#the way he meets her there adn then they leave on his last day hand in hand | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

finallydelight · 1 year

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im not sure if youre familiar enough with nct127 members but as a caratzen it would be so cute to see a markming chapter where mark officially introduces her to 127 members and they somewhat adopt her . maybe one where she even talks about it to her members when she gets back to the dorms adn cheol gets sulky because hes jealous about how much she talks about how sweet the members were to her

The Link | Ming Chapter

author's note: bold is english. there are mentions of weight loss and having anxiety. a shirtless yuta. if there is something else I forgot, pls tell me! also, im so sorry it took me this long to write! feedback, thoughts, opinions, etc. always welcome in my inbox! <3

October 22, 2022

''No kissing. No hugging. No touching!'' Cheol yelled out his demands, grabbing his stuff together and putting it in his bag. ''If any of them make you uncomfortable, I want you to tell me, okay?'' He stopped in his tracks and looked at her, one eyebrow raised.

Ming diligently nodded, holding in the urge to roll her eyes at all the ''rules'' he was spitting out about her attending the NCT 127 concert. ''Don't you think you're being a bit over dramatic?'' She dared to ask the question.

''No.'' He answered, matter-of-factly.

Joshua and Minghao walked into the living room, all ready to leave for their last schedules of the day. ''You ready, hyung?'' They stood by the door, waiting for the rapper to join them.

Cheol nodded at them, turning back around to give the youngest a goodbye hug. ''Be careful, okay?'' His remaining arm that wasn't holding his bag wrapped around her shoulders. ''Of course, now leave!'' Ming laughed, parting from the embrace.

''Bye, Mingie!'' ''Have fun!'' ''Not too much fun!'' Her three roommates left the dorm and were on their way to the cars downstairs waiting for them.

As soon as the door closed, Ming pulled out her phone, calling the person she needed most in that moment.

''Hello?''

''Soomin! What do I wear?''

''Just wait here, I'll get him for you.'' The staff member told her, before disappearing behind the door and closing it. Ming anxiously waited behind the door, the mix of different emotions becoming almost overwhelming.

It had been over two months since she had physically seen Mark. Their schedules and her hiatus prevented them from meeting somewhere in-between. She had missed seeing him, but it was a very last-minute decision to agree to his concert invite.

First, Ming was still on hiatus and being spotted at a concert while her members were putting their blood, sweat and tears into their schedules, didn't seem like the best idea. However, Mark seemed to have thought about that as well and suggested she could watch the show from backstage. That way there weren't any lurking camera's or fans, and if she needed anything there were staff members there to help her.

Second, it had been a long time since they last saw each other and that didn't exactly end in the best way. They hadn't talked about it afterwards and she doubted they would talk about it now.

A lot of things had changed in the two months that had passed. Most importantly, she had gotten closer to someone else while Mark was busy with his own activities. Also, she had seen Yeonjun more than she had seen Mark, which caused her to be very confused about her own feelings.

Mark and Yeonjun had vastly different personalities, while Mark was more on the shy and awkward side with her, Yeonjun was confident and direct about his feelings.

The opening of the door in front of her interrupted her conflicting thoughts. ''Come in quickly!'' A hand wrapped around her pulse and she was pulled into the concert building.

Once the door was fully closed and locked behind them, she was finally able to take a good look at the man in front of her. Her eyes immediately went to his freshly dyed hair, something Mark noticed. ''You like it?'' His hand instinctively went through his hair.

''It's, uh, definitely different.'' She awkwardly chuckled, quite surprised by his new hair. He laughed at her puzzled face, getting the hint she likes his darker hair better.

Mark hesitantly opened his arms, not too sure if it was appropriate or not to hug her. Ming smiled at him, finding his nervous grin endearing. She walked into his embrace, her arms secured around his waist.

A deep sigh left his mouth, as if he was relieved she was there in his arms. His head nestled in her neck as he mumbled the next words. ''Thanks for coming, I really appreciate it.'' His low voice sent chills down her spine. ''Of course, you called.'' She whispered back to him, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The hug didn't last very long, both very aware of the eyes of the crew members on them. ''How are you doing? I missed you, it's been so long.'' Mark asked her, guiding her through the hallways.

Ming hadn't given much information about her hiatus to him. He knew that it involved her family and that she needed to stay in her hometown for a while. Mark had been relieved to know that everything was stable again back at home and that she had returned to Seoul about a week prior to the concert.

He had asked her a lot about her well being and assured her he was always there for her if she needed a listening ear or literally anything else. She had politely declined each time, telling him she was doing alright and that it wasn't as bad as her members made it seem.

He realized he had downplayed her wellbeing a lot as he saw her standing in front of him. Bags under her eyes, obvious weight loss, low energy and the sparkle he always saw in her eyes seemed to have dimmed. Overall, she didn't look like herself. She still looked beautiful in his eyes, but it was noticeable that she was having a hard time.

''I'm good, how are you?''

Mark smiled. ''Now that you're here, I'm doing amazing.'' He wasn't going to mention her hiatus, he just wanted her to have a nice time.

A blush appeared on her face. ''You're too cute.''

Ming's comment seemed to have the same effect on him as he had on her, because an equalling red tint appeared on Mark's cheeks.

''Hey, uh, you don't have to, but would you maybe like to say hi to the members?'' He stuttered out the words, not confident if she wanted to go and greet his members.

Ming felt her hands beginning to shake once the question left Mark's lips. It wasn't a secret to anyone she had trouble socializing with people, especially if those people were the best friends of the guy she had a crush on.

''You really don't have to, they can be a lot at times, so I understand.''

''I would love to meet them, Minhyung.''

''Nice! They really wanted to meet you.''

The 127 members had been teasing him nonstop ever since their little mistranslation incident, especially Johnny, Haechan and Yuta. It's like they finally had something else to bug the young man about that wasn't about his farting. Mark was also curious to see how Yuta and Ming would get along, seeing as his hyung had been teasing him about the woman who ''has been taking you away from me''.

Mark motioned for her to follow him, leading her to a door of which she could hear the inside voices from a mile away because of the loudness of the noises. "I told them to behave and to not act crazy, but most of the time they don't listen to me, so I'm just warning you."

Ming didn't know how to properly answer that one, so she opted for a simple, nervous laugh. Mark gave her a soft smile before opening the door to the gates of hell.

Upon Mark and Ming walking in, the room fell a bit more quiet than what she had heard outside. It wasn't a kind of silence that made her want to crawl in a hole, but still enough for her to feel uneasy about it.

Jungwoo was the first one to break the slightly uncomfortable situation, getting up from his stylist's chair and greeting her. ''Hey, Yerim! Thank you for coming.'' He thanked her, padding her shoulder.

''Thanks for the invite.'' She tried to sound excited, drowning out the nerves that were a result of the other members staring at her interaction with Jungwoo.

''Mark, why don't you introduce her to everyone?'' Johnny asked his younger brother, his infamous smirk plastered across his face. Blood rushed to Mark's cheeks, but he took a hold of Ming's arm and brought her to his American friend. ''Yer, this is Johnny.''

Johnny's smirk turned into a comforting smile as Mark introduced her to him. ''Nice to finally meet you, Yerim.''

''Likewise.'' Ming politely returned with a small bow of her head.

''Hyung is from Chicago!'' Mark told her, remembering she had a concert there for their tour. ''Oh, that's cool! We performed there this summer, the city was great.'' She beamed, having good memories of the tour stop.

''Oh yeah, Mark told me you went there! He actually never shuts up about yo-'' ''Okay, let's move on!'' Mark interrupted Johnny, quickly pulling Ming to the next members in sight.

''This is Taeil-hyung,'' the oldest member gave her a little wave which she reciprocated, ''and this our leader, Taeyong-hyung.''

''Thank you for coming to our concert, Ming-ssi.'' Taeyong reached out his hand for her, which she shook. His polite and gentle nature was a dead giveaway he was in charge of the group, he reminded her a bit of Cheol.

Ming smiled at him. ''Thank you for having me.''

Mark was content so far, Johnny almost ruined it for him, but he's happy that the rest are actually behaving in front of her. He didn't think they would listen to him.

He guided her further through the room. ''You've already met Doyoung-hyung and Haechan.'' The two members in question gave her an acknowledging nod, which she returned.

''And here's Jaehyun-hyung.''

Ming didn't have the best impression of the man sitting in the stylist's chair. He had gotten her in trouble multiple times by snitching on her to Mingyu and she didn't really know what to say to him.

The 97-liner bowed his head. ''Hello, how are you?'' He politely asked, looking at her through the mirror. ''I'm good and you?''

''Me too,'' he replied, ''hey, I just wanted to apologize if I did something wrong? Myungho texted me a few weeks ago and told me to stop gossiping to Mingyu about you. I didn't mean for you to get in trouble or anything.'' Now she felt bad for feeling apprehensive to talk to the guy, he was super sweet.

''Oh no,'' she shook her head and hands, ''please, you don't have to apologize! It's not that serious, really.'' Ming assured him, not wanting him to feel bad about the 'snitching'.

Jaehyun let out a relieved sigh, glad she didn't seem to be angry at him. ''Okay, great.''

''Guys, where's Yuta-hyung?''

The Japanese man wasn't present in the room, confusing Mark as he was still there before he went to get Ming.

''YUTA! MARK's GIRLFRIEND IS HERE!''

Johnny was about to continue his teasing, but quickly got shut up by both Taeyong and Doyoung. Meanwhile, Mark and Ming were so flustered they looked like tomatoes.

The man everyone was looking for walked into the room, completely shirtless. Mark immediately turned Ming around, not wanting her to see any of it. ''Hyung!''

''Oh, sorry!'' Yuta apologized, putting his stage blouse on as soon as he noticed the young woman next to Mark. Once he secured everything, he approached the two 99-liners.

''So, Kim Yerim … we meet at last.''

The serious look on his face, his crossed arms and use of her full name, caused chills down her spine and not the good kind.

''Yah! Yuta, be serious!'' Taeyong scolded the man, while the rest of the group tried to muffle their laughter.

The serious look on Yuta's face immediately turned into a big smile. ''I was just kidding, it's nice to finally meet you.'' He gave her a hug, which took her by surprise. Ming hesitantly put her arms around him, still in shock from a few moments prior. ''Nice to meet you too.''

''Yerim, you want to sit down?'' Doyoung asked, being reminded of Seungkwan's texts asking him to make sure she sat down as much as possible. Before she could decline, Doyoung stood up and motioned for her to take his place.

Ming thanked him and sat down on the couch, putting her purse on her lap. ''Yer, I'll be right back, I still have to change my clothes.'' Mark told her, crouching down before her.

She wasn't too fond of the idea of being alone with people she only met so many minutes ago. ''Okay.'' Mark smiled and got up.

She felt someone taking the space next to her, turning her head, she saw it was Doyoung, who was already fully ready for the concert. ''Hey, Yerim.''

''Hi''

''Soonyoungie said you went to the IU concert here in September, how was it?'' He asked her, striking up a conversation to make her feel more comfortable.

Ming started realizing some of the members probably had sent some messages to the NCT members about her attending the concert, so this either could go good or bad.

''Yeah, it was really good! I got to meet her as well after the show, it was so cool.'' She answered him, reminiscing about the IU concert.

Doyoung nodded along to her words, attentively listening to what she had to say. The space on the other side of her dipped and as she turned to see who it was, she saw Jungwoo holding his phone in front of him.

''She's here, Seungkwannie.''

Jungwoo held his phone in front of her and she was met with the one and only Boo Seungkwan who appeared on his phone screen. ''Ming Mingie! Did you arrive well?''

Ming could hear some of the staff and 127 members laughing at Seungkwan's words, she felt completely embarrassed.

''Yeah, I'm here.'' Her voice came out small, not wanting to draw much attention to the interaction with her member.

Seungkwan looked amused on the other side of the phone. ''Are they being nice to you?'' He continued asking, fully aware he was humiliating her.

''Yes, they're really nice.''

''Am I embarrassing you?''

''Yes.''

Seungkwan, as well as the 127 members, laughed at her reaction. Ming couldn't even look at the screen anymore, too embarrassed by Seungkwan.

''Ah, Yerim-ah! How is it there?'' Soonyoung appeared next to Seungkwan on the screen and Ming loudly sighed, much to everyone's amusement.

''Don't you guys have schedules?'' Even if the members weren't physically there, they made sure there was a way for them to be with her in some kind of way. Ming absolutely loved her members to death, but all she wants is one evening without them.

Seungkwan got the hint. ''I think she wants us to leave, hyung. Her brothers are embarrassing her in front of her boyfriend's friends.'' He couldn't help but throw in one last tease.

''Bye Seungkwan! Bye Tiger!''

Jungwoo hung up the phone, doing his best to hold in his laughter. ''He suddenly called me, asking how you were doing.'' He explained to her, standing up and going back to his stylist's chair.

''Hey, I'm back!'' Mark appeared in front of her again, wearing his white stage outfit. ''You, uh, want to go outside for a bit?'' It was obvious he wanted her alone for a moment, without any of his members staring or eavesdropping. ''Of course.''

''Behave yourself, Mark Lee!'' Johnny yelled out, right before Mark and Ming left the room.

''They weren't too much, I hope? They kinda toned it down from what they usually do.'' He hadn't heard what they had said to her when he was changing his clothes.

She shook her head. ''They were very sweet, Seungkwan-oppa called Jungwoo, so I was busy with that.'' Ming chuckled, sending a quick glance his way.

He led her to a more secluded area, away from the crew, camera's and most importantly, teasing members. ''Aaah~ that's good.''

''But seriously, thank you so much for coming here, I really appreciate it.'' Ming became almost emotional with how sincere and grateful Mark sounded. Ming momentarily rubbed his arm. ''You really don't have to thank me, Minhyung.''

''No, I do! The last time we spoke, it was… well you know,'' he stuttered, remembering Chenle's teasing at the Dream Show, ''and I was kinda scared that maybe you didn't wanna hang out with me anymore, so when you said agreed to come- I don't know, it just made me very happy, Yer.'' With the way he was speaking, it almost sounded like a confession.

Ming's cheeks colored red for the nth time that night. ''You're making me flustered, I don't know what to say.'' Her hands rubbed her cheeks, trying to cool them.

Mark took a step closer to her, once he noticed no one was around. ''Hey, uh, I have to go in a few minutes, but, uh, I was wondering if I, uh, well, if you maybe- you don't have to if you don't want to, I know we haven't seen each other in a while and, uh-''

''Minhyung-ah,'' Ming interrupted him, ''calm down, it's just me.'' Mark was a stuttering mess and as much as Ming loved him in a flustered state, she didn't want him to be this nervous in front of her.

He nodded, looking at the ground. ''In like one minute, they're gonna ask me to come down and I need a lot of luck tonight for the show, so if you don't mind would you be able to, uh, give me a good luck-'' ''Kim Yerim, is that really you?''

''Oh, for fuck's sake.'' Mark muttered as he was interrupted.

Ming looked behind the frustrated man and saw Taeyeon and Minho approaching them. She quickly bowed as they were senior artists. ''Hello, sunbaenims!'' She greeted them.

''They didn't tell me you were here! Oh, hi Mark.'' Taeyeon immediately went in for a hug, while briefly addressing the NCT member.

Minho stuck out his fist for a fist pump and she reciprocated, nervously laughing while doing. ''Mark, they want to take a picture with the entire group, we came to find you.'' He explained their sudden appearance.

While Minho and Mark were busy with each other, Taeyeon whispered in Ming's ear. ''I didn't know he was your boyfriend.'' A slight smirk attached to the sentence.

Ming quickly shook her head. ''No, no, we're just friends.''

''Friends don't look at each other like that.''

Taglist: @mystic-luv @cosmicwintr @mythicalamphitrite @billboard-singer @stopeatread @still-astray @sakuurra @multiplums @giverosespls @seongwhaffels @kimhyejin3108 @smoooore

#ming.svt #kpop oc #kpop au #kpop addition #14th member of seventeen #seventeen oc #seventeen 14th member au #seventeen 14th member #seventeen addition #seventeen au #mark lee x oc #mark x oc #seventeen extra member #seventeen added member #seventeen female oc #seventeen female added member #seventeen female addition #seventeen female member

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fkyumerica · 3 months

Text

hahahha

youtube

Project Silence (2023) Official Trailer with English Subtitles | Korean Movie

silence for them

after fucking everyones brain up

no fucking way woodies

i got your award

800 dogs together will just kill people

and inject them with speed and set them on fire

and throw sharpened steel and blow up the brooklyn bridge again

and shoot your dad

and his 3 wives

and your child died

fight me now

and meter read her

17 gas stations brian would go to

and crack drop all of them

every other store had another wife

and fucked his great grandson zachy every other time

to shit

and pull his pants up

brian shit

to show he was gay

brian is gay

wont love agian doesnt give a shit

gives up his wives after

zachy takes them

and shoots them now

but zachy would mate with them before

i told him to shoot them

youtube

The Sadness (2021) Red Band Trailer | Zombie Horror Movie

holy shit

cut through tendon, she aint hurting me, cut through esophagus completly

knife scene

how to do it

with speed esaphogas, thought he was fucking me at the time

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uN-uCYFQCvo whole town of 1,400 of these giant men

Mr. Incredible becoming uncanny "You wake up and see"

i would scream, and these people would run up then run away

it meant rape her

about me

and now the screams of those men in cars police sirens

fucking girls

to be 18ft tall after

then in the olympics to kill you

and stadiums to kill you

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BRGTVvOfzjs and gunner guys in their houses to kill you

Best Death Scene Ever

getting one girl to do it was asking her on a date

and will follow you to steal yours until she is dead

fuck she knows it

i had to film it

with chuck

laughing my ass off

they would run them like steer to use them for meat too

first sex

then that eat them

and live

no society

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T973BPI4ZDY they would look like this, one who would say it

The Sadness (2021) Red Band Trailer | Zombie Horror Movie

sex then no society

and eating them, black teeth

meet them with that, and they will stand there adn talk to you

women sit on the ground, but will go up to you really fast to give you oral

that guy would say, wont talk

about what she just did

each area needed to do it

in his family

find them young and do it

hitler would

if motorcycles and scooters only last a few years

it might be smaller to bigger

to live

they will show up as anyone again

"got that kid" andput rocks in their face

to look like that person

i know, i know you know me too

they read what i wrote and say it after

guys say i know

the men in womens clothing say i know you know me too

the men in dresses say i know you know me too

and turn around

the old man with black teeth

and send the men in womens clothing at you

to go down and bite your genitals

on both men and women

with claw hands on it too

to grab it

for you to stay

one night in bandcock

and the older man brings out a oyster

opens it

and shows you pearls

got them out of older women, no men

tell me the tale

it was abortions of raped xenomorph

oysters

now shock them again

say no it wasnt

they blow it off and leave, wont listen

thsoe are the men who do it, the oral

yyounger

older are able to control them and take advantage of them

did it young wont do it again

then run at you to claw grab at your throat

if she did it young she was raped young

i would strangle people

and look like me

men talk to them all day

from different areas

it was what they were talking about how they would talk

and i get to go there now

and they leave on boats

wh osays it

really

black teeth

cant tell?

oyster

we rape you more

stupid to her

they would worship me

war ship, get it

now anyways or its different

i can be him

and send them at you

someone stole my cake decorating kit

fatima did and hobo bag gave it to anne marie

where

i said it

what drugs to se

are you only of

scottish, i cant talk i just go to fuck

or wht neighbor find them and kill them

or they war ship at you

you know scottish by now

what those people are

they are called scottish

biggest thing there

them

in the stands

all of them

for court

the judges chair isnt a stand

he is taking one at them

officers cant look it

where do they go to attack the officers

straight at them to claw choke them

Home Decor

Awesome Cake Decorating Ideas

Facebook

these cakes are beautiful

then i heard i cant get any after

so why do i send it to you

and after the theft, lets give her big ears now

can we do it

she said yea

fatima should be shot

fake mask girls

matildas line with the full house girls

her line means descendants

cant understand

you are huffing something

illegally

i can kill you for my own safety as an officer

and other officers

your group is the only thing that surrounds you

the rest are assassins

who can legally kill you

and your family

they will be

and what cakes wont you see either

or be allowed to

you wont see this beauty in your life

and i dont need you to build me a house

rip up your own face you fucking nuts

i wont give you anything

anddd fuck yourself up

for doing it

crrack heads will

dont like you

#Youtube

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nathanhaley · 3 years

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first day // last day

#b99 #b99edit #jake x amy #peraltiago #brooklyn nine nine #jake peralta #amy santiago #i saw the lift and realised and then i couldn't not sorry not sorry #the way he meets her there adn then they leave on his last day hand in hand #~

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magalidragon · 3 years

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paris is always a good idea | a Jonerys Drabble

Thank you @youwerenevermine for my wonderful birthday gift, I love it so much and I love Paris so much and Jonerys and you for making this for me so I felt inspired and wrote a quick little drabble thing, lol. It’s only the fourth time I’ve written Jonerys in a modern, non-Westeros world, but it was fun! And I wanna’ go back so much! Paris, je t’aime!

