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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

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Inevitable (01) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)

Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, explicit sexual content in future chapters (oral, unprotected sex but be safe please!)

Chapter Word count: 6.9k

Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

A/N: Couldn’t stop thinking about how Yang Jungwon’s role model is Jungkook and they have similar features (especially as kids) and the sweetest smiles! Hence, the little angel we have here. I hope you enjoy this first chapter! Also, you can message me if you want to be part of the taglist!

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You stare at the grocery list, eyes squinting to try to read the words you’d half-mindedly written down this morning.

Your boss convinced you to take Friday off when it slipped that Jungwon has been having separation anxiety lately, as he hasn’t spent time with his mother this whole winter break.

You’d been doing overtime - on weekdays and weekends - and your boss, a mother herself, knows that overworking would take its toll on you and your son, especially as a single parent. It’s why you’re here now, grocery shopping with the little one, something he enjoys doing with you, too.

Still, it’s just one day and it’s not really enough to compensate for all the other days you work your ass off at the company, but the pay is good and the people are kind; those have been enough for you to stay the past two years.

A smile forms on your face once you decipher the crooked words on the piece of paper you’re holding up. You can make out the word ‘banana’ right before ‘milk,’ ‘choc’ somewhere near ‘ice cream,’ and ‘bron’ just next to ‘cereal.’ Brown cereal? Did he mean cocoa pops?

Jungwon has improved his writing and vocabulary and you pat yourself on the back for the times you’d forced yourself awake during your Sunday rest time just so you could guide him on his workbook. You congratulate yourself for thinking of showing him flash cards while he scrubs himself in the makeshift tub during bath time. And you thank the heavens for your best friend Taehyung’s bright idea of setting up a blackboard on the wall on Jungwon’s side of the bed so he can doodle until he falls asleep.

“Am I not the best uncle, muffin?” Taehyung had asked the little one then, who always knew what to answer.

“You and uncle Joonie are the best,” Jungwon had said.

Your kid is a ball of fluff, you’d almost think it’s genetic because you definitely are not one, but the other half of him is.

You brush away that thought before your chest begins to tighten. You choose to think that Tae and your older brother Namjoon, whom Jungwon spends the most time with apart from you, are true softies and he’d definitely gotten it from them.

You’re still smiling, insides warming enough to brave through the January cold until you realize that you’re no longer hearing your son’s buzzing sound that he does when he plays with his airplane. For all his softness, he does give you a heart attack every once in a while because of his tendency to scurry somewhere that piques his interest. It was probably the aisle that had those chocolates he wanted so you pick up your basket and rush to the one right next to where you are.

Your heart drops to the floor at the sight of your son standing in front of a man who’s crouching down, tinkering with the toy. It probably disassembled again and this does not earn you a pat on the back this time for forgetting to buy Jungwon a new one that’s more age-appropriate, and for not paying enough attention.

You’re partly shocked and partly curious - he’s a shy kid, tends to run back to you at the sight of an unfamiliar person, wide eyes usually on full display when someone tries to get his attention.

But not right now. He’s still wide-eyed but he’s sporting a shy smile, one he tries to suppress by biting his lower lip. Wonder where he got that from. Such mannerisms aren’t genetic too, right?

The mystery man hands him the toy airplane, which Jungown clutches to his chest. He bows at the man and whispers a ‘thank you.’ If that man wanted to do something bad, he would’ve taken Jungwon already but he hasn’t. You’re glad that at least a kind man has found your son.

“Jungwon, sweetie. Come here, please,” you call out, moving a bit to try to get the man’s attention to express your thanks but he’s sporting a hoodie that’s engulfing his face. Maybe you should’ve been more scared.

The stranger shakily stands up and turns as Jungown runs to you with his eyes not leaving his little toy.

Your eyes, on the other hand, can’t leave the figure standing just a few feet away from you, like a bad dream but that isn’t exactly a nightmare.

He’s here. He’s home. And he looks just as gorgeous as you remember - expressive onyx eyes, pretty thin lips, defined jawline, muscular build...

His own eyes move from you to the kid next to you, trying to come up with explanations, mind reeling at what this could mean. You sounded so tender, so loving, so… motherly.

“Jung—”

“Your—”

You both say at the same time. His eyes are fixated on Jungwon, probably trying to figure out who the child is to you.

“I’m babysitting,” you panic.

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow and just as he’s about to open his mouth to say something, Jungwon decides to not be shy in front of a supposed stranger.

“Mama, that man fixed my plane!” He excitedly says, and you hate to crush his little moment of joy.

Jungkook’s eyes are now saucer-like, not at all minding that you were caught in a lie but that you, the woman who’d broken his heart all those years ago, have a child. A child whose eyes uncannily and painfully resemble his.

You and Jungkook both seem to be in a daze, your own thoughts swirling in your heads at the situation that neither expected would happen.

You stopped watching his baseball games about two years ago and had avoided whatever news about him would come up. Except recently when you’d heard about him possibly signing with a South Korean baseball team. Looks like did because he’s here, and he hasn’t been in years.

You’d heard from your brother that Jungkook had been doing well with the LA Dodgers and you hadn’t expected that he’d up and leave what had been his home the past four or so years to, well, come home. You’re glad he is but you also aren’t prepared for this.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had tried his best to forget about you soon after you walked out on him that December evening, almost succeeding multiple times until he gave up altogether. He came home last week, earlier than what he’d told the media, since he knew they’d be hampering him about his homecoming, given his recent signing with the Doosan Bears, one of Seoul’s professional baseball teams.

He’d spent the past few days in Busan to visit his mother and arrived from his 4-hour drive just an hour ago. He’d hoped to reach out or run into you but didn’t expect it to actually happen today. He definitely didn’t expect you’d have a son, too.

“Mama, did you get my banana milk?” Jungwon asks, breaking the bubble of confusion and shock between you and Jungkook, both unbelieving at the reality of you finally being in the same space, breathing the same air after so long.

“Yeah, I—” you start, placing the basket down and picking up your son, suddenly feeling nauseous.

Your mind is a puddle of thoughts and you just know that incoherent words will escape your mouth if you don’t leave right now so you make a run for it, or at least try. You walk briskly, clutching Jungwon tightly with his arms wrapped around your neck, so you don’t see him smiling at the man following both of you.

Jungkook calls out your name, prompting Jungwon to state that the man who’d fixed his plane knows his mother.

There are more people with their pushcarts near the exit, making it hard for your quick escape. Jungkook is catching up and upon realizing you won’t turn back to acknowledge him, he talks to Jungwon instead.

“How old are you, buddy?” Jungkook asks, legs clearly made for this. He’s panting though, you can hear it in his voice.

You can’t make a scene so you just try to walk faster.

You feel Jungwon release an arm and you know he’s putting out the ‘four’ sign, something he likes to do.

“When is your birthday?” Jungkook asks shortly after.

Oh god, you think. Jungwon loves this question. “July 6!” He exclaims.

The footsteps become faint and you’re brave enough to turn back as you near the exit doors. Jungkook stands there, dots connecting, mouth agape at what this means.

You leave the supermarket and run to your car, hurriedly placing Jungwon on the car seat and driving away, willing the tears not to fall.

“Who was that, Mama?” He innocently asks.

You admit that you’d thought about the day you’d see Jungkook and let him know about the little one too many times, but this isn’t how you planned it to happen - in public, when you’re incredibly tired, and when you haven’t thought about what you’d say.

This isn’t how you planned on telling Jungwon, too, so you tell a half-truth, like what you’d done a few times before.

“He’s a friend, sweetcheeks. He’s just a friend.”

The tears eventually fall about 5 hours later.

You got home from the grocery - without your groceries, watched cartoons with Jungwon, had food delivered, then prepared him for bed.

You’re now sat on your couch, wine glass in hand, as you try to make sense of the overwhelming emotions of seeing the man that was once your world. Technically, Jungkook still is, considering that your son is half of him.

But it’s different now. Too much has changed since you broke up with him, since he left 5 years ago to chase his dreams of playing for the Major League Baseball in the US, the dream he’d shared with his father, the dream he’d spent his whole life chasing.

Baseball had always been Jungkook’s world; a given, you always thought, since his own father was a baseball star himself, whose dream of playing for the MLB materialized during a trip to Boston as a teenager, the blinding lights and massiveness of Fenway Park and the roars of the crowd cheering for the Red Sox so alluring that he’d made it a point to watch a live game at least once a year.

His own career as a professional player for the South Korean league had been commendable, leading his teams to championships and even playing for the 1996 Olympics. That had been the second best experience of his life, the first being Jungkook’s birth two years prior. Marrying his wife was a close third, and it was something the pair always laughed about. You know this because Jungkook raved about his parents a lot, used to talk about them like he just lived next door to his mother - whom he called everyday, like his father was still alive.

His father didn’t have the luxury of getting scouted by American teams because baseball wasn’t as big then, but his dream of playing for the MLB never faded. Just like what his own father had done, he’d taken Jungkook to a live game every year since Jungkook was six, and tried to watch in every baseball park of every major league team.

They’d only make it to seven though. By that time, the cancer had been debilitating and he had to give up that annual date with his only child. Watching the Lotte Giants in their hometown of Busan had been enough for 13-year old Jungkook, who’d likewise been fascinated by the game, so was waking up in the wee hours of the morning to still catch MLB games on TV.

Jungkook was 14 when his old man passed.

He rarely talked about his father’s death. He also rarely talked about his father outside of baseball. He was a father-coach, Jungkook used to say, not the scary, stage father type who pressured him but the incredibly supportive, only slightly critical one. He’d made Jungkook fall in love with baseball, made him have a reason to wake up everyday, made him have something work hard for, fight for.

After he passed, baseball became something Jungkook hung onto, something he used to remind him of the man that made him who he is today. It became the most sacred part of himself, not for the popularity it gained him nor the praises he received, but because it showed the best parts of him, which were also the best parts of his father - his self-confidence, his tenacity, his grit, and his resolve, his passion for his craft.

Baseball taught Jungkook the value of hard work, of commitment, of focus, while at the same time reminding him of his physical capabilities and limitations.

It’s why he took his Sports Science course seriously, knowing that until his last breath, he would live for the sport. He’d play until he’s physically able, and do everything else when he can’t.

Jungkook had always been a good leader - another trait he got from his father, served as the pillar of strength of every team he’d been a part of because of his vulnerability that allowed others to trust him, to believe him.

His self-confidence may border on arrogance, his forcefulness and intensity may be perceived as aggression, but behind his intimidating aura on the field - partly personality, partly physical prowess - is a tender human being who gets excited over sweets, gushes over Ironman merchandise, likes making blanket forts, squeals over baby animals, enjoys bear hugs, and who just loves to love.

Those were what made you fall for him in the first place. They were what made your naturally cold exterior dissolve until your heart had become bare for him, until your insecurities had become insignificant, until you’d exuded almost the same joy that he had.

Seeing him today just brought the memories back, as if nothing has changed with what you felt for him, as if the pain you felt when you told him it was over, when you walked out and he let you, was just a breath away.

You didn’t realize just how much you missed him until you saw him again, until his proximity reminded you how his laugh used to sound, how his wide eyes and sweet smile looked like, how his sensual touches used to feel.

The tears fall again. That pain, that love - it’s like they never went away.

“Uncle Tete!” Jungwon squeals as your best friend picks up your son from the floor, swinging him around in a circle, soft laughter reverberating through the walls of your cozy apartment. It only takes a few rounds before Taehyung puts him down and complains that his arms already hurt.

“What happened to working on arm exercises?” You chuckle.

“Don’t remind me, you know I hate lifting weights. Plus, like that would make much of a difference,” he exclaims, slim arms out, being swallowed by his sweater. “I’m not an athlete, you know?”

You flinch at the comment and so does he.

“Sorry, too soon?”

“Yes,” you say, rolling your eyes and settling in the kitchen, a bit farther away from Jungwon, whose eyes are now fixated on the TV.

“Hey, I wouldn’t have known Jungkook was back if he hadn’t decided to revive our group chat yesterday after 2 years to ask everyone if they’ve seen you recently because you apparently have a kid and he believes he’s the father.”

“Pretty straightforward, huh?”

“He didn’t wanna waste time. Didn’t even care that your brother is in the same group,” Taehyung shrugs.

“Probably knows Namjoon won’t check.”

“True. But still, how bold of your ex.”

“What did the guys say?” You ask, curious if they ever caught on. Your twice a year appearance since college graduation seemed to be enough for them.

“Yoongi cursed. Jin spammed with theories because he’s convinced you haven’t had a boyfriend in years. Hoseok sent a video message of his reaction, which was really just him freaking out. Jimin acted surprised.”

“And you?”

“I left the group chat.”

You smack his arm, earning you a scowl. “Real smooth, Kim Taehyung.”

“Well, what was I gonna say? ‘Yeah, Jungkook. Your ex-girlfriend was actually pregnant when she broke up with you and you’re totally the father?’”

“You could’ve feigned ignorance, you know, or like denied it until I figured out what to say.”

“___,” he deadpans. “One look at Jungwon and it screams Jungkook. His name isn’t actually subtle, okay? Look at your kid, he even dresses up and eats like the father he’s never met!”

You motion for him to tone it down but Jungwon is busy watching the Avengers cartoons in his Ironman pajamas while sipping his banana milk.

“I’m not projecting!” You say, defending yourself because you know that’s what Taehyung is gonna say.

“It’s not my fault that my kid chose Ironman as his favorite Avenger no matter how many times I pushed Captain America to his face, okay? He didn’t even mind the shield I bought,” you pout.

“And he won’t drink plain milk. If it’s not banana, it’s chocolate. And he loves sweets, loves to hug people, has the cutest laugh…” You sigh, still racking your brain on what parts of your son he got from you.

“Maybe the universe is the one projecting, you know? Like it just had to find a way for Jungwon to be connected to Jungkook, if not physically then by other ways.”

“Your theory is sweet but I doubt it, Tae.”

“My theory is backed by evidence. And a father’s instinct because that shit’s real. Jungkook was still around during those first two months, the bond probably developed then.”

“Jungwon was the size of a raspberry. It’s highly unlikely.”

“Can you just stop deflecting? The father of your son is here. What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know! Get my shit together and figure out what to say? You know I’m not ready for this,” you exclaim.

“Funny that you knew exactly what to say when you broke up with him but now you don’t,” Taehyung cocks an eyebrow.

“Are you my best friend or are you out to get me?”

“I’m just saying. You made that decision all on your own. Didn’t even confide in me,” he pouts. “I could’ve thrown some other options that didn’t require you breaking his heart and yours too, and going through all this by yourself.”

“Except I didn’t go through all this by myself,” you pat his head. “I had you and Namjoon. You were all I needed. Still do.”

“We can never take the place of Jungwon’s father, you know that right?”

“I know, I just… He’s not just my kid’s father, Tae. He’s my ex-boyfriend too. The man I loved.”

“You mean love. The man you still think about, and miss terribly.”

You squint at him as if in question. It’s been years since you and Taehyung had shared an apartment where he’d seen you cry almost everyday. It was something he wasn’t used to because you don’t cry, especially in front of others, not when you found out you were pregnant, not when you walked into Jungkook’s apartment only to walk out of his life. Not when Jungkook skipped graduation and left early for the US.

Everything changed after Jungwon’s birth. It’s like all the tears you never cried decided it was time. And you had years’ worth of it.

“Your kid’s a lot more perceptive than you think. He tells me sometimes that he sees you cry when you’re in bed or when you’re watching TV with him, and why else would you be crying if it wasn’t for that man?”

Of course he does. Jungwon, again just like his father, is thoughtful and pays you a lot of attention. Seriously, what about you did this kid inherit?

“The dam breaks every once in a while, I can’t help it.”

“Now you can,” Taehyung says as he gives you a hug. “You should talk to him. And soon. You know he deserves it.”

Jungkook stares at the ceiling, unwilling to move from the comforts of his bed. Head throbbing from the bottles of SoJu he downed with his older cousin, Jin, last night, the events of the day before are mighty clear in his mind.

He’d really seen you, the woman who once laid residence in his mind and his heart that he could not get rid of no matter how hard he tried, because you’d broken every possible thing you could when you decided to break up all those years ago.

He remembers that night so clearly, how he’d been excited to finally spend time with you so he could ask you to go with him to the US. You chose to break his heart instead, deciding by yourself that it wouldn’t work out. The only reason he agreed was because he’d been too hurt to even think of another way, but whether he agreed or not, he knew you would’ve walked out of his life regardless.

But there you were yesterday, dressed in your favorite-colored down jacket, hair longer than he remembers, little kid in tow calling you Mama.

Mama.

He’d just gotten back in Seoul after a visit to his mother. He’d made sure to be sneaky, as he wanted some peace and quiet before all the interviews and events he’ll need to attend because of this “homecoming” that everybody seemed to be making a big deal out of.

He was doing well with the LA Dodgers, even had meetings and possible offers with the Boston Red Sox, the team his father obsessed over. Jungkook was well on his way for bigger things in the largest baseball league in the world.

He decided to sign with the Doosan Bears instead, not even his hometown baseball team. He’ll chalk it up to missing home, maybe breaking ground so he can play in the Olympics, too, just like his father.

He was gonna seek you out, that was definitely part of the plan. He still considers the breakup as partly one-sided and he wanted to know how you were doing. He also knew he was bound to run into you because there was no escaping your circle of friends, who apparently seemed clueless as well.

Except for Taehyung, obviously, because he’s your best friend and he definitely would’ve known. But you’re here in Seoul, how did you dodge the rest of them? And Namjoon had really been able to keep everything a secret?

There were so many questions. Jin took it upon himself to be his confidante last night because surprisingly, Jimin, his best friend, had been mum about it. Jungkook and Jin spent the rest of last night scouring through social media for any trace of you and that kid but there had been none.

Jungkook is desperate, not just because he wants to see you but the child… looked like him.

The grocery was a few neighborhoods away from his, but it was next to the bank he was in so he decided to just do his shopping then. He’d been going through the sweets aisle, ready to fill the pantry of his new apartment with his favorite snacks, then he heard a thump and a soft quivering voice.

He turned to see a little boy looking sad over his toy airplane whose one wing had been clipped off. An adult didn’t seem to be around and he definitely trusts himself more than any other stranger so he’d approached the kid and asked if he needed help.

Curious doe-eyes met his questioning gaze, until the little kid took the airplane and its broken wing in his arms and cradled them.

“It’s hurt,” the kid had said, and he felt his heart burst at the cuteness and softness of this child. Jungkook took the toy and easily fixed it, the sliding slot probably too hard for his little hands to maneuver. He was about to ask for the kid’s name when he heard a familiar voice call out, the kid looking up and scurrying away from him.

And then there was you.

Everything felt hazy until the kid called you his Mama. You’d picked him up and started walking away before Jungkook could even greet you. He’d seen your abandoned grocery basket, which he could easily pass up as his own because of the same things he’d buy for himself.

The wheels were turning in his head and it wasn’t until the kid, apparently named Jungwon, stated his age that Jungkook pieced everything together. Or at least the possibility.

Could Jungwon be his child?

At the thought of this, Jungkook froze, watched your figure disappear from his sight, the eyes of the child boring into him as you walked away again. The kid let out a small smile and Jungkook had seen enough pictures of himself as a little kid in the news the past few weeks to be reminded of how he looked like, and he looked like that. It was unmistakable.

The scene plays in his head again and Jungkook feels the throbbing of his chest match the throbbing of his head, the need to confirm his suspicions and know the whole truth seeping through his veins. He tries to calm himself down, which is difficult, but he knows he needs a level-head if the truth is what he wants from you.

It’s just past lunchtime and he calls Jimin for help. As he enters the passenger seat, Jimin asks his friend for the destination.

“Take me to Taehyung’s place.”

Jungkook is running on adrenaline. With a sober mind now and a still-aching chest, he’s willing his body to relax but he’s unable, focused only on finding the truth.

There’s concern and an air of acceptance in Taehyung’s face when he opens the door to Jungkook, the idea of him showing up here having something that Taehyung has considered. Jungkook has at least half a mind to reach out to someone else before going to you.

Taehyung welcomes him in, knowing better not to argue or match the other man’s emotions. Jungkook doesn’t ask questions though and instead heads for the refrigerator, bites his lips at the sight of the same brand of banana milk he’d seen in your grocery basket.

He walks around the apartment, not missing the small basket of toys by the window. He opens a room that’s actually Taehyung’s art room and sees a paint set for kids, a framed photo of him with Jungwon placed on a shelf and next to it is a painting, the words “Jeon Jungwon” written at the bottom. It’s all the confirmation that he needs.

“Find what you’re looking for?” Taehyung asks, arms on his waist now, a bit of annoyance seeping through at the disrespect being shown to him. He gets that Jungkook is upset, but Taehyung knows him, knows he’s probably coming up with his own conclusions in his mind.

Before Jungkook could say anything, they hear the front door open, Namjoon’s deep voice calling out.

“Tae, did you get to drop off the groceries at ___’s? Jungwon’s been asking for his milk since yesterday and—” Namjoon stops as he stands by the door, eyes wide at Jungkook standing there, no doubt trying to keep himself together.

“Are you Jungwon’s father now?” He directs the question to Taehyung, the bitterness in Jungkook’s voice not lost on all the men present, including Jimin who’d been having his own battle in his mind because pretty soon, the anger will be directed at him, too.

Jungkook is the kid’s father, he’s sure of it now, yet the thought of another man taking that role causes an ache in his chest.

“Jungwon sleeps here? Does art with you? Does he call you—”

“He calls Tae ‘uncle,’ Jungkook. The same thing he calls me,” Jimin says, essentially coming out.

“You knew? This whole time?” Jungkook yells, fists clenched as the anger builds.

“Just a few years ago but—”

“And you said nothing to me?”

“It was just 2 years ago.”

“And you’ve visited me twice a year since then and you never thought to tell me that I have a son…” Jungkook flinches at the word, unbelieving that it’s something he’d even say.

“Look, just calm down, okay?” Jimin tries, but he knows it won’t do much.

“Calm down? I’m fucking livid. I have a…” Jungkook stops himself, willing the tears not to fall. All this time, you had a child that you’d kept from him, without a care of how he would feel.

“Jungkook, just take a breath, yeah?” Namjoon says this time, walking towards the younger man and pulls him in for a hug. “It’s a lot, I know. But just breathe for a bit.”

Jungkook pulls away, a mix of anger and sadness in his eyes. “How could she keep this from me?”

“Only she can answer that,” Namjoon sighs.

“I need to see her,” Jungkook states after a long pause.

“I can ask when she’s free—” Taehyung offers, ready to get his phone.

“I need to see her now.”

Jungkook finds himself in Jimin’s car, with Taehyung in the backseat talking to you over the phone, saying that he’ll take Jungwon for the rest of the afternoon and that they’re on their way.

