when are you going to fucking realise food is disgusting???? its literally just a ball of disgusting smush that you put into your body and it turns to fat. YOU ARE PUTTING THE FAT ONTO YOUR OWN BODY!! why? for a couple minutes of taste? that you will not bring you any happiness, joy or pleasure other than in those two minutes. You’re disgusting. You say all you want is to be skinny yet look at you, stuffing your face with whatever fatty carby shite you can get your chubby sausage fingers on to. You literally deserve to be fat if you really have that little self control. Honestly you’re so pathetic
Hi! 15 and/or 25 with archie from the dialogue list? x
15. “I fall for the worst ones.”
25. “I told you not to fall in love with me.” (w/ Archie)
You sighed as you got pushed off the swing and pushed yourself up with your chubby 12 year old fingers.
“Do you need help?” Asked a voice that was slightly deeper than your own.
You glanced up to see a lanky red-headed boy. You nodded and he grabbed your hand and helped you up.
“I’m Archie!” the boy exclaimed.
“(Y/N),” you replied.
“Did Reggie push you off?”
“Well stick with me and I’ll help you get away from him.“
You looked at Archie hesitantly before nodding.
“Great! Before we become friends, I have to warn you: don’t fall in love with me,” he said, chuckling.
You laughed and gently pushed his shoulder. “No problem there.”
That was three years ago and now, in sophomore year, you had ignored Archie’s warning.
You were in love with him and the only one who knew was Betty. Things had gotten tense between the both of you when you told her because she had also been in love with the redhead. At least, she was until a certain raven-haired beauty showed up.
But a few days into the school year and Jughead Jones (your other close friend) had spilled Archie’s secret: he was having an affair with Ms. Grundy.
“I fall for the worst ones,” you groaned as you slid into the booth across from Betty and Veronica. Jughead had decided to tell you what he had discovered face-to-face and as much as you hated to admit it, the news had basically shattered your heart. “I can’t believe he would do that.”
“Who would do what?” grinned Archie as he arrived at the table, sliding in next to you and pushing you further into the booth.
You hated the fact that you couldn’t stop the racing of your heart as his thigh pressed against yours and his arm was swung casually over your shoulder. You hated the fact that he had that effect on you. You hated the fact that you were in love with your best friend.
"Uh, Reggie,” Betty stumbled. “She can’t believe that Reggie stood her up.”
Archie’s eyes widened. “You were going out with him.”
You glanced at B & V, who glared at you, before swallowing hard and turning back to Archie nodding furiously. His jaw clenched as he got up and walked away. “I thought you knew better than to date him (Y/N/N).”
Betty and Veronica squealed as soon as he walked out of the diner.
“He was totally jealous hon,” V said.
You nodded absentmindedly.
The rest of the week passed by slowly. Archie had been ignoring you all week until he finally talked to you on Friday.
“Listen (Y/N), I don’t think you should go out with Reggie,” he said.
You snorted softly before looking up at him (he was quite tall). “I’m not going out with him.”
“What?” Archie asked.
“B & V lied. I’m not interested in him Arch. I’m- I’m interested in you,” you admitted quietly.
You heard his sharp intake of breath and you glanced up at him shyly.
“Oh (Y/N),” he muttered. “I told you not to fall in love with me.”
You swallowed back you tears as you nodded. “I know.”
Archie stared after you as you walked away.
You made your way to the drive-in, knocking on the door. A disgruntled Jughead answered, ready to scold whoever was outside before he caught sight of your face. “He knows doesn’t he?”
You nodded as he stepped aside to let you in. You hadn’t cried and you would not cry over Archie Andrews.
“You wanna see a movie?” Jughead asked quietly.
You nodded as he started playing some cliché horror movie, sitting down next to him and losing yourself in the film as you both told cheesy jokes and ate the crappy snacks from the concessions stand.
You wish you had never met Archie Andrews.
(very poorly written but I think its decent enough to post.)
Pool Parties, Booze, and Kids: A Short Story in Domesticity
Summary: After an invitation from one of Phil’s old Uni friends turns out to be a pool party for his 4 year old son, the topic of kids comes up. And neither of them are really afraid to hold back.
Genre: Domestic fluff
Word Count: 4k
A/N: This idea just kind of came up after a pool party I went to (are pool parties even a thing in the uk idek). Set some time in the summer of 2014, based on the assumption the book/tour was already an idea in their head. First fic so comments are majorly appreciated?? Anyways, hope you enjoy :’)
The summer that year seemed to be exceptionally – and unbearably – hot.
And Phil was not passing up a chance at a pool.
“Phil.” Dan leaned on Phil’s doorway, arms crossed and eyebrows strung up. “I don’t exactly want to go to this ‘party’. Who is it even for anyways?”
Phil sat on the carpet next to his bed and groped through his dresser, searching for the swimming trunks that hadn’t seen the light of day in god knows when. “I told you it’s for an old school friend.” He was too focused on finding them to focus much on Dan’s whining.
been six months since that night and both of us decided to not force anything.
We just enjoyed each other with no protection. Whatever would happen would
happen, this heat was brutal. It had been only three days into it and both Dean
and I were beyond exhaustion. It was close to dinner so Dean decided to go make
dinner while I decided on a hot shower. My muscles ached from all the activity
between us but it gave us a chance to grow closer and know each other better.
on the radio station and then stepped into the hot spray letting it loosen up
my muscles. I grabbed my body wash and massaged it into my skin when ‘Animals’
by Maroon 5 came on. I heard the door open and close, I could feel another
round coming on automatically. I felt arms wrap around me and pull me to him,
kissing up my neck column.
y/n, you got me hard again” I put my hands on the shower wall pushing myself
against his hips. He knew I was ready so he thrust in and started pounding into
me. Just feeling his body move with precision and power against me made the end
come that quick, but for some reason I felt like this was it. It was going to
happen; my body went into bliss as I felt him come locking us together. “I
think it happened Dean, I’m positive” He kissed the side of my head and waited
until he could pull up and then cleaned us off again.
I got dressed and went into the
kitchen seeing Dean still damp from the shower, just in a pair of jeans,
nothing else. Just looking at him could make me cum, I wondered how lucky I got
with him as my Alpha. “Something smells good” “I did make your favorite, bacon
cheese burgers with sweet potato fries” I kissed him gently and went into the
living room with my food.
into the burger and hummed, Dean was an amazing cook. “Babe these are awesome”
He sat next to me eating his own burger and happy at his skills as a cook. I
looked outside to see the snow still falling, maybe it would turn into a
blizzard and we could just cuddle and just relax. Once I finished, I laid on my
back with my head in Dean’s lap. He ran his fingers through my hair, relaxing
until my next cramp would start.
this last heat, I felt different, like something had changed. I could only hope
that I was right about that feeling. Jess brought Marie over for the day, the
boys had a few things they had to attend with John, Mary was coming over later.
I never had a family like this, they were so loving and gentle. I couldn’t have
been any happier with my pack. I found a recipe for slow cooker hot chocolate,
so I wanted to try it.
hoping it would help my queasy stomach, chocolate always helped when I wasn’t
feeling well. I heard the front door open, and saw Jess with a bundled-up Marie
in her arms. “Hi baby girl! Wanna come see your favorite auntie?” Her chubby
fingers reached out for me, and of course happily took her into my arms,
kissing her all over her face making her giggle. “So how is plan pup going?” “I
have a really good feeling”
of the day, we sat and talked about everything going on with the packs and the
new laws going up because of what happened with me and Dean. Once Mary had
joined us with a full cooker of beef stew and biscuits, which were absolutely
delicious, she too had asked about plan pup. “Your Dean’s mom, this feels weird
to talk about” “I wasn’t going to say anything but when I walked in I noticed
something different, like a glow” Jess quickly agreed, saying the same thing.
buy tests just in case, I guess I’m going to find out huh?” “When was your last
heat?” I thought back and my eyes widened. “It’s been about six weeks, I didn’t
notice it though” “It’s ok honey, it’s been very hectic the last few weeks.” I
had made up my mind right then that I would take the test with them here, I
really needed the support. I chugged a bottle of vitamin water and took two
tests, hoping it was what I had hoped. I set the timer on my phone and went
back out to see that Dean, Sam and John sitting in the living room.
were happily eating, not knowing what was going on. I wrapped my arms around
his neck, breathing in his scent and relaxing. I kissed him on the cheek, and
mumbled a ‘hey babe’ into his neck. I wasn’t sure how long I stayed that way,
but my timer went off and I had a good feeling about this. I walked into the
bathroom to see two pink signs greeting me. “Dean! I need your opinion on
something” I could feel the tears gathering in my eyes, I was so happy right
ok babe?” I grabbed the tests and held them up “What do you think daddy?” “Wait
really? Your…” I nodded finally letting the tears fall. He picked me up and
spun me in a circle, I could see the tears in his eyes as well. He got on his
knees, lifting my shirt up and putting his forehead against my stomach. “I
think we have some news to share” He got back up again, kissing me with every
happiness and contentment he could give. He grabbed my hand and pulled me out
to where everyone was.
