#first he broke up w her over text then ghosted her for months

[90stvshowgoth]

—THE BET

summary: you thought that as a member of the phantom troupe you were supposed to be smarter than this, yet here you were betting against hisoka. everyone knew that hisoka was a master at poker, cards were his weapon after all, but you couldn’t resist wagering one more bet on a drinking game.

w/c: 4587

tags: dubcon, drunk sex, creampie, blood kink, hate sex, begging, brat taming

a/n: this originally started as a chrollo oneshot, you can kinda tell from how the opening paragraph is about him, but once i started writing the poker game i was like “okay no i gotta make this its own thing,” and because of that decision we now have loose ends getting ch.3 rn :) also no, i couldn’t help but kinda reference phantom of the opera cause it slaps and nobody can tell me otherwise. also, no, before anyone asks, this is a oneshot. it aint getting a sequel.

big thanks to the lovely miss @sealedrosewater for beta reading this clownfucking nightmare.

The heist had gone off without a hitch, Chrollo’s plan worked like a charm and before the night was out you had all flawlessly extracted each and every one of the gilded texts being held in the museum. You still remembered the childlike gleam in your boss’ eyes as he ran his fingers over the aged leather, its binding parchment laced with gold. The faintest ghost of a smile fled from his pallid lips as he admired his new conquest. It made your chest swell with pride, happy to help the man you respected so much. Besides, your cut was nothing to sneeze at.

Your rendezvous was inside a long-abandoned opera theatre where dust clung to the red velvet of the seats and the chandelier was seemingly hanging by a thread; your boss always had a flair for the dramatics. Once all members of the spider had finished reconvening at the empty theatre to gather their spoils it wasn’t long before someone, probably Uvogin, brought out the drinks. Nobunaga had already begun nursing a rum and coke, all while Feitan kept turning down Shal’s insistence to “Just try some, Fei,” Even Shizuku cracked open one of the ice-cold bottles, knocking back an impressive swig. As soon as you saw Machi pulling out a deck of cards you knew you had to stay for the after party.

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said of your leader. He’d gone to his room with the book you recovered tucked under his arm. A few other members who couldn’t be bothered took after your leader and went off to whichever side room they’d stashed a futon in the week prior; the Phantom Troupe’s equivalent of picking out a bedroom. A shame, really. You’d seen Feitan drunk once before and it was truly a sight to behold.

You sat crosslegged on the wooden floor, watching your comrades slowly get comfortable for a night of fun. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat above you, looking up to see Pakunoda with a soft smile on her face and an opened beer in her outstretched hand.

“Paku, have I ever told you how much I love you?” You couldn’t help but shower the woman with praise. She had been the one who recommended you to Chrollo after all, and she served as your mentor for your first few months until you found your feet.

She scoffed at the compliment, “Far too much,”

Sticking your tongue out playfully at the mindreader, you took a deep sip of beer, enjoying the familiar taste. Paku sat down beside you and it wasn’t long before the two of you were drinking shoulder to shoulder.

“Machi! Deal us in,” You raised your drink to the transmuter and she flicked two cards towards you both.

Scooting away from Paku, you quickly scanned the cards you’d received before pressing them face down. A queen and an ace. Not great, but not awful either.

The others had formed a haphazard circle, each glancing at their cards with an unreadable poker face. Well, all except Hisoka, who seemed pleased as punch with whatever hand he’d been dealt. Silently, Nobunaga took out two coins and threw them into the center— the Troupe’s house rules counting it to be equivalent to 2 billion jenny.

“Call,” you answered, matching the swordsman’s bet with an unreadable expression on your face.

“Oh? Well then, I’ll raise you,” Hisoka purred, pushing five extra chips into the pot without breaking his gaze from yours.

‘What was he planning?’ That smug look of his just made you want to win that much more. The same seemed to be true of everyone else, each calling the clown’s bet in a row. After all, to a member of the Phantom Troupe, five billion jenny wasn’t that much of a loss.

When Machi turned up the first three cards your heart skipped a beat. Two queens and a seven. Winning a round of poker against some of the smartest criminals the world had ever known was an uphill battle, seeing as how you’d been a member for years without winning a single game.

‘Three of a kind already... what should I do?’ Your face was as stone-cold as before, even with the excitement bubbling in your gut. As nonchalantly as you could, you raised another two billion. At that, Uvo and Shizuku both folded, the enhancer grumbling with a disappointed frown.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I haven’t got enough coins~” Hisoka slapped down a twenty, and a chorus of annoyed groans broke out like a choir, the abandoned theatre’s acoustics amusingly echoed the loud noises of displeasure.

After that little stunt only three others remained: Pakunoda, who’s facade hadn’t cracked all game, Nobunaga, who was glaring daggers at Hisoka, and the aforementioned magician holding up his cards in front of him like a child playing for the first time.

All three of you matched his bet, but none were happy about it. As Machi flipped over the fourth card you found yourself holding your breath. Not because you particularly cared about the money at stake, but because you felt closer to a victory than you had in months. The caricature of a medieval jester being illuminated under the light made you dig your nails into the palm of your hand.

Joker. That meant you had four queens.

It never felt harder to fight a smile off your face than in that moment. Without betraying your excitement, you called, and to your surprise so did Hisoka. Was he bluffing? Or did he have something else in mind? Nobunaga took a deep breath, knocking back the rest of his drink before calling alongside Pakunoda.

All eyes were on the card beneath Machi’s fingertips, the seconds it took to turn the paper on its head filled the theatre with a suspense liable to bring its fragile walls to the ground.

An eight of hearts. Oh well, no big deal.

Nobunaga muttered a curse under his breath, revealing a simple jack and ten of the same suit. Pakunoda was unreadable when she showed the pair of kings she held in her hands. She must’ve thought that the three of a kind would’ve won her the game. The smile on your face felt sweeter after holding it in the whole round, and Nobunaga rolled his eyes when he saw your hand, pushing the pot towards you.

“Well, look at that~” Your victory was interrupted by Hisoka’s insufferable tone, the cards he held up making your jaw drop.

A nine and a jack of hearts. A straight flush.

“That’s bullshit!” You cried, enraged over the loss. It wasn’t even that you cared so much about losing, It only mattered because you lost to him. In an instant you had summoned your nen into the palms of your hands, ready to lunge at the clown when Pakunoda grasped your shoulders, holding you back. Sometimes you forgot how much brute strength was hidden under that pantsuit.

“Just flip a coin, don’t give him what he wants.” Your first reaction was to ignore her, squirming against her iron grip to try and get to Hisoka, who was dramatically scooping all your winnings into his arms.

Uvogin tossed yet another empty beer can over his head, “C’mon Paku, I say let ‘em fight,”

“I concur~” The magician chirped, dramatically stacking each and every coin he’d won while boring his yellow eyes right into yours. His tongue parted his lips, a manic excitement hiding behind the coy expression.

Although every muscle in your body screamed at you to rip into him, you knew you wouldn’t win. He knew your abilities and you couldn’t say for certain you knew all of his.

“Never-mind,” You spat the words out at him like they tasted sour, “You’d probably get off on it anyways.”

A few laughs from the peanut gallery followed your words and Hisoka shrugged, the intense bloodlust from a few seconds ago vanishing as if he’d changed his mind about fighting you on a whim. “You may be right, darling,” your face scrunched up at the nickname you knew he only used to get on your nerves, which it did. “but what if we played a different game?”

Despite how badly you just wanted to ignore him and laugh the night away with all but one of your comrades, you couldn’t turn down the idea of a rematch. Your pride wasn’t nothing to you. “What kind of game?” You asked hesitantly.

He hummed, standing up from the towers of coin he’d made, sauntering over to the cooler of drinks Franklin had provided. After digging around the cold box he pulled out a bottle of fruity tequila and two empty shot glasses.

Your eyes narrowed at the “innocent” smile on his face, looking over to Pakunoda for reassurance.

“You’ll kill him if he spikes my drink, right?” You asked your mentor, who nodded resolutely.

Paku was staring at Hisoka like she was already thinking of ten different ways how to kill him. After sizing him up she flashed you a reassuring nod, “Without question.”

Resolute in your decision, you marched forward, snatching one of the shot glasses from his hand. The stage lights shone above him, making his eyes gleam like the plastic gloss of a doll.

“Shall we begin, then?”

You raised an eyebrow, “What are the rules first?”

He waved his hand in the air, brushing it off, “Nothing too complex, I assure you. The first one who taps out will lose. The loser will do something for the winner. That’s all.”

You still weren’t convinced it could be that simple. “What’s the catch?”

That smirk from before returned to his painted face and he suddenly leaned forward, feeling far too close for comfort. Still, you didn’t step away, your face expressionless as he whispered into your ear. If you did you felt like he’d somehow win whatever stand-still the two of you had on.

“If I lose, I’ll leave the Phantom Troupe,” You reeled away, stunned at his declaration.

Being accepted into the Troupe was the best moment of your life, it always would be. When you looked into the mirror at the tattoo that curled under your ribcage you felt such a warm swell of pride. You couldn’t imagine throwing it all away over some drinking game.

“And...” You blinked rapidly, trying to collect yourself, “If I lose?”

The laugh that echoed from his chest was far from reassuring.

The evening slowly ran into the early morning, each of the other Troupe members wandering off eventually in varying stages of drunkenness. Even Pakunoda headed off to bed after confirming that Hisoka hadn’t spiked your drinks with anything other than a strawberry vodka base. It was unnerving at first, to be completely alone with Omokage’s replacement. Luckily his tastes ran strong, and your vision was spinning before your knew it.

“Match.” Another shot went down your throats, the taste disgustingly sweet, and you watched as his Adam’s apple tensed from the burn.

You’d long since stopped counting how many drinks you’d had, losing track once you got to the double digits. You were both using nen to reinforce yourselves, obviously, but it wasn’t infallible.

‘How is he so good at this?’ You wondered, because as the bottle ran low you started to question just what had made you so confident as to enter a bet with Hisoka in the first place.

“My dear, why not rest for a minute? At least try to enjoy each others company?” His legs were crossed, resting his hand on his palm as he not-so-subtly checked you out. It wasn’t uncommon, and certainly not unexpected from someone like him, but what you hated wasn’t just the nerve of him, but how it made you feel. His scrutiny sent chills down your spine, the unnerving edge to his tone only making you shift your thighs together to relieve some of the pressure.

“You’re the worst, Hisoka,” you knocked back two consecutive shots, unable to hide the wince it caused on your face. Good, you wanted it to sting. Anything to take your mind off the magician in front of you.

He pouted as he poured another row of drinks, “Aw, now why’s that?”

You answered his question with another, pointing towards the half-empty bottle of liquor, “Whats in this, really?”

The magician rolled his eyes, “I did pick an unopened bottle for a reason, dear, I do so want you to trust me.”

Without much fanfare he threw back four shots, over your stunned reaction.

“Just give up already, Darling~ I promise to make it worth your while,” You were reaching your limit for sure, but you were far to stubborn to give up without a fight.

“Fuck you,” you took the first of your next four shots slowly, not managing his fast pace.

He grinned a cheshire smile, “Oh, say that again, will you?”

If he were to call you out on the blush slowly spreading across your nose you’d just blame the alcohol, but the truth was that his words just egged you on even more to the point where you were almost—barely even considering...

“What do you mean, make it worth my while?”

He leaned forward like a cat, agile and silent, whispering his words against your temple, “I’ll tell you how I won that hand,” He got you, hook, line, and sinker.

“You’ll tell me how you cheated?”

Hisoka nodded, a clawed hand coming to stroke a stray piece of hair behind your ear, the action far too intimate for someone like him.

There was no way you’d win against him in this match, that much was clear from the very sober way Hisoka held himself against you, inhumanly still, so what did you have to lose?

‘Your dignity,’ A part of you answered back, but it wasn’t all that convincing. You’d left your dignity behind four shots ago.

“If I lose...”

“If you lose,” He mouthed the words into your cheek, his eyes closed in thought, “You do know what I’ve decided my prize shall be, right?” Of course you knew what he wanted. You weren’t stupid, and the way he nuzzled himself into your neck was far from subtle.

Were you actually so desperate to learn how you lost that you’d sleep with him?

No, you weren’t. But the ache between your legs was getting harder to ignore, and the idea that you could write off what you were about to do behind the excuse of gathering intel sounded like a win-win.

You dug your hands into his hair, not trying to be anything but rough, basking in the moan that spilled from his lips, breath hot against your neck before you yanked him back to meet your gaze.

“Fine. You win, Hisoka,” He smirked, and although he was on his knees he still towered over you, “so how did you cheat?”

Before you could blink his hand had wrapped around your throat, the magician slamming your head into the wood of the stage. You’d had plenty of time to block the damage with your hatsu but the action left your brain rattling inside your skull.

“I’ll tell you later,” He promised, the disorienting blur was slow to fade from the alcohol, and distantly you could feel his other hand stroke your face, his nails like filed daggers trailing over your cheekbones.

“What to do with my prize, then, hm?” He mused, tilting your head from left to right as if examining a block of wood he was about to carve. You coughed on impulse when he let go of your neck, guiding it up instead and taking both your small hands into his palm with an iron grip.

With a flick of his wrist he drew a card, the eight of hearts, seemingly out of nowhere, his nen sharpening it into a thin blade, “Don’t move,”

“Wait... Hisoka, don’t—!” You were far too late to stop him, the frigid air of the ghostly theatre rushing to meet the bare skin of your chest.

Your shirt fell to ribbons along with your bra and you thrashed desperately in his grasp, angry over the loss of your favorite top. He paid your escape attempt no mind, enraptured with the way your tits rose and fell with the timing of your breath and the way you tried to wriggle yourself free.

Still holding your hands to the floor above you, his head bent to wrap a skilled tongue around your tits, a soft sigh involuntarily falling away from you.

“I fuckin’ ha-ate you, Hisoka—ah,” His teeth bit down on your peak at the comment, peering up at you from under his fiery hair.

“Oh? Then why is it you’re moaning like a little whore?” He shifted his weight above you and you saw an opportunity.

You kicked with all your strength between his legs, pulling your knee back and shoving him off with a dig of your shoe into his stomach, “I’m not, don’t call me that shit!”

He actually loosened his grip on you clearly not intending for you to get free from his grasp, a choked sound of what you thought was pain devolving to something much more heated as he stared into you.

“You... are well worth the wait, my dear,” His bloodlust seeped out from every pore, grounding you to the spot. You could usually hold your own against someone like him but it wasn’t hard to see the disadvantage you were at.

Within a fraction of a second he was on you, twisting your waist in his clawed grasp until your ass was hiked into the air, a sharpened playing card slicing through the denim until he could rip it from your legs, yelp echoing like music in the long-silent theatre.

“I knew you’d have some fight left in you,” He crawled forward and you started to realize why he wore exclusively baggy pants, his length hot against you through the fabric as his hips caged you in. As he began to remove that street-performer getup he always wore he’d occasionally curl his hand around your waist to mercifully tug on your ignored clit, your groans muffled and cursed, “I love it. That resilience? It just turns me on.”

You could feel your confidence fade as he tugged those sweatpants down, the weight of him grinding into your ass made all your bravado vanish.

“It will make it so much more satisfying...” He pointed his finger upwards, and suddenly your hands became magnetized to each other, no amount of struggle even budging the rubbery nen substance. “...when I break you.”

Without warning he slid himself inside you, hands holding your hips still as he forced your back into an arch. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, the flailing of your bound arms useless as he shallowly began pumping his cock deeper inside you.

Your muffled curses whispered into the floor made him laugh, pulling his hand back and cruelly slapping the vulnerable flesh of your ass without a warning.

“Wh.. Why?”

“Because, darling, I want to hear you beg for me.” He pouted, teasing your clenched walls with only the tip of his slick head.

Despite the desire coursing through your veins you still had your pride in tact, “Never gonna happen, asshole.”

Gripping your hips, he dug himself into your dripping cunt as far as he could, both of you unrestrained with a moan at the feeling of his cock brushing near your cervix, your hips traitorously snapping back to meet his eager thrusts, movement near impossible as Hisoka forced you into the ground.

You cried out softly with each quick pull and stretch, only able to say his name one syllable at a time,

“Hi-so—kah...” It was hard to turn your head to the side from his brutal pace but somehow you manage, craning yourself in order to see him; His head was thrown back with a sheer bliss softening his glistening skin, his eyes closed and lips parted. The sight made your keening grow louder, the simple image of him losing himself in your twitching pussy sending a wave of slick dripping around his length.

He must’ve felt your gaze on him because soon enough his was staring at you, his pupils blown wide with desire in a way that made them look like a sun eclipsed, black outlined with a ring of fiery gold.

All at once his hips froze, digging his cock so far as to leave an indent in your pelvis. For a confused second you thought he’d finished, but his gaze was cruel and focused, his lips in a smirk, and you felt no more full than you had a moment ago. He was doing this on purpose.

“Wait, no-nono, wh..y?” You hiccuped, taking his break as a moment to wipe unshed tears from your glossy eyes.

He sighed, “I don’t like repeating myself, darling,” He accentuated the infuriating nickname with a slap to your thigh, face unchanged as he trailed his sharpened fingertips along the reddening skin.

“His..oh.. fuck, Hisoka—“ The banished tears returned, falling silently down your pink face as you whispered, “please,”

“Hmm? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you, my dear, mind saying that again?

Your voice hiccuped as you spoke, “Please, alright? Please,” You thought it’d be enough, that he might finally go back to toying with your clit while he fucked you into the old floorboards, but you’d underestimated the magician’s self-control.

Innocently, he tilted his head, “Please what, dear? Please hit you again?” Hisoka didn’t blink as he slowly brought up his palm, giving you plenty of time to try and wiggle free from your punishment just to show off how futile escape really was, lashing his hand down on the same patch of skin as before, grinning at the shriek he yanked from your lungs.

“No! No, fu-uck.. just—“ You whimpered, brain seemingly disconnected from your mouth as you struggled to form the words, “just fuck me, Hisoka, please.”

“Look at you, huh? You were a slut after all,” He purred, letting the weight of your words hang lifeless in the air along with your stubborn pride. Before you could argue again his hand had returned to your clit, pace unforgiving as he pulled your nerves ever closer to snapping only to halt the second he grew bored, “Say it,”

Mindlessly, you nodded your head, “I’m yours, I’m your slut, Hisoka,” you intentionally clenched yourself around him, mumbling lucid pleas for more as his hard cock twitched, pre cum dripping from your heat onto the floor as your conscience trying to deny what your body so willingly accepted, “want you to fuck me, Hisoka, fu-ck,” you whined, the still presence inside your sensitive walls drove you insane.

With each word a truly unhinged aura began to surround him, and by extension, you, the intoxicating menace dripping over you like a drug as you faced forward once again, wiggling your ass as best you could in his grip.

That was his breaking point, ripping you away from his cock only to drive himself back in, digging the full blade of his nails into your hips, blood pooling around the crescent cuts.

“Fuck, ah.. Darling, ‘doing so good, so good’fr me-ah,” He slurred his words together, more drunk on you than the vodka as he leaned back, forcing you to meet him as his thrusts became so quick that it was getting hard to breathe, your ribcage creaking with discomfort as you were nailed into the stage.

“M..o-re, more...” You begged, and he was happy to oblige. the smearing crimson of blood running hot down your thighs, the pain only making you more pliant in his sculptor’s hands as he folded your body however he liked, ignoring your pained weep from the stretch as he slung one of your bleeding legs over his shoulder.

It was almost weird to hear him say your actual name, so often he used a pet name to mock or flirt with you, sometimes both, “So good for me like this, taking me so goo-uh,” He choked on his words as your cunt tightened around him, your hands clinging for balance in his hair, and Hisoka clearly didn’t mind if the slew of moans from his lips was any indication.

The angle his hips cut into had the edges of your vision turning into a vignette, “I’m close, so close, gonna cum inside you, yeah? Right here,” The hand that had been toying with your clit changed angles, his fingertips spinning spirals onto your aching bud while the flat of his hand pushed against your stomach, your shout swallowed by his pretty lips, tongue toying with yours.

“Ye-es cum inn-side me,” You were too far gone to care, anything he said sounded good as long as he said it in that sultry purr, arms numb as they lay suspended above your head.

“Take it, take it, Darling,” With what little strength you had left you curved your calf beside his neck, pulling him in until his cock brushed your cervix, the pain indistinguishable from the pleasure, “Uhn, cumm-fuck, i’m cumming—“

His cum was thick, the curve of his cock jutting inside you as he filled you up, mercifully swallowing your hallowed scream as he kissed you deeply, almost all feeling in your raised leg lost until he lowered it to his waist, involuntarily snapping his hips up although they had nowhere left to go until your moan turned into a broken sob of lingering bliss.

“Shh, dear, I’ve got you,” With a whirl of his wrist your arms were free of his bungee gum, shakily pulling them to your sides again as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your neck, whispering a slurred mess of sweet words, stopping to suck a particularly deep hickey into the vein of your flesh.

“Hisoka, quit it!” Your fight had returned along with feeling to your fingertips as you wrenched him back by the hair, his cock jumping.a bit inside you at the grip, “I’ll have to wear sweaters for weeks now, you jerk.”

The capillaries had already begun to burst as he laughed, reaching up behind your head to pull his discarded top forward, digging out what looked like a piece of smooth cleaning cloth from its pocket and lying it over your neck with a simple point of his finger, gyo revealing the pink gum of his aura that controlled it before he smoothed the fabric over your skin, the texture so light you could barely feel it.

“A deal’s a deal, love, I’ll tell you how I cheated,” He smiled as satisfied and smug as he could ever be, a tingling sensation overtaking the patch of covered skin.

As he pulled your hand away you ran your fingers over the cloth, not finding a seam among the normal tone of your chest. Eyes wide as you looked at him for answers he was already happy to provide, “It’s called texture surprise. I can apply it to any flat surface and change its appearance. It’s quite handy,”

“It works on skin, paper, even playing cards,” You felt like an idiot. During the match you kept analyzing him for a sleight of hand trick all while he was using a second nen technique to win. It was so simple but genius, and you felt a little bit better knowing you weren’t outwitted by something obvious.

“You’re the worst, Hisoka,”

He chuckled, kissing along the new unblemished canvas of your neck, “I know~”

#hisoka x reader #hisoka x reader smut #hisoka morrow #hisoka morrow x reader #hisoka morrow x reader smut #phantom troupe #hxh fanfic #hxh #hunter x hunter

[peachiimilquetea]

something angsty with tenya leaving fem reader for the event? ty! prompt: “you can’t leave me. i don’t know how to survive without you.”

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞. 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.” + tenya iida

a/n: bro… i don’t really like angst without the potential for a somewhat happy ending so i hope you’re ok with the fact that it’s not completely sad. i did pull on the heartstrings quite a bit tho, i hope you enjoy! check out the event here

contains: angst (obviously), iida being heavily influenced by his family, tensei to the rescue lowkey, crying, insecurities, mentions of alcohol, ambiguous ending, miscommunication

length: 2.0k

at first things had started off small.

iida worked long hours as the work of his brother’s hero agency fell on his shoulders. he tried his best to make time for you, but it always felt like your schedules could never line up just right.

you tried to work something out, quick calls on break times and cute messages around the house to remind you of one another, but most efforts fell flat.

then things started to get worse.

long and empty nights were spent building up resentment towards the man you had married. he was always doing something, something that took precedence over the vows you made when you walked down the isle no more than three years ago.

you knew his family didn’t like you that much, feeling that a marriage for love was a waste of such a powerful commitment. a commitment that could built them an empire, and boost the rank of their hero agency, solidifying a legacy for them.

tenya defied them for you, boldly declaring that he would marry whoever he wanted and that you were in it for the long haul. you were the girl of his dreams, he said, and anything that got in the way of his happiness was not something he would subscribe to. that only made them hate you more.

so when his texts of encouragement grew shorter and more sparse, and he began to have more special responsibilities bestowed upon him by none other than his father, you knew it was on purpose.

unfortunately, it was an effective strategy to chip away at a young and unseasoned marriage.

“tenya can you please just check your schedule? i really want to spend more time with you.”

he sighed and rubbed his temples as he sat in his office. why were you bothering him with something so insignificant? you knew how important this transition of power was for the iida family, for the legacy of ingenium, but you still persisted.

he could feel the anger beginning to build until he looked in your eyes and saw the sadness brimming in them. his heart squeezed in his chest as he watched you, his wife, plead with him to spend time together. when had things come to this?

“i’ll try my best, but i cant promise anything.”

at this point, that was better than anything you could’ve hoped for.

with a kiss to his forehead you left him alone to get the heaps of paperwork he had to do, spirits lifted at the prospect of spending time with him again. just like the way it used to be.

you checked the time on the microwave for the 9th time. fifty-seven minutes had passed and your husband was officially late.

you should have seen it coming really, empty promises were becoming more and more common amongst the two of you. he would promise to try harder and you would promise to cut him more slack, the constant push and pull never being enough for either party.

getting up from the barstool at your kitchen island you made your way to the wine cooler to get a drink. not even bothering to pick up a glass you slumped on the couch, kicking off your shoes and splaying yourself out, just wanting the cushions to swallow you whole and dull the aching in your heart.

he wasn’t coming.

he was never coming.

you laid passed out on the couch when iida finally came home 2 hours later. he was only stopping by for a quick break, then going back out on patrol and he completely forgot about the things he said, smiling through tired eyes as he thought, this time i’ll make it up to her.

at the very least he could clean you up and tuck you in. he could brace himself for the impending fight later, but he was concerned about you. you never drank, not unless there was something wrong.

iida easily hoisted you up over his shoulder, discarding the various wine bottles and taking you to your shared room, although he wasn't sure if it was still considered shared anymore.

he laid you on the bed softly, changing you into one of his old shirts. his fingers ghosted over your cheek as he watched you sleep, the reality of where he was sitting heavy on his heart.

he loved you and yet there was nothing he could do to help at this moment. he had to leave for night patrol. he had to leave you.

his gentle touches roused you from your sleep and your eyes felt heavy as you tried to blink them open.

