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satsuma-saturn · 4 years

Text

Trying - Mammon x Reader

A/N: ok, so this is another song fic b/c i can’t help myself lmao. also, i decided to say ‘guardian’ instead of ‘parent(s),’ so you can insert whoever, like maybe a grandparent or a foster parent or whatever. you can even insert your parent(s), if you feel comfortable doing so. it was for the comfort of the reader, just like the gender neutrality of the reader character. the guardian is only mentioned like once, but i just wanted to point it out.

WC: 2520

Warning(s): Reader deals with depression/anxiety and has a meltdown (kind of panicky, but not to the extent of a panic attack), Mammon sees the reader nakey, but there’s nothing spicy

fic is below the cut

I’m not really sure if my words make sense to you, but I can’t really find any other way to form these feelings into cubes and sort them in my mind…

Breathe. Just breathe. An involuntary function that you shouldn’t find it so hard to do, yet you feel your chest tightening as you hyperventilate and sob in the bathtub. You feel as though you’re dying, tears streaming down your face, blurring your vision. The water in the bath chills you to your core, and you just want to hide under your covers in your bed, but you remain in the tub, unmoving.

A knock on the door pulls you out of your haze. You wipe your face as the knocking gets louder, sitting up. Your breathing slows, but your nerves are still shot. Someone wants your attention, but you don’t respond. Instead, you pull your knees to your chest, shivering as the icy water seeps into your bones, freezing them solid. The knocking refuses to stop. It only gets louder the longer you sit there, but your body, crafted of lead, remains still, and you stay in the tub.

The negative thoughts go on the left and the happy things on the right, and there’s a little corner saved just for you…

“Hey, Y/N! What the hell are ya doin’ in there? Masturbatin’? Ya been in there for like two hours and I’ve been waitin’ for ya!” Mammon. One of the more sympathetic brothers, yet despite that, you can’t bring yourself to tell him about your anguish, as you let out silent sobs in the bathtub. Hell, you can’t even bring yourself to speak. You’ll just leave him with that imagery instead. Eventually, he’ll get bored and leave you alone. It helps that he has the attention span of a dog on a walk, especially one that has just spotted a squirrel.

Please let me know if you change your mind, ‘cause inside I’m falling and I need you to pull me out of this decline…

Only, your assumption about him getting bored and leaving cannot possibly be more incorrect. He needs your attention and he needs it now, the clingy sonuvabitch, so good luck getting rid of him. “Ya can’t just ignore the Great Mammon like that! I’ll break down this damn door if ya don’t open it, ya stupid human!” The doorknob jiggles, as if he’s first trying to see if he can even open the door, except it’s locked, because who the fuck leaves the door unlocked when they’re bathing? It won’t open until you’re ready to leave, since you can’t see him actually breaking down the door, therefore, it will remain locked until you unlock it. His words are most likely an empty threat meant to scare you into opening the door for him. Except, you feel no fear as you listen to him, since Mammon and fear pair together as well as toothpaste and orange juice. In fact, if you weren’t in such a sorry state and having a meltdown, you probably would laugh at his futile attempts to enter your bathroom.

I realize how hard to you this must seem, but trust me when I say it’s far, far worse for me…

Instead of opening the door, you just close your eyes and lay back down in the tub, wiping away the tears that refuse to stop vacating your eyes. Not too long after, Mammon’s knocking on the door again. Only, it’s louder and harsher than knocking. Is he kicking the door? You never thought he would hold true to his threat, but it sounds like he’s trying to break down your door. That ass.

You jump as the door swings off its hinges, crashing into the wall. Now, not only is your door destroyed, but there is a gaping hole in the wall. How the hell are you even going to respond to this? Mammon broke your damn door and now he’s in your bathroom, where you’re crying and naked in a freezing bathtub. He’s never even seen you naked before and this is not how you imagined it would go. This is so fucking embarrassing.

Please, please be here for me, dear, ‘cause I’ve never needed a friend more and I can’t stress how much it means to me that you’re trying…

His blue eyes widen as they drink in the scene in front of them. “Why the hell are ya cryin’? Is it ‘cuz I broke yer door? I’ll jus’ take some cash from Levi to replace it. I’m sure he won’t mind.” The way he’s staring at you makes you want to sink lower into the tub or disappear completely. Not only that, but Levi would most definitely mind if Mammon ‘borrowed’ some money from him, considering how often the latter had done it in the past without paying him back. “Why didn’t ya respond when I was callin’ for ya?” He steps inside the bathroom to sit on the edge of the tub. If he couldn’t see your body from the doorway, he can definitely see it now. You suddenly feel extremely self-conscious as you lay in the tub, thinking of how to respond. Quietly, he watches your face, waiting for your reply.

And I don’t mind if you can’t hold me like you used to, ‘cause I’ve never hated myself more…

Your voice is hoarse. “I don’t know. I guess I thought you would get bored and leave if I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think you’d really break my door down.” The water splashes over the side of the tub, spilling onto the floor, as you sink lower into the tub. You close your eyes as you sink to your ears in the tub, tilting your head so that your face isn’t submerged. Mammon’s voice sounds akin to the buzzing of bees as he speaks to you once more. Why can’t he just leave? Isn’t it obvious you don’t want him there, in your bathroom, where you’re naked and crying? Why is he so damn nosy?

His hands are gripping your biceps, nails digging into your skin as he pulls you out of the icy water. You don’t bother opening your eyes to look at him, but you feel him wrap a towel around you, holding your shivering form against his chest. “The hell are ya doin’, Y/N? What’s goin’ on with ya? It’s gotta be more than just the door. Were ya in here crying in this fuckin’ freezin’ water before I got here?”

But this is just a bump in the road and I promise I’m trying…

Nodding your head, you swab your tongue on your lips before speaking. “Yeah.” That’s all you say in response as your teeth chatter uncontrollably. The water was hot when you first got into the tub, but you guess you were in there for so long that the temperature lowered a substantial amount. Still, you weren’t glad to be out of the tub now. Under the water, you didn’t have to answer his probing questions. Now that you’re out of the tub and in his lap, you have no choice but to answer the questions he throws your way. You don’t know how to explain it to him. Your thoughts and feelings, and how they’re sporadic, like a scribbling on a child’s drawing. The child’s drawing is of a dog, only it looks like it’s just a bunch of scribbles.

I promise I’m trying…

Not only that, but you’re naked and in his lap, a towel serving as the only thing separating the two of you. You start crying again, burying your face into the soft fluff of the towel, your shoulders shaking. Your eyes are closed, but you feel Mammon pull your head to his chest, seemingly indifferent to your sopping hair drenching his shirt. “Y’know, I always wondered why ya stupid humans gotta cry n’ be sad n’ stuff. Ya have such short lives and ya spend them cryin’ in bathtubs. I’ve been alive for I don’t even remember how long and I ain’t never once cried in a bathtub.” Mammon speak for why are you crying? I care about you and want to help you. He would never actually say that, though, since he likes to pretend that he doesn’t have feelings for you, even if it’s obvious to literally everyone, including yourself. Whatever, you’ll just let him live out that fantasy for as long as he pleases.

You wipe your face on the towel, peering up at him with glassy eyes. There’s a look of discomfort on his face, like he wants to help you, but doesn’t know what to do. “I’m crying because…” Why are you crying? Originally, you were kind of panicking, but it was something so small, and you weren’t sure that he would get it. “I was having a meltdown and just kinda sad in general. It just kind of happened while I was in the bath. I didn’t really expect anyone to come in here to check on me. Or y’know, break down my door.”

Give me a moment to get my cards in line, ‘cause I’m still trying to figure out in what kind of order I should set them out…

He chews on his lip, silent for a moment. You feel as if this is the most serious you’ve seen him. A frown spreads across his face after a few moments of silence. “Y’aint got nothin’ to cry or be sad about, human. ‘Course, if you were hangin’ out with Satan or Lucifer, I’d understand, since bein’ around them makes me wanna cry. ‘Specially Lucifer. Don’t tell him I said that, though. He’ll throw a hissy fit. Thinks he’s so cool, but he’s a damn stick in the mud.”

If there was a way to explain everything without a word, I’d have a full house right now, without a doubt…

Sniffling, you wipe your nose on the towel, pretending that you don’t leave behind a disgusting trail of snot as you do. Ignoring what Mammon’s remarks about Satan and Lucifer, you say, “can you take me to my room? I just want to lay down in my bed right now, if you don’t mind.” Your hands are shaking as you speak, and you attempt to get them under control, but the effort it takes drains you, like trying to scoop water out of the Titanic with a plastic pail.

I’m trying to tear the wool from your eyes, but part of me wants to let you be, ‘cause then you wouldn’t see what I’ve become…

A slow nod from the demon comes after a few seconds, as if he needed time to process your words. He hooks an arm under your knees and lifts you up, holding you as a groom would his bride, and carries you out of the bathroom. Stepping around the splintered pieces of door, he loses his balance, almost dropping you when he steadies himself. In response, you dig your nails into his arm, bracing yourself for smacking the ground. Mammon hisses in pain as you leave small, crescent-shaped indents in his flesh. Yet, he holds onto you, miraculously managing to not drop you on the floor.

I’m trying to shout, but no sound comes out…

Gently, as if afraid to break you, Mammon sets you down on your bed, towel and all. After that, the bed shifts as he too lays down, pulling you to his chest. For a few seconds, there’s nothing. Just him holding you against his chest, seemingly unwilling to let you go, not that you want him to. His breath is warm on your damp hair, as his fingers tangle in it, massaging your scalp with his fingertips.

As he massages your scalp with one hand, the other rubs slow circles on your back. You can fall asleep right then and there, with the silence and his soothing touches, but you want to lay awake with him. Despite being a demon and the Avatar of Greed, he is always kind to you, even if in his own way. His inability to admit his feelings may make him appear cold towards you to an outsider, but you know differently.

It’s like we’re in a dream state, but I should have woken up, woken up by now…

After a long, drawn out silence, he finally breaks it. You figure he would give into his impatience eventually. “Are ya feelin’ any better? I don’t know too much about humans, but I know a lot of ‘em like physical contact when they’re feeling down, at least in my professional experience.” Professional experience. The words almost bring you to laughter. You can’t picture him having really any personal, or ‘professional’ experience with humans, much less ones that struggle with mental health issues, such as anxiety or depression.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” you reply. Your head aches and your mood is still damper, but you know that Mammon is attempting to make you feel better, in the best way he can. The demon, always greedy for your attention, is probably thriving from all the attention he’s getting at the moment. Only the two of you are in your room, so he can be the sole recipient of your attention and you can tell he’s soaking it up.

“Good.”

Please, please be here for me, dear, ‘cause I’ve never needed a friend more and I can’t stress how much it means to me that you’re trying…

Even if Mammon often drove you to near insanity with his crazy ‘money-making’ schemes and pranks, you’re grateful for his presence. Warmth radiates from him, a welcome change from the icy water of the bathtub that you were in some time ago. His clothes are soaked from your towel, pressed against his body, but he doesn’t seem to mind. When you try to point it out to him, he ignores you, continuing to rub circles into your back.

And I don’t mind if you can’t hold me like you used to, ‘cause I’ve never hated myself more…

Having your back rubbed relaxes you, and you find yourself almost drifting off to sleep a few times. You’re reminded of when you were a small child and your guardian would rub your back to get you to sleep, especially when you had trouble sleeping. In order to keep awake, you lightly pinch your skin, leaving behind faint pink marks. Normally, you’d go to sleep no problem, but you feel an obligation to stay awake with Mammon, especially after all that he’d done for you in the past hour or so.

But this is just a bump in the road and I promise I’m trying…

Your eyelashes, like butterflies, flutter as you fight to keep them open. The hand in your hair stops its movements, just gently resting on your occipital bone. You continue to fight sleep, but eventually, you give in, feeling it wash over your body. When you eventually wake up, you’re still wrapped in your towel, with Mammon asleep by your side.

I promise I’m trying...

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moonprincemulti · 4 years

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Hello! Could I make another request? A scenario where Jeonghan's boyfriend decides to make a prank on him. The reader puts toothpaste on Jeonghan's face while he sleeps.

∘₊✧─ Double Prank ─✧₊∘

- 2 Sep 2020

- when I saw you asking for toothpaste I immediately thought of toothpaste oreos so 👀

- jeonghan's beautiful face being covered in toothpaste is definitely something I wanna see irl tho 🤔

- male reader x idol jeonghan

Y/n was in a playful mood today, and he had been keeping it in for hours. He knew Jeonghan was tired from a full day of practice, but y/n just couldn't stop himself. He leaned back in the chair as he watched his boyfriend sleep on the couch, totally exhausted from his hard work.

Y/n closed his eyes, trying to think of a prank he could pull on Jeonghan. Waking him up with a loud noise? Placing things on top of him until he woke up? Y/n sighed and shook his head. No, there had to be something better. Something that would be unnoticable at first glance.

As y/n thought of a prank, he made sure Jeonghan was still deeply asleep by softly waving over his face every once in a while. Suddenly a prank shot into his head as he let his eyes glide over Jeonghan's beautiful face. Y/n smirked, his mind thinking about the scenes where Jigglypuff would doodle all over Ash's face in the Pokémon series.

But scribbling with a marker on Jeonghan's flawless skin would also mean some kind of damage, and if the idol had to appear on screen again.. The makeup might not conceal everything that y/n would draw. Y/n sighed deeply, as he thought his plan would fail. He got up and walked to the bathroom, as there might be another sort of substance he could spread all over Jeonghan's face, that wasn't damaging to his skin or appearance for the long run.

━━━━━━━━ ✤ ━━━━━━━━

Y/n tried to keep himself from giggling or making sound as he quietly sat down next to Jeonghan. He looked at the tube of toothpaste in his hand, as it had become his chosen prank object. Y/n twisted off the cap, putting it aside. He looked at Jeonghan's innocent face, checking if he was still asleep.

When the coast was clear, y/n put some toothpaste on his fingers, softly spreading it over his boyfriend's face. His fingers glided over Jeonghan's smooth skin, his soft touch making Jeonghan slightly lean into it. Y/n stayed quiet as he covered the whole surface, smiling when he was done. He got up and silently walked to the bathroom again, to get rid of any evidence.

Y/n came back to the livingroom, glancing at the kitchen. He snickered softly as he saw the plate of oreos he had messed with before. Jeonghan wouldn't be pranked just once, he would be pranked twice. Y/n sat back down in his chair, grabbing his phone from his pocket to kill some time until Jeonghan woke up.

━━━━━━━━ ✤ ━━━━━━━━

Jeonghan woke up as the toothpaste began drying, making it itch a bit on his skin. He groaned softly, furrowing his eyebrows as he slowly came back to reality. Jeonghan sat up, reaching out to touch his face, but squealed as he felt the weird texture on his face. He jumped off the couch, running to the bathroom to look in the mirror.

Y/n had seen Jeonghan wake up and he tried his best not to burst out in laughter. He couldn't help himself as he heard Jeonghan's gasp and whine coming from the bathroom. Jeonghan walked out, looking at his boyfriend, who was almost rolling on the floor from laughing so hard. Jeonghan pouted, being disappointed in the childish behaviour. "Y/n! Really? Putting toothpaste on my face?"

"Oh come on! You look so funny!" Y/n laughed and look at Jeonghan with happy tears in his eyes. Jeonghan crossed his arms and looked away. "I don't like it." Jeonghan walked back in the bathroom, washing the dried up toothpaste up. Y/n tried to regain his posture in the meantime, wiping his eyes to get rid of his tears.

━━━━━━━━ ✤ ━━━━━━━━

Jeonghan came back to the livingroom after a while, looking at y/n with a pout. "You'll have to make up for what you did." Jeonghan sat down on the couch, clearly upset about the prank. Y/n smiled and got up, placing a kiss on Jeonghan's head. "Don't worry. I'll get you a snack." Jeonghan nodded slightly, staying quiet. Y/n chuckled and walked to the kitchen to get his plate of 'oreos'.

Y/n came back with the plate, sitting down next to Jeonghan. He held the plate in front of his boyfriend. "Here you go. Oreos for my pouty baby." Jeonghan glanced at y/n before taking an oreo off the plate. Y/n smiled and stroked over Jeonghan's back, a mischievous smile slowly appearing on his face.

Jeonghan bit into the cookie, and he immediately noticed something was off. He chewed on the bite a few times, and as the taste came through, Jeonghan hit y/n. "Y/N! WHY?!" Jeonghan pushed the plate away, swallowing his bite with disgust. He looked at his boyfriend, very clearly upset. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Y/n just laughed once again, happy his pranks were succesfull. Jeonghan got up and walked off, and y/n heard the bedroom door slam. Y/n put the plate on the coffee table, laughing for a minute longer. As he calmed down, he noticed Jeonghan hadn't come back out yet. He got up, walking to bedroom, knocking on the door. "Babe?"

"Go away! I'm not in the mood for your stupid childish pranks! I worked my ass off today and I was hoping for a nice romantic evening but you ruined that plan!" Y/n sighed and leaned against the doorpost, never having meant to piss off his boyfriend like this. "Jeonghan.. can you forgive me? I was playful and you're the only one around.."

Y/n heard the door Jeonghan walk through the room, and as he heard a zipper he panicked slightly. "Babe?" "You better learn from this!" Y/n almost fell on top of Jeonghan as the door got opened all of a sudden. Jeonghan had packed a bag, ready to go to his friends to spend the night there. "No, please don't leave. I- I really didn't mean to anger you.." "Well you did. And I'm going."

Jeonghan wanted to walk past y/n, but the taller male easily held him back. Y/n pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly. "You're going nowhere. I apologize. Deeply. I won't ever do this again, okay? I'll prank others." Jeonghan huffed and stayed silent once more. Y/n stroked over Jeonghan's back, hoping to convince him to stay.

"You know what? We'll order some food, crash on the couch, watch a movie or two and end the evening with a glass of wine before bed. Does that sound romantic enough?" Y/n smiled, kissing Jeonghan's head. "Barely." Jeonghan mumbled into y/n's shoulder. "You better keep that promise or else you'll be sleeping on the couch for the next few months."

Y/n nodded eagerly and let go of Jeonghan, cupping his face quickly. "I promise. Now go put that bag back and put that cute smile on your face again. You can decide what we eat and watch, okay?" Jeonghan smiled slightly and nodded. "Okay." Y/n sighed slightly of relief. "Good. I love you baby." "I love you too."

#requests #kpop #seventeen #svt #jeonghan #yoonjeonghan #jeonghanxreader #svtxreader #kpopxmalereader #lgbtqlove #prank #svtxmalereader #xmalereader

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lewishamil10n · 4 years

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nope nope nope I hate myself for thinking it but..fuck ok..I love your baby sam fics but..how about the spell wearing off and sam coming back? ..I DONT WANT BABY SAM TO LEAVE BUT I HAVE TO KNOW

hi anon!!! lucky for you, i’ve had this fic in mind since i began writing bb!sam, and now i finally get to write it :D

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

Castiel finally calls back when Dean’s brushing his teeth. “Dee, phone!” Sammy calls out a second after it begins ringing.

“Coming!” Dean calls back around a mouthful of toothpaste, and then spits it out and rinses his mouth. He steps out of the bathroom to find Sam sitting on one of the chairs next to the small table, chubby little legs swinging back and forth as he scribbles on a notepad. The phone is next to him on the table, and Dean picks it up at once when he sees caller ID.

“Cas! About time, man--”

“Dean, you’re in trouble,” Castiel interrupts, sounding graver than he usually does.

Immediately Dean is on red alert. “What’s going on?”

“Demons have caught wind of Sam’s... predicament,” Castiel informs him. “They will be moving towards you soon.”

“Can you come?” Dean demands, already making his way towards the door and windows to check the salt lines.

“Not for a while,” Castiel answers. “A few angels and I are going to try to stop the demons before they can reach you. Do not leave.”

“Cas--” Dean begins, but the angel has already hung up.

“What’s going on?” Sam asks, looking up with interest as Dean rushes around the room, double-checking the salt lines and the devil’s trap under the rug.

Satisfied that they’re all intact, Dean strides over to Sam and kneels down next to him. “Sammy,” he says, and his serious tone has Sam looking down at him with a frown. “Listen to me very carefully, kiddo.” He reaches out and takes both of Sam’s little hands in his own. “You know how sometimes in movies the bad guy sends his, you know, his minions, and they try to hurt the good guys?”

Sam nods.

“Well, something like that might happen now. So I need you to be careful, okay? You know how Robin always listens to Batman and helps him out?”

Sam nods again, frown deepening.

“I’m gonna need you to be Robin. But you haveta listen to what I say, all right? I gotta keep you safe, kiddo.”

“Dee, what’s happening?” Sam asks again, now beginning to look a little frightened. “Is someone tryin’ ta hurt us?”

Dean gets to his feet and puts his arms around his little brother, pulling him into his chest as he stands. “It’s nothing,” he lies to Sam, placing a hand on Sam’s back. “We’ll be fine, as long as you listen to me, all right?”

“You’re scarin’ me,” Sam tells him, the corners of his mouth turning down. He wraps his limbs around Dean’s neck and waist and hangs on, looking confused and apprehensive.

“‘S nothin’ to be scared of,” Dean tells him, trying to grin at him. “You got your big brother with you, kiddo, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Sam considers this for a second. “’Cause you’re Batman,” he says in the end.