Mary look first and I just nodded sharing our secret without any words.
“Really? You’re sure?” John just watched the scene and looked a little lost at
what was going on. “John” he looked at me and I winked “How would feel about
being a grandpa again?” “Wait. Seriously?” Everyone else finally figured out
was happening, we got hugs and tears. For the rest of the night we celebrated
and cherished the new life in my womb.
an appointment the next day to make sure everyone was healthy. Cas had offered
to be my doctor, he knew my health the most so of course I accepted. They
squirted the cold gel on my stomach and started moving the ultra sound until
there it was, the heartbeat. It was strong and healthy, more importantly it was
just there. “There is your baby, healthy and strong” He printed out the
pictures and made the dvd with the heartbeat. “Thanks Cas” “My pleasure”
made it home, I started feeling a little queasy so I changed into my pajamas
and snuggled into bed. Dean made me a cup of tea and joined me, for most of the
night we just snuggled and watched old westerns on the television. We were just
content in knowing that we were going to be a family, I was so blessed to have
him in my life.
the pregnancy, he was there for every moment and every appointment. We were a
little shocked when we found out that we were having twins, we were having two
boys. I couldn’t be any happier than I was right now. When we told everyone
about what we had found out, they all congratulated us and even threw me a baby
shower later in the pregnancy. I was concerned that I wouldn’t have a healthy
pregnancy with my age, but things were amazing.
twins decided to come on a warm late summer night, Dean had bought me a blow-up
kiddy pool to keep cool and for Marie to have fun too. I went to get out of the
pool and had a band of pain come around and informed Dean it was show time.
Once he straightened his head out, we left for the hospital. I sent some texts
to everyone saying it was time, and got promises to be there.
It was a
hard labor but when my boys arrived all my cares went right out the window.
Once they were cleaned and brought back, we talked about names. I could see the
differences in them, one had sandy blonde hair and y/e/c, the other had green
eyes and y/c/h. We decided on Noah Jacob and Michael James. When everyone had a
chance to see them and us, the door was shut and the lights shut off. It was
just the four of us, I was holding Noah and Dean had Michael.
you” “Shouldn’t I be thanking you? You did find me?” He just chuckled and shook
his head. I was so blessed to have the men in my life that I did, I was so
happy with my family, my pack. I was released the next day, and was shocked
when we came out to see a mini-van with streamers on it and congrats painted. I
was so overwhelmed with the thoughtfulness of this gift, we put the twins in
their car seats and headed home.
them in the nursery and went to the living room, we snuggled and just relished
in the peace and quiet. “I love you Dean” “Not as much as I love you” I fell
asleep snuggled up next to my Alpha, the man I loved with everything I had.
twins were amazing, over the next year Dean and I watched our boys grow. It was
their first birthday today so of course there was a huge party being thrown for them. The
boys had a meeting with Crowley so Jess had come over with Marie, it was a very
warm day so we had the kiddie pool full of cold water and a few toys to have
there laughing at the kids splashing and laughing, I decided to join them so I
got into the pool splashing and tickling the boys along with Marie. We were
having so much fun that we didn’t know the boys had come home. I heard Mikey
yelling ‘dadadada’ so I looked up and there he was leaning down to pick him up,
tickling him as he started giggling at his daddy.
leaned down and kissed me happily, then started getting splashed by Noah. “You
feeling left out baby boy?” He bent down to pick him up so I splashed him after
that we just went wild, Sam came out and laughed at the scene in front of him.
We brought the kids back in to get a nap before the huge party coming later. I
plunked down on the couch rubbing my stomach as our little girl started
watching you with the twins, but I can’t wait until this little girl comes” He
was rubbing my stomach just smiling at thought that we had made another little
one. I looked over at him, and just smiled kissing him gently. “I’m going to
say it again, thank you! You’ve made me happier than I thought I could be. I
wouldn’t have you, our boys and now a little girl on the way” “I’m so happy Sam
talked me into going for a beer that day. I never thought I would find my
soulmate, but now I’m so happy. Thank you for dealing with me” I kissed him
again before muttering ‘ditto baby’
“Near the end, Ser Gawen Wylde and three of his knights tried to steal out a postern gate to surrender. Stannis caught them and ordered them flung from the walls with catapults. I can still see Gawen’s face as they strapped him down. He had been our master-at-arms.”
Lord Rowan appeared puzzled. “No men were hurled from the walls. I would surely remember that.”
“Maester Cressen told Stannis that we might be forced to eat our dead, and there was no gain in flinging away good meat.”
~ A Clash of Kings
Your brother Stannis is still holding the garrison strong, sire.
Maester Cressen paused, pondering the words he had written. Should he be addressing Robert Baratheon as “Your Grace”? No, he decided, the letter could fall into the wrong hands. “Sire” was the safest option, able to stand for both “my lord” and “Your Grace.”
As to the rumor regarding our men surrendering to the Tyrell force in droves, I hasten to assure you that there is no truth to it, sire. A few faithless men tried to escape - too few to matter considering the great number of loyal men still manning the garrison at Storm’s End - and those faithless men were caught immediately.
Cressen closed his eyes, and paused again. Forgive me, Gawen. I have wronged you.
Ser Gawen was not faithless. He was a good man tested beyond his endurance, forced to watch good men, women and children starve, forced to watch his own wife sickening until she died abed, forced to contemplate the death of his sons and daughters, all the while powerless to do anything at all.
“I’ll not beg for mercy, maester,” he had told Cressen, in the dark and damp dungeon where he was imprisoned. “It was not for myself that I did what I did. I am not afraid of death. I begged Lord Robert to take me with him to war, but he told me I am needed here. But my children … and all the other children. Little lord Renly, he’s a child too. How could I sit still and do nothing, waiting for them to die? I did it for our young lord too. How long could he last, giving most of his meager share of food to his little brother?”
“It is treason, Gawen. Treason,” Cressen said, his voice breaking. “To surrender to our enemy is treason. And you mean to do more than just surrender your own body. You mean to see to it that Storm’s End falls.”
“I mean to see to it that the siege ends! I mean to see to it that no one else has to die. Aye, aye, I know our young lord will not thank me for it. He is stubborn, that one, stone-cold stubborn, but we have always known that, haven’t we, maester?” The ghost of a smile touched Gawen’s lips. Cressen had to look away to hide his tears.
“And he has promised his brother that he will hold Storm’s End come what may,” Gawen continued. “He’ll not want to break that promise, whatever the cost, we both know that. But if Storm’s End should fall through my treachery, then how could Lord Robert judge him for it? How could anyone judge him harshly for it, when it is not his doing?”
The mess people make of things, Cressen thought, despairingly, when they fail to see, to truly see.
Gawen. Gawen. How you have erred. You have loved our young lord like I did, tried your best to protect him from harm like I did, but you have never understood him. Never! It was never about avoiding his brother’s judgment, or anyone else’s judgment. It is his own harsh judgment Stannis could never escape. He will never forgive himself for breaking the promise he made to his brother, for falling short of his duty.
And he will never forgive you for causing him to fail in his duty.
Stannis was furious, distraught, bewildered, anguished. “If it had been anyone else … but Ser Gawen … Ser Gawen, he gave me my first sword, he taught me everything I knew about fighting. Is betrayal the best I could hope for, even from the likes of him?”
Last night something happened. Something really weird — even for you Winchesters.
Dean had thought that he, Sam and you had the situation under control. Yes, she was a witch, and they could be tricky. But, she was just one, and you were three. It should have been a quick hunt, and then you would go back home and watch a movie or something. Dean even thought that he could make a quick run to the bar, if he was lucky. Though, those plans went out the window, when the witch first knocked down Dean himself, sent Sam flying towards the wall, and then, when you pounced on her, hit you with a spell. And here comes the weird part — Dean and Sam then watch you shrink. Bright light, bam, and then you were sitting on the floor, in a pile of your own clothing. And you weren’t more than three years old. A toddler.
Request in which a chubby!reader feels sad that Joji can’t carry her like normal girls. Rather short, so sorry about that.
Joji snaps you out of your reverie and you jump a bit in your seat, looking at
him rather confused afterwards. “There it goes again!” he adds after seeing your expression, as if that was enough.
Solved nothing, though. You were still confused as to what he was referring to.
is?” You ask for explanations, toying with the straw in your drink, stirring
the rest of your unfinished lemonade, bored. No—bored was not the perfect word
to describe the thing that was bothering you. You were sad. Distracted from the
date you and Joji are on and were supposed to enjoy the time spent together.
