#this is the 2nd year in a row that I can’t do anything

[apricotzel]

wrote something short for my beautiful dnd party in the CoS campaign i run because i wanted to add some depth to doru and father donavich, and also wanted to post it here. if anything contradicts canon its because i forgot or decided to change it my bad. if there are any mistakes please be nice. beware here be spoilers and also a 2nd person pov !!

“Are heroes real?”

There’s a clatter of dishes; a knife slips from your hands and back into the sink, it disappears below the surface.

There’s a pause at the table. Your son sits there, bright-eyed and wondering. He needs a haircut, you think. Maybe spend less time in that watered down sunlight, and he wouldn’t ask silly questions.

You clear your throat, resume the motions. “The Morning Lord is real.”

“And heroes?”

You don’t answer. It could be better like this, better to just ignore and lock away all of foolishness. He’s only young, only a couple handfuls of years, and he’s missing so much in his life. He doesn’t know the sun, and you didn’t either until you had him.

You turn to grab another dish, and he’s there with his eyes that are yours, and he is staring at you.

“Heroes, Father.”

You can’t silence your way out of this one. You put down the knife, dry your hands - pale hands, shaking ones - and grab his face gently.

“There are no heroes, Doru.”

His face doesn’t fall, he grins like he was expecting you to say that. “Is the Morning Lord not a hero?”

“He cannot reach us,” You say gently. You must’ve told this story to him a thousand times, never has his grin wavered. “The curse of the Devil Strahd blocks him. We wait for his return.”

“A hero could bring him back.”

You had trained anger out of yourself years ago under the training of the Morning Lord, under your own father. You open your mouth as if to argue, but your sun continues.

“Have hope, father,” He says. “I could be the hero.”

You know what happens to heroes, you have told him a thousand times, never has he stopped.

“I could protect you,” Your sun insists. “I could banish the Devil.”

You waver, because you love him.

“I could,” He insists.

“Do your reading,” You straighten up, “Stop this nonsense, Doru. You’re too young.”

He opens his mouth as if to argue, but you are a priest, and you know how to control faith in your hands. You reign him in, harsh and gentle like a dog to a post.

He stomps away with perhaps too much attitude than you should allow, but there are dishes to do and prayers to be said.

A service is interrupted by his singing. He does not realize, in the way he never realizes how loud he is. He moves unabashedly through the world, twirling and singing. He would jump on tables if you let him.

You try to carry on with the word. It’s a quiet service today, and those in the pews are familiar with you and Doru. Your voice wavers, caught on a laugh. It’s rusty and scratches out of your throat, you try to hide it, coughing and stammering over the holy text.

Someone in the front row coughs to stop their chuckle. A gentle, sputtering giggle comes from somewhere else.

A waltzing note follows, off-key and hectic. You duck your face, letting the laughter take you. Foreign noises fill the air as the company does the same. Laughing fills the still air and gets lost in the mist. You glance up and catch him standing in the entrance to the chapel, shoulders shaking and a hand barely covering his smile.

Years later, he asks you the same:

“Are heroes real?”

“What?” You ask. You’re doing something, you don’t really have time for this. He sits next to where you lean over his desk, reading his writings on the Morning Lord, gently pointing out flaws and molding it until it makes more sense.

He fidgets with the quill, shoving the feather into your face until you bat it away. It’s his favourite quill, so you do so gently.

“I found a sword,” He starts.

You try not to sigh. He has never wavered.

“And someone to teach you?” You mutter.

He deflates slightly, head lolling back to stare at you. He needs a haircut. He has a faint tan that you don’t. Always running around in the field, through town, through the graveyard, never praying. You worry, as you ought to do.

“I can teach myself,” He says.

You waver, he sees you do it.

“Have hope,” He presses gently.

You shouldn’t look at him. He will only be looking up at you with those eyes that you can never argue with. 

“Hope is for fools,” You say.

“And the pious.”

You give him a disapproving glare, and fall right into his trap. He’s grinning up at you, mischievous and boyish. How does he find the energy to do that? You don’t know. Even at his age you had given up on this land, and so you turned to the gods to hope for some salvation. He seems to be his own God, your own sun.

“There’s a mage in town,” He continues despite your glare.

You frown. “Many mages come through here.” They all die.

“This one is different,” He insists, because he is young and you had never let him meet the mages that would later die.

Instead, you sigh. Run a pale, shaking hand through his too-long hair and settle it on his shoulder. “Don’t be foolish, Doru. There is a reason no one here has hope.”

He reaches up and clasps your hand, strong as iron at first and then it settles light as dust; you try not to think of a dying breath, how every ghost up on Castle Ravenloft fought until it was over. 

“Please, Father,” He looks at you, imploring. You stare at the mirrors in his skull, and waver. “I could do it. I would make sure that nothing could hurt you ever again. Not a devil, nor vampire, nor zombie, nor hag. You wanted a God and I am your son. Have faith in me.”

He is the brightest thing in this valley, and you vow to never let the curse that suffocates it harm him.

“I forbid it,” Gently, like a prayer.

His face darkens like a cloud passed over it. Without a word he lets go of your hand. You expect him to charge off, to yell, to do anything, but he just turns back to his work. This worries you more than anything.

Later that evening, you pray that the entire world will become weaker because you know you cannot be strong.

He knows more songs than you do, and you’re not sure where he learned them. They echo from his room to yours, out his open window, down the valley like he’s a siren. Even when he is quiet, his voice haunts the house. Always under his breath, songs of love and victory. Of sorrow and a life lived to its fullest. 

You stand outside his door now, hearing him hum and dance, bumping into things and swearing under his breath. Always a pause after every curse where he sends a brief prayer for forgiveness, you can see him without seeing him, the way his body freezes in realization and his eyes flit to the ceiling as his hands fumble to put themselves in the right position.

You knock on the door gently, and a second later it swings open. He smiles seeing you, as if he hasn’t in a while. His hair is wild, brushing his shoulder and sticking to his face, eyes bright. 

It’s not his birthday, it’s not a holiday. There’s no reason for you to unveil a curved dagger from underneath your robes and present it to him. It’s beautiful, even you know, and you are not versed in metals or blood. Wrapped around the hilt and falling down to the pommel is a chain adorned with beads and the symbol of the Morning Lord.

He looks as if you had just given him the world, and takes it with a gentleness usually reserved for children. As if in a trance, he walks over to his window to look at it better. The shine of the metal dances across his face.

He looks over at you, you who are still standing in his doorway like an unwanted fiend that can’t cross, you bathed in shadow, you the priest.

“Why?” He asks with an unsure laugh, like he is waiting for you to snatch it back.

“I don’t want you to use it,” You clarify immediately, “Look at me, Doru. It is not for you to charge to battle with. I just- I want you to know. That the Morning Lord will protect you.” Softer, “I will protect you.”

He turns to stare at you as if lost, light weakly haloing his hair and casting his face in darkness.

“Nothing will hurt you,” You scramble for the words. “I won’t let it happen to you. What happens to those people - the heroes - it won’t happen to you. Not while I’m here. I asked for a God and I got a son. I won’t lose you, too.”

Your sun’s hand reaches up, shaking, as if to grab you. Your own hand twitches at your side, but does not go forth. He grabs his own shoulder and turns back towards the light.

“Thank you,” He says, and his voice is thick and breaking at the edges. You wonder, briefly, how heavy it is to hope. You wouldn’t know.

You nod, and go to retreat. He opens his mouth as if to say something, inhaling sharply and leaving the room breathless.

You waver, because you love him.

His gaze trails down to the dagger in his grasp, shaking hand to meet it like you grab onto the rosary, and you feel like he isn’t yours anymore and hasn’t been in a very long time. He needs a haircut, and you love him.

The door creaks when you shut it.

The door to your room is locked and there is a man in your church. You do not know what is happening and you are afraid of it. They are taking away your son.

That’s not right.

The door to your room is blocked and there is a man in your home. You do not know what is happening and you are afraid of it. Your son is letting himself be taken away.

You wish, briefly, you had spent less time praying and more time swinging swords like he did. As it is now, all you can do is claw at the wood and at the door handle. You kick, feel the jarring follow up your knee and it aches like everything. You were not built to handle such tragedy as the one you were born into, you are just a priest.

“Doru,” You screech again and again and again, and you can imagine blood from the inside of your throat trickling down and choking you with how much it hurts. “Don’t do this. Don’t do this.”

You are just a priest, and all you know is how to beg for someone to listen to you.

Your window lays broken, but people wait outside of it with threatening stances and weapons they grab tighter every time you walk closer.

You hear his voice from the other side of the door.

“I’m sorry,” He says again and again and again, and you can imagine him with his hand laid flat against the door, wincing everytime you ram your body into it. Head laid sorrowfully on the wood like this hurts him more than it hurts you. “I have to. I must fight.”

You scream, guttural and wordless, and slam into the door again. You have never felt fear so potent. All hero stories end the same in Barovia.

Suddenly the fear leaves you, and you quiet down, hands laid flat against the wood.

“Listen to me, Doru,” You whisper, because all secrets must be whispered, “I love you. You can’t do this. Do you hear me? Please, they have enough people. They don’t need you. Stay here. Let me out.”

He pauses, as if his resolve flutters.

“I have to do this,” He says. You scream once again, but he pays no mind. “I have to have hope. We must have hope. If only you could see that is what the valley needs.”

You know what the valley needs. It is not another dead child.

“I’m sorry, Father,” He says, and his voice wavers, because he loves you. It breaks right down the middle. “I’m so sorry.”

You beg, plead, and scream. To him, to the Morning Lord, to Mother Night. To the other gods, those you do not believe in but are desperate enough to try.

“I’ll be home soon,” He whispers, and it is almost drowned out.

His footsteps retreat from the door, and you slide down it, on the floor. Your breath comes quickly, gasping, choking. You think you might vomit, or your heart might stop, or you might just stop existing then and there.

You can see him running down the hill to the army, led by the mage. Your fingers wrap around shattered glass. You cannot cry out, but you do not look away until the mists that surround Castle Ravenloft swallow him whole.

He is sent home by the Devil himself. Your son, your beautiful son who has never hurt anyone. You put the key where no one else will find it, and begin to pray. Your mind unravels, and in the darkness, the frayed edges of his reach out to it, and meet.

#curse of strahd #cos #doru #father donavich #teddie be quiet! #who up writhing over family #for extra context in my game i've aged doru down to 16 #because i thought he was for some reason for the longest time #my boy :( his son :( HIS SUN :(

[book-of-jess]

Apparently I have been perceived a lot longer than I imagined. 2nd week of school till veterans weekend, cause the first week was all about the front row.

Decisiveness got me where we are now.

The similarities between the both of us are uncanny and everyone at school knew it cause they’ve known him for years and I don’t have intentions of hiding who I am.

The travieso. Keeps taking classes to get acquainted with all the trades. Now we have a female counterpart to his energy.

He’s teacher her. Me. Even Professor knew it was the way to go for the school. We lack what the other one has. Partnership.

Today we went on a 6 mile hike and there was a pretty girl he really liked. Most of the people we hiked with were uncomfortable watching him spend time with her, while I was around, but I want him to do as he pleases. It gives me the freedoms to do the same. I made a brand new marine friend. I kept it respectful, as always.

I’ve been asked to keep myself out of reach and I don’t mind since I’ve been running from being within reach of the world. If he’s able to keep my safety intact, I can do a lot more while I preserve that boundary. Not interested in sharing myself. God is calling my name and might baptize myself, after my third kid out of wedlock.

For me. A son.

The more we navigate life and the world, the more I realize that I want what I can’t have. I wish I could have a son, but do I really want to go through sleepless nights cause of a diaper change or nursing, or teething? A baby that has high sensitivity, like him? No. Or perhaps it’s a price I am willing to pay if there is guarantee that I’ll be set up the right way. Since he plans on having more kids elsewhere for the rest of his life, he needs to generate the wealth needed to keep that plan going. My kid would get a piece of it, and so would I, for working it and to raise him well. Me. Us, sometimes. Just like him and his dad.

There are not many people this guy wants to allow around, but that also reminds me that these are just certain standards he has now, but it wasn’t always the case. It’s for the better.

I am feeling a tad adventurous because knowing how random life can be, it gives us the opportunity to pull anything out of thin air.

Airless don’t tend to like the impromptu arrangements for entertainment. Ironic. That’s how you end up seeing everything when you mature. At least that’s how I’ve developed, for the most part.

We’re getting tired of each other because we’re both trying so hard to keep distance and keep living our life as always.

We need to accept that God put us in each other’s lives to cause damage to darkness.

He’s helped me, so I want to give back.

In my past, I’ve done it way too much and lost myself, this time, we are both giving and getting more.

Something about him likes when I stand up to him and give him a piece of my kind. Especially because the way I do it is graceful, like him.

The similarities are uncanny.

[lamonnaie]

hi!! gmmtv anon again ✨. i’m sorry for disappearing but real life was kicking my ass

the amount of fanmeets a lot of them do in general is insane. i do understand that this is how the company and the actors make a lot of their money, but come on they are overdoing it at this point. they are actors after all and not idols even tho p’tha called them “idols” 🗡️🗡️🗡️

i remember gem saying that he will have two shows next year, but idk if they will pair him up with a girl for the second one or if it will be another show with fourth. tbh before part 1 aired i was so sure they were gonna give winnysatang their own show with gemfourth as a side couple plus their own show as mains lol

i might check out some of joong’s scenes, but since it’s focused on the girls those scenes will very likely always involve film in one way or another. ugh it’s so annoying 😩

oh speaking of joong, a fan asked him at a fansign if he will have a show with dunk next year and he was like “no <3. Or maybe?” (https://x.com/allaboutnia_jd/status/1716433598008684595?s=46). i know they can’t spoil anything but this made me want to fight him hahahahah

so true! i’m glad we got a lot of new faces and that they’re actually giving them lead roles!!! you go gmmtv!!!

yeah mark was doing the most this year, and i love that for us and because i do5 think i would ever get tired of seeing his face. i’m still a bit sad about him having to drop out of cooking crush because getting more of neomark would’ve been epic. but it was also understandable because he had OF promo and shooting for last twilight going on at the same time. anyways, i do hope he will get offered more serious and maybe even lead roles now that he’s established himself an actor who can do more than just play the comic relief.

i’m praying for part 2 having even better shows than part 1 and pls it would be so funny if they gave taynew and offgun another show 😭😭😭

Hii!! :) Don't worry about it anon, no pressure at all to reply, life happens sometimes <3

nah the idol thing is so funny actually 😭😭 like some of these people are amazing actors, but extremely mediocre singers/dancers/etc at best hajskdj. i swear as soon as someone is even slightly marketable, off they go. i remember there were a couple markford intl fanmeets, even though i dont think they're gonna pair up again for a show

I definitely was expecting a het show for one or both of gem4th, but since the lineup's in 2 parts, it would make sense to save that for the 2nd installment (can already see the delulu fans not being too keen on it... gemini hung out with bimbeam recently and some people on twitter were.. yeah 😬) hopefully we get my love mix up soon after to kinda calm that 😂 (and then i'm completely wrong and we get another gem4th show 👀 i wouldn't be opposed either)

and another gem4th wnst show sounds so cute actually !!! i was honestly expecting a wnst leads show (not an ensemble), is it bad to still have hope for pt 2 🥺 at the very least, they seem to be going the full established cp route with wnst, they're gonna be in LOL next year + the logo. soooo if not pt 2, at the very least we'll surely get a wnst show in gmm2025 🤞

real, and given how many characters there are in ploy's yearbook, i can't imagine they're all gonna get a lot of screentime anyway. Also i didn't realise joong was paired up with film?? not the biggest fan of film (i'm sure she's lovely, i just don't vibe), sooo not looking too good for me 😅

JOONG WHYY 😭😭 he looks so smug, i dont know what to make of that <//3 ppw essentially spilled everything about their series before pt 1, surely he can give us some crumbs, not cryptic nonsense like that LMAO althoughh we've technically gotten a jd show 2 years in a row so maybe they're giving it a rest??