“Damn right, kid,” Dean says, ruffling Sam’s hair with his free hand. “Come on, now.” He takes him to the bathroom and sets him down in the bathtub. “Look, you may hear some loud noises, all right? And it might make you scared. But I need you to stay here and not move, okay, Sammy? No matter what you hear. Don’t move till I come get you. Got it?”

“Yeah,” Sam says, watching as Dean puts down the toilet lid and sits on it. “Dee, what if you get hurt?”

“C’mon, Batman doesn’t get hurt!” Dean reminds Sam with false bravado. His gut is churning and he feels nauseated at the very thought of what could happen, but he tries not to let it show as he smiles down at his kid brother. “I’ll be fine, Sammy. We’re both gonna be all right.”

Sam nods. “Okay,” he says in the end. “Promise?”

“Swear,” Dean tells him. “Now -- do you remember what I just told you?”

“To stay here and not move till you come get me,” Sam recites dutifully.

“Good man,” Dean says, ruffling his hair again. “Hey -- you want your bear? He can keep you company till I’m back.”

Sam nods again, so Dean stands to go get it. The bear is facedown on the bed where Sam had left it, a tattered, faded old thing that Dean had found deep in the trunk of the Impala, a keepsake from Sam’s first childhood. He hands it to his brother, who accepts it gratefully and immediately cradles it to his chest.

“Thanks, Dee.”

“No problem, kiddo.” On a whim, Dean leans in and kisses Sam’s forehead. “Okay, I’m gonna go out now, all right? Be safe, Sammy.” He waits for Sam’s affirmative nod, the kid’s eyes wide and scared, and then draws the shower curtain closed.

There is silence as he goes back into the room, and Dean quietly loads his gun and sits down on the foot of the bed, Ruby’s knife in his other hand. The bathroom door is shut but not locked, and Dean can’t help but glance at it every now and then. Sam, true to his word, is quiet, but that doesn’t stop Dean from worrying about his little brother.

He sits there for around ten minutes, growing more and more restless with each passing second, until the phone rings again. The loud sound in the silence of the room startles Dean, and he almost fires the gun in his hurry to grab the phone. “Hey,” he barks into it when he picks up, pressing it in between his ear and shoulder so he can keep his hands free.

“Dean?” comes Castiel’s gravelly voice.

“Yeah. What’s the update?”

“It’s under control,” Cas answers.

“You got the demons?”

“Yes.”

“Sammy’s safe?”

“Yes.”

The tension melts out of Dean in a rush of dizzying intensity, and he puts the knife down so he can hold the phone to his ear properly. “You for real, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean. But I would still advise being on your guard.”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course. Thanks, Cas.”

“You are welcome,” Castiel answers a second later, a little awkwardly. He’s still getting the hang on human behaviors, it seems.

Dean grins at the phone as he hangs up, so relieved he thinks he might actually laugh out loud from it. “Sammy!” he calls out. “It’s safe now, kiddo, you can come out!”

There’s no answer from the bathroom.

“Sammy?”

Nothing, except for a loud bang, and then a crash as if something’s just fallen.

Frowning, the tension back, Dean gets to his feet. The room remains totally silent as he draws closer to the bathroom door, gun at the ready just in case. He’s not sure what he’s expecting, but apprehension is making his guts roil again, heartbeat loud in his ears.

“Sam?”

He pushes the door open, gun at the ready. There is no sound or movement as Dean approaches the shower curtain.

“C’mon, kid, you’re freakin’ me out.”

He’s just reached out to pull the curtain back when it moves by itself, the rings clattering along the rod as its pushed aside. Dean opens his mouth to speak, but whatever he was about to say dies on his lips as he realizes that little Sammy’s no longer there.

In his place, confused and naked as the day he was born, is adult-sized Sam, curled against the far side of the tub with his arms wrapped around himself.

“Sam?” Dean says, hardly able to believe it. “Sam, that really you?”

Sam blinks, and squints up at him for a second before nodding wordlessly. Just in case, though, Dean grabs a handful of salt from the bathroom windowsill and flicks it at Sam.

His brother blinks, but before he can protest Dean douses him in holy water from his hip flask. That finally moves him to talk; moving his wet hair out of his face, he says, “Dude, what--”

“Just checkin’, man,” Dean says, satisfied. “Looks like the curse wore off, huh.”

“I guess,” Sam says, wiping at his face with one hand. “Mind bringing me my clothes?”

“Wha-- oh, yeah, sure,” says Dean, heading back into the room. He puts his gun down on the bedside stand and grabs the first few things he finds in Sam’s duffel, trying to ignore the weird feeling in his belly at the sight of seeing his brother as an adult again.

He gives Sam privacy to dress in the bathroom, and instead waits for him at the foot of his bed, tapping his feet against the floor. Everywhere he looks around the room he sees signs of the kid brother he’d had just a few minutes ago -- tiny shoes in the corner, a small hoodie slung over the back of a chair, the half-complete drawing on the table.

But there are also signs of adult Sam -- his laptop, his duffel, one of his flannels draped over the back of the other chair. And it makes Dean’s heart ache, because he’d missed Sam fiercely. He’d missed the adult version of his brother, and now that he has him back, it’s weird to think that he’s going to miss little Sam too.

The bathroom door opens and Sam emerges, dressed and holding his old bear awkwardly in one hand. “Um, I found this with me,” he tells Dean, putting the bear down on the nearest bed. “And these.” He’s got the clothes he’d been wearing, neatly folded.

“Yeah, uh, we’ll give those away later,” Dean says, getting to his feet and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Won’t really need ‘em now, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Sam says shortly, putting them down next to the bear.

“Do you remember anything?” Dean asks. “From the past couple days?”

“Vaguely,” Sam tells him, sitting down in one of the chairs. Dean sits back down on the foot of the bed, not failing to notice how Sam’s quietly put physical distance between the two of them.

“Right,” says Dean. He can’t figure out why Sam’s answer has him feeling disappointed. Maybe he’d thought that if Sam remembered how close and affectionate they’d been, it would make some sort of difference in their relationship now as adults. But it seems that everything is still exactly the same -- distance, stilted conversations, Sam not looking him in the eye.

You’d wanted to fix this, Dean reminds himself. So fix it.

He stands and goes over to sit in the other chair, across the small motel table from Sam. “Hey, man, listen,” he says, and waits for Sam to look up before continuing, “how’re you feeling?”

“Um, fine, I guess,” Sam answers, looking up at him. “I don’t feel weird or anything. You killed the witch, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean answers.

“So it’ll be fine,” Sam says, and then goes back to fidgeting.

“You hungry or anything?” Dean asks after a few seconds of near-unbearable silence.

Sam shakes his head. “Not really. I just mostly feel tired, actually.”

“Should be fine after a good night’s rest,” Dean says. “We can check out tomorrow.”

“Okay,” says Sam. His eyes fall on the half-complete drawing his younger self had made not an hour earlier, and he freezes up. “Um -- did I do that?”

Dean glances down at the stick figure versions of himself, Sam, and John. “Um, yeah. Like, an hour ago.”

Sam blinks. “Oh.” He reaches out hesitantly and pulls the drawing towards himself, examining it with more attention than he’s ever given a lore text. “Dad’s in here too,” he murmurs, more to himself than Dean, but Dean responds anyway.

“Yeah. You asked about him a lot.”

Sam looks up again. “Yeah? What’d you say?”

“Said he was away and on his way back,” Dean answers. “Don’t think you bought it though, honestly.”

Sam snorts a little at that. “Yeah, sounds about right,” he mutters, ducking his head. His hair falls into his face, shielding his eyes, and suddenly Dean is hit with relief all over again. He hadn’t realized it before, but a part of him that he hadn’t paid attention to had been convinced that he was never going to get his Sam back. And now he’s here, in front of him, with his stupidly long hair and his puppy eyes, and Dean is half-afraid that if he looks away, Sam will disappear again.

“Sammy?” he says, barely managing to speak past the sudden lump in his throat.

“Yeah?” Sam looks up, tucking his hair behind his ears.

“I missed you, man,” Dean admits. Sam’s face goes a little slack, eyes widening in surprise, and Dean continues, “I mean, little you was fun. Adorable as all hell. But I missed you.”

Sam opens his mouth, and then closes it again, seemingly at a loss for words.

“And I’m glad you’re back,” Dean tells him, standing. He goes round the table, aware of Sam’s eyes following him, and then leans down to frame Sam’s face with his hands. Sam doesn’t move, eyes wide as he looks up at Dean in confusion.

“Dean?” he says uncertainly when Dean doesn’t move for a few seconds.

In response, Dean bends his head and kisses Sam’s forehead. He feels Sam freeze against him, but he doesn’t move away, instead closing his eyes and keeping his lips pressed to Sam’s forehead for just a few seconds longer than absolutely necessary.

“Dean?” Sam says again when Dean finally moves away, wiping discreetly at his eyes.

“Yeah?” Dean smiles.

“Are you, um, are you all right?” Sam asks. He hasn’t moved from his place, and he’s still wearing that expression of uncertainty, except now there’s a little bit of hope there, and caution, like he’s afraid of hoping too much. It breaks Dean’s heart; a little bit of affection shouldn’t be so out of place for Sam that it makes him worry.

“I’m fine, Sammy,” he reassures him, running his hands through Sam’s hair one last time before finally letting them fall to his sides. “More’n fine, in fact. I’m great.”

“You sure?” Sam asks, not looking convinced.

Dean rolls his eyes, a fond gesture. “Sammy, c’mere, man,” he says, and steps back to give Sam room to stand. The moment his little brother is on his feet Dean wraps both arms around him, pulling him in close and gripping the back of his head.

Sam remains still for a few seconds, but eventually melts into the embrace, his arms coming up to wrap around Dean. He hunches, trying to make himself as small as possible, and drops his chin on Dean’s shoulder, the side of face pressed into Dean’s neck. A second later, Dean feels wetness on the shoulder of his shirt, and his heart squeezes.

“I’m sorry, man,” he whispers, tightening the hug. “For the way things have been between us lately. And I know I haven’t helped. I’m gonna be better, Sammy. We gotta be better. You’re all I’ve got, man. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I’m sorry too,” Sam says thickly after a few moments. “I should’ve been better, I should’ve tried harder to be good--”

“Hey, stop that,” Dean chides gently. “We gotta stop lookin’ back, Sammy. What’s done is done. From now on we just gotta keep lookin’ ahead, and have each other’s backs. Like we always do, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sam says after a pause, and then presses his face into Dean’s neck, wet nose and all. “You and me against the world, right?”

“Damn right,” Dean tells Sam, grinning. He holds the embrace for some more time, letting Sam have as long as he needs, and then they step back at the same moment, both of them pretending they weren’t just crying.

“So, um,” Sam begins, and then gives Dean a watery sort of smile. “I’m exhausted, man.”

“Not surprised, honestly,” Dean tells him, wiping at his own eyes before reaching out to get rid of the last of Sam’s tears. “C’mon, man, let’s get some shut-eye, and then we get the hell outta here tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sam says, and gives Dean a half-hug when he passes by him on his way to the bed. Dean follows, kicking his boots off and stripping down to his t-shirt and boxers before getting into his bed. It’ll be a bit weird, sleeping on his own without a tiny child burrowing into his side, but instead of that he’ll have Sam’s deep breathing just a few feet away, and that kinda makes up for it.

“Breakfast on me tomorrow,” Dean tells Sam as he pulls the covers over himself.

Sam laughs, doing the same in his own bed. “Yeah, definitely,” he says.

“And look, man, if you still wanna sleep with the bear, I’m not gonna judge,” Dean tells him.

That gets him an eye-roll. “Shut up, Dean,” Sam says fondly, and then turns off the lamp. “’Night, Dean.”

“‘Night, Sammy,” Dean answers, smiling to himself in the dark as he settles on his side, facing Sam’s bed. Yeah, he’s going to miss little Sam -- but there’s no denying that his Sam, the right version of him, feels like home.

They’ve got an Apocalypse to end, a world to save, and angels and demons to fend off. And it should feel like a burden -- it does, most days. But they’ve got each other too, and there have been missteps and pitfalls along the way, but they’re all right. They’re always going to come back to each other in the end, because this is where they belong, at each other’s sides.

There is nowhere else that Dean would rather be, and he knows that the same holds true for Sam, too.

They still keep the bear. And Dean keeps the drawing too, folded into his wallet. And if the tiny clothes remain folded in the trunk instead of being donated -- well, neither of them ever say a word about it.

#sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural #samdean #deaged sam #my writing #hope you enjoyed it anon!#Anonymous

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kittysukagasterfics · 4 years

Text

Marker Mischief

Note: Some Sam and brothers fluff! Those three are always up to something. Anyway, onto the fic!

Handplates belongs to: @zarla-s

Requested by: @mehlillv

Summary: Feeling bored in the Lab one day, Sam and the brothers decide to doodle on a sleeping Gaster’s face. However, the three soon realize that it was permanent marker! Will they be able to wash it off before he awakens?

“bro, i’m boored...”

“OH BROTHER! YOU’RE SO LAZY!”

“you’re bored too!”

2-P and 1-S were sitting on the floor in the common room and messing around with the color cube. However, it didn’t really feel fun at the moment. Subject 1 tried taking a nap but Subject 2 kept pestering him to play, preventing him from doing so. Now both of them were bored.

Suddenly, 1-S got an idea. He suggested to 2-P that the two of them should get Sam to play with them. At first, the taller skeleton was a bit reluctant to bother his and his brother’s sort of parent. He only agreed after some convincing. The two babybones made their way to the testing room where the Human and Toby were. The little dog wagged his tail at the sight of the duo. Sam was too engrossed in their book to notice them.

The little skeletons walked up to them and tugged on their shirt to get their attention. They started complaining as soon as Sam looked down at them.

“HUMAN SAM, WE’RE BORED!”

“entertain us!”

Sam playfully rolled their eyes as they closed the book they were reading. In all honesty, they were pretty bored themselves. Nothing noteworthy had happened since Gaster was working at the moment. They and Toby were trying to keep busy but to no avail. Seems like boredness was infecting the brothers as well.

“*You ask the brothers if they have any fun ideas to do then.”

“umm, can we go see what he’s up to?”

“YEAH! LIKE AN ADVENTURE!”

The Human wanted to say ‘no’ at first since they knew Gaster didn’t like having his work interrupted. But from experience, Sam also knew that the scientist would probably be passed out by now. After some thought, Sam finally agreed and had the three of them follow them out of the room.

Entering the hallway, Sam motioned for the brothers and Toby to keep quiet as they all walked towards the office. Subjects 1 and 2 tried to quiet their giggling but couldn’t help themselve. When they reached the office, the Human slowly opened it and peeked inside. Just as suspected, Gaster was not at his desk, but fast asleep and laying down on the couch. Sam could hear the skeleton letting out soft snores.

Giggling quietly, Sam pushed the door all the way opened to let the brothers and Toby in. The tiny skeletons immediately went over to Gaster to curiously observe him. Sam and Toby went on to snoop through the skeleton’s desk. The little pup seemed more interested in his laptop though. The Human booted up it before looking at Toby who was sitting patiently in their lap.

“*You ask Toby what he wants to do.” ‘*He’s somehow able to tell you that he wants to watch anime...’

Luckily it seemed like Gaster had a couple of anime shows on his laptop. Probably Alphys’ doing from the types of anime that were on there. Stuff like Mew Mew: Kissy Cutie and its sequel. No offense to Alphys but Sam honestly preferred the sequel to the first one. They’ve never met Alphys, but Sam was fairly certain the lizard girl would yell at them if she knew.

A few minutes into the anime, Sam looked over at the brothers to see what they were up to. That’s when they noticed that the tiny skeletons were doing...something to Gaster. They paused the video and they and Toby walked over to the duo. From the looks of it, the boys seemed to be drawing.

“*You ask the brothers what they’re doing.” ‘*They jump a little when you start talking...’

“U-UM, WE WERE JUST...UH...”

“...um, nothing?”

Sam then realized that Gaster had black scribbles all over his face. 1-S and 2-P also had a black marker in their hands. They gave the two a bit of a disappointed look.

“*You tell the brothers that they shouldn’t draw on people’s faces when they sleep...”

Subject 2 now had a guilty look on his face but his brother’s expression was what can only be described as mischievous. He took another marker off a nearby table and held it out towards Sam, who gave him a confused look. The tiny skeleton then began taunting them, saying that they wanted to doodle on the scientist too, Sam just didn’t want to admit it. As much as they still wanted to say no, the Human couldn’t resist the temptation, taking the black marker from 1-S and started drawing on their lover’s face. Soon the brothers joined in as well while Toby watched with an amused face.

(Later...)

“*You tell the brothers that you think you and them have drawn all that can fit...”

Sam smiled at their and the brothers’ hard work. Gaster’s face was literally covered in tiny black doodles and messages. While Subjects 1 and 2 mostly drew on him, Sam wrote a couple of cute messages such as ‘xoxo’ and ‘luv you 4ever’. And as much as they wanted to keep them on there, Gaster probably won’t be too happy with all of them when he wakes up.

‘*You try to wipe off the marker with finger...it doesn’t even smudge...?’

Confused, Sam tried licking their finger and scrubbing the marks off. A little gross but it seemed like there was no other choice. However, it still wasn’t coming off. Sam slowly turned to the brothers who were standing beside them. They asked 2-P to hand them the black marker that was used.

“OH! HERE YOU GO, HUMAN SAM! ARE YOU GOING TO DRAW SOMETHING ELSE?”

‘*You don’t answer him as you read the marker’s label. It reads: NO SMUDGE PERMANENT MARKER...!’

A cold chill ran down Sam’s back as they dropped the marker in shock. Permanent marker!? How on earth will they be able to get that off!? The brothers weren’t even at fault here, it was their own fault for not reading the label!

As Sam started to panic, 1-S picked up up the fallen marker and read it. He couldn’t tell what some of the words meant but the word ‘permanent’ sure rang a bell. The tiny skeleton then explained to a confused 2-P that their little scribbles and messages might not be coming off so easily. Then, 1-S tugged on the frantic Human’s shirt to get their attention.

“sam, maybe you can find a way to get our drawings off his face?”

The Human looked up from their panicked state. Subject 1 was right. They could use Gaster’s computer to look up ways to remove permanent marker. It was the perfect plan! Sam thanked the little skeleton and immediately went back over to the laptop. They exited out of the video player and went on the Undernet. They typed in ‘ways to remove permanent marker’ into the search bar. Going to a random site, Sam picked out three methods that would hopefully work.

“*You tell the brothers that you’ll have to hurry before Gaster wakes up.” ‘*They nod in understanding...’

(METHOD #1)

“why are we in the kitchen, sam?”

“WHAT ARE YOU MAKING, HUMAN SAM?”

Sam didn’t reply as they mixed in more toothpaste to the concoction they were currently making. Apparently if one were to mix toothpaste and baking together, one part for each, it would hopefully remove the permanent marker easily. It was the perfect plan! All Sam had to was apply the substance to the scientist’s skull, wait for it to settle in, and then scrub off the marker with a damp, soft cloth. Gaster would know about what had happened and Sam and the brothers would get away with their shenanigans. So when the Human finished mixing everything together, they and the brothers walked back to office where Gaster was thankfully still asleep.

‘*You gently apply the substance and wait...’

After a couple of minutes, Sam grabbed the damp cloth they had brought with them. They scrubbed and scrubbed but somehow, it wasn’t working. Sam tried again by adding more of the concoction and letting it sit for a few more minutes than before. Still the doodles stayed intact. Finally, a very exasperated Sam just gave up on the idea and went back to looking up methods.

“why didn’ that thing’s idea work, sam?”

“*You tell 1-S that the internet can lie to people sometimes...”

(METHOD #2)

Sam pushed stuff around in their dimensional box. The brothers tried asking them what they were looking for, but the Human didn’t even respond. After some time searching, Sam finally found the bottle of sunscreen that they needed. Somehow, for whatever reason, sunscreen can be used to remove permanent marker. All someone needed was a clean cloth to wipe it off with. It’s was a bit weird but Sam was willing to do anything at this point.

‘*You squeeze some sunscreen onto Gaster’s skull and use the cloth to wipe it.’ ‘*It still won’t come off?!’

In desperation, Sam furiously rubbed cloth, almost causing the skeleton to wake up. Seems like this method wasn’t going to work either. They gave up the futile attempt after a few more scrubs. Sam was just about to give up when they suddenly got one more idea they could try. Probably not the best idea, but it was an idea.

(METHOD #3: FINAL METHOD)

“UM, HUMAN SAM? ARE YOU SURE THIS IS GOING TO WORK?”

“*You tell 2-P that third time’s a charm.”

The Human’s last brilliant idea was to just grab some white paint and use that to cover up the marker. It was a glossy white as well so hopefully this plan goes as intended. Again, Sam knew it wasn’t the best plan but they honestly didn’t have much time since Gaster could wake up to start working any second.

Sam finally finished the paint job and stood back to admire their work. It was a bit sloppy but it’ll have to do for now.

‘*Exhaustion suddenly hits you and you lay down on the opposite side of the couch.’ ‘*The brothers and Toby snuggle up against you just as you fall asleep...’

(Later)

Gaster blinked awake as he slowly eased himself up and off of the couch. Stretching his bony arms, the scientist saw that Sam, the brothers, and Toby were fast asleep. He didn’t know what they came into his office but they all seemed pretty tired so Gaster decided to just let them be. Gaster was about to get back to work when he suddenly noticed that Sam’s hands were covered in white paint.

“How on earth did they...?”