Today you didn’t felt like being happy. Something was on your mind. And Joji noticed, despite you trying to
cover it—he saw that you were rather out of it and wondered why.
It’s exactly how it sounds, tall skyscrapers peaking high over dull ash coloured roads with gloomy storm clouds covering the sky like a blanket. The city rarely saw the sun, it was rarely able to feel it’s warmth bathe across the grass or paint shadows on the sides of houses. But one thing the city knew well was rain. Tiny droplets of liquid that drizzled from the clouds, splashing against printed car windows and bouncing off the streets.
Everyone carried an umbrella with them in the city of rain. Everyone but you, who was rushing to work in the rainy weather of early morning. Tiny yelps of sorry’s and excuse me’s left your lips though you hardly meant them as you weaved through crowds of people to get to your destination. After entering the building you gave your head a shake feeling tiny specs of water fly from your hair.
“How many times do you need to get soaked before you bring an umbrella?” Your eyes skipped upwards to meet the friendly face in front of you. A young man with sparkly eyes and neatly combed hair. In his hand was a cup of tea which he handed to you with a smile. “I guess I’ll never learn Joshua.” Your job wasn’t very exciting, at least in your opinion. Every time something major struck out in the city your boss sent you to the scene with a notepad and pen to collect information.
Then you came back and typed up a report for him to publish. That was it. That’s all you did. The only things that ever happened in your rainy city were convenience store robberies and murders. Most of the time you could hardly get any information so you had to expand the truth a little in your reports. Taking a sip of the tea you enjoyed the warmth it installed in your cold body as you followed Joshua into the office of your boss.
“Welcome, welcome, my two greatest reporters on the team!” You quickly exchanged an uneasy glance with Joshua while your boss used his chubby fingers to grab another cigarette to light. “Sometimes I think you two are the only reliable people I have working for me so today I’m sending you off on something big. I want you to go down to Churchill Cemetery and check things out. A few bodies have turned up missing from their graves along with other strange occurrences.”
Churchill Cemetery was usually a very quiet place, not many people ever visited the graves to even pay their respects. Right next to the cemetery’s edge was a forest filled with nothing but tall prickly pine trees and twisting roots jutting out of the ground. You couldn’t say you were shocked to hear that bodies had been disappearing though. “Okay, we’ll check it out.” Joshua turned to you with a nod as your boss puffed out a cloud of grey smoke. “Sounds good to me.”
At the cemetery gate you met with an old man named Albert. His pale wrinkled skin hardly seemed to cling to his face while his eyes were a dull greyish colour. His faded overalls were caked with mud as a shovel hung loosely in his grip. He looked after the Churchill Cemetery, cutting the grass and plucking the weeds that grew around the grave stones. “Is it okay if we examine a few things?” Joshua asked as he pulled out a notepad. Albert responded with a nod of his head.
“These are the graves that have been dug up.” Albert beckoned to the two head stones beside each other, clumps of dirt now turned to muck tossed up and scattered all over the grass. “They belonged to two sisters who died in a car crash just over two weeks ago. Mary and Kate Stewart.” Your pen scribbled across the expanse of the notepad along with Joshua as you drew a quick sketch of the scene.
The crime in the city was horridly high, different deaths every week or new criminals emerging from the shadows. The police were very useless, doing almost nothing against it and leaving the citizens to protect themselves. It was saddening but there was nothing you could do. “Is it okay if we look for a little while longer?” Albert welcomed you to look for as long as you like so you did, collecting information and the tiniest details alongside Joshua.
“Wanna know something?” The young man randomly said while he squatted down to run his fingertip through the dirt. With a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders you flipped the page of your notepad. “Why not?”
“This city is dubbed as the city of rain but it’s also dubbed as Urbem Lamia which means city of vampires in Latin.” (omfg I’m so smart right?)
You gave your eyes a roll at Joshua’s words. He always babbles about these random things that never make any sense so you usually dismiss them. “They say this city is a main attraction for vampires because there’s hardly any sunlight and with all the deserted parts of the city it makes the perfect place for them to hide. Also haven’t you noticed that most of the graveyards are close to forests? Easy access to bodies for their thirsty little fangs.”
“Wouldn’t they prefer fresh blood?”
“Whatever blood they can get their hands on.”
Tossing away Joshua’s little fantasy you began to close up the examination session. Flashing your wrist in front of your gaze you check the time. It’s 11 o'clock and you got here around 9 or so. About 2 solid hours of searching and pointless information that wouldn’t lead anywhere but a news article fluttering along in the breeze, long forgotten. You adjust the straps of your rain jacket as Joshua pulls out an umbrella seeing as thunder could be heard in the distance.
“We should say goodbye to Albert.” Though you didn’t know the little old man very well it was at least kind to announce your leave and thank him for letting you stay awhile. Your dirty rain boots sloshed through pools of muck and slick grass as you huddle close to Joshua under the umbrella. However it seemed as though Albert had disappeared, his faded yellow overalls and ripped fishing hat nowhere to be seen.
That it until Joshua caught him staring into the line of pine trees that marked the forests edge. The amount of grave stones began to lessen until only a few dotted here and there, Alberts shovel propped up against one of them. He didn’t seem to detect your approach, in fact his body seemed still as stone. Exchanging a glance with your partner you slowly break away from him and stand next to Albert.
You followed his strained gaze into the forest, slowly pivoting your head with your lips pressed together. For some reason you could feel the thump of your heart beating inside your chest like you were about to experience the jump scare of a life time. But instead you see nothing, absolutely nothing but the branches of pine trees bobbing in the rough breeze. Just as you reach out to place your hand on Alberts shoulder Joshua is beside you his eyes wide as he squints into the woods.
“Did you just see that?”
“That glint just then, behind that tree trunk. It was like a tiny flash of light.”
Suddenly Albert snapped to his senses like he had just woke up from a coma. He quickly stares between you and Joshua before taking a few steps back and reaching out for his shovel. “You are finished with the examination?” He questions like nothing had happened. Instead you ignore his question asking one of your own. “Why were you staring into the trees?” Joshua is by your side again, pulling the umbrella over your head as a few drops of rain splash on your skin.
“Just looking at a squirrel that’s all. If your work here is done then I should be going back to the shed. Have a nice day.” Just like that, Albert scuttles away weaving his path through the gravestones like he’d been here his whole life. Shrugging your shoulders you tug Joshua away from the tree line and out to the road but not before spearing one glance back into the row of pine trees. And at that moment your heart stops for you swear you saw a face between the trunks.
Finally you finish writing the report. Scooting backwards in your office chair you approach the printer and watch in satisfaction as clean crisp pages of papers slip out. Gathering them up you hurry towards the office of your boss. Giving a few hard knocks you wait until his raspy voice is heard from the other side. The moment you enter the stench of cigarette smoke hits your nose and fills your lungs. You almost drop your report as you cough into the side of your elbow.
“I thought you were trying to quit smoking.” You huff, your voice strained against the poisonous air. Your boss burns out the end of his smoke, tossing it carelessly in the trash before shooting you an apologetic glance. “It’s not easy you know.” Setting the papers down on his desk you push them in his direction noticing the empty pack of cigarettes next to the stapler. His eyes brighten at the sight as he quickly reaches into his desk and pulls out a wad of cash.
“You are absolutely brilliant! I can always count on you to go above my expectations. For all your hard work, here’s a tiny reward.” Your eyes widen as your boss slips off the elastic around the money and pushes off some of the cash. “Where did you get all that?” You exclaim in shock always thinking your boss blew his money on all the cigarette packs laying around his office. “I know some people. It’s 150 dollars, spend it wisely.” As much as you wanted to seem humble and selfless you were quite the opposite.
Money was tight and you could hardly afford your apartment. You would take what you could get. Swiping the cash off the table you give your boss an appreciative nod and thank him for his generosity. On the way out of his office something catches your eye in the corner of his shelf. A photo of a crowd of people standing in front of a building. You had passed his shelf many times, not caring about his baseball trophies or little antiques that had stories worth a thousand words. But this photo was new and it captured your curiosity.
“New photo?” You ask as your boss rises from his chair and walks beside you. With his arms folded behind his back he releases a long sigh. “It’s a photo of the day this business was opened. Almost 40 years ago. That building is the one you’re currently standing in.” Carefully you reach for the frame looking at your boss for permission before taking a closer look. You notice your boss with his arm around a young mans shoulder, a proud smile on his face. Also one thing you noticed was their shadows. It was sunny the day the photo was taken.
“Who’s this?” You point to the young man as your boss takes the photo into his own chubby fingers. He examines it closely before smacking his lips. “Of course! This is Albert, Albert Stewart.” You almost choke on your spit in surprise, not expecting to hear that name. “Is that the Albert that works at the Churchill Cemetery?” The same proud smile from the photo appears on his face, creases gathering by the sides of his eyes. “It sure is.”
