#exact same thing happened except HE flew out the back emergency window

[probablygayattorneys]

Since Miracle Mask kept emphasizing that Randall died and the Professor blamed himself but shouldn’t, but didn’t bother telling me what exactly happened until like twenty hours in, my brain just replaced it with this.

#professor Layton #professor layton the miracle mask #mm spoilers #pl5 spoilers #Hershel layton #Angela ledore #Seth meyers #it was just #it was so sad when Randall flew out the back emergency door of the Laytonmobile into that freezing cold water #still holding the mask #and then the poor professor #he never learns his lesson and the same thing happened to Claire #and then even after he left and Alfrendi inherited the Laytonmobile #exact same thing happened except HE flew out the back emergency window #and it was so upsetting he had to create an entire second Alfendi to deal with it #those poor Laytons #they are not the exception #they never learn their lesson #queue takumi defense squad

[d-hasselhoff]

That’s Not My Cass 1/?

Castiel x reader

Warnings: Power Hungry God Cass, some swears I think, mentions of heaven&hell + god and angels, by the way I literally hit the max number of text blocks so this’ll be a multiple part thing

Y/n stood next to Bobby and Dean, trying not to let Cass know she was scared of who he’d become. This new Cass, the power hungry god, terrified her. But she couldn’t tell him. Cass’ hand touched Sam’s forehead and Y/n knew what had happened. Castiel took down the wall.

As Cass mumbled about the power he would now hold, Y/n was able to sneak behind him. She closed her eyes for a moment, the Cass she used to know, used to love, flashed in her mind. It hurt her to realize she had to do this, she had to do it for Sam, but she knew it wasn’t really her Cass. so, she raised her arms, the angel blade striking down into Cass’ back. She squeezed her eyes shut, slowly opening them when the bright light that was supposed to emerge from his body never came.

A deep, rumbling laugh emerged from Cass’ chest. “You really think an angel blade will work on me anymore? I’m a god, Y/n a mere angel blade will do me no harm. You can’t kill a god.”

Her eyes widened and she stepped back as he turned to her, pulling the blade from his chest. “You foolish, foolish girl. I hope for your sake I never see you again.” The blade dropped as he flew away, the brief whoosh of his wings left behind.

She collapsed, her knees digging into the cement floor. Sam rushed over, picking her up off the ground, aiding her in standing up, allowing them to walk out of the building and to the vehicles. 

“I’m sorry Y/n/n. I didn’t think this would happen. It didn’t seem like Cass could get this way.” Sam gave her a sympathetic smile as they sat cleaning each other’s wounds.

“I don’t know who that was, but that was not my Cass.” She murmured, carefully pulling the thread tight on his chest, cinching the wound.

“I know. Turn your head for me? I can’t quite get to the gash in your hairline.” The gash covered the exact spot Cass used to kiss on her head before they left each other, easily helping her anxiety before cases.

As the four of them, Dean, Sam, Y/n, and Bobby stood in front of the water reserve they watched, perplexed, as Cass pushed himself into the water, a whirlpool taking him under. The only thing left of him was his beloved trench coat.

Y/n picked up the coat, folding it gently and carrying it out.

“He’s really gone, huh?” Bobby asked, more to himself than anyone else.

“I guess so. Rest in peace, if that’s even an option.” Dean replied, opening the door to his impala.

Lucifer had taken over Sam. He hadn’t slept in days, Lucifer constantly nagging at him, not letting him sleep even a wink. Y/n felt horrible for the man, especially when she was able to sleep soundly. Of course, she would never sleep the same, not without Cass next to her. But at least she was able to sleep some. Poor sam.

Now, as Dean and Y/n stood in the office of Dr. Kandinsky waiting to see Sam after his accident, the two were made aware of the efforts put in by the doctors to help Sam’s “issues”.

“Relatives of Sam Smith?” Dr. Kadinsky asked as the two of them stood impatiently, waiting on the whereabouts of their brother.

“Yeah. Where is he?” Dean asked, flailing his arms.

“You have to calm down,” she turned her attention to dean before facing the doctor again. “Sorry, he gets a bit temperamental.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “Can we see him? He’s recovering from the accident, right?”

“So you’re aware of his car accident.” The doctor mentioned.

“Yeah, is he alright?”

“Sam was admitted. He was treated for a busted rib and minor wounds.” Dr. Kadinsky explained.

“Alright, we’ve seen worse. And?” Dean’s exasperation flooded the room.

“And… he’s locked on our psychiatric floor.”

Dean scoffed. “He’s had trouble before, but nothing major, why now?” Y/n asked.

“So you’re aware Sam’s experiencing a full blown psychotic episode?

“Psychotic?” Y/n raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, it’s not like he’s freakin Norman Bates!” Dean shouted, causing Y/n to pull on his shoulder, calming him down slightly.

“I’m sure he isn’t. But, we need to determine whether the episode is brought on by insomnia or whether the insomnia is a symptom of his condition.” The doctor explained. “So we can figure out how to treat him.”

“The uh, the sleeping issue is new.” Y/n told him.

The doctor pulled in a large breath. “Well, we’ve pumped him full of sedatives as much as we safely can, but he won’t go under.” This caught their attention. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

The doctor led them through the psychiatric ward, leading them to Sam’s room. “Hey, how are you feeling?” Y/n asked, knocking on the door lightly.

Sam seemed to pick himself up when he saw the two of them. “I think you should cancel my ufc fight.” He snickered, patting the spot next to him for his sister.

Dean and Y/n looked at each other, communicating without speaking. This was worse than they thought.

“We’re gonna get you help Sammy.” Dean smiled, patting his leg lightly.

Sam scoffed lightly.

“I don’t think that’s out there, Dean.”

“We don’t know that.” Y/n protested.

“As good as anyone.”

“Last faith healer we hooked up with had a reaper on a leash, remember?” Sam looked up at the two of them, eyes droopy. It was clear he hadn’t slept in days. “I’m just saying”

“What that you don’t want our help?” Dean asked.

“No, don’t waste your time on me.”

“If- If we don’t find help-“

“I’m gonna die. I know. Cass warned us about this, putting my soul back.”

“Screw cass!” Dean shouted.

“It’s really hard to keep the motivation to help you when you accept this so quickly Sammy.” Y/n smiled lightly at him, trying to make him understand.

“I know. I’m just exhausted. Death sounds good right about now.” Sam pleaded. “This is what happens when you throw a soul in Lucifers dog bowl.” Sam laughed pathetically. “There’s not just a cure out there.”

Dean stomped out of the room. Y/n shook her head lightly, lightly grabbing Sam’s head with both her hands and kissing his hair.

“Hey, we’re going to help you.” She gave him one last smile and followed Dean out the door.

Now, as Dean sat on the couch of Bobby’s old place, calling you every number he could think of to help him, Y/n stood opposite of him, researching anything that could help them.

Dean abruptly stood up, mumbling to the fridge to grab a beer. Bobby’s book whooshed off the table. “What the hell?” He turned his attention to his sister.

“What? I didn’t do that,” she motioned to Bobby’s book on the ground. “I assumed you threw it on the ground when you got frustrated.”

“No I didn’t- what is that?” He furrowed his brows as he picked up the card, flipping it around to “call 605-555-0102” written on the back.

So, Dean picked up the phone and called the number. “Hi, uh, my name’s Dean, a friend of Bobby Singers. I, uh, was looking for some info and a card with your number popped up. If you could call me back, thanks.”

“Well, let’s hope, huh?” Y/n asked, standing up from the table and wrapping her arms around her ‘brother’. He closed his eyes and let his head drop into her neck.

“Yeah.” He mumbled. They might not be blood but they were the closest thing to two had to family right now.

They sat at the small table, looking at whatever when Dean’s phone rang. “This is Dean.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raised. “Mackey. Calling you back. Real sorry to hear about Bobby.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“What you called about, I might have something for you.” Dean put the phone on speaker. “There’s this guy, goes by Emanuel. Kinda roams. First started hearing about him a couple months back. He healed the sick, cured the crazy. Naturally, I think something ain’t right. So, I went looking. Easiest way to get to him is through his wife, Daphne out in Colorado. So, I go. Told her I was going blind. Wasn’t a lie, my right eyes burnt out. She tells me, “go home. He’ll come.” So, I went. I set every trap, every test in the book.”

“That’s what we would have done.” Dean mentions.

“Shows up, passes every one. There ain’t nothing weird about this guy. Except… he’s the real deal.”

“What do you mean?”

“He touched me, my eye was fixed.” Mackey explained.

“I don’t believe in much that don’t suck your blood, but I wouldn’t call you on maybe.”

So, the two left for this so called “Emanuel”.

Dean knocked on the door as they approached, the door opening to a middle aged looking man.

“Hi, this is Daphne Allen’s house? We’re looking for Emanuel.” Y/n asked

“Well, you found him. Daphne’s resting if you don’t mind.” He led the two farther back on the porch.

“Yeah, Sure.”

“Um, so, we were hoping-“ Dean was cut off by Y/n lightly hitting his back. She motioned lightly toward the window where Dean caught a glimpse of supposedly Daphne tied up to a chair and gagged. The two made eye contact and he looked back at “Emanuel”, only to be greeted with a demon. The demon grabbed Dean, throwing him against the glass.

“I’d be careful, don’t you know your boss has out a hands off memo?”

“Please, what have you done to help him lately? Roman’s head on a plate? Whatever Emmanuel is, Crowley’s gonna want him. A lot more than he wants you lately. So-“ The demon was cut off by an angel blade stabbing into back. He had forgotten Y/n was with, giving her the opportunity to grab him before any real damage was done. He screamed as the electricity sparked through his body.

Dean pushed the body down the steps, landing at a man’s feet. He nudged Y/n, and she turned around, mouth dropping open. Cass was back? And in a sweater? The two made eye contact, but it didn’t feel right. “What was that?” The gruff voice she had grown to love sent shocks through her system. She thought she’d never hear it again.

“That’s not cass.” She whimpered lightly, head falling onto Dean’s shoulder.

“Did that creature hurt you?” He asked his wife as he untied her.

“I’m okay.” She murmured, sucking in a deep breath as she was freed. “But Emanuel, they were looking for you.”

“It’s okay.” He comforted as he held her. She caressed his face and Y/n bit her cheek. Emanuel seemed to notice the confusion and lead his wife over to the two, introducing them.

“I’m Emanuel.” He held his hand out to the both of them.

Dean hesitated momentarily. “Dean. I’m Dean. And this is my sister, Y/n.”

“Thank you for protecting my wife.” Y/n blinked.

“Your wife. Right.” Dean nodded, casting his glance to a frozen Y/n at his side.

“I saw his face.” Emanuel turned to his wife. “His real face.” He turned back to the two.

“He was a demon.” Dean explained.

Emanuel glanced at the ground. “A demon walked the earth.” He seemed astonished.

“Demons. Whackloads of them. You don’t know about…” Dean stopped. He must have been sheltered for some reason.

“You saw the demon’s true face.” She turned toward dean and Y/n again. “Emanuel has very special gifts.”

“So we’ve heard.” Y/n spoke. “You can heal people.” Her stare seemed to bore into Emanuel’s.