(also i was so confused by the person repeating himself in the background in english, took me way too long to realise it was dunk 😭😂)

(also anon, my bestie, this is kinda embarassing so keep it a secret for me <3 but i've been watching way too many of those jd tiktok compilations on yt lately 😭😭 i am the fan and i am being serviced 😌😅 hopefully we get another show soon tho)

i'm so glad mark's managing to make that jump!! he's such a good actor, both in comedy and more serious stuff :) i do hope we get more neomark at some point, i wouldnt want them to become a fixed pairing but i do wanna see them act together again

yesss i always see people not too happy about the lineups, maybe my expectations are too low but i'm pretty optimistic for pt 2 !! i rlly loved a lot of the shows in part 1, so hopefully they can match or top that :]

also anon did u see the last twilight trailer getting delayed 😭😭 gmm why (seem to be asking that a lot lately ajskdj) i rlly like jimmysea but i know they aren't as popular as other cps, and this isn't helping :((

#these asks are gonna need a keep reading label break thingy at some point considering how long they're getting 😂😂 #gmmtv anon #asks

[curlynerd]

Just Say It

Happy gift posting day for the @starrynightdeancas gift exchange! I had two assignees, so I'm posting two fics today! My 2nd gift recipient is @deanwinchesteradjacent! She requested canon-adjacent Destiel with fluff, action, and a happy ending. I hope you like it! <3

Word Count: 7.5K Rating: T Summary: A string of violent deaths at an otherwise charming B&B was all the excuse Dean needed to drag Cas down to Florida for some fun in the sun. Things had been awkward since Cas came back from the Empty and they could finally be together, but Dean was sure that a romantic getaway was the perfect thing to help Cas get out of the training wheels stage of Angel's-First-Romance and start acting like a real couple. Just as soon as they took care of a vengeful spirit. What could possibly go wrong? Notes: Post canon, fix-it fic, oneshot, love confessions, Dean is bad at feelings, case fic, beach fic.

Also read it on AO3!

“Alright, I’m heading out.”

“Did you pack deodorant?”

“Dean…”

“Toothpaste? Mouthwash?”

“...”

“Those fancy hair products? Cuz there’s just. So. Many--”

“Dean! I’ve lived my whole life on the road. I know how to pack a damn dufflebag!”

Dean smirked, unperturbed by Sam’s whining. “Yeah but Eileen is a classy lady. She’s not gonna put up with your usual road stank.”

Sam sighed in annoyance as he readjusted the bag on his shoulder. “I’m not the one who wears his underwear three days in a row, jerk.”

“Better leave that attitude at home, bitch,” Dean said cheerfully. “It’s your anniversary, after all.”

Sam’s mouth twitched into a shy grin despite his best efforts. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be on my best behavior,” he said, letting Dean have one last bit of fun before he left. “You and Cas too. Don’t get into trouble.” He nodded in farewell before he climbed the stairs to the bunker door.

“Oh, and Sammy?”

Sam paused at the top of the stairs and turned around. Almost like he could sense what was coming, his eyebrow twitched in irritation. Dean hucked a box up to the landing, and Sam fumbled to catch it. Dean flashed a shit-eating grin as Sam read the Trojan label and fixed him with a scowl. “Make sure you wrap it before you tap it, Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he walked out the door.

Dean laughed to himself as he turned back to his laptop, scrolling through news articles looking for a hunt. He was still at it an hour later when Cas came shuffling into the room still in his pajamas, two cups of coffee in hand.

“Mornin’ Sunshine,” Dean crooned cheerfully. Cas’ hair was in wild disarray, and between that and his worn, brown sweatshirt and loose pajama bottoms, he looked more like a bear stumbling out of hibernation than a guy just waking up. “Sam already left.”

Cas set a mug down in front of Dean before slumping down into the chair beside him. “I hope he and Eileen have fun this week,” he mumbled as he hunched over his coffee.

Dean smiled at how adorable Cas looked, all grumpy and sleep-ruffled. He was still an angel...somewhat. He had Grace, if only a little. So close to mortality, Cas often needed mundane human things like sleep and food. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about it. In fact, he was so irritated about the whole thing that Dean hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to invite him to sleep in his room, instead of alone. Dean chewed on his lower lip. Maybe after this case, things would change.

“Are you looking up a case?” Cas asked, tilting toward Dean’s screen.

“Uh...yeah.” With forced casualness, Dean turned the laptop so Cas could read a headline from last year: “Gruesome Death at Bed and Breakfast Leaves Locals Worried.” “Over the past forty years, there’ve been six deaths at this B&B. All either heart attacks or a brain hemorrhage. All without a scratch on ‘em. Always a couple. Always on the same night: this Friday. That sure screams ‘ghost’ to me.”

“Key West?” Cas asked as he scanned the article. “Florida? That’s quite a drive.”

Dean shrugged. His fingers tapped against the tabletop. “It is, but hell, why not? Sam gets the week off with Eileen, why can’t we have a little vacation too?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. Suspicious. He was suspicious. Was a little time off really so bad? “You haven’t taken a vacation the entire time I’ve known you.”

“Yeah, well…” Dean struggled to come up with a good excuse. “That was, ya know. Before.”

“Before,” Cas repeated stiffly.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Before everything.” He gestured around his head. Before Cas told him he loved him and immediately died. Before Dean rescued him from The Empty. Before they wound up in this awkward, stilted Angel’s-First-Romance training wheels relationship Dean found them in.

That seemed to placate Cas. He nodded and took another sip of coffee. “The beach would be nice…”

Dean broke into a grin. “Better than nice! Toes in the sand, drinks with little umbrellas… That’s better than paradise.” He gave Cas’ shoulder a friendly pat. Then--because he could, couldn’t he?--Dean let his hand run along the broad expanse of Cas’ shoulder and gently cup the back of his neck.

This was okay, right? He’d held back on any sort of real PDA because of how uncomfortable Cas would act. And that was okay. He understood. Angels and intimacy...Well, angels just worked differently than humans. And it was all new to Cas! It took him over a decade to say he loved Dean. It would probably take awhile before he was ready to hold hands.

But this wasn’t very much, right? Just a light hand on the back of his neck. This was about as innocent as things got!

Except Cas went stiff under Dean, and Dean took the hint and pulled his hand away as he bit back a sigh. So much for that.

His eyes trailed back to his laptop. Hopefully this getaway would change things, help Cas loosen up and finally see that they could act even a little like a couple now. A romantic beach, warm sunshine, half-naked romps in the water, a cozy and only slightly haunted bed and breakfast…

What could go wrong?

----

Three days and one slightly terrifying highway over the ocean later, Dean and Cas pulled into a parking space for a charming bed and breakfast painted in a lovely pale--

“Lavender?” Dean balked at the decidedly dainty color of the siding. “I know they like their pastels here, but geez…”

“It’s just a paint color,” Cas said as he crossed around to the trunk and started unloading their bags. The duffle full of salt, shotguns, and various iron weapons clanked ominously. He shouldered it carefully so it wouldn’t make so much noise.

“This whole street is like friggin’ Candy Land.” Dean eyeballed the canary yellow house across the street suspiciously as they made their way to the front door.

The inside was clearly the result of a scandalous love affair between a Jimmy Buffet concert and a Hallmark store--All tacky tropical themed furniture and a dizzying array of porcelain figurines.

Dean grinned from ear to ear and elbowed Cas. At Cas’ inquisitive eyebrow, Dean nodded his head to a shelf full of long-haired, sad-eyed blonde angels. Cas rolled his eyes while Dean laughed to himself.

“Hello! Can I help you?” An older woman sat behind a small reception desk, smiling warmly at them in the glow of her ancient computer.

Dean put on his best people-pleasing smile. “Yes you can. Hi, I’m Dean, and this is my, uh…” Dean glanced over to Cas and his eyes crinkled in delight. “Cas. This is my boyfriend, Cas.” Just the word caused a giddy bubble of effervescence to float inside Dean’s chest. After all this time, they were really here. This was real.

Cas offered the receptionist a small, tight smile before turning his studious gaze to the figurines on the wall shelves. The woman furrowed her brow, so Dean charged forward with the conversation before Cas’ awkwardness put her off. If they were going to pry into the case here, they needed her to be friendly with them. “I booked a reservation for this weekend. It--Are you guys still open? It’s kinda quiet in here.” Dean glanced around the empty living space. There weren’t any other cars parked outside either.

The woman waved off his concerns. “Oh yes, it’s just the off season right now. Some weekends are like that.” She spoke a little too quickly as she clicked through her computer. Dean suspected all the news articles about bloody deaths had something to do with it. “Not hard to find your reservation. You’re our only guests tonight.” She grabbed two keys off a hook and held them out for Dean. “You’ll be in room 4, down at the end of the hallway upstairs. It’s the largest one. If you need extra towels or anything, let me know. I’m Susan.”

Sensing they were about to be dismissed, Dean swerved into a distraction. “You know, we’ve been on the road for ages. Do you have any coffee or anything like that? A little wakeup before we hit the beach?”

Susan pushed back from the desk. “Oh of course! I was about to get some for myself, actually. I’ll be right back.”

“Keep an eye out for anything suspicious, Cas,” Dean muttered as Susan disappeared down a hallway. “Anything out of place or really old. You know, haunted stuff.” Cas nodded, and Dean covertly pulled his EMF reader out of his jacket pocket and flicked it on. It was silent. They both made a pass of the room, pretending to look around.

“Here we are!” Susan said brightly, expertly holding three coffee mugs in her hands. Dean jumped a little and hastily put his device away before turning around. “I hope cream and sugar is okay.”

“Any caffeine is fine,” he assured her as he and Cas took their mugs. “So Susan, what is there to do around here? You know, other than what Yelp says. The insider’s scoop.” Dean winked as he took a sip of his coffee.

Susan smiled. “Well, if nightlife is your thing, there are some great spots within walking distance.”

Dean chuckled. “C’mon, Susan. Does this guy look like much of a dancer?” He grinned fondly at Cas as he draped his arm over his shoulders. It was ridiculous how much his stomach fluttered from the small action, but dammit, after all they’d been through to get here, Dean had earned a few butterflies. He squeezed Cas’ shoulder even though Cas didn’t really react. Dean was definitely going to have to clarify that the personal space rule didn’t apply anymore.

“Well, the restaurant down the street also does an excellent brunch,” Susan offered instead.

“Now that’s more our speed.” Maybe if the hunt went well they could actually stay the night, instead of getting the hell out of Dodge before the cops chased them down. Keep their salt and burn quiet and enjoy a nice night in. Dean tried not to get his hopes up for sharing a bed with Cas.

And he did mean sharing a bed. Things were moving so slowly between him and Cas he’d be thrilled just to spoon, nevermind anything else. Dean bit back a sigh as he swept over all of the knick-knacks and decorations, hoping for some sort of clue as to the identity of their ghost. “I’ve gotta say, I love the decor. Is all of this your collection?” Maybe a haunted object? Or a cursed one?

“Most of it.” A faint twinge of wistfulness colored Susan’s words as she looked over the porcelain figurines. “My Marcy liked to collect the angels, but that was years and years ago.”

On a high shelf was a large urn next to an oil painting of a young woman that immediately pinged Dean’s hunter’s instincts. “That’s a lovely painting over there,” he said, catching Cas’ eye meaningfully. Cas turned around to look too.

Susan’s face melted into a quiet, sad smile. “Yes, that’s my Marcy right there. A self-portrait. She was such a talented artist.”

Cas tilted his head. “She was your...wife?” he guessed.

Susan’s face crumpled. “No. No we were never…” She took a deep breath and continued in a steadier tone. “She was my business partner, but I loved her. Very much. And I knew she loved me too. So I suppose you could say we were almost together. Should have been together.” Her lower lip trembled.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what stopped you?” Dean felt bad for pressing her for information that was clearly upsetting, but people’s lives were at stake. Possibly Susan’s own.

Susan curled her hands around her mug, staring into the steaming coffee with a far off look in her eyes. “I was afraid. Of my own feelings. Of opening myself to getting hurt. So I...When Marcy needed me to be honest about how I felt I...I let her down. She got mad...We fought...She ran off. There was an accident, and...Well...” Susan took another deep breath. Her eyes were glassy with tears and heavy with regret. “Today is the anniversary of the day she died.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Dean said, injecting even more sincerity into his words even though he expected as much. Marcy was the best lead so far. Was she attacking people on the anniversary of her death? She was obviously cremated, but perhaps there was something keeping her tied here?

“Not your fault,” she said with the heaviness of one who had heard those words hundreds of times. She shook her head. “You’re not the reason she--” Susan cut herself off and swallowed down her tears. Despite her best efforts, a single tear trailed down her cheek.

“It sounds like you loved her very much,” Cas said, his voice infused with genuine sympathy.

“She was my world. I loved her more than she’ll ever know...” Again Susan fell silent, this time lost in thought.

Then, with a deep, resettling breath, she wiped at her eyes with the edge of her finger and forced a cheerful expression. “But enough of that. You’re my guests. You don’t need to hear all of that! Do you need anything while you get settled in? More towels? Recommendations for restaurants?”

Dean shook his head, “Appreciate it ma’am, but we’ll probably just grab whatever’s convenient around here.”

“Well, would you like to eat here? Usually I don’t serve dinner for guests, but since it’s only the two of you, I can cook up something if you’d like. I honestly wouldn’t mind the company.”

Sensing another opportunity to interview Susan, Dean smiled his very best ‘comforting the bereaved’ smile. “We’d like that very much, Susan. Thank you for offering.” Then, carefully timed almost like an afterthought, he added, “Oh, and what’s the wifi password?”

Upstairs their room was somewhat small but airy. The walls were a crisp, breezy blue, the linens bright white. There was even a gauzy white canopy draped around the four-poster bed. Dean grinned. One bed. Surely that was cause for some optimism about tonight.

“I dunno about you, but I’m gonna sleep like a log tonight,” he said with the most casual tone he could muster as he grabbed the weapons bag off Cas’ shoulder and deposited it on the duvet. “What about you? Think you’ll need a couple z’s?” ‘Please say yes.’

Cas eyed the bed. Something strange flickered across his face. Something heavy, even sad. Dean immediately felt like a jackass for reminding Cas about his weak Grace. “I mean, who knows how you’ll feel tonight,” Dean added hastily. He started digging through his bag for his laptop. “Get some sea air in your lungs, and you might wake right up.”

Cas pursed his lips. “I suppose so,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. He turned away from Dean and started roaming the room, looking over the artwork on the walls and the little beachy decorations on the furniture. He came to a stop.

“This looks like Susan and Marcy,” he said, letting his fingers trail along the frame of a painting over the dresser.

“Yeah?” Dean looked up from his booting laptop. It was an oil painting like the one downstairs, with a young couple in bright dresses making each other laugh in front of a backdrop of a stormy gray ocean. One was undeniably a much younger Susan. Marcy looked the same as she did in the painting downstairs.

Cas frowned a little and pulled his hand back from the frame. He glanced around the ceiling and only relaxed when he saw an air-conditioning vent gently humming nearby. Dean shrugged it off and turned back to his laptop. He set right to work searching through the local newspaper archives and breaking into the coroner’s office servers. Finding their ghost was only a matter of time.

“Got it. Marcy Daniels. Died forty-three years ago tonight.” Dean flipped his laptop around so Cas could read the news article. “Hit by a car. Right outside this house. Died before she even got to the hospital.”

Cas squinted at the screen. The photo attached to the article looked just like the woman in the paintings. “And you think she’s the ghost?”

Dean shrugged. “Seems as good a guess as any. Violent death. Susan said they were fighting right before. Probably something happened between them that left Marcy pissed off enough to stay in the veil.”

Cas nodded. “We should ask her about it.”

“Nah, she’s not gonna let us grill her about her dead partner like that. We’ll strike up a conversation at dinner. That should give us enough time to figure out what’s keeping Marcy here before she attacks tonight.”

Cas deferred to Dean’s hunting experience. “Well then what should we do until then?”

Dean grinned from ear to ear. “What do you think we should do? To the beach!”

---

Dean shut the trunk of the Impala and straightened his back, lifting his face to the breeze blowing in from the sea. He breathed in deeply. “God, smell that salt air…” he said with a wistful smile. When he turned to Cas, the angel was looking at him with fondness, warmth making his blue eyes brighter. Dean’s smile grew, and he lifted up his sunglasses to flash Cas a playful wink. Cas quickly ducked his head and started walking.

Dean bit back a groan as he followed behind him with their beach bag. What was he doing wrong? He was trying to be gentle, to give Cas enough space to adjust to the idea that they were together now on his own. After all of the crap they’d been through together, after so many things keeping them apart, he understood why Cas was struggling. Hell, he’d been squashing down his feelings for so long, Cas probably didn’t know how to let himself have this happiness.

At least, that was what Dean kept telling himself. Deep down, though, he was afraid that Cas’ feelings were changing.

“There’s a good spot,” Dean said, jogging up behind Cas and forcing down his depressing thoughts before they could meet up with his self-loathing and really cause problems. He grabbed Cas’ arm and tugged him toward an unoccupied part of the sand. The weather was a little too temperamental this time of year to attract huge crowds, but there were still plenty of people out enjoying the sunshine.

