After discovering the wonders of Ladynoir fanfiction, Adrien sets out to start his own with his classmate Marinette helping him along the way. But when does fiction start becoming reality?
This story is also beta’d by the wonderful @serendipitousReckonings here on archive, @dickerdoodlez on tumblr.
Adrien was never the writing type. He did write well - written papers and essays – at least according to his teachers – and was even occasionally asked by a few of his classmates for some writing tips. But, it was for educational purposes only. He‘d never had any sort of passion to write an actual story and he never thought of himself as the imaginative kind anyway. His mind was almost always focused on school, his responsibilities set by his father, and his masked identity. He never really had that luxury of being able to think about anything else. Well, except for his Lady, but that was something entirely different.
Gosh I'm tired why am I tired I had a full eight hours of sleep last night and I've had minimal contact with people today oh look there's a bird, pretty, I wonder what birds think about, actually I wonder what babies think about and how they recognise people, wait what about that embarrassing thing I did last week no I'm not going to think about that I'm going to think about the happy conversation I had instead that was really validating and fuzzy aw that was nice, I wish I could have more conversations like that
“Y/N, dear, thank you for bringing Fred in one piece.” Molly Weasley handed you a cup of tea. “Really. It still amazes me how he managed to find a girlfriend who’ll actually tolerate his devilish tactics.” she mostly told the last statement to herself rather than to you, moving on to the kitchen once again to now prepare for breakfast.
You grinned. “It was no biggie, Mrs Weasley. Thank you for letting me stay for the night.” you sipped your tea silently.
“Well, it’s the least I could do considering how my son disturbed you. Oh, I swear, as soon as he wakes up he’ll hear something from me and I’ll make sure he won’t do it again.”
Mrs Weasley kept on speaking to herself even more after that, her tone obviously mad from the way Fred behaved that it made you chuckle as you finally finish you drink.
Honestly, what Fred did wasn’t too grand. He just had enough drinks to actually get drunk last night, he apparated to your house and insisted to sleep there, but since you knew how strict your parents were, you just decided to bring him home at the Burrow instead. You were supposed to come back that very moment but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him so you settled in staying with him just for night, planning on waking up tomorrow as early as possible to go home unnoticed by your mum and dad.
It was definitely a good thing that your parents were such heavy sleepers.
“Thanks for the tea, Mrs Weasley. I’ll just go upstairs and change my clothes then I’ll be leaving.” you stood up from your chair.
“Okay, honey, please do make yourself feel at home.”
You headed to the staircase and quickly made your way to Fred’s room. You were wearing a shirt of his for the meanwhile of your stay and your clothes from yesterday (which still smelled decent, thank the heavens for that) was on the edge of his bed.
Before you could take off your shirt, you peered suspiciously at your boyfriend’s still sleeping figure. Well, it wasn’t like it would be the first time he would see you naked if he was awake, but somehow you still wanted to keep your guard up.
When you were sure he was still unconscious, you stripped down as quietly as you can. Though just as you were buttoning your pants, your upper body completely bare except for the bra that you were wearing, you abruptly heard Fred grunt and turn behind you.
“Any reason why you’re half-naked in my room?” his hoarse voice filled the area, a chuckle escaping his mouth afterwards.
You turned around and raised an eyebrow. “I know what you’re thinking.” you rolled your eyes, reaching out and grabbing your shirt that was still on the foot of his bed.
Fred took a minute before answering and sitting up, “Did we …” he slowly asked you again in grogginess, his eyes not even opened entirely as he gazes at you.
“No. We did not do the frick frack last night.” you laughed to yourself, soon sitting down to wear your shoes.
“You seem disappointed.” you teased.
You furrowed your eyebrows, “Are you still drunk, love?”
Fred chuckled again. “No. Just amazed that my girlfriend has self-control.” he had the nerve to joke.
After you have successfully worn your shoes, you finally walked towards the bed and sat beside him. He was already looking at you though, bringing his hand to your leg and closing his eyes again.
“Seriously, Y/N, I’m sorry for last night. I shouldn’t have bothered you.” he yawned.
You leaned down and kissed his forehead. “It’s alright. Everything for my favorite man.” you winked playfully. “Though now, I need to get going before my parents wake up. You know, you should be thankful they’re both muggles or else they’d be aware of my late night sneaking out.”
“At least give me a proper kiss before you go.”
You smiled, reaching down and attaching your lips to his. You felt him smile, his hand moving its way to the back of your neck to pull you closer. You almost melted into him because of how warm he was in the morning and how he was honestly such a good kisser, but as you broke free, you realized what he was trying to do.
“Nope, not working on me, Weasley.” you pecked his lips once more before standing up and getting your wand from the table.
Fred dramatically sighed. “I was sure it would work this time.” he grinned, his face now red.
You chuckled. “Whatever.” you looked at his eyes again. “Make sure to apologize to your mum when you go downstairs, okay? Stop giving Molly such a headache.”
“I will. Go home safely.”
With one final playful wink, you waved your wand and apparated back to your room, where your own bed was messy and the door was still tightly sealed with a lock.
Sam hasn’t been blackout drunk for a couple of years, not since the night that he got Dean back from demonhood and put away nearly an entire bottle of Jack. That time he woke up face down in his pillows, fully clothed with his dislocated shoulder shooting violent bolts of pain down his spine. This time, he comes to with the sky wheeling white above him, his clothes damp and his knees muddy and twigs and leaves in his hair. He sits up, hauls himself to his feet and staggers forward a dozen yards or so to emerge onto a jogging track, a woman in bright lycra thudding past with headphones in her ears. His legs are bruised and aching and his mind is… fuck, so foggy, a great roiling cloud of nothingness, and he has to stop thinking about that right fucking now if he wants to stay calm. He runs his hands through his hair, dislodging a beetle and a shower of debris, tries to straighten up his clothes. He finds his phone in his pocket, the screen shattered and dead. Great. But the next woman down the track has a guy alongside her, a personal trainer maybe, so Sam steps forward hoping that he won’t intimidate them both away.
“Hey,” he says, hoarse. “Can I – I’m sorry. Can I borrow your phone?”
Summary: Reader, famous singer, hooks up with Bob on Lindsey’s birthday party. Then she gets a role on The 100 and is nervous about seeing him again but everything goes better than she expected.
Word Count: 1808
I took a deep breath as I had parked my car into a parking spot for actors. Today one of my biggest dreams was going to become a reality.
Even though I would always be mainly a singer I had always wanted to try acting. So once I had gotten an opportunity to be casted in my favorite tv show, The 100, I had immediately agreed without hesitation. I had been more than eager to become a part of such amazing show and the fact that I would be able to work with my good friend Lindsey was just a bonus.
“Hey Ladybug! Do you have a last name, or do you want mine?” Marinette blanched. She whipped around to see a smirking Alya, completely untouched by the utter chaos around her. Uncharacteristically, Alya wasn’t recording, in fact, it looked like she didn’t have her phone out at all. Marinette quickly tore through the ropes of caramel and over to her best friend.
“Aly-I - you! This is the middle of an Akuma attack! You need to vacate the premise immediately! Are you hurt?” She rushed out, frantically looking around to ensure the Akuma was far away. “Wait. What did you ask me?”