“I seem to be able to help to a certain degree.” She knew it wasn’t really Cass, but god did it feel like it. “What’s your issue?”

“Our brother.” Dean explained.

The three of them sat in the impala, the tension seemed unbearable. “So, Daphne. Is that uh, is that your wife?” Dean asked, looking over to Emanuel who sat rigid in the front seat.

He nodded. “She found me, and took care of me.”

“Meaning?”

“It’s a strange story, you may not like it.” Emanuel mentioned.

“Believe me, I will.”

“Well, a few months ago she was hiking by the river, when I wandered into her path. Confused, drenched, and unclothed. I had no memory. She said god wanted her to find me.” Dean and y/n made brief eye contact. Something was up.

“Who named You Emanuel?” Dean asked.

“Bouncybabynames.com.”

The two of them nodded confused. “Well, its working for ya.”

“It must be weird not knowing who you are.” Y/n mentioned.

“Well, its my life. And it’s a good life.”

“Yeah, well what if you were some kind of, I don’t know, bad guy?” Dean brought up.

“Oh, I, don’t feel like a bad person.” Y/n nodded, leaning back against the seat.

This was going to be a long car ride.

“So, your brother…”

“Sam.”

“Sam. What’s his diagnosis?” Emanuel asked.

“Well, it’s not exactly medical.” Dean explained.

“That should be fine. I can cure illness of the spiritual.”

“Spiritual.” Dean scoffed lightly. “Well, someone did this to him.”

“You’re angry.” Emanuel observed.

“Well yeah, dude broke my brother’s head.”

“He betrayed you, this, dude. He was your friend?” Emanuel asked.

“Yeah well he’s gone.” Dean sighed.

“Did you kill him? I sense that you kill a lot of people.”

“No, I uh, I don’t know that he’s actually gone. I just know that this… whole thing couldn’t be messier. I used to be able to just shake this stuff off. You know, whatever it was. It might take me some time, but I always could.” Dean sighed. “What Cass did I just can’t. I don’t know why.”

“Well it doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does!”

“No it doesn’t. You’re not a machine, Dean.” Dean shook his head lightly. “You’re friend’s name was Cass? That’s an odd name.” Y/n scoffed lightly from behind the driver’s side.

The impala pulled into a convenience store and Dean jumped out. “Oh, hey, just uh, sit tight, alright? And you stay with him?” Emanuel and Y/n nodded and the two walked into the store.

Dean felt a presence behind him. He turned around, about to attack, when the demon threw him into the beer fridge. He stood up, shoving the knife deep into the demon’s abdomen, sending the electricity spiraling. He pulled it out and turned around to two more.

He swung with the knife, missing and being hurtled to the ground, his knife blown out of his grasp.

He sighed, pushing himself up to fight when suddenly the one was stabbed, and the other began seizing, releasing the demon.

“Emanuel, you son of a bitch.” He looked up and was met with Meg.

“Emanuel? Yeah, not so much.” Meg smirked, pulling him up.

“Dean, Dean, Dean. You got some ‘splaining to do. Imagine my surprise when I track this Emanuel down, cozied up with you two? And he just so happens to be the spitting image of poor dead Castiel? So Dean, what’s poor dead Castiel doing in that junker out there with your sister?”

“Christmas caroling.” Dean snarked.

“Fun. But how’s he alive? Last I heard he tried to play god and went poof.” Meg drawled.

“I don’t know. And neither does he so I’d like to keep it that way. You’ve gotta stay quiet about it.”

“Oh I do?”

“He doesn’t know he’s cass.”

“Oh I know. I’ve been watching you for hours. So here’s the deal. You might remember Crowley and me were frosty back in the day? Well times haven’t changed.”

“Good.”

“That hurts my feelings. I’ve been so good to you Dean.”

“No, you’ve been good to you, sweetheart.”

“Look. Right now rumors of this wandering healer are strictly low-level. But body count’s getting high enough to change that. Folks start poking they sniff angel dust.” Meg explained as Dean shoved various snacks in his jacket.

“Yeah, they start falling all over each other trying to tell Crowley.”

“Now picture Crowley with his hands all over poor little amnesia Cass. Don’t get my wrong I’m gonna burn that smarmy dick. My time’s coming. But right now my army-of-one situation is not cutting it. It’s cold out here, there’s a price on my ass and I need friends.”

“Yeah, I get that. But I ain’t it.” Dean shook his head, starting to walk past the demon.

“That’s where you’re wrong Dean. ‘Cause I’m here to help you, and that makes us friends.”

“Help, huh? You mean see if you can turn harmless little Cass out there into an angel sized weapon?” Dean snarked.

“Like you’re taking him caroling. And by the way do you really want to keep going without any backup? Hey, I don’t trust you either. But I could really use Emanuel. And he trusts you, so for now it’s in everybody’s best interests to hold hands and cross the street together, okay?”

“We go straight to Sam. No detours.” Dean sighed.

“I love it.” Meg smirked.

“And one more thing. My knife.” Meg held the smirk, resisting lightly as Dean pulled the angel blade from her grip.

“You sure we won’t be safer traveling with a full throttle angel? I could jog his memory.” Meg offered.

Dean stared at her.

“Kidding! We wouldn’t want to upset the poor guy.”

Dean and Meg approached Y/n and Cass- Emanuel, standing outside the impala.

“Her face she’s-“ Emanuel started.

“Meg?” Y/n stared in shock lightly.

“Y/n, it’s a pleasure.”

“You scheming bitch. I can’t help but feel a weird attraction to you.”

“It’s a mutual feeling Honey.” Meg laughed. Dean rolled his eyes.

“We come in different flavors. I’m here to help.” Meg informed Cass.

“I think we’re going to be great friends.” She smirked.

“Alright, can we just go?” Dean threw his hands in the air and Meg and Y/n laughed.

“Good to see you again Meg.”

“You too Y/n.”

The drive to the hospital was, well, uncomfortable. Dean still didn’t quite trust Meg, and Y/n while she was around Meg, but Emanuel was fully shaking. It was terrible.

“This silence is very uncomfortable is there something I should know?” Emanuel suddenly asked. So many things ran through everyone’s minds, but meg settled with,

“I don’t know. Dean?”

“No. Meg has that effect. Awkward, you know?”

“That must be difficult for you.” Emanuel met Meg’s eyes.

“Dean’s making a joke, Emanuel.”

Emanuel chuckled lightly. “Oh.”

Y/n stifled a laugh, her head falling onto Meg’s.

Baby’s engine stopped and the crew rolled out, taking in the fight before them. Demons crawled around the entrance to the hospital dressed as nurses and doctors.

“How many of those knives do you have?” Emanuel asked.

“Just the one.” Dean sighed.

“Forgive me, but how else are we going to get through there?”

“Yeah Dean, got any other ideas?” Meg smirked.

“Excuse us.” Dean flashed Cass a polite smile and led Meg and Y/n away from the angel.

“Oh for the love of God. Sam’s in there! I know you two are enjoying the trip with your old pal, you especially Y/n.” Meg snapped.

“You think it’s really what cut and dry? Really? You know what he did. And you want to tell him and just hope that he takes it in stride? He could snap. He could… disappear. Who knows?” Dean’s anger cooled as Y/n tugged lightly on his shoulder.

Castiel’s voice broke the tension. “I take it we know each other.”

Meg smirked. “Just a dollop.”

“You can tell me. I’ll be fine.” Cass reassured.

“How do you know?” Dean questioned.

“You just met yourself. We’ve known you for years.” Y/n explained.

“You’re an angel.” Meg cut in.

Dean and y/n stopped, staring at Meg.

“I-I’m sorry? is that a flirtation?” Cass was utterly confused.

“No. It’s a species. A very powerful one.”

“She’s not lying. Okay? That’s why you heal people. You don’t eat.” Dean explained.

“I’m sure there’s more, we just don’t know.” Y/n gave Cass a reassuring smile.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Castiel asked, sounding almost offended. “Being an angel- it sounds pleasant.”

“It’s not. Trust me. It’s bloody.” Dean explained.

“It’s corrupt. It’s not pleasant.” Y/n finished.

“They would know. You all used to fight together. Bestest friends actually. And a little more with Y/n here.” Meg smirked.

“More? Like, love, more? Am I Cass?” Cass cocked his head slightly.

“Yeah. We had been together for years. Around three years I believe.” Y/n gave him an awkward smile and leaned back into Dean.

“I had no idea. I don’t remember you. I’m sorry.” Y/n’s breath hitched. She knew this was coming, but it still hurt more than she could imagine. Dean kissed the top of her head.

“Look. You got the juice. You can smite every demon in that lot.” Meg explained.

Cass turned to face the lot. “But I don’t remember how.”

“It’s in there.” Y/n said, reaching up and patting his chest.

“I’m sure it’s just like riding a bike.” Dean commented.

Cass turned toward Dean. “I don’t know how to do that, either.”

Dean turned his head and blinked dramatically and Y/n stifled a laugh. He turned to face Cass again and gave him a look. “Alright I’ll try.” He said before venturing down the hill.

“This ain’t gonna go well.” Dean sighed.

“I don’t know. I believe in the little tree topper.” Meg smiled.

Cass walked up to the guards, nervous as all hell. “Hey I know you. You’re dead!” The demon told him.

“Yes I’ve heard.” Cass replied, placing both his hands on the demon’s chest before reaching one up and smiting him. The memories came rushing back.

He stomped up to the two others and did the same, more flashes of the prior years. He remembered the god, the deals with Crowley, sam, his relationship with Y/n, everything.

“That’s my boy.” Meg smirked.

“Cool it sister. I’m still a little pissed at you for making out with him.” Y/n smiled.

“Oh please you weren’t even together.”

“Still.” She laughed. Dean rolled his eyes.

The last remaining demon tried to run, but Cass was quicker.

The three approached Cass, who seemed to have relived every moment of his past. He looked, ruffled, to say the least.

“That was beautiful, Clarence.” Meg smirked.

“Cass?” Dean asked.

“I remember you. I remember everything.” Cass seemed a little more sullen than he usually was. His attention turned toward Y/n and she could barely look him in the eye.

“I’m so sorry.” Castiel met her gaze. “I never intended to hurt you.”

Something about the odd tone Cass had taken with his ‘sister’ rubbed Dean the wrong way. He had seen too much of her pain caused by him just to be swept off her feet with one feeble apology. “Of course you didn’t! No one does! But a simple “I’m sorry” isn’t going to cut it! You weren’t around to feel the pain radiating off of her! She was in shambles because of you! She deserves so much more than that!” Castiel became dead silent. Along with the rest of the group.

“Dean- it’s okay. I’m alright. Just happy to have him back.” Y/n tugged on his shoulder, pulling him down into her embrace. “It’s alright.”

He closed his eyes, breathing in the peach shampoo, calming the rage swimming in his body. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to flip out.”

“It’s okay, Dean. You were just protecting me. Thank you.” She smiled, kissing the top of his head.

“What I did. What I became. Why didn’t you tell me?” Cass speaking again pulled Dean from his state of comfort.

“Because Sam’s dying in there!”

“Because of me. Everything. All these people. I shouldn’t be here.” Cass finished, marching away from the three of them.

