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thrillridesz · 3 years

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heart racing ▫ j.yn

in part of the adrenaline rush! collab hosted by @lucas-wongs + @ickjun

⇢ pairing: jaehyun x reader (f) (ft. other nct members + twice’s jeongyeon)

⇢ genre: fluff, angst, racer!au, best friends to lovers

⇢ warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions and consumption of alcohol, alcoholism, hitting rock bottom

⇢ synopsis: once a revered member of the racing industry, jaehyun has been living at rock bottom for the past few months following a tragic accident that effectively put him out of racing. it seems as though nothing would get through to him, not even you. will he ever break out of the constant loop of doubt and start seeing things for what they really are?

⇢ word count: 8.04k

⇢ a/n : unedited! also posted on this account because I’m considering merging my nct account with my tbz writing blog also PLEASE check out the other writers’ works ^^ we’ve all worked hard on our fics

“Jaehyun, you’re ruining yourself.”

The dim room reeked of stale alcohol and something mouldy as the empty beer bottles that littered the floor clanged noisily against the surrounding furniture, leaking golden yellow liquid all over. Old, worn clothes were draped everywhere, stained and darkened with murky stains while the battered television flickered weakly to live, showing nothing but static. The walls were streaked and striated with scratches, as if someone had just been clawing desperately at them and on the floor amidst the empty glass bottles, were pieces of scrap poster paper. Sunlight peeks in through the drawn blinds, giving a teasing glimpse to the bustling outside world from the sad, decrepit apartment Jaehyun lived in.

Sprawled on the couch with nothing on except a wrinkled pair of jeans, Jaehyun’s eyes were devoid of emotion - blank and dazelike. In his hand, his fingers held on limply to the neck of yet another bottle of beer, possibly his nth for the day. His usually shiny hazel brown hair was greasy with filth and his bare chest was sticky with sweat from being cooped up all day in this tiny, stuffy apartment of his. His jawline was starting to grow a hint of stubble given how much he’d completely let himself go and dark circles were appearing underneath those intense eyes of his.

Slowly, Jaehyun lifted his gaze from the floor to look at you, the first flicker of emotions that he’d ever displayed in the whole day. You stood before him, arms akimbo, your gaze sharp and piercing. He smiled, a smile that held no mirth or happiness.

“Oh, you’re still here.”

You shook your head, ripping the bottle of beer from his grasp. As you approached, the bottles, clothes and torn pieces of paper on the ground almost made you trip and you tutted under your breath.

“Of course I am. I’m your best friend who is somehow still here with you. Best friends help each other.”

He chuckled nonchalantly, waving his hand at the door. “Well, feel free to leave then. I don’t need your help.” His eyes held a hint of anger as he did, something that did not escape your notice.

“Jaehyun,” you said softly, placing the bottle on a nearby table as you dread what was to come next. “Please, not this again.”

Your words only served to fuel the fiery spark of anger in his eyes as he said in a barely controlled tone, the irritation radiating from him in ripples that threatened to evolve into waves, “Why not? I’m a fucking wreck and a loser anyways. Leave like everyone else did. Leave like…” His voice wobbled, “leave like Jeongyeon did.”

Your heart fell and it took almost a godlike willpower not to let your emotions show. Was he still thinking about her?

“Jaehyun-”

“What? Are you gonna say I’m not a loser like you always do? Cut the fucking lies. Everyone out there is saying the same thing, what makes you think you can convince me that you’re not thinking it either? Hm?” He spat, the drowsiness in his demeanour dissipating fast as red hot anger replaced it. There was so much internal frustration within Jaehyun that just seeing him like this was enough to break your heart. It was one thing to see him in this terrible state but it was quite another to see him directing his anger towards you.

You drew in a deep breath, trying to calm your pounding heart and to stop the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes. Having been there with him every step of the year ever since the both of you were children playing and horsing around the neighbourhood, you found yourself desperately missing those much simpler times and wondering how things became so wrong.

For as long as you could remember, Jaehyun had always been interested and had a natural flair for racing. There always existed a competitive streak in him that thrived off a challenge. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as it was a game that could have a clear winner or incited competitiveness, he was all up for it. As kids, the two of you used to compete over everything, be it for the last popsicle in the convenience store down the street or past the gates of your school. It was as if racing was something he needed in order to live. It wasn’t until sophomore year of high school did Jaehyun decide to take his love for racing to a professional level. He began to dive deep into the motorsport industry, starting out as a mere rookie in auto racing. He never did apply to college, preferring instead to invest all his time into his newfound life career.

His rise to fame was quick, quicker than most. Within his first year, he had won a number of races, beating even some of the well known names in the sport. Every other month, he was winning trophies and exorbitant cash prizes which in return earned him the recognition of famous sponsors and racers. Bumper stickers from the various sponsors decorated the back of his ride and it was no time at all before Jaehyun began to don some of the most expensive sports gear on the tracks. With his smouldering good looks, he also appeared on the front pages of magazines and newspapers, all while attracting a loyal fanbase made up of both racing enthusiasts and adoring admirers.

To everyone else, he was the suave, handsome and effortlessly cool young racer who was practically born to race and to do it well but to you, he was your childhood friend… and your first love. In front of the flashing lights and cameras, Jaehyun knew his way around the crowd. He knew exactly when to flash one of his dazzling, dimpled smiles and how to work the crowd - it was just one of his innate charms. Yet, you knew that underneath that, that flashy, extravagant Jaehyun, was the Jaehyun you grew up with and had gradually fallen in love with.

As children, he was there for you whenever you needed him, always ready to lend a helping hand when he noticed that you were stuck in an unfavourable situation. You distinctly remember what had happened in second grade. It was a bright and warm summer’s day, the lovely scent of sweet peas floating in the air as the sun bore down on the earth. Pigeons flitted over the sidewalks, pecking at the cemented floor and the leaves of the oak trees that lined the streets rustled gently in the wind.

You fell with a loud and heavy thud on your bottom, feeling the leaves crunch noisily under your weight. Fear and trepidation coursed through your veins as you stared with eyes wide at your tormentors.

“Look at her, she looks pathetic. Do it, Johnny! Do it!”

A tall, hunkering boy flanked by his cronies stood over you, his dark, massive shadow engulfing you as you frantically scrambled backwards. Tears were beginning to stream down your face and a sharp pain shot up your spine with each move, owing to the impact of the fall. There were scratches on your hands as you dragged your palms over the rough gravel in an attempt to move away.

There was a malicious glint in Johnny’s eyes and his lips were curved into a devious smirk as he stared down at you, domineering and intimidating. The veins in his arms and hands were bulging angrily and as he clenched his fists, you felt your stomach sink. Your legs began to feel like jelly and your vision was beginning to blur from all the salty tears. You were struck with fear and the sense of helplessness you felt made you feel both ashamed and furious at yourself yet there was nothing you could do.

You held your hand up to shield yourself from the impending attack as the bully lifted up his fist.

“Hey! How about you pick on someone your own size?!”

The group of you turned to see Jaehyun, eyes blazing with anger as his chest heaved. His wind-swept hair hung over his eyes, a surefire sign that he’d run over and his cheeks were red from exertion. Even from afar, he was clearly no match to Johnny’s larger build, much less the whole lot of them.

“J-Jaehyun?” You spluttered, shocked.

“Who is this clown- Ow!” Johnny stumbled backwards as a rock pebble hit him on the head, promptly ricocheting off his forehead and bouncing onto the ground. His jaw was clenched in pain and when he removed his palm, a reddish bruise had blossomed and there was even a faint trace of blood. There was a split second of stunned silence before Johnny turned almost magenta with rage.

“GET HIM!” He roared and his cronies shook out of their daze, immediately going after Jaehyun who’d already ran a good distance before the reality of what had just happened set in. His mocking laugh rang through the afternoon amidst a cackle of profanities and threats yelled at him.

It was a laugh that remained in your memories all these years. It was a laugh that strengthened you, a laugh that spoke so much of willful courage and youthful rebellion which was everything you’d eventually come to associate with Jaehyun. That laugh was bright and so… him.

Yet now, you could see none of that playful mischief and vibrancy in those eyes. All that is left is emptiness.

“You’re not a loser, Jaehyun,” you began softly, “you never were in my eyes. You were a fighter.”

Those beautiful eyes you adored so much narrowed at you, his face twisted into a scowl.

“A fighter? Guess what, y/n?” He sneered, his voice dripping with venom. “I fought. I fought endlessly but did that work out for me? I threw in everything I could, every little thing. I worked hard and put in a hundred and one percent of my effort.”

You stared at him, your heart aching for him as a single tear began to roll down his cheek, tears of anger, indignation and pain.

“But did that work out? No, it didn’t. If anything, it left me a wreck. People out there call me a loser, a has-been and even my girlfriend has left me. It doesn’t matter how much effort I put in, how much I fought because at the end of the day, everyone is only here because of what they think I am. They saw me as a champion, an up and coming and the moment I wasn’t anymore, they all dropped me in a heartbeat. What are you waiting for, y/n? Why the hell are you even still here?”

His words echoed through the empty apartment and out loud, it sounded bleak, harsh and biting. His anguished voice tore at your heart and as each word left those lips, it felt like your heart was slowly breaking apart. Neither of you said anything for a moment, locked in a silent, unspoken fight as he held your gaze steadily. His eyes were cold and there was the look of a broken man in them.

“I am here because I love you, Jaehyun,” you said finally, your voice quivering. “I don’t care who or what you are and it pains me to see you tear yourself down like this because I know you are not the loser you believe you are. I don’t know how much of this I can take, seeing you ruin yourself.”

You can see the slight softening in his eyes and you gritted your teeth.

“I’m going to go. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I can’t see you ruin yourself and be able to do nothing about it. I’m not strong enough for that.”

With that, you left the apartment before he could see the tears in your eyes.

The miserable, empty can of beer clattered loudly against the hardwood floor, the sound echoing through the dank apartment.

Jaehyun barely lifted an eyebrow, his fingers growing slack without him even knowing. He stared up at the dark ceiling, a hooded look in those once bright eyes. The stench that hung around him was growing more intense by the day and it was reaching a point whereby he could almost smell himself but there was nothing in him that seemed to care.

Sounds of active civilisation outside drifted in through the windows and occasionally, he’d hear the honking of angry drivers on the roads or the laughter of children playing at the playground at the courtyard below. Normally, he loved waking up to these sounds or at least when he wasn’t off to the race tracks, when he was relaxing with a book in his hands. Now however, he found them irksome, irritating and he wanted nothing more but to block them out. He wanted absolutely zero reminder of the world outside.

Grunting, Jaehyun dragged himself off the couch. As he trudged heavily back to his room where his comfortable bed beckoned to him, he turned to stare at the large, imposing front door where moments ago, you’d slammed shut as you left him to his own devices.

Guilt tugged at his heart and for a split second, Jaehyun contemplated running after you. When you left, there was an indescribable sense of hollowness that engulfed him in a way that he couldn’t quite understand or explain. The apartment was filthy, dark and small but somehow with you around just a few minutes ago, it felt just a little bigger, a little warmer. As much as he hated to admit it, his heart was calling to him to reach out to you, run after you. The crumpled look on your face haunted him but he shook the thought from his mind.

It would be better if you left him. If you knew what was good for you, you would.

The anger in him was beginning to resurface at the thought of everything that had happened over the past few months. His career plummeting on a downward spiral right after his recovery, the exact opposite of what was predicted by his agent.

He was born to race, his family and his friends had always told him so. He knew it himself, he could feel it in his blood, his bones, his spirit. Ever since he was little, Jaehyun had known that his career would have something to do one way or another with racing. As a child, he loved running, competing but most of all, he loved riding in his father’s pickup truck on the way to school. He loved the way the vehicle would zoom past the streets, overtaking other vehicles and he loved the feeling of the wind against his face. He loved the speed and everything about cars or racing. It felt natural for him to pursue a career in competitive racing and a natural he was.

After getting signed with a racing company, Jaehyun quickly rose to fame with his numerous championships, bagging trophies, medals and cash prizes in almost every event he participated in. Sports magazines and reporters would clamour over each other to score an interview with him. People wanted pictures with him, wanted him to sign an autograph for them.

He was the golden boy in the racing world, an untouchable.

In the racing world, everything goes a mile a minute and nothing waits for anyone. After the morbid crash at the June Tokyo Prix, Jaehyun had sustained several fractures to his ribs and a severe concussion that left him in the hospital’s intensive care unit bedridden for several months. The pain was unlike any other and every single move hurt immensely but what suffered more damage than he did was his career and his relationships.

Within months, the racing career he had so painstakingly built up for himself collapsed before him. Due to long inactivity, brands and sponsors began to drop him, slowly at first then steadily one by one. He was also constantly under the media’s scrutiny for a period of time, their cameras and microphones thrusted in his face while he lay helpless on the hospital bed. The bright flashes blinded him and the loud noises made his head pound and even now, he still remembered how that experience was like, shuddering every time it crossed his mind. It had taken Jaehyun countless hours of physical therapy before he could even think of racing competitively again.

Yet when he did, he quickly realised he never could revert back to his old self, the one who got off on adrenaline kicks while zooming along the tracks at breakneck speed, the one who only knew what it was like to win. He was slower, less coordinated. His body could no longer take the pressure racing would subject it too, or at least not quickly enough for him to make a full, stunning comeback.

The tabloids and news had run wild with his fall from grace, writing up horrible, demeaning articles about him. His rivals had mocked him to his face and he could even sense the visible disappointment from his fans emanating from the stands whenever he’d lost yet another race. The thing that really broke the camel’s back however, was when his girlfriend Jeongyeon initiated a breakup.

Jaehyun had hoped that things would turn for the better, never one to give up. He’d trained tirelessly everyday, pushing his brittle body to the limit. He never let up on himself, gritting his teeth through all the physical and mental pressure he had imposed on himself. When the final text was sent, Jaehyun could remember distinctly how hopeless and distraught he’d felt. It felt like his world, the empire he had so painfully and relentlessly crafted for himself from scratch was breaking bit by bit. To add salt to the wound, the next time he’d seen her on television, her body was plastered against his biggest rival, Yuta. Her arms were wrapped around his and her lips pressing against his cheeks with no shame whatsoever for the interviewer interviewing him, no sign of the girl who’d once told him that she loved him with all her heart.

What was once determination and naive hopefulness soon devolved into anger and resentment. Jaehyun began to let himself go and the change was drastic. Where there once existed a time whereby he’d rise from his slumber early to visit the gym, he now regularly slept well into the late afternoon. His diet began to consist largely of takeout, junk food and alcohol and his apartment got more and more cluttered by the day. He’d stopped contacting his friends and family, ignoring their calls and texts, preferring to fester in his own solitude. It wasn’t long before an odour had started to emit from his place, a nauseating mixture of stale pizza, beer and pure filth from the lack of showers.

His appearance was also no longer polished, but rather haggard as if he’d aged five years in a matter of months. He was beginning to lose his fit stature, the healthy glow he’d once been prized on by magazines and gossip columns dimming. It got to a point whereby Jaehyun had begun to avoid looking at his hideous reflection in the mirror, his self-hatred growing with each day.

A poster of him in his racing gear and his race car was tattered and wrinkled on the floor, stained with ketchup and soda. Staring at it blankly with eyes empty of any emotions whatsoever, Jaehyun swiped it up and in a swift moment, he tore it up with a large rip before trashing it somewhere on the floor.

Flopping onto his comforter, he almost moaned in pleasure as he sunk into the soft sheets. Reaching for the air conditioning control, a loud smack on the ground roused him from his hedonistic haze. His hair was sticking up in all directions as he peered over the edge of his bed to see a picture frame that had fallen from his night stand.

Holding it in his hands, he looked at it with a nonchalant air.

It was a picture of the both of you a few years ago, back when he was just kick starting his racing career. He hadn’t yet made a name for himself then as the two of you leaned in for the picture.

You had on a bright, illuminating beam on your face, your eyes alive and glittering with happiness. Your hair was down, wisps of it framing your face as the sun brought out the colour and shine of it. Next to him, you’d completely dwarfed in comparison. He had his arm around you, bringing you to his side and from the picture, Jaehyun could feel a smile begin to crack on his face at the comical height difference.

He’d looked completely at ease here, carefree with the recklessness and restlessness of the soul beneath shining through his dark eyes. His hair was wavy, styled down in that ridiculous fashion he wanted so badly to leave back in high school. He had worn a dimpled smile on his face, the look of someone who knew he was destined for greatness and believed in it.

Jaehyun was about to put the picture down when something caught his eye. He leaned in closer.

There was something about you. At first glance, it would have been clear that you were smiling for the camera but upon closer look, it looked as if you might be smiling at him instead. Your smile was softer, eyes gentler from the first time he’d seen the picture. It was the sort of smile that struck him in his heart, the kind of smile that would make its recipient feel loved, appreciated.

“I want to be a racer when I grow up.”

You turned to Jaehyun, eyes wide as saucers as you popped the ice popsicle out of your mouth.

“Why?”

He shrugged, still struggling with the wrapper of the popsicle. The two of you sat on the wooden bench, side by side as the other kids ran around the park, playing rounds of tag while their parents or babysitters sat watching over them. The sun was glaring down on the earth and though it was a great day to go out to play and sweat it out, it was also a perfect day to find an excuse to buy popsicles with what little pocket money your parents had given to you two. It wasn’t an opportunity to be missed.

“I really like racing. I don’t know if there’s anything else I’d want to be,” he said simply, grinning as he finally succeeded in breaking open the plastic.

You tried to hide the blush that was beginning to creep up to your cheeks, looking away from him.

“My mom says being a doctor is good.”

As soon as you said it, you immediately regretted your words. Jaehyun scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“No way! It’s so boring. Do you want to be a doctor?”

Quickly, you shook your head fervently. “No!”

“Then what do you want to be?” He asks curiously, sucking on his popsicle.

You are quiet for a while as you ponder over his question. What exactly do you want to be when you grow up?

“...A writer.” You said finally and he swiveled around to look at you, clearly not expecting your answer.

“A writer? Hm, why?”

“I just really like reading. I want to write interesting stories that people will like,” you take a tentative lick of your popsicle, the icy, sweet taste of apple flavouring coating your tongue, “Like fairytales!”

Jaehyun broods over your answer, seemingly deep in thought. For a moment, neither of you say another word as you sit together under the warm, sunny day, enjoying your popsicles.

“I want people to like me too.” He says suddenly, his eyes shining. “People will like my racing! I’m going to be a racer and people will like me to win!”

He hops to his feet, his popsicle raised as he made his declaration. There is a triumphant, toothy smile on his face and he says it with so much hope and gusto that you can’t help but feel drawn to his driven spirit. For a boy of five foot, there was a lot of motivation and energy in him and there was just something about him that got you transfixed.

Under the sunlight, his smile seemed almost blindingly bright with the shadows highlighting the charming dimples on those round cheeks. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and your heart began to pound. Your words seemed stuck in your throat and you choked out, “I t-think you’ll make a good racer, J-Jaehyun.”

You thought your heart might burst as his smile grew wider, his dimples making deeper indentations. It felt like the sun might just be a little too hot since your face felt like it was positively flaming.

“Thank you, y/n.”

Suddenly, something caught your eye and shakily, you pointed at him.

His smile dropped as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“What?”

“Y-your popsicle is m-m-melting… down your a-arm.”

The elevator button made an uncharacteristic squeaking sound as Jaehyun jabbed repeatedly at it, his jaw clenched in impatience.

“Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up,” he muttered frantically under his breath, pacing the lift lobby. The red letters above the elevator were moving at a snail’s pace and it seemed as if it’s stopped to pick up some passengers on the 5th floor. How long does it take for people to move into an elevator?

Jaehyun groaned in annoyance as he watched the number on the display crawl up slowly.

This wouldn’t do. By the time it’s here, it would be too late.

Immediately, he sprinted for the stairs instead, his heart hammering against his chest.

There was great fanfare as the rowdy crowd erupted into raucous cheers, the large, industrial sized party poppers going off with a bang, covering everyone in glitter streamers and confetti. Cameras were flashing and clicking away at every corner while throngs of sports reporters flooded the holding area, all trying to reach the champions for their coveted exclusive interviews. Agents and pit crews were all celebrating with the sound of champagne bottles popping and yells and cheers of congratulations ringing through the air.

Jaehyun stood at the top of the podium, shooting the cameras his trademark stunning grin as he posed with his golden trophy that looked to be about the size of his torso. The racing suit he was wearing was uncomfortably hot and he wanted nothing more than to strip from it but the adrenaline and euphoria he was experiencing far surpassed any feelings of discomfort.

This was it, the taste of success. It was everything he lived for, raced for. This was why he always trained so hard, from dawn to dusk. This was why he put his own body through all those hours of endurance training, gym and dieting. It was all for this single moment of true bliss enjoyed and savoured after the extreme thrill of racing. Here on the podium, towering above everyone else… He was truly where he needed to be, where he was born to be.

As he stepped off and the bodyguards swarmed in to escort him to his own holding room, Jaehyun couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. Yet another trophy for display on his shelf back in his apartment. He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of it, the feeling of winning but then again who would?

Reporters were attempting to accost him at all sides, all screaming out the same old questions he had grown tired of early on.

“How do you feel after winning the prix for the third year running?”

“You hit a record timing today! How did you train for the race?”

“What do you have to say to your rival, Nakamoto who came in second this year? By a mere few seconds at that!”

Jaehyun nodded and waved at a few of them, still wearing a smile on his face but there was no answer evoked from him. He’d kept up a calm and cool demeanour throughout but once he was in his holding room alone, the moment the door closed shut behind him, he let out a loud, jubilant howl.

“Fuck yes!” He roared out in happiness before collapsing onto the couch, laughing to himself as he held his trophy above him. He badly needed a shower but he couldn’t care less, not with the trophy in his hands. Under the light, the gold shone and even as a seasoned racer, the excitement and happiness from winning never grew old. In the empty room, the victory felt even more profound, the reality of claiming the championships for yet another year sinking in.

He was in the middle of celebrating and basking in his own victory, he received a text.

Jy: how’s my man doing? congratulations on the win honey ❤️

Jae: thanks babe, it feels fucking amazing. you have no idea… also i missed you so much

Jy: we should celebrate. together, alone. tonight at my place? ;) we haven’t done it in awhile, i miss your body, your kisses

Jaehyun stared at the text. He should be happy, excited to see Jeongyeon again after so long. He had been so preoccupied with training for the big race that he’d barely had any time for her. He had missed her yet now that they were finally exchanging texts again after so long apart, he didn’t seem to feel the same anticipation.

There was something about that text she sent that seemed weirdly… detached. He had imagined their first interaction in over a month to be one that warmed him up in the inside, brought him to a whole new level of euphoria even after winning but if anything, this reality paled in comparison to the scenario he had looked forward to in his mind.

Jae: yeah sure

After pressing send, he tossed his phone onto the coffee table and rested his head against the velvety cushion of the couch. Somehow, that very short exchange with Jeongyeon had dimmed his excitement and readiness to celebrate.

His phone suddenly rang, disrupting him from the reverie he’d found himself in.

“Must be Jeongyeon,” he thought to himself and for some reasons as he swiped to answer the call, he found himself reluctant to talk.

“Hello?”

“Jung Jaehyun! I was watching your race on television, congratulations for coming in first yet again! You were terrific out there.”

Y/n.

Jaehyun smiled, feeling his heart swell at your words.

“Thanks, y/n. I really appreciate it.”

“How about we meet for dinner tonight? I know of this amazing Italian place that serves the best lasagna, your favourite! My treat too to celebrate your win, how’s that?”

At the mention of lasagna, Jaehyun could feel his stomach rumbling and his mouth watering. The tangy tomato sauce, copious amounts of cheese and spiced minced beef with soft pasta… He would absolutely be down for some well-deserved lasagna after weeks of feasting on plain, watery salads. Dinner sounded like a great idea.

“Sure, I- Wait, I can’t,” he groaned, suddenly remembering his plans with Jeongyeon. Plans he didn’t even particularly look forward to.

“Why not?” You asked.

“I um…”

Fuck, why is it so hard to say it?

“I have plans with Jeongyeon tonight,” he said, ignoring the strange pang of guilt and indignation that hit him square in the chest.

“Oh! Oh, uh… That’s completely fine. Don’t worry about it, we can always have dinner some other day.”

“Really? That would be great! How does next week sound?”

“Sounds good to me!” Even on call, he could imagine you bobbing your head enthusiastically like you usually did and that brought a chuckle out of him.

“Alright, I’ll see you then y/n.”

“See you! Please rest well, you deserve it.”

“Thank you,” he replied before hanging up.

What is this warm feeling in him?

Jaehyun raced out of the apartment complex, his eyes searching his surroundings.

The sun was glaring and he couldn’t see straight without squinting his eyes. He must have been a weird sight to behold - scruffy, pale from the lack of the outdoors and reeking of the garbage piled up in his apartment. An elderly woman walking past him tutted disapprovingly at his disheveled appearance, holding her nose as she did but Jaehyun didn’t seem to notice her. His mind was on something else, something more important.

A boy from across the street was staring at him with his mouth agape, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he shakily fumbled in his pockets for his phone. Jaehyun let his sights linger on him, wondering if he should have at least thrown on a coat but as he turned, he caught sight of a figure hanging by the bus stop, looking miserable.

He swallowed thickly, feeling the slight clench of his heart and without hesitating a single second longer, he made his way over.

The heart monitor’s methodical beating was driving him near insanity. If not that, then certainly the suffocating atmosphere of the hospital and the bandages wrapped tightly around almost every single inch of his body would. Not to mention the occasional undercover paparazzi who would try to inch their way into his ward.

Jaehyun stared up at the white ceilings, still as a plank. Every part of his body hurt to move, he couldn’t even turn his head without feeling a painful pounding in it. Sometimes, he would get dizzy spells so intense he actually felt nauseous. His appetite for food or anything in general had since plummeted. Everything, but racing.

He yearned to go out there onto the tracks, to resume his training. The Roman Prix is coming up in a month’s time and he was so far from ready. He needed to get out of this place as soon as possible, even if it meant jeopardising his own safety. His career mattered more than anything.

Jeongyeon hadn’t called either since the day he got admitted. Jaehyun had soon grown tired of checking his messages or asking his publicist for news from her, the feeling of disappointment felt deep within him. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling a wave of fatigue wash over him.

There was a gentle knock on the door and as the door creaked slightly open, you poked your head in. Upon seeing him, you smiled softly and made your way over to him. Jaehyun watched you approach, his eyes following you.

You had brought along a basket with you, seemingly full of items. As much as he wanted to know what you’d brought, he tried not to look overeager. “I made you something special today,” you said, settling down and practically vibrating with excitement.

“What?”

“Tomato minestrone soup!” You exclaimed, uncovering the lid as the tantalising aroma of tomatoes and a medley of vegetables drifted in the air. Jaehyun almost had to restrain himself from moving, lest he shift a bone out of place somewhere.

Somehow seeing you had sparked a certain kind of joy in him. Maybe it was a sign nobody had really forgotten about him yet. He had watched his number of visitors trickle down day by day and now that it was close to a month since he’d been hospitalised, after the tragic accident, he barely got any. Perhaps three or four a week if he was lucky.

You, however, you were different. You visited him almost every other day, no matter how busy you were. You visited his bedside even if you were worn out from a long day of work, even when you had things to attend to, even when no one else bothered to. You would bring along snacks whenever you did or homemade get-well food like fish porridge or chicken noodle soup you’d whipped up yourself, though they might be far from the usual gourmet fare he was used to back when he was still active when he would go for exquisite dinner parties. Usually, you stayed for a substantial amount of time and sometimes, you even stayed the night.

Jaehyun didn’t understand why you would do all of this for a friend, a friend who never seemed to have time to spare for you at that. More than anything, the feeling of guilt in him only grew stronger with each visit yet he was grateful, extremely grateful. Your presence was like a warm ray of sunshine in this dreary hospital ward. Whenever you visited, he couldn’t help but smile even though he could not find it in himself to smile. But when it came to you, it felt natural.

“Y/n!”

At the sound of Jaehyun’s voice, you turned and even from afar, he could see your reddened eyes - a surefire sign you’d been crying. Guilt and anger washed over him in waves and he tried not to think how many times he had been the cause of your tears. If only he could turn back time, he would have shook himself for ever dismissing you so lightly like he did, before he saw the situation for what it was.

He was blinded. Blinded by his obsession for winning, fame, glory and pleasing the wrong people. In a way, it felt like a fog had been lifted before him and now that he could see, think, feel clearly… He wasn’t going to let the right person out of his grasp. The person who loved him unconditionally, not just for his fame and achievements. The person who stuck with him through thick and thin but he was just too daft to notice it. The person who always felt like home whether he knew it or not.

You.

“Jaehyun? W-What are you…” You spluttered, desperately trying to wipe your tears from your face as you stared up at him.