Jungkook listens to Taehyung talk to you with so much care, the way he always had all those years ago. Nothing has changed, really.

Back in college, people tried to keep their distance from you, afraid of your resting bitch face and usually cold demeanor. Jungkook had heard about you from Jin, a good friend of your brother’s, and couldn’t quite reconcile the incredibly friendly and gentle Taehyung as your best friend.

It was one of the things that intrigued Jungkook, and he’d find out later on, after pulling all the stops with his flirting and finally getting you to agree on a coffee date, that you really did have a bitch face and you were cold if you wanted to be.

But you were so unapologetically you that it was refreshing. It wasn’t a defense mechanism or anything, it was just really who you were, but that wasn’t everything about you - you were also caring, protective, generous, extremely hardworking, and very confident.

Jungkook had fallen in love faster than he could throw a baseball, and he knows he can throw past 90/mph.

You complemented each other so beautifully that fights were easily resolved, if any, dates were always exciting, and moments together were never boring, even if it was just you quietly working on a paper and him noisily studying his games.

Taehyung was relentless in befriending you and you caved in pretty easily. “Look at the smile,” you’d said once. “Who can resist that?” You always had a soft spot for your best friend and Jungkook never minded; he’d trusted your relationship and you when you said that he never had to worry about Taehyung.

Except now. Because Taehyung seems to be a father figure to his son, being what Jungwon had needed all these years, while Jungkook had been clueless about it.

The night you broke up with him, you left him a weeping mess and begging behind closed doors to please don’t go. He felt he’d lost a big part of him, felt the soul-crushing feeling of losing someone again.

The loss of you was something he couldn’t prepare for and he’d spent years trying to put the pieces again, all on his own, in a foreign country, while chasing his dream. It had been hard but after some time, he rationalized in his mind that maybe you were right, maybe it would’ve been very hard for the both of you given the distance, the time difference, the busy schedules. It wouldn’t have been fair; he’d accepted that.

But keeping his child from him like this? This is too much. This is ruthless. You made a decision again. All by yourself. And he’s angry.

Everyone is thankful that Jungwon is asleep, although it’s a chance for Jungkook to see the little one in slumber, looking like the most adorable boy in the world.

Jimin and Taehyung agree to leave first, Jungkook not wanting them to wait, although he’s unsure how long this conversation with you is going to last.

You’ve been pacing back and forth since Taehyung called, informing you of the impromptu visit and Jungkook being unrelenting in his decision to speak with you today. You would’ve wanted to wait, although you know that Tae is right - Jungkook needs to know as soon as possible; he deserves that much.

In your more than 2 years together, you barely saw Jungkook angry - that was more of your thing because he enjoyed annoying the hell out of you every time and you always gave him shit for it.

But you two barely fought - you understood his busy schedule and were never really the jealous type, despite the presence of his “fans” (except maybe around Sora who’d named herself as the president of Jungkook’s fan club like that shit still flies), while Jungkook always knew how to make it up to you. He rarely complained, too if you ditched him to work on your projects.

But this Jungkook is different - his nostrils are flaring, brows are furrowed, jaws are clenched you’re afraid he’d break his teeth.

You’re different, too. You’re nervous, more reserved, not with your usual crossed arms but with fingers fidgeting at the loss of control.

You lead him in the living room and motion for him to sit down but he dismisses you.

“Hi, Jung—”

“I need to hear it from you,” he breathes out. “I know, god, I fucking know but I need to hear it from you.”

You take a deep breath and you say the words you’ve practiced in your head. “Jungwon is our son.”

You see him close his eyes, bite his lips, and tilt his head. It’s how you know he’s trying to control his emotions.

The silence is deafening but you give him time to process.

“How? I mean, you were on birth control and you said you never missed…” He stammers.

“Pills are not 100%, Jungkook. It just happened,” you explain, racking your brain for days right after you took the test over how it might’ve happened. At one point you stopped; it was no use.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

It’s the big question, the one he’s been losing his mind over. It doesn’t matter that it happened; he just doesn’t know how you could make that big of a decision all on your own when it concerned him, the other half of the child.

“You were on your way to the big leagues. I couldn’t take that away from you.”

“But you thought it was alright to take away years with my son?” He seethes. “Fuck, ___. That wasn’t your decision to make.”

It wasn’t, not fully at least, you knew it. But he wouldn’t make that decision, so you had to.

“I made it anyway,” you respond, tone more stern now.

With all the pain and struggles it brought, it’s the one thing you stand by; it’s a decision you never regretted. Watching Jungkook play in the ballparks his dad never got to take him to, seeing him blow a kiss to the sky before and after every game, and catching him mouth the words ‘I love you, dad’ after his interviews have always been enough to trump everything else.

Jungkook had been living his and his father’s dream. It had always felt worth it.

“Why? I would’ve stayed,” Jungkook yells.

“Exactly. You would’ve,” you yell back. “I was sure that the moment you knew, you would’ve passed up a dream you worked your whole life for. I couldn’t let you do that. I couldn’t let you make that decision.”

“So you made it for me, by giving me none at all?” He scoffs. “Real brave, ___. And real fucked up, too.”

“It was the only way for you to go!” You exclaim. “If you had known, you wouldn’t have left, you would’ve settled, stayed behind… You would’ve given everything up.”

“Because that’s our child, ___!”

“And we didn’t plan on having him!” You shout, tears prickling on the corners of your eyes now.

“You’ve known baseball your whole life, Jungkook. Everything you’ve ever done was so you could play in the MLB and you did. You made it happen because you had the best opportunity and you took it, worked hard, got to where you wanted to be,” you rationalize.

He’s panting as he processes your words, mind going again to that night when you walked out on him, making sense of the reasons why, those you verbalized and those you didn’t.

“I know you, Jungkook,” you sigh, your voice taking him back to the present. “You’d take responsibility because that’s the kind of man you are. You would’ve insisted on taking care of us, on letting go of everything else for us, for your son. And I couldn’t let you give up on your dream, the one thing left of your father…”

“Don’t you fucking dare bring up my father,” he snaps at you, eyes so cold and you feel so small.

“You wouldn’t have forgiven yourself if you let that dream go for us.”

“Then you don’t really know me, ___. Because the hell would I give us up just like that. The hell would I give up time away from my son.”

He pulls his hair out of frustration, then lets go, tears now streaming down his face.

“I was 14 when I lost my dad, ___.”

“I know, and I’m sorry—”

“No, you don’t know. And you aren’t sorry,” he retorts, his back facing you as he tries to get himself together. “I had to watch him wither away, had to stay by his bedside and watch him take his final breath because my mother couldn’t. I was 14 and I had to be strong for my parents. And I cried, every single night, for months,” he heaves.

He turns to face you, wants you to know how much you’ve hurt him.

“I almost quit school because I wouldn’t get out of my bed, wouldn’t talk to anyone. I told you I suffered, that I lost my way,” he continues, weeping.

But you didn’t know this, didn’t know he suffered like this, that he lost his way like this.

“But the dream kept you going, didn’t it?” You try. “It gave you purpose; you had something to live for, Jungkook,” you continue, reminding him of what the dream meant to him.

He’d been young but he had so many memories with his father about baseball; it had been the core of their relationship, the thread that kept them connected years after his death.

“In return for what?” He barks. “Fuck, I would’ve given anything to have my father again. And that includes that dream, ___.”

You stare at him, his body now crouching down on the couch, unable to fully lift himself up. You’d never seen him like this. He was never afraid to cry but this is different.

Your own tears are relentless, as if telling you that this is all because of you and you deserve this pain. You had broken this man, and you’d done so without regret.

He looks up at you, wipes his tear-drenched face, illuminating the pain, the longing, the anger.

“You took four years of my life away from my son. You robbed me of that chance. You didn’t even give me a choice. How fucking selfish are you? You had no right, ___,” he huffs.

“I just… I know you, Jungkook. You would’ve stayed and then what?” You say, trying to stand your ground, but even you don’t believe your words, at least not anymore.

“You’ll regret it down the road? Resent us because you had to stay? How would we feel? How would Jungwon feel, knowing that his father gave up his dream for him?”

“Really? You’re absolutely sure that’s what would happen? As if I’m not resenting you now?” Jungkook scoffs.

“You don’t know what it’s like to have someone be taken from you, to not have enough time with them. But yeah, you need to have the last say always, right?” He says coldly, allowing the silence to let you take in his bitter words.

“You can’t ever feel like you don’t have control so you make all the decisions by yourself. Hurting those in your wake before they hurt you. But it’s all good right because you stand by it? As long as it’s enough to rid you of the guilt even if it hurts everyone else?”

This is how he hurts you - peeling away your layers and throwing them back at you, until there’s nothing left but all the parts you didn’t want anyone to see. But Jungkook had seen them, accepted them, loved you despite them.

But he’s standing in front of you. And there’s no love in his eyes. You don’t think you deserve it anymore.

You give him this, the last say. And he takes it. And he leaves.

Like countless times before, you fall to the floor and cry. You cry until your sounds are loud enough, until you can no longer hear your own heart breaking.

Taglist: @fluffyjoons @jwlmnbt @koremis @mrcleanheichou @kooafraid @purplepommy @btstannies @jeonwiixard @songshin @joondala @hobiade @di0rgguk @fan-ati--c @yn-the-reader @spicybangtanwings @njkbangtan @jeoncookie-bts @miniaturecloud @revehosh @preciouschimine @sherlynxx @dimreads

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #parents au #exes au #baseball player jk #inevitable #series

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 6

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence, and a line that hints at past physical abuse (depending on how you choose to interpret it) Warnings: Mild TW for implied/referenced abuse Notes: Okay so this was supposed to be somewhat therapeutic? But it ended up taking longer to get to that part than I intended, so... Don't worry though, next chapter will be fluffy and also involve more, like, actual Daniela scenes. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2 Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco

Chapter 6: Elegy

(Elegy: A piece of music in the form of a lament)

When you dream, you do not dream of being locked in a tower, awaiting a kindly knight to come save you. When you dream… you dream of your old home, infested with monsters, nearly unrecognizable. Of being forced to flee, leaving everything you loved behind. Of escaping to a remote, quaint little village, only to end up trapped once again, as friendly faces morph into gaping maws and fangs dripping red. When you dream, it is less a nightmare, more memories retouched, covered in a fresh coat of paint.

Waking up is but a brief source of comfort. One hand goes to your head, rubbing gently, as if you could wipe away all traces of your past. A quick glance around your shared room leaves you confused, but serves as a welcome distraction. Though there are six beds in the room, yours is the only occupied one, the others having all been vacated and made presentable. The only explanation that fit with what you knew was that everyone had gotten up, and gotten to work, without waking you. Panic filled you as you connected the dots, knowing that missing work was a death sentence.

Rushing, you rise to your feet, throwing your dresser open to search for fresh clothes. While the castle’s staff was almost entirely female, the Dimitrescu family didn’t enforce traditional gender presentation, allowing maidens to choose whether to wear a dress or a button-up and trousers. Remembering the wound on your neck, you pause, glancing in the dorm’s singular mirror to inspect your injury. Most of the blood had rubbed off in your sleep (and would likely be a nightmare to clean from the sheets). There were, however, a few spots where dried blood mingled with the protective scab. Considering how late you already were, you didn’t believe you would have time to clean up.

As much as you hated the thought, the best you could do was go for a button-up, hoping the collar would hide the worst of your disastrous appearance. Your hair was another matter entirely, far messier than it normally was, and you struggled to brush/comb it enough to be mildly presentable. Good thing Daniela won’t see me today, you think, remembering her insistence on skipping today’s lesson.

Then you remember the rest of your conversation with her; the yelling, being dragged to your feet, and the pain in her eyes. For a moment you feel woozy, pausing in the middle of buttoning your shirt. Your eyes focus on a spot on the now-closed dresser… and suddenly you wish you had paid more attention when you first woke up. There’s a note stuck to the furniture, clearly addressed to you.

Heard you had some trouble yesterday. We’re just glad you’re alive! A certain someone has been a lot nicer since you started playing the piano, and we’re grateful. To show that, we decided to split your morning duties among ourselves, so you can sleep in. If you’re reading this, then it’s still before 4 AM. Feel free to just relax for a while, or even get some more sleep! We’ll be by to make sure you’re up eventually.

Sincerely,

Daphne, Rosalia, Ygritte, Alexandra, Juniper, and Riley

“I… have… freetime?” You mumbled, still a little drowsy, but now also shocked. This was a complete first for you. Maybe even a first among the servants! Sure, you had been given breaks before, but having a couple hours to do whatever you wanted? No one had ever pulled strings like this for you before. It made your chest feel warm, and you just about forgot the whole mess with Daniela. “I’ll have to find a way to pay them back, even if they think they’re paying me back.” With that said you relaxed a little, no longer rushing getting dressed, though still leaving your neck the way it was. You figured you’d stop by one of the maidens’ restrooms before you officially started your shift.

In the meantime, you knew exactly what you’d be using this time for: finding those damn piano books you had been promised!

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

“Let’s see… dust, more dust, a dead spider, even more dust, and- oh shit, the spider is not dead,” you said, barely holding in a yelp as the arachnid scurries away from you. If you had known the attic would be so unclean, you might not have bothered to come up here. So far your targets had alluded you without giving so much as a hint towards their location. The library had seemed a likely location, but you had heard Daniela’s voice within, and anxiety had sent you dashing away. Up here, in an area clearly used for storage above all else, was the next best guess, as far as you were concerned. Still, you hadn’t seen anything worth your time yet.

Just insects, really. Not even terribly interesting ones. Well, there had been a shiny beetle of some sort, but it had crawled into a crack in the wall mere seconds after you saw it. Other than that, though, nothing but creepy crawlies. Creepy flyers?... Both, for sure. One fly in particular kept buzzing around you, weirdly interested in what you were doing.

Somehow you didn’t understand what that meant until a firm hand had wrapped itself around your neck. The grip was tight, putting more than enough pressure to make your vision blur. Thankfully, or perhaps unfortunately, the culprit didn’t intend to just choke you out. Instead they lift you and toss you aside- casually, at that. You hit the wall with a terrible crashing sound, certain to leave bruises, and narrowly avoid toppling into a stack of heavy crates. So much for enjoying some free time, you think. Stunned for several seconds, you find yourself left helpless as your attacker approaches.

“You’re not allowed to be up here,” a voice snarled, familiar enough to leave you terrified. Of course you had to run into the most violent of the Dimitrescu sisters. “Looking for a way out, hmm? Or are you stupid enough to think we’d leave a weapon where a wretched thing like you could find it?” Cassandra asked, pausing only to send a swift kick your way. A grunt escapes you, leaves you coughing, but it doesn’t hurt as bad as hitting the wall. Despite wanting to curl up and give in, you tried to drag yourself to your feet. Surprisingly, Cassandra makes no move to stop you, perhaps enjoying the sight of you struggling.

“Lady… Daniela… gave me permission,” you said between painful breaths. By the time you’re back on your feet, the vampire before you is watching you with narrowed, albeit curious, eyes. Normally it would take a lot of courage to face her. But you’re exhausted, in pain, and you’ve taken nearly as much hurt from someone who called themselves your lover. It’s not brave to stare down Cassandra, it’s foolhardy. It’s idiotic, really, and yet you find yourself unable to care. “I’m just looking for a couple piano books I’ve been told about, so I can use them to help teach Lady Daniela.”

“Oh? You’re her instructor?” Cassandra asked, a strange smile overtaking her expression. Something in the atmosphere has shifted, dangerously, but you can’t figure out why. Clueless to your self-betrayal, you nod in response. Instantly Cassandra’s smile turns into an open-lipped snarl, and she reaches out to grab you by the shirt, this time slamming you into the wall with her own hands. “Then you’re the reason she kept me up yesterday, crying non stop! I’m going to rip you apart, you vermin.”

The look in her eyes is, most definitely, the scariest thing you had ever seen. It’s feral, inhuman, and unstoppably determined. But when tears fall from your eyes, it’s not because you know you’re about to die. No, it’s because the last thing you think you’ll ever hear is the news that your partner had been sobbing for hours… and that you were the reason why. Your heart aches, both physically and emotionally, as you brace yourself for the bloody end.

Instead, the grip on your clothes loosens. You don’t dare open your eyes to see why.

“What the fuck do you want, sis?” Cassandra asked, sounding like she had turned her head away from you. Before you know it you’ve been let go, and you slide to the ground, too surprised to hold yourself steady. When you look up, you see an irritated Bela pulling Cassandra away from you, whispering something you can’t quite hear. They argue for a minute, under their breath, keen on keeping you out of the loop. Eventually the younger of the two storms away, but not before making a dent in the wall with her fist.

“What a child,” Bela said, rolling her eyes at the display. Then she’s walking back towards you, extending a hand in an offer of assistance (one you gladly accept). “That girl has the foresight of a magic eight ball, I swear. If she had actually killed you… ugh, I can hardly stand to imagine how inconsolable Daniela would become. Then I’d have two insufferable sisters. Regardless, do tell me why you thought it would be a good idea to come up here unaccompanied? It is normally off limits for servants, after all.”

“I-I, well… I mean, firstly thank you for saving me, I had no idea-” Bela holds a finger up in a ‘shut up’ motion, then puts it away as soon as you pause- “right, you don’t care. Look, I was just trying to find the piano books that Lady Dimitrescu mentioned, but I’ve looked all over and I can’t find them, so I should really just go,” you explain, eager to get out of the attic. To your surprise, Bela gives you an odd look before turning away. Then she takes no more than five steps, shifts to the side, and opens an old cabinet. Inside you can see a dozen books of sheet music, notably from several different decades, all worn but still in decent condition. “How did-?... I thought I checked there.”

“Well, you must have been distracted. Nonetheless, you know where they are now, and you owe me twice over. With that in mind… come with me. We have things to discuss,” Bela commanded, walking away before you could protest. All you can do is grab the sheet music, tuck it under one arm, and follow her to who-knows-where.

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

“I’ll have to have you make my tea more often,” Bela mused, letting the mug keep her hands warm. The two of you were sitting in some sort of study, a room that you had never been inside before. From what you could tell it belonged solely to the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. Inside were several shelves, each filled with well bookmarked collections, a desk next to a massive window, a couple simple chairs, and a few instrument cases. All in all it was an aesthetically pleasing room, organized but not exactly neat. You could certainly imagine Bela spending entire days in this chamber. “Now, why do you think I brought you here?” Her voice brings your focus back into the present moment, as well as sends a spike of anxiety through you.

“Based on what nearly got me killed earlier… Does it have to do with Daniela crying?” You asked, doing your best to indicate just how bad you felt about the subject. No matter how cruel she could be, you did honestly care about Daniela, and even wanted a real, healthy relationship with her. Desire, or willingness, wasn’t the root of the problem by any means. Something told you that Bela understood this, maybe even respected you for it.

“Guess there’s more in that pretty head of yours than air and symphonies, hmm?” Bela replied, laughing a little as she did. It was a far nicer sound than Cassandra’s maniacal giggling, for sure. “Now, I don’t know all the details about what happened- just that there was an argument, clearly a bad one, and Daniela barely made it through dinner before locking herself in her room. Luckily for you, our mother doesn’t seem to know about your little ‘fight’. She’s not sure what upset Dani, and I doubt my sister would tell her, so your secret is safe. Assuming that I blackmailed Cassandra well enough, that is. Anyway, I can’t help you, and by extension my sister, if I don’t know the full story. In case it wasn’t clear, that’s your cue to start talking.”

You’re surprised, admittedly, by a number of things. But Bela seems impatient, so you go over the details of the previous night with her, occasionally pausing to let her ask questions. The whole time her focus is on you, unwavering. There’s also a noticeable lack of judgement in her expression, even when you voice your regret about how you handled the situation, and what is there seems directed more towards Daniela than yourself. Once you finish, Bela releases a deep sigh. One of her hands goes to rub her forehead as if warding off a migraine.

“Well, I can’t say I’m terribly surprised, as much as I wish I could. Daniela’s always had her head in the clouds, and it’s left her tripping over her own feet more than once. Still, this is certainly one of her bigger messes…” Bela said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m going to have to talk to her about this, aren’t I? There’s no way she’s going to process this correctly on her own.” This time she seemed to be talking to herself, gaze locked on her tea as if it might suddenly offer to speak to Daniela in her place. When the tea stayed silent, understandably, she returned her focus to you. “You seemed upset, earlier, about this ridiculous situation. I am going to assume, from that, you are genuinely interested in my dear sister. Normally, this would be the part where I drain you of all blood, and possibly keep your skull as a memento... mori. Yours would look lovely on a window sill, I think.”

She pauses, head tilting a little to the side, clearly evaluating your artistic value.

“However, Daniela appears to care about you, far more than her usual fleeting infatuations. So, for now, I have decided not to eviscerate you, you’re welcome,” Bela cooed, teasingly, enjoying the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Still, you were glad that you would apparently be surviving the day. “So I’m going to give you some advice, which you will take, and you won’t even owe me anything extra for this. Daniela is in love with the mere concept of love- and she has been for as long as I can remember. Romance novels are practically the only books she reads. It’s… embarrassing, truly. More than that, I get the impression that she couldn’t even begin to describe what love actually feels like. She’s digested so much of that written drivel that it warped her senses. Of course, the, ahem, situation we find ourselves in, here at the castle, has undoubtedly added to this effect.

“To get to the point, Daniela’s terribly, hopelessly clueless when it comes to things like what she wants from you. And so I take it upon myself, as her older sibling, to ensure that you understand. Moreso, that you are not dissuaded. If this is an actual chance for her to experience real romance, then it could make her happier than I’ve ever seen her,” Bela explained. The look in her eyes was incredibly soft, to the point where it made you realize just how much this odd little family cared for each other. “Don’t give up, don’t let her occasional infuriating antics push you away. Given enough time… I think the two of you could, I suppose, compliment each other quite nicely. But if you break her heart? I will pull yours from your chest and eat it raw. Understood?” Gulping, you nodded quickly, ignoring the feeling of heat rushing to your cheeks. It was one thing for Bela to want her sister to be happy, but another thing entirely for her to acknowledge your “suitability” for the position. “Good. Now return to whatever it is you maidens normally do. I have a sister to talk sense into.”

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

Hours later, you stand alone in a display room, dusting various relics from bygone times. A trophy here, a bizarre art piece there, strange, unlabeled tools you can’t quite imagine are for wine-making. It’s a fascinating collection, really. But your mind is focused on other, far softer things. All you can think about is what Bela had told you, about how Daniela really is interested in you, and how she thought the two of you could make it work. After the chaos earlier in the day, this was exactly what you needed. Just some time to yourself, working quietly, thoughts all to yourself. Even your bruises bother you less, the pain fading out into the background. Considering where you are, though, it is not at all surprising that your peace cannot last. As soon as you finish your task you move towards the exit.