“Cass. Cass!” Y/n shouted after him. “You two stay here.” She turned to Dean and Meg before following the angel. “Cass!”

Y/n followed him up the hill, lecturing him as they went. “If you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time.”

“Don’t defend me. I hurt you. Do you have any idea the death toll in heaven? On earth?” Nothing seemed to slow him down. “We didn’t part lovers, or even friends, Y/n.”

“So what?” She argued, throwing her arms up.

“I deserved to die.” Cass held her gaze.

Y/n bit the inside of her cheek. She knew he was right. He did deserve to die. But not him. Just the corrupt part. Maybe this did it. Maybe he’d be okay now.

“Now, I can’t possibly fix it… So why did I even walk out of that river?”

“Maybe to fix it.” She argued. An idea popped into her head. It may be dumb, it may not even be helpful, but it’d at least maybe bring back a part of the Cass she knew.

#supernatural x reader #castiel x reader #castiel #sam winchester #bobby singer #dean #dean winchester #god!cas

[ve1vetyoongi]

lay down your weakness | jhs

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff here and there

au: bestfriend!hobi, friends to lovers (kind of)

word count: 6.5k

summary: Hoseok had imagined this moment more than enough times. Except in his head it took place somewhere more romantic than the back seat of his car and you always loved him back.

warnings: dom/sub themes, dom!hobi, sub!reader, hoseok is a sweetheart tho, dry humping, fingering, multiple orgasms, size kink, unprotected penetrative sex, semi public sex, possessiveness, but also kinda tender fucking, some dirty talk, creampie, pining and a whole lotta angst (i warned you.)

a/n: this fic is based on the song “howling” by RY X. i hope you enjoy! <3

playlist: visit my playlist page and select “lay down your weakness”. (links to be added later)

When Hoseok's phone vibrated on his night stand at an ungodly hour of the morning, his heavy eyes had widened at the sight of your name lighting up the screen.

He wasn't expecting you to call tonight. You'd texted him nearly eight hours ago -- not that he was counting or anything -- to tell him you were leaving for your date with some guy from one of your classes, even sending him a mirror picture to prove it that made his breath hitch when his eyes glossed over the black dress which hugged your figure just right.

You were always asking if you looked okay. He told you that you looked lovely. Even sent one of the silly little thumbs up emojis, as if to say go get your man like a supportive friend should.

But what he really wanted to say was that you looked perfect in that dress and that you would have no trouble catching Jungkook's eye looking like that. After all you managed to catch Hoseok's eyes in your sweats and one of his over sized jumpers playing games at midnight on his couch.

Except that is the exact opposite of what you're supposed to say to your best friend, so he swallowed the words like he always did.

Anyway, he'd turned in for an early night after that, hoping to get the image of Jungkook's hands stripping you out of that sinful dress out of his mind before it led to even more scandalous images of you without the dress, sat in Jungkook's lap and wishing it were him underneath you. His mind liked to taunt him, saying that it really could have been him if he hadn't left it too long to make a move, falling so deep into the friend zone that he knew there was no way back out.

So receiving a call from you this late at night surprised him to say the least.

Sleepy fingers fumbled to hit the green answer button before you rang off on the other end of the line, the selfie you had forced him to take way back when your hair was long and his hair was blonde that he had set as your contact picture disappearing, quickly replaced by the sounds of your sniffles crackling down the line and suddenly he was upright in bed.

"Can you come pick me up?"

"What happened?"

"Don't wanna talk about it." Another sniffle, Hoseok already throwing a hoodie over his pajamas.

"I'm on my way. Hang tight."

A pang of worry throbbed in his chest as he envisioned you stood shivering somewhere on the side of the road while he hastily shoved his feet into the first pair of shoes he found. Or at least that's what he told himself it was as he started his car, bumping up the heat for when you would slide into the seat next to him.

Because somewhere deep down, he knew the reason he was speeding down city roads at 01:37 as the dashboard clock liked to remind him, was simply because he wanted to be the one to tell you everything was going to be okay. A part of him was even a little glad that things hadn't worked out with Jungkook. And he hated himself for it.

It was like his eyes were alert to you, spotting your hunched figure leaning against a scuffed wall outside some scummy bar before he was even close enough to see the tears streaking your cheeks. You didn't give a little wave like you usually did when he pulled up, no coy smile making his heart do little flips, just that same pang of miserable sympathy in equal measure to his niggling guilt. Instantly he knew that this one was bad.

Still, he leaned across the center console and pushed the door open in a welcoming gesture for you to hop on in like he always did because you said it was gentlemanly and he was a sucker for praise when it came from you.

"Y/N?" He asked simply, expecting a hello or a reassuring smile at the least.

But when you slumped into the passenger seat, bare arms hugging your torso, he was met with nothing but a glum vacant stare.

While you usually seemed to fill the room with your presence, the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed or the way you hummed along to the radio under your breath enough to brighten his mood instantly like a perfect spell. Now you seemed small as you pressed your forehead to the window and watched the blurry orange glow of streetlights pass by with watery eyes.

The funny ache in his chest was back but this time it was an overwhelming longing to reach out and hold you, wipe away the tracks that stained your cheeks. But he feared that if he did you would shatter into a million pieces right in front of him so he tightened his grip on the steering wheel until the veins in his hands strained in the dark and focused his eyes on the road.

Unspoken words were thick in the air. Silence didn't usually bother him, not with you. You spent copious amounts of time in each others quiet company all the time. It was comforting.

Not this, though. Even the hum of the car engine and the click of the indicators seemed deafening. But he knew you well enough to know that pushing you to talk wouldn't make a difference and you'd let him in when you were ready. His job was just to be there when the time came, like a best friend should be.

Hoseok wasn't sure if he was supposed to be dropping you off at your place — honestly the thought of leaving you alone when you were still shaking with muffled sobs made him sick to his stomach — but it didn't feel right to take you back to his apartment either.

So he let the wheels of the car drive a journey every inch of which he had burned to memory, until he was pulling into the far most parking space in a darkened lot, otherwise vacant due to the hour, that overlooked the sea and the little slip of beach beside it.

All concerns were out of the window now. Hoseok didn't care if it was late and he should have been sleeping or that he was going to be tired at work tomorrow. This place was only called upon for special occasions. Or emergencies.

It was your place. Where the two of you came when you received good news or bad news; wanted to laugh or wanted to cry; when it was sunny or when it was raining; when you got your college acceptance letter or the day Hoseok's dog died to name a few.

Hoseok cut the engine, plunging you into complete silence, apart from the tranquil crash of waves which seemed to comfort you somewhat.

If he strained to look over he dashboard he could see the overgrown steps which led down onto the pebbled sand, water beyond it black with the reflection of the cloudy night sky, apart from a slither of moonlight which glistened across its surface.

Hoseok always thought it felt different here at night. Melancholy. You said you liked it better without the bustle of people — it was a popular spot for couples which always made Hoseok burn from the inside out with a yearning to hold your hand like they did — more so now it was just you and him and the rolling waves.

After a few long minutes of watching the tide, you finally permeated the hush with a shaky sigh.

Hoseok wanted to wrap you in his arms there and then like he usually would without hesitation. But something felt different so he refrained. Spoke tentatively instead. "Are you okay?"

You scoffed and he worried he'd said the wrong thing but then again it was the most he'd gotten out of you since you'd left the bar. "I'm pretty shit, actually."

Moonlight highlighted the way you threw your head back against the headrest in self reproach, pressing your knuckles to your eyes but failing to stop the fat tears that slipped out anyway.

Hoseok bit his lip. "Want to talk about it?"

"Turns out the date was just a stupid bet with one of his friends." Your laugh was hollow, shake of your head sorrowful. "We didn't even make it to movies before he was running off with some other girl he met at the bar"

Hoseok's heart shattered. He knew first hand how excited you had been for this stupid date; you'd been blabbing on about it all week. About how much you liked Jungkook. About how much he liked you.

"Fucking bastard." Hoseok gritted, fists clenching as he envisioned all the ways he could fuck up Jungkook's pretty face for making you hurt. "You're better than him, Y/N."

"But I'm not!" A hand slammed on the dashboard, making Hoseok jolt when your voice raised incredulously. "Jungkook was supposed to be the best thing that ever happened to me but he doesn't want me, Hobi. No one ever does."

I want you. The words died on his tongue before they could be spoken, Hoseok sucking in a breath as he mulled over something more appropriate instead.

"Don't be ridiculous," the anger lacing Hoseok's tone made you finally loll your head in his direction, taking in the way he tensed beneath your gaze. "Everybody wants you around here."

It was true, at least in Hoseok's eyes; he had to deal with sleazy men looking you up and down when you danced with him in a strictly PG  fashion on nights out or the campus guys who always interrupted your conversations while you ate lunch together. Even he caught himself staring at you from time to time. Or all the time, actually.

"Then explain why I'm some fraternity joke, Hobi?" Tears were salty on your tongue, voice unnaturally croaky. "Twenty bucks was all I was worth."

Hoseok's hand flew out to squeeze your hand comfortingly before he could think better of it. When you didn't pull away he had to fight to string a sentence together, too caught up in the way your hand felt soft beneath his larger calloused one.

"You're worth so much more than that." His words were laced with a sincerity that made the hurt ache a little less. "Everything. To me."

You sniffed, lacing his fingers with yours and letting the drag of his thumb across your knuckles soothe the ache in your temples from the cheap alcohol at the bar and the tear in your heart.

"Sometimes I think that nobody will ever love me."

The confession lay heavy in the air, nearly making Hoseok choke, or perhaps that was the I LOVE YOU's which were fluttering against his ribs like a bird in a cage.

"You know that's not true." The words were hoarse, Hoseok barely able to think through the blood pounding in his ears when you rested your head on his shoulder. From this angle he could see the rise and fall of your chest, slightly calmer now. The lashes pressed to your cheeks which glistened with a dampness in the dim lighting. And the perfect curve of your lips which he could easily capture between his own if he just cupped your cheek and leaned down a little -- no, definitely not thoughts that you should be having about your best friend, especially not like this. Selfishness won out though as he still could not bare to push you away, pushing his face into your hair instead and chastising himself for savoring the moment.

"I love you." It was barely a whisper against your temple and it should have dissipated on his tongue like the sea foam below but the way you hugged your knees to your chest filled him with an unstoppable desperation to make your hurt go away, even if it would twist the ache in his own heart like the point of a knife.

Your sigh was soft. "Yeah, but not like that."

If only you knew...

A hard swallow, another twist of the knife. "How is it any different?"

You averted your gaze and every second that ticked by in silence made his pulse race. Until you were pulling his face into your hands carefully, eyes zoning in on his parted mouth determinedly and before he could question your intentions his lips were pressed against yours in a hard kiss that made his head spin with a lethal mixture of relief and infatuation.

The plushness of your lips was softer than anything he had ever imagined late at night while you slept in his bed and he slept on the couch. It was barely a delicate brush at first, warm breath mingling with his before your lips were molding to his like you knew them well.

The sour taste of vodka lingered on your tongue as it swiped languidly over his bottom lip and he was silently glad he brushed his teeth before picking you up, never expecting to have his mouth on yours ever let alone tonight of all nights.

