who had probably enjoyed a much more vibrant selection.

“Of course,” the man agreed. “That’ll be fifty dollars.”

“Fifty dollars!” I exclaimed, frowning at the wilting bundle of roses. “What the hell?”

“Valentine’s day is almost over,” the man shrugged. “It’s about time for the really desperate ones to come out.”

“I’m not desperate!” I lied, muttering under my breath as I reached into my wallet. “Just give me the damn bouquet.”

The man smirked, snatching my money while handing me the saddest excuse for Valentine’s Day flowers I had ever seen. Still, at least it would be something thoughtful to give Jisung as I hurried back to my car. I had about half an hour to make it home since my husband had insisted on making dinner for the two of us, something I protested whole-heartedly because Jisung was a nightmare in my kitchen. However, regardless of my protests, nothing could stop Jisung when he was set on doing something. I could only hope that he managed to keep the heat on medium when he was cooking Ramen.

I reached back into my coat pocket for my discarded keys, growling when I realized that a parking ticket was stuck underneath my windshield wiper. “Fuck,” I cursed, groping for the door handle of my car before gently placing the flowers down in the front seat. I glared at the ticket before tossing it on top of the dashboard. “Who the hell is patrolling the meters this late at night?”

Of course, there was nobody present to address my grievances, leaving me to stew quietly by myself as I maneuvered my car onto the highway.

Ever since I could remember, my husband always insisted on celebrating Valentine’s day with the most passionate displays of declaring the modest “I love yous” we always shared on our way out the door in the mornings. I had never properly understood his obsession with the Holiday as I made no secret of my own dislike for the commercialized occasion. I mean, who does Walmart actually think they are by charging over three dollars for a box of marshmallows with chocolate on top?

Distracted by my unpleasant brooding, I turned off the exit ramp without remembering the brand new traffic light the state had recently built to control rowdy teenagers who liked to handle the curve at maximum speed. The bright red of the light caught me completely off-guard and I slammed on breaks instinctively, realizing too late that the jarring movement had sent my precious cake careening into the floorboard.

“NO!” I cried, resisting the urge to bang my head against the steering wheel when I looked down and saw Jisung’s cake had tragically been completely destroyed, flowers joining the terrible mess that would be impossible to clean. “What the actual hell,” I bemoaned, searching for a spare tissue to try and at least clean the icing from my leather seats.

When the light turned green, I eased out into the intersection knowing that I now had nothing to give Jisung for Valentine’s Day. The thought was rightfully sobering and I pulled into our apartment complex with a heavy heart because there was no back-up plan waiting to save me. I was left with nothing and my husband would suffer the consequences of yet another year of my poor planning.

As soon as the ignition was off, I did my best to reform the cake and gather the flowers together. It was pathetic, both their appearance and my blatant disregard for appropriate planning. “I’m sorry, Jisung,” I whispered into the cold night air, holding the pathetic excuse for a cake tightly in my arms as I entered our building.

I wrestled with my keys at the front door, managing to catch the lock before using my foot to help me inside with what was left of my Valentine's Day surprise. With a deep sigh, I placed the cake and flowers on our side table, studying them as I tried not to imagine Jisung’s reaction to my gifts. “Y/N!” he sang, peeking his head out of the kitchen wearing an adorable smile. “Guess what?”

“Hmm?” I feigned noncommittally, hanging up my coat before fidgeting with the cake and flowers on the side table.

“I made dinner!” Jisung said. “And I didn’t burn the kitchen down.”

“I’m proud of you, babe,” I told him sadly, wondering if the Universe was conspiring against me in its determination to ruin my marriage on the one day of the year meant to celebrate love.

“How was your day?” Jisung asked from the kitchen.

“Fine,” I grimaced. “What about you?”

“It was interesting,” Jisung said. “Come here for a second. I want you to look at the cards my kids made for me.”

I put on my best smile, accepting a kiss from Jisung before my husband was ushering me against the counter. “Aren’t they adorable?” he asked, shuffling through the tiny Valentine’s cards decorated with a variety of familiar cartoon characters.

“I Dumble-ADORE you,” Jisung giggled, handing me the Harry Potter themed card. It reminded me distantly of my own childhood where I would drag my mother through the grocery store, determined to find the best box of childish cards for my classmates.

“To the most handsomest teacher,” I read, offering Jisung a mischievous look. “Does this little Sarah have a crush on you?”

“She’s just a kid,” Jisung said, fingers nimbly massaging the skin at the back of my neck.

“It’s okay,” I grinned. “I understand her opinion.”

“Is that so?” Jisung questioned, pulling me in closer from his grip around my waist, offering me a searing kiss that ignited a familiar desire to bend over the nearest piece of furniture for my husband. “Dinner’s ready,” he said, releasing me despite my whine as he started to arrange our plates. I wasn’t surprised to see that Jisung had created a romantic set-up in the dining room complete with a pastel-pink tablecloth decorated with our finest wine glasses and cutlery. There were even a few lit candles arranged with the centerpiece.

“You worked hard, I see.”

Jisung offered me a sheepish smile. “Do you not like it?”

“Of course I like it, babe,” I said, taking a seat next to him at the table. “I know you did your best.”

Jisung filled my plate with a steamy offering of whatever delicious concoction he had somehow created. “It’s some kind of pasta.”

“You don’t know?” I questioned, enjoying the way Jisung’s ears turned red at the accusation.

“Changbin might have helped.”

“Hmmm,” I giggled, reaching for the wine bottle. “Does that really count, Sungie?”

“Well, I bought the wine myself.”

“And I’m so very proud of you for it.”

I carefully poured us both a glass, sipping the delicate liquid. “An appropriate choice.”

“Yeah? Minho recommended it.”

“Jisung,” I laughed. “I feel deceived.”

“Don’t worry,” Jisung reassured me. “Your present was completely my idea!”

I stuffed another bite of food into my mouth at the mention of a gift. “Oh?”

“I think you’ll love it,” Jisung said, obviously very excited at whatever thoughtful present he likely purchased for me again this year. Unlike my unsuitable offering still sitting on the side table.

Jisung continued to fill the majority of our conversation, talking about a new assistant principal at his Elementary school. Meanwhile, I tried to maintain a neutral expression, hoping that Jisung wouldn’t notice how nervous I was about whatever he had planned to give me that would pale in comparison to my wrecked cake and dying flowers. But I was naturally a bad gift giver, you could ask any of our closest friends. They would all recount a similar nightmarish scenario involving my inability to understand the basic mechanics behind the concept of exchanging gifts.

“Join me in the bedroom,” Jisung eventually said, gathering our plates together while I tried not to hyperventilate.

I stood up to fix my skirt, returning to the foyer to find the cake and flowers waiting for me mockingly. I grabbed both meager selections, managing the walk of shame to our shared bedroom at the other end of the hallway. Soft music played from inside and I briefly entertained the idea of a fully naked Jisung splayed out across our bed like some kind of filthy pornography.

But I probably wouldn’t get laid after Jisung saw my cake and flowers.

“Sungie,” I said, stepping inside the room only to find Jisung fully-clothed and waiting next to our dresser with hands behind his back.

“Babe,” he said, smile contorting into a frown as he realized what I was balancing precariously between my hands.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed in defeat. “I got you a cake and flowers but they didn’t survive the trip home.”

I gently deposited the cake and flowers on our desk. “Y/N...”

“I ruined it again,” I cried, falling back against the bed before he could finish his sentence. “Jesus, Sungie, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I tried so hard to make this special for you, but I always manage to ruin everything.”

“Baby,” Jisung said, crawling onto the mattress next to me. “What are you talking about?”

“The stupid cake and flowers!” I exclaimed, covering my eyes with my hands. “I just don’t understand,” I sighed. “I mean, I guess it’s alright, but I don’t really get why you love Valentine’s day so much.”

Jisung smiled, thumb brushing across my lower lip. “February 14th,” Jisung said. “The day Y/N told me that she loved me for the first time.”

I froze at his unexpected explanation, my next deprecating sentence dying as soon as my lips were forming the words. “What?”

“Babe,” Jisung sighed fondly, leaning down so that we were at eye level. “I don’t really care about the gifts, but I always make a big deal out of Valentine’s Day because it means so much to me. It would be enough for me if we just sat together on the couch all day and watched those sappy soap operas you like.”

I didn’t realize I was crying at his tender resolution until his fingers were carefully capturing each successive drop. “Jisung, why the hell are you determined to turn me into mush?”

Jisung chuckled, kissing my forehead with affection. “Honestly, it wouldn’t be Y/N if she was actually organized,” Jisung said, fingers carding through my hair while I leaned against his chest. “And, for the record, I actually like the cake and flowers, even if they weren’t necessary.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I mumbled against his shirt. “They’re both terrible.”

“I would never lie to you,” Jisung gasped with feigned outrage while I rolled over on top of him, planting my hands on either side of my head. “Are you interested in what I got for you?”

I nodded eagerly, allowing him to rise slowly with one hand maintaining a grip around my waist. He reached behind him for the discarded box and held it out for my awaiting hands. I gasped when I realized what was waiting inside, shimmering brilliantly under the lights. “It’s sort of like a replacement,” he said, nodding to the wedding ring I wore on my finger, compliments of a very nice discount Jisung received at the pawnshop. He had been so embarrassed when he offered it to me back then, promising to find something better in the future. But even now I made sure to tell Jisung that I loved both rings equally because they came from him and that’s all I cared about. “Beautiful,” he declared when I slipped it on next to my other ring. “Happy Valentine’s day, Y/N,” Jisung murmured soothingly.

And I sighed happily in return. “Happy Valentine’s day, Sungie.”

#mostly competent #han jisung #han jisung fanfic #han jisung imagine #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #happy valentines day

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whumpiary · 4 years

Text

BTHB (@badthingshappenbingo) Fill: Manhandling | Requested by: @my-whumpy-little-heart (approximately 12 million years ago)

[content warning: referenced noncon/dubcon, abuse of power, threats of death, mild suicidal ideation/self-endangering thoughts, alcohol mention]

Cass doesn’t quite wake up to the sliding thud of his boarding door opening but by the time Tucker slams on the light with a fist against the switch, and thumps the wall with three shuddering thuds, Cass finds himself sitting up before his brain has time to process.

“The fuck’re you doing?” he starts. Cass squints up through the light at the man towering over him as he tries to get his heart to chill the fuck out. “Wha'time is it?”

“Do you have any idea how much I just lost?”

Cass sighs wearily, dropping an arm over his eyes as he slumps back down.

“Told y'not to play cards with AJ,” he slurs “She cheats”

“Oh I’m talking about a lot more than a little game of cards, Ace,” Tucker says, low and growling “But I think you know that”

Tucker grabs him by the collar with such force that Cass hears the threading of his t-shirt tearing as he’s hauled up, slammed against the wall. He’s instantly winded, breath beaten out of him, and in the moments searching for air he tries to focus, running his eyes over Tucker and realising that the usually immaculately presented man is in fucking disarray.