They met while in university, oddly enough, as fate would have it, on her birthday.

She had been there to study art, for a year abroad, savoring every last second wandering the wide, arched hallways of the Louvre, staring at grand masters for hours on end, burning the vibrant colors and mesmerizing brushstrokes into her memory, wishing she could be as good as them one day. One day, someone would have her art in their house, and proudly boast they'd gotten it back when she was but a nobody, painting on the streets or in the grassy parks.

Since it was her birthday, she decided to treat herself, and instead of heading straight to the university to get some time in the studio, she decided to get an ice cream at Berthillon, heading to the Ile-St-Louis instead of to the metro, taking her time to admire, as she often did, the glory of Notre Dame, it’s gargoyles and buttresses.

At the glacier she took her time selecting a flavor, did not even mind paying the exorbitant price and shouldered through tourists taking refuge from a cold rain that had begun to fall. She savored it, the clean water bouncing off her peat coat and the beanie she’d tugged over her silver hair.

She was about to set off, to eat her ice cream and wander into the Marais, perhaps drop down into the Latin Quarter— maybe take a trip to Chanel or Dior or Celine to admire the creations she couldn’t afford— when her ice cream went flying, straight onto the wet sidewalk. Where a mass of pidgins attacked it with gusto.

“Merde! Faites attention!” she shouted, stomping her Doc Marten on the ground in petulant annoyance.

The man who had bumped her because he’d been roughhousing with another friend had been apologetic. He bought her another and said his name was Robb Stark. He was from Scotland, was on spring break with his buddies, which she didn’t care about. To apologize he invited her for a drink, especially when the worker who she’d told it was her birthday had commented on it again when she got another ice cream.

She figured why not? He was attractive, sorry, and nice enough so she agreed, although she had commented his French was terrible best to speak English. “You’re English?” he had teased.

“Half and half,” she answered. English father, French mother.

At the comptoir where she suggested they meet, in Montmartre, she brought her roommate Missandei and Missandei’s boyfriend Grey. It was just a drink and they’d leave and go to the dinner Missandei planned to take her to anyway.

Except that’s where she met him.

The dark, brooding figure at the tiny table in the corner, ignoring Robb and Robb’s friend Theon, and a couple others, favoring silence and his drink. He was in all black, barely acknowledging her and slipped out for a smoke when Robb began to shamelessly flirt. She didn’t care about Robb, she cared about him.

Jon.

She exited, saw him lighting a cigarette against a lap post. She flicked her coat collar up and sidled towards him. “Puis-j’en avoir un?”

“Sorry I don’t speak,” he began, and his eyes— black in the orange lamplight glow— flicking to her. He smiled gently “French.”

She smiled and repeated her question in English. “Can I have one? A smoke that is?”

He stuck the cigarette between his pouty, sinful lips, framed with a cropped dark beard, and reached into his coat pocket, removing a pack. She took one delicately and he lit it, cupping his hands around the tip so the wind didn’t blow it out.

A stream of smoke escaped her nostrils when she puffed and she smiled up at him, hoping he got the hint. “Do you like Paris?”

“Not especially.”

“Aw come on,” she teased. She hummed, closing her eyes and taking in the cold night. The electric buzz is people on the street and at the cafes and bars around them. “Paris is always a good idea.”

“Someone famous said that.”

“Audrey Hepburn.”

He sucked on the cigarette and smiled, a tiny one, the curve of his lip sly rather than shy. “You aren’t in there with the rest of them.”

“Because it’s my birthday and I want to do what I want to do.” She stubbed the cigarette out on the post and turned, disposing it in the bin by the door. A quick text to Missandei: I’m going to skip dinner, I think I have a date, she turned and studied him. “I’m…”

“Dany,” he said. He shrugged, finishing his smoke. “I remember.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think you were listening when Robb introduced me.”

“I was.” He pulled the tartan scarf around his neck tighter. He glanced towards Sacré-Cœur, illuminated white in the lights around its base. He smirked at her. “You going back in?”

She shook her head. “No,” she drawled. She followed his gaze to Sacré-Cœur. “Have you been up there?”

“No.”

“You should. Some of the best views of Paris.”

He chuckled, voice tight. “You should invite Robb.”

“I think he might be a third wheel.”

It took him a second, the gears in his mind turning, understanding what she was saying. He cocked his head. His black curls were in a mess around his face. A few scattered rain drops landed on them, and he shook it free like a dog. Or a wolf, she thought, noting the animal embroidered on the edge of his scarf.

He narrowed his eyes again. “I told you I don’t really like Paris.”

“Why?”

“It’s loud. Busy. Dirty.”

She laughed. “Every city is like that but in Paris it’s different.”

“Why?”

Her bravado got the better of her and she stepped towards him, linking her arm through his. If he didn’t get it now, he was a stupid fool who deserved it when she kicked him into the gutter. “Because,” she murmured, rising to her toes, trying to gaze as directly as she could into his eyes, which she now saw were actually gray. His breathing quickened. “You’re with me.”

The wolf got the point with that comment. He allowed her to keep her arm around his and lead him towards the cathedral. They spoke of nothing and anything on the long walk through Montmartre to the highest point in the city.

He was in Paris for a research trip. He was studying medieval weapons and was going out to Bayeux to study some relics. His cousin Robb and friends came along for the free trip. They spoke about being starving artists in their field-- her literally an artist as it were. They talked about Paris-- how much he disliked it, how much she adored it. The top of Sacre-Coeur might have changed his mind, but he pretended he still didn’t get the appeal, so she dragged him back down to the streets, to her favorite all-night boulangerie, into the metro and across town to the Eiffel Tower, spinning in circles on the Champs du Mars. They ran across the Pont-de-la-Concorde and across the Tullieries. They wandered down the Seine, smoked cigarettes in the doorsteps of old buildings in the Latin Quarter, and drank cheap wine in one of the tourist-cafes near the Jardin du Luxembourg.

They meandered back through the streets, the city oddly quiet, the rain stopping, and she brought him to her garret studio in the Bastille, up the six flights of stairs to the top of the building, where she shed her coat and boots adn scratched her fat cat Drogon’s ears, leading him to the wrought-iron bars in one of the four windows she had, pushing the window open and crawling out, up onto the roof where she wanted to show him something.

“Look,” she directed, when he climbed up next to her-- less gracefully-- pointing to the lit-up Eiffel Tower.

He cursed under his breath. “It’s gorgeous.”

“It’s my favorite place in Paris. The rent is steep, but it’s worth it for this.” She chuckled. “And it has the best view.”

He whispered. “Yes, it does.”

And to her surprise, since she didn’t realize the time, the tower began to twinkle, the 20,000 lights across its metal beams flickering and she glanced sideways; he wasn’t watching the tower, but her face. She arched her brows. “You know, the lights twinkle for five minutes every hour, on the hour.” She smiled and shrugged, whispering. “It’s a sign that you’re supposed to return to Paris.”

Instead of saying anything, like how silly that was, he leaned in and cupped her face in his wide palm, callused and warm, bringing her face to meet his, kissing gently, in the twinkly glow of the lights. He pulled back a moment later, breathing, “I think I like Paris. And you’er right...this place has the best view.” His eyes were wide on hers, focused. She chuckled, nodding in agreement, and pulled him back to her for another kiss.

That night she savored every moment with him, as they pulled each other’s clothes off slowly, kissing and touching, every smooth curve and muscle of each other, each hard ridge and plane of his strong, muscular body or her soft, lean one. He touched her and kissed her and stroked her in ways she’d never experienced, bringing her to heights she’d only dreamed about. It was intense, the lights behind her closed eyelids when she came, over and over, gripping his shoulders, hair, the bedframe behind her. He rose up and over her, in and out, their bodies moving as one, thrusting and arching.

She didn’t know if she’d see him again; if this was a one-time, romantic Parisian adventure, but in the morning when she woke, she found him coming back inside from getting pastries and coffees, the faintest scent of cigarettes and her toothpaste on his lips when he kissed her good morning.

They exchanged their information, vowing to speak daily, and he would see her when he got back from Bayeux. She couldn’t believe when he did call and he kept his word. “When you lie, words lose their meaning,” he’d explained, obviously reading her surprise.

And when her year ended in Paris, she found herself in London, back at university, dreaming of their magical time there, even when they made time for each other, going back and forth from London to Edinburgh; and he from Edinburgh to Paris during the last couple of months of her year there.

They made it a priority; every single year they spent time in Paris, like they were students again, on that magical night.

They grew older, no longer needing to find the cheapest drinks and cigarettes, or staying in studio garrets, eventually able to experience some of the best hotels and restaurants the city had to offer, as he sold books and became a well-known author and professor, and her dream of becoming a famous artist came true, when sure enough, someone bought one of her paintings on the side of the Seine, someone who happened to be an art dealer in New York.

It was their city, where they met, and where they could remember.

After they married, about fifteen years after that fateful birthday, they visited again, and spun together on the Pont-Neuf, kissing and murmuring how they loved each other and always would, and he took her back to the tiny studio garret, which was now theirs, and sat on the rooftop and watched the Eiffel Tower sparkle.

“Paris is always a good idea,” she murmured, head in the crook of his neck, her back to his front, wrapped in a warm blanket, and his arms tight around her middle. She tilted her face up to his, sated, and still hopelessly in love with him. “Take me to Paris, Jon.”

He nuzzled his nose into her cheek, whispering. “You are Paris, Dany.”

As it was the city where they’d met, fallen in love, and found true happiness, she grinned, because that was his way of saying how much he loved her. She brushed her lips over his, sighing, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And they kissed, as the Eiffel Tower lit up, and she curled up into him, falling asleep in the city of love and lights.

#jonerys #jonerys au #jonerys drabble #Erika's gorgeous moodboards!#my random drabbles #Paris is always a good idea #Paris and jonerys is a better idea #happy birthday to me lol

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peakyblinderswhore · 3 years

Text

DAY 3 ⇨ MATRESS ANGELS

GENRE: Christmas!au, Fluff I’m a fucking liar, Smut, 18+ only.

PAIRING: Michael x Reader

SYNOPSIS: Michael and yourself weren’t exclusive but strictly speaking, you did spend an awful amount of time together that certainly suggested that you were. Spending the night at Polly’s on Christmas Eve would only make this assumption more valid. On the assumption that you are exclusive, Polly offers up one of her rooms... with one bed. What are two, young, hormone-filled adults going to do with just one bed?

W/C: 3.4k

WARNINGS: it’s fucking dirty, yo. swearing, oral (m + f receiving), cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), degradation kink(?), hair pulling, spit is used as lubrication (it’s the 1920′s, c’mon), it doesn’t really have anything to do with christmas, pwp, it’s the dirtiest shit i’ve ever written, tiny tiny overstimulation, dom!michael, sub!reader ig, sex, sex, more sex, uh that’s it i think

A/N: to that one anon who always asked me for michael smut. yeah. you know who you are. i’m not sure if i’m writing this out of anger or to please you. bruh i love you fr fr though. in the heat of the moment i actually wrote something. lol hats off to you though.

cross posted onto ao3 here

“Michael, there’s only one bed,” you whisper to him.

He hums, “Mum must’ve had an inkling about us. I can sleep downstairs if you want,” he offers, raising an eyebrow.

The two of you were spending Christmas at Polly’s as per your suggestion in her townhouse out in the countryside. To be fair, you had mentioned it in passing after Polly had mentioned that she would have more than enough room for Michael to stay for the eve of Christmas and to be there the morning of to save journey time. He had winced and his hand that rested on your lower back firmed, he didn’t know how to reply and you could sense that through the thin material of your dress.

“I don’t know, Mum, I was going to do my rounds with Y/N.”

Polly’s eyes had lingered over Michael’s hand that rested on your back but only momentarily, you had noticed this but pretended not to when you said, “Well, I was only going to visit Michael... if you don’t mind me staying the night too I’d be more than happy to make up for the burden.”

That was two weeks ago. And here you were, staring at the bed. The singular bed. The only bed in the room. At least it was a double.

“It’s okay,” you say, referring to his offer of sleeping elsewhere, “we’re adults. We can share one bed.”

Michael perches on the end of the bed and takes off his shoes, opting for something more comfortable, while you lay down on the other side, arms spread out wide, trying to think of something to say to keep the conversation going and to stop your mind from wandering.

“Let’s make snow angels!”

“Pardon?”

“I said,” you reiterate, pushing yourself up on an elbow to look at Michael peering over his shoulder at you, “let’s make snow angels!”

“How old are you?” although his comment doesn’t hurt as his grin widens on his face as he shifts his body to face you properly, “plus,” he begins, “It’s a mattress, much less, er, snow than what we would need.”

“...Mattress angels?”

Michael’s eyes suddenly darken and he makes his way to crawl towards you, I know what we could do...” his voice trails off and his fingers circle the skin where your dress finished suggestively.

“Michael!” Your face heats up form the suggestion, mortified that he would want to do something that dirty with Polly just a few doors down, “Polly, your Mother,” you emphasise, “is only a few doors down.”

He shrugs his shoulders and smirks, “Worried she might hear you?”

You snap your legs shut and sit up abruptly, startling him and forcing him to sit back again, “She’s not going to hear us because it’s not happening.”

Michael pulls back, not one to push you into somehting that you didn’t want to do, “Alright,” he moves on with the conversation, “Mum said we can go down for a late night snack or join her for a drink in a few.”

“Sounds good,” you say, thankful for Michael respecting your wishes, “I’ll slip something a little more comfortable on, then.”

Downstairs, Polly was passed out on the settee, a glass resting on the arm of her chair, her head resting on the back of her chair, lightly snoring. She had mentioned something earlier about being busy last night and the morning following it on. You smile and Michael chuckles, “We wouldn’t have had anything to worry about.”

You press a soft kiss to his lips, “This is nice though.”

“It is,” he presses a kiss back, kissing you slowly like he’s trying to savour every second he can to the fullest. His hands are resting on your hips, mindlessly rubbing circles with his thumbs whilst yours hang loosely around his neck, fingers scratching at the bottom of his hairline.

The fire crackled in the background as you and Michael continued to deepen the kiss, devouring each other as you began licking into the other’s mouth, tasting the wine that Michael had with his dinner earlier on. It gave him an intoxicating feel, making you want to taste this forever, his musk filling your senses and his fingers trailing your waist, contemplating whether or not to go much further. When Michael pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, he looked down to where his hands rested before flitting up to meet your gaze. His mouth was hung open, drinking in all the air that he couldn’t get moments ago.

“We should stop, you didn’t want to earlier and I’m afraid that if we continue I won’t be able to stop.”

Your eyes fill with lust, he notices but waits for you to say the word, “She is asleep,” you manage to whisper, still praying that she’s fast asleep adn far from waking up anytime soon.

“You can’t take it back if you say it.”

“I know...” you bring your lower lip between your teeth and bring your fingers to face, cupping his cheeks, you say, “take me upstairs, Michael.”

His mouth finds yours and he pushes your mouth open with a swipe of his tongue, moulding your mouths together as his hands wrap underneath your thighs. You obediently jump, locking your ankles behind his back and he holds you up by your ass. He doesn’t open his eyes as he walks up the stairs, sure you should’ve been worried but his mouth was much more captivating at this precise moment in time.

Before you knew it, you were being laid out on the singular bed in your room that you were staying in. Michael let go, kicking off his slippers and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. When he connects your mouths again, it’s a clash of teeth and tongues and your hands instantly reach for the warmth underneath his shirt. His hand reaches behind your head and pulls at the pins holding your hair together before throwing them in the vague direction of the dresser that had become home to your limited luggage.

You had locked your legs around his waist again, aching for the feeling of his hard cock against your heated core, praying for some kind of friction that would relieve your need for him. His hands rested either side of your head, slowly crawling onto the bed to meet you level with him.

At this, you arched up, pulling your hand from his shoulder and slipping off your robe and pushing it to fall off of the bed and then reach to unbutton his shirt all the way and throw it on the floor with your robe. This meant Michael was half naked but you still had a slip on. He lifted a hand and wrapped his fingers around your throat, pulling you up to meet his tongue and to see how far he could get his tongue before you whined, like you usually did.

Whimpering, Michael smiled at your vocal plead to move on, unravelling his fingers from your throat and connecting his lips to your neck, wanting to see how far he could get you without touching you.

He bites and licks at your neck, enough to make your eyes roll and your nerves to tingle, making your fingers curl in his hair, tugging from the pleasure. You breathe heavily against his ear and push him away from your neck, unbuckling his belt with eager fingers, but as you were about to push his trousers down to his thighs, he stops you and presses a firm kiss to your lips.

“Let me,” he whispers against your mouth, “just...” his voice fades away as he lowers his head to your perk nipples, showing evidently through the incredibly thin slip you were wearing. Without a second to spare, he latches his teeth to your nipple, lightly pulling them, making you fidget from the sensitivity you were currently experiencing. Then, he circles his tongue on your areola thorugh the fabric, leaving a wet patch before capturing your breast in his mouth.

“Oh, sweet Jesus, Michael...” your head rolls, “I’m begging you to fuck me... like you mean it.”

Grunting, he pushes his trousers down and kicks them off, obediently, not wanting to miss this moment, either, “I fucking love you so much right now.”

You lift your head to view his figure. His eyes were ravaging your body as he thought about what to do next. You grasped the bottom of your slip and pulled it over your body and reached a hand down to acknowledge your throbbing pussy.

“Oh fuck, that’s hot.”

You giggle, “Do something about it then, won’t you,” you pout and put on the best puppy eyes you can, “please?”

Immediately, his tongue swirls over each of your taut nipples and down your stomach, loops your belly button and nudges through your pubic hair to your clitoris. His lips attach and suck for dear life, making you let out the girthiest moan you’d ever heard from your own body, making you slap you hand over your mouth as Michael continued, refusing to let up. He reaches a hand below your leg, hooking it over his shoulder and bringing his hand around it to rest on your inner thigh to hold it in place. His other hand runs along your folds, teasing you. He halts briefly to push his fingers past your soft lips, lubricating them with your saliva before bringing them back down and pushes one slowly into your hole.

“Tell me... use your words with me,” he growls against your clit.