Cas let himself be led, his flip-flops flapping awkwardly over the sand. Dean laughed a little, even though his footing wasn’t much better. When they’d walked far enough away from the boardwalk, Dean unceremoniously dropped their bag and dug out a large blanket to lay out.

“Perfect,” he declared as he tipped up his sunglasses to survey his work. He plopped down on the blanket and shucked off his shirt. A quick glance up let him catch the way Cas’ eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his expression smoothed over. Dean wiggled his eyebrows at Cas, but he didn’t see because he turned around like a friggin’ Victorian lady in order to pull off his own shirt before he sat down in front of Dean, facing the ocean. Dean’s gaze swept down the broad, muscular expanse of Cas’ back, and he could barely contain the heat in his eyes and in his grin.

Only then did Cas glance over his shoulder and catch Dean’s eye. Dean bit his lip suggestively, his grin widening, but Cas’ cheeks turned lightly pink and turned his head away. He rubbed at the back of his neck. Nervous, huh? Well that was alright. Dean could lighten the mood.

He held up the bottle of sunscreen. “Alright, let’s spackle your back.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Dean,” Cas said, not turning around. His voice sounded even more gruff than usual, which was certainly saying something.

“Nonsense!” Dean was already squirting a healthy dollop of sunscreen in his palm. “You can get sunburned, same as the rest of us.”

Cas sighed heavily. His shoulders twitched, tense, but he didn’t protest when Dean slapped his hand at the middle of his back.

Dean set to work rubbing the cream into Cas’ warm skin. “See? This is nice. It’s like a mini-massage.” He made sure to move slowly, almost caressing him. His stomach fluttered with the faintest whisper of excitement. This was the closest thing he’d gotten to action in months, after all. And Cas’ back was nice. Broad and firm and far more muscular than Dean would have guessed. His heart did a little tapdance at knowing that he was allowed to freely ogle now.

“I like seeing you out of the trenchcoat,” Dean said, now using both hands to stroke up and down Cas’ skin. Cas tensed again. “I mean, you look good under all those layers,” Dean said hastily, afraid that the reminder of his waning Grace was too painful. “When did you get so beefy?” Dean slid his hands up to Cas’ shoulders and then down his thick arms. He squeezed them playfully as he shifted closer, letting his knees bump against him.

He leaned in close so he could almost whisper, “Wish I could see it somewhere other than the beach.”

Cas’ back became hard as marble. He lowered his head. “That’s enough, Dean,” he said softly. His voice trembled with some barely contained emotion Dean didn’t understand.

Disappointment rose up Dean’s throat like bile. “Seriously? I’m almost done!”

Cas twisted around, his face pulled into a scowl. His cheeks were flushed. “Dean! I’m an angel! I don’t need this!”

Dean pulled back. “What? I can’t even put sunscreen on you now?” he demanded.

Cas didn’t have an answer to that. He only glared, his eyes flickering with something Dean couldn’t quite figure out. Pain? Longing? Regret?

Knowing Dean’s penchant for screwing things up all the time, it was almost certainly the latter.

Cas breathed out a long, frustrated breath and rose to his feet. “I’m...going for a walk,” he said. He folded his arms over his bare chest.

“Cas,” Dean pleaded. What had he done wrong? Why was Cas so mad?

Cas shook his head. “Please, Dean.” With one last glance filled with that strange, heartache-inducing emotion, Cas turned and started walking down the beach alone.

Dean stared after him as he left. “What the hell?” he said under his breath. The sting of rejection quietly throbbed in his chest as he turned his gaze to the ocean. What had he done to piss Cas off? Had he really crossed a boundary, or was something else wrong? Cas had been so weird since he’d been back. Shouldn’t he be happy? Hell, telling Dean he loved him was the happiest Cas had ever been, right? That was part of his deal with The Empty!

Did he regret it? Did he change his mind? Maybe Cas really didn’t want to have Dean. Not for real. Maybe that was why Cas never told him how he felt before. He had to have known Dean loved him long before his deal with The Empty came along. Maybe there was a reason Cas hadn’t said anything about it before.

Maybe Cas knew that Dean would screw things up if they got together. Maybe he was trying to pull away from Dean, make it easier to break things off when it all came crashing down.

Dean stewed in his thoughts, his expression dark as he watched the waves. He lost track of time until a pair of children came racing past him, screaming in delight and startling him out of his thoughts. He pulled at his phone to glance at the time. Cas had been gone over half an hour. Way too long. Dean looked down the beach, almost expecting to see Cas trudging back up the beach back to him, but he didn’t see any sign of him. But Cas couldn’t have left left. Dean had the car keys! Quietly cursing, Dean pulled out his phone and dialed Cas’ number.

...And heard a familiar ringtone coming out of their bag.

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean growled as he hung up. He stood up, but he still couldn’t see Cas. Had something happened? What if he’d gone in the water? What if he’d gotten pulled out to sea by a riptide? Despite knowing Cas didn’t even know how to swim, worry dripped ice cold down Dean’s spine, and before he knew it he was walking down the beach along the path Cas had taken.

“Cas!” he called out, but he didn’t see him. Dean started walking faster. He scanned the beach for a familiar dark head of hair and the bright orange swim trunks Dean had picked out for him. “CAS!” He was beginning to fear the worst.

“You lookin’ for someone?” a concerned voice called out. Dean whipped his head around to a small family sitting underneath an umbrella.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, my buddy Cas.” Dean jogged over to them. “You see him walk by? Kinda beefy, kinda dorky. Dark hair, orange trunks, about yea high.” He held his palm flat about eye level.

The woman who spoke nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I saw him walking back toward town, though.” She pointed over her shoulder.

Dean furrowed his brow. Did Cas walk back on his own? Irritation flared in his chest as he forced a cordial smile and thanked the woman before jogging back the way he came. He didn’t see any sign of Cas back at their blanket either.

Dean scowled. Maybe he had walked back. Running off without a word was infuriatingly in-character for him. Dean cursed under his breath as he hastily packed up their things and started stomping up the beach toward the car.

What was even such a big deal? If Cas supposedly loved him so much, was rubbing his back that bad? Dean was trying to give him space, he really was, but the way Cas was acting, it was like he didn’t even like Dean, nevermind love him!

The thought clenched tight around Dean’s heart as he drove back to the bed and breakfast. Maybe he didn’t anymore. Maybe Cas was getting sick of him. Twelve years in each other’s lives, it was bound to happen eventually.

Maybe what angels considered love and what humans considered love was just different.

Dark thoughts still swirled in Dean’s head as he returned to the bed and breakfast and marched up the stairs.

“Dude, what the hell?!” Dean charged into their room, anger burning hot as his glare zeroed in on the angel sitting in a chair. “You can’t just go running off like that! You left your phone behind!”

Cas carefully closed the book he was reading. He was fully clothed again. “It’s not a long walk back here. I assumed you’d know where I’d gone.”

“I was worried sick about you! What if you went in the ocean and something happened?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t do that. You know I can’t swim.”

“You can’t just go stomping off whenever you get mad!”

Cas closed his eyes. “I’m not mad,” he said, though the growl in his voice suggested otherwise.

“Like hell you’re not!” Dean shot back. “So what is it? I can’t touch you now? It’s freakin’ sunscreen, Cas. Is it really that big of a deal?”

Cas’ eyes flew open. “Yes!” he said, deeply pained. “Dean, does it really matter so little to you that you’re okay with just ignoring it?”

Dean was brought up short. “Does what matter?”

“Me!” Cas plastered his hand over his chest. He almost looked like he could cry. “I told you how I felt and you insist on acting like nothing happened!”

Dean blinked. “What? That’s...that’s not true, Cas!”

“Dean! You didn’t say anything! Not once since you brought me back, have you said anything about the fact that I love you! And you may think that by ignoring it and trying to force things back the way they were before that you can lock up that Pandora’s Box again, but you can’t! I can’t. I can’t…”

Dean took a step forward, his expression darkening with confusion. “Cas, what’re you talking about?” He didn’t understand. Why did Cas look so hurt? So heartbroken? Cas loved him. Dean loved Cas. So why wasn’t he happy? What had Dean done wrong? “Cas, I--”

Cold mist curled up from Dean’s mouth.

They both went tense and still as they noticed just how cold the room had gotten. The lamp on the bedside table flickered.

“Shit,” Dean muttered under his breath. His eyes darted to the open dufflebag on their bed with all of their weapons.

He made a move for it, but a figure flickered into being in front of him. She was wearing a torn, bloody sundress. Her long, straw-colored hair was plastered to the half of her gaunt face where it was smashed in, blood staining it crimson. The ghost took a step toward Dean. Thick, dark blood dripped from her head but never reached the floor.

“Marcy,” Dean breathed. Guess she didn’t need to wait for nightfall after all.

“Coward,” the ghost menaced as she took another step closer. Dean carefully backed up. “Can’t even say it. Even when you’re hurting him. Coward!”

Dean’s eyes flickered to Cas, who was edging toward their weapons bag. He tried to make the movement quick, but the ghost noticed. With a vicious growl she flung out her hand and Cas went flying into the far wall.

“Don’t worry,” the ghost said to Cas, and the venom in her voice dropped into twisted sympathy. “I’ll take your pain away soon.”

Cas struggled to his feet as the ghost rounded on Dean again. Her outstretched hand aimed directly at Dean’s head, fingers curled into a wicked claw. But before she could touch him, Cas made another attempt at the duffle. She shrieked in fury and sent it spinning through the air toward the window. A single iron poker tumbled out of the open zipper as it flipped over and smashed against the glass, shattering it. The bag tumbled to the ground below.

Cas lurched for the poker. “Dean!” he called as he tossed it through the air, directly through the ghost. She howled and dissipated into smoke while Dean barely managed to close his fingers around the weapon. Cas and Dean stood back to back as they circled the room, Dean holding the iron poker at the ready.

“Salt,” Dean barked. “We need salt!” Except all of theirs was now two stories below. Dean silently cursed. “The kitchen! Go! I’m right behind you!”

Cas nodded and made for the door. The lights were flickering again. He and Dean narrowly made it into the hallway when their bedroom door slammed shut behind them. They raced for the stairs and nearly collided with Susan.

“Cas, Dean, what’s going on?” Her eyes were panicked, taking in the cut on Cas’ temple and the iron poker in Dean’s grip. Mist followed her words out of her mouth.

“Look out!” Dean reached for Susan, but he was flung backward by an invisible force. Marcy flickered into existence over him again. “Salt, Susan! We need salt!” he cried out before the ghost clamped its cold hand around his throat. Dean scrambled from his poker, but it had fallen just out of reach. His other hand grappled with Marcy’s, trying to pull it away.

He couldn’t see with the ghost pinning him down, but he was pretty sure he heard Susan’s footsteps racing away. Good. Even if she didn’t come back, at least she was somewhere safer. Black dots started to swim in Dean’s vision.

“Hey! Marcy!” A ceramic angel went flying through the air and smashed into a framed photo on the wall next to them, shattering the glass. Marcy snarled and whipped her head around. Her grip on Dean’s neck loosened a little, and Dean sucked in as many painful gasps as he could get.

“This is what you’re about, huh?” Cas goaded. He stood next to an accent table full of figurines, another ceramic angel in his hand, fat load of good that would do against a ghost. “Exacting revenge against shitty lovers?” Dean stretched his arm until his muscles strained. He could barely feel the length of the iron rod brush against his fingertips. If Cas could keep stalling for just a little longer... “I think anger has clouded your judgement.” Cas’ lips twisted into a bitter smirk. “You have no reason to attack Dean. Can’t you tell? He doesn’t love me.”

The statement caught Dean completely off-guard. His hand stilled as he gaped at Cas. “What?” he rasped around the ghostly hand on his throat. Didn’t love him!?

The ghost growled at Cas. She raised her arm as if to psychically toss him toward the stairway, but right at that moment, Susan barreled up the stairs, a blue canister of salt in her hand.

“I have the salt!” she said, and with panic and desperation in her eyes she blindly flung the open canister at Dean and the ghost. Salt flung in a wide arc and rained down on Marcy, who screamed and disappeared instantly.

Dean rolled onto his side, coughing weakly as he grabbed onto the iron poker and clutched it against his chest. Cas ran to him, only stopping to grab the canister of salt. He hastily drew a circle around them, draining the last of the salt on their protection ring. “Susan, get in the circle!” he commanded as he knelt beside Dean.

“You don’t think I love you?” Dean choked out between gasps for air. His head was spinning. Cas’ hand on his shoulder helped a lot, but when Dean asked his question Cas quickly yanked it away. “How could you think that?” he said, genuinely confused.

“What’s going on? Why did that...that thing look like my Marcy?!” Susan nearly flung herself into the circle with them. She clutched at her chest, casting her terrified gaze around the room.

“Her ghost,” Cas said, though he didn’t take his eyes off Dean. His brow furrowed. “Dean, you haven’t--”

“Ghost?!” Susan screeched. “Then what the hell are we doing standing here?!”

“Salt repels ghosts,” Cas replied with way more patience than Dean would have had. “She can’t come into the circle.”

“What’s going on?” Susan’s eyes went huge, her face going pale. “She...She killed those people last year, didn’t she? How do we stop her?”

“Usually burn her remains, if anything is left,” Cas said, “but she was cremated, wasn’t she? So something else is tethering her here. Perhaps a locket? Something she cherishes.”

Susan frowned, panicked eyes darting around in front of her as she mulled it over. “Her painting,” she said with a gasp. “The one in your room. She finished it right before our argument! Right before she ran out into the street and was hit by the car. It was precious to her. She put her everything into it, tried to use it to confess her love for me, and I...I was too much of a coward to say it back. That’s why we fought.”

Cas and Dean’s eyes met, and they both nodded. Dean grunted as he pushed himself to his feet, poker still clutched to his chest. “Susan, stay here. Whatever happens, don’t leave the circle. Cas, I’ll keep her busy. You burn the painting.”

As one unit Cas and Dean left the salt circle.

Immediately the hallway burst into chaos. Doors slammed shut everywhere. The knick-knacks and travel guides on the accent table went flying through the air. The lights flickered until their bulbs burst, leaving only the light of the window at the far end to help them see.

They ran.

“You don’t think I love you?” Dean demanded, because a deadly ghost hunt seemed as good a time as any to have this conversation. Some things were too damn important to wait for downtime.

“Because you don’t!” Cas snapped. He threw himself at the shut door of their room, but it was supernaturally sealed. He grunted and tried again. Marcy appeared at his side, a ghostly hand reaching for his chest, a snarl on her lips.

“Cas, of course I love you, you idiot!” Dean swung at Marcy, forcing her to disappear again. Cas slammed himself against the unmoving door. “How could you think I don’t?”

“Dean, I died--” Cas slammed into the door again. His eyes glowed faintly with his weakened Grace. “Telling you how I felt. And you said--” Another crash; the door cracked ominously. “Nothing about it since I’ve been back!”

Marcy flickered into being next to them again. Dean knocked her away with the poker.

“I thought you knew! I thought you didn’t love me and that’s why you never said anything!”

“I told you!” With one final crash, Cas burst through the door and into the room, Dean hot on his heels. They ran for the dresser. “I told you the one thing I wanted, I couldn’t have! That thing was you, Dean!” Cas yanked the painting off the wall and threw it on the ground, shattering its glass and exposing the paper.

Marcy screamed in fury and appeared in front of him. She flung him at the dresser just as Dean dispersed her with a forceful swing. He flipped the poker in his hand, readying himself to strike again while Cas scrambled to his feet, lighter freed from his pocket and held at the ready.

“Because of the Empty!” Dean insisted. Marcy’s form materialized again, and Dean raised his weapon as she approached. “You couldn’t have me because of the deal with the Empty!”

Cas fumbled with the lighter. “I can’t have you because. You. Don’t. Love me!” It finally lit. Cas threw it onto the painting, sending it up in flames.

Marcy howled in agony as her body sparked and burned. She raised her head skyward as if to escape from the rising flames, but in a flash of heat and bright orange light, she was gone, and Cas and Dean were left standing alone in the room.

They stared at each other in the sudden, violent silence. Cas’ face was a mask of frustration and pain.

“Dean, I’ve been back for months. Months. And you have said nothing about how you feel. Do not lie to me now because you feel sorry for me.” With one last heartbroken glare, Cas stomped out of the room, leaving Dean behind to stamp out the flaming remains of the painting.