The door swings open, outwards, at your touch, only to reveal a familiar figure reaching for the doorknob. Both of you gasp, taken by surprise, before your gazes meet. Of course it’s Daniela. Who else would you bump into right now?

“I thought about what you said,” she blurts, suddenly, eyes wide and hands shaking. “We need to talk, yeah?”

#daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #cliff hanger oops #had fun writing this one

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ktheist · 3 years

Note

for the drabble game: college!taehyung + sentence starters + no. 8 under misc

8. “But I’ve never told you that before.”

muses. fratboy!taehyung / college!taehyung

kim taehyung and you have an odd relationship.

you’re not even friends, really. just two friends of a friend who makes an accquaintance and happened to find themselves in a secluded class some time after 5, once most of the classes are vacant. the lecturers have their own rooms and the classes are manned by persons from the admin and they hardly ever come around until 8pm when it’s time to lock the doors.

you find out taehyung’s obsession for art and he finds out your obsession for interior design. at least yours isn’t too far off from what mechanical engineering entails.

at some point, you can even say your interests are like two streams running side by side until it mingles at one point in time.

then, you find out that he’s part of one of the most notorious fraternities for their wild parties that lasts for three days straight at the end of every semester. and oh, here’s the good part, only the popular ones get invited.

“figures why you haven’t heard of me,” you tease.

“what? no! i-i’ve heard of you, i just didn’t have the pleasure of meeting you,” his wide-eyed gaze hints at a sort of innocence his brothers lack.

you wonder how he got sucked into the frat house shenanigans.

“chill, i was kidding, i’ve been laying low anyway,” you wave a hand.

“wh-what? why?” he asks and you’re not particularly restricted to telling him the reason.

“first year, jimin and i would’ve celebrated our 4th year anniversary - if you can’t tell, we were high school sweethearts,” you laugh, chest still prickled with the kind of pain only time can heal, “but yeeun came along, he fell for her and since she’s more popular, everyone just started believing that i was the one who got in between her and jimin.”

the rage in taehyung’s eyes spread like wildfire, burning and tearing down everything in its path until you place a hand on his shoulder and he looks at you as if you’re a goddess sent to placate hades’ wrath.

“it’s chill, at least i’m one heartbreak away from finding the right one,” you say.

but taehyung finds you with puffy cheeks and pink eyes as you walk out of the bathroom. it’s no surprise and yet it is. kim yeeun spilled coffee all over your hair and shirt and the slap you give her still reverberates against the walls of the lecture hall.

your friends who came out a second later connects the two dots and nudges you towards taehyung before scurrying away, but not with a threat of ‘you better not make her cry more, kim taehyung’.

why they left you with a boy you barely know is beyond you - but perhaps it’s got to do with the fact that delta psi is in tight rivalry of beta nu, the frat jimin’s been loyal to after he broke your heart and gave his to the girl that’s been microaggressively picking on you since day one.

“i heard the red mark on kim yeeun’s face is still there,” he casually says three days after he’s been running up to you every time he sees you somewhere in the large building made for sleepless engineering students.

“it better, i almost twisted my wrist because of it,” you roll your eyes but taehyung must have known that the hostility is awkward, forced.

then, so it goes, the many instances where kim taehyung and you would be spotted laughing or walking together as if he’s the boy who mended the broken girl’s heart.

unbeknownst to them that you’re the one gradually breaking taehyung’s heart with your ‘you know what, i’ve never had a guy friend’ and ‘chill, you’re scaring my potential boyfriends!’ at parties he starts bringing you to.

“i can’t wait to see johnny again,” you confess, smile curling on your lips as you nudge taehyung’s elbow, “aren’t you curious who this johnny-from-hometown is? might be another subject of you death glares.”

surprisingly, kim taehyung doesn’t bat an eye at the mysterious mention of the name.

“i know, she’s your cat.”

he keeps on walking whilst you stop dead in your track. it doesn’t even take fiv seconds to notice your lack of presence on his side before he stops too, twirling around and shooting you and arched eyebrow.

“but i’ve never told you that before,” you feel your own brows coming together in a frown.

“you mumble in your sleep,” taehyung points out as if it’s the most obvious thing to do.

“oh,” you whole heartedly believe him, falling back into pace with him.

in hindsight, you should’ve probably been more careful when you talk about sleeping and being in each other’s presence whilst that activity was happening. even if it was just taehyung helping out a drunk and offering her shelter until morning comes.

“yoo jia heard it with her own ears! they’re sleeping together!” is what’s been circulating around at the start of the week while you’re stretching your arms over your head as a yawn escapes you.

“i don’t wanna be that person, but,” jennie kim loops her arm around yours when she finds you in the hallway, heading to your shared class, “are you and kim taehyung finally dating?”

“finally?” you feel the muscles on your face contort into an ugly frown, “wait, does that mean there’s been speculations we were gonna end up dating? what?”

and that’s how you find out the rumor that starts up a fire throughout your whole class. by noon, it gets almost impossible to ignore those prying eyes that sticks with you as you stand in front of taehyung, “did you know? about the rumor?”

“can’t say i didn’t,” he shrugs.

“god-” you smack his arm and he dramatically raise his shoulders in brace for impact, “-damn it, why didn’t you tell me?!”

“what good would it do if i told you? ah! cuddlebugs, you’re hurting me!” his voice is exceptionally loud.

“c-cuddlebugs? what the-” you’re rendered frozen and wide-eyed by his tricks yet something in churns with butterflies.

“i’ll see you tonight, okay?” he pinches your cheek and slips past you with a sort of smirk that you’ve never seen him wear.

everything gets weirder from there after.

you become hyper aware of what kim taehyung does or say, the way he has two smiles; a pure box-ish one and a titled smirk that’s just enough to get your heart racing when paired with a rase of his eyebrows. there’s a hint of masculinity under the scent of fruity floral juul he smokes and sticks to his shirt. and his touches tingle. they tingle like a ghost of a touch lingering on the hand that he mindlessly holds to keep you from being pushed around by the wave of dancing bodies.

he laughs when you pull your hand away and crosses your arm over it, “chill, i wasn’t trying to make a pass on you, just making sure you’re still there when i turn around.”

you’ve had records of getting lost in the crowd when it comes to parties - and when are parties not crowded?

taehyung hands you an unopened can of beer and you look at him questioningly because he always pops it open for you, “you don’t trust me to hold your hand but you want me to open your drink for you?”

there’s an underlying brazenness in his teasing tonight, as if he’s mistakenly decided to wear a cloak of a frat boy than the kim taehyung you’ve known and loved.

as a friend that is.

“whatever,” you gulp down the drink with reckless abandon, appreciating the bitterness that somehow roots you to reality despite the impending buzz that’ll drive you away from said reality.

and then you’re back to your old self, laughing and joking around in that bench outside of taehyung’s frat house, sitting a little too closely until your thighs are perched on top of his and his hand is drawing circles on the outside of your thigh.

“i don’t like that,” you confess, “the way you’re trying to act all sexy and hot,” and without any warning, you take his face in your palms, squishing his cheeks, not enough to hurt but enough to make his eyes go wide with surprise and that innocent glint in them, “now, that’s better. that’s my taehyung.”

then his hand travels up from your thigh to your cheek, caressing the heated area of your face with his knuckles, “but if i’m the cute, childish taehyung, you won’t see me as a man.”

“man schman,” you huff, hands falling into your lap, “a real man won’t feel the need to act masculine to get a girl.”

“then... if i tell you i-”

and that’s when you lean so far back, almost hitting your head against the metal edge in the process if taehyung hadn’t caught you in time. eyes screwed shut and mouth partly open, you mumble, “man... schman...”

taehyung shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. he unzips his hoodie and wraps it around you - that’s another one he won’t get back, but he doesn’t mind as much because-

“you’re lucky i like you.”

#taehyung scenarios #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts x you #bts x reader #bts fic #taehyung fic #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts au #bts fluff #bts drabbles #drabble game 1 #excerpt from a fic i'll never write

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iiwontgiveuponmilkk · 4 years

Text

Prison World

Kai Parker x reader

*not my gif

A/n: Soulmate au. I got this idea from two fanfics I read. Currently unedited with a horrible summary :/

Summary: Y/n can’t control her magic and with her link to Kai it doesn’t take long for the Gemini coven to find her

Word count: 2259

Warnings: none?

*1994*

Y/n never quite understood the tattoo that magically appeared on her rib cage. Just under her breast was the Gemini symbol and the initials MP in oddly neat writing. It was the mark of her soulmate. The tiny marking made her oddly curious. It wasn’t unusual for supernatural beings to have a soulmate mark. In fact, only the supernatural beings got them, but they rarely showed up at the age she received hers. She was only fifteen when it burned itself into her skin. That night was also the first night she discovered that her magic was beyond her control. The loss of her grandmother nearly flooded Mystic Falls. Twice. So of course, it didn’t take long for the Gemini coven to find her in 1994. The coven had discovered Malachai’s mark before sending him to his personal prison world. All they had to do was wait for another cosmic event to send the twenty year old into the prison world as well.

Arriving in the prison world felt like she had been sent to hell. Y/n was all alone, and incredibly confused. She searched for hours to find someone. She even went home, but no one was there. Y/n had no idea what was happening. Was she dead? Mystic Falls was completely empty. It was just her, all alone. Y/n was so confused and slowly starting to panic. She searched the house, trying to figure out what had happened. When she entered the kitchen, her attention was immediately drawn to the cup of coffee and the morning paper on the table. Her dad always read the paper before work in the morning. She picked up the paper. May 10th. This paper was over a week old. How could she be here? She began to read through the paper. There would be an eclipse today. She looked up at the clock. It was in exactly two hours.

*1997*

Living in this world was, well, it was hell. Y/n had spent three years alone. At first, she spent her time trying to figure out why this place had been created, who it was for, and why she was here. She had two leads. One in Mystic Falls. Another in Portland. She spent a lot of time in Mystic Falls. Partially to investigate what happened at the Salvatore boarding house, and partially so she could be close to the only thing she had left. Her family home. But eventually she convinced herself to go to Portland. She was terrified of what, or rather who, she might find there. A part of her knew she would find him there the second she connected the dots. Parker family. Portland, Oregon. Massacre. Her mark. This world had been created by the gemini coven for Joshua’s son. Malachai Parker, her soulmate. That’s why she was here. Her soulmate had killed four of his siblings. Her soulmate mark had gotten her into this hell. She was stuck here to make sure he could never access the real world.

Y/n had packed her things and was off to Bell’s for snacks. Then it was off to Portland. She found herself racing across the country in a blue camaro, courtesy of a Bell’s customer who left the keys on the dash. She had a road map with her. She had carefully marked the easiest route from Mystic Falls to Portland. Yet she always found herself lost. Y/n kept missing her exits as her mind raced with what was going to happen to her. What would he do to her? He couldn’t kill her. Well, he could, but she would come back when the world reset. She was worried what he could do if he had magic. If he was stronger than her, she wouldn’t be able to stop him. Her four day road trip ended up taking her twice as long. She couldn’t count the number of times she had gotten lost. When she finally arrived in Portland, she pulled into the first gas station she saw. There had to be a map of the town, or at least just the state. She dug through the maps until she found what she was looking for. She began setting up to do a locator spell. She was pulling candles out of her bag when she froze at the sound of the door opening and the bell above it jingling. She slowly stood up, turning to face Malachai.

“Hi. I’m Kai. I’m a sociopath.” The man smirked at her.

____

When y/n woke up, she was terrified, but nothing was happening. Her magic was gone. She had no idea where she was. The room she was in looked like it belonged to a teenage boy. Y/n turned her attention to herself. Her hair was still wet, but she was in dry clothes. She panicked looking down at the shirt she was wearing. It wasn’t hers, and neither were the sweatpants she was wearing. Had that man changed her clothes? Why did he take her magic? And what did he want with her? Her head was spinning. She had to get out of here. She quietly shuffled to the window and opened it. She tried to pop the screen out, but she had been spelled in. Her heart felt like it was in her throat with how hard it was beating. She slowly made her way to the door, finding that it was unlocked. She was hoping that she hadn’t been spelled into the room, and luckily she hadn’t. But that meant she was spelled into the house, and she didn’t have her magic. She slowly moved through the house, trying her best not to make any noise. She was almost down the stairs when the next step loudly creaked. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard footsteps approaching. “G-get away.” She stuttered out. Y/n felt hopeless without her magic. Kai stopped in his tracks, looking at her. He almost found her state comical. He knew he wouldn’t have stopped if he hadn’t seen her soulmate mark. His initials. His handwriting. His “coven”. He put his hands up, sighing almost as if he was annoyed by her behaviour. Y/n stared at this man, her voice caught in her throat. Neither of them moved for what seemed like hours. Finally she spoke up. “Why did you take my magic?” Her voice was quiet and still seemed panicked. “Well, you see, I don’t have any magic of my own. And you seemed to be bursting with it so I thought I’d take some. I know, what an abomination.” He rolled his eyes, but then continued. “Your magic will be back before you know it. You’ll be all juiced up after you rest.” Kai seemed to be bored with her. “You know, I was going to keep you here as a little magic battery, but then i saw your little mark and I had to laugh.” He chuckled, his eyes never leaving her. Y/n felt like she was frozen in place. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. “The universe is so funny. Of course my soulmate would be someone who is overflowing with magic when I don’t have any of my own. And of course my coven would send you here. God, how dumb could they be.”

*2003*

Y/n had come to know Kai in ways that she didn’t think she could. She knew what he had done to his family. He was sent here to be punished for his crimes. She was sent here due to their soulmate mark and bond. She didn’t think she could grow to trust the monster she had met in 1997. She didn’t think she could ever think of him as anything but a monster, but here they were. Kai was making Christmas dinner with her sitting on the counter, and definitely in his way, but he wouldn’t tell her that. Over the past six years, y/n had learned of Kai’s past. How his family treated him for being a siphon, something out of his control. How he was seen and treated as an abomination. How he wasn’t allowed to touch anyone for his entire life. Her heart almost aches for him. A part of her could understand him, but another part, in the back of her head, clung to the fact he had done atrocious and unspeakable things. Yet she still found herself climbing into his bed when she couldn’t sleep, holding his hand when she was starting to lose control, and even almost kissing him on multiple occasions. “You know, I’m starving.” She spoke up, looking up from her book. The aroma in the kitchen was causing her to salivate. “Dinner will be done in thirty minutes. Please don’t get hangry. I’ll have to restart the whole meal if you bring this house down on us.” He joked, causing her to glare at him.

Y/n laughed at the sight before her. Kai asked if he could “borrow” some of her magic to do the dishes. She agreed, knowing it would at least be amusing to watch. And it was. It was also an absolute mess. Kai had dropped multiple dishes, shattering them. Only uttering a small “oops” each time before trying to concentrate on his task. He loved hearing her laugh, and as much as he hated to admit it, he loved being around her. He wasn’t sure why his coven had sent her here, he knew it wasn’t for him. They probably thought locking her away was the only way to make sure he never got out. He stopped wondering why she was here two years ago. That was the first time that he opened up to her. He had chosen to basically ignore her for a long time, but she almost brought a house down on them with an earthquake, crying that she felt so alone and just wished she was dead. He tried to blame the mark for how he felt about her after he started to grow close to her, but he knew that wasn’t true. Some people live their entire lives without finding their soulmate. Some supernatural beings never even got one. Some got them after being alive for three hundred years. It wasn’t the mark, but he just wanted something to blame for these feelings he was having. Kai could barely believe someone could know what he was and not think he was an abomination. But there she was, laughing as he failed at washing dishes with magic.

“You know, I got you something for Christmas.” Y/n mumbled, pressed to his side and wrapped in a blanket with him. They were sitting outside, star gazing. Y/n had wanted to sit outside and look at the stars every Christmas night. Last year, she finally told Kai that her and her parents used to do this every Christmas after everyone had finally left to go home. “I thought you said no presents?” He asked, lightly squeezing her to his side. “We both know what I said and what I meant are two different things.” She laughed, pulling herself away from him. She reached into her sweater pocket, handing him a small box that was delicately wrapped in red paper with green ribbon and a bow. Kai took it from her, opening it carefully. She watched him, almost impatiently. He could tell; the closer they got, the stronger their bond seemed to be. He opened the small decorative box to find a black velvet ring box. He smirked, cracking the box open. There was a silver ring with a hollowed line around the band. “Are you asking me to marry you?” He asked, making her laugh. “Oh god, Kai. It’s a present, not a marriage proposal. Besides that’s your job.” Y/n rolled her eyes, glaring at Kai in a playful way. He laughed and slipped it onto his middle finger before he reached into the pocket of his jeans. “I didn’t wrap it, but I did get you something.” He told her as he pulled a delicate necklace out of his pocket. He put the necklace on her without giving her a chance to look at it. He brushed her hair out from under the chain as she picked the pendant up off her chest, admiring it. There was a (f/c) gemstone in the middle surrounded by an elegant halo of diamonds. It was small, but beautifully full of detail. “Thank you.” Y/n whispered.

*2007*

“Malachai Parker! If you’re joking right now, I will kill you.” Y/n said, staring down at Kai who was down on one knee, holding a ring in his hand. “I’m not, y/n! God! Will you marry me or not?!” She could feel how nervous he was. His energy seemed to be pulsing through her, almost making her nervous. “Stop being so nervous. Of course I will.” She laughed as he jumped to his feet, planting his lips on hers, and kissing her hard. When they finally pulled away for air, Kai rested his forehead against hers before grabbing her hand. He slid the ring onto her ring finger before kissing her again.

#imagines #one shots #one shot #kai parker x reader #tvd imagine #tvd au #soulmate #kai parker #tvd x reader #the vampire's assistant #vampire diaries #stefan salvatore #damon salvatore #elena gilbert #bonnie bennett #tvd one shot

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datleggy · 3 years

Note

Imagine ! What if Buck's middle name is Robert ? Like just like Bobby and Chris will pont that in Harry potter, all the children have their parents' name as middle names, or other relatives if the are not the elder child. That would be beyond coincidence.

confession: i never got into HP so i didn’t go into too much detail on that aspect.

Everyone is hanging out at the Grant-Nash household for the long weekend, barbequing it up in the backyard, while others relax indoors and wait for the food to be fully cooked.

May, Christopher and Bobby sit together on the couch, enraptured in a Harry Potter marathon playing all day long on ABC.

Buck strolls into the living room from the kitchen where he’s been helping Athena and Eddie with snacks, and hands Bobby a giant bowl of popcorn for the three to munch on.

“Thanks Buck.” Bobby takes the bowl and passes it to May, who happily shares with Chris.

Before Buck can head back into the kitchen Christopher calls out to him. Buck kneels down beside him next to the couch, all ears. “What’s up bud?”

“Do you have a middle name, Bucky?” Christopher asks curiously.

May looks between Bobby and Buck and tilts her head, just as curious to hear the answer.

Buck shrugs. “Uh, yeah, it’s Robert.”

May grins triumphantly, as though she’s connected some dots invisible to Buck. “Just like Bobby!”

Buck blinks and then chuckles softly. “Huh, yeah, I guess I never really thought about it.” he muses.

Bobby remembers reading Buck’s full name when he’d first been hired to work with the 118--Evan Robert Buckley--but at the time he hadn’t given it much thought.

“‘Cause Cap is your dad, right?” Christopher smiles.

May watches Buck become speechless for the first time probably ever and decides to swoop in and save the day. “In Harry Potter the characters usually carry their parents name as their middle name.” she explains. “But that’s just a movie.” she tells Chris gently.

Christopher looks between the two men and purses his lips. “So you’re not his dad?” he asks Bobby this time.

Bobby laughs and jokes, “Oh my goodness no, kiddo. Don’t know how I would’ve wrangled with raising a Buck--he drives me crazy now.”

Buck forces a grin. “True.” He stands back up and dusts off the knees of his pants. “I’m headed back to the kitchen but yell out if you guys need anything.” he lovingly pats Christopher’s head of curls as he passes the couch on his way out of the room.

It’s only when he’s disappeared completely out of sight and out of ear shot that May turns to glare at her step dad. “Bobby what the H-E-double hockey sticks was that?”

Bobby gapes, taken aback by the annoyance on her face.

Christopher helpfully points out, “That spells a bad word.”

May sighs, realizing Bobby has no idea what he’s just done. “You hurt Bucks feelings. It’s obvious to even a blind man that Buck thinks of you as a father figure--why would you say something like that?”

Bobby shakes his head. “May, I was only kidding, Buck knows that.”

May tries her best not to roll her eyes. Are all adults this dense? She’d like to think not, but God, it really does seem that way sometimes. “If you say so.” she shrugs.

They continue to watch the rest of the Harry Potter movie in relative silence after that but the Captains attentions are no longer focused on the marathon. Instead, he keeps looking over his shoulder towards the kitchen, and wondering if May’s concerns hold any merit. Bobby would be dumb not to see that what he and Buck share is most definitely the relationship of a father and son.

Buck has to know Bobby was just joking around, right?

Though, it’s not as if either man has ever actually acknowledged the nature of their bond, not out loud at least.

And Bobby can’t help but remembering the time he told Buck in no uncertain terms that they were not family.

Shit.

Bobby stands up abruptly and May gives him a knowing (and slightly smug) look when he excuses himself to get more popcorn, even though their bowl is still half full.

He walks up the steps to the kitchen where his wife is sipping on a glass of red and telling Eddie, who’s nursing a beer, and Buck about a particularly funny call she’d been dispatched to a few months prior, involving a man and way too many bath salts. She pauses half way when she spots her husband, “Oh hey, run out of popcorn already?” she teases.

Bobby gives her a small smile, shaking his head. “Just wanted to have a word with Buck, is all. But I’m sure the kids wouldn’t mind a refill.” he playfully shakes the bowl in his hands before Athena takes it from him--she gives him the same knowing look her daughter has mastered so well.

Buck and Eddie exchange their own look between one another before Buck lets Bobby lead him to the foyer where they can speak in private.

“What’s up Cap?” Buck is trying his best to sound casual but missing by about a mile; Bobby can tell the kid is nervous about this little one on one.

“Back there, in the living room, what I said, about you not being my kid,” Bobby starts, and it’s only now, that he’s actually paying close attention, that he can see the way those words cut into the young man, try as he might to hide the hurt that flashes across his face. “I was making a joke--albeit, a really stupid one, I realize now.”

Buck shakes his head. “Bobby, it’s fine, really, you don’t have to--”

“Buck,” Bobby interrupts, bringing a hand up to squeeze his shoulder. “I know we might dance around the subject a lot, but I want to make it clear, on my side, at least,” he swallows down his own nerves, “You’re my kid. I can’t think of you as anything but.” he admits.

Buck stares at him in surprise for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. “I--” he pauses, gulps. “Really?” His voice wobbles with feeling.