His hair is pushed wild and unkempt. His shirt is partially untucked, sleeves shoved to the elbows, not rolled. He’s not wearing a jacket. He’s not wearing his glasses. His tie hangs loose around his neck like an untightened noose.

“Are you drunk?”

“Might’ve had a few,” Tucker says, his breath soured with whiskey “Does that make you nervous, Ace?”

Cass tries to catch his breath back in long slow drafts instead of the gasps his lungs are begging for as he gives Tucker another once-over. “Depends what kind of drunk you are, I guess”

Tucker barely holds back a snarl, “I’m not in the mood for cute. You fucked me tonight”

“Oh that was you? I thought it was a particularly tense a-”

Before Cass can even finish the sentence, there’s a fist in his hair and his head is slammed against the wall. He barks a laugh in shock.

“Jeremy Beetham,” Tucker spits “That name mean anything to you?”

“Dunno,” Cass says, trying to blinks through the dizzy “Sounds very ‘my parents paid for me to get off the wait-list at an Ivy League’”

Another slam and Cass grits his teeth, slams his eyes closed. He breathes through his nose, hard, as pain cracks through his head in a blinding flash.

“What about Winona Evans?” Tucker snarls “Leonard Bernadi? Richard Goa? Bellamy Saints?”

“To be honest I think you just made that last one u-”

Another slam. Jesus. He’s gonna lose brain function in a minute.

“You don’t remember them because you never fucking met them, did you?” Tucker says, yanking Cass’ head back with that same relentless grip in his hair “You never met them, you never talked to them, you never named them, and you certainly never got them to meet the settlement contracts I needed you to”

Understanding and annoyance dawn on Cass in the exact same instant.

“This is about that Hellcat thing?” he asks “You’re joking right?”

“Sixteen million dollars in company losses overnight is a pretty expensive joke, don’t you think?”

Okay, Cass reasons. Okay so this is maybe very bad.

“But see the thing is Ace, maybe it is a joke to you. Because you’re not the one who has to talk to the higher ups after that sort of loss, are you?” Tucker’s breath is fucking ripe with booze. He drops his grip on Cass’ hair, his hand instead settling lightly around Cass’ throat. There’s no tension there. Not yet. But there will be. Cass breathes in.“I’m the one who has to have four different meetings, with four different goddamn sectors of the goddamn company. I’m the one that had to figure out how to flip this into a vaguely neutral situation, instead of something bad enough to get us both castrated”

“Well let’s be real, that wouldn’t be much of a loss for y—”

Cass actually sees stars this time. Literal starbursts of white cross his vision and the crack of pain along the back of his skull starts to wrap around and drill in at his temples.

“Shut up,” Tucker spits, his hands tighten around Cassius’ neck as he speaks “I am done with jokes, Ace. We are so far beyond jokes now.”

Cass jerks his shoulders, tries to wriggle out of Tucker’s grip because he’s been violent before, sure. He’s said things like this before, too. But he’s never meant it. There’s never been that look in his eyes.

“See, I had to beg to keep my job today. I had to beg not to have this entire fucking project dissolved. And then I had to beg to keep you from being sent back to Bergen”

Cass freezes, eyes wide.

“Yeah, Ace,” Tucker mutters, a bitter little smile curling his lips. He takes the opportunity to press his hands even closer to Cass’ throat. Cass breathes in. No air comes “That’s right. I had to get down on my fucking knees in front of the fucking director and come up with reasons why Christopher Bergen’s little whore boy shouldn’t get sent right back home to him”

Cass closes his eyes tight, clenches his jaw. It’s fine. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. He’s not going back there. Tucker’s hands squeeze tighter and that’s fine too. Cassius feels his chest start to tighten, the first warning signs of not enough air, and it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine, because he’s not going back there.

“Do you know how many questions I had to answer? Huh? Do you know how much I had to justify your fucking worth to the goddamn company?”

Cass grabs at the hands at his throat, fingers curling around fingers and trying to tear them away. He tries to thrash, but ends up with more of Tucker’s weight pushing down on him than before. He can breathe just barely if he tilts his head up.

“And after all those meetings, after all that time on my knees, I got thinking… Why the fuck was I the one begging? Why was i the one grovelling again and again when it wasn’t my fucking mistake? Huh?”

Tucker’s grip is starting to bruise now. Cass can feel his heart still desperately trying to circulate blood to his brain despite it. A thumping beat beat beat that feels less like a pulse and more like a hammer to the head.

“I’m not gonna get my bonus. I’m not gonna get my promotion. I fucking debased myself for you, again and again and again and as one of the executives so kindly pointed out I’m not even fucking you. So I think I deserve something in return, don’t you?”

Cass hits the wall with his hand and that’s stupid because it’s using up energy he doesn’t have but he needs air.

“Do you know what I want, Cass?” he says, eyes dropping heavy to Cass’ gasping mouth, then back up again “Actually why don’t you tell me what I want, huh? You reach into my head, and you tell me what I want and I’ll let you go right now and consider your punishment paid”

Of course he can’t. He never can with Tucker. It’s cracked and oozing and wrong and his mind flinches away from it before he can touch it like a hand to a flame. He shakes his head, mouth gaping open. He needs air. He doesn’t fucking know. He never knows.

“I want you to beg me,” Tucker spits “I want you to beg me, like I had to beg every single one of those fucking executives. I want you to beg me not to bash your skull in. I want you to beg me not to kill you. And I want you to beg me not to send you right back to the silk sheets I hauled you from because right at this moment I don’t know if I’m all that invested in this little game of ours anymore"

Tucker pushes away from the wall, from Cass, with a hard shove and Cass reels. He sucks in air desperately, hands pressed flat to the wall behind him just to stop himself from doubling over. He tilts his head to the ceiling to make space for oxygen to fall back in.

There’s not enough time for him to catch his breath before Tucker’s back on him again, hand squeezing at his jaw.

“I bet you haven’t begged in your whole life have you, Ace? Certainly not for me”

Cass paints his gaze carefully blank as he makes eye contact, heaving in wheezing breaths. Tucker has that hazed, drunk look of someone who knows exactly what they want and exactly how they’re going to get it. He wets his lips with a quick dart of his tongue and Cass pretends it doesn’t freeze the blood in his veins.

“You begged for him, though. Didn’t you?” Tucker purrs, the faintest hint of a smile at his lips. He reaches out, tucks a strand of hair behind Cassius’ ear, traces his hand down his cheek. Cass doesn’t flinch, even as a wave of cold shock runs through him. “Go on. Darling boy. Show me how you begged for Christopher”

Cass raises his chin higher. He holds Tucker’s gaze as he reaches for the man’s hands, pulling them towards himself until Tucker’s fingers curl back around his own aching throat.

Tucker laughs, a twisted mix of shock and delight. His eyes drop to Cassius’ throat. He licks his lips again. Almost tempted. But then he sneers, “Cute, sweetheart, but not what I asked for"

His knee hits into Cass’ stomach so hard it has the younger man doubled over. Another kick to his legs and his knees are hitting hard on the ground before he even as a chance to straighten. Cass lets out a quiet groan, a little exhale of sound to push out the heaving nausea that hits him as he’s shoved around.

“This is better isn’t it?” Tucker says, looking down on him like he’s just won some prize. His hand trails slowly down Cass’ cheek. Across his jaw. Along his chin. “It’s gotta be muscle memory for you by now, huh? Being on your knees?”

His thumb grazes up to ghost across Cass’ mouth, pulling down his lower lip. Cass knows that look. He’s seen it so many times that having it land on him almost feels like coming home. He wonders, for the barest of moments, if he should bite or suck. Instead he just holds his gaze.

“Thought I wasn’t your type”

Like a spell being broken, Tucker snaps his hand away. He practically snarls with disgust.

“You’re still not"

The blow to the side of his head is expected. It still sends him flying to the ground. Cass catches himself just before his face crashes into the floor. He can taste blood in his mouth, He spits it onto the polished concrete. He��s always liked the way blood and saliva look pooled together, Like they’re their own kind of marble.

“Beg”

Tucker’s foot nudges his shoulder and when he doesn’t move, he’s instead kicked in the gut. And again. And again. And again. And again.

“Beg”

Cass takes a ragged breath. Let’s out a laugh.

The hand in his hair actually hurts this time. And isn’t that funny? The way a thing can hurt and then it can fucking hurt. It feels like his skin tearing from his scalp. He wonders if that was even possible, or if maybe the hair follicles would snap first. Maybe if he survives he’ll look it up.

He feels his head smack into the leg of the desk. He considers telling Tucker that there’ll be more blood if he aims for the temple. More blood was more satisfying, right? Another whack.

“Beg me to stop”

He feels his body being turned over and then he’s being hauled up by his shirt again. His face is being hit. Again. Again. Again. That’s gonna bruise. Shit. Sorry, Henri.

“Or I swear to God I’ll kill you”

He’s dropped, lying flat on his back now with the wind knocked back out of him — Jesus, just give a guy a second to catch his breath. Tucker’s got his knees either side of his hips and his hands are back on his throat.

Cass feels himself laughing again. There’s blood in his mouth. Maybe he bit down on his tongue.

“Can’t beg if I can’t breathe,” he croaks out.

“Can’t talk back either, you little shit”

His throat is already sensitive from earlier, a dull bruised kind of ache that releases and relents as it’s pressed into again. Like his throat knows it’s best served when a tightening grip is settled on it.

The blackness crackles in almost instantly this time, darkening around the edges of his vision like a tide, accompanied with the rush of blood in his ears. He tips his head right back, closes his eyes. He has the passing thought that maybe he’s going to die like this. But that’s fine. It’s fine, it’s fine. Because he’s not going back to Christopher. So if this is what dying is, he doesn’t mind.

As soon as he thinks it, the world comes swimming in again.

“What is it gonna take, huh?” Tucker’s so close to Cass’ face he can feel his spit flecking onto his cheeks. It’s like getting beaten up just before the rain comes in. He’s always kinda liked that. A storm to wash the blood away. “Answer me!”

A blow to his stomach. And another. And another.

Cass feels like he’s floating, like he’s never existed outside of this second here and he never will again. Maybe he hasn’t. Maybe he won’t.

“What’s it gonna take for you to fucking break?”

Cass grins up at Tucker, a swaying haze with three heads up above him, and lets out a laugh that bruises his throat from the inside out, “Why don’ we find out?”

#who forgot i had a bthb card bc i sure didnt #implied or referenced noncon #whump drabble #choking #strangulation #abuse of power #tucker #cassius #nell does bthb

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loreweaver-universe · 4 years

Photo

And that’s the episode.

I HAVE VERY MIXED FEELINGS ABOUT THIS.

On the one hand, a very large portion of the episode was extremely painful to watch. We’re talking, like, The New Lars levels of painful. I hated it while I was watching it. Watching my favorite ship get risked in a very in-universe stupid way was painful to watch. Like The New Lars, it was even in-character for Steven to do this, which is honestly...I’m not sure it’s worse than something like House Guest where Greg went OOC for the whole episode, but it certainly didn’t help.