You broke away with a gentle pressure on his chest, teeth sinking into his lower lip before letting it go with a barely audible pop. When your eyes fluttered open, Hoseok was stiff, lips slightly more swollen than before and you had to admit he looked good with his hair still tousled from sleep and his chest rising with labored breaths.

"That." You murmured, releasing his hand from yours to swing your leg over his lap, mounting yourself on his thighs and ignoring the way the steering wheel pressed into your back. Hoseok's legs parted instinctively. "You don't love me like that."

Hoseok couldn't help the way his breath hitched when your groin landed in his lap, a red flush creeping up his neck when he felt his own crotch begin to stir at the visual image -- his dreams literally coming true -- squeezing his eyes shut and focusing on his ragged breathing to stop himself filling out his pants and making things awkward between you.

"What are you doing?" It was all but a rasp, tongue snaking out to dampen his lips, head pounding with alarm bells which couldn't quite drown out the desire warming in his chest.

"You said that you love me..." His nod was violent, never an action more truthful. You noticed the way he trembled beneath you when your fingers trailed down the front of his hoodie, testing the waters. "Can I trust you to help me forget?"

He very nearly groaned when he felt your breath ghost hotly across his neck to whisper the insinuation into his ear with what you hoped sounded like confidence, seductiveness but what Hoseok recognised as torment and recklessness.

"You can always trust me." You knew he meant it, though you didn't know it stretched as far as this. Neither did he, usually confident in his own self control but not now, as you leaned down to capture his mouth for the second time and maybe the last for all he knew so why not at least try to enjoy it?

Except before your lips could touch and he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself, Hoseok hesitated.

Deep down he knew that you didn't love him back, that this was the sadness or the alcohol or both talking and that he should tell you to think about if this is what you really wanted and drop you  home instead. But the way you looked at him with a dark intensity, almost pleading, shattered and fragile, made him want to do whatever he could to put you back together. He knew that he could make you feel good, even if it would be a temporary reprieve and it would hurt him more in the long run.

But mostly, Hoseok was a selfish person. It was too tempting to let himself believe you wanted him truly in this moment. He was weak and he couldn't resist.

He leaned in a little closer, your foreheads touching. Dear god, he couldn't fight his thoughts, too enamored with the fact that you were really sat in his lap right now, the smell of the perfume he knew all too well overwhelming his senses.

"Okay." Was what his shaky voice managed to stutter. "If you're sure?"

"I'm sure." It was spoken against the corner of his mouth, your fists tangling in his hoodie and pulling him up to meet your mouth in a kiss more intense than the last that made you fizz with an excitement that dulled the hollowness because he was so so warm, pulling you from the cold water in which you drowned and keeping you afloat in his comforting embrace instead.

You kissed him like you always wanted to be kissed, with an urgency that told him how much you wanted -- needed -- to feel him everywhere, a burning in your lower belly that had you tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, arching into his chest and seeking a further closeness.

It was hot and breathy and the most sensual sensation Hoseok had ever experienced when your tongue pressed against his with an electric curiosity, steeping him in a passion that set him alight, the flesh of his cheeks burning where your lips caressed them and where your exhales tickled his nose.

His hands hovered nervously over your body, not quite sure where they were supposed to go, and when you smirked into the kiss and pressed his hands firmly to your inner thighs, he quickly got to work rubbing circles into the bare skin which peeked out from beneath your dress. Even when a blush crept onto his cheeks as his fingers brushed the edge of your lace panties, making him forget how to move his lips for a second and clashing your teeth together awkwardly.

Hoseok still couldn't quite believe this was really happening and he mentally chastised himself for messing up. This had to be perfect. Something told him there wouldn't be an opportunity for a do over.

You didn't seem to care though, soft laughter tinkling into his mouth as you wrapped your arms around his neck and found his lips again in the darkness like a perfect puzzle piece. The sound was simultaneously the prettiest and the hottest thing he'd ever heard when it faded into a shallow whine when your clothed heat bumped against his hardness lightly.

"Shit, y/n." Even Hoseok couldn't curb the growl that left his throat when you started to grind in circles against his crotch, the agonizingly slow pace not helping the half hard situation he had going on.

By this point your panties were starting to stick to your folds, a lewd wet spot appearing on Hoseok's grey sweats where you tried to gain some friction on your swollen clit which throbbed for attention every time you felt his cock twitch through the fabric.

"You're so hot." He couldn't help it. The real thing was better than any of the ways he imagined you getting off above him when he was alone with his own hand wrapped around his cock.

The husk in his voice went straight to your heat. If the tent in his pants was anything to go by, his own hips stuttering up to meet the pace of your thrusts, Hoseok wanted you and the knowledge was enough to have you clutching at his hoodie strings, hole clenching for him to fill you up  and make you feel whole again. Feel wanted.

Hot palms were kneading the flesh of your ass now, sliding beneath your dress until the fabric was bunched up around your waist. The way Hoseok's eyes widened at your black underwear was cute, distracting you from the reminder that you'd worn them especially for Jungkook. His mouth fell agape when you guided his hand underneath the waistband. "Like them?"

"Love them." He'd seen your underwear a few times before by accident, when you changed at his place and chucked one of his huge hoodies over top of your otherwise bare body, the image burned into his memory enough to get him hot and bothered, mouth dry as he remembered that this time it was a purposeful display, all for him.

The smirk on your lips was wiped away when the feeling of his hand cupping your mound made you whimper, skin on skin much better than the rough friction from his sweats.

Hoseok let out a gasp of his own when the pads of his fingers circled your hole teasingly, surprised to find your arousal already drenching his fingers and making his cock throb painfully against his pants but he wanted this to be about you so he kept his thighs firmly planted to the seat. The idea that it was him who got you so wet was enough to satisfy him anyway. He never thought he, your best friend, could have this sort of effect on you.

"P-please." Impatience was clouding your vision, falling forward to grip the car seat when Hoseok's knuckle dragged your arousal up your slit, brushing briefly across your swollen clit and making you jolt at the electric touch. "Need you so bad, Hobi."

The way you slurred over your words, eyes squeezed shut and chasing the feeling of fullness between your legs made him groan. Even more so the broken way his name escaped your lips, practically begging him to touch you. As much as he would have liked to tease, make you writhe and plead for his fingers, he was too curious to see how fast he could make you fall apart.

The pads of his fingers made quick work of your clit, rubbing fast circles into the bud which made you buck off his lap, head thrown back and exposing the expanse of your neck which Hoseok longed to mark up all nice and pretty and claim as his own but he knew you weren't his so he refrained.

The strangled noise which left you when he slipped his middle finger inside you, promptly followed by a second, nearly tipped him over the edge, clasping the base of his cock through his sweats before he blew his load right then and there at the sheer visual of you using his hand to fuck yourself nice and slow by bracing yourself on the seat behind him.

Not that he could really see much in the dark what with with your panties obscuring your core from view but the lewd squelch as he curled his fingers inside you and the shaky breaths next to his ear punctuated by a string of blissful moans was enough to have him palming himself a little too excitedly, momentarily losing sight of his guilt and succumbing to the moment.

"Mmf, Hoseok gonna cum." The warning only encouraged him more, his wrist snapping at a sinful pace while his thumb toyed with your clit, alternating applying a firm pressure and rubbing it back and forth when he felt it throb deliciously against the pad of his finger.

"Let me see you, baby." There was something about the way he coaxed you through your high, almost commanding as he challenged you to fall over the edge that made the coil in your stomach tighten and suddenly your vision was fading to black and you could barely hear his encouraging but authoritative rasps as your head lolled against the window. "Cum for me, that's it."

He watched with an apt fascination as you came around his fingers, like he'd never seen anything like it before; and it was true, Hoseok was sure you had never looked so pretty and he had never felt so alive as in this moment with you clenching around his fingers, the pretty sighs fogging up the glass all his doing.

The emptiness inside you was back when he slipped out his fingers and wiped them on his hoodie, careful not to stain you with any of your arousal when he wrapped you in his arms, hearts beating in time now.

You stayed like that for a few moments. Him rubbing soothing circles into your back and trying to comprehend what just happened, nerves kicking in at your silence. You breathing in the scent of his woody cologne as your breathing softened.

"Are you okay?" He finally whispered, unable to stop his thumb from tracing your bottom lip when you sat back to look at him, wide eyed and still shaking from the come down of your orgasm.

"Mhm." Your nod was tentative, a funny warmth spreading across your chest at the way his eyes lit up, giving away the grin he was biting his cheek to suppress. "Remind me again why we haven't done this before?"

He stiffened. Because this means more to me than you will ever know...

The tension creeping into the cracks between your bodies made you shift, surprised when you brushed over something which made Hoseok groan.

Adrenaline made you flush as you reached between your legs to grip him through his pants curiously.

"You're still hard." You bit your lip. It drove him crazy.

"Don't worry about me." His laugh was breathy but it faltered when you squeezed his length over the fabric. "I-I'm fine like this."

His cock felt huge in your grip and another bout of lust pooled in your stomach when you realised that you could just slide your panties to the side, loosen the strings of his sweats and easily ride him right there, sure that his girth would stretch you out just how you liked it. And maybe, just maybe, fill the emptiness for good.

"Wanna feel you, though. All of you." Hoseok felt himself melt at the pout on your lips, putty in your hands. Whatever you wanted he'd let you do it. Even if you still weren't his, he knew in that moment that he was irrevocably yours. "Please?"

Your hands found his waistband and he gripped your wrists firmly. You silently wondered what it would be like if he pinned them above your head and had his way with you. But then you caught his concerned expression.

"Are you sure about this? Once we do this we can't go back."

Hoseok still didn't let go after you gave an affirming nod, wanting verbal consent. "I want you, Hoseok."

You could tell that broke him by the fucked out look on his face.

Weak. He was weak when it came to you. And, as he was learning, weak for the way you shimmied his sweats around his thighs and whimpered when his girthy length slapped against the expanse of toned stomach which peeked from below his hoodie. You'd always expected him to be big, the one time you caught him sneaking out of bed after one of your movie nights with a loud and proud boner confirmation enough. But the real thing made you burn with a hunger to sink onto his already leaking cock.

Your small palm was cold when it finally wrapped around his throbbing cock, the sensation a euphoric relief from both the neglect and the years of lusting after this moment. He threw his arm over his eyes, losing himself to the sensation and letting his hips buck into your touch.

Now he was actually here he couldn't think of anything other than the slow slide of your palm down his length, how he wanted to husk that his cock was made for your hand but he knew it wasn't true so he pressed his lips together and listened to the sharp huffs of air which pushed through his nose with every twist of your palm around his engorged head.

"Wait!" Hoseok lurched forward suddenly, fingers digging into your shoulder, face buried and panting in your chest. "Gonna blow my load if you keep that up."

"You don't want to?"

Strands of his hair stuck to his damp forehead and he shook them out of his eyes. His sudden grip on your hips was bruising as he pulled you down into his lap, breath hot against your neck. "Wanna see you fall apart on my cock first."

Hoseok had no idea were the sudden surge of confidence came from. The hormones perhaps or maybe he was just like any other guy, losing himself once he got a hand around his cock. It definitely shouldn't have been the fact that he had his best friend, the girl of his dreams, in his lap and his head was swimming with thoughts of how right this felt even though it was supposed to be so wrong.