“you came?” you breathed, voice sounding foreign even to yourself.

iida gave you a small smile, “im sorry.”

your demeanor did a 180 at his apology. he was sorry. he was always sorry. but sorry couldn’t fix this. not when it had been so broken.

you winced and sat up, “sorry for what? sorry that you broke your promise for the thousandth time or sorry that you’ve been such a shit husband for the past few months?!”

“______-”

“no tenya. you do this every single time! every time i want to spend time with you theres always something more important! what could be more important than your wife?!”

“______ you know my father-”

you laughed bitterly at the mention of his dad. he always had to be such a good little iida child, always on daddy’s beck and call. it made you sick.

“your father doesn’t even want us to be together! cant you see that he’s doing this on purpose! youre a grown man! not a child permanently tied to his mommy and daddy!” you spat

“hes giving more responsibility for the sake of the agency! for the ingenium legacy! why are you always so selfish when it comes to these things?”

“selfish? selfish?” you asked, incredulous. you couldn’t believe your ears.

“yes selfish. do you know how much i sacrificed to be with you? how much i already have on my plate on top of trying my best to make time for you?”

you stared in astonishment.

sacrifice?

what had he sacrificed for this relationship? he got to do what he wanted, come and go as he pleased with virtually no regard for how you felt or what you did. what sacrifice was there in that way of living?

“fuck you, tenya.”

tenya took a deep breath and ran his hand down his face. he chose his words carefully before finally saying, “i cant do this. im leaving.”

you could hear a pin drop in the room. you felt your blood pound in your ears as you stood up quickly, dizzy from the alcohol but still trying to process the words you had just heard.

leaving?

“youre leaving?”

“yes, i have to go. im not doing this with you, not now.”

your heart felt like it had been smashed by a sledgehammer, as you tried to regulate your breathing. leaving. he was leaving.

“w-wait,” you feebly attempted to cling onto him as he gathered a few of his things.

“tenya you cant leave me.”

“_____ i do not want to do this right now,” he sighed, easily shaking you off and moving to collect more things. his words were buzzing around on the inside of your skull. he was leaving.

leaving without so much of a second thought. he had been planning this. still unsteady on your feet you hobbled after him as quickly as possible, desperation taking over every fiber of your body. you didn't want to lose him, you just wanted your husband back, you happiness back.

“y-you cant do that! you cant leave me! i dont know how to survive without you, tenya, please-”

“_____, just go to bed. you’re drunk.”

you trailed him around the house,“no, you don’t get to decide when this is over. i'm the one whos been hurting for months you cannot just leave me by myself.”

iida spared you one last glance before grabbing his bag, “goodbye, _____”

crushed, you sank to your knees, leaning on the couch for support. you felt like you were dying., hell, you probably were dying. you had never had so much to drink in your life, and you were desperate to make the pounding pain in your chest stop.

you cried yourself to sleep that night, waking up to the sunlight coming through the window with a splitting headache. you felt like your skull was trying to crack itself open from the inside but you shakily got to your feet, remembering bits and pieces from your fight with iida.

you could tell he didn't come home last night; everything was exactly the way you had left it last night. the house alarm was still on, and his shoes were gone.

he actually left.

anger bubbled in your chest as you thought about what had actually happened. you would not let him get the last laugh, or be the last one left, the one waiting on him patiently to pick up the pieces after trying to keep it together. you would leave too, as much as it hurt, and show him just how selfish you could be.

in a flash, you haphazardly packed a bag with essentials and had texted your friends that you needed a place to stay for a few days. you didn’t get into specifics- your heart ached too much to relive the events of the previous night- but you told them you had reached your limit and you needed to take some time to cool off.

alternatively, iida did not sleep that night. after finishing patrols, he stayed at his brother’s apartment out of pure convenience, not feeling prepared to face you after everything that had transpired between the two of you.

the dark-haired man laid staring at the ceiling of tensei’s guest bedroom, wracking his brain and trying to pinpoint how things had gone south so fast. he wanted to fix things, but really didn’t know how. he couldn’t even tell you what was broken, let alone how to begin to fix them.

his brother had tried to give him advice after listening to the entire story, but there was only so much he could do. he knew that you were right, their father was keeping him from you on purpose, slowly making tenya think that he was in the right in an attempt to break you up, but he couldn't be the one to tell him.

tenya had to come to that conclusion himself. he needed to be the one to set boundaries and save your relationship, but from the looks of it, soon any attempts would be futile.

“_____? darling?” iida called as he came into your home. immediately noticing your missing shoes, he moved to the bedroom in a flash, checking to see if you had just moved them or something.

the room was a mess, drawers left open and clothing strewn across the bed and floor. the bathroom had been cleared of almost all your essentials, and a note was left on the dresser. gingerly, iida picked it up and read it, offering up a silent prayer that it didn't say what he thought it did.

i don't know when you'll see this, or if you ever will. if you're reading it, that means you came back home but you will not find me there.

im tired, tenya.

im tired of always being the one to extend the olive branch or bend over backwards for you.

i refuse to be in that position any longer. i love you… i love you so much it hurts sometimes because i know this isn't the way things were supposed to be. but you left, and so i decided to leave too.

if a way to fix things exists, i want us to find it, but right now i need some time to reevaluate us and what that means. i hope you understand, i know you will.

if you want to reach out, im open to talking about this further, but for right now i need to think.

goodbye.

--------

#peachiileaf50! #[🍑]peachiimilquetea #[🍑]peachiiwrites #scenario #tenya iida #mha iida #iida angst #angst #tenya iida x reader #iida x female reader #peachiileafsfw

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (13)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It’s simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if…Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

“A future without you is a world without color.”

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: discussion of injuries which i know nothing about, effects of drunk driving.

SERIES: CHAPTER 12 | CHAPTER 14

Jeon Jeongguk missed you.

He missed you so much he felt like he was going crazy.

He didn't realize that a big part of you was occupying his whole being to the point that when the two of you separated ways, he felt like everything he had meant nothing if you weren't in his life.

He had been dreaming of buying his own apartment ever since he was young, but now that he finally had a house that he could call his own, Jeongguk came to know that this wasn't what he wanted.

What he desired was not a house—he wanted a home and home was wherever you were.

The walls surrounding him weren't going to protect him. It actually hurt him. The deafening silence kept on bouncing that he felt like he was gonna lose his sense of hearing.

Jeongguk decided he hated silence.

He wanted his house to be filled with your laughter.

"Seriously, Guk. Why am I here?"

Jeongguk couldn't speak as Red continued to glare at him.

Ji-eun and her father couldn't visit today because Namjoon had work to do. This left Jeongguk with no choice but to invite his ex-girlfriend in his abode. He hated being alone since it reminded him of how fucked up he was.

He needed a distraction.

"So now you're giving me the silent treatment?" Red rolled her eyes. This was one of her ex lover's habits that she hated. Jeongguk was so bad when it came to communicating.

"You need to tell me the truth if this is about her." Red sighed and Jeongguk froze. The former hadn't mentioned your name, yet Jeongguk was already affected. He knew Red was referring to you.

"I like her a lot and as much as I enjoy doing you a favor, I can't do this forever."

"Msorry..." Jeongguk avoided Red's eyes as he bit his lower lip. His heart hurt a lot.

"No." She shook her head as if her ex's apology was pure bullshit. This was truly unacceptable. "This isn't just about you, Jeongguk. Did you know that the whole office is either questioning my sexuality or thinking I'm a kiss-ass?"

"What?" The confused boy flicked his gaze at Red.

She snorted and then rolled her eyes once more.

"People think I'm in love with your soulmate because I basically cook her three meals a day. I also remind her to drink water, take her vitamins, leave her sweet notes, and change the flowers in her vase just because you are too much of a pussy to do it on your own!"

Jeongguk averted Red's glare again. She was right. He was a fucking coward—too scared to do all these good things on his own.

He was the one who left you, but he felt like you didn't want to do anything with him anymore. Jeongguk had accepted his sad fate, but it didn't mean he would stop taking care of you.

The truth was he was the one who cooked the food you eat every day. He was the one writing you sweet notes, he was the one bombarding Red text messages to kindly remind you to do the simple things you usually forgot because of your busy schedule.

Jeongguk was doing all of this without your knowledge.

How could he tell you when he knew he was unnecessarily mean to you?

"I mean it's about right. I told you I'm gonna stay here for a few months. It's over now. I don't want to be your tenant anymore."

What he said to you six months ago was deeply engraved in his head. This lie was what kept him awake at night.

Jeongguk was lying. Yes. It was true that he didn't want to be your tenant, but it didn't mean that he didn't want to live with you anymore.

But he was so confused—so fucked up in the head that the only solution was to push you away.

He stood by his belief. You did not understand anything and you did not love him.

But Jeongguk was sure of one thing—or at least he thought so.

"I-I," his adam's apple bobbed up and down. He was nervous.  "I think I like her..."

The girl's scoff indicated that she didn't like what he just said.

"You think?" She crossed her arms, making Jeongguk flinch. Her reaction reminded him of the time he met Red at Seokjin's birthday party.

"Why did you follow me, Jeongguk?" Red looked like she had seen a ghost, but she still folded her arms over her chest to intimidate Jeongguk.

It was easy to frighten him. All she had to do was to raise her brow and cross her arms.

"Wow," your soulmate gritted his teeth. "You haven't seen me in so long and this is how you greet me?"

Jeongguk wasn't expecting to see Red at this party. He was here because he wanted to be your date. The thought of you bringing Hoseok to this party made him so angry.

"How do you expect me to react, Guk? I don't want you here!" She was panicking. Jeongguk called her a bitch the last time they had seen each other.

Right now, Red couldn't help but think that Jeongguk would cause ruckus again.

This couldn't happen. Not right now. Not when people were watching Seokjin, and definitely not when you were here.

Red went to the veranda to get some air. She couldn't face you, couldn't face Jeongguk, and couldn’t face Seokjin. The latter had no idea that Jeongguk was the ex she was talking about. They hadn't had the chance to talk about your soulmate because Seokjin was too caught up with the divorce trial.

"So that's it, huh?" Jeongguk clenched his fist. "You'll just decide you don't want me anymore just because you found your soulmate!?"

"Yes!" Red did not even hesitate. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She was so scared. All she could think about was the fact that Jeongguk could destroy this evening.

"I found my soulmate and I'm okay now. You should be happy too, JK. You have met the person destined for you."

Jeongguk looked away. How could he be happy? He found you, but he liked Red.

Red knew what was running inside his mind, so she shook her head and looked at Jeongguk straight in the eyes.

"Do not hurt her, Jeon. She's a one of a kind girl. You can't find another person as sweet and smart as her."

'But you're sweet and smart too!' Jeongguk wanted to argue.

"She saved my life. I owe her everything I have. I wouldn't even be able to meet my soulmate if it wasn't for her." She sobbed.

"So don't. Please. Don't hurt her."

Jeongguk blinked back to reality upon realizing that he broke Red's request.

He hurt you. Bad.

"You have to be one hundred percent sure about what you feel for her, Jeongguk. She deserves better than this."

He remained quiet, still pondering on what he felt.

Six months passed, but he felt like it wasn't enough to ease his doubts.

"No." He blurted out. "I-I like her,"

Red's expression softened, but she wasn't convinced yet. Jeongguk was stammering as if he wasn't certain.

"Are you really sure? I know I'm always pressuring you, but I want you to be real." She said carefully.

Jeongguk's heart was hammering. It felt like it wanted to be free from the cold cage he built.

"I don't know!" He looked like he was in a lot of pain. Tears were actually threatening to fall down his cheeks.

Jeongguk hated feelings. Why were they so complicated?

"Okay, Gukkie. Calm down."

Gukkie. You called him this. Jeongguk had another realization. That nickname was only cute when it came out of your pretty mouth.

He wanted to kiss you.

"I think you're just guilty and confused right now," Red started.

He could only listen.

"Guilty because you are being held back by the amount of time we spent together. You drilled it in your head that I am the one for you. You ignored the fact that soulmates exist and now that you're experiencing how the soulmate bond works, you became confused."

Red could feel that Jeongguk was skeptical of his own feelings. He was probably thinking that it was impossible for him to fall in love with you with just a few months.

But you see, that was how the soulmate bond worked. It made the impossible possible.

"I know it's hard to suddenly believe into something especially when all your life, you ignored and denied the existence of it."

Jeongguk only pursed his lips into a thin line.

Red continued.

"You feel guilty for trying to unlearn what you believe is a myth, but it's okay, Jeongguk. It's okay to let me go. You aren't cheating. Your feelings simply changed. Don't let our memories together ruin what your heart truly wants."

Confusion was eating him alive again.

"H-How do you know all of this?" He asked softly, making Red chuckle.

"Why do you think it took me so long to tell you that I found my soulmate, huh?"

Jeongguk shook his head. He honestly had no idea.

"It’s because I also went through this, Guk. It took me months to finally admit the truth to you since I was so guilty. We have been together for almost a decade and I feel like it would be such a waste to just let you go, but the heart wants what it wants. It's so much easier to just let things go."

Jeongguk grimaced. He regretted being an ass to Red when they broke up. If he only knew that it was this hard to be in denial...

"But don't get me wrong, okay? Letting go doesn't mean that you have to completely erase your memories with people. I still treasure the moments we spent together and I love you, Jeongguk—not in a romantic way, but I will always love you."

He was his first love, his first friend. Jeongguk had always been there for her. She knew he truly loved her.

As Red talked about their memories together, Jeongguk then started to reminisce the moments he had with you.

It was weird.

Weird that your memories together were not even half as many as the moments he spent with Red, yet all that's on his mind was you.

This was what terrified Jeongguk. You barely spent time together, but what he felt for you was strong—too strong that it defeated his ten years with Red.

"I don't know what to do," Jeongguk choked out a sob. It's annoying because Red was laughing.

"You poor bunny. I wish I could tell you how I did it, but you have to figure this on your own." This was the last thing she said before leaving Jeongguk alone.

Alone with his treacherous thoughts.

He kept playing the conversation he had with Red, making him realize that his own thoughts was the one making this hard for him.

Red was wrong.

Jeongguk wasn't confused.

He knew exactly what he felt for you.

He was just too much of a coward to admit it.

He never learned.

The six months he spent away from you should have served as a lesson by now, but no. Here he was, still ignoring the ache in his chest.

Jeongguk regretted leaving you months ago. He had to admit that it wasn't instant though.

That's the thing about regret. It came into a beautiful form—a disguise telling him that this was what he wanted even though he knew deep down that it was not.

He hated himself because of this. There were many warning signs from other people. He had heard so many times that regret was a two-faced bitch. It felt good at first, making him feel like he was floating because he was finally free.

But then it would come back to haunt him—to drown him with what ifs and I should have—to suffocate him until he couldn't breathe anymore.

Jeongguk hated himself because of this. Why couldn't he be like others? He envied those people who could express their feelings in the right way. Those people who knew how to dodge regret.

He wasn't like them. He got overwhelmed too quickly—causing him to panic and do stupid things.

But really. What was his way of expressing himself? How could he ease the doubts in his head?

What kind of outlet would serve as his way to be able to express the heaviness in his chest?

Jeongguk could only think about one thing.

He went to his art room. There was too much space in this house, but his loneliness still couldn't fit.

Everything in this room was sad. The easel looked sad, the palette looked sad, his blank canvas looked sad.

It was sad that he couldn't find the will to paint anymore.

What was the use of seeing colors when he couldn't do what he loved? What was the used of seeing colors when he couldn't see the color in your eyes?

Jeongguk's lips trembled as he gripped the brush in his hand.

He really couldn't do it.

Maybe he should look at his previous works to get inspiration?

Yeah. That's probably the best thing to do...

Jeongguk brought out the box full of the things you had bought for him.

It had been half a year since he touched these materials. He couldn't bring himself to even look at this before. It reminded him so much of you.

Jeongguk let out a shaky breath.

The box was overloading with art. The months he spent with you caused him to produce these lovely sketches.

He smiled while looking at the pile of sticky notes on the floor. These were the ones he drew when he was overwhelmed with colors.

Sketching was much simpler. It calmed his raging emotions.

Jeongguk started to absentmindedly piece together the pictures in the sticky notes drawn by him.

"Holy shit," his eyes suddenly dilated upon realizing that these tiny sketches made up a larger picture of your eyes when they were put together—similar to a puzzle.

Jeongguk's blood was rushing. It was as if he was slapped by reality.

The larger picture was your eyes, the small ones that were drawn in each sticky notes were every tiny detail about you: your mouth, your neck, your fingers, and everything in between.

This was it.

This was his way of expressing feelings.

His lips lie, but his artworks tell.

Jeongguk understood now what Red was implying. She was right. No one could help him, not even the love you claimed you felt for him.

This was all on Jeongguk. He realized that he had to admit it himself that he loved you, that he wanted to be with you, and that he believed in soulmates because he wanted to and not because other people force him to do so.

Realization was the complete opposite of regret. The latter was slow, the former was instant. It would hit you when you least expected it.

Jeongguk was certain.

His doubts were cleared because he knew you could see colors now.

You should be able to see with flashing colors and light, so why weren't you?

"J-Jimin?" You whispered, uncertain, unstable, and unhappy.

You were surrounded by negative prefix that was making him feel sick.

When Jeongguk found out that he loved you, he imagined begging for forgiveness at your feet— telling you how much of an idiot he was and that he was willing to take whatever you could give—no, scratch that. You didn't have to give anything at all.

It was his time to show you how much you meant to him.

This was why Jeongguk texted you, asking you to meet him. When you didn't answer, he was forced to call you.

Unfamiliar voice welcomed him to bring the terrible news.

The person on the other line told him that you were in a hospital. Your car crashed because you were driving under the influence of alcohol.

Jeongguk didn't know what to do after knowing this information. He was out of his mind. It was a miracle that he was able to reach the hospital in one piece.

He remembered running like crazy, he was crossing the street even though cars were approaching. He ignored the profanities leaving their mouths.

He just didn't care about anything. He just needed to get to you.

He couldn't get to you—at least not now. The doctors were still treating you. Luckily they told Jeongguk everything. He didn't even need to show his I.D to prove that the two of were related. He only needed to tell them that he was your soulmate.

It's funny how he refused to believe in the idea of soulmate before, but right now, he was using it to beg other people to believe that you were destined to be together.

Jeongguk waited in vain, staring into the space and praying to God he didn't believe in.

Desperation always led people into doing things they never thought they'd ever do.

"You're Jimin, right?" You continued to ask, still unsure.

Jeongguk didn't know how to answer. You were acting strange. Couldn't you tell that it was him who was in front of you now? Was this one of effects of the accident?

"I'm sorry I keep asking," you bit the inside of your cheeks as tears filled your eyes.

Jeongguk was quick to wipe your tears away. His touch was gentle, but you still winced.

Everything about you hurt.

"I can't see you. I-I can't see anything. It's all black..."

Jeongguk's heart sank, his blood running cold.

What did you just say?

"I'm so scared, Jimin-ah. This is different from the colorless world." Your tears were flowing non-stop, similar to the painful sound that kept on hammering your soulmate's chest.

"I feel like I'm going crazy. There's nothing here, it's just darkness sucking me in."

You were quivering in agitation. You felt helpless. It was as though everyone was fully geared up and you're here, naked—just waiting to be taken advantage of.

Being blind made you more vulnerable. You just wished this wasn't forever. The doctors said that there were two probable reasons why you couldn't see.

The first one was because of the accident. They already treated your injuries, but they said you still needed an eye surgery. Apparently, you hit your head when your car crashed. They said you didn't need to worry since this was the most common type of treatment for people experiencing temporary blindness.

Temporary.

You hoped this was temporary. Your heart couldn't take it if the reason why you were blind was because of your tragic fate.

The doctors told you that your blindness might be because of the existence of soulmate. It had come to your learning that the medical world was now considering this myth as a reality.

If this was the case, you were really damned.

"I'm sorry..." Jeongguk blurted out. He couldn't stop crying after knowing what happened to you.

This was not how it was supposed to go. Why was the universe being so cruel to him? Was he wrong? Was breaking from the phase of denial not enough? Was he really your soulmate? But why...why did you turn blind after he finally accepted the love he felt for you? Was it not enough?

Was Jeongguk not enough? Did he hurt you to the point that nothing, not even his love, could bring you back to light?

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry!" Jeongguk wailed, he was aching to touch you, but he was scared to cause you pain.

He caused you pain.

He would always cause you pain.

This was evident when you felt a sharp pang in your chest upon recognizing his voice.

He wasn't Jimin.

You did not pour your heart to Park Jimin.

You told everything to the wrong person.

You made yourself vulnerable in front of Jeon Jeongguk. Again.

"J-Jeongguk?" Your voice was loaded with disappointment and sadness.

He sobbed even harder.

"I-It's me," his voice cracked. "I'm here."

It's me. I'm here. If you were the person you were before, you would probably be rejoicing now.

Jeon Jeongguk was here. You didn't know if he was here because of you or not. In the end, it didn't matter since:  "I'm glad," you said." I'm glad you're here."

You did not sound like you were glad. Not at all. Jeongguk couldn't be mistaken. Your voice was too monotonous to be considered happy. Your expression was impassive it made you look like you had no life.

But you were glad. You're sure of this because at least you didn't have to beg Jimin or any other people to ask Jeongguk to come see you.

He was here so you could already tell him what you had been meaning to.

"I'm sorry, Jeongguk," this was what you meant.

He did not understand.

Why were you saying sorry when he should be the one begging you to take him back?

"I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable so many times. I didn't mean to—"

"Don't say that," he cut you off, but you continued.

This time you were smiling.

"Allow me to," you gulped. "Allow me to so that I could understand why."

What were you saying now?

"I have to apologize and you have to tell me what I did wrong, Jeongguk. You have to tell me what I did to make you hate me this much."

You were crying. The pain was unbearable. It was making you think of the worst case scenario. It was making you imagine things that weren't true. It was making you feel like his hatred towards you was the reason why you couldn't see.

You were blaming him.

You had the right to.

He hurt you so much.

"What did I do to deserve this?" You had been a good person. You weren't hurting anyone consciously. You had been giving everything you had, so why? Why was your soul still bleeding?

"I let you go, Jeongguk. I am letting you go. Can't you do the same? Can't you really let go of the hatred in your heart and just let me live?"

Jeongguk couldn't speak. You were feeding your head with lies.

Jeon Jeongguk did not hate you because Jeon Jeongguk loved you.

He loved you with all of his heart.

"Let me go, Jeongguk."

With his body.

"I don't want to be your soulmate anymore."

And soul.

You did not want to love Jeon Jeongguk.

You loved him. Once. But not this time.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook series #jungkook story #jungkook roommate au #jungkook roommate #jungkook romance #ficswithluv #jungkook fluff #jungkook friends to lovers #jungkook fantasy au #jungkook angst #jungkook soulmate au #jungkook sugar baby au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook e2l #jungkook your eyes tell #your eyes tell

[nighthaikyuu]

heartbreak hours

— synopsis: various scenarios of heartbreak between y/n and haikyuu boys 

— characters included: kuroo, timeskip!oikawa, ushijima, timeskip!atsumu, 

— genres: angst angst angst!

kuroo

watching your best friend who you are in love with, fall in love w someone else

you wouldn’t wish this upon anyone else. 

even your worst enemy. 

you stood there by the gates, biting back the tears that threatened to spill as kenma beside you gave you a look of pity, knowing well that you were trying to put on the bravest face you possibly could. 

you didn’t know how kuroo kept breaking your heart; after what seemed like months, you thought there had been nothing left to break. but clearly that wasn’t the case as you felt the sharp ache in your chest return, watching as his face flushed deeply, leaning in towards the girl who stood in front of him. 

the first time was unlike no other; your body went completely still, the rush of your blood drumming in your ears as your brain slowly comprehended the words that came out of kuroo’s mouth. 

“so guys...remember mina? we did that chem project together? well, I think I kinda like her...” 

eyes widening, your gaze snapped up from your phone to kuroo’s face and oh did you regret it almost immediately. rubbing the back of his neck, he gave you a lopsided grin as a soft blush spread across the boy’s cheeks, a completely rare sight for someone who always appeared so cocky and confident. 

you wondered how kuroo didn’t notice then. just how the light completely left your eyes. just how your face went ghost white, hands trembling at your sides as you sat there, heart shattering piece by piece. 

months later and there you were, an empty shell of who you once used to be. days and weeks went by hearing about mina this! mina that! and every time you listened, despite each word only shoving the knife deeper and deeper into your already bleeding heart. 

but you were tired. 

turning around, you let the tears fall freely, choking back a sob. you felt Kenma’s hand on your back, patting you in soft reassurance yet you only cried harder. 