Alya let out a tinkling laugh, smirk stretching into an endeared grin.
“I asked if you wanted my last name. I’d settle for a date if that was too much to ask.” She added with a wink, completely unaware to the grinding halt Marinette’s mind had screeched to.
“I… are.. Are you hitting on me?” She asked, fully aware that if Chat had said the same thing it wouldn’t have been a blip on her radar. Alya laughed and Marinette couldn’t figure out why there were sirens going off in her head.
“Of course, who wouldn’t want to score a date with the cutest savior of Paris? I’ll let you get back to work, you know how find me!” With that, Alya took off running, bringing Marinette back to the battle, shoving the sirens to the back of her mind as she turned to the Confectioner.
Summary: After Alexander died, he realized the existence of reincarnation. While most didn’t believe in the possibility, Alexander was one of those special few who remembered everything in their past lives. Because of this, he spent almost all of his lives searching for his dear Eliza. As his lives went on, things began to seem hopeless, all until he runs into her one day in the most unexpected place.
A/N: I’m sorry I keep updating late!! I am just so busy!!
Alexander’s hotel bed felt just a bit bigger when he woke up in the early morning. At first, he hadn’t noticed. He’d been sleeping by himself for over two-hundred years without a woman in his arms but when he couldn’t go back to sleep for no apparent reason, he realized something was missing.
You are no better than me, Solas. You may not have the vallaslin of a slave, but you have the demeanor.
What, proud? Free to pursue my own goals? Live my life as I choose?
No. You are bound to your path, you could not change it even if you wished to. You have made sacrifices, and it has cost you your happiness.
You speak of freedom as if it will make me happy, yet you are as deserving of my name as I am.
Tel'abelas. Even after all that has happened, I am glad that the life I live is for others.
How are you adjusting, Abelas?
To this world. I've lived in it all my life, yet there are moments when I wake from a dream and shocked by the present. I can only imagine what you are feeling, having lived in the wilds for so long.
It is... strange. The world feels larger, yet also smaller. For every new piece of knowledge gained two more have been lost.
A thousand years of humans who wanted to make the world forget their kingdoms were built in the shadow of Elvhenan.
I will not allow them to forget me.
Nor will I.
The durgen'len thinks he is clever.
And he is, in his way.
How do you get him to stop talking?
(if Varric is present)
You could pay me, Gramps, but I don't accept acorns. Or whatever you elves used to use.
I would suggest engaging him. Think of him as a leech. He hungers for stories, you must let him suck you dry before he can move on.
Summary: The reader is going through a rough patch, denying that there is something wrong. Dean and Sam are worried to the core, Dean even more so because of an awful suspicion and his hidden feeling for the reader. Is Dean going to be able to fix what is seemingly not broken?
Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester (friend and brother)
Warnings: mental health problems, depression, self loathing, swearing, death wish, self-harm, please, please, please say away from this if this triggers you
A/N: This is going to be a 2 parter. It has been a long time since I’ve posted, I’ll explain why in the next post and this already hints at what was going on. I am sorry for being away.
as you felt those dark waves come crashing down around you, swallowing light,
happiness and even dreams, you knew what was happening. Suddenly, at 3 in the
morning, you could feel it: the nagging dark feeling of emptiness, hopelessness.
It was right then and there, in the bed that you now
called your very own, that you wished you were asleep, or far away, or not
alone or just simply not there. Because it had started again, after all that
you’d been through.
Depression is a noun and defined as “feelings of
severe despondency and dejection”. It sounds all so easy in those very
complicated words, still so much easier than the truth. Because depression is
more than just a few words on a page, it so horrifying that no words can live
up to it.
But never ever, would you admit that what you were
experiencing was depression. No that would never be the case, even though it
wasn’t the first time this happened.
Like a blanket full of numbness, hurt and
worthlessness, draped over your body. Fully covering you and making you to a
whole other person on the inside. On the outside you put on a mask, showing
what you wanted people to see. Playing the main role of your own life, you’d
just pretend you were okay until no one was looking.
Not that anyone was looking closely. Being a hunter is
a lonely calling; it isolates you from other people. Sometimes even from other
hunters. So no one would look too close, no witnesses you lied to, no other
hunters you crossed paths with.
There were no friends and family who were able to look
after you, there were none. Just like most hunters, your own fait got you into
hunting. A mother, father and little brother, all lost in one night. Gone.
Forever. Leaving you behind. And there were no friends either. This life doesn’t
allow any space for friends.
Or that’s what you thought.
Because one day, you came across people who taught you
better. Sam and Dean Winchester. Dangerous. Feared. Hunters. Legends. And
somehow also family to you, at least by now.
They came crashing into your life with raised guns,
unfastening the ropes and knots that kept you prisoner. In some way those two
brothers were special. Of course they were living legends and saved your life
but there was something else too.
Being with them was easy and felt good. So
uncomplicated that it was ridiculous. The only way to describe it was that it
felt like meeting your best friend, who you’d known since you were two.
And somewhere between giving up a normal life, living
in isolation amongst a world too full to ever truly be alone and suddenly
meeting Sam and Dean Winchester, you found yourself in a bed. A bed that was
your own, in a room that belonged to you as well, inside a bunker you called
home. Another thing you thought you never have again, a home.
You should be grateful, you knew that. And you were,
you thanked who or whatever was responsible for all these great things. Giving
you a family of an Ex-Demon, Ex-Law Student and an Angel. Giving you a good place to permanently live
in. Giving you a family and a home.
But you couldn’t help what was happening. The feeling
of losing balance as the floor crumbled beneath your feet. In realizing this,
the slow tears started to fall. A spring somewhere deep in the woods, a silent
and steady stream carving the features of your face like water once did with
the Grand Canyon.
Summary: Y/N can’t seem to control what she says while I a deep slumber
You had been staying in Peter’s room at the Avenger’s tower whenever he had a long mission with them. Being an Avenger was seriously hard work, so Peter would always expect you to be asleep by the time he would get back from a particularly short mission or just a meeting.
So when he walked into his room, a smile graced his face as he saw you, curls smushed against the pillow and almost covering your face. Your mouth was somewhat open, and slight snores were coming out of your mouth. You had left the light on, and the television was loudly showing reruns of old cartoons. He clicks the light off and shuts off the television.
After getting everything he needed for bed, he climbed in next to you and wrapped his arms around you.
~~ In the middle of the night, you and Peter were on opposite sides of the bed. You had unconsciously pushed him to the other side, before dozing off into an even deeper slumber than before.
Peter laughed it off and tried to go back to sleep. He almost did, until you said: “I love you Web Boy”. Peter nearly snorted after hearing this, but instead, he just shook his head and went back to sleep.
Peter was up before you surprisingly, tracing the features of your face. He knew it would be awhile before you saw him again, but that’s nothing a little Skype cannot fix.
Your eyes fluttered open when he began to trace over your lips. “Hey, Peter.”, you smiled softly.
“Hey”, he pecked your lips before pulling back and looking at you. “You said the cutest thing in your sleep last night, babe”.
“Oh shit, what did I say?” You were fully awake now, sitting up with eyes blown wide.
“You were mumbling some stuff in your sleep, it didn’t make sense until you said, ‘I love you Web Boy”. He chuckled at your expression which was even more shocked than it was a minute ago.