“But the two girls who disappeared from the cemetery Joshua and I examined the other day, their last names were Stewart.” You squeezed your fists while probing your mind for a conclusion. “Is he their father?” Your boss was no longer at your side, instead he was opening another pack of cigarettes. “Albert never had any kids, they could be his brothers perhaps.” Your mind began to ache at all the possibilities.
You realized it was better to dismiss the situation seeing more than half the mysteries is this city were never solved anyways. Taking one last glance at the photo and then at the cash stuffed in your pocket you announce your leave. “Urbem Lamia.” Your fingers pause as they wrap around the doorknob, your face turning hollow. “What?”
“It’s just something Albert would say whenever it was sunny. He would go I guess we’re aren’t the Ubrem Lamia today. Never knew what it meant, never asked. He was always a strange fellow.”
“Indeed.” You reply quickly before rushing out the door. After snatching your jacket off the hook you begin to walk home, focusing on the watery sidewalks with the streetlights reflected in them. Cars sped by along the streets, a cool spray of water following in their path as it dampened your skin. However an uneasy feeling had settled inside your gut and it followed you all the way home.
The sun will come out tomorrow,
Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there’ll be sun,
Just thinkin’ about tomorrow,
Clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow,
When I’m stuck with a day that’s grey and lonely,
I just stick my chin up with a grin and say,
The sun will come out tomorrow.
What a depressing day to be replaying the song from Annie, it’s lyrics stuck clearly in your head until you sang it without even thinking about it. You leaned back in your chair inside the small café, a swirl of steam brewing up from your coffee. The sky was dark and gloomy like usual with the expressionless faces of the cities people strutting by. You poked at your late breakfast with your fingers until you peeled away the muffins wrapper and tossed it on the plate taking a big bite and hardly chewing before your swallowed.
“Careful or you might choke.” Your eyes met with Joshua’s sparkly ones as he entered the café with some coins in his palm. Taking a swig from your coffee you give him a scrunched up face as a reply in which he laughs with his little eye smile. Joshua also purchases a late breakfast, sitting down across from you with his jacket sliding down his arms. Taking a bite from his bagel he gazes out the window, the people reflected in his glossy eyes.
“I didn’t sleep well last night.” You tell him while fiddling with your fingers. “Did you know Albert from the cemetery use to work for our boss when he first started his business?” Joshua cocked an eyebrow as he devoured his bagel obviously hungry. After wiping his mouth with the napkin he shook his head. “I didn’t know, how did you figure it out?”
“Just a conversation with him when I stopped by his office last night. Who knows what else he’s hiding.” A soft chuckle escapes Joshua’s lip as he leans back in his chair. “Yeah I’m sure he’s hiding a lot.” You give Joshua an eye roll for his sarcastic tone while finishing your coffee, enjoying the last of its flavour before it’s gone. “You know that stupid Urbem Lamia thing you were talking about, Albert use to mention how the city would lose that title on sunny days.”
“Well obviously, vampires don’t like the sun so they’d hide away.” Pressing your lips together you give your head a shake. Vampires don’t exist, it’s just a bunch of wives tales. As you both clean up your table in the café you slip out onto the streets and head back to work. Break was nice but staying cooped up in a tiny office cubicle seemed so much better. Just before you enter the buildings front entrance you notice Joshua’s fingers freeze around the handle.
Glancing over at him you notice how he reads over a text on his phone with a worried expression, his fingertips turning white from squeezing the case too hard. You nudge his shoulder asking him if everything was alright which is when he turns to you with a puzzled but depressed expression. “Going back to the topic of Albert,” a pause as Joshua glances once more at his phone screen, “he’s been murdered.”
Alberts body was discovered at around 6am by his wife, who came to investigate the cemetery when he didn’t come home from work. The whole area was plastered with caution tape as there were police officers not only at Alberts shed but also around the area where the bodies were missing. You stiffened next to Joshua as officers walked in and out of the shed trying to seem like they had a clue what they were doing. The same uneasiness pooled into your stomach when you noticed your boss pull up in his dark blue truck, his wife stepping out beside him.
The officers wouldn’t let anyone past the caution tape until your boss approached, letting him hop over to check out the scene. His wife waited by the truck, her body wrapped in an expensive fur coat while her eyes were covered by an extra large pair of shades. You follow Joshua over to the place where your boss had slipped past uttering an I’m with him to get by. Chills crept down your spine as you approach the shed an officer talking quietly with your boss.
There laying in his own pool of dried blood was Albert, his eyes now a milky white colour with his skin looking sickly pale. You swallow thickly upon taking in the sight a churning feeling developing in your stomach. A loud yelp sounds behind you as you turn your head catching sight of an old women being ushered to sit down on a wobbly bench. You guessed it was his wife from the way she dabbed a white cloth at her cheeks and the gold ring on her finger. “Joshua this is terrible.” You mutter while stepping out of the shed.
“I know, he seemed like a nice guy.” As your fingers rake through your messy hair you find yourself blowing out a huff of annoyance. Annoyance at how everyone around here seemed to be getting picked off like flies. You feel Joshua’s arm lounge around your shoulders to comfort you when a quiet conversation between two officers capture your attention. Focusing in on the sounds of their hushed voices you find it hard to believe their words.
“There’s two tiny holes on the side of his neck, almost covered by his shirt. It’s like a bite mark.”
“You think it was an animal?”
“Maybe, it’s hard to tell what happened to him or how he bled out like that.”
Though you wanted to listen further, a sharp breeze down the back of your neck snapped you away. Joshua glanced at you in surprise when you whipped around but it was you who was now glancing in surprise at the face you met. A young man, maybe around your age with a playful smirk on his flower pink lips. His skin was a smooth milky colour with jet black hair that perfectly framed his mischievous features. Your gaze fell across his sharp jawline and exposed collarbones that rested under his skin.
But what caught you the most was his beautiful shimmering eyes. Though they were a dark chocolate brown they held a mysterious glint that had shivers prickling along your skin. His stare was bold and had your body feeling as cold as ice. “Were you a friend of Alberts?” His voice had your cheeks flushing a scarlet red, so calm and smooth. A voice you could listen to all day. Swallowing dryly you try to form a sentence but Joshua beats you to it.
“We chatted with him a few times. Just coming to check things out. Sad things had to end this way for him.” Joshua’s face was blank and expressionless as he spoke but you took note of his fidgety fingers telling you he was nervous. “Did you know him?” You ask your voice sounding tiny and quiet. The young man eyes moved slowly from Joshua to you, once again paralyzing you with his stare. A chuckle falls from his pretty lips as the glint flashes in his eyes.
“How could I not? Most of these bodies weren’t buried by him you know.” A still silence hung in the air, the sounds of people’s rushed discussion being carried away by the wind. “You helped Albert bury bodies?” Joshua questioned with a raised eyebrow as though he didn’t believe the young mans words.
“You think I’m lying?” His head cocked to the side as he took a step forward causing you to flush with panic. He may have been a handsome sight but he was as equally intimidating. Grabbing a hold of the fabric on Joshua’s coat you drag him back slightly. “We believe you.” You giggle nervously while you feel Joshua stiffen beside you at the fact you would surrender so easily. However you weren’t taking any chances with this mysterious stranger.
“Relax, you look like I’m going to hurt you.” His smooth voice flows through your ears and you almost wish you could block it out. He slowly approaches you and and Joshua with an out stretched palm a crooked smirk painted on his lips. “I’m Jun.” He announces proudly while waiting for one of you to return the gesture. “Joshua.” You observe as they share a firm hand shake holding one another’s gazes as though they were stalking prey.
Questioning whether or not a crime scene was the right place to be making friends with someone you reluctantly shook his hand but found yourself biting your lip to hold back a tiny gasp. Though his skin was soft it was also shockingly cold, like shaking hands with an ice cube.
Giving him a tiny smile you shrink under his steady stare while giving your name. “Your heart is beating like a drum. Why so nervous?” Jun pulls away while rolling up the sleeves on his loose black jacket, his eyes scanning up and down your body.
“I’m not nervous I guess just a little all over the place because of what happened.”
Jun tugged his lower lip between this teeth before brushing past you and Joshua. “Don’t worry, the sun will come out tomorrow.”
A/N; Vampire Jun for everyone:) pls pray for me I am weak when it comes to this boy anyways I’m hoping to turn this into a short series and I hope you enjoy it^^
It was a rather odd sensation to feel the blond wisps of
hair brushing over your upper lip. Although it was an odd sensation it wasn’t
unpleasant. It was enjoyable really. Not just his moustache tickling your nose,
the whole thing was nice, comforting, and it simply made you feel warm inside.