“w-why couldn’t it have been me?”

oikawa

watching yourself grow distant with your s/o

slowly stirring your coffee with one hand, you stared outside the window as you watched the snow peacefully fall from the sky. bringing the cup to your mouth, you blew gently before taking a small sip, the sweet liquid tricking down your throat. 

a soft ding! broke your trance, your eyes falling on your phone beside you. 

[oikawa_tooru just posted a photo]

pressing your finger to the home button, you click the notification as instagram pulls up. within seconds you were met with a smiling oikawa, his arms wrapped around his teammates as they appeared to be at the beach. looking at the location tag, you realized he was in Brazil. 

what used to bring a soft smile to your face as you’d take in the love of you life, instead you felt a deep sadness wash over you, lips tugging into a frown. 

he hadn’t told you he was going to Brazil. 

clicking the lock button, you turned your phone face down before turning your attention back towards the window as you continued to stare emptily at the streets and the people who inhabited them. 

a certain couple caught your eye. both of them wearing their school uniforms, one you immediately recognized as aoba johsai’s, you watched as they walked hand-in-hand, the girl laughing at something the boy had said. stopping in front of the bus stop, the boy suddenly unwrapped the scarf around his neck before turning to his girlfriend and placing it around hers. face flushing, she looked away shyly before giving him an embarrassed smile, her mouth mouthing a warm thank you. 

tears pricked the corners of your eyes. you wanted to look away, look away from the scene that unfolded before you that so achingly felt familiar; the way their eyes sparkled, fingertips within constant grasp, cheeks a soft flush of red. 

before you knew it, a certain wetness washed over your cheeks as your chest tightened. blinking, you felt the tears escape your eyes as you sat there, still and unmoving. 

by the time you took another sip of your coffee, it had gotten too cold. 

you almost let out a bitter laugh. 

oh, how metaphorical. 

you and oikawa loved like fire. every single second of every single day was filled with so much love, that literally nothing would be able to put it out. 

until he decided to go to argentina. 

the devil in you didn’t want him to go. you wanted him here, to yourself, by your side. but you could never do that to him. so you told him to go for it, you told him you’d be here waiting and supporting him. 

and so he did. 

the both of you tried. but with your studies and his practice, plus the time difference and a million other uncalculated things, daily phone calls became weekly, weekly facetimes became monthly, and coming back home suddenly didn’t seem like it was going to happen. 

and just like that, with nobody to tend to the weakening fire, the heat sizzled out, replaced with a coldness like no other. 

you placed the cup back down, your grip tightening as the bitter taste of the coffee stung your throat. turning back to look at your phone, you reached out to grab it, barely noticing the way your hands shook as they did so. 

pulling up your messages, before you knew it, your fingers began typing a message you knew was long coming. 

[6:27] you: hey tooru, we need to talk. 

ushijima

watching your s/o fall out of love with you

looking down at you shoes, it took every bit of strength in you not to cry. 

turning around, hands trembling at your sides, you simply nodded before weakly whispering, “okay.” 

please leave, I have more important things to do

I have more important things to do....

more important...

the words echoed through your mind as you walked out of the gym, lips trembling as you sniffled. staring up at the sky, you blinked repeatedly, forcing the tears to just go away but as your mind played the words for you like a broken tape recorder, again and again and again. 

the tears only fell faster. 

brushing them away with the back of your hand, you slowly walked back to dorm as the last few weeks played like a painful movie in your head. 

one. 

“do you want to watch a movie, toshi?” you asked him, pushing yourself up with your elbow as you laid across his bed. 

pausing the video on his laptop, he responded shortly, “no, not really.” before clicking play again, his eyes not even once moving away from the screen. 

“oh, okay.” you said dejectedly to yourself, a frown appearing on your face as you realized he didn’t even hear just how upset you sounded. getting up from his bed, you walked over to the door. turning around slightly, you let out a scoff as he continued to watch the video, gaze unwavering. 

two.

frowning, you stared at your messages in disappointment. scrolling through the number of birthday texts you received from several of the other volleyball members, your classmates and relatives, your eyes were only looking for one specific name. 

and it didn’t show up. 

“he probably went to bed early...” you reassured yourself, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach. 

the next morning when you woke up, you grabbed your phone in excitement hoping to see the text message you so earnestly waited for all night, yet the second you clicked on your messages, it looked the same as it did last night. 

nothing. 

three. 

“how was your day today—?” you started when you heard him sigh softly, muttering words under his breath that you couldn’t hear. 

turning your head to look at him, eyes slightly wide, he finally muttered, “let’s just not talk today, okay? I'm not in the mood.” 

“oh...” your brows furrowed in concern, “did something happen—?”

“did you not hear what I just said y/n?” he asked sharply. 

gulping, you nodded before averting your gaze to the ground. 

you didn’t know why it took you so long to realize it. but it finally hit you like a shit ton of bricks, each one breaking your heart into a million little pieces. 

the light you used to see in his eyes whenever he looked at you, had disappeared. 

ushijima changed. 

and so did his love for you. 

atsumu

watching your s/o cheat on you

with a click of the door, you heard him walk inside, his usual endearing words echoing through the room until his eyes fell on you. 

“what’s going on here—?” 

“was I not enough?” you whispered quietly from the couch, your grip on the suitcase handle tightening. 

“wait, what?” 

you closed your eyes together as you took in a shaky breath. the images ran through your mind; her lips on his, his hands on hers, their bodies molded together. 

placing your phone on the coffee table face up, you watched as he walked over to where you were, his confused gaze finally falling on the picture you had pulled up on your phone. 

his eyes widened in horror as the realization dawned upon him, his pupils shaking, “Wait, that’s not what it looks like. I can expla—” 

lifting your hand up, you said coldly, “there is nothing to explain. I'm afraid the pictures do enough of that atsumu.” 

getting up from the couch, you grabbed the suitcase that sat beside you, filled with all the clothes and trinkets that belonged to you that you had thrown together in the little time you had left before Atsumu came back. 

“y/n, please. let’s talk this out—” atsumu pleaded softly, his hand circling your wrist. 

flinching at his touch, you pulled your wrist back before turning to look at the boy before you whose eyes widened as for the first time that night, he really looked at you. 

your bloodshot eyes stared at him in quiet rage, fists tightening at your sides as you struggled to find the words to say. you wanted to cry. you wanted to scream. most of all, you wanted to know why. 

but you knew it would break you. 

“fuck off atsumu.” 

turning back around, you made your way towards the door when you atsumu moved in front of you, blocking your path with his body, “please don’t go. please.”

“move.”

before you could take another step, atsumu wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you to chest, caging you in. 

“atsumu—” you started, voice cracking as the tears you held in slipped past your eyes, staining his shirt as you felt his grip around you tighten. 

no. you couldn't do this. you couldn’t let him do this to you. 

gathering every ounce of strength left in you, you pushed him back. your hand remained on his chest in efforts to create distance between the both of you. looking up, you saw his eyes flood with tears as he stared at you painfully, “y/n, please—” 

“atsumu?” you whisper softly, the boy in front of you nodding furiously, “y-yes? what is it?” 

your hand made its way up to his cheek, cradling his face as your thumb slowly swiped away the tear that had escaped his eyes, your own eyes welling up again. 

“don’t keep overworking yourself, alright? and if you need anything, you know Osamu’s only a call away right?” 

atsumu’s heart stopped, “y/n, what—?”

“mm and I wasn’t able to really get everything so, um, if you can put whatever isn’t yours in a box for me, I’ll have Suna pick them up for me.” 

“y-y/n.” 

“also, stop eating out so much. you know it’s not healthy and you need the right nutrients so you can keep playing volleyball, you understand?”

“y/n! please—!” 

"oh and—” you leaned in, resting your forehead against his. closing your eyes, you pressed your lips to his, the kiss tasting like both of your tears as you pulled away. 

“I hope you’ll be happy.” you whispered, your voice trembling with each word. 

grabbing your suitcase, you stepped out of atsumu’s weak grip before moving past him and towards the door. hand resting on the doorknob, you said your final words, “goodbye atsumu.”

and then you were gone. 

general taglist: @cinnamonrusts @postsfromthe6 @lady-snavely @02hhsailor@killuaking @rae0fsunshine1317 @sugawaaras @voids-universe @yams046@visaintes @simpforsaeko @honeybacon @kuroosbabie @verblueht @captain-janeway

character-specific taglist: @mkkhaikyuu @bluelightningxiii @ushiwakasvball  @findityourselffsworld​

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #kuroo x reader #ushijima x reader #atsumu x reader #oikawa tooru #haikyuu oikawa #Kuroo Tetsurou #haikyuu kuroo #ushijima #ushijima hq #miya atsumu #haikyuu atsumu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #oikawa tooru x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader

[papa-1-rights-activist]

Could you tell us some things about your characters?

thank you so much for this ask :D sorry for such a late response, but ngl i got very excited and started writing shit down as soon as i saw it, but then it turned into an entire essay and i had to cut down a ton of stuff until i decided to write it in a list of some sort kjhgkjfgkfg

currently i have like 11 fan characters in total so i will start with 4 to not infodump too much at a time

and i’ll admit that literally all of these guys were made for shipping purposes, but they all have different personalities and dynamics with canon characters. i’m such a sucker for writing couples, so many things to explore, that’s like my favourite thing ;w;

it got very long so imma put it under the cut \o/ (hopefully it works bc tumblr has been pretty unpredictable lately)

sorry if it’s probably way more than just “some things” but i couldn’t help it, i just love these guys so much and i don’t get to talk about them often u v u

e n j o y ~

imma start with the one you guys are more familiar with

Lucas

one of the cardinals in Ghost’s church

Mexican

in his late 40s (like 46-47)

hardworking, ambitious

pretty composed

huge „your teacher from english class who’s also a dad” energies

his character can be summed up to, as someone has said, „he’d kindly but sternly correct your shitty posture”

currently takes the 3rd place of most „best employee of the month” awards (Copia is 4th at that time)

he and Copia start off as rivals for the 2nd place (bc no one can beat whoever is the 1st)

but wouldn’t you guessed it, they end up dating

Lucas has a fair collection of various rodents, including rats. Actually, he’s the one who infected Copia with love for them. Luc prefers ferrets (that’s a rodent right kjhfgkjgh)

he doesn’t really get angry, but when he does he really goes off

he writes poetry, which is actually very, very bad, but Copia loves it to bits which makes Luc feel validated to write more

because his language is so similar to italian, Lucas can implement a lot of spanish into his conversations with Copia, while the other will reply in italian and they will still understand each other (ofc there are some exceptions that result in miscommunication, but that just makes it all more fun)

Copia shared with him that he’s writing music for his album (even tho he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone) and Lucas was more than happy to help him in the process…which was mostly moral support and a few suggestions.

he loves calling Copia “cariño”, “mi amorcito”, “mi alegría” and other cute names in spanish

once Lucas mentioned he used to play flute and Copia immediately decided to include a flute solo in one of his songs, so Luc could play it. Unfortunately things didn’t go as he planned and he had to change it to sax solo

The thing about Lucas is that Imperator sees him as a threat. She’s been plotting with Copia to get him to papacy for a long time, but in the end she isn’t the one who decides who will be in charge, so Copia has to work hard to deserve it. He was already a hard worker, but unfortunately Lucas works harder. It creates this dillema for Copia, bc on one hand he does want to become Papa and in order to do that he has to get rid off competition. But on the other he loves Lucas and he wants what’s best for him.

(i’ll probably post the pic above in a separate post with other doodles, i just wanted to show sth new and relevant)

Elise & Greg

Imma put these two together bc it’s impossible to talk about one without the other.

they work together in a company that takes art commisions such as paintings & murals and their restorations. They’re both pretty skilled in those departments, except Elise specialises in art restoration while Greg specialises in murals and frescos. And ofc one day they’re hired by the church.

they’re both pretty good at painting (but the thing about restoration is that you don’t have to be a great artist to do that, it has more to do with chemistry tbh)

They live together and have been very good friends for a few years now

they both went through some traumatic events in their lives, but maybe i’ll leave that part for another day (or i’ll leave it in my fanfic they’re from that i need to finish ;w;)

they’re very supportive of each other, but also they like to mess with one another

their chat is filled with horny texts about other people

Elise

34 years old

British

a bit awkward, tends to stutter when nervous

very sweet overall, feels the need to be everyone’s therapist

autistic, which shows mostly through her sensitivity to certain textures

hates onions (bc the texture is awful)

gets very emotional very quickly when she sees cute animals. She will use her baby talk to speak with them (which is sth that Copia does too with his rats and once he catches her doing that as well, he feels less embarrased about it)

Cirrus was the first one from the church to actually talk to her and show her around, making her feel a bit more welcome in an unfamiliar place

she talks through her sleep. A lot. Copia finds it very amusing…and adorable.

she discovers that Papa III has fallen hard for her friend way before he himself realises that, but then she’s also the kind of person to not see her own feelings for someone

she finds working on restoration quite relaxing. It’s sth she can fixate over and do for hours (even tho it’s not recommended)

a bit of a workaholic

another thing she finds relaxing is sitting in a corner somewhere warm and doodling people she sees around the abbey (mostly those she finds attractive lol so mostly Cirrus and Copia)

eventually ends up with Copia and Cirrus in a poly relationship

she also finds Cumulus cute, but the ghoulette isn’t interested in another romantic relationship. the one she has with Cirrus is enough for her.

Elise’s relationship with Copia is basically two dorks trying to impress the other while trying not to be too obvious about it, while her relationship with Cirrus is bisexual equivalent of „shy nerd has a crush on a cool girl leading the cheerleaders squad and shopes she doesn’t know. She knows.”

(had to doodle sth real quick bc i can’t believe that i don’t have a single good pic of him lol)

Greg

37 years old

Polish (bc ofc he is)

pretty stoic, might come off as cold

he gives cute nicknames to people he likes (in polish ofc)

he’s actually pretty cheesy and wholesome, but you wouldn’t know that bc he shows his affection through a language that no one understands (which is what he wants, he doesn’t want others to know he actually cares)

has some trust issues, so it’s harder for him to become friends with people

huge Scorpions fan. no, like really, he’s obsessed and will share his music taste with whoever will listen (which is mostly Eli and Papa III lol)

knows a few words in italian, but mostly those related to art after he’s been studying it for a few years. He doesn’t speak it, but he can read it.

he owns a guitar signed by Kirk Hammett (his musical crush)

he’s the kind of guy who will call the person he likes „my dear”, „my love”, „sweet pea” in his mother language and then tell that person it means „dickhead”, „loser” and „lazy ass”

his stay at the abbey is just laying under the ceiling and doing fresco for most of the day, visiting Elise in her art studio and dealing with Papa’s bullshit

Papa eventually starts coming up to lay beside Greg on the construction and watch him work. They tend to just lay in silence while a mix of Scorpions and ABBA plays from the radio. There’s barely any space for a second person, but Greg would lie if he said he didn’t find it endearing.

one time Greg fell off the construction and broke his leg bc of that dumbass (but it’s his dumbass uwu)

anyway he eventually starts dating Papa III

Papa purrs to Greg in italian and Greg speaks sweet words to him in polish (tho it took him a lot of time to get comfortable with that)

their relationship is your typical „1 brain cell and 1 dumbass” and under certain circumstances simply „2 disastrous dumbasses”

they once burnt down Elise’s apartment on accident and the only things they managed to save were the art supplies and Greg’s guitar

anyway

here are these guys in comparison to their partners in this silly style, bc all the other drawings are outdated ;w;

Melea

45 years old

American

fashion designer commissioned byt the Ghost’s church

huge fan of old rock

for a long time her relationship with Papa III was purely professional. He came to her studio, she took some measurements, they discussed what he would like and then he left and they didn’t see each other until the next meeting to try the outfit on, to make some changes, or for another project.

well that is until she asked him to stop putting his face paint on so he wouldn’t ruin the fabrics

i share this popular headcanon that Papa III is pretty self conscious about his clean face, so it was kind of hard to convince him at first

eventually their sessions became that much more personal because of that

she’s a bit superstitious, believing that some things may cause bad luck

collects crystals with good energy

she’s in a way a modern witch…but it’s not like she tries to be one

knows french fairly well, which allows her to talk to Papa (who also speaks it) when they don’t want others to understand them.

huge mum energy

loooves watching conspiracy theories. Sometimes she will pick one of the more ridiculous ones during her sessions with Papa and will argue and try to convince him it’s true, making it seem like she fully believes it, even if she doesn’t – just to fuck with him

and a few times she actually did convince him. Then had to tell him she wasn’t serious and oh my god the millenials aren’t killing the pillow industry by going vegan

anyway at some point they start dating which eventually leads to them getting married ;w;

her relationship with Papa is very soft and romantic. they have the same energy as Morticia and Gomez in regard of how loving they are to each other

also some chibis of these two bc again, all the other drawings are a bit outdated ;w;

#asks #sweet-marionette #it was so much fun \o/ #my art #ff talk #art talk

[originaldanganronpascenarios]

Can I have a request where the male V3 cast’s fem!s/o went to vacation to America and then two days later, police come to their door come to question them and it was later discovered that someone killed her. 4 months later when it was her funeral she just s h o w s u p . And so she later had to explain her wacky adventure that went from the mafia to curses. Bonus points if she just yells: “OI! I thought I told you not to eat my cake... or did I?”

Sorry but this time I won't fight for bonus points

V3 boys whose fem!s/o went to America for sometime and then days later it was  discovered that someone killed her when it was her funeral she just shows up

Ryoma Hoshi

He didn't mind you going there alone. Like why should he stop you? Ryoma trusted you and knew that you were smart enough to not get yourself in trouble.

But few days later he was informed that someone killed you and he couldn't belive it... Why did world want to take everything from him so badly? He should have come with you... Or at least stop you... But it's too late now... He needs to face reality.

For first week he tried to get over it alone and didn't told any of your friends about it but your family members did knew.

All that time you weren't around he felt empty and didn't smile at all. But can anyone blame him really?

Ryoma didn't move any of your belongings he knew that sooner or later he had to do it but he just didn't not even when your funeral was next week.

When the funeral took place it was quite awkward since your body wasn't found but the killer turned themselves in immediately after committing their crime.

Some people found it wierd since why hold this event without the body? It was more likely to be just a sad party where all your loved ones mourn your death.

That is untill you suddenly walked in. Everyone was surprised and Ryoma didn't knew what to think at that moment.

While everyone gathered into large group hug you were quite confused and when they let you go you asked Ryoma what happened.

So he told you whole story. But to be honest he thought that everything in front of him wasn't real and it was all a dream... Thank God he was wrong he was so wrong and he can't be more happy to be wrong.

When you came home Ryoma asked you what actually happened and where were you entire time? You saw no point in lying to him so you told him what happened.

Gonta Gokuhara

He understood why you were going there without him and of course he will miss you but he doesn't want to hold you back.

So he tried to plan something on your arrival. But other than that he did pretty much what he usually did when you weren't around.

However about 2 days after the police informed him about the incident... And he couldn't belive it...

He felt like his legs were giving up on him and started crying. You were so kind! Why whould anyone do this to you!?

It led him to this point where he didn't knew what to do. Should he tell anyone? What is he going to do without you for good!?

It broke his heart when he thought that he won't ever see your smile again... Won't hear your voice... Nothing will ever be the same...

He decided to distract himself from this brutal reality for a bit and spent some time taking care of his bug friends. But it wasn't enough to cure his broken heart. No matter what he did he couldn't stop crying...

After some time had passed Gonta started thinking more about memories he made with you instead of the fact that he won't be able to build any new.

And when it came to your funeral he was calm. Still extremely sad but calm. All of your friends and family members were there and he talked to them entire event.

That is untill everyone saw a familiar face... It was you!? Gonta was super happy and confused but mainly happy!

He gave you the warmest hug and didn't question what happened for the time being. Gonta told you how much he missed you and you just couldn't help but smile.

Later on you told him about your adventure and he was impressed since what you did was so brave!!!

K1B0

Keebo fully understood why he shouldn't come with you so he didn't question it.

So he often contacted you and accidentally forgot about the timezones- so he did call you while you were sleeping. He didn't do it intentionally tho-

He started worrying when you didn't show any signs of being alive but he thought that you were just having a good time and he should stop worrying.

But when he was informed about your death he could not believe it... It must have been a joke right?

After some time though he believed it and felt like he was about to cry... Right he can't cry...

He wanted to be alone for a while so he ignored every call he received and didn't let anyone inside.

'a while' lasted for about 2 weeks- then he ansvered to all the messages he got but he still was extremely sad.

There wasn't anything specific he did before your funeral. He was doing everything he did before but... You just weren't there...

When everyone gathered he thought about how much he loves you and wished you were alive... Then he felt someone touch his shoulder.

As he turned around he saw you and shouted your name catching all attention. Keebo was extremely glad that you were alive.

He didn't care about people around and asked you what happened.

Kaito Momota

When you told him about going there he let you go on one condition. You HAVE to call him every day.

So when he didn't got a call one day he was getting worried since you didn't ansver his calls either... Maybe you went to sleep early? Maybe your phone battery was dead?

Another day passed and he still didn't hear from you... But he did hear from the police that you were dead.

Kaito couldn't belive it. At first he doubted it but sooner or later he had to acknowledge it...

He tried not to think about it but he couldn't stop no matter how hard he tried.

Entire time between your death and funeral he tried to spend with his friends so he could calm down. But he just couldn't stop thinking about you.

When it was time he didn't understood why there whould be a funeral if there was no body. To be honest he still felt like something was wrong and you were still alive. At least that's what he hoped for.

That's when he looked around and saw you. There was no mistaking it definitely you. At first he was freaking out since he realized you might be a ghost but- it's you.

When you noticed him you ran towards him catching everyone's attention as they didn't knew what to say...

After all you were supposed to be dead! But not like anyone is complaining about the fact that you are alive.

He asked you thousands of questions from what happened to you to where you have been this entire time.

Shuichi Saihara

Shuichi didn't stop you from going there and didn't even thought about it.

When you were gone he missed you but you talked from time to time so it wasn't that bad.

It was bad when he was told that you died though. He became a shut-in and didn't go outside for quite a while untill some of his friends payed him a visit.

They managed to put him together but it didn't change fact that he was constantly thinking about you. In the good way though.

He slowly got over your death but didn't try to forget you. Heck it was last thing he wanted.

After few months he was at your funeral trying not to cry. He needs to stay strong.

But in reality what made him cry wasn't the fact that you were dead it was the fact that you were alive.

Seeing you made him feel much better. And then you explained everything to him.

Rantaro Amami

Rantaro whould love to come there with you but he couldn't. It was mostly around his sisters but he told you to go by yourself.

Every day you made sure to at least text him so he started worrying after you didn't contact him for 3 days...

Then information about your death wasn't a secret. He felt like he was going crazy. Denying it he thought that it was just a nightmare but it wasn't.

He tried to hide all of the despair from his siblings and tried to act like nothing happened. But he abandoned sleep. He couldn't sleep knowing that he won't ever see you again.

And everything was like that until it was your funeral.

But during it he just felt empty... Still he wanted to live for your sake.

However all his thoughts were disturbed when he saw you making grand entrance on your own funeral.

He immediately stood up and ran towards you he hugged you close and didn't let you go for very long time.

Kokichi Ouma

He wanted to go too so he tried to change your mind about going alone. But you couldn't take him and he knew why.

So your plans stayed the same. Still Kokichi often called you in the middle of the night on purpose. It was a little revange but two can play this game.

Either way you stopped responding. He thought you were just annoyed by this so he didn't worry.

That is untill he was informed about your death... He didn't wanted to believe it but it was the truth. But he didn't cry. Instead Kokichi was lost in thought mainly thinking about what you went through together.

Around others Kokichi acted like he usually did to their surprise. But only you could tell it was a lie. Still you weren't there so this doesn't matter.

When months passed it was your funeral already. And everyone was surprised to see your there ALIVE!?

When Kokichi saw you he couldn't tell how he felt but those emotions sure were positive. He asked you what happened and that's when you told him entire story but not in detail.

Korekiyo Shinguji

When you were going on your vacation Korekiyo had planned to do his anthropology work and he focused on his research only- if not the fact that he whould wait for you to contact him and see how were you doing.

However one day he got message from your killer and his heart literally stopped when he saw that message.

He calmed down thinking it was a joke (even though you never joked like this) but then the photo was sent and he didn't knew what to do at this point.

The police took care of it but your body wasn't there when they went to investigate. Still there was your blood on the crime scene.

Korekiyo thought about preforming a seance and that's exactly what he did. There was something odd though... It didn't work. Maybe it was because he was way too far from place of your death? Or maybe there was no death to begin with.

Either way Korekiyo didn't thought that you actually died because there was just too many odds.

But he showed up at your funeral either way. Still he didn't believe that it was happening.

All his thoughts were confirmed when you showed up. He wasn't as surprised as rest of your loved ones. But he was first one to hug you. It was very tight and loving hug even though he thought that you weren't dead part of him thought that he was desperately denying truth.