His tongue doesn’t leave your clit, swiping his tongue from your hole to your clit and mimics the tongue twister you had joking taught him one time.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you breathe out in breathy moans just as he pushes a second finger into your pussy, meaning that you were now barely able to string together a coherent sentence. It was more than enough feedback for him, what with your fingers tightening around the strands of hair you had in your fists, he responded to everything your body was telling him. “You like that, baby? Huh?” His eyes flick up to watch as you begin to fall apart, breathing heavy and eyes unfocused.

“Y-yes.”

Still pushing his fingers in and out of you, he continues feeling around for the spot that he knew was nearby -- he was no stranger to your body this intimately.

“How about this, then?”

He lifts his head from your throbbing pussy and lets his hand that was locked around your thigh move to rub calculated circles over your clit. He spits onto his fingers as they continue to move in and out to allow an easier slide.

At this point, his fingers hit the spot and your body arches, lifting away from the bed, “Th-there, don’t... s-stop.”

Now knowing where he was aiming for, he allows his fingers to move at a faster pace and lets his thumb rub harder circles into your clit. He bends his head down to lick stripes into your pussy wherever he could, occasionally lifting his thumb to switch for his tongue and vice versa, pushing you to the edge.

“Yes, Michael, yes!”

He switches his fingers for his tongue, pushing in and out of your entrance, wanting to taste you.

“Wanna taste you,” he says, “can you do that for me, baby?”

You bite your lip and nod, “Mhmm.”

His thumb continues its attack on your clitoris and within seconds your coming apart on his face. Micahel laps up your release on his tongue and helps you ride out your high.

When your body relaxes and your fingers uncench his hair his lifts his head, lips glistening from your arousal, “You taste so fucking sweet.”

Ignoring him, you pull his face up to yours and begin to kiss him sloppily, mind still foggy from your orgasm only moments ago. You smile at the taste of yourself still fresh on his lips and reach a hand down between the two of you to address the, ahem, third member present in the room.

Michael moans as your fingertips brush lightly across the strained material of his underwear, over his erect cock.

“Your turn,” you mumble, “wanna make you cum.”

Tucking your fingers under the band of his underwear, you push them down to his knees and push at his chest lightly, making him lay back so you could pull them off all the way. The soon got lost in the jumble of clothes piling up on the floor.

Swinging your hair over your shoulder, you thumb lightly at the head of his cock, swiping the moisture that had gathered and spreading it before circling your fingers around his rock hard cock and pumping it a couple of times.

Michael bites his lip, holding back a low groan, “Suck,” he demands.

Willingly, you grin and wrap your lips around the head and swirl your tongue around the tip. You begin to gradually push his dick further into your mouth, flattening your tongue on the underside of his dick and humming. Bobbing your head up and down, Michael knots your hair around his fist and helps you maintain your rhythm. “Y/N, just like that,” he groans out. You let your hand travel down to your pussy and to play with your clit, getting off on Michael’s moans dancing through the air like a sweet lullaby to your sinning ears.

“Greedy slut,” he says, grinning, “can’t wait for your second orgasm when I haven’t even had one?”

You stop toying with your clit and decide to see just how far you could take his cock in your throat and hollow your cheeks. At this, you could practically feel it twitch in your mouth. You press your hands onto his thighs to balance yourself as you lower your head until your nose is nudging the hair at the base of his cock. He lets out an almighty growl as he strains himself, not wanting to buck into your mouth but you moan at the feel of him and he fucks into your mouth, cock hitting the back of your throat and tears filling your eyes from the stinging.

“Fucking hell...” he moans out.

You lift your head and bring one hand to the base of his cock, squeezing at different pressures before lifting your lips from his cock and releasing it with a pop. You wipe the tears with the back of your free hand.

Michaels head lifts to meet your eyes. You smile, saliva dribbling down your chin, “Good?”

His eyes darken at the question, “Do that again and I might cum down your throat.”

Your eyes squint at the challenge and you drop your head to lick a stripe from the base of his cokc to the tip, making him shiver from the pleasure but before you could drop your lips to his cock again his hand grips at your neck, “Not today, baby. I need to fuck you.”

He pulls you up and goes to flip you but you quickly blurt, “Can I be on top?”

“Fuck yes, you can.”

He helps you up to hover above his erect penis. You grip it tightly and guide it towards your entrance before sinking down onto it.

“Oh, Michael,” you groan at the girth of his dick, pushing your pussy open.

“Y/N how are you so fucking tight?”

You laugh a little, the sting of the stretch of his dick stopping you halfway and settle on resting your hands on his chest, “Why don’t you fuck me more often?” You counter.

Michael’s eyes darken more — if that’s even possible — and lifts you off his dick almost entirely before slamming into you, making you whine.

“Like that?”

“Yes,” you whimper.

You move forward to rest on your elbows, the sting subsiding from the stretch and begin to move your hips in a swiveling motion, not wanting Michael to abolish your pussy before you’d even started.

“Such a fucking tease.”

You clench your pussy around him, loving the jolt of pleasure that ran through your body at his comment, “Oh, shit.”

“You like that? You dirty little slut, soaking my dick for me.”

Meeting your swivels, Michael sets the pace, thrusting up and everytime you bit back a moan from echoing against the walls.

“Michael,” you whimper out, making him throw his head back and growl at your needy self.

You try to force Michael to go slower but he only ghosts his fingers across your clit, rubbing vicious circles into it. Your head falls forward and you groan as he grunts with every thrust.

He was forcing you to edge quicker than you would’ve liked but the high outweighed any con your fuzzy brain could muster up when the pleasure Micahael was inducing soared through your pussy and to the coil in your stomach, slowly tightening the more he did it.

“Michael, s-so close...”

At this he pulls out and flips you so you’re on your hands and knees and he’s behind you, lining up his cock with your centre and sinking in, once again met with the warmth of your velvety walls.

He slams into you, once again and continues to pound at the same speed, making every thrust harder than the last, somehow reaching further than the last time.

“Hold it for me, baby, can you do that for me?”

You whimper in response, already so close as it is and not sure how much longer you can fend it off.

Michael grips your hair and pulls you back so you arch up and your back meets his chest, “I asked a question, can you do that?”

“Yes. Fuck me, Michael.”

“Good, little slut.”

You clench at that and he lets go of your hair, stabilising himself by gripping your hips hard enough that there would probably be finger-shaped bruises but you didn’t care — not when he was pounding into you, hitting your spot just right, “Right, there, Michael, I’m so fucki—”

He sneaks a hand round to rub circles in your clit and lets the other grab a handful of boob, squeezing and kneading it as much as he wants.

“Good girl, I’m so close, almost there, now.”

You whine, his fingers getting quicker and his thrusts sloppier.

“Oh, fu-fuck..” he groans, “now, you can cum now.”

Crying out his name, you release your hold on your orgasm, feeling the coil snap inside you, now thrilled that you no longer have to stave it off and you fall forward. Michael wraps his arm around your chest, catching you so he can continue to fuck into you.

“That’s it, baby, milk my cock like the good fucking girl you are.”

Michael’s thrusts become erratic as he chases his high. When he reaches it, you feel him releasing his seed deep inside your pulsating pussy. He slows down his thrusts, riding out both of your highs for you.

When he shudders one final time, he slumps forward, cheek resting on your sweaty back but he didn’t care.

After a few moments, he pulls his softening cock out of your sore pussy, making you wince from the over-stimulation. He presses a soft kiss to your back and goes to fetch a wet soft-cloth to clean you up. Your eyes flutter closed and you only know he’s returned by the soft caress of his hand down one thigh, pushing them apart so he can clean you up. You whimper from the soreness but let him continue as you know it has to happen in order to stay clean.

He hums as he goes about cleaning you up and tosses the cloth to the side where he can address it in the morning.

You pat the bed beside you and he climbs in, hugging you from behind and pressing multiple soft kisses to your back, making you shiver.

“That was...”

You wait for him to continue.

“Can we do that again?”

“Like now?” you reply, alarmed.

“Uh.”

“Jesus Christ, Michael, what are you made of?”

“So I’m guessing that’s a no.”

“You bet your ass it’s a no.”

He waits a beat.

“Wake me up before Polly gets up in the morning,” you mumble.

Michael grins, “You know I will.”

“I do.”

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justauthoring · 4 years

Text

No Reason To (44/50)

Prompt: “And I guess… when it comes down to it, I trust you.”

A/N: So, a couple days early! I couldn’t wait until Monday to post this chapter cause i’m so incredibly proud of it and I’m gonna be spending the weekend playing TLOU2, so there won’t be too many requests adn I hope this makes up for it :)

Also, because Tumblr is stupid, I added memories from past chapters as Y/N remembering Stiles in italic, but for so reason on mobile it switches between italics and not. I’ve broken it up though, so hopefully it’s not too confusing!

Nonetheless, I am incredibly proud of this chapter and I really hope you all love it as much as I do!

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Pairing: Stiles x McCall!Reader

Based off of: Teen Wolf 06x09 & 06x10

“So, how cold does this thing get?”

“Cold enough for a Hellhound,” Lydia explains with a puff of air, slightly breathless from both of you running around to make sure everything’s locked and prepped. “It’s not the same as the ice bath you gave Isaac but, it can lower your core temperature past anything a human can survive.”

“So, what does freezing our asses off have to do with our memories?”

“It’ll slow your heart rate,” Lydia explains to Malia with a breath, “and put you in a trance-like state.”

“Like hypnosis,” Scott adds, to which you nod.

“Hypnotic regression,” you agree. Then, slowly, you turn to large machine, swallowing thickly. “If we can figure out how to work it.”

Malia turns, glancing around before something catches her eye. “This says ‘start’,” she calls, pointing at the side of the machine. “So, maybe it not’s that complicated.”

Upon further glance, however, there’s a... lot of dials.

Meeting Scott’s gaze, you sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“So, optimistically,” Malia prefaces, “how much time do you think we need to do this?”

“As much time as Liam and Stilinski can buy us,” Scott answers, nodding at the three of you. Then, he turns, unlocking the latch before pulling open the door. It almost looks like a coffin, in a more technical, supernatural way.

Scott elected to go first.

And for that, you’re very thankful.

You blink in surprise as the machine starts to hum, clearly doing... something. It’s definitely on, that you know for a fact. Which means...

“Okay, it’s doing something,” Malia calls, meeting Scott’s gaze. “You ready?”

He meets your eyes briefly, as if for reassurance, which you offer the best you can, before nodding. He grabs hold of the door, stepping forward and into the machine, shutting the door behind him. You’re close behind him, waiting until you’re sure he’s completely in and ready, before locking the latch. He watches you carefully from within the machine as you do, and even though he tries to put on a brave face, you can tell he’s scared.

A little apprehensive, at the very least.

“Remember,” Lydia calls as you continue to lock and prepare a few more things. “This’ll get cold enough to kill you. So, if something feels wrong or like, it’s not working...--”

“It’s going to work,” Scott cuts in gently, voice muffled from behind the door. You frown at him, swallowing thickly.

“I hope you’re not saying that because you think I know what I’m doing,” you call, glancing over at your brother, before turning round to Malia and Lydia. “Or that any of us do.”

“I’m saying that because I know you can figure it out.”

His words are sure and, somehow, there’s no doubt in his gaze as he looks back at you. You only hesitate a moment longer, making sure that he doesn’t change his mind or get freaked out in the last second (which, you wouldn’t blame him for either) before moving to turning all the dials all the way round. There’s three, and you turn them quick before you change your mind yourself.

Almost instantly, Scott reacts.

“Oh, okay,’ he gasps, “all right, yeah, that’s cold. Really cold.”

Your eyes widen as the inside fogs up, blurring your image of Scott.

“So,” Malia speaks up, voice hushed. “What are we supposed to do? Talk to him? Help him remember? Wait till he turns into a werewolf freezy pop?”

Turning to Lydia with wide eyes, you wait for an answer.

“We need to guide him,” Lydia mumbles, nodding over at the both of you. “Keep him focused.”

They both look at you expectantly. And, even though you really have no idea what you’re doing, you step forward without fault. You inhale sharply before speaking, trying to get a good look at your brother. “Scott?” You call gently, but firmly, loud enough for him to hear you. “You have to think about him. Concentrate on Stiles.”

Through the fog, you watch as he nods.

“Try to picture him in your head.” Lydia adds, “think about what he looks like, things he said.”

The machine then hums, whirring.

“I don’t like this,” Malia calls instantly, shaking her head. “Something’s wrong.”

You move forward to stop it, but Lydia catches your arm, halting you. You turn to her in disbelief, but she simply keeps her gaze forward, head-on at Scott. “Wait,” she explains, “give it a few more seconds.”

“Lydia--”

You’re interrupted by a loud thump. Your attention is pulled in front of you at the sight of Scott slamming his hand up against the glass of the door, a gasp of pain, discomfort, something leaving his lips. You waste no time in stepping forward once more, worried and panicked for your brother, your hand reaching for the latch, “i’m getting him out of there,” but Lydia holds tight.

“Wait.”

You glance back at Scott, and you watch as his tense shoulders ease. His hand slowly pulls away from the door, and his face relaxes.

“Scott,” Lydia calls, “can you hear me?”

Slowly, his eyes flicker open and they’re glowing red.

But then his eyes start to weigh and you watch as his head lulls, as if he’s about to fall asleep.

“Scott,” you exclaim, pressing your hand on the door. “You can’t fall asleep. You have to stay awake.”

“I’m trying,” he mumbles, half-coherent.

“Wait,” you call after a moment, mind clicking with realization. “You’re not sleeping. I think you’re losing consciousness. And if you do that, I think we’re gonna lose you.”

“Scott!” Malia orders from next to you, her voice louder then your own. “Stay awake. Scott!”

His eyes flicker, his head rocks, but he doesn’t say anything. You watch with panic, concern, worry and all the above, heart racing, pounding madly against your chest.

But then he snaps awake, suddenly. His body stands straight, and he glances around, as if in search of something.

Someone.

“Scott. Try to find him.”

“Try...” You hesitate, thinking. “Try to find him in your memories.”

His eyes flicker every which way. His head shakes as if his mind runs a million miles per hour. He’s searching. Desperately searching. But Scott hasn’t found Stiles yet.

“Find him in any memory. Good or bad.”

And he starts to look panicked. Worried. Frightened.

“What’s happening to him?” Malia asks, panicked herself.

Lydia shakes her head; “I don’t know.”

“Well, he doesn’t look good,” you explain, “he looks... lost.”

“I think he is,” Lydia exclaims, frustrated. “I think maybe it’s too much information. Like, he’s getting buried under all the memories. Being overloaded by them.”

“So, what do we do to help him?”

“Did you hear that?”

You glance back, watching as Malia leaves your side and rushes over to door. She halts by it, hand hovering over the lock, her ear pressed against the door as she listens carefully.

“Thunder?”

Turning back to the both of you, Malia frowns; “maybe.”

Sighing, you turn back to Scott, your frown deepening at the distressed look on his face. He presses the palms of his hands against his ears, as if trying to block the noise from his head. You can’t even begin to imagine the amount of noise, memories more specifically, running through his head rapidly. Can’t even begin to imagine how that must feel.

“This isn’t working.”

“Then,” Malia says without hesitation, making her way back over to you and Lydia. “We have to figure something else out.”

“I know,” Lydia snaps, before easing. “I-I know.”

But Malia doesn’t relent, worried for Scott. “Is he gonna freeze to death in there?”

Frowning, you swallow thickly. “If his memories don’t kill him.”

“There has to be another way to do this,” Malia exclaims bluntly, turning to Lydia specifically. “Isn’t there?”

“I don’t know,” Lydia sighs, “this is my first attempt at trying to open a dimensional rift in space-time. So, i’m kind of fumbling around in the dark, okay?”

“Okay,” you call, trying to ease the tension. “It’s okay. Let’s just... think. We just have to think, okay?” You glance back and forth at the two of them, as if to make sure they’re at least trying to keep calm. It’s a lot harder then it looks. But then, something occurs to you.

Fumbling around in the dark.

That’s it.

“You’re not the only one.”

“What?”

“You’re not the only one fumbling around in the dark,” you explain, nodding over at Lydia, hoping she’ll understand what you mean..

“What does that mean?” Malia shakes her head at you.

But Lydia turns to you bright-eyed in understanding. “That’s exactly it, Y/N,” she nods at you.

“What?” Malia calls again, voice firmer in bafflement.

You turn to her with a nod. “I think we have to treat this more like actual hypnosis,” you explain, “they use images to guide you through memories. Like... a stairwell. Each step represents a new year. That’s how they regress you back.”

Malia’s eyes ease in realization. “I get it. So he needs to imagine something.”

“What do we tell him?” Lydia asks.

Pausing, you think for a moment, before stepping forward. “Scott?” You call gently, trying to grab his attention. “Can you hear me? Scott, listen. Imagine this.” You fumble for something. “Imagine you’re in the... high school. Visualize yourself in the high school, in the corridor where all the lockers are. Just try to imagine standing there. That’s where your memories are. They’re all in the lockers. They’re locked away behind each one.

“Every memory of Stiles is in a separate locker. Scott, you’re there. In the high school. You’re standing there now.”

And then, just as you finish speaking, his eyes snap open.

“It’s getting too cold.”

Your head snaps to Lydia at her words, before flickering your eyes up to the dial, lips parting.

Turning round to Malia, Lydia calls out; “he’s getting too cold.”

“What if it’s not enough to remember him?” She asks, baffling you at her words. “What if it’s some kind of a connection he’s supposed to make because of a memory?” Malia adds, your face easing with realization and understanding of what she means.

Lydia nods, “like an emotional connection?”

“That could be why it worked for Stilinski, right?”

Glancing back briefly at Scott, you nod; “he wasn’t just remembering something. He was remembering his son.”

Rushing forward, Malia calls out for Scott instantly. “Scott?” She calls gently, “Scott, can you hear me?” He doesn’t reply, but she continues anyway. “Listen, I remembered something. At the start of the year, Stiles said he was looking for a place for you guys to live after graduation.”

At the lack of response from Scott, she turns to the both of you panicked, asking for reassurance. You nod, quickly, eyes soft.

“He said you were getting an apartment together?” She recalls, voice doubtful. “And I remember saying something to Stiles. Something like... it’s not always a good idea to live with your friends. Even your best friend. But Stiles said it wouldn’t matter because you weren’t just friends.

“You guys were more like brothers.”

There’s a pause. Scott’s face eases, and you think it might’ve worked.

But then;

“His heart’s dropping.”

“What?”

“His heart rate is dropping, fast.”

“We have to get him out.”

“Quick, quick!”

“Get him out!”

Your fingers pull hastily at the latch, practically yanking the metal door open and just managing to catch Scott before he falls to the ground. You pull him round, meeting his eyes as he glances up at you in confusion, shaking his head. “What--What happened? Why’d you pull me out?”

“Your heart rate dropped,” you exclaim, shaking your head. “You were gonna die.”

Leaning forward, Malia nods; “we had to.”

Glancing back at the machine, Scott’s lips part. “But then,” he breathes, breathless. “But then, nothing happened, did it? It didn’t work.”

Malia tried. And it nearly worked.

Just... not enough.

You turn off the machine with a frown, turning all the dials back down to zero and locking the latch with a heavy click and a heavy heart. You really thought this would work. You thought Scott would be able to open the rift, and if not him, maybe Malia since Stiles was her anchor. But... it hadn’t. And you were two steps behind again.

“What are you doing?”

Turning to Scott with a frown, you shake your head; “it’s too dangerous,” you say simply. “We’re not going to save anyone by freezing you guys to death.”

“But it was working,” Malia reminds, voice firm, desperate. “Wasn’t it?”

“There was a light and a strange noise,” you explain with a shrug. “No Stiles.”

“But I can remember him now,” Scott argues, stepping towards you, letting his hands fall from Malia. “I can see him in my head.”