Liam (Age 13): “Open it (Y/N),” Liam prompted excitedly. “Santa put a lot of effort into this.” “I’m too old for Santa,” you said grumpily, ignoring his eye roll and beginning to tear the wrapping paper off the small present in front of you. Sometimes being the youngest in the Payne family was awful, especially on Christmas when you were made to sit on the floor by the tree in front of the fire and endure all the cooing as everyone paid attention to you opening presents. “Ruth can’t you open one as well,” you begged, not liking how everyone was sat staring at you only. “After you open this one, we’ll all join in,” she promised, smiling. “Yeah, like Liam’s said, Santa put a lot of thinking into this and we all want to see what you think of it,” Nicola added, sharing a grin with Liam. “You all know full well I haven’t believed in Sa- oh my gosh, Liam!” you shouted, staring in disbelief at the things in front of you. It was a testament to how well Liam knew his little sister despite being away for months at a time, seeing as you were practically sobbing. A personalized video message from your favorite Youtubers, Dan and Phil as well as a formally written, and very goofy, note from them asking you to join them for a “Day in the Life of Dan, Phil, and (Y/N) Payne” video. You placed the things on the ground before throwing yourself into Liam’s lap, wrapping your legs around his waist and burying your face in his neck. He laughed loudly, gripping you tightly and biting his lip happily as you thanked him over and over again. “I’ve told you (Y/N), Santa did this for you,” he said stubbornly, pulling you back a bit and running a hand through your hair. And if Liam wanted you to pretend to believe in Santa for the rest of the day and make believe you were still the baby, you were sure as heck going to do that for him.
Niall (Age 17): “Santa made sure I got home to you,” Niall winked, ruffling your hair as you both watched the News talking about the massive snowstorm that was shutting down Dublin airports hours after Niall’s flight had arrived. Your mum had promised you would all watch Elf as soon as Greg, Denise, and Theo got here so for now you were positioned on the couch with your brother and hot chocolate. You watched the snow on the screen and from the living room window with a bored expression before smirking. “Shouldn’t have bothered, Santa could’ve gotten me a way better present,” you shrugged, laughing as he threw a pillow at your face indignantly. “What a lie,” he countered, crossing his arms and pouting. “Mum told me you cried everyday about how much you missed me. “Well mum lied,” you teased, grinning as he stood up and towered over you. Without warning, he dove down towards you and tugged you to the floor, beginning to tickle you mercilessly. “Didn’t miss me huh? Really now? Wish that storm kept me away for Christmas? You wanna say that again?” he smirked, laughing as you desperately tried to crawl away from him. “I was joking!” you gasped, trying to push his hands away. “I missed you! I missed you!” He instantly stopped and smiled widely, “Knew you did.” “But at least if you weren’t here we wouldn’t be wearing this itchy Christmas jumpers,” you muttered, eyes widening as he was on top of you again, beginning to tickle.
Louis (Age 19): “So I flew all the way home for Christmas and you couldn’t?” your brother hissed into the phone, making you wince. “Louis, there’s still a few days left, maybe I can catch a train Christmas night,” you sighed. “And if I can’t, I definitely can get one the next day.” “It’s not the same!” he whined, ignoring the muffled sounds of your mum telling him to leave you alone. “Louis, it’s not my fault I’m working all day at the diner on Christmas and Christmas eve, I need the money for my flat,” you countered, running a hand through your hair. “Don’t understand why you won’t just quit that awful job and let me pay your rent until you find a decent one,” he muttered. “Louis! The whole point of moving out and being independent is being independent. Which means sacrificing things and dealing with bad situations instead of having my older brother bail me out,” you growled. “I’m going to be home the second I can, the entire family will be there until New Years. If you’d like to be mad at me all break, go ahead. Goodbye Louis.”
Zayn (Age 7): You heard the front door open and muffled voices whispering downstairs. It had to be Santa, no one else would be coming to your home after midnight. You quickly grabbed your stuffed Lion and pushed back your blanket, beginning to make your way over to the staircase. Once you reached the top, you quickly peeked over the banister with wide eyes, noticing the fire was still crackling. Your eyes traced the room but it was empty; the voices were coming from the kitchen. You softly crept down the stairs, holding your Lion in front of your face and walked over to the entrance of the kitchen. “You’ve got to be quiet,” your mum was scolding quietly as your dad and another man laughed loudly. “You’ll wake all the girls and the surprise will be ruined.” “Sorry, sorry mum,” a very familiar voice chuckled warmly. “Just good to be home.” He was walking over to hug your mum but didn’t make it as you came hurtling into the kitchen, throwing yourself against his waist, “Zayn!” He looked down surprised, but laughed loudly again, crouching down to pull you into his arms, “So much for the Christmas surprise. Hey baby! I missed you!” “Zayn came home for Christmas!” you shouted to your parents who also began laughing and nodded happily. You looked back up at Zayn, who was smiling widely, before repeating, “You came home!” and throwing your arms around his neck. “Of course I did sweetheart, I would never miss Christmas with my family.”
Harry (Age 3): “So Harry wont be home?” you questioned sadly, watching him clench his hands over the screen. He shook his head slowly, looking up for a second before looking back down at you, “I tried everything I could to get home tonight so I could be there when you woke up angel. But there’s a lot of snow and all the flights are canceled until further noticed.” “So you miss Christmas?” you confirmed, grabbing your blanket tightly. “I’ll skype you again in the morning to see what Father Christmas has brought you,” he reassured you, biting his lip. “And watch you unwrap everything. And the second I can fly home, I will. Maybe I’ll even get a flight tomorrow afternoon.” “But you’ll miss Santa,” you whimpered, placing your chubby fingers on the screen of the laptop. Anne, Gemma, and Harry all sighed sadly, Gemma moving to place you in her lap as you both stared at the screen with your brother on it. “You’ll make sure to save the presents Santa brings me so that I can open them when I get home right?” Harry asked, running a hand through his hair. You nodded doubtfully, looking up at Gemma who was suddenly smiling, “You know what (Y/N)? We can have a whole second Christmas when Harry gets home? With more puddings and cakes and cuddles? How does that sound?” “Second Christmas?” you bounced in her lap excitedly, giggling. “Really?” “You bet squirt,” Harry promised, sounding relived. “ Now get your bum in bed, you don’t want Santa to skip the house because someone’s up past her bedtime, do you?”
Imagine Steve having to take care of your daughter after you died giving birth.
CW: maternal death
Word count: 1,628
*wrote this while dealing with writer’s block for my Jewish Bucky fic hope it’s decent!!*
How could this have happened?
This wasn’t fucking 1930, it was 2016. People had phones that doubled as
computers, could talk to anyone in the world within seconds. The technological
evolution extended into medicine as well, providing doctors and nurses with
access to new equipment and remedies and knowledge that people in the 30s would
only have dreamed of.
And yet, in the most advanced nation on the globe, you still died brutally
and suddenly in childbirth; the C-section that successfully gave your daughter
life claiming yours in the process.
Steve watches in horror as doctors swarm your broken body, finding himself
being restrained by nurses as he attempts to rush forward as well.
Plus Sized 1D Series // You’re insecure about sex - Harry
Hey guys! I hope you like this one!! Sorry it’s short, I have homework, but it’s smut so woohoo!-kaitlyn
Of course Harry had tried to reason with you about having sex. He wanted you, he said, loved your body and you no matter what, but could you be blamed for being hesitant? After years of bullying and humiliation and hating yourself, being expected to just open up to him and trust him with the thing you’d never let anybody else see was bound to be difficult. You wanted to, of course you did. If you were being completely honest, you wanted to hop on his dick and ride him until you both passed out; however, you worried about your size. All that weight on Harry’s narrow hips might snap him right in half. He’d argued against it but you rolled over grumpily and went to bed.
You sort of regret that decision now, though. You’ve been tossing and turning, one minute hot, the next one cold. Sleep seems impossible for you to reach and you know why, but choose to ignore it. It’s the throbbing ache between your thighs, the one caused by Harry himself as he was getting out of the shower. You hadn’t meant to stare, honest, but his cock was just too pretty not to admire, hanging low and heavy and big, even though he was soft. It was mouthwatering, really, and you wanted to drop on your knees right then and there.
Harry hums quietly in his sleep next to you and rolls over, his minty breath blowing into your face and fuck, can you blame yourself for getting so worked up? You’re proper dripping down there, images of him fucking you into oblivion flitting through your mind.
So, you choose to do something you haven’t done in a long time. Your fingers find their way under your navel and past the band of your fluffy pajama pants, easily slipping through your wet folds and pressing against the swollen heat of your clit.
You melt back against the mattress as you start to pleasure yourself, pretending it was Harry and letting out soft gasps every now and then. You try to remember to keep quiet but you’re too (embarrassingly) close to even think straight.