“Really.” Bobby affirms. He should’ve expected it when Buck practically throws himself into his arms, and though he stumbles backwards for a split second, Bobby quickly regains his footing and wraps Buck in a tight embrace. For someone so tall and broad shouldered, Buck feels fragile and small against his chest and shoulder, Bobby thinks.

#ask #911 fox #father son #bobby and buck #ficlet #i need some more father son moments between these two in s4 #long post is long

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allisonirish · 3 years

Text

Just a fic I've had lying around.

TBB Crosshair x OC

Word Count: 3013

Warnings: Barely Any Fluff, Mentions one of my own headcanons about a SW criminal organization

Hook: Crosshair meets someone on his first shore leave.

Crosshair sat in the corner of 79's, chewing on a toothpick, next to Tech. It was broad daylight, and barely anyone was there, just two Rodians playing cards in the corner and a few green and blue Twi'lek dancers giggling at the bar. Crosshair didn't even know why Tech had wanted to come here in the middle of the day, probably to pay the bill, and get away from Wrecker, who had been playing music very loudly back at the ship. Taking out a fresh toothpick, he saw a girl enter the room. Fiery red hair was piled in a thick bun on top of her head. Her clothes were civilian and hw noticed she wore a pair of dazzlingly white lace up shoes. The dancers seemed to recognize her as she approached and almost as one they stood and moved, whispering to a different part of the room. He saw a few of them glaring at the girl, who either didn't notice or was good at pretending she didn't. Crosshair looked her up and down as she ordered a drink. She was taller than most girls he'd met, slender, lithe. The perfect mixture of strong and graceful.

"Are you ready to go?" Tech asked him, glancing up from his datapad.

"No," Crosshair peered past his brother's shoulder. "No, I want to get a drink."

"A drink? But I just payed our bill from last night... Crosshair?" Tech followed Crosshair as he approached the counter.

"Something mild," Crosshair called to the bartender. He had maneuvered himself perfectly so he was standing right next to the girl. Tech gave him an exasperated look, as Crosshair set his toothpick down on the counter.

He peered at her out of the corner of his eye as his drink was set in front of him. Her skin was pale like white sands, but it wasn't rough like sand, it was surprisingly smooth and almost without blemish. Freckles dotted her forehead, nose, and cheeks like constellations. Crosshair took a sip of his bright purple drink. Her hands were thin and her fingers long and graceful. He he felt his breath hitch slightly when her lips parted as she took a drink. She was beautiful. She glanced over at him with blue eyes. Blue like oceans with sharp green flecks in them.

"Excuse me ma'am, but may I ask you a question?" Tech's voice shattered into Crosshair's consciousness, startling him.

The redhead turned full around to face Tech.

"This may be a bit awkward, but are you a Zyger?" He asked a little to loudly, pushing his goggles up his nose. The Rodians glanced up from their game and one of the dancers gasped at the word. Even the bartender stopped cleaning a glass for half a second as he stopped to listen.

A strange shifting occurred in the girl's eyes as her serenity left her. A metamorphosis, where the blue was slowly being replaced by a stormy green.

"Why would you ask such a thing?" Her voice was soft with a hard lilt to it, almost like a stringed instrument playing a sharp note.

"The edge of your tattoo is showing." Tech pointed to her shoulder, wear the edge of her armband had slipped down, revealing half of an intricately done tattoo.

"The shape and style show similarities to Zygerrian art, so naturally I connected the two."

She jerked the edge of her armband up uncomfortably, her face turning bright red.

"I may have been Zyger...once." She turned back to her drink, shifting uncomfortably, obviously wishing Tech would stop calling attention to her.

"Pardon my brother. He doesn't know when not to pry into other people's business." Crosshair hissed, shooting daggers at Tech with his eyes.

The girl glanced at him gratefully.

"Well, I wouldn't want to admit it if I was a Zyger either, but I would be interested in any details you would like to share, as there are not many proven authentic records of such a faction."

Her face scrunched and the green further took over eyes.

"Tech, shut. up. and buzz. off." Crosshair emphasized every word slowly. He knew sometimes in Tech's enthusiasm for new knowledge, he forgot things like tact and privacy.

The girl's face and Crosshair's tone began to register and Tech hurried off to watch the Rodian's card game, slightly embarrassed.

"I'm Crosshair." He felt his eyes flicker over her face.

"Corynthiana," She nodded at him, face still flushed.

Crosshair struggled to find words.

"I'm sorry about my brother."

"It's alright, I'm used to people's...“ She paused, “reactions.” An awkward silence settled.

“Thank you though, it’s... it’s nice to have someone stick up for me. “

”No problem.”

"I don't haven't met many clones."

"I haven't met many Zyger."

She chuckled a little bit, her laugh ending on a sad note that made Crosshair wish he hadn't said it.

A communicator on her wrist beeped. “I have to go.“ She set down her drink and began to take her credits out of her pocket.

“Let me.” Crosshair placed enough credits on the counter to cover both their drinks.

“Thank you.“ she nodded, slightly smiling. She began to walk away, then turned.

“Will I see you again?” The blue was beginning to return to her eyes.

“My brothers and I are coming back tonight.“ Crosshair felt his heart skip a beat at the thought that of her being there.

“Great, I guess I might see you later then.” She nodded a final time and walked hurriedly out of the bar. Crosshair sighed as his eyes followed her and decided nothing would stop him from being at 79s that evening.

“I thought you didn't even like 79's.” Hunter stared at Crosshair suspiciously, arms crossed over his chest.

“I don't mind 79's. Everyone just get too rowdy there.” Crosshair shrugged, he didn't have to tell Hunter this. His brother knew the noise and general disorder of the place bothered him.

“So why are you wanting to go tonight?”

Crosshair rolled his eyes and deepened his scowl. “You all are going and the drinks are good there.”

“He's going to see a girl.” Tech piped up from behind them.

Crosshair did his best to keep from whipping around and strangling his snitch of a brother.

Hunter's eyebrow arched in curiosity.

“What girl?” Wrecker yelled, running down the ramp of the Havoc Marauder.

“Her name is Corynthiana.” Tech didn't even look up from his datapad. “And she's a Zyger.”

“Ex-Zyger.” Crosshair's brow furrowed.

“Yes, Ex-Zyger, although I'm not sure what difference that makes. According to my research on all members, current or non, they aren't exactly the type you would want to meet in a dark alley.” “Or anywhere for that matter.” Hunter's eyes showed his disapproval.

“Tech doesn't know her, you can't judge someone you don't know.” Crosshair tried to use something Hunter had said to him many times before against him.

“Yes, but you don't know her either.” Tech pulled out a blowtorch and began working on one of his projects.

“Will I get to meet her?” Wrecker threw his arm roughly around Crosshair's shoulder.

“No!” Hunter and Crosshair said simultaneously.

Crosshair shoved Wrecker off of him, then turned to face his older brother. Hunter wanted to say something, Crosshair could tell by the look on his face.

"What?"

“This is our first shore leave since leaving Kamino.” Hunter began slowly. “And I don't want a member of our squad to become infatuated with the first girl he sees. You know it happens to other soldiers.”

“Other regs.” Crosshair rolled his eyes. He didn't need Hunter to act like his parent.

“Yeah and it's not the first girl Cross has seen. We've seen plenty of girl's on missions and the dancers last night.” Wrecker slapped Crosshair on the back almost knocking him over.

“You know I trust you Crosshair, just don't do anything stupid.” Hunter clapped him on the shoulder as he walked past to watch Tech.”

“Is she pretty?” Wrecker asked curiously.

Crosshair only nodded and walked back to their ship. She was pretty, beautiful even and he couldn't wait to spend the whole night with her.

Crosshair rolled his eyes. Why had he even come here again? For a girl he didn’t even know. The night was half over and she still hadn't showed. It didn't help that his brothers were already acting like fools. Hunter was completely drunk and was dancing clumsily with an orange Twi’lek. Tech was also completely intoxicated as he was unsuccessfully trying to hold himself and a drunk reg up, while Wrecker was babbling and throwing darts at a board over and over, long after the game had ended and the other competitors had left. Why did he even think the girl would show up? Why had he gotten his hopes up in the first place? It was uncharacteristic of him, and he recognized that. He threw his toothpick angrily on the floor.

Still, the way she had looked at him, blue eyes soft, curious, had made his heart do little flips in his chest. He'd always thought himself above crushes, especially on girls he had just met, but he had fallen for her in a matter of moments. He'd gone out of his way to keep Tech from bugging her, he even bought her drink. He'd contemplated that as he shaved his face that evening. He would never have done that for anyone, he always guarded his savings carefully, but he'd bought her drink and now she'd stood him up.

Suddenly Crosshair's ears caught her voice. She had just walked in the door. She was dressed in dark blue pants and a long sleeved white shirt with those stunningly clean white shoes to match.

"Hey soldier," She called as she waded through the crowd. "I didn't figure you would even be here."

Crosshair tried speaking, but his tongue had grown thick. What was wrong with him?

"I didn't think you would come either."

"I make it a priority to keep my appointments." She laughed, a sound he could barely hear above the music.

She glanced around and he felt himself examining her again. Her shirt and pants fit snuggly, but not enough to make her look like she was trying to flaunt something. and he noticed a necklace, a simple gem wrapped partially in leather on a string that lay against her chest.

"Kinda loud here isn't it?" She pressed her palms to her ears.

He nodded in response, noticing Hunter, drunkenly making his way towards them.

"Do you wanna go somewhere more quiet?" She raised her voice.

"Sure."

Hunter was getting closer, and for some reason Crosshair didn't want her to know that was his brother, completely stoned with a big splatter of red lipstick, probably from that Twi'lek, across his forehead. Also Hunter may try to say something to her, something rude or embarrassing.

He followed her out the door where she hailed a speeder for hire. She said a few words to the driver, handed him some credits, then turned back to Crosshair.

“Hop in.”

He slid into the backseat and she scooted in next to him. The speeder took off, through Coruscant's dense traffic, the light's from the assorted clubs and bars sped by. The more exclusive clubs had long lines of patrons waiting to be let inside, while rich playboys with scantily dressed women on their arms were ushered right in by the rough looking bouncers.

"So, what's it like, being a soldier of the Republic?"

He turned back to her. Her blue eyes sparkled with the glow of all that was happening around them.

"It's alright."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a sniper."

Her face fell and her voice grew solemn. "That's a lot of responsibility, your brothers must trust you an awful lot."

"I suppose." Crosshair said, not missing the look of respect in her eyes.

“Is this your first shore leave?”

“Yes.” He wondered how she knew.

“It's easy to tell when it's a shiny's first leave, they're all bug eyed and jumpy, cause they're not used to the city.”

Crosshair felt his lips drop into a scowl.

“I'm not bug eyed.”

She smiled a toothy smile that he thought was one of the best smiles he'd seen. It wasn't one of those gorgeous smiles he'd seen on models, but it was genuine, and he liked that.

"So what division are you in?"

"Clone Force 99."

"Is that some part of a special forces squad? For...special clones?"

Crosshair had spent some time earlier wondering if she would ask why he didn't look like the other clones.

"You could say that."

She cocked a thin, red eyebrow as a silent way of asking.

"It's a squad for genetically defective clones."

He put a fresh toothpick in his mouth and his eyes dropped, both signs, which to his brothers would have meant he didn't feel like discussing a topic anymore. He didn't know why he suddenly felt so inadequate, telling her that he was defective. It raised many of the insecurities about himself he thought he had buried when he left Kamino.

Crosshair felt a strange, unfamiliar pressure on his hand. He looked down to see her small, white hand atop his, slender fingers wrapped gently around his own. Her hand was warm, he could feel their heat through his gloves.

He looked back up into her eyes. There was an understanding in them, a knowing that went beyond anything words could express at that moment. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to pull away from the contact, to escape from the vulnerability he felt when she looked at him that way. Her hand gently squeezed his, creating a hard lump in the back of his throat.

"Corynthiana..." He liked the feel of her name on his tongue. He decided to try it again.

"Corynthiana,"

"Yes?" Her eyes never left his.

"Where are we going?"

Her eyes shifted down for only a moment.

"Nowhere, I only paid the cabby to drive us around, not take us anywhere in particular."

"Why?" Her answer had surprised him. He threw his toothpick out of the cab, awaiting her answer. She sighed and her hand slipped off his, leaving it cold.

"Crosshair, what do you know about the Zyger?"

Crosshair felt his heart sink in disappointment. So this is what she'd been leading up to. She'd taken him away from his brothers, his squad, and acted like she could read his thoughts. Acted like she cared a little bit about him, just so she could find out what he knew about her.

"I know the Zyger are filthy murderous assassins who work for Zygerrian slaver scum. They kill woman and children, burn crops, and wipe out entire towns, just to make a few credits." He hissed, then instantly felt bad. He hadn't meant for it to come out so harsh and when she winced he immediately wished to take it all back. Her eyes fell to the side, and the pain on her face was obvious.

"You're right," She scooted away from him. "We are scum."

Part of Crosshair was still frustrated at her for deceiving him, but the other part of him wanted to take her hand, to apologize for his words. Words that he had known would hurt and had said anyway.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, her voice almost broken. "I shouldn't have brought you out here, but after this morning, I...I just wasn't sure your brother wouldn't report me. I'm...I'm illegal, you know."

Her eyes drifted back up to him and Crosshair noticed they were a deep, foggy green.

"I'll go to prison if the police find me. Not just for a few years, but for life and that's if I'm lucky. Most Ex-Zyger are executed immediately following a trial."

Crosshair's heart stopped. The thought of her being imprisoned or killed disturbed him.

"I...I know we don't know each other, but I saw something in you this morning. Something I thought I could trust, something that made me think you cared. And I thought maybe you could help me."

Crosshair sighed, perhaps giving off the wrong impression.

"I don't want credits!" She yelled suddenly, causing the driver to turn his head slightly towards them and Crosshair to flinch.

"Sorry," She apologized throwing her hands up. Reading the shock on his face from her outburst.

"I...I just want someone to talk to and spend time with. I've been alone here for a while and.." She took a deep breath. "I don't know who to trust."

The driver parked back in front of 79's. Crosshair hadn't even realized they'd been making a circle. Her eyes pleaded with him and he saw in her an endless need for companionship, for someone to trust. He had his brothers, but Corynthiana...she had no one and he couldn't begin to think how long it may have been since she did have someone she could talk to, someone she could trust.

He contemplated for a half second that felt like an eternity. What if Hunter was right? What if she was playing him for a fool? Crosshair didn't think he could be that easily duped, but the Zyger were master criminals. They could take advantage of anyone, even him. Yet his heart longed to help her, to stay with her, to see her again.

"Where do you wanna meet next?"

Her face broke into that huge smile.

"I don't know. Where do you wanna go?" Her eyes were becoming that peaceful blue again.

Crosshair thought a moment. "There's a few places I've heard of that you might like."

"Perfect! You can send them to me!" Corynthiana dug a scrap of paper out of her pocket and held it out to him. Crosshair took it, it was her private comm channel. When he looked up again, she had already clambered out of the speeder.

"Thank you." She said softly when he had joined her in walking back into 79's. "You don't know how much this means to me."

"Yes I do." He whispered and he really did.

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howtosingit · 3 years

Text

Fic: shatter every window ‘til it’s all blown away

Carlos visits family in San Antonio while TK faces multiple storms in Austin.

Missing moments from 1x04.

2.1K | Also on AO3

- - - - - -

definitely just saw like 7 tornadoes

wtf

why exactly does this state want to kill me?

Carlos is sitting on his mother’s couch in San Antonio when he gets TK’s texts. It’s the first time he’s heard from the guy in a couple of days, since he left him on his front porch after their date. The silence hasn’t been terrible, if Carlos is being honest with himself. Sure, TK continues to take up space in his head every moment of every day, but the space seems to be getting smaller, or at least less centralized. He thinks that must count for something.

He glances up at the TV across the room, watching the meteorologist report on the major storm system wreaking havoc on Texas. Outside, rain pelts the windows of his mom’s one-story house, thunder roaring as lightning flashes. They’re a little too far south to be facing any tornadoes, but based on what he’s seeing, he can only imagine what kind of chaos Austin is experiencing at the center of the system.

Behind him, his mother and sisters flit around the kitchen preparing dinner, their conversation barely audible over the thunderstorm. He focuses on his phone again, thinking about how to respond.

Consider that a true Texas welcome?

Are you somewhere safe?

Carlos bites his bottom lip, watching as three dots appear at the bottom of his screen. He assumes that if TK is texting him he’s probably okay, but he’s sure this is the firefighter’s first tornado, so it doesn’t hurt to check. TK has been known to chase danger before.

yeah I’m at work

cowboy judd has us hunkered down until it clears

wbu?

Carlos looks back towards the TV, staring at the map that has taken over the screen. He sees numerous watches and warnings across the state, with a large concentration around Austin. The damage in certain areas is going to be catastrophic.

I’m in San Antonio, we’re just getting heavy rain here

There’s a pause following his text, long enough that he sets his phone down next to him, leaning forward on the couch to rub his temples. He’s already imagining the crazy workload awaiting him when he returns to town, not to mention all the loss. His heart clenches in his chest, knowing that it’s going to be a long road to recovery for his city.

His phone buzzes next to him.

I didn’t know you were out of town

but I’m glad you’re out of the worst of it

Carlos is already typing a response when another text comes through.

when are you back?

Carlos blinks, forcing himself not to read anything into TK’s messages. They’re friends now, or trying to be, and it’s super normal to ask these kinds of questions. TK’s just being curious, nothing more.

Tomorrow night, I’m working Monday

Just visiting family for a few days, it’s my sister’s birthday

He wonders if he needed to share that last bit. TK hadn’t asked for it, and he probably won’t care what reason he has for being out of town. Carlos sighs, wondering why he feels like he has to overthink every interaction with this man.

tell her happy birthday!

Judd says we’re probably going to lose service soon, it’s getting worse around the station

I’ll text you back when I can

Carlos sends a message telling him to be safe before tossing his phone to the other end of the couch, knowing that if he holds onto it he won’t do anything else until he hears from TK again. His mother finds him a few moments later, biting his fingernails as he stares at the continuous weather report. She runs her fingers through his curls, a surefire way to soothe him.

“I’m so glad you’re here and not in the middle of all of that, mijo,” she says, and he glances up to find her watching the report as well, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are all of your friends safe?” she asks, looking down at him. He nods, his eyes closing as he feels her gentle touch on his scalp. He can feel anxiety rolling off of him in waves. “That’s good,” she says, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Come help in the kitchen, nene. You need a distraction.”

Her voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. With a sigh, he pulls himself up from the couch, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they head into the other room, his phone left behind.

- - - -

He’s only about 20 minutes from Austin when his phone rings, the sound cutting through the music blasting in his car. Carlos glances over at his phone where it’s mounted on the dashboard, surprised to see TK’s name on his screen.

The firefighter had texted him once the storms had cleared, letting him know that everyone was safe and the station was still standing. Carlos wished him luck as the 126 headed out into the wreckage, honestly not expecting to hear from TK again before they saw each other at work.

He reaches out, swiping his finger across the screen to answer the unexpected call.

“TK?”

There’s a moment of silence before Carlos hears the other man take a deep breath, the sound traveling clearly through his car’s speakers.

“Hey, Carlos.”

Carlos feels his heart drop down into his stomach at the weak, broken tone of TK’s voice. His mind races with worst-case scenarios, wondering what could’ve possibly happened during his shift.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, trying to keep his voice calm. An image of a battered and bruised TK curled over his desk flashes through his mind, and he presses a little harder on the accelerator, wondering how quickly he can get back home.

“Not exactly. I just…”

TK trails off, hesitating, and Carlos rolls his eyes, frustrated that this conversation is happening over the phone and not in-person. He feels so helpless from so far away.

“Just talk to me, TK. I’m listening.”

There’s another pause, and Carlos swears that he’s about to scream in frustration. He has no idea what’s going on with TK right now, but in the entire time that he’s known him, he’s never heard the other man sound this shattered. Every heavy breath that Carlos hears through the phone feels like a punch straight to his chest.

“We lost someone on a call today,” TK starts, his voice blank. “A dad who wouldn’t let us treat him until we saved his kids. They were trapped in the house.”

Carlos bites his lip, his hands gripping tightly to the steering wheel as his eyes fill with tears. He knows what it’s like to have someone die in front of him, to feel like all he did was stand by and watch it happen. Those are the days where he feels completely useless, like there’s no point in him wearing the badge at all. He knows it’s impossible to save everyone all the time, but he can’t imagine not doing everything in his power to try.

“We got the kids out,” TK continues. “They all reunited, and then he just collapsed. Right in front of all of us. It felt so sudden, and there was n-nothing we c-could do.”

Carlos is shocked by the sound of TK crying over the phone, his breath stuttering over the last few words. He feels a tear of his own fall onto his cheek, his bottom lip quivering at the pain in the other man’s voice.

Doing what they do isn’t easy. It’s process and procedure and protocol. It’s assessing the situation, finding those who need the most help. It’s quick and sometimes callous, but it’s what they have to do, to be of any real use. It’s tunnel vision and quickest actions, all in the name of saving as many people as they can.

And it always hurts, when someone slips through the cracks; when someone’s pain goes undiscovered until it’s too late. Every time, it makes Carlos want to throw away the rule book, rethink the system, figure out how to make it better. He just wants to save everyone.

“I’m so sorry, Ty,” he says, the nickname slipping through for the first time. He tries to keep his voice calm and clear, for TK’s sake.

The other man doesn’t respond, but Carlos can hear him crying through the phone, quiet sobs rolling through the speakers. He’s just about to speak up, say something else, maybe offer a distraction, when TK’s voice cuts through.

“My dad has cancer,” he whispers, and of all the things that Carlos thought he might say, that revelation had not been anywhere on the list.

“What?” Carlos asks, the single syllable rattling through the air before he can stop it, his heart caught in a vice-like grip of terror for TK.

The man has already faced so much.

“I found some pills in his desk,” TK explains. “They’re prescribed for chemo patients.”

“Fuck, TK,” Carlos whispers, running his fingers through his curls as he takes his exit off I-35. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah,” TK says, letting out a breath. He doesn’t say anything else.

“Where are you right now?” Carlos asks, a new fear running through him.

“Home.”

“Is anyone with you?”

“No.”

“Do you need someone?” Carlos asks, making a decisive turn towards TK’s house. Just in case.

“I don’t know,” TK says weakly. “I… I don’t know, Carlos.”

“What are you thinking?” Carlos asks, trying to figure out TK’s state-of-mind. He seems a little all-over-the-place, and Carlos doesn’t even know where to begin.

“I can’t lose him, Carlos,” TK responds, and Carlos can hear the sob in the back of his throat. “He’s all I have here, I can’t lose him. I’m looking around and he’s everywhere and I can’t escape him or, or this image of him just collapsing right in front of me, without warning. Just like that dad did today. What if that had been my dad, and I missed it because I wasn’t paying attention? Because I was focused on everything else and not on the person who was really dying?”