“So can I,” Malia nods.

“He’s more real now than he’s ever been.”

Brows furrowing at Scott, your lips part, trying to say something but not sure what.

“If we can bring Stiles back, we can bring everyone back.”

“There’s a huge difference in being a vivid memory and an actual corporeal human being,” Lydia explains for you, standing up beside you, to which you nod.

“I know,” Scott nods at Lydia, before turning to you, eyes never leaving your own. “Which is why I think it should be you.”

“I won’t last two minutes in there,” you say simply, shaking your head. You may be a witch, but you couldn’t heal and withstand the same things Scott and Malia could as werewolves and werecoyotes. That thing would kill you in seconds. It had nearly killed them.

“We’ll think of something else,” Scott says quickly, gesturing to Malia. “Malia’s right.” Then, his voice softens and so does his gaze as he meets your eyes firmly. “It’s all about the connection. When I was remembering him, I was also remembering the two of you together. I don’t think anyone had a connection like you guys.”

Lips parting, your shoulders fall. You’re... not sure what to say.

“I saw it, too,” Malia nods, looking solemn as she nods at you. “You have to try, Y/N.”

“But it nearly killed you two,” you whisper, “and it’ll kill me.”

“Well then,” Lydia speaks up, you turning to her in bafflement as she quirks a brow. “We have to do it the old-fashioned way. We’re going to have to actually hypnotize you.”

“My mother had a hypnotist who helped her quite smoking.”

You inhale sharply at Lydia’s story, glancing down at your hands, swallowing thickly.

“She had me see the same on when I was ten,” Lydia adds.

Scott turns to her, baffled. “You had to quit smoking when you were ten?”

“No,” she calls, appalled. “I bit my fingernails. Just find a lighter or a candle, please.”

Just then, Malia turns, a blowtorch in her hands. “Too much--?”

“--Found it!”

You glance over, eyeing the candle in Scott’s hands.

Lydia nods, and the three of them make their way over to you, at the table. Scott sets the candle down in front of you, Malia lighting it instantly, as you eye it nervously. Scott and Malia stay stood in front of you, watching you carefully, but Lydia takes a seat in front of you.

Meeting her eyes, you inhale sharply. “Is it scary?”

She instantly shakes her head, “you’ll be fine.” Then, she smiles softly, nodding. “I promise. Now, just... breathe. Take a deep breath.”

You listen without fault, inhaling deeply and slowly, trying to steal your nerves. Your shoulders fall as you do, and your face relaxes as you focus on calming yourself.

“Look at the candle.” Your eyes lower, falling on the lighted candle, licking your lips as you listen closely to the rest of Lydia’s words. “Feel the muscles in your body begin to relax. Your hands relaxing. Your eyelids relaxing.” At that, your eyelids fall shut, instinctively. Out of your control. Oddly, you don’t feel panicked.

You truly do feel relaxed.

“As you relax, imagine you’re sitting in your room.”

When you open your eyes, you blink at the sight of your bedroom. You’re sat on your bed, on the edge of it.

“In your lap is a photo album.”

Glancing down, you frown at the closed photo album held in your hands.

“Each photo holds a memory of your life. You can choose whatever photo you want to look at it. It gives you total control. All you have to do is turn the pages.”

Inhaling sharply, you slowly turn the page, and almost instantly, voices echo.

“Y/N... Are... Are you okay?”

And it’s almost like the picture comes alive before you.

You step forward, falling into Stiles’s arms. He doesn’t respond right away, almost as if surprised, then, his arms are curling around your waist, pulling you close.

The hug seems to last forever, but it can’t be more than a few seconds, before you’re interrupted by Jackson.

Turning the page slowly, you focus on the voices and the memory. Trying to stay calm. At ease.

A choked sob leaves your lips as your hands go to cover them. Shaking your head, you cry out; “i’m sorry,” taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-I-”

“Hey,” Stiles calls, keys falling on your counter, rushing over to you. He envelops you in his arms, holding you close as you move your arms around him, clutching onto the back of his sweater. You feel like a fool, acting so weak and letting your emotions get the best of you, but after spending a night in an empty house, without the comfort of your brother and mother and terrified that your father would come waltzing through the front door any second, you can’t help yourself. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whisper, “I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”

Stiles pulls back, grabbing your face by the cheeks and pulling your eyes on his own. He looks just as rough as you, just as fragile, and it’s clear as day he’s putting on a brave face for the sake of you. “We’re gonna get them back, okay?” He whispers, “my father, your mother… it’s gonna be okay.”

“What if it’s not?” You question, shaking your head. “What if this time we fail? I mean, Scott’s with Deucalion. Deucalion…”

“We’re gonna find them,” Stiles says again, and you’re not sure if it’s to reassure you, or himself. Either way, the words to help calm your nerves just a bit.

“Stiles,” you call, “my father…-”

“We’re not worrying about your father right now, okay?” Stiles interrupts, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “I won’t let him near you. Not again.”

“Try to find a memory of Stiles.

“A memory where you felt a connection with him.”

“I’m sorry,” you say instantly, shaking your head. You force your body to ease, trying to ignore the slightly race in your heart. It hadn’t been Stiles’ fault, you repeat in your mind. He hadn’t had any control of his body and Void had done what he did best, cause chaos. He used your fears and Stiles’ against the both of you. “I’m sorry,” shaking your head, you sigh. “I shouldn’t have, I… I know that it wasn’t…”

“I hurt you.”

Your words halt, lips left parted as your eyes fall on Stiles’ own. He’s not staring at you, instead, staring down at his lap; at his hands.

“I… hurt Scott, I hurt Coach and so many others. But… I hurt you.”

“No,” you argue, shaking your head. “No, it was Void. Void did all of that stuff, not you, Stiles.”

“But it was my body,” he whispers, forcing the words out of his mouth. Slowly, he raises his gaze to meet your own, shaking his head. “It was my hands that stabbed Scott. My hands that set up the trap that hurt Coach and the bomb that blew up the police station. It was my hands that wrapped around your throat.”

It’s obvious Stiles is staring at your neck, tears in his eyes as he shakes his head.

“God, he… after everything with your father and then I–”

Taking Stiles’ hand in your own, you squeeze it tightly, keeping your gaze trained on his. “It wasn’t you.”

“It was Void,” you mumble, the words leaving your lips unconsciously. “It... It wasn’t you. Wasn’t... Wasn’t... you--”

“Find another memory,” Lydia cuts in, words echoing. “Keep looking for Stiles. Find another memory”

“Don’t ever do that again... I thought... I thought I’d lost you.”

You turn the page.

“I’m gonna go talk to my dad. I just gotta go talk to my dad.”

And another.

“I know that, uh, holding your breath could stop a panic attack. When I kissed you... you held your breath...

And another.

“I’ll always come back. I promise.”

And then...

You blink, and you’re in Stiles’ jeep.

“Y/N...”

“That’s when I remembered...”

Lydia, Malia and Scott blink, hoping flickering in their eyes.

“When... When I realized...”

“I’m going to be erased, okay?” You can’t say anything, your head shakes and your lips part, but you’re stunned silent. “Just like Alex. You’re gonna forget me.”

“No,” you cry, the word just spilling from your lips. “No, I… I won’t. I couldn’t forget you, Stiles.”

“Y/N… you will.”

“Y/N? What? What did you realize?”

“I tried to convince myself,” you mumble, eyes sliding open, slowly, lips parting. “I tried to pretend that I wasn’t...”

And you blink at that, heart breaking at the fact that he’s right.

“Just… try to find some way to remember me, okay?” His hand slips into your own again, threading his fingers through your own, gripping onto you tightly, firmly. “Remember… that it’s always been you… Remember that it’s never been anyone but you, from the first minute I saw you…”

Swallowing thickly, you let the words sink in, never tearing your gaze away from Stiles. These are the words you’ve been wanting to hear for months, wanting to know if you’re feelings for Stiles were one sided. If you were still the one he loved…. and now that you are hearing them, he’s about to be taken away from you.

“Remember that you saved my life.”

Lips parting, you whisper; “you saved me life too…” And then you shake your head, small, stiffly, and you feel your eyes water. “Countless times…”

He’s silent for a moment, gazing back at you, as if taking it all in for the last time. And then,

“Wasn’t what, Y/N?”

“Just remember… Remember that I never stopped loving you and…” He blinks, eyes never wavering from your own. “I never will.”

“Still in love with him.”

There’s an echo of silence, and then, he’s being ripped from you.

Meeting Scott’s gaze, you swallow thickly; “That I wasn’t still in love with Stiles.”

“Y/N...”

“I was there,” you cry, words choking. “I was there. I was the last person to see him.”

Lydia leans forward; “where? Y/N, where?”

“The Ghost Riders,” you explain with haste, eyes blurring as tears stream down your cheeks. “They... When they took him...”

Remember...

The candle burns out. And it’s silent.

Then, “I never said it back...” Swallowing thickly, you shake your head at Scott, biting your lip. “I never told him that...”

There’s an echo of silence, then, a rumble echoes. It intensifies by the moment, rumbling the entire ground beneath you.

Slowly, you stand up, making your way over to the door. You slowly unlock it, pulling up the latch, and then the door. Your lips part, eyes widening when you notice the bright light.

It’s the rift.

Rushing forward, you slow to a stop and you swear... you swear you see Stiles.

On the other side.

But... But right in front of you.

“Stiles?”

That night...

That was the night I realized...

I tried to convince myself, lie to myself...

that I wasn’t in love with you.

But I was.

I am.

I’m in love with you, Stiles.

“I can see you, Stiles! Don’t stop!”

Your hand reaches out before you, your feet inch forwards, because you can see him. See his outline. His figure. And you know it’s Stiles; without a doubt that it is. And he’s so close you can almost touch him, Almost reach out for him.

“Keep going! Stiles, keep going!”

But then, the light fades, and so does Stiles.

Your hand falls back down to your side, and it feels as if your heart is breaking.

“Stiles?”

But there’s no response..

“Y/N...”

You shake your head at your brothers voice, swallowing thickly. “Where is he?” And then you turn, spinning round to face your brother and your friends, nodding quickly and hastily. “It was working,” you explain. But you falter when you see the looks on their faces. “You... You saw him, right?”

With a sympathetic look in her eyes, Malia shuffles forward; “we didn’t see anyone.”

“No,” you argue, biting your lip as you turn back towards the tunnel. “He was here. I know it...”

A hand falls on your arm, and slowly turning your head back, you frown at Lydia through blurred eyes. You swallow thickly, trying to hold back your tears; your desperation whilst she simply just squeezes your arm, trying to offer any comfort she can.

All you can manage is the bleak mumble of; “Stiles was here.”

They help guide you back inside the room, making sure to keep a close eye on you.

And while you appreciate the support, you don’t notice it, your mind occupied with other thoughts. You found yourself doubting yourself again, because no one else had seen what you had. Not Malia, not Lydia and not even Scott. You were the only one. And it made you wonder if you were going crazy, if you had just imagined it all because you were so desperate to have Stiles back.

But you know you saw him. You know you did. And you swear you heard his voice, so...

“Liam!”

Spinning round at your brothers voice, your brows furrow at the sight of the younger boy. You would’ve thought he’d be taken. Like everyone else.

“There’s something you need to see.”

“You’re still here...”

“Yeah, but everyone else is gone,” Liam pants, shaking his head. “All of them. They’re all gone. Look, you have to come with me.”

Shaking his head, Scott’s brows furrow in confusion. “What is it?”

“I can’t explain it,” Liam stammers, “I have to show you.”

“Uh, all right,” Scott stammers, turning back to look at the three of you. “You guys stay here. Just in case.”

You just nod, numb. But Malia speaks up; “in case Stiles comes back?” And her words catch you by surprise, glancing over at her before meeting your brothers eyes who nods firmly at you.

“If there’s any hope,” he explains, “you need to keep trying.”

Your brows furrow when Malia rushes forward, not even a few minutes after Scott’s left, and opens the door.

Lydia seems just as confused; “what are you doing?”

She turns back to the two of you with a smile. “We’re gonna go find Stiles.”

“Scott told us to stay in case he shows up here.”

“Stiles isn’t coming here,” Malia argues gently. “If he was, he would’ve, and he hasn’t, so he’s not.”

Stepping forward, you bite your lip. “You believe me?”

Never wavering her gaze from your own, Malia quirks a brow in question. “You still think it worked, right?”

You nod without hesitation, “I know I saw him.”

“And I trust you,” Malia encourages, “you’re always right.”

Pursing your lips, you hesitate; “I wouldn’t say always.”

Shaking her head, Lydia steps forward; “but, right now?”

Meeting her eyes, then Malia’s, you nod, slowly. “Right now,” you begin, “I’m not wrong. Stiles is out there, I can feel it.”

“Then,” Malia grins, “what are we doing standing here?”

“These look fresh.”

“It’s from Stiles jeep,” Malia explains, “it must’ve just left here.”

Lydia pauses, brows furrowing. “Without his keys?”

You shake your head; “half the time he got it started with a screwdriver, so...”

“Then, he’s here,” Lydia nods, “we have to tell Scott.”

You glance over at Malia, but her gaze is caught on something else. Slowly lowering to help you up to your feet, Malia keeps her gaze ahead, frowning. “We should probably tell Scott about that, too.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, but a simple glance in the direction she’s looking and you understand.

There’s... train tracks in front of the school yard, leading into the school itself. Which just makes absolutely no sense. And definitely doesn’t mean anything good either.

Eyeing the many people sat in the library, now apparently a train station, your heart falls with the realization that the Wild Hunt was a lot further into turning Beacon Hills into a Ghost Town then you thought.

“Why is there a train station in the middle of the library?”

Turning to Malia, you sigh; “there’s also a train station in the Wild Hunt.”

“Any chance they’re connected?”

Stepping forward, you shake your head. “I would say high,” you begin, before glancing back at her and Lydia. “Like a hundred percent.”

The two follow after you quickly, though you’re not really sure where you’re headed or what you aim to do. It’s mainly the blind leading the blind.

“If there’s a train station,” Malia continues, “then there’s probably a train.”

Spinning around to the two of them, you meet Lydia with a similar look as her face falls with realization. “And if there’s a train,” she begins, “it’s going to the Wild Hunt.”

Turning around to the crowd of people, you swallow thickly; “they’re all going to be taken.”

“We can’t let them be taken.”

Malia’s face falls with panic and stepping forward, her mind races for a plan. “Um,” she mumbles, before raising her voice so everyone can hear her. “Okay. Listen up, everybody. We’ve all got to get out of here. We gotta go right now.”

Glancing round, no one moves. Or even really acknowledges Malia.

“It’s bad! We have to go!”

Stepping in front of someone, you crouch to meet their eyes; “hello!” She doesn’t move. Like, at all.

“Uh, hello? Sir!” Malia calls to another man, Lydia trying the same thing to another person. No one responds to either of you. At all. “How do we get them to leave if they can’t hear us?”

“Uh...” Lydia mumbles, before something -- or rather someone -- catches her eyes. “Maybe there’s someone who can.”

Following her line of direction, your eyes widen at the sight of Peter.

“Peter!”

Pressing a hand against your forehead, you watch Malia uselessly snap her fingers in front of her father’s face. It clearly does nothing. As everything else she’s tried does nothing.

“Malia.”

“What?”

“The only way we were able to break through the Hunt,” Lydia begins to explain, “is with an emotional connection.”

Malia sighs, shoulders falling with defeat. “Dang,” she whispers, “wish I could help.”

Meeting Lydia’s eyes, you sigh, before stepping forward. “Malia,” you call, voice firm, clear on what you mean.

She seems to understand quickly. And instantly, she shakes her head. “I’m not saying it,” she argues, determined. “I’m not saying it.”

“Okay, well,” Lydia shrugs, spinning round to walk the other way. “I guess everyone dies.”

Letting out a growl, Malia halts Lydia.

Turning to the former, you meet her eyes with a reassuring glance. “It’s okay,” you whisper, smiling gently. “You’ve got this.”

She only hesitates a moment longer, inhaling deeply, letting her eyes fall shut as she tries to prepare herself. Then, slowly glancing down at Peter, the word leaves her lips; “dad.” But not at all in the way you or Lydia meant it to. “Dad. Dad.”

“Say it like you mean it.”

Slowly crouching in front of Peter, Malia takes deep breaths. You don’t say anything, giving her the moment she needs to muster the courage to say it. It might just be a short and small word, but you understood probably better then most how hard it is to accept the man that’s supposed to be your father as your actual father. After everything he’s done.

And that’s why you understand how hard it is for Malia.

“Dad.” She whispers, voice soft, desperate. “Please wake up.”

He drops the newspaper, his eyes shifting. They become less distant.

Malia turns to you and Lydia with hope in her eyes, slowly standing up just as Peter does himself. Then, still silence echoes, uncertainty, and then, you watch as the edges of Peter’s lips curve upwards.

“Attention, all passengers, the train will be arriving in twelve minutes.”

You watch as all the passengers get up, circling around the four of you. Their feet seem to just lead them, having no real control over their bodies.

“Me?” Peter speaks up, pulling your gaze on him as he gestures to himself in disbelief. “You want me to stop them? You know how many there are?”

“Yeah,” Malia nods, “a lot of them. So get going.” Stepping forward, she grabs his arm, pulling him off his seat on the bench.

“There are hundreds of waiting rooms in this train station,” Peter explains, whilst letting Malia pull him. You and Lydia follow closely behind. “Which apparently now also serves as a high school library. It’s impossible.”

“We can try.”

“Where do you get this implausible optimism?”

“Definitely not from my father.”

Shaking your head, you rush forward, breaking the two apart. “We don’t have time for this,” you remind, grabbing onto Malia’s arm to pull her attention on you. “We need someone to just hear us.”

“I think we already did.”

It takes you a moment to process Peter’s words, and when you do, your eyes widen at the sight of a Ghost Rider right in front of you.

“We have to go!”

“But--”

Pulling Malia with you, you meet her eyes with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry about Peter, but we have to go!”

She chances a single glance back at her father, who currently is being held up off his feet by his neck by a Ghost Rider. He nods at her, encouraging her to follow you and Lydia and with that, she finally follows your lead, though reluctant, allowing you to help pull her along before simply just following you.

However, just as you rush out the door, she stops. And you don’t notice til you’re out, and when you turn back, the library isn’t there.

Meeting Lydia’s eyes, she nods at you, with the intent to follow after Malia and find her. But, just as you take a step forward, a feeling courses through you. And it’s a feeling you’ve felt before, many times. It’s Stiles.

It has to be.

“Y/N?”

Turning back to Lydia with a dazed expression, you shake your head. “Find Malia, get somewhere safe.”

She shakes her head, brows furrowing in bafflement. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to find Stiles.”

You rush off without another word, ignoring her bleak call for you as you pick up the speed in your step, all but running down the hallway. Your feet keep leading you, the feeling growing stronger and stronger by each step, until you find yourself in front of the girls locker room. Without hesitation, you push the door open, the first thing your eyes fall on is one of the Ghost Riders.

And then, you see Stiles.

Your lips part, and a yell leaves your lips as a burst of power flows through your body. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, unlike anything you’ve ever done before. Your powers feel stronger, unbelievably powerful as you push the Ghost Rider away from Stiles, knocking it back against a set of lockers. The glow of purple surrounds you, surging from your hands, and directed at the Ghost Rider only and completely.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever done before and it’s more control you’ve ever had over your powers.

And, to your surprise and great shock, the Ghost Rider burst into a cloud of green smoke itself. Just like all the innocent civilians it’s taken over the years. You’re not sure how you do it, how you had that much strength and power to destroy a Ghost Rider. But maybe that’s why they’d been afraid of you, like they were Lydia. Only unlike Lydia, or really anyone apparently, you could... destroy them.