It took a couple of seconds for him to regain his breath, his face turning red from embarrassment and exertion. He should really start leaving those beers and junk food alone.

“I…” He panted, both out of fatigue and relief, “We need to talk.”

“Jung is getting closer, any minute now Hendery!”

“I don’t believe this! Are we looking at a potential comeback for this prix? Push, push, push!”

“It seems like we might be! Here he comes! He is absolutely mad!”

The nascars zipped along the race tracks, smoke and some bits of burnt rubber and chipped metal trailing along its wake. They were a blur of colours to the spectators, who were practically glued to their seats as they watched the race reach its climax. A massive telescreen was displaying close ups and the ranking board with huge overhead lights that illuminated the stadium. The crowd was growing wilder by the second as the racecars zoomed past them, their attention fixed on one racer in particular.

The sleek nascar was streaked in royal blue and crimson red over a metallic black base, looking almost purple and black with how fast it was flying across the tracks. The wheels were spinning so fast that the friction between the tough rubber tire and the rough granite almost lit up the tracks. It was charging forward with a steely determination and ruthlessness, closing in rapidly on a green and white nascar ahead of it.

The adrenaline coursing Jaehyun’s veins was unlike any other. The thrill he got from racing could practically send him into an all time high and a cunning grin tugged at his lips as he stepped his foot down hard on the pedal, his hands gripping tightly onto his steering wheel. Rounding around a bend, he clenched his jaw as he pushed his body weight to the left, the muscles in his abdominals and biceps flexing and straining against his racing suit as the car drifted across the tracks in a perfect arc.

“Did you see that perfectly executed drift?! Insanity!”

“Jung is absolutely on fire!”

The thunderous cheers of the crowd and the loud hum of the race cars racing across the tracks faded into the background as he kept his eyes trained steadily forward. Any time now…

“Watch out, Nakamoto,” he whispered under his breath.

Steering his wheel sharply and accelerating much to the crowd’s excitement and trepidation, his race car was now driving side by side along Yuta’s. For a split second, the two turned to look at each other through the window and even though there was no way of seeing the other’s face through that helmet, something in Jaehyun told him that his rival was angered, shocked and… Fearful.

Jaehyun grinned beneath his helmet and without a second thought, he zipped forward, leaving Yuta behind in the smoke.

“He’s going for it, he’s going for it… Wait for it… And he crosses the line! The legend has reclaimed his spot on the top!”

“And that is how you execute one of the greatest comebacks of all time, ladies and gentlemen. Jung has done what we believed to be impossible and dominated the race! I wonder how Nakamoto feels about that?”

The other commentator chuckles into his microphone.

“Well Haechan, if I were him, I’d be pissed off for sure! But I’d also be worried… So very worried.”

The crowd was absolutely wild when he’d disembarked from the car and as he removed his helmet, he was greeted with camera flashes all around him. He shook his head, running a gloved hand over his hair and he took a deep breath. The air smelled of burnt rubber, smoke and… Success.

He had done it. He had made his comeback.

His pit crew made a beeline for him, slapping him on the back, their faces jubilant and lit with pure joy. His new manager, one that he trusted and helped him inch his way back to the top step by step, shot him a thumbs up which he nodded in acknowledgement as the crowd of sports journalists, reporters and photographers began to swarm in on him.

Yet, he paid them no attention. If this was three years ago, he would have basked in the glory, the attention but now he had greater concerns on his mind. His heart was pounding now for a different reason altogether and he could feel his hands growing clammy.

Jaehyun craned his neck and searched the rowdy media crowd. Where were you?

“Jaehyun!”

At your voice, he turned and immediately almost stumbled backwards as you crashed into him for a hug. The feelings of you against him sparked a joy in his heart, a joy almost greater than winning. He enveloped you in a hug, holding your waist as he nuzzled his face into your hair. Your scent of honey and jasmine was intoxicating, alluring and a welcomed change from the smell of smoke and rubble.

The two of you had been dating for about two years now, each day together better than the previous. After he’d caught up with you that day, it was as if you were seeing a different Jaehyun from the one you’d seen in his apartment. That Jaehyun who had caught up with you at the bus stop was the old Jaehyun you’d missed and it was as if a switch somewhere had been flipped. To this day, he had never admitted what changed while you were gone for those few minutes. He had subsequently apologised for everything he’d done, even things you didn’t see a problem with. It was shocking to say the least to see the unapologetic Jaehyun apologise for anything at all, but not more shocking than what entailed a few days later.

It started with a vase of luscious red roses being sent to your workplace followed by an invitation for dinner. Before you knew it, the boy you’d loved almost all your life was courting you with a passion. It felt like a complete dream, so much so you had been afraid to wake up suddenly and realise it was all just your imagination. He’d been more of a romantic than he’d let on and many times, you had found yourself completely smitten by his stunts that stretched from learning how to make homemade chocolates for you on Valentine’s Day knowing that you liked them, even though he was well known as a terrible cook to sending flowers up to your doorstep every other week.

Within a couple of months, the two of you were dating and deeply, wildly in love.

Amidst date nights filled with laughter and kisses, he had also been steadily climbing his way back up the ranks of the racing world. After ditching his unhealthy lifestyle he had been living for the past year, the change was apparent. He’d started hitting the gym, eating healthier and before long, he was in prime condition to start racing again. Training was long and tough but he never did give up. He was more determined and driven than you’d seen him and though the old Jaehyun would have been gutted at a loss, this new, better version of him never fussed over a loss of any kind, instead learning from his mistakes.

All of his efforts had led to this ultimate moment, the taste of victory on his lips.

You noticed he had been shifting uncomfortably and you looked up, puzzled and concerned.

“Jaehyun? You okay?”

He looked at you, his ears red, a sign that he was anxious, nervous.

“Jaehyun? What-”

Your words got stuck in your throat as he knelt down on one knee, the lights overhead bringing out the sparkle in his eyes and the shine in his hair. Those dark orbs were so full of hope, anxiety and love all intermingled in one and you found it difficult to believe that those eyes were looking at you directly, the emotions in them all for you.

Jaehyun withdrew a tiny, velvet box from his pocket and popped it open. In the box, was a tiny diamond ring, glittering and absolutely regal. The diamond itself was beautifully cut and interwoven into the metal band with microfibres of white gold and it simply shone as the camera flashes went off. The crowd was going bonkers, screaming and cheering with wolf whistles.

“Y/n,” he spoke softly, his voice gentle. “You have always been there for me, always been my better half. We have been friends for over a decade and lovers for merely two but it seemed as if we always were meant for each other. It took me so long to realise that and there is not a day I don’t regret not realising it sooner. You are my everything - my past, present and future. Falling in love with you was gradual, unconscious. I guess my heart knew you the one before I even did. It started with me being in a dark, dark place where I drowned in my own self-hatred and insecurities. I was beaten, defeated and I just gave up. Where everyone did the same, you never did. You were like a beam of shining light, shining upon me and guiding me even if I didn’t notice it at the time. But when I did, you glowed even more brightly than I’d envisioned. I’d been oblivious to your beauty both inside and outside for far too long and god knows how much I fucking regret it. I’m different now though, because of you. I am the best version of myself right now because I have you in my life. You taught me how to love, allow myself to be loved. There’s no universe whereby I’d want to be without you. I can’t see myself without you in my life. I need you, I love you.”

Tears were beginning to stream down your face and the stadium had grown quieter, all tuning into what was happening.

Jaehyun looked up at you, hopeful and so full of love that you thought your heart might burst.

“So I guess what I’m saying is, will you marry me, y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

524 notes · View notes

lovemesomeharry · 4 years

Text

MAKE YOU MINE

Warnings: Curse words, angst, smut

Words: 8.6k

Summary: Harry and Y/N have been friends for a long time until Harry catches feelings and everything gets worse before things get better.

Y/N had always seen him as a star, always shining bright in the most devine color. Everybody knew and saw that he was the sharpest one among everyone but he would never dare to brag about it. To him, everybody was shining too and that just made him even more beautiful.

That's why Y/N loved to observe him. Whether it was him on stage, singing his soul out, and losing control in the best way possible just to make the crowd go wild and become alive.

Or he could be working and his best friend would try to remember in which angle the tip of his tongue stuck out between his rosy lips and his nose would twitch slightly when he was whispering his written words to himself just to let it taste on his tongue.

Or it could be in a situation like this one right here. Y/N watched him how he interacted with people, slightly tipsy, giggling too much and awfully affectionate. Those adorable dimples appeared on his cheeks as he flashed a wide smile to anyone that came to his sight. She couldn't hear what he was saying but it didn't prevent her own smile from appearing on her face as if she’d been a part of the conversation. Even if Harry was telling one of his usual bad jokes, everybody would still end up laughing because it was Harry who told them and he was so damn good at selling those awful jokes.

Y/N wouldn’t say that she was the opposite of Harry, but no one has ever come close to Harry’s charm and his approachable body language. He was a people's person and no one could deny it.

As the night went on Harry kept on drinking and became cuddlier, gigglier and his need to talk to his beat friend grew immensely.

Once he had spotted her a wider grin adorned his face if it was possible at this point, and anyone must have wondered how it didn't hurt to smile like that. He hadn't seen much of her because he was too busy chatting up the other guests, but he was about to change that.

“Y/N.” His words were slurred and a giggle followed right after he was successful at scaring her by approaching her from behind and nearly shouting into her ear.

She turned around, with a pouty mouth, and slapped Harry’s tattooed arm. “Why would you do that, asshole?”

Harry rubbed at the place where she had slapped him, even though her hit wasn't hard and he wasn't really in pain. “Ouch! You’re so mean. I just wanted to talk to you.” With his finger, he tapped the tip of her nose. “Wouldn’t have come here if I knew you were gonna be a meanie to me.” He moved his face right in front of hers and she could totally smell the alcohol he must have in his system.

“What do you mean? When have I ever been nice to you? I can't stand you.” Now she was grinning from one ear to the other as she watched how Harry’s faced dropped. She loved to mess with him but when he was drunk it was a lot funnier. His brain couldn't comprehend the sarcasm and it made him believe that she was saying the truth.

His eyes lost his previous spark and the corners of his mouth were turned upside down as he let the one curl fall onto his forehead to cover up the crease forming between his two eyebrows.

He looked so adorable, but of course, Y/N wasn't the one who would tell him that.

“Take that back.” His tone was demanding but whiny and he crossed his arms in front of his chest as he took a step closer to her. He strengthened his posture but in his drunken state it just looked too funny and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his poor attempting to be intimidating. It just made him even more unhappy, as he put both of his hands at each side of her head and pressed his hot skin on the cool wall, coming so close to her that their noses almost touched.

She felt his hot breath on her upper lip as she shook her head. “No, I never liked you. Deal with it.”

Both were staring at each other and totally forgot the people around them and what situation they were in. The only sound they heard was their own heartbeat as they canceled out the rest of their world.

His green eyes looked at her slightly opened mouth and for a short moment, he hesitated before he pressed his lips to hers. She let out a surprised squeak when she felt his soft mouth on hers, sloppily kissing her. The kiss was short and she couldn't really comprehend it when he let go of her. “How do you like me now?” His voice was deep enough go make chills run down her spine and she couldn't believe what just happened.

He really kissed hee, his best fucking friend. She could still feel his soft mouth on hers and taste the bitter alcohol he had previously.

Y/N felt like as if she was dreaming, but when Harry just walked away she knew it wasn't one. In her dreams, he never walked away afterward.

She didn't really know what to make of this situation and tried to keep a cool head but the fast-beating heart in her chest made it not an easy task.

Would he remember him kissing her? Was he going to regret it? Are things going to be awkward between them from now on?

As bad she wanted to reminisce the kiss and do this again, she was scared that their friendship was hanging on a thread. So her enjoyment was cut short painfully for the rest of the night.

When Harry came by her house with fresh croissants and two coffees Y/N swore her heart stopped for a second.

He looked not as happy as he did a few hours ago and dark shadows painted his skin right underneath his eyes. He looked so tried but tried to cover it up by wearing a beanie and a gigantic hoodie. But it just ended up making him look even more tired and cuddly at the same time.

Y/N really wanted to focus on his looks but after what happened yesterday she hadn't had a chance to talk to him about the kiss. It was making her crazy not knowing what was going through the brits head.

The small voice inside her head told her he was going to regret it. He’d let go of her and wonder how he could have ever done that. He was going to call her names, or at least that's what her head told her. Even though she knew exactly Harry would never go as low as to call her names, she still feared the possibility. Even if it was.t his nature. Besides she wouldn't know how to feel if he’d ever been so rude to her. It would entirely mess up her confidence because she cared about his opinion too much for her own liking.

“Are you ok?” He had asked after staring at her for a solid minute and her not catching him doing so. A worried look took over his soft features as both of them sat down on both ends of her white couch. Much to Harry’s displeasure who wanted her to sit closer to him.

“What?” She shook her head as if she was trying to get those thoughts out of her head. “I’m fine.”

Suspiciously Harry raised his eyebrow. “No, you're not. You’ve been awfully quiet, love.” His leg was bouncing up and down and his entire body sank into the couch. He looked relaxed and Y/N wondered how he was so calm when inside her she was in such troubles. How was he so calm when it was his fault that she was in such a troublesome situation?

She was going to ask him about the kiss, but he was a bit faster and began to speak. “Is it because I kissed Naomi?”

Now Y/N’s head perked up. “Naomi?”

He nodded his head. “Yeah, I was a bit too drunk and kissed her. She texted me this morning asking what that meant.” He sighed as he pat his left leg. “It was so awkward. I had to explain to her that I didn’t think much of it.”

Y/N tried to listen to her best friend as he went on about it, but she couldn't really listen anymore when the small voice laughed at her. Of course, he didn't think much of it and he probably doesn't think much of the kiss they both shared, apparently on the very same night too. But she couldn't help but wonder if he could assume what she was feeling for him? Did he kiss anybody else? Could he still remember their kiss the way she did?

Why would he when he could have anyone? Harry always loved the attention he got from girls and was just taking advantage of his situation.

But Y/N just wished he wouldn't have brought her into this mess, because her heart was too fragile to come out without any bruises.

He's actually gonna try to let it go. He asks his heart to beat slower each time, but he can't get it right when he sees her in front of him.

With her wide smiles, her bright eyes and the loving charisma that she radiates so naturally, everywhere and at all times, it is impossible for him to keep a clear head. And if he is completely honest with himself, he does not want to keep a clear head when it means that she will not take up most of the space in his brain.

Ever since he had first heard her voice, it had echoed in his ear. Day and night. But it was not a nightmare. On the contrary. Her soft voice sounded like his new favourite song that he could listen to in a continuous loop without ever being saturated by it. Fuck. He would even play it at his concerts, he loved it so much.

That's how beautiful he thought she was.

He never wanted to admit to himself that she had his vulnerable heart in her hand and could do whatever she wanted and he wouldn't stop her. She could ram thousands of knives through it and he would thank her with a painful smile.

He felt pathetic. He felt so helpless. But most, he felt so stupid.

But it got worse when his eyes gleamed with jealousy. The sparks that sparkled for her were mixed with the gasoline that his jealousy fed him. A menacing fire was seething inside him, ready to spread. But it was not a fire of passion that spread a pleasant warmth in his body, but something that could destroy everything around him.

Harry was never a person who longed for revenge or liked to see others suffer. He is really not a sadist, but in that moment he became one.

Because a stranger dared to touch his Y/N where he should not touch her. He wanted to stomp to them and drag him off her.

But he could not do that.

First of all, that wouldn't do him any favors, because it would be just what the the press was waiting for. They already loved to fabricate the wildest stories about him, so, he didn’t really need to give them the satisfaction of a real story.

And second, the more pressing matter, she was not his Y/N. At least not in the way that he would like her to be.

That's why he leaned against the cool wall, sipped on his beer, and watched the two of them with eyebrows drawn together instead of doing anything. At least for now he decided to lay low.

He didn't even understand what she found attractive enough about him to let him talk to her. The stranger seemed like a lowered version of Michael B. Jordan, yet he seemed to be able to make her laugh. Her eyes always sparkled with the stars and Harry wished so much that he was the reason for it and not the prick in front of her.

Jealousy clouded his vision because Y/N felt that the stranger in front of her, whose name was Nick, was not a condescending version but came so damn close to the actor that the sight softened her knees. He bared his straight teeth when the opportunity presented itself and she could swear that she saw her own reflection in them.

“Would you like to continue this conversation in private?” Nick asked, coming dangerously close to her ear. She smelled his strong perfume and felt his hot breath tickling her skin. She sucked the air sharply and bit onto her lower lip as he graced her earlobe. An exciting sensation ran through her sensitive body parts but mostly, she could feel the tingling sensation between her legs. It had been too long since she’s been with a man.

Her fingers ran up and down the edge of her glass as she nodded. She tried not to appear too excited, but she didn't suspect she was doing a good job, as a playful grin spread across his handsome face.

The more she was pleased, the angrier her best friend became, still staring at them with an eagle eye, as if he was ready to grab his prey any minute before anyone else got the chance. Harry couldn't hear what she was saying, nor could he lip-read, which he regretted at that moment, but his alarm bells began to ring when the stranger stood up and took her delicate hand in his.

It hadn't taken him a minute to act and if his brain hadn't been completely clouded he would have thought he was foolish. How could he run after a girl who is only his best friend? She gets to go anywhere with whoever she pleases. Even if it was a Walmart version of an actor.

As he stood just inches away from the guy, he realized what he was doing and how ridiculous he probably looked. It's not like he didn't has his fair share on body counts.

But before he could change his mind, Y/N glimpsed at him with a questioning look. She raised her left eyebrow, almost as if to ask him if everything was okay.

Harry wanted to say no, even scream it out loud. But he choked out what was going through his mind at that moment. “I-I've lost my car keys.”

In his mind, he threw a bunch of curse words at himself and he would have absolutely no problem if a black hole appeared underneath him that could suck him in.

“What?” He heard Y/N's confused voice and the stranger finally looked at him. On his face, Harry could see the amusement again. Of course, he thought Harry was a fool and he, too, admitted to being one.

He swallowed the lump down his throat. “I can't find them anymore.” Harry had no intention of making that sentence sound like a question because it made his obvious lie even more obvious.

“Is it in your po-”

“-No” He nearly blurted it out. “You got to help me.”

Y/N looked sceptically at Harry. She knew him well enough to be sure he would never lose his car keys. He could lose his rings, but he would never lose his car keys. His car collection, which consisted almost entirely of vintage cars, was his pride and joy and he treated them like his own children.

Visibly annoyed and irritated by his actions, she sighed. “Are you sure?”

He just nodded and she struggled with the urge to ditch him to have her fun with Nick. But how could she be so heartless and abandon her best friend, even though he lied to her straight on without batting an eyelid? But somehow his eyebrows furrowed and the nervous lip chewing had gotten to her. So she turned to Nick with an apologetic look, but he understood the situation completely and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry.”

He laughed. “Don't worry about it. I get it.” For a brief moment, Nick looked at Harry and put his best smirk on his face to show him he understood Harry's true intentions. But that didn't stop him from whispering something into Y/N's ear and gently kissing the spot behind her it.

Harry's eyes were about to fly out or Nick was about to fly across the room. He couldn't decide what would happen, but his guess was on the second one.

Y/N nodded after the stranger and when her eyes finally met Harry's they suddenly became cold and annoyed. A shiver ran down his spine when he realized that and he really knows which fuses were blown that he had freed her from that guy.

“I have seen the keys-” he started, but Y/N interrupted him with a horrified laugh.

“Cut the bullshit, Harry. I know you didn't lose your fucking keys.”

He had to swallow hard, but his throat still felt dry. He thought about what he could say to her, but her annoyed look somehow cut off the oxygen to his brain. So he was forced to take his emerald eyes off hers and instead looked through the crowd in the club that was already staring at them.

“Can we settle this somewhere else?” With his painted index finger he pointed in the direction of the curious onlookers, which is why she agreed.

It was at moments like these that she completely forgot who he really was. He is not just her best friend, a colossal pain in her ass, but also an A-list celebrity.

Harry exhaled the hot air, and gratefully grabbed her arm to pull her along.

He pulled her all the way outside, where the cool air whipped Y/N's skin and she only now realized how stuffy it was inside. The glowing moon stared down at them as Harry ran to his car. As they stood in front of it, his eyes drilled holes in her head and she raised her arms on her hips.

“Cat got your tongue?” She first broke the tense silence.

It took a moment longer before he finally found the ability to think clearly again, but his eyes were too busy marveling at her delicate features in the moonlight. He had to admit that the light made her look even more magical and her skin practically glittered. He tried to turn his eyes away from her, but she looked so ethereal and it didn't help him that he got to see so much of her soft skin. To do himself a bittersweet favor, Harry opened his car door with the supposedly lost key, which made Y/N laugh sarcastically and get into the car after him.

She was right.

“I didn't lose my car keys.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

He reached his hand through his frizzy curls, which were slightly sweaty. “The guy was... weird.” He sighed slightly frustrated with her for not dropping the topic but also himself for getting into the mess he was currently in.

“Weird?” Y/N asked, sounding almost amused. “He looked like Michael B. Jordan, for fucks sake!” She couldn’t believe her best friend, because she was usually the one telling him if a person seemed off but he’d ignore her advice. So who did he think he was for rescuing her?

Harry didn't like the feeling that was brewing inside of him that could cause a series of hurtful words to leash out of his mouth. So he simply bit the inside of his cheek. Of course, she thought he looked like him.

“He only wanted to shag you.“ His deep voice spit the words out like venom. Both of his hands gripped the steering wheel hard enough to make his knuckles more visible.

She scoffed. “I was obviously looking for a husband at a club, right?” Y/N rested her back against the soft Italian leather and turned her head to notice his clenched jaw.

He really hated it when she was sarcastic with him and even more when she rolled those pretty eyes of hers.

“Why are you so pissed, H? Not that I ever cockblocked you.”

He tried to stiffen his breathy laughter, because she had no idea what she was doing to him. She did, in fact, do that, just not in the same way Harry just did and maybe it wasn’t fair of him to blame it all on Y/N because she had no idea what was going through his head. But yet Harry felt like she should know that she's living in his daydreams with him, that she's the first thing he thinks of after waking up and the last person to fall asleep to. He occasionally dreamed of her and as the nights got lonelier he’d imagine her laying beside him. He couldn't even shag anyone without thinking of the incredible girl sitting on his passenger's seat right now. He would compare every girl he tried to get into his bed to her and sometimes, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't take the stranger back home, because his heart was aching for somebody else. So yeah, she was a cockblock to him. The most annoying one he's ever had.

“Actually you did. Remember how Chloe was apparently using me for fame?” Chloe was the blonde and bubbly girl who was all over Harry just a few days ago when he and Y/N went to the gym together. She was all over him since the minute he stepped foot into the gym and even though he could see Y/N’s glaring stare on them he flirted back. His best friend even tried to warn him, but he shrugged it off and went through with a bathroom quickie.

And what makes it worse: Chloe wasn’t the only one. There were many more like her.

Thinking back he really didn’t understand why he had done all those things when he was never interested in those girls. Or maybe he does know why. He wanted to make Y/N jealous. See if she would give him any sort of reaction, but that never came. So now thinking back he didn’t understand why thought it was a good idea playing with peoples hearts and give them the two minutes of fame that they craved so badly.

She looked at him with disbelief. “She was! But I guess I’m sorry for caring about your reputation?” Her head slightly bounced off the seat as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I really don’t understand why it’s such a big deal who I shag.”

And honestly Harry wished he would feel the same way, but he just doesn't.

“Because you shouldn’t spread your legs for every guy.”

And Harry wished he just didn't say that.

Her delicate features twisted with anger as she straightened her posture so she could have a better look at him. She wanted to make sure that he really said those words but to her dislike he did.

A bitter taste lingered in her mouth and her whole facial expression turned sour.

“Excuse me? You’re calling me a slut, when you're the one with a new girl every week?” She raised her voice and truly couldn't believe how the conversation progressed from his ‘lost car keys’ to him accusing her of such things.

Harry’s tense fingers gripped slightly at his wild curls, obviously unhappy with his poor choice of words. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Then fucking enlighten me please? Because right now you’re acting like an asshole!” Her heart was beating rapidly and with each heartbeat, she felt a sharp pain shooting through her entire body. Of all people, she would’ve never expected Harry to insult her and make her feel dirty. Almost as if she was easy to have when it was most definitely not the case. But his little accusation broke her heart and her self esteem in a way that she had to question every decision she has made so far.

“It’s just” He started not really knowing where to go with his words. “I fucking like you.”

She sneered not catching on the real meaning behind Harry’s confession. “I like you too, but I don't walk around and call you a man whore.”

How could she be so stupid sometimes? He really wanted to ask her that. Because it was hard enough to admit that once but having to explain it to her was so much worse.

“You don’t get it, Y/N. I really like you.” He watched her face carefully as the panic spread through him. He can’t believe he told her like that, or at all.

Y/N was confused. So extremely confused and angry. Not for lying to her, cockblocking her or initiating that she’s a slut, but for the fact that he had the audacity to do this to their friendship. Once again. She barely had gotten the kiss out of her memories.

“You’re drunk, right?” She picked on her nail polish, slightly taking small bits of it off as she started at him with disbelief. Why couldn’t he just lose his car keys? “This is a joke.”

He didn’t know what to say to her anymore, so he stayed silent and took his eyes off of her.

“Harry, you always do that.”

“Do what?” Now it was his time to be confused.

“You’re not into me. You’re just bored.” She sighed heavily. Y/N didn’t want to reveal what she was thinking of his love life knowing that he wouldn’t like it. But at the end of the day he’s a relationship person. It wouldn’t be too bad if he wouldn’t fall so fast for the first person who gave him a little bit of attention. Because when he’s single he’d get all lonely and eventually falls in love with the first person he sees. It has always been like this, that’s why Y/N refuses to give in to him and let their friendship take the fall. Because Harry never got anything out of these relationships, besides a broken friendship and always a broken heart. “You always do that, you know? H, you just want attention.”

Harry thought he’d be able to smile if she’d slice his heart open, but the little cuts are already painful enough to make his eyes tear up if he wouldn’t fight it. “So my feelings are not valid and I just want attention?” A bitter laugh left his slightly quivering lips. “I think I got enough of that.” He shook his head at himself for letting those words slip out of his mouth. He knew she didn’t feel the same but at least she could’ve let him down less harsh. “You could’ve just said you don't feel the same.”

“Trust me you won’t feel the same when somebody else comes along.” He will, or at least that's what he thought. But it hurt like hell hearing her not taking him seriously.

He started the engine of the car without shooting a single glance her way because looking at Y/N would make him feel worse and he didn't know how much strength he had inside of him to not let his tears appear at this waterline.

He felt stupid. He felt humiliated. But mostly he felt so incredibly broken and scared.

He always knew him and Y/N was never going to be a thing because she didn't feel the same. How could she? She only saw him as her friend and Harry knew she deserves someone better. Someone who could give her the world, when Harry would have to hide her from it.

But Harry was so scared as he took her home and a million thoughts were running through his mind. He probably changed everything between them but he hoped he wasn’t going to lose her completely.

But he couldn't help to wonder if he just ruined their friendship?

It had been a little bit over a week since Y/N had last seen Harry. He dropped her off at her place and before she could say a thing he drove off again. So everything was left unspoken between them when all Y/N wanted to do was to talk it out with him. But she was scared. She didn't know how he’d react or if he'd want to talk to her.

And she’d understand if he didn't.

She knew she hurt him. That was her intention. She knew he would’ve stuck to his feelings if she didn't push him away to save their friendship.

They had come a long way and she wasn't sure if it was worth it throwing their close bond away for Harry’s small interest in her.

She’d be lying if she said the thought never crossed her mind. In fact, it did way too often for her own liking. It was just too hard to be platonic with him when he was too good at using his charm on her.

But at the same time that was another problem. He did it with everyone. So how could Y/N be certain he wouldn't get tired of her after they'd let their feelings take the upper hand?

No matter how hard she tried to ban Harry from her thoughts he’d always find his way through her thick skull. It was impossible for her to forget him when the image of his pained face was still haunting her and the only sound she heard was his strained voice.

She just hoped he as doing alright. That he wouldn't take it too personally and would get over it. The best-case scenario would be that they could laugh about it one day and would wonder how he could ever think to have feelings for his best friend.

But for them to reach that stage one of those stubborn people would have to give in and Y/N wasn’t sure who would be brave enough to take the first step. It has never been her strong suit and neither was it Harry’s.

Y/N spent her whole afternoon by being lazy. A quality she had started to be familiar with. It took her a while till she actually got out of her warm bed and before she really kicked off her day, she had a quick scroll through Instagram. But she regretted that almost instantly.

Pictures of Harry and a blonde girl were plastered all over the internet and she couldn't help but narrow her eyes at the familiar face. Chloe.