"Oh. O-okay." Your core was pulsing again, the authority in Hoseok's voice different from how you were used to. You were quickly realizing you liked the way he smirked when you writhed at his words and braced yourself on his shoulders to pull your panties to the side, ready to just sink down onto his cock then and there.

"Don't." It was firm, commanding. Made you shiver. "Back seat. Now."

You obeyed, practically throwing yourself through the gap in the seats with anticipation, missing Hoseok's warmth during your brief separation until he was hovering over you with a hunger in his eyes that took your breath away. Like he wanted to devour you completely. If he'd asked, you would have let him.

"T-take this off." You mumbled, tugging at the bottom of his hoodie which he pulled over his head with his t-shirt in tow. Hands instantly trailed up his chest, taking in the slight firmness of his shoulders in the dark, not quite remembering when your best friend gotten this broad. There was a pang in your chest. It felt safe here with him, like nothing was wrong with his strong form hovering over you.

By the time he was throwing the pile of fabric in the front seat you were working on your panties, Hoseok's eyes darkening with lust as he watched you kick them off and slide the thin straps of your dress down your arms.

The night air was cool against your nipples, making you gasp. It was a small bliss but you were thankful you didn't wear a bra when Hoseok's bare chest pressed against you skin on skin, instantly warming you.

The drum in Hoseok's chest intensified when he took in your bareness for the first time. His imagination had done no justice. He wanted to commit every inch of you to memory; the perfect swell of your breasts, each soft rise and fall of your chest, soft thighs squeezing around his waist as he gripped the flesh of your ass with a roughness he could no longer curb. Skin warm and flushed and shivering lightly with every delicate touch of his fingers, hair fanned out on the seat like a halo.

Hoseok wanted to say that you were perfect, that he felt like the luckiest man on the planet right now with you laughing at him breathily from where you hid self consciously behind your fingers, a shyness he didn't understand when you looked like this.

He wanted to say that he loved you. To open the car window and scream it into the salty air so that every crashing wave and every grain of sand and every droplet of rain which had started to best down on the car knew it.

But the words wouldn't come so he simply placed a careful kiss to your cheek, roaming downwards and mumbling against your jaw. "Don't hide from me."

The dip of your collar bones proved too enticing to resist, his lips attacking the slightly damp skin and sucking harshly until you were left with a plethora of purple bruises across your neck, the way his teeth grazed your flesh and his tongue laved the burn making your core ache. It was passionate and hungry but somehow tender, as if he wanted to worship every inch of you.

"Hoseok!" You gasped when he found the sweet spot behind your ear as easily as if he had done it a million times before. Like he knew it was there. "What are you doing?"

"Mine." The single word was growled against your jaw line as Hoseok pressed a series of kisses up to your chin, skipping your lips when they parted in waiting in favor of leaving another pretty bruise on the opposite side of your neck. "You hear me? All mine."

Maybe you were lost to the moment or maybe Hoseok's possessive side was the reason your heart started to race, moaning unabashedly now. "Y-yours! I'm yours."

Hoseok couldn't tell if the words went straight to his heart or to his rock hard cock.

Something inside him snapped and he just couldn't hold back any longer, hands running up and down your sides as he kissed down to your breasts, taking a nipple into the heat of his mouth and smirking when you arched into the touch. "Look at you, getting all worked up from just my mouth."

Hands spread your legs roughly and you were at his mercy, enjoying the way he hummed in admiration at your glistening folds.

"All for you." You breathed, believing your words wholeheartedly.

Hoseok's fingers found your sticky clit, stroking with his fingertips lightly. "All for me." He flushed with pride.

"Please fuck me now."

The words he'd always imagined spilling from your lips, breathier in real life he noted. It made him wonder how the other three more sentimental words he wanted to hear would sound.

"Since you asked so nicely." Nerves wracked Hoseok's frame when he realised that this was actually happening, hands shaking as he gripped the base of his cock to line it up with your clenching entrance.

When he finally pushed inside, your warmth swallowing his cock until his hips were flush to yours, it felt like you were finally whole.

The stretch burned, but it soon faded to something close to bliss as you felt every inch of his cock drag against your velvety walls, the head hitting so deep inside you that each thrust took your breath away. It grazed your sweet spot just right, like your bodies were made for one another.

Hoseok didn't give you much time to adjust, wanting to see the way your face twisted with every thrust. Wanting to see how quickly his cock could reduce you to a fucked out mess. "Bet he couldn't fuck you like this."

"W-What?"

"Jungkook." Hoseok licked his lips, trying not to cum when his words made you clench around his sensitive cock. "You were made to take my cock."

"Fuck, Hoseok."

You followed his gaze to where his length slipped out of you, glistening with your arousal, Hoseok running the head through your slit to nudge your clit before it was disappearing into your entrance again. "Look at you, taking my cock so well, hm?"

"Yours." Tears sprung at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the fullness and his sinful mouth. "Only yours."

"Bet he feels so fucking stupid for missing his chance to feel this pretty pussy."

Arms wrapped around his neck, fingers cupping his face and slotting your lips together. Your eyes were shut and it was almost instinctive — did he lean in or did you? — expressing how much you wanted him and how good he was making you feel with a long press to his puckered mouth that felt like rain on a hot summer evening, water breaking a dam. Relief. Like falling into one another's skin.

And every time your hips met skin on skin and you sighed into his mouth, Hoseok felt his heart swell. Even with the expletives slipping past his lips every now and again, he fucked you with a fondness that consumed every inch of his being, one which he felt when he saw you from across the room or when you turned up at his door unexpectedly in the middle of the night.

Love. He hoped you could feel it with every roll of his hips because he couldn't make the words come out.

Then you were reaching a second high, eyes rolling back and soft mewls of overstimulation caressing his ears as you clenched impossibly tight around him and he fell over the edge alongside you, face falling into the crook of your neck as he coated your walls.

In the few moments after, with you pulling him close and his chest pressed to yours, he could feel your erratic heart beat against his skin; and Hoseok swore the final pieces of his own heart fluttered straight out of his chest and into your palms.

Just you, him, and the rolling waves that swelled and crashed achingly in time with every pump of his heart.

But all good things have to end eventually. It was late. You were tired. He had work in the morning. You weren't in love.

There were tissues in the glove box and he helped you clean up, pulling his hoodie over your head when you started to shiver. If you closed your eyes and breathed in his scent it was like his arms were still around you. Hoseok never complained when his own arms prickled with a chill at the loss of your warm body pressed to his.

Then your head was on his shoulder again, both arms wrapped around his waist as you gazed off across the ocean, breathing soft with a hazy smile resting on your lips. The you he was used to back somewhat, if he ignored how much better he knew you now than ever before.

"I love you, you know." Hoseok sounded choked. He didn't mean to.

"I know." A few beats of silence. "Thank you. For making me feel better."

His inhale was shaky as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face, unable to stop the corners of his lips turning up when you glanced up at him through your lashes even despite the hollowness in his chest. "How about I take you to see that movie instead, huh?"

"I'd like that."

And for a blissful moment Hoseok thought that things might be different now.

He clung to that maybe for the short drive home and while he carried your sleeping form into your apartment, letting himself in with the spare key he kept on his keychain and when he tucked you into bed with your shoes placed neatly beside the door.

He believed it even harder when you gave him a sleepy kiss goodbye.

And even when you sent him a mirror picture nearly a week later and he said you looked lovely like he always did while he hoped and he hoped that your date with Park Jimin would be as disastrous as the last, he maintained a slither of hope.

Because one thing would never be different: Hoseok was weak when it came to you.

#btssmutclub #bts smut #hoseok smut #bts #hoseok fanfiction #hoseok angst #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagine #hoseok imagine #bts scenario #hoseok scenario #kwordsmiths #btswriterscollective #<3 love

[artemismoon12writes]

Title: Gradients

Daltonfic Big Bang 2020: Week 2, Day 2: Soulmate AU “When was the last time you saw grey?” 

 “When was the last time you saw grey?”

The question took Dwight by surprise. For as long as he could remember, he’d seen in shades of grey. Grey skies with grey clouds; grey houses lining grey streets; grey trees, with grey shadows, underneath which his friend sketched a grey picture. He had known there was colour, his Uncle described it all in lurid details- the blues, the greens, the golds. Dwight knew if he had a favourite colour, maybe it would be red? Or purple? They seemed to have all the good things.

“You said I should use the other one. Dwight, green and red look the same in grey.” His hesitancy gave way to excitement, “This is amazing! I’m so happy for you!”

Reed had been making a still life for art class; Dwight beside him trying not to mess up on his own project. Dwight took a look at the pastels between the two of them; none of them were grey. They hadn’t been grey for ages; but Dwight hadn’t noticed. Muted purples in with a pale green, cut with shades of yellow and peach; Reed’s hands were covered in colours Dwight wouldn’t have been able to distinguish when he was a kid. But today, he could pick out the yellow against Reed’s blazer. When had that happened?

“You met your soulmate!” Reed almost sprang up, but hit his head on the tree trunk. Dwight caught his stumbling friend.

“I must have.” Dwight said cautiously.  

“Must have? You can see colours! I was so overwhelmed when it happened. It was just boom!” Reed gestured, his hands wild. “It was like, bye greyscale. How can you just guess?”

“I don’t know when it happened.” Dwight admitted, staring around them at Dalton’s grounds. He hadn’t noticed. How had he not noticed every fleck and gleam of colour around him? Had it snuck up on him? Every single story he had heard of soulmates described the rush of colour, flooding your vision as you met them, your soulmate. He’d even looked forward to it; he’d wanted to know who it was, the exact moment he’d found that person who would understand him like no one else.

Reed cut through his thoughts. “What do you mean, you don’t know? It’s, it changes everything? I mean, I didn’t think I’d find mine so early, but god Shane practically fainted when he saw colour. I get you may have wanted to keep it private, but, I can tell you the second it happened.”

“I didn’t notice.” Dwight admitted.

He hadn’t noticed. Oh god he hadn’t noticed. What kind of soulmate was he?

“So, you don’t even know who it is?” It dawned on Reed, with a soft look of pity. Dwight didn’t want that. Not from his friend.

“I, I have to go.”

Now that he was aware of it, Dwight couldn’t unsee it. Even his own clothes, purchased by his mother specifically so her son would never look like a mess; black came in so many shades. The shirt was slightly purple, a black verging on green, and grey laces that looked blue in comparison to that grey he had just assumed everything was.

How had he not seen it? When did it change? What changed? Who?

Who was it? Who was it that brightened a world without him even realizing it? No. He couldn’t have one. Not like this.

God it was a trick. It had to be. Some creature that could make it seem like he could see colours. He couldn’t have met his soulmate yet. They’d have mentioned it. It had to be like, a demon, or a fae- oh god what had he done to piss off a fae? Where was his iron? Where was the salt?

His jog turned into a run, scared as he hopped a hedge back to Windsor’s back door. He had to get to safety. There was something out there. His instincts must be so dulled from this spell. What else were they making him see? What else were they trying to fool him into believing?