Once Dean didn’t need to worry about burning the house down, he went looking for Cas. He found him outside, loading up their scattered weapons into the trunk of the Impala.

He looked shattered. His face was crumpled with pain, his eyes dull, deep furrows in his brow. It brought Dean up short. Guilt welled up so intense that Dean almost couldn’t say anything at all. Except, well, that had gotten him into this situation in the first place.

“I thought you knew,” Dean called across the distance between them. Cas stopped and turned to look at him. The bitterness in his eyes made Dean’s stomach churn. “I thought you knew,” he said again. He took a step toward Cas. “For years I thought you knew. But, you know, you’re an angel. I thought you didn’t...I thought you couldn’t…” He trailed off. Cas’ forehead was furrowed in confusion, but he was at least listening, so Dean swallowed down his discomfort and barreled forward. “I thought angels couldn’t fall in love. Except...then you died telling me you did. Telling me that the reason you couldn’t even tell me how you felt was because being happy would trigger your deal and…” He shrugged.

“You thought I was deliberately keeping us apart?”

“Because if you told me you felt the same, then we’d be together and you’d be happy and you’d die.”

The bitterness had faded from Cas’ eyes, replaced with something that Dean was loath to acknowledge looked a little bit like pity mixed with profound frustration. “So when I came back, you thought there wasn’t anything left to talk about?”

Dean scratched the back of his neck and took another step forward. “Yeah well…What else was there to say? You said you, you know, loved me. And I thought you knew that I, you know…” He trailed off.

“Dean.” Dean had never heard Cas sound so pained just saying his name. “You.” Cas scrubbed at his face. His mouth twitched as he struggled to find words for all the ways Dean had screwed up. Was continuing to screw up.

“The hoops that you jump through to avoid talking about your feelings astound me,” Cas finally said. He dropped his hand with a sigh of defeat, and Dean’s heart sank. This was it. The death rattles of a relationship that hadn’t even really started. Dean never had what he truly wanted, and he never would.

Dean ducked his head, unable to look Cas in the eye. “Right. Yeah. That’s me, alright.” He swallowed around the hard lump in his throat. The long drive back to Kansas was going to be awful.

“Say it,” Cas said softly. His words were a command, but when Dean looked up in surprise, his eyes were pleading. “Please,” he breathed, almost like he didn’t deserve to even ask, and something inside Dean cracked.

“I love you, Cas.” One step, two steps, he crossed the distance between them and threw his arms around Cas’ shoulders, clinging to him the way he wished he could have before the Empty took Cas away. “It’s you, Cas. It can only be you. It’s only been you for years. I promise.”

Cas’ next breath stuttered in his lungs. His arms wound tightly around Dean, desperate. “Dean,” he sighed, this time like a prayer.

“I’m right here, buddy.” Dean held him tightly, the way he should have when he first got Cas back from the Empty. The way Dean wanted to all these months when he thought...Well, when he was an idiot. “You can have me, you know. You already have me.”

Cas pulled back enough to look Dean in the eye. His eyes were glassy. Dean’s didn’t exactly feel dry either. ‘I wonder if I can kiss him,’ Dean thought, milliseconds before Cas did just that.

Cas’ lips were warm against his own, and Dean gasped softly as his hand wound through Cas’ thick hair to cradle the back of his head. His kiss was eager, if not clumsy, and Dean smiled a little as he let Cas take the lead anyway. When they finally pulled apart, Cas’ normally pale lips were flushed pink, and Dean’s soft smile morphed into a huge, affectionate grin.

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice surprisingly husky after a largely innocent kiss.

Cas smiled back. “Hello, Dean,” he said, and Dean couldn’t help it. He laughed. God, how he loved this angel.

“So whadya say, Cas?” Dean said when his laughter quieted. “Ready to get the hell outta Dodge?”

Cas’ hands slid down Dean’s back until they were resting on his hips. “Actually…” His gaze turned wistfully in the direction of the distant beach. “I had a different idea.”

---

“You sure this is okay, Cas?”

“Dean…”

“Cuz I mean, I want to respect your boundaries.”

“Dean!”

“And I totally understand if I’m crossing a line here.”

Cas twisted around and gave Dean and his closed bottle of sunscreen a baleful look. Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “If I get sunburned, you can get your own room tonight.”

“You’re probably not even going to sleep anyway,” Dean shot back.

“I’ll sleep just to spite you.” Cas scowled, but Dean could see the corners of his lips twitching playfully. With a rush of affection, Dean shifted so that Cas’ bare back was pressed against his chest and Dean could rest his chin on Cas’ shoulder. Cas went stiff against his body, but it only lasted a second before he practically melted into Dean’s hold. Dean wrapped his arms around him as he watched the waves.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Dean said with a sigh.

“Yes,” Cas breathed, but he wasn’t looking at the sea.

Heat rushed to Dean’s cheeks. He cleared his throat and kept his gaze solidly on the ocean. “You’re such a sap,” he grumbled weakly.

“You’ll get used to it.” Dean could see Cas’ smirk in the corner of his eye. Dean tightened his embrace.

“I dunno if I ever will,” he said quietly, a soft smile on his lips as he finally got to hold his angel.

#starrynightdeancas gift exchange #userstarry #deanwinchesteradjacent #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #destiel fanfiction #deancas fanfiction #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #castiel #katie writes things #long post

[putschki1969]

2022/02/20 Blog post by Wakana 打倒！小学生のわたし！〜BSフジさんとニューキャラクター〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ Do ❗NOT SHARE❗ on other sites ❗ Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Major Fail！Back to Being a Schoolgirl！〜BS Fuji’s New Character〜

A video with live footage from my Osaka performance of "Wakana Anime Classic 2021" which was held back in August of last year has been uploaded to the BS Fuji Official YouTube channel 🥰💕 We have compiled a few carefully selected songs so I hope you will get a sense of what the live felt like, please enjoy \ (^-^) /

It really feels like the actual live so you can properly experience my nervousness. 😂 it’s a little bit embarrassing (.-_-.) My very first Anime Classic live was two years ago during the winter time so for this live I chose a set list with a summer theme. Izumi Hall, Sumitomo Life was a a great venue ♪ Then I held another concert at Kioi Hall in Tokyo. And in December I returned once more to Kioi Hall for my birthday live. When I think about it, I realise that I had a very busy year 🤣🤣

Hello, this is Wakana (0￣ ▽ ￣0) /

The year really was jam-packed with a ton of events!! \\\\ ٩ ('ω') و ////

Speaking of which, I held my "Wakana Shark Festival Special 2022 ~ Talk & Mini Live ~" on February 6, I would like to talk a bit more about it today 😊 First of all, I did a mini live corner with Yurie Sakai-chan ♪ Since I was celebrating my  3rd anniversary as solo artist, I selected songs from various stages of my solo career, trying my best to stick to a chronological order(*^^*)

【Set List】 01. 時を越える夜に (2019.02.06) 02. 愛の花 (2019.03.20) 03. 夕焼け (2019.11.20) 04. 夢のゆくえ (2020.12.09) 05.Happy Hello Day (2020.02.26)

I started with my debut single 01. 時を越える夜に (2019.02.06). It was the first song where I tried to write lyrics so it will always be a special song for me 😊 And next I sang  02. 愛の花 (2019.03.20) from my 1st album “Wakana”. This song was written by the same people who made " 時を越える夜に". Next up a song from my "Aki no Sakura EP", 03. 夕焼け (2019.11.20). I really love this song so much because it’s so calm and comforting with its healing melody and it makes me feel nostalgic when I sing it 😊 To wrap up the live corner, I performed two songs in a row with the first being from my cover album "Wakana Covers ~ Anime Classics ~" 04. 夢のゆくえ (2020.12.09) and the last one being from my 2nd album "magic moment" 05.Happy Hello Day (2020.02.26) (^^). "Happy Hello Day" was actually released first so chronologically, it should have been performed in the opposite order but I felt the transition would be nicer if I started with"夢のゆくえ" 😋 Yurie-chan arranged all the songs for me, the arrangements had a great dynamic and delicateness that made me feel as if I was hearing not only the piano but also the sounds of other instruments! 🥺🥺✨

After the live corner, we decided to sing the "Shark Song". I was planning to challenge myself to "play the piano while singing" for the first time in my life!!!!! 😂😂😂 But then my fingers simply refused to move *laughs*_:(´ཀ`」 ∠)  And then I couldn’t even sing. To have such a thing happen to me during a live broadcast?! 😂😂 Thank you so much to everyone who was super kind and continued to cheer me on!!! 🤣 I love you so much!! 🤣🤣 Yurie-chan was also very supportive (^ ∀ ^) Yurie-sensei, thank you so much ... Please let me be your student (.-_-.) Here’s a quote from Yurie-sensei→ "The keyboard just turns into this pure white block so you can’t see anything anymore!!" She encouraged me a lot during this incident. I was really nervous about playing the piano for the first time in 25 years!!! Afterwards, I talked to my mother about this, by the way, she is a piano teacher, and she told me that I was actually able to play really difficult songs when I was in elementary school!!! 😂 Huh, seems like I have a very bad memory! Major fail! Back to being a schoolgirl! !! !! \\\ ٩ (๑` ^ ´๑) ۶ ////

After that, we had a sort of consultation meeting together with everyone to decide on the pattern and colour of my 3rd anniversary T-shirt! I asked everyone to choose from various ideas which I had thought about in advance (^-^) As a result, we decided to make a T-shirt with my drawing of a velociraptor on the front and the music sheet of our "Shark Song" on the back. Now I am trying my best to create this new character 😋 The production process is of the highest quality so please look forward to it!!! By the way, you don't have to worry, the drawing that you see here will NOT be the one that ends up on the T-shirt (that was my improvised drawing of a dinosaur during the live broadcast.)

I will leave it at that for today. It’s still cold outside so everyone, take care of yourself stay healthy \ (^-^) /

Well, until next time~ ☆ (*'▽' *) /

*** Wakana ***

#kalafina #wakana #wakana blog #botanical land #fan club exclusive content #Wakana Anime Classic 2021

[triplexdoublex]

Alpha Omega

Pairings: Colson x Reader

Warnings/Tags: alcohol, drunk, attempted rape (colson saves you before ANYTHING happens), potentially triggering dialogue about it the next morning, strangers to friends to lovers, smut, squirting 💦

A/N: Inspired by a weird dream I had and a real tweet I read, the person Jake in the fic was actually Jake Paul in my dream (ew). If you think the beginning backstory may trigger you and just want to read their friendship turn to lovers/smut, then scroll to the 2ND time skip marked with stars (***)

College mid-terms were finally over, which meant the same thing every year: the Alpha Omega annual fraternity party! It was the biggest party on campus every year, and even though it’s not really your scene, you decided to attend this year. Maybe it was the stress of mid-terms weighing extra heavy on your mind, but you needed an escape. But now, five full drinks and some shots later, you find yourself stumbling around the drink and keg area in the kitchen with a half-empty red solo cup, wondering how the hell you're supposed to find your way back to your dorm to sleep off what was obviously a very poor decision.

“Hey pretty thing,” you hear, suddenly feeling an arm slink around your waist.

“Do I know you?” you ask, disoriented and confused as your eyes try to focus on the face of the person touching you.

“The name’s Jake,” he shouts over the music, guiding you out of the kitchen and into the main party room. “You should come back to my room, you look like you need to lay down,” he says with ill-intent, but you’re too intoxicated to argue, letting him lead you up the stairs.

Even though most of your senses are impaired right now, you can’t mistake the distinct, pungent smell of weed wafting towards you as Jake escorts you down the hall once the two of you reach the top of the stairs.

“Yo, Jake!” a voice shouts from an open door, smoke billowing out as you pass.

“Hey Cols, what’s up?”

“Nothing much, man,” he says, blowing a smoke ring as he passes the blunt to his roommate Pete. “Wanna hit?”

“Maybe later, gotta get this pretty little thing back to room,” Jake answers.

“Aye, she alright? Colson questions, quickly rising to his feet.

“Yeah, pal she don’t look too good,” Pete coughs.

“Nah, man, that’s fucked up. She’s gooone!” Colson says getting a closer look at you. ‘You can’t talk her back to your room like this. That’s just wrong.”

“The fuck I can!” Jake retorts. “Look,” he says turning to you and lifting your slumped head. “You wanna go to my room with me don’t you, sexy?”

“N-nno” You slur, drunkenly shaking your head ‘Yes’

“See, she shook her ‘yes’,” Jake argues.

“Yeah, and her mouth said fuckin’ NO, Dawg!” Colson snaps back.

“Listen, I’m taking her to my room and there ain’t shit you can do about it!”

“The fuck there is!” Colson swings, his closed fist making contact with the side of Jake’s face, knocking him out cold.

***************************

The next thing you know you’re opening your eyes; an unfamiliar room and bed coming into view. You slowly sit up holding your throbbing head

“Hey, you’re awake,” says a soft voice to your right. Quickly, you turn your head in a panic to see a tall blonde sitting on the edge of the bed.

“W-who are you? Where.. Where am I?” you ask on the verge of tears.

“My name's Colson,” he reaches out for your hand. “I —”

“Don’t touch me!” You yell, scooting backwards pulling  the covers up over you when you realize all you’re wearing is a thin, white, mens t-shirt. “Where are my clothes?”

“Aye, yo, it’s not like that. Relax, listen,” he stands with his hands up backing away from you. “I slept on the couch, I just wanted —”

“Where are my clothes!?” you demand.

“You threw up on them,” he answers.

“So lemme get this right … I threw up and you took off my clo —”

“NO! No! God no!” he says waving his arms. “My roommate Pete —”

“So your roommate Pete took off my clothes…?”

“NOOO! Please, just listen. I swear I was just trying to help you and keep you safe.” The desperation in his voice causes you to let down your guard a little. “I was saying, my roommate Pete. His girl. She stayed over last night and I asked her to help get you cleaned up and changed. I saw nothing I swear,” he puts his hands up again.

You sit there in silence, confused, trying to process everything he just said.

“You really don’t remember anything from last night? Do you?” He asks, stepping slowly back towards the bed.”

“No,” you shake your head, disappointed in yourself.

He cautiously begins to sit back down on the edge of the bed then pauses “Can I?” 

You nod ‘yes’ and he takes a seat.

“Yo, you were in really rough shape last night. I’m assuming you had too much to drink?”

“Yeah,” you admit looking ashamed.

“Aye, we’ve all been there. I’m just glad you’re ok,” he smiles. “Me and my homie Pete were just up here smoking when we seen some dude we know trying to take you back to his room. I could tell you were wrecked. Fuck, you where barely conscious. I tried to tell him how wrong that was but he wouldn’t listen so I knocked him the fuck out. I didn’t know where your dorm was or if you came to the party with anyone and I wanted to make sure you had a safe place to sleep it off.”

“ Thank you. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” you apologize.

“Nah I completely understand,” he accepts your apology. ‘That’s why I wanted to be here when you woke up, I figured you might be a little confused.”

“More than a little,” you let out a small laugh.

Colson cracks a smile, then heads to his dresser, pulling out a pair of his athletic shorts. “Here, tell you what,” he says, tossing the shorts on the bed. “ Imma head out there —” he points to the door. Let you get dressed and I’ll drive you back to your dorm. Cool?”

“Cool,” you answer with a thumbs up and a smile as he steps out the room, closing the door behind him.

*******************

“Seriously, thank you so much,” you say when he pulls up to your dorm.”What can I do for you? I feel like I can’t thank you enough.”

“Nothing. Any respectable man would have done the same thing,” he says.”I can only hope that one day if god forbid my daughter even finds herself in that position that someone would do the same for her.”

“Awww, you have a daughter?”

“Yeah,” he smiles like a proud father, lifting his backside from the drivers seat to pull out his wallet. “Her name’s Casie,” he says opening to her picture.  

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he says, then tucking his wallet back into his pocket. “She lives with her mom but I still see her all the time.”

“I’m glad. You seem like you’d be a great father.” you smile. “Thanks again,” you add, stepping out of the car.

“Hey, ummm, wait,” he calls out the car window as you walk towards your dorm.

“Yeah?” you turn back to face him.

“Ain’t you in that bitch Mrs. Pearson’s creative writing class with me?”

“Oh yeah,” you thought he looked familiar. “You usually sit up in the back row right?”

“If you mean ‘take a nap in the back row’, then yeah that’s me”, he laughs.

“Well see you bright and early tomorrow then I guess,” you smile.

“Yeah, see ya,” he smiles back before driving off.