Unlike, The New Lars, however...

The ending of this episode was great.

Connie gets it. Connie understands. Connie got scared and shocked, but instead of that harming the relationship, she reached out and told him she does love him but the time just isn’t now. This is the most on-screen affirmation of their love for one another we’ve ever had, and after that terrible moment where I watched the shock cross her face, it just all fell into place, and from then on everything was great about the episode. A perfect wind-down from the tension, a positive affirmation of their love, and one perfect final laugh to let all the lingering badness dissipate.

I’m really torn on how to rate this episode. I really think from an objective standpoint it was quite good, but it was also very painful to sit through. If I could split it up between pre-proposal and post-proposal...I almost would. As it stands, though, I think that because of the painful, long windup before that perfect throw, Together Forever comes in at my new #9 for Season 6 (between Bluebird and Guidance) and my new #79 overall (between, fittingly, Together Alone and Guidance.) It was really, REALLY hard to rank, and even now I’m not sure I put it in the right place, but I think that’s where I’m going to settle with it.

Up next for the liveblog is going to be the next episode of Steven Universe, Growing Pains. We’ll be doing that on Monday. Up next for streaming...well, I finished the Black Eagles campaign of Fire Emblem: Three Houses, so it’s back to other games. I think tomorrow I’m going to be streaming some Godhome attempts in Hollow Knight, with perhaps a Steel Soul attempt or two sprinkled in. You can see all of the Fire Emblem and Hollow Knight streams I’ve done by clicking either of those game names. See you there!

Before I go, though:

It feels wrong to say this, when everybody else is being sent home from work and worrying about their livelihoods, but I’m kind of just treading water myself. I make a little over $600 a month from this blog, and between rent, bills, and medicine, that runs out in a hurry. I have not been able to save up any money, even now that I have food stamps and Mainecare, and it’s getting to the point where I’m worried about my future if something serious goes wrong. If you can afford it, I’d really, really appreciate it if you could drop me a few dollars a month over at my Patreon. Anything you can pledge helps me out. There’s a lot fo you who read my blog on the regular; I don’t know how many are active accounts post-purge, but the blog has about 4500 followers. If even a fraction of you pledged a dollar per liveblog, it’d give me some breathing room to work with. Whatever you decide to do, if you decide to pledge, donate, or even just continue reading and watching my content, I appreciate each and every one of you. I’m so glad I can make a living entertaining people, and I hope to be able to afford to do so for a long time to come. Thank you.

IN OTHER NEWS:

I recently completed a blind playthrough of Hollow Knight on Twitch! You can watch all the Hollow Knight streams I’ve uploaded to Youtube by clicking here, or watch me stream other games live at my Twitch channel!

I recently completed a blind playthrough of Steven Universe: Save the Light on Twitch! You can watch all the Steven Universe streams that I’ve uploaded to Youtube by clicking here!

If you’d like to help me pay my rent, buy me some food, or help with my bills and medicine, please use my direct donation link! If you’d like to support me per liveblog completed every month, please pledge to my Patreon! Becoming a patron not only allows you to vote on what shows I do whenever I choose a new one, but also grants access to the community Minecraft server to $5 patrons or higher!

You should also go pledge to Gio’s Patreon–our Discord server maintenance tech, creator of Rubybot, and community Minecraft server overlord deserves far more than I can afford to pledge to him by myself.

If you’d like more of me and my content:

My Episode Lists master page, where you can find every show and liveblog I’ve done!

My Discord server, where you can come hang out with me and other fans, check out member liveblogs, and join community gaming guilds!

My Twitch channel, where I stream variety games every so often!

My Youtube channel, where you can check out past streams!

My ask blog, where you can send me questions and comments!

My Twitter, where I make announcements about liveblogs and streams!

It’s your kindness and support that lets me do this stuff, and I wouldn’t be where I am without all of you to do it for. Thank you all so much for your support, and for tuning in every episode!

OTHER PEOPLE YOU MAY ENJOY:

I may have been one of the earlier Steven Universe liveblogs, but a whole community of livebloggers has sprung up over the last three years! I linked to a bunch individually for a few wrap-ups, but honestly, this end-slate is already eight billion miles long, so I’m just gonna link to my links page. Click here if you want recommendations of other livebloggers, or other neat people, or webcomics and podcasts that I recommend.

#steven universe #steven universe future #suf #subloggin #bloggin #su173 #su episode 168 #episode wrap up

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writing-radionoises · 4 years

Text

overthinking

ship: none, ango & dazai with background odazai

genre: angst?

prompt: ango and dazai meet up as friends for the first time since odasaku’s death

notes: bruh idk. i think about them sometimes. also mom friend ango

The good thing about being a government agent is that you quickly develop a talent for lying.

Well, maybe it’s only good in Ango’s case, but it is still some sad sort of benefit.

It’s been a long awaited meeting for what’s left of their friend group.

Ango and Dazai are sat down at their usual bar, Lupin, a space between them with a glass of alcohol and flowers between them.

It’s something Dazai apparently does every time he comes here, set a place for Odasaku.

Guilt fills Ango’s stomach as he sips at a Shirley Temple, Dazai ordering up a coke and rum from the bartender.

The same thing he’s been drinking since Ango met him.

Dazai and Ango haven’t met up outside of business needs since Odasaku died.

There’s a lot of things Ango wants to ask, but can’t seem to spit out.

Are you happy now?

Do you hate me?

Do you still miss Odasaku?

How is Kyouka doing?

Is there anything I can do to make you happier?

… That last one particularly.

There’s so much that Dazai doesn’t know about. Things that happen behind scenes are secrets to the main cast.

Ango has since mastered the art of hiding feelings.

Dazai will never know how much guilt he feels.

Because, in some sort of way, Odasaku’s death really was his fault. If he hadn’t taken up the Mimic job, then they wouldn’t have gotten into this mess at all. Odasaku wouldn’t be connected to it at all, and he wouldn’t have had to die.

Ango got sloppy, and because of it, now Odasaku is dead.

It’s his fault that Dazai spiraled into depression, into alcoholism.

Ango has been trying to make up for the whole situation since he felt the mafia.

It’s always little things that can be explained as mistakes, packages “sent to the wrong address,” paycheck having a couple more dollars than usual, things like that.

Things that could easily not be contributed to Ango, and instead by chance.

“Ango, how you holdin’ up?” Dazai asked, taking his glass from the bartender as he turned to the other with a smile.

“Just fine,” Ango replies simply, readjusting his glasses as he turns to Dazai.

He’s not fine. So far from fine, he’s sitting here overthinking the entire conversation. Worrying about Dazai, thinking about Odasaku.

What would Odasaku think of this whole situation?

He’d probably laugh, say that Ango was too anxious and uptight, and that Dazai really wasn’t hard to talk to.

He’d say that Dazai can take care of himself, he’s not a little kid anymore.

He’d remind Ango that Dazai has friends now, people who care about him, too.

That Ango no longer has to mother him.

… But Odasaku isn’t here right now to tell him those things.

He’s six feet under, and it’s Ango’s fault.

“That’s good,” Dazai replies, taking a sip of his coke and rum, “... Do you miss Odasaku?”

Yes. Everyday, I think about him everyday. He was such a good man, oh god, why did I kill him?

“Sometimes.”

“Me too,” Dazai said, propping his head up on his hands, “But, I’m sure you’ve noticed. How long has it been since we met up as friends?”

“About four years,” Ango replied, cooly, “Is the agency treating you well?”

The brunette nods, “Very. I love all the people there, thank you for helping me get there.”

“No need to thank me,” It’s the least I could do.

I know you’ll never forgive me, but god I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for destroying your life like that, it’s my fault.

“But I want to,” Dazai insists, “You’ve done so much for me.”

It’s not nearly enough, there’s so much more I want to do for you.

I wish my ability was time traveling. I’d go back and never even become a government agent.

I’d settle as a lawyer and leave you and Odasaku alone.

“Still, there’s no need to thank me,” Ango responded, “I don’t want to be thanked.”

Dazai falls silent, sighing as he runs his hands through his hair.

“What’s it like working as a government agent?”

“It’s nothing special, same thing as always. How is Kyouka?”

“She’s great, she’s fitting in with the agency super well,” he explained, “She’s happy.”

Are you happy?

How did you transition into the agency?

Fukuzawa told me it was rough for you, is that true?

How did you get better?

Do you still feel guilty for working with the mafia?

You were just a kid, a manipulated kid, you don’t need to feel guilty.

It wasn’t your fault.

Do you still think about Mori?

How about Akutagawa? I never hear from him, are you on good terms with him now?

Too many questions.

“You’re quiet, what are you thinking about?”

Fuck, what aren’t I thinking about?

“I saw a cute cat on the way here, I was thinking about if it had an owner,” Ango lied.

“Fukuzawa really likes cats, it’s cute. Ranpo tells me they have around five or six cats,” Dazai said, “... Do you still have the picture of all three of us together?”

Ango nods.

Of course, it’s in my wallet.

You guys were the only family I ever had, it’s only natural I should keep a photo like that in my wallet.

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“I was wondering if I could get a copy of it,” Osamu explained, “I wanted to frame it in my apartment.”

“Oh, I can certainly do that,” Anything to make you happy, “I’ll give the copy to you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Ango.”

“I told you not to thank me.”

Dazai laughs, nodding a no, “There’s no way to really control the Osamu Dazai, is there?”

“No, I suppose not,” Ango replied, feeling a slight smile come to his face.

“It’s about nine, isn’t it?” Dazai mused, “My lover is awaiting me at home, I should probably be going.”

He stands up from the bar, stretching his arms over his head, Ango standing up as well.

“Thank you for the lovely night, Ango,” Dazai said, “We should get together as friends more often. I’ll see you later, goodbye.”

Dazai waves, beginning to walk out of the bar as he turned back to Ango at the door.

Ango waves a goodbye.

I love you. Is that an appropriate thing to say? I love you like a son, like a brother, like family.

You mean so much to me, you deserve the whole world after what I did to you.

“Goodbye, Dazai.”

#bsd #bsd odasaku #bsd ango #bsd dazai #Dazai Osamu #osamu dazai #bsd osamu #ango sakaguchi #bsd sakaguchi ango #sakaguchi ango #writing #writer #writers

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yuna-dan · 4 years

Note

48. meeting again at a high school reunion au with prinxiety?

Hi!! I live the way it ended, and while my intention was to write it romantically, i think it can be read as platonic. Also, wow, it’s been ages since i’ve written a straight relationship (it will make sense, roman is a bisexual™)

I like the way it ended, but not the rest of it. I think it’s very slow.

Warning: Mentions of bullying, racism and transphobia, nothing graphic though.