Carlos makes another turn. “I understand that, TK, but it’s not going to happen, okay? It’s not. You know now, and nothing happened to your dad. I know it’s hard, but you can’t get trapped in the ‘what-ifs,’ you’ll drive yourself crazy,” he says, trying to be as soothing as possible.

“I don’t have anywhere to go that isn’t connected to him,” TK continues, “but I also don’t want to leave, because something could happen when I’m not here. I don’t know what to do, and I just keep pacing around the house.”

“Would it…” Carlos hesitates, wondering if he should even offer. “Would it help to have someone there with you, while you wait for him?”

“I…” TK starts, his voice cutting out. “I thought you were in San Antonio?”

“I just got back, I could be at your place in 10, if you want,” Carlos tells him, already mentally mapping the drive. He turns left, getting closer.

“Are you serious?”

“Of course I am,” Carlos states, his voice firm. “‘Not running away,’ remember?”

There’s a heavy silence following the reminder of their last face-to-face conversation. Carlos pulls up to a stop sign, holding his breath as he waits for TK to make a decision.

“Thank you, Carlos,” he finally says, and Carlos wonders if he’s imagining the lighter tone in his voice.

“I’m only a few minutes away, okay? Do you want to stay on the call?”

“Do you mind?”

“No, not at all,” Carlos says, his heart feeling a little bit lighter as TK voice strengthens on the other end of the line.

“How was your sister’s birthday?” TK asks suddenly, and Carlos hears the clear request for a distraction; one that he’s more than happy to provide.

He’s in the middle of sharing how he helped his mom with the cake when he knocks on the door to the Strand household. Seconds later, TK throws open the door, his eyes red and glassy as he drops his phone and pulls Carlos towards him. He wraps his arms around TK’s frame, pressing him against his chest as they stand in the doorway, letting TK’s tears soak the t-shirt he’s wearing as he gently strokes his back.

There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. There’s just a desire to support and comfort and protect.

He can’t imagine being anywhere else.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #I wrote a thing #tarlos missing moments collection

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namorres · 4 years

Text

DO WE HAVE A DEAL? ∞ ELIJAH MIKAELSON

requested by: @mo-whore → Can i request an elijah mikaelson where the reader is the younger sister of the Salvatore’s brothers?

wc | 2.5k

warnings | blood, details of being stabbed? canon violence tbh

notes: okay so! this story is based around tvd elijah instead of originals elijah so he’s a bit cockier but! i hope you don’t mind it! i loved writing it :)

masterlist

Y/n climbed out of the car, walking past her older brothers without wanting to listen. The entire trip there, they’d squabbled about Elena, about how they felt and how Stefan was going to deal with her. Needless to say, Y/n was about ready to plug her ears or slap duct tape over their mouths – it was a pointless argument they kept having.

“Damon, seriously, we have something to do, can we just drop it?” Stefan said, not having made it two steps from the car.

“No, Stefan. You’ve been avoiding it ever since we got in the car–”

“Shut the hell up!” Y/n turned on her heel, bridge of her nose pinched between her fingers as she rubbed at the headache forming. “It does not matter! You both love her, you both want her safe. Okay? Great.” Her brothers looked at her as if she were crazy, Stefan’s brows lowered and Damon’s eyes wide. “I’ve listened to you two argue over a girl – with the same face, might I add – for a century now. I don’t care about who loves her more, I just care about getting her back home safe. Can we do that?” Her shoulders were up, tone exasperated and quiet, “Is it okay if we do that?”

“Yeah,” Stefan answered, nodding, head down and walking toward her.

“Whatever you say, little sis,” Damon bit, but she knew he was hiding behind his tongue – he knew she was right, he’d just never admit it. Sibling rivalry at its finest.

They all walked to a dilapidated house that sat in the middle of a rather dense forest-y area. The windows were boarded up, the walls covered top to bottom in moss and shrubbery. As Y/n walked on to the porch, the boards creaked underneath her boots, a stench of rotten, wet wood invading her senses. “No better place to hide somebody, right?”

Touching her hand to the doorknob, she gave it a tug. Locked. Of course.

“Guys, we need another–”

A shatter of glass took her attention away from the front entrance, coming from around the side of the house. Walking to the source, she glared at Damon, looking rather proud of himself. “After you, m’lady.”

Biting back a small snicker – no matter how annoyed she got, he always found a way to make her laugh, she and Stefan went through the window, followed by Damon. The house was just as beaten and broken inside as it was outside. A second more of looking around, then all three Salvatore’s stopped, Damon placing a finger to his lips.

Voices.

Scattering, all three of them went to different corners of the room, Y/n and Stefan traveling up the stairs, and Damon into the parlor. Her grip tightened around the stake-shooter in her hand, holding it closer to her hip. Y/n heard a shout, a man’s voice, then a woman’s, then Elena’s. As soon as they had come into the main entryway, Damon ran behind him, then Stefan in front of him. He threw Elena to the other woman he was with, looking around him, “Rose?”

“I don’t know who they are!” She defended.

“Up here,” Stefan said, opposite Y/n on the staircase. She heard steps up the stairs, could see the suit the man wore, half-shrouded by the wall.

“Down here,” Damon taunted, making the man turn around.

He stopped for a minute, looking around the room as if he’d be able to see either of them. “Whatever game you’re playing at here—”

Y/n stepped from around the stairs, quietly, pulling the trigger and sending a stake through the center of his palm. He reeled back, looking down at it and letting out a growl. In seconds, Stefan moved to grab Elena, and Damon grabbed the woman Y/n presumed to be Rose. The man looked back up, anger beginning to rise off of him like steam.

“To whomever it may concern!” He shouted, looking around, grandstanding. “You may try to defeat me but,” he laughed, “you can’t.”

Y/n came from around the stairs, fully this time, looking the man in the eye. He stopped, a curious smirk on his lips, head tilted. Y/n gripped the shooter, aiming it straight at his heart, taking a breath, and pulling the trigger. The wood soared across the room, the man’s hand stopping it just as the tip pushed against his chest.

“I warned you,” he taunted, giving her a cocky grin. In a blink, she was down in front of him, another stake in hand. She lunged for his chest, digging it through until she could feel it break his ribs. He groaned, letting out a breath and shoving her to the wall behind him, pinning her there. Grabbing the wood from his chest, he ripped it out, holding eye contact with her, then shoving it into the side of her neck.

She gripped her throat, strangled breathing making the throbbing worse. The man stared at her for a moment, looking in her eyes. He took in a breath, leaning in just a small bit closer, “I will come for you. And when I do, you will let me in.”

Stefan came from around the other set of stairs, firing off stake after stake. The man met him in the middle, attempting to disarm him. Stefan lunged forward, sending the both of them rolling down the stairs. Damon was down to meet them, having grabbed the coat rack when everyone’s eyes were on the two fighting, snapping it in half and shoving the man backward.

Y/n moved out of the way just in time, rolling to the side and falling against the ground, sputtering blood onto the dusty wooden floors. Damon shoved the man into the door, digging the broken coat rack through his chest and watching the blood under his skin turn ashen grey. A triumphant smile took over his face, stepping back and admiring his handiwork for a moment. Then Y/n sputtered another cough, ripping the stake from her throat and laying on her back.

Rose took off as soon as Damon turned around, but his focus wasn’t on her. He knelt down to Y/n, who let out a groaned whine, “Son of a bitch.” Her eyes met her brother’s, hooded and tired, “Can we go home?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughed, hooking his arms underneath her legs and her chest and picking her up from the floor. Her head fell against his chest, and Stefan came out, Elena in tow.

“Y/n?” Stefan came over to his sister, looking up to Damon.

“Stake through the neck,” Damon joked, “hurts like a bitch.”

Stefan gave him a deadpan look, palm cupping his sister’s cheek as he looked her over. The wound was working its way closed, but she was already passed out against Damon’s chest.

“She’s fine, Stefan,” Damon scoffed, “just needs some rest.”

–

Y/n woke up on the couch, hissing at the ache in her neck and sitting up. Shaking her head and scrubbing her eyes, she looked to the windows and noticed it was pitch black out. She sighed, fingers ghosting over her neck as she continued to look around. Her brothers were probably asleep, having left her here instead of taking her to her room. Likely Damon, just to mess with her.

Standing from the couch, she stretched, groaning and beginning to trudge to the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks whenever she heard a faint knock at the door, focus snapping to it. Walking over, she hesitantly grabbed the doorknob, opening the door and peeking around the side.

“Good evening,” a man said, shrouded in the dark. She opened the door just a little more to see him, the breath catching in her throat. Him. “Care to let me in? It is getting a bit nippy outside, don’t you think?”

Without thinking, she opened the door completely and nodded, eyes trained on his feet as he crossed the threshold. The house hadn’t been owned by humans, there was no need for her to tell him he could verbally – she was regretting that, now. Her eyes trailed up his frame, tracing his figure all the way up to the side of his face.

Sharp jaw, narrowed brown eyes, loose brown hair atop his head. His hands were tucked in his suit, which was slightly dirty. When he turned to her, she saw the rather large hole torn through his dress shirt, exposing a small portion of his skin.

“Thank you,” he said, lips parted and upturned in a small smirk. “What’s your name?”

She blinked up at him for a moment, still trying to process why she hadn’t called for either of her brothers yet, nor why she let him in in the first place. “Uh,” she mumbled, licking her lips, “Y/n. My name is.. Y/n.”

“I’m Elijah, Y/n,” his head tilted, then he turned toward the living, room, walking in and leaning against the back of the couch with one hand. When he looked toward her again, the same smirk was painted on his face.

She looked down, arms crossing over her chest as she walked forward to stand in front of him. “I’ve heard about you,” she muttered, “an Original, right?”

“Mm,” he grunted in agreement, eyes looking her over.

“Now,” she swallowed, leaning against the couch with her hip, brows furrowing, “what does an Original want in Mystic Falls, with me?”

He huffed a chuckle, lips parting again as he tested her resolve with his gaze. When she held it, he gave her a thoughtful frown, “You’re going to help me keep Elena safe.”

She reeled back a small bit, staring up at him in confusion, “You want to keep Elena… safe?” When he nodded, she licked her lips and shook her head, “Help me connect the dots here – you have someone take her, meet them, try to kidnap her, then come to my house, and tell me that you want to keep her… safe. Have I got that right?”

Elijah smiled at her, looking off to the side before refocusing on her, “I have my own motives. I just need your assistance in assuring that the dopplegänger remains unharmed.”

Y/n mirrored his expression, stepping closer to the Original, “Care to indulge? I don’t make promises without details.”

Elijah’s gaze flicked over her again as he looked down at her, this time slower, tongue darting across his lips. He took in a breath, words lingering in the air before he continued, “I will tell you this – you and your… brothers,” the words came off his lips with a hint of disgust, “will remain unharmed. My motives are simple – keep the girl safe, ensure that this ritual… never happens.”

Y/n studied him for a moment, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Why me? Why not… Bonnie, or Stefan or Damon? Or hell, Jeremy? That’s her brother.”

He fixed his cufflink, twisting so that his lower back was now what propped him against the couch. “I am not so interested in someone telling her that I was here yet,” he sighed, “besides, they are all… too close to her.”

“What makes you think I won’t tell her, hm?” Y/n’s head tilted to the side, challenging him with her words.

“Because you,” he said, looking at her over his shoulder, “don’t love her the same.”

Y/n looked at the vampire before her in shock, lips parted and breathing shallow. While it was true that she didn’t regard the Gilbert girl with the same affection as her friends and her brothers, she would still do anything to keep her safe. And if that meant telling her Elijah was here, asking about her, then she would. “You don’t know that,” Y/n bargained.

“Oh, but I do,” he said, looking back down at his shoes, “you see, what you did today, at the house, was for your family, not for Elena Gilbert.” He looked up at her again, eyes narrowing for a moment, “You value your brothers over her. That is what I know. Because I would do the same for my own family.”

Y/n had nothing to say – he had her pegged. She wouldn’t tell Elena, she knew that deep down. Reason being, if she told Elena, she would tell her brothers, and her brothers would go into another frenzy of worry trying to make sure the girl stayed safe. Then they’d do what they always do – put her second.

“I had a sister,” Elijah said, lowly. “My only sister, in fact.”

“Had?” Y/n looked at him with less crease in her brow, still hesitant, but more willing to hear him out.

“My brother… my brother killed her,” Elijah sneered, turning toward her and tucking his hand back in his pocket. “And then he hid her, and the rest of my family’s, body. And he ran.”

“...Klaus,” Y/n whispered. “The other Original.” She’d read up on the first family at one time in her life, curious about her own existence. According to the books, Klaus was the oldest, the worst of them all, and his siblings were all… dead. Except for one.

“Yes,” he said, looking to her. Then he looked away for a moment, sucked a breath through his teeth and said, “Do we have a deal?”

He was doing this for his family. The same reason Y/n did anything that risked her life. They were fighting a similar battle. She could respect that much. Looking down at her hands, she muttered, “Are you going to stay in Mystic Falls?”

He stayed silent for a moment, then nodded, “I believe so.”

“Can– can we meet again?” Her gaze found his once more, her heart nearly beating out of her chest, “I’d like to know more about this ritual… about your family. You.”

His lips parted, brows furrowed. He looked perplexed at her request, confused that she’d even ask such a thing. Then with a tilt of his head, he agreed, “I suppose so. I’ll leave you my number. But, before that, I need to know – do we have a deal?”

She sighed, biting the inside of her lip and then nodding, “Yeah. We have a deal.”

He put his hand out, asking silently for her phone. She obliged, setting it in his palm and watching as he typed the number in, then saved the contact. As he handed it back, he leaned in close to her ear, “Until we meet again, Y/n Salvatore.”

Then he was gone. Y/n took in a quick breath, staring at the door with furrowed brows. Her heart was nearly beating out of her chest, adrenaline pumping from feeling the rush of him leaving. Looking down at her phone, she saw his number still on the screen, his name written out. Elijah Smith.

She thought about his choice of last name in her phone… did he even have a last name? Then she realized that he was likely just covering his tracks, making it as inconspicuous as he could. Y/n thought about the idea of seeing him again, wanting to punch herself and congratulate herself at the same time – who’s to say he wouldn’t kill her the next time they saw each other? Who’s to say he would?

#hope this okay!#:)#elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #the originals x reader #the vampire diaries x reader #damon salvatore x reader #the vampire diaries imagine #**

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chroniclesinlacuna · 3 years

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Warmth (read on ao3)

Pairing: m!detective (Dom Traore) x Mason Warnings: mentioned past violence/blood Words: ~1.5k Rating: G Summary: Some days, you just need to not be noticed while you deal with your hurts. And some days, it's not so bad to be seen.

It was way too warm. The thought scratched at the back of his mind even as he continued watching the fire. He’d started it when he’d come into the common room - and, in his defense, he’d been freezing when he’d gotten in. A late spring cold snap had hit the town and his car’s heater was older than he was, or damn near.

Idly fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie, he debated tugging it off, if only to enjoy the glow of the fire for a little longer yet. The warehouse was quiet around him - too late in the evening and too early in the night for anything to rouse the team to more than routine, if that - and he was enjoying the almost isolated feeling the amber light from the fire caused - casting soft leathers and plush carpets into sharp relief and blurring out the edges.

He hadn’t had much time to come up here lately, and even when he had, more of then than not he’d catch the team on their way out, if he caught them at all. And that was fine - everything was still settling and the growing pains of setting up a new base of operations were obvious. Still, sometimes it was nice to just...show up. And not have to worry about a welcome. It was a place he could disappear into without much thought, and one he was growing to cherish.

That said.

They didn’t screw around with the amenities. The room was large and open, and still, the fireplace managed to heat it all up without much trouble, and Dom wasn’t sure to be glad of it or not. Part of the temptation of a fireplace, sometimes, was the bite of cold just at your back. Or your partner’s back, if you managed to find some company.

He heard the click of the door behind him, and he dropped against the back of the couch, tilting his head back to get a look. Mason eyed him, raising an eyebrow from the doorway.

“When’d you get in, handsome?”

Dom hummed, then shrugged and straightened again. “Bout an hour ago.”

“Something wrong?” And the tone shift is slight - so thin and thready Dom’s sure it’ll melt away with the barest assurance. Dom can practically feel Mason’s gaze on him - isn’t disappointed when Mason rounds the couch, eyeing him almost carefully.

“Nah. Just didn’t feel like going home for a bit.” The strong bend of Mason’s shoulders bends as he accepts that answer, easy as anything, before dropping down on the couch beside him - legs splayed out in front of him like he owns the place.

There’s quiet then, Dom picking up one of his legs onto the couch to rest his chin on his knee, back to watching the fire, even as he knows Mason watches him. It’s curious now, though - the sharp edge to his gaze melted into easy observation. It’s a look Dom’s gotten used to over the past couple months; one he enjoys, if he lets himself think about it.

“Aren’t you hot?” He asks, after a long couple of moments. Dom raises an eyebrow, shifting his cheek to his knee to turn to look at him. Mason pauses, then scowls slightly. “Not like that. I’ve got eyes.”

Dom grins, even as Mason’s scowl deepens. “Yeah.” He offers, shrugging.

That gets him a look in return. Dom returns it steadily.

There’s a long couple of seconds where Dom’s sure Mason will drop it. It’s skirting around that thin-as-ice barrier they’ve cut out between themselves - one they crack and shake regularly, with sharp flirting and fleeting looks and soft touches they don’t admit to. But they haven’t crossed it yet. And Dom’s not sure Mason will here, either.

But he wouldn’t like Mason nearly as much if he didn’t surprise him sometimes.

“You’re sweating. Why’d you start the fire?”

“Well, it was cold when I got in.”

“...And you kept it going because…?”

“It’s pretty.”

That gets him a soft, half-frustrated growl, and Dom at least tries to hide his smile by turning back to the fire. Well. Maybe ‘tries’ is a strong word.

“You could take off your hoodie.” Is what Mason settles on.

“Mm. Little blunt for you, isn’t it?” Even as he says it, he finds himself reaching up to pull the neck closer around his skin. The silence that follows that movement is telling, in and of itself.

There’s quiet again - one even the crackle of the fire can’t quite fill, one that swallows the edge of the amber light, blurs the line between shadow and empty at the edges. There’s dots being connected, but Dom’s not entirely sure which ones - not entirely sure he wants to know either.

He hasn’t...talked about it with anyone. Not really. Tina noticed when his pressed shirts and slacks got switched for hoodies and jeans some days. But he’s pretty sure she chalked it up to late nights and rushed mornings. And it’s not like he’d completely switched his wardrobe out.

Just...some days he dug out the old college hoodies and broken in jeans. And if those days happened to be the ones his skin felt too tight around him, the ones he couldn’t quite catch his breath right, well. No one had noticed. And he hadn’t mentioned it.

But Mason’s noticing now. And that should feel just as suffocating.

And he knows why it doesn’t.

He’s almost startled when Mason speaks again, low, careful in that way he has that makes Dom remember what it’s like to be seen, “Do you want me to go?”

He shakes his head immediately, almost before Mason’s even done asking. “It’s not…” he sighs softly, wrapping his arms around his leg to bring it to his chest again, “It’s not you.” Dom just catches, out of the corner of his eyes, the slope to Mason’s shoulders as he settles back into the couch again.

“Then what is it?”

“Again, little blunt for you.” But Dom’s smiling now, even as Mason pulls a face at him. But...well. He did ask. And it was a...a thing. Between them.

They didn’t ask. Until they did. And that space...the intent it took to cross it...he wouldn’t refuse Mason that.

“It’s...nice. Sometimes.” He pauses, turning the words over in his mouth. He hadn’t articulated this to himself in a long while, and definitely not in relation to everything that had happened, let alone out loud. “Not to be noticed. While you deal with your hurts.” And that’s exactly what it was.

Some small, fragile pain still curled up in the back of his mind, screaming and screaming and screaming around a bloodied throat that could only gasp even as he choked. Wanting to run and hide in the dark of that warehouse and not draw anymore attention than it already had in its frailty.

Learning to live with that frailty again.

He had overcome Murphy. It hadn’t been easy, and he still remembers grey eyes, piercing against a backdrop he can’t see anymore, even in his nightmares. But he had done it. And he’d come out the other side. Some days, that was enough.

And some days...it just wasn’t. It wasn’t anything to cry over - at least, not anymore - and the bad days were fewer and farther between. But Dom was having to relearn how to be comfortable and confident in his own head. And he was getting there, slowly but surely, he was getting there.

“...Think you’d try harder not to be noticed there, handsome. A hoodie hardly does it,” And it’s weak, compared to his normal fare, but it’s also warm in a way that curls around the chill in his chest that the fire hadn’t been able to, and Dom can’t help but smile. “Come on. Roasting in here is just going to make us both miserable.” And then he’s standing in front of Dom, holding out a hand.

And they didn’t do this. That chasm between them echoing blindly into the space Mason’s offering. They didn’t do this.

But they cracked and twisted and pretended they didn’t when they pretended they weren’t looking. So Dom takes his hand, lets himself be pulled up. Lets himself lean into Mason’s space without hesitation.

And Mason holds them there, his free hand coming up to brush lightly down Dom’s neck in a way that should be...should be sharp. Should be wanting.

He finds comfort there instead. An acknowledgement. And a secret held.

“Nate bought that tea you like.” Weird, considering he hadn’t told Nate any such thing. Not that he’d put it past Nate to figure it out - lord knows he’d been at Dom’s place - office and apartment - enough to have picked up a pattern or two. But for one secret kept, Dom’s willing to hold another.

So, he just hums, and let’s Mason tug him out of that too warm room.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #agent m #my writing #my detectives #dom traore #still figuring out mason but I like how this came out I think #long post #dominicxmason

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wordsablaze · 3 years

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Ch.12. Blinding Blue

Blue Buttercup Almost like buttercups, it took Jaskier a lot of time and trouble to bloom and find his place in the world, but it wasn’t all so golden… (aka: yennefer was his mother way before he was jaskier)

A/N: i’m a lil behind on crossposting but hey, i fixed the cliffhanger :) @dauntless-hufflepuff-pride @mayastormborn

previous chapter

“Who the hell are you?” Yennefer snarls, instantly on her feet.

Julian whimpers again, clinging to her as if his life depends on it, his arms looped around her neck like some sort of peculiar necklace.

(It’d be her favourite necklace, of course.)

“What, Marcio didn’t mention me?” the man asks with a smirk that, in any other situation, she might simply have killed him for.

“The other mage, of course,” Yennefer mutters, stepping back as he steps down from the ladder so she can half-turn and keep Julian as far away from him as possible.

The man smiles. “Marcio’s better partner, Tymon, at your service.”

Yennefer has a dozen things she could say about his service or lack thereof but she has priorities and the child curled around her is far more important than any kind of satisfaction found in insulting others.