**************************************

The two of you became quite close after that. Gradually moving your seats closer and closer to be near each other in class and pairing up for projects together. You even got to meet his daughter Casie briefly once before her mom picked her up from their weekend visit. You spent a lot of your free time together.It was amazing how you could do absolutely nothing when you were together yet there was no awkward silence or moments: much like right now where you're both hanging out in your dorm just laying on your bed scrolling aimlessly through your phones.

“Oh my god why are men so stupid?” You blurt out in laughter, showing him a tweet on your phone. “This dude really had the audacity to make a whole ass thread about how to eat pussy but he obviously has no clue what he’s talking about; girls don’t squirt out of their clits!’ No wonder girls never cum and have to fake it. Ya’ll mother fuckers don’t even know where the clit IS, and I’m pretty sure squirting is just something made up by the porn industry cuz that shit never happens in real life.”

“Aye, nah I hope you aint including me in that, cuz lemme tell you, ya boy knows where the clit is!  My girls always cum,” he smirks. 

“Yeah, okay,” you roll your eyes. “How do you know they’re not faking?”

“Cuz squirting ain’t made up, that shits VERY real! Maybe not every time but it has happened so I know they weren’t faking,” he smiles. “You mean to tell me a guy has never made you cum?

“Uhn uh” you shake your head no.

“And you’ve never squirt... even ..uhh..by yourself...or with whatever toys you chicks use?”

“I mean I’ve cum alone, but never squirt. No,” you admit blushing. You and Colson have never discussed anything sexual with each other before.

“That’s bananas, dawg!” he exclaims, slapping the bed.

The room grows quiet, the silence feeling awkward for the first time in your whole friendship.

“Aye, uh you trust me right?” Colson breaks the silence

“Yeah, of course, with my life!” you exclaim.”Why?”

“Trust me enough to uhmm...show you what I can do?”

“Are--are you saying you wanna — “

“I wanna make you cum,” he blurts out, cutting you off. “If- if you’ll let me that is.”

“I...Uhmm..I..”, you stumble while thinking it over.

“Sorry… uhhh let’s just forget this whole conversation, okay?” he says ashamed, thinking he made you uncomfortable.

“Why not,” you blurt out nonchalantly.

“Wait!, why not, like… like you … you wanna —”

You silently shake your head yes biting your lip.

“Oh shit! For real?” He says in surprise, getting up off the bed. “Uhh, c’mere,” he calls you over to the edge of the bed.

You do as you're told crawling over to the edge, sitting with your legs dangling off the bed. “You know, you don’t gotta go easy with me,” you smirk waiting for him to make his next move.

“Good, I wasn’t planning on it,” he says, immediately flipping you over and yanking your panties off from under your dress.

“Ugh you boys are all the same,” you groan looking back at him assuming he’s just gonna start fucking you from behind. “Haven’t any of you even heard of foreplay?”

“Don’t tell me no one’s ever eaten your pussy from the back before?” he questions, kneeling down behind you. 

With both hands he grabs your ass making it jiggle for him before delving his tongue between your folds, his tongue exploring every crevice. You gasp at the sensation and feel his muffled laugh buzz against your core, intensifying your pleasure. Gripping your ass tighter, he alternates between plunging a firm, pointed tongue in and out of your wet slit and assaulting your clit with a series of rapid fire kitten licks. Your legs weaken with each lash of his tongue, your body slowly collapsing against the bed.

“Keep that ass up, girl,” he pauses briefly to say. You try with all your might but it’s no use; Colson has reduced your legs to a pile of jello. Roughly he tosses you onto your back, spreads your thighs open and gets back to work. Keeping his tongue focused on your clit, he slides two fingers deep inside of you, his lengthy digits perfectly pressing against your G spot. “I can feel this pussy tightening around my fingers, I know you're close, right?” He pauses to ask cockily.

All you can manage is to nod, ‘yes’, your bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth as you look down locking eyes with colson; the fiery passion in them is a stark contrast to their ice blue hue.

Colson quickens the pace of his fingers, the sloshing of your wetness audible as he brings you closer to the edge. Then resting his free hand on your mound he gently pulls back the hood of your clit with his thumb exposing the most sensitive part sending your body into convulsions when he rapidly flicks his tongue against it.

“Colson, FUCK!!! ” you scream out in pleasure as the most intense orgasm of your life rips through you. “Oh my god... oh my god,” you chant in pleasure and shock as you realize you’re actually squirting. Colson doesn’t miss a beat continuing to work you through your high, relishing in the mess you're making all over his face and fingers. When you finally stop twitching he removes his fingers and sits up with a smug look. He pulls off his shirt, wipes his glistening face with it, then tosses it on the floor and hurriedly starts undoing his belt.

“You didn’t think I was just gonna stop at one, did you?” He says cockily pulling himself from his boxers. “Awhh, fuck yeah, sooo wet and tight,” he groans as he pushes in, then bringing his hand between your two bodies, and begins to rub your clit as he thrusts.

“Mhmmmhhmm,” you moan, the bundle of nerves still sensitive from your prior orgasm.

“Told ya I could make you feel good,” he teases, his breath ghosting over that one reactive spot on your neck just behind your ear, causing you to let out a little squeak. “You like that?” He laughs, nipping at the same spot while his hips roll in like the tide, crashing repeatedly against the shore of your pelvis. He nips and kisses along your jawline making his way to your mouth, harshly tugging your bottom lip with a groan. Your tongue reaches out, searching for him as he pulls back.

“Fucking tease,” you whimper.

“That desperate to taste yourself on me?” He chaffs.

To be honest you’re desperate for everything he’s giving you right now; you’re body has never felt such pleasure. So when he offers his mouth back to you, you happily welcome the tart taste of yourself still present on his ravenous tongue. Your mouths move in a hungry rhythm, following suit with your hips. Your breaths and moans echo each others, increasing in speed and volume as climax nears. He can tell you’re so so close and he knows just how to get you there. He  grabs your legs pulling you flush against him and throws your legs over his shoulder, keeping your thighs pinned to his chest with both arms as continues to pound you.

“Mhmmm… Yeah, Yeah, Fuck me! Fuck me!”  you whine needily clawing at the sheets as you enjoy his cock from a whole new angle, slamming into your g-spot at the perfect tempo. It’s just a few more thrusts until he has you completely undone, cumming for the second time today.

“Jesus Christ, Colson” you moan breathily as you ride it out.

‘Ughggg,” he grunts loudly, quickly pulling  out, your legs falling to hips as he finishes on your stomach. 

“Can’t believe you were out here talkin’ ‘bout men don’t know where the clit is and no man ever made you cum,” he says mockingly after he catches his breath. “Nah, girl, you just been fucking with some losers. Gotta get you a real man like me.” 

“Well looks like I got myself one now,” you smirk. “ because we will definitely be doing that again!”

“Awhhh shiiiit,” he says loudly, his hand covering his smile. “ Got you addicted to this dick already, huh?” He teases.

“Shut up,Colson-,” you laugh, chucking a pillow at him “- and go get me something to clean off my stomach.”

#mkg #mkg smut #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly smut #colson baker #colson baker smut #colson x reader #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #EST #XX #Pete Davidson #colson baker x reader #alpha omega #AU #mgk fanfic #machine gun Kelly fanfic #Colson baker reader

[mattsboldyy]

Just another Girl | Jack Hughes | Part 2

Summary: Things between you and Jack have changed. A lot. You just can’t seem to get him out of your head. No matter how hard you tried. You seem to see Jack’s face in everybody. Your friend scored some tickets to a devils game... what happens next?

Requested- Nope :)

Words- 1k

Warnings- angsts, sad, very very sad, mentions of mental health issues, female reader

Requests- Open

Tagging some friends -@mysoftboybowen@ricohenrique @lovereadinghockeyy @cherrylita @dumbbrunettechild @2manytabsopen @prettyboyjackhughes @hawksgirl1

Authors Note- This fic is based of ‘Groupie’ by Cate. Enjoy!

-

-

-

It had been 2 weeks since you and Jack talked, the longest you’ve ever spent apart much less not talking to each other. You still didn’t understand what happened to Jack, well... you didn’t understand what happened to you and Jack’s relationship.

”Hi girly!” Claire, your best friend, said through the phone that was currently being held up to your ear.

”Hi Claire!” You said, shutting your laptop and getting up from your desk.

”Okay, I have something to tell you..” Claire said.

”Okay..? Is everything okay?” You said, worrying from the tone in her voice.

”I’m fine but I’m not sure if you’ll be-“ Claire said before you cute her off.

”Just spit it out!” You said, giggling.

”Okay! I have 2 New Jersey Devils tickets for tomorrow night.. I know you might not want to go because of... you know... Jack.. but you’re the only person I want to invite.” Claire said.

“Y-yeah.. I’ll go!” You said, not to sure about your decision after saying it.

”Okay! Just tell me if you change your mind.. I understand!” Claire said.

”Yeah sure! Thank you! I love you best friend!” You said, before hanging up after hearing Claire respond.

-

You put on a red oversized sweater that you got for Christmas a year ago with some black ripped jeans with white tennis shoes before walking out your apartment door and heading to your car, and then on the way to the rink. You were nervous about seeing Jack, even though he might not talk to you. Jack has caused you so much self doubt and anxiety that you’re scared to meet new people due to the fear they might just ghost you one day like Jack did. You decided you were going to go and enjoy time with your best friend anyway. You couldn’t let some boy ruin your happiness.

-

“Hi gorgeous! You look amazing!” Claire said, hugging you and looking at your outfit.

”Thank you lovely! You look amazing too!” You said as Claire handed you your ticket.

”Thanks babe, you ready to go in?” Claire asked, taking your hand.

”Ready as I’ll ever be!” You said, walking towards the ticket scanners.

-

“These are out seats!” Claire said, gesturing for you to go into the seating isle first.

”These are great.. but why so close to the glass?” You asked, Jack crawling his way back into your head.

”Come on Y/N. Don’t worry about Jack. He doesn’t deserve you. Seat right here and show him what he’s missing.“ Claire said, pushing your shoulders down in the seat.

You just sighed and sat down, waiting for warm ups to start. You were thinking about what Claire said... Jack wouldn’t miss you. He wouldn’t miss a girl with self doubt and bad anxiety that refuses to do anything that reminds her of himself. Well, that’s what you thought. Soon enough, warmups started and you say ‘86’ skate out onto the ice. You turned and looked up to the rest of the seats, avoiding the possibility of Jack recognizing you.

“Y/N! Stop it. Look at the ice.” Claire said, looking at you.

”Claire...” You said, turning around before you met eyes with Jack.

He gave you a look that you couldn’t really read. You didn’t know if it was a good look or a bad look. He just kinda looked at you and looked away. You watched him skate away. On his 2nd lap, you looked at him and he had winked at this girl sitting a few rows above you. This is why you had second thoughts about coming. You’re going to get heartbroken over and over again.

”Did he just-“ Claire said.

”Yeah. He did.” You said, looking back up at the girl Jack just winked at.

”I’m sorry.” Claire mumbled.

”It’s okay.“ You said back before watching the rest of the hockey game.

-

New Jersey ended up winning. Jack scored a goal. You still cheered even though you were bitter and didn’t want to. After the game you and Claire stayed in your seats and talked a few minutes. When you were getting up from your seats, you looked at the ice and a girl, a very pretty girl, came towards Jack who was still on the ice. Jack picked her up, kissed her, and spun her around. Your heart dropped. Why does the world hate you. After Jack put the girl down, Jack looked exactly at you and then looked away.

”What a bitch.” You mumbled.

“What?” Claire asked, turning around in the same isle to face you.

”Can we just go? Please?” You asked, with Claire nodding and walking up the steps, shortly exiting the arena.

After getting to your car, and Claire apologizing a million times, you drove home. You felt numb. You can’t believe Jack forgot you that quickly.

-

When you got home, you looked at instagram and saw that Jack posted a picture with the same girl, with the caption ‘So thankful to have you. ❤️‘ You almost threw up. How gross can they get.

You went to sleep, realizing that you need to stop thinking about Jack. You needed to get up and stop feeling sorry for yourself.

So, that’s exactly what you did

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #kay releases fics #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jack hughes x fem!reader

[kyotakumrau]

2021.03.09 USEN STUDIO COAST '目黒鹿鳴館GIG' 1st session with Die and Shinya.

As usual the staff prepared two tables and chairs for the talk event (this time high tables). Fujieda started with greetings, introductions and asked for the applause for the band members.

Shinya and Die came on stage! 💗❤️

Shinya wore brown coat, he sat next to Takabayashi. His pinkish hair looks nice!

Die had very majestic look, starting with his crazy hair, sunglasses and a suit/jacket. He sat at the right table next to F.

S: I'm Shinya, hello.

D: I'm Die. It's been a while.

To start with F asked them how they feel about being in Coast again. S said it's been 2 years since the last time, he even took a picture of the venue board. D said it really brings him back, he feels it's like coming home for them, they play at Coast so often, he wants to play there again soon.

F: usually the audience area is packed, so this feels quite unusual.

D: it's probably the 1st time I see it like that.

Next F asked them about playing at Rock-May-Kan. S said it didn't feel like it's been long time as he went there few times in private. F asked him about the songs he had to practice with Toshiya, but S had remembered them soon. D said he didn't feel the same excitement as when playing normal show, but he was really happy to rehearse and play together with the rest of members, and also to see all staff members again. He could feel things are finally moving forward.

Next they looked at the new leaflet with the Oboro promo photo published today.

S: there's one extra person.

😂

D: when you just look quickly it's like 'did Kyo got long hair?'. Normally you wouldn't expect this, to have someone lying down. Quite a challenge.

F: for someone looking the first time, I wonder what did they think.

D: this image is connected to the PV.

F: Kyo said earlier it's refreshing

D: which part of it???!

They chuckle at the Taiyou no Ao remix comparison.

D: it was more like filming the PV for Zan way back, with all the blood and being dirty.

F: what do you think S, same idea as before?

S: the world in the video also comes from the にくづきに龍 (月+龍=朧) combination.

D asked what they mean about it and F told him about S earlier talking about the kanji parts.

D: ...はい。・...okay?!

F: Like Taiyou no Ao.

D: ...はい。・...okay?!

F: How do you feel about first show in a year and 3 months?

D: ...how to say... we can't do normal concerts yet, last year we plated wothout audience, but doing nothing in this period didn't feel good, we wanted to try something. Like entering the ring (踏切??)

S then said he was informed about the new SOGAI concert by the official LINE announcement😂

S: I've never been to Tokyo Garden Theater, neither to perform or see someone, so it will be first time for me.

T: it's a new venue.

F: it's quite big.

D: Anything after that show?

T: Like?

D: Like a tour? No other announcements?

😂we want that too!!!!

Next, F moved the talk to the merchandise topic.

F: how's the bag, S?

S: I've used it for the first time today, everything fit perfectly.

T showed us the hoodie as he was wearing it - he said it was perfect because he's cold.

D: If he's cold we should give him the thingy!

(the thingy aka rechargeable heat pack/kairo)

F: ah I have it here somewhere... (searches in the bag)

D: didn't bring it?!

F: got it!💦

D: let's give it to T, he's cold!

They talked about the safe 40℃ level, then S said his recommendation is usb power strip.

F said it's perfect when fans travel as they can charge various devices at once when staying in a hotel. Talking about travel - he also recommended travel pouch, there's a hook so you can hang it, even in shower.

T (carefully): even in shower?

F: maybe not shower, but in the room.

D: with key holders, Shinya looks exactly alike.

S (counters quickly): everyone does

😂

S: but why is everyone doing this pose? (He mimics the head being very low)

D: true😆 you should try, it's like a magic trick, can you do it?

S: I won't.

D: let's try backstage.

😂

F also recommended the pass case, that it's good to hold your commuter pass and D started to joke about the commuter pass and going to Tokyo show😆

After that they moved to the questions from fans.

F: hayfever is a very popular topuc this time.

D said he doest have it and he also asked bout what symptoms people have, when they start etc. He said he's good but he's aware that for Kyo it's quite severe, they have to be careful planning recording in spring, nasal congestion can affect singing a lot.

F: Kaoru also has it, gets runny nose etc

S: For me not even a drop (he said 1 milliliter

)

D: you should really get it once.

D: "to S, happy birthday! Each year you're becoming cooler and cooler!"

S: ...you're just making that up.

D: "You're the best, lav ya. From Die from DIR EN GREY."

😆

S is the only one without an event on his birthday.

D: why wasn't there one?

F: we couldn't book a venue.

D: not even in Okinawa or something?

T: Okinawa...

D: it could work?

S: how is it possible that for 23 years there was never available venue for my birthday?

next they talked a bit about past events.