You’re about to cum, wiggling your hips and stretching your toes when suddenly, you hear a groggy Harry mumble, “Fuck.”
That’s what sends you over the edge, that one tiny word laced with his accent has you groaning and clenching around nothing. But then, as always, comes the embarrassment. “Holy fuck-” you try, about to explain yourself, but he shuts you up with a hard kiss.
“Can I please touch you?” he pants, his hips stuttering weakly against nothing. His cock is hard and the tip is peaking out from his boxers, flushed red and leaking pre-come. “Please, Y/N, lemme touch you please.”
Your head is spinning from the orgasm and the heat of his kiss, but you’re already aching for more so you nod, spread your legs a little bit for easy access and cry out loudly when one of his long fingers presses into you.
“For Christ’s sake-” you gasp, but he kisses you again and runs his tongue along yours hotly. His thumb comes up to press tortorously against your clit, you sink your teeth into his lip and you feel your eyes roll back in your head. He’s moaning into your mouth, rutting desperately into the sheets as the warm coil in your tummy starts to tighten and heat.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck Harry please don’t stop HarryHarryHa-” You cum around his fingers with a loud cry of his name and you notice he’s still fucking down into the mattress, trying to get himself off. “Roll over,” you slur, and you’ve never really sucked a penis before but the pornos make it look a little easy so you decide to have a go at it, sliding his boxers down his legs and taking his cock into your mouth.
It tastes peculiar, not unpleasant but different than anything you’ve tasted before. The salty beads of pre-come leaking from his slit make your mouth water, so you take as much of him past your lips as you can and massage the other part with your chubby fingers. He moans, his toes curling and his fingers come down to tangle in your hair and it’s hot, you don’t ever want to stop making him feel good.
“Baby girl, fuck, love your fuckin’ mouth baby, such a good little girl, yeah? Suck it, princess, that’s right, choke on it a little.” His tip presses lightly against the back of your throat, gagging you but you trust him, look up to him innocently and you think maybe that’s what makes him cum.
His spunk fills up your mouth and although many would say cum is gross, you like it (it must be all the health food). It tastes like him.
“That was…” he trails off, breathless.
“Amazing,” you finish, and wonder why you waited so long for this.
concept: crayons gripped tightly between your chubby fingers, you draw a picture. a wobbly strip of green grass, a lopsided house with a blue door and a red roof - and then in front of it, you carefully draw two figures, one tall, one small, holding hands and smiling. your grownup cries from happiness when they see it.
Stiles pulls his
ragged fingernail from between his teeth and bursts out impatiently, “Well?”
Lydia’s been holding onto the thing for seventeen whole seconds (yes,
he’s been counting) and she still hasn’t said anything.
She idly flips the
card over and looks up at him, eyebrows raised. “‘Well,’ what?”
flings out his hand towards the wrinkled, now-soft paper she’s holding.
Spit that had been clinging to his thumbnail hits Lydia in the thigh with
the action and she glares at him. Stiles bravely soldiers on, hoping him
ignoring it will lead to her ignoring it, “do you know what this is?”
He folds his arms over
his chest, hands hidden under his biceps so Lydia will stop trying to detach
his thumb from his body through nothing more than sheer willpower. If
anyone was going to accomplish it, it was going to be her.
At least she eases back to scrutinizing the address printed on the card that Derek’s girlfriend had flicked at Stiles’ head and sniffs. “It’s a business card
that was very clearly trash at some point. And probably should be trash
again.” She holds it out to him like an antiques expert who’s just
told him his retirement is nothing more than a spoon from the 1990s that she could find at Kohl’s for a, rather reasonable, seventy-five cents.
She checks back in with his expression and it makes her outstretched arm
falter. “Yet looking at the crazy-eyes you’re currently sporting,” she
says, rolling her eyes, “I’m finding myself preparing for sinister plots and
Stiles holds up a
deductive finger, nodding, and says cleverly, “It only looks like a
business card. What that is, is a trap. A
Carrie-covered-in-pig’s-blood-humiliated-at-the-prom trap. Your future
husband’s current girlfriend doesn’t just give you a little starred, ‘he is
here, you are x miles away,’ map, okay? That would be way more helpful
than they are known for being.”
“TAEHYUNG!” You screech, your voice echoing off the walls.
“You’re going to wake–”
“TAEHYUNG!” You scream again, leaning on the table for support. “Why do you keep doing this to us?”
Taehyung leans forward, a smug smirk embossed across his face. He grabs a small piece of paper out of his pocket and slams it down on the table. You instantly pick it up, running your fingers down the corner of the paper until you reach the bottom.
The end of the ticket clearly read,
ADMINISTERED BY: OFFICER PARK SUYEUNG
OFFENSE: DESTRUCTION OF PERSONAL PROPERTY
OFFENDER: KIM TAEHYUNG
You slowly look up to him, the man you once had loved and cherished, suddenly disappearing before your eyes once again.
“Do you even love us anymore?” You interrogate, staring him straight in his unfamiliar brown eyes.
He nods quickly, leaning back and looking you up and down.
A tear streams from your eye and down the cheek, finally resting on the top of your hand.
“Don’t cry baby!” Taehyung attempts to comfort, snatching the piece of paper from your hands and putting his arm around you at once.
“Please stop this.” You mutter into your hands, knocking his arm off your shoulder at once.
“What?” He replies, a tone of irritation suddenly more apparent in his voice.
“Don’t think you can do stupid shit and just get away with it! How are we going to pay this?!” You scream, taking a couple of steps back from him.
“You’re going to wake–”
“STOP SAYING THAT TAEHYUNG!” You scream again. “YOUR OWN KID WON’T RECOGNIZE YOU AT THIS POINT! DON’T ACT LIKE YOU CARE ABOUT HIM!” Taehyung takes a couple of steps forward, looking extremely annoyed. He grabs your chin roughly, tilting your head up.
“What did you say to me?” He asks harshly. You attempt to smack his hand away, but his alternate hand quickly intercepts, gripping harder and harder onto you. His breath was extremely potent with the stench of alcohol.
“Tae..” You mutter, him inches away from your mouth. “Did you drink?” You ask helplessly.
Taehyung grins evilly, trying to get you to look into his eyes.
“Look at me.” He commands, moving your chin in every which way to try and meet your eyes.
“Tae!” You whisper yell, trying to fidget around to get his grip off of you.
“Look into my eyes..” He orders again darkly, smiling as he continues to fight for your attention like a child.
He thinks this is a game. He totally thinks this is a game.
“TAEHYUNG!” You scream, shoving him back with your forearm. He stumbles back a few feet and falls onto the ground before realizing you weren’t messing around.
“Pfff,” Taehyung snaps, now shaking with anger. “You wonder why I won’t give you my last name you fuckin’ wench.” He taunts, slowly standing up and dialing a number into his phone.
“TAEHYUNG!” You scream whilst rubbing your choked wrists, still cowering against the kitchen wall.
“I’m coming.” Taehyung says into his phone, then slipping on his shoes and shoving his phone back into his pocket. He reaches for the handle on the front door, catching your gaze and staring into your eyes before leaving.
“You brought this onto yourself.” He instigates, then forcefully opening up the front door and storming out into the night. Your eyes fall upon his missing car keys on the side table, causing you instant images of horror.
“Oh my god, oh my god..” You mutter, starting to feel your heart pound out of your chest. Pictures of Taehyung’s car crashed into trees, houses, people- all animated vividly and clearly in your head. You quickly grab your phone from your back pocket, dialing Taehyung’s number as you enter your baby’s room.
“Hi [Y/S/N]..” You whisper softly, stroking your son’s smooth forehead. He was fast asleep.
“Hurry up.” Taehyung grunts on the other line as your baby’s eyes fluttered open.
“Please get out of that car.” You say calmly into the phone that was nestled between your cheek and shoulder, being careful not to startle the baby.
“Oh my god.. Did you call me just for that?” Taehyung retorts on the other end.
“Taehyung..” You plead. “I’m coming for you.”
“Goodbye.” Taehyung sneers, quickly hanging up the phone. You carefully, but hurriedly, pick the baby up out of his crib, dressing him in the jacket that Taehyung’s mother had bought for him. It was a little bit too big on his feeble, sixth month old body.
“Good boy, good boy..” You whisper to the baby on the verge of tears as you button up the small buttons. “I’m so sorry for waking you. Daddy made a couple of–” A giant lump forms in the middle of your throat. You wouldn’t break down in front of your son. Not here, not now.
“Let’s go baby.” You say moving swiftly through the house, grabbing your pair of car keys off the side table. As you reach your car, you quickly open up the backdoor and place the baby in his car seat, then slamming the door shut. You fumble with the handle of the driver side door, finally getting into the car.