“Oh, God! Please tell me you’re lying.” You covered your face as your cheeks heated up. Peter laughed and took your wrists in his hands.
“Nope,” He pulled your hands away and kissed your cheek. “It’s okay baby, you’re cute. Anyway, I love you too.”
A/N: I’m sorry for any mistakes, my native language is not English (sadly) lol
“Where? Sam, where is he?” I say in tears
in front of a sufferer Sam. The smaller of Winchester is sitting on one of the
chairs of the bunker library, with his head in his hands.
“He’s.. in his room.” Sam says, his voice trembling. I know exactly
who is in tears, for what has just happened.
Dean Winchester is dead.
He died fighting Metatron. He died to save lives; to save the angels, and even
demons. He died to save Sam. He died to save me.
That his conviction of being the savior of everything and everyone, to be
sacrificial .. what led him to Cain. It led him to the Mark.
The Mark of Cain changed Dean, ever since Cain has “passed” to him.
He turned it into something .. I would never have imagined. Nobody, not even
Dean, thought to get to be a..
He was becoming more and more obsessed with killing Abaddon, and when I went
hunting with Sam and Dean, he seemed .. different. He was more angry as he
killed; sometimes it seemed to enjoy killing.
Sam and I were trying to help him, to distract him as much as possible from
that .. damn, that tormented him more and more.
I tried to be his anchor, someone to hold, during the day, when he lost
control, and at night, during his nightmares.
When he woke up, he did not ever tell me what he had dreamed, what he had seen
so horrible to make him jump in between the sheets, completely sweaty. I asked
him to confide in me, but what he wanted was to just stay in my arms, in
silence; listen to the beat of my heart, while I was listening to his. I, in
return, I accepted his decision, and hugged him; I held him tightly to me,
trying to convey all the love I felt for him.
One night, Dean told me something. A few simple words that I hoped I would
never say, even though I knew it would happen. At the bottom is Dean, the one
who tries to save everyone.
“You should stay away from me.”, He said while he was lying on me,
our naked bodies touching. I put my hands on his stinging face, due of the
beard, Dean approached me and touched her lips with mine, so as to close
completely; I never tired of the lips of Dean Winchester. I was longing to.
Our positions changed, and when I was on top of him, I began to straddle, by
crashing my hips with his.
“I’m not leaving.”
Dean removed me to him, and sitting down on the bed, took his clothes from the
ground and started to wear them. Wrapped my body in between the sheets, I still
“I .. I could hurt you.”
Dean’s voice trembled as he ran a hand over his face, trying not to cry. I got
out of bed and began to dress myself.
“This is what you dream? That’s why you want me away from you? ”
…silence. I should have known that his nightmares concerned the people he
“It could happen.”
I turned to him, his eyes fixed on the floor. I took a few steps and sat down
at his side. With one hand I turned Dean’s face to mine, forcing him to look at
“I love you, Dean Winchester. And I know that does not hurt me. And you
know why? ”
“Because I love you, y / n.”
But the more time passed, and Dean felt as estranged from the world; Dean tried
for a period of .. control the mark, but it was useless.
And now .. now Dean is dead.
Before fighting Metatron, he promised me he would come back to me safe and
sound. We would find a way to start over .. to live with Mark, if you’d have to
And now Dean is dead.
And I? How will I live without him? How could I stay in this world without Dean
just for another second?
I walk slowly to the Dean’s room; one in which we laughed, we joked, we had a
fight. The room in which I and Dean we made love. I approached the room, and
see that the door is open. I speed up, and the doorway, I see it. Dean, her
helpless body, lifeless and full of cuts and the battle wounds against
I go over to him, and I sit next to him.
“You promised me you’d come back to me. You cann’t leave me..” I say
to my tears, and my sobs. “..you can’t leave us ..”
“Don’t worry honey. He’s more alive than you think. ”
I jump to hear a voice behind me; I turn and I see Crowley sat in the chair
placed in the corner. I get up from the bed, and I continue to watch the king
of hell, a smile on his face.
“What does it mean?”
“You’ll see, y/n. You’ll see. ”
And so Dean wakes up; but it is no longer what it once was, the love of my
Now he’s a demon.
I turn and I see Crowley behind me, his face red with anger.
After waking up.. Dean in demon, Crowley has ‘forced me’ to go away with them,
to babysit to Dean when he is not present.
I tried to bring Dean back to reality, to make him understand that his place is
not with the king of hell, but with Sam, and with me. But it was useless. It is
no longer him. But despite everything, despite the past few weeks I had to
watch the man I love to get drunk, get into fights someone.. flirting with
other women, I remained. I’m not going to leave him, I will not give up; but I
can’t deny that it hurts. It is so frustrating to have it so close, at the same
time so far away.
He is not my Dean, I keep telling myself.
He will come back to me.
“He probably will be in the room ..” with someone, I think to myself,
before drinking my glass of ice tea.
Crowley knew from the beginning what would happen to Dean if he died; the Mark
wouldn’t have allowed those who had died, and then brought him back, and it has
“transformed” into a Knight of Hell. Now Crowley has his “slave”
personnel; or so he thinks.
“C’mon; let’s give him a good morning. ”
I get up from the stool, and reluctantly I follow Crowley up to our motel.
Our room, number 616, is located on the second floor, and when Crowley opens
the door, I avoid to look into the room, knowing that what I see I will have
just a huge hole in my stomach. I support my body to the wall beside the door
of the room and close my eyes, listening to the voices in the room. Two men,
Crowley, and obviously Dean; I recognize her voice among millions of voices.
Then I hear a third voice, a woman who, after a few minutes out the door. She
turns to me, and is surprised to see me, my tired face and tormented by her
presence; embarrassed, the girl looks down and goes away in a hurry.
I try to hold back the tears, I take a deep breath, and go into the room.
Crowley is standing next to the bed, while doing a long scolding to Dean. This
last is sitting on the bed, while getting dressed. He turns around and notice
“Y/n, still here? then you don’t understand that I don’t care about you?
His words hit hard, but I try to remain impassive to what he says, and I don’t
answer to his provocation.
The ‘conversation’ ends there; Crowley has a job for Dean. Killing a woman, her
husband’s request, in exchange for his soul, just because she was cheating on
him. What an idiot, sell your soul because his wife is sleeping with another.
After some last spat between the two men, Dean takes his jacket, and he comes
out of the motel room. Crowley turns to me, and before disappearing, says:
“Follow him. Don’t lose sight of it.”
The night did not go exactly as I hoped. I expected that Dean did his work
without problems, I hoped that during the car trip we could talk, I tried one
more time to convince him to call Sam, to explain with him, to return to the
bunker together. Instead, the trip was bad, a distressing and embarrassing
silence, and as if not enough, Dean decided not to kill the woman, according to
him did not deserve it. On the contrary, he killed the man who had sold his
soul, because in his view had been an idiot. Well, partly I give him reason. He
did one thing right .. perhaps. This means that there is still something good
When Crowley has known, he was furious, but Dean did not care much: he is free
to do whatever it takes. It is not the slave of anyone.
And then with who he attacked Crowley? With me; you should stop it, he says.
But Dean does not listen to anyone, not even me.