The inside of Windsor was blue. So blue it hurt his eyes. He had to have noticed how blue it was. It was like a paint bomb went off. Maybe it did and it was another thing he didn’t notice- or was noticing only because of the fae. Shit. Shit!

Dwight sprayed his hand with holy water. Did that help? He threw some of the rock salt from his pocket over his shoulder. That didn’t help either. The rest of his supplies were in his room. He’d be safe there until he could figure this out.

Without a doubt, Dwight knew the world was grey that summer. Sadie’s tears, Lucas’s freckled arms, Morgan’s glasses- all stoney, clear grey when they enveloped him into the warmest hug when he made it back to them alive. Sadie had brushed his hair back, kissing his cheek. Lucas kept holding him when Morgan rambled on, more than he’d ever heard him speak at once. He couldn’t imagine what colours they all were. They’d been grey. What changed?

The stairs flew by, two at a time in a blur of blue and brown. He almost tripped staring at the colours beneath his feet. Why were things they walked on so bright? Who decided to make it all so loud and distracting?

David nearly slammed into him, Dwight had to throw himself against the wall before he bowled the other boy over. He could hear Wes yelling things at him as he rolled and continued; he had to get back to the room. He could figure things out back there. It was safe there.

Padlocks. He had padlocks. Oh iron ones even! Thank you Morgan, you mad genius. The door was unlocked when he got there, but he got to work immediately, diving into the closet to grab the box of locks and incense (labelled by creature it repelled). The lighter was out of his pocket as he started to wrestle with the bolts- no- no wait.

“Hi, what’s wrong this time?” Todd asked from behind him, barely fazed by the armful of supplies. He was leaning back on his chair- his… his grey chair.

“Was that chair always grey?” Dwight asked cautiously.  

Todd caught where he was staring, gaze travelling down then back up to Dwight. He couldn’t interpret what his roommate was thinking. He couldn’t usually though.

“Yes it was. I thought it looked good.”

“So you can see colour?” Dwight asked, clutching the padlocks to his chest. His hands were shaking. Maybe Todd could help. He could help him figure this all out.

Todd nodded slowly, expression unreadable. “For a while now.”

Dwight held his thoughts together. Okay. Okay. Padlocks first. Got to get this figured out. Todd already had a soulmate. Good. Maybe they’d be able to help break this curse. A tricky fae was the last thing he needed right now.

He felt Todd’s eyes on his back as he bolted the door closed. He took the lack of argument as acceptance they’d be locked in at least for the rest of the night. He had told his roommate to keep a supply of food in case of emergencies; he could only hope out of all the advice he’d given Todd, this would have stuck. He felt like he was the only one trying to keep people safe here. His advice wasn’t annoying! It was practical.

“Nails?” Todd asked, opening the window to disperse the strong smell of incense. It was fine for it to go outside; let the fae know he would not be intimidated.

Dwight turned, the iron nails nearly all lined up at the foot of the door. “I think a fae’s cursed me.”

“Really?” Todd sat back down. The window helped, but there was no crosswind to help it along. The writer’s expression was pensive. Dwight assumed that meant explain.

“Yeah.” Dwight set the last nail in place, lining the whole thing with salt. He was nearly out of his supply. Oh what a time! “I can see colours. I think a fae is messing with my perceptions; its either that or a demon, but a demon would have clearer motives.”

“You found your soulmate?” Todd sounded worried.

“No.” Dwight said firmly, standing up and closing the door to the closet. “They’re messing with my mind. I would know if I met them; I wouldn’t just, not?”

The last bit was bitter in his mouth. Because what if he didn’t? No! Besides, the only new people he’d met that term were the freshmen. And they all treated him the same as any other upperclassmen. You’d think if it was one of them the gossip would have spread. They were the worst secret keepers ever. Not a single prank on Stuart had gone right since they started babbling to anyone who’d listen. It was a trick. A nasty trick.

“So it just happened today?” Todd asked.

Dwight shook his head. “I can’t remember when it started. But, I know for sure when I was home in the summer it was all grey.”

“Huh.” Todd said, arms slumped over the armrests of his chair. “Weird.”

Dwight looked around the room; chair aside, everything was still kind of grey in the room. His own side was more colourful than Todd’s for godssake or else he’d suddenly think the curse had lifted. He could see the brightness of the plaid on his Supernatural poster; the jewel colours of his books; the little rainbows that the crystals threw from the daylight on them. Todd’s side in contrast was dull; muted hues with barely a shade to them. Maybe he’d just not changed it up since he found his soulmate; but, he’d had this stuff for ages. Morgan always vowed he’d dress like a clown as soon as he found his soulmate- why only use greys if you could appreciate so much more?  

He heard himself speaking, “When did you start seeing in colour?”

Todd smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were a hazel-green. He’d known that. How did he know that? “That’s a rather personal question, don’t you think?”

“I’m trying to figure it out.” Dwight said, sitting down on his bed with the incense burner, holding it out like the teak would protect him. “Everyone says you see your soulmate, and everything is suddenly focused. That’s how it was for Reed and Shane- they knew right away.”

“It’s a little more complex than that.” Todd said, turning back to his laptop.

“Are you talking about broken connections?” Dwight asked. He’d heard about one-way connections. People shrieking in delight as colour flooded their vision, only to have the other stare at them confused. That had happened to his Uncle Ford. He’d gotten over it, but there was a reason he’d never married. There were a lot of exceptions, like three-way connections, potential connections, or the complication of natural colour-blindness; but his mother said he would never have to worry about it because he and his soulmate would know the moment they laid eyes on each other. But, a broken connection… did that happen to Todd?

“Maybe.” Todd admitted. “It might have happened to you.”

“I’m under a curse. At least since the start of term.” He said, pensive over the possible fae candidates.

“Then I’ve been under a curse since freshman year.” Todd said, starting to type; like he wasn’t really interested in the conversation. He couldn’t hide the regret in his voice, creeping through the nonchalance. “I saw… I saw him when he arrived at Windsor, and I have to say I didn’t expect it. But, well, even after getting to know him he still saw grey.”

“Who was it? Do I have to kick their ass?” Dwight sprang up, “I bet they’re the fae! No way you don’t have a two-way bond! You’re awesome!”

Todd paused, looking away. “Yeah, no. I don’t think it’s them.”

“Well then, I’ll get Sadie to curse them! Or I’ll find the real fae; they’re probably holding your soulmate’s colour hostage.” Dwight declared. “It’s probably something like that.”

Todd shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ve got everything under control. I’ve got these contacts; they make it all-”

“No! It’s not fair.” Dwight knelt down next to Todd’s desk. “Whoever is doing this to you, I promise I’ll figure it out. Because I refuse to believe you have a broken connection. It’s not right! You deserve someone who cares about you; who gets you like a soulmate is supposed to. That’s the whole point! So whenever you’re lonely, there’s someone you can go to. Or whenever you’re happy, there’s someone who can make you laugh even louder. Or whenever you’re scared, they’re there to make you feel brave. And like, you do that all for me and you’re just my roommate- whoever they are, they’re missing out!”

Todd stared at him. “You’re an idiot.”

“What?” What. What?

Todd looked between mad and frustrated, raising his hands from the keyboard before closing the lid. “Just, ah, just leave me alone okay? I don’t want to talk about it. If you’re convinced this is a fae, you have Trinny’s email. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But-”

“I don’t want to talk!” Todd snapped, grabbing his laptop and going into the washroom. “If you want to pee, go out the window for all I care.”

The lock clicked. Dwight looked between the open window and the two locked doors. What had he said?

No matter. He had a fae to hunt. Whoever Todd’s soulmate was, he would have to wait to put them on Sadie’s curse list until after he got the colour out of his eyes. He took another look at the greys of Todd’s side, a soothing balm of soft colourlessness in the confusion; it really was almost like he could see greys again; remember any loneliness was not permanent. He’d find his real soulmate, and so would Todd. He was sure of it.

#daltonficbigbang2020 #daltonfic #pg #otp #owie #holyshit #oneshot #soulmate au #dwodd #dwight houston #reed van kamp #todd hendricks #artemiswrites

[softgothsweetheart]

Colors {Chrysalis}

The rain and wind was harsh and unforgiving as she walked up a path.

What the hell is going on?

Paisley got to where the path ended when she realized she was standing under a lighthouse. But then Lee saw another female and walked slowly to her. There was a giant tornado from what she could see and as she looked around, there wasn’t much else to be seen aside from buildings being completely destroyed. A boat flew from the storm, hitting the lighthouse. Just as Paisley recognized her classmate, she heard the loud groan and they both looked up, the lighthouse was coming down. Paisley shoved her classmate out of harms way just as the lighthouse collapsed on her. As she woke up, she realized she wasn’t in the middle of any storm, she was in class.

Paisley calmed her heartbeat and sighed, deciding that she would have to listen to class. Maybe her uncle giving a lecture would calm her down. Ground her, give her some sense of up and down until she could make sense of the dream.

Was it really a dream if I don’t remember falling asleep?

Paisley watched her uncle Mark lecture the students on Diane Arbus and chiaroscuro, all about photography – something she loved a lot. He’d taught her the beauty of it when she was old enough to hold one and not damage it. Lee knew she was old enough to form her own opinions of people and she – at the young age of 14 – had decided her uncle wasn’t truly who or what he said he was. The night she figured that out, it was too late, her aunt didn’t seem to care either – if she even knew what he did. But Lee was almost positive aunt Prudence knew. Not much too later, the bell rang, and the students were dismissed, only Kate, Max, and queen bee Victoria were left. Kate’s head was down, like she was thinking too hard, like she was overthinking. Lee wanted to believe it wasn’t because of the Vortex club party she’d attended a few weeks back, but she knew that it was. She must’ve remembered bits and pieces; Nathan hadn’t expected her to act out so much whilst under the influence.

Then Paisley stood up and walked over to her uncle who immediately dropped Victoria. She scoffed and glared at the younger girl, “Excuse you Paisley.”

Mark seemed to glare at the tall blonde, a look she didn’t notice. But he intervened before his beloved niece got hurt.

“Excuse you, miss Chase. Paisley is the youngest student here and she is also my niece and assistant.” He turned to her and asked her what she needed.

“Oh—I need to know where to go.”

“Just head out to the diner if need be.” He shrugged; Lee nodded obeying. As she walked away, Max walked almost alongside her but stopped when Mark called her name. Lee continued out of the quiet classroom into the noisy hallway where her fellow classmates were. Kids older than her by at least three years on but were more rambunctious than a room filled with toddlers. She quickly walked the halls, toward the bathroom because the feeling of eyes watching her had suddenly become too much to bear. Paisley had recently begun to experience something abnormal.

It’d happened one day when she was cleaning a camera and elbowed it off the table. The loud crash was heard in the back rooms of the house and her uncle had come rushing out, yelling. When he was coming at her, she held her hands out as if it were going to stop him and everything went backwards until her vision faded and burned at the edges. When Paisley looked behind her, the camera was fully intact and back on the desk. She thought it’d been a trip, but she even threw a rock into the house through a window before rewinding time until before it happened, even throwing her aunt’s phone at her head. The feeling and power had grown stronger, she knew that much.