Buy me a kofi? [Help me, pls] | Masterpost

Tag list: @just-some-gt-trash \ @theunoriginaldaisy \ @awkwardkindanerd \ @cas-is-a-hunter \ @underthesea73 \ @mariita-2006 \ @prinxietyforever \ @you-deserve-the-worlds \ @batpinkstudentpersona \ @such-as-we-are-made-such-we-be \ @obviouslyelementary \ @floatyghosty \ if you wanna be added to the tag list please interact with this

Highschool was weird.

That was an understatement, clearly. For Román Sánchez, a queer kid from an immigrant family, it was nightmare. When he graduated and went to college, he promised himself he would never look back.

Sometimes, he did regret it. Specially for Virgil.

A sigh escaped his lips and he leant his face against the window of the bus, Virgil was his best friend on that period of his life. He was his rock on that time, and Román was his. They stayed in contact a few months after graduation, until Román moved away for college.

It wasn’t that they ended up bad, fighting or just ignoring each other. They just… drift away. They sent each other merry Christmas or felices fiestas or even hey, lol do you remember that time I was so drunk I broke your closet? but somewhere in the middle they stopped.

It was sad, for him at least.

He wondered if Virgil was doing okay. He tried to look him up on his Facebook and Twitter, but apparently, he deleted his profiles.

Román pushed his twin slightly when Remus started dozing off, but at least that broke the train of thought going through his head.

To be honest, he was only coming to this “Lovely Highschool Reunion” in hopes to see Virgil again, and to maybe rubbed on the faces of everyone that bullied him that he was being a very successful actor, who wasn’t hiding his sexuality and was pretty much happy with his life.

Remus left out a snore, breaking Román’s thoughts once again.

“You’re gross.” He mumbled, staring into the window.

“Your face is gross.” His twin grumbled back.

Román laughed softly, and closed his eyes, hoping to sleep a little.-

---

They arrived at a hotel, a day before the party.

“I’m glad my bro is rich, otherwise I would’ve probably ended up sleeping on a park.” Remus said, entering their shared room because Román refused to pay $45 dollars for another one.

“I’m glid mi bri is rich, menso [dumb].” He mimicked, earning a playful glare from his brother who was unpacking.

Remus ended up majoring in psychology, and was working on a police station, helping with profiles of criminals and offering his shrinks advices to policemen who needed it. Román couldn’t be prouder of him.

He remembered, how back in highschool he would prefer dead rather than interact with his twin. They were, to this day, opposites. He hated his guts. That changed, of course, not only after their parents passed away but also as they matured and realized that they only had each other.

Román was bullied most of his highschool years for being a latino, so he tried to hide his heritage as much as possible, while Remus was the latino who would yell Cielito Lindo when something good happened, he even grew a mustache for fuck sake. Román hated it, it made his blood boiled with shame and rage.

Eventually, and with Remus help, he accepted that he wasn’t bullied because he was latino, but because people are assholes.

Now, Remus and Román were best friends, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Wanna go out tonight?” Remus asked, throwing himself at one of the beds.

“Maybe, for a drink.”

“Or… we could stay up late trying to chismear [gossip], I heard that Brad isn’t coming cuz he’s in jail, can you believe?”

Román held back a tiny smile, “Why do you keep contact with this people, Re?”

He shrugged, “El chisme llega a mi, yo no lo pido.” [Gossip arrives, I don’t ask for it]

“Yeah, sure, viejo chismoso.”

In the end, they did end up just chatting and gossiping around their ex-classmates lives, even checking their profiles on the internet and laughing at the cringest photos.

“Do you think he will come?”

“Mmm? Vee?” Remus blocked his phone, “I mean, probably…” He trailed off, not knowing what else to say, “You want him to come?”

“I wish he did…”

Remus hummed, probably thinking as the shrink he is, but said nothing.

When Remus tried to speak again, Roman was already asleep.

This was a bad idea.

Annie stared into the mirror, at the purple dress that Patton had bought him. It was weird, how back in highschool he barely talked to him, and now he was his best friend. Even though, that word tasted weird on her tongue.

“I’m not sure about this.” She said, twirling with the dress on.

“I think you look great, Ann.”

She grumbled.

She would stare into the eyes of people who still thought about her as Virgil, and she wasn’t even sure how to feel about it. She wanted to see Román again, of course, and while she knew she still had his phone, still she wanted to tell him on his face.

“Hey Ro, guess what?”

She postponed it for three years, and now this was probably her last chance. Patton said she was being dramatic, but she felt as if she owed Ro an explanation on why she suddenly stopped talking to him.

She still stalked him on Facebook, more times than she’s proud on admitting. Since she deleted the Virgil Sanders profile and created Annie Sanders, she wasn’t brave enough to send a friend request to him, but she could still see some of his posts, as well as his Instagram account, and since Roman was an actor, he was more public there.

“Stop overthinking, An.” Pat hit her softly on her shoulder, “it’s going to be okay.”

“What if someone makes fun?”

“Then that’s their problem, sweetheart.”

“I hate when you’re optimistic and right.”

Patton chuckled, but didn’t say anything.

“This is boring.” Remus nodded, “The food it’s awful.” Another nod, “People are being hypocrites.” Nod, “And he’s not here.”

“Hey, Ro!” Someone interrupted whatever Remus was going to say, and he just shrugged and went back to his drink and probably texting his significant other. Román turned around, with a smile on his face waiting for another person to say something about how much he changed, only to find Pat and a girl.

“Pat!” He said, a little more excited. Patton wasn’t his friend, per se, but he wasn’t a jerk back then, “How are you?”

Patton seemed nervous, but then again, a highschool reunion wasn’t exactly a place to be calm. “Huh, I’m doing fine Ro, I see you’re in acting, I was very happy when I saw you got a leading role.”

Román felt himself smiling softly, a genuine one, “Oh, thank you very much.”

Then a wicked smile appeared on Pat’s face, grabbed the wrist of the woman behind him, “I actually went with An to see the movie, you should talk with her!” He then turned to Remus, who was watching the whole scene with an amused face, “Ree~ Please come with me!” and grabbed his twin’s arm and walked away.

That was weird.

“Hello? I’m Roman, nice to meet you, Ann.”

The girl looked away, she was blushing. Roman noticed that she was pretty, a sharp jawline, and pretty green eyes her eyes looked like Vee’s. Her gaze was on the floor, as if she was trying to make herself smaller.

“You, huh, I know you.” She looked up, like she was scared, “I meant it like, we’ve already met…”

“Huh? I don’t remember you. Higschool was horrible, for me anyways.”

Ann made a face, like she was hurt, “Then why did you came?”

“I wanted to meet someone. My bestfriend, we lost contact. Maybe you know him? His name is Virgil!”

She winced when the name left his mouth, “I huh, I am him. I mean… surprise?”

Román stared at her, “I’m not understanding you, Ann…”

She took a deep breath and lock her emerald with his own eyes. “I am Virgil.” She winced again, “I was Virgil. I’m trans. Nice to see you again.”

For Ann, time stopped the moment she said the last word. She knew that Román wouldn’t be transphobic, but at the same time she was so damn scared.

“Oh.” He simply said.

Then she felt the way Ro’s arms were circling around her, and she melted instantly on the embrace, “Goddamit Ann.” He was wetly laughing, “You could’ve just told me.”

“I didn’t want to tell you over text, and then… time flies.”

“I missed you so much! I have so much to tell you!”

And just like that, it was like time stopped around them.

It was like time didn’t even went by.

I don’t think there are a lot of MtF fics, and I really wanted to write one, but I wasn’t sure how to, so I hope this is okay.

Thank you so much for reading!!

#yuna's fic #ts fic #sanders sides fic #prinxiety #ts prinxiety #ts #thomas sanders #anxiety sanders #virgil sanders #ts anxiety #ts virgil #prince sanders #roman sanders #creativity sanders #ts prince #ts roman #ts creativity #im tagging this and my cat is just like staring at me demanding to go back to sleep #creativitwins

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haifengg · 3 years

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The Dutch Room - Chapter 3

Find all Chapters here!

“So this is where you keep them.” Johnny said and made Haechan jump as he reached for the cupboard in the far back of the small room.

“Sweet Jesus, Johnny! Why?” The younger employee turned around just now noticing his coworker who sat in the corner, sleeves rolled up and legs crossed. He smiled.

“Since I heard from Doyoung how no-one uses the mugs I supplied the office so generously with I had to find out where all of you keep the personalmugs.” He painted the last adjective with as much disgust as possible.

Haechan, who managed to survive the small heart attack Johny had given him, grinned. “It’s just that this isn’t where we store the cups. It’s where we store the tea. Which you would know, if you wouldn’t only live off coffee.”

Johnny grunted. “Alright then just tell me where the hell you keep them, I really need to know! I’m trying to find out for almost two weeks now.”

The secretary shrugged. “We keep them at our desks. June stores hers somewhere in her office and I’m not sure if Jaehyun even drinks tea or coffee but I bet he has his in his office as well.”

Johnny deflated. “I really hate it here.”

“You sure do.” Haechan mocked his overly dramatic behavior and decided to go with it. “This a whole new level of office betrayal towards you.”

“Speaking of which,” Still remaining seated Johnny scanned Haechan from head to toe with searching eyes. “why do you look so neglected?”

“Neglected?” He stopped making tea just to look at Johnny with his brow frowned. “What about me looks neglected??”

“Your clothes! I’m not giving you free fashion advice for you to sleep on it. Where is the tiepin?” Haechan responded brusquely: “I don’t own one.” And Johnny let out a small unbelieving laughter.

“Who are you? The secretary?”

The sassy comeback Haechan was thinking of just this second, died on the tip of his tongue as June entered the kitchen and answered Johnny’s question for him.

“He is my secretary. At least he is if his job description did not change in the last 10 minutes he wasn’t at his desk. And are you really expecting him to wear a tie pin when he doesn’t even wear a tie 4 out of 7 days a week?”

“Maybe that’s why he’s only a secretary. And by the way why am I not getting an assistant?” Johnny complained more to himself than anyone in particular.

“You don’t even have enough work to keep yourself busy. Speaking of which, why are you still here? It’s not as if your workload requires you to work overtime. It’s the middle of the night you could be home sleeping.”

He smiled widely. “To keep y’all company.”

June placed her cup in the sink and turned around. As always by this time of the night she had her sleeves rolled up and the filigrane golden watch dangling from her wrist. She had tied her hair back in a low ponytail and tucked behind the ears.

“Yeah sure, because we’re always so thrilled to see you.”

“Is Doyoung still here as well or is it just us?” Haechan chimed in. He took the seat on the opposite side of the small table where Johnny was sitting.

Overall it was really interesting to observe how everyone’s sense of fashion declined as the light of day faded.

Johnny who, with a few exceptions, always wore a suit at the office had tossed the jacket aside hours ago and rocked his usual loose tie pencil behind the ear thing. He as well had the sleeves rolled up, tucked messily under the black sleeve holders.

As for Haechan everyone was weirdly happy he was dressed appropriately. Even if not very fashionable. For a fact Johnny was actually giving him honest fashion advice for quite some time now but it took a lot of work and convincing before Haechan would follow any of those.