~Mod Chiaki

#Ryoma Hoshi #Gonta Gokuhara #K1B0 #Keebo #Kiibo #Kaito Momota #Shuichi Saihara #Rantaro Amami #Kokichi Ouma #Korekiyo Shinguji

[ghostbustermelanieking]

phantom weights chapter four

one, two, three

season 11, post my struggle iv. part of my series that i write as i rewatch the x files.

Summary: In the wake of their second encounter, Mulder, Scully, and Jackson reconnect (both by accident and on purpose).

---

Things may have slowed down in Jackson's life, may have seemingly stopped being dangerous, but he still found himself jumpy and paranoid. Still found himself worried about the few people in his life, that they were in danger. He checked the news in and around Farrs Corner every now and then, searching for any crimes popping up near or around where Mulder and Scully lived—they were definitely great for money and things like that, no matter how awkward his encounters with them were, but usefulness wasn't worth getting them or the kid killed. He kept an eye on the nationwide news, looking for any activity similar to the activity of the assassins they'd sent after him, or activity of kids like him. (He'd thought about the little grave in San Diego a lot, the little girl named Emily, wondering if he had more siblings out there like her. The idea frankly made him furious, of more kids like him subject to exploitation, more exploitation of Dana.) He got extraordinarily nervous when there was a series of break-ins two buildings down from him, until it was revealed to be a disgruntled handyman. He used fake names a lot when he was out with friends and played it off as a stupid prank, and he was very careful when meeting Sarah, on the rare times that they met.

His relationship with Sarah was messy, messier than it had been before—which seemed unreal, considering what an asshole he had been. Sometimes, she would say she was too busy to meet him with a rushed text, offering excuses about her pissed-off parents and her suspicious little sister. And she seemed pissed off herself when he insisted on trying to hide. "I want a normal boyfriend," she'd say irritably, "not some fucking shadow who spends all his time hiding." And he would have to struggle not to snap at her, to tell her that he had never been normal. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, to hurt her anymore than he already had. (He was still wracked with guilt over the incident on the Chimera, not to mention the fact that he cheated on her and Bri both. He still felt horrible about all of it, and equally horrible about ghosting Brianna, but her parents were even stricter than Sarah's, if that was possible, and he couldn't stay with them both. He felt guilty for even staying with Sarah, after everything, but he felt like he didn't have a choice. She was one of his last links to his old life, and he couldn't let that go. He was terrified of being alone.)

Sarah seemed constantly pissed off at him now, and not just about the aliases. She seemed on edge the few times they talked on the phone; she was dodging his texts, to the point where he stopped calling and texting. He didn't want to be the jerk anymore. He tried to just enjoy the time that he got with her. But he could sense the tremors in their already fragile relationship, could sense what was coming before it happened, almost like shockwaves in an earthquake. When he got a call from her one day in July, her contact photo a picture of the two of them last New Year's making goofy faces into the camera, it sent a wave of dread through him that probably wasn't supposed to accompany a call from your girlfriend.

He answered anyway. "Hey, babe," he said, trying his hardest to sound cheerful. "What's up?"

She was silent on the other end. He could hear her breathing, uncertain and awkward. And then she said, "Jackson, we have to talk."

He leaned forward, his forehead against the wall of his shitty kitchen. It was totally pathetic, but he suddenly wanted to beg her not to do it, tell her that he needed her to keep him grounded. But he didn't say that. He said in that same falsely cheerful voice, "What it is?"

Sarah took a deep breath. "Look, babe, it's…" There was some clattering, a voice on the other end, and then the sound of her yelling: "It's just someone from school, Mom!" Jackson grimaced at the cacophonous sound. "Sorry," Sarah said softly into the phone. "It's just been crazy since the break-in, we're all crammed into a tiny fucking hotel room, and I'm sitting in the fucking bathtub right now…"

His head shot up, nearly hitting the side of the fridge. "Wait-wait-wait," he blurted, waving a hand like he was scrubbing at the air, trying to scrub away the awful words. "There was a break-in? Somebody broke into your house?"

"Yes," said Sarah, annoyed. "Last weekend, some jackass completely ransacked the place…"

"W-why?" he stammered, cold sweat breaking out on his hands. Goddamnit, he'd been so careful, and it still wasn't enough. How the hell could he do this, not take preventative measures to protect Sarah? "What were they looking for, what did they steal?"

"That doesn't matter, Jackson. Listen…"

"Was it someone looking for me? W-were they coming for you, because of…"

"Jesus, Jackson, no! Not everything is about you," she hissed, trying to be quiet and clearly failing. "Look, I think it's time for us to end this, okay? After the break-in, my parents can't afford to send me to Richmond for expensive music lessons anymore, so there's no way for us to see each other, anyway."

He was dumbfounded, speechless, torn between trying to talk her out of it and supporting it simply for her own protection. What if the burglars had been looking for her, what if they'd only stolen things to cover their tracks? He didn't want to lose anyone else, but if he held on, he might really lose her. And he couldn't force her to stay with him if she didn't want to. "Babe…" he began in a soft voice.

"Look, Jackson, this is the right thing to do. We've both felt it coming. Don't try to tell me you haven't, okay? We've been growing apart for months." He could picture her on the other end, sitting in the tub with her socked feet up on the lip, twirling a curl around one finger as she talked. "It's not fair for us to hold each other back, not when there's other people out there. I hope we can still be friends…"

"Babe, did they catch the guy he robbed your apartment?" he asked, because he was still thinking about it. Even after dumping him, they still might come for her.

Sarah sighed with exasperation. "Seriously? We can't even have a mature conversation?"

"This isn't immature, Sarah!" he snapped, finally losing his composure. "They killed my parents, you know they killed my parents! And they could kill you, too, if they think you're my girlfriend."

"Well, I'm not," she said in a sharp voice. "I'm not your girlfriend anymore."

He winced, his head falling forward again. It was for the best, but he couldn't stand it, he couldn't stand it. "Please," he said softly, "please just tell me if they caught the guy, Sarah, please…"

"They didn't, okay?" she said, and she sounded like she was crying. "I'm sorry about your parents, Jackson. I'm sorry about… all of it. But you can't worry about me anymore. I'm not your concern."

He thumped his head against the wall lightly: once, twice. "Okay," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"You be careful," he told her, suddenly stern. "Be careful, and be safe, and…"

She hung up abruptly, leaving him sitting alone in the dark and the quiet. He let the phone drop on the tile with a clunk. That was it, he thought. Everything from his old life gone, and maybe for the better. Maybe for the better.

He didn't know if he could have contact with anyone now, get close to anyone. And a new thought was building up in the back of his mind: what if they came for the baby? If the baby was around him… what if they came for the baby? What if they came for all three of them, because of him?

(If the baby turned out to be like him, then there might be no protecting the three of them. But he couldn't let anything happen to them and it be his fault. He couldn't risk it. He didn't know what he could do about it, but he knew he couldn't risk it.)

---

Jackson had it decided by the next morning. He would distance himself from his new friends as much as he possibly could, to protect them. And he'd distance himself from Mulder and Scully. It wouldn't be hard, considering what a distance there was between them already, considering how his last encounter with Scully had gone. He would just have to start dodging their calls and making up excuses, to let them down easy, as hard as that would be.

In theory, he could keep them at arm's length, and tell himself determinedly that they were not his parents (because they weren't), but in practice, it was much harder. He was connected to them in a way he never had been to anyone else, and he could always feel the waves of their emotion when he talked to them: their guilt, their grief, their caring, their earnest hope. It was hard to turn that away. He thought that it might've been easier if they were assholes, but they didn't seem to be assholes. They seemed to genuinely care.

But he knew that he had to start being more careful, for everyone's own safety if nothing else. It was decided the night Sarah dumped him; he had to do this, and so he was going to do it, and do it right. He was going to start first thing the next day.

Within a few days of barely talking to his friends and not talking to his birth parents, though, there was already a hitch in that plan. Jackson's landlord showed up at his door and informed him that the apartment building was being fumigated this week. "We have an infestation of cockroaches on your floor, and we don't know how extensive it is," he said. "Do you have anywhere else to stay this weekend, William?"

Jackson winced automatically when the landlord called him that. It'd been dumb to sign the lease William, both because it was kind of an asshole move towards Mulder and Scully, and because he could barely stand to be called it. (He flinched every time the landlord called him that, to the point where he suggested a nickname. "Do you go by Will? Bill? Billy?" he'd asked, and that'd only made things worse, because it made Jackson think about that blog entry he'd written a while back where he called himself Billy. At the time, he'd done it just to distance himself from one of the stranger episodes in his shitty life, make it feel like it happened to someone else; he'd had no idea his name used to be William.) "Uh, I guess I can find somewhere," he said. "I have to be gone the whole weekend?"

"Just Friday to Sunday," said the landlord. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience. You think you'll be okay with somewhere to stay?"

Jackson rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'll be good," he said, which might've been a lie. He couldn't stay with Mulder and Scully for obvious reasons, and he didn't want to risk staying with any of his friends. He could probably get a hotel, albeit a cheap one. "Thanks for letting me know."

---

Jackson had to work several shifts right on top of each other the next couple days, to the point where he actually forgot to book a hotel. By the time he got off at the warehouse, he was ready to just find a hotel room and watch mindless cable for hours. Maybe order a pizza. He was sitting in his car with a hastily packed bag in the backseat, googling cheap hotels, when he got the phone call. It was Scully's cell number, put in his phone as Dana, despite the fact that he only ever called the house phone.

Jackson stared at the phone mutely for a moment, helpless in not knowing what to do. He knew he shouldn't pick up, but he didn't want to alienate them suddenly without any word, as tempting as that was. They'd done a lot of nice things for him. They didn't deserve that. But he couldn't talk to them and give them the expectation that there'd be more, not when he swore he would leave them out of it. For their sake and for the kid's.

The phone lay like a lifeless thing in his hand as it rang, the blank gray square he had instead of a contact photo taunting him. He was ready to hang up, but somehow, he lifted the phone and answered it instead. "Hello?"

"Jackson?" she said on the other end. "Hi, it's Dana."

"I know," he said without thinking, and was surprised to hear her uproarious laugh on the other end. A corner of his mouth turned up unconsciously. "What's up?" he asked quickly, hoping to get the conversation to go along quickly.

"Oh, I just wanted to call and check in," she said. "See how you were doing. We haven't talked in a while."

"I guess we haven't," said Jackson. There was a long, lengthy silence before he added lamely, "I'm all right. I'm… I'm headed to a hotel, I think. My apartment is being fumigated."

"Really? A fumigation? Did they say why?"

"Roaches," he offered.

Scully made a sound of disgust on the other end. "Remind me and I'll tell you someday about a case Mulder and I had with cockroaches," she said. "Have you paid for your hotel yet?"

Taken aback, he said, "Uh, no, not yet." He didn't realize what she was going to suggest until the words left his mouth, and he immediately winced. He should've lied and said he had. He shouldn't have brought up the goddamn fumigation at all.

"Sweetie, there's no point in you getting a hotel… why don't you just come stay with us for the weekend? Do you have work?"

"No." He was beginning to regret taking the phone call. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

"Why don't you come down? There's no point in you spending all that money on a hotel," she said gently.

He was going to say no. He told himself he had to say no. He didn't think he could stand an entire weekend with them, considering the way their past interactions had gone. And he was still afraid that people were still looking for him, that they'd hurt Mulder and Scully and the kid if they found him. He had to say no. He would go to a hotel, like he said he would originally.

But he started thinking about the money. He didn't have an abundance of it in the first place to spend on a hotel and meals. And he was thinking about lunch with Dana, her face when he said that he didn't know they wanted kids. Thinking about the money they'd given him, the furniture. Thinking about what an ass they must see him as, trying to wriggle out of seeing them, spending time with them. He couldn't stay in their lives, but he couldn't cut them off completely. Not without a word.

(If they were in danger, wasn't it better that he know for sure? He could look for signs. And besides, if the kid was anything like him, than they might be in danger already. It might not matter what he did.)

"Jackson?" Scully's voice was gentle, and maybe a little worried, on the other end. "You okay?"

He cleared his throat, thumping his forehead against the steering wheel. "Um, yeah," he said with a sigh. "Yeah, I'll come down."

He was just doing it because he didn't want to sit in a shitty hotel all week. That was it. That was it. That would be the end of it.

---

Mulder had been out at the store when Scully made the phone call to their son, and when he returned, she explained what had happened, that Jackson was heading their way. "Scully, that's great!" he said, seizing her hands in his and squeezing. She managed a wobbly smile of her own, and he recognized her apprehension immediately. "Are you still worried about what happened last time?" he added gently.

"Maybe a little bit," she said softly. "I just don't want things to go badly. I don't want to hurt him again."

"I know." He leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "Look at it this way," he said softly. "I don't think he'd agree to come here for the weekend if things were really bad."

She sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder, a hand on her stomach. "Or he's coming so he can get more money out of us," she mumbled. "There's always that."

He shrugged. He rested his chin on the top of her head. "Whatever the reason," he told her gently, "he is coming here. And that's something, no matter what."

She smiled, just a little, her eyes fluttering closed. Their hands were still together between them, his knuckles against her stomach, and he could feel the light, light  movements happening beneath the surface. "How's she doing in there?" he whispered.

She shook her head a little in disapproval, but he could see that she was still smiling. "You don't know it's a she," she told him firmly, but she squeezed his hands again. "Active. Restless. I know it's your child just because she won't relax."

"You say that as if it's a trait she's just inherited from me," he said teasingly, and she looked at him squintingly. He rubbed a hand over her lower back, which was frequently aching nowadays. "You're as bad as I am, honey. This kid is never going to relax."

"Mmm," she said in a soft, sleepy voice. She leaned into him again; he dug his fingers against her back, and she made a small sound of appreciation. "We should get some pizza," she added in a husky voice. "For Jackson."

He smiled. "You're right," he said softly. "We should."

---

Jackson arrived long after dark, the screened door swinging open with his arrival. He scanned the room in a nervous animal sort of manner before landing upon where they were sitting on the couch, Scully asleep on Mulder's shoulder. "Uh, hi," he said with a sheepish sort of smile.

Mulder smiled, too, a broad, involuntary one. He hadn't really realized how much he had missed his son until just now. He had just remembered that he hadn't seen Jackson in person since they helped him move in. "Hey, Jackson," he said softly. "It's good to see you. There's pizza in the oven if you're hungry."

"Thanks," Jackson said with a nervous little laugh. "I, uh, I ate something on the way here, but I'm already hungry again."

Mulder laughed at that. "Help yourself," he said, rubbing a hand over Scully's arm. He was debating whether or not to just wake her up, or to try and move without waking her up.

Jackson walked past them towards the kitchen, freezing a little in his tracks near the couch. "She's okay, right?" he asked, motioning to Scully.

Mulder startled a little, looking down at his wife and then back at their son. "Yeah, s-she's fine," he said quickly. "Sleepy. The pregnancy has been kind of rough on her." He winced a little that; he hadn't meant to mention it.

"I can, uh, imagine," Jackson said quickly, his hands in his pockets. He cleared his throat loudly before continuing to the kitchen.

Mulder cleared his own throat and leaned down, brushing his fingers over Scully's cheek. "Scully," he whispered. The oven door opened and closed. "Jackson's here."

She stirred gingerly, her eyes opening foggily. "Jackson?" she whispered, and he nodded. She sat up with effort, his hand on her back as he helped her, and turned to Jackson as he reentered the room, a droopy slice of pizza in hand. "Hey," she said warmly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Hi, Dana." He offered an awkward little wave with the pizza-free hand. "Thank you for offering me a place to stay."

"Of course, sweetie." She rubbed at her eyes sleepily as she got to her feet. "You're always welcome here."

"Do you want anything to drink?" Mulder added, heading for the kitchen himself to get Scully a glass of water. "We've got some soda, some juice… water…"

His eyebrows raised a bit. "Soda would be good," he said with a stifled yawn. "I'm pretty exhausted, actually. Long day. Long drive."

"Do you want us to show you the guest room?" Scully asked gently, with a yawn of her own. "You should make yourself at home."

He shrugged sleepily, opening the fridge and taking out a can of Dr. Pepper. "Yeah, sure. I've gotten into the habit of sleeping on the couch, I need to work on breaking it."

Mulder felt, rather than heard, Scully's intake of breath, and knew she was thinking of him years and years ago. He'd been thinking of that himself. He gave a little laugh and said, "I've been in that habit, kid. Not a bad one to break."

"For sure." He rubbed at the back of his neck, taking a sip of his soda.

Scully cleared her throat, taking the water cup Mulder offered. "The room's upstairs, whenever you're ready," she said, taking a sip, bumping her arm against Mulder's in thanks.

"We can go right now." Jackson retrieved a plate from the cabinet as if he'd been living there for years, piling a couple slices on and grabbing the soda can before turning to them expectantly. It wasn't the healthiest bedtime snack, but Mulder didn't feel as if he had the paternal authority to say anything. (And he knew his eating habits weren't much better anyway.)

Scully led the two of them upstairs, up the book-laden stairs and down the hall. Over his shoulder, Mulder saw Jackson taking everything out in interest, and realized suddenly that he had never been upstairs before. Only in the downstairs. They went past the baby's room, which Jackson glanced at with a hint of apprehension, and into the room they'd been putting together for him.

Scully flipped on the light when they entered, and Daggoo, who had pretty strange habits for a dog and loved to sleep in there, rose from his favorite perch on the bed and yipped excitedly. Jackson grinned.

"Sorry about him," Scully said with an absent wave. "He loves it in here, but you can kick him out if you want."

"No, no, that's cool. I love dogs." Jackson flopped down on the bed and scratched Daggoo's head as he wriggled and whimpered with excitement. "My mom was allergic," he said wistfully, "so we weren't ever able to have a dog."

Scully smiled, too. Mulder offered, "Scully here has always been a big fan of dogs. She actually stole this one."

Scully chuckled low in her throat and shook her head disapprovingly. Jackson looked up in surprise. "Seriously?"

"We were on a case," Scully explained in a deadpan. "I caught a serial killer who worked in an animal shelter. I just fell in love with Daggoo, and the whole place was in disarray. I didn't think we had time to stay in town so I could go through the adoption process."

"That's what she wants you to think," Mulder told Jackson. "Secretly, I think she's just a ruthless dog thief."

He snorted with quiet laughter as Scully elbowed him lightly in the side. Daggoo, perhaps sensing he was the subject of discussion, came over to greet Scully. Jackson began to survey the room, his eyes lingering over the books and movies on the shelf, the little TV adjacent to the bed. To the dresser, where they paused on a floppy stuffed bunny sitting on the dresser. Mulder froze a little when he saw it himself; he recognized that bunny. He hadn't known that they'd still had that bunny. He hadn't known that Scully had put it in here.  

"What's that?" Jackson asked, his voice sounding purposefully light. "Something for the kid?"

Scully took a deep, gentle breath. "Actually, it was yours."

Jackson jolted, just a little, his shoulders tight. "Really?" he said quietly.

"Really," she said. "My mother—your grandmother—she bought it for you. You loved it; you wanted to take it everywhere." She laughed softly, fondly. "You loved to chew on its ears," she added. "You slept with it every night."

Her words hit Mulder square in the chest; he hadn't seen any of that, and it still ached to this day. He had missed out on so much. He'd seen Scully sleep with the rabbit curled under one arm when they were on the run, desperate and grieving, but he had never seen it with their son. And now here it was again, when Jackson was too old for anything like that and clearly didn't have any interest in it. He forced a smile, pretending that his chest wasn't tight with grief.

Jackson was still looking at the blue rabbit, his face unreadable. "That's cool," he said in a husky voice. "Cool bunny." He looked over at them, halfway curious. "W-where does your mom live? Do you see her a lot?"

Scully smiled sadly. "No, unfortunately she passed away a couple years ago."

"Oh. I'm really sorry," he said immediately, solemnly. He looked down at his hands, at Daggoo on the bed, looking between them with interest. Mulder wasn't sure what to do, to say.

"Thank you," Scully said softly, her voice faltering a little. "She… I miss her a lot, but she lived a good life."

Jackson nodded, stiffly. He yawned again, in a purposeful manner, and said, "I, uh, I think I'm going to bed."

"Okay," Mulder said, offering what was meant to be a reassuring shrug. "There's food in the fridge, and the bathroom is at the bottom of the stairs. First door to the left in the downstairs hall."

"We can take Daggoo if you want," Scully offered.

"Nah, he can stay." Jackson reached out to scratch the underside of Daggoo's belly, who panted happily. "The room looks good, by the way," he added. "Really cool." As if he'd known that they fixed it up for him—which, Mulder realized, he probably had.

"We're glad you like it," Scully replied. Her hand was against Mulder's wrist, as if she wanted to take his hand, but didn't want to do so in front of Jackson. "Good night," she added warmly.

"We'll be down the hall if you need us," Mulder added, as if he was a small child who might have nightmares. As if it was a normal night, and they were tucking him into bed, and they'd see him in the morning. (And they would; they would see him in the morning, unless he snuck out during the night for some reason.)

"Okay." Jackson was focused on the dog, semi-wrestling with him. He didn't look up as they exited, but he called up a muted, "Thanks."

Back in their bedroom, Mulder suddenly felt weak, limp and small, and he pulled Scully to him in a fierce hug. Her arms went around him immediately, unable to envelop him completely, but still holding tightly, clutching at the back of his shirt. "Hey," she whispered softly. "You okay?"

He nodded, his throat thick. He had missed out on so much. He had missed out on so much, and here was an opportunity to not miss out on things, but he would still never get that time with William. He had left them, and he had lost so much.

He was saying it before he could really even think about it: "I'm so sorry I left."

Scully shook her head immediately. She let go of him and stepped back, tipping up his chin slightly so he'd meet her eyes. "Mulder," she whispered gently, "you didn't have a choice. It was the only way to save yourself."

They'd fought about this a thousand times, each taking different perspectives and going back and forth on different things, but Mulder was sure in this moment that it was his fault and solely his fault. He tried to apologize again, and Scully shook her head. "Mulder, we have to stop living in the past and digging up these old issues," she said. "What's done is done. We can't do anything about it now." She reached up to touch the side of his face gently. "He's here now," she whispered. "We have a chance to get to know him. It's not exactly starting over, but it is something."

He nodded, his eyes growing wet. He engulfed her in his arms again, kissing the top of her head. "You're right," he said softly. "It's just… hard not to linger over the things I've done wrong. My regrets."

"Believe me, I know." She kissed the underside of his jaw. "It's going to be okay," she told him, and she sounded a little uncertain, but he could feel the reassurance in her voice.

He nodded against the top of her head. He felt the baby kicking and smiled absently. "You think you'll be able to sleep with the kiddo being restless in there?" he joked.

She poked him firmly in the arm. "I do it every night, Mulder." She kissed him softly, giving his elbow a small tug. "C'mon," she said with a yawn, "let's go to bed, okay?"

They climbed into bed together, her curling at his front so he could provide some support for her back. He put his lips to the back of her head, his hand to her belly, and tried to relax. But his mind kept returning to their son, in the bedroom down the hall. Wondering if he was okay, if he had nightmares the way they did. He heard footsteps on the stairs, he heard the bathroom door creak. He hoped that he would still be there when they woke up. He wanted more than anything to get to know his son.

---

Jackson slept until noon on Saturday. Not even on purpose, or as an avoidance tactic; he was exhausted. He hadn't been getting many chances to sleep in until noon lately, what with work and being on the run. He slept like a rock, after admittedly staying up half the night watching cable, and when he woke up to sunlight streaming into the unfamiliar room, he briefly forgot where he was.

He panicked, briefly, kicking at the covers as he instinctively bolted up in bed, but his eyes fell on the blue rabbit on the dresser as they jerked frantically around the room, and that snapped him out of it. He let out a heavy sigh, flopping limply back on the bed.

After a few minutes (and after he realized both what time it was and how hungry it was), it seemed silly to just lie here and pretend he was anywhere else. It's not like he could do that all weekend, hide upstairs and only come out at night like some bastardized vampire. If he was going to do this, and make this the last time, he had to do it right.

So he forced himself out of bed and staggered downstairs, realizing just as he hit the bottom stair that he'd forgotten to pack anything sensible, like a hairbrush or a toothbrush or a change of clothes. Dana was on the couch, a book in hand, but she had looked up when she heard him coming down. "Good morning," she said with a calm sort of pleasantness. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Uh huh," Jackson said, his voice wavering a little bit. His eyes jerked around the room, from the couch to the kitchen table, where Mulder was sitting with a laptop, to the front door, where he had kicked off his sneakers the night before. "I'm, uh, I'm going for a run," he said. He needed to breathe for a moment, needed to clear his head. He went for the door and yanked them on, pulling open the door and blinking in the bright sunlight. He inhale deeply and took off, dust road from the driveway stirred up by his shoes.

The run felt good. His birth parents lived out in the middle of fucking nowhere, and it was the perfect place to just run. He ran harder, harder than he probably should, until his chest ached with the strain of running and he was gasping for air.

Running did clear his head. It gave him time to think. Reminded him what he needed to do, the reason why it was good that Sarah dumped him. People might still be looking for him. People might come for Mulder and Scully and their kid. He'd told himself that he was going to try and last the weekend, but being alone out in the country made him too tense, gave him too much time to get paranoid about all the shitty stuff that could happen. He tensed up every time a car went by.