(She’s fleetingly shocked by how quickly Julian has become her priority.)

“What have you done to him?” she asks, her voice steady but cold.

Tymon glances over Julian with a curious smile. “That depends on what he is.”

Yennefer’s eyes narrow. “I’m not here for riddles.”

With a casual hum, Tymon walks over to the desk, chuckling when he sees the mess of her having looked through everything. “You read the journals, didn’t you?”

She frowns, tightening her grip on Julian. “You’ve been toying with things beyond your control, I’m aware. How is that relevant right now?”

The answer is obvious to her even as the words leave her mouth and Tymon must see that on her face because he just laughs, waving a hand and promptly sealing the makeshift door to the room before settling in the chair smugly.

(She hates herself for not connecting the dots sooner.)

Julian hadn’t even needed to touch or eat anything for whatever Tymon has built into the walls to take effect. It’s clever, to bring people or creatures down into a hidden room and slowly weaken them until they can be experimented on, but it’s hurting someone important to her and Yennefer will not stand for it.

“Do you expect me to applaud?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I expect you to hand over the boy.”

Julian sobs into her neck at that and she shakes her head without hesitation, her lips twisting into a snarl as she glowers at Tymon. “Over my dead body.”

She’s not expecting the other mage to try and attack her but she’s ready nonetheless, one hand stretched out in front of her to form a shield before his chaos even reaches them, the spell bouncing off them harmlessly.

Tymon’s jaw clenches as he stands, lifting his hands once again. “He’ll be more useful in my work than he’ll ever be with you!”

(She doesn’t need him to be useful.)

Yennefer just scoffs, one of her hands curling around the back of Julian’s head and gently playing with his hair to distract him from hearing anything Tymon is saying. She steps back again, this time only to brace herself properly, and smiles.

“If you’re ready for death, it’ll be my pleasure to see you off.”

Tymon scowls at her and immediately throws himself into another spell. Having anticipated that, Yennefer throws back one of her own, purple and black colliding in the middle of the room in a burst of almost blinding sparks until they implode, Tymon being thrown backwards into the shelf behind him.

Julian’s hands clench into tiny fists around her hair and Yennefer winces when one of them pulls awkwardly but she doesn’t try to untangle herself, allowing him the comfort of knowing she’s still right beside him.

(Allowing herself the same comfort in return.)

The other mage doesn’t seem to be moving so Yennefer turns back to the trapdoor, knowing that Julian needs to get out if he’s going to survive. If his life wasn’t in danger, she might even have been impressed by the standard of the subtle cage around them.

“No!” Tymon yells from behind her.

She’s too focused on figuring out their exit to notice the objects that fly towards them in time to block them all. Several books, an inkpot, a paperweight, and an empty pitcher slip through her shield, most of them hitting her but something obviously catching Julian because he cries out, his grip on her hair loosening as he starts toppling.

(She’s loath to admit her heart misses a beat.)

Cursing loudly, Yennefer stumbles and uses both arms to catch him, twisting her body as she does and then steadying him against her, tucking him into her chest, both of them breathing heavily.

“You’re wasting your time, only I can open the door again,” Tymon gloats.

Yennefer’s jaw clenches as she turns back to him. “Maybe you haven’t heard of me, I’m Yennefer of Vengerberg and I am far more powerful than the likes of you.”

Adjusting her grip on Julian, she throws a hand out, her chaos hitting Tymon directly above his heart before he can blink. He screams, his knees buckling, and mutters something under his breath that she doesn’t catch.

Though it’s not that hard to figure out what he’s done because Julian screams seconds later, a horrible noise that Yennefer would rather she’d never have known.

(Now she knows why they say ignorance can be bliss.)

“You’re okay, I’ve got you, it’s fine,” she murmurs to a now quiet Julian before turning her attention back to the trapdoor. Unfortunately, Tymon, despite having choked on his own blood and slumped to the ground as a result of his own arrogance, was right: the seal does seem to be linked to his magic.

Yennefer quickly concludes that it’d be far easier to overcome his seal if she had both hands. Gritting her teeth, she keeps one arm firmly wrapped around Julian, who’s worryingly limp at this point, and places her other hand on the trapdoor above them.

And pushes.

The door doesn’t give but she wasn’t really expecting it to so she just pushes with her magic as well as her fingers, stubbornly pressing chaos into the stupid seal even as she feels her knees weakening and beads of sweat rolling down the sides of her face.

(She’d rather die than let Julian do the same.)

She keeps pushing and she’s not sure if she’s actually yelling or just imagining it but just as her vision starts to black out, the seal shatters and the door finally, finally gives, splintering upwards.

Yennefer pants, stumbling up the last few steps and all but collapsing onto the half-dusty rug, Julian lying still on her chest as he goes down with her. It takes her a long moment to even register his presence, her head still pounding and her eyes still ringing, but she pushes herself upright again as soon as she does.

“Julian? Julian, hey, open your eyes,” she whispers furiously, gently shaking his shoulders.

(She definitely doesn’t panic at the sight of his pale face.)

“Come on, little one, that’s it. Open your eyes for me,” she continues, managing a smile as his eyes scrunch up and he groans softly.

He coughs before he follows her instructions, his hands reaching upwards. “Yenny?”

Relief floods into her heart at the sound of his voice and she nods even though he can’t see it, allowing him to curl his fingers around her own. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

It takes several long moments for him to finally open his eyes and the first thing he does is frantically look around until his gaze settles on her, at which point he grins weakly but still widely enough for her to be sure he’s not dying.

(Never has she appreciated the colour blue so much.)

“Can we go home?” Julian asks her, climbing into her lap with tears shining in his eyes.

Yennefer frowns for a moment, and then frowns again when she realises that he’s referring to her cottage, that he considers home to be with her. She makes a mental note to worry more about that later and nods at him, exhaling softly as feeling finally returns to her exhausted limbs.

“That sounds like a good plan,” she agrees. Julian wraps his limbs around her again in response and without meaning to, she cradles him close, too tired to question how and why she’s become so strongly attached to this random child.

(She's not entirely opposed to be honest.)

sorry if it was lowkey anticlimactic, action is not my friend :p

thanks for reading !! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

#jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #hurt jaskier #protective yennefer #good parent yennefer #young jaskier #au #fluff and angst #fanfic #the witcher #my writing #bbu

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catlordewrites · 3 years

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The Waif ~ Chapter Three

As an alien science experiment, she remembers nothing. Knows no one. With nowhere else to turn, Claudia must rely on the Doctor and his companions for help. She's mutating. The Doctor knows more than he's telling. But why does the Time Lord seem to hate her so much? Rated M.

Masterlist - Fanfiction.net - Ao3

Prologue - Previous Chapter - This Chapter

Chapter Three: The Mimic - Part One

Claudia woke up slowly from within her blanket cocoon. Twenty four hours earlier, she wouldn’t have believed it were possible, but now she was so warm and sleepy that it took her a minute to realize what had woken her.

She jolted slightly when there was a knock at the door; three sharp raps, like Dinstral would on the glass of her small prison whenever he wanted her attention. The similarity made her heart drop. For a fraction of a second her still-dozy mind believed that the scientists had found her again.

She brushed the thought away, writing it off as ridiculous, and called out, “Yes?”

Decidedly the exact opposite of Dinstral, Rose tentatively pushed her way inside. She was already dressed, but still rather hazy, like she hadn’t been up long enough to be fully awake.

“Morning,” Rose greeted with a small smile. “I was gonna let you sleep, but the Doctor gets grumpy if we leave him on his own for too long. How do you feel about breakfast?”

Claudia’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food, but then clenched as her mind automatically went to the bland porridge that her diet had consisted of over the last few weeks. But she reckoned that normal people are more than slimy oatmeal.

She nodded, trusting that Rose had something better in mind.

“Great. Get dressed and I’ll show you the kitchen.”

Claudia fumbled out of bed and made for the closet. She opened the dark purple door and gawked at the sight. Beyond was a massive walk-in closet, complete with a vanity. The entire room, wall to wall, was completely packed with clothes.

There were dresses, jeans, coats, shorts, skirts, a series of undergarments, and more. There was even a smaller connecting room completely dedicated to a myriad of shoes - the purpose to many of them she couldn’t even begin to decipher.

If this was a personal closet, Claudia couldn’t imagine what the main wardrobe was like. Surely there were more articles of clothing in this one room than she could ever wear in her entire life.

“You alright?” Rose called from the squashy orange couch, where she had sprawled out to wait.

“Yeah,” Claudia squeaked. “But what do I wear?”

“Whatever you like.”

Claudia considered this. “But I don’t know what I like.”

Rose heaved a sigh. “Just look for somethin’ you think you like, and put it on.

Claudia blinked at Rose. Then at the closet. Overwhelmed, but eager, she plunged into the depths.

~0~0~0~ . . ~0~0~0~

When Claudia tumbled out of the closet twenty minutes later, she was the living manifestation of her maximalist bedroom - had its style been based on a three year old that insisted on dressing itself. After so long in a cold, colorless environment, she positively adored anything bright and soft, and felt the need to hoard it all like a magpie.

Her short excursion into her personal wardrobe had been filled with her digging through the racks and shelves in search of color. At which point her finds were then separated into piles to be sorted by which colors she liked best.

After a period of painful deliberation and significant indecision, she finally emerged wearing an avocado green jumper decorated with little red frogs under a chunky dandelion yellow cardigan, long rainbow socks over electric blue jeans, solid red trainers with sequins dotting across the toes, all topped off with a neon magenta beanie and matching gloves.

Beaming with excitement, Claudia hardly registered the raised eyebrow Rose directed at her choice of style.

“Blimey,” Rose snorted, struggling not to laugh outright in the face of the memory-less woman’s optimism. “That’s… uh… boisterous.”

Claudia wasn’t sure if this was a compliment or not, but chose to believe it was meant well. She grinned and tugged her hat down more securely on her head.

“Right, then. Come on.” Rose paused in front of Claudia’s bathroom mirror, taking a moment to smear away a bit of the eye liner caked around her eye that was a smidge uneven.

Claudia made a mental note to ask Rose how makeup worked as she followed her through the maze of corridors that led to the kitchen.

The kitchen was large but homey. It contained the usual variety of items to cook with as well as a number of things that Claudia didn’t recognize.

“How do you not get lost?” Claudia inquired as Rose made her way to a machine that appeared to be some sort of drink dispenser.

“You get used to it, I guess. She moves rooms around a lot, so you just sort of guess. Coffee or tea?”

Claudia blanked. “Can you… pick for me?”

Rose nodded and placed a mug beneath the dispenser. With the press of a few buttons, hot liquid was streaming into the mug. Claudia watched, transfixed, as the steam rolled off of it, curling into pretty shapes that swirled and danced like living creatures before dissolving into the air.

Rose settled down with two mugs and two plates of bacon and eggs. Claudia took a sip of her coffee, but grimaced at the taste.

Rose grinned and indicated the dispenser. “Go add milk and sugar.”

Claudia hopped to her feet and pondered the machine. It looked complicated, but she found it to actually be fairly straightforward. Curious about her own preferences, Claudia spent more time toying with it than necessary, adding milk and sugar in miniscule amounts until enjoyable.

Sipping at the now lukewarm liquid, she made her way back to the table. Her mouth watered at the collective smell of the bacon, eggs, and coffee. She picked up a fork and, with a certain amount of trepidation, scooped egg into her mouth.

Rose watched bemusedly as Claudia wolfed down the large plate of food at an alarming speed.

“Blimey, you were hungry, weren’t ya?” The blonde commented as she took another sip from her own mug, which was filled with tea, quirking her eyebrows at the other woman over the rim of the mug.

Claudia just shrugged, unable to respond around her bacon and egg stuffed mouth. When it was gone, she glanced longingly at the food-dispenser machine. Not that she was still hungry - she was stuffed - but because she wanted to see what other things tasted like.

“You can mess about with that later,” Rose promised. “ The Doctor will be wondering where we got to. I’m surprised he hasn’t come looking for us yet.”

~0~0~0~ . . ~0~0~0~

The Doctor was standing at the console when they arrived, staring at the monitor with a serious expression. From over Rose’s shoulder, Claudia made out what appeared to be a black and white video, fuzzy, vague, and lacking any artistic quality. She thought that it might have been from a security camera, but the Doctor abruptly switched it off before she could get a proper look.

“What’re you watching?” Rose inquired, bounding over and leaning against the console beside him, close enough for their shoulders to brush.

“Nothing,” he said quickly. He yanked down a lever with a certain degree of flair, his previous severity melting like butter. “So, Rose Tyler, where to now? I was thinking maybe the moon of Tyink. Lots of lovely views. Oh! Or the United Republic of Snah. Those people there love a party. The Sun Festivals are the best across three galaxies. Mind you, better not go during the Snee era, never mind why…. or…”

Rose cast Claudia a glance. “Actually, Doctor, shouldn’t we be looking into that science ship from yesterday?”

“We took care of the science vessel,” the Doctor griped, keeping his eyes fixed on the switches he was fiddling with.

“Yeah, but what about Claudia? Shouldn’t we be trying to figure out what happened with her memory?”

Claudia felt a rush of gratitude and looked to the Doctor expectantly.

“The blood sample didn’t reveal anything I didn’t already know,” the Doctor explained, as if doing so inconvenienced him greatly. “A buildup of mutagenic particles mixed with alien DNA. It’ll dissipate eventually. Give it a year or two and all the residual components should be completely gone.”

“What about my memories?” Claudia asked, quiet and hopeful.

“I don’t know,” the Doctor said in a flat voice, his emotions carefully concealed behind a mask. “I went back to Cardiff when you were sleeping. The Thalians dropped their test subjects all across the city, probably as some form of stimulus experiment to see how you would respond to stressful situations. That’s all.”

“What happened then?” Her heart was hammering in her chest. Her fingernails dug painfully into her palms. She barely noticed when Rose wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“You said that one of the test subjects displayed unchecked aggression,” he added, not bothering to look at her. “I’m willing to bet that it was a cascade neural degradation response to the treatments. Most likely you experienced something similar, but it manifested differently.” He paused. “Bit lucky, actually.”

Claudia pondered this for a moment. She certainly didn’t feel lucky. Words failed her. All she could do was stare at him, emptiness welling up inside her, reclaiming it’s hold on her soul.

“Can’t we figure out where she came from?” Rose pressed, fixing the Doctor with a reproachful glare.

“No real way to find out,” he sniffed. “Doubtful she’s from anywhere near Cardiff. Have you noticed her accent? Indistinct. Thalians are capable of traveling the vortex, so without her memories, there’s no way to narrow it down.”

“But there’s got to be something,” Rose hissed, casting Claudia a sideways glance. “Are you not even going to try?”

Claudia said nothing. She stood silently, staring at her glittery shoes without really seeing them. They'd made her feel so happy before, but now she felt nothing when the boisterous sparkles blurred as her eyes welled with tears. She wrapped her arms around herself in an imitation of a hug. She tried not to cry, she really did. But a single tear rolled down her cheek unbidden.

When she finally spoke, she did so quietly that her words could barely be heard over the hum of the engines. “What do I do now?”

“Nothing, I suppose. That’s all there is to it.” The Doctor shrugged, going back to the console.

“Doctor!”

“Rose, leave it,” the Doctor snapped, his voice low and laden with warning. A hidden meaning lingered in his dark eyes, one that Claudia couldn’t begin to decipher but Rose took to heart.

Rose blinked at him for a moment, but immediately dropped it, brimming with eager curiosity.

“So, where to?” The Doctor repeated his earlier question, dropping the severity and attempting to take back on a cheerful facade. It almost worked. “Snah?”

“Actually, I was thinking about stopping by home,” Rose suggested, voice still tense from the previous exchange.

“What for?” The Doctor scoffed, lip curling into a scowl.

“Oi! Don’t start!” The corners of her mouth gave the slightest twitch, like it was an old joke. “I’ve got that Moeysian necklace for my mum, the one we got on Iria? I promised her a souvenir and I need to get it to her before I forget.”

The Doctor sighed wearily but began the sequence. Claudia remembered to grab onto the railing as the ship began to jolt violently, but didn’t really feel it. She was busy biting down her despair into bitter acceptance.

When the TARDIS landed, she had steeled herself. Her emotions were locked down tight in a steel box. It left her feeling numb and grey, but it was better than the alternative.

“There. Earth. Powell Estate. 2007.” The Doctor looked up from the controls. “A couple months after we left.”

“Alright. You go on out. Just give me two ticks.” Rose hurried back into the corridor, presumably to retrieve the gift for her mother, leaving Claudia alone with the Doctor.

The Doctor sighed, shrugging on his light brown trench coat as he approached the doors leading to the outside world.

“Where’s the Powell Estate?” Claudia asked shyly, wiping her eyes on her sleeve as she followed him out into a grey parking lot.

She surveyed the surrounding buildings curiously. And to be fair, everywhere was interesting after spending the majority of your conscious life locked in a glass case.

The sun was out, it’s position suggesting that it was mid to late afternoon. The warm air and thick greenery on the nearby trees and shrubs she could spot through the gaps in the buildings told her it was spring.

She took a deep breath, reveling in the earthy scent.

“London,” The Doctor responded, leaving the door open for Rose and leaning against the side of the blue box. He cast her a glance and tugged at his ear awkwardly. “Do you… uh… know where that is?”

Claudia shook her head. The name meant as much to her as the other places they’d mentioned. Iria and Moeysian and Snah. She leaned beside him, careful to leave a few inches of space between them.

The Doctor’s frown intensified. He studied her closely for a heartbeat before turning away once more, as if looking at her caused him physical pain.

She couldn’t imagine why. Claudia looked down at her outfit. Maybe boisterous hadn’t been a compliment after all.

Suddenly self-conscious, she took off her gloves and stuffed them into her cardigan pocket.

“2007?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Rose said that your box travels in time.”

“Yep.”

“When am I from?”

The Doctor sighed through his nose. “The ship you were on was in October of 2007. Just a few months after where we are now. But like I said, the Thalians are capable of time travel, so you could be from anywhere.”

Claudia nodded, pushing back thoughts having to do with her past. “The scientists were Thalians?”

The Doctor nodded, staring resolutely at the graffiti sketched on the wall across the lot.

“And they’re aliens?”

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’.

“And I’m human?”

The Doctor let out a breath that hissed through his teeth. “Yes.”

“Like Rose?”

“Like most everyone on Earth.”

“What about you?” The question had been nagging at the back of her mind, but she hadn’t gotten around to asking Rose yet. “Are you human or Thalian or…?”

“Time Lord,” he grunted. “Last of the Time Lords.”

“Last?” The Doctor tensed. Claudia noticed and decided not to ask about it anymore. “I’m sorry.”

“What is taking her so long?” He grumbled, mostly to himself, before leaning inside the door and calling, “Hurry up, will you?”

“Alright! No need to shout,” Rose’s voice drifted out, her clanging footsteps audible from outside the TARDIS as she stomped across the console room. When she emerged she didn’t hesitate to lead the way across the lot towards one of the buildings.

They had nearly reached it when a dark skinned man dressed in blue coveralls came sprinting around the corner, panting like he’d run a fair distance.

“Look out, here comes trouble,” The Doctor grumbled, only half-playful.

“Rose!” The man shouted, a massive grin spreading across his face when he laid eyes on the blonde.

Rose beamed back and he hurried to throw his arms around her shoulders to pull her into a bear hug. “Oh, I’ve missed you!”

The man released Rose and clapped the Doctor heartily on the shoulder. “I was in the shop but couldn’t get away.” He shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. “I was worried I’d miss you.”

“Time was, you’d hear the TARDIS and come running,” Rose teased, eyes narrowing impishly.

“Well I did, didn’t I?” He protested, gesturing to his work clothes. “I was under a car. It took a minute.” His eyes drifted between the pair for a moment before they rested on Claudia, who had stayed back. He smiled warmly at her. “Don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Mickey, by the way.”

“Claudia.” Claudia shook his proffered hand with a small smile. He seemed nice, if not a bit dopey.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, nudging Claudia away from Mickey with his shoulder. “Come on then, go and see your mum. I don’t want to stay here all day.”

“Good luck with that, mate,” Mickey chuckled. “Jackie’s not about to let Rose be anywhere else. Not today, at least.”

“Why? What’s today?” The Doctor narrowed his eyes, trying to work out what he’d missed.

Mickey rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I don’t know, maybe Rose’s birthday.”

“It’s the 27th?” Rose echoed, her wide eyes blinking in surprise.

“Yeah” Mickey confirmed. “Your mum’s been worried that you wouldn’t turn up, especially since you missed your last one.”

“How old are you?” Claudia inquired, shuffling back from around the Doctor so she could be included in the conversation.

Rose frowned thoughtfully. “It’ll be my twentieth, I guess.” She shook her head to clear it. “Time’s funny on the TARDIS. I don’t really know if I’m older than twenty, or still younger.”

“Younger, technically,” the Doctor offered. “We missed a year, remember?”

“Yeah.” Rose frowned. “Does that make me nineteen, then?”

“Does it matter?” The Doctor complained. “You don’t exactly live linearly. Technically, it isn’t your birthday at all. Not to you, anyway.”

“But it is to her.” Mickey crooked his thumb in the direction of Jackie’s flat. “She’s been looking forward to it. She’s got presents and everything.”

“Fine,” the Doctor relented, albeit begrudgingly, as if he were giving in to give the humans a treat. But looking at Rose’s determination and Mickey’s smug grin, Claudia could tell that the alien didn’t actually have much choice. “But just until tomorrow, you got that?”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Mickey smirked cheesily.

Together, the small group, headed by Rose and Mickey, who had launched into a deep conversation about what Rose had missed while she’d been traveling, made its way towards one of the buildings.

Naturally, Claudia brought up the rear, lingering a couple yards behind the Doctor. Her first instinct was to walk side by side with him, as the small party was even numbered, but the Doctor had shoved his hands into his coat pockets and prowled stoically after the others with long strides that kept an intentional distance between himself and Claudia.

Instead of struggling to keep up, she resigned to his apparent distaste towards her and focused instead on placing one foot in front of the other, wiggling her toes within her comfortable new shoes and appreciating the barely audible clacks they made on the asphalt.

Claudia's attention was diverted, however, when an uncomfortable tingling sensation itched its way up her spine. Her eyes darted away from her feet as she reevaluated her surroundings in a manner resembling a nervous cat.

Outwardly, there was no significant change in the environment. Rose, Mickey, and the Doctor passed through the glass door without a hitch, though the resulting screech of the rusted hinges made Claudia flinch.

The sensation somewhat passed as she herself entered the building, but through the glass pane she caught a glimpse of a man staring at her from across the lot.

He was tall, that much was apparent. Almost too tall, in Claudia’s opinion. From what she could make out at a distance, he was bald. His face appeared to be almost comically wide and dimensionless, contrasting starkly with the long brown cloak that shrouded his entire form, covering everything from chin to feet.