She bit the insides of her cheek a little bit too harshly as they seemed very cozy with one another at a concert last night, both of them dancing and hugging each other in a way Harry never did with Y/N. His hands were a little bit too low and her mouth came his dangerously close, but there weren't any pictures of them kissing, which made her sigh in relief.

She shut down her phone and threw it onto her bed and crawled underneath her blanket.

Y/N knew she shouldn't trust whatever she saw in those pictures because a bad angle could make anything look fishy. She experienced this firsthand when she and Harry became friends. Everybody seemed to believe that something was going on between them and an innocent hug could be interpreted as a passionate goodbye of two heartbroken lovers.

But no matter how hard she tried to tell herself that those are just pictures and no real confession, her brain wouldn't let her believe it.

If Harry liked her so much he would try to talk to her instead of waltzing to the next best thing. Y/N knew how he was and she’d predicted the unavoidable outcome. Sooner or later Harry would've become bored of her and leave her for someone new, someone more exciting and their friendship would be at the exact same place as it was at that moment.

She didn't like how both outcomes predicted how her heart would beat painfully in her chest and she wondered if Harry’s heart felt that even if it was for just a second.

It’s been exactly 22 days since Harry and Y/N last interacted with one another and Y/N couldn't help but count the days herself. She doesn't know when she picked that up along the way but at least it was getting easier for her to get out of her bed in the morning. So she thought it was better for her to look at the bright sight.

Besides she was happy to not have seen any more pictures of Harry and Chloe. So she believed it was nothing serious to him, even if the little voice echoed in her head how they both have gotten better at hiding from the rude photographers. But even if they weren't going out anymore she wouldn't be shocked. When has something like this ever meant anything to him?

But she banished those thoughts as she tried to go on with her everyday life.

Y/N really couldn't believe how much he was actually involved in her life. It could be an ordinary situation where she saw something cute, took a picture of it and her hand immediately swiped to Harry’s name so he could have a look at it himself. It happened without her knowledge and if she wasn't so fast she might have sent him accidentally a message already.

But it wasn't just that. It would happen if she got a coffee before going to the gym. Even though she had to go to a different café after changing her gym to avoid running into Harry. She’d order two drinks before it was too late and she stood their like an idiot wondering what she should do with the bullet coffe she hated but he always drank.

And what was more embarrassing was the fact how she would always think of Harry first, before she thought of anybody else, including herself.

That’s why her heart broke every day a little bit harder instead of trying to heal itself, but she slowly learned to get used to the heart ache.

But the sudden realizations kept her up all night and she wondered how she could've missed the signs when they were lying right in front of her very own, and apparently very blind, eyes.

Maybe it was because of her blind eyes or her slowness after working multiple hours without catching a break or her not being able to fight back the urge anymore after doing so successfully for 22 days that she sent Harry a picture of a cute dog she had found on Instagram.

When her brain finally processed what she had done, the horror on her face was obvious. She tried to delete the message but to her misfortune Harry had already seen it.

The grey bubble appeared which made her stop breathing as she waited anxiously for his response. Was he going to tell her to delete his number and leave him alone?

Harry – 09:34 PM

Can I come over?

Finally, Y/N let some oxygen inside of her again. She had to debate a bit with herself and tried to make up an excuse why he couldn’t come over. But she decided against it.

Y/N – 09:36 PM

Sure

She wanted to add a ’please’ but decided against it as she didn't want to sound desperate.

After she had sent the message her legs were bouncing up and down and she’d casually get up and rehearse a conversation that might happen.

She was nervous. She was so extremely nervous because she didn't what he was going to say.

But she knew what she had to say. She would do anything in her powder to avoid ending their friendship because the last few days had already felt like hell to her. How was she supposed to live like that for the rest of her life?

And when he finally rang her doorbell her mumbling stopped and she stared at the door trying to look if it really was Harry behind it. But she had no supervision so she began moving towards it. With unsteady steps, she opened it up to reveal a distraught looking Harry.

His puffy eyes looked even darker and heavier compared to when he was hungover and the little beard he grew made him more attractive but also proved that he hadn't been taking care of himself in a while, as his hair also looked a little bit greasy from where she stood.

They both just stared at each other, unable to exchange words but Y/N had hoped that she looked better than him. But she couldn't be positive about it because she wasn't exactly taking care of herself either.

Still, in silence, she opened the door a little bit wider to let him come him. When he did she caught a small whiff of his fresh cologne and her eyes wanted to tear up right at that moment.

She had missed him so much that just his scent made her already feel more at ease and all she wanted to do was to collapse in his chest and let him pull her closer by wrapping his strong arms around her body.

She wanted him close to her again.

For a moment the silence still remained and their were staring at their feet before they both started talking at the same time.

“I’m so sorry.” Did the two of them say at the same time with the same pain lingering in their voices.

He looked up first with an hopefull expression. He was so scared that she wouldn’t say anything and simply tell him to get his stuff out of her place. He was fearing for a text like that for so long, even today when her name popped up in his notifications. But once he saw the dog picture he was able to relax a bit and didn't hesitate when he asked if he could come over.

Now they were both standing there and hoping that it wasn't the last time they'd see each other.

“No, don’t be. It's my fault.” She started to say, still looking at her feet and playing with the hem of her sweatshirt as she stood there awkwardly in the middle of her living room, not knowing what to do with her body. “I shouldn’t have dismissed your feelings.”

A minor pain shot through his body as he remembered the heartbreaking memory. But he couldn’t be mad at her for doing so and just by looking at her he was sure he would never take that personally, especially after initiating that she was easy to have. “I-I know you don't sleep around and you don’t open your legs for everyone. I’m sorry about that. And lying to you.” He shook his head as she tried to speak again and at the fact that he actually said all those things to her.

“And I’m so sorry for being so bitter after the kiss. I should have not let my anger out on you. You were drunk.” She finally dared to look into Harry’s conflicted face. His hair was a little bit longer than she remembered as his curls seemed to tickle his neck and the patchy beard made him look more mature than he did before.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What kiss?” Harry’s brain tried to remember when the kiss could have happened but there were no memories of him kissing the girl in front of him. He was sure he could not forget kissing an angel, or could he? “We kissed?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, at the party?” She bit her lip and tried to play it cool. “You kissed Naomi on that day too.”

“Wait a minute, I kissed you too?” As his brain started to work and a distant remembrance popped up when he pressed his lip to Naomi’s in a drunken state. But he could not remember kissing Y/N, but he wishes he did. “How could I forget that?”

Y/N laughed trying to ease the situation when the tension was becoming too much for her. “It’s not like it meant something to you.”

And with that, she did not only hurt her heart but also Harry’s, who actually showed her what an effect her words had on him. “Is that why you think I’m not being serious?”

Y/N didn’t want to nod her head. She didn't want to give him an answer he was waiting for so long. So she didn't, even if both of them could stop cutting deeper into each other's hearts.

Slowly Harry got closer to her. The wooden floor underneath him creaking with every step until he was close enough to touch her face gently and make her look at him. “Naomi doesn't matter. Chloe doesn't matter. No one does. But if I remembered kissing you, I would be over the moon.” His heart was beating at high speed as he confessed his feelings, hoping that she would too if she was into him. “Because you do matter to me.” With his last part of the confession, he pressed his forehead to hers and tried to hold her close. His eyes closed shut and he focused only on her breathing.

Y/N’s feelings were all over the place. She was happy. She was scared and she felt nauseous. Was this all happening? Was the guy she has been crushing on for a few years now finally confessing his feelings for her?

“You don’t remember the kiss?” Her voice was hoarse when asked and Harry almost immediately shook his head. “Shall I refresh your memory?“

His eyes were about to bulge out of his head and his hands gripped her face a little bit harder. He stepped away from her a little so he could see the sarcasm on her face. But she wasn't joking. She was being sincere and once Harry realized that his lips came crashing into hers.

His feathery lips sucked on hers before he opened his mouth a little and teased her with his tongue to let him in. Once she did he wanted to moan into her mouth at the sweet taste she provided him with. Her hands were roaming in his hair and he didn't even notice when she slipped his beanie off of his head and started tugging at his curls.

This is all he ever wanted. That is all she ever wanted.

She was amazed by how soft his lips were and he couldn’t grasp the fact that she tasted sweeter than her scent and so much more addictive after getting a taste.

Slowly Y/N started to walk backward until she felt the couch on her legs. She pulled Harry on top of her when she sat down and hungrily continued the kiss after the short break.

His hands were sliding down her face, her neck and eventually came to a halt as he touched her hips to keep her steady. He can't imagine how she let him kiss her again. It all felt like a dream to both of them and they were not ready to wake up anytime soon.

He slipped his lips off hers, trying his best to catch his breath, before trailing kisses up and down her neck. Her small hands we're still playing with his curls and when she started to pull at them he moaned into her neck. He had waited so long for this to happen.

Y/N pushed her chest into his and once he pushed her into the soft cushions he continued to kiss her body. His kisses we're short but he didn't forget a single spot to love. She watched him with hungry eyes as he began to move lower and lower until he was between her legs. He looked up between her thighs, finding Y/N in a needy state. “Is this ok?”

She nodded and waited patiently for him to continue.

“Talk to me, love. Tell me.” His voice sounded so soft and she could swear she felt a tingle between her legs because of his voice and the nickname he had used.

“Yes. Continue, please.” He giggled at how breathless she already sounded and because of those big eyes she made.

“Your wish is my command.” His fingers slipped off her grey shorts and he had to stiffen his laughter as he saw her Spongebob panties.

Her face heated up and her cheeks were painted a faint rosy color. “Don’t laugh. I wasn’t expecting for this to happen.” With both of her hands, she covered up her face, clearly embarrassed. But Harry couldn't care less what she wore, in his eyes she always looked ravishing and like a goddess walking this earth.

“Don’t hide your face, love.” He moved his body up again, just to stroke her cheek and looked deeply into her eyes. “You look absolutely stunning.” The intensity of his stare made her knees weak and goosebumps run up her spine.

She nodded her head when he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her lips. “Let me make you feel so pretty.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Let me make up for what happened.” He kissed the heated skin of her forehead and stroke her hair behind her ear. “Let me make you mine.”

She nodded again, but when he rose his eyebrow she expressed herself, how he requested from her. “Make me yours, Harry.” With a smirk, he kissed her lips slowly, bit onto her lip, and pulled on it, which earned him a small whimper from her. A breathy laugh left his mouth and with his right hand, he slid down her body and gripped the hem of her panties. One last time he searched for disapproval or even just hesitation in her eyes, but when he could not find that, he dove right into the action.

His hand slit into her underwear and he started to rub small circles on her clit. He was soft at first, very careful and he didn't want to destroy his flower, his little petal, who looked too good for him. Who was too good for him. She closed her eyes and through her open mouth, quiet moans slipped through it. Harry was too focused on her delicate features to pick up the speed, only when she took his hand and started grinding on it, he started to put all his energy to make her feel good.

His long fingers pinched her pulsating clit and he could feel how wet she had already gotten, as his fingers started to slip. “Do I make you feel good?” He looked at her with those dimples appearing in his cheeks and he realized at that moment that he wanted her beneath him so many more times in his life. Only her, for the rest of his life.

“Yes.”, she moaned as his finger teased her wet slit. ”I need more.”

“Tell me what you need.” She opened her eyes, looked at him pleadingly as she moaned out his name. Harry swore he could cum if he saw her like this again.

“Want you inside me.” She kissed Harry’s cheek and moved her kisses along his sharp jawline, desperately searching for his soft spot. But before she found it he held her head back, to make her look at him.

“Not today. I need to make it up to you, angel.“ With that he lowered himself until his face was right between her thighs. With anticipation she bit her lip and stared at the green eyed boy, who was slowly removing her underwear. Her face was heating up, and the electricity she felt, whenever he touched her, made her want him even more.

“God. You’re so pretty.” He admired her one last time before his hands found her swollen clit to play with. “You’re so wet for me, baby.” He moaned and felt his own pants tightening around him.

His circles became rougher and faster and she couldn’t help but grasp his hair in her fists. Low moans escaped her mouth and she couldn’t help but arch her back.

“I want to taste you so bad.” He breathed on her pussy. “Can I taste you?” He looked up from between her legs to catch a glimpse of her nodding her head in ecstasy.

“Yes, please.” It didn’t take him long until he licked her slit clean before he focused all his attention to her clit again. With his plump lips he sucked it in and swirled his tongue around it.

Y/N jolted up from the pleasure she got and tugged at his hair to pull him closer to her. He let out a breathy laugh only intensifiying her feelings when she felt his mouth vibrate against her. “Harry.” She moaned as his fingers found their way to her wet entrance. He parted her lips and buried his tongue inside her again for a quick taste before he let his fingers do their magic.

At first it was just one, then two, before he started pumping his fingers in and out of her and he kept his mouth on her clit. Sweat was forming on his forehead and Y/N tried her best to keep his hair out of his face so she could see him whenever he looked at her. Her walls started clenching around him and her legs were starting to get tired.

Harshly she gripped the mattress and tried her best not to scream when he hit that spot inside her that made her see stars.

“You’re so thight, baby.” Harry moaned after he flicked his tongue over her clit harshly and his fingers were picking up on speed. “Do you want to cum, love?” She nodded her head, eyes closed, much to Harry’s dislike. “Talk to me.” His movements came to a halt which made her thrust her hips forward desperately.

“Please, Harry.”

“Please, what?”

“Please make me cum.”

He laughed before he buried his head between her legs again and began to eat her out as if she was his last meal and she couldn’t help but let her legs shake, and those moans out, when she felt the beard scratch her on all the right places. Harry was painfully hard himself but hearing and tasting her made him almost combust in his pants.

When his fingers picked up speed and she pinched her own nipple, her walls began to thighten around him and with one last moan she let herself go. “Fuck. Harry!” She closed her eyes shut, her back arched off the white material and helplessly she tried to breathe again.

Harry watched her with such adoration in his eyes as she came down and gave her pussy one last kiss before he held her face in his hands. She didn’t care that he was still covered in her juices and smeared it in her hair.

With a playful grin he looked her up and down and once her breathing calmed down a bit she gave him a small peck on his dimple, making it deeper on his cheek. Butterflies erupted in both bellies and a giddly feeling made both of them feel warm inside. With his thumb he stroke her cheek and rested his forehead on hers again.

“Are you mine now?”

#harry style fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles oneshot #harry x reader #bestfriends to lovers

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blacknight1230 · 4 years

Text

The Past Catches Up With You

OUAT Peter Pan Imagine

Prompt: “I know what I have to do. But going back means I’ll have to face my past. I’ve been running from it for so long” & “Once you’re grown up, you can never come back.”

The sound if arrows flying through the air then hitting their target and the clashing of swords filled the area. “Nice one, Devin. Now try letting go of the arrow when you breath out,” you instructed one of the Lost Boys. Devin wordlessly nodded and did what you told him, his arrow hitting the target dummy straight in the head. “Excellent work. Rufio, don’t do such fancy moves. It’s about hitting the target in the weak points, not showing off,” you commanded. “Whatever you say, mom,” Rufio sassed, ignoring your helpful tips. You narrowed your eyes at him and strode up to him, quickly knocking him off his feet with a few well placed punches and kicks. “And this is why Pan ordered me to train you boys. You guys are good fighters, but he wants the best, so you either listen to what I say or you’ll end up worse than this,” you scolded the dazed teen. You walked away, towards Pan’s second-in-command, and one of your best friends, Felix.

“Nice way to show them who’s boss, (y/n),” Felix complemented as he sharpened his sword. “Thanks, Felix. These boys have sure have authority problems when it comes to someone other than Pan giving them orders,” you said, sitting next to Felix on a log. “They listen to me, though,” Felix pointed out. “True. I have theory that they don’t respect me as much cause I’m the only girl here. And I happen to be one of Pan’s most trustworthy,” you told the scar-faced teen. “It’s possible. The boys aren’t too keen on newcomers. You being a girl doesn’t make matters better.” You rolled your eyes; you’ve been here for a couple of years, but time on Neverland was different than everywhere else. “I’ve earned this position despite being a girl. They should know that Pan doesn’t just trust me without a proper reason,” you said, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Speak of the devil,” Felix said, motioning his head towards a figure appearing from the green foliage.

Peter Pan stood to the side of the training ground, eyes intensely watching the boys as they practiced archery, swording fighting, and sparring. Authority and dark magical power radiated from his figure, his green eyes glowing as they seemingly stared into the very existence of his Lost Boys. He was expressionless as he mentally noted what the boys were doing wrong and right. The sight before you made you feel warm, but you tried not to show how the piper affected you. Said boy locked eyes with you, a smirk breaking out onto his lips as he strode over to you. “Tired, love. Are the boys too much for you to handle?” he teased, raising one magnificently sculpted eyebrow. “More like they can’t handle me. Rufio over there is still bandaging his hurt pride when I knocked him to the ground for back talking,” you chuckled, eyeing said boy. He was grumpily pouting on a wooden log across from where you were. Peter found this rather amusing, a sly smirk on his face. “His loss, love. Come, I think the boys had enough training for today,” he said, getting up from the log. He whistled loudly, getting all the, boys attention and told them, “Alright, boys training’s over! Get back to camp if you want your fill of dinner before its gone!”

A stampede of hungry, teenage boys rushed towards the main camp, dirt and dust flying as they did so. You camly got up and followed the horde of Lost Boys, used to their frenzied antics. Peter walked alongside you, as you took your time walking the path back to the main camp. “I’m still surprised you can put up with our rowdiness. Being a princess and all, I’d expect you complain endlessly about how ‘wild’ we are,” Peter said as you traveled through the jungle of Neverland. “Hey, I was a rebel princess. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t even be here,” you defended yourself, punching the King of Neverland playfully, but hard, in the arm. Pan allowed you to hit him, as you knew he could easily stop you, and playfully cried out in pain.

Before you were the first Lost Girl on Neverland, you were a princess, although not first in line to inherit your kingdom. Unlike the other inhabitants of Neverland, you were not from the Enchanted Forest or the Land Without Magic. You were a princess from another dimension, and you hated your royal roots. You hated the stuffy dresses, the countless rules, the strict and stone faced members of the royal house ... hell, you couldn’t even talk to or hang out with anyone that wasn’t humanoid or a royal non-humanoid from an allied kingdom. Like the monsters that were repressed by your people. It was suffocating and you didn’t conform to your families strict ideals.

As such, your family finally had enough of your “rebelliousness” and decided to send you off to an institution know for “correcting” wayward princesses. You, in turn, had enough of royalty and fled your home without a word, seeking out the freedom you dearly longed for. Eventually, you found your way to Neverland, encountering Pan and his Lost Boys, who met your arrival with them encircling you with weapons drawn, aimed to kill. The only reason you were still alive today was that you were able to hear Pan’s flute, meaning you were lost, and therefore part of the Lost Boys. It took awhile for everyone to trust you, especially Pan, but it happened and you were never felt more like you were home.

Back to the present, you and Peter finally reached the main camp, a raging bonfire going on in the middle of the layout of tents and huts. The boys were either chowing down or were dancing to the beat of the drums. Peter left you to go include himself in the boys merry making as you grabbed a bite to eat. Grabbing a slice of meat from the day’s hunt, you silently greeted a few of the boys with a raise of your cup. The younger boys dragged you to sit with them, happily chatting away as they told you about their day.

Soon you were done with your meal and the music called to you. Like you were under a spell, you jumped into the frey of wildly dancing bodies, letting the music guide your movements. You danced freely with your fellow lost brothers, your mind focusing on the sound of the pan flute and the drums. As you danced around the fire, you saw Peter staring intensely at you with his green eyes, the light of the bonfire casting shadows across his face, intensifying the strikingness of his attractive features. You couldn’t help but keep his gaze as you danced, enjoying the way he was looking at you with such intensity, an undistinguishable emotion flowing in his eyes.

Unfortunately, the party was interrupted by a loud sound and a bright light. Everyone stopped in the middle of what they were doing, staring at a hole ripped into the fabric of space and time right near the center of the campgrounds. The portal seemed to shine brighter as two figures appeared from the other side of it. As they stepped through, the portal closed behind them, allowing you to see their features now that the unnatural brightness was gone. One of the figures was a teenage boy, characterized with tan skin, dark brown hair, and a mole on his right cheek. He was wearing red hoodie over a light grey shirt, dark grey skinny jeans, and olive/white sneakers on his slender build. His brown eyes eyed the Lost Boys nervously, his hand twitching over the hilt of the sword in his sheath. The other figure was a teenage girl with long blonde hair, light blue eyes, and fair skin. On her head, she wore a magenta headband with devil horns, paired with a green and mint collared short sleeved dress, pink and purple striped leggings, white boots with pink tips and a star on each heel, along with a black spider necklace. But the most astonishing part about the girl was the pink heart shaped marks she had on her cheeks.

Peter and the Lost Boys immediately surrounded the two newcomers, weapons pointed at them. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my island?” Peter growled. The boy immediately pulled out his sword and took a defensive stance. The girl on the other hand, raised her hands up and yelled, “Stop! We’re not here to hurt anyone! We’re just looking for someone!” Peter dismissed her claim, saying, “Whoever you are looking for is not here! Now leave before my boys and I make you wish you never stepped foot here!” The boy raised their weapons, slowly drawing closer to the new girl and boy. The girl now raised her up hands up and took a defensive stance, her hands glowing purple with magic.

Before any violence could come to a head, you shouted a command out to the Lost Boys and Peter, breaking the tense air. “Everyone put your weapons down!” you shouted, voice strong and dominating. The Lost Boys, confused by the order, slightly lowered their weapons and allowed you to walk through the crowd of them to the new visitors. As you showed yourself to the newcomers, the blonde haired girl’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock. “ (Y/n)?” the girl said. “Star,” you said breathlessly, unable to bite back the smile that made its way to your face. Star’s hands stopped glowing and she tackled you ina hug, which you gladly returned. “Um, what’s going on?” the hoodie wearing boy asked, completely clueless. “Marco, this is my cousin I told you about? I’m pretty sure I told you about my favorite family member,” Star explained, looking at her friend while still holding on you.

“Oh, isn’t this precious,” Pan sneered, interrupting the moment. “A family reunion. How wonderful that they’ve come to visit.” You decided to ignore Peter and his terrible attitude, continuing to talk to your four-years younger cousin. “How did you find me, Star? Neverland isn’t on any map and can’t be visited through ordinary means,” you asked. “I was able to use your old tiara to finding out what dimension you were in! Pretty cool right,” Star bragged a giant smile on her face. Before you could say another word, Peter got in between the two of you, creating a distance of a few feet. “Peter!” you exclaimed angrily. “What the hell?” “I don’t care that you’re her family. I want you off my island. (y/n) has already told me about the way you treated her and I don’t want someone like you here because of it,” he coldly told Star. “Hey, man, back off!” Star’s friend, Marco, yelled stepping in front of Star protectively. The Lost Boys didn’t like this, murder in their eyes as they crowded around you four, fingers itching to use their weapons. “Everyone stop! I don’t want any fighting!” you shouted, dreading for any blows coming to a head. The Lost Boys slightly calmed down, but they were still tense.

“Peter, Star was the only one in my family that I could be myself around. I see I rubbed off on you a bit,” you said. “You guys keep talking about our family as if they were abusive, keeping you locked up and so on,” Star pointed out. “I forget you were too young to understand at the time. Grandma Etheria and the rest of the Butterfly family constantly looked down at me, finding fault in everything I did. I didn’t dress right, talk right, sit right, walk right ... and they let me know. It practically destroyed my self-esteem. And to make matter worse, Grandma Etheria decided to send me to St. Olga’s,” you explained to your younger cousin. “Oh no, not St. O’s!” Star exclaimed in horror. “Please don’t tell me they tried to turn you into a mindless ‘perfect’ princess!” As she said this, she grabbed your forearms and shook you a bit. “Calm down, Star, I didn’t go to St. O’s. I left home before I was forcibly shipped off. I had a pair of dimension scissors and used them to hop from dimension to dimension until I eventually found my way here,” you continued, smiling when you reminisced about finding Neverland, your true home.

“I’m happy you found a place you could finally be yourself. If I wasn’t so desperate for your help, I wouldn’t even ask you this,” Star said. This worried you; what did she want you to do? Star quickly answered your question before you voiced it, saying, “I need you to come back to Mewni with me.” “What?!” you shouted, eyes wide and mouth agape. “I’m sorry, but I really need your help! My mom has disappeared and I can’t find her, the Butterfly castle and kingdom are destroyed by Eclipsa’s half-monster daughter and she escaped her crystal! I can’t do this on my own and everything is in disarray!” Star cried.

All this new information shocked you, making you stand there in silence. Peter decided to step in, angrily setting in Star’s face. “You might be royalty, but I’m the king here. I say who steps foot on and leaves my island. This includes (y/n). Since she’s lost, that means she belongs here and with me. Shfe’s mine, and she’s not going anywhere off this island,” he threatened. Star stood her ground, staring into his harsh green eyes that seemed to glow with dark power. “Then you don’t know (y/n), because she hates other people making choices for her.” She turned towards you and continues, saying, “(y/n), I’m sorry for our family treating you so terribly and I understand your reason for running away. But I still care for you and so does my mother, both of us missing you terribly when you left. If you still love us as much as we love you, I beg you to help me. I need you, my mom needs you, Mewni needs you!”

(y/n) could only stand there in silence, which Peter mistook for her not wanting to return to her home, while in reality she was pondering over her beloved cousin’s words. “Get off my island. I never want to see your faces again,” he threatened, before whistling loudly, causing the Lost Boys to snap into a a violent, wild frenzy. The area was quickly filled with the sounds of weapons clashing, cries of pain, and angry shouts as Star and Marco fought the Lost Boys. Luckily, Star and Marco were successfully able to defend themselves, despite being greatly outnumbered. Star’s voice filled the air as she shouted spells and Marco yelled as he used karate moves/defended himself with his sword. You tried yelling at both sides to stop fighting, but neither side listened to you, either not hearing you over all the noise or not caring enough to listen to you. This made you angry, so angry you used your magic to cast a powerful spell to end the violence.

Unlike Star, you didn't need to verbally say a spell to use your magic, simply sending out a wave of bluish-white magic to emit from your magically glowing figure. As the wave of magic hit the Lost Boys, Peter, Star, and Marco, they were enveloped into a quartz of crystal, frozen in place. You sighed as you stood past the crystal prisons of your fellow Lost Boys, stopping at Peter’s crystal, staring at his evil smirk on his face and the magic accumulated in his hands. “You just couldn’t wait and let me think for a moment could you, “ you said sadly. You used your magic to reverse the spell, and on Star and Marco as well. The three teens fell to the ground, gasping for breath. “I’m so sorry, guys. This was the only way to get you to stop fighting and listen to me,” you apologized, helping Star up first. “Was that the Crystal Imprisonment Spell that Rhombulas uses? Where did you learn it?” Star asked, amazed that you could do such advanced magic. “Glossaryck used to give me private lessons. He said that I needed to learn magic, too, in case something happens. But he wasn’t specific on what that was,” (y/n) explained. “That sounds like Glossaryck.”

You turned towards Peter as he growled, getting up from the ground and his green eyes trained on you. “You little ... How dare you use your magic on me!” he yelled, “Release the Lost Boys right now (y/n)!” “You left me no choice, Peter. You all were attacking my family and I couldn’t just stay by,” you said sternly, brows furrowed as you scolded him. “How can you defend them? They’re the main reason why you are on Neverland in the first place! Or haven’t you forgot that?” Pan seethed. “I haven’t forgotten what they did to me, Pan. But this just isn’t about my family anymore. My homeland is in danger and you’re wrong to think I’ll just sit around and watch shit hit the fan!” you yelled, turning around to walk away, thinking that was the end of it. But it wasn’t and Pan wanted to let you know it. “Oh really? Well, know this, princess, you’ll eventually be disappointed as nothing is going to change. You’ll still be the miserable, insecure, little girl you were when you came here, scrutinized by your family and your people,” Peter threatened, teeth clenched and pure hatred seeping from his pores.

You stopped, back still facing Peter. Said boy smirked, thinking he won this argument. But what you said surprised the male, saying, without looking at him, “I know what I have to do now, Peter. I know going back means I’ll have to face my past. I’ve been running from it for so long but I have to face it sooner or later. And I choose now.” Pan stood there shocked, mouth open a bit as he contemplated your words, and watched as Marco effortlessly opened a portal to another dimension with a pair of scissors, then entered the hole in the fabric of time and space while mumbling about ‘nachos,’ whatever that was. Star on the other hand, nervously looked behind her at Peter, seemingly contemplating if taking (y/n) away from her current home was a good thing, before regretfully entering the swirling portal.

Before the (h/c) haired girl followed the two, she turned her head to the side, looking at so called King of Neverland. “I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can, Peter, to my home, the Lost Boys, and you,” she said, so much raw emotion held in her eyes. But Peter didn’t care, only focussing on the frustration that took over his heart and mind. “I forbid you from leaving, (y/n)! When you leave this island, you’ll eventually grow up, and once you’re grown up, you can never come back!” he shouted angrily. (Y/n) physically flinched and quickly turned her head back towards the portal, trying not to show the tears in the corners of her eyes. “Goodbye, Peter. Until we meet again.” And with those words, she stepped through the portal and left Neverland, seemingly forever.