Johnny stretched and yawned. “I think he’s at Taeil’s. I saw him leaving earlier.”

“Is the new one still here? What was her name again …”

Haechan’s superiors answered with one voice: “Song.” And then looked at each other. The secretary noticed none of which.

“Where does she work? Now that I think of it I don’t even know. There aren’t any empty offices left on this floor and as far as I understand we’re still not using the third floor.”

“I think it’s the old storage room beneath the roof. The one we kept the files before Jaehyun made us go through them and transfer them.”

“Did one of you guys even see her since she started here?”

June and Haechan looked at Johnny, thinking about his question and then all reached the silent agreement that in fact they didn’t.

***

The three of them stood in front of the dusty old door which blocked the path to the storage room. Except it wasn’t as dusty as it used to be and light spread from behind the door onto the floor beneath their feet.

“So … are we just going in?” Johnny asked, moving up and down on his toes, eyeing June. Something about her presence always made him refer to her as the person in charge. Or at least assume she was the one with a plan. Maybe it’s because she not just looked great in YSL but looked more like owning the entire brand.

“Of course.” She said and knocked on the door three times and before the men at her side could respond with anything, the door opened and Song showed up in front of them.

“Yes? Oh, it’s you. Whoever you are.” The woman behind the door was shorter than June, matching the Height of Johnny’s chin so that she had to look up to ⅔ of the group. The fact that Haechan was the shortest member of the party did not seem to bother her at all.

She had her hair tugged back the same way June wore hers and the messy bangs fell into her face randomly. The white oversized dress shirt she was wearing didn’t have a single spot of color on it, just like the straight leg jeans. As she looked from one face to the next Johnny noticed small and subtle earrings dangling and peeking through the dark straight hair.

June gave the young woman one of her rare smiles. The ones even Haechan barely got to see and Johnny had never encountered before.

“We are your coworkers. I’m sorry for barging in on you like this at this hour but since Jaehyun didn’t bother to introduce you to us we thought we should come by and say hi. May we come in?”

Song opened the door wide enough for the three people to enter the room and closed it behind them.

Johnny looked around as soon as he stepped in, wondering if the room had always been this big. Then he remembered how one couldn’t see the other side of it at the time it was still the storage for years of paperwork and shrugged. He also remembered how much he hated coming to this former very dusty place.

Instead of being filled with files, shelves and boxes the chamber now resembled an apartment. A rather shitty one but it still had everything one needed to get by. Even windows. Though he couldn’t remember having seen them before.

This place having been turned into a studio/apartment solved the mystery about why they didn’t see her down in the office. Haechan asked himself if she was even leaving work to go home or if she just crashed in here.

Song walked up to the kitchen which was situated right next to the door and turned around facing them while leaning against the counter. “Can I get you anything?”

“Actually-” Haechan began but June broke him off mid-sentence.

“We just had coffee so we’re good thank you.”

They all looked at each other. Song eyed the intruders carefully, facing three strangers in her atelier.

June was watching her interestedly, searching for every single little detail that would give her a bit more information about her. Anything that wasn’t written in the staff file was important and couldn’t be missed.

Johnny on the other hand wasn’t scanning her as carefully as June but he now fully understood what Doyoung meant when he told him last week about how Song was different to June. This woman seemed so … harmless. Sitting in her studio painting all day long. Somehow managing to stay clean … they both were very similar but then again so different.

Meanwhile Song, June and Johnny stared at each other, Haechan was the only one not taking part in his apparent group activity and scanned the room for a toilet. He really shouldn’t have had that tea earlier.

“So… who are you?” Song asked, not moving an inch from her position.

“I’m June.” She said, deciding to briefly introduce them before one of her male teammates could rush into hastily giving out sensitive information. Yes, they all were meant to be a team and work together as a whole but whether they would do or not was still up to them. Trusting each other was something Jaehyun couldn’t decide for them.

“I do most of the paperwork in this company and pretty much everything runs through my hands at some point. That’s Haechan, he’s my assistant/secretary and the dense looking himbo here is Johnny.”

With those words she put a hand on his shoulder and made him snap out of stare at Song who seemingly did not notice he was.

“To be honest I don’t even know what’s his task at hand. I feel like no-one does.”

Johnny turned his head towards June. “I can’t believe how bad you’re making me look, why do you always do that?”

June smiled at him which sent a cold shiver down his spine. “Because it’s easy.”

“And because you deserve it.” Haechan chimed in and continued this time turning to Song: “I’m really sorry but where is the restroom?”

Both June and Johnny looked at Haechan with the most confused faces about that last remark but Song just pointed to the back of the studio where Haechan ran off to quickly.

“This is so weird”, Johnny stated and laughed a bit embarrassed. “We just came to get to know you a bit since we’re …” He ran out of words and looked at June for help.

“... are a bunch of notorious criminals about to steal, forge and replace art worth a few millions of dollars?”

“I was going to say ‘coworkers’ but yeah that too.”

Song chuckled. “No no, it’s alright I get it.” She sighed. “We have to get to know each other. Relying on other people is a big part of the job and it’s necessary to pull the whole thing off successfully. I just didn’t make it downstairs yet because I have to finish another piece for my last client before I can start working on the new commissions.”

She pointed at the easel near the window. And the two people followed her gesture.

“May I?” June asked and approached it with her heels clicking on the floor with every step, as Song nodded.

She looked at the painting for a minute in silence before she said: “Now this is delicate. I can see why you chose her.”

Johnny looked up to find Song looking at him and June still examining the work.

“’Chose me’? What exactly does that mean?” A pinch of suspicion mixed into her tone, as Song rose an eyebrow.

June chuckled. “One of the according to him ‘many things’ he does is recruitment. Though it’s the only thing I saw him doing in a while.”

Johnny looked from Song, who was staring at him, to June, who was still paying full attention to the painting, and cursed his coworker once more this evening wondering why the hell he made her look so bad. She truly was mean.

Song pushed away from the counter and crossed the room between her and Johnny with a few big steps, just to stop right in front of him. “Were you the one breaking into my apartment?” She asked, suddenly shooting daggers from her eyes that had Johnny raise both his hands in surprise.

“No! I did not. Well, I was asked to do it but I was busy that day, so Doyoung did it.”

As quickly as her temper flared up, it cooled down again and she took a step back from Johnny, returning to a conventional and appropriate distance.

“The one with the tea?”

“Jaehyun made Doyoung offer you tea?” June asked, done silently marveling at Song’s work.

“He did.” Haechan piped up, finally returning from his restroom journey. “He even used her own cup.” He looked at Johnny as he added: “The one he made Doyoung steal from her apartment.”

“He did what?” Johnny exclaimed, fully forgetting where he was and why they came there now solemnly thinking about how he would confront Jaehyun about this.

June straightened her back and linked arms with both of the men. “That’s our cue. Again, I’m sorry we barged in on you like this.”

She walked towards the door, dragging the guys with her. “You should come down from time to time and visit us.”

Song followed this weird group with her eyes, unsure if she should laugh about this or just wonder about those strange people.

“Same goes for you. My door is more or less always open.”

Haechan chimed a quick ‘see ya!’ over his shoulder before June could kick the door shut with her heel a

nd shove them into the elevator.

The doors closed behind them.

“What the hell was that??” Johnny exclaimed, as the small car started moving.

Haechan laughed. “Did you really want to scare her with your weird obsession about this company and everyone’s personal mugs? I for my part think it was a good call. A little bit rushed but a good call.”

The car went down and as they passed floor after floor the boys went on bickering about this and that. About how Haechan has no taste in fashion and how Johnny should mind his own business and should go see a therapist about his fetish for crockery.

June stood between them, decided to have her own thoughts on the matter. Yeah sure, his cutlery obsession is one reason. Though there is also the way he couldn’t stop staring at her and how she didn’t notice it. But I’m not going to tell either one of you until you notice it yourself.

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#nct127 #nct127 scenario #nct127 scenarios #nct127 imagines

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doomfisthero · 4 years

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Magnum Residue

It's taken me a long while to post this, primarily because I wanted to make sure it was necessary. A while back, I saw the music video for "Magnum Bullets" and was so inspired that I had to create my own follow-up to the story. I sent it off to NSP in hopes that they might be interested in a follow-up themselves, but only heard back fairly recently that they couldn't accept unsolicited submissions.

In response, I asked them if there was any way that I could work on the project for them formally, and have yet to receive a reply. While I'm still holding out some measure of hope, I figure it couldn't hurt to share my work informally, at least until something comes of it. I do hope you all enjoy my work - I'm honestly incredibly proud of what I've created here.

I’ve also cross-posted this on AO3 here.

Time: Immediately after the assassination of Hanley Moors; Location: City of Neoxsoma, outside the Manse

Trine weaved through the shadowed alleyways, getting further away from the Manse. The narrow crevices of Neoxsoma were a prison to all but the most familiar with them, but Trine had run through those cracks for years. Slowly, the alarms of NX Security swarming the blood-stained tower faded away into the starless night.

There was a flash of regret as the triangle-crested wolf recalled leaving behind their companions. They'd felt such an urge to leave, to be anywhere else, that Stelle and Cube didn't even register to them. But those two would never let themselves be captured anyway; Stelle would tear barehanded through anyone in her way, and Cube would make sure to stay three steps ahead no matter how many arms he still had.

No, when the police made their way to the penthouse, and passed through the grand doors, they'd find only the fruits of a well-deserved vengeance. The corpses of Moors' guards and hired guns, lifeless amalgams of fur, flesh, feather, and ferrous streaming dried blood onto the spotless floors. And at their head, a lifeless torso with a hole through its chest, the miserable bastard responsible for everything. The one with the bloodiest hands of all.

Hanley Moors had been a symbol of power and opulence in Neoxsoma since long before Trine and Cube made their way to the city together. In a society where animated metal and mingled flesh was a status symbol, Moors created a new echelon of prestige, forsaking flesh entirely for a powerful, perfect new body and a face of constructed light hovering above. As if to look down upon his acquaintances and remind them with every glance that his power alone was enough to transcend the physical entirely.

Not that it had mattered. For such a grand display, to perish by an old and ordinary revolver; an undignified death, exposing the hollowness that he'd hidden all along.

Still, Trine wished that they hadn't dropped Gamble's gun when they'd left. They felt barren without it, even if they could only tuck it into their pocket. The weight in their hand, the solidity of the cool metal against their palm, would have been a welcome feeling right about now.

But anything would, really.

After what felt like a night's worth of running between buildings, Trine slowed as the narrow gap emptied out into the street. The mustiness of the alleyways cut out as the brilliant neon streetlights made Trine flinch.

The buildings lining the street were dark, save for the stray light shining out from a window. It was a waste of neon to provide the back roads with the same extravagance as the city’s major veins. For now, however, the lack of light and life made an ideal escape route.

Trine forced themself to slow down now that they were out in the open. They slid their hands casually into their pockets and strode down the sidewalk in long steps, moving in the direction of...