“Locate Kim Taehyung.” You gulp into your phone.
“Locating Kim Taehyung..” Your phone repeats back to you. After about a half a minute of searching for Taehyung, your phone locates him; a dot right down the road popping up.
“Motel?” You mutter under your breath. Why a motel? Who could he be with?
Surely not anyone he had been close to long ago. Maybe some of his new friends?
He completely skipped out on the group reunion last month like he had several times before. Nobody wanted Taehyung near their family with his track record after the band had disbanded.
Hoseok had been at home tending for his father and mother nowadays, Jimin recently had gotten married, Jungkook had been dating a pretty women for a long time but that relationship failed and he started to do some solo work, Yoongi had founded a company by himself.. That leaves one person if Taehyung were to be with one of his old friends. Namjoon.
Namjoon had done absolutely nothing since the group disbanded, much like Taehyung. If anything, Namjoon had just as many scandals as Taehyung. Strip clubs, alcohol, drugs, jail time.. All on Namjoon’s track record.
You start up the car, trying to wipe away thoughts of the worst possible combination- Namjoon and Taehyung. Your eyes flicker to the rear view mirror, checking on the baby. His head was tipped back in the car seat, the identical nose mole that his father has extremely prominent on his own nose.
As you pull out of the driveway, hands shaking on the wheel as the GPS leads you to Taehyung’s destination, the time looms around 2AM.
You round the corner, hitting the first stoplight. As you see the shining sign of the motel up ahead, your heart starts to pound faster and faster again. When the light goes green, you push down the acceleration pedal harder than expected, waking the baby up with a jolt. A low hum comes out of his mouth before developing into a slightly louder cry.
“Hold on! Hold on baby!” You promise him, adjusting the rear view mirror so he was in your sight. His chubby long fingers, (which he also had inherited from his father) covering his closed dark brown eyes. As you pull into the motel parking lot, quickly jumping out of the car and taking the baby out of the car seat, you can hear talking in the distance.
“Sh sh sh..” You whisper into the top of his small fuzzy head, slowly closing the two open car doors. The bouncing and snuggling into your chest instantly calms him. You lock the car with one press of a button on the keys, slowly advancing the steps to the motel.
“Excuse me?” You ask the overweight man manning the front desk of the motel just as you enter the lobby. It’s clear he wasn’t very invested into his job.
“How many?” He asks without looking at you, spinning his chair around and opening a filing cabinet.
“Ah..” You stroke the baby’s head. “I was just asking if there was anyone under the name of Kim Taehyung?”
The man slowly spins his chair back around to you, setting down the (presumably) room registration forms.
“We can’t disclose any customer information.” He exasperates, resting his elbow on the aged desk.
“Ah.” You say nodding your head, resting your hand on the baby’s back. “Thank you.” You bow, slowly walking out of the entrance to the motel. As your foot hits the last step before entering the pavement, a familiar smell infiltrates your nose.
“Look who showed up!” The voice says maliciously. You quickly jump back, almost falling down the stairs and landing on the baby. A single light illuminates him; Taehyung leans against the wall, one foot on the ground and one stuck to the wall almost as if there were gum on the bottom of his shoe keeping his foot there. He quickly takes the candy out of his mouth and throws it on the ground; a smile turning coarse, slowing starting towards you and the baby. You hug the baby even closer, your hand softly but firmly holding his neck. As Taehyung walks down the stairs and meets your feet, the smell of alcohol was more potent than ever. Taehyung reaches for the baby but you jerk him closer into your torso.
“You can’t hold him.” You try to say without a waver in your voice, failing.
“What?” Taehyung remarks, a crooked smile forming in the corner of his mouth. “Give me my kid.” He asserts, his long fingers connecting to your wrist near the baby’s lower neck.
“TAEHYUNG!” You squirm trying to escape his suffocating grip, shifting in every which way to avoid giving him the baby. With one quick motion, his hands are around the back of your neck; squeezing as hard as he can. You release the baby into his arm; totally under his control.
His fingers instantly release from your neck, giving you your vision and discharge from his inflicting pain.
“That’s my baby boy..” He says drunkenly, staring at him baby and starting to stroke his cheek.
“GIVE ME HIM BACK!” You erupt; anger, frustration, and feelings of lost power all boiling up in you.
Taehyung slowly looks up at you once again, his eyes burning holes through your own.
“Sh.. You’ll wake the baby.” He remarks shamelessly, an evil smile evident on his face.
You push the hair out of your eyes, attempting to make a running attack on Taehyung’s arm. As you run at him, his hand easily stops you by pushing back your chest. He dangerously holds the baby in the air with one hand, the other one on your chest; holding you back.
“PLEASE TAE!” You scream with tears in your eyes, looking up at the hovering baby only being supported by Taehyung’s left hand.
“STOP TRYING!” He screams back, bringing the baby back down in front of his lower abdomen. For a couple more seconds he holds the baby, staring him in the eyes before someone rounds the brick wall of the motel; coming up behind Taehyung.
“Taehyung..” The man stops himself while stepping out of the shadows and into the dim streetlamp.
It was Namjoon.
“Y/N..” Namjoon mutters, rushing down the stairs and bringing you into a soft hug. Something rattles besides your head as he ghosts–what sounds like-- a can a few feet away from your ear. The smell of heavy smoke emits from Namjoon’s clothing, making you gag as you hug him. He slowly backs away from you and looks from you to the baby that Taehyung had now pulled into his arms. Looking down at Namjoon’s own hands, you can see a crumpled up plastic bag in one hand and two spray paint cans in the other.
“Is this him?” Namjoon says hysterically, a smile forming on his face as he shoves the spray paint bottles into Taehyung’s stomach in exchange for the baby.
“Please–” You cut yourself off as Taehyung shoots a glare to you. Namjoon starts to bounce the baby in his arms, a scar apparent over the place his dimple had been just 5 years before.
“Wah..” Namjoon says holding the baby up in the air. “I’ve always wanted a kid..” His thoughts trail off. “Namjoon–” Taehyung says grabbing his attention. “Let’s go.” He orders, grabbing onto Namjoon’s bicep and guiding the baby back to your arms. Taehyung and Namjoon turn around without another word, disappearing behind the side of the motel. You trail behind them as they sprint up the stairs to the second floor of the motel that had twice as many rooms as the foregoing. They shake the spray paint cans and uncap them, starting to make pictures, lines, and curses all over the walls.
“TAEHYUNG! NAMJOON!” You start, running over to the stairs and going up after them as fast as you can. When you reach the second floor, Namjoon and Taehyung already have a 30 yard head start.
“TAEHYUNG!” You scream again breathlessly, making the baby start to cry. This finally catches Taehyung’s attention from Namjoon’s loud slurs and innuendos. He turns around to you, starting to walk backwards; a huge smile on his face. He hits Namjoon on the arm, then pointing to you and laughing. With the two facing towards you walking backwards, all thoughts stop. Taehyung continues to spray the wall although his full attention is on you.
“TAEHYUNG! STOP!” You breathlessly scream over the babies loud cries. This wasn’t what you wanted to say– this wasn’t even the start of what you wanted to say. How would an intoxicated Taehyung be able to comprehend your words on top of the baby’s screams?
Your attempt earns an eyeroll and a nudge from Namjoon. The two instantly turn back around and sprint up the stairs to the third floor.
“Oh my god..” You say out of breath and tearful. “It’s ok baby boy..” You mutter in his ear, now fully stopped. In the process of being bounced, his hand unintentionally touches the top of your cell phone.
“No no..” You whisper wearily into his ear. “We can’t call the police..”
Calling the police was not an option. Calling the police has never been an option. Not for Taehyung.
His screams instantly intensify at the end of the sentence; almost as if he, a sixth month year old, could comprehend what you were saying.
“Excuse me!” A rigid voice moans irritably from behind you. “Is everything okay out here?!”
You hadn’t even thought about the people that had been fast asleep. Your eyes dart over to the thick red mark across the room’s window. The man’s eyes follow yours and a gasp emits from his mouth.
“OH MY GOD!” He screams running back into his room and heading over to the phone.
“NO NO NO!” You scream helplessly as a tear sticks to your eyelashes. “PLEASE!”
The man shakes his head. “ARE YOU CRAZY?!”
Just as you run out of the room, thudding back down the stairs comes Taehyung and Namjoon. They laugh and joke around casually, throwing the empty spray paint cans aside as Namjoon’s distinguishes his cigarette.
“T-T..” You manage to get out as he walks right past you.
“Come on.” He stops in his place with a wicked smile spread across his lips, offering his hand.
“Let’s go man..” Namjoon nags anxiously.
“Sh.” Taehyung says in short, putting his finger over his lips.
“We’re going to get caught!” Namjoon yells erratically.