Then, you ease, and you feel your legs grow weak beneath you as a result. Your body feels exhausted, your mind as well, and your eyes dull for a moment as you feel yourself falling, but arms catch you before you body thuds against the ground.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?”

You move your hands to hold onto the arms holding you, finding enough strength in your body to finally look up and meet Stiles’ eyes. The eyes of the man you’ve been searching for for the past few months.

“Stiles,” you breathe, hands falling to his cheeks. “Stiles, you’re here. I... I found you.”

His lips curve upwards gently, eyes never leaving your own as he nods.

“I love you,” you whisper, that being the first thought to leave your mind. You needed to tell him. You just had to. “And I never stopped.”

And, Stiles shifts, holding you closer up against himself as he lets out a gentle laugh. “I know.” He uses his right hand to brush back strands of hair that had fallen into your eyes, gently tucking them behind your ear with a soft and adoring looking in his eyes. “I love you too.” Then, he’s leaning forward, pressing his lips against your own. Something you’ve been craving this entire time, his touch. And he’s here, holding you, kissing you...

You instantly return the kiss, without hesitation, your back curving into him as you pour every bit of feeling you’ve felt for him since he disappeared.

Since you broke up.

His hands run through your hair and you hold tight to him, afraid that’ll he’ll disappear from your fingers once again.

But, he never does.

He’s here. He really is.

“How sweet.”

You pull back in surprise at the voice, eyes blinking over only to find Isaac. Or rather, the phantom Isaac that the Ghost Riders had created. That you knew now. Alarmed, Stiles helps you up to your feet, the both of you shuffling back in response as Isaac approaches, his eyes clearly set on you.

And only you.

“Is that Isaac?”

“I sort of brought him back...” You glance back at him, wincing lightly, “it’s a long story.”

“I hate to ruin the moment,” Isaac continues, his voice contorting, turning darker and muffled. You blink and suddenly, his face isn’t his own, messed up, and it’s then your thoughts and fears of the past couple months are confirmed. That wasn’t Isaac.

And you didn’t love what every he it was.

“But I thought you loved me.”

“Stay back,” you whisper to Stiles, pushing him back behind you.

Stiles glances down at you in concern, shaking his head. “Y/N, your powers--”

“I know,” you nod, continuing to shuffle back. “But I have to try.” Then, meeting his eyes steadily, you nod. “Be ready to run.”

He takes a moment, hesitating, before slowly nodding, stepping back to give you the room you need. However, he doesn’t run off yet, he sticks close, obviously worried for you as you slowly raise your hands up before yourself, inhaling sharply and deeply in preparation.

Isaac steps forward, a twisted smile on his lips; “don’t you love me?”

Letting your eyes fall shut, you harden your eyes, shaking your head. “I love the real Isaac,” you mumble, “but not whoever you are.”

And then your lips part and your hands jut out before you as a glow of purple surrounds you. Another cry of pain and exhaustion leaves your lips, forcing out everything you have within you. Everything you have left. Your muscles strain and contort painfully, and you feel your legs start to give out beneath you, but what keeps you going is the fact that it’s working.

If the panicked look on the phantom Isaac’s face is anything to go by.

With one last push, using all that you have left, you knock the phantom back. It slams against a set of lockers, and with just one final push from you, it burst into a cloud of green smoke.

Instantly, you’re falling once more. And like before, Stiles catches you, keeping you steady.

Your head lulls and your body is screaming at you in exhaustion. But you don’t much care now because you’re back in Stiles’ arms.

“How in the world did you do that?” Stiles breathes, glancing in the direction Isaac had all but disappeared. “And what the hell even was that?”

“It’s a long story,” you whisper, repeating your words from earlier, voice tired as you lean on Stiles, letting him guide you back up to your feet. “But, at least I know why the Ghost Riders are afraid of me.”

Staring back at you, astonished, Stiles blinks. “Afraid of you?” Then, a small smile curls onto his lips, and he almost looks proud. No, he definitely looks proud. “I love you.”

Laughing, you nod; “I love you too.”

He glances in the direction of the exit, wrapping his arm around your waist. “We should go,” he suggests gently to which you nod, trying your best to not let all of your weight fall on him. He helps guide you out of the locker room and down the hallway, however, you don’t make it far. Because just as you both reach the doors and Stiles moves to open them, a voice echoes.

“Stiles?”

Turning in the direction of the voice, you stare at the empty hallway.

“Stiles, is that you?”

“Mom?”

You shake your head when Stiles takes a step forward, gently pulling you with him.

“Stiles,” you call, voice weak. “That’s not your mom. Just like that wasn’t Isaac.”

“I know who it is,” Stiles mumbles, “I know her voice.”

“No,” you argue, desperate for him to understand. “That’s the Wild Hunt. They’re tricking you.” He only continues to walk forward, towards where the voice had originated, looking both astonished and lost at the same time. “The Wild Hunt brought her back, but she’s not real.”

He turns to you, confused; “what do you mean, ‘brought her back’?”

Before you can speak, Claudia’s voice echoes once more; “Stiles.”

And turning, you frown when she steps through the doors.

“I know what you’ve been through.”

Your grip tightens on Stiles, trying to pull him back. But he holds fast, relenting you.

“I know how much you love your father.” Claudia continues and then, like Isaac, there’s a shift and her face becomes contorted. Darkened. Not her own. And her voice does the same. “But I love him more.”

Swallowing thickly, you let out a shaky breath.

You don’t have the strength to fight her off. Not for the third time. And if you tried, you’re sure it could kill you.

“Even through the hunt,” she continues, voice distorted and echoed, “you somehow worked your way back into his memory.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods, trying to stay strong. “Worming is one of my skills.”

Standing up a bit straighter, you pull Stiles’ gaze on your own. “That thing,” and you spit the word venomously, “is conjured from your dad’s pain. If he remembers you, he can’t believe in her.”

“That’s why you have to go.”

It happens in a second. Claudia steps forward and you move to stop her, even if you know you can’t, but her hand wraps around your throat, squeezing painfully. It blocks all air and you scramble, scratching at her hand but she’s too strong for your weakened state. And then Stiles steps forward, quick to help you, trying to pull her hands away from you.

“You shouldn’t treat your mother that way.”

You slump against the ground, a groan of pain leaving your lips in response. However, your focus soon turns on Stiles as it’s now his neck being squeezed by the phantom.

“You’re not my mother,” he whispers, voice straining.

She steps forward, quick, slamming him up against a wall. You try to climb up to your feet, hating how weakened you were by your own powers and desperate to try and help Stiles. But you can’t move fast enough. You entire body screamed at you in pain, your head banging in agony, your throat screaming out in discomfort.

“He believes in me. Dreams. So hard to kill.”

But then a figure steps past you, and your eyes widen in hope in realization of who.

“But not impossible.”

Stilinski attempts to shoot Claudia, but regrettably, it does nothing to her.

“Noah,” she calls, shaking her head. “Your bullets can’t hurt me.”

Finding your strength, you force yourself up. You ignore your own pain and suffering for the sake of Stiles, and the fact that you refuse to lose him again. Not again. You won’t let it happen.

Falling next to Stilinski, you swallow thickly, “fire again.”

He listens without fault, and with the help of his bullet, you push your hands forward, forcing your powers to surge towards her and guiding the bullet there as well. The bullet hits her, right in the chest, and like Isaac, she disappears in a cloud of green smoke, letting go of Stiles.

You slump forward, trying to keep yourself upright. The ground begins to rumble beneath you and you nearly fall, but Stilinski wraps an arm around you to keep you upright, helping steady you.

You glance around as everything continues to rumble, shaking violently, trying to find the source.

“Looking for this?”

Stiles jumps, surprised by your voice as he spins round fast to face you. You bite your lip to fight your smile at his reaction, pressing a hand against your lips to muffle your giggle. “Sorry,” you mumble at his half-hearted glare he attempts to send your way. “Your dad let me in.”

Setting down the book in his hands back on his dresser, Stiles turns to you completely, hand set against his chest. “You could’ve at least knocked.”

You only shake your head, electing not to say anything as you walk into Stiles’ room. You cross the distance between the two of you, slowing to a stop in front of the boy with a soft smile, before leaning down to gently grab his hand. You pull it up, turning it so his palm is pointed towards the ceiling, before slowly lowering the necklace his father had found for you into his hand.

Stiles glances down at the necklace, his eyes widening when he realizes just what necklace it is. “What...”

“Your father found it when you were...” You trail off, a light frown curling onto your lips at the memory of it all. “Well, you know. And he said you left it for me.”

Swallowing thickly, Stiles eyes the lily necklace in his palm for a moment before glancing up to meet your eyes. His gaze is soft as he glances up at you, reflective as well. There’s seems to be hundred of thoughts running through his mind as he stares back at you, emotions that you seem to understand well enough but can’t exactly place.

While things were better, much, much better... You and Stiles haven’t really discussed any of it. Any of it being what had happened before he’d disappeared. There seemed to be this wall that existed between the two of you, this wall that stopped you from talking about it; about the break up, about the secrecy and the lying... But you didn’t want to go on never talking about it. You didn’t want it to be a forbidden thing in your relationship.

If the two of you were going to do this, you had to be better about being honest.

About it all.

“Stiles--”

“Y/N--”

Letting out a laugh, you shake your head. “You go first.”

Stiles hesitates for a moment and he even looks a little shy as his lips part to speak, but he stammers for the right words. You let him take his time, listening carefully as he swallows thickly, mustering up the courage. “I was going to give this necklace to you at graduation,” he explains, “it was going to be my way of apologizing to you for how I treated you. About the way I treated you about Donovan and the Dread Doctors and Theo...”

You frown at the mention of his name.

But Stiles is quick to pull your gaze back on his own, hand falling under your chin and gently pulling it up. “I wasn’t there for you when you needed me and for that, i’m sorry. I should’ve told you, but I felt like I couldn’t tell anyone. I couldn’t even tell my own dad... And I didn’t stop to think that you were going through things of your own...” His hand moves, cupping your cheeks as his thumb softly brushes away the lone tear that had manage to fall past your defenses. “You deserved better then that. Better then me.”

You adamantly shake your head, without hesitation, taking his hands in your own firmly. “I don’t want anyone else but you, Stiles.”

His lips part, and he hesitates, then; “even after everything?”

“Our life is crazy, Stiles. Our lives have been crazy since Scott got bit... And yeah, we’re graduating, and I don’t know what the future holds.” You lean into his touch, your hand falling over his own with a soft smile. “But the one thing I do know is that you’re what got me through it all. And I don’t ever want to not have you by my side again.”

An echo of silence passes, and then, you lean forward, letting your forehead fall on Stiles’ own.

“You’re it for me, Stiles,” you whisper, “you’re all I want.”

Placing his hands on your waist, Stiles tugs you closer. “Good,” he mumbles, “cause you’re all I want too.”

You pull back with a smile, a bright one. There’s this race of happiness flooding through you that you haven’t felt for months. To have Stiles so close again, without all that tension that had once existed between you... it felt like a dream come true.

“Here.”

You blink at Stiles’ words, before understanding his meaning. Pulling back from his touch, you turn, pulling your hair out of his way as he slips the necklace around your neck before locking the clasp for you. Once it’s on properly, you turn to him with a bright smile, letting out a soft laugh as you eye the pendant. “I love it.”

“And,” Stiles begins, pulling you close. “I love you.”

“Hey.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

Smiling softly at the sound of Isaac’s voice, you glance down at your lap, biting your lip.

“How are you, Isaac?”

“I’m good,” he responds back cheerfully. “Things are really good.”

“Yeah?” You question softly in response, “i’m glad.”

There’s a pause, then, “how are you, Y/N?”

“I’m good,” you whisper. “I am. I promise.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you nod, even though you know he can’t see it. “I just really wanted to hear your voice.”

His actual voice.

“You sure everything’s okay?” Isaac hesitates, seeming unsure. “You seem off.”

“I’m good, i’m good,” you laugh lightly. “I promise. I’m just tired. Today was the last day of school and I still have no idea what I want to do for college.”

“You don’t?”

Shrugging, you fiddle with the sleeve of your shirt. “No, but i’ll figure it out.” Then, you brighten up. “What about you? You should be done school in France as well, right? What are your big plans?”

Isaac lets out a soft laugh. “I don’t have too many big plans.”

“No?”

“Well, actually... I sort of... maybe met this girl...”

“You met a girl?” You exclaim, excited. “Who? Who is it?”

“Slow down, Y/N/N,” Isaac chuckles, and you can imagine him rolling his eyes at you. “It’s just some girl from school. But I've taken her on a few dates and things are looking good... Really good.”

“Oh, that’s amazing, Isaac. I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah, well...” Then he pauses, “what about you? Did Stiles realize the big mistake he made?”

Rolling your eyes, you glance back at the past out image of Stiles next to you, curled up in his blankets. “You could say that,” you snort, “we’re better.”

“You guys together, then?”

Smiling down at Stiles, you nod. “Yeah,” you whisper, “we are.”

Part 45?

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#Teen Wolf #Teen Wolf imagine #Teen Wolf x reader #Teen Wolf series #NRT #No Reason To #Stiles #Stiles Stilinski #Stiles Stilinski imagine #Stiles Stilinski x reader #Stiles imagine #Stiles x reader #Dylan O'Brien #Dylan O'Brien imagine #Dylan O'Brien x reader #Scott McCall #Scott McCall imagine #Isaac Lahey #Isaac Lahey imagine

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strawberrywritings · 4 years

Text

First threat.

A/N: I randomly hit a writer’s block this week and this is the best I could come out with, but i think I have the rest kind of figured out.🍓

/ Previous parts

The morning after, you woke up still in his arms, smiling and nuzzling closer to him, never wanting him to leave. When he woke up, he felt your fingers caressing his chest and he smiled sleepily. “Good morning, mi vida”, he wrapped an arm around you and brought you on top of him. You huffed in surprise and laughed when his hands found your almost bare ass. “Wasn’t last night enough?”, you joked, pecking his lips. He hummed. “It’s not that, it’s just that now I’ll never get enough of you and your wonderful body”. How could his voice be so sensual even when he just woke up? You had no chance but give in. After a round two in the shower, you and Angel ate breakfast before parting ways to go to work, not leaving without a goodbye kiss.

Angel arrived at the scrapyard, dressed in the same clothes from the night before (which you had washed and dried them overnight), Coco whistled and him and snickered. “Nice clothes. Got something to tell me, Angelito?”, he pushed his arm and Angel shook his head, but smiled nonetheless. “I spent the night with my girl”.

Coco grinned at him as they started working on a bike, “So… you smashed it?”. Angel threw a bolt at his best friend, a small smile on his lips still, thinking about last night. “We made love”, he corrected him, just as Gilly was coming up behind them. “Woah, what am I hearing? ‘Made love’? It’s too early in the morning for this shit, hermano”, they all laughed and Angel shook his head slowly. He was completely smitten.

“I assume you’ll be bringing her around?”, Bishop had a smile on his face, but his voice was serious and Angel straightened up. “Yeah, just… don’t know when”, he shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll find some excuse to party, right boys?”. Bishop’s words were followed by hollers in agreement from all the boys at the scrapyard. “Bring her over, she’s welcome”, Angel nodded and thanked el Presidente. Would they be welcome in her mind once she knew about what they really did?

A couple days later, El Padrino happened to come visit and stopped by the clubhouse, Angel made a beeline for him just as he got out of Templo. “Puedo hablar con usted?” Can I talk with you?, Angel was fidgeting and Alvarez nodded, sitting down with the Mayan. “Que pasa” What is it, he answered, noting the uneasiness in the man in front of him. “I have a girlfriend and I still haven’t introduced her to the club. I’m afraid she won’t… accept me. She doesn’t know what I- what we really do”. Alvarez nodded, “You’ll have to explain it carefully, one bit at a time. Eso no es fácil” It’s not easy, he paused and lit his cigarette, “And if she doesn’t accept it, you just let her go, Angel”. He swallowed and nodded, the thought of having to leave you was already too much for him, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “Gracias”. “De nada”. They shook hands and El Padrino left, leaving Angel alone with his thoughts, again.

Angel told you about the party the same day, he was so cool about it, too. “Angel, you cannot tell me two hours earlier! I need to plan these things!”, you were rummaging thought your wardrobe while he sat on the bed, unbothered. “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell ya, mi amor, you’re obsessing over something stupid”. “Meeting your friends is not something stupid, baby, fuck-”. “Just throw on something, it’s gonna be fine”, he smiled as he came over to where you were standing, kissing your cheek.

When you arrived at the clubhouse, you looked at yourself in the mirror of the car to check if everything was in place. He slid an arm around you and turned you to face him. “You’re perfect, mi amor”, he kissed you tenderly and you made your way inside, Angel greeting people left and right. You barely made it past the door of the clubhouse when suddenly the Santo Padre charter was all around you, introducing themselves and asking questions about you, about what you did. Conversation flowed easily, especially with the younger members, EZ in particular, as he and Angel kept making fun of each other.

“Tell him I’m not that messy, querida”, he looked at you and you chuckled. “I mean – you started – it could be better, but it’s not that bad”. “Looks like we’re making progress”, his brother chuckled. Angel was sitting beside you, an arm over your shoulders as he watched you interact with his brothers. You got up and excused yourself to go to the bathroom. “Someone is whipped”, Gilly said, and Coco nodded “Look at those heart eyes! Get a grip, hermano”. Everyone was laughing around him but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. His answer was a soft “Yeah, I am”, and a broad smile.

In the bathroom, you were washing your hands when a girl got in, you smiled politely as you began to dry your them. “You’re Angel’s new girl, right?”. You turned to her and gave her another smile, “Yeah, nice to meet you”. she barely let you finish your sentence as she spoke again, “I hope you know you’re nothing special, everyone’s fucked him. He won’t stick around for long”, she replied casually. Your face fell at her words and you just stood there, speechless that a stranger would have the nerve to say these things, and if it was true or not, you didn’t care at the moment. She noticed your expression and smirked, “Just tryna save ya some embarrassment, honey”. And with that, she left, you followed after her, making a mental note to talk to Angel about this.

The night went on, you and Angels’ friends played pools, he played some beer pong, you laughed and had fun, but the girl’s words were still in the back of your mind. You went around to greet everyone before heading out and Angel was so proud as he watched you get along with all his brothers. Bishop gave him a pat on the shoulder adn a nod of approval, Angel grinning widely as he led you out of the place.

When he dropped you off, you invited him inside to talk. “I really don’t want to look like the girl who wants to tell you what to do – you started, and his eyes immediately were on your face, a concerned expression on his own, not knowing where this was going – but I’d appreciate your previous relationships staying out of our own”, you sat down in front of him at the table, where he was drinking a glass of water. “What does that even mean?”, he furrowed his brows and shook his head.

“This girl, in the bathroom, said, and I quote, ‘You’re nothing special, everyone has fucked him, he won’t stay long’. I don’t care what or who you did before me, and since it’s obvious we like each other, all I wanna know is if you want something serious with me or not. I don’t wanna waste time, mine or yours”, your voice was calm, collected, and his face fell once you were done talking. You hadn’t defined your relationship, not officially anyway, but he thought that by now you knew you were his, and his only. He got up and made you sit on the table, settling himself between your legs, clasping both your hands and holding them to his chest. “I waited a month to make love to you, I waited for you, if I just wanted sex, I’d have already left, mi dulce. You are my girl and-”, he paused, taking your hand in his, “and I’m not good at expressing what I feel, but I care a lot about you. And I’ll do everything I can to prove it to you”.