As the portal closed behind her, (y/n)’s magic seemed to leave with her, as the crystals imprisoning the Lost Boys started to melt, freeing them from their containment. Felix was the first to get his bearings, stroding over to Peter and placing a hand on his shoulder, said King of Neverland not tearing his eyes away from the spot in which (y/n) walked into the portal. “Pan, what happened? Where’s (y/n) and the other two?” Felix asked his fearless leader, a scowl on his scarred face. “She’s gone, Felix. She left Neverland,” Peter told his second-in-command emotionlessly.

Before the taller male could question him some more, the green-clad boy turned and walked away from the center of the campgrounds, towards his own private tent. Felix knew he was taking the Lost Girl’s departure harder than he let on. But he gave his trustful leader some space, allowing Peter to let his emotions loose in private. “(Y/n), I hope you know what you’re doing,” Felix said quietly to himself, before moving to help his fellow Lost Boys recover from the recent events.

~ Time Skip ~

“Again! I expect you to redo everything until you lot get this right! I have no excuse for weak, boys in my army of Lost Boys!” Peter seethed. It was several months, possibly a year, since (y/n) left Peter and Neverland. At first, Peter was angry, at (y/n) and her cousin, for leaving Neverland. Then, he was angry at himself for letting the Lost Girl leave, thinking he should have done everything he could from letting the girl leave. Eventually, Peter’s anger faded away and was replaced with a longing to see his favorite girl again. It was only until (y/n) left did Peter realize he felt something for the rebel princess, seeing her more as just another inhabitant of Neverland and a pawn in his games. And when he realized this non-platonic feelings, he regretted being so heartless to (y/n) before she left, hating himself for letting that be the last thing he ever said to the (h/c) haired girl.

Since (y/n) left Neverland, Peter changed, unfortunately for the worse. He was harsher and more cruel towards his Lost Boys and those that had the misfortune of being his enemy. All Pan cared for now was power, stopping at nothing to increase his magical strength by achieving immortality, regardless of the lives he had to take. And that meant he was setting in motion the events that would lead to taking the heart of the Truest Believer from a young boy to remain young forever.

Hence, the current intense training session the Lost Boys were doing, as Pan need them to be prepared for everything and anything, failure not being an option. “Who knew (y/n) leaving effect Pan this much? He’s been running us into the ground during training even since the girl left him,” Rufio mumbled to a couple of other Lost Boys. Pan heard this, and he did not like it. “What was that Rufio?” he snarled and turned towards the wise-cracking Lost Boy. Rufio’s face paled in fear as Pan strode towards him, his friends that once surrounded him nowhere to be seen, as they fled from Pan’s wrath.

The poor Lost Boy stood quaking in his boots as the King of Neverland stood in front of him, the slightly shorter leader wrapping a hand around Rufio’s throat, crushing his windpipe and preventing any air from reaching his lungs. Rufio gasped from breath as the other Lost Boys stood there in fear induced silence, unable to do anything but watch. “You’ve been mouthing off too much for my tastes. Looks like I’m going to have to put a stop to it permanently,” Peter growled. He shoved his hand into his chest, fingers wrapping around the boys heart. “Please, no...” Rufio pleaded.

Pan was just about to rip the boys heart out of his chest and then crush it to dust, when a loud noise and bright light shook the camp site. Everyone turned their heads to the sky, where a giant multicolored portal hung just below the treetops. Something or someone, came out of it, falling to the ground, and the portal closed violently with a loud bang. Peter and the Lost Boys were unable to do anything, as the figure got up from the ground and their features finally revealed by the light of the fire. (H/c) locks framed a (face shape) face, (e/c) eyes looking over everything as a bright smile broke out on the female’s (thin/plump) lips.

Felix was the first to break the silence, calling out the name of the person. “(y/n)? Is that really you?” the second-in-command asked, shocked that the girl had finally returned to Neverland. “Yeah, it's me,” the former Lost Girl replied a smile on her face. Felix immediately caught the girl in a hug, picking up the (much/slightly) shorter girl in his excitement. It seemed the spell was broken, as the Lost Boys immediately started moving towards the former Lost Girl, chatter filling the silence.

“Welcome back, (y/n),” Felix said to the girl, after he pulled away from her. “It’s great to be back,” (y/n) replied, her face so full of light and joy. Her (e/c) eyes caught Peter’s, causing the girl to stare straight into the piper’s eyes. He was stunned; here she was, the girl Peter has been obsessing over ever since she left, popping out of the blue, acting as if she never left in the first place. Their longing glaze was broken by a younger Lost Boy tugging on (y/n)’s hand, her attention turning towards the little one. “(Y/n), will you be staying here? Please don’t leave us again,” he said, his voice honey sweet and blue eyes looking at the (h/c) girl with pleading eyes. “Don’t worry, Jack,” (y/n) said, lowing herself so she could be eye level with the young boy. “I won’t be leave you.”

She rose to her full height and announced with a loud voice, “In fact, I will never have to leave Neverland again. From this moment forward, this island will be my forever home!” The campsite erupted in cheers and howls, all the Lost Boys loudly showing their approval. “If that’s the case then, let’s celebrate! To our one and only Lost Girl!” Felix cheered. As if it wasn’t already possible, the boys got even louder, happily cheering at the chance to party. Peter could only stare on wordlessly, as (y/n) was swept away by several Lost Boys, losing his sight on the magnificent girl.

~ Time Skip ~

The Lost Boys howled in delight as the drums were banged and the fire in the center of the campsite crackled. Peter watched from the side lines as they danced wildly. But his gaze was focused on one very special dancer. His green eyes followed (y/n), watching every move of her limbs and bend of her body as she danced without a care in the world. She was one with the music as she her body followed the rhythm of the drums. Peter’s eyes caught (y/n)’s (e/c) ones, everything around him seeming to slow down as did so.

He immediately tore his gaze away from her, pretending to be watching Felix wrestle some unfortunate soul into the dirt ground. In the corner of his eye, he saw (y/n) stop her lively dancing and steadily make his way towards him. Peter felt his breath get caught in his chest as she came closer, but was able to calm himself down before (y/n) got close enough to notice the effect she had on him.

“Enjoying the party?” she asked him, leaning against the bark of a tree next to him. “Of course. I enjoy seeing my boys let loose for once. The drinks help a bit, too,” he replied, gesturing towards the wooded cup in his hand. (Y/n) gazed out at rowdy group of wild teenage boys in front of her, a closed-mouth smile on her face. “I missed this. The freedom, how carefree everything is, not having any responsibilities,” she admitted. “You missed all of this? Even Rufio’s attitude?” he asked, surprised.

(Y/n) let out a short laugh, music to Peter’s ears. “Is it so surprising I missed my home. There wasn’t a day where I didn’t long to come back here and just let loose,” (y/n) continued, (e/c) eyes glowing in the firelight as she stared out at the wild party goers. It was silent for a little bit, a hint of awkwardness in the air. “So, um, what exactly happened back on Meowy?” Peter spoke up, desperately trying to break the silence. “Mewni. And so much happened. Everything has changed. And I couldn’t be happier,” (y/n) explained, a smile on her face as she reminisced. “Tell me about it. I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Well, I won’t go into the long and detailed history, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to hear about that. But I will tell you that Mewni is now unified between its people and the kingdom is in the hands of its true queen,” (y/n) explained as shortly as she could. “Well, that’s good,” Peter replies. A pregnant pause filled the air, until Peter thankfully broke it. “Is what you said before actually true?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “What?” you question, thinking you misheard him. “You said would never leave Neverland again? Was that true? Or was that just something you said that was in spur of the moment?” Peter continued. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t believe what she was true. Why would she want to stay here and be with me? he thought. Especially after how I treated her the last time I saw her. “Peter,” (y/n) said softly. “I was serious when I said that. Nothing will make me leave Neverland and you guys again.”

Peter felt his heart stop for moment, in disbelief at what she just told him. (Y/n) turned her kind gaze away from looking down at her hands folded in her lap. “Besides, it’s not like I can return home anyway,” she said softly. “Wait, what?” Peter thought he heard wrong. “It’s no big deal. You already know I never saw Mewni as my home. Neverland is my home. When the chance came for me to spend forever in my homeworld or spend forever here, I made my choice,” she explained nonchalantly. Peter could only open his mouth wide in shocked silence. He never thought she would such a thing. Give up her family and everything she known just to be with for him and the Lost Boys. It was almost insane.

“You really did all of that? Even after what I said to you before you left?” Peter gaped. “I’m sorry ... for what I said by the way. I wasn’t thinking straight and -” “Wow, the Peter Pan apologizing. To little old me,” (y/n) teased a goofy smile on her face. “Don’t make fun of me. You know I’m don’t ever apologize ” Peter pouted. (y/n) giggled, forcing a hidden smile to make its way to Peter’s lips. “I missed you, you know. Can you believe that?” Peter admitted, trying to hide his warming cheeks. (y/n) was astonished at his confession.“You really missed me? I thought you would have forgotten about me.” “I would never. There wasn’t a day I didn’t think about you,” Peter continued, gently taking the girl’s hands into his. (Y/n) looked down their combined hands, cheeks red at the feeling of Peter’s warm hands. “I did, too. The thought of Neverland and you kept me going. You were my reason to keep fighting, so one day I would be able to return to you.”

Peter gently placed his fingertips under her chin, directing her downcast eyes to look at him. “(Y/n) ...” he trailed off. He didn't know what he was going to say, his eyes flicking to her luscious soft lips. Peter couldn’t help but subconsciously darted his tongue out to wet his own, longing to meet them with hers. His hand trailed to cup her cheek, enjoying the site of her reddening skin under his rough fingertips. (Y/n)’s luminous (e/c) orbs nervously flew to look back at him, her breathing hitching in her throat. He watched her for a moment, looking for any indication that she was uncomfortable. But there was none, so Peter slowly inched closer, stopping until there was little more than an inch between them. He heart stopped as (y/n) closed the distance between them, the organ soaring at the feeling of her luscious lips on his own. Peter felt her wrap her hands around his neck loosely, his other hand moving to grip tightly to (y/n)’s hip. He could taste the Neverberries from the juice she had before, along with a specific taste he couldn’t quite identify. But he couldn't get enough it, shown by him adding more pressure into the kiss. (Y/n) reacted positively, fingers gripping onto the hairs at the base of his neck, a little mewl coming from her lips as she relaxed into his hold. Peter was just about to kick it up a notch when they were rudely interrupted.

“Hey, lovebirds! Get a tent will ya?” Felix shouted from across the campfire, hands cupped over his mouth and announcing the scene to everyone. (Y/n) was the first to pull away, face red as the Lost Boys howling once they noticed what their leader and Lost Girl were doing. “Shut up all of you!” Peter hollered at the boys. He was just about to teach them all a lesson when he felt (y/n) lean her head onto his chest. He looked down she was hiding her face in his shirt in embarrassment, the sight causing his heart pang in pity. “Peter, let’s go somewhere else. Please,” (y/n) quietly pleaded. “Alright, dear. Let’s head back to my tent. I still want to be with my favorite Lost Girl,” he whispered in her ear, placing a kiss on her forehead. Peter wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist and gently led her away from the center of camp. The Lost Boys started cheer and make lewd comments, which Peter when stopped at the entrance of his private abode, (y/n) continuing on inside without him. “Not another word from any you, or else I’ll be locking you in the cages for a week!” he threatened, glaring at them with darkness in his eyes. The boys shut up, knowing their leader was serious as they avoided eye contact. “Felix, knock up into shape if anything happens.” The second-in-command smirked, giving Peter a quick wink. The green-clad boy ignored it, heading inside and back to the beautiful girl waiting for him. (y/n) was laying on his fur-covered bed, patiently waiting for him. Peter sighed and crawled next to her, pulling her into arms once he was comfortable. He snuggled into neck, placing soft kisses onto her exposed neck. “Stay with, darling. I want you in my arms tonight,” Peter pleaded, already feeling his eyes close in bliss. “With you. Always.”

#ouat imagine #ouat #peter pan x reader #peter pan imagine #ouat peter pan #ouat peter imagine #ouat peter pan x reader #prompt au #prompt imagine #prompt

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whump-me-all-night-long · 4 years

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The Scoop of a Lifetime - 29

Whumptober Day 29 - I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR

Tagging @mnmlover2002 @cupcakes-and-pain @lave-e @appy-polly-loggies @lovely-little-whump @just-another-whumper let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: medical whump, heavy references to past violence, descriptions of injuries, let me know if I missed anything!

Masterlist // Previous

---

There were voices. They could hear them, talking over them, around them, through them. They knew there were people there, but they were floating, away from reality. Their eyelids felt too heavy to lift, so they didn’t. They thought one of the voices sounded angry, but they didn’t know.

Then they were being lifted up and moved. They tried to curl close to the warm chest but it hurt too much, so they stayed where they were, limply hanging from their arms.

They felt themself being laid down on something soft. They heard what sounded like an injured animal’s whimpering, and it took their disjointed thoughts to realize that it was them making the noise. Before that thought could even sink in, they were floating away again, the pain nothing but a distant memory.

Devin awoke to pain. They had been slowly swimming out of the dark foggy haze of their mind, about to surface, when it had started. The pain was in my stomach through my legs around my throat everywhere. A near silent groan slipped their lips as they struggled to open their eyes.

Immediately, they heard rustling of clothing next to them, and a warm hand was taking their smaller one in theirs. They clenched their teeth slightly, stopping as the action sent a burst of pain through their head.

“Hey, shh, shh,” a deep voice soothed. The hand rubbed circles into their skin. “It’s okay, Devin. You don’t have to try to talk or, or do anything right now.”

They relaxed at the words, recognizing Duncan’s voice. Still, with much more difficulty than they’d have liked, their eyes fluttered open, taking in yet another unfamiliar bedroom, this one filled with the quiet hum and beeping of machinery.

They took in the well lit room, brightened by the natural sunlight filtering in through translucent curtains. The bed they were laying in was much larger than they were used to, and they couldn’t help but feel as if they were drowning in all the pillows and blankets. The room was sparsely decorated, leaving plenty of room for the medical equipment that looked like it belonged inside a movie.

Finally, they dragged their gaze back to Duncan’s somewhat hunched form. He sat in a chair next to them, leaning forward to hold their hand in his much larger ones. Their tongue darted out to wet their lips, even that small movement hurting their throat.

They tried to ask What happened? but their voice refused to cooperate. All that came out was a breathy whisper.

Duncan ran his thumb over the back of their hand in a soothing, repetitive motion. “Please, don’t try to talk right now.” He hesitated before adding, “The doctor said there was some pretty bad damage done to your throat.”

Panic cutting through the last of the fog, Devin’s eyes widened and they made to grab for their throat. Duncan gently held back their hands. Their mouth opened and closed uselessly, and they closed their eyes with a frustrated grimace.

They heard him stand and walk a few steps. “I’m going to go get the doctor now,” he said before the door was shutting with a soft click.

Devin couldn’t help the tears that welled up in their eyes. They weren’t able to talk, and every single part of their body hurt. Waves of pain rolled throughout them, causing even their shallow breaths to feel excruciating.

A few moments later, several footsteps walked in, and Devin forced their eyes back open. They went immediately to Duncan, who smiled reassuringly, to the familiar face of Dr. Lenus, who seemed distantly troubled. Finally, their gaze settled on the figure leaning in the doorway.

Their breath caught, and they scrambled to leave get away from me stop don’t touch me don’t hurt me again get out of the vulnerable position they were in.

Before they could do more than twitch slightly, Lenus was reaching for them, not unkindly holding them down. They stared up at him pleadingly, but he just sighed and shook his head, directing his annoyance at Wildre.

“I told you,” he said tiredly, “if your presence disrupts my evaluation, you’re going to have to leave.”

He grinned. “Don’t worry. Devin, here, can behave perfectly.” His steely eyes shifted to their wide ones. “Can’t you, love?”

They let out a breath of air and nodded- or tried to, wincing in pain before they could really move.

The doctor just grumbled more under his breath, moving around their body to check the various machines with the air of someone who’d done this many times before. After a moment or two, he turned his attention to their battered body.

“This could be a bit uncomfortable,” he said unapologetically. He pulled the blankets off them, revealing them wearing a thin, nearly transparent t-shirt and some equally thin shorts, and Devin couldn’t help but gasp. Their stomach was every mottled shade of purple, blue, green, and yellow they could imagine, plus more. Their legs were worse, somehow. Thick lines of red crisscrossed them, some as raised welts and others where the cane Wildre had broken the skin. Their legs looked crooked and broken. The gasp caused fire to rip up their throat, their eyes watering and their lungs stalling in response.

Lenus shook his head. “I wouldn’t be making any noise at all, if I were you. There was extensive nerve damage and bruising in your throat, meaning talking might be a bit of a struggle for a bit. But the trouble should go away fairly quickly, hopefully.” Should? Devin wanted to scream at the top of their lungs.

But it was all they could do to bite back their whimpers and groans as Lenus brought his unyielding fingers along their body, poking and prodding until they felt completely bared. Their eyes squeezed shut as he worked. They just prayed for it to be over soon.

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mycandylovefanatics · 4 years

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Muted Desires

Word count: 2k

Genre: Angst?? Maybe idk lmao

Warnings: Very, very mild NSFW at the end. Nothing you have to hide in your bedroom to read

This is based off of episode 4 of MCL University Life. I wasn’t happy with the way the game portrays his attitude towards us, and our candy just sitting there and taking it. I wanted to add a little more... idk detail to it and why he reacts the way he did? I also wanted to see this from his perspective. Anyways this is my first full oneshot that I’ve written in YEARS so please don’t judge, and feedback is always much appreciated <3

FYI:I do NOT normally do these so don’t request them, if you thought i took forever to get headcanons out then...

Also BIG thanks to my friend @mdme-sora for helping me with the title and being grammar police for me lololol love you girl!

Castiel plays the first few notes of the band’s opening song. He can hear the screams and shouts from behind the curtain as he drags his fingers over the strings of his guitar. The volume from the amp causes his ears to ring just a bit, but after performing so many times he’s used to it. He continues the same tune while the other members of the band join in, one by one until the different rhythms form into one. The screams get more impatient as they wait for the band to reveal themselves, but more specifically, him to reveal himself. The other instruments become silent as he plays the last few notes and the curtain finally rises. A moment of silence, and the crowd is silent with them, until he finally turns around to face the jam packed bar room. He steps up to the mic and introduces the band, not that the introduction was much needed in the first place. The crowd erupts into another fit of screams and cheers as the band starts singing the lyrics to one of their most well known songs. The crowd begins to sing along and dance to the beat, putting a faint smile on his face, unnoticeable by most people. He starts to walk around the small space on the stage and soon enough, Castiel finds himself slipping into that familiar trance that he always fades into whenever he performs. He drowns himself in his music, scanning the crowd but not actually taking them in, not actually seeing them. Nothing can break his focus-

Until his eyes land on you. He can feel his eyes widen and his heart begins to thump so hard he swears it might rip out from his chest. His breathing hitches and he almost fumbles the next line of lyrics, before he catches himself. Your eyes meet, but only for a split second as he forces himself to look away and regain his composure, focusing on a group of squealing girls directly in front of him. Why were you here? When did you get back? Had you been back for long? So many questions run through his mind at one time. The room is suddenly way too warm, his mouth is way too dry and he would want nothing more than a cold glass of water. Scratch that, an ice cold glass of beer. Luckily for him, the current song does not require him to have his hands occupied with his guitar. He takes off his jacket and tosses it to the side of the stage, hoping to alleviate some of the heat but nothing comes of it. It takes every bone in his body to not look at you again. Part of him questions whether or not that was actually you, but he knows. He would recognize those eyes in a sea of people any day.

Suddenly he finds himself wanting this concert to be over sooner than later, and it seems like forever until the final note to the last song of the night plays out. He says his normal ‘goodbye and thank you’ speech while his eyes scan the room for you. He catches a glimpse of your head walking towards the bathroom. The line is long, he notices with relief, which should give him plenty of time to have a quick chat with his band mates and mentally prepare himself to talk to you. He tries to remember the last time you two had spoken. What was it, four years ago now? You guys had kept in touch for a few weeks after you broke up, but eventually you both knew that you couldn’t keep going like that. The daily texts turned into weekly, the weekly turned into monthly and then soon enough, the monthly turned into…never. He feels his heart ache at the memory, but pushes the feeling away almost immediately. It’s been four years, why is he still wallowing in his feelings? Surely you didn’t feel anything for him anymore, so whatever feelings he did have were pointless. At least that’s what he tried to tell himself.

He’s talking to his band mate, Devin, when he notices you’ve come out of the bathroom. You’re making your way to the bar, and Castiel cuts his conversation short. “Hey, I’m gonna stay back and talk to an...old friend for a bit, I’ll catch you guys later.” Before Devin can respond, he’s walking off towards you. You’re pushing your way through, almost to the bar when he grabs your wrist, keeping his grip firm to keep you from going any further. You turn around with wide eyes, clearly not expecting him to be the one grabbing you. His heart starts beating again, but he forces his nerves back down and looks you in the eye. “Hi,” he says. That’s it. He wants to slap himself for it, but then again what else CAN he say?

You’re at a loss for words but force out a hesitant “Hel... Hello.”

“I didn’t know you were back in town, you didn’t tell me,” he says.

Your eyebrows raise up at this. “I haven’t had the chance to… And besides-”

He cuts you off before you can finish your sentence and before he can even stop himself. “No need to make excuses.” He says it a little more coldly than he means to. Or maybe he does mean to, he’s not sure. You start saying something but he cuts you off, again surprised by the sudden brashness in his tone. “So you show up to one of my concerts without saying anything and you didn’t think I’d notice?”

“What? No, it’s not that at all, I just-”

“I noticed you in the crowd during the concert,” he says. You look shocked that he noticed you in the first place, he smirks a bit. “I know there were a million people here tonight but you don’t blend in very well when I’ve known your face for years.”

You’re about to say something when a group of fan girls suddenly surrounds you. He can see the mixture of annoyance and amazement on your face, and he lightly grabs your wrist again. The feeling of your smooth skin makes his breathing hitch for a second.

“Let’s go somewhere a little less crowded.” You let him pull you towards the back of the bar, into a small broom closet. He left the door slightly cracked to allow air to flow in. People were passing by, employees, but they didn’t notice the two of you standing in there.

You looked at him for a moment, as if you were taking in the way his face had changed over the years. And it had, his jaw was more defined, his eyes seemed more intense. You felt a small wave of nostalgia though, as you realized his hair had stayed the exact same length and color from when you’d last seen him. When you first met him. You smiled up at him.

“I’m glad to be seeing you again, it’s been a while.”

He scoffs, “Glad to see me but didn’t bother telling me you were back in the first place.”

Your smile falters at this, and for a split second he feels bad. He doesn’t want to make you feel guilty yet for some reason he can’t stop his bottled up anger from spilling out. He isn’t expecting you to respond with the same snappiness, though.

“And what the hell was I supposed to say? We haven’t spoken in four years but yeah, it would have been totally not weird for me to suddenly get back in touch overnight only to say ‘Hey, I’m back in town’?” You roll your eyes and continue, “Especially after the way we left things, you KNOW it’s not that simple.”

His chest tightens at your response. He knows all too well that you’re right, but he doesn’t want to admit that. He just looks at you with that same glare he would give you whenever he was pissed off.

“You’re right actually, you’re the one who left. I guess you wouldn’t be coming back for me.” He desperately wants to tell himself to just shut the hell up, to just stop talking but he doesn’t.

“Is that what you wanted? Me to come back for you?” You ask. He knows your question is well placed, but he tries to deflect it.

“Pfft, seriously? You leave for years and then waltz back in here expecting me to be available just like that? Waiting nice and sweet for you?” He knows he’s stretching your words but he does this because he knows deep down, you’re right again. Maybe he did want you to come back for him, maybe he did want you to say how much you’d missed him.

“That's not what I meant and you know it,” you say. And he does know it.

“Hm, okay little girl…” His heart thumps as the words come out of his mouth before he can stop them. He plays it off like he means nothing by it, but he can’t deny the warm, yet painful feeling he gets when he remembers the way he used to call you that when you were together. He takes a deep breath and gives you his signature smirk. “How about we wipe the slate clean and start over?”

You nod your head and quickly change the topic. “Well, looks like your music is really taking off. I never imagined you’d be so famous that we’d have to hide just to have a normal conversation.”

He looks off to the side. “Yeah, that’s one of the many costs for fame. But, this is our hometown, where we got started so we’re more well known here. It’s not like this everywhere.”

You notice he seems to be uncomfortable with the topic so you change it again. “Well either way, you sounded great up there. You’ve definitely come a long way since we were in highschool.” He laughs, a real laugh this time, “I would hope so! I was only just getting started back then, and now I’m actually seeing how things are done. It helps to have some pretty good band mates as well.” You smile, he seems to be really happy with how far he’s come. You knew it had been his dream, and seeing it come true for him made you proud.

While you were glad to be conversing with your old friend, or maybe lover is a better word, you remembered that Chani was waiting for you, and you glanced towards the door. He notices how you look a bit anxious.

“If you’re bored just say so.”

Your eyes snap back at him, eyebrows raised again. “N-no it’s not that, it’s just, I came here with someone.”

His heart clenches again, and he can’t stop himself from asking. “Are you on a date?” The question is none of his business, he knows that. But he wants to know anyway.

“Oh, no definitely not,” you are sure why you put emphasis on ‘definitely’. “I’m here with a friend from school, her name is Chani.” He feels relief in his chest, and peeks through the door. He wants to keep you here, wants to keep talking to you. But he feels like he’s about to explode, and it’s suddenly way too hot again. He ends the conversation.

“Well, looks like the crowd has died down. I’m going to go get a drink, I could really go for a beer right now. I’ll see you around.”

And with that he leaves you in the closet by yourself. He walks to the bar and sits on one of the stools, immediately getting attention from a few girls still lounging in the bar. He orders his choice of beer, chugging it as soon as it’s in his hands. Normally he’d be packing up his equipment and getting into bed as soon as possible, but tonight he knew he was gonna need more than a good night’s sleep to process what had just happened.

He entertains the blonde woman by his side, who is trailing her finger up and down his arm, tracing his tattoos. She was saying something about his performance, no doubt saying something about how good he looked up on stage. He had heard it all before, but that’s not why he was zoned out. His gaze shifts past the blonde’s head, and sees you walking towards the exit, Chani, he assumed, by your side. It was as if you could feel his eyes boring into your back because just as you were about to walk through the door, you stopped and turned. Your eyes met once more that night. He couldn’t tell what you were thinking, though he desperately wished he could. Your eyes stayed locked like that for what felt like eternity, before you continued your way out the door once your friend got your attention again. As per request, the bartender gave him another beer bottle. And another, and another. The woman on his arm luckily, doesn’t notice how he’s not listening to a word she’s saying. His clouded mind is focused on you and you alone. How much you’d changed, how you looked so different but still the same. The way your voice still went up a pitch when you got irritated. How your eyes would crinkle whenever you’d laugh. The way that no matter how many people were in a room, his eyes would always find you. Just like they did tonight.

He downs his last beer as if it were water, and stands up from the bar. He drapes an arm around the woman, who he can’t for the life of him remember her name, or if she had even told him what it was in the first place. He leans against her and whispers in her ear, “Why don’t we go back to my place?” And without hesitation, she accepts. They stroll out of the bar together and walk back to his place, as it’s only a few blocks away. He hurriedly opens the door and pushes her through it, kissing her in a slightly drunken haze, not waiting a second to start discarding articles of clothing. He can feel her touching him, he can feel his hot skin melting with hers, and he feels good. But as he’s running his hands up and down the curves of her body, sucking and licking on her neck while she pants in his ear, he can’t help but to wish it were you instead.

#mcl #mclul #mcl oneshot #mcl headcanons #castiel #mcl castiel #mclul castiel #castiel headcanons #mycandylove #mcl headcanon #Castiel headcanon #mclul headcanon #mclul headcanons

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anchorsnook · 4 years

Text

Commander Fox needs some love

Fox walked down the hall, trying to find the new office. He shifted the large packet of hard drives to his other hand. Why did they suddenly decide all sensitive reports needed to be turned in manually? His eyes lighted on a sign on one of the office doors. There it is, finally. He shouldered the door open and walked into the office. A human woman sat behind a desk in front of him. Her hair was put up into a bun, and frizzes were starting to streak out from it. She frowned at the monitor in front of her. Fox dropped the small packet of hard drives on her desk.

She jumped back with an “EEp!”

She looked up at him. Her mouth slowly opened, then shut. Fox didn’t have time for this, “Here are the reports.”

He spun around and walked out of the room.