I am so tired; my head is spinning like a top, and as the days go by, my legs
begin to weaken. My body is changing faster and faster. I not am able to hide
myself forever. I must think up a plan as soon as possible to return to the
bunker, Sam and Castiel and Dean return to normal.
Exhausted, I lay on one of the beds in our room at the motel, and close my
eyes, falling asleep in minutes.
After traveling around all the bars in the city where we are, I returned to the
motel, and when I enter in the room, the first thing I notice is y/n lying on
the bed next to the window, the outside lights that illuminate his body. I must
admit that despite its futility, has a body breathtaking. But still I don’t
understand what exactly Crowley wants from her; I don’t need the doggie to
follow me everywhere.
I walk towards the bathroom to take a shower, when I see something light on the
bedside table: y/n’s phone. I approach without making too much noise, and I
pick up the phone. A message from Sam.
- You all right? – Sam
I should imagine that y/n was in contact with my little brother, although it’s
strange that Sam has not yet come to get me, to bring me back to the bunker, to
try to cure me, or anything like that; certainly they have a plan in mind.
I ignore the messages of Sam, and I flip through with curiosity old messages.
- You must be careful. – Sam
- Do not worry. I manage. - Y/n
- Have you told Dean? – Sam
Sam’s message even more draws my attention; What exactly didn’t tell me y/n?
- Absolutely not. If he’ll be human again, that’s when I’ll tell him. - Y/n
I put the phone on the bedside table, and I head to the bathroom. While the
water glides over me, I keep thinking about what I read. Y/n hide me something,
and I’ll find out everything.
I had missed the bunker, my room in total silence, the library. I had missed
Sam and Castiel. But now I’m back. The plan of Sam succeeded perfectly, and now
Dean is segregated in the prison bunker, into a devil’s trap. Sam, to make
human again, he decided to use the same method used on Crowley: injecting his
blood with Dean, as long as he will not see improvements.
I asked Sam if I could help out too, use my blood to make sure that he wouldn’t
be too weak, but of course he declined.
Since Dean is imprisoned, I haven’t gone to see him even once. After all that
time spent with him, everything he did in front of me, not caring how I had
felt, I’d had enough. I had to hold on for a long, long time, his indifference,
and his evil..
The things he had said to me.. it was as if the stones hitting every part of my
body. I wouldn’t be able to even stand the torture. And then in the last few
days I haven’t been very good, and so Sam advised me to stay in my room to rest
while he and Castiel controlled the situation.
In my room, lying on the bed that I shared hundreds of times with Dean, I try
to close my eyes, still puffy from crying, when the lights go out completely, and
then turn on the emergency red lights. I get up quickly from the bed, and I go
out of my room, looking for Sam. Something is happening, and my mind warns me
to be careful, to go back and lock me in the room, until the arrival of Sam,
but the chance to go back now it’s nuanced, because someone takes me
unexpectedly from behind and slams me violently against the wall. I blink and I
do some deep breaths, to recover from the sudden pain in the back.
“You went somewhere, sweetheart?”
I open my eyes, that meet green ones Dean. I try to push him away, but with one
move, he’s on top of me, with a knife at my throat. I try not to be scared, and
I hide my concern; not for me, but for him.
“I was disappointed the fact that you didn’t visit me.”
He is not my Dean. He is lying.
“I thought you didn’t care anything about me.” I say. I try to spend
time, with the hope that Sam is looking for me, and find me to help me.
“Oh, but I didn’t interested in you! You need to know, I don’t like
secrets, and I know you’re hiding something. Now..” he says, stroking my
cheek with his free hand, “..I want you to tell me your secret.”
Even though I’m afraid, I do not tell him the truth. I can not; just put even
more in danger my life, and perhaps also that of Dean. He will be my Dean when
I tell her, that sweet, gentle, who cares about others. And not .. this
“What you hide me and my little brother?” Dean asks me once again,
still approaching the blade to my throat. I jump slightly when I feel the cold
steel on my skin.
“You’ll have to kill me.”
A smile appears on his face, while an audible 'click’ echoes between the walls
of the hallway. Dean looks down on the gun that I pointed at his ribs, and then
look up and look back, while he licks his lips with tongue.
“You will not shoot me, sweetheart.”
..he’s right. How can I think of to hurt him, to Dean? I love him, and although
he is not in him at the moment, he’s still the man of my life. However, he’s
his body, his green eyes, his lips ..
“No, I will not do it. And you know why? Because I love you.” I say,
as the gun moved away from his chest.
“And you?” I ask him, as I put the gun in the hands of Dean, his eyes
following my movements.
“You will have the courage to kill me? ..you have the courage to kill
us?” I whisper to myself. Dean hears me, and the confusion invades his
face, trying to understand what I mean.
And then I see him. Castiel taking Dean by surprise, strong holding him in his
arms. Dean’s green eyes disappear, to become totally in those of a demon. He
screams and wriggles in the arms of Castiel, trying to free himself, but in
vain. Castiel drags Dean, who continues to scream with anger, until they
disappeared around the corner.
At my side there is Sam, who worried, he asks me how I am.
“I’m fine.” I say more to myself than to him. I keep telling myself
“I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.”
Sam approaches, and pulls me in his arms, squeezing him. The tears begin to
slow down on my face; I can not help myself, and I begin to cry the tears I’ve
held since Dean awakening.
I want my Dean. I want the father of my son.
When I wake up, everything has changed. I’m back .. me, more or less. I still
feel a bit 'dazed, but all that anger, that indifference towards anything, has
Everything I did, everything I’ve said. Every detail of my time as a demon,
it’s all printed in my head. I remember the evil which I did to Sam, Castiel.
The evil which I did to y/n.
After having embraced Sam, I ask him where he is y/n.
I must see her, I tell her what I feel: anger, towards myself, guilt,
disappointment. I have disappointed her, I had promised her to always stay by
her side. Instead I did, and I told her things I never had to tell her. And I
did things ..
Words will not be enough, but I need you to listen. I need to see her.
“She is sleeping .. in your room.” Sam says to me. I go to the door,
but my brother stopped me.
“Dean, you have to know something.”
Five minutes have passed since I stopped at the door
of my room. I have so much need to see her, yet I know that when she sees me..
will be afraid of me.
I open the door as quietly as possible, and I see, y/n, lying on my bed, on our
bed, while sleeping.
I take a few steps towards her, and sit by his side. I take a blanket and lay
on his body. I stop on her hips, and I support a hand on her belly.
Here’s what me was hiding. A baby.
I was going to hurt the woman I love. I was gonna to hurt to our son. I hold my
head in my hands, trying to stop myself from crying, when I hear the body of
y/n move. I quickly moved away from her, and I look at her as she opens her
When she sees me, as I imagined, she jumps with fear, and she tries to get away
as possible from me.
“Hey y/n, it’s me, Dean… The real Dean. Sam took me back. ”
“Really? You’re not lying? ”
I try to approach her, the fear in her eyes. How did we get to this? I was able
to make me even hate her.
“You can ask Sam if you want. Y/n, it’s me. Dean. ”
I take a deep breath, and after a few steps, they are in front of her. His eyes
fix on mine, and suddenly her arms around my neck. I squeeze her to me, and I
feel his tears wet my naked skin.