You smiled and put a hand on the back of his neck, bringing your lips together in a slow and sensual kiss. “I just wanted to be sure, Angel, you don’t have to prove anything. I see it in everything you do for me”, you whispered, your eyes closed as you peppered kisses on his collarbone and he rested his hands on your thighs, gripping the flesh and bringing you towards him. “I’d love to stay here and have a replay of last night, but I gotta head home”, he nibbled at your lower lip and you sighed. “Call me?”, he nodded and smiled at you, pecking your forehead and removing himself from you. Making his way to the door, you followed him and closed the door after kissing him goodnight.

The days went by and you and Angel passed the three-month mark in your relationship, Angel’s secret slipping to the back of his mind, figuring that he’d tell you when the time was right, but he soon discovered that “the right time” was his bullshit excuse to avoid the consequences, again.

When he finished his shift, he unlocked his phone, finding dozens of texts from you and lots of missed calls. Immediately worried, he didn’t even look at his brothers, getting on his bike and speeding to your house. He entered you home all sweaty, both from the sun outside and from having just finished work, and if you weren’t scared as hell, you would’ve asked him to take you right there and then.

“What’s wrong, mi dulce?”, you were petrified, crying, you couldn’t talk, you could just point at what was on your table. His eyes followed the direction of your finger: on the table were multiple pictures, some of you and him, some of him and his brothers while- oh. While moving drugs. There was a note next to them. ‘We’re watching you’. Simple and, judging by your current state, effective. “Angel, what the fuck is all this?”, you looked at him, how could he be so unaffected by all of this? How could he be so calm? Why wasn’t he freaking out that someone had followed you? He looked at you, then back at the pictures.

“You should sit down for this”, was his only answer.

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#angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #mayans mc imagine #my writing #a series of firsts

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writeroutoftime · 3 years

Text

dreamland

pairing: jack castello x reader (requested by: anon)

summary: when one day you meet the charming jack castello, you never thought your relationship would be anything more than business, but as this dreamer slowly starts to break down your walls, you find yourself falling hard adn fast. though at what cost?

warnings: ANGST, infidelity? (I mean the it’s Dreamland, like from the show)

words: 2.7k

a/n: this was requested MONTHS ago, and I am so sorry, anon. also, I’m not sure if this is what you had in mind because the request only said “they meet in dreamland,” and this is where my mind went. but, I’ve spent a lot of time on this story, and I’m very proud of it. I know that hollywood and jack castello doesn’t get a lot of attention, but if you’re reading this, I truly hope you enjoy it!

oOoOo

The warm air hit your face as you drove through the streets of Hollywood, only slowing to pull into the Golden Tip gas station as you stopped in front of extremely attractive attendant. “Take me to Dreamland?” you purred, pulling your sunglasses down.

“S-sure thing, miss.” he stuttered. There was a moment of hesitation in his eyes as he looked back towards Ernie, then, after a silent conversation, hopped into your car.

As soon as he sat down, you moved your glasses up once more and pulled out of the station, back onto the busy road. It was by no means your first time going to Dreamland, in fact, you had been a loyal customer at the Golden Tip for years. The entire drive to the hotel, you noticed the man next to you bouncing his leg up and down. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the sun reflect off his wedding band, and you sighed internally. Of course, you knew that many attendants at the Golden Tip were married, but you didn’t want to coach this rookie through his first act of infidelity.

Once in your hotel room, the man hadn’t seemed to have calmed down at all. “So, what’s your name, stud?” you asked with a smile as you threw your purse on the dresser and began to get comfortable in the room.

“Jack.” he answered, clipped and a little shaky.

By that point you had moved to the bed and tossed your shoes to the side. “Well, Jack, I’m y/n, and you don’t gotta be so nervous around me. I don’t bite, you know.” you teased.

“Oh, I know.” he said as he wrung his hat nervously between his hands. Then, he set the hat down and took a step towards you until he stood over you seated on the bed. He leaned down and kissed you, but there was hesitancy and an air of awkwardness as he did so. It wasn’t that Jack was a bad kisser, but you could tell it felt obligatory on his part.

Breaking the kiss, you placed your hands on his chest. “Jack, it’s alright.” you told him gently. “First day working for Ernie?”

“That obvious?” he asked, hand running across his face.

“A little.” you admitted but rushed to added on. “But that’s good. Means this damn town hasn’t taken your morals yet.” you told him, your tone becoming cold and harsh at the end.

“What do you mean?”

There was a moment of hesitancy as you tried to think of the best way to express your thoughts. “Well, you’re still wearing your wedding band, so obviously you have some sense of responsibility, and you’re just trying to make ends meet however you can. Wanna tell me about her?”

His eyes shot open in surprise and he looked like he didn’t know how to respond. “Uh….”

“Alright, maybe that wasn’t my best idea.” you chuckled, then an idea popped in your head. “How ‘bout this, Jack? We just talk. I’ll still pay you for your time, but I don’t want you being uncomfortable. Oh, and we’ll say that our relationships are off the table.” you explained and stood up to grab your cigarettes before you sat back down and draped your legs over the nearby chair. “So, what brings you to Hollywood?”

“Well, I-I wanna be a movie star.” Jack said and sat down, already beginning to feel less uncomfortable.

“A movie star?” you asked, intrigued. “Would I have seen you in anything recently?”

“No, not yet. But I’m trying to get my break and become a contract actor at Ace Pictures.” he explained and accepted your offer of a cigarette.

“Well isn’t that something. I can see it, you know.” you said before you took a drag of your own cigarette with a thoughtful look. “Your name, up in lights on that big screen. You’re gonna make it big in this town. Just don’t forget yourself.” you warned – and that wasn’t a lie. You had been in the town long enough to know that Jack had the charm, looks, and charisma to make it big, but at what cost?

Jack studied you before he spoke. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Well, what did you mean earlier when you said this town hasn’t taken my morals yet?” he questioned, blue eyes scrunched in confusion.

For the briefest moment, you closed your eyes to choose your words carefully before you spoke. “You know how it is. People come out to Hollywood with only a dream and the clothes on their back, they sell their soul to get their shot, and if it fails, they’re kicked to the curb like yesterday’s trash.” you explained with a wave of your hand.

“And are you speaking from personal experience?” he egged.

“I thought we agreed not to talk about our relationships.” you reminded him with narrowed eyes and a teasing smile. “Now I may not be the biggest fan of this town, but I do love a good movie. So, what’s your favorite?”

The next few hours passed as conversation flowed easily between you and Jack, and the darkening sky told you that you had stayed at the hotel longer that you originally planned. Somewhat reluctantly, you drove Jack back to the Golden Tip and handed him the cash as he stepped out of the car.

“Thanks for the chat. See you around, movie star.” you said, and threw him a wink before you drove away.

oOoOo

The next time you pulled into the Golden Tip, you made sure that Jack was the one to take you to Dreamland. He already seemed less nervous, and once more, the two of you spent the whole time lost in conversation. There was something about Jack that was just so intoxicating. From the way he spoke, you could clearly tell how passionate he was and how he still saw the good the world had to offer.

There was an even deeper sense of connection when Jack stopped accepting your money. This was, of course, ridiculous in your eyes, and you still found a way for Ernie to slip him the cash each week. Not because that’s all you saw him as, but because you knew Jack was trying to make ends meet. But despite the voluntary lack of payment, Jack would drop everything each time he watched your car pull in. It didn’t take long for the other attendants to understand that when your car pulled up, Jack would be the only one to greet you.

It was a little longer than a month when Jack finally took the initiative to kiss you again. It was unexpected, but heated and passionate. However, you quickly pulled away and rested your hand on your chest as you panted to catch your breath. “Are you sure you want to do this, Jack?” you questioned, wanting him to know that it wasn’t anything you expected.

“I’m finally taking you to Dreamland.” Jack breathed, huskily, and kissed you once more.

Clothes flew to the floor and you were enthralled by the passion and the ecstasy that Jack brought you. Afterwards, the two of you laid side by side under a thin sheet, and you couldn’t help the way your finger traced patterns over Jack’s chest. Although every nerve in your body was telling you not to, you couldn’t help the way your heart had started to soften for Jack. It was a dangerous situation to get yourself into, but love was a risk all in of itself. You and Jack stayed at the hotel later than you normally did, and even once you had dropped Jack back off at the Golden Tip station, you couldn’t get him out of your head.

Of course, it had been his brown hair and dazzling, blue eyes that you had first been attracted to, but it was the story behind his smile and his refreshing optimism that had that drew you in and trapped your heart when you were completely unaware. Even the way he spoke of his passions for film began to soften you heart and thoughts on Hollywood, something you never thought would be possible. He gave you a sense of security, in which you felt yourself begin to lower the walls you had built around your heart years ago. For the first time in a long time, you showed Jack who you really were, and not your paper-thin, Hollywood creation.

Each time Jack took you to Dreamland over the next few weeks, you promised yourself it would be the last – but it never was. He was intoxicating, and even though you knew he had a wife, you dangerously let yourself imagine a world where the two of you could be together. Not only did the fact that he had a wife make you say that you were crazy, but you had vowed long ago that you wouldn’t let yourself fall in love again. However, there was little you could do and each time you saw him, you had to stop yourself from laying all your feelings out on the table.

“So, what drew you to Hollywood, y/n?” Jack finally whispered, after one of your escapes to Dreamland, looking down at you laying on his chest, not wanting to scare you off.

At his question, your heart began to beat a little faster as the memories came rushing in. Normally, you would brush the question off and turn the conversation on the other person, but Jack made you feel safe, and you wanted to get this burden off your chest. “What brings any young, naïve girl to Hollywood, a man.” you began, and Jack sat up, with you still in his arms, to give you his full attention. “We meet in my small town and he charmed me with the glamour of his clothes and his fairytale life. He told me how talented I was and how beautiful I’d look up on the silver screen.

“Well, fast forward to me leaving my family behind, giving him most of my money to make the move out here, and then the bastard left me shortly after a string of failed auditions.”

There was an uncomfortable silence as Jack processed your words and felt fury towards the man who had abused your trust. “But everything happens for a reason, right?” you told him and placed a kiss to his bare skin. “Then I picked myself back up, opened my shop, and now I’m doing better than I would have if he had stuck around. Besides,” you added. “I’m not meant to be up on that big screen.”

“I think you’d look beautiful up there.” Jack told you and you hid your head in his chest, though your heart soared, and you savored the warmth Jack offered you.

In that moment, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and imagine a life that you and Jack could live. Happier and together, and in a world where nothing would ever be able to hurt you again.

oOoOo

One afternoon you pulled in front of the Golden Tip, a flirty comment ready on your lips, until you realized there was a blonde attendant at your car, and not your Jack. Eyes furrowed in confusion, you feigned a smile at the man in front of you and asked to talk to Ernie. Of course, you knew Jack must have had other customers, but he always made sure he was available when you showed up.

“Didn’t the kid tell you?” Ernie asked, cigar in between his fingers.

Slowly, you shook your head, gripping the wheel tighter, nervous for what was to come out of Ernie’s mouth next. “No, I haven’t heard from or seen Jack in a while.” Things had picked up quite a bit at your shop and it was hard to find time to sneak away during the day.

“Well, he got a part in one of Ace Pictures upcoming movies. Meg, I think it is.” Ernie told you with a big grin on his face. “Can you believe it? Our Jack out there in the big leagues! Course that means he had to quit, but I don’t blame him.”

Ernie’s words faded away as you processed everything, and struggled to keep the tears at bay. While you were so proud and excited for Jack, you couldn’t help but feel let down once more, and in Dreamland this time no less`. Even after everything that happened, you were foolish enough to believe the pretty words Jack had whispered to you between the sheets and allowed him access to your heart.

Suddenly, Ernie stopped talking as he took in your blank expression and felt his own heart ache for you. “Aw, doll, I’m sorry.” he whispered, not needing the confirm what he suspected, it was easy enough to tell. “I’m sure Jack’ll be back around soon. You know what? I’ll call him and tell him to-“

“No, Ernie.” you snapped, then wiped your eyes and looked up the man who had watched you go through a similar thing all those years ago when you first moved to Hollywood. “I’m so happy for Jack, truly. Besides, I’m sure he’s got so much on his mind, I don’t want him to worry about little old me.” you said and tried to chuckle, though it sounded more like a choked back sob.

“Don’t say that. I know that he cared for you.” Ernie rushed to say, but you didn’t want his pity.

“I’ll be fine Ernie. Thank you though.” you said and kissed his cheek, wanting to get out of there as quickly as you could.

oOoOo

Time passed and you slowly began to heal, just like you had the first time. Once more, you rebuilt the walls around your heart – this time twice as strong. It was hard most days to think about Jack and everything you imagined the two of you could have been. Of course, you also found yourself chiding yourself for being so irrational. Who falls in love with a married man that was just sleeping with you until he got his big break?

‘No,’ you thought. ‘Jack was different. Maybe he just got busy with the movie.’ You often told yourself to feel better. There had been a lot of press (both good and bad) around Jack’s upcoming movie, and rumors swirled that he and his co-star Claire Wood had been seen getting cozy. For whatever reason, you could never find it in your heart to truly be mad at Jack. Besides, how could you compare to the lure of a contract with Ace Pictures?

Eventually, the pain faded to a dull throb until most days you didn’t even notice.

It wasn’t until a few months later that the thought of Jack crossed your mind once more. It had happened on a late, evening weeknight as you drove around downtown, looking for something to do, when you eventually stumbled across a movie theater still playing shows. Without even looking at what the movie was, you bought your ticket and sat down in the nearly empty, darkened theater.

The moment the credits began to roll on screen you felt your heart stop. There, up on the silver screen, just like you had told him all those months ago, was Jack Castello.

The movie unfolded and you found yourself entranced by his performance. Everything you had thought about him when you met him was true – he was bold, charismatic, and meant to be up on the silver screen. The end of the movie brought you to tears, and not just because of the scene. As you watched Jack’s character passionately kiss his co-star, all the feelings you had for Jack came rushing back and you had to leave the theater to let out your sobs.

All the times the two of you had spent in each other’s arms felt like little needles that pierced your skin. The secret kisses and giggles as you checked into a new hotel room under a different alias each time. The thrill of being with Jack, and the contentment your heart felt afterwards as he protected you with his embrace. For those few hours, you always believed you had belonged to him, and he to you.

Thinking back on it all, you felt as foolish as a schoolgirl. Had you really expected you and Jack to run off into the sunset for your very own Hollywood style happily ever after? This town had a way to make situations seem shiny and new, when it reality, it would all eventually reveal itself to be a mirage. It seemed as though your time had come sooner than you expected, and for once, you felt at peace with your fate.

With one, final look up at the marquis, you felt a watery smile tug at your lips. “You did good, movie star.” you whispered before driving off into the warm, Hollywood night.

oOoOo

tagging: @quilledcheese, @theliterarymess, @nonotespepperwood, @lauren-lopez-blasting-off, @dylanxobriannn (based on my post a few weeks ago)

#jack castello x reader #jack castello imagine #hollywood x reader #hollywood imagine #netflix hollywood #jack castello hollywood

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anangelicday-mrwolf · 3 years

Text

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 28 – I’m in Love With You

“Wait, wait, wait. I don’t get it.”

“So much for all that lecture. You might wanna consider removing that appendage called head off your shoulders; I’m starting to doubt if it’s any good for you.”

“...Why are you so mean?”

“Took you long enough to realize that. And I can be meaner if I want to.”

Muzaka and Frankenstein had joined the key werewolf warriors and a small squad of werewolf researchers, Adne included, in the biggest lab that the wolfkind possessed, in the chamber stationed in the most estranged corner of the building.

The table they were surrounding was hosting a distorted shape that looked like a human-sized marionette broken for good.

But the metallic glare flashing here and there and overtly chiseled muscle fibers on its physique were too strange to be attributed to a marionette.

“So this isn’t your first time meeting this fella, right?”

“Right.”

“And this isn’t the first time he died, right?”

“Right.”

“But he came back after each death in the exact same looks, right?”

“Right.”

“Which means there’s a good chance you’d run into him again, right?”

“Make me say right one more time, and I’ll make sure you won’t ever get to mutter the term again.”

Yup, you’re definitely mean.

Whereas Muzaka grumbled in his head, he did not fail in wearing a serious face, regarding the one who once occupied this biotechnological body, as well as the last activity he exhibited before demise.

And such behavior was not limited to the werewolf lord.

“Just what could he have possibly earned from here to send to Union?”

“Do you think he learned about the QuadraNet...?”

And of course everyone’s top priority was the first topic to be brought up.

“But the transmission modem installed by Jang is fine. If this agent knew about the modem, there’s no way he would have left it standing.”

“He would have, given that he knew not the purpose of that thing.”

“But there’s no denying that now Union has acquired something from this lab.”

Adne, Kentas, and Dorant each added their conclusion drawn from the activity of the Union’s biological weapons.

Their number, force, and strategy were all superior to those displayed during their initial invasion; nevertheless, all they did was merely standing against the warriors near the boundaries.

Not to mention those that managed to break through the boundaries were not really interested in bloodshed or destruction; they simply exchanged a few attacks and counterattacks with Muzaka as he stood guard of the lab (although the said attacks and counterattacks did leave considerable damages).

All in all, apparently these unanticipated, unwanted visitors wanted to distract werewolves and hold them captive where they stood, supported by the fact that the “man in the iron mask” joined the rest of the army after whatever it had done.

That was when Frankenstein’s off-battlefield habit as a researcher and scientist kicked in.

“Perhaps he obtained something from your servers.”

Frankenstein by no means meant to upset them, but he did expect them to be alarmed.

To his bizarre disappointment, the werewolf researchers including Adne were unfazed by his words.

“We checked the servers as soon as we could access the lab, but we found no record of infiltration.”

“Impossible. Any attempt to pull something against security is bound to leave a mark one way or another.”

“We checked multiple times, but we found nothing.”

Since security programs and firewalls are protecting the servers in layers, any trial on breaking through the security, no matter how weak or brief it is, should immediately yield a permanent record.

So if they have found no such record, not even a dent, that would mean not a soul ever touched the servers, or......

“Would you mind if I take a look myself?”

Frankenstein scavenged through all servers and files, like a fox digging through snow after 3 weeks of starvation.

He could not find anything, however.

Normally this would have been a good thing, but he did not like the fact that the Union seemingly left nothing to sabotage the werewolves after days of skirmish.

‘Maybe Tao can pick up something. I’d better ask for a copy of the server log from Dr. Adne.’

That was when he realized that he had forgotten something – the purpose of his visit.

“Anyways, how long is it going to take for Lunark to return? It’s been days already.”

Kentas’s comment, spilled so very nonchalantly, struck the blonde human’s spine from its bottom.

He reacted by cautiously taking his part in the conversation, which was not outright unnatural, given that the last thing Kentas brought out before he lost communication with him was Lunark’s name.

“Speaking of which, you wanted to talk to me about her. What happened?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Did Lunark find you by any chance?”

“...Why would you think Lunark would find me?”

“Remember how in the past she brought you here in order to bring out Lord Muzaka from the experimental tank? So I’d thought maybe she decided to drop by once more on her way back from her escort to Lukedonia, because she had a personal favor to ask you.”

Kentas’s explanation guided everyone’s eyes towards Frankenstein.

On the other hand, they knew there is nothing Frankenstein can provide them with; after all, his question regarding Lunark’s whereabout preceded that of Kentas.

Which is why practically everyone began throwing their surmises and theories into the air.

“This isn’t the first time the girl’s decided to be gone for days. What could have happened?”

“And I’m sure she is gone for a good reason.”

“Forgive me, my lord, but we have just restarted our strife against the Union. And there’s no guarantee Lady Lunark would not run into them, may it be accidental or not.”

“So how about sending some of your warriors to where she might walk by?”