Paisley’s feet took her into the girls’ bathroom, she holed herself in the last stall, listening to music on her phone as she sat on the toilet. It was a soft song—one of the many Rachel Amber had told her she’d like and gave to her on a playlist. It was sad that she’d no longer see her friend except through the miserable posters she saw around campus. The song was so soft that over the music she heard the door open once more and whispers. For a few minutes, Lee breathed silently and had her music low to listen when the door had opened with a loud smack, some more talking and another thwack. Shadows moved outside, she hadn’t a clue if they knew she was here in hiding. So, she killed the music and removed her headphones.

When Paisley looked down in the stall and to her left, she could see her fellow classmate’s shoes—Max’s to be exact. They weren’t hard to recognize. There was an exchange happening between Nathan and some random girl.

“You’re wrong—that’s my family—not me.”

“Oh, boo hoo, poor little rich kid. I know you’ve been pumpin’ drugs and shit to kids around here… I bet your respectable family would help me out if I went to them. Man, I can see the headlines now.” If this girl knew about the parties and drugs—if Nathan told, then she would die. Especially if she knew who the real culprit behind this was.

“Leave them out of this, bitch.” Nate growled, he wasn’t in the best of moods and she was testing his patience. It was going to get bad no doubt.

Maybe he can reel himself in… C’mon Nate, do what I taught you.

“I can tell everybody Nathan Prescott is a punk ass who begs like a little girl and talks to himself—" Seems the unknown female cut her sentence short, gasping, her shoes scraping against the tiling as she fell back to the wall.

“You don’t know who the fuck I am or who you’re messing around with!” He shouted.

“Where’d you get that? What are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!” She seemed to be begging, Paisley peeked through the cracks and couldn’t see a damn thing except for Nathan’s movements. He growled in rage and she had a frightening thought—

Maybe it’s the gun uncle Mark bought for him! Oh god, no.

“Don’t EVER tell me what to do. I’m so sick of people trying to control me!”

“You’re gonna get in hella more trouble for this than drugs.”

“Nobody would ever even miss your ‘punk ass’ would they?!”  

Is he going to shoot this girl? What would he do with the body? The gun?

“Get that gun away from me psycho!” A loud bang rang out, Max yelled, and Paisley saw her arm stretched out through the cracks before everything rewound. Lee was sat back in class, diagonal to Max who seemed to be alert. More than one time traveler sounded crazier than one did. Class went on, everything the exact same as before, except for Max elbowing her polaroid camera off the table and rewinding it until it was no longer broken. After Max played with her rewind, using Victoria’s answer against her and Mark’s quote against him when he asked her where her photo was, they both left the classroom. Lee pulled her aside where no one could overhear them.

“Stop rewinding, Max, seriously.”

“How did you—” The older female seemed panicked that she knew.

“I can time travel too. Stop using it on nonsense. It won’t work when you truly need it if you don’t.” Paisley didn’t expect Max to listen, but it would have been nice to. They re-entered the bathroom and followed what they had done previously and waited until Nathan had pulled his gun again. Max moved the trolley, picked up the mallet, rewound so the trolley was back and smacked the emergency alarm in the corner. Loud blaring sounds that came were deafening, Nathan had fallen to the floor with a slam as the blue haired female shouted and made her escape. Nathan followed suit and Lee opened the stall and saw Max giving her a look that showed her relief.

They exited the bathroom together, but the security guard promptly stopped them, scolding and interrogating as if they were children and had done something wrong.

“Hey, Madsen, don’t be such a dick. I have familial issues and Max was helping and consoling me.” Paisley glared, and Max tried her best but looked like a small child.

“Miss Christopher—shut your mouth—” Lee scoffed, fake tears springing to her eyes as her hand covered her mouth. Principal Wells intervened and the were glad, but when exiting the building he stopped them.

“You both look stressed out. Are you both okay?”

“Mr. Madsen has serious issues, he just told me to shut up. He interrogated us. Today is such a hard day—it was my mother’s birthday.” Max seemed to be impressed by Paisley’s lying abilities.

“Is that all you’re thinking of? Or have you done something wrong?���

“Are you accusing me of lying, principal Wells?” She questioned, her tears drying up and shooting him an accusing glare.

“I’m sure my uncle informed you that it is in fact my mother’s birthday. I get very sad during this time of year. Max found me in the bathroom and consoled me. So, yes, principal Wells, I am rather stressed.” He must’ve bought it because he nodded and gestured to his office.

“My door is always open to give advice.”

“Thank you so much. It really means a lot.” Paisley nodded, giving a watery relieved smile before pulling Max to the main campus through the doors. The alarm was off but the ringing from it was annoying as all hell. Once they descended the stairs, Max yanked herself loose and it spun Lee around to face her.

“You didn’t tell him about Nathan—”

“Max, you don’t understand what happens if we go down that road. Wells won’t give a shit; he won’t look into it. Then he’ll tell Nathan’s dad who’ll threaten him and tell Nathan. It’ll come back to us.”

“But—shit—you lied so well that Wells bought it!”

“He’s a fucking drunkard, of course he did. Plus, I have tons of experience under my belt that I might as well be an expert.”

“Thanks, I guess… You’re Paisley Christopher, right?”

“Yeah I’m Mark Jefferson’s niece.”

“I didn’t know that, you look super young. How old are you?”

“Fourteen, he made sure I got into the academy.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re fourteen, you seem older.” A ping from Max’s phone sounded and she instantly checked it, texting.

“It’s Warren, I have to go. I’ll see you later?” Max asked, Paisley nodded and while her classmate went around campus to socialize, she went directly to the dorms where Victoria was sat with her minions. All three annoying plastics. When Paisley tried to pass, Victoria scoffed, sitting up.

“Whoa freak, you don’t even stay in the dorms.” She mocked, pointing out. Paisley rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“I mean, don’t move if you wanna crush your chances at the Everyday Heroes contest. I would, especially since I have ways of convincing my uncle.” Lee examined her nails, letting her green eyes flicker to Victoria’s.

“You’re like fucking twelve!” She shouted in displeasure.

“Nice guess, Tori, but I’m fourteen and I don’t screw around. If you want your fair chance to win the contest I’d move.” Victoria rolled her eyes, standing up even as Courtney and Taylor scoffed. They’d told their queen bee not to move a muscle and she had. It made Paisley feel powerful as she went up the steps and into the boys’ dorms.

Paisley entered the dorms, walking down the corridor before turning left and knocking on the first door there;111.

“What?” She heard Nathan’s upset grumbling from behind the door. Lee opened the door and walked in to where Nate was laying on his bed.

“What the fuck do you want?” Paisley closed the door behind her and sat on his couch and tried to get comfortable.

“You, the bathroom. Wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking?”

“The bathroom?” He asked, waving his hand dismissively.

“Your goddamn gun, Nate!” She whispers shouts and he was up and on his feet in an instant, his hand wrapped around her neck loosely. Nathan’s hand squeezed lightly, trying to remind her who was in charge.

“Don’t fucking yell at me, you’re like ten years old.”

“I’m fourteen, Nathan. Don’t play the age card.” She removed his hand and shoved it into his chest.

“He’ll kill us if he finds out.” She reminded him and he groaned.

“You actually want to live with what we’ve done?”

“Can you please take this seriously?” Nathan let out a laugh, devoid of any humor. It answered her question. He collapsed back on his bed and relaxed.

“Where were you in the bathroom?”

“I was hiding in the last stall.” He locked eyes with her and squinted, making sure she wasn’t lying.

“I guess you left the fucking Polaroid then. You gonna join Max on her twee hipster expeditions?”

“That one wasn’t mine, Nate.”

“Then who does it—” He stopped himself short and sat up.

“Max Caulfield. Fan-fucking-tastic! Are you sure she was there?”

“She saw the gun, she almost told Wells too, I had to step in and lie.”

“You only stepped in to cover her ass.”

“Not even, I stepped in because what if Wells begins investigating? You know Mark wouldn’t be happy about it. I convinced her that it was best if she didn’t clash heads with you.”

“Damn right.” Nathan was off his bed and out the door and had Paisley trailing after him, he was in the main campus and in the parking lot in no time at all. Paisley was trying to stop him, pulling on his arm but he yanked out of her grip.

“Max Caulfield, right? You’re one of Jefferson’s photo groupies…” He asked as he approached her.

“I’m one of his students.” Max corrected; Paisley cursed her. Why couldn’t s have just gone along with it?

“Whatthefuckever. I know you like to take pictures, especially when you’re hiding out in bathrooms. You best tell me what you saw. Now!” Nathan demanded, yelling. Paisley braced herself for the worst, she knew it was coming. She shook her head at Warren when he looked to her, Nathan towered over Max. She shouldn’t have told him.

“What are you talking about?”

“I know you’re new here but don’t play dumb with me.”

“I’m not new. I’ve lived here for years.”

“Then you should know the Prescott’s own this shithole.”

“Nate—"

“Then you shouldn’t worry about me… worry about yourself.” He grew angrier, his hands clenching tighter into fists. Max seemed to have a penchant for pissing him off, then again, didn’t everybody?

Nathan was so far gone, lost in his anger and beyond reasoning. If a hand was laid on him, a fight could break out. He was a ticking time bomb.

“Do not analyze me! I pay people for that. Worry about yourself, Max Caulfield.”

“Take a step back, Nathan Prescott.” Max's words have him stepping closer, into her face.

“Oh, man, you’re telling me what to do?” Warren gets in between and as a result, gets headbutted. He falls to the ground, clutching his head. Max shoves Nathan and he turns back to her, his hand gripping her around the neck.

“Nathan!” Paisley shouted, eyeing Warren on the ground.

“Nobody tells me what to do,” he shakes Max, “Not my parents, not the principal, or that whore in the bathroom!” She manages to scrape his cheek and he shoves her to the ground. Lee grabs Nate by his shoulder and he backhands her, and she stumbles as a rusted beige truck drives up. It almost hits Max who immediately stands up and gazes at the driver.

“Chloe?”

“Max?” They hear the driver exclaim.

“No way, you again?” Nathan questions in a growl. Warren stands up and tackles Nathan to the ground.

“Go, go! I got this!” He yells and Max gets in. Paisley looks around and all she can feel is her heart beating in her chest. Nathan pauses hitting Warren and stands up, kicking the car door closed.

“Get your punk asses out of there now! Don’t even try to run! Nobody messes with me! NOBODY!” He shouts as the female from the bathroom pulls away. Paisley watches as the truck gets farther and farther away. Madsen comes over and the teenagers turn towards him.

“You three, Principal Wells’ office. Now.”

“Fuck off old man.” Nathan gives the security guard the finger. Warren stands to his feet and Paisley feels her cheek and looks around between the guys.

“Miss Christopher—move it—”

“Dude I said fuck off! Do you not understand English?” Nate shouted, lighting a cigarette. Madsen grabbed Lee by her bicep, and she tried pulling away, protesting.

“Leave her alone—” Warren said.

“Stay out of this Gayram.” Nathan sneered. Madsen forced them to the Principal’s office, Warren with an ice pack, Nathan with a bandage where the scratches were, and Paisley who had makeup on hand to cover the forming bruise.

“Would either of you three care to explain?” Wells asked, each of them looked at each other. The boys not bothering to mask their disdain for each other.