Silv drank deeply from her coffee cup. She felt life flow into her as the liquid ran down her throat. It had been a solid four weeks since she had accepted the job as a secretary for the Republic. It took her three days to sign all the paperwork for confidentiality and “Don’t tell anyone” files. By now, she figured out why the last secretary had left the position. There was too much to do. The Republic demanded not only she sort the files, hard drives, and emails for all the staff, clones, and commanders, they also wanted her to file all sensitive reports herself, with no outside help. Trying to even understand the storage room, let alone file all those reports in a timely manner, was difficult.

Her supervisor barely gave her a tour before throwing her into the den of wolves. Everywhere she turned, each person was chewing her out for not being fast enough. She smiled wryly, probably the most interesting and well, nice conversation she had was with one of the clones. That was one part of her job she was nervous about. She had heard some horrible things about the clones. How they were simply war machines, built with a thirst for blood. That they would kill you at any opportunity. She knew these rumors weren’t reliable, but after years of circulating rumors, it was hard to keep scepticism out. It didn’t help that with their armor and helmet, they were down right intimidating. It started her when one of them had quietly slipped into the room, and slammed reports down on her desk. That was the first time she thought she had actually heard a clone speak. He had come in three more times. He was very prompt, coming at the same time, the same day of the week. He usually only dropped the drives and walked off. Once, he had given her a grunt of acknowledgement.

The very last time he had come in had shifted her vision of him. She was just into a new cup of coffee when he came in. He had dropped the hard drives like always, but then lingered. She saw his armor was more scruffed up and dirty, and compared to the sharpness in his step the last couple of times, he seemed almost to drag his feet on the way in. She saw his chest plate expand as he breathed in deeply as he had stood there. His head tilted slightly, and she almost would swear that she could see a longing desire in his visor. His shoulders jerked back up and he had marched quickly out of the room.

Humanity. That is what she saw in that moment. Not a war machine, not even a soldier, just a person who was worn down to the bare threads. She shook her head and smiled, this time she would be ready. She poured another cup of coffee into a to-go-mug.

~~~

Fox walked down the now familiar hall. It had been a strange week. Sometimes, his duty and job was too strenuous for him. This week he was being tugged on by both the Jedi Council, the Senate, and the Chancellor. A bombing at the Jedi temple had struck up “peaceful protests” that always turned sour. On top of crowd control, which last time Fox checked, was NOT in his job description, he had the task of holding one of the Jedi padawans who had murdered a key witness. Of course, her master had threatened him, and of course, the padawan escaped, killing a few of his men. All in all, a REALLY long week.

He walked through the door. The secretary was talking to one of the non-clone military personnel. The military man snapped, “I expected those files an hour ago. Where are they?!”

She sighed, “And you will get them when I can properly file them. However, I received them later than the others, so you will get them later than the others.”

The military man’s face flushed, “How dare- those are due next week. And I NEED at least a WEEK TO EDIT IT. Do you not understand that?? Or are you just slow?”

The secretary barely flinched. Fox set the hard drives down, he had had enough of that sort of thing this last week. He turned quickly around to escape back to the barracks. The secretary whispered calmly, “Sir, I need time to complete it. But when it's done-”

She turned to see Fox walking away. A desperate plea escaped her, “Soldier Wait!”

Fox stopped abruptly, and turned slowly. Her forehead creased, “I’m sure you had a lot, but I have something for-”

“DON’T IGNORE ME!” the military man spat.

She shifted towards him. She shifted, “I was not ignoring you. Now is there anything else? I need to attend to this matter and then get straight to your report.”

The military man’s nose flared, “Fine Civi. Just be quick about it.”

He stormed off. Fox saw the secretary’s lower lip quiver. She closed her eyes. Breathed deeply, and turned to him. She smiled softly, “Thank you for waiting. I’m sure you have a lot of pressing matters.”

Fox stood silently. She gulped, “Right. I’ll get right to it.”

She turned and grabbed two cups of coffee. She set one cup on the table, and offered the other one to him. He didn’t move. The steam wafed up into his helmet. Last week he had come in when she had made a hot cup, and it had smelled devine. Fox had only had coffee once before, and had been in heaven for a split second. Unfortunately, he wasn’t paid, and coffee didn’t really come in the job perks. He would sometimes grab a cup from the office lounges, but the other staff around Coruscant weren’t really open for a clone to use their space. She nodded to the cup, and moved it closer to him, “Please. I had an extra.”

He cautiously took it. She smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of her neck, “I really need a pick me up on days like today.”

Blood rushed to her cheeks as he stood there silently. She stammered, “I mean. It's fine if you don’t- I don’t know if you even like- maybe you don’t need to drink anything-it’s not like I was trying t- ” he babbling quickly died off. She looked to the ground and slowly sunk into her chair, “I’m sorry to use your time. That was all.”

Fox stared. He had never received such a gift. It was obviously out of her way to make another cup, and to stop him while someone was railing on her just to give it to him. Her figure was slumped at her desk. He smiled behind his bucket. He turned around. At the door he paused, looking over his shoulder he said, “Thank you.”

~~~

The next week Fox almost started jogging down to the office. The case of the padawan had gotten even more confusing, and had eventually resolved itself. But he was excited for the coffee. One sip of it last week, and he was in heaven. It was better than he remembered, better than the coffee he grabbed from the lounges. He almost considered that she put some sort of addictive drug into it. He wanted another. Swinging into the office, he quickly walked up to the desk and set the hard drives down. The secretary smiled, “Thank you.”

He looked around. No coffee. He slowly scanned the room, nothing. His heart fell. Why was there no coffee? The secretary took a second glance up, “Yes?”

He cleared his throat, “Um. Nothing.”

He started to walk slowly out of the room. He paused at the door. Would it be rude to ask? He shook his head, more like, could he make it a week without some? Slowly turning around, he spoke, “Um, actually.”

The secretary looked up, slightly startled that he wasn’t gone already. He sighed, “Do you have any more of that coffee?”

A smile slowly crept across her face, “Sooo, you liked it?”

Fox cleared his throat, “It's fine. I-”

The secretary jumped up, “NO!”

She cleared her throat, “No. It's fine. It's right in the back. Can you wait 5 minutes?”

Fox nodded once. She quickly slipped out of the room. He stood near the door. He looked around the office. It was pretty tidy, and pretty sparse. There were a couple of chairs on one side, and a window in the back. A row of bookshelves lined one of the walls. Her desk was not as tidy. Piles of hard drives, files, and screens were sloppily placed everywhere. There were even stacks on the floor near her desk. She came back in and sat down, “It is on its way.”

He nodded. She turned back to her computer screen. Her mouth started moving as she read. One of his fingers tapped lightly against his thigh. She glanced back up at him. She smiled, “Would you like to sit down?”

He looked at the chairs. Perhaps this was a bad idea. Could he really wait 5 minutes? Just then, the smell of coffee wafed into his nose. He sat down. It was worth it. She smiled, “My name is Silv by the way.”

He nodded, “Commander Fox.”

He took off his helmet and set it gently on his knee. She stared. Her eyes examined the contours of his face. He looked up and met her gaze firmly. She flushed, “I’m so sorry. I just….”

She looked down, “I’ve just. Never seen a clone before.”

Fox raised an eyebrow at her. Her face became even more red, she opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. A ding from the other room alerted them. She quickly ran to the next room. A few minutes later, she came back out with a steaming mug. She smiled, “Sorry it took a while.”

He took the coffee, inhaled deeply, and took a sip. The warm roasted flavor tickled his tongue. He felt the warmth run down his throat all the way to his belly. He chuckled. Looking up, he saw Silv trying to hide a smile. He cleared his throat, “Thank you. I will be on my way.”

He put his bucket on and walked out of the room. From then on, Silv always had coffee ready to go for him. At first, he simply took it, thanked her, and left. After a while, he started picking up conversations with her. Five minutes here, five minutes there. Longer weeks made him look forward to the office run even more. Once, he had come in, talked with her, left, and when he got back to his office, saw the hard drives, still on the desk where he had left them. The peaceful protesting, however, got worse.

A citizen slammed into his shield, screaming profanities and death wishes towards him and his men. The citizen’s voice rose with the crowd. Fox gritted his teeth. This one was bad. The crowd was writhing over a new decision the Senate had made. Fox had strict orders not to hurt anyone. He grunted as another citizen slammed into his shield, trying to break through his trooper’s defense line. How was he supposed to keep the crowd back without using force? He knew how of course. If it got bad enough, him and his men would become living shields. One of his men, Sharp, got punched in the face. Sharp reeled back, but held his ground. A few more got through. Suddenly the line broke. The crowd surged forward, a writhing, seething mass of hate. The police behind them screamed on their whistles, trying to arrest anyone who broke through. But there were too many. Three citizens pushed him back into a street sign. He stumbled back and his head cracked against the metal pole. Spots flickered in his vision. He looked around, trying to find his men through the three who were now screaming in his face. Across the street, his eyes lighted on a hurried figure. Silv. She was trying to fight through the crowd. What was she doing here? She tugged on her skirt to get past another raging person shoving a sign in her face. She glanced over, and her blue eyes met his. She stopped dead in her tracks. Her face went pale as she saw him. His armor splattered in mud and the different rotting things that the protestors brought with them. The protester in his face spat, “WE DON’T WANT YOUR WAR HERE CLONE!”

Fox growled, trying to contain the anger zipping through his body. Didn't they know? It wasn’t the clones fault they were here. They were simply bred to fight a war that wasn’t theirs to fight. But no, these people didn’t know. Fox realized they simply needed a person to blame. One protester elbowed his helmet at his jawline. Fox grunted, but continued commanding orders to his men, trying to help order the crowd. One of the three walked away, and grabbed one of the signs thrown to the ground by another protester. The man stalked angrily towards him. He swung the sign, smashing it against Fox’s ribs. Fox gasped and clutched his side. The protester screamed, “HOW'D YOU LIKE THAT WARMONGER??”

He lifted the sign back and slammed it across Fox’s head. Fox’s head wrenched to the side and he fell to his knees. His head started to spin. Black spots flashed across his vision. A few kicks came raining down as he clutched one hand to his head. “Use no force. Use no force!” he chanted. Both to himself and to his men.

Fox looked up. His men were being beaten. Angry citizens ran rampant around, pushing, shoving, and attacking his men. Bile rose in his throat. How could they put his men through this? The protesters were almost to the doors of the Senate entrance. Fox shook his head. He had a duty to fulfill. He had to secure that door. Those protesters couldn’t get inside the building. He started to crawl up the stairs. Another protester slammed a sign on his back. His knees and arms gave out. His body cracked against the stairs. Sharp heat flashed from his cheek, rib, and thigh as the force of hitting the stairs cracked his armor. Grunting with pain, he continued his climb. A kick to the shoulder ripped his shoulder pad off. Fox roared as the strap caught his shoulder and jerked it out of its socket. Clenching his jaw, he stumbled to the door. Turning around, he gripped the sides of the doors. He lifted his head to face the screaming mob.

Their faces were blotched red in rage, the mob climbed the steps towards him. His men were now focusing their attention on evacuating the wounded. The police were in the fray too, but had no luck controlling the crowd. He clenched his jaw. It was up to him. The crowd swayed. His legs trembled with the effort to keep himself upright. His shoulder throbbed. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead and face underneath his helmet. A protester walked up to him, his fists balled up. Fox took in a shuttered breath. Use. No. Force.

The protester brought his fist back. Brown hair and a slender figure moved over his vision. She lifted her hand above her head to ward off a blow. Fox’s heart jumped. Silv! The fist of the protestor slammed into her forearm. She yelped in pain and was pushed back against Fox. He whispered, “Silv! What are you-”

She glanced at him. There was a fierce determination in her eyes. A fire Fox had never truly seen before. She turned to the protester. Fox wanted to scream, to get her out of harm's way. She had no training, no armor. This wasn’t her fight. Fox was stationed at Corusaunt to protect people like her. The protester landed another blow. Silv screamed in pain and fell to her knees. Fox roared. She glared silently up at the protester. He slammed another blow down on her without a thought. Silv dropped to the ground. Fox whimpered. He stepped closer to the protester and shoved him back. The protester took a couple backsteps. Another protester came from the side and slammed his fist up under Fox’s jaw. Fox’s head whipped back, his helmet shoved off. It hit the pavement, bounced, and slowly rolled down the stairs.

Fox saw the crowd pushing further forward. He knew he couldn’t hold this for very long. He put one foot over Silv’s limp body. He snarled challengingly at the crowd. Balling up his fists, he waited for the protester to step forward. The crowd swayed in hesitation. The thunder of helicopters flew overhead with fresh reinforcements. The crowd stopped as dozens of police and troopers came swarming in from the alleys and swinging from the helicopters. A wave of realization swept over the crowd, and they jumped into a frenzy, running in panic away from the scene. More helicopters zoomed in with the media sites, not wanting to miss the action.

Footsteps thudded all around him. A straggler raced clumsily by. He clipped the back of Silv’s head and tripped down the stairs. Fox’s face fell in fear. Was she ok? He flipped around to her head and felt her pulse. It was barely there. More people came streaming over the steps. The first few started tripping over her legs. One stepped on her arm without noticing. Fox desperately curled her further into a ball. He placed one hand on the other side of her limp body, and crouched gently over her. He lowered his head down close to hers as the mob raced through. He felt the bumps, kicks, and feet of those trampling past. Fox screamed, desperate to keep her safe. Fear streaked across his face. The crowd could do their worst to him. They could mock him, hate him, beat him daily. He looked down at Silv’s relaxed face. But how could they do something to her? A small light of hope, who knew nothing of war. She was the only innocent in all this.

He crouched there for a long time. His body tensed for any other attacks. Soon, the blows slowed. After ages, he felt the silent whisper of wind, and then nothing. He looked up, blood and tears slipping down his face. He was alone with Silv on the steps to the Senate house. Wind rustled the loose protest flyers. Police and troopers scattered across the yard, finally getting the crowd under control. Ambulances were taking the wounded, and the Media circled the yard. The worst was over.

Fox limped through the hospital. Where was she? A nurse was running behind him, “Sir. Sir! You have to sign in to see a patient.”

Fox ignored her. He rushed through the hall as fast as his bruised body could take him. The bacta was taking effect, but not fast enough. Fox glanced up at one of the TV screens in the hall. Silv’s face stared back. He froze. The nurse behind him slammed into him. He barely noticed. Silv’s face was bruised badly. One side of her jaw was swollen, and she had a black eye. Her hair was frazzled, and she was sitting in a hospital bed. The sign behind her showed the room L3D. The headline said, “REPUBLIC’S SECRETARY BEATEN IN “PEACEFUL” PROTEST.”

Silv was speaking right into the camera, “How DARE you call yourself citizens. When you mercilessly beat on those who are just like you.”

The screen showed a shot of the protestors racing around the Senate stairs. In the middle was a limp figure of Silv. An armored soldier was hunched over her. His face was smeared with blood. Desperation in his face. Fox realized, that was him.

Silv’s voice continued as the picture stood, mocking it’s viewers, “You say you hate war, but you attack those trying to protect you.”

Another picture of the wreckage and havoc showed on the screen, and finally, Silv’s bruised and battered face came into view, “How dare you call yourselves ‘peacekeepers’ when you hurt those who have nothing against you. Who cannot defend the hate you spit on them.”

Fox ran. He swept through the building. First, floor L, then wing 3. Up ahead he saw a room swarmed with reporters. Two nurses were trying to get in and push the reporters out, but to no avail. Fox straightened. He put his bucket on and walked sternly towards the reports. He snapped, “Official Senate business. Please leave the area.”

The reporters jumped at the sound of his voice. As they looked over and saw him, they parted like water. Fox walked into the room and focused on the rolling camera, “Shut that down. OUT. All of you.”

The reporters quickly scrambled out and down the hall. He motioned for the nurses to come in. Silv flustered, “What was that for? The public needs to know how horrible they-”

Fox smiled. He had to replace his stained armor, and hadn’t had the chance to paint his new one. He took off his helmet. She stopped. Tears swelled into her eyes, “OH Fox!”

He smiled and sat beside her. She sniffed, “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Fox nodded, “I’m fine.”

He looked at the nurses, “Is she alright.”

Silv answered, “I’m alright.”

The nurse sighed, “She is a bit battered. A minor concussion. But nothing else.”

Fox released his breath. He turned back to Silv and started, “What were you-?”

Silv spoke sternly, “It was the right thing to do. I’ve seen the reports. Those riots have been getting worse. Something drastic needed to happen. They can’t just beat on you! You should have the right to defend yourself. I don’t see how the council can- are you crying?”

A single tear slid down his cheek. Silv’s determination flipped into concern. He quickly wiped it away. Just having that support. Any support from outside his brothers, was a strange new thing. They were expendable. Fox knew that. He had heard this brother's stories about the Jedi. Those that always had their back, knew their names. Fox had never really seen that for himself. But now he saw, in this one woman, hope for the galaxy. That someday the world would be better, and he smiled.

If you liked it, do me a solid and reblog!

#show commander fox some love!!!#it's commander fox appreciation time #loving fox hours #commander fox #clone fox #clone wars #the clone wars #tcw #republic secretary #silv #clone wars oc #coruscant #coruscant guard #coruscant guard appreciation

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at-the-exd-of-everythixg · 4 years

Text

Baby Boom

@blind-mutant here we go!! For anyone else who reads this, this is uhhh an au??? Based off a fic I wrote for Devin's birthday in which Rhys lives a happy life with Wulf, Sal, Pascal, Lace, Mahogany and Dae! They also have a ton of babies (the carrier for all of these is Mahogany, they're still trying to get Sal to have a baby for them to coddle during all this) and here are some headcanons (tho core details like appearance, names, powers aren't decided since I want it to be a duo thing to share).

Malf (Wulf x Mahogany)

Oldest baby since Wulf is incredibly fertile

Big baby. Mahogany had quite a few worried boys around them when they got close to their due date and Baby themself got Mahogany exhausted.

So for the first few weeks it was the boys mostly taking care of Baby while Mahogany rested.

Spent the past six months being carried by Wulf before the last month was spent with only Dae being allowed to go near because he doesn't smell of much. Mahogany could only stand him and it made Dae cry every time.

Ate a LOT of meat since they were already the size of a one year old despite Mahogany being carrying for six months.

Screamed any time they were left alone and thus someone had to be in the room with them or holding them.

Even without powers,,,,ridiculously strong,,,dragged a chair with Sal still sitting on it and they were only a year and a half.

Angwy lil bab when the twins were born. Father crew had to keep an eye on them because Pascal launched out of bed one morning (throwing Rhys across the bed by accident) and caught Baby dragging the twins out to the woods,,,and then spent another hour holding a wailing Baby over it.

Wild Child. The kid who screams "FA!" and comes running in with a snake they found before announcing that they were bitten excitedly.

Wants stories all the time and everything they get told depends with "That's not what Auntie Edith/Uncle Mordecai says!"

Had very weird body proportions where they're skinny look but has big ass hands and feet,,,,like Michael from tma.

Stomps everywhere.

Ridiculously tall when grown. Gets yelled at by Rhys or Sal and they have to squat to be at eye level.

Kinda neurotic about keeping packs together and self obessed idea of being the next Alpha. Starts a few fights with Mahogany that leaves them both scarred, much to the worry of everyone else.

Rhogal (Rhys x Mahogany/x Pascal?)

Mahogany got pregnant when Wulf Baby was two.

No one knew who's this one was and automatically assumed Rhys because pale and one was blind.

But then Lace openly wondered if they worked like a cat and could have multiple fathers and then doubts settled in.

Did not help that Baby Two would start giggling ominously before something bad happned.

Anyway, easier birth! Less stress and less muching if you don't include Wulf Baby's attempts at getting rid of them.

Smol, got carried around by Rhys a lot and could fit into Wulf's palms which made some knees weak.

Generally didn't seem much trouble at first but then it Began.

Pls Baby One, let go of the spoon, I swear you'll get more meat mush in a second- oh my god where did Baby Two go????

Lots of rushing around looking for Satan before Baby Two would just calmly pad in with a dead dove or napping in Alpha's hair.

Twins need to hold AT LEAST a body part of someone. Sal's hands?? Wulf's hair??? Rhys's feet when asleep??? It'll do. Especially if it makes Papa Rhys scream funny.

Sal shows them the shining twins and still getting punished for it to this day I hear.

Asks a lot of questions that seem emotional and gut punching. Baby One asks Wulf if they're monsters when being tucked into bed, Baby Two cheerfully asks Dae what's gonna happen if he dies at the family breakfast.

Absolutely ride or die and everyone and no one knows if they can change sizes because no one sees them as adults together strangely enough.

Rarely fights but when they do??? Oh its BIG. To the point where Mahogany has to pull a big scary move that makes everyone step back.

One twin is so gross like, Lilo licking Nani level, but no one knows until it's too late.

Scared of fires but urge to arson is terribly strong in these babies.

Wulf Baby hated them and then it got worse because you had two tiny terrors annoying and bullying Wulf Baby lowkey for months.

Lagni (Lace x Mahogany)

Wulf Baby is 4, the twins are 2 and Lace Baby is a wee bab!

Dad Squad is getting to be experienced, knows to set up a den in the bedroom, only Dae and babies can go near them in the last month and Wulf Baby is VERY proud of being able to play at Alpha and look after their carrier.

Lace Baby was....surprisingly normal at first and ok no one expected that but no one was going to argue since they all knew how powerful Lace was when off his meds.

Things were fine! But then a few weeks and,,,,Mahogany was sweating and Sal wouldn't stop bleeding and being sick and Rhys got surrounded by his shadows and isolated. Lace cried later that night.

Still! They got around it and Carter helped out by telling the government that he had a second child and they got some medication for Lace Baby to have in order to calm them down, at least until they could be taught some control.

Quiet but....weirdly attentive?? A month old and yet nodded when asked questions. Prodigy baby, Wulf says proudly.

Likes sitting near their fathers and getting hobbies. Lace was strict in telling Rhys he wasn't allowed to scare people and luckily Lace Baby just picked up music from him.

Likes brawling with Wulf Baby and is seemingly durable so more than once Pascal has yelled because Wulf Baby tossed a giggling Lace Baby across the room with one hand.

Addicted to hanging out with cousin Logan to the point where they have been a bit rude and blown off their own siblings. Got a big fight about it that ended up with Baby One sulking with their head in Rhys's lap and sniffling.

Wants to move out but not in a bad way just....wants to study and learn about what they are, what their PACK is. Begs Uncle Abara to teach them demon stuff.

Accent changes with who they speak to. Has a stutter with Dae before switching to rough Irish when begging to go hunting.

Likes to stray from family but the slightest thing that upsets them?? Comes home sobbing to their parents, half of which only teach their shoulders now.

Cried easily? Medication made them have swings and some time Rhys said something and they cried and he still feels bad about it years later. Wulf is confused because all Rhys said was that they can't take a sword to school.

Likes making charts and playing games that Dae.

Burns themself out a lot and that causes worry for the family when they're eight and suddenly passing out after chasing after Mahogany.

Secretly keeps and cuddles a sweater from one of the parents and sleeps with it. Mortified if anyone found out about their blankie.

Mahl (Sal x Mahogany)

Wulf Baby is 5, the twins are 3 and Lace Baby is 1!

No one actually knew this time Mahogany was pregnant because the bump was so small and they weren't eating as much. Really, Mahogany started craving sweeter stuff and ate sap and honey for 6 months instead of meat.

Therefore, this is the one baby Mahogany finally got to have in the middle of nowhere and came back with late afternoon. Sal passed out immediately.

S m o l. Literally kitten sized. But had a perfect affinity for sound and therefore had the horrifying gift for copying voices. More than once they were woken up to Sal Baby screaming like an adult man and one time they woke up to Pascal's own voice screaming back at him.

Suckles a lot and this was cute until they grew teeth Mahogany has sharp teeth, Sal has blocky teeth. Baby has jagged teeth. Also the only baby who didn't eat meat but rather drank honey for months on end before finally eating meat.

Everyone thought Sal hated them because he never spoke to them until he finally sighed after a crying session and ruffled their hair and called Baby "Snuffle-Truffles". Wulf cried.

Didn't move for ages until Rhys didn't hold them one day after everyone ELSE did and Sal Baby finally got up and passed after him for their daily shadow dad cuddles.

Smol but f a s t. Scaled a wall in less than a minute and the wall was high enough that it takes about three minutes to hurry if you aren't a giant noodle who can litreally climb up.

Baby can touch Dae safely and that's because he woke up scremaing when Baby Sal was found suckling on his fingers and was....perfectly fine. There was a lot of crying.

Wants to Dance(Tm) but,,,,clumsy dancer. Has the legs of a chunky chicken wing to baby deer.

Baby of the family and they know it. Has some health issues later and VERY wild physical changes later on in life.

Mahogany is still bothering Sal about carrying a baby or two because they wanna coddle but haha what are the chances of that happening,,,,,:3 :3 >:3

Lace Baby is the teen that dumps their parents and Sal Baby is the teen that is mortified by the amount of baby pictures.

#headcanon #blind-mutant #the living stardust (sal)#the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany)#he speaks of holy fates (pascal)#riding the wild winds (wulf)#diamond of the rough (dae)#he will set your fears free (lace)#uhhh poly verse?#Big fam verse?#idk yet but tell me what you think and feel free to thow ideas at me!!!#i feel like if Sal did have babies too if would be when Sal Baby is ten or older #when he definitely feels more comfortable and secure about his family and the sheer amount of mother henning that'll come #sksksk cue pack babies rushing home for Sibling Rights

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eeyore101247 · 5 years

Text

Bottles of Bourbon

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You may have had a little bit too much to drink, and now you’re stuck in your head.

Warnings: Angst, drinking, anxiety, depression, and insecurities and tooth rotting fluff

1,392 words

Masterlist

You sat cross legged on your bed, mascara streaking down your face. You stared at yourself in the full length mirror on the other side of the room, a bottle of bourbon in your hand. You’d arrived home an hour ago from partying with some friends to an empty apartment. Tsuki and Tessa were at Tom’s parents house for the night, since the two of you had decided to go out with friends. The two of you had gotten split up at some point, the girls going to a party while the boys went to another pub.

You took a swig from the bottle, eyes taking in your rough appearance. You thought back to all the gorgeous women that had been at the bar before you split, including your friend and Tom’s co-star Zendaya. They were all so much prettier than you, not to mention skinnier and more fit. You were just a mess. You struggled with staying fit, your depression often keeping you holed up in the apartment when you weren’t working. You had a problem with stress eating, barely managing to stay as skinny as you were.

You sniffled as a fresh set of tears ran down your cheeks, taking in everything you saw. Your dress was an absolute mess as it lay crumpled on the floor, your lacy bra and panties slowly getting uncomfortable. You ran your fingers through the messy curls that you put in your hair, noticing that most of them had fallen out. You took another gulp of the bourbon, deciding to get up and get a tub of ice cream out of the fridge.

As you walked to the kitchen, your mind wandered, wondering why Tom was even with you. You weren’t all that pretty, you weren’t famous, and you weren’t very smart. You worked as a secretary most days at a law firm, the rest of your time spent as an amateur editor for small writers. You couldn’t compare to the women Tom worked with or were around in Hollywood. You didn’t know why he had chosen you over all the women that would have been ten times better for him. Not to mention all the baggage you had. You had been mentally, verbally, and physically abused as a child, leading to severe depression and anxiety, as well as post traumatic stress disorder. You often felt like you were a burden, pulling everyone down with your constant low states and large amount of insecurities.

A sigh slipped past your lips as you stumbled into the kitchen, setting the bottle of bourbon on the counter as you pulled open the freezer, grabbing the chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream that was sitting in the door. You glanced at the other fridge door, debating whether to grab a bottle of beer as well. You decided not, seeing as you still had half the bottle of bourbon left. Grabbing a spoon and the bottle, you made your way over to the couch, not caring that you were still in just your undergarments.

You could hear drunken laughter down the hall, another sigh escaping as you opened the carton and dug in, sticking the spoon full of sugary goodness in your mouth. You savored the sweet taste of the ice cream and slight bitterness of the chocolate, letting out a soft hum at the comfort it brought you. You ignored the jostling of the door knob, too focused on your self loathing to care.

The door swung open, Tom’s chuckles and goodbyes wafting into the room before the door was shut and the apartment was once more filled with silence. You heard the sound of Tom’s keys hitting the bowl, his shoes thudding on the floor as he removed them. You took a large swig of bourbon, attempting to wipe the black streaks off your cheek and onto the back of your hand.

“Hey babe.” You said softly, turning around and plastering a smile on your face. Your eyes raked over his appearance, biting back a sigh. He always looked so good, too good for him to be dating someone as ugly as you. You quickly blinked away the tears, keeping the smile on your face as Tom turned around.

“Hey love, how was the party?” He asked, smile wide as he walked over to you. You grabbed the blanket that had been abandoned on the couch, pulling it over your lap as he sat down beside you.