The skeleton chose not to question it anymore than that, thinking that the Human was painting earlier. At least, that was his thought process until he booted up his laptop to begin working. Sam must’ve forgotten to close out of everything since the webpage with all the methods was still there. Gaster was beyond confused.

“Why is this on my-Wait.”

Gaster finally put the pieces together. He got up from his desk and made his way to the bathroom. Upon entering, Gaster turned on the faucet and started washing his skull with the water. When he looked back up, the scientist saw in the mirror many drawings decorating his skull, no doubt all in permanent marker.

Safe to say, Gaster was feeling a lot of things. Shocked, upset, baffled, embarrassed, but most of all, he was feeling mad. So mad in fact that he immediately grabbed a stray marker off the table and walked over a still sleeping Sam.

“Just know that you deserved this, Sam...”

~~~~~~

“*You ask Gaster why the brothers are so giggly now.”

“It’s a mystery to me, Sam. They’re always giggling about nothing.”

Gaster could barely keep from smiling as his clueless lover, who’s face was now covered in marker, walked away. They’re probably find out sooner or later but until then, the scientist will just enjoy his revenge in silence.

Hopefully this will teach Sam not to pull anymore pranks...

Note: Sam’s probably not going to figure it out on their own. Thank you everyone so much for reading! I hope you all enjoyed! I love all of you! Stay tuned for more.

#handplates #undertale #gaster #the human #sam (the human)#sans #papyrus #toby #my fic #ukagaster

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likeshipsonthesea · 5 years

Text

a morning, unrushed

sooo it’s a lil after midnight but i’m still counting this as nurseydex week day two prompt Asking for Help/Running Late. i wrote something like 24 hours ago but didn’t end up liking it, came up with this idea an hour ago, spent most of that hour on the poem below the cut, and then wrote this. enjoy?

“Hey, Dex?”

Dex pokes his head out from the bathroom, toothpaste foaming at the mouth. “What?” he asks, awkward.

“Can I run some lines off you?”

Dex pulls the toothbrush from his mouth. “Poetry or prose?” he asks, but in order to keep the liquid in his mouth from overflowing it sounds more like “Poehy or pose?” Nursey’s gotten good at decoding, though.

“Poetry.”

Dex sticks the toothbrush back in his mouth and raises an eyebrow. “You can try,” he says, and ducks back into the bathroom.

Nursey clears his throat. “How’s, I sleep in a sea of rumpled bedsheets, for a first line?”

Dex gargles vaguely, which Nursey marks down as approval.

“How about, I imagine I can feel the rootlessness. The desire of a dead thing to find home in the ground.”

“I like the first part,” Dex says, as he spits into the sink. “You sure you don’t want me to just read it myself? I can be a little late to work.”

“No! No, it’s fine. Just a few more.” Nursey marks down Dex’s comment and looks back to the poem. He scans it for a line that doesn’t have the word you in it. “Uh. Oh.” He raises his voice, as Dex turns on the faucet. “Imagine myself adrift on a raft crafted from shaking hands, bound by forgotten string.”

“Forgotten what?”

“String.”

“Oh.” Dex walks out of the bathroom, wiping at his mouth with a towel. He is, both fortunately and unfortunately, not wearing a shirt. Nursey curls his fingers tighter around his notebook. “Kind of goes over my head but I like the idea of it.”

“Cool.” Nursey scribbles a note in the margin of the page, ignoring the way his heartbeat picks up as Dex pads over to the couch.

“What’s this one about?” he asks, flicking the top of the notebook. Nursey pulls it defensively to his chest and Dex just grins. “You seem a bit touchy.”

“You’re a bit touchy,” Nursey says and Dex smiles instead of scowling. He’s always more smiles than scowls in the mornings, something Nursey didn’t realize when they were at Samwell. Dex is the perfect mix of morning person and not. All the sleep-muddled softness and none of the grumpiness.

And Nursey gets it all, now that they share an apartment.

“You sure you’re not gonna be late for anything important?” Nursey watches Dex’s eyes flit to the clock on the stove. A small furrow appears between his eyebrows and then smooths itself out, like getting a wrinkle out of a bedsheet. “I can stay,” he says, turning back to Nursey, “for a little while longer.”

Nursey smothers his smile ineffectually. “Well, the least you could do is make me some breakfast if you’re gonna laze around all morning.”

Dex huffs, laughing, and pats the side of Nursey’s outstretched leg. “Alright,” he says, standing up, “but you’re doing the eggs. I don’t want to hear any complaining.”

Nursey puts down his notebook and follows Dex to a standing position. “Dexington, dear, your eggs are stupidly salty, it’s just a fact.”

“Shut up.”

The laugh in Nursey’s chest trips itself up on the way out, surprised at its own happiness. Nursey coughs, trying to pretend it didn’t happen, and then promptly changes the subject. “You’ll never believe the dream I had last night.”

Dex’s only response is to smile, knowingly, and wait for the rest of the story to come.

(below the cut is the full poem Nursey is quoting from here, which I spent way too long writing)

(my apologies now, I am not really a poet)

as of yet, untitled by d. m. nurse

I sleep in a sea of rumpled bedsheets.

They twist and coil with my restless body

on nights of sleepless dreams, and I imagine myself

voyager. Imagine myself at the helm of a ship

and curl my weathered hands around the salt soaked

wood until the splinters draw blood. I dream myself

alone on the top deck, bare feet screaming, digging.

I imagine I can feel the rootlessness. The desire of a dead

thing to find home in the ground.

In the morning I ask you if you think trees remember

what it felt like to breathe and you know better than

to respond.

A city is no place to sleep.

The concrete at my feet scrapes the skin

I show and begs, beats, the laughter from

my chest. At night my sighing body

collapses amongst the waves

and the sounds of the world unbothered by my absence

send me out to sea. I imagine myself castaway.

Imagine myself adrift on a raft crafted from

shaking hands, bound by forgotten string. I dream myself

holding my own bones as I gaze upon a growing island of my

own creation. I imagine I can feel the ache, the surety,

in knowing what the ending will be.

In the morning I ask you if breathing is the kind

of trick we are too afraid to question and your

frown is answer enough.

A twin bed is not meant for two.

The leftover pieces of your childhood

hang around me like fireworks that

have already gone off. You do not snore but

the warmth of your breath is loud enough to keep

me awake. We cannot hear the shoreline from your

bedroom but I imagine that you used to pretend

that you could feel the waves. I imagine sitting on a beach in late

winter air with sand slipping between my fingers the

way I wish you would. I dream you returning from the sea.

Rising from the waves, drenched and scraped

and grinning regardless. I imagine you are here for me.

In the middle of the night I ask you if love is meant to

be a lonely thing and your sleeping eyelids flutter without

saying a word.

When the drowning gets to be too much, I walk

to the kitchen in the darkness. I pour myself a glass

of water and wonder where it comes from.

Sometimes, you wake up.

When you stumble upon me in my dream soaked state

you call my ship Insomnia. You tell me to go to bed.

You offer to stay up with me.

The moonlight from the kitchen window bathes your pale skin

ivory. The word pearlescent comes to mind.

The counter stands between us, not ocean, not sand.

A solid, grounding thing.

I want to ask you if you remember when swimming

and standing were one and the same. I want to ask

you if a course can be set with no destination in

mind. I want to ask you so many things.

In the morning I wake up to gold. I wake up

to crispy bacon sizzling in pools of their own making

and eggs too salty to stomach. I awaken to sit at solid

counter and count the stars in your smile.

On nights when the water laps at sodden skin and dreams

tangle with fears to sigh adventure’s name and I wonder

if I have finally lost myself to the sea, I realize the soul

any sailor must have held.

The guide of constellations is a thankless, inevitable pull.

The desire, then, is not in what you hope to find,

but the journey of becoming worthy of it.

#nurseydex #dexnursey #check please #derek nurse #nurseydex week #nursey #dex #william poindexter #my writing #sort of fic #ficlet #poetry #this is pre-slash i guess #but i am caught up in this mindset rn #i'll try to have an actually getting together kind of ficlet for tomorrow's prompt #anyway enjoy this

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tales-from-exo-planet · 5 years

Text

LYON II PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT III./Pt II. “Cucumber Melon”

Length - 6,603

Mood - Disenchanted, Wearied

Pairing - Baekhyun x Reader

“Losing my breath

At your glance, my world stops

My heart is true, trust me

A burning passion

I’ll stake it all for you

There’s no other way

You know it…”

“Ice Queen” by Baekhyun

Present Day

“_____? The water is boiling. I can finish up in here with the tea if you’re going to be awhile!” _____ (Marseille Reader) called out to you from her kitchen.

You stared at the vomit swirling in the toilet as you flushed for the second time, and waited for the telltale hiss to subside before washing your hands at the already running faucet.

Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh no Oh God

“_____?” She (Marseille Reader) gently rapped at the door and tried the door knob.

“Sorry, I’ll be right there!” You answered and heard her soft “ok” before her footsteps receded back out into the hall again.

You washed your face clear of vomit and washed your hands for a third time before picking up the tube of her toothpaste. Unscrewing the cap, you squeezed a glob onto your finger and scrubbed at your teeth, and gargled mouthwash in a cycle of two.

You turned to look at the bottle of her cucumber melon shampoo whose cap had not been closed properly atop her bathroom vanity. One whiff of that as soon as you entered the bathroom had you running for the toilet.

I’m pregnant. I’m definitely pregnant again.

Cucumbers had never been your favorite vegetable though you had never had a particular aversion to them either. It was not until much later in life that you were very strict about not having anything to do with the scent and sight of cucumbers in your home even though it didn’t affect you. Yet.

The only extreme reaction you had ever had to the scent of cucumbers had been over a year ago during dinner with Jongdae and Baekhyun before he had temporarily moved to Almaty for their first gig.

You had ordered in from The Beef Club to celebrate, and after setting the table, abruptly vacated the area, leaving an equally stunned Baekhyun and Jongdae in shock, after smelling the cucumber ribbons you had specifically requested not be included in your summer spinach salad order. Baekhyun spotted them just as you lurched up and away from the table, his fork in hand to pick the ribbons from your plate, clattered to the floor as he hopped up to run after you.

“Poor jagi doesn’t like them anymore than I do now,” Baekhyun cooed as he came in behind you to help you clean up.

He held your hair back from your face as you vomited, rubbing your back until you dry heaved and sat back against him, his hand still at your back.

But after your solo appointment with your gynecologist later that week, you knew that was true in more ways than one.

The notion of this possible second pregnancy both horrified and delighted you all at the same time.

You couldn’t imagine this possibly being the best time to announce such news.

_____________

“Madame, Mr. Byun left with Mr. Byun and YunHee this morning. I have begun to pack your things for the week as he instructed,” your butler informed you upon your arrival by taxi that Sunday afternoon from ____’s (Marseille Reader’s) apartment.

“Yes I spoke with my mother on my way in. Both she and my in-laws are at Grandmother’s house and I will join them later this afternoon. I do however have a conference call scheduled...if you wouldn’t mind continuing to help me with my things?” She had greeted you at your front door, and quickly shared the week’s events planned in anticipation of your participation before dismissing herself at your request to continue with her work.

She dismissed herself down the hall ahead of you where you heard her dismiss the nanny from YunHee’s room.

“Monsieur already packaged all of her needs. You may tend to the laundry.”

Outside the gardener waved through the window.

You were still reeling from the earful your mother gave you.

“Why would you cause us to worry like this, ____? I cannot imagine what could have happened. Darling why couldn’t you come to me instead of taking off in the night?! What if something happened to YunHee? Baekhyun would never forgive himself-”

“Why are you defending him as if I am the only one in the wrong?! I’m not some spoiled brat-”

“Oh? And running away in the middle of the night says otherwise? ____, I will not tolerate this. What is so difficult to resolve-”

“Why do I have to resolve this issue with him?”

“Can it be such an unforgivable thing?!? I can hardly believe that. You will come to his grandparents’ this weekend” she demanded with a shout before hanging up, something she had never done even when you had pissed her off as a younger girl.

It was intolerable to be alone in this house with your solitary thoughts a moment longer but you would wait to finish the conference call here before joining the ambush you were sure this meeting at his grandparents’ house would be. After a moment of pacing from the foyer to the entrance of your family wing, you decided to wait for the call from ______ (Berlin Reader) and the others in the home office you still hadn’t finished designing.

You continued to pace the floor even in the office, stopping at the half unwrapped mirror leaned against the nude wall as you caught your reflection, and the memories of your crazed trek through the dark of your rural community to the greater city resurfaced.

You looked as though you were one of the Wild Hunt, suspiciously returning to a vacant castle whose master and mistress were exposed and impotent.

“Let me shower first,” you whispered to your own reflection, your eyes descending for a moment to your belly.

I even took you out there with me.

What if something had happened to us?

Again in the hall, you made your way to your bedroom, pausing at YunHee’s opened door to see her room neatly clear of the toys she would usually pull out to play with by this time of the morning.

He took everything she needed.

Even toys that she sometimes had difficulty describing with what primary sign language she had been learning with her speech and music therapist who made frequent house calls outside of her regular office visits when necessary.

After washing up and approving the bag packed by your butler that she brought to the front door to wait for you, you returned to the home office, dressed in an acceptable sundress and blazer to greet your family later on, in time to see ____ (Berlin Reader’s) name flash across your phone’s screen.

When you answered you heard a collective welcoming of cheerful, well rested voices.

“Hello everyone. Just wanted to update you all about an event coming up in the next month or so. Remember we had discussed a possible business package in tandem with a women’s seminar. Will all of you still be able to attend?,” she inquired, the sound of a pen scribbling on paper sounding in your ears at her brief pause.

“Mhm, we’ll be there,” _____ (Almaty Reader) chimed in immediately, speaking for _____ (OG Arizona Reader) who was listening in from her line.

____ (Marseille Reader) texted you asking you if you made it back home as she responded to the group line, “I’ll be there.”

“I’m back home, yea. Heading to grandparents in a little while.”

“I will have to see now that I’m back in town. There are some things that I need to take care of later this afternoon,” you were the last to answer.

“Oh damn…that’s sudden?”

“I should have known it would happen tho.”

“I do want to bring ____ (Yúnnan Reader) into the fold on this one because of her expertise. I’m not sure if you have all reviewed her numbers outside of Pathcodes but if you haven’t she is well connected and resourceful. She has quite a lot to offer to this conference. I’d like to put her to the test, if we are all in agreement?”

The decision to allow the trial was unanimous and so _____ (Berlin Reader) continued.

“Ok. We will reconvene by phone or email later this week or next week. I’d like to conference in the rest of our women’s board once there has been an adjustment period,” she stated before ending the call, wishing you all well in your coming week.

_____________

You knew this winding road.

The tall canopied trees.

The sound of this wind empty of other street noise and industrial chatter whipping past.

A breath of fresh, purified country air.

The eventual break of the long winding path to a house set back within a surrounding forever summer garden.

The fragrant roses planted closer to the door every year by grandfather on white day.

You had been out to their house plenty of times.

During the holidays.

On anniversaries.

Birthdays.

When family came into town.

It had always been a welcome space for you.

A familiar extension of him.

Your butler had been given instructions to drive you there in the staff car since Baekhyun had taken the family car.

You saw it parked in the circular brick drive and heard a familiar cry as you pulled your purse strap over your shoulder and opened the door.

“Aaaahhhhhh!! Maaaaa!!” She squealed happily as she came tumbling out the front door, her grandfather on her heels as she went, his huffed “조심해, 꼬마야! 조심해야 해!”

She slowed to a stop, her tutu flouncing down in a whoosh at her abrupt halt, as you dropped to your knees to embrace her, your entire world.

“Hello my beautiful, beautiful darling,” you whispered against her hair, kissing her hands, her cheeks, her closed tearful eyes.

She wriggled as you tried to hold her still against you and you knew that if she had the words to say it that she would tell you that you upset her by being gone all night long.

You could feel her little finger drawing her long syllabled protest against your cheek, letter by letter.

“I’m sorry I was gone. I’m sorry,” you whispered against her ear, feeling her little hands grab as much as she could of you, trying to pull herself up higher into your embrace.

“안녕하세요, 아버지, 건강하세요?” You said after standing and giving a cordial bow to your father-in-law who greeted you as always, with a small smile.

“저는 건강합니다. 집에 오신 걸 환영합니다, 딸,” he beckoned you forward with a slight tipping of his downturned hand and you went in obediently behind him with YunHee’s hand in yours.

____________

Your mother and mother-in-law both waited for you in the family den, anchoring grandmother who was nestled between them, their cups of tea on the low rise table before them.

They chattered noisily amongst themselves, a clucking of hens you once fondly dubbed the trio.

YunHee trilled in greeting, announcing her and your return, her voice rising in volume as she bounced around the sofa where her father sat with his back facing you.

You saw her sign to him happily, “Mommy is home.”

And when he asked her, her ever watchful eyes focused on his delicate fingers fluttering soundlessly, “are you happy?” she nodded and danced in her seat.

“Mother, Mother, Grandmother,” you tried to smile calmly as you spoke your greetings to each of them.

You stood just to the side of the sofa, remaining on your feet where he sat.

You caught your mother’s eyes as you approached.

Her gaze scaled you, appraising the distance you kept from him and your daughter.

“Get ready,” her unshakable gaze warned.

You greeted grandmother and mother-in-law in a similar fashion as you had greeted father-in-law before stepping closer to the sofa beside Baekhyun who was cuddling with YunHee.

She stood on the sofa to kiss his cheek and he turned into her kiss to blow a raspberry against her nose making her squeal even more.

“Pa pa ahhhh!” She chanted, dancing, swaying her hips side to side where he held her close to him, his back to you.

“We prepared lunch YunHee! Let’s go make a spot for Mommy now that she’s here!” Your mother called to her granddaughter approaching Baekhyun who raised her up into her grandmother’s arms to be carried away.

Grandmother, mother and father-in-law all followed along, their carefree chatter escaping to the inner patio dining area where more white day roses waited.

You kept your gaze to the floor as you took the seat beside him but now that all distractions were gone, you turned to him to find his eyes trained on the now displaced cups of tea that had been such well placed props.

What exuberant life he had embodied in Yun Hee’s presence was forbidding, and listless now that he was left alone with you.

You contemplated telling him now that they had gone but felt the thought twisting your mouth shut.

“YunHee wouldn’t stop crying all night. I wanted to come get you this morning but she wouldn’t let me leave her alone for even a moment-”

“But you’re her father that’s-”

He sucked in a breath, exhaling sharply as a burst of tears and a cry finally forced their way out of his pressed lips.

He clapped his hands over his mouth at his tormented outburst, closing his eyes as he frantically tried to compose himself.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” was all he said, his tone stricken, after a moment longer of your halted silence before he stood, swiping his tear stained hands along his thighs, pulling nervously at the sleeves of his newly dry cleaned trench coat as he went and followed the trail your family had left.

If he had waited, you would have tucked his hair at the nape of his neck where his collar rose.

But he didn’t wait for you.

_______________

He sat beside you where YunHee placed him at the dining table, who swallowed every bite whole, and squealed between sips of milk, and clapped and danced all the while she ate, but was careful not to let his body brush or linger against yours.

He leaned away as you leaned forward to wipe her mouth with her napkin.

To offer her more food.

To mind her chewing.

To beg her to please sit down.

To smile at her playful twirling of her fork.

To comb her hair back into the French braid her father had done.

He had even threaded the ribbon through it like she liked.

She had seen you braid it like that once and demanded to have it that way for any special occasion ever since.

“I want that,” was one of the very first phrases she learned to sign and that was the first thing she requested.

Baekhyun had sent you a video when she first accomplished it that you stopped to watch on your way home from the office.

You remembered his tearful voice asking her to show him again and again as she pointed to a picture from one of your first anniversaries together where your hair had been done.

“Ahhh wahhh daaa!” She exclaimed a final time in a triumphant tone and her father cheered and cheered before putting the phone down to run and grab the comb and brush and ribbons from your bedroom vanity where you kept them.

He let the phone record though they were out of focus while he sang to her when making bunny eared loops of ribbon and when he tied her shoes before they got up to dance.

“산토끼 토끼야

어디를 가느냐

깡총깡총 뛰면서

어디를 가느냐

산고개 고개를

나혼자 넘어서

토실토실 알밤을

주워서 올테야”

You felt the degree of heat in your cheeks rise the more you tried to keep your gaze trained on the second helpings of food you served him without looking at him whenever he asked for more.

“Here ____. You can serve,” your mother would prompt you the moment his request passed his lips, her hand pressing the cool steel of the ladle into your hand.

You kept your eyes on the ladle, shifting them only to his plate, avoiding their eyes, also.

It was pitiful.

It really must have been.

To watch you both.

______________

She napped immediately after brunch, again as she had been all afternoon, between you both, bringing you closer together to hold her up, with her lips pressed against your stomach where her younger sibling began to breathe with her arm around her father’s waist, his hand caressing her hair and back, careful to avoid bumping against you.

______________

After a bitter rebuke from grandmother, “right now it does not matter whether you are comfortable discussing this with us being present. We have YunHee to be concerned with now,” Baekhyun finally looked at you.

In all the days and nights that had belonged to you two alone, you had never seen the depth of panic you saw in his eyes.

And you were sorry.

You were sorry to see the prince of stained glass you epitomized, shattered before you and undone into this very broken, fearful, desperate man.

Grandmother insisted that you went first.

And you respected her wish.

“I have always known that you loved me first. From the moment you saw me even. I was a heart that you aimed to possess. I knew you could provide for me. That you would take care of me. But I was never sure that I could ever feel safe with you…”

You took your time, unearthing what remained unspoken, seeing the cracks in his heart deepening the more you shared.

Seeing the iciness of every word that left your lips steadily building a rising barrier between you.

You coolly doled out mortar where he laid bricks.