The hideout. Trine stopped and grit their teeth as the image flooded back in. Blood and agony, tangible smells on the air. Cube – dear little brother – bleeding and torn on the floor. Beloved friends strewn lifeless across the room.

And Gamble...

Gamble...

Trine sank to the ground, their whole body curling painfully inward. Their claws curled around thick handfuls of their jacket. They should have been there, with everyone else. Laying down their life to protect their own would have been so simple.

But they'd been gone – too busy perusing the back alleys for people seeking Gamble's newfound arson bounty. They'd been the mouth and ears, and Stelle the sword carving a message into any would-be hunters.

It hadn't done a flicker of good. Not when Moors and his militia stormed into their den and slaughtered everyone where they sat. Even with the prize of Moors' gold back in their hands, there was too much that they could never take back.

Even with Moors' cold, metallic heart snuffed out, everyone and everything that Trine, Stelle, and Cube had loved died with it. Stelle's family would never accept their daughter back knowing the truth of her gang activities. Cube's missing arm and eye would make his mechanic’s training so much harder, if he wasn't outright dismissed for it.

And Trine...Trine felt nothing. Nothing but nothing where their heart and friends and family and hopes for the future once rested. It had all been blown away.

It was a long time before Trine could rise back to their feet and continue onward into the black night.

Time: Two months after the assassination of Hanley Moors; Location: City of Neoxsoma, Residential Structure Vega

Stelle adjusted her scarf and the wide brim of her hat as she descended yet another flight of stairs. There were even fewer residents in this part of the structure than the preceding ones, but it would only take one intruder to throw herself and Cube back into the sights of a firing squad. She continued along the cramped gray hallways through the middle of the structure, curving through intersections at a seeming whim.

The part of Stelle's mind that once accused her of paranoia no longer made such claims. Moors' blood hadn't even dried before every screen in the city lit up with news of that night’s gold-fueled vendetta. Stelle, Cube, and Trine alike had all been thrown up into the neon along with their lost friend Gamble.

(She'd only been an arsonist and a thief, but Stelle and the others were terrorists and murderers atop that.)

Trine had left on their own after firing the bullet that robbed Moors of his life and his gold, leaving the spoils to Stelle and Cube. Once it had become evident in the next few days that seeking them out wasn't an option – not with security and every hunter in city limits after their newfound bounty – the two remaining wolves chose to lie low for a while. Renting a half-decent apartment from one of the mass-produced structures in the residential district had cost mere shavings of a gold bar, once they'd run that money through the proper channels with what influence Stelle still carried.

As Stelle moved outward toward the structure's shell, she finally stopped in front of one thin, metal door. Once she knew that the hallway was empty, she quietly unlocked the door and slipped inside.

The lights in the single-room apartment were already on, and its other tenant turned his head as Stelle entered.

“Hey,” said Cube – so named for the glowing green square on his forehead. He sat on his mattress with his back against the wall, his long legs stretching out onto the coarse beige carpet. “I thought you'd be home later. Is everything okay?”

Only once Stelle had shut the door and sunken onto her own mattress opposite Cube's did she remove her hat and scarf and allow her fur to breathe. “One of my deliveries was canceled. He said he'd been replaced at the algae refinery and couldn't afford a gift for his partner anymore.” She sighed, sliding her delivery tote off her back. “Pity, I would have earned a bonus for keeping that necklace safe.”

She dropped a bag from the local deli onto her mattress – dinner for the two of them tonight.

Cube's prosthetic whirred as the four fingers spun slowly around his rounded 'palm'. “Sounds like we both had a rough day,” he said wearily. “I got stiffed on a repair job for one of the bars downtown. They said the jukebox was too jerky when it switched songs.” He picked at the half-assembled cassette player on his lap. “I spent two hours on it, too.”

That was the sad reality of holding a job in Neoxsoma; if the person paying you was getting screwed over too, then you could call yourself lucky, because at least you weren't alone. But mostly you got pushed down and left behind. It was rough for anyone, but a freelancer like Cube only had his reputation, and reputations were so much easier to break than to keep standing.

Suddenly, Cube looked up from his lap. “Hey, Stelle?” He started slowly, rubbing the claws on his right hand together as he thought. “We're not, uh, using the money we took from Moors for anything right now, right? If we're running a little low on cash—”

“Cube, no,” Stelle cut him off firmly. “We can't raise any suspicions by spending money we shouldn't have. We'll find another way to get by this week.”

“Who's even gonna know?” Cube shot back. “Nobody dangerous pays attention to anyone from here. We're just vermin in their gutters.”

He waved his hands at the dull metal walls of their apartment. “And can you blame them, if everyone here lives like this? It's nothing – and we can still barely afford it! They're not going to notice if we spend a little more than usual!”

Stelle stared him down. She had wondered about this, whether their current situation was tenable. Cube wasn't a fool; even without the exact numbers, he had to know that their shared income was barely keeping up with the costs. A couple weeks of low pay could easily do them in at this rate, and Moors had given them at least several million dollars in gold even with all of the fees paid under the table. They could afford their apartment for well past a lifetime, or a much better, safer home with plenty to spare.

But Stelle had borne witness to the allure of riches for her entire life, and what it could drive decent people to. She'd left that behind, left them behind. She didn't think she could do it again.

“We can't risk it. Not until we're certain that everyone has stopped searching for us,” she said, firmly keeping her eyes on Cube. “I'll take on more deliveries if we need them, and you can keep doing your repair jobs.”

There was a tense moment of silence, and then Cube slapped his mattress and shot to his feet, sending the cassette player clattering to the floor.

“For what? To stay cooped up in this goddamn metal box?!” Cube shouted, pulling his lips back to reveal his fangs. “I hate it here, Stelle! I want out! I'm sick of acting like we're doing something when we're just hiding! We need to find Tr—”

“Trine wouldn't want you getting killed looking for them, Cube,” Stelle cut him off. “They would want us to be safe first. They can take care of themselves just fine until then.”

She hoped.

“Are you listening to yourself?” Cube growled. “They just left us – they didn't even say goodbye! Does that sound just fine to you? We need to find them!”

“Not yet, Cube.”

“Then when?!”

“When you can go outside without feeling once like anyone could be watching you,” Stelle finally snapped back, glaring up at Cube with the most forceful look she could manage.

It must have been impressive, as Cube flinched back, mouth open but no sound leaving it. Eventually, he gave up and sank back onto his mattress, furiously returning to tampering.

Stelle welcomed the feeling of regret that replaced her obstinate anger. It wasn't fair to knock Cube down when he'd already been through so much, when his older sibling was still gone without a single sign of life. He was still far too young to have deserved any of it. At least Stelle could have pointed to her high-class parentage and called it an exercise in humility.

Things had been very different just a few months ago. The kid had been working through his apprenticeship with a local mechanic, and he'd been doing good work. Most days he came back to the den with a tired smile and stories about all the people he'd met and fixed things for that day, surrounded by friends and with Trine the proud big sibling holding him to their side.

Cube lived off of spreading that joy more than any money he could have brought in. He made what could have been a difficult life so much better.

Then Moors ripped his eye and his arm from him, and no prosthetics could make up for how far Cube had been set back. Stelle felt bad most days for the lackluster robot arms she'd been able to obtain for him; the first one had been a hefty crab claw, good for throwing thugs around but not so much for refined work, while his current one was a slender but sturdy limb leading to a rounded end with four jointed fingers extending from the ‘wrist’.

It was certainly more dexterous, especially as Cube mastered moving his fingers along the circumference of his new hand, but even the most lifelike robotic limbs required time to figure out. Coupled with the wolf's ruined left eye – which he'd furiously refused to replace with another prosthetic – it was clear even before Cube went on the run that his education had met a cruel end.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. The two of them sat on the floor together and ate dinner, and then Cube tucked all of his tools away and crawled onto his mattress with a quiet “good night”. Stelle watched him until she was certain that he'd drifted off, and then she laid down upon her own bedding.

Her body sank into the mattress, just barely kept off the hard floor underneath, and Stelle turned to face the wall away from Cube – and away from the window that was still pouring the beginnings of twilight into their apartment. Most rooms in this structure didn't have windows at all, and Cube had begged to live somewhere with natural lighting. It had been one of Stelle's few concessions.

Stelle closed her eyes and let out a quiet sigh. She had been too hard on him, she could accept that now. The past two months had been so very hard for both of them, but at least Stelle had no family to miss, and no need to beg anyone for a little bit of sunlight.

Tomorrow, they could start looking for someplace else to live. They would still need to be smart about it, but there had to be somewhere in this city that let them hide with a little more comfort.

And Trine...Stelle still didn't know what they would do about Trine. She could only hope that they'd found sanctuary, if not for herself than certainly for the little brother that they'd left behind.

Amidst all of the plans, thoughts of comfort, and worries for tomorrow, somehow Stelle found the strength to let go and fall into slumber.

As the sun slid below the horizon and the night marched into the quiet hours of morning, neither wolf was awake to see a dark shape hanging from the building outside of their window, and neither of them heard the rectangle of glass being slowly, quietly cut open.

By the time the cool air from outside flowed into the room and shocked the two awake, the figure would be gone, leaving only a package of their own in their place and a brief message scrawled in red ink on a piece of paper.

Won't you help us break this wretched city?

P.S. Security is on their way, you'll want to hurry out of there.

Time: Meanwhile; Location: City of Neoxsoma, outside Tsunokeji Tower

Wherever the privileged went, they had both the blessing and the curse to cast shadows. It wasn't possible to hold so much light in their hands without a looming darkness stretching back behind them. And there was always going to be somebody, even one person, who would be lost in that darkness, unseen and uncared for.

Nowhere did that ring true more than a city like Neoxsoma. In daytime, the buildings were tall enough to cast their own shadows, drowning everyone below in a shaded sea. In nighttime, their penthouse lights cast synthetic auroras over the skyline, too high to ever be reached; everyone below could only make do with the flickering neon and harsh digital screens supplied as placation.

Of course, people spoke of climbing up toward the lights at the peaks of metal, glass, and stone, and making a home among them. Many watched the skyline with spiteful eyes, dreaming of the day that somebody would be cast down from on high and perish upon the pavement. But most didn't dare dream, only averting their eyes from the lights and seeking contentment in the shadows far below.

None of them had any idea of how simple climbing a mountain could really be.

Trine slid their keycard from their pocket and waved it in front of the card reader. The reader beeped and flashed green, and Trine pushed through the door into the lobby of Tsunokeji Tower. In the dead of night, the high rise was silent and empty, lit only by the soft glow of the light fixtures on the walls – a glow seemingly absorbed by the deep chestnut-stained walls and dark red carpeting.

On the opposite wall from the residential elevators was the penthouse elevator – no different from the others save for the swirling golden trim – and Trine slid their key into the reader and entered the elevator code. The doors swung open almost immediately, as though the elevator had been waiting for them.