“Sam told me … Of baby. .. I could hurt you, both. ”
Y/n moves away from me, and she holds my face in her hands, forcing me to look
into her eyes.
“No, you would not have done it. And you know why? ”
I support my forehead to her, and close my eyes.
“Because I love you.” I say; She comes closer to me, and pose her
lips on mine. I take her by the hips and kissed her passionately. I missed her
“I love you so much y/n.”
“I love you too, Dean Winchester. And nothing will ever change my feelings
Summary: Henry’s bit of teenage revelry dredges up some memories Emma could gladly do without, go thing her pirate’s there for her to lean on.
Word Count: 1, 326
Tags: #cs one shot #cs future family fic #cs angst
Sheriff Emma Swan leaned back in her rolling desk chair with a sigh, having just spent the last few hours in her office at the sheriff’s station answering basically frivolous complaint calls, filling in paperwork, and of course, clearing up all the hassle that came along with the previous night’s prank. She flicked her long hair back over her shoulders once more, blew out a breath of frustration, and rolled her neck experimentally, hoping to work out the crick she could already feel. Scanning the desktop surface and fruitlessly checking her wrist where she sometimes wore one in case it was needed, she failed to find a hair tie. She’d been trying to wear her hair down more often, not that her husband would ever tell her how to dress or style herself, but the look in Killian’s eyes the first time he’d seen her all done up for a night out with her hair falling loose down her back in long, golden spiral curls, had been worth the bit of inconvenience. She knew that gleam in his eye well, and Emma wasn’t above admitting – at least to herself – that she enjoyed putting it there every so often. Granted, Killian never failed to make it clear that he loved her, appreciated her, and found her beautiful every day, even after almost three years of marriage, but that gobsmacked, just swallowed his own tongue response was something else entirely.
Eventually, she stalked over to the coat rack where she’d hung her purse and rooted a rubber band from within its depths; for now, a ponytail gave her at least one less small annoyance on her plate. That done, she flopped back into her seat and forced herself to refocus on the report spread out before her. It was just a simple Disturbance of the Peace complaint – but the fact that it was against Henry, Violet, and a few of their friends for a toilet papering escapade on the wrong townsperson made Emma fret over it all the same. They defaced nothing, nothing was broken – they had barely gotten tissue over than more than a couple of the hedges – but none of that seemed to calm down Old Mother Hubbard herself. Once David had arrived to answer the summons (he’d been the one on duty the night before) he had managed to talk the old battleaxe down from pressing charges. It had been a near thing though, and Emma couldn’t help the smirk and shake of her head at her mother’s response to that news. “Well why did you think I called him Charming?” she’d asked innocently. However, the elderly woman had still been ranting that something needed to be done, kids today were out of control, and she could hardly sleep peacefully at night wondering what might happen next.
Emma snorted at that last bit, feeling inclined to go tell the old biddy that if she didn’t like surprises she was living in the wrong town. Instead though, she had simply ordered Henry to bed once her dad had swung by with him in the cruiser the night before. Over breakfast, she’d told him that while she understood that he was sixteen, almost seventeen, and there were a lot of worse things he could have been caught doing, and that she knew none of them had meant any harm, she still wanted him to go and apologize to Mrs. Hubbard for frightening her and not respecting her property. Henry had offered a monosyllabic “fine” and tromped out soon after, seeming not to be softened at all by the fact that Emma had ended the whole thing by trying to explain how much she loved him and what a good heart she knew he had; she simply didn’t want something that couldn’t be forgotten, some harmless teenage crime, to keep others from seeing the special young man he was. She didn’t want anything to happen which could stand in the way of whatever dream he wanted to pursue in just a few years’ time. She knew all too well that some marks against a person never fully faded.
She could only hope he would be in better humor and more willing to listen later that night. Probably not, since she had heard Violet’s father had grounded her for a month, therefore robbing Henry of his girlfriend and main companion for the next few weeks. Though the man might actually have ended up being from Connecticut not Camelot, Emma sensed some Middle Age ideas about propriety might have stuck.
Standing again, she went to file the report in the cabinet on the office’s back wall, and then leaned her head against it. What it really boiled down to, she realized sadly, was that she didn’t even feel she had much room to reprimand her son. She hated thinking back to those miserable, desperate days, but when she did, it wasn’t easy for her knowing that when she was a teenager she’d done so much worse. Emma’s shoulders slumped as she stood there, torn, with her mind back in days she didn’t want to relive.
A knock on the door interrupted her reverie, causing her to pull back and turn quickly to face whoever might be watching, running a hand under her eyes tellingly over suspiciously damp cheeks.
“Love, what is it?” her husband’s concerned voice, broke through her turmoil. And she couldn’t help being glad it was him seeing her in her moment of weakness; if it had to be someone, at least he would understand. Her pirate was across the room in two seconds and gathering her into his arms.
Rather than trying to pull away and convince him she was fine, Emma leaned into his solid support, rested her head on his chest, and drew some comfort from his warmth.
“You left so quickly after Henry this morning,” Killian continued. “I wasn’t so sure that it went well. Thought I should see if there was anything I could do.”
Emma hugged him back, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning back just enough to peer up into his beautiful, adoring face. “You’re already doing the best thing you could do for me.”
“It’s just a hug, Swan,” he murmured at her hairline. “You’ve been upset, and I want to help. You do know that Henry and his mates didn’t cause any real damage, aye?”
She gave him a watery smile in return, drawing a steadying breath. “It’s not that…” she paused, then looked at him again and it all came pouring out. “I’m upset because what kind of example am I, Killian? At his age, I was shoplifting to eat, squatting in hotel rooms, living on the run.” She sniffled, but didn’t stop, “How can I reprimand him for some harmless fun, when at just a year or so older, I was pregnant with him, in prison?!”
Killian sighed, his brow furrowed with sadness for her, both now and for the young, frightened girl she had been, while he pulled her into his embrace once more. Emma was grateful when he didn’t immediately offer platitudes or tell her it would be fine, but simply brushed his hook across her shoulder blades and swayed her gently back and forth. “Oh Love,” he crooned. “You’ve come so far since then…worked so hard… Your teenage crimes have no bearing on that. You boy is a bright lad. He will understand.”
It didn’t make her doubts, her worries for Henry, or the past hurt go away, but somehow Emma felt better all the same, just relaxing in her husband’s arms, knowing he would always believe in her and always see the best in even her clumsiest attempts.
“Do you always know just the right thing to say?” she asked him fondly, bemused half smile blooming on her face.
Killian merely grinned back at his amazing, strong, survivor of a wife, with satisfaction, “Only with you, Emma.”
A hc Rfa members and mc arguing/fighting its not pretty and mc can't take it and heads to the door to leave please
<ahhh I haven’t done angst in a very very long time. imma put a warning for this one, just so some people don’t get triggered. thank you for this request anon, i’m think it’s gonna be good!♡> you can blame the mysme group chat for making this like HOLY SHIT angst btw (y'all know who you are)
AHHH I FOUND IT AGAIN YES YES YES WE CAN DO IT!!
WARNING: CONTAINS MENTIONS OF VERBAL FIGHTING. ALSO SOME LEAVING. DON’T READ IF YOU’RE SENSITIVE TO FIGHTS. ♡
you were tired of it
“Rika used to dress like that.”