D brought a memory from the time when they went to play in Australia, they had teouble with their return flight to Japan. They were supposed to leave and arrive in Japan in the evening and start rehearsal for Budokan, but the flight got cancelled. They arrived in Japan in the morning and started rehearsal the same day.

F: it's good that you made it.

D: there are cancellations and delays when traveling abroad. And lost luggage.

F: the story from Mexico.

D: yeah, never put valuable items in the suitcase. And we have to be careful when planning flights.

F: We were in Mexico for your birthday.

D: I remember there was an interesting cake, like a ring, it didn't have a strong taste...

F: so it was bad?

D: you're so rude.

F: and there was S birthday when we were in Australia.

S: I don't remember which city.

F: a solo concert?

D: I think it was a festival.

S: I don't remember anything.

Next they talked about the age of one staff there.

They also talked about Eva, S watched just a bit, D is not interested.

D: do you watch movies?

S: no

D: are 2h too long for you?

S: yeah, I prefer dramas.

D: so 3h gonna be out of question?

S: impossible.

D: 90mins?

S: eh... maybe somehow.

D: I'm gonna look for a good suspense under 90 mins, you definitely raise the bar high!

D: ...ah this q is for/about Toshiya. about the seat arrangement when we travel.

They talked about their seating preferences, S clearly favors window side. They usually don't check the seats carefully, besides S, and once D just sat at window in the row they reserved. S then: you're in my seat (そこ、俺の...), D: sorry(ごめん)💦

😂

S also said he's not bothered by window because he doesn't really stand up that much (even on 6h flights) and he thinks it's harder for the aisle person to let window person out.

D: so it's okay if I put lots of stuff there, an open bento on the table, a drink in a cup, stretch my legs etc, no problem?

S: it's fine.

D: よし・got it！😆

D: "what do you want to do after the state of emergency is lifted?"

S: I don't go out much so nothing will change for me.

D: right. There are not many restrictions.

F said the most troublesome part is that most shops close at 8pm so going shopping is difficult.

F: "who in the band hates to lose the most?"

D (pointing at S): of course S. He even said that he doesn't get a drop of runny nose never getting sick (S just nods it's true). Like catching a cold is a big deal. So you never get a fever? Even low one like 37℃？

S: I don't.

D: you're lying right?

S:I don't.

D: you should really get one once.

But then S also nominated D as someone who hates losing, describing D's reactions when playing bowling or darts, F and T agreed with him😆

F: we have time for one more last q.

S: "I like the old logo on the badge"

(F picked it up to show it on the screen)

S: "do you have any memories related to the old logo?"

D talked about the indies bands priting stickers like that treating it like business cards.

S: Do you remember the first B&W logo?

D nods

S: do you really or you just nod?

D: I talked about it a lot before (previous event).

S: Really? I didn't know.

F: about this and your make up spot.

D: in Heartland (in Nagoya).

S: I remember that.

Then F talked about the announcements again and then asked them for a comment to fans.

Shinya: Thank you for coming. There is also the 2nd session, I don't know if I'm coming to it, but people who are coming please enjoy the event, you will have to leave the venue and enter again after waiting an hour.

Die: Thank you for coming this afternoon. Every time when I stand on a stage in Shinkiba I see the view of fans full of energy and excitement, I want to play again soon and see such view. For now we will do our best for the concert in Tokyo Garden Theater. I hope to see you there. Thank you so much for today.

#dir en grey #shinya #die #目黒鹿鳴館gig #translation #attempt at live report

[aggresivelyfriendly]

‘Tis the Damn Season- Chapter 7 Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)

Author’s Note- anybody still with me? If not, totally understand. This one is self edited- sorry I’m advance. Reblogs are still and always love!

“Are you sure I can't convince you to come home this Christmas?" Her mother's voice had just a tinge of loneliness, but Emma was set and certain.

"I think I would really like to have a Scandi Christmas this year mum! And I think the best present you could give me is to come and do it with me!"

They'd had this conversation eleventy million times. Emma knew her mum was doing so much better, and that her being in Holmes Chapel, even alone, would be ok, she'd be ok. Emma just knew they'd have so much fun in her newly reclaimed life abroad fusing old traditions with the ones they would make. Her mum was just resistant, she loved her home, was a certified home body, and now that it didn't hurt quite so bad, she loved the reminders of all the Christmases before. She was bathing in nostalgia with a smile on her face and a sweet ache inside.

Emma didn't feel the same. She'd had a fair few wonderful holidays in Holmes Chapel, but to many revolved around Harry Styles, and well, Emma's life did not revolve around Harry. Had never and didn't even have the axis centered around December 26 for a once a year moment any more.

She'd just really gotten back into her own life. Well, Emma patted herself on the back, she'd been living her way for 8 months now, that was almost as long as the 9 months she'd stayed in Holmes Chapel.

When her mother had assured her she was well enough that Emma could go to Iceland, the thought of ice capped fjords in summer thrilled her as though she was climbing them, not just studying them.

So she did.

She felt so much better, and her mother was better and she'd climbed to the top of her trail back to her own life, the one she'd made out of choice and ambition and only been sorry for in brief, lonely morning afters.

Emma wanted to share her life with her mother more than anything, certainly more than she wanted to spend a holiday in a place she now almost entirely associated with hurt. Heartache takes many forms, deep and abiding grief, the kind like she imagines phantom limbs give amputees years on. It also can hurt like a quick sharp mishap, a slip of the knife, full of crimson pain and stitches.

She'd had both together and then his deep cut on top of the other last Christmas. The wound was too fresh to go back at the moment. The good memories were still colored crimson. She needed to wait until her lover's memory flashed with true colors instead of red or blue. Her father's memory was cozier and longer, it was wrapped around the warm pink of her mother, but even it was still too tender.

She needed time.

Emma also had no idea where Harry was these days. She'd cut off all methods of inquiry.  She wasn't staying up late googling even, ever, not anything. Not his naked or Camille's. They'd be going on well into their second trip round the sun by now. Probably more deeply in love than he openly confessed to her. Emma didn't need evidence of it. It just opened the stitches she'd sewn herself.

So, no Holmes Chapel, no Google alerts or text messages. She'd blocked his number.

"Well, I suppose if you insist, we can try Amsterdam for Christmas." Her mother covered the sigh at the end of that sentence and Emma appreciated it. She suppressed a wry smile. Her mother could also still hear it in her reply she was sure.

"Oh mum! You won't regret it. It will be so lovely! I can't wait. I'll meet you at the airport, then we will go to my favorite cafe and take a snow walk. It will be picturesque. You'll fall in love, you'll see."

"Alright, darling. I'll give it a chance. I just hate to miss Anne's party two years in a row." Emma cringed and was happy this was not a video chat. She almost gasped and blew her cover when her mum said. "Won't you miss Anne's party? You're close with Gemma, and" she breathed while her mother hesitated, "and Harry?"

God, did everyone know?

"It'll be fine mum. I'll call Gemma. She'll understand."

She would, after they'd had that conversation the last time they'd spoken.

Gem had not really cornered her so much as insisted they get out of the house as often as possible from the day after Boxing Day until she'd left to head back to London.

She, the lovely friend that she was, didn't actually bring it up until she was back for Mother's Day. And she waited until Emma told her she was headed back to her program in the fall with a twinkle in her eyes even Emma knew had been long gone for too long.

Ever the blunt one, Gemma didn't even cozy up to the subject, "so did you break his heart or did he break yours?" She took a big sip of her cider and leveled her state over the rim at Emma.

Emma could feel her face blanching or heating or giving some indication who's heart was broken. Her elegant side step to that mine field was, "huh?" Then a moment later. "Who are you talking about?" To Gemma's patient silence.

"Alright, if that's how you want to be." Gemma playfully rolled her eyes. "You and my brother are not stealth, at all. You would make eyes at each other all night at my mum's and then disappear for the same amount of time. Remember I live with him."

"Do not." Emma didn't bother to deny it.

"I suppose not really, but as much as any one "lives"with him, I do over Christmas, and did for most of my life. I know when he's smitten with someone, and when he's got them around his little finger too." Gemma snorted and ate a chip. "His stupid walk even changes, all of a sudden he swaggers and walks hip first. It's gross!" Her face screwed up.

Emma tried to remember if she had ever seen this hip walk. She supposed she had when he'd walk towards her at the Boar's Head. Or occasionally when he'd corner her by the mistletoe.

"It's not gross." Slipped out.

"That right there," Gemma pointed. "Is gross. Your face all soft and flushed for my little brother. Bleach!" She sighed mixed with a bit of good humor. "But I suppose that means he broke your heart. I can't believe he just turned up with another lady. Did you at least know? I feel like I always know way to much about my brother's sex life."

"Huh?" Emma laughed.

"I just feel like I know way too much about his sex life, due to blind items and pap shots. Thought you might feel the same."

"It's not so simple as that, really. I knew because of that, about his girlfriend." Still couldn't say her name. "But I think he felt like I'd broken his heart, if I'm honest. And That's why he turned up with her. To hurt me back, in case I hadn't seen."

"Did you."

"Certainly not on purpose. My heart and head and life were in shambles, still are, and he made an assumption, and never let me explain."

"Why don't you explain to me."

So she did, haltingly, Emma talked about it all, tears on her cheeks about her dad and then her mum, and even Harry. The sad footnote of loss in a story of grief.

"Why didn't you just tell him?" Gemma asked the question Emma asked herself a lot.

"I guess, I couldn't say it and I couldn't text it. And it confirmed to me that he really only knew me so little, that he could think I'd take advantage of him."

"Did you ever think that was more to do with how other people have treated him than you? he's had to learn to expect the worst of people he wants to trust?"

"Don't make me feel bad for him. Remember? He broke my heart and found someone new. Had the audacity to move on before me!" Emma tried to joke.

"I think, I think you guys got into a mess and never bothered to clean it up until it was so unkempt you couldn't find the good parts." Gemma said after a quiet, mirthless moment.

"Oh no!" Emma tapped her head. "I kept all the good parts."

"Firstly, blech, I wish I could bleach that smile from my head, but 2nd-Is that enough?" Gemma asked.

"It'll have to be, I suppose." She swallowed the moisture in her eyes, "he told me he loves her. Straight to my broken face. Then piled on how he never got the time to love me."

Gem looked curious, then cautious, "I think he does. But it's cuz he wants to. Wants that desperately, to be in love. It may be some leftovers from you."

"Yeah?" Her eyes really pooled then and she bat her cheek to stop more from swarming. "Well I'll have to take that as cold comfort then, that she gets the seed of love he wanted to grow with me."

"I'm sorry. Sure he is too." Gemma sighed. "I'm so sorry for all of it."

"Yeah, yeah." Emma leaned on her friend, her only real one right then. "Me too."

And they left it at that. Emma's eyes were swimming and Gemma blinked a few times too rapidly. They hoisted their glasses. "To almosts!" Emma said.

"To dad's!" Gemma said. Then they both did cry.  Talked about Robin's diagnoses. Then it was Emma's turn to be the shoulder, to bolster.

Life went on, the way it always seems to do. Emma and her mom laughed more and then her mum even laughed on her own. By that summer, they both stood on their own two feet, without leaning on each other, except when they wanted to.

By June, there was no reason to stay.

"So, are your roommates excited to have you back?"

Her mum was making tea and packing her sandwiches.

"Mum, I actually had to find mew roommates. The others had to fill the room I was in." She could see the down turn of her mum's lips from the side. Guilt was heavy. "It's not a big deal. The people I'm rooming with are other grad students, I know them. And it's works for the budget. Mum, you know I'm not riding the bus to camp right? I don't need a sandwich. There will be food at the airport and on the plane?"

"Won't be home cooked." Was all she said.

This wasn't for her then. It was some sort of amends, or a thank you. Like the tea she had taken to bringing to her to her room when she woke up, and before bed.

"That's true." Emma kissed her cheek, "I'm gonna go finish packing." She ate the sandwich on the plane later.

Counting bags, she frowned. She'd acquired a lot. She sincerely hoped the bag wasn't as heavy as her heart.

Emma was going to miss Holmes Chapel.

She did, surprisingly as much as she missed school the first 6 months she was home. Maybe, those feelings were tangled up in other events, the other missing pieces of her former puzzle.

I'm any case, she found herself better at keeping in touch

"So, any cute boys in Amsterdam?" Gemma chuckled over the phone one mid December afternoon.

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" Was Emma's laughing response.

"I do, I really do." And Gemma, the blunt tongued, fierce hearted girl sounded suspiciously like a woman in love. Then she pretended to complain, because she was Gemma, about how They were both a little spoon, pretending to be annoyed about it.

"I'm really happy for you." Emma interrupted, meant it, even though she still didn't know if there were any cute boys in Amsterdam because she was still hung up on the cute boy who spent Christmas in Holmes Chapel.

Gemma must have picked up the stain of blue in her voice, "Hey, Emma, I think maybe I should tell you something-"

The buzz from her hallway door went then, and Gemma didn't get to finish.

"Hey Gem, my flat mate lost her key. I'll have to ring you back. Tell me then?"

And then it was Christmas, well Christmas Eve and she was at Schipol with a giant sign that said, "Katherine the great( est mum)!"

"Oh, bless you! Could you have made a bigger sign?"

"I'm sure I could have tried. Maybe found some glitter. Think a flat mate has the body sort somewhere." Her mum narrowed her eyes and pinched her cheek.

"Well, if you've finished embarrassing me, show me this dreadful country that's not England and all it has in terms of festive cheer."

"Let's go get some nuts then!" Emma laughed.

"I beg your pardon?" Her mum put on the prude and Emma laughed at her over the top expression as they made their way to the train to the city center.

Her famous Danish bakery was the first stop. "I thought we would have a taste test. We can rate them."

"Do you already have a favorite?" Her mum asked.

"Yeah." Emma thought about the trifle Harry's mum made and that he'd sneak to the boar's head to feed her in bed. It had only taken him watching her eat it once for him to recognize her glee. It was his favorite too. "But, I want to know what yours is!" Emma brought her memory and watering mouth to the present moment.

They ate their way through Christmas Eve And decorated her Kerstbomen. "Sorry the tree is already up. They were starting to disappear for purchase, but reappear in everyone else's windows! I had to grab one."

"Oh, no dear, it's alright. And actually, I brought a gift from Anne. I saw her the other day and had been complaining about you making me come all the way over here-"

"It's an hour flight!"

"Well, I suppose it will do, but it's not home."

Thank god.

"Anywho, she came by the day after and brought a present for your tree." Her smile was so expectant, Emma was expecting the worst. "It's so important to have good friends." Her smile was cryptic. What friends- Anne to her mum or Gemma to her? Who was the present actually from.

The box was festive. And wrapped beautifully just like Anne's house was always decorated so well. Emma set it aside, "I'll open it tomorrow mum, On christmas, at the proper time."

"Oh no! You must open it now. Gemma told her mom it was for your tree." Ah, mystery solved. Gemma was great at wrapping. When Emma opened it, her heart stopped a full beat.

At first she thought it was the frog, the one she'd gotten for him. That he was giving it back to her like a seal on their relationship that never was. But when she picked it up, she realized it was a proper ornament, not just ornamental. It was a frog, holding a heart.

What Did that mean, whose heart was it?

His for her? Or hers back where he decided it belonged.

"Where will you put it?" Her mother interrupted her train of thought.

"Um, dunno," she moved around the tree to an inconspicuous place. "I guess here." She shrugged.

"Oh no, dear. It's by far the cutest one we have." Her hand scanned over the other ornaments, a hodge podge of beloved ones and ones from Christmas markets. "It goes here." Her Mum stood and took the ornament from its hidden place, placed it front and center. "Let's get the rest up and take a picture."

She'd gotten her mother an aura frame for Mother's Day and she was now obsessed with adding to the Revolving cue of photos.

"Course, ok." Emma ripped her eyes from the frog, but they kept drifting back to it.

It was an hour of a little too much wine and her mother's cheer. It lightened her spirit and got her mind off it's wandery at Harry's intentions, until after silly smiley photos and teary eyed huggy ones, her mum said, "now let's take one for Anne and Gemma. Show them how nice it looks.

Emma thought she'd done a good job at the photo, at arranging her face the way it was supposed to look.

She must have been wrong.

Later, a number she knew by heart but had no current contact for came through. "Your smiles fake. Do you not like it at all?"

She didn't answer it on Boxing Day, or the day after, it wasn't until New Year's Day that she realized she'd blown her resolutions to Smithereens before they could even uphold their name.

All she'd texted back to his cold question was, "how come you're the only person who can always tell."