“But what if Lunark returns once we do that? And what if the Union strikes again when our forces have dwindled in number?”

“That may bring irredeemable results, my lord.”

They were not arguing; as a matter of fact, they were not. However, the rate at which their lips danced surely gave impression that they were less than a millimeter away from an argument.

As he watched them like some uninvited guest, Frankenstein was itching to hop on board. No, he was dying to demand them to tell him what was the last thing Lunark had done before she left.

“For now, let’s just give her a few more days. We’ll figure out what to do after we’re done waiting, if she does not show up. Right now, our priority lies within our boundaries, not beyond.”

None of the werewolves protested at Muzaka’s mediation, showing their universal agreement with a vow of head.

Frankenstein was the only one to keep his stiff stance, with blue fire wild in his eyes.

‘Seriously? They’re doing nothing about this?’

He kept his position as the crowd began to empty the room, and Muzaka, the last one to follow, caught him by the corner of his eyes and retraced his steps.

“Which reminds me, I didn’t thank you yet. Thanks, Frankenstein. We would’ve suffered much more if it weren’t for you.”

“...Sure, though I wasn’t really waiting for you to say that.”

“Of course you weren’t. Now be free and run along.”

What a way to treat someone you just thanked.

Frankenstein would have retorted so, if it were not for the fact that this was no time to let his tongue flaunt its deadly performance.

Now that the situation is terminated, he no longer had a legitimate reason to stick around. Strictly speaking, he is an ally of the wolfkind, not a direct affiliate. And he did not receive any invitation, unlike Yuhyung’s case.

He debated with himself if he should insist on helping werewolves to recover the damage; if he is lucky enough, he might get to witness Lunark marching back safe and sound.

Unfortunately, he was smart enough to calculate it was impossible to do that, and he had only himself to blame.

He remembered how he scribbled all over his body that he is busy when Muzaka first contacted him for their deal – the deal that Frankenstein accepted only when Muzaka employed the secret behind Raizel’s return as a bait.

So Frankenstein could bet that Muzaka is ready to see him racing across water this instant; the werewolf lord would definitely question if he declines to leave, with or without Lunark’s name dispensed from his mouth.

Which is why he eventually headed towards the exit, telling Muzaka that he needed no escort.

As he walked towards the least populated area around the boundaries, his steps grew heavier every second.

Aren’t they even worried?

No, she does not need anyone to worry about her.

I’m just being sensitive.

But what if the researchers are right? What if something did happen to her...?

That moment, the concern and anxiety brewing within halted his steps.

Should I go look for her?

Nobody can veto my independent search, so I wouldn’t have to tell the werewolves about this.

They said she was the one who took Mr. Yuhyung to Lukedonia. Should I start from there?

No, by now she should have left Lukedonia.

So where should I begin?

What if she ran into Union’s minions on her way back? So what if she met the same fate as Razark...?

Frankenstein did not even have time to remind himself that since the best fighters in Union are gone, no one would be able to even fake-pose a threat to the werewolf lady, before his eyes were gritted, his fists clenched like vise grip.

‘If someone dared to lay a finger on her...’

He knew he would not let those whatever-their-names-are-fiends live.

He knew he would chase them to the bottom of the earth if he has to, in order to butcher them and feed them to Dark Spear himself.

Just then, a familiar hue waved near Frankenstein’s eyesight and drew his attention.

It was the color emitted only when he unleashes the power of Dark Spear.

His head steeled as if he were slapped by an enemy, and he soon discovered one of his hands was plastered with the aura of Dark Spear, with something burning dark purple in the vicinity of the said hand.

He hurriedly restrained his power and gaped at his hand in puzzlement and alarm.

‘What have I done...?’

He swore to himself that he will keep the power of Dark Spear under control for this journey.

Prior to his arrival, he nailed it in his head that Dark Spear is not an option in the first place for the battle that may come.

Alas, as soon as he deliberated on the possibility that someone might have harmed Lunark, the first thing to pop into his mind was his cursed weapon.

Feeling indescribably complicated, he wiped his face with the palm of his other hand, and he spotted something through his fingers.

He finally registered the fact that he was standing in the middle of pink – pink from all corners waltzing beneath his knees, under the shades of trees and bushes.

He was standing in midst of the pink wolfsbanes native to the werewolf realm, the kind that Lunark told him about.

Wondering how he ended up here, Frankenstein stared into the wolfsbane nearest to him.

‘No wonder it felt kind of chilly here.’

One peculiar characteristic of wolfsbane is that it is not a sun-friendly species of plant; its flower blooms in the shades, in the area with cool temperature.

And his experience with this exclusive-to-werewolf-domain species of wolfsbane taught him that it was particularly sensitive to light.

He once left one of the samples from Lunark stranded on his desk, and after a brief absence he was to see how it partially withered under the desk lamp, as if it were partially mummified.

He could not imagine what kind of scene this plant with such vulnerability to artificial light would pull off under natural light that cannot be compared to his desk lamp.

He would not be surprised to see the plant burn to naught, like the one that was exposed to his aura just now.

The blonde human’s eyes darkened as he looked into the glossy pink petals, so vivid and brilliant in color that he could not even stare at it properly, let alone finger it.

The pink petals enveloping him led his thoughts to someone’s pink pupils.

Just what am I doing here...?

Why did I screw everything at hand because of her?

I know she doesn’t need any help, so why do I bother?

Why am I thinking of her as I view this scenery?

There’s no good in thinking about her. Or keeping her close.

If I were to keep her close in my current situation......

She might be gone. She might burn into ashes, like wolfsbane under the sun. Like the one that was caught in his aura.

So now was the good time to cut off all mental ties to the werewolf warrior and scurry back to his island.

Yet he could not understand why he could not leave and crumpled his face, when a voice smoothly sliced through the air.

“Frankenstein...?”

A mixture of incomprehension and fluster echoed, and his head spun towards the speaker as if it were enchanted.

“Lunark...?”

She was there, her hair and robe disarranged a little, probably due to a run-slash-sprint.

However, thankfully she looked as fine as she could be.

Which brought immense relief to Frankenstein’s heart.

Which would have induced a bit of annoyance smudged with reassurance if it were someone else.

This time it was different.

Thank heavens.

Frankenstein’s eyes and heart heaved as if tears would fall, and his entire world swirled.

He was scolding himself that there is no reason for the world to swirl, when Lunark spoke with bewilderment, stepping several steps back, “What is it...? What happened to you?”

Don’t.

Don’t shy away from me.

Don’t do this to me, after everything you’ve done to me.

Just stay right there and...

Then he noticed how his distance from the woman was closed, and he soon perceived that he was the one who invalidated their distance in a single breath, his body curled halfway towards her as if trying to take her in his arms.

The situation was more than awkward, but everything went to hell upon taking in Lunark’s countenance in his eyes.

Nothing matters now. She’s back. She’s back safely to her home. She’s back to me.

The moment he comprehended how he just applied his ownership to her, his heart resonated with several clicks.

The reason why he bolted out of his lab almost as soon as he lost connection with Kentas, who was about to mention something about her.

The reason why he had been hopelessly astray at heart and mind because of her.

The reason why he almost threw himself on her just now.

The reason why he felt joyous, almost ecstatic to see her safe and breathing.

I’m in love with you.

Now that he admitted it, the invisible weight on his shoulders lifted, only to move onto his chest.

Because for the first time ever, Dark Spear was right.

It was right when it said he did care for her.

(next chapter)

Aaaaand finally, ladies and gentlemen, Frankie admitted it! XD I was dying to compose and post this chapter, and I took extra care as I was plotting and writing. And the next chapter was also a personal highlight for me to write; you’ll get to see why next week. So I hope you’d stay tuned!

#korean webcomic #korean webtoon #noblesse #frankenstein #lunark #frankensteinxlunark #wolfsbane #fanfic

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longhornhudson · 4 years

Text

Heartbeat Song- Hudrose

Who: Finn Hudson and @longhornmarley

When: May 26th, 2020

Where: Doctor’s Office in Austin

Notes: The expecting duo hear the best sound in the world... (this was done in chatzy)

Finn Finn was nervous about today. Not only would he be getting the first round of grades from his finals but he was going to hear his little son or daughter's heartbeat today. A million thoughts ran through his head... would it be a healthy rhythm, was there going to be more than one... would there even be one... he had been reading a lot of books and all of these were relevant questions but the only one he truly cared about was if it was healthy. Not that he would love the little one any less but every expecting couple, or in this case best friends, wanted their child to be perfect. He took some deep breaths and told himself to remain optimistic for not only his sake but for Marley's. She had been under enormous stress and the last thing she needed was for him to mention anything being wrong. He walked towards the door to her room and gently knocked, a smile forming when he heard a response on the other side. He had been feeling so emotional the last few weeks and today was no exception. It was a big step and one he was beyond excited for.

Marley Despite being nervous about the day, Marley slept like a rock. Probably due to all the moving Finn and her did the previous day. After her incident Friday, it kinda put things off which was fine and she was now officially roommates again with Rachel and now Finn. It was strange to have him so close to her now. Any moment she could go see him and that was both exciting and nerve wracking. She had gotten up early thanks to her alarm and gotten ready for the day, wearing one of the many dresses she was sent by LeRoy that she loved so much. She had just finished fixing her hair when she heard the knock on the door. "Just sec!" She yelled and quickly made her way through the boxes, almost tripping on one, before opening the door. "Hey! I was just gonna come find you." She grinned at the man before her.

Finn "Great minds think alike I guess." He teased, leaning inside her room at all the boxes. "When we get back, I'll help you unpack since I've already done mine. Of course, it's easy when you only have two boxes of stuff." Since Finn had started working out to meet the weight requirements for football, he was finding that a lot of his old things didn't fit anymore and he had donated them to the Goodwill. "I mean if you want me too. I know some girls probably wouldn't want a guy to see..." he trailed off with a laugh, shaking his head. "Anyway, are you almost ready?" Finn asked, letting his eyes take in her outfit. "Yo uh look beautiful, is that one of Leroy 's... and does he make menswear?" The jock teased, his nose scrunching. "I suddenly find myself in need of new clothes."

Marley "Or maybe the baby is giving us telepathy powers." She laughed softly and looked back at the boxes in her room. She then looked back at him and grinned as he kept talking. She found it so cute when he did this. "What? Underwear? You've already seen mine and you saw lingerie you-know-who sent me so I'm not sure there's anything else I could hide." She teased him back. "Yeah, no, I'm ready." She smiled as he noticed her outfit. "Thank you. It is. He sent me a bunch. They're so flowy." She grabbed the fabric and moved it around. "Yeah? I'm sure he does. I mean, look at the way he dresses. I'm sure Rachel can hook you up."

Finn "That would be amazing, not even going to try and hide that. But it would also suck if we gave our kid powers and we're just lowly humans." He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as she filled in the blank of his thoughts. "Well I mean technically I did but I wasn't really paying attention to like what they looked like... it was more so trying to take them off with my drunken hands so..." He laughed, shaking his head. "And I've seen the lingerie but not you in it... and I'm going to shut up now." His laugh filled the quiet room as he waited for her to finish up. The dress fit just right and he couldn't help but reach out and put his hand on her belly. He didn't know what he was expecting to feel but just knowing that their child was inside made him smile. "Sorry, I know its still to early to feel them kicking but this is good practice right?" Finn asked, pulling his hand back adn shoving it into his pocket. "I haven't actually met them yet... I've been meaning too but I didn't want to like ask in case she wasn't ready."

Marley Marley couldn't help but laugh. "Would it suck or would we be amazing parents for creating such an amazing child?" She watched as he rubbed his neck and started rambling again. She smiled the whole time and just thought about how cute he was being. She reached out and touched his arm before laughing softly. "Finn, it's okay. I was teasing. You can help, though. I'm not embarrassed by anything. You know more about me than anyone these days." Her heart skipped a beat as he reached out and touched her stomach. She bit her lip as she just stared at his hand and she didn't stop herself from putting her hand on top of his for a moment. "Soon we'll feel him or her. Besides, you're the dad. You can touch whenever." She blushed a little bit before clearing her throat. "Oh, well, I'm sure you'll meet them soon. And they'll love you. Trust me. You have nothing to worry about." She looked deep into his eyes for a moment. "So, ready? I'm just gonna grab a pop tart before we head out. Eat something so I don't go through that again." Her smile went down a little, but she knew she would eat regularly now. Anything to make sure their little one was growing good.

Finn "Both." He laughed, his nose wrinkling before the embarrassment hit him. Sure he had seen her naked when they had hooked up but it wouldn't be right to see the rest of her undergarments, out of respect for her and his relationship with Rachel, but like she had said, it was just to help her unpack, nothing too scandalous there, and her reassurance made him smile. "That's true. I just wanted to make sure you didn't care since that's something private. But if you're okay with it, then I will definitely help you." He smiled, eyes looking down at their hands. It was a simple gesture and yet it felt so strange and surreal. He had never expected this, especially not at his age, but feeling the small bump, seeing the smile on her face, it kind of made all of the weirdness go away. "I appreciate that.. I definitely think once he or she starts kicking, I'll just pop up randomly and put my hand there to feel it. I need to know how strong it is so I know whether or not they'll be into sports." Finn laughed, nodding along to her words. "I was going to suggest that or we could stop at the drive thru and get some breakfast but I'll leave that decision to you." Once she had grabbed the pop-tart, he held the door open for her before locking it and heading to the elevator.

Marley She laughed with him and looked into his eyes. She hoped it wasn't weird that she was talking about him seeing her underwear. She really wasn't that private about it. She would be if there was something embarrassing , but it was generic items that she really didn't think was weird to see. Maybe she was wrong about that. It would be different if it was on her or something. She shrugged. "It's just clothes. But I can always do that and you can do my books." She smiled at him to give a compromise. Just having them touching her stomach together... it was amazing. She couldn't wait until they could feel the little one moving inside her. She was definitely incredibly happy. She laughed softly and shrugged. "That's fine. You are always free to come in and talk or feel or whatever to the bump. Though, what if they don't want to do sports?" She smirked as she walked towards the kitchen and grabbed a pack of pop tarts. "Ooh, yes please. You know I can't say no to drive thru. Especially right now." She laughed and got into the elevator. "I blame you." She teased him as she opened the pack up.

Finn No matter how comfortable Finn felt around Marley, there were some things that he didn't feel like he had the right to see, despite their past. But if she needed his help, he would swallow that feeling and do whatever he could to make that happen. It wasn't just Marley he felt this way about either. As many times as he'd slept with Quinn, he would have still felt weird seeing her underwear if she were here instead. It was a personal thing, very private, and he didn't feel like he should have access to seeing them, not unless he was dating or they gave him permission too. "I know but still, its your private things. I can definitely help you with the books though. Or you know, putting stuff on the high shelves." He laughed, thankful to shift the conversation away from her undergarments. He kept his hand there for a few more seconds before pulling it away with a smile. "That's good to know, I'll definitely knock first though. But you better hope that little bear didn't hear that remark. They're going to be a football player." The walk to the elevator was short and once they were inside, he finally spoke again. "I will take all that blame, sure. I can't see it as a bad thing when I know all this food is causing our kid to grow big and strong."

Marley She could tell how the subject was different to him than it was her. Underwear was nothing to her no matter who's it was, it was different for him and she'd respect that. "Books and high shelves it is." She laughed with him. Marley was really loving his hand on her stomach. It was cute and let the three of them be more connected this way; even though they always would be connected now. "Okay. And only if they want to. No pressure." She pointed at him and smirked as she leaned against the wall of the elevator while eating the pop tarts. Her hand now touched her stomach as he talked about the baby growing big and strong. "I know. I'm teasing. I will do anything to make sure our baby is growing big and strong. Especially when it comes to eating food." Her smile fell for a moment as she thought about the other night and now wrong it could've all gone. However, it turned out okay and she just needed to make sure she was taking care of herself so she could take care of the baby.

Finn Finn was really glad to see her eating, he had been kind of worried about that ever since her fainting spell a few days ago but she had promised she would eat and so far, he hadn't felt the need to tell her that she needed more. She had come close to being put in the hospital had he decided to do that but he gave her the benefit of the doubt, even if it had done nothing to quell the concern in his mind. After stopping at the closest fast food restaurant and grabbing them something to eat, he got on the road again, heading towards the clinic where Marley had all of her appointments. They engaged in pleasant conversations, laughing and joking around the entire trip. Soon, they had arrived and he glanced over at her, a warm smile on his face. "Are you as nervous as I am? I don't even really know why I am but I don't think I will be calm until I hear that little heartbeat."

Marley She knew how the other night scared both of them. When they called the doctor that night, she had been warned that if she felt worse to get to the hospital but everything was good now. She wouldn't let that happen again. Marley smiled as they got some food and she happily ate the breakfast one the way to the appointment. She honestly loved how easy things were with Finn. How they could talk and joke. It felt nice to just be herself with him. She looked at the building as they pulled up and then back over at him. "I am." Her hand, on instinct, went to her stomach and rubbed the little bump. "I want everything to be okay. I hope I didn't harm anything the other night and I can't wait to just hear the sound of their heart." She felt tears build up and she looked away to wipe them. "Sorry. I just really want everything to be healthy and normal."

Finn He smiled over at her, his hand coming over to rest on top of hers. "You don't have to be sorry about anything, Marls. I've been feeling the same way honestly. And way before you fainted. You need to stop beating yourself up about that too. Everything is going to be fine. We're going to go in there and it's going to be the fastest and loudest heartbeat they've ever heard and you wanna know why? Because they've got Marley Rose for a mom. She's strong and fierce and she loves them with her whole heart." He said, his smile widening before he removed his hand. He stepped out of the car and walked over to Marley's side and opened the door, helping her out. "And if I'm wrong, I will change their diapers every day for like a week." He grabbed her wrist and held it as they headed up the sidewalk and into the building.

Marley Hearing Finn's words made her cry harder than she already was. He could always say the right things to her and sometimes her emotions couldn't take it. She looked at him as he opened her door and wiped her eyes before just looking at him after she got out. "Thank you. Not for the diaper thing because I don't care about that." She laughed and just stared up at him. "For your words. I couldn't do any of this without you. I know it's a crazy situation we are in, but I'm happy that you are my baby's dad. Our baby's dad." And she meant that. She had no idea how this would've gone with anyone else and she didn't want to know. Finn was amazing and Marley knew that. She appreciated him more than she could ever tell him. After they were inside and checked in, the nurse called them back and did all the normal things before the doctor came in and started doing what she needed to. There were tests that got done and they discussed her fainting before she had Marley get comfortable on the bed and left to go get the ultrasound machine. The girl looked over at Finn and reached out for his hand. "Are you ready?"

Finn Seeing her emotional made him emotional and he leaned in to hug her softly before they took any steps further. "Anytime Marley. And I'm not just saying them to say them, I mean everything I ever say to you. You are going to be the best mom that this baby could ask for and I'll be there every step of the way to make sure that he or she is healthy, happy, and loved. You will never have to do this alone." He said, his lips upturning into a crooked but genuine smile. He knew that she was worried that her fainting spell had somehow damaged the baby and while he didn't know a whole lot about the situation, he knew that wouldn't be the case. She had done everything right leading up to this point but he worried that her stress levels might cause future problems and he told himself to work harder to ensure that she was as stress free this summer as she could be. Once all of the initial blood work and tests were completed, they were led back to an exam room and Marley was put up on the table. Finn's hand instinctively grabbed hers and gave it a squeeze as they waited for the doctor to arrive. He was excited to hear the heartbeat, and he knew it would help quell some of the concerns Marley herself was having. He sat down in the chair next to the bed and waited for the doctor to return.