“When YunHee was born it couldn’t have been at a more confusing time for us. We had just gotten engaged and still weren’t sure what we wanted in our relationship. Whether we were ready to move into a house from my old apartment or not. Yes, we knew that we belonged together and that is still very true. There is no one in the world that I could love, the way that I love you Baekhyun. But-”

His unsettled tears stopped you.

And where you paused, he began to speak.

“I always knew that one day I would fail you. I knew one day that no matter how much I loved you that I would make a mistake that you would never forgive me for. I knew you were waiting for me to fail you. And my anxiety over the years is not something I can blame anyone but myself for.”

“I shouldn’t have played that role. You never explicitly asked to fill the role but then again you did. I had to be worthy of you. And I wanted you to love me. I didn’t want to possess you. I never wanted that. I thought I could beat the odds. I thought that if I did what you needed and I proved you wrong then maybe one day you would accept me as the man that I am. I was hoping that one day you would stop treating me like your father and that you would finally see me as your husband, and your life partner,” he kept his eyes on you as his tears fell.

And you couldn’t discern what was worse to endure.

Your truths, finally, simultaneously, pushed out and through to the surface, their dreadful petals made bare in this summer garden of love in front of your mutual, unassuming family, with your children at the foot of it, helpless.

The way that his eyes watched as you finally came into realization of how he actually saw you.

How he had always seen you.

Not the princess destined, as you’d always believed, for her fated prince.

But an ice queen in form and shape only dressed as a princess.

They shifted uncomfortably as they waited for either of you to continue.

They had been accomplices to his misadventures in this hapless affair.

Cheering on his every attempts to melt the ice from your heart.

What must they, all of them, have thought of his daring summit?

They had goaded him on day after day and year after year to amount to what?

Your rage from the night before shuffled forth to the forefront emboldening you.

You felt it rising in you as if it were a weapon raised and poised to strike.

Did they all see you as some monstrous beast to contain?

Were you the very ice dragon guarding the catacombs below that the prince dueled to win his slumbering princess's heart and favor?

“Why didn’t you go see YunHee in the hospital? Why did you leave her alone?”

You barely whispered the pointed, poison-tipped question but he heard you, his gaze unwavering though torn.

It was as if he had stripped himself of his armor, piece by piece.

Until there was nothing left for you to pierce but his very bare heart beneath his flushed, humble skin that he exposed to you, willingly.

“I couldn’t leave you. I just couldn’t _____. I couldn’t walk away from you. And I couldn’t walk into a future without you. I couldn’t bare that thought. That if I left you by yourself that something would happen to you and I would never see you again. We have never spent a day without each other since we met. I could never imagine a life without you. And I couldn’t look at her, knowing how much I loved her the moment you told me she existed and be able to endure all of the things they had to do for and to her, all the while wondering if it would be enough and if I would lose her also. I thought I would lose the both of you and I couldn’t choose. No. I did choose. I chose you. I was selfish. I am not proud of that. I am not proud of how weak I am when it comes to us. The things I am willing and not willing to do. I never imagined myself this way.”

His eyes were reddening but he blinked the tears from his vision, forcing himself, his body trembling like it did when he was trying to hold back deeper sobs, to remain focused on you.

“Was that why you left us last night? You have hated me since the day she was born. I know it in my heart. That hatred you’ve kept for me has overgrown and I feel like there’s no room left for us…” he sniffled as he looked at your daughter where she pulled him closer, cooing in her sleep.

“I don’t hate you-”

“Hate is a very strong word, yes. But you are disappointed in me. It’s in everything you say to me. It's everything you’ve stopped saying too,” he wiped his tears from his face as you felt your own falling.

“Baekhyun I…”

“What do you want to do, ____? We can’t keep doing this.” His tone was softer as if he was measuring out what he could do with the failing strength he had to say what he needed to say.

You knew how difficult this was for him.

To admit his errors not only to you but in front of your family and your daughter.

You knew that you caused him ever more heartache now because you had left last night.

If he had given you space to be angry maybe you could have resolved this alone.

But turning over the thought again and again in your mind, you knew that it wasn’t just that the tumult of his anxiety that had suddenly driven you away and into the fright of night all the way across town.

It was as he said.

You were disappointed.

A word that was greater in meaning than hatred.

It had an indefinite end to it.

And the fact that he knew it and admitted that aloud here…

You had wounded him deeply.

To say that in front of his parents, your mother, your family, because they refused to allow you another opportunity to delay this resolution privately.

They knew better than to leave the two of you to it anyway.

But you knew that he would allow you to hurt him even this way because he loved you too much.

And you were horrified at how justified you still felt.

Even in your tempered disappointment, you felt your heart breaking for the way he was hurting so openly and willingly for you.

“Baekhyun...I am disappointed. I am disappointed that you did that. I feel that I have a right to say that. I...I know what you’re saying and I understand what you mean. I know that you love me. I know what you would be willing to sacrifice everything for me. I...I’m sorry. I am. I am sorry,” he looked away from you as you began to speak.

“When you did that I felt so angry. I was so angry that you abandoned her when she needed you the most. I was so angry that you entrusted her safety to other people and that you never went yourself to make sure that she was safe. I was angry that you could be so cowardly for some superfluous reason that seemed nonconsequential at most.”

“When you did that...I did think of my father. I thought of the way he had abandoned me and I resented you for showing YunHee that. Even afterwards when we brought her home and you did your best taking care of her, doing everything possible for her to the point where I became the primary breadwinner for our household...I was still angry at you. I am still angry at you...I couldn’t forgive it...it was the one thing you promised. That you would be different. And I can’t let go of that. That anger. And when you tried to force me to be vulnerable with you the other night as if you didn’t know why I was so angry...I hated everything all the more. I was so angry at you again when you didn’t defend me when I told you what Minseok said. I was so angry at you.”

“And it was then that I realized that I never trusted you. Never,” you sobbed as he began to sob also, turning further away from you, YunHee clasped him tighter, shrinking into his embrace.

“I know…” he answered between hiccuping cries.

____________

You placed YunHee in your mother’s arms as she brought her up and away to the nursery her great grandparents created for their grand and great grandchildren in their summer garden home.

Baekhyun waited for you to continue, after wiping again at his eyes, his nose and mouth with the tissues grandmother had given to you both.

“Baekhyun I don’t know what to do. I want what’s best for YunHee. I want what’s best for our family. I want her to have her father in her life. I want to forgive you. I want everything to be...I want her to have a happy home,” you said to him, willing him to turn and face you.

He seemed to hear your telepathic call and turned to face you, bleary-eyed. Both his nose and cheeks were splotched with red where he had been wiping away tears.

“I want YunHee to have her mother in her life. I want her to have her family, both yours and mine with her. I want us to get through this. I want you to trust me. I want you to forgive me. I want you to forgive me for where I haven’t defended you. I want you to forgive your father. I want us to have a happy home too,” he answered in kind, his cadence lifeless.

“B-Baekhyun,” you sputtered past fresh tears, a new look of dread and knowing on his face as you touched your stomach.

You didn’t have to say it.

His eyes welled up in such petrified anguish.

It was as if he was looking at you in a glass enclosed box without a way to get you out of it as it sunk lower and deeper into the ocean’s dark depths.

He couldn’t touch you.

_________

“I had a dream about my grandson after YunHee’s first birthday. And I’ve dreamed that dream night after night until last night when it changed. And where I saw my great grandson once before he was no longer there. There was an empty space where he once was.”

Grandfather spoke in deliberate rounded tones as you and Baekhyun both tried to quiet your sobs.

“I hope you don’t do what you’re considering.” He finished after a pregnant pause.

You gasped at his insinuation though you knew better than to act so startled.

Wasn’t that the very reason for the anguish on Baekhyun’s face only a moment ago?

You were the only one hearing this dream for the first time. Of that you were sure.

“Before I came today I did wonder what I should do...I want our child but things with Baekhyun were not certain and I wasn’t sure what else to do. Had we not come here today...I honestly don’t know what I would have done. I don’t know if I could have seen that through,” you looked at your hands against your stomach where Yun Hee had been and where this tiny child was.

Grandmother spoke up, clearing her throat.

“Our families are united by YunHee. Her future is very important to us. This was once such a loving match. But hearing your stories and perspectives, we realize that we saw more in it than what you saw _____ for the sake of our grandson,” grandmother spoke to you now, in tones not as round and deliberately thoughtful.

You straightened.

“I come from an old way and an old life that encourages bonds made in marriage to be kept sacred no matter the cost. But where there is marriage lacking in this situation there are children. And more than one at that. And so we consider this similar to a bond made by marriage that cannot be undone.”

“I would advise that you spend time apart from YunHee, together. I would advise that you allow us to keep her for the summer. I would advise that you decide, grandson, what you would like this relationship to be. I would advise that you decide what kind of father and husband you will be going forward. I would advise that you hear the concerns of your loved one and that you take responsibility and respond for the sake of your children. I would advise that you truly consider each one of her thoughts. I would advise that you both seek counseling and resolve to marry before the close of this year.”

Baekhyun raised his eyes to his grandparents, his mother, your mother, your family in terrified protest to the demands that they made.

He caught your eyes watching him and turned from you, embarrassed.

Was he sorry that they were impressing this upon you now?

Was he sorry because he felt that it was his fault?

“I can’t spend a night without her, grandmother,” he answered the demand, an edge entering his voice.

“She will be close by. We have an interview this afternoon with a preschool close to us that she can attend-”

“Why can’t we actually discuss this? We are her parents,” he answered, his tone rising in exasperation.

“As her parents, you have every right to protest. Please do not misunderstand me,” his grandmother stated, and he snapped his mouth shut.

“What you must also understand, grandson, is that we are not willing to give up on this relationship even though it is very clear that the two of you are uncertain. You cannot see what we see. You have not lived long enough to understand the endurance, resilience and the strength relationships truly require. And because of that we will not let you abandon this. You will come to an absolute resolution that benefits both your daughter and this new life,” grandmother stood after finishing her statement, bringing forward a school voucher pamphlet she had kept upon her lap while she sat listening to you both.

She placed it before you both, at the center of the table.

Baekhyun received it first, reviewing it several times before placing it on the table directly in front of you.

_____________

“I know that the pain your father dealt you was great. But I had no idea that it would turn you into this kind of person, ____. How could you do this? For years?” Your mother waited until you placed the pamphlet on the table before she spoke.

She had always been the one to encourage you forward.

She championed your fearless spirit, and your passionate nature.

But she knew the other side of it.

Both the cause and the pain.

She knew the height of your fury.

And she wasn’t apologizing for how things had gone.

She too kept her eyes open and she brought things to your attention every step along the way.

But she allowed you freedom where he perhaps did not have it.

And maybe that was the source of the cloud of guilt cast over her face.

“Why would you string someone along who loves you? Is your heart that broken? Or are you that afraid to trust?”

You fought the rage that twisted within your mouth.

Pummeling back the very words you knew you shouldn't say to her, a verbal assault you could never return from.

Not only would you injure your mother but you would destroy yourself in trying to deflect the light shining on you.

Instead you began to cry.

“I don’t know how to forgive him. I don’t know how to make peace with him. I don’t know how to move on. I hate him for what he did to us. I hate him for lying to you. I hate him for forcing you to be alone. I hate him for abandoning me. I hate him but he doesn’t care that I hate him. He doesn’t care how I feel. He cares about the way that he looks. He cares about what other people think of him. He never cared about whether I liked him or whether I loved him as a father. He never wanted a relationship with me. Or you. And when I realized that it just completely ruined me. He doesn’t care about how you feel either...he never cared about us. He could never be held responsible. He would never ever ever be found guilty. He would never ask for forgiveness. And so I’m left here with this pain and this fear that there are men out there who will do these things to you...and they don’t care…”

And you looked at your lover then.

Your heart.

Your soul.

Your conscious.

Your everything.

Begging him to forgive you.

Begging him to know that you knew how pitiful and selfish you had been.

Begging him to understand what strength this rage had given you.

How it had for years and years and years sustained you and kept you safe from harm.

Begging him to know that you loved him in an inexplicably unrelenting way.

And he answered you in kind, finally reaching to wipe away the tears on your cheek that mirrored his own.

He shifted closer to you, the ice of your heart cracking though not melting the closer the heat of his heart pressed forward against the barriers you both haphazardly rebuilt and dismantled as the day now greeted the first dimming shades of night, coming to a clear draw.

You sat on the floor of the garden before your family who waited, patiently throughout the deconstruction.

He pressed his lips to the top of your head.

And you whimpered into his chest as his welcoming arms finally received you, his earnest touch finding your womb.

“But I cared about you. I cared about you more than I cared about myself. I was willing to do anything you asked. I cared about what you thought of me...and that’s all that ever mattered to you.”

#EXO Pathcodes AU #Baekhyun fanfic #Lyon x Baekhyun #Lyon #Human Realm #Universe Gamma

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silver-wields-a-pen · 5 years

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Illthdar High: An au fan fiction

Monday Morning Imogen tried not to focus on the stench of sweaty socks and body odour as she sucked face with Salem behind the gym bleachers. They had ten minutes before the first bell which meant five minutes before Coach Phanuel would walk in with his Egg Mc Muffin and coffee. She memorized the gym teacher’s morning routine as soon as she realized they needed a place to meet up in secret. If anyone in the school knew she was making out with the loser who thought he was a vampire, it would ruin her reputation. She still wasn’t entirely sure why she had let this go on as long as she had. All she knew was that she and Salem ended up alone at some party a few weeks ago and kissed. Since then, she’d made up a lot of excuses to sneak away and meet him for another make-out session. He was a surprisingly good kisser. Most guys Imogen kissed got way too eager with their tongue, making for a very sloppy and wet technique. Salem did not. And he's kinda cute… for a dork who likes to spend his time playing fantasy dress up. Imogen opened one eye to check her watch. 7:55. Already? She pulled away from Salem. “It’s almost time for class. We should go,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment by reaching into her messenger bag for some lip gloss. Sure enough, she could hear Coach Phanuel’s humming coming from down the hall. “Remember––”

He stopped her by grabbing her hand and gently placing a kiss on top. “I know, I know. I won’t tell a soul,” he finished. She pulled her hand away. “Don’t make me regret this more than I already do.” She left at a brisk walk before he could notice the blush colouring her cheeks. She hated how much she enjoyed the way her hand tingled where his lips had been.

~*~*~ “Hey man, where were you?” Rhovan asked as Salem walked up to their table in the cafeteria. He was sitting with the other members of the band, Date and Xyl, as they discussed the upcoming talent show. They had little success on agreeing on the set list. Rhovan kept arguing for more solos and Xyl had to point out that even Date had a difficult time screaming over the drums.

Date, as usual, was only half paying attention. He mumbled a quick “Hey,” before returning to scribbling lyrics on the nearest napkin. “I… had to get something from my locker,” Salem lied, taking a seat next to his friends. “Well, you don’t have much time left before the breakfast line closes,” Xyl pointed out. “I’ve already had my meal.” He smiled wide, so they could see the red tint of his teeth as he pulled out the flask he always carried. It had taken Salem ages to find the perfect juice product to give the desired effect. Hawaiian Punch was the perfect substitute for blood.

Xyl and Rhovan both rolled their eyes. “Look, I’m just saying it doesn’t work with our image,” Xyl said to Rhovan, returning to the argument Salem interrupted. “Of course it does, man. Tell him, Date.” Date looked up at his name, blinking back confusion. “What?” “Aren’t you even listening?” Rhovan asked, running his hands through his electric blue hair. “This concerns all of us,” agreed Xyl. Date sighed in a long-suffering manner, flicking his long dark hair out of his face and turning his black-lined eyes towards the bickering duo. They should know better than to interrupt him when he was in ‘the zone.’ How could they perform without his lyrics to inspire and direct them? Still, he knew these idiots well enough to know that they wouldn’t shut up until he paid attention to what they were saying. “Fine, I’m listening. What?” ~*~*~ Vyxen watched her brother join his friends from across the room as she finished her own breakfast. All of her meals were plastic wrapped and separated from everyone else’s. Today it was a rock-hard blueberry muffin and a clementine on the side. Her allergies to nuts and gluten made it difficult to eat out anywhere, and she always carried her epi pen just in case. “Do you want your chocolate milk?” She turned to her friend, Raemina. “No, you can have it,” she replied, distracted and having just made eye contact with Rhovan. Beside her, Nyima wrapped her sweater more tightly around her shoulders and shivered. “I wish they’d turn the heat up in here. It’s always so drafty!” Vyxen shrugged as she took the carton off Raemina’s tray, noticing Jingyi watching from the end of a table where he sat by himself, trying not to take up too much space. “I know you said he's not,” she commented to Nyima, “but he is totally checking you out.” “He's not,” Nyima insisted, glancing at Jingyi and blushing.

Raemina snorted, but didn't take her eyes off Rhovan across the room. “You can practically hear his thoughts, he's so transparent.” She wished Rhovan was like that.

“Yup,” Vyxen agreed, nodding. “He thinks you look pretty—which is given because you are—and he wants to ask you out, but he's a boy, so he's freaking.”

Nyima ducked her head and glanced at Jingyi again, trying to see what her friends did. The bell rang and Jingyi sprang up from his seat and said, “I’ve gotta go,” to no one in particular and dashed out of the cafeteria.

Nyima's face burned with sympathetic embarrassment as he nearly tripped over the garbage can.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” He looked at Nyima to see if she saw and grew flustered when he caught her looking and ran out. Raemina, finally dragging her eyes away from Rhovan’s glittering aqua eyes, just shook her head. “You know, I’m no expert on love but even I can tell that he has a thing for you. You should talk to him.” Nyima choked, pausing mid-way up from her chair to stare at Raemina with wide, terrified eyes. “I couldn’t,” she mumbled, getting up and fiddling with the contents in her plain, dark blue backpack to give her hands something to do. “I wouldn’t know what to say. You guys know I don’t do well under pressure.” “She’s right,” Vyxen agreed with Nyima, sipping her chocolate milk as she stood up and gathered her backpack. “I wouldn’t be able to just walk up and talk to a guy like that, that’d be too scary.” “Like how you can’t even function when Date is in the same space as you?” Nyima asked with a little grin, eager to push attention away from herself. Vyxen deflated. “I tried to talk to him once. He didn’t even know my name. I’ve been in the same class with him since third grade and he's been coming over to my house to hang with Salem since middle school,” she lamented sadly.

Nyima gave her a hug. “Boys are dumb.” “And anyways,” Vyxen continued as the three of them shuffled into the hallway to join the throng of students heading to class, “if it was so easy, Rae, you would have done it a long time ago.” Raemina sighed again, thinking of long blue hair. She could not think of any reason to defend herself for not approaching Rhovan other than the same anxiety the other two were feeling. “Yeah, you’re right.” ~*~*~ “We’re gonna have another late practice tonight because the JV girls can’t get their act together. Seriously, I don’t know how any of them think they’ll ever make Varsity if they can’t even get a back handspring,” Zercey complained, rolling her eyes. “Mmm,” replied Scyanatha, only half listening as her friend chatted on their way to class. “And then Friday is the talent show, so all day afternoon we’ll be preparing for that. Oh, which reminds me, one of the club leaders is sick with mono or something, so we need someone else to judge. Could you help?”

That got her attention. “Judge the talent show?” she repeated, a smirk forming on her face. “I’d love to.” Zercey snickered, knowing what her friend thought about the so-called ‘talent’ at their school. Zercey was captain of the cheer squad, and their friend Imogen was class president, which meant between them, they were always in charge of events at the school. After all, someone with taste needed to make sure the rest of those losers didn’t mess it up for everyone else. Scyanatha usually preferred to sit on the sidelines while the others ran the show. Doing the heavy lifting was not a good idea when your manicures cost as much as hers did. Imogen caught up with them halfway through the hallway. “Scy’s helping judge?” she queried having just overheard the last bit of the exchange. Zercey nodded, and she smiled. “This is gonna be fun.” They got to their door of their English class only to see Seth, Scy’s boyfriend, casually leaning against the doorframe. “See you in class,” Imogen said as she and Zercey shared a knowing look and walked in to take their seats. “Hey babe,” Seth said, grabbing Scyanatha’s waist. Without waiting for her to respond, he drew her towards him and pressed his mouth to hers. The combination of the mint from his toothpaste and the spice of his aftershave stung her nostrils in a way that always got her worked up.

She returned his kiss hungrily, knowing full well that they were drawing stares and loving every second of it. Let them look. He's all mine. When they finally drew apart, Seth kept his face close to hers. “Are your parents still out of town?” he asked huskily, still looking at her lips.

She nodded, knowing what that meant.