She may have never noticed she'd done it, with the way her group chats were going off, except he replied before her hangover even subsided.

#harry styles #Harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles fanfic #tis the damn season #song fic #ttds #chapter 7 #christmas (baby please come home)

[cycwrites]

WIP Things aka Unofficial Fic Tease

In order to remind myself that I’ve left all of you hanging for the rest of my trilogy rewrite, I thought I would post my unbeta’d, unedited, good with the bad chapter 1 for the second movie. I also have hope that it will make me feel guilty for taking so damn long and get back to it. Especially since I’ve basically closed myself off from writing (and the muses) and I’m trying to pry the doors back open because I really do miss sharing my stories with you guys.

I wrote this well over a year ago, along with a 2nd chapter that deals with the Dean’s office, and really just hope you like it. 

--------

About Damn Time 

Chapter One: So That Happened

Word Count: 2600 -------- ~B~

At the end of Beca’s junior year, two things of note happened.

First: Chloe, once again, made the decision to stay with Beca and the Bellas and failed Russian Lit for the third time.  Beca had tried to talk her out of it, torn between wanting Chloe to move forward in her life beyond Barden and guilt that she was relieved they wouldn’t have to figure out how to work a long distance relationship. She wasn’t ready to try that and couldn’t imagine leading the group without her.  But Chloe had insisted this was where she’d wanted to be and she didn’t feel like she was missing out on anything.

Second: The Bellas were asked to perform at President Obama’s 50th birthday celebration at the Kennedy Center on August 8th.

Beca had laughed when the call had come through the never used landline at the Bella house.

“Good afternoon, this is Mack Johnson and I’m calling on behalf of the White House…”

“Yeah right. Nice try, Jesse.” She hung up and pulled out her cell phone as she walked into the kitchen. Pausing by the counter she typed out a quick message to him.

Beca: I’ve gotta give you points for originality though. You almost sounded like an actual adult.

She poured herself a glass of lemonade before he answered.

Jesse: I’m going to take that as a compliment and ignore the wound to my manly pride, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Beca: Whatever you say, ‘Mack.’ If you’d said you were calling from anywhere but the White House I might’ve let you keep talking.

Instead of answering via text, Jesse called her.

“Are you day drinking, Mitchell?” Jesse clucked his tongue. “Without your lesbro? I’m hurt, Becaw.”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Beca lifted her glass and took a sip. “What inspired your call today?”

“Uh, your cryptic and confusing texts to me, of course.” Jesse chuckled. “Want to clue me in?”

Beca sighed. “Man you’re committed to this.”

“To what?”

Beca set her glass on the counter. “Fine – you just called me and –” She jumped as the phone in the living room rang for only the second time in her years at Barden. “Pretended… to be… from the White House.”

“I thought you said you weren’t drinking?” Jesse laughed but it sounded distant as Beca watched Chloe answer the phone.

Her girlfriend’s blue eyes went wide and locked on Beca’s as she said, “I’m sorry, did you say you’re calling from the White House?”

“Jesse?” Beca said absently.

“Yes, Beca?” His voice took on an echo as all the blood drained from her face.

“I gotta go pass out now.” She swallowed dryly. “I’ll call you later.”

“Beca wa-”

Beca had remained frozen in the kitchen while Chloe became more and more animated, frantically scribbling down notes on the notepad sitting beside the phone, though her voice was carefully calm and collected. Then she’d run into the kitchen, screaming and jumping in excitement and talking faster than Beca’s shocked mind could process. Drawn by the commotion like a frat boy to a kegger, the rest of the girls soon joined the chaos while Beca still stood frozen by the counter as they swirled around her.

The school had allowed them to stay on campus through the summer so they could discuss songs and choreography. The time had been a whirlwind of security checks and practice and everything they planned needed to be vetted by the performance organizers. Of course, since they’d come to the Bellas after their third ICCA win in a row, there weren’t any real problems.

Until the night of the performance when one set of tangled silks and a desire for no panty lines wrecked everything.

No pun intended.

~B~ Sunday, August 24th, 2014

Beca lay on their bed and stared at the ceiling, listening to Chloe pace beside her.

“I’ve ruined everything.” Pace to the head of the bed. “Destroyed our reputation.” Pace back to the foot. “Made the Bellas a joke.”

Beca sighed and pushed herself up on her elbows. “Chloe. It’s a capella. It’s already a jo-” She stopped as Chloe spun to face her, outraged. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” Beca tried a smile. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.” She let it slip when Chloe just stared at her and Beca dropped back down to gaze at the ceiling. “Won’t make that mistake again.”

“I’m the one who gave Amy the green-light to do ‘Wrecking Ball.’” Chloe resumed pacing.

“Because, despite most of her claims, she actually had done some training on the silks before coming to the states.” Beca countered, as she had for the past three weeks. “She was good on them and never once in our rehearsals did she get tangled up.”

“But-”

“No.” Beca cut her off and sat up, pulling her legs up to sit cross legged and face her. “We all agreed to let her do it. It was a group vote.” She softened her voice and held out her hand. “This isn’t all on you, Chlo.”

With a sigh, Chloe took her hand and let herself be tugged onto the bed. Beca stretched back out and Chloe settled against her side. “It feels like it.”

“That’s because you’re the one who looks out for us.” Beca gently rubbed her back. “No one could’ve predicted this, love.”

“No…” Chloe said grudgingly. “But…”

Beca cut her off again. “There’s no buts.”

“Except Amy’s.” Chloe huffed, tension that had begun to fade making her stiffen up again in Beca’s arms. “All over the news.” She groaned. “Why didn’t I just use the cloth I was freaking holding to cover her up?”

“Same reason I didn’t,” Beca said reasonably, having heard a version of this several times before. “My mind went blank and I couldn’t move. I just… kept waiting to wake up.”

“Same.” Chloe pressed her nose to Beca’s shoulder. “I still am. This is such a nightmare.”

“She feels bad.” Beca offered. “It was her idea to do that press conference.” She winced as Chloe snorted.

“Yeah, where she then tried to show her ‘silk burn’ to the entire world.” Chloe sat up and pushed herself off the bed. “Again.” She resumed pacing and Beca’s mind hunted around for anything she could say to defuse things.

“At least we saved Aubrey’s college legacy from Pukegate?” Even as the words were out of her mouth Beca knew they were stupid and wrong.

“And ruined ours with Muffgate.” Chloe snarled.

“I wish I could find the asshole that came up with that. Bet it was those podcast people and of course everyone else jumped on it.” Beca made a face. “It was an accident and eventually there will be another crisis for them to focus on.” She slid over to the edge of the bed and swung her legs over. “It won’t be forever, Chlo.”

Pace, turn. “But tomorrow we go see the Dean.” Pace, turn. “With those podcast people who are apparently actually part of the Collegiate A Cappella Association.”

“They’re still weird and he’s an ass.” Beca stood up and stretched as she heard the door open at the bottom of the stairs. “Think you’ll be able to enjoy yourself at dinner tonight?”

Chloe stopped by the small table they inherited from Aubrey and took a deep breath. “Of course. It’s Amy’s birthday. I’m not going to ruin it for her.” She flashed Beca a small grin, the first in an hour. “Why do you think I’m up here instead of downstairs?”

“Speaking of,” a new voice said from the stairs. “There’s maybe… A situation.” Jessica smiled apologetically when they both looked at her as she reached the top.

Beca sighed. “Of course there is.”

“Do I even want to know?” Chloe pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Probably not, but Stacie sent me to get you.”

“Coward,” Beca muttered. “She knows I can’t hit you because you’re too nice.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, quick like ripping off a band-aid.”

“Amy’s sitting on the couch. With a towel on her lap.” Jessica hesitated.

“That’s… Why is that a big deal?” Chloe asked, confused.

“She’s… commando. Because of her silk burn.” The blonde’s shoulders bounced once but she didn’t say anything else.

“I swear to fucking god I’m going to glue underwear on her,” Chloe muttered under her breath.

Beca was struck by a horrible thought. “Is she sitting on another towel?”

“We were afraid she’d show us if we asked.” Jessica looked at Beca. “That’s when Stacie sent me to get you.”

“Why do I have to do it?” Beca knew she was whining but couldn’t help it.

“Because you’re the captain.” Jessica shrugged again. “You can threaten her with cardio if she tries to flash us again.”

“Yeah but Amy doesn’t always listen to me and I don’t want to have flashbacks.” Beca reluctantly headed for the stairs as Jessica started back down.

“Birthday or not…” Chloe muttered as she followed.

“I’m sure Lilly has a hot glue gun you can use,” Beca mused, not surprised to find Ashley hanging out in the hallway when they left the attic.

“Don’t tempt me.” Chloe didn’t say anything else the entire trip down the stairs.

Beca rounded the corner, passing Jessica and Ashley who had stopped in the entry and came to a halt herself, Chloe running into her back.

All she could see was the back of Amy’s head but she appeared to be looking straight at Lilly who sat cross-legged on the ottoman and staring back.

“Do I even want to know?” Beca turned her head toward Jessica but didn’t take her eyes off the scene.

“I didn’t ask that either,” came the whispered reply.

Beca took a bracing breath then walked into the living room. Despite the reassurance that the covering towel existed, Beca didn’t relax until she saw it for herself. It was nothing personal against Amy, but Beca just didn’t want to see any of the Bellas naked, Chloe being the obvious exception. You never knew when the visual would pop back in your head and Amy had already shown up enough in the past few weeks to last a lifetime.

“Amy.” Beca looked up at a sound from the kitchen and saw Stacie leaning in the doorway with Cynthia Rose and Flo sitting at the center island.

“Captain.” Amy didn’t turn her head or avert her gaze.

“Are you guys in a staring contest?” Beca frowned, looking between the two women. “And if so why?”

“I don’t know,” Amy lifted one shoulder. “All I know is she hasn’t blinked since she sat down and why take the risk of losing.”

Beca felt her eyes twitch at the thought. “Jesus, please cut it out before my eyes start watering.” She stepped between them and Amy closed her eyes in relief.

“Thanks, Shawshank. That was starting to burn.” She started to lift one corner of the towel to wipe her eyes and Beca threw out her hand.

“Nope. That stays there.” Chloe said it before Beca could.

“Please tell me you’re sitting on another towel.” Beca sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

“Of course I am!” Amy actually looked indignant. “I’m not a heathen, Beca.” She rolled her eyes. “The pants I want to wear to dinner are tight, so I’m giving my bits time to breathe first.”

“Now that’s in my head.” Cynthia Rose muttered from the kitchen.

“That’s in all our heads,” Ashley said from the doorway behind them.

“You could always wear that blue skirt,” Chloe offered diplomatically. “That way you’re not uncomfortable for your birthday dinner.”

“I do look hot in that.” Amy thought about it while the rest of them made sounds of agreement. “Alright, you’ve swayed me. And as it’s almost that time, guess I’ll go upstairs and change.” She started to stand as Beca moved back then paused. “If you’d all turn around and give me some privacy while I wrap?”

Beca rolled her eyes as she turned to face the front window that, thankfully, had the curtains drawn. “That’s what you get for being half naked in the public areas of the house.”

“I got bored in my room.” Beca heard Amy stand up and the rustle of fabric. “Alright, I’m decent.”

“Hey!”

Beca jumped at the unexpected shout and looked over her shoulder. Stacie had come out of the kitchen and was pointing at the couch.

“That’s my favorite towel!” Outage filled her face. “I was looking for that for over a week!”

“It’s also the softest towel in the house.” Amy said as she picked it up, tucking the other firmly around her waist. “It’s the only thing that doesn’t hurt when I’m sitting.”

A choked sound from behind her brought Beca’s eyes back around to Chloe, who was biting the inside of her cheek and trying not to giggle. “I’m sure she’ll wash it before she gives it back.”

Beca tried to choke back her laugh and ended up sounding like a pug with a cold as she snickered into her hand.

“I think…” Stacie sighed. “Happy Birthday, Amy. It’s all yours.”

“You sure, Stretch?” Amy threw the towel in question over her shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll need it for much longer.”

“Yup.” Stacie nodded emphatically. “I’ll go get another one this weekend.”

“Thanks, Stacie.” Amy smiled at her before her lips twisted slightly. “Sorry I didn’t ask first.”

“’S okay.” Stacie shrugged. “Now go get changed so we can celebrate your day.”

“Are you allowed to give me orders on my birthday?” Amy mused as she headed for the stairs.

“Probably not,” Beca said. “But I’ll probably do it anyway.”

“Bossy.” Chloe whispered behind her and Beca flashed her a grin.

“Alright.” Beca clapped her hands once. “Show’s over, let’s go get our party outfits on and get some grub. We’ve got a Bella to celebrate.”

Stacie walked past her, shaking her head. “Bossy.”

Beca let her head fall back as she stared at the ceiling. “I can’t with you two.”

“What?” Stacie paused in the door to the entry. “Did we do the thing again?”

“Yup.” Chloe pushed Beca toward the stairs. “I called her that thirty seconds ago.” She high fived Stacie over Beca’s shoulder when the tall woman grinned and held out her hand.

“Score one for us.” Stacie laughed and started up the stairs.

“I hate you guys.” Beca said weakly as she followed.

“Liar,” Chloe laughed and ran her hand down Beca’s back.

“Maybe.” Beca let Chloe go before her.

“Definitely.”

“Yeah yeah,” Beca waved her up the stairs, unable to help admiring the way Chloe’s muscles flexed as she moved. “But seriously, my stomach just woke up and if I don’t feed it soon it’s going to take over the world.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Stacie saluted as she stepped into her room.

“Smartass,” Beca threw back.

“And you love it.” Stacie closed the door with a laugh.

“Stop flirting with Stacie and let’s go change before you get hangry.” Chloe took her hand and tugged on it.

“She wishes,” Beca muttered but followed Chloe up to their room, ignoring the ‘Often’ that came from Stacie’s room behind them.

‘She’s got bat hearing, I swear.’ Beca thought to herself as she went to the closet to get her outfit for the night.

Tomorrow was still looming over them, but Beca pushed it all away, determined to think about Amy and the Bellas for the rest of the night.

It was one mistake and they’d just won three years in a row. Surely they weren’t in that much trouble.

Right?

#bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #all the other bellas #rise 1 #cyc fic tease #cyc motivational seeker

[randombtsprincessa]

Backfire

All Rights Reserved. © RandomBTSPrincessa, Tulips98.

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Park Jimin x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 3.9k

Genre: Smut

Rating: Mature (18+)

Summary: There is a little misconception between you and Jimin. What do you do? You fuck your brother’s best friend in the bathroom.

Warning: Frenemy to Lovers, Jimin exists, teeny tiny jealousy on both ends, Yoongi makes an appearance, oral (female), mild dirty talk, protected sex, bathroom sex.

A/N: To my love, to my angel, to the darling serendipity, a happy birthday, Park Jimin.

The simmering, roiling heat of a flame lit deep underbelly, the constriction of your chest just because you set your eyes on something vile, the natural grimace that twisted your face and brought lines to your forehead…

All were reactions you were well familiar with; all pertaining to deep, genuine hate.

Which is ridiculous because you shouldn’t – can’t – hate something that has nothing whatsoever to do with you; or so you’d thought.

Well turns out, you can hate someone who has nothing to do with you in the simply case that it is Park Jimin. Park Jimin had nothing to do with you, absolutely nothing.

And yet his name brought fiery heat to the apples of your cheeks, flushed down to your chest.

All he was; was your dearest brother’s best friend. That’s all he was. He was just some guy your brother had known for ages, trusted explicitly, would always have his back and most likely throw a punch for. That’s it. Nothing very special for two bros, who would die for each other?

His involvement with you should end with that. You’d think so, right?

But Park Jimin was everywhere.

Park Jimin was the usual crème de la crème of the male species. He had fluffy raven hair that he had a habit of running his fingers through. Plump cheeks and lips gave his face a childish glow but his eyes…

His eyes would keep you up seven nights in a row and then some. They were a flecked deep mahogany; that radiated mischief and softened in giggles at the same time. All of that would still be okay to pass off – after all, hot men weren’t exactly a lacking commodity, it was the good hot ones that were rare – if not for the fact, that there was nothing usual about Park Jimin.

Your brother Dean, bless his heart, had never managed to grow up from the freshman boy phase that miraculously slipped past the years into graduation. You had followed suit at the same university, effectively moving in with him in his recently bought apartment as he started his interning in and out of the college odd jobs.

He also forgot to mention that aside from him and you, one other person was practically always there.

You had finished homework one day, venturing out to rummage through the kitchens for something to eat until your brother returned home with takeout for dinner when you had first seen him.