There was something odd about him, but she didn’t much care to find out what. In a series of small, rapid movements, Claudia closed the distance between herself and the group and flatly ignored the mildly irritated glance the Doctor gave her when she accidentally stepped on the back of his shoe on the way up the stairs.

When they got to the correct door, Rose let herself in without the slightest hesitation. “Mum?”

“Rose!” Rose’s mother, Jackie, a rotund woman with blonde hair similar to her daughter’s, poked her head out from a bedroom just off the side of the short hall. She beamed at the younger woman and immediately drew her into a hug. “Oh, I was just wondering when you’d turn up.”

She released her from the hug and held her at arm's length.

“Four months,” she accused. “It’s been four months. You said ten bloody seconds. Not that I actually believed that, but four bleeding months.”

“I didn’t lie,” Rose scoffed, taken slightly aback by the confrontation. “It’s a time machine, we could’ve been back in ten seconds.”

“But you weren’t,” the older woman snipped back. “Instead you leave me sitting here… on my own... for months at a time. When it comes to that long, I start wondering if you’re going to come back at all.”

Despite Jackie’s snide tone, the real emotions behind it were plain. She was lonely and worried for her daughter’s safety; terrified that one day Rose wouldn’t come back, and she’d be left with nothing.

Claudia felt a flicker of jealousy and longing, trying to imagine what it would be like to have someone worrying over her that way. For all she knew, there was. Someone could be waiting for her to come home.

But that almost made her feel worse.

“What’re you all still doing crowding my doorway?” Jackie scolded, redirecting her energy into something a little more friendly. “In or out. Hold on…” Claudia blushed slightly upon realizing that she was now at the center of the group’s attention. Jackie’s eyes were lighter than her daughter’s, more hazel than brown. In them was a maternal glint, coupled with an appraising air. “Who’re you, then?”

“That’s Claudia,” Rose answered for her. “She’s staying on the TARDIS for a bit.”

A bit? Claudia wondered. Where else would I go?

She shuddered at the thought and returned her attention to Jackie, who had wheeled around to confront the Doctor.

“Oh, snatched up another one, have you?” Jackie accused, hands on her hips. “Just like a man. One’s not enough, is it? You’ve just got to surround yourself with pretty young women. You might as well collect them.”

“Nice to see you, too, Jackie,” The Doctor snipped sarcastically as he moved around her to get into the sitting room.

The Tyler residence was homey, if not on the small side. There were a few magazines laid to the side on the coffee table, full of celebrities and pop culture pieces. Claudia took a place on the edge of the couch and picked up one of the magazines, flipping through to see if anything seemed familiar.

Rose found a seat at the small dining table while Jackie immediately began bustling about making tea. The older woman didn’t stop talking for a moment, even while juggling multiple tea cups. Claudia immediately jumped back up to her feet and hopped into the kitchen to take a couple of the cups before Jackie could drop them.

“Anything I can do to help?” Claudia offered with a simple, kind smile.

Jackie nodded and directed Claudia in pouring milk and distributing sugar while the Doctor plucked out one of the newspapers on the dinner table and flipped through it idly, opting to stay standing.

Mickey naturally flopped down next to Rose. The young man produced the remote and switched on the tv, settling on a sports channel.

“... your birthday, though, Rose,” Jackie was bickering in her shrill voice. “I’ve got the shopping done an’ everything…”

“Really, mum. You shouldn’t have bothered…”

“I’ve got the cake in the fridge and the rest of the dinner’s ‘bout halfway finished…”

“Mum…”

“Now, I haven’t got any guests together yet. Not that I could, though, could I? What, with your track record… “

“Mum, we don’t need guests… “

“... it was lucky you turned up in the right decade. We could call Shareen, I suppose.” Jackie grimaced. “On second thought, best not. Doubt she’d come, anyhow.”

“Why not?” Rose inquired, blinking in mild alarm. “She’s my best mate.”

“Was, last I heard,” Jackie corrected, looking the slightest bit smug. “She got married, and you were nowhere to be found.”

“Married?” Rose echoed, voice hoarse with shock. “But… she can’t have.”

“Two months ago.”

“But she’s only…”

“Twenty.” The older woman fixed her daughter with a slightly disapproving glance. “She came around looking for you six months back. Wanted you as a bridesmaid. I told her that you were still off travelling but she wasn’t having it. ‘If she doesn’t want to be part of it, so be it’, she said...”

Rose stood blankly while her mother rattled on, flippantly dictating the destruction of the younger girl’s friendship. Claudia tried to keep her attention on an article about makeup, but she couldn’t help but see how Rose’s bottom lip trembled as she drew in a quivering breath.

It was a piteous sight, so much that Claudia was glad when the Doctor, who was oblivious to his blonde friend’s distress, interrupted.

“What’s this about, then?” He inquired, holding up the newspaper he’d been looking through so it displayed an article about halfway through the paper.

The header read; Third Disappearance on the Powell Estate.

“Oh, that?” Jackie shrugged. “Yeah, word has it that a few people have gone missing. Police have no idea.”

“They’ve already passed by my place twice to ask questions,” Mickey complained. “A few drunk blokes go missing, and who do they turn to? The black guy.”

“Oh, come on Mickey,” Jackie scoffed. “They’re just on you because…”

“Because of all the times they questioned me back when Rose was missing,” Mickey said bitterly. “I almost lost my job, you know.”

The Doctor coughed to break the tense silence that followed. Claudia, who had been fidgeting nervously in the background, couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh of relief when the Doctor decisively threw the newspaper down on the coffee table.

“Well, while we’re here…”

“Oh, no you don’t!” Jackie cut him off, waving a warning finger under his nose. “Don’t you dare go swannin’ off! It’s Rose’s birthday and I’m not having you start all that ridiculous nonsense before we’ve even had time to cut the cake!”

“I don’t swan,” the Doctor retorted.

Before Jackie could respond, Rose stepped between the pair.

“Don’t start!” She glanced at the Doctor and shot him a tiny grin that she thought her mother couldn’t see, her previous melancholy evaporating like mist. She turned back to Jackie. “Dinner’s not ready yet.”

“Rose,” Jackie pleaded, crossing her arms across her chest.

“You and Mickey finish getting everything ready, and by the time you’re done, we’ll be back and we’ll all have a proper sit down. Alright?”

“Why can’t I come help investigate?” Mickey complained. “I helped before with the Slitheen, remember?”

“Well...” the Doctor drawled. “Pressing a few buttons hardly makes you qualified for— ”

“What he means to say is,” Rose interrupted, fixing Mickey with her cute little tongue-in-teeth grin, “it’s probably nothing, anyway. We’ll go poke around a bit and be back before you know it, alright? I’m sure mum could use all the help she can get.”

Mickey gave a disbelieving scoff, but backed down, flopping back onto his place on the couch.

Rose wheeled back around to beam at the Doctor. “Shall we?”

The Doctor grinned back and offered her his hand to take. “Now then, Rose Tyler…”

He broke off suddenly, blood draining from his face when his eyes rested on Claudia, who had instinctively started to move to follow them. In the emotional turmoil of the past ten minutes or so, everyone - including Claudia - had forgotten she was there.

The Doctor’s eyes darted away, fixating on a framed picture of a little blonde girl as he dropped Rose’s hand in favor of rubbing his ear lobe between his forefinger and thumb. “Claudia, why don’t you, just… stay here for a bit. Help Jackie and Mickey.”

Claudia nodded and picked up another magazine, thumbing through and pretending to examine a page to hide any emotion that might have shown on her face.

The young woman rolled the corner of a page between her fingers until it curled in on itself, feeling sheepish at her somewhat needy urge to follow them about like a lost dog.

“Well, that’s them, then,” Jackie sighed when they’d gone, leaning back against the wall. Her face had lost some of its color, “First time I’ve seen her in months and she runs off again first thing.”

“Tell me about it,” Mickey grumbled. “But that’s us, I guess.”

“That’s us,” Jackie agreed ruefully before turning her attention to Claudia. She studied the younger woman for a moment, her gaze warmer than before. “What’s your story, then?”

“My story?” Claudia echoed. “I’ve only known them for a day.”

“Yeah, but how did you end up wound up in this? The Doctor, I mean,” Mickey clarified. “I got kidnapped by a vat of living plastic.”

“And my daughter ran off with an alien,” Jackie added sourly.

Claudia blinked at them, trying to mentally work out the presented scenarios. Mickey slapped her shoulder good-naturedly.

“Come on, then. You’re part of the club now.”

“Club? What club?”

“The ‘I-Survivied-the-Doctor Club.’” A cheeky grin ate its way across his face. “We should get shirts.”

Jackie snorted and went into the kitchen. “Ah, but first, you two shift. We’ve got work to do. Come help me with roast and tell us about yourself.”

#doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #tenth doctor x oc #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor x oc #10th doctor x reader #fanfiction #doctorwho #dw #nuwho #oc #doctor who oc #thewaif

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themaninflannel · 4 years

Text

Orgasms and Cold Pizza (snapshots pt1)

summary: reader met dean senior year of hs Bc she looked out for Sam. She kept in touch with both of them (but more Sam). When Sam goes off to college a sad dean shows up on her doorstep with no warning.

word count: almost 4k wtf

warnings: sad dean, drinking, virgin!reader, smut

A/N: this is part one of a new series im starting that is gonna be snapshots of the reader and deans lives together ~~~~~~~~~~ It may have been two am but I had yet to put down my book, so I was awake when I heard knocking at my front door. I wasn’t going to open it-because hello it was two am- but the knocking kept going so I was just going to tell them off. I opened the door to see a familiar face, and a sad one at that. I blearily rubbed my sleep filled eyes, “Dean?” I’m sure he could hear the confusion in my voice.

“Sammy left,” He said dejectedly.

Without thinking I reached out for him and pulled him into my arms half expecting him to resist but instead he collapsed on to my shoulders. Releasing him, I nudged the door open a little more and pulled him farther inside. Quietly I led him into the kitchen and handed him a beer.

“He left us, he left the life,” Dean mumbled.

“Yeah, umm he told me a while ago that he got into Stanford. I kinda figured he might,” I guiltily ran my hands through my hair.

“He did? He sure as hell didn’t tell dad and me,” he stood up, running his hands over his face.

My legs, working on their own, carried me across the room until I was right in front of him, “Dean. You know he didn’t leave because he wanted to leave you, right?” I said putting my hand on his arm.

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah,”

“Hey, I mean it,” My voice was soft but firm. “You’ve always looked out for your brother, he knows that.” I was met with sullen silence.

After a few minutes of quietly sipping on our drinks he spoke up. “I mean I know this life ain’t easy but college, man!?”

“You know the boy’s always liked school,” I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. It did not work. “Alright. Are we getting drunk then?”

“Yep,” he said after downing the rest of his beer, “you got anything stronger?”

“Oh do you doubt me, Winchester?” I got up and opened the pantry to show the assortment of liquor bottles.

“Well then,” he raised his eyebrows as I dropped a bottle of whiskey in front of him, keeping the vodka for myself.

Once Dean had made it most of the way through his bottle he seemed more nostalgic than sad, “Do you remember back in high school…” he paused to take another drink, “when you thought Sammy needed to be taken care of?”

“Hey! In my defense he was very small then! And he did get picked on,”

“Ok, fair enough” he raised his hands in defense, “I’m glad you had his back,”

“Yeah well, someone had too since you kept getting in trouble,” It continued on like this for a while until I had deemed it time to cut Dean off and make him go to bed. “Alright come on, I’ll get you settled in my room,”

Just as I was leaving the room I heard a voice behind me, “do you think he’s gonna come back?”

“Honestly? I don’t know, but I know that just because he went off to school doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you,” I said turning back towards him and sitting on the bed.

“Psh. I know dads not the biggest joy in our lives but why can’t he just suck it up?” My heart broke when his voice cracked. Even in the dark I could tell he was tears eyed.

“He and your dad have always had a tricky relationship,” I commented, scooting closer to him.

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “you should have seen it the night he left,” I could see on his face that it had gotten bad between them that night.

“I never liked your father,”

“He didn’t like you much either,” he admitted.

“Well, I’d imagine not!” It got quiet as we both remembered the first time I had met John Winchester.

Sam had invited me over to study for a history exam, even though I was a senior and he was a freshman we were in the same class. He was slightly embarrassed to tell me that he lived in a motel but that quickly faded once we got to studying. We were almost done when his brother came back.

“Heya Sammy,”

“Dean! I thought you were supposed to be gone all day?”

“Eh, got bored,” he dismissed. Flopping down on one of the beds, opening up a magazine. “Dads gonna be pissed you brought her over,”

“What is your problem with me Dean?” I spoke up, I wasn’t gonna let Sam get pushed around like that.

“I don’t care either way, but dad doesn’t like us having people over,” As if on queue an older man opened the door.

“Boys,” He gruffly acknowledged the boys, not noticing me at first, “who’s this?” He gestured to me, his voice making it clear that there was more involved in his question.

“Oh, umm,” Sam stuttered.

“I’m Y/N, I was helping Sam study but we were just finishing up,” I jumped in trying to help the poor boy out.

“Well Y/N, it’s probably about time you were heading out. I have some business to discuss with my boys.”

In class the next day Sam barely looked at me, and Dean-well Dean never paid me much attention anyway. After the bell rang I ran after Sam before Dean could drive off.

“Sam! Wait up dude,” he ignored me until I was close enough to grab his elbow, “Hey, what’s wrong? It’s like you were somewhere else today,”

“Oh, uh, hey Y/N,” he was clearly avoiding the question. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dean walk up to the car, seemingly hiding his face.

“Come on Sammy, get in the car,” As he got in the car I caught a glimpse of a purple bruise on his jaw.

“Um sorry, we have to get home before Dad” Sam explained shyly. As they drove away I connected the dots between Dean’s bruise and their fear of their father. Right then and there I decided I was going to protect Sam as much as I could, I doubted Dean would let me but I knew I was gonna try.

“You should probably get some sleep,” Dean’s voice was hoarse, and much closer than I had realized. At some point we had ended up leaning on each other, slumped in the center of the bed.

“Alright, but I’m not leaving you here to be sad and alone so don’t hog all the covers,” I sleepily shuffled under the blanket, Dean sliding in beside me. He fell asleep almost immediately, but me? I was laying there trying to wrap my brain around this version of Dean, the version thats cocky and tough I’m familiar with but this vulnerable and insecure Dean is a side I hadn’t seen before. Somewhere in the night we had ended up wrapped in each other's limbs, his head on my chest, his arms circling my waist.

Dean was still asleep when I woke up; I laid there with my hand in his hair, realizing that this was as relaxed as I had been in a long while and I was in no rush to wake him up. We stayed like that until Dean started to stir,

“Morning sleepyhead,”

“Oh uh, mornin’,” he mumbled, rolling away seemingly embarrassed.

“How ya feeling after last night? You downed most of that whiskey,” I teased, poking his shoulder.

“Ha-shut up, I’m fine”

“Well, personally I am severely under-caffeinated so I’m gonna go make coffee,” I said definitively, pushing myself up heading to the kitchen. Dean got up and followed me, pointedly ignoring how we woke up.

“You wanna coffee?” I asked, reaching up to the cabinet where my favorite mug was.

“Yes, please,” he said emphatically, running his hands over his face to wake himself up a little.

“Ok, you gotta tell me more about what you and your brother do,” I slid a mug across the island to him, “I mean he told me a little bit about the life, and you’ve filled me in a little, but I’m curious,”

“Nah, you don’t need to know how fucked up the world actually is,”

“Please. I already know the world is a flaming piece of garbage, you wouldn’t be bursting any bubbles with that realization,” My voice came out more cynical than I meant.

“You really wanna know? About all the things that go bump in the night? All the monsters who are dying to eat your face?”

“Yeah. If I’m gonna have to live in the world with all that crap then I’d like to at least know what’s what,” I didn’t expect him to actually tell me, but he launched into stories about the creatures that he and Sammy have fought. We talked for hours, me asking questions, him telling stories. By the time he seemed to have run out of stories and he deemed I was sufficiently afraid it was early afternoon.

“Shit, is it already three? I should get on the road soon,”

“Do you have to? You can stay here another night, ya know,” I hoped he would stay.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna over stay my welcome, I already showed up out of the blue-“

“Dean. You’re staying.” I interrupted, “you can show up any time, I like the company,”

After convincing him to stay we ordered pizza and settled in for a chill night of movies and beer.

After we stuffed ourselves with pizza and watched as many shitty comedies as we could handle, we were tipsy and sleepy and I made the executive decision that it was time for us (well, at least me) to crash for the night. After telling Dean he could watch whatever he wanted I headed into my room, put on comfy clothes and got curled up under the covers. A while after, when I was just starting to drift off I heard the door open,

“Hey, Y/N? You still awake?”

“Hmm? Yeah,” my voice was thick with sleep.

“Can I- um can I sleep in here again?” He sounded so timid, not at all like the over confident persona he normally put on.

“Of course, come ‘ere,” I smiled, pulling the blankets down on the other side of the bed. He took his jeans off leaving him only in his boxers and climbed in next to me.

“You sure this is ok?” He asked again before fully relaxing.

“Dude, if I wasn’t chill with it I wouldn’t have said yes. Plus, you slept in here last night anyway,”

“I know, and we ended up the way we did this morning and I just- I wasn’t sure-“ I cut him off by pulling his arm over my side and shushing him. With him as the big spoon I think he had gotten it through his head that I wanted him there.

“Hey dean?” He grunted in acknowledgment, “You show up here after almost four years, I just- I gotta ask, why here? Why did you come to my door?” He was silent for a long time, I thought he may have fallen asleep.

“Honestly?” I nodded, “I don’t know, you were one of the few people who knew Sammy like I did, and who knew about our lives,” he paused, “I think it just seemed the least complicated place to go.” He finished quietly.

“Fair enough, I’m glad you did though. I worry about you boys,” we fell back into a comfortable silence before he spoke again.

“Ok, my turn to ask something,” I twisted until I was facing him.

“Go for it,”

“Why is it just you living here? Doesn’t it get lonely?”

“Sometimes, but I like having the place to myself,”

“I always liked to think that after Sammy I left, you would have shacked up with some dude and lived the apple pie life,”

“Oh please. You know that’s not my style,” I scoffed, “and as far as me and dudes there’s never been anyone of importance,”

“Really? No one?” He seemed surprised by this.

“What? Is it so hard to believe?”

“But why?”

“You’ve met me, you know feeeelings aren’t my thing,”

“Ok but like what about hookup or something, you did go to college right? Isn’t that part of college life?”

“I don’t like doing new things with strangers, it is what it is. I’m not upset about it,” I shrugged.

“Just wouldn’t have pegged you as a virgin,”

“Oh I give off slutty vibes do I?” I teased him.

“No- I just- never mind,” I could practically see him mentally smacking himself in the forehead.

“Good night, Dean,” I rolled back over and he wrapped his arm back around my waist.

The next morning I woke up with Dean still pressed against my back, I don’t know if we moved at all in the night. I just knew that I slept like a rock. And that there was something poking me in the back. It took me a minute to figure out what it was but when it dawned on me I couldn’t help but giggle a little bit.

“Hey, ummm, Dean?” It came out higher than I meant it to.

“Hmm?” He sleepily responded, “oh shit, Y/N I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- it just-it does that sometimes,” He moved away from me covering his face with his hands.

“I didn’t say I was upset about it,” I slowly pulled his hand down until he could see me.

“What…. Y/N..? Huh?” You’d think he was the virgin not me.

“I said, I wasn’t upset. I just thought you should know that your dick-“

“Whoa! Ok, enough,” he cut me off. Turning his body to face me, our faces closer together than before, “are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” My voice came out thin and whispery, but I leaned towards him anyway. I could almost hear my heartbeat in my ears, but the second that his lips touched mine that was the only thing I could focus on. After a second he pulled back with a questioning look in his eyes, I nodded and he kissed me again. Harder this time, his tongue finding its way into my mouth, my hand to his hair, his hands...everywhere. We stayed like that for a few minutes before he pulled away again, this time taking his whole body a few inches away from mine pulling a needy whine (that I will deny ever happened) out of me.

“Wait...wait, we can’t do this,” he said breathlessly.

“And why the hell not?”

“You’ve never…your first shouldn’t be me,”

“Why not. You’re not a stranger and there doesn’t need to be feelings. Checks all my boxes,”

“Oh wow, you sure know how to make a guy feel special,” I rolled my eyes and pulled him so his face was close to mine again.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I want this. You’re not taking advantage or anything like that, ok?” That was all he needed to hear before pushing himself so he was hovering over me, mouth back on mine, hands in my hair. Soon his mouth moved along my jaw and down my neck making sounds come out of my mouth that I didn’t think I could make. I could feel him smirking as he moved back up to my jaw. I could feel his hands start to migrate under my shirt, stopping just below my rib cage. I knew he was waiting for permission before going any farther so I pushed him onto his back before tearing my shirt off and leaning over him so I was on top.

“No bra?” He questioned his hand automatically going to my boobs, flicking one of my nipples.

“Who sleeps in a bra?” I tried to say it jokingly but his mouth found my other nipple making it turn into a gasp. I tried to get back at him by grinding my hips down on the bulge that was now under me. He made a delicious gasp/moan sound that just made me never want to stop. I slowly shifted myself, kissing my way down his chest, giving attention to each nipple as I passed it, eventually making my way down to his happy trail and the edge of his boxers.

“Ahh…..sweetheart… you don’t-you don’t have to do that. Not... for your first time,”

“Oh, but what if I want to?” The words came out sugary sweet, just the thought of what was about to happen was enough to dampen my underwear. I looked up at him for permission and he nodded, his eyes closing when I turned my attention back to the waistband of his boxers. He moaned loudly when I placed soft kisses on his fabric covered length before I pulled his shorts down and he kicked them the rest of the way off. Once he was fully exposed I took a second to admire what I saw; the toned muscle of his chest, the soft skin on his stomach, all the way down to his perfectly pink cock standing up out of a bush of dark curls.

“Like what you see?” He teased.

As an answer I leaned back down and licked a stripe from his balls all the way up to his leaking head. I earned a gasp and then a groan when I took the whole head into my mouth hollowing my cheeks and taking in as much of him as I could, one hand coming up to pump the part that I couldn’t fit in my mouth and the other reaching up and playing with his balls.

“Holy….you shouldn’t be..how do you….” He gave up trying to make coherent sentences when I took his dick out of my mouth and sucked one of his balls. Once I had given them enough attention I moved back to his shaft, lavishing it in kisses and licks.