“Good. I’ll come over after practice.” He gave her one last kiss and then walked down the hall with his practiced swagger. “Take a picture, why don’t you,” Scy snapped to the janitor who was making a big show of not looking at the two of them; Trenfal, she thought his name was. Her hair whipped behind her as she strode into the classroom. ~*~*~ Down the hall, Rhoe glowered at the history teacher Mr. Culvers as he rambled on about some stupid, dead president. Principal Chiyoko’s sickly sweet voice hadn’t even finished ringing through the sound system for the morning announcements before he cut in, eager to get the day’s lesson started. I can’t wait to graduate. God, I need a cigarette. Of course she had one not even ten minutes ago. Every morning before class Rhoe and her only friend and ally, Cowan, shared a smoke behind the school parking lot. They'd taken up the secret habit a year ago after he stole a pack from his house without his mom knowing. Now he was in another class with some other deadbeat teacher and she had to sit through an hour and a half of Mr. Culvers delighting in the sound of his own voice. In front of her, Rhovan beat two pencils against the desk as if it were the plastic and metals of his drum kit instead of beat up wood. Rhoe kicked the back of his seat to let him know just how she felt about his music making. He stopped the drumming, but not before shooting her a dark look from over his shoulder. “And, since this chapter is also the last in its section, in pairs, you’ll all pick a relevant topic and create a project around it,” Mr. Culvers stated in an overly exuberant tone, either not noticing or ignoring just how lacking in excitement his students were. “The person to your left will be your partner,” he carried on talking right through the groans. “You will each pick one ancient city and complete a presentation about it by Friday.” More groans followed, and the plaid clad teacher finally took note and frowned. Ancient history was deeply fascinating and he couldn’t believe that he got landed with a class where not even one student, not even one, was interested. Time to sweeten the deal. “I will excuse the best presentation… from the mid-winter exams.” He watched as the whole class’s posture instantly changed, finally paying attention. “I will expect you to give the presentation in front of the entire class, so be sure you know what you’re talking about,” he added with a wide smile, speaking almost directly to Seth. The kid thought he was slick by having other people do his work, but he didn’t know the ‘nerds’ he hired ended up slipping in ridiculous sentences and facts throughout the work. Seth never bothered to proofread things before he turned them in, which was a big mistake on his part.

Seth narrowed his light brown eyes at his teacher and then narrowed them even further when he looked to the side to see the weird Emo kid they placed him with. He couldn’t honestly even remember this guy’s name and now he was supposed to work with him? This was utter bull. “So what do you want to do?” he asked none too nicely, only to be ignored entirely by the black-haired teen beside him. “Hey,” Seth continued, sounding more unfriendly by the second and not used to being ignored, “I’m talking to you, moron.” “What?” Date drawn out of his daydream, cast lazy grey eyes over to the irritated rich boy. “Did you need something, your highness?” he drawled, not particularly interested in this conversation and not having heard a single word the teacher or Seth said. “Were you listening to anything?” Seth exploded, drawing the eyes of the surrounding students. “Nope.” Date replied without missing a beat, his lips quirking up when Seth swore under his breath.

Things were no cheerier across the room. Since neither Rhoe nor Rhovan had anyone sitting with them, they were paired together. It thrilled neither of them. “We can meet up later at your house to talk about the project.” Rhovan said, finally breaking the intense staring competition the two were having, opting to take the high road for the sake of his grade. “Why my house? I don’t want you in my space.” Rhoe scowled at him, wishing she had a cigarette if only so she could put it out on his forehead. “Because your brother will be there to make it easier to deal with you.” Rhovan snapped, turning back around and pressing his nose into his book to have an excuse not to talk to her anymore. He already knew this would be a nightmare. He’d rather pair up with Date, even if he knew that he’d be doing all the work if he was. That would still be preferable to the brat sitting behind him. It would be a long, miserable week. ~*~*~ The chemistry teacher, Mr. Uwe’s, eyeglasses fell down the bridge of his long, slim nose. He pushed them back up now as he addressed the class. “Pop quiz!” he announced to a lot of groans. Nyima took a deep breath, nerves already flaring at the idea of a pop quiz. She studied, but she never liked things sprung on her at a moment’s notice. She pushed her book into the cubby hole under the table and waited for someone to pass the papers out, chancing a glance at her friends to see if they were as surprised by the sudden quiz as she was. Vyxen was two tables over from her, sitting beside a bored looking goth kid named Cowan and obsessively straightening her pens and pencils. She organized them so they were all lined up and sorted by color. She probably wouldn’t need them all for this class, but it was better to be prepared. She was one of the few students who didn’t zone out when Mr. Uwe droned on about a subject and she liked all of her notes color coded. Raemina was a seat in front of her, sitting straight-backed and with a pencil at the ready, her game face on. Nyima knew she wouldn’t have any problems, Rae was the smartest kid in their grade. Moving of their own accord, her blue eyes traveled to the scrawny, but handsome boy sitting next to her. Jingyi had his eyes on the board, picking a paper out of the pile before passing them behind him to Cowan. He didn’t look nervous and Nyima wondered if he was good at chemistry. Maybe they could study together? Like a study group! That way she could invite him to the group instead of inviting him to study with her alone that made things seem safer. His blue eyes suddenly moved across the room and landed on her and Nyima aborted the idea as her heart almost beat out of her chest. No! She tried to will the redness away from her cheeks, he would think I was stupid if I asked. Jingyi was having a similar sort of breakdown. It was risky to try and look at Nyima in this class, the potential of getting caught was too high since he shared a table with one of her friends. His eyes moved on their own though and oh gosh, he knew she’d seen him look at her. She was so pretty, it wasn’t even fair that she existed and she probably thought he was a total creep now. He cursed himself, thinking of the horrible things she must think of him and filling out his worksheet with bs answers just to look like he was busy. “Hey, can I borrow a pen.” Cowan asked Vyxen, watching as the girl paused and seemed to have some sort of mental stroke as she looked over her well-organized writing utensils, debating which one she could sacrifice because she knew by now he wouldn’t give it back. He’d been doing this all year and it was the only thing that amused him enough to carry him through the class. She was too nice to tell him no, but she was such an organization freak that the idea of parting with one of her pens and utterly ruining the color system she had going bothered her. He tried not to snicker too loud when her shoulders took on a defeated slump and she handed over a dark blue pen. “Thanks, I’ll remember to give it back,” he lied, immediately sticking the end of the pen into his mouth to chew on. He could see her twitch out of the corner of his eye. As he turned to the front of the class, he felt someone’s eyes on him. Looking around, he made eye contact with Xyl, who was watching the interaction with a smirk. Cowan gave him a nod and then turned his attention back to Mr. Uwe as the teacher handed him the quiz.

Xyl watched Cowan for another moment more under the curtain of shaggy hair that mostly obscured his face. The two men were on friendly terms. Or at least, as friendly as Cowan got with anyone besides Xyl’s sister, Rhoe. Those two hung out all the time, skipping class and sneaking cigarettes when they thought no one was paying attention. But Xyl knew, he’d been watching Cowan for a while now though it was quite a task to do so. He couldn’t envision what his sisters would say if they found out. Rhoe would accuse him of creeping on her friend and most definitely tell Cowan all about it, and Imogen would be disgusted and twitter about it to her stupid friends, and soon the entire school would know and he’d have to flee the state and change his name. But… but he could still look. Just so long as he didn’t get caught. ~*~*~ Zercey batted her eyelids at the handsome, young English teacher, Mr. Bracken. It was all for show, of course. Zercey enjoyed getting the other girls' backs up, but that wasn’t the only reason she did it. She and Lerki hooked up several times now, but he never admitted he was actually interested in her. He was almost always flanked by other women throwing themselves at him, and even though she knew they did nothing, it still made her jealous. Two can play at that game, she decided. Lerki sauntered into the room, throwing a wink at an underclassman in the second row. She fluttered and blushed, ducking her head in embarrassment as he passed her and took his seat at the back of the class, pausing briefly to chat up a pretty blond girl on his way. His ego stroked when she stuttered out a response, face turning as red as the shirt she was wearing. He all but fell into his seat, sprawling long legs under the desk and turning his dark blue eyes to Zercey, watching as she attempted to flirt with the clearly annoyed teacher. Seeing her try to make him jealous was adorable, it almost made him want to pinch her pretty cheeks. He threw an arm over the empty seat next to him, glancing at it before turning his dark blue eyes to Zercey with a pointed look and a smile that could make panties drop, or so they told him. Zercey hated that it was working. She let out a huff, but collected her expensive, designer bag and marched to the back of class, sitting in the seat Lerki directed her to. She really shouldn’t let him have so much power, she usually liked to keep her boy toys in their places, but dammit, he was just so stupidly hot. He knew it too and his grin widened when she did exactly what he wanted her to.

“Good girl,” he purred, letting his eyes wander over, drinking in the sight of her in her miniskirt and heels. Lerki liked to think she’d put them on with him in mind. “Hey gorgeous,” he whispered, leaning across the aisle until he could smell her Chanel perfume. “Maybe after school today we could…”

The sound of Mr. Bracken ‘accidentally’ slamming a pile of books onto the front desk cut off whatever Lerki intended to say. He had good ears and he’d had to listen to those two exchange horrifying comments for the entire semester. There was only so much he could take this early in the morning. I knew it was a bad idea to take a job in a public high school, Mr. Bracken bemoaned internally, I should have just waited for that position in the local private school to open up next year. I don’t deserve this level of nonsense. “Good news!” He put on his best smile and tried to ignore the creepily dreamy looks some of his students sent him. “Today I will assign everyone the book they’ll use for their book report!” Internally he delighted at the sounds of their groans and suffering. “I hope you all like medieval literature!” Scyanatha rolled her eyes, but didn’t even bother to glance up from her pale pink smartphone where she was scrolling through the comments on her latest selfie. This class was stupid, and it was ridiculous that she had to take it. Why would she ever need to read books anyways? She would be a model and marry Seth. This course was nothing but hindering her future. Didn't Bracken know how many selfies and self-promotion she could get done in an hour? Like… a lot. Instead, she was stuck here and the hotness of the teacher didn’t make up for the mind-numbing boredom she felt. At least she wasn’t alone, she stretched out one of her long legs and nudged Zercey’s back with the top of her lacy, Jimmy Choo heel. She flashed her cell phone when Zercey turned before quickly dropping it back below her desk and out of sight to send her a message in their group chat. Scybaby: so when r u gonna to put mr blond sexy into his place? Starflyer4: Working on it! Scybaby: u no he’s into you… obvs… just stop playing his game! Starflyer4: I’m weak to blonds Scy! U kno this ImoL0v3: As much as I agree with Scy (he’s so into you) this project is like 40% of our grade. Pay attention. Scybaby: not doing it… seth can def pay 1 of the nerds to do it 4 me. we have better things to do with our time ;) ImoL0v3: Gross. Scybaby: jealous? u no Seth has some hot friends, I can totes hook u up ImoL0v3: Those creepy college bros? Pass. Starflyer4: Can Seth actually pay people do to the project?! Imogen was amused, if not a little exasperated. She had no doubts that Seth could wave some money around and get all of their projects done and it sounded exactly like the sort of thing he’d do. It was almost tempting to see if he’d also get someone to do hers, but as class president she was going to be watched closer than the other students. She’d have no choice but to do it herself. Maybe Salem could help. Medieval literature should be right up his alley. It also gave her an excuse to be in his presence without Scy and Zercey both freaking out over it. She cast a glance to her two friends, both only breaking away from their cellphones to look up at the board and pretend to pay attention. She could ask Salem for help, but she’d definitely have to do it outside of school. Even with an excuse it was too risky to be around him where others could see. She couldn’t even imagine how quickly her reputation would go down the toilet if anyone found out she talked to him.

By @guardians-of-las-vyxen

#Writeblr #Illthdar fan fiction #Au fan fiction #high school au

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writingthingsisdifficult · 6 years

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Try again

Request: Lovely to see you back gorgeous! OK, I want to do the prompt thing. I've been trying to not think too hard. :| I'm going to give you things to use however you like, with Dean. In the same story as Dean, I mean. A haha. A pen; cobalt blue; January; and someone has to say "Lower". Obscure as fuck, I know. Well, buh-byeee *skips away*

Word count: 3284

This was supposed to be a short little thing, but I think I got a bit carried away. Anyway, enjoy. And I’d love it if you told me what you think of it. Just keep in mind that English isn’t my first language. Also: a little warning for arguing and fighting.

Dean frowned. He hadn’t seen or heard from you since January – when he so ungraciously told you to get lost. He didn’t know why he’d – yeah, he did, and it drove him mad. Everything would be easier that way. At least that was what he’d convinced himself, but now he knew better. It was pain – pure, excruciating agony, being away from you like that, but once he’d realised what an idiot he’d been, you were nowhere to be found.

It was like you were dissolved into thin air. First place he’d gone to look was the old motel he’d left you in. It was a long shot, but he had to start somewhere. Of course you weren’t there. And you were good at covering your tracks, but he knew you – and he wanted you back.

That’s why it came as a total shock when your name flashed on his phone, the familiar guitar riff drawing a smile despite the fact that he no longer could listen to the song without his stomach sinking through the floor.

“H-hello?” He answered the phone hesitantly, unsure whether or not it really was you on the other end.

“Dean!” Your voice was like gold in his ears, but somewhere in the back of his head a small voice screamed that something was off about it. He decided to play along for now and figure out what it was along the way.

“Y/N,” he breathed, trying his best to keep ten months of agony and longing from seeping into his own voice.

“Dean, I need you!”

Shit. Of all the things you could have said, this was the last thing he expected. Dreamt of, yes, but never really thought… “Y/N, what’s going on?” He had to make sure it didn’t just happen inside his head.

There was a short, but poignant pause on the other side. Then you muttered: “I’m in trouble. I need you.”

Dean was already on his feet with his jacket in his hand, searching for his car keys before grabbing his boots. Holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder, he struggled to pull them on, hopping around on one foot. “I’ll be there,” he said, trying to convey all the regret from the last year into the phone. “Just gimme an address.”

There was a muffled cry, then high-pitched whimpering.

Working even harder, he pulled the shoelace so hard it snapped, and he cursed silently.

“Just come get me,” you sobbed.

The sound of you so scared and hurt broke his heart in even smaller pieces. He never should have left you in the first place. “I will, sweetheart,” he said in his most soothing voice, picking up a pen from the table. There was no paper in sight. “But I need you to tell me where you are.”

“Just south of McAlester, Oklahoma. The old farm off of Frink Road.” Suddenly you sounded hesitant, as is you were regretting calling him.

Dean hastily scribbled your direction on his hand. “We’re on our way,” he replied and picked up his ready packed duffle bag. Thank god they were already leaving this godforsaken dump anyway. He’d soon be with you, and he would drive all night if he had to.

“Y/N…” he began, intending to apologise for… everything, but the line was cut off. The beeps coming from his phone rang ominously in his ear.

“Sammy, get your ass in gear. We’re leaving. Now!” Three sharp raps on the bathroom door.

Sam poked his head through the opening with his mouth full of foaming toothpaste. “Wha – “ Catching Dean’s murderous glare, he ducked back in, spat, then gargled, before emerging again. “Where’s the fire?”

“Y/N called,” Dean answered through gritted teeth.

“Shit!”

“Yeah. So get your crap and get in the car.”

With a sarcastic smile and eyes that told Dean exactly how big of an idiot he’d been, Sam continued: “It must really be an emergency if she actually called you. What did she say?”

Swallowing the urge to argue and smack his little brother’s righteous grin off his face – mostly because fighting would take too much time, but also because Dean knew that Sam was right – he nodded and allowed himself one sardonic glare before busying himself with his jacket. “Didn’t say much. Just that she’s in trouble. And she’s not too far away,” he added, checking the address on his hand. “So come on. Let’s go.” He tapped impatiently with his foot, because he knew it annoyed Sam. Small victories.

“Weird,” Sam replied, ignoring Dean’s attempt to rile him up. It was just the adrenaline in Dean’s body trying to pick a fight. He wasn’t even sure if Dean was aware of it. “Y/N usually explains what… Hm, you sure it was really her?”

“What do you take me for? Jesus, Sam, I know my Y/N –“ He slammed his mouth shut. You weren’t his Y/N any more.

Holding up his hands in a peace offering, Sam nodded towards the door. “Okay, okay. Let’s go,” he said with sympathy in his voice. If he was lucky, he would get his brother back soon. Almost a whole year of sulking was starting to take its toll.

The fields rushed past the window as Dean sped through town after small town. He was going at least twice as fast as he should have, but Sam couldn’t bring himself to remind him to take it slow. There was a dark sort of determination to his brother he hadn’t seen in a long time, and he knew that no good would come from saying anything.

Outside, the sky was darkening, turning a cool shade of cobalt blue. Almost ten hours had passed since the phone call, and they had heard nothing more. They were getting closer, and Dean was getting antsy in his seat. What if she was seriously hurt? What if… she was dead? Would he be able to live with that guilt weighing down his shoulders?

“Relax,” Sam said, putting his hand on Dean’s arm. “She’ll be fine. Y/N always lands on her feet.”

“Yeah, but what if –“

Sam shook his head. “No use in what ifs. We’ll be there in a few, then we’ll see –“

Dean gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned bright white, and growled. “I swear to whatever god is listening: if anyone so much as laid a hand on her…” He never finished his threat, because the farm came into view, and he turned off the road, parking the impala in the darkness behind a row of trees.

He was out of the car and fetched his gun and a machete for good measure and marched across the road before Sam even got two feet on the ground. “Hey, wait up,” he whisper-shouted, jogging after Dean. “Take it easy, brother. We don’t know what we’re dealing with. Let’s not barge in there and make everything worse.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but he slowed down too. “Fine. What do you suggest, Professor Mastermind?”

“I don’t know,” Sam replied with a snort and a shake of his head, “but let’s at least take the time to look around.”

The farm was dark. No lamps on outside, and the air was filled with a pressing silence. In the back of Dean’s head the same feeling as before, that something was off, woke, and he took a quick peek in a window. It was a kitchen, and it was empty. Not even a trace of being lived in; at least not that he could see in the faint light from the shining moon.

Sam tried the door on the right. It swung open with a soft creak, and Dean gestured for Sam to stand back, pointing his gun around the corner. Inside it was warm and stuffy. Like the house had been sealed for months. But there was a small sound coming from somewhere – a thumping, or maybe it was just the pulse in Dean’s ears. He crept along the wall, keeping his steps light in case the floor was loud, Sam on his tail.

Across the hall they saw a tiny, flickering light. There’s a shadow moving back and forth, and two voices whispering together, but it’s impossible to make out what they’re saying.

The Winchesters moved silently across to the door, like the ghosts they sometimes hunted, and Dean took a quick glance before retreating, almost knocking Sam over. He held up two fingers and then pointed to the room. Sam tilted his head in a silent question. What kind of monsters? Dean shrugged. There was no visible signs, to his eyes they looked like ordinary humans. But then he heard their voices and he knew they weren’t.

“Lower your voice,” one of them rasped, the edge of the sound prickling like static coming from an old TV. “Didn’t you hear the door? They’re here.”

The second man – creature? – grumbled, and huffed in response.

“See? I told you, they’d be here if she called.” In a horrifying twist, its voice transformed into your lovely tone. “Please, Dean, I need you.” It giggled. “Imagine, dude, we’re going to be the ones. The ones who killed the Winchesters. Boss ain’t got nothing on us now.”

The hairs on Dean’s neck rose in disgust. He’d been tricked, and they had dared to use you to lure him into their trap. Baring his teeth, he sucked in a breath and motioned for Sam to follow him. Whatever these things were, they were gonna regret messing with him.

The creatures didn’t notice them immediately when they stepped into the room, and just as he was about to pull the trigger, a movement caught his eyes, and he gasped loudly. You were there. Bloodied and bruised, but very much alive, and the sight made his stomach spin. You were stumbling across the floor, carrying something heavy, and the only reason he didn’t run to your side was that Sam held him back.

“Y/N!” Dean blurted out, causing your head to snap up, fixing your eyes on him, and lose sight of the creatures. They heard him, of course, and sprung into action. Fast as lightning, one of them leapt over the floor and grabbed you by the hair, forcing you to your knees, while the other one vaulted over Sam, gracing him with long claws.

With a pained groan, you twisted in the creature’s grip and swung your heel upwards, catching it in the temple, sending it flying into a bookshelf.

A shot rang through the room and the one who attacked Sam cried out in pain, but it got back on its feet and stalked towards Dean, whose gun was still smoking.

“Gotta take their heads off,” you grunted, wrapping whatever you were carrying around the creature’s neck and tightening with more force Dean thought was possible. The head suddenly burst off with a loud pop, and a thick green and yellow liquid sprayed over you like a fountain.

“Dean!” Sam yelled, kicking the remaining creature hard in the chest. It stumbled backwards, just in range of Dean’s machete, and he swung it, easily separating the head and body. A similar spray washed over him, and evaporated, leaving a dried coat of monster entrails on his face. But he didn’t particularly notice, because you were supporting yourself on a table, wiping your face free of goo, and the way the candlelight danced in your hair made it look like the glittering ocean at night.

Sam brought him out of his reverie. “What the hell was that? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Mimics,” you replied with a shrug. “Sorta like shapeshifters. As far as I can tell, they lure unsuspecting victims by mimicking the voices of loved ones, then feed off their brainwaves or something. Been tracking them for a while, and I was just about to finish them off when one of them caught scent of me. Been locked up for a few days trying to come up with a good plan.”

You took a few uncertain steps and wrapped your arms around Sam’s waist. “It’s good to see you, Sasquatch,” you mutter, inhaling the familiar scent of family and safety. Inside you, every emotion battled to float to the surface at once. It was hard to breathe properly and ignore the other Winchester simultaneously.

“I’ve missed you,” Sam said and kissed the top of your head. “And Dean has too.”