They stepped inside and pressed the up button, adjusting their hoodie as the elevator closed. Trine was pretty sure the Horans had installed cameras in the elevator, and they needed to keep the glowing purple triangle on their forehead away from electronic eyes.

Trine fixed their grip on the grocery bags in their hand as the elevator finally slowed down and stopped. The doors opened obediently into the penthouse living room, a vast area with walls painted soft white, and an enormous glass wall on the opposite side that opened into a large personal courtyard. The couches and chairs were decadent, each one a piece of heaven worth thousands.

The Horans were new money, having risen to wealth through an urban development empire that had built the last few decades of this city. They'd wasted no time snapping up part of the skyline for themselves, so much wasted space that they were far too busy to ever use.

The thought made Trine's hackles raise and lips curl in disgust.

They carried their bags into the kitchen area nearby (near spotless from disuse and cleaning) and quietly flipped on the light switch before setting the bags onto the counter – gently, to avoid jostling the fifty-cent pistol buried underneath everything that Trine had picked up from the market. There was also a change of clothes tucked in there, but that wasn't as much of a hazard.

“What were you doing?”

Trine stiffened and turned all the way around. A small, skinny oryx stood in the space between the kitchen and the living room, dressed in pajamas made of the softest, likely most expensive silk that one could find in this city. He rubbed his tired eyes, regulated breaths audible in the silence.

Trine's initial shock faded into a warm and gentle smile. “Hey, Luka. Did I scare you?” They asked softly, kneeling down to meet the young boy at eye level. “Sorry about that. We haven't picked up groceries in so long that I thought I'd run out and get something.”

“But it's two in the morning,” the oryx whined, stifling a yawn. He winced as his artificial lungs pumped in another breath, cutting it off with a choking sound from his throat. Trine reached out to him, but Luka held out his hands to stop them. “I was waiting for you. I thought you left me...” He said, curling into himself.

Trine exhaled and reached out again, this time to wrap their arms around their charge and hold them close. “I'm so sorry, little guy. I was just swinging by the store real quick. I thought we could have something special for breakfast tomorrow.” They rested their cheek against the side of Luka's head, and held the child's head and back in one hand each, careful to avoid his straight, pointed horns.

Luka moaned quietly in Trine's grasp but didn't pull away. “Everyone leaves eventually, you know. I figured you'd gotten tired of me too,” he said, burying his face into the crook of Trine's neck.

“Hey, that's not true,” Trine murmured. They stroked Luka's back with their fingertips, just the way he liked it. “I'm not going anywhere, I swear. If you hadn't hired me, I'd be homeless right now, you know? You saved me, Luka. So I'm gonna stay right here and look out for you, like I promised. However long you need me.”

The penthouse was silent, save for the sound of Luka's artificial lungs rising and falling in his chest. Evidently he'd been born with a respiratory defect, and at some point his parents decided it would be simpler to just tear his lungs out and replace them – and everything else below his larynx. Trine couldn't begin to explain how everything connected inside his chest, but it kept him alive.

It didn't keep the boy's parents around, however. They'd enrolled him in online education, bought him everything he needed to succeed, and then left him behind like a pet. Their only remaining consolation was hiring a caretaker, and they still left most of it to Luka himself.

The young boy pushed his face into the crook of Trine's neck. “I could need you for a long time, Trine,” he whispered. Such sorrow in his voice, but he never shed a tear. Maybe he never found a point. He gripped the front of Trine's shirt in two small bundles of cloth.

“Then I'll stay for a long time,” Trine whispered back. Until they found Cube and Stelle and figured out what to do next. Until Luka's wretched excuses for parents returned home, and...

They smothered the burning feeling that oozed into their chest. Tonight had gone on long enough.

Finally, Trine pulled away and put a smile on their face for Luka. “Now let's get you back to bed. You’ll have to be up early for your online class.”

Luka's lips pursed, like there was something he wanted to say. Trine waited patiently until the oryx spoke. “Will you sit with me until I fall asleep?”

Trine brushed the top of Luka's head with a feather's touch. “Of course, little buddy. Always,” they said, taking his hand as they rose back up. Once Luka fell asleep – however long that took – they still had to put away all of their groceries.

By morning, the story would likely be everywhere, how real estate tycoon and esteemed philanthropist Ingrid Meir had been shot dead in her apartment following a bomb scare and evacuation, killed with a pistol so scratched up inside that any markings on the bullet would be useless. Her fellow point-one-percenters would trade sorrowful stories of her fierce, generous spirit, of the woman who had given so much to help the downtrodden of the city.

Trine would know better. And although the void in their chest wouldn't be filled by the death of a single socialite, they would remember that Neoxsoma ran deep with rot. And there was always another infestation to cleanse.

And one day, Trine didn't know when, the void left behind by Gamble and the rest of their family would be full again. It would be.

So few people understood how simple climbing a mountain truly was. Once you dedicated your entire being to a purpose, once you forsook the notion that there were actions you couldn't take in that pursuit, it left so very little that you couldn't do.

#magnum bullets #post canon #tri #star #square #my wriitng #long post #story #ninja sex party #night runner

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return-of-a-space-cowboy · 4 years

Note

If it's not too much trouble I'd like to request 19 with Weather Report!! Thank you, thank you!! I can't wait for February!!

No problem.

Eye of the storm

(yandere Weather report X female reader)

You looked down at your arm as you sat on the small bunk of your cell looking down at the black line on your hand. You couldn't believe you had been convicted for the murder of your boyfriend. You had told the police all that you knew, it was all just a horrible freak accident but no one else seemed to think so and that's how you ended up in Green dolphin street prison.

However a voice pulled you out of you saddened state.

"Hey you must be new here, I haven't seen you around before" a feminine voice from the next cell over said.

"Yeah... I just got brought in today" you replied.

"Yeah the first week in is the tough part, it's my fifth week in if it makes you feel any better"

"So what got you in here anyway? you look too soft to have done anything" she asked

"My boyfriend ended up in a freak accident in our house and I've been charged with second degree murder for his death" you explained and the female let out a little chuckle.

"Wait! What's so funny?!" You hissed.

"Nothing sorry... It's just I got charged with murder for my boyfriend's death in a car accident" she replied.

"The justice system is fucking ridiculous" you sighed. You didn't care who you were talking to, you were just glad to talking to someone.

☁️☁️☁️

You woke up the next morning, part of just thought it was all a terrible dream but when you looked at the shadows of the cells bars on the bare walls you knew it wasn't. The day was going to be a slow and painful one, you just knew it.

First you had to hit the showers and it wasn't the type of shower you were use to, they didn't even bother having cubicles the shower heads were just all lined on both sides of the a long tiled hallway. Everyone in there could see you fully bare.

You got catcalled and harassed, one girl even had the audacity to slap you ass. You didn't like it at all. You felt so exposed having all these other women that you had never met eye you up and down.

Then breakfast was after. The food didn't look so good but you ended up wearing it before you could even eat it after one woman shoved into you.

"Oh look what you've done to my breakfast!" She said in a sassy tone.

"What are you talking about it's perfectly-" you were saying before she tipped her tray over you causing baked beans and runny egg yolks to drip down your head and shoulders.

"You better pay up for ruining my breakfast, I want twenty dollars right now!" she hissed with a voice laced with venom as she pulled you away from the crowd.

"Twenty dollars! We're in a prison, how I'm I suppose to get money in here, twenty dollars never the less!" You exclaimed before she grabbed you by the shirt, you were practically on you tippy toes.

"Stupid bitch!" She yelled in your face. You looked around hoping there was a guard somewhere or that they were watching on camera but there was no guards and you were in a blind spot for the camera's.

'Well if your not gonna pay me with money then you'll just have to do a few favours for me" she whispered in your ear as you felt one of her knees grind between your thighs. You let out a gasp in shock as you began to struggle.

"Oh I bet you'll squirt so hard when I start to rub myself against you" she cooed.

"No, no... I'm sorry but I don't do it that way" you explained.

"Trust me after I make you cum you will" she argued in a sweet tone.

"I don't know if you understand me but I'm telling you I'm not into chicks... Just leave me alone" you said as you began to panic.

"In prison any dick whore can be bent into a pussy slut, I'm letting you off easy for what you did right now so don't make me change my mind!" She said as you could see her patience was wearing thin.

"Just let me fuck you danm it!" She yelled only for a strange creature appeared beside you and punched her in the face causing her to let go of you and fall back.

You stood in shock as you saw her get to her knees and let out a hiss.

"There is no need to be afraid, the effects have already begun" The pink and white creature beside you said in a whispy voice.

"You..." The woman hissed before standing up and pointing her finger at you.

"You are such a mess, I'll give you twenty dollars just go to the showers and give a guard ten dollars then you can get something better to eat after with the other ten" he said as she gave you two ten dollar notes.

"Actually take all my money! I'm sure someone as beautiful as you deserves more!" She gushed as she pulled out a possibly seventy five dollars.

"What the fuck?" You muttered under your breath before looking at her face and seeing three heart shaped bruises under her eye before she left.

"For a moment there I thought I was gonna have to save your ass" a familiar voice said.

You turned around to see a green and black haired female approach you.

"Sorry for not introducing myself properly last night, the names Jolyne Cujoh" she said as she shook your hand.

"(Y/n) (L/n)..." You said in shock as to what happened.

"Honestly I want you to tell me what the fuck just happened?" You said to her before looking back to find the creature had disappeared.

"I'm guessing that you only just got your stand" she said. You fell into a fit hysterical laughter as she said that.

"Yeah, coz I totally just got a stand from eBay that is haunted by a creature sent to this place!" You laughed. You fell on the floor and rolled on it. You were not taking these changes well.

Jolyne rolled her eye and lightly kicked you in the stomach.

"Get up and get cleaned up, I'm going to introduce you to some people"

☁️☁️☁️

Jolyne dragged you across the prison til you both stood in front of one of the walls.

"Jolyne, what's so special about this? It's just a wall" you asked. She didn't give you a verbal response and instead walked towards it and eventually through it. You were absolutely flabbergasted by what you had just witnessed. You just couldn't help but stand in shock before she dragged you in.

On the other side was a nicely presented entertainment room with a large framed pop art poster and a grand piano. In the room were a couple of other people. A Hispanic woman in a green shirt and fair skinned girl with green hair and wearing denim overalls, a pink haired male that you almost thought was a woman, another male with a white buffalo hat and a young blonde haired boy in a Cubs uniform.

"Jolyne, who's this?" The Hispanic woman asked as she flicked her braids to the side.

"Oh this is (Y/n), she's a new inmate that ended up in the cell next to mine, funny enough she turned out to be a stand user" Jolyne explained as she nudged you.

"Come on, show it off" she whispered to you.

"I don't know how, I just got the danm thing!" you whisper shouted.

Then the green haired rolled her eyes.

"Come on just show us, we won't judge" she said.

"What makes you think we can trust her, she might back stab us, she might be working for Pucci" the man with the white hat said.

"I don't think she is... She was absolutely spooked when she saw her stand" Jolyne explained.