He was honestly ready to leave just on the basis of it seeming too dangerous for him to be there (and also, honestly, because it was awkward as hell, and he didn't want to be in that house, surrounded by reminders of the childhood he didn't have and the family that wasn't his). But when he got back to the house, he was out of breath and coated in sweat. He felt a little like collapsing on the spot. He thought to himself, vaguely, as he leaned against a pillar on the porch, Okay, so I won't leave this exact second.

When he staggered through the door, he found Mulder and Scully on the couch, watching some movie. It sounded sci-fi esque, with lots of hissing sounds and canned screams coming from the television. Something Jackson might've liked years ago. When Mulder saw him come in, he tossed him a water bottle, damp with condensation from the freezer. "I'm guessing you'll need this," he said.

Jackson caught it, a little stunned and not sure why. "Thanks," he said.

"Don't drink too fast," Dana offered mildly, and it was then that Jackson remembered that she was a doctor. It was the thing he had known about her before he'd known almost anything else: Ginger was a doctor. It'd been strangely comforting as a child, in that dinky little hospital where he'd essentially been kept prisoner as a child; he had lain in bed, curled up under the covers, sucking his thumb like a baby for comfort, and he'd closed his eyes and seen her. Ginger, helping children like him, being kind and caring and everything the doctors there weren't, and he'd thought, She wouldn't do this to me. She'd take care of me for real. She'd get me out of here.

(His own mom had been the one to get him out. He'd been in for six months, and they'd been unable to tell his parents what was even wrong with him. He was scared to tell his parents what the doctors were doing to him; one of the nurses whispered that if he wasn't good and didn't kept things a secret, he might not ever get to go home. When the doctors tried to stop his mom and dad from visiting, that was the final straw. His mom had gotten lawyers and threatened a lawsuit, and gotten him out, and they'd moved to the East Coast, far away from the people who had done this to him. Ginger had never come, no matter how much he hoped she would.)

"Okay," Jackson mumbled, unscrewing the lid and taking several grateful gulps. He flopped down in a chair, exhausted, turning his face vaguely towards the TV. It was some kind of monster movie, incredibly cheesy-looking.

He didn't mean to stay and watch it, but he did. He just did. He didn't move from the chair, and the three of them watched three movies without even thinking about it.

Towards the end of the third movie, Jackson went into the kitchen to retrieve a soda. Almost as soon as he stood up, he was thinking about leaving. Wondering if he was wondering out of time to save them all. Wondering if he was being overly paranoid, jumpy and ridiculous. Wondering about the kid, if it didn't matter what he did because they'd come for the kid if they didn't come for him. Wondering if there was even anyone out there to come for either of them.

On the front of the fridge, there was an ultrasound picture. The same one that was there last night. Beside it, one he hadn't noticed: a younger Mulder and Scully, lying sprawled out on a bed asleep. A baby between them, cradled on Mulder's chest, Scully's hand on his back, fingers in his mouth, wearing a little blue onesie. Him, he realized, and bit his lip. He yanked open the fridge too hard and grabbed a Coke. As the door closed back, he caught a glimpse of the ultrasound all over again. My sibling, he thought involuntarily, and was stunned to feel something at the back of his mind. A little push, a presence.

"Find everything okay?" Scully asked when he re-entered. They were trying so hard to be casual—she was pretending to watch the TV, but she was watching him. He could tell.

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat awkwardly and flopping back in his chair. It was an impulse, what he said next; he was thinking about the little push he'd felt, and the picture, and the conversation he and Dana had last time, and he just said it. "You guys got any name ideas for the kid?"

They both looked up in surprise, like it was the last thing they expected him to say. On the screen, a werewolf growled ominously.

Mulder was the first to recover. "We don't know," he said. "We've had some ideas, but nothing feels right."

"Do you, uh…" Jackson cleared his throat awkwardly. "Do you know the sex yet?"

"Not yet," said Ginger, and she had a small, absent smile on her face. "Mulder insists it's a girl, though." Mulder shrugged sheepishly.

Jackson swallowed awkwardly. "Well, either way, you can't go wrong with Fox, right?" he joked, trying to keep his voice light.

It worked. Mulder and Scully both burst into laughter at that, Scully laughing so hard he could hardly believe it. "Low blow, kid," Mulder said, wrapping an arm around Scully's shoulders. "Low blow. But thanks for the suggestion."

Jackson gave a little chuckle of his own. He felt a rush of relief, at just not saying something wrong for once. "Or Lily," he offered, speaking before he could think again. "Lily's cool. If you're digging for options."

He didn't know why he said that. He didn't know why he said that, except for that it was the name he and his mother had liked when his parents were trying to adopt when he was eight. His mom had suggested it, and it'd been his favorite option for a girl, insisting on it even after they'd moved onto other names. But he didn't know why he'd said that now. He hadn't thought about having a little sister named Lily in years, and he didn't know why he was suggesting it now. It felt like his parents' name to use, not theirs. But he had said it, for whatever reason.

Mulder and Scully exchanged a look, a loaded look. "That's pretty," Scully offered. "I like it."

"Yeah," Jackson said, flopping back in his chair. He'd intended to make some more name suggestions, more jokes, but he found he couldn't. He popped open his soda, turned his attention back to the TV. "Fox might be the better option, though," he threw out gingerly. They chuckled from behind him, again, but he could barely hear it. He watched the werewolf tear through the woods, claws drawn.

---

After dinner, Jackson retreated out to the porch. He seemed jittery while they ate, which was more than expected, but the speedy retreat still stung a little. Scully bit her lip when the door shut hard behind him; Mulder saw it, even across the table.

"We could go out with him," Mulder offered as they loaded the dishwasher. It was a nice night, not too hot, the sky streaked pink and orange from the setting sun.  

Scully shook her head, her hands buried in soapy water. "I don't want to put pressure on him," she said, which he knew she'd been trying hard not to do all day. "I want to leave him be. We've had time with him today."

He slipped a plate into the bottom drawer, stepped behind her and engulfed her in his arms. He felt the baby moving under his fingers. "I love you," he said into the back of her neck.

She slipped her sudsy hands down to intertwine her fingers with his. "I love you," she whispered, and he squeezed her tight. She rubbed the back of his left hand with her damp thumb. "We're gonna be okay," she said quietly. They'd been saying that a lot since this all ended, but this was possibly the most confident he'd heard her about it. She turned in his arms and kissed him, her wet palms on his cheeks. They stood together in the midst of their kitchen, pressed together before the sink and the sinking sun.

Later, after Scully had gone upstairs to bed, Jackson was still outside. Mulder could hear the creak of the porch swing through the open windows. He'd been planning to have a beer inside, at the table, but in the split second of hearing that swing creak, he changed his mind. He wanted a few minutes alone with his son. And besides, he did usually have a beer outside rather than in, so he had a good excuse if Jackson asked.

(He considered, briefly, taking a beer out for Jackson, but then decided that it would be nothing but a blatant bribe, and probably not a very paternal move. And Scully would be furious, anyway.)

He took his beer bottle and went outside, towards one of the chairs adjacent to the swing. "Mind if I join you?" he asked his son, who shrugged and continued moving the swing with the toe of his ratty tennis shoes. Mulder sunk into a chair, popping the bottle open. He saw Jackson eyeing the beer wistfully, and pretended he didn't notice, taking a long sip. The swing rocked back and forth.

"Nice night," Mulder said after a few moments. He could hear the crickets chirping in the dusk, feel a slight breeze blowing. It was the kind of night he used to love to sit outside with Scully during, the kind of night he hoped he could look forward to for the rest of his life.

"It is," Jackson said softly, pushing off the porch again. He took a deep breath. "I've missed quiet nights like this. When I was little, we used to live on a farm in Wyoming. I don't remember it too well, but I remember I liked it. And I loved going to visit my grandmother."

"Not a lot of quiet nights in Norfolk?"

"Definitely not." He sighed quietly, leaning back on the slatted swing. "It's nice out here," he said quietly.

Mulder watched him in the dimming light. He couldn't help it. Every moment with him felt like a blessing. Scully kept saying that Jackson looked like him, but he couldn't see it. Looking at Jackson, he just saw his own family, his mother and his sister and Scully. It was hard to look away, to not linger over all of the things they had missed out on. He could imagine a multitude of nights like this with his son, instead of acknowledging that this was the first one. But it might not be the last. He took a swig of his beer and sighed himself, looking out over the fields instead of at his son. "We're glad you're here," he said quietly. "Your mother… Dana and I… we're both so glad you're here, and that you're safe." They'd been so close to losing him; he remembered his horror clearly, his grief, when he thought they'd lost him. He chewed at his lower lip, unsure of what to say, but knowing that he couldn't not say it. It was the same reason Scully told him how much she'd missed him and regretted giving him up every time she saw him: he needed him to know.

The swing squeaked abruptly, harshly to a stop. "Right," Jackson said in a strangled voice.

Mulder tipped the bottle up with a clammy palm and looked at his son. His head was dipped forward, his hair hanging in his face. He couldn't read his expression in the dimming light. "Mulder?" he said softly, rubbing at his mouth hard with one hand.

It threw Mulder off; he couldn't remember if his son had ever addressed him directly. It was overwhelming to hear Jackson say his name, as much as he wished he'd said Dad instead. "Yeah?" he replied, biting back the urge to tack son on the end.

"Do you… do you think…" He broke off mid-sentence. "Those people, the ones chasing me… they came after your family, right?"

The question took Mulder aback, but it wasn't necessarily unexpected. He wasn't surprised that Jackson was shaken after his months on the run, after being pursued for months and having his parents murdered and being shot in the goddamn head. He should've expected Jackson to have questions about where this bullshit originated. "I… yes," he said quietly. "They… they were involved with my father. The one who raised me, not the smoker. They made a deal to take my sister when she was eight years old." He bit the inside of his cheek hard; no matter how many years it had been, the memories still hurt. And the hurt was not lessened any by the fact that his son had suffered from similar things, the fact that he looked a little bit like Samantha. "They killed my father," he added. "They came after Scully, and after me…" After you, he added silently.

Jackson was quiet. The swing moved back and forth. "When did they stop?" he whispered.

Mulder didn't have a good answer to that. He'd come so close to losing Jackson, and though he mostly thought that all of this was over, a part of him thought that they would never stop coming. It was one of his greatest fears with the baby, although he would never leave her or lose her for anything in the world. But it'd been months since anything had happened, months since he'd noticed any kind of Syndicate activity. He and Scully were trying their best to believe that it had ended, that they were safe.

He went with the optimistic answer. "I suppose a few months ago," he said. "I don't know exactly… what happened… but I'm inclined to believe this is all over."

He looked at Jackson, who wasn't looking back at him. He had his forehead balanced in his palm, his head still bent forward. "Why do you ask?" Mulder added tentatively, halfway pressing for an answer, and halfway hoping he wouldn't get it. He wanted to know if Jackson was still being pursued, but he was praying that this wasn't the case.

Jackson sighed heavily, and sat up straight. "No reason," he said, and Mulder bit back an exhale of relief. Before he could ask another question, Jackson got to his feet and turned to the door. "I'm going up," he said bluntly, reaching for the handle.

"Oh," Mulder said, a little surprised, but knowing better than to say anything. "Okay. Goodnight, Jackson. Scully and I will be down the hall if you need anything."

It was probably a babyish thing to say to a seventeen-year-old, but if Jackson minded, he didn't let Mulder know. He didn't say anything at all; he just grabbed the screen door and whipped it open. It slammed hard behind him as he went inside.

---

Early the next morning, Jackson left. He slipped out before it got light, while Mulder and Scully and even the dog were still asleep. He didn't want to have to go through the motions of saying goodbye, and he felt as if leaving was the only thing he had left to do. The only right thing to do.

He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't be around them. He didn't know if these people would ever stop coming.

And besides that, they weren't his family anymore. Once upon a time, they'd raised him and named him and napped with him and given him a little blue stuffed bunny that he carried everywhere, but then they gave him up. They weren't his family, and he couldn't be theirs. He couldn't be a brother to a little baby if he'd only be putting her in danger.

He had to leave. He didn't have a choice.

#sorry for the sarah scene at the beginning it was necessary for plot #xf rewatch #xf fanfic #i wrote this

[marksburyscripts]

Season 1, Episode 4-- Love and Loss

Google Doc

[Inside a local coffee shop. Day. Christine and Victor are sitting at a table. The faint bustle of the cafe can be heard]

CHRISTINE

Thanks for agreeing to meet with me. Even if you’re insisting on recording it.

VICTOR

Well, you texted asking if I wanted to get coffee even though I never gave you my number, so I'll admit I was a little hesitant. 

CHRISTINE

A girl's gotta have hobbies. Also the internet exists. 

VICTOR 

...That doesn't exactly reassure me.

CHRISTINE

I'm sure not much does nowadays.

VICTOR

…What do you want from me?

CHRISTINE

Nothing. But I think we both have some questions. 

VICTOR

Yeah, absolutely. 

CHRISTINE

I'll go first. Tell me about Erik.

VICTOR

...Who?

CHRISTINE

Right, you probably don't know him by that name. Let me rephrase it. Tell me about your son.

VICTOR

[Clearly knowing exactly what she’s talking about] I-- I don’t know what you’re talking about.

CHRISTINE

Please, Victor, I know what happened. I just wanna hear your side of it.,

VICTOR

...How much do you know?

CHRISTINE

Just what he told me. The experiment, the fire. That you left him.

VICTOR

Listen, that’s--

CHRISTINE

That’s what, Victor? You abandoned him, you left him to die, you--

VICTOR

I was scared, okay?! I was nineteen, I-- I was a kid! In case you haven’t figured it out, I wasn’t exactly the picture of perfect mental health! I set fire to a public fucking building! That alone ruined my life, forget about what happened after! Did it tell you about that?

CHRISTINE

Yes, he did.

VICTOR

Then forgive me if I’m lacking in empathy. My friend, my boyfriend, and my family are all dead, and the only other person I have has been in a coma for almost a year. Maybe I handled the situation wrong, but it has taken everything from me.

CHRISTINE

What’s their name?

VICTOR

What?

CHRISTINE

Your friend in the coma. What’s their name?

VICTOR

...Henry.

CHRISTINE

How did you meet?

VICTOR

...We were in the same class in first grade. There was this kid who would always ask for my lunch, and I was too nice to tell him no. So after recess one day, Henry put a pocketful of worms in his desk.

CHRISTINE

Solid strategy.

VICTOR

It worked. I never had a problem again, and Henry and I were inseparable ever since.

CHRISTINE

And what’s your favorite memory with him?

VICTOR

Look, this is sounding suspiciously like a therapy session, and I don’t think--

CHRISTINE

Please, just humor me. Tell me something about him that you can hold onto when things get hard.

VICTOR

...We were twelve. I was asleep, but… you know in those bad romance movies, when the guy will throw pebbles at the girl’s window to get her attention? That’s what he did. I didn’t have my glasses on, so I could barely tell that it was him. But after I let him in, I… I could tell he’d been crying. And… you know, Henry’s always been so sure of himself. See… his parents, they’re... they’re good people, they really are. But they’ve always had plans for him. His dad owns a garage downtown, he always expected Henry to take it over. Not to mention, that was when he started to realize he wasn’t completely straight. That’s not a secret nowadays, he’s very open about it. But in middle school, that might just be the biggest taboo in the world. Not so much nowadays, but we’ve come a long way since then. It got to be too much, he got overwhelmed. I didn’t know any of that until then. He’d never opened up to me that much. I’m not good at that sort of thing, at… comforting people. But I did what I could. I listened, I sat with him, I told him that it would be okay. I let him stay the night, and before I knew it, he was feeling okay enough to start joking around again. Nothing was the same between us again since that night, but not in a bad way. We were more open, we could tell each other anything. He’d always been the strong one. But now he didn’t have to be. ...I know how that sounds, and it’s not the fact that he was upset that makes it my favorite memory with him. Obviously. It’s just… that was the moment that we really connected. More than just a couple of kids who liked to hang out after school. That was the moment that I really understood him as a person, and-- And I knew that if I ever needed someone, he’d be there for me. And you know what? He always was. After the… after the fire, once I was out of the hospital, he drove the six hours to make sure I was okay. He stayed with me for two weeks. Sat with me during my trial, helped me choose a therapist when they told me I had to in order to stay out of prison. I think he would have stayed longer if I hadn’t insisted he go back. He had school, after all, and his classes were starting up for the semester. I didn’t want him to miss any time for my sake. Elliot offered to come up, too, but he was working, and leaving would have upset his boss. Plus, explaining the reason behind it wouldn’t have helped his situation. So… it was just me and Henry for those weeks. I-- I didn’t tell him what had happened, I…. [He takes a moment to gather himself] Look. I don’t know what you’re trying to do. But Henry got lucky. There’s still a chance that he’ll be okay. But he is the exception, not the rule. I-- I don’t know why it told you everything, but if it suspects for a second that you and I are close, then--

CHRISTINE

You don’t need to worry about that.

VICTOR

Yeah? And why’s that?

CHRISTINE

[Matter-of-factly]  Because he’s in love with me.

VICTOR

[Laughs, then realizes that she’s serious] Oh. Oh. W-- Wait, then-- Then you two are--

CHRISTINE

No, we’re not. Homicidal tendencies are a big turn-off for me.

VICTOR

...That’s fair, I guess.

CHRISTINE

Also kidnapping.

VICTOR

[Audibly chokes on his coffee] I’m sorry? Did-- Are-- are you okay?

CHRISTINE

Yeah, I’m fine. Maybe a little traumatized, but.

VICTOR

Yeah, I can imagine. Listen, I-- I am so sorry, I--

CHRISTINE

Stop.

VICTOR

What?

CHRISTINE

You don’t need to apologize. It wasn’t your fault.

VICTOR

Isn’t it?

CHRISTINE

Literally no. You weren’t even there. I don’t even know whether or not you were still in the state. You had nothing to do with it. 

VICTOR

...Okay. I told you my part. Your turn.

CHRISTINE

Where do you want me to start?

VICTOR

How did you meet it?

CHRISTINE

He found me while I was working on a show. I was still living in Maine, still trying to find a decent job after graduating Ingleside. You know that theater downtown, across from the library?

VICTOR

No.

CHRISTINE

Well, it’s there. And they do a holiday show every winter. It was September, so we were just starting rehearsals. I’d done shows there all through school, so I was familiar with every inch of that place. Or… I thought so, at least. After rehearsal one night, I realized halfway home that I forgot my music booklet. Luckily, I made it back before my director left, and she let me go in to grab it.  I knew I’d left it in the basement, which isn’t as creepy as it sounds. That’s where the bathrooms are, the dressing room, all that. It’s nice, honestly.  I remembered leaving it in the corner. So when I didn’t see it there, I figured that maybe someone took it with them to give it back to me tomorrow. But I still looked around, just in case. That was when I heard a voice. I couldn’t tell where it was coming from but… [Audibly smiling, almost dream-like] Victor, it was beautiful. And… familiar.

CHRISTINE (Cont.)

You see, the theater is old. I’m not sure when it was built, but old buildings in New England always have ghost stories, I’m sure you know that. This was no exception. But over the past few years, “activity” had increased. Mostly it was props and costumes going missing, which honestly could have been chalked up to careless actors or stagehands. I probably would have thought the same thing if I hadn’t had reason to believe otherwise. I’ve been alone there more than a few times over the years. Helping clean up after shows, changing between scenes, you name it. And sometimes, I would hear this faint, distant voice. Humming, singing. Crying sometimes. It broke my heart, if I’m being honest.  So of course I knew who was talking to me that night, telling me that my voice didn’t deserve to be “chained to such uninspired drivel”. But that was the first time I actually saw him. Or, sort of. He covered his face, but he was standing there behind me all the same. And yeah. Maybe it was stupid. I know it was. But when he asked me to go with him… of course I did. I was intrigued, this was the adventure I’d always dreamed of. 

CHRISTINE (Cont.)

I didn’t know that there was another room, let alone a sub basement. I’m not sure anyone did. The door that led to it was small and hidden behind the dressing room mirror. If you didn’t know what you were looking for, even if the wall was bare, you might even mistake it for just another panel. But he opened it, and he led me into the dark. We did this every week for months. He would bring me to the forgotten part of the theater he’d made his home. And we would talk, sing, compose. He’s a genius, you know. The songs he writes, they’re unlike anything I’ve ever heard.  Then he told me his story. Your story, too, I guess. And I saw his face. The scars that the fire left him with. It was a shock, but I was willing to look past it. I’m not an asshole.

[A phone notification dings]

CHRISTINE

You can get it, it’s fine. [A long pause, Victor lets out a shaky breath] Something wrong?

VICTOR

I-- No. No, nothing, I-- I’m sorry, I-- I h-- I have to go. It’s-- It’s Henry, he-- Henry’s awake, he just opened his eyes.

CHRISTINE

Oh my God, yeah, go!

VICTOR

Right, yeah, I-- Thank you, I’ll-- I’ll keep in touch, I-- I want to know more.

CHRISTINE

I’ll keep an eye out. Stay safe.

VICTOR

I’m gonna pretend that wasn’t ominous.

[The sound of a bell as he leaves the building, and the recording ends]

NEXT EPISODE➝

#Season 1 #Episode 4 #Christine Daae #Victor Frankenstein

[sillesworldofwriting]

Favour - Chapter 2

Title: Favour

Chapter No./One-Shot/ Drabble: Chapter 2

Words: 1078

Author: Sille

AO3

Pairing: SamxReader

Notes/Warnings: Standford!Sam, Jessica and Sam broke up, angst

Author’s note: Chapter 2 is here yay! It’s shorter than the last one But I think this was a good place to end it. I’ve decided that I will only post a chapter when I have already the next one ready to go. Less pressure for me. Thanks to @tngrayson for betaing

Two days later you were sitting in your living room looking up some stores that sold suits. Stanford was big enough to offer more than one. You also looked at stores near Stanford just to make sure. Hopefully one of those stores would sell suits in Sam’s size. He was quite tall after all.

As you were browsing the many websites you thought about how easy it was for Sam to come with you. You still couldn’t believe that he said yes. No convincing needed. You couldn’t help yourself and pulled out your phone to text him, just to make sure he was really okay with going to the wedding with you.

From: Y/N

To: Sam W.

Are you still sure about the wedding?

Sam’s reply came almost immediately.

From: Sam W.

To: Y/N

Yes Y/N. Of course.

From: Y/N

To: Sam W.

Okay. Just checking…..

From: Sam W.

To: Y/N

If I didn’t want to I wouldn’t have said yes in the first place.

From: Y/N

To: Sam W.

I know.

Still!

From: Sam W.

To: Y/N

I’m going with you and that’s final. And who says I’m doing it for you? Maybe I’m doing it for the good food and the free alcohol?

From: Y/N

To: Sam W.

Jerk

From: Sam W.

To: Y/N

Takes one to know one.

From: Y/N

To: Sam W.

Hahaha….

So I found some stores where we could buy you a suit.

Well, hoping that they have some in your size.

Gigantor.

From: Sam W.

To: Y/N

Hey, I like my size. Easier to reach the top shelf.

Unlike for you, short stuff.

From: Y/N

To: Sam W.

I’m not short. I’m just fun sized….

Anyway. How about tomorrow at 11? You said you didn’t have any classes. Don’t want you to miss any beauty sleep :P

From: Sam W.

To: Y/N

Thank you for the consideration, my dear. I appreciate it -.-

11 am sounds good. Where?

From: Y/N

To: Sam W.

I’m just being a good friend :P

Let us meet at the Shopping Center. We can start there and then go to some other stores if we can’t find you a suit.

From: Sam W.

To: Y/N

Being a good friend. Yeah….. Right

Sounds good. We can eat lunch there too!

From: Y/N

To: Sam W.

Always thinking about food. Wish I knew where you’re putting it all. I only have to look at a piece of cake and my weight increases -.-

From: Sam W.

To: Y/N

Pro’s of being a Gigantor :P

So tomorrow at 11 am at the Shopping Center. Got it. I actually have a lecture in a few minutes. See you tomorrow!

From: Y/N

To: Sam W.

Have fun :P

‘Till tomorrow!

You smiled to yourself as you put your phone away. Sam was such a dork. But an adorable dork. You didn’t know if you deserved his friendship, but were grateful nevertheless. He’s brightened your life in so many ways since you met him, and he even knew of the horrors that existed in this world. You finally had someone to talk to outside of your family, which was a really nice change.

You and Sam bonded over a case a year ago. You were researching a haunting a few towns over and ran into him at the local library, reaching for the same book. Before that moment you only knew each other from the few lectures you had together. You quickly established that you both were going after the same ghost and decided to work together. It did get the job done faster after all.

As you were working the case you told each other how you got into hunting. It was a family business for both of you. The only difference was that your mother stopped after the death of your father. He was killed on a hunt gone wrong and she didn’t want to lose you as well. She settled in a town near her family and only took the occasional hunt around the area. Unlike Sam’s father who only got into hunting after his wife was killed by the yellow-eyed demon. The hunt became his obsession. You were lucky that your mum was so different. You couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been on Sam.

Sam and you stayed in close contact after that. Both of you were glad to have someone to talk to even though you were trying to live a normal life. The past was not easily erased after all. So you quickly became the best of friends. If he wasn’t already with Jessica at that time you could have easily fallen in love with him. He was a good-looking guy with an even better personality, but you told yourself that he was off limits. You weren’t a homewrecker and he seemed happy with Jessica. Well, if you were being honest with yourself, you knew that you failed at telling yourself that. You developed feelings for him but suppressed them.