“It was ok.” You said with a shrug, looking down at the bottle of bourbon in your hand. You could tell Tom wasn’t as drunk as you, probably having sobered up some before coming home. You watched as Tom’s hand came into view, fingers wrapping around the bottle and gently removing it from you hand.

“How much have you drank?” He asked softly, warm breath against your shoulder as he pulled you close. He nuzzled into your neck, placing gentle kisses as he waited for your answer. You let out a sigh, fiddling with your hands as you kept your gaze on the bottle.

“Just a few… bottles.” You mumbled, sniffling quietly. “I mean, it was at least an hour before I started drinking again, so I sobered up a little.” You said, giving him a weak smile as you turned to face him. His brows furrowed in concern, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin.

“What’s wrong love?” He whispered, his voice as sweet as honey and laced with concern. His chocolate eyes stared into yours, love and concern radiating off of him. You swallowed down the lump that was forming, eyes burning with a new wave of tears. You didn’t deserve the man in front of you, images of all the pretty women from the bar and party flashing through your head.

“I don’t deserve you.” The words slipped past your lips before you could stop them, tears starting to stream down your cheeks. “I’m not famous, I’m not pretty, I’m not super fit and confident. I hate large crowds and suffer from social anxiety. I’m too depressed half the time to leave the apartment.” A sob wracked through your body, voice breaking as your walls crumbled. “You live your life in the spotlight and I feel like I’m just dragging you down. Just being a burden. You deserve someone who’s as pretty as you and you can take with you everywhere and—“

You were cut off by Tom’s lips against yours. The kiss was sweet, his lips tasting of mint and alcohol. You melted into him as his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your heart raced in your chest, his skin burning against yours. Your noses brushed against each other as he pulled away, forehead resting on yours.

“Y/N, you are absolutely gorgeous. I don’t care that you don’t attend every event with me. I don’t care that you don’t have a six pack and a super skinny figure. I don’t mind staying in when you’re upset. I don’t mind avoiding large crowds to keep you comfortable. As long as I have you, I will be happy. You make me happy. You make me whole. You are my heart, my home.” He gently cupped your face, lips brushing against yours as he smiled. Your skin tingled where his skin made contact, your cheeks burning a bright red at his words. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat, a fresh set of tears rolling down your cheeks at his words. Your heart swelled with pure love, stomach fluttering with butterflies. You reached up, cupping the back of his neck and pulling his lips to yours.

“My angel. My darling. My sweet baby girl.” He said between kisses, his hands slowly moving to your waist. He pulled you into his lap, smiling against your lips as he held you close. “You are perfect, my love.”

A happy sob escaped as you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face against him. Maybe it was the alcohol making you so emotional, but you wouldn’t trade this feeling of joy for anything as you felt his arms wrap around you, hugging you tight to his chest as he continued to whisper all the things he loved about you into your hair.

AN: I hope you all enjoyed! I wrote this during an emotional night, so this has some of my own feelings in it. I didn’t want to edit too much of the raw stuff out when I wrote this, so this is the final product.

Thanks for reading!

~ LoLo *^-^*

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Send me any questions, what you thought, or if you have any ideas!

Tagging my beautiful mutuals: @spidey-waffles11 @parkerpuffwrites @marvellousparkerpeter @spiderkat1248 @midnightmagicmusings @marvelrreigns @loveme-hollandx @softspideyboy @mlt2000 @harringtonsholland @ptersparkers @spidey-holland7 @devin-marie @starlight-fires @starenemy @mybabyboytony

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#tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland is adorable #eeyore101247

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ladyruina · 5 years

Text

First story on this site

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since promotion day and to be honest, I had no freaking clue what Promotion Day even was. Apparently once every month the facility selects someone to be “promoted”, the problem is that the people who don’t make the promotion selection get bare minimum notification. Turns out my sector was just informed that I was transferred to a new sector...no one even knew where I went ...explains what happened to Silica. Today, after three weeks, I woke up to a waiting room. Empty seats on every side and beneath my...tush. The same metal box I lived in for the past seventeen years after “recruitment” and would probably die in. The room had the same aesthetic as everywhere else in the facility, stainless steel walls and flooring with well lit bulbs. Couldn’t tell which type of lightbulb though I’d have to gamble fluorescent bulbs with UV integration, cheap, effective and keeps us alive for a little bit longer. Just how the facility likes it. As per my regular protocol when in an unfamiliar space without a commanding officer I entered a status I have titled, “eyes down, nose out of others business”. It’s embarrassing to say that it took a rough fifteen seconds before realizing that the marks of claws against the floor were EVERYWHERE. You adjust to this kind of thing in the facility, there’s always something clawing up the floors, crawling up the walls or eating your friends upper lobe… rest in peace Franklin. My mind defaulted to entity containment training, signs of anomalous activity identified, analyze the signs: three toed claws, they appear to be dexterous and agile similar to species of avians and raptors. Stage four determine if anomalous being has moved from the ar-, that’s when I finally looked up. Three seats down from me stood a humanoid figure, full combat armor with the exact raptorian legs and feet that produced the scratch marks but the entity was calm almost seemed like it was waiting, same as me save for a bit of an impatient air. It swiftly and repetitively tapped its talons against the ground. Naturally my first thought occurred. “Oh god, is promotion just code word for feeding me to an entity.” I scanned the room only to discover many more entities, some looked very similar to the raptorian entity, others were vastly different. Entities with helmets resembling felines moving from one individual to another, entities with creepy masks that were standing on the walls and ceilings to avoid the clutter on the ground, entities that had no eye holes but spikes at the back on the helmet that vaguely reminded me of bats. All were equipped with combat armor and....facility issue weaponry? Aside from that there were few other schmucks in the room that looked a lot like me, scared, panicked and confused. I looked over to the impatient one only to see it staring at me.

“Shit!” it said in a surprisingly human voice “I-uh, sorry about starin’. It’s always just so weird to see one of you in here.”

“One of...me?” I implored.

“Y’know, an unaugmented.” it gestured at all of me. “So… weird after you’ve gone through the process. So, y’know which one you’ll be?”

I hesitated. “What?”

“Y’know. Like a raptor, a bat, a cat. That sorta thing.” it seemed to be naming things off the top of its head. “I’m a raptor so you could learn the ropes with me if you end up a part of the pack.”

This fascinated me, I had never been allowed to examine or interview an entity that I had no knowledge of. So a part of me was excited despite realizing that at any moment this entity could unhinge it’s non apparent jaws and rip into my throat with it’s horrific unseen maw. Yet the pioneer sense of exploring the unknown just...overcame me.

“So what are raptors?” I asked.

“Well, you’re lookin at one.” it said in a smug tone. “We’re faster and more dexterous than the others. Only downside is that itchy to move sensation you get due to the energy boost they hook you up with and that these masks keep you alive.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Heh. yeah, that’s what I said. Apparently The Fixer said that our oxygen has been made “inefficient” by the pollution of the modern world so we’re hooked up with some sorta super oxygen. Apparently it’s the kinda stuff dinosaurs used to breath so that’s pretty badass.”

“And that helps?”

“Gives us the energy to bounce off walls, literally.”

“Fascinating… are the other entities safe to converse with?”

“Ent-? Oh, them? Yeah most of em are chill, might get an extreme one or two but they should be reasonable.”

“Right, thank you.”

“Eh, no prob dude.”

I stood up and began to wander over to one of the “bats” who was standing in a group of its own kin. I began to raise my hand to greet it as I approached, a quick “hey” to get it’s attention only to be interrupted.

“Yes?” it said in a high pitched tone, turning to face me before it even should have known I was on my way. Apparently my shock was apparent as it recoiled quickly. “Right, sorry. I forgot unaugmented wouldn’t know about that. I heard you coming, you’d be surprised how easily you are to hear coming.”

“Echolocation?”

“Indeed! Along with some other traits.” It said “I’m basically omniscient with these mods! I can tell you anything about this room without even looking at it.”

“Hm.” I smirked. “How about this? What color is my shirt?”

It stared at me for a second before giving a light punch. “Cheating asshole.”

“Just wanted to see if you’re capable of processing color.”

“You could’ve asked.”

the amusement faded from my expression as I began to realize that what I said was quite apparently a sore topic.

“Oh...sorry.”

“Whatever.”

I began to awkwardly leave the company of the bats before slumping back into my chair. A few minutes go by and I’m bored out of my goddamn mind. Wish they left me a phone to check, or a magazine to read or a pistol to shoot myself with. Between the embarrassment of my slip-up and the boredom I think the lead would be preferable.

“Excuse me.” said a familiar voice. “I couldn’t help but notice multiple strains in your face aligning with stress that may be caused by the process of transferring to a new region. Is it possible that I may alleviate some of your stress through a formal discussion?”

I looked up, it was goddamn impossible. I heard she was transferred and she just never responded to any message from then on, I thought she either ditched me or… the far more likely scenario, eviscerated or incinerated.

“Silica?” the name of my best friend. “Silica is that you?”

The entity looked confused. “Curious. You have information on my title but records state that you were only stationed here today.”

“Silica. It’s me.” I said in a shaken tone. “Devin.”

“Devin…” she stared at me blankly, moments passed by. “Ah yes. We used to be close friends, is this information correct?”

“Yes. so you’ve been here this whole time?”

“Affirmative, Devin.”

“What happened? Why didn’t you respond to any messages I sent?”

Another brief silence. “I just checked my message log, I received none of them under the name of “Devin” or any related pseudonym.”

“Really?” this was...a bit heartbreaking to say the very least. “You had to keep in touch with Evelyn! I remember the day you got Evelyn’s contact address and you were a goddamn mess. Head over heels! Please tell me you kept in touch.”

Another goddamn pause. “Oh yes, Evelyn. I suppose she was very nice and pretty wasn’t she?”

“What are you talking about?!” the other entity’s started staring at me. I was getting loud. “You sound like you don’t care! You goddamn loved her and now she’s an afterthought?!”

“Please calm yourself. You’re becoming exacerbated and it may draw negative connotations towards you in future conversations with the other people residing in this room.”

I began to look over, the entities around me seemed...concerned. “S-sorry. I’m just hurt is all. It feels like you don’t remember...anything from back at Mind’s Edge.”

“Oh! That I can answer! I don’t!” she said so simply. My heart goddamn sank into the Mariana Trench and she said it so easily.

“You..forgot?”

“Don’t take it personally. Cat units have an AI planted into their brain in order to give them in depth data banks of medical procedures as well as a list of information that may be useful. This unfortunately has to replace long term memories which our AI assistants must remind us of. This also can lead to stunted emotional development. Fortunately though the emotional stagnation only caused depression in earlier Cat units. It also allows us to be proper care takers without having to worry about emotional errors such as becoming overly attached to the patient in therapy settings or panicking in active combat treatment scenarios.”

“I...need some time to process all of this.”

“Acknowledged. Please contact me or another Cat unit if you require any further psychological or physiological aid.”

“Y-yeah, got it. You got it.” That’s probably what I said. Can’t remember if it was actually what I said or not, I was in a haze. Every entity in this room was...a person? My best friend had forgotten about me. The whole world around me just faded. My greatest fear though was...what came next. My thoughts were cut short by the distant sound of heavy claws scraping against the cold metal rang out. As it approached, I could hear the sound of cloth being dragged across the ground. A voice spoke, both high and low pitched with a sort of rattle in its tone.

“Routine Procedures completed. Additional Augmentation scheduled.”

The door on the farside of the room opened.

“Devin.” The creature spoke “Devin Hale. Augmentation scheduled. Follow for Augmentation.”

#original story #fiction #science fiction #transhumanism

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c-j-writes · 5 years

Text

Fictober 2019

Prompt #9 “There is a certain taste to it.”

[Untitled Gay Mess]

Rating: T

Warnings/Tags: Will involve drug abuse in later chapters

Chapter Nine

Kloe had a busy week, so we weren’t able to make plans until the weekend. In the meantime, I agreed to work as hard as I could on staying focused during our sessions. The first set of quizzes and projects were starting to come up in my classes and doing well on those would help to set a precedent for myself. That’s what Kloe said at least, she thinks it’ll wire my brain to want to match those scores and help me keep up with the work. I don’t think my brain works like that, but it was worth a try.

Sophie had been texting me non stop all week, but I wouldn’t break. If she wanted to talk to me, she was going to have to do it in person. And I knew she wouldn’t, so it gave me time to sort through what exactly I was going to say to her. It might not be the healthiest option, but it was so much easier to just ignore that until I had to deal with it. I did miss her driving me to school, but Darian was so enthusiastic, I almost didn’t mind the change.

The week went by faster than Monday had. It was like, once I poured my heart out a bit, the universe took it easy on me for a while.

Saturday afternoon, Kloe picked me up from my house to go out to lunch. She wouldn’t tell me where we were going beforehand, so I just sat in the passenger seat and watched the buildings we passed.

“I didn’t know you drove,” I commented. The silence hadn’t been awkward, but I wanted to talk to her.

“Yeah, I got my license when we moved down here since I didn’t know anyone to get around with.” Her hair was twisted into a braid that wrapped around to drape over her shoulder. I dragged a hand through mine, which I’d left down after half an hour of putting it into a ponytail and taking it down and repeating.

Let’s make one thing clear: I was not nervous. I just wanted to look nice since it was the first time we were hanging out by choice. There was nothing weird about that.

“I never got around to taking the test, I was always too busy.” Not to mention, my father wasn’t the type to get me a car for my birthday, so I’d be on my own in that aspect.

“Well, one thing that happens when you move across the country is finding yourself with a lot of spare time.” She never took her eyes off of the road, which was a welcome difference from Sophie’s driving style which was basically a game of let’s see if we live. We pulled into a small parking lot next to an old-style building. It was odd seeing a place look so dated when everything around this town was usually so new.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been here,” I said, glancing around for the sign. Kloe stepped out of the car, so I followed suit.

“It’s a little Greek place, I found it while I was exploring a few weeks ago.” We walked to the entrance and I found the name of the restaurant on the door. “Apollo Devine” was written in script letters.

The restaurant was pretty quiet. We were the only customers other than an elderly couple near the door. I stopped at a sign that requested to wait for the host to seat you, but Kloe kept walking and sat down at a booth down the main aisle so I followed her. There were fake plants everywhere. Ivy hanging from the walls and from a few giant bowls placed around the room. As I took in the quaint atmosphere, a tall woman with curly, dark hair walked up to the table and passed us each a menu.

“Hello, ladies, can I get you anything to drink?”

“Hey, Kate, could I get an iced tea?” The woman nodded, smiling down at Kloe and then turning her gaze to me.

“I’ll have water, please.” Kate walked away, her hair bouncing behind her. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to a Greek restaurant.” Kloe raised an eyebrow at me.

“I guess for some people there is a certain taste to it, but I do feel bad because you’ve obviously been missing out.” Her eyes were brighter than I remembered them on the first day as she scanned the menu. When Kate came back to take our orders and give us our drinks, I’d forgotten to even look at the options, I was too busy staring at the goddess in front of me. With a quick glance, I ordered the first thing my eyes fell on and handed the woman my menu.

“So, you like Greek food?” I asked. Kloe nodded.

“Yeah, my family’s Greek, so it kind of comes with the heritage.”

“I didn’t know you were Greek.”

“My mom’s side of the family is. I grew up in the same town she did, so all of her family was around us. My Ya-ya owned a restaurant like this one, so when I come here it makes me feel closer to her.” Kloe glanced around the room like she had seen it a thousand times and it was a fond memory. “When we moved here, it was hard. We left behind all the family I’d known my entire life.”

“Why did you guys move?”

“My father got a job offer over here and my parents decided it would be the best option. Supposedly this is a much better school district than the one I was in, but from the looks of the classes so far, it’s a step-down.” She drummed her fingers on the table, looking down at her hands. Her eyes were getting dimmer and I wish I knew how to brighten them again.

“When I was younger, we used to travel around a lot for my mom’s job. I swear I went to three different schools every year until seventh grade. But it made us closer, I think, spending all those years only having enough time to know each other.” My head swam with thoughts of my elementary years. We were all over the country. Not many kids can say they saw all fifty states before middle school.

“What did your mom do?” The words caught in my throat for a second. It’s been so long since someone’s asked me that question. Everyone’s known me as the soccer player following in her mom’s footsteps for as long as I can remember. Even strangers seemed to know who I was before I met them.

“She uh… she was a soccer player.” Kloe cocked her head to the side and quirked an eyebrow. God, why did she have to make my stomach swirl like that?

“So that’s where the dumbass jock energy comes from, huh?” A quick burst of laughter escaped me at her comment.

“Language, Darling,” Kate snapped from beside us, holding a tray of steaming food. We both jumped a little. I hadn’t even noticed her walk up.

“Sorry, Kate,” Kloe managed through her own giggles. We shared a glance, each of us slightly red from laughing.

With a few muttered thank you’s and a jokingly stern face from Kate, we dug into our food. Kloe was right, there was a certain taste to it, but it wasn’t bad enough o make a deal out of so I just powered through. We sat in relative silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the food in front of us and the atmosphere around us.

We were both nearly done with our plates before each of us spoke again. I was surprised for Kloe to actually start the conversation back up.

“So, hey, now that I know you’re… batting for my side, I guess,” she started. The wheels in my mind were turning trying to comprehend what she was talking about, but once she continued it fell into place. “You wouldn’t mind me asking for some advice, right?”

“You want to ask me for advice?” I raised my eyebrows at her. “As in, the one who literally cried to you this week over coming out?” Kloe rolled her eyes.

“Okay, clearly it’s not ideal, but you seem to be familiar with the person I’m interested in and you might know something that could help me out.” I laughed at the situation, but Kloe kept a stone face so I calmed myself down. And I ignored the splinters that were spreading through me with the realization that she had a crush… and I clearly wasn’t on me.

“Who?” She’d have to be specific when I knew most of the girls at our school.

“Mack.” My face went cold as the blood drained from it and any remarks I had at the ready failed immediately. Suddenly, I couldn’t keep eye contact with Kloe, I had to look away. At the plants or the pictures on the walls or the family outside the window. But I knew I had to say something, I couldn’t just ignore the conversation.

Of course, she’d ask me about Mack. Mack probably retold our entire summer to her since they’re apparently best friends or something. I’m surprised Kloe was even shocked to find out about my sexuality when she’d been hanging around with Mackenzie anyway.

“So Mack told you?” My voice was smaller, but the anger behind it was clear. I knew Kloe didn’t deserve that anger, this wasn’t about her, it was between Mackenzie and I. But she was here. And she was bringing it up. And if she knew anything, she should know that was a bad idea.

“Mack didn’t tell me anything.” I glanced back at her, searching her eyes for anything that would tell me if she was lying or not. But I can’t read faces. “I noticed you two seemed close at the party last weekend and before that, didn’t she drive you home from the party on the first day?”

So I guess I wasn’t being as discreet as I’d like to have been with Mack. I can easily blame her for that, though, because she won’t just leave me the fuck alone.

“She didn’t tell you anything?” It seemed too good to be true. If I were in her position, I’d have spilled the second we met just to spite me.

“Every time I asked about it, she just said you were an old friend. Which doesn’t make sense because we’re both the new kids here.” Kloe looked at me pointedly. She clearly wanted some answers, but I didn’t want to have this conversation. Granted, it would be easier to talk about it with someone who at least understands the gay part. But some selfish part of me still wants to keep this summer as my own little secret. If no one knows about it, then no one can rip it apart.

“I’ll tell you this much if she likes you, she’ll make it blatantly obvious. You will not miss it.” Kloe looked down at her plate, thinking about my words. I silently thanked Mack for keeping our summer between us, even when she had no reason to.

“That’s shit advice.” I shrugged.

“I tried to warn you.”

#untitled gay mess #fictober19 #my ocs #original story #prompt 9 #she a little late but she got the spirit

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themadlostgirl · 5 years

Text

Not Dead Yet (Part 72)

*Visual storytelling!*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warnings: none

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

Peter sat in his Thinking Tree. The pipes resting in his hands. Every time he brought them up to his lips to play he dropped them back by his side.

It had been ten years since Y/N disappeared. They crawled by at a pace that made it feel even longer. Every year, every day just dragged on and on. Sometimes months would go by of him sitting around not talking to anyone.

He missed her. His Lost Girl.

He was so utterly bored without her around. He was also incredibly lonely. Some days he would wake up and wonder why she wasn’t asleep next to him before remembering she was gone. What he would give to just forget about her. Just for one day. To have one single day where she didn’t consume his every thought. Wondering where she was. What she was doing. If she was even…

He didn’t let his mind wander that far. To think about it would make it more real.

That’s how he ended up here. He had been strolling along Neverland when he came to his tree. Nothing different until he noticed the large knot in the trunk that hid the entrance to the underground cavern. He slid through and a wave of bittersweet memories hit him. He could practically hear her laugh echoing off the dirt walls.

The old rumpled bed with its pelts and furs thick with dust. Cobwebs had returned between every candle stub and wall torch. Sitting in the corner along with some other forgotten books of Y/N’s was the book simply titled: Neverland. He knew he shouldn’t have but he opened it and read through the entire thing. His entire life mapped out like a simple story. When he got to the part where Y/N entered the narrative his reading got slower. He didn’t even need to read the dialogue to know what had happened. The illustrations that portrayed perfect snapshots of their time together.

He stopped reading when it got to days before Y/N disappeared.

The pipes laid heavy on his hip. He didn’t need to have anymore reminders. He didn’t need to keep living through this pain. Peter had the perfect amnesia inducer right at his side. No matter how many times he gathered the courage to start playing and forget about Y/N and all their history he backed out. What if…

What if she does come back? What if it’s just another day or another week then she’s home? What if she is waiting for him to finally find her? What if…

What if...what if she is gone? What if he could wait another decade and she’d still be no closer to being back with him? What if there was no one waiting for him? What if she really was…

With an anger, or maybe an intense fear, Peter finally brought the pipes up to his lips and blew. The first note came clear and soft then it was gone. Something had dropped from the sky and knocked the pipes out of his hand.

Looking down he saw the source glinting on a branch below. “What in the world?” he muttered as he went to retrieve it.

Sitting there perfectly placed in the leaves of the branch was Y/N’s old pearl necklace. But how could it be here falling from the sky? Y/N had lost it years ago during the time she was speaking with the spinster women.

He gripped the pearl tightly. “No.” he whispered, “No, I’m not doing this.” He threw the necklace as far as he could. He started to search for his pipes and instead felt the pearl hit him on the top of his head.

“You cannot make me remember. You cannot just drop this into my life! You can’t!” He threw it again and again it returned to him.

He turned his face to the sky shouting. “I don’t want to remember! You hear me you old bats! I will not suffer through this anymore! She’s gone! Y/N is gone!”

He choked back a sob that threatened to escape. No. “I am not crying. I’m not!” he forced the words out but it didn’t stop the tears that pooled in his eyes. “It’s been ten years. Ten years and I have tried. I have searched everywhere and used all my power to find her but she cannot be found. There’s nothing to find. Why should I have to keep going through this when it will lead to nothing? Is this just another part of my curse? To have to bear the pain of knowing my Lost Girl, my Y/N, is gone?”

The pearl warmed in his hand. Peter looked down at it. His vision blurry through the tears that were now freely falling. It was pure white but in it he could swear he saw something. Maybe it was a trick of the light or his sanity finally cracking but for a moment he saw her. Y/N. Just for a moment her face passed along the smooth white pearl. Reason told him he was going insane. Another part of him believed though. They had brought this to him for a reason.

“Okay,” he ceded, “You win. No pipes, no forgetting. Y/N, my stupid, stubborn Lost Girl, is still out there. Somewhere. She’ll come home oneday. Till then I suppose it’s misery and loneliness and extreme worry for me. Is that what you wanted?”

The only response he got was the trees rustling in the wind. Peter stared down at the pearl necklace in his hand. It showed nothing now. Just white.

He brought it to his lips and whispered, “Y/N, I know you’re out there. You’re too stubborn to die. We both know that. Just...just know that I’m waiting for you. I’ll always be waiting for you. Goodnight, pet.”

~~~

I’m waiting for you. I’ll always be waiting for you.

This voice. I know this voice.

Goodnight, pet.

Pet? Pet. His precious pet.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

“Ugh!” I groaned as I was pulled from my dream. I slammed a fist down on the alarm clock.

What had that been about? I tried to close my eyes to go back but it was too late. I was awake and the dream was flitting away. As well as the voice. I couldn’t figure out from where but I felt like I knew that voice. It was so soothing to hear.

I wiped at my eyes to clear the sleep away and found them wet with tears. Why had I been crying? Was it the dream? I tried harder to remember what had been going on in my subconscious just moments before but it was nothing but a forgotten memory now. One thing was for sure this was gonna bug me for the rest of the day.

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

“He misses her.” Devin said as they glanced at Pan. It was the first time he had been in the camp in months.

“Misses her? Are you kidding? He never mentions her, doesn’t even acknowledge she was ever here.” Nick scoffed, “I would think he’d have forgotten her.”

“Oh no,” Devin sighed, “Haven’t you noticed?”

“Noticed what?”

“The sun hasn’t shone since she left.” He glanced at the cloudy sky, the always cloudy sky.

Nick stared up as well. “You think she’ll ever return?”

“She has to. This is her home.” After seventeen years though even Devin was starting to doubt they would ever see their sister again.

~~~

“Marigold?” I turned and saw Mayor Mills standing behind me.

“Ms.Mills, hello.” I turned my attention to the baby carrier at her side, “And who is this?”

“My son, Henry.”

“Well hello Henry, aren’t you just a handsome boy.”

“He is, isn’t he? I had a request for you.”

“Of course. What?”

“I heard you are the best babysitter in town. If that’s true then I could think of no one better to watch Henry while I’m at work.”

“Oh Ms.Mills I’d be happy to but I’m at school most of the day so I’d be pretty useless. The daycare is more than good enough to watch Henry for the day.”

“I know. He will be staying at the daycare for most the day. I would just need you to watch him if I am running late with work or have plans on the weekends. Is that alright?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem. Just give me enough notice and I’ll be there.”

“Perfect. What do you ask for your services?”

“Eight dollars an hour.”

“Sounds fair enough, young girl, busy life. Need some cash to spend for nights for yourself, hm?”