His words made you look up, then over at his brother – your once lover – who stood stiffly waiting his turn, and when Sam let go, he swooped in and gathered you up into a bone-crushing hug. There was so much you wanted to say then, but you couldn’t find a single word to fit in your mouth.

“You’re okay,” Dean mumbled into your hair, more to himself than to you, and you nod, wanting nothing more than to go back to the beginning of the year when everything was alright, and you had no idea of the suffering to come.

Dean let you go and stepped away, leaving the two of you in an awkward stance just looking at each other.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you turned slightly so you didn’t have to look him in the face. Instead your eyes caught Sam’s, who seemed to encourage you to turn back to Dean.

You bit your lip and glanced over to Dean, who looked like he had a million words just waiting to burst from his lips. But instead, he just repeated himself: “You’re okay,” like it was a miracle and a marvel to see you on your feet.

A sour taste rose from your stomach. Did he really think so little of you? “Of course I’m okay,” you snarled, to the obvious surprise of Dean, but you didn’t let that distract you. Instead you continued: “I’ve been in this life even longer than you, remember? I know how to take care of myself –“

“Well, evidently not,” Dean muttered, flicking his eyes over the dead bodies oozing on the floor.

“What?” Your voice was dripping with ice cold calm, and Sam took a step backwards. You were going to eviscerate his brother.

Dean didn’t seem to notice. “Didn’t look like you were doing too good back there,” he said, pointing towards the dark room. “Looks like we got here just in time –“

“I had everything under fucking control,” you spat, eyes narrowing from his nerve. “You were the one who gave me away. If you hadn’t stumbled in like a drunk bison, and then proceeded to yell my name, I’d have the mimics strung up and still had time to eat a midnight snack back at the casino.” Shaking your head, you practically growled. “Goddamn famous Winchesters always wanted by every monster out there. Just… just leave me alone.”

Snatching a sweater from the chair, you stomped towards the door and the chill outside air, ready to forget about Dean and his stupid, gorgeous face – again.

In the blink of an eye, he was by your side, grabbing your wrist and blocking your exit. “Don’t leave,” he pleaded, those sad eyes almost breaking your resolve to go back into hiding.

“Don’t le… Really, Dean? Now you want to talk? What happened to wanting me gone and out of your hair, huh? I was only a liability – a, a burden anyway. I’m just doing what you wanted. Let me go!” You twisted free from his grip and stood back with your arms crossed over your chest.

His eyes widened, and he swallowed hard. “Jesus, no, Y/N… how could you think –“

Flinging your arms out, you set a pair of cold eyes in him. “Then WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO THINK, DEAN?” You didn’t mean to yell, but there was a lot of anger rushing out through your mouth. “You told me to fuck off, then you left and took every sense of belonging and family with you, leaving me alone again. I HAD NOTHING, DEAN. NOTHING! Then you came along, offering me the world, and I thought I finally found somewhere… someone… and then…” Shutting up before your voice cracked, you pinched the bridge of your nose trying to force the tears back by sheer willpower.

Dean’s eyes glistened, and he sniffed. Or maybe you imagined it. You weren’t sure any more. But he put his hands on your upper arms and squeezed. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed, and it sounded sincere. “I’m sorry,” he said again, this time a little louder. “I was an idiot. Thought it would… that it would be easier, that I protected you by leaving, but I was wrong. As usual. Please. Just don’t leave. I don’t care if you don’t love me any more, I just want to be with you – “

Sam looked from Dean to you and then back. He’d never heard him sound so vulnerable, and he hoped you’d forgive him, for selfish reasons, he thought with a brief grimace; he liked you, but even more, he liked what you did to his brother. And he was so ready to have his little family complete again.

Deciding to not interfere, he slowly backed out of the room. There was a lot of cleaning up to do. He might as well get going, and with a last glance at the two of you over his shoulder, he went in search of something to dig a grave with.

Noticing vaguely that you were alone with Dean, you allowed yourself to lower your defences. “You broke my heart, Dean. I loved you. I… love you, and I don’t think I’ll survive another… another…” Clearing your throat, your squared your shoulders and lifted your head. “I’m not some doll you can discard when you’re done.”

“I know,” he said, looking into your eyes, letting go of your arms. “And I won’t stop you if you really want to leave. But…” His eyes brimmed over, and tears streamed down his face. “I want you to know that I still love you. That I’ll always love you. If you ever need me, just call. As long as there’s a breath left in me I’ll jump in the car and drive to you. Wherever you are. I…” His voice broke, and his shoulders slumped forward. Looking at his boots, he fiddled with his left thumb.

After a few long seconds’ silence, he looked up, almost expecting you to be gone, but now, given the choice, you found that you couldn’t. You were still there. Still standing in front on the man you would give your soul to save.

“How do I know I can trust you?” you asked. The words punched you in the chest like a boxer going for knock out.

“I… I don’t know how to… convince you,” Dean began, speaking softly, as if he’d just found his voice after a long time of illness. “Give me a chance to, to prove it to you,” he added, wincing from the horribly cliché scene, and he hesitantly took your hand. “Please.” Gone was the familiar cockiness in his eyes, there were no traces of confidence in his face. Only sorrow, and a faint trace of hope.

You closed your eyes and breathed in his scent. This was what you had been dreaming of: a second chance. Weaving your fingers into his, you opened your eyes again and blinked away the tears that clung to your lashes. When you leaned towards him, Dean immediately opened his arms so you could rest your head on his chest. Feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders, you whispered into his jacket: “Let’s try again.”

Tagging my wonderful crew:

@awesomeahwu @brynleewolfe @funwithfanfics @babeinthebowtie @savingapplepie-eatingthings @winchesterprincessbride @savvythedork @littlegreenplasticsoldier @youtubehelpsmesurvive @blackcherrywhiskey @mrswhozeewhatsis @schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte @aiaranradnay @fandomismyspiritanimal @barneybrigade @mogaruke @wstrumpel @whovianextrodinare @hennessy0274-blog @sushi-senpai-chan @tardis-is-mine @badasssweetsrebel @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @megasimpleplan4ever @bitch-i-am-a-dean-girl @iruff685 @kathaswings

#dean x reader #angst-ish #dean winchester #supernatural #fan fiction #spn fanfic #try again #writing is hard #reader insert

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just-jordie-things · 7 years

Text

Mommies - Allison Argent

You walked through the kindergarten hall, admiring the cute finger paintings and drawings of animals (mostly puppies, but you did see a very elaborate scribble of a dragon) on the walls. You smiled here and there, recognizing a few names. Your daughter, Maria, and a few of her friends names. The twins, Claudia and Annakin Stilinski, Jonathan McCall, Abigail Raeken, and Danny Dunbar. Why Liam and Hayden chose Danny, was purely because Liam thought it was funny to say ‘Danny Dunbar’.

But you weren’t here to inspect the amateur artwork, you were here to pick up your little girl. School would be over in a few minutes, and usually your wife was the one to get her, but you got off work early and saw an opportunity to surprise Maria. As you neared her classroom, the duckling class, the bell rang. You smiled watching all the five and six year olds putting on their backpacks with a little struggle, and you stepped aside as they came out the door. Then you went in.

“Mommy!” Maria looked up from where she was sprinkling a mountain of glitter, and ran over to you. You smiled wide, and lifted her up in the air, spinning her around.

“How was class today munchkin?” You asked, and peppered her cheeks with kisses, making her giggle.

“It was fun! The eggs are going to hatch soon!” You looked over to where she pointed at the chicken eggs, and smiled back at her.

“That’s great kiddo!” You said, and set her down so she could go collect her things. You watched her put on her jacket, all by herself, and even zipped it up.

“Hello” You turned upon hearing a female voice, and turned to see who must be her teacher.

“Oh hello, you must be Ms Louise” You said kindly, and held out your hand, she shook it with a smile.

“Hello, I just wanted to come say, if the parent or guardian isn’t picking her up, that there needs to be a signed form from the parent or guardian saying that it is alright to take her” The older woman said, and you furrowed your brow for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh.

“Oh my apologies, usually Allison picks her up, but I’m Mrs Argent” You introduced.

“Mrs Argent?” You nodded.

“That’s me, it’s a pleasure to meet you, we hear all about you at home” You said sweetly, and the woman just nodded.

“I see...”

“Mommy I’m ready” Maria said, toddling back over to you and her teacher.

“Well how lucky are you dear... to have... two....mommies” Maria just shrugged her shoulders.

“Honey, why don’t you wait in the hallway, I’ll be right there” You said, and Maria nodded, going out to the hall.

“Ms...Mrs... Argent, I’m slightly concerned for Maria’s...um.. well being, I suppose”

“And what sparked this concern?” You asked, defensively crossing your arms.

“Well, try and see it from her point of view. A child with two mommies, in a classroom of children who learn to play house with a mommy and a daddy” Ms Louise said, putting her palms together and moving her hands about as she spoke.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, ma’am, but this ahem, concern, you show for my daughter, has nothing to do with Allison and I’s marriage, does it?” You asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow. “Because it would be highly inappropriate if my five year old’s teacher is telling me that the relationship I have is wrong. I don’t believe that’s your place” You said.

Ms Louise said nothing, as expected, and you pulled a tight smile, raising both of your eyebrows.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a daughter and a wife at home to attend to” You said, nodding curtly and heading out of the room.

“Mommy was I in trouble?” Maria asked, and you took her hand, and her My Little Pony backpack.

“On the contrary, you are not. In fact. We are going to go get ice cream, and bring some home to mama too alright? How does that sound?” Maria squealed with excitement, which made you smile. “Come on munchkin” You tugged on her arm, and lifted her up, swinging the backpack onto your shoulder. “You know I love you so much, right?”

“Of course mommy we’re getting ice cream” Maria giggled back.

“Your mother and I care about you so, so much. Just as much as a mommy and daddy would” You said, and she smiled at you.

“I know mommy” She said in a soft, sweet voice. “I don’t need a daddy” You were stunned too much to say anything. “I know most of the other people have a mommy and a daddy, but I think having two mommies is more fun” You were tearing up, and hid it by kissing her hair.

“Don’t tell Uncle Scott and Uncle Stiles, but two mommies is way more fun” You said, holding a finger to your lips.

“Surprise mama!” Maria yelled excitedly upon handing Allison a hot fudge sundae.

“Ooh, and what is the special occasion?” Allison asked, pecking your lips and taking the treat.

“Gross!”

“Hush munchkin” You laughed, ruffling Maria’s hair. “Now, eat at the table so there’s not a mess” You said, and she scurried off to the kitchen.

“How was your day?” Allison asked.

“Pretty slow actually. Scott and I spent a lot of the time playing poker” You chuckled, and Allison rolled her eyes.

“I love that you guys get to work together and hang out, but I feel like you get nothing done” She laughed, and you shrugged.

“Well, I met Maria’s teacher” Allison’s eyes widened slightly, but enough that you noticed. “Five minutes with the woman, yikes. I don’t know how you keep calm”

“I’ve learned a great amount of control” Allison said, sitting down across from your daughter, and diving into her sundae. “You know my mother was never on the gay boat with me” Allison said. “I’ve learned to keep other people’s opinions away from my own”

“That sounds no-know-noble” Maria said, testing out her newly learned word. Allison giggled.

“She is my knight in shining armor” You winked at the huntress, and Allison winked back.

“So you’re like.. the princess” Maria lit up upon calling you so. But you snorted.

“Girly, I’m the freaking queen”

“Language” Allison scolded you.

“I’m sorry, I don’t recall saying a curse word” You teased.

“Yeah mama, mommy’s the freaking queen!” Maria burst into a fit of giggles.

“Hey, you watch your mouth young lady” You said, pointing an accusatory finger at the girl. “We don’t use that kind of foul language in this house” Allison sighed loudly, and shook her head.

“My girls are crazy. I don’t know how I put up with you two” You smiled, and leaned over to kiss the top of her head.

“Because you love us” Allison waved a dismissive hand.

“Yeah yeah”

You were all ready for bed, in sleep shorts and a tee shirt, while Allison was in the bathroom brushing her teeth.

“So” She said with a mouthful of toothpaste. “How bad was Ms Louise?” You shrugged, pulling back the covers to your bed.

“She could’ve been worse” you said. “I kinda put her in her place. Reminded her where our hard earned taxes go” Allison chuckled, and washed her mouth out.

“Well at least you didn’t rip out her hair extensions” She said, and you smirked.

“Hey, if Maria wasn’t there, a lot more would’ve went down” You said. “Oh takes me back, you and me, the pack, fighting the bad guys” You sighed. “You were so sexy with those leather jackets” Allison chuckled. “Don’t worry babe, you still are” You pecked her lips sweetly, and Allison sighed in content as you both climbed into bed.

“Who knew our monsters would turn into homophobic kindergarten teachers?” She asked, and you took one of her hands, intertwining your fingers together above the blankets.

“I love you” You told her softly, and Allison smiled her angelic smile.

“I love you too” She said, before leaning forward and placing a long kiss on your lips. “And I love what we have here, this family of ours” You nodded in agreement.

“Mm me too” You hummed, and pulled her closer, until she laid her head on your chest, you lying on your back. Allison’s arm encircled over your stomach, and she hummed into your chest.

“I do sort of miss the old days. Fighting the bad guys, saving the town” You smiled, running a hand through her short locks of chocolate brown ringlets.

“Yeah... those were good times. High schoolers by day, badass team by night” Your smile grew a little. “Werewolves and banshees and hunters oh my” Allison shook her head. “Oh.., but you know the worst one?”

“Um...void?”

“Hell no, Stiles was never hotter” Allison burst out laughing. “Jesus I swear he made me straight for a good three days”

“Tell that to Lydia” You shook your head. “Yeah well some day you’ll be drunk and that little confession will come out, and you’ll never be able to take it back”

“Ha. My lips are sealed”

“Sure, you say that now. But twenty bucks that Stiles won’t let you live it down” You just rolled your eyes. “Anyways, what was the worst one?”

“That stalker kid that was obsessed with you”

“Matt-”

“Don’t say the twerp’s name” You growled, and Allison chuckled. “I remember beating the living shit out of him” Allison rolled her eyes.

“Yeah yeah, you just loved bragging about that, only all of sophomore year”

“Hey, the only reason my senior quote wasn’t ‘I beat the shit out of Matt Daeheler’ was because he died, and I didn’t want to be suspended”

“Yeah well my grandfather drowned him. He’s gone now”

“God I just wish I’d been there” You sighed.

“You’re sick”

“I’m a dreamer” You said with a giggle to childlike giggle that just didn’t fit the conversation.

“Well maybe someday, something bad will happen and we can pull out your crossbow again” Your eyes lit up and you looked down at her.

“You mean it?” You asked hopefully, and Allison smiled beautifully with a nod.

“For your pent up anger, I do hope something attacks this town”

You both laughed, and you held her tightly and closer, as you both grew more tired.

“Goodnight” You hummed, watching her eyes flutter shut.

“Goodnight love” Allison whispered back. It was quiet for a few moments, and your next murmur was barely heard. But Allison caught it, as your lips moved against her forehead.

“That Matt kid was a little fucker though”

And you fell asleep with smiles plastered on your faces.

i could use a request, if anyone has any ideas? xoxo ~ jordie

#teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf scenario #teen wolf x reader #allison #argent #allison argent #allison argent x reader #allison argent imagine #allison argent scenario #allison argent fanfiction #crystal reed #crystal reed imagine #crystal reed x reader #crystal reed scenario #crystal reed fanfiction

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brookeap3 · 7 years

Text

Post-its and Paperclips New Years Eve

Only a day late! Woohoo! Happy New Year to all of my fellow Outlaw Queen shippers! I hope this year is a great one for all of you and that you enjoy this little continuation of this fic done for @onceuponanadvent! Cover by @ninzied

The invitation comes by way of a post-it stuck to her desk monitor when she walks into her office Thursday morning. New Years Eve? Be my date? It has a dopey grin crossing Regina’s face as the corners of her mouth tip up. Robin. They've been communicating through the little square sticky notes for the last week, one on her desk every morning, slipped into one of her files during an office meeting, there’d even been one stuck to a to-go cup from her favorite coffee shop mid-afternoon yesterday.

Things like; You look gorgeous in that blouse today and How can I focus on Gold with you sitting across from me? to You taste even better than the coffee. Each one leaves her giddy, and she scribbles plenty back to him. Are you trying to charm me, Locksley? and That tie’s working for you today, even It’s a shame there’s no mistletoe around...

It’s entirely inappropriate, to flirt this way during working hours, and a few of their coworkers have begun to whisper about it, about them, but it’s been so long since Regina has felt anything like this bubbling excitement she can’t bring herself to truly care.

“Something catch your eye?”

Robin’s voice sounds from the doorway and Regina’s head shoots up, grin widening when she sees him leaning against the jamb, hands tucked behind his back, watching her read his note, and she chuckles at him. “Interesting inter office memo.” She retorts playfully.

“Oh really?” Robin returns, taking a few steps further into her office until he’s standing on the other side of her desk. “I don’t believe I got that one. Anything I should know?”

There’s a twinkle in his eye, and Regina does her best to stifle a groan when he bites his lower lip in that way that drives her crazy.

It comes so naturally. The flirting. She’s surprised they’d never realized their attraction to one another before now. But then again, they’d been too busy insulting and avoiding one another to really give it much thought. Now though, it’s hard for them to do anything but, to keep up appearances for the sake of professionalism when all either of them want to do is kiss each other until they’re breathless. It’s rather distracting actually.

“An exclusive meeting. One I’m in the midsts of considering if I’ll accept or not.” Comes her joking reply as she wiggles her eyebrows at him.

Robin hums consideringly, “Perhaps this will sway you one direction or the other.” He shifts his arms from behind his back, flourishing a piece of paper that he presents to her and Regina takes it with an amused smile on her face. It’s one of Roland’s drawings, of her and Robin and himself and the big ball in Time’s Square. A formal invitation to join them for New Years, the request written in big letters over the top of the page and signed with his name at the bottom. Regina’s heart inflates as she studies the colorful lines. She’s completely fallen for this man’s child in ways she never could have imagined.

Spending Christmas with him and Robin, with their closest friends, had been one of the best experiences she’s had in years. All of them had made her feel so welcomed and accepted. They’d gone to Robin’s place and she’d watched Roland excitedly tear through his presents from Santa from her place beside Robin on the couch, sipping coffee and snuggling beside him. She and Roland had played with his new set of lincoln logs while Robin had cooked them breakfast, building their own little village before indulging themselves with eggs and french toast.

She’d gone home for a few short hours, only long enough to shower and dress in fresh clothing, taking a bit more thought and care for her appearance with the prospect of Robin’s appreciative glances for the rest of the evening. By the time she’d returned the house had been crawling with men laughing and joking, a few of their girlfriends gathered in groups of twos and threes here and there. Robin had introduced to her John and Will, his closest friends since college, and Regina had been pleasantly surprised that she’d hit it off so well with them, that they’d seemed to accept her without question. It had been nice to feel a part of such a large group. She’d never really had that growing up or in her adult life.

And the kisses Robin had snuck under the mistletoe throughout the night had been quite pleasant as well. Regina’s discovered that she’s a bit addicted to them, and the way he wraps an arm around her waist to pull her close, peppering light kisses along her brow, how he strokes his fingers through her hair and whispers how beautiful she is into her ear.

It had been a perfect day.

Lifting her gaze from the colorful drawing to meet Robin’s again, Regina grins. “Well who can resist an invitation like that?” She asks, though her eyes glance back to the post-it that she’s left lying on the desk, at Robin’s messy scrawl asking her to be his date and Regina has to admit that she’d been charmed by the cute note even before the drawing.

She smiles up at him, glancing quickly out into the hallway, can hear people milling about, catching up on how they’d spent their last evening or asking questions regarding their current projects. Still, she rounds her desk to take a few steps closer to him, not enough to be touching, but enough that there’s a miniscule amount of space between their bodies, teasing him as she looks up at him from beneath her lashes. “I would love to be your date for New Year’s, Robin.”

He grins, that gleeful look lighting up his entire face at her acceptance, and Regina’s heart trips over in her chest knowing she’d been the one to put that expression on his features. “Wonderful.” He replies, eyes darting down to her lips with clear intention.

They are at work, however, and the last thing they need is for someone to wonder by her open door and see them lip locked, no matter how much Regina may want to kiss him. So he turns away from her for a minute, quickly striding over and closing the door to give them a margin of privacy before he’s back in front of her, drawing her into his embrace.

Then his mouth is meeting hers in a deep kiss, his palm pressed against the small of her back to pull her against his body as he cups her cheek with his other hand. Their lips opening and parting as Regina lets Robin sweep his tongue into her mouth, doing the same to him. She can taste the mint from his toothpaste, mixed with the dark roast he enjoys, and it’s delicious, has her letting out a quiet groan and wrapping her arms around him.

When they pull apart, Robin grins down at her, clearly pleased. They stay that way, Robin’s arms locked around her, fingers laced at the bottom of her spine, Regina’s looped around his neck as she leans back against the edge of her desk.

“So, what are your plans exactly?” She asks out of curiosity. Most people typically go out to celebrate the new year, but he has Roland to think about, and Regina has to admit she wouldn’t mind spending the night with the adorable dimpled child as well as his father.

“We’re having a party at our house, actually. Same group of people you met on Christmas.”

Regina laughs and questions, “Again? Aren’t you just the social butterfly. Hosting twice within a week.” She’s only teasing him, but the faint blush that rises to Robin’s cheeks pleases her greatly.

“Yes, well, it’s easier with Roland. And we have the space for it.”

Scratching her nails along the back of his neck, just at the bottom of his hairline she tells him, “It’s nice.”

“Roland’s quite excited to see you again as well.” Robin grins at her, “You’re all he’s talked about since Christmas and how much fun he had with you. He was over the moon when I mentioned inviting you to the party. Though he never makes it past eleven o’clock, despite his valiant attempts to watch the ball drop with the rest of us.”

That’s adorable, she thinks, eager to have the opportunity to share it with them this year. “I look forward to spending it with you both. Can’t think of a better way to ring in the new year, actually.” There’s a slight pink tinge to her cheeks as she says it. They’ve only just begun exploring whatever it is that’s between them, and however much she may want them to be a part of this next year of her life, everything’s happened rather fast.