Now though, you had nothing to convince your heart not to fall for him even harder. Sam was free and didn’t seem to be hung up about the failed relationship; not anymore at least. The fact that he was coming with you to the wedding was not helping at all. You had to act like a couple, so you would feel how it would be to have him as your boyfriend. You weren’t sure if you would be able to come back from that without wanting more. Why did you have to tell your family that he was your boyfriend? This was all your own fault.

You sighed as you leaned back against the couch. There was nothing you could do now. Your family expected you to bring him. Otherwise, they would tease and laugh at you forever, besides you couldn’t come up with a good reason to explain to Sam why you suddenly decided not to bring him. It would be too suspicious and you knew he wouldn’t let it go until you told him the truth. He knew you too well after all.

“Still time to get used to the idea. The wedding isn’t until next month,” you said to yourself. Plenty of time. Hopefully, you would get used to the idea. Otherwise, you would be doomed.

End of chapter 2

Forever taggys: @emptywithout

If you want to be tagged in future parts shot me an ask!

#Supernatural #SPN #Sam Winchester #Sam Winchester x Reader #Sam x Reader #Series #fan fiction #Favour #Sille's writing

[heckin-good-holland-blog]

Left On Read

Warnings: None !!

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker

Genre: Fluff + a little angst here and there

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N:Howdy ok so I just made this blog and I’ve never written anything before?? I hope you guys like it :) ——

He was just your biology partner. It shouldn’t have escalated to this, it should have been some friendly interactions in class and that’s it. Why did you have to go and fall head over heals in love with Peter Parker? Every time you saw him your stomach did flips and your heart started beating at the speed of light. Talking to him was the highlight of your day and when class ended you kept replaying your conversations in your head. You simply couldn’t get him off your mind no matter how hard you tried.

At first Peter just seemed like a normal (and somewhat dorky) boy. To be perfectly honest, you had forgotten he was even in your class because he was quiet and reserved. Everything about him was insignificant up until rumors started to fly about the Stark Internship he was supposedly a part of. This did interest you a little, I mean it wasn’t every day your classmate got a job with Tony Stark. You never really found the right moment to ask Peter about it though since you weren’t friends. That is, up until you were paired together in biology.

“Psst,” you whispered at him one day during a lecture. He jumped, clearly not expecting you to talk to him. You giggled at his reaction and he smiled shyly.

“Oh god sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” you laughed. “I just wanted to ask… You know, the Stark Internship? Is that, like, a thing?” His ears turned pink and he nodded slowly.

“Y-yeah, Mr. Stark asked if I wanted to work for him. It’s cool, uh… Keeps me busy. N-Not that I need to be kept busy, I have friends and stuff too. It’s just a lot of… work.” You could tell he was mentally facepalming at his own awkwardness and you couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. Something about him was charming, and each day you tried to find new things to ask him. You found out about your shared love for Thai food and Star Wars (Peter’s face when you told him your favorite movie was The Empire Strikes Back was absolutely priceless) which lead to longer and more entertaining conversations.

As the semester progressed, Peter became less of just a classmate and more of a friend. You started hanging out outside of class and you joined him at lunch a few days per week. Everything was great, except for one thing. Peter was super into a girl named Liz. It drove you absolutely crazy because, in your opinion, Liz was one of the prettiest girls in your school and you had absolutely nothing on her. He never came out and said it to you, but you knew he really cared for Liz because of the way he looked at her. It was the same way you looked at him. You tried to ignore your feelings for him as much as possible since you valued his friendship and didn’t want to screw things up.

This went on for about two months. Peter went to homecoming with Liz and you were super supportive of it. You gave him advice on how to impress her and helped him as much as possible. You wanted him to be happy even though you knew your night would be miserable. As it turned out, Peter ghosted about 5 minutes in anyway so you weren’t too envious. He had a bad habit of doing that. You tried to ask him what was up but he always avoided the question and brushed it off. A few days after the dance you found out Liz was moving away. Peter was absolutely crushed and became more distant than ever before. You decided that you needed to find out if he was doing alright, so you decided to confront him in biology where he couldn’t run off or avoid you.

“Hey Pete?” you said gently. He looked up from his paper. He was busy copying your homework since he hadn’t done his own.

“Yeah Y/N?” he asked, eyes returning to the page.

“You trust me right? You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?” He nodded distractedly. “Peter it’s just… You’re gone all the time, you’re not doing your homework, you stopped snapchatting me and broke our 126 day streak. What’s going on?”

“Oh yeah, sorry about that,” he said. “The Stark Internship is taking up a lot of my time I guess.” You sighed, not sure if you believed the excuse or not.

“Hey!” you said, your tone a little brighter. “This bio project is due soon but maybe tonight we can knock it out and not have to worry about it? I can order some takeout or something and we can do it at my place. You in?” He gave you a weak smile and your heart fell, already knowing the answer he was going to give.

“I wish I could, it’s just-”

“Yeah yeah, I get it,” you cut him off. “Mr. Stark is an important dude and I’d hate to get in the way of that. Just… If you get off work early, shoot me a message or something. I miss talking to you. I’ll finish the project and you can check over it and edit whatever you need to.”

“Y/N you’re an angel and I totally don’t deserve you,” he grinned. “I’ll do what I can.” You felt the familiar butterflies in your stomach and tried not to blush. You held onto the hope that he’d show up but were still ready for the disappointment that you had felt so often lately.

A few hours later you sat alone in your kitchen trying to edit the PowerPoint presentation you and Peter had started in class. You were having a tough time since you were completely unfocused.

“This is dumb,” you muttered to yourself. “I should just tell him how I feel. We’re barely that close anymore anyway so there’s no use in hiding it.” You reached for your phone. Unsurprisingly you had no texts from Peter. You took a deep breath and began to type.

Yo Parker. You got a sec?

You pushed your phone away and turned your attention to your computer. A few moments later you heard your phone ding and you quickly snatched it.

Peter Piper 👽: I do have a couple seconds free, what’s going on?

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. Were you really going to do this? He wasn’t completely over Liz and you had no idea if he had ever even thought about you that way. What if you messed everything up?

“Get yourself together, Y/N,” you told yourself. “Just do it.” You began to type your message.

Ok, this is gonna sound weird and I don’t want to freak you out but I like you in a more-than-friends way and I have for a while. Just thought you should know

You pressed send. You felt a little dizzy and extremely anxious. It showed that he read it right away, and you held your breath as you waited for a response. You waited and waited and waited some more. Pretty soon it had been 10 minutes and realization dawned on you.

Peter Parker left you on read.

You felt tears threatening to spill out of the corner of your eyes and set your phone down. You went into your room and flopped on your bed, angry at yourself and angry at Peter. It was fine that he didn’t feel the same, you didn’t think he would, but man it would have been nice if he said something. Anything. You lay there wallowing in self pity for a while, thinking about all the potential flaws that made him dislike you. Maybe he secretly hated the sound of your voice and it irritated him every time you talked. Maybe he was only nice to you so he could copy your work. You probably read the entire situation wrong and he never even liked you as a friend to begin with. Every new hypothetical theory tore you apart a little more.

You were about to go take a shower and cry some more when you heard the doorbell ring. You shuffled over curiously; your parents weren’t supposed to be home until later. You pulled the door open only to find Peter standing there, a stupid grin on his face. You couldn’t believe it. Was he here to make fun of you?

“Y/N! I-” You frowned and shut the door in his face and walked away. He knocked loudly and you ignored him.

“What the hell?” you heard him say. “Y/N open the door. What are you, 5?” You sighed dramatically and went back to open it since you knew he’d sit out there all night if he had to.

“What do you want?” you asked. He blinked, confused.

“I-I got your text message,” he said. You covered your face in your hands and he yelped in panic. “No no, don’t be embarrassed!”

“I’m sorry about that, I made things so awkward and I shouldn’t have put you in that situation, but damn Pete not responding was pretty cold,” you told him. His eyes widened and he fumbled around in his pockets for a moment before finally finding his phone.

“W-what do you mean?” he exclaimed, his voice coming out high-pitched. He tapped the screen a few times before his face turned red. “Shit.”

“What?” you asked, laughing despite yourself at his face.

“Um… I guess it didn’t send,” he said sheepishly. “I meant to tell you that, well, I feel the same way. I know I’m busy but I swear I’ll make it work if you want to try-”

“Maybe you should try working somewhere with better cell reception,” you said breathlessly and he smiled.

“Yeah, I suppose I should.”

#this is only sorta bad #peter parker #spider man #tom holland #peter parker imagine #spiderman fluff #sam writes!!

[sincerlyyme-blog]

Walnut: Part Two (EVAN HANSEN X READER)

AUTHORS NOTE: i currently have 586 things in my ask box. 124 of those asks were for a sequel to my fic ‘Walnut’. SO HERE YOU GO KIDDOS

TW: all of them. smut mostly.

Words: 2,503

Requested: hell ya           

You were slammed on the mattress that was now hibernating beneath your spine. Your head hit a pillow, and your boyfriend’s body was hovering over yours. His torso found its way between your thighs. His lips latched onto the flesh of your neck. The room swarmed with sensuality and familiarity. Layers of cotton and denim were strayed on the hard wooden floors of Evan’s bedroom. The sheets that protected his twin size mattress were thrown carelessly. It was a battle of flesh against flesh, in hopes of winning dominance and sweet harmony.

           The feeling of Evan’s racing heart was caught between your fingers. Your hands roamed his exposed skin, drinking in the image of his radiance. His brunette eyebrows were lifted as his eyelids fluttered to a close. Your touch was like fire, burning down deep into his soul. His skin was soft. Your hands traveled to his blue boxers, slipping them down the hip bone that poked the surface of his skin. With a soft growl, he opened his eyes, staring at your anatomy once more.

           Your hands went to his hair. You tugged on the coarse hair that lined the nape of his neck. It was a warm tangle of limbs, and you were to ready to physically be as close as humanly possible.

           Evan outstretched his arm. He opened up his bedside drawer with a shaky hand. Slipping his fingers inside, he patted down the area, looking for a condom. After a few moments his eyes grew wide.

           “Oh no,” he mumbled to himself.

           You sat up, putting your body weight on your elbows, searching for a clue in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

           “This can’t be right,” he left your embrace, digging deeper into the drawer.

           “Evan, what’s wrong?”

           Suddenly his squirrelish like movements came to a stop. He groaned out quickly, looking at you sheepishly.

           “We, uh, ran out of condoms.”

           You jumped up, searching through the drawer yourself. “No, that can’t be! Remember? We mapped it out so that way we would have two left for today?”

           After yours and Evan’s first time, you went to the corner store and bought a box of condoms. You both knew that the two of you were creatures of habit. So stealing a single condom from the guidance counselor would not be useful. There were 36 in the box. You and Evan had grabbed a calendar, mapping out how many you would use as of what day, and when you would need to buy another box. Obviously, you both dreaded the day of having to go out and buy another box, but it was easier on Evan’s behalf to prepare himself mentally. Which he did not.

           “We should have two more,” you repeated, biting onto your thumb.

           “Well, there was last week where we had an extra round,” Evan spoke quietly, scratching the back of his head.

           Last week was your parent’s annual Caribbean business cruise. Every year they would leave for six days on a business trip to an island get-away in the Carribean. Every year prior to last, you would be home alone, sitting on the couch, eating, and binge watching Netflix. This year, however, you and Evan took the empty house as an opportunity. That weekend the two of you decided to see how long you could both last. It started off as a normal make-out session. Then it moved into grinding and thigh-riding. Then slowly cascaded to oral. And finally finishing off with the big-banger. You came, an all time record, of four times. Evan, however, felt like it was not enough. The two of you cuddled until he woke you up with an, unplanned, morning round.

           “Okay, yeah, but what about the other one? Shouldn’t we have at least one more?” you crossed your arms over your bare chest, feeling the tiniest bit exposed.

           “Three weeks ago. When it, um, broke,” Evan softly reminded you.

           Three weeks ago was Evan’s birthday. Everything started perfectly, your plan was smooth sailing. You surprised him with a new matching set of underwear. He was over the moon. He was so excited that his trembling hands broke the condom while rolling it on.

           “Oh yeah,” you sighed.

           “Well, what now?” Evan asked with wide eyes, rubbing his hands up-and-down your arms reassuringly.

           You shrugged your shoulders, reaching down on the floor to grab Evan’s hoodie. “You’re going to go out and buy another box,” you bluntly stated.

           Evan scrambled, picking up his boxers and putting them back on. You threw his hoodie at his chest.

           “B-But what if the guy at the counter knows me? What if he tells my mom? What if he thinks I’m some weird sex freak who-“

           You laughed, shaking your head, placing a kiss on his cheek. “You will be fine. Just get in, get out. Don’t make weird conversation. You aren’t the first teenager to buy a box of condoms, Ev,” you pulled on the rest of your clothes.

           “I have to go home and get my things ready for school. Text me when you get home, okay?”

--

             Evan opened the door to the pharmacy. A soft ‘ding’ ran through the building. Evan jumped the slightest. He looked over at the man who stood behind the counter. Evan offered him an awkward, toothy grin. The man just scoffed back, placing a toothpick between his teeth. He was dressed in a white lab coat. Evan began to think that maybe he was apart of the CIA.

           The aisles were shortly stacked. Colonies of Advil and rubber gloves sectioned off the pharmacy and a small doctor’s clinic. Zipping his hoodie up a little bit further, Evan walked down the aisles. There, lined up in a row, was different renditions of what he needed. There was latex free, regular, extra large, five times more friction, and anything else he could think of.

           Why are there so many?

           Why are there flavours?

           Different sizes?

           Is mine considered large or small?  

Finally, Evan picked up a box. The purple label looked like the one you had bought last time. He clutched it in his hands tightly. His thumbs brushed over any dirty words, as if to seal them away from his own public morals. He felt like he was frozen in place. Almost as if his feet were permanently planted to the floor. Evan knew that he needed to buy the special little box of tin foil wrappers. But he just couldn’t seem to carry himself over to the cash register.

           Should I stack the box between packages of candy so no one sees?

           Should I just leave, tell Y/N that the store ran out, and just get her to get them?

           Should I call my mom to get them for me?

           Oh God, don’t call mom. Don’t let her know you’re having sex.

           She’s going to know I’m having sex.

           Everyone is going to know.

           It will be so embarrassing.

           How will I-

                       “Is that Evan Hansen?”

           Evan whipped his head to the left so quickly that he could have sprained it. There sat Jared Kleinman, grinning in a plastic chair. He was sandwiched between two people. All three of them were holding a piece of paper with numbers on them. Evan had guessed that it was the “take-a-number-and-wait” system for the clinic.

           Jared’s smile was genuine. As if he actually cared about seeing Evan, coincidentally, at the local pharmacy. The corner of Jared’s lips went from genuine to mischievous in 3.12 seconds. He saw the wall of condoms that surrounded Evan.

           Jared rose from his seat, walking over to Evan, sneering at the purple box that was clutched in his hands. Evan’s entire face flushed to a shade of maroon.

           “So you’re getting it on with L/N, eh?” he wiggled his eyebrows, elbowing Evan in the ribs.

           Evan’s eyes shut tight as if he was trying to shake himself out of the conversation.

           “We just- we ran out, okay? And I needed to pick up some more, but I am scared that-“

           Jared snorted obnoxiously, waving his hands in the air. “Wait, wait, wait,” he settled his hands on his hips, jutting his stomach outwards, “you’re trying to tell me that you have had enough sex to finish an entire box of condoms?”

           Evan nodded shyly, as if he was in trouble. He looked down at his feet. He focused on the frayed thread on his shoelaces. He couldn’t build up the courage to look back at Jared.

           Suddenly a hand swiped the purple box out of his hands.

           “Well, Hansen, today is your lucky day. I am going to get these for you,” Jared then grabbed Evan’s wallet from his hoodie pocket.

           “Y-You’re what?”

           “Yeah, I’ll get these for you. It’s the least I can do. I mean, it will make me look like a total catch,” he began to walk to the cash register until Evan stopped him.

           “W-Wait! Let me get you something. A-As a way to say ‘thank you’?”

           Jared stared at Evan for a few seconds before chuckling, “God, you’re weird.” He looked around the stacks of snacks, pulling out a random see-through container. “Here, get me these,” he looked closer to read the label, “candied walnuts.”

           Evan’s eyes grew wide. He felt frozen again.

           “Anything but that,” he murmured softly.

--

 Evan ran back home, the purple box was hidden in his hoodie. A small grin plastered on his face. He unlocked his front door, calling out to you.

“I’m still in your room!” you called out.

Evan had only been gone for an hour at maximum. That was enough time for you to run home and grab a few things that you needed for the weekend. Evan flung his shoes off his feet, slowly trudging up the stairs. They creaked beneath his feet. He took the box of condoms out from underneath his hoodie. Opening the door to his bedroom, the purple box fell out of his hands and on his floor.

While at home, you grabbed a set of lingerie that had been sitting at the back of your closet for a while. You had bought a set for Evan’s birthday, a few months back, and the store was having a 2 for the price of one deal. You forgot all about it until today. It was baby blue, and lace. On the spectrum of lingerie, it was not too scandalous. Rather, it was elegant and sweet.

You smiled at Evan. His eyes were the size of golf balls and his mouth hung open. You sauntered your way over to him.

“W-What’s the occasion?” he asked softly, his hands ghosting over your silhouette.

You smiled softly, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, “Nothing. It was just a surprise for you.”

Evan grinned widely, slamming his door shut, and throwing you back onto his mattress. He slobbered kisses up and down your neck, making you laugh loudly. After you began to cramp up from the laughter, Evan lifted his head to look into your eyes. He was giggling, his nose scrunched and his tongue was pressed against the bottom row of his teeth.

“I love you,” he breathed out. “I love everything about you.”

He kissed your lips, then your ear, then your neck. “I love the way you say my name. I love the way you look at flowers. I love the colour of your eyes. I love your lips. I love your ears. I love your neck.”

His hands went down to your breasts, palming them softly. “And, gosh, I love these,” he giggled with a blush. You slapped him on the arm playfully. You both laughed softly, connecting your lips once more. The kiss was warm and full of love. It was like a twist of purity and losing a childhood innocence wrapped in one. Night and day. Indescribable.

Evan pulled away from the kiss. His lips trailed down to the band of your lace underwear. Your boyfriend pulled them down your legs, placing them to the side of the bed. He looked up into your eyes, placing sweet kisses along your knees and inner thighs. His kisses inched closer to where you ached for him the most. You needed him there.

Taking his fingertips, he opened you up softly. His eyes focused on the most sacred part of your body. He got butterflies in his stomach whenever he reminded himself that he was the only other person who was allowed to see it. Evan dragged his lower lip against your core, planting a soft kiss to the sensitive flesh. You sucked in a breath, watching his every move. His tongue delved out of his mouth, licking a stripe upwards. It was warm and sent tingles down to your toes. Evan took his time. His tongue darted in and out of you, penetrating you slowly. His nose rubbed against your core as he worked on you.

The familiar know formed in your stomach. As you began to brim closer to the edge, Evan pulled away to speak to you.

“I’m not done,” he spoke lowly. Pulling his right hand off of your leg, he waved his hand to you. “I want to put three in you before you cum,” he referenced to his fingers.”

“Ev, I won’t last,” you warned him, breathing quickly.

“You know what to say,” he connected his mouth back to your core, slipping his index finger into you.

You let out a small yelp, your head thrown back into the pillows of Evan’s bed. Your abdomen was tensing and you were second-guessing your own willpower. You felt the tip of Evan’s middle finger protrude into your entrance, his tongue tapping the sensitive nub above. You held on as tight as you could. It felt like your abdomen was being ripped apart. You couldn’t hold on for much longer.

“Walnut,” you cried, grabbing onto Evan’s thick head of hair.

Evan didn’t stop. He stuck his ring finger into you. You didn’t think it was possible.

“Walnut! Evan! Fuck!” you couldn’t hold on anymore. Your walls were coming down. Your muscles were tightening and you were seeing stars.

Evan sat up, wiping off his mouth and fingers on his sweater sleeve. You stripped him down. When he was finally fully bare, you wrapped your fingers around his shaft. You jerked him off slowly, running your thumb along his slit. You began to move faster.

“Shit, walnut, stop,” he grabbed your hand and stopped your movements. He was already hard and leaking at the tip.

Ripping open the sacred purple box, Evan pulled out a silver packet. He opened it with his teeth, rolling it onto his length. He teased your entrance, daring to keep you waiting. Finally, he thrusted slowly and passionately. His hips touched yours as he delved deep.

 You and Evan both came that night. No safe words, no stops, just pure bliss and feeling of ecstasy. And never, once in your life, did you ever think to thank Jared Kleinman.

#dearevanhansen #dear evan hansen x reader #dear evan hansen imagine #dear evan hansen #evan hansen x reader #evan hansen #evan hansen imagine #evan hansen smut #dear evan hansen smut #walnut fic #walnut part two #walnut fic part two #walnut part 2 #smut #connor murphy x reader #connor murphy imagine #connor murphy smut

[limpblotter]

Ray x Robert

a/n: Gift to @defussy who told me about their dadsona and dream dad. Its rushed, its gross but this is for you Taylor, <3  w/c:1995

“Are you sure you don’t wanna hang out on campus a bit more dad?” Amanda beamed up at her father. They had a long day of fun campus activities. Most of which were just Amanda stopping at every café near her campus for eats. Ray hung out at her dorms, said hi to her roommates and even got some keen gossip about Amanda’s first month away from home. Now the sun was setting and there was somewhere he needed to be. “It was nice having you here dad, sorry I couldn’t come home this weekend…”

“Wha-What no, hunny, I loved the 8 hour drive to see you.” He smiled (extremely) tiredly. “Plus, I don’t think you’ll be visiting home soon after the moose incident and your car.”

“It’s a shame moose don’t abide by the common traffic laws instilled by humans. One of few things we contributed to this world.”

“Well…the moose probably wouldn’t have hit your car if you weren’t speeding…and if cars…didn’t exist. I’d chalk this up to human error still.”

“Say what you will, Pops.” Amanda shrugged, “that moose was out to get me. Me surviving is nothing less than a miracle, final destination.”

Ray would have agreed until he saw that the only thing the moose did was dent her left wheel pretty bad that the metal was embedded into the tire. “I’m just glad you’re ok.” Just remembering that phone call that she had been in an ‘accident’ made his heart rate pick up. A small yawn escaped his lips against his will and his daughter gave him a small look. “What?”

“Dad, I’m serious, if you’re too tired to drive stay the night around here. Getting behind the wheel sleepy is practically as bad as having a moose hit you—“

“—hitting a moose”

“Whatever.”

Ray placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder and gave her a small squeeze, “I promise I’ll be fine, I’ll take a break a few times on the road and if I really need to, I’ll pull over and spend the night in a sleazy motel where I’ll probably be more likely to be murdered in the middle of nowhere never to be seen or heard from again.”

Amanda gave him a small frown. “Not funny dad.”

“I’m being serious!”

“Father, if you die, you best have left me with a Will or something!”

“I leave you all my treasures my first born starting with my band shirts from high school”

They shared a deadpan expression until Amanda broke and made a face, “the 80s are so not coming back.” She would never want to inherit her father’s old, outdated shirts from his lame days in band.  Without any more jokes, the two stood in front of Ray’s old Chevy. Amanda wordlessly threw her arms around her father and gave him a small squeeze. “Love you dad, text me every time you stop ok?”

“I’ll be sure to update you every mile.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Ray smiled kissing the top of Amanda’s head. “See you next weekend, Manda Panda.” Ray held back the yawn until he was in the car. He waved at his daughter one more time, watching her reflection shrink in his rearview mirror was he pulled out of the college parking lot and began his 8 hour journey back to Maple Bay.

So, it became very apparent to Ray that Amanda was right. He was infact very tired from driving 8 hours to see his girl, be tugged around excitedly only to be driving back home for another 8 hours. Ray slowly started counting the seconds to a minute. He told himself if he could last a minute, then he can last another minute and continued this way until he forgot how to count all together. The roads were getting dark and with a glance to the dashboard he found himself looking at a car that was in need of some gas and at least three more hours of driving left.

He decided for his sake and the sake of his only heir to his fortuneless fortunes he would stop for the night. Ray called Amanda keeping his usual jokes of impending death to a minimum but made sure to bring up the moose one more time for the night. Once he got gas, got a room, and called his daughter one more time just for goodnights there was one more number left to check.

Ray shot a text to Val, who kept him posted about her father’s current situation.

‘Going strong, I’m planning on getting him a phone soon. He really appericates your letters even though and I quote, he rather have a hard one on the rocks. Lol, Val.’

Ray was happy. He was happy Robert was doing something to better himself but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss him. Only a few weeks after Amanda’s graduation party, Rob announced he was going away for a while. He was going to a Rehab center a few hours away but didn’t disclose where and for how long. He didn’t want anyone to be tempted to reach out to him incase…it was ugly. Mary and Ray took turns watching Rob’s house and his beloved terrier while his daughter kept tabs on him and his progress.