“Just saving up for my own car.” I tickled his chubby baby belly. He let out a small squeal of delight and grabbed my finger in his tiny fist. “I’m gonna have a lot of fun getting to know you, Henry.”

~~~

“I think we should tell Pan the truth.”

Felix looked across at Wendy.

“This is why you called me here?” he rolled his eyes and made to leave her makeshift house. He was wondering why she had gone through such trouble to get him here. Knowing it was about Y/N...he wasn’t wasting anymore time on this. “We’re not telling him.”

“Felix!” She cut him off. She may have been several inches shorter than him but stood unmoving and menacing between him and the door. “It’s been nearly twenty years since she left.”

“Yes. Twenty years we wouldn’t have had if she had stayed.” He tried to shove her out of the way but she had a dagger dipped in dreamshade poised right at his heart. It was probably a mistake to keep on training her after Y/N left. She was getting to be an actual threat.

He sighed and backed off. “Continue?”

“I know that this was the plan and it has worked. Which is why I think it’s safe to tell him now.”

“And why is that?”

“If he knows why we did it and tell him that she’s actually safe and alive then--”

“Then he’ll know we’re the reason she’s been missing all these years. I’m not putting my head on his chopping block because you’re feeling guilty.”

“But he deserves to know that she is alive at the very least! You see how morose he's been since she disappeared.”

“That is the point. If he's happy then he's dead.”

“But--”

“If I see you breathing a word of this to Pan then so help me I will kill you. This may be an island of make believe but this is no game, Wendy. All our lives, not just Pan’s are at stake. You best remember that.”

With that he left.

It gave him no joy to see his best friend in such a state but their survival was dependent on Pan alone. Y/N had been killing him and he was letting her. Felix knew why Pan allowed it. The idiot had to go and catch feelings for her and it created years of chaos, pain, and needless death. Felix was glad she was gone. The sky may be cloudy and the boys may be tense but these past almost twenty years have been the calmest Neverland has been in a long time.

Whether Pan liked it or not he needed this. The island needed this. A time for rest.

Still, Felix would be lying if he didn’t also count down the years until Y/N returned. When she returns home the island will wake and the fun can start again.

(First) (Previous) (Next)

#ouat #ouat peter pan #peter pan ouat #slowburn #neverland #peter pan imagine #peter pan x reader

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cybrfang · 5 years

Text

Lost Boys (1987) Imagine 'Trust Me'

"Imagine it's New Years Eve and the clock is counting down. You don't have anyone to kiss and the Lost Boys take it upon themselves to fix that. Also could Michael, Star, and Laddie be apart of the group? Like they've fed? Also Michael and Star are together in this???"

How can I say no to you?

For New Years 💜💚

@thelostgirl-crylittlesister @rem-rod-thepsychgod. @poedamnsexy

You walked around the boardwalk, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. Your friend and his boyfriend following you, laughing along to whatever joke they were sharing between themselves. It was loud. There was no other way to describe it.

New Years Eve in Santa Carla.

Drunk surf-Nazis, stoned teens, and the couples. Familes everywhere, struggiling to keep their kids with them. It was like this every year you showed up. You couldn't help but wish to be apart of all the fun like any other time you were visiting. But this time it just felt like a drag without your boyfriend. Well... Ex boyfriend. It wasn't that you missed him, you didn't honestly. You felt better without him. But it seems like every time you sort of forget about him, someone has to bring him up and ask how you're doing.

Grammy: "You and Tom were so perfect for one another. This is just a bit of a break right?"

Grampa: "Why'd you break up with him? I liked him. Had a good job that one."

Sam: "Are you alright? I know how much you liked him..."

Hell the only two people that seemed really okay with what you did were the Frog brothers. They haven't even brought it up with you, and always shut down Sam or others when they brought him up. But they couldn't be around to stop everyone all the time. It seemed your friends wanted to constantly make you miserable.

"Hey (Y/N) you're not still thinking of Thomas are you?" Eddy asked, leaning into his boyfriend, Devin. You sighed, rubbing your temple, trying not to sound too annoyed. "No... I really wasn't. Ya know... Until ya brought him up. Again." You could practically here the apologetic smile in his voice. "Sorry kid... I was thinking about later tonight." This caused you to stop, turning to look at him.

"What do you mean later tonight?" This caused Devin to laugh a bit, astonishment in his voice. "(Y/N)... It's New Years eve. You and Tommy always got a front row to the ball dropping from the coaster and made a huge deal about slobbering all over one another." You scoffed, "We did not slobber." You continued walking along, pushing people out of your way as nicely as you could. Devin ran up to your right side as Eddy caught up to your left. Both boys linked arms with you. Eddy raised a brow, "You never answered kid." You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway.

You jumped a bit, startling both of them, "I'm actually planning to meet someone, we've been talking since yesterday morning. I don't know who they are-" you narrowed your eyes and tried your best at a sultry voice "-but that's part of the attraction." You laughed and tried something else at the horrified looks on the boys faces. "I plan to find the most handsome or gorgeous person on this boardwalk and kiss the life out of them." You laughed a bit, loving the warmth the boys provided. Devin leaned closer to you, side-eyeing Eddy. "I don't think Eddy would want you smooching the gorgeous out of me. But, if you insist." He leaned in, making his lips look like a fishes mouth.

"Ugh, as if!" You joked, doging his face, letting Eddy take the blow to his cheek. You laughed, ducking away from the boys, letting them engulf one another. "You two do what you gotta, I'm gonna see if I can find my people." Eddy groaned pulling away from Devin's onslaught of kisses. "Why do you always hang with them, they make me uncomfortable." You scrunched your face in displeasure, "I never said you were invited. Besides you can chill out on the beach and get sand in your ass." You knew Eddy was going to bitch, but knowing that in advance doesn't lessen the annoyance. "They don't like you either ya know." You bolted away before Devin could respond, looking for your family away from home.

It took a bit of time but you finally spotted a head of blonde hair. "Laddie!" The boy whipped around, a bright smile on his face at hearing your voice. "(Y/N)! You're back!" You ran up to him, bending down to pick him up. You didn't need to put much work in it, seeing as a gust of wind seemed to push him up in the air. You rolled your eyes, hoping no one saw that. "How's my main man!" You heard his childish laughter behind your head. "I thought Tom was your main man." You groaned putting him down. "Not anymore Laddie. Not anymore." You grabbed his hand, watching his face process what you just said. "But...-" he started out,"-but who'll you kiss tonight?"

Ugh! Not him too. Why can't everyone just let you leave Tom in the past. You opened your mouth, ready to explain to Laddie that you don't need to kiss anyone when a pair of arms wrapped around your stomach. "You need someone to kiss tonight?" You blushed at the voice, but frowned shaking your head. "I don't need to kiss anyone David." You looked back at the platinum blonde behind you, a lazy shit eating grin on his face. The rest of the boys behind you as well, including Star.

You let go of Laddie's hand as he ran over to where Michael and Star were standing. You pried David's arms off of you, placing your hand on his cheek. "Any other time I might be excited to see you David, but ya killed the feeling." The smell of a copper penny stagnant in the air, made you gag while you let go of David's face. "Apparently the feeling isn't the only thing you've killed tonight." A sharp laugh broke you out of your dramatic reaction. "Oh shut up Paul." You spared a glance toward David, giving him an apologetic smile at his raised eyebrow. You walked away towards Paul, giving him a tight hug, his laughter stopping. "Aw I missed you too babe, look at you all single and cute." You pushed him off rolling your eyes, saying hi to the others.

You figured you might as well tell them now before they tick you off. "Okay here's the thing-" you grabbed Michael's leather jacket, (he was already handing it to you anyway) putting it on. It made you look like a dwarf in size but it made you feel suddenly safe in public, with the contact "-Yes I broke up with Tom. Yes I'm fine. I'm hella chill about it." You smiled at the groans coming from everyone but Star and Laddie. "No, I'm sadly not kissing anyone tonight, but again I'm fine with it. Can I just have fun with you guys?" You looked around, a pleading look on your face.

A puff of smoke blew into your face from David, his head tilted to the side with his eyes narrowed. "What?" You asked, anxious laughter in your voice. He always had a way of making your stomach do flip-flops. It was the way he would stare at you, like he could read everything about you and know you more than you did. Before you could say anything he chuckled and turned around, walking away.

You sighed and followed along, feeling a hand wrap around your wrist. Looking up seeing Dwayne avoid your gaze. "Dwayne bud if you wanted to hold my hand you should've just said so." You joked, prying your wrist away from him but grabbing his hand instead. He sighed looking down at you. "Wanna go get something to eat?" You laughed and clutched your throat, giving him wide eyes. "Dwayne I thought you liked me being around?" This got a chuckle from him, making you smile as he pulled you away from everyone, heading towards a small little boardwalk restaurant called Hunan Delight. You looked at the menu, trying to find anything that the two of you would like. That wasn't that hard seeing that he always ate what you ate, giving you the rest of what he had.

You decided on General Tso's chicken and sat down. After 5 minutes of silence you sighed, tossing some rice at the man across from you. "Okay what's the deal? You and I are normaly talking at this point." This earned a small smiled from Dwayne as he continued to chew, choosing to ignore your inquiry. You scrunched your face and kept at it. Every minute or so you would ask a question and get either ignored or he would spout some random bullshit. Finally you gave up and just continued eating, letting your mind wonder while you stared at the man in front of you. He got your attention with a cough and a serious face. "Hey (Y/N)... you gonna stay the night tonight?" You gave him a soft smile at the question, knowing the deeper meaning. "I don't know yet... I'm still thinking. But it won't be long from now." He leaned forward placing a hand on your cheek, allowing you to lean into it. "Don't think too long. You and I both know how David gets while waiting. Plus we already care about you a surprisingly huge ass amount to let you go." He leaned back, taking his hand with him. You laughed, "Plus I know too much."

He joined your laughter, putting the rest of his food on your tray. As soon as you finished he grabbed your hand, pulling you to the carousel. You sighed, pulling him to a stop when you saw it. "Come on, everytime we go on there someone gets in trouble." This earned another smile, "We're not going on there, I'm just switching you over." This left you confused, but before you could do anything, he grabbed your face and you instinctively closed your eyes. The next thing you knew, Dwayne's lips were pressed against yours, moving slowly. Almost as if he was giving you an out if you wanted it. His lips were soft, and warm. Lucky the smell of blood wasn't too strong. You thought it was a bit weird that you didn't want to stop him anytime soon. It's not like you were in love with him, but you would be lying if you never thought about this before. Almost as soon as it started, it ended. You couldn't even say anything to him, because he was already walking away from you.

"What the fuck..." Before you could process any of what just happened, you felt fingers tugging at your hair. "So you ready?" You turned to look at Paul, an eyebrow raised in confusion. You wanted to ask him if he saw what happened with you and Dwayne, but you didn't know how to go about it. "Ready for what?" You asked, inwardly groaning as he pulled you to the rides. "I wanna take you on the twister!" This caused you to actually let out a groan, making Paul laugh. "Are you kidding me? I don't want to go on that thing!" Your protests were ignored as he pushed his way through the line, pulling you behind him. You turned to look at everyone and apoligize to them, but it seemed like mostly locals. You cringed at the fact that whenever you turn, they'll be afraid to speak up to you too.

You stopped at the front of the line with Paul, watching the Twister go. It was already making you feel sick to your stomach. It went like this: Two people get into one compartment and continuing standing as a saftey-bar is placed at their waists and the door is shut on them. The little compartment gets raised into the air and after what seems like forever starts spinning. It'll start slow and then just start ripping it. You always managed to avoid going on it, but after befriending the boys (and Star) they found out that you were afraid of heights.

-"Hey it's not just heights! You can see out of that little death room they put you in and you're not fully secure. THEN you start moving like fuckin helicopter blades!"-

After hearing that, they've done everything they can to get you on it. After countless attempts, you finally told them you would get on it on the last day of the year. You were hoping they would forget. But, looking at a bouncing Paul, you should've realized that he never would. He was always about pushing you out of your comfort zone and trying to get you to have fun. You didn't notice the ride had ended until you saw dizzy people walking out of the exit.

"You ready scaredy cat?" Paul asked, not waiting long for your answer or giving the ticket boy a ticket. You sighed when the boy didn't refuse the two of you from walking in. 'Of fucking course.' You thought to yourself. "Hold up you freakin maniac." You laughed a bit as he walked around, finding the best compartment. When he found it, you had already had your hair in a ponytail -no matter who hard it was, you almost broke the scrunchy...again- and your heart in your throat. Paul opened the door like he would for a date, smiling triumphantly as you slowly stepped in.

You both stood there and watched as a boy in a shirt with ripped off sleeves pushed the saftey-bar to your waists, waiting to hear the lock click and closed the door, sealing your fate in this death-trap. "Paul if I die, I hope David and Star beat your ass to a pulp." You said as the compartment you were in rose into the air. You felt hands on your shoulders, rubbing up and down in a dull attempt to calm you. You seemed to tune out everything, making a weird buzzing noise in your head as you stood there, waiting for the ride to move. It already seemed like 2 minutes and you knew the ride was about to start. You watched the boy who closed your door walk towards the panel. "Hey... (Y/N)?" Paul started, "Just remember that I love you okay?" You heard a loud click come from your saftey bar as Paul pushed it off the two of you. "Paul what the fuck are y-"

You were cut off with a grunt as the ride started spinning slowly. "Fix it now!" You demanded, looking at the energetic man in turn. He just gave you a care free smile and tried to grab your hand. You pushed it away in anger, even though you figured it could be safer holding his hand. But you weren't going to give him the satisfaction. He sighed in annoyance, but his eyes were still smiling. "Look, I'm just getting you ready for when you become one of us!" He jump a bit to empathize his point. You pushed your back against the little wall behind you as the ride bounced and started gaining speed. "Yeah I'll probably be fine with it then but I'm sure as hell not fucking fine with it now!" You felt a bit dizzy as the ride got faster, and you could hear screams around you from other people. You were about to scream when you felt Paul's hand in your's. You looked at him, about to yank away when you saw his eyes. "Chill, I got you. I'm not going to let anything hurt you. Okay?" The ride started bouncing a bit, pushing you towards Paul's side. "Sure sure! Just don't let me go okay!?" You squealed into his shoulder. You heard him let out a happy laugh as he nuzzled his face on the top of your head. "I promise!"

You let out a few screams during the ride in the start, but after a few humiliating minutes you started to have a bit of fun. Anytime the ride bounced, you let at a crazy laugh. Laughing was your way of handling shock, and it was one of Paul and Marko's favorite things about you. You let out a few screams as you flew towards the door, but it never popped open. You were having the time of your life and felt slightly dejected when the ride started to slow down. "One more time! One more time!" You and Paul started chanting, making others around you laugh. You looked down at the bar that Paul unlocked, watching as he pulled it back causing another click.

The two of you bounced away from the ride, Paul praising you. You looked at him to say thank you, but he grabbed you by the hand again, pulling you towards him. "Paul what are y-" Paul pulled your body flush against his, his mouth curving into a smile as you let out another squeak. He waited for a bit, looking at your lips. You didn't protest, letting him close the gap. Part of you knew this was going to happen. His lips moved against yours in an excited manner. Your lips moved back against his, but you were confused at what you were feeling. Just like Dwayne, you didn't mind but you still didn't get it. He squeezed your hip while his hand grabbed your ponytail. He pulled it a bit, causing you to let out a yelp. He laughed while pulling away, giving you a wink. "Paul?" You questioned as he pushed you into the crowd, dissapearing while you called his name.

After apologizing to the people you bumped into you heard a laugh. "Did you get ditched?" You spun around to face Marko bitting his gloved hand, staring at you with a playful look in his eyes. You gave a huff in response and walked to a small henna tattoo stand with him following behind you. You looked at the person getting a tattoo and started to speak to Marko. "Look I'm having a weird ass night, and it would be great if you just kind of got my mind off of it all." He let out a shitty little giggle, causing you look at him with hope. "You already have a plan don't you?" You let out an excited laugh as he pulled you away from the booth and to the bench across from the comic book shop run by the Frog Brothers and their parents with Sam as a new employee. "We need to wait for people to leave." You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway. One of the best things to do with Marko was to prank Edgar, Alan, and Sam. He's never told you why he does it. Everytime you asked he would mumble something about paying them back without actually hurting them and rub a scar across his heart. You assumed it was something in the past. Star had always told you it was a bit before they got rid of their old sire and way before Michael, Laddie, and her went back to the boys.

"So why tonight?" You watched Marko stare at the store messing with something in his pocket. He looked over at you and gave you a cheeky smile. "So Edgar and Alan beefed with David about him giving you the decision for whenever you change. So I've taken it upon myself to scare the shit out of them. With your help of course." He gestured to you with his free hand at the last words. You felt a strong surge of annoyance at his words, but definitely not at Marko. You have always been headstrong and you've always trusted your gut. When you met the boys, your gut had jumped at the sight of them. But it wasn't a bad feeling to you. It was a dangerous thrill. You loved the Frog Brothers, but they never seemed to grasp that your life was just that. Yours. "That's definitely the right choice." The last costumers walked out of the shop, making Marko wiggle a bit. You watched him as he bit his bottom lip, looking back at you. "How do you feel about blood?"

-A few moments later-

You ran into the comic book store with Marko hot on your heels, careful not to let anyone see what you looked like. You heard the metal door slam on the ground as Marko closed it. "What the hell! It's not even closi-" Edgar rounded the corner to look at whoever was fucking with the store this time, but he was cut off when you looked at him. "(Y/N)... What the fuck did you do?" He asked in a quiet voice. You viciously wiped at your arms, in a brushing off motion. You caught the attention of Sam and Alan, making them gasp. Marko spoke up, a wobble in his voice. "Okay... we fucked up big time. You guys need to help her." This statement seemed to cause Edgar to burst. "FUCKED UP?! WHAT DID WE TELL YOU!? OF COURSE YOU FUCKED UP!" Alan pulled Edgar away from the two of you when Marko let out a growl.

You spoke before he could say anything. "No... It was my fault." You heard your own voice crack, a tear fell down your cheek. You brushed it away, smearing the blood even more. You were covered in it. Blood ran down your arms, it was in your hair, and caked into your nails almost as if you had been digging into human flesh. "How... How is your fault (Y/N)?" Sam asked inching forward to you. You gave a quiet sob and looked at Marko. "I was thirsty and I just wasn't thinking. Marko was holding David's new flask for him and I t-thought that if it was new it wouldn't have blood in it." You shook your head, slumping down a bit. Alan walked up to Marko, his face normally passive but this time it was filled with a touch of anger. "You knew didn't you? You let this happen?!" His voiced raised in pitch. Marko flashed his eyes and gave Alan a small smile, but none of his regular joy showed.

Before he could say anything, Sam pulled Alan away. Both Frog brothers looked at Sam while a loud bang filled the room. Everyone looked back to where Marko once stood. "Where the hell did he go?" Edgar asked. You shrugged your shoulders, covering your mouth. "I don't know, and I don't care. Fix this!" You yelled pointing at your bloodied body. Alan shook his head, stepping back at bit. "The only way we can fix that... Would be to stake you." Edgar nodded with what his brother suggested. "No offense or anything, but you're a bloodsucker now. We'll have to stake you and the rest of them." He turned around, pulling Alan with him as they headed toward the back room. Sam let out a noise of disgust, "No! (Y/N)'s our friend, and Michael's my brother!" He paused for a moment, "Jesus christ Star might become my undead sister in-law!" Both brothers kept walking seeming to ignore Sam. "Hey! Listen to me for ch-" A terrified gurgle escaped Sam's mouth as he was slammed to the ground, a bunch of comic books scattering around him. Pictures of Superman and lesser know comics covered parts of his body when Edgar and Alan looked over. They saw half of your body hunched over Sam's twitching one, moving in a way to sugget that you were eating something. Edgar was the first to react, yelling out and rushing towards you. Before he and Alan could get to you, Marko jumped out in front of them from behind the counter. You could tell he was changed due to his long finger nails.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Marko yelled, startling the boys. At the same time he also made the shop shake a bit. Edgar and Alan launched backwards away from the vampire in front of them. It took them a full minute to almost charge when they heard Sam blow on a noise maker. "W-what... What the hell is going on?" Edgar demanded. You gave an ugly laugh in return clutching your stomach. Sam and Marko followed suit. After about 5 minutes of laughing both boys were red in the face. Alan looked at Sam. "You were in on it? Why?" It took a moment for Sam to catch his breath. When he did he pouted at Alan, "You told everyone we weren't dating anymore. Besides you should've called their bluff from the start." Edgar rolled his eyes but walked forward and helped the two of you up. You heard him mumbling about staking both of you and dunking Marko in holy water and see if that makes it permanent. Alan frowned, "What do you mean?" He looked over at Marko who began walking towards you. "After someone drinks vampire blood, it takes about an entire day for the craving of blood to kick in." You laughed looking at them as Marko wrapped his arms around your middle. "I thought you were professonals." Sam muttered, causing an out cry of protests.

You laughed leaning back in Marko, feeling his hands roaming your waist. Breathing in the scent of him left you light-headed. It was a smokey smell, probably from the bonfires. You felt one of Marko's hand reach up to your neck, leaving goosebumps in it's wake. "Tell me if it's okay..." You heard him mutter. You had a weird deja vu moment. You looked back at him, nodding with wide eyes. The boys were still arguing behind you when Marko placed his lips on yours. The sound around you dissipated as you focused on him moving against you. His lips were chaped from the constant biting, but it was what you figured. It didn't take away from the moment. In fact... It made you feel just as excited as he was. His hands were roaming around your front, careful not to touch your chest. His hands seemed to match his enthusiasm. They followed the speed on his lips. You both pulled away at the silence around you. The Sam shyly smiled, grabbing both boys hands. "Well I see that you're all busy. I guess we'll just leave you to it then." You scrunched up your face as you heard a quiet happy remark about Frogs. When you turned around, Marko had left.

This was just great. You walked out of the comic shop, not bothering to hide your apperance. You weren't really thinking about it as you walked towards the arcade. If you bet your life on any thing, it would be that Michael, Star, and Laddie would be there. When you pushed through the crowd -not hard since you were covered in fake blood- you gave a sigh of relief. You marched up to Michael and poled him on the shoulder. When he and Star turned around you held oit your arms. "So are you two going to kiss me too when I'm unaware and trying to be innocent?" Star's eyes widened at the sight of your body, and raised an eyebrow when you told her it was just fake. "Did you and Marko finish pranking Sam and his tadpools?" Michael said softly, a small smile on his lips. You nodded, pursing your lips. He laughed, fiddling with his earring. He leaned forward trying not to get blood on himself and gave your forehead a kiss. He moved back, leaning back down to your lips. He planted a small kiss there, smiling."Oh thank god..." You mumbled. The first time you met Michael, you had a bit of a crush on him. Then you saw Star and... Well. Michael became a bodyguard to you, always keeping you safe from the others if they got too rowdy. Seeing Star laugh made you feel weak as she would hold your hand, and whisper in your ear.

You looked over at the girl on the top of your brain as Michael walked back to help Laddie on Burger Time. Star walked up to you, giving you a sly smile. "So you just want to get this over with huh?" You inhaled sharply at the twinkle in her eye. "Well... I don't think I would mind a bit more than a kiss on the forehead." Star twirled a bit of her hair for a moment and then launched herself at you. You were about to protest, seeing as your entire body was sticky, red, and wet. But the thought flew from your mind when you felt her soft lips on yours, biting your bottom lip. This had been something you fantasized about for a long time. But in those wwt dreams, you both were Vampires and you went alot harder than a simple kiss.

You shoved your hands into her hair, pulling it as Paul did to your ponytail. Just like you, Star let out a soft gasp. You took the opportunity and let your tounge enter her mouth, poking at hers. Your tounges fighting for dominance, yours coming out on top. You felt your stomach flip when she let out a low moan, running her hands down your back to your ass. You pushed your body up against hers when she gripped you tight. Her breasts pressed against yours. Your mind was racing with thoughts. Some perverted, but most were sweet. You thought about kissing her neck, hoping to find what would drive her crazy. Or kissing her eyelids, telling her how amazing she truly is.

You felt her move away -too soon in your taste- when she heard a cough behind her. She looked back at Michael, who was standing behind Laddie. You gave him an apologetic smile, but he wasn't angry from what you saw. Star looked back at you, a smile on her lips, "Better than a kiss on the forehead?" You felt a bit smug as you winked at her, turning away before Laddie could lose his last life in the game.

Even with the last kiss, you were so confused. You looked around at everyone around you. It was the same as before, but even more drunk people. You knew what was going on at this point. It was New Years eve. They were giving you the kiss you weren't going to have tonight. But all of them? You let out a strangled noise, pulling the end of your ponytail. "Why is this so fuckin aggravating?" You muttered to yourself, getting the attention of a few people around you. They stared at your front with confusion, and then fear when their eyes traveled to your face. You forgot about all the blood around your mouth, making it look like you fed on someone. "Sorry sorry!!" You mumbled, rushing onto the beach away from the lights and people.

You let out a ton of loud whale noises that Marko himself would be proud of. You didn't need to kiss anyone tonight, that's what you told them and it just seemed like they haven't listened to you. You kicked the sand, but stilled at the sight of smoke wafting in your face. You looked over to the right where it was coming from, a lazy content smile replacing the scowl on your face. You walked up to the man laying on the sand, his left leg raised in the air with his foot flat on the ground, and his right leg crossed over. Before you could even say hello he shot up and patted the spot on his left for you to join him. "Hello David..." He hummed a response looking out at the sea. From the spot you shared with him, the noise on the boardwalk was muted.

Sitting in silence with him always made you drowsy. Something about him made you feel comfortable, no matter how many times he called you dumb as hell for it. He broke the silence with a deep intake of breath through his nose. "Why do you have human blood all over you?" You gave a small chuckle, "We pranked Sam and the Frog brothers...and it's fake blood." He looked down at you, an eyebrow raised. "Did he tell you it was fake?" You searched your mind, looking for your confirmation you needed. You came up blank, screwing your face up. "Oh jesus fucking christ! I'm soaking in it. Who the hell is this?!" You looked down at your chest, the blood drying on you. You felt your breathing speed up, all the thoughts running through your mind. It all came up short when you felt David's arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him. He leaned down to your ear, a condescending smile on his lips. "Calm down (Y/N)... Trust me." You gave a shakey sigh, still eyeing the blood. "So many people have said that to me tonight. It's getting a bit annoying." He let out a bark for a laugh leaning back, but his hand tightened on your waist.

"Speaking of blood." You looked up at him, ready to cut him off but he raised his gloved hand. "Yeah yeah, you get to pick when. I know that. But I've waited (Y/N). I've been a good boy. Just tell me that it's soon." You raised a hand to the back of your neck, looking at the sea. "Yeah... It'll be real soon. I figured you would put two and two together." You looked back at him, your eyebrow raised. He nodded, his hair waving a bit around. "So you did break up with Tommy Boy for me. I feel loved." He winked at you, causing your breath to hitch for a second. You leaned over and grabbed his right hand, pulling his glove off. You wrapped your pinky around his, looking him dead in the eye. "I'll become a vampire next year." He groaned at your lame joke but gave you a bright smile anyway. You looked down at his mouth and faltered a bit. You were too close to him to think. You knew he wouldn't jump out to kiss you like everyone else. You had to take action here. This eill be the first kiss you've started tonight. "David can I..." You paused thinking for the right words. He seemed to know what you wanted to say as he moved closer to you, waiting for you to go the rest of the way.

"How far are you willing to go (Y/N)?" He whispered, his breath ghosting over your lips. You pushed forward setting yourself on his lap, pushed your lips onto his. He pushed back though, not rolling over so easily. He gripped your hips, tearing the skin from his nails. In the background you could hear the crowd on the boardwalk cheer, noise makers going off as well. It was midnight and you were grinding the leader of The Lost Boys while he bit your bottom lip. He shoved his tounge into your mouth, but unlike with Star, you didn't fight for dominance. You gave it all to him. You heard him moan in the back of his throat, making heat build in your body. You gripped his hair and tried to pull it, but you yanked back when you heard a familiar yell of joy from Paul.

"Oh come on guys, work on your timing." You muttered as David moved from under you, causing you to fall on your back. "Ugh!" You groaned as Laddie slammed into you. "(Y/N) I WANTED TO BE YOUR NEW KISS FOR THE YEAR!" You made a playful noise as you kissed his cheeks, laughing harder while he made sounds of disgust. The rest of the group sat around you, making you and Laddie the exact center. You looked at everyone around, and in the distance you saw Sam, Edgar and Alan walking towards you all. You finally decided. It was going to be a good year.

BONUS SCENE

Laddie leaned forward, smelling your chest. "(Y/N) why are you wearing human blood?" You sat up, causing Laddie to roll off you. Marko gave you an apologetic smile while you searched for the right words. "You... I'm... I'm going to stake you." He thought for a moment and laughed, looking over to Edgar and Alan. "It's not the first time and it definitely won't be the last time someone has tried that."

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junker-town · 4 years

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Why it’s OK to get excited about the Phoenix Suns

Deandre Ayton and Devin Booker lead the new-look Suns.

Deandre Ayton and Devin Booker are finally leading the Suns out of the darkness.

Over the past five years no team has lost more games than the Phoenix Suns. They made zero playoff appearances, held zero all-stars, paid five head coaches, and, under one culturally pestilent owner, endured constant front office disruption.

They’ve been a categorical embarrassment, rudderless and dysfunctional. A sad Mountain-Time parallel for the New York Knicks, fixed in a smaller market with fewer fans. Pivoting away from that sludgy existence towards a normal NBA life can’t happen overnight, but this year’s Suns have taken enough steps towards competence to legitimize rose-colored glasses going forward. There’s an actual on-court identity being molded around an exciting young core that’s talented enough to walk along a similar path that the Denver Nuggets followed four years ago.

The last couple weeks would suggest otherwise. Phoenix is 2-5 since the NBA All-Star Game break, with humbling losses against the Detroit Pistons, Golden State Warriors, and a depleted Toronto Raptors team that was forced to play Pascal Siakam at center. Kelly Oubre — their third-leading scorer — recently tore his meniscus. After starting strong, with a 48 percent chance to make the playoffs back on Dec. 11, the Suns are once again lottery bound. Long and short-term optimism isn’t hard to find, though. This remains a rebuilding franchise, but they no longer feel hopeless. They rank 15th in net rating, a seismic jump for an organization that had a bottom-three offense and defense in each of the last two seasons. Respectability is right around the corner.