“You remind me so much of Rika.”
“Rika used to do her hair like you do all the time.”
“You know, that’s what Rika studied in school.”
Rika, Rika, Rika, Rika, Rika, Rika
everything you did was Rika
and you were sick of it
“God damnit Yoosung, my name isn’t Rika.”
“I know that, you don’t have to remind me.”
“Then how comE YOU CAN’T STOP COMPARING ME TO HER EVERY 5 SECONDS?!?”
“I JUST WANT TO SAY THAT YOU ARE LIKE SOMEONE THAT I REALLY REALLY LOVE!”
“OH, OKAY SO YOU DON’T LOVE ME THEN?!?”
“THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M SAYING, MC.”
“THEN WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?”
“THAT I LOVE YOU AS MUCH AS-”
“RIKA?!? MY NAME ISN’T RIKA, YOOSUNG.”
you began to cry, and Yoosung was getting annoyed with you
“WELL, FOR ONE THING, RIKA WOULD NEVER DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS TO ME!”
you lost it.
that necklace Yoosung had bought for your birthday, the one with the picture of you and him in it, you tore it off your neck and threw it down
“If that’s what you really think, I guess I’ll just leave then.”
your voice was croaky, tears slipping down your face as you stomped to the door of his and your apartment, about to head out.
“Wait for what, Yoosung?”
“I…I, I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave.”
“I can’t accept that apology, Yoosung. You know that.”
“MC, please. I can’t live without you!”
“You’re going to have to learn, Yoosung. If I come back, I’ll be expecting a real apology and no more mentions of…her.”
He went to grab your arm as you left, but you got out of his grip
You found yourself at Zen’s explaining everything to him, as he offered you a place to stay
Zen’s phone was on blast, Yoosung calling him every 5 minutes in hopes to talk to you
“MC, it’s Yoosu-”
“Don’t mention his name, I don’t want to hear his voice or think about him. Tell him I said to please leave me alone.”
After a week, Zen convinced you to go back to see Yoosung again, and you’ve gotten ready to accept his apology and apologize yourself
You knocked on his door, and an extremely underfed, tear-stained cheeked, heavy under-eye bagged Yoosung answered the door
but as soon as he saw you, the light in his eyes flickered with hope
“MC….is it really you?”
“Yoosung what the hell have you done to yourself?!?”
you found yourself not speaking with him, but still taking care of him for the first few hours, feeding him and letting him rest
you could see that he needed it
once he was ready, he came up to you and grabbed your hand
“MC, I’m really sorry. I couldn’t understand that you and Rika were different people. You both seemed the same to me since you both gave me hope, and took care of me, and loved me. But now, through what’s happened between us, I can see that you aren’t Rika. You’re far from her, too, you’re way better than her. I’m in love with you, MC, not her. I hope you still accept and love me, even though I’ve been an asshole this whole time to you. I should’ve excepted it earlier but my mind wouldn’t let me…”
you cut him off with a light kiss, you could feel him smile some, as a single tear rolled down your cheek
“I’m sorry for leaving you Yoosung. I just got too frustrated with how you kept comparing me to Rika, it hurt me. It made me feel less important to you. But, I shouldn’t have left you like I did. I should’ve stayed and heard you out. I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about, MC. Now, will you take this back?”
he held out the necklace you had torn off your neck that day you had your argument
you nodded your head, as he re-put it on your neck
“I’m really sorry, MC. Do you maybe just wanna cuddle and watch a movie?”
“That sounds perfect, Yoosung, thank you.”
needless to say, Rika’s name was never mention in your home from then on, unless it wasn’t in a way Yoosung would compare the two of you together.
you understood how much her job meant to her, as it was her only source of a decent income
but when it gets to the point where it seems like your girlfriend is dating her work more so than you…
…you need to put your foot down.
“Jae, why don’t we cuddle for a little tonight with those lattes you’re so good at making and we can watch some of Zen’s musicals you have on DVD, hm? Sounds nice, right?”
“Not right now, MC. I’ve got this report to finish.”
“Well, I guess you can sleep with the report tonight instead of your living and breathing girlfriend, Jaehee.”
“What are you talking about now, MC?”
“What am I talking about? What am I, talking about? I don’t know, Ms. I Love My Work More Than My Girlfriend, why don’t you ask all the reports you did last week!”
“You know that I’m busy all the time with my job, MC. Mr. Han doesn’t let down the amount of work I take home per night just because I have a girlfriend, you know.”
“WELL WOULDN’T IT BE NICE TO RELAX WITH AN ACTUAL PERSON SOMETIMES, JAEHEE, AND NOT A PIECE OF PAPER?”
“YES, IT WOULD MC. BUT AT LEAST THIS PIECE OF PAPER DOESN’T YELL AT ME FOR SOMETHING I CAN’T CONTROL MYSELF!”
that broke you
that was the last straw.
“Goodbye then, Jaehee. Have a happy life with your pieces of paper and packets of reports.”
“MC..I-I didn’t mean it I was just-”
you headed for the door as you could hear her tiny feet running behind you
“Save it, Jaehee. I don’t wanna hear it. I’ll hear you out if I decide to come back. Goodbye.”
you walked out and to Jumin’s penthouse, it was the closest place for you to head right now and Jaehee wouldn’t expect you to go there
“MC, what are you doing here so late?”
“Jumin, can I stay here for a little while? II can’t see Jaehee right now…and it’s too long of a story to explain right now. Please?”
he let you in and showed you to guest room, where you sat on that bed not eating or drinking for a week straight, just crying and trying to think straight
you heard him on the phone with Jaehee multiple times, he tried to bribe you a few times with cash to talk to her, but you never budged.
“Assistant Kang, I’ve told you 46 times already, MC doesn’t want to speak with you, and I’ve already bribed her 34 out of those 46 times. I’m not asking her any longer. You have reports to do, so please go do them.”
he walked into the guest room to see your pale tear-stained face underneath the single blanket on the bed
“MC, I going to need to ask you to go home. Assistant Kang really really needs to see you, and I don’t think I can handle her 50 phone calls an hour any longer. I have work I need to do myself, so please. Go home and take care of her, will you?”
needless to say, you were now in the back of driver Kim’s car, heading to your and Jaehee’s apartment
once you arrived the door swung open to reveal a more so than usual sleep-deprived Jaehee, who was paler than normal and hard bloodshot eyes from crying
“Jaehee, look at yo-”
“Shh, MC. I’m sorry. You’re right, I’ve been focusing too hard on my work and I’ve been ignoring you too much I’m sorry. I need to learn when tot put my work away and when to spend time with you. I really, truly, am sorry MC.”
“Jaehee I overreacted anyways, nothing to get too worked up over. Sure I was mad for a while, but I got over it cause I realized how childish I was being. I love you Jaehee.”
“I love you too, MC, now how about that cuddle session you spoke of?”
so, you both wound up falling asleep in each others arms, both with a latte in hand as one of Zen’s many musicals was just ending in the background.
you were happy he had gotten a new role in a major film
but when his costar in the film was beginning to take your boyfriend away from you more than you liked, that’s when you were done
“Zen, don’t you think you’re getting a little too close to her?”