According to her he was really making some. That brought warmth to Ray but that didn’t replace the void. He found himself missing those wild nights of ghost hunting and stuttering out laughter. He missed the way Rob looked in his thinking spot, face illuminated by the city skyline. He missed the way Robert smelled like pine, ash and liquor all rolled together into a cologne that was pretty manageable on Ray’s senses.

It was for the best, Ray had to believe it was. Plus Rob’s absence meant hanging out with Mary became a way they both mourned the farewell of their drinking buddy. Mary wasn’t bad once Ray got to know her. Like Robert said once, she really was harmless.

“Ugh…” Ray turned up his nose a bit once he saw the condition of the motel room he was saying in. Now he wished he stayed the night closer to Amanda’s ritzy campus and not in some hot, humid, dusty room in the middle of god-knows-where Nevada. Too late for that now, Ray poked the bed and swore a blanket of dust uplifted and wafted through the air probably spreading decades of disease and unchanged sheets. “Th-the-there is no way I am sleeping in that.” He shook his head and went towards a complimentary chair beside the bed.

Thank God he was working out a little more with Craig. With a slightly more flexible and slimmer frame he managed to curl up in the chair until he was somewhat comfortable looking like a human ball of yarn…

…

…

“This isn’t working.” Ray spoke out loud. His mind was hazy and tired but his body couldn’t seem to relax long enough for that sleep to seep out of his brain and into the rest of him. Booze would probably help him sleep or anything that would force his body into a slumber. Now that he thought of booze the idea did not leave him. Finally slowly rose from the chair, making sure not to topple back down with exhaustion and opened the door to his room. He followed the dimly lit hallway in search of help or a mini bar nearby.

He walked down, passing a few rooms when a door on his right swung over so fast it nearly smacked him right in the face. “H-h-H-hey!” Ray exclaimed with mild annoyance. “Y-You could have hit me!”

“You could have watched where my door was going to open” a gruff voice grumbled with so much familiarity Ray was in near tears of joy. “Ray?”

“R-Robert?!” Ray didn’t think he’d be this happy to see that rough, bewildered expression again. “Wh-What are you doing here? I thought you-you were going to-to..wait you’re still going to-to rehab?”

Robert’s face took a while to compose itself; his hollowed, dark eyes didn’t look the same. There was a soft light flickering behind those blackened hues. He rubbed a large hand over his facial hair that seemed to be well maintained, then spoke “actually I mass murdered all of them and I’m on the run.”

…

That humor was well missed as well, as long as …it was actually humor. “Did you do it by poising their punch?” Ray included into the joke softly, he earned a small delightful laugh from Robert. His heart soared at the sight of his crinkling smile. “Seriously…what are you doing in a hotel?”

“Rehab is going well, they’re letting me have weekends to myself, test my limits with temptation.” Robert explained, “my rehab center is actually not to far from here…Val…didn’t happen to tell you where I was, did she?”

“Nono! Val kept her mouth shut. At least to me.” Mary could have probably gotten it out of her. “Amanda’s college I about 4 hours away from here, I stopped for the night.”

Robert leaned up against the doorframe, “picked a good spot, here its haunted.”

“Oo-ooh not this again.” Ray stammered a bit and shook his head, “I’m way too tired for Daniel McStrugis, Paranormal extraordinaire.” That was a lie, just looking at Rob. God he looked so good, he looked so healthy. At least…at least that’s what Ray thought. He could just be seeing what he wanted to see. What he hoped so maybe…Rob would be coming back soon… “Anyway…I was just going to…” wait, shit, Ray was on his way to find some ‘adult’ juice to sooth him to sleep.  Was he the temptation Robert was training to be able to face? Was he…bad? “take a walk…because I’m uh…not too tired.”

“Can’t sleep?” Robert tilted his head, his body language read ‘I don’t care’ but his voice said something softer. “I know the feeling…I’ve only just started sleeping six hour nights. Before it was impossible, the headaches, the cold sweats, shaking… I felt sick for weeks.” Rob must have seen Ray’s pained expression so he quickly changed his tune. “But its good now, found out I have a thing for Shirley Temples.”

Ray felt a giggle bubble out of him, as well as a yawn. “I hope you mean the fruity soda beverage and not the underage curly cue from that one infomercial.”

“I do like red heads.”

Ouch. His jokes still stung.

“It was…good seeing you Robert.” Ray signaled it was time he left. He wanted to stay, but Rob was in the middle of healing. Ray knew better he knew—

Robert shifted his weight off the door frame and had his arms down at his sides. He looked…vulnerable. “Come inside, lets…talk.”

“Rob I really shouldn’t, I gotta drive in the morning and you, you’ve got you-your thing an-and I…” his stuttering increased as his heart rate did. Rob’s offers to join him usually ended with random car rides or slick invitations to his bed. Both things Ray had also come to miss. “I-I should really not.”

Robert’s eyes looked down at his feet as the words slipped out his mouth almost effortlessly. “I’ve missed you a lot you know…kept all the letters Val forwarded to me.” He looked up and found Ray taking steps towards Robert. The pull was like a magnet, steady and constant. “Just…want to talk to you a bit…I don’t think I can wait 4 more months to see you now that you’re here.”

Ray knew he shouldn’t have. But the moment he walked into Robert’s door all the emotions flooded back. They spoke for hours until dawn. Then and only then did Ray find sleep, he found it while holding Rob’s rough hands. He found it after Rob used his beloved jacket as a blanket to keep him warm while he slept. Ray knew he shouldn’t have, but Robert Small was a very big distraction.

#dream daddy #ddadds #ray robinson #robert small #dadsona #loveyou #uneditted #drabble #yes I'm still doing more of these but a mutual asked so I made a post <3

[valeriianz]

Prompt: Connor and Oliver break up, but cross paths a few years later and Oliver is a single dad raising a baby girl. Cue Connor falling in love with Ollie again, along with his daughter

I might have actually squealed when I read this! This is kiiiinda canon but not really. S3 doesn’t exist here.

Connor ducked, nearly tripping andfalling to his knees, scrambling to the next row: Philosophy. A womanwho’d been leafing through a book eyed him suspiciously, but Connorbarely noticed her. He straightened up slowly, fingers crawling upbook spines to peer over the shelf.

Oliver was here. It was just Connor’sdamn luck to run into the man during his visit back to Philly, in atiny ass local book shop to boot.

“Excuse me-”

“Shh,” Connor silenced the womannext to him without a glance, dully picking up an irritated huffbefore she snapped the book shut and walked away.

Oliver was browsing two isles away,head down, oblivious. Connor swallowed, keeping himself eye-levelwith the tops of the books as he spied. His heart smashed against hisrib cage, anxious, excited, nervous, the tips of his fingersprickled.

Salt and pepper looked good on Oliver,but his hair was the same otherwise… still short, slightly curly.Those coke-bottle glasses were back, and instead of showing his age,they made Oliver look so handsome; smart, wise, experienced,impeccable. From Connor’s vantage point, he watched Oliver grin,turning a book over to read the back.

The book store felt smaller and smalleras Oliver browsed, Connor’s entire attention focused on the otherman, whom he hadn’t seen since he graduated from Middleton. Scenariosplayed out in Connor’s head, wondering if he should say hello… orget the hell out before the other man noticed him. What would he evensay? Would Oliver even care to see him? What was he up to these days?Did he still work in IT or had he moved on? Was he-

Connor’s eyes bugged out; Oliverdiscovered him.

Instead of playing off like he wasn’tstaring, Connor stretched to his full height, smiling politely andhoping it didn’t look too manic or forced. Oliver for his partlooked… stunned, like he’d seen a ghost. Connor licked his lips,stumbling over nothing while he walked back over to him, attemptingto decipher the bewildered smile tugging Oliver’s lips up and up.

“Connor?” Oliver’s voice rang incomplete recognition, a touch of disbelief (and… worry?) coloringhis tone.

“Hey.” Connor’s heart did a backflip, coming closer to Oliver. He wore jeans and a sweater, theknitted material doing nothing to hide how jacked his arms were. Holyshit someone had been going to the gym.

Connor gasped as those arms enveloped him in a hug before he had time to think about it, warm andsafe and kind, like nothing had changed.

Connor returned the gesture after hisbrain came back to life, crossing his arms around Oliver’s back andsqueezing. He closed his eyes and sighed, letting the tension in hisbody slip away. Oliver made no move to disconnect so Connor heldtight, his skin warming as old, but not forgotten, senses came back,feelings of want and care and love. How had he gone this long withoutan Oliver hug? It was like the older man was pressing him backtogether and mending whatever cracks had begun.

It felt so familiar and gorgeous, abrief thought of why did I ever let go in the first placecrossing Connor’s mind as they pulled apart, but still standingclose. Oliver’s hands slid to rest on Connor’s shoulders.

“You lost weight.”

Connor cracked a grin at that, avertinghis eyes. Of course that would be the first thing Oliver wouldnotice.

“Or you got bigger,” Connorcountered. Then to drive the point in the right direction: “Wheredid these come from?”

As he spoke, Connor lifted his hands toOliver’s shoulders and down his arms, squeezing his biceps lightly.

Oliver laughed, the skin around hiseyes crinkling and wiping Connor’s brain clean.

Their hands dropped together, bothquietly agreeing to look a little more normal in public. Connorstuffed his hands in his pockets and Oliver stuck his thumbs throughhis belt loops, shrugging with his elbows as he spoke.

“What are you doing here? Are youback?” Oliver asked, his eyes roaming Connor’s face like he stillcouldn’t believe he was here, in front of him.

“Ah, ten year reunion. Unofficial. Itwas Asher’s idea.” Connor nodded along with Oliver, licking hislips. “It’s just for the weekend.”

“Wow, ten years huh?” Oliver spokesoftly.

Connor hummed an affirmative, lookingdown Oliver’s front to avoid his eyes.

They had broken up… almost mutually.At Oliver insistence, they took a break during Connor’s last year ofschool. They were still “friends” and talked but, Connor hadalways felt a bitterness about the “break.” Oliver said theyneeded space, more specifically he needed time alone to grow andrediscover himself… not the exact words Oliver had used, but thatwas the idea. Oliver wanted to spend time apart to make his owndecisions, find his own path, stop following Connor and his friendsaround.

It annoyed Connor, at first. Wasn’t thepoint of a relationship to be in each other’s lives? To sharefriends and discoveries, events and holidays, bad and the good? Beingfriends with Oliver wasn’t enough for Connor, though Oliver seemedjust fine, still smiling, still sharing stories and complaining aboutwork.

So Connor had retaliated by sleepingaround again, letting it appear on the outside that he was gettingsome kind of twisted revenge on Oliver (usually he just went withwhatever his friends/classmates wanted to believe, not bothering todefend himself or his actions at all when they called him out on it).But in all honesty, Connor missed the intimacy Oliver used to give.He craved something more than sex, try as he might to fill the emptyfeeling in his body with it. He wanted what he couldn’t have, soConnor tried replacing it, over and over again… until he had tostop, because suddenly the countless men and meaningless fucksstarted to remind Connor of his youth and the downward spiral he hadbeen heading in before he met Oliver.

Thankfully he did have enough of a mindto stop sleeping around, for his own mental well being and alsobecause it had been affecting Oliver as well. Maybe deep down Connordid want to hurt Oliver, it was a defense mechanism which Connordefaulted on and he hated that it never seemed to turn off. But henever wanted to hurt Oliver, he never meant to, and he couldn’t standthe silence that came with rubbing his conquests in Oliver’s face. Sohe stopped, and they patched things up and it was going alright…

But then Oliver did start growing intohis own. He got a new job where he was quickly promoted, he made newfriends, had plans almost every weekend, and by the time graduationcame, had stopped texting Connor nearly altogether. After a full yearof being on a “break,” Oliver stood before Connor at graduation,eyes misty, staring deep and startlingly into Connor’s.

They hugged and kissed, but it didn’tmean anything, because Connor told him he had gotten a job in Atlantaand was leaving that month.

They had already grown apart, busy withtheir own lives, so with only slight apprehension on Connor’s end, hesuggested making this “break” a “break up,” and Oliveragreed. There was no point in trying to make it work, they needed tofocus on themselves, maybe some time in the future?

Connor had shrugged at that. Hehonestly didn’t know what would happen next. Oliver had been a staplein his life, an anchor, a beacon of stability and support. Oliver hadbeen everything. The thought of a life without him was actually…terrifying. But Connor needed to grow up. He had kissed Oliver again,this time desperately, achingly, and despite a warning light going onin the back of his head, Connor told Oliver he loved him.

Oliver told him he’d always love him.

They never spoke again.

Until now.

Connor was about to suggest dinner,drinks, going back to his hotel, anything to get Oliver alone andtalk with him, catch up, when out of nowhere a small child ran upbehind Oliver and hugged his legs, making him jerk in surprise.

“Daddy!”

A wide smile broke out on Oliver’sface, stunning Connor further. “Hey baby, I was just coming to getyou.” As Oliver spoke, he bent down and scooped up the girl,resting her on his hip.

She was holding a book, almost smackingOliver’s face with it as she brought it around his shoulder to showhim, her mouth opening to say more but then she noticed Connor andwent still, looking at the other man in silence.

Oliver chuckled, obviously amused.

“Connor, this is Tala.” He heftedher up a bit more. “Say hi, Tala.”

She hid her face in Oliver’s neck andConnor felt his heart swell. Which was weird, he never liked kidsmuch. There was something about the way Oliver looked with her,taking the book from her so she could wrap her tiny arms around hisneck.

Connor’s lips parted but nothing cameout for a while, just watching Oliver fuss with Tala’s smooth blackhair and trying to coax her out of her hiding spot.

“You have a daughter?” Connorfinally managed. What else have I missed?

“She’susually a big talker, for a near 3 year old…” Oliver sighed,stalling. He tore his eyes from Tala to focus on Connor again,lowering his voice. “Kent isn’t… something to talk about rightnow. I’m fresh out of a divorce.”

“You gotmarried?” Connor nearly squeaked. And I never knew?

Oliver went silent.Tala poked one eye out to study Connor.

Connor looked backat her wide brown-eyed gaze, recognition settling in. She was nearlythe spitting image of Oliver. Same brows, same dark brown eyes, samenose… all nestled safe and sound in Oliver’s strong, one-armedhold.

“She’s beautiful,Oliver,” Connor whispered, unconsciously taking a step closer. “Hi,Tala.”

She hid her faceagain and the men shared a quiet laugh.

“She likes you,”Oliver insisted. “Tala’s only shy around people she likes… shereminds me of you, actually.”

Their eyes met in aflash.

“Wow, that wasinappropriate, I didn’t mean it like–” Oliver shook his head,looking up to the ceiling. “I just meant she… is a big talker,normally. Can get anything she wants with just a blink. But, ah–”

“I get it… I’mflattered.” Connor was more than flattered. Something dangerouslyfond and affectionate swirled in his system, forming a lump in histhroat. “Oliver…”

Connor’s voicemust’ve betrayed something, or maybe the look in his eyes, whateverit was, Oliver understood. He always understood Connor, always knewwhat he needed or wanted versus what he said or didn’t say.

“Want to stop byfor dinner?”

Connor nodded,hoping he didn’t seem too eager. “I’d love to.”

Part two

#coliver #connor walsh #oliver hampton #htgawm #i hope you like it! #i kinda want to write more but i'll leave it for now #thank you! #my writing #Anonymous

[haileigh-desire]

a new beginning

It’s five o’ clock in the morning and instead of getting some sleep I’ve decided to start a new blog. I’ve taken a hiatus on writing for quite some time now and I think I’m finally ready to restart the process of carefully separating my words with spaces in the same way a spruce separates its needles, keeping them just close enough to hold the snow. I tend to write and rewrite the same things with just a slight variation, probably because birthing poetry- or really any kind of writing- can feel almost ritualistic to me. I do it over and over again until I sort out my thoughts in a way that makes me feel content. I am hoping that even after all this time left coagulating inside my head, my thoughts and ideas aren’t too stale and lifeless to mean anything anymore. I don’t know if I’ve been a writer who doesn’t write for too long but I know that I am ready to try again.

I guess it would be a good idea to talk a little bit about where I am in life at the current moment. I’m twenty four years old, living in an apartment next to a jail in Reno, Nevada and I am a mother. If there is a purpose in life greater than being a parent, I do not know of it. I was staying at a homeless shelter in Florida when I found out that I was pregnant and had no concept of the gravity of what that meant for me or of the direction it would catapult my life into. My pregnancy was divided up into chunks of time, each one spent in a different state. I carried my child to be with me while I moved from one place to another, across the country and back again all the while tracking her growth with apps that compared her to various fruits.  I believe she was the size of an apricot when I flew to Nevada for the first time to stay with a friend whom I had previously lived with before and had come to love as an honorary sister of sorts. Amanda and I both worked at the Buffalo Wild Wings across the street from our second floor apartment in Sparks and endured the misery of summertime in the desert with a broken air conditioner together. There is a picture somewhere of the both of us standing in a shower, my round belly sticking out far enough to leave only my toes visible while her tummy stands opposite of mine in all of its flatness and glory. We were so hot even in our own apartment that we resorted to taking cold showers together to survive. This is the primary chunk of time where I wrestled with the most difficult of choices- could I and should I keep this baby? I had kept the second passenger joining us in our new home a secret until I was already off of the plane and sitting in the drive-thru at In-N-Out getting my first taste of the notorious Double Double (which was everything I had dreamed it to be and more, in case you were wondering) and after I uttered the words,  “I have to tell you something,” Amanda guessed correctly right away. We briefly discussed my options and I was afraid to admit to her at first that a large part of me was telling me to keep the baby so I was very nonchalant about the situation initially in order to conceal my true intentions. The word abortion was thrown into the conversation and over the next few weeks I attempted to warm up to the idea. I knew that I was not only financially not in a position where I could support myself, let alone a baby, but I also didn’t have a place where the baby and I could live once they were born or the support/involvement of the baby’s father. At first he encouraged me towards abortion, stating that he was not ready and did not want to be a father and over the course of many phone calls to each other we argued about whether or not either of us would be able to live with the guilt and even though he tried to reassure me that it was just a clump of cells and wouldn’t suffer, I still believed in my heart that it was the wrong choice. We ended up driving to a clinic in California twice to terminate the pregnancy but due to either fate or coincidence I measured too far along for the type of procedure they offered and I used that as my excuse to get the hell out of there and never look back. As time went on and my baby grew from an apricot to a kiwi to a kumquat to a muskmelon and beyond, I began to get more and more attached to this little being inside of me and became more and more stressed out and terrified about what I was actually going to do about this whole impending motherhood thing. As each tiny flutter of what might have just been gas mistaken for movement grew steadily into what turned into unmistakable kicks and stretches and punches to the rib cage and my bladder, I fell further in love with the little glob that I got to see forming every few weeks on the ultrasound screen. I remember being amazed that I could see the spine and just looking at the face and tiny little hands and fingers curling and uncurling and being in total awe. Amanda came with me to almost all of my OBGYN appointments and when I finally got to find out the gender I closed my eyes and let the nurse show Amanda first. 

IT’S A GIRL! I could not have been happier in that moment. She was a girl. Deep down I think I already knew she was a she but it was still exciting to know for sure. As I came nearer and nearer to my due date, which was August 28th 2015, I got even more scared of what the future held. I started to believe that it was impossible for me to keep my daughter and raise her all by myself so I did the only other thing I knew to do- I contacted an adoption agency. I ended up meeting a very kind and understanding woman in the lobby of a Starbucks and after discussing the ins and outs of what adoption is all about, I was sent back home with a stack of books made by hopeful families for me to pick through and a little book of frequently asked questions about adoption. I started reading about the different homes that I could place my daughter in and imagining what kind of life she would have in each one and after some serious thought and consideration I landed on a gay couple from Las Vegas. Shortly after I told my adoption case worker that I would like to move forward with that particular couple, I ended up flying back to Michigan to move home so that I could be with my family during the last few weeks of my pregnancy and have them be there for the birth. Even though I had chosen what I considered to be the best family I could have possibly found to raise my daughter, I still struggled with the idea of giving away my baby that I had carried inside me for so many months and loved so unbearably much and leaving the hospital empty handed.  Every time I thought about that moment where I would have to say goodbye, I found myself unable to let her go. Even though I knew there were many things that this other family could offer her that I wouldn’t be able to, like trips around the world and a life of luxury, I still believed that I was meant to be with my daughter.  Once I was back in Michigan I decided to cut off contact with the adoption agency and the potential family. The caseworker continued to text me asking for updates and eventually after realizing that I got cold feet she moved on to instead text me to lend me support in whatever decision I was making, which was very nice of her. I did feel a great deal of guilt for essentially ghosting on a really awesome family that had been waiting to adopt for over two years, but I finally felt content with my choice to keep my baby and I was happy to finally come to what I felt was the right conclusion. Whatever it took, I was going to make motherhood work for me.  In the middle of the night on August 10th 2015, I woke up to the feeling of my insides being crushed in a death grip intermittently on and off and knew that it was time to get my ass to the ER. The baby was on her way! I rushed to the hospital and immediately upon arrival I begged for/demanded an epidural. I was told that I would have to wait approximately 20 minutes for a bag of fluids to go through my IV first and seeing as I was having a contraction every other minute, I calculated that I would have to endure ten more contractions before finally getting relief. Thankfully, God must have heard my prayers because after the tenth and final minute-long moment of the most unbearable and intense pain imaginable, a nurse finally came in with the longest needle I’ve ever seen in my life and jabbed it into my spine. Right as she inserted it, my water broke. It took a few minutes before my entire left side was completely numb and once I voiced my concern that I could still feel the other half of my body they propped my onto my side and eventually I could feel nothing from my boobs down. My mother showed up, along with my friend Casey and feeling sleepy I decided to rest my eyes and take a nap while I waited to dilate to a 10. A few hours later I was woken up and informed that it was time to push! There was a big mirror propped up so that I had an immaculate view of my own vagina and the top of my daughters head peeking out of it. A nurse gave her a little mohawk and I gave my first push. Her little head stuck out a little and then sucked back inside me and it took four pushes to launch her little chicken cutlet resembling body out of me and into the arms of the doctor. My perfect, bloody, goopy, screaming baby was born! I remember someone handing her naked little body over to me and placing her on my chest and I just kept thinking about how gross she was covered in whatever else was floating around inside my belly with her and I wished that someone would wash her off. I was surprised to see that she was not the cute little infant I was expecting, but some smushed, purple colored creature that was using those tiny lungs to voice her displeasure with being ejected from her home in my belly. Eventually she was cleaned off and dried up and she started looking more and more adorable. I took a picture of her in her first little purple hospital knitted hat and showed her off to everyone on  social media. I was so in love with her and I knew in my heart that there was nothing that would ever break the bond we had with each other.  August 10th 2015, the day that Charlie Mackenzie Sonego was brought into existence. The day that I became a mother. The very best day of my entire life.

It’s hard to believe that that day was almost two years ago. I look at my daughter now and it’s almost impossible to believe that she was the same baby that I was so nervous to take home with me from the hospital. She was so fragile and perfect, I was terrified that I wasn’t going to know what to do or how to take care of her. Somehow those mothering instincts just kicked in full force and I was able to learn how to do the diaper changes and the feedings and know how to keep her safe and alive with relative ease. Looking at her today, a toddler with all of her teeth and a mop of untamed curls on her head that reaches halfway down her back when wet, its mind blowing to compare this version of Charlie with the newborn version. Being a mother has gotten so much easier in some aspects, like now she is old enough to occupy herself by playing on my phone and watching her favorite songs play on YouTube. She even knows most of the dance moves that go along with each song! One of her favorites is Happy and You Know It. Shes talking more and more every day, sometimes babbling but she knows some words so far like mama, buh-buh, shoes, eyes, hi, bye, ducks, no, and poop! She loves to watch shows on TV and Netflix, especially Sophia the First and Trolls and The Lion Guard. She likes to color, both on the bath tub with her bath crayons and on paper with regular ones. One of her favorite things to do with her Mama is go play at the park and go down slides together and also going swimming at the pool. She can throw her own dirty diaper in the trash and can say please in sign language. She wakes up every morning and calls for her Mama to come get her out of her pack and play, even though I know for a fact that she can get out by herself because I’ve witnessed it with my own eyes. For some reason she is inexplicably fascinated with brushing her teeth and I have a hard time getting the toothbrush away from her after shes finished brushing. All in all, her personality is big and expressive and she gives me a reason and a purpose for living. The world just seems brighter with her in it. I see so much pure happiness inside of her and I pray that nothing ever stifles it.  So that is my update. What is new in my life these days? Motherhood, and all of the crazy adventures that comes with it. It’s been a wild two years and I would not change a single thing. 

[bellero]

You’re No Brother Of Mine.

Yeah. Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Sorry. Anon requested- Hey! I was wondering if you could write an imagine with this scenario, when Dean went to hell Sam went nuts ofc so he dropped their little sister (15/16 yo) in Bobby's place and when Dean gets back he is pissed w Sam for what he did to you. You are also pissed and very upset w him, so one day he asks you what's the matter and you explode and tell him how painful it was to be left by him and everything. I know it's very specific but I would rlly aprecciate if you do it, can you also put fluffy?

Warnings- swearing, mentions of depression, also Sam’s kinda a dick for the first couple of paragraphs but he was high on the demon blood so that explains it.

A/N- I’ve kind of been stuck in a slump for the past week, so writing has been difficult for me but i’m feeling a bit better so i’m ready to write again!