"How about we just give the poor lady a rest, she looks as pale as a ghost" the pink haired male spoke up as he approached you and rested his hand on you in a reassuring manner.

"My name is Anasui dear" he said in a charming manner as he kissed your hand which made your heart flutter.

"I'm Foo fighters!" The green haired girl said in an enthusiastic tone.

"Hermes" the Hispanic woman simply said.

"My name's Empolio..." The young boy said before they all looked toward the man in the white hat, giving him a nonverbal cue to introduce himself but he simply refused.

You looked down at your arm in a shy manner only to see a white tick next to the black one that represented your late boyfriend.

Someone in this prison was your soulmate.

☁️☁️☁️

It had been a couple of weeks since you had met the gang that helped you slowly integrate into prison life. Sure it wasn't fun being in prison but they at least helped make it a little more bearable.

Another thing that also made things a bit easier was your stand which you ended up naming, Love foolosophy. It seemed to be the perfect fit for it's ability, being able to slide out and emerge victorious from most conflicts by simply having your stand cause you opponent's to temporarily fall love struck with a simple blow.

You sat in the ghost room as you waited for the others to come. Most of them seemed to open up to you very well (especially Anasui) however Weather seemed to always keep his distance from you, you knew he was being cautious but you just wanted him to open up to you.

You began to hear foot steps and looked up to see Weather who just gave a scowl.

"Just you huh?"

"Yeah it's just me..." You sighed.

"If you hate me then you should just say it now..." You continued and his whole persona seemed to flip.

"Don't get me wrong, I don't hate you... I just don't trust you fully yet" he explained before sitting next to you.

"Well at least I have some of your trust" you chirped.

"Don't push your luck" he said sternly.

"Ok..." You mumbled.

An icy silence filled the room for what seemed like minutes until you piped up.

"So how did you get locked up in here?" You asked. He looked at you in the corner of his eye, contemplating if he should tell you or not.

"I don't actually know... To be honest I woke up here with no clue as to who I was or why I was here, the only thing that seemed to click in my mind was Weather Report, it's most likely not even my actual name but it at least gives me a form of identity" he explained.

"So you basically woke up with amnisia?" You asked.

"Yes" he replied.

"Well I'm sure you'll eventually get you memories back, or at least make some new ones..." You said, trying to give the man some optimism.

"Well how did you end up here?" He asked.

"My boyfriend was killed in a freak accident and it was treated as a murder..." You explained.

"And you were the prime suspect?"

"Yes"

It seemed from there the two of you opened up to one another for possibly an hour or so. You felt like you were actually finally able to start getting past the mental wall he always seemed to have until a particular pink haired male came in and tried to drag you away.

"Oh (Y/n) I found such a beautiful flower just past the fence outside the court. It reminded me of you so I wanted to show it to you" the male cooed as he grabbed onto your arm.

"Anasui, I'm kinda busy talking to Weather" you explained.

"No it's fine, it's best you go with him to see that flower" he huffed as he returned back to his original stern persona.

"Ok..." You sighed. It was probably the best for your safety, knowing his extremely obsessive behaviours.

Weather could help but grit his teeth, something about you just seemed the rile up all these emotions and hazy half formed memories.

Anger, Sorrow, bloodthirst and fear but they seemed to all be tied up and linked to another core emotion... Love. Ever since he first saw you he just had all these weird feelings and when he slept he dreamt of you, some were sweet and romantic like the one of him meeting you in a cafe or shop while delivering juice.

However one bad nightmare just kept repeating itself. His hung form forced to watch as you jumped of a cliff and take your own life. He dreaded it, he'd wake up with his heart racing and his body drenched in sweat but he just refused to believe that he was in love. The word love alone seemed to carry a tremendous amount pain with it.

☁️☁️☁️

Over time he just couldn't stop himself for feeling the way he did. When he saw your bright smile and you bright eyes that shone like jewels, he'd be worked off into a world so distant from this. It made him completely forget that he was in prison. You just gave him some form of hope in his lonely life, you filled a void in his heart.

He watched you as you looked out the small window and watched the light drizzle of rain fall from the dark clouds that hung lowly.

"You know, I've always loved rainy days..." You sighed.

"Why's that?" He asked.

"It's just so calming... The rain just seems to wash away all my worries, in the great lyrics of Jimi Hendrix 'let it drain your worries away, lay back and groove on a rainy day'" you sighed and he simply hummed in response, he didn't know who or what you had mentioned at the end but he still agreed with your statement, maybe he could make a few more days like this happen just for you. He knew it was undeniably you who the white tick represented.

It seemed like time stood still as he continued to watch you stare out the window. He just wanted this moment to last forever and in his own little world he hadn't noticed you move.

"Hey Weather?!" You called out as you waved something in front of his face to catch his attention.

"Yes" he stuttered as he finally came back to reality and saw the Toblerone chocolate bar you held in front of him.

"You want it?" You asked as you grabbed another for yourself.

"How did you get a Toblerone? I thought the prison didn't provide that fancy stuff, I've only ever seen it advertised in magazines" he asked as he look the oddly shaped chocolate from your hand.

"What can I say... My stand helps me get by" you shrugged as you opened it up and bit into the first place.

"But why give it to me?" He asked.

"I just thought you might enjoy it. Can't I do something nice? We're friends after all" you replied.

☁️☁️☁️

"Another sudden rain storm has yet again appeared over Florida today after two previous day's straight which has left scientists baffled"

"The previous weekly weather forecast predicted a week of uninterrupted summer sunshine but the days have instead delivered rain, lightning and wind blowing at a staggering 40 miles in some parts"

"Some claim this is part of the effects of global warming while other claim it is an act of God, one man mentioning he is the true Noah"

You sighed with a frown on your face as you heard the reporter on the tv say as you looked out at the dark sky through the window.

"What's wrong (Y/n)?" Weather asked as he sat beside you, it was almost the same as the time you spent three days ago.

"It's raining again..." You muttered as you flicked your hair out of your face. Totally unaware that the Weather was of his doing.

"But I thought you said you loved rainy days, just like in that Jimi Hendrix song?" He asked.

"Yeah..." You sighed.

"But have you ever heard of there being to much of a good thing?" You asked.

"How can there be to much of something good?" He asked which made you let out a sigh.

"It's like having a birthday or Christmas every single day of the year, you get presents everyday but eventually you'll wake up and look at those presents in disgust because they've lost their significance" you explained.

"Beside all this rain is gonna cause a flood or landslide" you continued before you were pulled back by a strong pair of arms and peppered in light kisses.

"Ah you're smothering me with your kisses!" You squealed as you playfully struggled in the pink haired males grasp.

"Oh (Y/n) I can't help myself" Anasui cooed. Weather pretended that Anasui's actions weren't effecting him but they were. Seeing the psychotic man that murdered his previous lover showering you in such affection made Weather sick in the stomach. It seemed like Anasui made his mind over women act like a woman buying clothes, he'd see one girl and go head over heels before doing the exact same over another but he simply let it slide as he thought you would realised it one way or another.

☁️☁️☁️

"Weather seems real off..." Anasui pointed out.

"I don't blame him... He just got his memories back" you replied.

"Who knows what's happened to him prior to his amnisia... How much trauma he could have experienced is a mystery" you continued.

"I think I'll talk it out with Weather... He might not open up about it but I can at least try" Anasui said as he stood up.

"No, I think I should... I've been making some small talk with him lately so I think he might be a bit more open if I just start off the conversation like normal and slowly build to the main question" you explained to Anasui as you lightly pushed him back down to his seat, he gave you a soft smile before standing back up and kissing your lips.

"You always know how the right words to say (Y/n)..." He sighed as he pulled away.

"I can't wait to marry you one day..." He continued, which you had to admit was a little too forward for you. You loved Anasui but you knew he wasn't the soulmate he claimed to be, you knew the red tick that appeared next to the gold one (which had formally been white) was him. Somewhere in the prison you had crossed paths with your soulmate, whether you actually interacted with them or not but until the day you met your true over half you would give him the love he so desperately desired, after all he made you feel special when you were at your worst.

"I'm going to go and see him now..." You replied to Anasui as you gave him a quick peck before you left to the place you suspected Weather report would be, The ghost room.

☁️☁️☁️

"Weather" you called out as you entered the ghost room, he sat on the sofa with his back toward you, his body language was cold and stern much like the side of him you had initially been exposed to when you had first met him.

"What?" He muttered in a cold tone.

"I just wanted to see if you were doing ok" you tenderly replied as you sat on the arm of the sofa.

"I'm fine!" He hissed as he lightly shoved you off.

"Oh come on, are we really going back to step one?!" You exclaimed but he gave you no response as he stood up.

"Weather you know I'm here for you... I don't I know what is going on inside your head now that you've gotten your memories back but I'm willing to listen to everything " you said and before you you could react him harshly pinned you to the wall, giving you a small grin as he heard you yelp in pain.

"You want to listen to me... Then I'll tell you what's on my mind" he said as he gripped your wrists even tighter then he had initially.

"For months I have been feeling so strangely around you... Your existence taunted my mind with all these powerful emotions that threatened to tear me apart... When I found out that you were dating Anasui I thought you would at some stage realise that he simply falls head over heels for the first woman is his sight" he explained in a abrasive tone.

"But you're too stubborn to even realise that... It pains me everyday to see you giving him all the attention" he continued.

"But Weather I do give you my attention... You could have told me this earlier, I'm-"

"You would have just turned me down..." He replied.

"Turned you down about what?" You asked.

"Have you not figured it out yet, I love you!" He yelled which caused you to flinch at the volume of his voice.

"Love? Oh god... I'm sorry but I've only ever seen you as a friend..." you muttered. You just wanted to melt into the wall if you could.

"The last woman I loved threw herself off of a cliff" he hissed as his eyes were almost unnaturally wide.

"God Weather I'm sorry to here that... But you can't just bottle up your anger like this... And I think that you might just be seeing me as a way to fill the void that your late lover left... I don't think it would be good for your health" you explained before he let go of you wrists, only to wrap his hands around your throat. A crazed smile danced upon his lips.

"You are not just some replacement to me... You are my soulmate, you are more then she ever could of ever been" he muttered.

You were scared for you life as you could feel your head beginning to feel light. You quickly summoned your stand to throw a swift punch to his face but it's fist only fazed through him. You tried it again and again but you got no result.

Weather eventually let go of you. You fell to your knees and held you throat as you coughed.

"Why... Why isn't Love foolosophy working?" You asked yourself before he kneeled in front of you.

"I guess Love foolosophy can't make me lovestruck for you if I already am" he replied as he ran his hand up your shoulder which made you flinch yet again.

"Please Weather... Whatever happened to you in the past wants to ruin you... Please don't let your memories destroy you... Don't let it ruin all the good you've done" you plead to the fair male.

"I'm just sick..." He muttered as he wrapped his arms around you before having you lay on top of him as he laid down. You kicked and screamed as you tried to get him to let go.

"I'm just so sick with you not being mine"

#soulmate au #spacy works

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