“Ok...I’m not gonna…. you gotta stop… if you want this to last…” he brought his hand to my face and pulled me back up so he could kiss me. His other hand came around my hip and flipped us so he was hovering above me with a shiteating grin on his face. It was his turn to tease me, he moved down so his face was right above my belly button. His fingers hooked into the waistband of my sleep shorts pulling them off. As soon as he had me naked he went back to kissing and licking everywhere he could, after some pleading from me he finally moved back between my legs where I needed him most. He licked a stripe between my folds, giving extra attention to my clit. I could feel the knot in my stomach tightening already, my breathing getting faster. He was still swirling his tongue in circles when one of his large fingers pushed into me making me moan and arch my back, pushing impossibly closer to his face. I could feel him smiling as he continued to work his finger in and out of me, eventually adding another curling them upward reaching that one spot that I could never quite reach myself. The knot in my stomach tightened even more, my hips bucking on their own.

“D.. I’m close..”

“Let go baby, I wanna taste it,” that’s all it took for me to cum on his face. Blissed out and breathing heavily I almost missed Dean looking smug wiping my juices off of his chin.

“We don’t have to keep going…” he said and I think he really would have been totally fine stopping if I asked but I was nowhere near ready to be done.

“Condoms are in the nightstand,” was my bold way of saying I wanted to keep going. I could tell it caught him by surprise but before I could say anything else he had plopped himself on top of me to get to the drawer.

“Eager much?”I laughed as his full body weight was still splayed over me. He rolled his eyes and kissed me again rolling the condom on. I could feel his hard length resting against my stomach as we kissed, all tongues and teeth. We had gotten past the timid part and were both ready for more. He shifted and I could feel the tip hit my sensitive clit making me gasp, his cock slid between my folds and pushed into my entrance, he stopped making sure I was good before he slowly pushed the rest of the way in. Once he was fully seated inside me, his head fell down on my shoulder, his lips moving on my neck. I got impatient and moved my hips making him slip out a little bit, Dean took the hint and started to move. His pelvis hit my clit every thrust and he one of his hands came up and played with my nipple, I was overwhelmed by all the new sensations that I didn’t even realize I was making sounds that I had never made before. With each movement dean hit that spot inside that made my eyes roll back, before long I could feel the knot tightening again. Deans thrusts started to get shaky and uneven,

“I’m not gonna last…” he grunted, his face buried in my neck.

“Me… neither,” my hips bucked and with one more snap of his hips I came undone. That was all it took for him to spill himself into the condom. He collapsed next to me throwing the condom in the trash.

“Well….” I exhaled, breathing heavily.

“Yeahhh…” deans breathing matched my own.

“Soo, I’m not a virgin anymore,”

“No you are not,” He sounded real happy with himself. And honesty, and couldn’t blame him.

“Job well done I’d say,” I reached over to high five him.

We laid there in exhausted silence for a while before either one of us had enough energy to do anything.

“Well, I am starving and there is cold pizza in the fridge,”I declared as I got out of bed and threw on some comfy clothes. I was halfway through my second piece of cold pizza when dean came trudging out of my room. With my mouth full of pizza I gestured to the open box.

“So…” Dean awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, “you’re really good with what just happened?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Organs and pizza is a good way to start the day,”

“I don’t know, I mean it was your first time?”

“Oh D, are you worried I’m gonna fall in love with you?” I mocked.

“What no- I just- I was checking on you is all!”

“Ohhh little defensive much? Maybe I should worry about you falling in love with me,” I teased waving pizza in his face.

When we had finished making fun of each other the topic turned serious.

“So, you gonna head back to your dad today?” I asked.

“Yeah, I should actually head out soon,” he said quietly. We chatted for a while longer before he decided it was time for him to go. He gathered his things and made his way to the door,

“Just one thing before you go,” I stopped him in the doorway, “give your brother a call, ok? He walked out on your father not on you,”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks sweetheart,” he hugged me and then he was gone. It had been four years since I met him in high school and I wondered if I would ever see the green eyed hunter again. I sure hoped I would.

#dean x reader #dean x reader smut #dean x reader fluff #dean winchester imagine #mine #supernatural #supernatural fic

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backtothestart02 · 4 years

Text

Hazy - 4/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Angst city. Enjoy! lol.

Commissioned by @jennlee44

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Chapter 4 -

Two days later, and Barry still had no clue how to get out of Iris’ proposed arrangement.

Date someone else? No way. Even pretending to date someone that wasn’t Iris was out of the question. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone. He wasn’t over Iris, and it would be so unfair to whoever was “dating” him to act like he was. Besides, in his reality he was Iris’ fiancé. It felt like cheating on her to even think of someone else in that way. He wasn’t physically or emotionally capable of it.

Holding hands? Cuddling? Kissing? Making love?

He was squeamish just at the thought of any of those.

No. He couldn’t do it, and he wouldn’t. No amount of tears on Iris’ part could make him, as much as he hated to see her cry.

He turned to look at the clock and saw it was nearing his lunch break. One more case to go through and he’d let himself get out of CCPD for the next half hour. Forever fearing he’d run into Eddie or Iris made his workspace a war zone the past few days. His only comfort was Joe texting him when he and Eddie were going out into the field, so that he knew it was safe to make his escape.

He’d made the mistake of not waiting for a text the day before and caught Iris and Eddie in a loving embrace at Eddie’s desk. Apparently, all had been forgiven and they were a happy couple once more. Luckily, Eddie’s back had been facing him. Unluckily, that made Iris’ eyes meet his in a surprised and curious gaze. He quickly turned away and headed for the elevator, but her eyes were still watching him until the doors closed.

It was just a matter of time before Iris confronted him again, and he couldn’t figure out how to respond. Burst out that he was in love with her? That he would never date someone else? Accuse her of torturing him by asking him to do something he didn’t have it in him to do?

He didn’t know. But what he did know was that the sound of high heels were coming towards him down the hall merely seconds later, and he was too caught up in his own head to recognize them.

The knock on the door frame jolted him to her presence.

“Knock, knock,” she said.

His phone vibrated on his desk, and with a single glance Barry saw it was from Joe. He and Eddie had left.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she continued, walking into the room.

“I’ve been working,” he said, and she took note on how his pile was half as high as it had been two days ago.

“Your bruise looks to have healed up nicely,” she commented.

“Mhmm.” He quickly categorized the files into two piles and reached for his brown sack lunch.

She came and sat on the edge of his desk in the one spot where there was nothing occupying it.

He sighed, grateful it didn’t come out as a nervous gasp. She was so close.

If he was back in his time, this could easily turn into a steamy situation.

But he wasn’t. Because somehow, he’d ended up here. In a time where maybe Iris secretly had feelings for him, but she was married to Eddie, and there was nothing he or anyone else could do to change that.

“What are you doing here, Iris?”

“I came to check up on my best friend,” she said matter-of-factly.

“But I’m not your best friend,” he said, standing up. “I’m not anything to you.”

He saw that hurt her, but he wouldn’t let himself get affected. He walked past her and towards the exit.

“And whose fault is that?” she asked bitterly.

He stopped, his teeth grinding against each other as his hand clenched around the door frame.

Before he could spit some repulsive thing in response though, she was quick to come to him.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I know you don’t like the situation any more than I do.”

He turned around. “So why are you pushing someone else at me when I’m not…ready?”

“It’s been a year, Barry.”

“It’s been 17, Iris.”

Her face fell, downcast.

“So, you still…?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

Her shoulders slumped, and then her sad face turned angry.

“Well, what am I supposed to do with that?”

“The same thing you did before, I guess,” he snapped. “Cut me out of your life.”

“That’s not what I wanted! I-” She stopped, realizing she’d said too much.

Dots started to connect in Barry’s head.

“What do you mean that’s not…?”

She sighed, her face downcast again.

“After what happened at the reception, he said you or him.”

His eyes widened. “And you picked him.” His hurt could not be concealed.

“I’d just married him, Barry. I promised him my life, through thick and thin, sickness and health, good times and bad. I…I had to.”

“But I was your best friend, Iris!”

She took a step back.

“You shouldn’t have kissed me. Then none of this would have happened.”

“I was probably drunk,” he said.

“You were! Which made it even worse. You were Eddie’s best man, for crying out loud.”

Oh, God. He was? He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Let me guess, you don’t remember that either.”

His eyes narrowed.

“I’m going to leave now, go on my lunch break. Don’t be here when I come back.”

Her jaw dropped, her eyes filling with tears. He wanted to take it back. He wanted to take it all back. But he had to get her to leave. He couldn’t give her what she wanted, and he couldn’t stand to have her so close and not really have her.

“You could apologize to Eddie!” She called after him. “You’ve never done that either.” She scoffed, then softened. “That might work.”

He stopped again and turned around.

“Iris…” He sighed. “I don’t know if I want to be your friend right now.”

She took a step back, shocked to her core.

He turned away finally and made his way down the hall to the elevator, fighting to get Iris West-Thawne out of his head. She wasn’t his, and he needed to stop pretending she was. At least in this timeline.

…

That night, Barry decided to go out to a bar and get drunk. He also wanted to be entertained, so he went to the same karaoke bar he had with Caitlin back in the timeline he knew when they were both miserable and pining over people they couldn’t have.

Big mistake.

He spotted Caitlin and Ronnie at a table off to the side, and within five minutes of being there, Ronnie had dragged her up onto the stage to sing “Summer Lovin’.” Caitlin wasn’t drunk this time and was instead very nervous. Barry was amused. If only she knew…

And if only he could talk to her, ask for her advice. She had always been such a good listener when he needed to vent about Iris. And Cisco was a great distraction. He could get Iris out of his head like no one else could when he just needed a break from the drama and angst and heartbreak.

He missed their friendship. He missed having a friend. It was just depressing being in this timeline, considering that the only person he really had was Joe. And as great as Joe was, he always knew what was on Barry’s mind, and he couldn’t fix it either. Plus, there was just something about someone your own age having your back.

He turned away from the off-pitch pair onstage and paid for a beer at the bar.

Iris hadn’t been in the lab or even at CCPD when he’d returned from his lunch break. He’d meant what he said at the time, that he didn’t want to be friends – because he wanted to be more than that, and that he didn’t want her there – because he needed space from her accusations and pleading requests.

But he missed her all the same. It was hard to finish his work for the day because he couldn’t get her out of his head. And for all his trying, he couldn’t help believing that they belonged together. Not just if Eddie had died and not just if he’d told her how he felt about her sooner, but every timeline, every version of reality, they all resulted in Iris changing her name to West-Allen. Always.

He refused to believe this one was any different.

“Barry Allen,” a nearby voice announced with flair.

He quickly turned to see who the mischievous voice belonged to, though he’d be a fool not to remember her. She was impossible to forget.

“Linda?”

“You remember me,” she sassed. “Fantastic.”

She took a seat next to him at the bar and lured the bartender over.

“I’ll have what he’s having.”

The man handed her a beer, and she quickly paid for it.

“So, what brings you to these parts?” she asked, sidling close. It didn’t make him uncomfortable, but it did make him wonder if she was just a little bit tipsy. “Karaoke doesn’t really seem like your scene.”

“And what is my scene?” he asked, hoping to put some clues together of what exactly his relationship had been to Linda Park in this timeline.

“Anywhere Iris is, probably,” she muttered into her bottle.

Barry blushed. “Iris and I aren’t on speaking terms right now.”

“Oh, I know,” she informed him. “I used to see your pretty face in CCPN almost every day, but for the past year, poof! It’s like you never existed. I know why too.”

“Then you know why I’m not where Iris is right now.”

“I invited her to come out with me tonight,” she told him. “You would’ve been right on track with my suspicions if she’d said yes.”

“Well, I’m glad she didn’t.”

Linda looked at him curiously.

“Oh, yeah, why’s that?”

“You’re friends with Iris. Don’t you know?”

“Eddie?”

He nodded and took another sip of his drink.

“Yep.” He popped his lips.

“Still…you guys have been friends for years,” she continued. “I didn’t think her getting married would change that, even given the stunt you pulled.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

The silence lingered, and he gawked when she looked to still be waiting for a response.

“Didn’t she tell you? Eddie told her to choose between the two of us, and she chose him. So now we can’t be seen together, or it’ll cause problems in their marriage. The end.”

Linda’s eyes widened.

“No.”

He turned to face her.

“She didn’t tell me that.”

“Yeah, well, she didn’t tell me either until today.”

“I’m sorry, Barry,” she said softly. “I didn’t think she’d give you up so easily.”

He shrugged. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think it was. Easy for her, I mean. But that still doesn’t change the fact that she did it. Or the…bizarre thing she’s asked me to do so we can openly be friends again.”

“Oh? I’m intrigued.”

He snorted.

“Come on, tell a girl. You know I’ll never hear it from Iris.”

He sighed. “She wants me to date someone else to convince Eddie I’m over her. So he won’t feel threatened or like I’m trying to steal his wife.”

“And are you?”

“Am I a threat?” He shrugged. “Maybe. There’s no chance in Hell I’m getting over her. That makes me threat enough, probably.”

Linda licked her lips.

“I might have a solution for you.”

“Oh, yeah, what’s that?”

“Well, it just so happens that recently Scott, our editor at CCPN, and I had a little…one-night stand.”

“Oh, Linda.” His nose scrunched up. “I did not need to know tha-”

“Shut up. I’m not done yet.” She laughed.

“Please…proceed.” He gestured for her to continue, his face still scrunched.

“Thank you.” She took a swig of her drink. “Let’s just say, I don’t want it to end that way. Or at all.”

“You like him.”

She set her chin in the palm of her hand.

“He’s attractive as hell,” she confirmed. “But uh…up here too.” She pointed to her head. “Not just-”

“I think I got the picture,” he said dryly.

“There’s more between us. I can feel it. And Iris…she has feelings for you, Barry. It’s why I never asked you out. I always thought you two were kind of inevitable.”

He sighed. “Yeah, me too.”

“Listen.” She set her hand on his arm. “Iris is loyal to a fault. She takes her wedding vows very seriously. But the two of you have been friends since way before Eddie came along. That should mean something.”

“I thought it did.”

“Take me out,” she said, straightening in her seat.

“What? No. Linda, I can’t-”

“Relax, it’s all pretend. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do, and privately we won’t do a thing. Let’s just show Iris and Scott what they’re missing out on.”

He hesitated. “You’re sure Scott doesn’t want more because he’s…hung up on someone else?” Like, Iris?

Her brows furrowed. “And who would that someone else be? Iris?”

She read him so well. She always had.

“I didn’t mean-”

“Even if that’s true,” she allowed. “That doesn’t mean I can’t change his mind. That doesn’t mean we,” She gestured between them, “can’t make both of them jealous.”

He stared at her for a long while before laying out his requirements.

“I don’t want to hold hands or cuddle or kiss.”

She smirked, amused.

“Can you put your arm around me?”

He blinked, having not thought of that.

“I…”

“Loop our arms together?”

“Well…”

“Pretend to whisper something flirtatious in my ear when Iris or Scott are watching?” She paused. “I’ll giggle to make it convincing.”

She leaned in.

“There are plenty of subtle ways to show we’re in a relationship, Barry Allen.” She held out her hand for him to shake. “So, are you in or are you out?”

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

#westallen #fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #hazy #chapter 4 #fic commission

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lloydshoulddyehishair · 4 years

Note

Lloyd getting out of control due to his Oni blood and the ninja being scared?

oH ITS ON (sorry for any typos btw it’s about 1:30 am but i really felt like writing)

warning for violence btw

-----

Lloyd normally wasn't the type to lose control over his emotions. He really wasn't. All the years of keeping his feelings to himself had made it easier to just not let others see what was going on inside him.

But this-

This was different.

Because if there was one thing Lloyd despised over everything it was being compared to his father. And when this wannabe-criminal told him that he was just as bad as his father and that they were both failures - Garmadon for losing against his son and Lloyd for just simply existing - something inside of him snapped.

Something dangerous.

The Green Ninja had never experienced anger like this before. It was like it completely consumed his body and mind and his vision was blurred.

"I am not like my father!", his voice came out louder than he had intended but under his blurred vision he could see the criminal taking a step back from the Ninja in shock at his sudden outburst and that made him almost crack a smile.

"Woah, Lloyd calm down.", he could hear Kai's worried voice behind him and the Blonde was about to scream because if there was one thing he was not going to do it was to calm down.

He had done so much for Ninjago. Saved it so many times, sacrificed basically everything for it and he was still being compared to his evil father? Was that his thanks for everything he went through for this shithole of a city?

'If they want evil they will get evil.'

Lloyd felt a sudden urge to just grab the man by his throat and break his neck right now and there. Ending his life in mere seconds. But what would be the fun in that? No, he had to make him suffer for even thinking that he was the same as his father because he was not. He was good!

He barely noticed how his legs carried him over to the slightly smaller and in tattoos covered male until he was standing right in front of him, grabbing him by the throat just staring into his terrified eyes. A smirk crept on his lips.

"Dude, chill out!" Cole called from behind him and Lloyd turned around to face him, not letting go of the criminal.

The face's his teammates made were priceless, he found it hard not to chuckle. Taking a few steps towards him but being held back my Nya, Jay spoke to him.

"What- what is happening to you?", his voice was full anxiety and panic and Lloyd snorted.

"Stop bothering me and let me do what I need to do right now.", he drew his attention back to the man he was still holding and threw him to the ground, wincing in pain because of the harsh contact with the floor, making Lloyd's smirk only grow wider in response.

"You- you're a bloody ps-psychopath!", he stuttered crawling slowly away from him but the Master of Energy was having none of that.

"Oh, already want to leave the party?", he pulled out his katana from the bag on his back and eyed it for a second. "I don't think so.", he said coldly crashing the sword down on the man's shin, piercing him to the ground.

He heard his friends calling out to him in shock and despair but their words were completely buried by the sound of the man's screams.

It sounded like music in his ears. And he was currently dancing to it, not wanting it to end.

He kneeled next to him and just watched him cry for a second. It made him feel happy in some sort of way.

"This is what you get for comparing me to Garmadon.", he growled, now taking out a dagger. "So don't. You. Dare. Do. It. Again.", he growled again, placing cuts on the lawbreakers body in between each word, his voice not sounding like his own anymore almost like it was demonic.

The man kept on screaming and begging for him to stop, pleading for the Ninja to help him but none of them were able to move, too shocked at the sight of their little brother behaving so- so vicious. It was terrifying.

This wasn't Lloyd, they knew this wasn't him, couldn't be him. Lloyd was a good person. Kind-hearted, loving, selfless, loyal and most definitely not an evil psychopath.

This was the boy they had raised together. Their little baby brother. But right now they couldn't recognize him- couldn't see him.

“But it's not like you could do anything like that again anyway.”, Lloyd mumbled to himself shrugging a bit while letting the dagger draw softly over the criminal's face without cutting it. “Since you won't be doing anything ever again. Because you wanna hear a secret?”, the Blonde's mood changed suddenly as he tilted his head a bit and looked at the man with almost completely innocent and curious eyes.

The man bit his lip in pain but managed to get a silent 'what?' out.

Lloyd grinned widely, showing his fangs and began to laugh. “Oh isn't it obvious?”, he leaned forward to his ears before whispering “I will kill you.” making chills go down the villains body.

He sat up straight again.

“Do you hear that?”, he asked him looking at his in blood covered dagger and then focusing right back on his face with wide and curious eyes.

“Hear wh-what?”

“The blood rushing out of your throat?”, before the man could choke out a word and before the Ninja could anything to stop their brother from making a huge mistake Lloyd had already rammed his dagger into his throat making blood splatter everywhere including his face.

Screams echoed through the entire alley.

And all of a sudden everything began to clear up.

His vision and his thoughts.

He felt reality hit him.

Looking down at his hands and then the man laying on the ground, dead, covered in blood and with the dagger Lloyd's father had given him on his 13thbirthday he felt like he was going to throw up.

Crawling away from the body he felt a wave of nausea hit him and couldn't help but release the insides of his stomach on the dirty concrete floor. His entire body began to shake as he started to cry both in terror and panic.

What had he done? This hadn't been him! He didn't feel like himself when he was doing all of... this. It was like someone or something had took control of his body but it was much different than when he had been possessed by Morro. Whatever it was he had killed a man. He had killed a man in a brutal way and he could remember the way he felt when he did it. He could remember the satisfaction he felt and- He threw up even more.

Turning around slowly - because he had remembered that he actually wasn't alone - he felt like his heart was being ripped apart.

His friends, his family, the only people whom he trusted with his life stood there just staring at him in fright. It took a few second for Lloyd to connect the dots and realized that they were afraid of him.

And he started to cry even more. He couldn't take it, losing the only people he thought would never leave him. And this time it would be his fault.

Hearing muffled voices in the back he did his best to ignore them. They were probably discussing leaving him right now, so Lloyd really did not want to listen to them.

He just wanted to drift away. He just wanted to die.

A light pressure on his shoulder made him look up and he was being greeted by the soft, yet terrified blue eyes of Jay.

“Let's take you home.”

Lloyd shook his head in panic. No- They couldn't do that! What if he would hurt them as well? What if he would hurt anyone else? They should put him into prison or just kill him now before he could do more damage and not take him home!

“No! You can't! I-I-”, his voice broke and he tried to move away from the redhead. “I'm a monster, Jay!”

“You're not. We- we know that it wasn't you. It was your Oni-Side.”, the way the Blue Ninja spoke to him felt very out of character. His voice was calm and collected while his own was frantic and loud. It was almost like they switched places.

“How would you know?”

“Your eyes were purple, Lloyd.”, the Blonde muttered a quiet 'Oh' in response.

Now that made sense. A lot of sense actually. But if Lloyd had just unlocked his Oni-Half but wasn't able to control it the last thing he wanted to do was go home and put the lives of his friends in danger. Besides he had killed a man. The police would never let him get away with murder even if he was Ninjago's greatest protector.

“Please, Lloyd. Come home with us, Wu will help us figure all this out.”, Jay held a hand in his direction.

“Bu-but the man-”, he stuttered looking over to the corpse, where Kai was already standing removing the dagger and katana with slight disgust on his face.

The Fire Ninja who had apparently been eavesdropping turned to his little brother looking him right in the eyes. “They won't find out.”

He walked towards him, kneeling down next to him. “The police I mean. They won't find out it was you. I- We won't let that happen.”, Lloyd looked at him with shocked and wide eyes leading for Kai to sigh. “What are Ninja friends for if they don't help you get away with murder once, I guess.”

“No- We can't-”

“Yes, we can.”, Cole spoke out this time and Lloyd turned his head to his direction. “That wasn't you, Lloyd. Whatever it was it's terrifying but it wasn't-”, he took a deep breath. “It wasn't you.”, he saw Nya and Zane nod in the corner of his eye.

He started to cry again.

“I don't deserve you. None of you.”

This time it was Jay's turn to sigh and the elder picked him off of the ground.

“I'm sorry to break it to you, Lloyd, but we are exactly what you deserve.”

#ninjago #ninjago lloyd #oni lloyd #lloyd angst #saga writes

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