FLASHBACKS IN ITALICS

Four months, it had been four months since Dean died, four months since Sam left you. You still didn’t understand why he left, at first you didn’t mind, you knew he needed his space after all he did witness his brother getting torn to shreds by a Hell hound. 

After a week of you staying at Bobby’s you became curious, you had rung and texted Sam numerous times but he never answered, your phone would always go to voice mail or it would just ring non-stop. After a month of silence you decided to try and track him, you tried to keep it a secret from Bobby, he thought you and Sam talked everyday, that’s what you told him. 

Bobby being Bobby knew that the words you were spouting were utter nonsense, but he decided to leave it, trusting that you’d eventually tell him what was going on.

You did tell him, two months later when you had found Sam, but he just pushed you aside like you were a stranger. So to say Bobby was pissed would be the biggest understatement of the century, when you came crashing through the door at two in the morning, with tears flowing carelessly down your face he sat you down on the couch and made you explain every detail to him, from the missed phone calls, the ghost texts, you told him how you had tracked him to a motel a couple hours away and that when you knocked on the motel door, he didn’t give you a second glance, he rolled his eyes slightly but let you in. 

----

You walked in, the atmosphere was already tense. Leaning slightly on the table you looked around the room, your eyes stopped at a woman who was sat on the couch with her feet up, she gave you a quick smile before turning her head back to the TV. 

Sam cleared his throat, you quickly snapped your head up to meet his gaze, you gave him a small smile but quickly dropped it when he didn’t return it. 

“What’re you doing here Y/N?” He asked, his arms crossed and standing tall, you narrowed your eyes and looked at him as if to say ‘you’re kidding right?’ standing up you tried to make yourself look taller, which is extremely difficult when you’re stood next to somebody who’s height was that of a Moose.

“Do you really have to ask that?” You retorted, “Sam, I haven’t seen or heard from you for three months. Three months without a single text, or call! I thought you were dead but it turns out you ditched me for some chick” you spat, you quickly turned around and faced her “no offence, I’m sure you’re a lovely person, I’m just really angry right now” you added before turning back around to face your brother who looked just as pissed off as you did, “all I needed was one text, one word to know you were okay! I understand that you miss your brother, hell I miss him too but I’m not about to loose another one” you ranted, tears stung your eyes but stubbornly refused to fall.

“Y/N, there was a reason I didn’t return your calls, there’s a reason I didn’t reply to your texts, there’s a reason I haven’t talked to you, it’s because I don’t want to. Yes, you’re my sister and I love you but I don’t need you, you coming out here was just a waste of time. So leave.” He spoke with carelessness in his voice, he really didn’t care. You stared at him in disbelief before chuckling humorlessly, you swallowed the lump in your throat, stood up and walked towards the door, walking out you turned around to face your brother, the one who you could talk to about anything. Your big brother who always vowed to protect you, your hero. 

“You know, if Dean was here he’d have kicked your ass by now. Screw you, Sam Winchester. You’re no brother of mine.” You croaked out, a couple tears escaped but you had slammed the door so he couldn’t see. Your chest felt heavy and your throat tightened, you slid into the van you had borrowed from Bobby and drove, your eyes blurry from the tears, your hands were shaking from rage. 

----

So here you were now, it had been a month since the incident with Sam and you were dreary and depressed, the most you had done was go to the store to pick up supplies for Bobby, apart from that you’d just mope around the house, you barely slept, rarely ate. You were a mess of emotions and poor Bobby, he tried everything he could to lift your spirits but nothing worked. Whenever he’d ask what was wrong he’d get the same monotone response “I miss my brothers”. 

You were asleep when Dean decided to show up, resurrected from the dead, you failed to wake up when he pounded on the front door, you failed to wake up when Bobby gripped him to test if he was a shifter, you even failed to wake up when he was sat by the side of your bed stroking your hair lightly, a small frown written across his face. He took in you appearance, your skin was paler than usual, your face had sunken slightly due to the lack of food and you had dark bags under your eyes, clearly indicating the lack of sleep. 

He turned his head to Bobby who was stood in the doorway, “what happened to her Bobby?” He asked quietly, not wanting to wake you. Bobby sighed and shook his head “Sam happened, he left her here about a week after you died. She managed to track him down but he didn’t want her there, he broke the poor kids heart” he spoke sadly, frowning when he remembered the night you came back from Sam’s.

Dean turned back to you, he was pissed. Sam was suppose to protect you, not leave you. 

Both eyes turned to you when they heard your groan slightly, you stirred and slowly opened your eyes. You froze when your eyes landed on the figure sat on your bed, you quickly reached for your knife and tackled him but was quickly pulled back by Bobby, “Y/N, calm down, it’s him, it’s really Dean” he reassured pulling the knife out of your hand, you turned to face your brother who had sat himself back up, he gave you a small grin, “hey, lil sis” he breathed, all you could do was stare at him. His hair was dishevelled, he looked exhausted, you looked into his eyes, the ones which would always bring you a sense of calming. You failed to notice that Bobby left the room, your were too distracted. 

Slowly you reached a hand out and poked his arm before quickly retreating back, he chuckled softly “yeah, I know it’s weird” he admitted, you lent forward again pinching his cheek slightly, he grabbed your hand and pulled it away from his face. It really was him, your brother was alive. You flung your arms around his neck, burying your head in the crook of his neck. Dean wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, “I missed you so much, Dean” you murmured, he smiled and hugged your tighter, “I missed you too, kiddo.”

----

“Dean, I’m not going in there” you refused, crossing your arms. Dean and Bobby found Sam and had forced you to come along with them, and by force you, Dean carried you to the car.

Dean groaned before kneeling down, placing a hand on your knee “listen, I know that Sam is the last person you want to see right now, but you can’t avoid him forever. Besides, you don’t wanna miss me kick his ass do you?” He replied with with a small grin, you rolled your eyes but a grin escaped your lips, stepping out of the car you followed Dean and Bobby to the motel.

“Okay, it should be this room..” Dean trailed off slightly before knocking on the door, the door opened revealing the same girl from before, you shook your head as memories of that night resurfaced, your thoughts were interrupted when she spoke.

“So, where is it?” She asked, you rolled your eyes and scoffed in annoyance, Dean looked at Bobby confused “where’s what?” He asked, you lent against the wall watching the conversation play out in front of you. 

You were pulled out of your trance by a familiar voice cutting through the air, “Who are you?!” Sam boomed, you looked up and saw him holding Dean against the wall with a knife to his throat. You quickly ran forward and grabbed the knife from Sam’s hand, “Sam, it’s really him, Bobby’s done all the testing. It’s him” you said calmly, you were still incredibly pissed at him for what he did but you’d rather him not kill your brother who just came back from the dead.

Sam looked at you, then looked back at Dean and then pulled him into a bone crushing hug, you smiled lightly at the two boys in front of you, “look, I should probably go..” The woman trailed off, she was now fully dressed and stood by the door, Sam turned to her “yeah. Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Sorry” he replied back awkwardly, there was an awkward silence for a couple of seconds before she spoke again “so call me” she requested, Sam cleared his throat and looked at her, “yeah, yeah sure thing Kathy” he chuckled awkwardly before turning back to Dean, “it’s Kristy” she said sounding disappointed, you narrowed your eyes in suspicion, something was going on. 

You followed ‘Kristy’ out of the room quickly catching up to her in the lobby, you grabbed her arm so she was facing you, “why is my brother acting like he doesn’t know you?” You asked, she raised her eyebrows, faking confusion,

“I have no idea what you’re taking about” she shrugged, you rolled your eyes and ran you hand over your face “you were with Sam that night when we argued, I’m not dumb so stop undermining me” you sighed, the girl looked at you with sympathy in her eyes, “I think you already have an idea of who I am..” She trailed off, you cocked your head the the side slightly confused, the girl rolled her eyes and then they flashed black. Your eyes widened as you stumbled back “Ruby?!” You yelled, she shushed you and dragged you outside, you didn’t hate her, in fact you two got on quite well, at first you despised her but she proved herself when she saved you from two demons who has cornered you in an alleyway.

You were sat on the wall outside the motel, it was silent for a while before Ruby spoke up, “Sam regrets what he said that night, you know” she said looking over at you, you rolled your eyes and shook your head, “I’m serious, as soon as he saw that van drive away he broke down, he was a mess for days after that..” She trailed off and sighed when she saw your weren’t buying it, you stood up and walked towards the entrance of the motel, you didn’t want to hear what she had to say, you wanted your brother to explain why he did what he did, to you.

Storming into the room you cut off the conversation, “Sam, can I talk to you?” You asked, he nodded his head but you looked at Dean who got the signal that you wanted to talk to him alone, “me and Bobby will be in the car, please, try not to kill each other” he spoke, you rolled your eyes and nodded your head, the two left the room and closed the door behind them.

“So, I was talking to Ruby..” You started saying, Sam’s eyes widened as he stared at you, “yeah, she told me who she was” you continued, Sam ran his hands over his face and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked up at you leaning against the wall on the face side of the room away from him, he sighed and shook his head, “Y/N, I’m sorry for what I said that night, okay? I didn’t mean any of it-” you cut him off abruptly with a loud laugh, you started pacing the room slowly, “didn’t mean any of it? It sure sounded like you meant it!” You yelled, Sam stood up “I did it to protect you!” He yelled back, you stared at him in disbelief “you abandoned me, to protect me?” You asked, “what a load of shit.” You spat.

Sam’s eyes widened, “don’t talk to me like that” he demanded causing you to laugh, “no, I’m done taking orders from you! You left me Sam, I’m aloud to be angry!” You argued, “for months I thought you were dead, then when I actually do find you, you decide to be a complete dick!” You fumed, Sam tried to cut in but you cut him off “what you said hurt me, Sam. We’re suppose to be a family and when I needed you the most you just shut me out and pretended I didn’t exist. I understand you needed your space and I was fine with that, I needed my space but telling me to leave? Saying that you didn’t need me? That was a dick move to make, it made me feel so freaking worthless, I thought that I had done something wrong, and not matter what Bobby would say to try and make me feel better it still wouldn’t work because the only family I had left didn’t want me anymore.” you concluded.

Sam felt a pain in his chest, he never wanted to be the one responsible for making you feel this way, his eyes scanned over you taking in your appearance, the bags under your eyes, he noticed that your clothes were unusually baggy showing that you hadn’t been eating properly. He rubbed a hand over his face. Stepping forward slightly he spoke, “Y/N, I’m sorry I caused all of this, I only said what I said to protect you. Me and Ruby, we’ve been looking for Lilith and I didn’t want you caught in the crossfire. I’m so, so sorry” he confessed, you refused to meet his gaze and kept your eyes fixated on the floor, you didn’t want him to see the tears that were threatening to spill over.

He placed a hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off, “Y/N, look at me” he said softly, you shook your head accidentally allowing a tear to spill out and land on the wooden floor. Sam knelt down and lifted placed a finger under your chin lifting your head to look at him, you adverted your eyes causing more tears to spill out, “Y/N, please look at me” he begged, his voice cracking slightly, you slowly looked into his hazel eyes that always switched colour in different lighting only to find them filled with tears himself, the guilt eating away at him for making you cry. 

“Y/N/N, you have every right to hate me right now, you have every right to be mad. I shouldn’t have left you. You’re my little sister and I let you down, I failed to protect you and I caused you so much pain, I’m so sorry” he apologised, a few tears escaped his eyes causing more tears to escape yours, you flung your arms over his neck and cried into his shoulder, all of the emotion you had been refusing to let show for the past four months overflowed, Sam said nothing as he held you close, rubbing circles onto your back, he sat down on the floor and pulled you into his lap as you cried, his chin resting atop of your head, “please don’t leave me again” you sniffled out, Sam’s heart broke as he tightened his grip around you, “I’m not leaving, I promise” he spoke placing a kiss on your head. 

Tag List-

@winchesters-favorite-girl @mrtumble666 @protectivebrothers @queandean@girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @keirawillow 

#supernatural #supernatural imagines #spn #spn imagines #sam winchester #sam x sister!reader #sam x reader #dean winchester #dean x sister!reader #dean x reader #bobby singer #Ruby #winchester sister #sister winchester #winchester brothers x sister!reader #winchester!sister

[rememberstilinski]

hey babygirl || theo raeken

word count: 2830

warnings: season 6 spoilers and adorable theo

prompt: none

author’s note: posted before, but my old blog was deleted, so now it’s on here!

Accepting the fact someone is gone is difficult. But accepting that the love of your life is gone, with no chance of coming back is heartbreaking in every aspect of the word. The McCall pack and I had defeated the Dread Doctors about three and a half months ago. That means Theo got dragged to hell by his sister three and a half months ago. And him being gone was taking a toll on me.

I missed him all day, every day since he's been gone. I know that he did really terrible things during his time in Beacon Hills, but I loved him nonetheless. I broke up with him after he killed Scott, and we stayed broken up. However, I still loved him and wanted to be with him. I would never forget how he made me feel.

He made me a lot happier than I've ever been. After the death of my family, I wasn't happy and I didn't think I would ever be happy again. Theo changed that. He may have brought a lot of pain, but he made me really happy. Being with him was perfect. When he got sent to hell, I wasn't even there. I was helping Malia and Stiles deal with the Desert Wolf, so I received the news second hand.

The latest supernatural threat was the Ghost Riders. They even took someone in our pack; our best friend Stiles Stilinski. We found his jeep and he ended up being a real person instead of a figment of our imagination. Today Scott, Lydia, Malia, and I went to Canaan, the place Stiles told us about when we made contact with him.

Lydia had gotten us to go with her after she had a dream about the strange town. We got there and it looked like everyone up and left. That's what we figured until we met Lenore and Caleb. Lenore was a banshee like Lydia and Caleb was Lenore's son. Hayden and Liam were working in something while we were gone, but we hadn't heard from them all day. They didn't tell us their plan either.

After a long day of almost drowning and dealing with the supernatural, it was time for me to go home. Alone in a big house filled of memories with people that were all dead and gone. My parents and little sister died during our deadpool problem. My whole family was werewolves. We were all betas but formed a strong pack. I was in aspects, apart of both Scott's pack and my family's pack.

I shrugged off my jacket, throwing it on the sofa and kicked off my shoes at the door. I sighed as I took off the healed boots, relieved that my feet were no longer in pain. Note to self: don't wear heeled boots when going to Canaan.

Walking to the kitchen, I opened the fridge and pulled out some leftover pasta from the dinner I had with Malia last night. I put the takeout box in the microwave and started the timer.

While waiting for my food to finish warming up, my mind wandered to Theo. I really missed him today, more than I usually do. When we were in Canaan, I saw him. It wasn't really him but it was a vision of him. Something in the air started making Scott, Malia, and I hallucinate. I think it was maybe wolfsbane.

I was walking around the carousel in the middle of the town square to see if I could find anything or anyone to talk to and there he was. He was sitting on the edge of the amusement park ride when I saw him. Theo looked up for his shoes and his heart stopping greenish hazel eyes met my Y/E/C eyes.

“Theo.” I whispered when I saw the figure in front of me.

He smiled softly, something he didn't do often. “Hey, baby girl.”

“W-what are you doing here?” I stuttered out. “You're not supposed to be here.” He stood up and walked over to me.

“I'm not.” His large hands grabbed mine. He looked really good. Theo’s brown hair was messily styled in his head. His face was free of any imperfections and his sharp jawline was free of any stubble. “I miss you, Y/N. And I know you miss me, too.”

“I think of you all the time.” I whispered, our gaze still connected. My eyes were threatening to let tears fall.

Theo brought his right hand to my cheek, running right on the bone. “I should've told you how much I loved you.”

Before I could say anything, a voice called my name. “Y/N!” I turned to see it was Malia that called me over. When I turned back around to look at Theo, he was gone. I sniffles and quickly wiped my tears from my eyes.

“Uh, yeah. I'm coming!” I called back to Malia.

The beeping of the microwave snapped me out of my thoughts. I shook my head and turned to grab my food. I sat myself down at the counter and ate quietly.

Just as I took my last bite, my phone rang. I looked at the clock and it was almost midnight. I pulled the device out of my pocket and looked at the Caller ID. It was Liam. And I had multiple texts from Scott and Malia.

I answered quickly. “Hello, baby blue?” I said with a smile on my face. That was the nickname I gave Liam when we first me. Cute kid.

“Hey, Y/N. Um, you need to over here as soon as possible.” Liam rushed out, sounding panicky.

I stood up and grabbed my keys from the counter. “I'm on my way right now. Is everything okay? And when you say ‘over here’, what do you mean?”

“Scott's house.” I heard Liam say into the phone. I put on the boots that I was wearing earlier and out on my jacket that was still on the sofa.

“Is everything okay?” I asked once again.

“Just hurry up and get here. I'll explain later when you arrive.” Liam said quickly and then hung up the phone.

I turned the phone off and shoved it in my back pocket. I hurried and made my way out the door, turning on the alarm system and locking before leaving. I got into the car parked in the garage and sped to the McCall household.

When I pulled in, I saw Malia’s car, Hayden’s car, and Scott’s bike. Nothing looked too out of place. Quickly turning the engine off, I got out and walked up the steps of Scott's house. I knocked on the door waiting for someone to answer.

Liam's face came into view as the door swung open. “Hey, what's going on?” Liam grabbed my wrist and pulled me in the house, staying hallway.

I heard voices but wasn't too concerned on who was talking. “Okay, listen to me. Don't freak out when you see who's in there.”

“Liam, I'm sure I'll be fine.” I shrugged, a reassuring smile on my face. Liam nodded with a sigh. He began walking towards the kitchen and gestured for me to follow him.

“Okay, guys. What's the problem this-” I said as I entered, but I was cut off when I saw what was going on. Hayden was holding a transitioned Malia in her arms and Scott looked as if he could kill. I looked to the other figure in the room and saw a familiar face.

I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth before whispering, “Theo.”

Theo smiled softly like he did when I saw him in Canaan. “Hey, baby girl.”

“W-what… h-how?” I stuttered. I had to close my eyes and reopen them to make sure I wasn't dreaming or still being affected by wolfsbane. When they opened, his perfect figure was still standing there, in Scott's kitchen.

“Why are you here?” I finally uttered. I'm sure my eyes were wide and shock was written all over my face. Liam had made his way from standing beside me to standing next to Scott.

“You guys need my help with the Ghost Riders.” Theo told me. “So, here I am.”

“How?”

“Noshiko brought Kira's sword and let Liam and Hayden use it to bring him back.” Scott said to me, his words laced with venom and hatred. That was something I've never heard in his voice.

I suddenly felt really dizzy. “I'll be right back.” I whispered. I walked to the bathroom and closed the door quickly. I had to process all this. Theo was back. Theo Raeken is back in our lives. He got out of hell. I guess if anyone could come back from hell looking perfect, it's Theo.

What did this mean though? What did this mean for the pack? For our relationship? I don't know what to do. Yes, I want to be with more than anything. When I saw him in Canaan, it felt so real. His touch felt real and I just wanted to fall into his arms. I just wanted him to hold me again. Now I have the opportunity.

A gentle knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. I sighed before opening the door. Theo was there. He was looking at his shoes, but when he heard the door, he looked up. “Y/N.” He whispered, not quite sure how to approach the situation.

“Hey.” I spoke. He brought his hand to the back of his neck, scratching nervously. I bit my bottom lip, not knowing what else to say.

“I missed you. I missed you a lot.” He said, eyebrows furrowing in a manner that said he meant the words he just said to me.

“I missed you, too, Theo.” I whispered so quietly, I wasn't sure he caught it. Apparently he did, because he stepped closer and pulled me into his embrace. His strong arms around my waist.

I wrapped arms around his neck, and leaned my head on his chest. “I'm sorry.” Theo mumbled. “I'm sorry for everything I did. I'm sorry for killing Scott. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough for you. I'm so sorry, Y/N.”

“It's okay, Theo. I forgive you.” I breathed out. “And you were perfect for me. You still are. There wasn't a day gone by that I haven't thought of you.”

He kissed my head and let me go, but held me close enough to still be pressed against each other. “How? I'm a monster. Baby, I'm barely even human.”

“Not to me. To me, you're perfect. You're everything to me. And these past four months without you have been complete and total hell.”

“You have no idea.” Theo sighed, and I let out a breathy laugh. “In all seriousness, I'm not good for you. I don't know why you're even talking to me right now.” He looked down in sadness.

I placed my hand on jaw, lifting slightly so we made eye contact. “I'm talking to you because I love you. I love you so much, Theo.”

“I love you, too, baby.” He took my hand and laced our fingers.

“Let's go home, yeah?” I asked him, my tone gentle, but serious.

“Home?” He questioned, a soft grin growing on his face.

“Home.” I confirmed.

“Okay. Let's go… home.” His happiness gave me something I haven't  had in a long time; comfort. With our fingers still intertwined, we walked back into the kitchen. Malia had finally calmed down, but she still looked angry. Scott turned to look at us and saw our hands.

“Scott, I-” I began to explain myself, but Scott cut me off.

“It's okay, Y/N. I heard everything.” Scott sighed. He looked at me and nodded.

“You're okay with this?” Theo asked, surprised.

“Not exactly, but you make her happier than I've ever seen her. You're good for her.”

“Thanks, Scott.” I whispered, but he heard it and smiled at me. Scott and Stiles were like older brothers to me. They always made me happy and they were beyond protective of me. Stiles not being here was hard, but I don't know what I'd do if him and Scott were both gone.

My gaze moved to Malia and she was looking back at me. “I don't like Theo, but I'm not going to keep you from being happy again, Y/N. You're my best friend and I want you to be happy.” She smiled. “Theo, if you hurt her, remember I'm a werecoyote who killed her own family, I won't hesitate to kill you, too.”

Theo looked genuinely scared of her words, which was strange for Theo. “G-got it.”

I cleared my throat. “Well, uh, let's get going.” Theo nodded and we walked out of Scott's home and to my car. I sat in the driver’s seat and Theo in the passenger's seat. We drove in a comfortable silence back to my home.

When we entered, we kicked our shoes off and I took my jacket off once again. “Before Liam called me, I was going to take a bath. Do you want to join me?” I asked, nervous if that sounded too desperate.

“I would love too.” He smiled. Theo picked me up bridal style and carried me up the stairs and to the bathroom. Once we were in the room, he set me back down on my feet. Theo turned on the bath and the water began to fill the big bathtub. I took off my clothes as Theo took off his. I couldn't help but admire how he looked.

His arms were still strong and very well built. His back muscles moved in such a beautiful way. His torso was toned perfectly. Theo wasn't that big, but he was a decent size. “What are you looking at?” Theo smirked as he caught me staring.

“You.” I said, confidently. Theo’s smirk turned into a smile that warmed my heart. “Ugh, I'm so happy to have you back.”

“Me too, baby girl.” I started thinking back to when he called me by my real name. He never used my real name unless it was a serious situation. He always called me princess, baby, or baby girl. All the nicknames were music to my ears.

The bath filled up to an appropriate level before we turned it off. I got in the tub first and Theo came in right after me. He sat behind me so my back was pressed against his chest. My head fell back into the curve of his shoulder. Eyes fluttering closed. He placed soft and slow kisses on my temple. He laced both of our hands and everything in this moment is pure bliss.

“I love you.” Theo whispered in my ear. The way he whispered it sent chills down my spine. The words went straight to my heart.

“I love you.” I hummed.

“Before we broke up, I was going to ask you something.” He suddenly said. I slowly opened my eyes and turned my head so I was looking at him.

I raised my eyebrow. “What is it?”

Theo’s large hands cupped my face and looked into my eyes deeply before smiling. “Will you marry me?”

I smiled, leaning into his hand. I rubbed his hand that was over my cheek. “Yes. I'll marry you.”

Theo leaned in and pressed his lips to mine in a fierce and passionate kiss. The movement was somehow intense yet relaxing. Every time I've very kissed him, it was indescribable. It made me feel different than anything I've ever felt.

His hands caressed my bare back and the touch caused goosebumps to rise in my skin. I smelt the love and lust radiating off him in chemosignals and I'm sure he smelt the same thing coming from me.

His pink lips were soft and inviting. The warmth of his skin against mine was comfortable and felt like home. My hands moved to the nape of his neck and tugged softly at the strands of hair. Theo groaned and that gave me the chance to enter my tongue.

Theo always had this vanilla taste to him. Whether it was in his lips, in his mouth, or on his skin. I don't know why, but it drove me crazy. It add me hungrier for him.

The movement of water was heard in the background. The drips falling from our body and making a soft drop into the water filled my ears, as well as his the rising of his heartbeat.

I pulled away so my lungs could grasp onto air. Our foreheads stayed pressed against each other, noses nuzzled together. “I've been waiting to kiss you since I last kissed you.”

I smiled, softly biting my lip. “Well you don't have to worry about not kissing me anymore, Mr. Raeken.”

My fiancée laughed softly, but the noise carried around the bathroom. “I can't wait to spend the rest of my life loving you, Mrs. Raeken.”

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf smuts #teen wolf smut #theo raeken #theo raeken imagine #theo raeken imagines #theo raeken smut #theo raeken smuts #cody christian #cody christian imagine #cody christian imagines #cody christian smut #cody christian smuts #tw #tw imagine #tw imagines #tw smut #tw smuts #tw season 6