Marley She hugged him back and smiled bigger as he said more sweet things. He was truly amazing and she had no idea how she got this lucky to have him as a friend. "Thank you. So much." She said and looked up at him. "I really am glad to have you." She said again and she would probably say it more before the baby was born. She gave his hand a squeeze back as she looked at him and took a deep breath. Soon, the doctor came back and set up the ultrasound. Once all set up, the doctor took a moment to find their little one and Marley grinned just seeing the baby. She really loved seeing him or her inside and healthy. "Okay, and now to hear the heart." The doctor said. Marley held her breath and squeezed Finn's hand tight before the most beautiful sound filled the room. Tears filled her eyes as she listened and she turned her head to look over at Finn to see his reaction.

Finn “You're welcome, Rosie.” He smirked, giving her hand a squeeze. The nickname just slipped out but something told him she wouldn't mind. Everyone else called her Marls and even though he didn't copyright the name, he also wanted one that only he could call her and judging by her face, she didn't hate it. “I'm glad I have you. Not only are you an amazing tutor and I never would have passed without all your help, but you're an amazing person and you're sweet and funny and I am so happy to be on this journey with you.” He confessed, his eyes meeting hers softly. There was a brief moment of silence where they just looked at each other, Finn's stomach in knots, which was probably due to the burger he'd just consumed, but it was broken by the doctor's arrival. Watching all the set up, to seeing the little baby on the monitor, to hearing the heartbeat, it was all so much and he couldn't help the tears that welled in the corner of his eyes. “Marley, they're beautiful.” He said, leaning in to kiss her cheek... only to be met by soft lips instead. His eyes opened wider and he quickly pulled back. “I... I'm sorry. I was trying to kiss your cheek.” He said, cheeks heating up. The knots in his stomach returned as they made eye contact once more.

Marley She was surprised by the nickname. No one ever called her something by her last name. It was usually Marls or Mars Bar or something to do with Marley. Marbles, Margot.... she could go on. Rosie. That was cute and she would let him continue calling her that. She squeezed his hand as he talked and smiled bigger. "Thank you, Finn. Really. I'm glad I'm on this journey with you too." She agreed. That heartbeat. She would never forget this sound and she was so happy to be hearing it. Tears went down her face and as she looked over at Finn, their lips met and her heart just raced for a moment. She swallowed as he started apologizing before shaking her head. "It's okay. It was an accident." She looked at him and then back over at the ultrasound to get her head on something else. "Can we record it somehow?" Marley asked and the doctor nodded; explaining she'd save the recording for them. She smiled as she kept looking and listening to their baby for a moment before looking back at Finn. "This is amazing."

Finn They tell you that having a baby is a miracle, that the months leading up to it are some of the most magical, and frustrating, and can lead to revelations that you didn’t even know about yourself. Well, Finn was feeling all of this and Marley wasn’t even close to giving birth yet. His emotions were all over the place and while he could say that it was just overwhelming due to his circumstances, deep down he knew that wasn’t the case. And when he heard that strong heartbeat fill the quiet, those emotions threatened to come out, hell they did come out, and he wasn’t sure there were words to describe what he was feeling. Love, happiness, excitement, fear… they were all there as he leaned in to kiss Marley’s temple… something so simple and yet, made more complicated by the touch of lips. It as an accident, happened all the time in any given situation, but what he didn’t anticipate was the brief chill up his spine. He pulled away immediately, telling himself that it was a brief gust of cold air from he overhead vent. Yeah, just some cold air against his neck. Smiling and pushing the incident down, he nodded at her words. “I can’t believe it. Its the best sound in the world.” He whispered, squeezing her hand.

Marley The day was bringing out all sorts of things. All sorts of emotions, and the kiss certainly added to those. If pregnancy wasn't something to bring these things out in the first place, the fact Marley was an emotional person would. She couldn't focus on the kiss. She wouldn't allow herself to because it was too hard since he was with Rachel. Instead, she focused on their baby, the little heartbeat that was making this all so much better. She squeezed his hand back and lightly touched part of her stomach with her free hand. "It is. It truly is."

Finn If he was confused before, he was even more so now. Hearing his child's heartbeat was surreal and there were no amount of words to describe what that felt like. It was proof that he or she was healthy, and alive, and had all their little fingers and toes and were essentially perfect. The accidental kiss, and the sudden rush of emotions that crept up were all due to the sound filling the room. Nothing more and nothing less. "I'll go make that recording for the expecting parents, be right back." Their doctor said, allowing Marley the chance to get dressed and composed. "I've never heard a more beautiful sound. And now we'll have it forever." He said, turning his back as she redressed. "We should let Rachel hear it too. She'll be happy to know how strong they are." He said, looking over his shoulder.

Marley Marley smiled at the doctor as she left and she sat up to get her clothes. "I know. I'm gonna listen to it all the time. You'll have to pry it from my hands to listen to it yourself." She teased as she made sure he wasn't looking before slipping back on her dress. The mention of Rachel made her heart ache and she nodded. "Right, of course. I'm sure she'd love to hear it." She said and pulled her hair up into a messy bun. "We'll do it tonight."

Finn "Oh not tonight. I think I'm going to need it tonight." He teased, his nose crinkling. "Nothing like the sound of a heartbeat to put you to sleep. We can wait until tomorrow when we’ve both rested. Today has been a heck of a day, so many emotions and nerves. We should just relax the rest of the day. We'll order in, watch some Netflix, and pass out early." He smirked, head turning towards the door as the doctor walked back in. "Here you go Miss Rose." He said, handing her the recording. "Try not to make copies, it could ruin the audio."

Marley She laughed. "You'll have to pry it from me. But you're right, she may not hear it over the phone. We'll do it when she gets back." Marley said as she sat down to wait for the doctor to come back in. "That sounds like the perfect night. Walking Dead marathon?" she smirked at him before standing and smiling. "Thank you. We won't. We'll just fight over it." She joked and looked at Finn. "Ready?

Finn "So rude Rosie." He teased, his nose wrinkling. "They're my kid too you know!" The jock smirked with a laugh, listening to the instructions from the doctor. "But yes, we can let her listen when she gets back from Disney. I'm sure she would love it." Listening to her suggestions for the rest of her night, he nodded, grinning over at her. "That sounds great, I love it." After everything had been situated and she put the recording into her purse, they left the room and headed out to make the next appointment. "So, are we going home or did you want to stop anywhere? Do we need snacks?"

Marley "But I am carrying them." She laughed back and just looked at him for a moment. "Yes, the second she gets back." She nodded and put the recording away before following him out into the lobby. "Ooh, stop for snacks. I really want Jack in the Box." She grinned and talked to the receptionist about the appointment for June before heading out of the office with Finn. "And if you're good, I'll let you listen to the recording with me." She smirked.

Finn "Damn it, you got me there. Fine, I suppose you should keep it because it might get lost in all the other stuff in my room otherwise. It'll give me an excuse to drop by your room whenever." He smirked, grabbing her hand and squeezing it before letting go. "So Jack in the Box... how are we on popcorn? Trail mix? Fruit? Chocolate and ice cream? I mean the Walking Dead is a long ass show." Holding the door open for her, he helped her into his car, running around to the other side to step in. "So store, snacks, Jack in the Box, home, Walking Dead. The perfect combination."

Marley "Exactly. I'll keep it safe and you can come listen whenever." She smirked and her heart leaped as he squeezed her hand. She swallowed and shrugged. "I'm not sure. I'm sure we're good, but we can stop and get extras. You can never have too much, right?" She got in and buckled up before looking at him. "Yes, definitely perfect with the perfect company."

Finn "Yes. I'll knock first though, I promise." He laughed, pulling out of the parking space. They headed back towards the apartment, stopping off at the store first to grab everything they would need for their marathon. An hour later, they made it back, and Finn changed into his batman shorts and a tshirt before plopping down on the couch. "You ready for this?"

Marley "Like you would need to." She commented. After they were back home and she had gotten into some shorts and a tank top, she got onto the couch and started snacking. "Yes. I have been for months when we first planned this." She teased him.

Finn "Let's do it then!" He smirked, pressing play on the remote and reaching for the snacks. Since they had seen the episodes before, Finn felt okay getting up to make some popcorn while the opening scene played. He wasn't gone long before he came back, steaming bowl in hand. "Here you go Rosie." He laughed, handing it to her.

Marley She focused on the screen as he started the show and snacked on the fries they got from Jack in the Box. She smiled as he came back with the popcorn and took the bowl. "I swear you can read the baby's mind on what exactly I'm craving."

Finn "Well if he's anything like me, then this is going to become his favorite snack." He laughed, shaking his head. They had gotten through the first episode, and midway through the second, when Finn felt his eyelids getting heavy. He looked over at Marley and she had already fallen asleep on his shoulder. He couldn't help but chuckle as he grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and wrapping it around them. "Goodnight Marley." He said, kissing the top of her head, stopping the episode and letting his own eyes fall closed.

#para: heartbeat

1 note · View note

easyimagines · 5 years

Note

can you do a cute one shot for Liebgott, how they midd each other adn they're protective of each other??

So, I didn’t fully understand the request, but I did write something I hope is in the ballpark of what you were hoping for. This is about how Lieb and his sweetheart meet. Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy. -Eugene

Your family loved the barbershop Joe’s dad operated. Your father had been going there for haircuts and shaves since the place opened. So when shorter hair came into style in the 30’s, that’s where you went.

The day you went, there was a cute boy working and man was he a flirt. You left the barber shop with his number and he had yours.

A few days passed before you had the chance to call him because of school, homework, and everything else. It was a pleasant surprise when it was actually him who answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi? Is Joe...Lieb...Liebgott there?” You tried to remember how he pronounced his last name. He told you it was Austrian.

“Oh good. I thought that was you.” You were grinning. “It’s Y/N L/N from the barbershop the other day.”

“Ah. I started to wonder if you forgot about me.”

“Now how could I forget about you? I wasn’t sitting in that chair for five minutes before you started flirting. Do you flirt with everyone like that?”

“Only the cute ones and Lord knows they’re rare.”

You were glad, for a split second, that you weren’t talking in person because you could feel how pink your cheeks were.

“Are you gonna ask me on a date or do I have to ask you?”

“Y/N, would you be interested in going to dinner with me Thursday night?”

“When and where?”

*****

Joe’s siblings, particularly his sisters, wanted to meet you. Badly.

His youngest sister, Marion, had been overheard talking to her doll about how cute she thought you were going to be.

To appease their nonstop questions, he asked you, at dinner, if you wanted to meet them.

“Wait, wait. How many siblings do you have, exactly?”

“Five. I’m the oldest. The youngest is just learning how to talk.” He smiled.

“You should have opened with that, Joe. No-one can say no to a babbling toddler.” You took a sip from your cup. “So when am I meeting them?”

“Whenever you want,” he chuckled.

You checked your watch. “It’s 6:30 now… I don’t have to be home until 9:00. We could go after we eat, if you want.”

“I don’t see why not.”

Needless to say, all of his siblings loved you. His mom even insisted you join the family for dinner on Saturday. That made Joe nervous but he stopped himself from blurting out until he got home from dropping you off at your parents’ house.

“Eema, is it really wise for Y/N to come over on Saturday?” Joe was helping her with dishes.

“What wouldn’t it be?”

“I haven’t exactly told Y/N we’re Jewish.”

“Joseph, it’s better things fall apart before they rise if Y/N doesn’t agree with Judaism.”

He could understand where she was coming from. You’d been so sweet to him that he strongly doubted you would try to blackmail him or his family. The Liebgott family went out of their way to hide the fact that they’re Jewish.

*****

Joe called you the next, Friday, to ask if you wanted to go for a walk. You gladly said you did, excited to see the young man again.

He picked you up from your house, leaving his car parked out front, and you started the walk by heading up the street. You walked, balanced on the curb, holding Joe’s hand.

“So, Y/N, there was something I wanted to ask you about.”

You paused and looked at him, stepping down from the curb. “What’s on your mind?”

“My uh...my family is Jewish. I wanted to give you a heads up before Saturday night. Saturday is our Sabbath, so there’s some songs and prayers.”

“Alright.” You nodded.

“What?”

“Alright.”

“You’re not annoyed?” Joe looked honestly shocked.

“No. Why would I be annoyed?” It was your turn to be confused. “Did you think I was gonna stop seeing you because you’re a Jew?”

“Little bit, yeah.”

“It doesn’t bother me at all that you’re Jewish. I don’t see why it would, really.”

“Just… My parents send my siblings and I to a Catholic school to keep it hidden from our neighbors. Everything going on in Europe right now-”

“Is in Europe. Miles and miles from tiny, little Michigan. It’s okay. I’m not gonna cut ties and run because you don’t worship the same way my family does. And- you know what?”

“What?”

“I’ll do you one better, Joseph Liebgott.” You said, placing the hand

that wasn’t holding his on your hip.

Joe chuckled.

“I’m fully willing to punch anyone who gives you any shit about being Jewish.”

Joe full on laughed when you swore. You, such a sweet and caring person, using language that his mother would swat him for. It sounded so odd coming from your lips, yet all he wanted to do was kiss them.

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jae-sch-writes · 5 years

Text

Punchin’ Bag

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester, unnamed demon

Word Count: 1414 (w/ lyrics), 1268 (w/o lyrics)

Request: @dumb-bitch-juice-69 what about dean winchester x reader based on the song Punching Bag by Cage the Elephant where the reader is totally badass

Genre: fluffy, with a bit of angst in the beginning

Warnings: abuse, stabbing, general SPN violence

Lyrics are italicized

A/N: This piece is based on Punchin’ Bag by Cage the Elephants. Edited by Grammarly but any and all mistakes are my own and no one is to blame for them but me, myself, and I.

She’s a stone cold straight-faced killer and a lover

And she won’t put up with another

Brute who only wants to bruise her

Take her love and then abuse her

She won’t take no more

Y/N L/N: possibly one of the strongest hunters there could possibly be. After being abused by her ex for a year, she had enough.

She tried to leave, but he wouldn’t let it happen. Y/N persisted, but her ex only got angry and even more violent whenever she brought it up. When he got angry and blew up at her, his eyes would turn a pure black. Y/N was so terrified that she stayed and stopped trying to run away, but it did push her to figure out what exactly was wrong with her boyfriend.

Y/N dug around on the Internet and spent countless hours in the library trying to find anything relating to black eyes and her boyfriend’s behavior. She was more than shocked to find out the cause of the black eyes: demons.

She found an exorcism and learned the proper pronunciation of the Latin from a professor at the local university. That night at dinner, she said the words and the demon was gone for a while, but her boyfriend was gone forever.

There were no tears and she left without a trace, but her life was changed forever. Her eyes had been opened to the world of the supernatural.

Oh no, ain’t it a drag

If you take a swing, she swing back

She say I’m not your punching bag

From that point on, Y/N became more and more aware of the things lurking in the shadows adn she didn��t become anything but better at hunting them.

The demon from her past kept coming for her, but that never stopped Y/N. She just always fought back. If the demon took one punch, Y/N threw two more back at it.

After two years of hunting, she finally was able to get rid of the demon who started it all. Y/N found him and she wasn’t intending on leaving until it was dead.

“Well, well, well. Did you miss being my little toy? I must say I’ve missed by boxing lessons, but it seems my sparring partner went away for a while. But you’re back now, so that doesn’t matter. Oh, how I did enjoy leaving you a mess on the floor, bloody, bruised, crying, and begging for mercy. It was so much fun!”

Throughout the demons monologue, Y/N’s blood began to boil, but that last statement made something in her snap.

She lunged forward and plunged the angel blade she had acquired a year ago into the demon’s chest. She had enough of this monster torturing and taunting her. She was tired of letting this thing walk over her.

Once the demon was nothing but a bloody mess on the ground, she finally stopped fighting.

“I’m not your punchin’ bag,” Y/N said over the dead body and walked away, never having to worry about that demon ever again.

Heaven help you, I’m telling the truth

Heaven help you, she’s coming for you

Heaven help you, the girl likes to fight

Afraid of nothing and she carries a knife

She said

I’m not your punching bag

“Dude, I’m telling you, whoever this hunter is, they’re good,” Dean said when he and Sam sat at a booth in some diner in New Mexico. “I mean, a whole nest of vamps just wiped out? A coven of witches burned? Hell, they even took care of a town of demons. This person is badass. I think whoever this is, they should join us. We could use their help.

“Yeah, but what happens when the next “Big Bad” comes for them too. We’d be pulling them in farther than they want.”

“Then I’m sure they’d be more than happy to help us take care of it. This hunter seems to enjoy the job. I mean, you don’t go this far and hard without liking what you’re doing. I’d like to meet this person.”

“Well boys, it appears to be that today is your lucky day,” Y/N said as she turned in her chair to face the Winchesters. “I believe it’s me your looking for. Y/N L/N. Pleased to meet you.”

“Dean Winchester, this is my little brother Sam,” Dean said as he held out his hand and Sam did the same. “You, my dear, are amazing. Did you have any help with your cases?”

“Nope, I run on pure spite. It’s probably from the way I got into the business that makes me so ‘badass’ as you put it. And no, I don’t give up, and yes, you’re right, I do kinda like the job. I get a rush from it.”

Y/N and the Winchesters sat in the diner continuing to talk about their lives well into the night. When the diner was closing, Sam and Dean both invited Y/N to stay with them in Kansas, to which she gladly accepted the offer.

What kind of man are you?

Instead of kisses you give bruises

No more time for cheap excuses

If I were you, I would be leaving

Best you go while you’re still breathing

“Hey, Y/N,” Dean whispered as he waled into the room he shared with her. They had been together for almost two years, and it had been close to eight years since Y/N’s ex had first hit her. “You’ve seemed off for the past week. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine, Dean,” Y/N said and she turned her head away.

“No, it’s not. I know it’s not. I literally just asked that to see if you would lie to me, and you did.” Dean walked over and sat on the bed next to his girl. “Every year since you’ve started hunting with us, you always get upset around this time. I want to know why. Please, baby, just talk to me.”

Y/N sat in silence before she spoke. “Around eight years ago, a demon possessed my boyfriend and it made abuse me. Hitting, screaming, there was even one time it cut me. I spent a whole year with him, terrified that every day could be my last. I finally figured out it was a demon and I found an exorcism, but it just kept coming back. I killed it about a year before I met you and Sam. I was finally free of that monster.”

“What? What thing, human or otherwise, thinks it’s okay to hit a woman? Who the hell would have the audacity to do that? Whoever dares to touch you again better run. I don’t care who it is, they better leave before they lose their chance.”

“Dean, please. It’s okay. It’s done and over with. The demon’s dead, gone forever.”

“I don’t care. You’re too badass and kind and sweet to deserve anything like that. I swear, even though I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, I won’t let anyone touch you ever again.”

Last time, last time you’re ever gonna

Everywhere ya go, better watch your back

‘Cause I’m not your punchin’ bag

It was a group of demons terrorizing a small town in Vermont. Both Dean and Sam had somehow been captured, but Y/N was still going strong.

She had her fill with dealing with demons. To say she hated them with a burning passion would be an understatement.

All but one demon had been accounted for so far, but the coast was clear to untie the boys safely. It was nowhere in sight. Sam had left to go make sure there were no more hostages, and Dean stayed with Y/N.

“God, I love you so much,” Dean said as he pulled Y/N into a hug as soon as he was untied.

“I love you, too, Dean.”

The pair was working on cleaning up the mess that had been made when the final demon came out of it’s hiding place and snuck up on them.

It was able to get one punch on Y/N before she pulled out her angel blade and drove it into the demon’s throat, making it crumble to the floor and giving Dean and Y/N one more body to clean up.

“If I said it once, I’ve said it a million times: I’m not your punchin’ bag.”