Robin reads her easily and is quick to cup her cheek again, rubbing his thumb along her lower lip affectionately. This romantic interest between them may have hit them both over the head, but after the new side to her he’s witnessed and watching her with his son there is no doubt in his mind that he wants something serious with her. “Neither can we.” He assures, grinning before bending his head to buss his lips against hers one last time. “I better get back to my office though, people will start to talk if we stay in here with the door closed for much longer. Leroy’s imagination is probably running wild with what we could be getting up to.”

He says it teasingly, lifting a single brow, and Regina chortles. “We wouldn’t want that now.” Extricating herself from Robin’s embrace she gently pushes against his chest, tone stern as she orders, “Out with you.” Robin’s laughter echoes throughout her office even as he opens the door again and strides out into the hall, Regina fighting the grin that wants to spread over her face.

Sitting down behind her desk, she powers up her computer, then spots the post-it still lying on the surface beside her purse and smiles, picking it up and slipping it into the upper left-hand drawer of her desk, on top of the pile of all of the other sticky notes he’s left her.

—————

Regina’s heels click on the cement as she strides up the walkway, the light dusting of snow covering it and the mounds shoveled into piles along the edge make her smile. The fluffy white substance now reminds her of one of the best nights she’s ever had. Robin’s home is still lit up for Christmas, the bright, oversized multi-colored lights strung along the gutters and around the windows and garage, giving it a gingerbread house feel. There’s a plastic Santa and Snowman in the yard that she just knows Roland picked out and it makes Regina chuckle as she steps onto the porch.

Sounds of a party already in full swing can be heard coming from the other side of the door and surprisingly enough, she feels a sliver of anticipation building up within her rather than dread at being faced with a crowd. She’s comfortable with these people, Robin’s friends. She’s only met them once, but it was enough to be eager to get to know them better.

Taking a deep breath and smoothing out an invisible wrinkle or two on the dark material of her dress, her red pea coat left unbuttoned as she’s only going from car to front door, she lifts a hand and raps her knuckles against the wood. It’s no more than a minute later than the door is swinging open and those noises that had been muffled previously are magnified tenfold, Robin’s eager face smiling at her in greeting. “Regina! Come in, come in!” He gestures for her to enter and she steps through the threshold as he shuts the door behind her. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Holiday traffic.” She replies by way of an explanation and holds out the bottle of champagne in her hand, offering it to him, “Happy New Year.”

Robin chuckles, accepting the gift. “Thank you. This will be much appreciated. I’m afraid that Will’s already had a bit of a head start on the evening. Ana’s threatened to cut him off and we’ve hours yet to midnight.”

“It’s barely seven o’clock.” She comments, wrinkling her nose.

“Exactly,” Robin laughs, shaking his head. “Here, let me take your coat.” Tucking the champagne bottle into the crook of his arm, he helps her slip off the red material, pulling it down her arms as Regina turns her back to him before spinning back around to face him. Robin’s expression quickly shifts from admiration into one of pure desire as his jaw slackens slightly and his eyes rake up and down her body. “Regina,” he breathes in that husky tone that has a lovely liquid warmth pooling in her belly. “You look absolutely stunning.”

His gaze is enough to have heat spreading through her as she smiles back at him, pinching her bottom lip between her teeth slightly. “Thank you.” She replies, pleased that her outfit is a hit. Her dress hugs every one of her curves, the black body of it flattering with royal blue sleeves that cap off just above her elbows. The collar comes together at her throat, but the bodice is open, forming a deep v that reveals just enough cleavage to warrant Robin’s hungry look.

Standing in his foyer, Regina absorbs Robin’s own appearance. He’s dressed in neat slacks and a light blue button down shirt that brings out his eyes, a deeper navy blazer topping off the ensemble. He looks sexy and hot and Regina wonders briefly how long they will be able to hold out on this crippling attraction between them. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” She flirts.

“Why thank you, milady.” Regina laughs at the endearment, old fashioned as it may be it never fails to charm her coming from his lips. Robin’s gaze flickers upward for a moment before landing back on hers and a mischievous smirk slowly unfolds over his face. A quick glance above her head reveals the mistletoe from Christmas Day is still hanging above the doorway.

Returning her gaze to Robin’s, Regina grins at him, tilting her head slightly to the side in silent permission and then he’s stepping toward her, lowering his mouth to hers. His lips are warm and tempting, rubbing over her own, creating a heat that spreads throughout her, ridding her of the last vestiges of a chill from outside. Releasing her mouth after a few moments, Robin smirks adoringly at her.

“You planned that.” Regina comments, mocking offense when she’s anything but, her lips still tingling from the touch of his own.

“Absolutely.” Robin confirms, and then they’re both laughing softly until an excited shout sounds from a little ways off.

“R’ginaaaaaa!” She hears the squeal come from behind her and quickly turns from Robin to see Roland barreling his way down the hall excitedly just in time for him to wrap his arms around her legs and grin up at her. “You’re here!”

Her heart knocks over in her chest at Roland’s beaming face. She doesn’t know what it is about him that makes him so special, so different from every other child she’s ever met, but a part of her feels a deep pull toward him, as strong as the one she feels toward his father. “Hello, sweetheart.” Regina greets, fluffing her fingers through his mane of dark curls. Kneeling down to his level, she taps a finger on the tip of his nose, grinning at his laugh and tells him, “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year!” He echos, practically vibrating, and Regina wonders how much sugar Robin’s let him consume tonight already. “We’re having a party!” Roland informs her as if she’s unaware of that fact and Regina gasps her excitement, questioning, Really? “Yes! And we have hats and noisemakers and Daddy and I decorated with streamers. Come see!”

He’s gripping her hand in his and dragging her off in the direction of the living room before Regina can get a word in edgewise and Robin watches them go with affection, chuckling when she turns to look back over her shoulder at him. It warms his heart to see how well Roland has taken to her. His son is an excellent judge of character and it would seem that he’s discovered someone to fulfill the role of his new favorite person. Robin can’t say that he blames him really. Not when Regina has rapidly become the same for him.

Turning toward the den to deposit her coat with the rest of the party guests outerwear Robin rests it over the couch in there and then makes his way toward the kitchen. He stores her gift in the fridge then turns to poor her a glass of champagne and another for himself while he’s at it. Letting his gaze drift back and forth from his task at hand and over the counter top to where Regina is sitting on the couch while Roland excitedly holds out different hat options for her to pick from. The standard cone and a headband with silver letters outlining New Years Eve. She chooses the latter and let’s Roland slip it over her dark locks.

“Lady of the hour is here I see.”

Robin shifts his gaze from the two of them to grin at John. “Indeed she is.” He laughs, not even bothering to pretend he doesn’t know what his friend is talking about. Despite the crowd of friends wandering about his house to occupy his attention, Robin’s been glancing toward the door repeatedly and Roland has been asking when Regina would arrive every ten minutes. After Christmas his friends are not unaware of the affection he and his son hold for the woman. John shakes his head at him and turns around to start a conversation with Tuck while Robin picks up their glasses and ventures into the living room.

They’ve moved on to other party favors by the time Robin joins them. Regina placing a set of oversized glasses on the bridge of Roland’s nose that outline 2017 and laughing when they swallow up the boy’s face before sliding right back down. The pair of them laughing at how silly he looks.

Her gaze shifts from Roland to him as he rounds the couch and holds out a glass to her. “Champagne, milady.” Robin offers her the flute before taking the open space beside her.

“Thank you.” Regina replies, sipping the bubbly liquid and letting the flavor explode over her tongue. Robin’s arm lifts to rest behind her on the couch, his fingertips just brushing her shoulder and Regina leans back into him, letting his warmth envelope her while Roland turns back to the coffee table for more festive favors. He holds out a string of beads and Regina gamely bends her neck for him to slip them over her head.

“What do we have here?” Robin asks and Regina lifts her glass for another sip and struggles to keep her lips from twitching while she watches Roland turn his enthusiasm on his father.

“Hats and funny glasses and noisy things!” He exclaims, reaching for a cone shaped New Years hat and holding it out to Robin. “Here, you need one too, Daddy!” Obligingly, Robin takes the paper hat from Roland, placing it on the top of his head and snapping the elastic underneath his chin before winking at Regina and asking Roland how it looks. “Perfect!” The boy declares and then grabs one of the noisemakers, blowing into it and letting out a ringing sound in celebration, all three of them laughing together.

Roland hands out two to each of them and they oblige him by blowing into their own. If it weren’t for the gleeful look on his face every time they do it the things would surely become bothersome, but his tiny little dimples dent his cheeks and neither feel any annoyance at all.

Suddenly, the toddler is turning back to them, studying Robin eagerly. “How long till the ball drops, Daddy?” Roland asks, rocking up and down in anticipation and deflating just a tad when Robin informs him they have quite a while yet.

“But we’ll have plenty of fun before then.” Regina tells him, anxious to return that dimpled smile to his face, and blowing one of the noisemakers between her lips until it uncurls to tickle Roland square in the middle of his chest, his laughter precious. “What’s been your favorite thing about this year, Roland?” She asks as a distraction.

He thinks about it for a minute, serious expression forming on his features as he contemplates the question before those chocolate colored eyes light up and he proclaims, “Meeting you, R’gina!”

It wasn’t at all the answer she had been expecting to come out of him and for a few seconds it takes Regina aback. Emotion wells up within her, a depth of affection for this child that she probably has no right to be feeling so soon. But if she’s honest with herself she’s totally in love with this little boy already and suddenly feels tears prickling at her eyes. Fighting them back, she leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees, grasping Roland’s hands in her own and telling him truthfully, “You’ve been my favorite part of this year too, Roland.”

Robin watches his son’s arms flop around Regina’s neck in a hug and the sight of the two of them is such a wonderful image he thinks his heart might just burst from his chest. When his eyes meet Regina’s over Roland’s shoulder all he can think is how grateful he is for that snow storm last week that had opened up this door for him and his son, for all of them really. It seems it was fate that they’d been brought together the way they had. Two years of working together and a single night had completely altered everything for them.

They watch Roland dash off in the direction of where Tuck and Alan are chatting by the fireplace, casually sipping their beer until the boy snags their attention. Robin turns his focus back to Regina, smiling at her and curling his arm around her shoulders more firmly when she leans back against the couch again. His thumb caresses her shoulder and those dark and fascinating brown irises turn to twinkle at him. “I’m glad you’re here.” Robin tells her.

“Oh really?” Regina hums, swallowing the last bit of her first glass of champagne which is nearly gone now and using it as an opportunity to collect herself. She’s just relaxed and comfortable enough to be feeling bold, extra flirty with him, the weight of her moment with Roland melting away as the alcohol swishes around in her belly. Leaning in closer, their faces only a few inches apart, she asks, “And why is that? For my charming personality or stunning appearance? Or because of Roland’s affections? Oh, I know! It’s the hat isn’t it?” Regina jokes, pointing to the ridiculous band on her head, barely containing her grin.

Robin’s own amusement climbing at this flirtatious, on-her-way-toward-tipsy side of her, he leans in toward her mouth, stopping just shy of pressing his own into it and answers, “All of the above.” Regina’s laughter is music to his ears and then she’s the one connecting their mouths in a relatively chaste, but drawn out kiss that leaves them both wanting more, and Robin wishes they could have a private moment together where he could kiss her properly.

“I’m glad I’m here too.” Regina replies finally when they separate. “You’ve been one of the best parts of my year also.”

“As have you, milady.” They grin at each other like idiots for another minute before Robin plucks her glass from her slender fingers and rocks himself up to his feet. “Looks like you need a refill. I’ll be right back.” Regina nods and settles back into the couch, grinning stupidly at him as she watches him walk away. Tonight is turning out to be even better than she was expecting.

—————

As the hours tick by, inching closer and closer to midnight, Regina feels her entire being relaxing. Each glass of champagne settles pleasurably into her system, every laugh with Roland has her heart swelling, and each time she catches Robin looking at her something in his eyes steals the breath from her lungs. Several occasions already she’s noticed him subtly checking her out and she’s grateful she chose this dress for the evening. Is enjoying teasing him as much as she’s doing the same to herself, and with each passing minute Regina looks forward to sharing a kiss with him at midnight.

She’s wandered into the kitchen in search of the champagne bottle to top off her glass, becoming distracted by the sight of Robin and Roland playing together across the room.

“You know, he's quite smitten with you. This whole week it's been Regina this and Regina that. He's a friendly boy, but I've never seen him take to anyone the way he has you.” John comments, taking a sip of his beer and studying her.

Regina watches them, chuckling when Robin drills a finger into his tummy and Roland lets out a high pitched shriek of laughter. She can feel the grin splitting her face, can't help it before John’s next words register. “The same could be said for his father.”

Her eyes whip back to his instantly to find him observing her watching them, a blush rising to her cheeks. Flickering her gaze back to the pair then back to John, Regina confesses softly, “They aren't the only ones.”

Something in her answer must satisfy whatever hidden question had been behind his words, for he studies her another moment and then nods approvingly. “Good. It's been a long time since I’ve seen him smile at anyone the way he does at you.” And she knows this time he’s referring to Robin alone.

It makes her wonder… about Roland’s mother, Robin’s wife. She knows that she’d passed away when Roland had been a baby, but not much beyond that. They haven’t quite gotten into the serious parts of their past in this budding romance of theirs, despite their conversation about her family on Christmas Eve. Tonight’s not the night for that discussion though, and if there’s anything that Regina is surprisingly positive of it’s that they’ll have an opportunity for it in the future. She doesn’t see either of them going anywhere in her life. Crazy as that may be.

John’s voice breaks through her thoughts, bringing Regina back to the present. “Can I get you another drink?”

She nods, “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

A few minutes later, glass in hand, she makes her way over to Robin and Roland. The boy’s bouncing on the balls of his feet in time with the song playing through the sound system. “What are you two up to without me?” She teases.

“Dancing!” Roland informs her, executing a rather wobbly turn that makes both she and Robin laugh.

“Well then,” Regina sets her glass on the coffee table and holds out a hand to Roland, “May I have this dance?”

He nods his head eagerly and clasps his hand in hers, Regina’s fingers curling around his tiny hands as they begin stepping side to side, rocking their arms back and forth. When the tempo picks up a bit, Regina swoops Roland up onto her hip and wiggles them around, steadying him with a hand on his back and dipping him upside down to a degree to make him squeal.

By the time the song ends and turns into a new one, they are both breathless, giggling at each other until Roland turns his gaze to his father. “Daddy, you dance with R’gina now.”

Happy to oblige, Robin bites his lower lip between his teeth, “Of course, my boy.” and waits for Regina to set him back on his feet before he’s taking her hand in his and tugging her in close to his body before spinning her out and back in. Robin turns them around in a few quick steps and Regina is laughing merrily while Roland claps his hands with the beat and wiggles around himself.

Robin takes both her hands in his and leads her in a few more moves before twirling her beneath his arm and Regina grins up at him when the song ends, taking a moment to catch her breath, “You’re quite the dancer.”

“One of my many talents.” Robin quips with a smirk and then shifts his attention to Roland when he asks if it’s time for cookies yet. Agreeing, the pair of them head toward the kitchen and Regina grabs her glass from the table, letting the cool liquid sate her sudden thirst and plopping down on the couch again.

Not long after, she excuses herself from a conversation with Ana, Will’s girlfriend, for a trip to the bathroom. She’s fought off breaking the dreaded seal as long as she can manage for the night. When she exits the powder room situated near the entrance way of Robin’s home there’s a post-it stuck to the wall opposite her and Regina smirks at the sight of it.

Meet me in the den.

Grabbing the little yellow square, she slinks quietly down the hall and twists the knob, slipping into the room just off the front of the house and shutting the door behind her. Robin’s leaning back against the dark, mahogany desk, and smiles when she enters the room.

“You got my note I see.”

Regina waves the post-it held between her index and middle finger and nods. “Yes. Did you need something?” She questions, one corner of her mouth curving upward as Robin strides toward her, closing the distance between them. He stops a step in front of her, his lovely pine scent filling her nostrils.

“As a matter of fact, yes. This.”

And then he’s taking her mouth with his in a quick and fiery kiss, as if he hasn’t been stealing kisses here and there for the entire night, like it’s been days rather than less than an hour since the last time he’s tasted her. Regina moans into the kiss, arching her back and pressing herself against him, one arm hooking around his neck. His tongue sweeps against hers, toying with it, chasing it with his own as the flavor of her explodes in his mouth.

Robin’s teeth nip at her lip, biting hard enough to have Regina groaning before his tongue moves back in to sooth the slight ache. The action causes little tingles to spread throughout her body. “Mmmmm…” She hums against his mouth, Robin’s hands stroking up and down her sides as their kisses slow a degree.

They make out for a few more moments, noses sliding over cheeks as their heads tilt back and forth, eager for more of each other, more of this heady feeling their kisses produce.

When they eventually part, Regina lets her eyelids flutter open, dreamy expression on her face as she asks Robin, “What was that for?”

He twirls a lock of her hair between his fingers and smiles stupidly, “I just wanted a few minutes alone with you. It’s the first chance I’ve had to kiss you properly all evening.” Regina's smile spreads over her whole face and Robin has a desperate desire to see that expression on her as often as he can manage. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Immensely.” Regina assures him because tonight has been wonderful. The best ending to a year she's had in more than she can remember and it's largely due to this man and his son. She's rather enjoying this turn of the holiday season when she typically spends them alone.

“Good.” Robin's arms lock around her waist, pressing her tightly against him, Regina's hands trapped between their bodies, palms resting on his chest. “No regrets about accepting my invitation then?”

She can tell what he's playing at and smirks, willing to go along with the game. Scrunching up her nose, tiny wrinkle forming between her brows, Regina pretends to mull the question over. In a flirty, teasing tone she replies, “Hmmmm, not yet. The night is young though.”

The full bellied laugh Robin lets out jiggles both of their bodies as he shakes his head. “I'll have to ensure we keep you happy then.” Punctuating his vow by kissing her again, not quite as desperate this time but no less passionate.

All of a sudden the door to the den is crashing open and Roland's excited voice interrupts them. “Daddy, John's doing funny animal noises. Come see!” Chortling, Robin promises Roland he'll be there in a moment and leans in for a quick peck to Regina's lips before letting her go and following his son out of the room toward the direction of delighted laughter.

—————

Despite his valiant efforts to maintain the neverending energy he seems to posses, Roland does not make it to seeing the ball drop this year. Instead, he conks out on the couch with Regina at half past eleven, his head resting in her lap as she brushes her fingers through his hair over and over again.

Honestly, Regina wouldn't mind ringing in the new year just like this, doesn't feel a need to move one bit. But the closer the clock gets to twelve o'clock the louder everyone seems to be getting, the healthy supply of drinks long since kicking in and filters dissipating. Roland would probably be more comfortable in his own bed as well.

So when Robin stands from his perch on the arm of the sofa to take him, Regina doesn't protest as he scoops him up into his arms. The tired toddler doesn't make a peep. “I'm just gonna take him up to bed.” Her reluctance to release him must show on her face though because he's quickly following up his statement with, “Would you like to help?” Regina nods and follows them up the steps to Roland's bedroom.

The two of them spend the next ten minutes tucking him into bed. Untying the laces of his sneakers and setting them aside while Robin retrieves a set of pajamas with fox faces all over them. Regina helps him maneuver Roland out of his sweater and khaki pants into soft cotton. Robin turns on the night light luminary on the table beside the bed, in case Roland should wake up during the night.

Regina can't resist the urge to place a light kiss to Roland's forehead, smoothing her hand over his hair before she and Robin tiptoe silently out of the room, letting the door click shut behind them.

Someone's lowered the volume on the speakers and switched on Ryan Seacrest’s Rockin’ New Year's Eve on the television. Some mediocre pop singer on stage as Robin leaves for a minute to retrieve and refill their glasses. He’s back quickly and the two of them clink their glasses in a silent toast before drinking deeply.

“Thank you for coming.” Robin whispers into her ear, an arm wrapped around her waist to keep her close while Regina snuggles into his side, her head tipping over to rest in the coveted space between shoulder and neck.

Her lips curve against his throat and Regina places a gentle kiss to the lightly stubbled skin there. “Thank you for inviting me.”

They stay that way until the final five minutes to midnight when they shift positions and Robin hugs his arms around Regina from behind, resting his chin atop her shoulder while they watch the hosts on screen, the hundreds of people crowded into Time Square cheering. Everyone has gathered in the living room at this point, all their attention focused on the tv. Will ribbing John for his lack of a date and therefore upcoming kiss while Ana smacks him on the shoulder.

There’s a jolly, anxious atmosphere to the room as the anticipation builds with each passing minute. Only two more to go now. Regina’s manicured nails trace lightly up and down the arm Robin has encircled around her waist, smiling at everyone around her even while her attention is mostly centered around Robin’s warmth surrounding her. She takes another sip of champagne, buzzed off the golden liquid and the man running his nose along her jaw.

One minute.