“Nathan started this.” The younger boy spoke up. The older boy raised his eyebrows and leaned forward, giving him the finger, which Wells didn’t even bother to comment on. Warren gave a mocking face and Nathan almost smacked him from behind Paisley when Wells scolded him. Warren and Paisley argued until it became too loud and they all silenced at Wells’ yelling. Nathan made half assed comments and left the office, not bothering to close the door behind him.

“We done here? Cause I’m leaving too.” Warren stormed out in a slightly less aggressive fashion and Paisley secured her bag as she stood up.

“Want to explain miss Christopher? It seems like the most trouble you’ve caused, and the week is only beginning.” He asked, leaning over his desk. Paisley shrugged.

“I’m just unlucky. Bad timing is all.” She chalked it up, leaving the room as she heard him sigh behind her. She exited the school and what ever students were left from earlier whispered and eyed her. First time she’d taken it in stride, she’d made it to the campus exit when she received two messages at the same time from two very different people.

UNKNOWN > You just wait until I see you later.

Warren > How could you defend such an asshole? He hit you!

Not a good end to any day, this meant bad news. When she met her uncle in the parking lot, he didn’t look pleased in the least. Paisley got in the car, no protesting and he climbed in the driver’s side. The whole ride home, he expressed his disappointment calmly. Most likely he’d get angrier at home where she could receive her punishment.

They arrived but when she slowly went to hide but failed, he caught her by her lengthy brown hair, yanking her downwards until her knees hit the laminate.

“I wasn’t going to discipline you but then I saw the look in your eye. You were going to hide; I just know it.”

“Please—uncle Mark, I wasn’t! I promise!” She cried, her knees rubbing harshly even with her dress to protect them a little. Her hands covered his, attempting to undo them.

“Go to your room, I don’t want to see you until tomorrow.” He let go of her hair and Paisley managed to stand up on her wobbly knees.

“My punishment?” She asked, stumbling back.

“You take the photos Friday. I choose the subject and you don’t get dinner tonight.”

“What subject?” She asked fearfully, maybe it was Stella? Or Alyssa, or even Taylor and Courtney. It was impossible to figure out who his intended target was.

“Victoria, of course. You’re drugging her at the Vortex Club party. After I announced the winner of the contest.” Paisley nodded, leaving his presence and staying in her room. He’d left a bit ago by the time the sun was setting, it was getting late and she was getting hungry, but she wouldn’t dare try to eat. Paisley lost track of how much time she’d been sitting in the window. When she saw the snow, she didn’t believe it to be real. The house was silent meaning her aunt Prudence was gone and had taken Amelia to work.

She simply went outside and watched it snow. Lee sat on the steps of the backyard and felt sharp pains in her head, passing out. There was thunder, harsh winds. Paisley forced herself to walk up the steep terrain. She managed to barely avoid collapsing trees and rolling boulders. They obstacles she probably couldn’t have managed without her rewind abilities. As she ran up, Paisley realized it was a lighthouse. The lighthouse, she looked over the edge and saw nothing but Arcadia Bay in ruins.

When she made it to the top, she saw Max who was holding a newspaper.

“October 11th? Is this Friday? That’s only four days away!” Max exclaimed, letting the paper fly upwards into the storm. Paisley reached out, her hand touching Max’s shoulder as she zapped back to the stairs. Lee stood and stumbled into the house, locking the back door and locking herself inside her bedroom.

Maybe it’s time to be a hero.

#life is strange #nathan prescott x oc #nathan prescott #chloe price #warren graham #Mark Jefferson #Mark jeffershit #mark Jefferson x oc #victoria chase #rachel amber #writing #fanfics

[myaekingheart]

So last night I had two of the most bizarre, unnerving, and intense dreams I think I’ve ever had in my entire young life.

The first began mundanely. The concept was that my parents moved out of their current house, but supposedly still stayed in the area. My boyfriend and I went down to visit, during which we were in the car with my mom and she was driving us around the old neighborhood to see the house and whatnot. The first thing I noticed was that my neighborhood didn’t look like my neighborhood. In the dream, it was understood that this was my neighborhood but in reality, it looked nothing like it. There were more roads that all wound about each other, and more houses none of which I recognized. When we were done, and my mom drove to the edge of the development, we pulled out onto this road that reminded me both of the road I’d take to my old campus and the bridge over which you’d drive to get to the hospital my mom worked at when I was a kid. There were full bushes along the roadside filled with pink hibiscus and a shallow bridge over a body of water and there was nothing to obstruct the clear, bright, blue sky. It was when we pulled onto this road that everything changed. Suddenly, my boyfriend was in his own car behind us, leaving me and my mom alone in the driver’s and passenger’s seat, respectively, of the car. We were talking casually about what, I can’t remember, as we started toward the bridge but another car wouldn’t let her merge into the right lane so we ended up swerving off the road and flying through this gap between the bridge’s cement guard rails and the bushes along the road. The ground dipped down steeply toward the body of water. The car went flying, and immediately my mom started freaking out, repeating “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god” over and over again on the verge of hysterics. Her arm flew out in front of me in the same fashion she always does whenever something happens involving a potential danger with the car. And then we splashed into the river, or ocean, or whatever the fuck it was, and rapidly began to sink. My mom started screaming and crying, knowing that this was going to be her demise. That we were going to die right then and there. I could feel my heart racing in my chest, my hands shaking at my sides. I already felt like I was beginning to suffocate but I took matters into my own hands, turned around in the passenger’s seat, and began trying to quickly wiggle the driver’s side headrest off of it’s perch because I remembered reading somewhere that they were built to break windows open in case of this very same sort of emergency. I don’t remember anything else, and therefore have no idea what happened afterward. All I know is that it was the most horrific and anxiety-inducing moment, it all felt so fucking real, I felt like I was literally drowning in my own dreams. Looking back, though, I’m finding a lot of interesting symbolism in it, as well? Like her swinging her arm out in front of me is representative of the way in which she always strives to protect me. The drowning aspect itself is like the way in which I sometimes feel like she’s a little overbearing, smothering me with affection and attention and whatnot. And the way we both reacted to the drowning itself is the same way in which I’ve always felt like our relationship has always been a little warped, in that there are times when she's acted more like the reckless teenager than I have, meanwhile I‘ve always been the tightass wasting so much time and energy trying to keep tabs on her and make sure she doesn’t do something stupid like a parent. I dove into action while she panicked, despite my own fear. I don’t know, like as horrifying as this nightmare was, it was at least kind of refreshing to see the interesting ways in which my subconscious melds and formulates certain things in my life into something so symbolic.

The second dream was more unnerving than traditionally horrifying, I think. The basic premise was that my grandmother decided to throw a pre-death funeral for herself. I don’t know why. I don’t know if, in the dream, she had some sort of incurable condition or was given an ultimatum about how long she had to live. She just basically decided to organize a funeral for herself. So the dream begins with my parents and I arriving at what I apparently intuitively know is a courthouse, yet the inside looks like my state’s capitol building. It has the same pale turquoise paint, medium wood fixtures and accents, and a fancy mural on the ceiling. The three of us walked up this flight of stairs to what I can only describe as a loft-esque second story. There was a railing overlooking the first floor and wooden benches, kind of like backless church pews. My parents and I took a seat near the front where, in front of the railing, was an open casket in which my grandmother was not laying like she was dead but lounging, her back propped up by pillows, as if she was enjoying an easy Sunday morning in bed. There was a poster board on an easel beside her that said something along the lines of “Rest in Peace, [insert name here].” She had her glasses low on her nose and was reading what I at first thought was a book but later concluded was one of the funeral pamphlets. I leafed through one myself, overlooking the schedule printed on the manila paper. Not long after, my grandmother began her spiel, basically guiding her own funeral thanking everyone for coming and rambling about her life and whatnot in line with the list on the pamphlets. At one point she magically had a PowerPoint presentation she was scrolling through and speaking from, which is where an incident of particular interest occurred. On one slide, she brought up my estranged uncle (who basically told my entire family to fuck themselves and hasn’t spoken to us in about four years). What was interesting, however, was that she didn’t note him as her son. Instead, she had him listed as my father’s brother, as if she was denouncing him which is strange since I know despite all he’s said and done, she still loves him very much and wishes he would come back. It was in this moment that the dream quickly switched from first person to third person perspective and landed on a vision of my uncle himself sitting on one of the benches among many other nameless faces. He had to have snuck in there behind everyone’s backs, secretly, as he never said anything to anyone about coming or greeted any of hsi own family. He sat there with his head in his hands as if he was suffering some incurable migraine until he heard what my grandmother had to say about him, upon which he rose and ran down the stairs and out of the building. My mind’s camera saw him burst through the doors outside, then paused there as he disappeared only to show him driving away through the glass doors in an olive green minivan. I don’t know why this was even a thing in my dream because all in all, it was kind of a pointless addition, but the irony lies in the fact that apparently I just automatically associate my uncle with funerals now, since he never went to his own father’s and it was the source of a lot of strife and unrest in my family. But anyways, afterward the perspective snapped back to first person, as in to me. When my grandmother finished her speech, everyone was welcome to approach the casket to say a few personal words. When it was my turn, I stood beside her and told her how much I loved her and apologized for every time I’ve ever pissed her off or made her upset or argued with her, whatever. It was in that moment that reality slapped me hard and fast and I started spiraling into a bit of a panic. After this, the scene quickly changed and I was suddenly standing in the doorway of what appeared like a hospital room, except less sterile and creepy. There was this very particular rosy light filtering in from the windows that was kind of comforting but overall gave the rather blank room a kind of musty aura. My grandma was lying on her side in bed, not asleep but just resting. I knocked on the door lightly and she bid me inside, to which I told her of my trouble and how upset I was feeling. I don’t remember the exact words exchanged, I just know I was in a moment of severe weakness where I was trying to grasp the fact that one day, she would really be gone. She pulled me close and I curled up next to her and broke down in tears as she tried to comfort me. Shortly after, there was again another knock at the door and in came my grandfather, her husband, which was slightly jarring since it was he who passed away four years ago. He looked like he had just come from someplace, as he had a jacket slung over his arm. He looked at us and asked us what was going on, having spied the scene, and when my grandmother explained it to him, he set his coat down and came over and joined us for one big group hug, all of hugging and bawling our eyes out. It was an overwhelming scene and, like the previous dream, felt so fucking realistic it hurt. But then again every dream involving my grandpop hurts. It’s always so strange when he comes and visits me like that, and I feel like in the past few months he’s more frequently appeared in my dreams. On one hand, it’s kind of nice because I miss him a lot and I wish he could see all that I’ve accomplished so far-- he never even lived to see me graduate high school-- but on the other hand, it always hurts, too, knowing that this is as close as I’ll ever be to him again. And his appearance in this dream was especially unnerving, as well, considering the fact that he is, in fact, gone, and the situation with my grandmother’s “funeral” and whatnot. Almost as if he was coming to take her away with him to heaven. I don’t know, it’s a terrifying thought that I don’t want to humor. She just had her 81st birthday last week, on Valentine’s Day. Her and my grandpop had the same birthday. They were married for nearly 60 years.

#weird dreams #ramblings