A simple black shirt and jeans and head faced you, a box of fruit loops upended over a wide open mouth. You had squeaked, ducking behind the sink. You were only wearing a pair of shorts and a huge shirt with nothing underneath and a stranger stood in your new home.

When he turned, mouth bulging from the amount of cereal in his mouth, his own eyes had widened and he’d choked, coughing out almost his entire mouthful.

“Fuck, I didn’t know there was a girl in here.” He’d spat out.

Of course, the first few moments where you’d taken the liberty to run straight to your room and get properly dressed, you’d made a few keen observations. Ok, it was only one.

The guy was smoking hot.

Dean had arrived when you came back out, painstakingly admitting to having completely forgotten about mentioning you to his friends and vice-versa. Jimin stood behind his shoulder, an easy smile on his face when you shook hands.

Now…you hadn’t been planning to have anything to do with him necessarily. He was still your brother’s friend and the small flicker of excitement you’d felt when Dean mentioned that Jimin was almost always there was mostly harmless.

So, when you heard your brother teasingly warn off Jimin from flirting with you and the retort was a short, ‘no thanks, I have enough girls lined up to keep my mind off your baby sister,’ your smile vanished, replaced by a disgusted grimace.

As lax as Dean was and as open about his relationships he was, you hadn’t thought that he’d be associating with a fuck boy.

You didn’t know when your initial disgust and disdain of Park Jimin turned into full blown hate. Perhaps it was the incessant snark, the teasing…

Perhaps it was the fact that Dean hadn’t been lying about him always being there. The times when you had a boy over, even if it wasn’t a date – he was there, on the couch, stuffed with popcorn. The times you would mention going out to a café, or an arcade with a guy, he happened to be there – spotting you all too easily and coming over to say hi.

Or maybe, it was just him being the general hot asshole. He dripped sin and no matter how hard you tried to not notice and move on from the place where you had nothing better to do but look at him, he would tease you about how he riled you up.

You couldn’t escape him.

Which made no sense…because his demeanor meant that he wasn’t a fan of yours either. You spat back retorts as fast as a gun, had compared his dick to one of the moldy carrots in your brother’s fridge, and had once physically pushed him away from a guy you had made the mistake of bringing home.

You were sure, he enjoyed it. There was something about the flare in his eyes that made you curious, wondering if maybe he was doing it on purpose…if the push and pull was something he found exciting.

You wouldn’t be surprised at all if he did.

The same held true for your place of work.

You had scoured and scored a job as a barista at the café and bakery nearest Dean’s apartment. The situation was lovely, the workers were friendly and the pay wasn’t unfair. You were happy in donning on a simply powder blue apron and doing the works behind the register every day.

Right up until Park Jimin began to show up there as well.

At first, you thought it was because Dean was the one dragging him there; having already warned you he was going to show up and scout out your new work place – just in case. You only wished he had done without Jimin hanging about, his own head swiveling about inquisitively before landing on you, sizing you up.

You couldn’t deny the flush of heat around your neck at his curious gaze and that made you angrier.

He had started to parade around in all his glory even without your brother about, smarmy smirks throw at you while he waited for you to serve him. He would blow kisses, raise an eyebrow challengingly when you threw disparaging looks at him.

And then one fateful day he took it too far.

He stood in line at the counter, you saw him first thing when you handed out change to the customers while another co-worker, Nina, handed out the orders.

You completely turned away from the counter when it was Jimin’s turn, not catching his eyes but ears working on hyperactive as he flirted heavily with the other girl.

Nina, for all her sweetness, blushed, stammered and nearly messed up his order which had you rolling your eyes in disgust. God, he wasn’t even that good. Why were girls all over themselves for him? You could at least give as well as you got.

The final thought had your head snapping up – in horror at you. Where had that come from? Since when had you wanted to be at the receiving end of Jimin’s flirtations? Granted, you always were the one he’d pick on, zero in on, whenever he was around but he did to annoy you.

You looked over your shoulder, finally meeting Jimin’s eyes, which were already on you. Nina had still not managed to get his drink done right, adding a bit too much sugar, you’d noticed than Jimin took but he only grinned – waving a hand to show it was all fine as he dropped a couple bills on the counter.

And then he threw you a cheeky, exaggerate wink, before turning on his heel and retreating back to his customary table.

That’s it.

You snarled to yourself mentally, tapping on Nina’s shoulder a little harder than necessary.

“I’ll do the customers now, you can handle the register.”

If there was anything off about your voice or your face, Nina didn’t mention it. She was probably way too into thinking about Jimin to be very observant anyway. She obediently moved to the other side of the counter, letting you stand to the front, now facing the rest of the line.

You couldn’t feel Jimin’s usual gaze on you, for the most part whenever you glanced at him; he was busy staring intently at his phone.

So, you swiftly handled and dispensed the customers, until one guy walked into your line of sight, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat and a nervous look in his eyes.

“Hi,” He said first thing.

You put your server smile on. “Good morning, sir. Welcome and what may I get you today?”

“Just a simple black coffee, for Min Yoongi,” The man said. You thought you caught him burying his hands further into his pockets, your smile flickering uncertainly.

“Just a simple black…? No additions?” You clarified, pen hovering over the order slip.

“Yeah no, it’s just it’s embarrassing…I’ve never had coffee in a café before, I always have my homemade blend. But my coffee maker broke so…”

None of the above information was necessary, but you could feel a small smile twitching at the edges of your lips. He was cute, shy and blushing.

“A simple black,” You scribbled the order, passing it to the kitchens, “Perhaps, you should have that machine looked at,” You laughed.

The answering laugh was slow but bubbling. “Well, I mean I could wait a few days – depending on the coffee here.” He said.

“We do have good coffee.” You considered, lowering your voice as you motioned for him to move to the checkout line. A simple black didn’t take much long to make and the line was thankfully empty for now. The paper cup stood steaming on the counter, the name Min Yoongi scrawled over in the chef’s large writing. You grabbed it quickly, putting it in a carrier and placing it in front of him.

The man carefully lifted the cup up, taking a sip, before shrugging. “It’s not half bad. Maybe, I can come by if the machine stays broken.” He lifted hopeful eyes to you.

You couldn’t help but flutter slightly. “I’d keep our simple black lane open.” You teased back and he nodded, still smiling before pulling out the bills for the coffee. He slipped in another bill to your hand.

“A tip, don’t be too eager to spend it.” He flushed heavily, turning quickly on his heel to walk out, the bell tinkling at his exit.

You glanced at the one note curiously. It wasn’t too big of an amount but what mattered was the little red numbers at the base – a phone number. You grinned to yourself. He must have written his number out when you were packing his coffee. You slipped the numbered bill into your pocket, getting back to work to the line when you saw him.

Jimin’s eyebrows were drawn together, thick lips pursed tightly as he drummed his fingers on the counter. His eyes snapped to you immediately when you walked to him.

“Want something else?” You asked lightly, trying not to ruin the small lift Min Yoongi’s number had given you.

“Yes, I would actually, if it’s fine with you.”

You glanced up, eyebrows rising at the curt tone.

“Your little friend over there couldn’t get my order straight. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like a decent drink.”

“Park, you were the one flirting with Nina.” You scowled at him.

His jaw clenched. “Does that mean I have to suffer through a cup of torture?”

You determinedly looked down, writing down the order Jimin had wanted before, passing it to the kitchens to be processed. Jimin didn’t wait for you to ask him anything else, moving to the checkout line before you could say anything. You silently passed him his drink when it came and he took one sip, before wordlessly exiting the shop, your eyes trailing after him.

You didn’t wait for the official lunch break. You knew he’d be gone by then and you didn’t want to talk to him about his stupid behavior in front of your brother. Grabbing a simple cappuccino to go, you tugged on your coat, exiting the shop, tracing his steps where you knew he would’ve gone – Dean’s apartment.

You didn’t have to go very far. He had stopped near a lamp post, leaning against his car, phone back out as he scrolled roughly on it.

“Hey, Park Jimin,” You arrived in a huff, fingers snapping under his nose that had him jumping – looking at you with a heavy glare in his eyes.

“Y/N, what the fuck,” He backed up into his car door.

“I should be asking you that question. What the fuck is your problem?”

The glare in Jimin’s eyes subsided, replaced with a cold indifference. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, that you’re usually a jackass to me but today you just crossed a few more lines. Why would you flirt with Nina if you didn’t like the coffee she made? And why would you take it out on me?”

“Whoa, ok, I’m not a jackass to you, ok? I was just teasing you with that girl; I didn’t think she’d be so bad at a simple coffee.”

You crossed your arms across your chest. “Doesn’t explain why you were being all stuck up and awful, simply because I served another customer before you?”

Jimin paused, eyes trailing over you. “He gave you his number, didn’t he? I know guys like him; they act all shy to get girls like you falling over them. You’re my best friend’s sister, Y/N; I’m just looking out for you.”

“That is such…” You tried to think of a bad enough word, but looking at Jimin now, the smug arch of his eyebrow, the tilt to his head – you knew he was vying for a fight, anything to get out of the fact that you had called him out on his behavior.

So you did the exact opposite.

“You acted like you were jealous, Park.” You prodded, watching his eyes widen in vindictive pleasure.

“Don’t be stupid.”

“No, no, that’s what this all is about, isn’t it? All the interruptions on my dates, all the intimidating the boys I hung about with…you were just jealous.”

Jimin was backing up now, his hand clenching his door handle. “Y/N, I’m warning you.”

“Oh please, how ridiculous could you get?” You snapped and so did he. His hand shot out; he grabbed onto the back of your coat, yanking you to him, chest pressing tight to his.

Unfortunately, your arm caught between your bodies, the paper cup crumpling from the pressure and splashing all over him. Thankfully, your coat took most of the brunt while his shirt soaked through with what was probably sizzling coffee.

“Son of a bitch,” Jimin jerked away from you, hands pulling away the fabric of his shirt from his skin.

“Oh god,” You dropped the cup in the trashcan under the light post. “Are you burnt?”

“No – no, but I need to get home. Fucking now,” Jimin growled, unlocking the car to roughly pull the door open. “Get in.” He called curtly and for once you obeyed, circling the car as he revved the engine, driving to your apartment.

The car ride was silent, except for the soft curses Jimin let out, squirming in the seat as the wet fabric cooled against his body.

Once home, you led Jimin straight to the washer, letting him unbutton the shirt so you could stash it and your coat in to wash them. Of course, watching nimble fingers work to pull away a sticky cloth from Jimin’s chiseled torso did distract you for a bit but then he opened his mouth.

“You’re paying for the shirt, you know. It was expensive.” He grumbled, leaning against the bathroom door.

You rolled your eyes immediately. “It’s just a shirt, Jimin, and machine washable, it’ll come out fine.”

“Sure, sure,” Jimin smirked. “Isn’t this awfully domestic of you, washing my clothes?”

You didn’t even deign to stand up to face him. “Fuck yourself Park,” You said calmly.

“Actually,” there was a heavy pause. “I think I’ll just fuck you.”

The next thing you felt was a hand at your chin, turning you sideways where Jimin placed his lips on yours fully.

The squeak you let out was not the sexiest sound you could’ve made in that moment. But then, you hadn’t exactly expected Park Jimin to be kissing you in any way possible. His eyes were clamped shut while yours were blown wide open, watching his brow furrow with effort as he delved deeper into you.

Your hands had grabbed onto the sides of his waist, the curve smooth and cold under your slick palm, if not a little sticky too.

When he pulled away, perhaps to gauge your reaction, your mouth fell open about as wide as your eyes, watching him stunned.

“Yeah,” He huffed, “not exactly the most self controlled thing I’ve done.”

“But…what about all that shit about Dean and watching over me?”

“Are you kidding? He’d be thrilled if you and I got together – but he’d still knock my blinkers up and down the street for not telling him first. Which was what I was texting him about,” He pulled out his phone from his back pocket, showing you a text conversation between him and your brother.

You didn’t even glance at the screen.

“So, all that time when you were being a jerk, you could’ve just come up and kissed me?”

“Well, not really but,”

“Fuck, stop talking.” You groaned, dropping your head in your hand before growling. “Take it all off.” You dug your hand into his waist band, to drive your point home before reaching down for the hem of your own clothes, lifting and tugging it over your head.

“Oh, okay,” Jimin took a second to move, removing everything, your own jeans and underwear joining his on the bathroom floor before the both of you migrated to the wall next to the bathtub, kissing with fervor.

“You’re an idiot, just so we’re on the same page.” You managed to spill when Jimin’s lips – and better, his tongue and teeth – moved to your neck, lining the slope of your throat with harsh pink suckles.

“Babe, we both need to shut up if we’re going to finish this before Dean gets home.” Jimin looked up with a heavy smirk as he ran his tongue over your bottom lip, teeth digging in to part the seam of your mouth. You groaned, feeling him let go as he trailed his fingers down to your exposed breasts, thick fingers digging into the supple flesh, smacking one to watch it jiggle.

“Goddamn, if only I’d had the guts to just do this before when I saw you prance about the house in nothing but that huge shirt and panties.”

“Ironic, I’ve wanted you for roughly the same amount of time.” Your arms wound around his neck as he took a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it hard and rough, letting it go just as abruptly.

Your head thudded back, Jimin dropping to his knees easily. “I’ve wanted to eat this pussy for so long. All those times I’ve come over to see you on your stomach on the couch, or with some dude who probably doesn’t even know how do it -,”

“I thought we were going to shut up.”

Jimin threw you a dirty grin. “Make me.”

You smirked right back – if Jimin thought you were going to take the bait, he didn’t know you too well. Instead, you tangled five fingers in his sleek hair, yanking him closer to your core. “I will,”

His hands travelled up the expanse of your thighs, goose bumps soothed by his nails as his thumbs hooked into the apex of your legs. Jimin hummed against the burning skin, tongue placing kitten licks over the exposed clit.

If it wasn’t the sensation that had you leaning against the wall for balance when Jimin threw a knee over his shoulder, it was the fact that he never removed his eyes from your face.

His tongue traced over your glistening folds, dipping into your hole then fluttering back to your clit to suck it into his mouth, all the while his eyes burned into yours, as if he was devouring more than just your heat, your very essence.

You reached for his shoulders. “Come here,” You kissed him almost savagely, your taste on his lips as you plunged your tongue into his mouth. Fumbling with the free hand, you stroked his length, hands slickening in his arousal.

Finally when he pulled away, he went straight to the bathroom cabinet. “Your brother keeps his condoms here.” He explained.

“I don’t even wanna know why you know that.” You crinkled your nose, ignoring his chuckle as he rolled the sheath onto his shaft. Coming back to you, he kissed the wrinkle off your nose.

He grabbed your thigh, letting it rest over his elbows as he stretched one hand along the wall, holding it tightly in his. Tilting his hips at an angle, he fed his cock into you, a deep guttural groan escaping him as your velvet walls engulfed him tightly.

“I’d take a million ass beatings for a few minutes of this.” He grunted, his first thrusts slow and shallow, stretching you out before he was hefting his arm higher, parting your legs further.

The first angled deep thrust had you gasping, his lips sneaking over yours, subtly muffling the moans and whimpers by swallowing them.

Jimin maintained a steady pace, slow but deep, pushing himself to your limits, mouth wet over any inch of you he could reach, before he was pulling out, turning you to bend over the bathtub. Your fingers wrapped around its lip, tight and bloodless when he delved further back into you.

This time, however, there was nothing slow about him.

He entered you ruthlessly, fast, going even deeper if possible, his teeth clenched when you felt him lean over your, brushing away hair from your ears.

“Do you feel me, Y/N? You’ve been missing out on this.” He laughed, breathless when he reared back and then started plunging into you again, battering his pelvis against your ass.

The sounds of your broken whines accompanied the sharp slaps of your skin meeting his. His hands gripped at your neck, pushing your further down until your were completely bent in half, his head rubbing against your spot and then you were exploding – almost pulling away from him.

“Not done yet, babe,” You felt him enter you again, somewhere through the haze of your bliss, your orgasm seemingly endless as his ferocious speed kept you on the sweet edge of never quite finishing.

When he finally erupted, arms wrapped tight around your chest and waist, standing as he worded curses against your neck, you came once more, arching into the wall, before he rested the both of your exhausted bodies against it.

“We’ll have to talk to Dean if you wanna do this again.” You mumbled.

“Yeah,” He sighed. “But we still have some time.”

He glanced at you sheepishly.

“Round two?”

#btsbookclub #ficswithluv #smutcentralnet #jimin smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin #park jimin #bts jimin #bts #jimin x reader