The group gathers their noisemakers and drinks with equal measure, arming themselves for the celebration when the clock switches between one year and the next. Circling around to face Robin, still wrapped in his arms, Regina smiles at him and slips her fingers through his hair. Then everyone in the room begins counting down around them.

Ten, nine, eight, seven…

Robin squeezes her a bit, already slowly leaning in toward her.

Six, five, four, three…

Her breath catches when his lips are only an inch from hers when he stops, waiting for those final few seconds.

Two, one…

Their lips connect, Robin’s slanting over Regina’s, molding against hers. Sparks seem to erupt from where their mouths meet, shimmering all around them, tiny invisible fireworks of their own and she moans as her head spins. His tongue tickles her for an all to brief moment before Robin pulls away, blue eyes sparkling as they gaze into her own brown ones.

“Happy New Year, Regina.”

Her smile is bright and luminous as she whispers back to him. “Happy New Year, Robin.”

—————

The party has finally wound down, the clock hanging along the far wall signaling it’s well after midnight, several hours into the new year already and Robin’s just closed the door behind the last of his guests, ensuring everyone is piled into cabs or paired up with those assigned to be designated drivers and safely on their way home.

Regina is perched on the arm of the sofa, hands gripping the edge on either side of her hips as she tips her head toward her shoulder and smiles a bit drunkenly at Robin as he comes back into the room. She should probably be going too. It’s late after all. But she’s had such a pleasant evening and she and Robin are truly alone now, no one to question where they’ve slipped off to or little boys to interrupt them and she wants a few minutes with him. Then she’ll go…

“Have I mentioned how incredibly stunning you look tonight?” Robin asks her, a smile of his own gracing his features as he comes to a stop in front of her. His fingers lift to brush back a few locks of hair from her forehead, tucking them behind her ear as the pad of his thumb caresses her cheek slowly, back and forth.

Giggling, ridiculously gratified by his praise, Regina confirms, “You have. Several times in fact.”

Leaning forward, so their noses bump playfully against each other, he whispers, “Perhaps your beauty is growing with each passing hour,” into the space between their lips.

She sincerely doubts that. There’s enough alcohol in her system that Regina knows she’s not as put together as she normally would be, as she had been when she’d walked in earlier tonight and his jaw had dropped. However, the complement has her heart fluttering in her chest like a schoolgirl. It’s almost embarrassing.

Regina shifts her head the other direction, letting it rest in the palm of his hand and replies with an amused smirk, “Charmer.”

Robin shrugs his shoulder good naturedly. “It’s true.” He pauses, “You’re so beautiful, Regina.”

From anyone else she might think the words to be a line, but Regina knows that Robin means it, can hear the sincerity behind them. Maybe it’s just the alcohol swirling around her brain, dulling her senses, but she’s ridiculously pleased with herself, with him. Staring into those clear blue eyes, her gaze drifting over his stubbled jaw, his tempting mouth, and her heart stutters as she whispers, “So are you.” Far too relaxed to be embarrassed by her words.

Music continues to play in the background, nothing overly intrusive, the same volume it’s been at for the better part of the last few hours, but without the steady hum of voices it’s more prevalent. Robin takes a step back, smiling at her with intention in his eyes as he holds out a hand, palm facing upward and asks, “Dance with me?”

It surprises her, shouldn’t, not really. Robin is nothing if not skilled in the romantic gestures department. And quite the dancer as she’d discovered earlier. Still, Regina’s heart rises and swells within her chest as her lips curve upward and she places her hand in his own, letting him pull her to her feet.

Just as Robin draws her in close to his body, flush against one another, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, the song changes to something slow and seductive, Michael Bublé’s voice sounding through the speakers as they begin to gently rock back and forth.

Wise men say only fools rush in

Her hand is tucked against Robin’s chest, his fingers curled around her own, and Regina rests her head on his shoulder as they move in tiny steps, around and around in a circle. Robin’s pine scent is still strong as her nose brushes against the side of his throat, makes her feel safe and content to stay right here, breathing him in. His other arm is curved around her waist, palm pressed to the small of her back, holding her close to him.

But I can't help falling in love with you

The lyrics of the song breach the fog of her addled brain and Regina barely resists letting out a snort. Nothing could be more fitting. For while it’s only been a week since that night in their office, a week of endless flirting and teasing notes, afternoon coffee dates and strings of midnight text messages, Regina feels herself falling for this man. He and his son have captured something within her heart that she hadn’t even known she’d been missing.

Perhaps it’s foolish to dive in head first the way that she has, with a co-worker no less, but in the last week Regina has been happier with him than in longer than she can remember. And she doesn’t want to let that go, refuses to let this chance slip through her grasp.

Shall I stay Would it be a sin

Robin’s mouth lowers to hers, slow and seductive, his lips pressing and molding against her own. The grip he has on her tightens as he pulls her impossibly closer, their movements slowing down, feet barely even shuffling back and forth at this point. Opening his mouth, the tip of his tongue traces lightly along the seam of her lips, urging them open, access that Regina happily grants as Robin deepens the kiss.

Her head is spinning pleasantly, a light, weightless feeling that trickles out through her limbs. A mixture of the champagne she’s been drinking throughout the night and Robin’s heady, addictive kiss. God, he’s a good kisser. His tongue swirls over hers, sweeping through her mouth and drawing her into him, tasting of the chocolate chip cookies he’d shared with Roland earlier in the night and sweet wine and something uniquely Robin.

Regina could drown in him.

If I can't help falling in love with you

“Stay.” Robin murmurs against her temple, placing a light kiss there as his fingers pulse against her waist, his nose running lovingly along the side of her face. “Stay the night with me, Regina.”

Opening her eyes, Regina pulls away from him, looking up into those pleading blue eyes that hold nothing but affection and wonder as they study her and Regina’s heart screams at her that this is exactly where she belongs. Who is she to resist what he’s offering?

Nodding, Regina murmurs quietly, “Alright.”

Relief washes over Robin’s face and then he’s sweeping down and capturing her lips in another kiss, letting his fingers thread through her hair, thumb caressing her cheek. Regina’s arms wrap around Robin’s neck, molding her body to his, and then he’s sweeping her up into his arms, lifting her off her feet, and she can’t contain the breathless laugh that escapes.

When he sets her back on the balls of her feet, Regina smirks up at him and Robin’s hands caress down her arms to take each of her hands, pulling her with him as he walks backward toward the stairs. His eyes never leave hers, desire and anticipation darkening them with every step they take. Excitement builds within Regina as they make their way to Robin’s bedroom.

They tiptoe down the hallway, stopping quietly to peek into Roland’s room, checking on him. The boy is fast asleep, hugging his grey stuffed monkey to his chest, snuggled beneath the covers, and Robin silently shuts the door again, continuing down the hall and twisting the knob of his own door. Leaving Regina standing in the doorway for a moment he strides over to the night stand, flicking on the lamp to cast the room in a quiet glow. Shadows dance across the room, but it’s enough light that they can see one another without being overly bright.

Regina takes a moment to let her attention wander around the room, noting the darkly stained furniture throughout the space, the muted green and brown tones. There are a few of Roland’s drawings framed and hung along the wall and they make Regina smile. It feels like Robin, suits him completely. Shifting her focus back to him she finds him watching her with that grin that makes her breath catch. There’s a hungry look in his eyes as he takes a few slow steps toward her. “What do you think?”

“I like it.” She responds, voice already a touch breathless and Regina chastises herself to pull it together. This isn’t the first time she’s ever been with a man, she shouldn’t be so worked up already. But it’s been a long night of flirty remarks and teasing touches, stolen kisses here and there, and whether she had intended for them to end up here or not, they’ve been slowly working themselves up all evening.

“I’m glad.” He replies, coming to a stop in front of her. Robin’s index finger trails lightly along the neckline of her dress, from her throat, over the swells of her breasts, down to the small v between them. It’s barely a touch at all, but it causes Regina to shiver as he murmurs in a deep, throaty whisper, “This dress has been driving me insane all night.”

“I know.” She grins, her own voice gravely. “That was my intention.”

It makes him laugh, those dimples she’s helpless against creasing his cheeks as he shakes his head at her, “You minx.”

“Is that a problem?” Regina sasses, the corner of her mouth tipping up in a flirty smirk.

Leaning forward Robin lets his forehead rest against hers, their mouths only an inch or so apart as his breath washes over her lips, “Not at all.” And then he’s closing the distance that separates them, molding his mouth to hers, tilting his lips over hers, and Regina loses herself in the feel of him for a few moments as their tongues tangle together.

Nerves skitter along her spine when his hand strokes down her side, outlining her curves and settling over her hip, fingers gripping while his mouth occupies her own. She’s nervous all of a sudden. Shouldn’t be. This is Robin. They’ve been coworkers for years and though this new romance has surprised both of them, Regina has discovered that she trusts him. There’s absolutely no reason for her to have butterflies dancing around in her belly.

He must sense her turn of thought because he pulls his mouth away from hers, runs his thumb along her jaw, just beneath her chin and asks quietly, “You’re sure?”

Something in the way he says it, or perhaps it’s just the way he’s looking at her, understanding and caring, but those nerves settle in Regina’s stomach immediately and she smiles up at him, nods once and replies, “Yes. I want you, Robin.”

He’d shed his blazer earlier in the evening, leaving him in just that button down shirt that Regina has been itching to rid him of for hours now. She lets her hands rest on his shoulders for a moment before they slide down his chest. Hard muscles twitch beneath her touch and Regina bites her bottom lip in admiration at the feel of them beneath her fingers, her nails scratch lightly over his abdomen before sweeping upward again and landing on the top button of his shirt. Her eyes meet his as she slowly slips it through the loop. Inching down to the next one, and the next, again and again until she’s undone every one and can slip the shirt from his shoulders, pushing it down his arms and revealing his toned torso.

Delicately, Regina smoothes the pads of her fingers over the smattering of hair along his chest, trails the tip of her finger in a line down the center and she feels his abs ripple beneath her touch. Fluttering her lashes at him, Regina grins and flirts, “Very impressive, Locksley.”

Robin laughs and kisses her briefly again. Just a quick thing before he’s pulling back and taunting playfully, “My turn, Ms. Mills.”

Regina nods her permission and stands perfectly still as Robin’s hands roam over her body, along the side of her throat, her shoulders, down her biceps. Slowly, he circles around until he’s standing behind her, let’s his gaze roam over the back of the dress. There’s a zipper that runs from collar down the entire back of the dark material and he dances his fingers up the length of it as he leans down to pepper kisses over her neck. He swirls his tongue over her skin, leaving wet trails in his wake as he inches upward to find that spot just behind her ear that makes her knees weak.

Of course he would find it almost instantly. Somehow he seems to know exactly what to do to have her mind clouding. Alcohol still courses through her veins and further helps her to relax as Robin bestows his attentions on her. Ever so slowly, his thumb and index finger pinch the zipper, tugging it down inch by inch at the same time as his mouth finds her earlobe to whisper seductively, “I’ve been picturing peeling you out of this dress since the moment you stepped through the door.”

Her entire body shivers as Robin punctuates his words with a light nip to her lobe between his teeth. Sliding the zipper halfway down her back, he stops just above the curve of her ass, revealing the expanse of her back to him and Robin hums appreciatively as he slides his hands over the newly exposed skin. Then he’s circling back around to face her. His movements remaining slow, he unhooks the collar to reveal the hollow of her throat and then dips his head to circle his tongue over her flesh there.

Regina’s skin tingles everywhere Robin’s lips touch, growing as his mouth ventures down her chest, peppering kisses over her skin before he’s pushing her dress over her shoulders and down her arms, letting it pool to the floor. Straightening, Robin takes a moment to let his gaze roam over her form.

She’d chosen a lacy lingerie set, in a deep plum color. The material of her bra is nearly see through, her already hardened nipples clearly visible through the sheer lace, and Robin groans at the sight of that alone. The swells of her breasts rise above the edges and he can’t wait to have them in his palms, to squeeze and knead at them. His eyes continue down her flat torso to the narrow strip of silk and lace at her hips in a matching color and he feels his stomach tighten with desire.

He’s not sure how he’s gotten this lucky, to be here with this incredible woman, granted the permission to touch her to his heart's content, but Robin is beyond grateful for whatever it was he did to have this woman brought into his life.

Reaching out his hands, he runs his palms over her skin, tugging her closer to him until she’s pressed against him and he can take her mouth with his. Regina’s fingers sneak their way between their bodies, deftly unhooking his slacks, pushing them off Robin’s hips and lightly rubbing her hand over his very obvious desire through his boxers. Robin lets out a low groan at her touch and scrapes his teeth along her lip.

Eager to draw the sound from him again, Regina presses her hand against him more firmly, her touch becoming bolder with each stroke up and down the hard length of him. Robin steadily rocks his hips against her hand as he kisses her with fervor until he abruptly parts their mouths, breathing labored when he drops his forehead to hers. “Regina…”

Curving her lips upward into a smile Regina taunts innocently, “Yes?” Her grip shifts to rest her hands on either side of his hips, the tips of her fingers dipping beneath his waistband.

Robin's fingers swirl over the skin of her back, creeping their way upward toward the clasp of her bra, toying with it as he draws back enough to look her in the eye. “As gorgeous as you are in this...I think it's time it goes.” With that, he deftly frees the hooks, letting the plum colored straps slip down her arms before pulling the material from her chest and tossing it aside. Robin's eyes darken as his gaze roams over her, “So beautiful.”

Standing before him, Regina waits for Robin to move, his steady gaze drifting over her. Her body feels like it's buzzing, whether from the champagne earlier or anticipation she doesn't know, probably both, but Regina isn't sure how much longer she can wait to have him.

Warm hands reach out to cup her breasts, thumbs flicking over her nipples, teasing, and Regina moans, over sensitive. Smirking at her reaction, Robin lowers his head and latches his lips around one of her breasts. His tongue swirls over her, sucking steadily while his other hand continues to massage her breast. It feels wonderful, amazing. Regina’s hands find their way into Robin’s hair, anchoring herself as sensations swirl through her.

He switches to the other breast, bestowing the same attentions to that one until Regina is arching her back and trying desperately to find a bit of relief for the ache between her thighs. Granting her a bit of reprieve, Robin slips a hand between her legs, rubbing at her over the silk of her panties. Groaning, he releases her breast with a wet pop and mutters, “God, you’re soaked, Regina.”

She doesn’t doubt it, not with the how much she wants him and how her body has reacted to his touches already. “Mmhmm” She agrees, eyes closed as she focuses on how amazing Robin’s hand feels against her. Hooking his fingers around the waistband of her panties, he draws them down over her hips, kneeling before her as Regina steps out of them.

And then she is blessedly bare in front of him and Robin once again thanks his lucky stars for being here with her. “Bloody gorgeous.” He mutters before swooping in to drag his tongue through her folds, lapping up a bit of the wetness that has gathered there. Regina moans, her head falling back, hair draping to tickle between her shoulder blades.

Intent on his task and drawing more of those deep, throaty moans from her, Robin sucks at her clit. Two of his fingers stroke through her folds before slipping inside her, thrusting up into her. It works. Regina mewls her pleasure, hands gripping almost painfully at his hair as she anchors herself to him. “Oh god, Robin, that feels… mmmmm… so good.” He scrapes his teeth lightly over her sensitive bud, swirling his tongue around it quickly after then wraps his lips around it once more.

For the next few minutes he sucks and licks at her, fingers arching inside her and hitting that spot within her that has delicious bursts of pleasure exploding every time Robin finds it. Regina feels her body tightening, fighting its way toward orgasm. As amazing as his mouth feels, she wants more, wants him. Her voice is raspy as Regina licks her lips and finally opens her eyes to look down at him. “Robin, I — oh, yes.” Hips rocking against his mouth of their own accord Regina struggles to finish her thought. “I want you. Now. Inside me.”

Robin sucks at her clit for another moment before pulling back to look up at her. Those gorgeous blue eyes so dark they appear nearly navy in color as he nods and then places a few kisses over her lower stomach on his way back up her body, fingers slipping out of her.

Their mouths meet in a fierce kiss and Regina can taste herself on his tongue, groans as her arms band tightly around his neck and her body molds to his. Her breasts are pressed to his chest, nipples hard points that the wiry hair on his chest tickles. Biting her lower lip between his teeth, Robin tugs and then releases it, panting a bit.

He’s hard as a rock, aching for her, desperate to feel her. Moving quickly, Robin sheds himself of his boxers, kicking them off his ankles before gripping her hands and walking backward until the back of his knees hit the bed and he plops down. Regina smirks at him, gaze darting down to where his cock is standing at attention. “Apparently I’m not the only one that’s eager.” She teases.

“God, no.” Robin laughs, voice a touched strained as he tries to contain himself when her soft hands wrap around him, stroking up and down his shaft a few times, swiping her thumb over his head, before releasing him and climbing into his lap. She takes his mouth with hers, the both of them sighing as his cock is now nestled between her folds, rubbing against her clit as Regina rocks her hips and their tongues sweep into each other’s mouths.

They stay that way for a minute or two before they fall back to the mattress laughing and then Robin is rolling them over, one hand resting beside Regina’s head as he hovers over her. Bending his head, Robin kisses her again, then drags his tongue over her jaw, down her throat to suck at the vulnerable skin there. Regina moans, “Robin—“ They’ve teased each other enough and both of them are more than ready.

Chuckling, he nips at the joint where her neck and shoulder meet and then he’s stretching over toward the nightstand. Sliding the drawer open, he quickly pulls out a foil wrapper, sitting back on his heels as he rips the packet open and quickly covers himself. He leans over her once more, the tip of him brushing against her entrance as he gazes down at her, such deep affection and desire in his eyes, Regina’s breath stops. Then he’s pushing himself inside her and every rational thought in her head melts away.

Both of them moan as Regina’s wet, warm heat envelops him, drawing him in. Robin’s hips still for a moment, buried deep inside her, waiting for Regina’s eyes to meet his, ensuring she’s alright before he’s rocking in and out of her slowly. It feels incredible, beyond anything he ever could have imagined. One of his hands skates across her skin to cup her breast, pinching a nipple between his fingers and she groans.

He’s thick and wonderful and the onslaught of sensations overwhelms Regina for a moment. Screwing her eyes shut she lets herself revel in the feel of him inside her, stretching her, creating a glorious friction that has heat spreading throughout her limbs as he pumps in and out of her.

Their mouths meet for another kiss and Regina slips her arms around Robin’s back, letting them caress over his skin, nails digging into his flesh on a particularly deep thrust that has her crying out. She’s close already, worked up and needy and everything he’s doing to her is pushing her nearer to that edge.

Breaking the kiss, Regina tucks her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and letting her tongue dart out to taste his skin, a bit slick and salty from the light dew of sweat that covers him. She kisses her way up to his ear, biting his lobe between her teeth before whispering into his ear, “Mmmm… Robin, you feel so good. Don’t stop.” Her voice is airy, laced with lust and longing as she demands, “Faster. I want you so much.”

Moaning, Robin happily obeys her request, increasing the pace of his thrusts, cock pounding into her over and over again. He’s close to the edge himself, the combined sensation of her mouth and body and those deep whimpers rapidly drawing him toward that peak. Maneuvering his hand further down between them he swipes his thumb over her clit, rubbing along with his thrusts.

Regina cries out, gasping and nodding her head as it falls back against the pillow beneath her. Her body is tingling, teetering on a cliff of ultimate bliss as Robin slides in and out of her, touching her. “That’s it, babe. Let go for me. I wanna watch you come.” He mutters, pounding harder into her, and that British accent of his ridiculously sexy. A few more thrusts are all it takes to have her tightening around him, muscles spasming as she whimpers in pleasure.

It’s a true sight to behold, Regina Mills coming on his cock, and Robin bites his bottom lip, struggles to hold out for just a little longer, letting her ride out her orgasm for as long as he can. When her eyes finally flutter open, meeting his and grinning up at him, he lets go of that thin strip of control and jerks his hips sharply against hers, once, twice, three times before he’s spilling over.

Panting, Robin collapses on top of her, his head landing beside hers and peppering kisses over the side of her neck. Regina wraps her arms around him, snuggling into him, enjoying the feel of his heated skin against her own for a minute or two before he’s gripping the condom at the base of his shaft to keep it from slipping and rolling off her onto his back. She turns her head to look at him, grinning when his chest continues to heave while he catches his breath. “Wow.” Is all he says when he turns his head to meet her gaze.

Laughing, Regina turns on her side, propping her head on her hand to grin at him. “Yeah. That was definitely something. Another hidden talent, huh?” Robin chuckles, lifting a hand to push a lock of hair that’s fallen over her face behind her ear. He sits up and slowly stands from the bed, striding into the bathroom to dispose of the condom before returning to her.

Robin turns down the comforter they hadn’t bothered with earlier and waits for Regina to wiggle beneath it before he slips in after her. Drawing her into his arms as she settles her head against his shoulder contentedly. Pressing a kiss into her hair, he murmurs softly, “Thank you for spending New Years with me, Regina.”

Her lips curve against his chest and she lets her eyes close as they lay together in the afterglow. “Thank you for making it so special.” She replies quietly.

Never in a million years would Regina have thought that her year would end up like this. And as she lays curled up in Robin’s arms, naked and sated, drifting off to sleep to the feeling of him stroking his hand over her hair, she can’t wait to find out what the next three hundred and sixty five days will hold.

#outlaw queen #oq ff #oq fan fiction #oq fan fics #brookeap3 writing #regina and robin #regina and robin hood #Regina Mills #robin hood

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