“No, MC. I actually don’t. Aren’t you happy for me, I’m actually going somewhere in my career and all you can think of is yourself!”
“It’s not that, it’s just I’m sick and tired of not seeing you anymore!”
“You know I practice late.”
“Yeah, and that’s exactly why I saw pictures of you and your costar getting out of a cab and going into a bar the other night, eh?”
“That was one time, MC.”
“One time my ass! IT HAPPENS EVERY DAY ZEN. EVERY, DAY. I’M SICK OF IT!”
“THERE’S NOTHING FOR YOU TO BE SICK OF, MC!”
“OH, THERE ISN’T?!? CAUSE HANGING AROUND SOMEONE WHO’S CLEARLY HORNY FOR YOU WHEN YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND WAITING AT HOME TO SPEND TIME FOR YOU EVERY SINGLE DAY OF HER LIFE EVER SINCE YOU GOT THIS DAMN ROLE ISN’T SOMETHING I SHOULD BE SICK OF, HM?”
“YOU’RE MAKING A BIG DEAL OUT OF NOTHING, MC.”
“WHY DON’T YOU GO SPEND SOME TIME WITH YOUR COSTAR, THEN? IT’S NOT LIKE I WOULD MISS YOU, I DEAL WITH THE LONELINESS EVERY SINGLE NIGHT ANYMORE ANYWAYS!”
“YOU KNOW WHAT?!? AT LEAST I KNOW THAT MY COSTAR WOULDN’T GIVE ME THE SORT OF HASSLE YOU ARE RIGHT NOW, YOU’RE ACTING LIKE A CHILD!”
that took everything out of you
he was the one hanging around with some other girl, but here you were the one being called a child?
you huffed, letting the promise ring Zen gave to you fall off your hand and onto the wooden floor with a klang
you headed toward the door, before an arm grabbed you, stopping you
“Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing, MC.”
“You clearly want to spend more time with that other girl, so why don’t you do it in your own place? I’ll send someone to get my things tomorrow. We’re done Zen.”
“No waiting, Zen! You clearly don’t understand what I’m feeling right now!”
you found yourself walking to Seven’s bunker, he instantly let you in
every night you were gone, Zen got on the messenger drunker than a skunk
“MC, I think Zen really needs-”
“Shush it, Sev. He needs to learn. I’m not just some sort of trophy girl for him to show off at events or premieres.”
“I get that, MC, but he’s really…..broken….without you.”
you huffed, not wanting to remember the good moments you had with him
he broke your heart that night, and you weren’t sure if you were going to go back
meanwhile, Zen sat on the same roof he and you sat on when he had confessed his love for you, except this time you weren’t there
you were replaced by countless amounts of empty beer cans, as he chugged the open one in his hand and allowed it to burn down his throat
“God MC, I’m such an idiot, I need you….I need you….”
you walked home the next day to see a pale-faced, passed out Zen lying on the roof, many more beer cans sprawled out next to him than were before
“God damnit Zen, what the hell have you done to yourself?”
you dragged him into his house, lying him on his bed with some water and aspirin on the side table as you cleaned up all the empty beer cans and love letters he had written sprawled all over the floor
he woke up groggy, not knowing how he had moved from his roof to his bed
“What in the-argh!”
his head pounded as he looked over to see aspirin set out for him already, and some water
he gladly chugged them down, praying his headache would go away as you walked into the room
“MC, you…you’re here?”
“How do you think you wound up in bed, silly?”
“You’re still mad, aren’t you?”
he engulfed you in a hug, but you didn’t hug back
“I’m really really sorry, princess, I need to spend less time with her. You’re right, since I have a girlfriend, I should start acting like I have one. I should spend more time with you, I’m so so sorry MC.”
you huffed, accepting his hug as you hugged him back, tighter
“It’s fine Zen…I overreacted anyways.”
“No, you had every right to do that, MC. I love you, will you take this back now?”
he held out the promise ring you had dropped that night of your fight
he slipped it back on, and you both spent the entire day cuddling, telling each other how much you loved each other.
“Doesn’t Elizabeth look lovely today, MC? Look at the way her coat shines in the sunlight!”
“Why of course, dear.”
it seemed like anymore Jumin’s life revolved around Elizabeth the 3rd
not you, anymore. it uses to revolve around you, but now you’re old news, and Jumin’s gone back to his same old cat-obsessing ways
and it was sickening to you
he payed more attention to his cat than you, he never spent time with you anymore, he never listened to you anymore
for christ’s sake he sat next to his cat during dinner now, not you.
so you had enough, and refused to speak to him for a while to see if he’d notice.
“Darling, do you think we should get the rose gold food dish for Elizabeth or the silver food dish?”
he waited, but you continued eating your food, not saying a word to him
“MC? Excuse me, darling? Are you alright?”
“Wow, you’re finally caring about me for once?”
he was taken aback by your reply, dropping his cutlery at once before looking at you from across the dinner table
“What do you mean, finally caring about you, I’m always caring about you!”
you huffed, crossing your arms against your chest
“Oh really? When was the last time you asked me how my day was? When was the last time you gave me a compliment? When was the last time you felt anything towards me, Jumin?”
“MC, you can’t be serious right now. I’ve always cared for you! I ask you how your day is every night, I compliment you every day, I feel a strong love for you every day!”
“OH REALLY? THAT’S FUNNY, I haven’t been noticing that side of you, Jumin, in a really long time.”
“Okay, well tell me, MC, what have I been focusing on harder than I have my own wife?”
“YOUR CAT JUMIN. DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF HALF OF THE TIME ANYMORE? YOU WALK THROUGH THE DOOR, ‘OH MC, I BOUGHT THIS NEW POSH COLLAR FOR ELIZABETH’ OR WHEN YOU LIE DOWN FOR BED AT NIGHT, ‘MAKE ROOM FOR ELIZABETH, DARLING, I DON’T WANT HER TO BE UNCOMFORTABLE.’ HER UNCOMFORTABLE?!? WHAT ABOUT ME JUMIN? WHAT ABOUT ME?”
his jaw dropped, his face was priceless. he never knew talking about his lovely cat would ever end up like this
“I’M SORRY I’M TRYING TO TREAT OUR DAUGHTER LIEK A PRINCESS, MC, I WANT THE BEST FOR HER!”
“WELL WHAT ABOUT YOUR LIVING BREATHING WIFE WHO WANTS YOUR ATTENTION? WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF WE HAD KIDS, JUMIN. IGNORE THEM FOR YOUR GOD DAMN CAT?!?”
“MC, YOU’RE BEING RIDICULOUS!-”
“I’M BEING RIDICULOUS?!? AT LEAST I’M IN LOVE WITH MY PARTNER MORE THAN A PET!”
“WELL AT LEAST A PET WOULDN’T GET JEALOUS OVER SOMETHING AS STUPID AS THIS!”
that broke you.
tears in your eyes, you ran to the door, hearing Jumin’s feet quickly following behind you.
as you reached for the door handle, you could feel Jumin’s hands grab your shoulders, trying to pull you back
“MC, wait, please….”
the man was crying
this was his first time crying in front of you, he didn’t even cry at your wedding
you tried to ignore that, pulling yourself away from him
“No, Jumin. If I come back I’ll be expecting as much attention as you pay to your cat, and maybe a little love too. Goodbye, Jumin.”
you quickly walked out, slamming the door behind you as you heard Jumin’s soft cries coming from behind the door.
it broke your heart, but it was nothing compared to what he had done to you
so, looking for a place to go, you decided on his childhood friend’s-V’s.