Devin Booker is 23 years old and already one of the league’s 10 most reliable offensive engines. In just his second season, Deandre Ayton looks more like a two-way franchise center every week. Last year, the Suns performed like a 21-win team with Ayton on the court. Today they’re up to 43, per Cleaning the Glass. Mikal Bridges, Cam Johnson, and Oubre are a complementary young wing trio who will alter the entire franchise’s trajectory if their three-point shooting is real. Ricky Rubio is the stabilizing connective tissue the Suns have desperately needed for years, and when he shares the floor with Ayton and Booker they have the same net rating as the Los Angeles Lakers. This is a pretty big deal.

Five of the six names listed above are under contract through at least 2022. (Oubre can be a free agent next summer.) Remove the 29-year-old Rubio from the equation and all of them are under 25. Before Oubre went down, their starting lineup was +92 in 226 minutes.

They have a lot of work to do to sustain this type of success over 82 games, but signs of progress are inarguable. Moves that were panned over the summer have propelled them in unexpected ways. The decision to trade T.J. Warren for cash was properly criticized. Warren has been sensational for the Indiana Pacers. But even if the Suns didn’t extract proper value for their asset, freeing meaningful minutes up for Bridges, Oubre, and Johnson, while giving Booker and Ayton the touches they need to stay happy has helped in ways we’ll probably never be able to quantify.

Warren’s score-first-second-and-third mentality could’ve also been awkward in Phoenix’s new quick-twitch offensive system that was shaped by Monty William’s time with the San Antonio Spurs. It asks players to shoot, pass, or drive as soon as they touch the ball (ideally within half a second). When stagnant, Williams’ voice will boom from the sideline, imploring his team to move.

It’s a contagious selflessness that forces all five players to read the same sheet of music, a tricky proposition that the Suns have made work. They lead the league in assist rate and distribute 26.81 assists per 100 possessions. In the last 10 years, only nine teams top that number; five of them are the Warriors. They don’t lean into high pick-and-rolls — for the best, since they turn it over a ton when they do — and rank 29th in isolation frequency. Only the Miami Heat average more cuts per game. Sequential plays like this help illustrate why:

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Here’s another example that ends in Bridges crashing in from the corner at the exact right time.

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In hindsight, their possessions cruise along a checklist. Ayton’s post-up leads to Booker’s cut, which momentarily drags Patrick McCaw a step into the paint and out of position, which lets Rubio beat him off the dribble, which forces Norm Powell to stop the ball and leave Dario Saric open underneath the rim.

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The philosophy has been embraced like a breath of fresh air, but wouldn’t be possible without Rubio. When he’s on the court Phoenix moves the ball like Golden State’s 73-win team.

“He’s the catalyst to it all,” Williams said. “We have a 0.5 style of basketball but Ricky’s just been so good at making other guys comfortable on the floor, giving them the ball where they can be efficient ... that stuff is really important and not many guards can do it the way Ricky does.”

His ingenuity helps the machine hum along, but even when things break down he throws passes nobody else would even think about, let alone be bold enough to try:

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Rubio raises the floor everywhere he goes. That’s a noble career path, but there’s no evidence of him being the player who can take Phoenix from good to great. Far more integral to Phoenix’s future is Ayton, who is not as good as early-Orlando Magic Shaquille O’Neal, but is putting up numbers that haven’t been seen by a 21-year-old since.

Ayton’s offensive game is a work in progress. He’s not particularly efficient out of the post and isn’t nearly as dominant around the rim as his ripped physique indicates he should be. When he’s not shooting 16 footers as if the ball was smeared with lava, every so often there are glimpses of a confident, deft, game-changing presence. Here he is challenging the best defender at his position without hesitation, changing hands on the backdown before a soft finish over his left shoulder.

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Phoenix’s offense has been league average with Ayton on the floor — which is massive considering only two teams were less efficient when he played last season — but it’s the other end where progress is even more consequential. The Suns were a tire fire last year, largely because Ayton (understandably) had no idea what he was doing. Today they’re, again, about league average. Ayton is far from perfect, but his improvements are meaningful enough to alter long-term expectations, particularly when switched onto a wing or smaller forward:

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There are positional issues and missteps when roaming on the weak side (on Tuesday, Toronto rarely attacked Ayton in a pick-and-roll, and instead turned him into a help defender who had to worry about three-point shooters), but he’s starting to make better use of his size without fouling.

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The path to a title doesn’t exist unless Ayton at least delivers a solid B on defense for 30-plus minutes every night. That didn’t seem possible six months ago. Sooner than later it will be an assumption.

Also important: his on-court relationship with Booker, who still isn’t an average defender by and large but has become a star worth building around. The fact that he and Ayton are two building blocks who play different positions and thrive in different spots on the court is a significant break. (Look at the Philadelphia 76ers: team building, even with multiple lottery picks, isn’t always clean.)

But it wouldn’t hurt if the two developed more pick-and-roll chemistry. They aren’t ineffective as is, but their synergy in that action has the potential to one day break the brain of every coach who gameplans to slow it down. Between Ayton’s room for improvement popping behind the three-point line — while providing more panic on a hard roll than any center in the league — and Booker’s craft, touch, and vision, it’s unclear how this can be stopped.

Rubio’s inability to space the floor prevents Booker and Ayton from running pick-and-rolls as frequently as they eventually will — when they do, defenses typically trap Booker and force Ayton to browse through a 4-on-3 advantage. But not capitalizing on it in a playoff series, when defenses inevitably sniff out their primary actions, would be problematic.

As natural spacers, Johnson and Bridges were particularly hand-crafted to help those two and thrive in this era; each is starting to do more than knock down open threes from the corner. Bridges will pick opposing point guards up full court, then defend their top scorer on the wing, his spindly arms a nuisance on the ball and in passing lanes.

Phoenix’s decision to use the 11th overall pick on Johnson, who turned 24 this week and might’ve been available in the second round, was met with laughter. On draft night, it was funny. But he’s already making 40 percent of his 4.5 catch-and-shoot threes per game. In actual game he’s a functional contributor who’s attacking closeouts and using his gravity in smart ways.

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Fully developed, this core can be a cut-glass chandelier, brimming with enough talent to someday resemble a plucky contender. Of course, none of that’s possible without tangible progress, which requires patience, time, and luck. Assuming the momentum gathered this year carries over, and Phoenix is able to dangle Booker, Ayton, and their considerate playing style to prospective free agents we might be looking at a lurking giant.

This summer they may want to add pieces that aren’t on their two franchise players’ timeline, players who can help sustain their momentum and foster development without stunting anybody’s growth If acquired at a reasonable price, best-case scenario signings at power forward could be Paul Millsap, Danilo Gallinari, or Serge Ibaka. Maybe they kick the tires on Kevin Love or Al Horford. Retaining Dario Saric is always an option, but his instinctual passing has yet to overcome the downside on defense. Elsewhere, Marvin Williams, JaMychal Green, and Jae Crowder may be available.

If they instead prioritize a backup point guard: Goran Dragic or D.J. Augustin could work. Kris Dunn would be a fascinating addition. And if they preserve cap space, Phoenix should be able to afford a max player in 2021. Cracking the playoffs next season would make them a sneaky-legitimate free agent suitor the following summer. If their lottery pick in this year’s draft is able to contribute right away, all the better.

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readincolour · 7 years

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New Books Coming Your Way, September 12, 2017

The Twelve-Mile Straight by Eleanor Henderson 560 p.; Fiction Cotton County, Georgia, 1930: in a house full of secrets, two babies-one light-skinned, the other dark-are born to Elma Jesup, a white sharecropper’s daughter. Accused of her rape, field hand Genus Jackson is lynched and dragged behind a truck down the Twelve-Mile Straight, the road to the nearby town. In the aftermath, the farm’s inhabitants are forced to contend with their complicity in a series of events that left a man dead and a family irrevocably fractured. Despite the prying eyes and curious whispers of the townspeople, Elma begins to raise her babies as best as she can, under the roof of her mercurial father, Juke, and with the help of Nan, the young black housekeeper who is as close to Elma as a sister. But soon it becomes clear that the ties that bind all of them together are more intricate than any could have ever imagined. As startling revelations mount, a web of lies begins to collapse around the family, destabilizing their precarious world and forcing all to reckon with the painful truth. Bluebird, Bluebird by Attica Locke 320 p.; Mystery When it comes to law and order, East Texas plays by its own rules--a fact that Darren Mathews, a black Texas Ranger, knows all too well. Deeply ambivalent about growing up black in the lone star state, he was the first in his family to get as far away from Texas as he could. Until duty called him home. When his allegiance to his roots puts his job in jeopardy, he travels up Highway 59 to the small town of Lark, where two murders--a black lawyer from Chicago and a local white woman--have stirred up a hornet's nest of resentment. Darren must solve the crimes--and save himself in the process--before Lark's long-simmering racial fault lines erupt. A rural noir suffused with the unique music, color, and nuance of East Texas, Bluebird, Bluebird is an exhilarating, timely novel about the collision of race and justice in America. Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng 352 p.; Fiction In Shaker Heights, a placid, progressive suburb of Cleveland, everything is meticulously planned—from the layout of the winding roads, to the colors of the houses, to the successful lives its residents will go on to lead. And no one embodies this spirit more than Elena Richardson, whose guiding principal is playing by the rules. Enter Mia Warren- an enigmatic artist and single mother- who arrives in this idyllic bubble with her teenaged daughter Pearl, and rents a house from the Richardsons. Soon Mia and Pearl become more than tenants: all four Richardson children are drawn to the alluring mother-daughter pair. But Mia carries with her a mysterious past, and a disregard for the rules that threatens to upend this carefully ordered community. When the Richardsons’ friends attempt to adopt a Chinese-American baby, a custody battle erupts that dramatically divides the town and puts Mia and Mrs. Richardson on opposing sides. Suspicious of Mia and her motives, Mrs. Richardson becomes determined to uncover the secrets in Mia’s past. But her obsession will come at unexpected and devastating costs to her own family—and Mia’s. A Beautiful Ghetto by Devin Allen 128 p.; Photography On April 18, 2015, the city of Baltimore erupted in mass protests in response to the brutal murder of Freddie Gray by police. Devin Allen was there, and his iconic photos of the Baltimore uprising became a viral sensation. In these stunning photographs, Allen documents the uprising as he strives to capture the life of his city and the people who live there. Each photo reveals the personality, beauty, and spirit of Baltimore and its people, as his camera complicates popular ideas about the "ghetto." Allen's camera finds hope and beauty doing battle against a system that sows desperation and fear, and above all, resistance, to the unrelenting pressures of racism and poverty in a twenty-first-century American city. Electric Arches by Eve L. Ewing 120 p.; Literary collection Electric Arches is an imaginative exploration of Black girlhood and womanhood through poetry, visual art, and narrative prose. Blending stark realism with the surreal and fantastic, Eve L. Ewing’s narrative takes us from the streets of 1990s Chicago to an unspecified future, deftly navigating the boundaries of space, time, and reality. Ewing imagines familiar figures in magical circumstances—blues legend Koko Taylor is a tall-tale hero; LeBron James travels through time and encounters his teenage self. She identifies everyday objects—hair moisturizer, a spiral notebook—as precious icons. Her visual art is spare, playful, and poignant—a cereal box decoder ring that allows the wearer to understand what Black girls are saying; a teacher’s angry, subversive message scrawled on the chalkboard. Electric Arches invites fresh conversations about race, gender, the city, identity, and the joy and pain of growing up. To Funk and Die in L.A. by Nelson George 224 p.; Mystery To Funk and Die in LA, the fourth book in the D Hunter crime-fiction series, brings the ex-bodyguard to the City of Angels on a very dark mission when his grandfather, businessman Daniel "Big Danny" Hunter, is shot dead in a drive-by. Why would someone execute a grocery store owner? D soon finds there was more to Big Danny's life than selling loaves of bread. The old man, it turns out, was deeply involved with Dr. Funk, a legendary musical innovator who has become a mysterious recluse. Most of the novel takes place in the LA neighborhoods of Crenshaw, Koreatown, and Pico-Union--areas where black, Asian, and Latino cultures intersect away from the glamour of Hollywood--and echoes of the 1992 riots play a significant role in D's investigation. In the tradition of Raymond Chandler and Walter Mosley, D Hunter rides through the mean streets of Los Angeles seeking truth and not always finding justice. The Lazarus Effect by H.J. Golakai 358 p.; Mystery Voinjama Johnson is a woman on the brink of a dark, downward spiral. Suffering from misfortunes past and present, all Vee has is her work as an investigative journalist to hang on to. Now her career, like her sanity, is under fire. A revenant haunts Vee’s steps – during her blackouts, the ghost of a strange teenage girl in a red woollen hat keeps reaching out to her. Desperate for answers, she and her new assistant Chlöe Bishop plunge into the disappearance of seventeen-year-old Jacqueline Paulsen. As Vee and Chlöe enter the maze of a case full of dead ends, the life of their intrepid missing girl reveals a family at odds – a dead half-brother, an ambitious father running from his past and the two women he has loved and ruined, a clutch of siblings with lies in their midst. How could a young girl leave home to play tennis one bright Saturday and never be seen again, and what do the dysfunctional circle of people she knew have to hide? Every thread Vee pulls in Jacqueline’s tight weave of intrigue brings her closer to redemption and an unravelling more dangerous than she bargained for. In compelling and witty prose, The Lazarus Effect is an evocative tale of the underbelly and otherworld of love, murder and madness in a Cape Town that visitors seldom see. Sky Country by Christine Kitano 104 p.; Poetry Christine Kitano's second poetry collection elicits a sense of hunger—an intense longing for home and an ache for human connection. Channeling both real and imagined immigration experiences of her own family—her grandmothers, who fled Korea and Japan; and her father, a Japanese American who was incarcerated during WWII—Kitano's ambitious poetry speaks for those who have been historically silenced and displaced. September 08, 2017 at 11:00AM from ReadInColour.com http://ift.tt/2fa6dYw

#Books #ReadInColour #WeNeedDiverseBooks A Beautiful Ghetto #Attica Locke #Bluebird Bluebird #Cele

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queen-of-deans-booty · 7 years

Text

Dead in the Water- Part 1

Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,692

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, minor character death, blood, you know the usual

Summary: Still searching for the father that raised you, this time, a hunt takes you to Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. You investigate mysterious drownings and hope to prevent any more drownings.

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Please, if you want to be tagged for this series, let me know and I’ll add you! If you want to be tagged for my other fics, I’ll add you! I want to hear what you guys think about this.

Read the backstory for this episode here. You don’t have to read it first but it is highly encouraged.

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom

With how hunts were going, you hoped that the hunt Dean found was going to be a lot easier than the last one. You still couldn’t believe Dean would just throw himself in the line of fire like he did. You wanted to go with him to defend him and be with him but no, he had to do that alone.

You were just glad he was alright. You were ready to kick some serious ass if he didn’t make it out of the cave. You really shouldn’t be thinking this hard about it because at the end of the day, he was just doing his job.

But what Sam said about you liking Dean, now that was true but you would never admit it. The beautiful man was a ladies’ man and he liked to hook up. You, not so much. You wanted a relationship and Dean didn’t want that. So, keeping your distance would be best for you.

However, Dean was staring at the paper in front of him with a blank look, ignoring you a bit.

“Dean, are we going to discuss this or not?” You looked at the eldest Winchester with a frown. Sam was in the bathroom and you were getting irritated.

A waitress, by the name of Wendy, passed by your table, stopping in front of Dean. She was super skinny, blonde hair, and flirty eyes that won’t quit.

“Can I get you anything else?” She leaned down, showing off a bit of cleavage. You rolled your eyes at this. It was like she chose to ignore you and only pay attention to Dean. You mean, could you blame her? Dean was attractive as hell. Dean looked up at the foreign voice and smirked, the pen he was using, still in his mouth.

“No, thank you, just the check, please.” You rolled your eyes.

“Okay.” She gave you a side glare as she walked away, putting a little sway in her hips.

“You know, Y/N, we are allowed to have fun once in a while and that,” he pointed to the descending Wendy. “Is fun.”

“Really? With her? She seemed kind of like a slut.” You bit your lip and looked away, wishing Sam would come back.

“Ooo, is someone jealous?” Dean chuckled, noticing your tone.

“Me? Jealous of her? I don’t think so. I bet she hops on any kind of dick she sees; no offense,” You let out a breath of relief when you saw Sam walk over to your table. “We got a case.”

Dean looked at you and he was thinking all sorts of things. He looked at his brother and nodded.

“Yeah, listen to this: A woman named Sophie Carlton walks into Lake Manitoc in Wisconsin but doesn’t walk back out. Authorities searched everywhere but they didn’t find anything. Sophie is the third person to drown in this lake this year alone. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral for her two days ago.” Dean explained.

“A funeral?” Sam asked, confused, sitting at the table.

“Yeah, it’s weird, they buried and empty coffin for, uh, closure or some shit.” Dean shook his head.

“Closure? What closure? People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them.” Sam looked at you quickly but looked back to Dean. The conversation you had with Sam on the last hunt was ringing in your ears. He was just upset that Jessica was gone and you couldn’t blame him but that gave him no reason to take it out on you or his brother.

“Something you want to say to me?” Dean asked, raising and eyebrow.

“The trail for Dad, it’s getting colder every day.” Sam sighed.

“Exactly, so what are we supposed to do?” Dean started getting fed up.

“I don’t know, anything, something.” Sam shrugged.

“You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?” Dean glared at his brother.

“Yeah, I know you do,” Sam started to say.

“Y/N and I are the ones that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're going to kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?” Dean scoffed. Wendy walked by again and Dean lost focus for a minute, looking at her ass as she passed.

“Hey,” you swatted Dean’s shoulder to get him to look at you. “You got an address or something?” You looked at him. He nodded and you stood up, placing some money on the table.

“Good, let’s go.” Sam said, doing the exact same thing. Dean got up and led you and Sam to the door but caught Wendy’s eye. He smirked and winked at her before you pushed him closer to the door.

“Keep it in your pants.” You rolled your eyes.

“Buzzkill.” Dean copied your action. He got to his beloved car and got in, along with you and Sam and in no time, you were speeding down the road to Sophie’s family’s house.

“Here, Dean.” You handed him a badge and Sam a badge from the box in the backseat. It was a badge for the US Wildlife Service. You got out of the car, looking at the small cabin. It looked homey if someone didn’t just die. You walked to the front door, knocking on it. A man, presumably Sophie’s brother, opened the door.

“Will Carlton?” Dean asked, standing next to you.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Will nodded.

“I’m Agent Ford, this is Agent Hamill and that’s Agent Winston. We’re with the US Wildlife Service.” Dean held up a badge, pointing to you and Sam respectively. You showed your badge with a tight smile. You really needed to make this more official looking but technology didn’t want to cooperate with you.

Will nodded and he grabbed his jacket, pulling it on, walking outside.

“Come with me, my dad is out there.” He led you, Sam and Dean to the dock where you saw Bill Carlton, sitting on the bench there.

“Why don’t you tell us what happened to your sister.” Dean asked, looking around.

“She was about a hundred yards out. That’s where she got dragged down.” Wil stated.

“You’re sure she just didn’t drown?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, she was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub.” Will shoved his hands in his pockets.

“So no splashing or signs of distress?” Sam asked.

“No, that’s what I’m telling you.” Will was starting to get a bit aggravated and you could tell. You nodded and looked at him.

“I believe you, Will, we all do. Just tell me, did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?” You asked gently.

“No, again she was really far out there.”

“You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?” Dean wondered.

“No, never, why? What do you think’s out there?” Will was curious and sometimes, that was a bad thing.

“We’ll let you know as soon as we do,” You smiled. You watched as Dean headed back to his car but you needed to know something. “What about your dad? Can we talk to him?”

“Look, if you don't mind, I mean... he didn't see anything and he's kind of been through a lot.” Will looked uncomfortable but you understood.

“Of course, I understand.” You touched his shoulder as to comfort him and walked away with Sam.

“I think we should try the Sheriff’s station. They would have records of it there.” Sam suggested, getting into the car.

“Worth a shot.” You shrugged, getting in behind him. Dean started the car and made a U-turn, leaving the property of Bill Carlton and going over to the local police station. When you got there, it was dead inside and outside and you were grateful of that. You liked it when there was less people. It lessened the risk of eavesdropping.

You walked inside and looked around, not seeing a person by the front desk to help you.

“Sheriff?” You called out. You bit your lip, something you also did when you were nervous.

“Yeah?” An older looking gentleman came out of an office and looked at you, Sam and Dean.

“We’re with the US Wildlife Service and we have a few questions about Sophie Carlton’s drowning.” You held up your badge and smiled. You’ve been doing this a long time to lie well.

“I'm sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?” Sheriff Jake Devins opened the mini door to let you through, assuming he was going to go back to his office.

“You sure it’s accidental? Will Carlton saw something grab his sister.” Sam said.

“Like what?” Devins asked, confused. He walked back into his office and pointed to the chairs by his desk. “Here, sit, please. There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake. There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness Monster.” Dean snickered at that and you nudged his shoulder, shaking your head at him. Laughing was not appropriate right now.

“Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still,” Devins sat behind his desk and sighed. “We searched that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there.”

“That’s strange, honestly. That’s the third missing body this year.” You said.

“You think I don’t know that? These people are from my town; people I care about. Anyway, all this, won’t be a problem much longer.”

“Why’s that?” Sam asked, leaning a bit closer.

“Well the dam, of course. It's falling apart, and the feds won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that.” Jake was about to say more when a woman knocked on the door, silencing him.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” This woman was really young, black hair, brown eyes and really skinny. She was beautiful but of course, you knew Dean would immediately jump at the chance to “get to know her” and you couldn’t let that happen. “I can come back later.”

“Gentleman, ma’am, this is my daughter.” You walked in front of Dean before he had a chance to do anything and shook her hand.

“Andrea Barr, nice to meet you.” You smiled politely, letting go of her hand. You looked down when you saw a boy with a full head of dirty blonde hair.

“Who’s this?” You looked at the boy but he didn’t say a word. The little boy looked fearful; eyes wide and biting his lip. You frowned, tilting your head. The boy walked away, out of the sheriff’s office.

“That’s Lucas, my grandson.” Jake said from behind you. Andrea followed her son, giving him some crayons and pieces of paper to doodle on while she was going to talk to Sam and Dean.

“He’s been through a lot, we all have.” Andrea sighed, looking at him draw. You walked away from the group and got down on your knees, to his height.

“Hi, Lucas, my name is Y/N.” You said, not expecting an answer out of him. You didn’t get one and you sighed, standing up. You knew he was special but you couldn’t place your finger on it. You looked at what he was drawing but didn’t know what it was.

“Well, if there is anything I can do for you, please, let me know.” Andrea said to Dean.

“Thanks. You know, now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?” Dean asked.

“Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner and it's about two blocks south.” Andrea said before her dad could answer.

“Two—would you mind showing us?” Dean asked, acting confused.

“Oh, give me a break,” You muttered to yourself. Apparently, Sam heard because he smiled, letting out a soft chuckle.

“You want me to walk you two blocks?” Andrea tilted her head to the side.

“No, it’s fine, I got it. Thank you, Andrea.” You put your hands on Dean’s wide shoulders and pushed him to the door.

“Thank you for your time.” Sam said, following you and Dean out.

“Why do you have to do this to me?” Dean complained, walking in the direction that Andrea said. You walked besides Dean and shook your head.

“You know we have a case to do and all you can think about is getting into someone’s pants. First the waitress and now her? Dean, she’s been through a lot and I don’t think hitting on her is going to help.” You walked ahead of the boys, biting your already nubby nail.

“What’s her problem?” Dean looked at his brother. Sam obviously knew what was wrong but he shrugged, pretending like he didn’t. You ended up getting one motel room because it was cheaper and it wasn’t like you were staying there long. You would take the couch and Dean and Sam could have the beds.

No way were you going to share a bed with Sam. He was way too big and snored very loudly. There was no way you would sleep with Dean because you wouldn’t be sleeping, knowing that Dean was right next to you.

Right when you walked into the room, Sam sat down at the table and fumbled with his laptop, looking further into the case. You sat down at one of the beds, shedding your jacket off. It was silent in the room for 5 minutes when Sam spoke.

“So there’s the three drownings this year…” Sam thought out loud.

“Yeah? Any more before that?” Dean asked, going through his duffel bag.

“Uh, yeah, actually. Six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace.” Sam put a hand on his jaw and stared at the computer screen intently.

“So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?” Dean commented.

“This whole lake monster theory, it, it just bugs me.” Sam shook his head, sounding a bit uneasy.

“Why? What’s in that big brain of yours?” You got up, going over to Sam and looking at the screen.

“Loch Ness, uh, Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, almost nothing. Whatever it is out there, no one's living to talk about it.” Sam said, frustrated. You would be frustrated as well if you knew something was going on but you couldn’t place your finger on it. Sam was scrolling through the article online when a name caught your attention.

“Wait, Barr, Christopher Barr. Isn’t that the last name of Andrea and Lucas?” You scrunched your eyebrows together.

“Yeah, Christopher Barr was the victim in May,” Sam scrolled down even further and his mouth dropped to a little ‘o’ shape. “Oh, Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father. Apparently, he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned two hours before the kid got rescued.”

“Maybe there is an eye witness after all,” Dean said. “No wonder that kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over.” You frowned at Dean’s words, flashes of your childhood coming back to you.

“No, you don’t.” You whispered. You frowned and sat on the bed, looking at the carpet.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry. I should have thought before I spoke.” Dean apologized.

“No, it’s okay, it was a long time ago. I barely remember it.” You lied, a little distracted. You had to stop being such a baby. You had a job to do and being distracted was a risk; a risk you couldn’t afford.

“Y/N?” Sam cautiously said.

“We should go find Andrea and Lucas. I think I overheard them saying they would be going to the playground at her dad’s office.” You got up, grabbing your jacket and heading outside. You couldn’t think about your mom right now. Not long after, Dean and Sam were behind you, ready to follow your instructions.

You got to the park not long after that and your eyes fell on Andrea who was sitting on one of the benches. You looked at the boys and walked to her.

“Mind if we join you?” Sam asked, startling her. She looked back and smiled when she saw it was only you and the brothers.

“I’m with my son.” She scooted over to make room for Dean and Sam. You, on the other hand wanted to speak with Lucas. You could relate more to him than Dean or Sam ever could.

“Mind if I say hi?” When she gave you her approval, you headed over to Lucas and sat at the table he was sitting. You looked at the drawings that he was making and two caught your attention. One was a black swirl and the other was of a red bicycle. Why would a little boy draw those? You smiled when you saw green toy soldiers and that reminded you of the time when you and Sam secretly shoved toy soldiers in the Impala.

“Hey, these are pretty good. You mind if I sit and draw with you for a while?” you asked Lucas gently. He didn’t look up and didn’t say a word but you picked up a crayon anyways and started to draw on a blank sheet of paper.

“You know, I'm thinking you can hear me, you just don't want to talk. I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel. When I was about your age, I saw something.

“Anyway, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh, believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake.” You sighed when he didn’t say a word.

“Alright, well nice talking to you, Lucas.” You got up, dusting off yourself and rejoining the boys and Andrea.

“Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident.” You heard Andrea say when you got to her.

“I tried but I got nothing.” Your shoulder sagged a bit.

“What are the doctors saying?” Sam looked at Andrea.

“That’s it’s a kind of post-traumatic stress. We moved in with my dad. He helps a lot. It's just... when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw...” Andrea trailed off.

“Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with.” You looked at Dean and Sam who caught your eyes. You’ve been through hell and you know that Dean and Sam have too. Granted, Sam was just a baby when his mom died but the things he went through with his dad. It wasn’t easy.

“You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men,” Andrea stopped talking when she saw her son walk over to them. “Hey, sweetie.” He walked right up to you and handed you a picture. You smiled and looked at it, noticing Lucas walked off again.

“Thank, Lucas!” You said after him. No response came from him. This was something you could work with. You knew you were getting somewhere with him.

“You doing okay?” Dean asked you, the next day, in the motel room.

“Yeah, why?” You looked over at him, seeing him fumble with his fingers.

“It’s just what happened with your mom…” He trailed off.

“Dean, I said I’m fine. I don’t remember it.” You lied.

“Do you remember what you told me, growing up? When I would get angry or sad about my mom?” Dean asked you, scooting closer to you.

“Don’t bottle it up.” You whispered. It was true, it was unhealthy to do that to yourself. All that pent-up energy must go somewhere and if you’re not getting it out, it’ll build and build until you can’t take it anymore. Just like water boiling in a kettle.

“Exactly. Just remember that, okay?” You two were interrupted by Sam walking inside the room.

“So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie.”

“What do you mean?” Dean moved away from you but you missed his warmth. That man was like a space heater.

“I just drove past the Carlton house and there was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead.” Your mouth opened a bit and you let out a sigh. This hunt was getting more confusing by the minute.

“He drowned?” Dean assumed.

“Yeah, in the sink.”

“What the hell? So, you're right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else.” Dean confirmed everyone’s thoughts.

“Yeah, but what? Where do we ever start looking?” You asked.

“I don't know. Water wraith, maybe? Demon? I mean, something that controls water,” Dean’s head perked up as if he figured the problem out. “Water that comes from the same source.”

“The lake.” You and Sam said at the same time.

“Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining; it'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time.”

“If it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere.” Dean added.

“This has to do with Bill Carlton since it took both of his children,” You bit your lip. “Wait, I remember reading something in that article the other day. Lucas’ dad, Chris, is Bill Carlton’s godson.” You looked at Dean who stood up and grabbed his keys.

“Let’s pay Mr. Carlton a visit.”

Masterlist // Series Rewrite Masterlist

Series Rewrite tags:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19

Forever tags:

@shorter-than-sammy @maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke

Dean tags:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester

Other tags:

@jensen-jarpad @jpadjackles @notnaturalanahi @mysteriouslyme81 @deathtonormalcy56 @27bmm

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