V knew him the best, so surely he’d know how to help you
as you knocked on his door to his studio apartment, you heard him quietly talking on the phone to someone, only Jumin you could assume.
without saying a word, as soon as he opened the door he engulfed you in a hug and took you in, shortly hanging up with Jumin after
“…that was Jumin, wasn’t it?”
“He’s hysterical, MC. I’ve never heard him like this before…”
V offered for you to stay with him for as long as you needed, and you took up his offer for about a week
through the whole thing, you learned more and more about Jumin’s not-so-perfect past, making you miss him, the way he held you, the way he talked to you
after a week, V looked at you with sympathetic eyes as he moved from the door frame, revealing an overly-tired, tear-stained cheeks, Jumin Han.
without saying a word, you both ran to each other, V had helped you figure out what was going on and how to forgive Jumin for what he had done to you, and you were ready to see Jumin again
silently, you both made your way to Driver Kim’s car, where you continued to sit in silence, only holding hands with each other.
once you made it back to Jumin’s pent house, he immediately carried you to the bedroom, placing you on the bed as he curled up beside you and cuddled you
“I’m sorry MC, I never realized until now how much I talked about Elizabeth more than you. I shouldn’t have done that, I thought you liked talking about her as much as I did and I’m sorry I’ve been so stu-”
“Jumin, stop. As long as you treat me better than the cat from now on, it’s fine. I still love you as much as the day I made vows with you, hell, maybe even more.”
“Thank you, MC. I love you so much, you have no idea darling.”
from that day on, Elizabeth was treated as strictly a pet, and you became the only princess in Jumin’s life.
“Hun, did you eat yet today?”
Babe, wanna go out tonight?”
“Still working, don’t bug me until I’m finished.”
you were used to your boyfriend dating his work more than you, it’s a hacker thing you supposed
but when he ignores you and his health for an entire week straight…
…that’s when you get annoyed.
still, no answer.
huffing, you spun him around in his chair
he groaned, taking his headphones off of his hears as he slouched back in his chair, waiting for you to say something
“What the hell was that for, MC? You know I’m working.”
“Yeah, well maybe if you payed attention to your own health and your girlfriend, I wouldn’t have had to take you away from your precious work like this.”
“Well, do you want money? Do you want a stable life? Do you want a place to live? Why are you so concerned about me, I’ve told you before you really shouldn’t be so concerned about me.
“NOT BE CONCERNED? HELL, I’M ALWAYS CONCERNED ABOUT YOU.”
“WHY THOUGH, IT WON’T DO ANY YOU ANY GOOD!”
“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, THAT’S WHY. MAYBE IF YOU DIDN’T PAY SO MUCH ATTENTION TO WORK YOU’D REALIZE THAT!”
“WELL I’M SORRY THAT RIGHT NOW THIS WORK ASSIGNMENT IS MORE IMPORTANT FOR MY CAREER. NOW PLEASE, LEAVE ME ALONE!”
you lost it, tears falling down your cheeks as you ran to the door
you heard Seven groan behind you, trailing behind you but in a more slower fashion since he has been sitting down for as long as he can remember
he grabbed your wrist and turned you to face him
“MC, please wait, I’m-”
“No, Seven I don’t want to hear it. Go back to work, don’t bother looking for me. Work is more important to you anyways, right?”
you slipped out of his grasp as you walked out of your shared place, not knowing where you were going until halfway to Yoosung’s dorm
“MC, what are you doing here? Don’t you live with-”
“I don’t want to hear that name right now, Yoosung. Please, may I stay with you for a while?”
Yoosung allowed you to stay with him as long as you told him what was going on, since his phone was blowing up with texts from Seven
“MC, Seven wants to speak with-”
“Tell him I’m still upset with him, give me more time.”
by the end of a week and a half, it sounded like a madman was knocking on Yoosung’s door
you opened to reveal a fatigued and crying Seven, pulling you into a hug
“I’m so so sorry MC, I’m so so sorry, I’m so so sorry, I’m….”
you shushed Seven, rocking him as he sobbed into your shoulder
you walked hand in hand back to yours and his place, and once you got there you both cuddled on your bed together
“I’m sorry MC, I should pay more attention to you than my work..”
“It’s alright Seven, I knew how stressed you were, I shouldn’t have walked out so suddenly like that. I’m sorry.”
you both fell asleep in each other’s arms, tear stained cheeks as you murmured how sorry you were to each other
needless to say, you and him both kept a close eye on each other’s health from then on, and payed more attention to each other.
<ahhhh im so sorry this took me so long anon, it was long to begin with then i lost it then i found it and i had to finish it I’m sorry, but i hope you enjoyed! yay for angst with a happy ending! now to worry about life and school yayyyy!~~~>
@kaelinaloveslomaris wrote a three sentence fic about small Luke raised by Vader stealing Vader’s lightsaber, and it gave me Ideas.
Enjoy the result!
Luke smacked Artoo’s rear panel lightly. Mission accomplished, and he was off to bed with no one but Artoo the wiser.
“Luke!” The annoyed bellow woke him far too early the next morning, but that didn’t bother him. Instead, he hid a grin in his pillow; his plan was working. He was sitting up in bed, looking innocent and confused, by the time his father reached his doorway, looking all the more menacing for the irritation he radiated.
Luke wasn’t the least bit intimidated.
“Good morning, Father!”
“Luke. Where is my lightsaber?”
“I don’t know. Did you lose it?”
“What? Why do you think I know?”
“Because you’re the only one who can enter my sleeping chambers at will. And before you suggest otherwise, I know it was there last night, as it is every night, when I went to sleep.”
Luke folded his arms. “I’m not telling!”
Father raised a hand to his mask, then dropped it. “Child. I need it. You know I need to leave in less than two hours.”
“Luke, I do not wish to leave, either. You know that. This mission is, unfortunately, necessary. Please.”
Biting his lip, Luke tried not to be obvious when he glanced at Artoo, not sure what to do.
“I should have guessed.”
Apparently, he hadn’t been subtle enough. Father turned to Artoo and studied the droid for a moment. “Artoo. My lightsaber.”
No. Small pilot is right; you need to stay home, Artoo beeped. He spun his dome away.
Father sighed. “Luke, if I promise I will spend a full week at home with you when I get back, will you tell Artoo to give it back?”
Again, Luke bit his lip. That was tempting; he’d only intended to ask Father to put off his mission for a day. “All right,” he said slowly. A week later was better than a day now, he supposed. “It’s okay, Artoo.”
Artoo spun his dome back. No. Small pilot is too trusting. Will keep lightsaber until end of promised week. Pilot has a spare. Pilot always has spares.
“Very well, Artoo. If you insist, you may hold it hostage, but I expect you to keep it out of Luke’s hands. He may practice with his training ‘saber, not mine.” Father swept out.
Luke exchanged a gleeful glance with Artoo. Father hadn’t said anything about staying out of the hangar this time.