“LEAVE THEN!” Taehyung shouts back, turning his head back towards you with that same smile.
Namjoon rolls his eyes, throwing the plastic bag at Taehyung’s feet, running down the stairs back to the ground floor.
Tae’s head snaps back to you, his arm still extended for you to take.
“I think you should follow Namjoon.” You beckon, holding the softly crying baby in your arms.
Taehyung looks down at Namjoon who had just reached the last step and back to you.
Swallowing back tears, you uneasily take Taehyung’s hand.
“I really love you.” Taehyung says rubbing your arm as you descend the steps.
The lump in your throat was so strong you couldn’t speak.
“And this baby boy too.” Taehyung smiles, rubbing the baby’s cheek as a police siren sounds in the distance.
A tear falls from your eye opposite from Taehyung, you quickly rub it away.
“Where are you going?” He asks, pointing at your car that was clearly in front of you.
“L-let’s–” You can’t even get the words out at this point. What were you doing?
“Let’s stay here for a few minutes.” You stammer.
“But Y/N..” Taehyung looks off into the distance, running his fingers through his hair.
“Please.” You protest.
Taehyung nods, forcing a smile on his face and offering his hand out once again.
“I’m going to stand near the car, ok?” You whisper to Taehyung. “You stand there.”
Taehyung scratches his head, confused, but obliges; staring at you from a distance.
“You’re so good at that.” He smiles, no embarrassment at all.
You rub the now calm baby’s back and smile at your feet.
“Bouncing the baby?”
He nods and smiles; had he not noticed the stop to the menacingly loud sirens?
“Taehyung?” You distract him as a police officer slowly creeps up behind him, handcuffs at the ready.
“Mmm?” Taehyung replies, sticking his hands deeper into his pockets.
You don’t manage to utter out what you want before having to slam your eyes shut due to Taehyung’s suffering.
“It’s ok.. It’s ok..” You whimper to yourself, rubbing the back of the baby’s head, turned away.
“Y/N!” Taehyung calls breathlessly. “Y/N!”
You slowly turn towards him, uncovering your eyes. His whole body was squished against the door of the cop car; his eyes glued on you.
“Yeah Taehyung?” You reply, wiping the tear on your cheek.
Hey guys, I’ll hopefully be updating my other fanfics soon, but today is actually my 20th birthday, so I thought I’d write an imagine for you guys :) It’s a little bit all over the place but I hope you enjoy it!(And if you want to say Happy Birthday it would make me really happy)
It was call after call after call.
Everyone seemed incredibly up for going out for your birthday at the time, but
now they had to wait in line for concert tickets instead. You couldn’t exactly
blame them, State Champs meant a lot to Tessa and it was an intimate show. She
even said she’d buy you a ticket too as an apology and we’d go out next
weekend. So you were spending your birthday alone. Great.
There was no point in moping about
all day. It was your day after all. So after unwrapping the miscellaneous gifts
your parents bought you and collecting the money from various envelopes, you
head to town for a shopping spree. In the words of Parks and Rec’s Tom
Haverford “Treat Yo Self.”
Wandering around the town centre for
hours was exhausting. Especially when you had 3 bags dangling from each arm.
You decided to have a sit down at Starbucks and get a mocha while you were at
Sinking gently into the leather chair
in the corner of the room down the stairs, you pulled the new notebook
from a bag and began writing scenarios for your novella. You curled up warmly,
sipping your drink and gazed at the last paragraph you wrote.
‘Tori sat back in her chair with her
arms-crossed. “My best friend isn’t coming to my birthday party because
her boyfriend forbid her? Since when did you have another legal guardian?”
Lea rolled her eyes at Tori’s humour defence
mechanism. “I’m trying, Tori. I’ll celebrate with you another day, just
“Well you know what? Don’t
bother. If you’re not coming tonight for me, then don’t bother at all. You’re
not my friend.” Tori stood and angrily wrung her jacket in her hands,
before sliding it over her shoulders.
“This is such an overreaction,
don’t be so selfish. It’s hard for me too! I’m your best friend!” Lea
raised her crackling voice desperately.
“My best friend would choose me
first on my birthday… and you know what? Maybe I am being selfish. But if
there was one day that being selfish is more justifiable, it would be
Maybe you weren’t as okay with being
alone today as you had first thought, your writing seemed to reflect it. You
placed your book down on the table in front of you a lifted your cup to your
lips. Glancing up, you notice a group of guys you recognised. As they came
close, it become obvious who they were. Sam Prixton, Leon Walters, Mike
Oliver and their leader Brett Talbot. It was the jocks from Devenford.
“Look who’s all by herself! How
sad is that?!” Mike roared, blatantly pointing his chubby finger your way.
Of course they decided to sit on the table across the way. It was to talk about
you constantly, muttering to each other whilst staring.
You tried to phase them out, but it
just wasn’t working. You became extremely self concious, to the point that you
began to doubt everything about your appearance and just wanted to cry about
it. Quickly finishing your drink, you throw your book into a bag and walk
towards the stairs.
“Look! We scared her away!”
Sam laughed, snagging one of your bags as you walked past.
“Give that back!” You felt
a panic build inside you as a cold sweat broke out on your spine.
He pulled out the notebook and began
flicking through everything you’d written today.
“Stop it! Give it back!”
You shriek as he read snippets aloud.
“Woah (Y/L/N), you write about
sex! Someone’s deprived! 'I wanted him. No. I needed him.’” He mocked you.
A tear softly fell down your cheek. A
day that started crappy, got better and then worse again and it was becoming
too much. You wiped it away hoping they wouldn’t notice. They did.
“We made her cry!” One of
them roared with laughter.
You decided to leave the book and run
away from them. You couldn’t stand it any longer. You weren’t going to allow
them the satisfaction of seeing you upset. It was still fairly early and you
didn’t want to return home yet, so you walked to the cinema and decided to
continue treating yourself. If this day had started bad, it sure as hell wasn’t
going to end that way. An anniversary rerelease of Forrest Gump was showing in
30 minutes so you went for that, it was one of your favourite movies.
You managed to get a single seat on
the back row, it was pretty much all booked up so you were lucky. After
purchasing a medium soda and sweet popcorn, you scanned the seat numbers for
yours and plonked yourself down on the last seat on the right. The rest of the
audience shuffled in bit by bit and the cinema was quickly filling up, except
for the four seats beside you. Three quarters of the way into the trailers, you
heard voices near you.
“Nice to see you again,
(Y/N)” someone sneered. It was Sam walking behind Brett. When you saw
Brett sitting down next to you, you swiftly stood to collect your things and
A large hand wrapped softly around
your wrist before you could walk away.
“Don’t leave because of them. I
promise I’ll make them behave. Please sit back down.” Brett gently
whispered to you.
You did as he said and raised an
“Why are you being nice to
me?” You looked him up and down with suspicion.
“Because it’s your
birthday.” He quietly murmured “And I believe this is yours. You’re
very talented.” He smiled genuinely, handing you the notebook from
“Thanks… how did you know?”
“Facebook” he smirked,
before turning his head back to the screen. “Why aren’t you with Tessa and
“They’re busy” You sigh.
“That sucks. I’ve had some
pretty terrible birthdays, I get it.” He smiled sympathetically “If
you want, I could ditch the guys and take you for a birthday dinner.”
“Woah, what? Is this a prank?
Did you just ask me out?” You felt your eyes widen and heard a couple of
shushes from the rows in front.
“It’s not a prank” he
seemed to be telling the truth “I suppose I did. We’ve been lab partners
in chemistry for about a year now and as much as I enjoy the 'I hate you’
flirtatious banter, I kind of wanna see where it can go.”
“Okay, Talbot. We can see, but I
still hate you.” You bit your lower lip to conceal the smirk appearing.
“In that case, I’ll have to
“Oh yeah? What kinda girl do you
think I am?” You flirt back.
“Well, I was thinking maybe we
could fight with our tongues…” His little half smile smirk made you feel
a strange excitement in your stomach. You glanced past him and his friends were
all too busy watching the film and even sleeping to noticed you two talking
“I think that would be a good
idea.” You lean your face in and he softly strokes his thumb against your
cheek before connecting your lips. Kissing Brett was dizzying. When you broke
apart after a minute for air, you had forgotten where you were.
“You’re a very good opponent, I
think we’re pretty evenly matched.” He did the smirk again.
This time you gripped his face and
really went for it. Your tongue commanding his mouth as it softly massaged his
tongue. He passionately balled your hair up in his fist at the back of your
head and he dragged your head back to expose your neck. He had clearly read
your story. He knew what you liked so he was practically cheating.
“I’m not going to let you
win.” He grinned, running his tongue across the tender skin of your neck
and softly kissing as he went.
“That feels so good. I may have
to give you this one, Talbot.” You softly laughed as he continued to make
pleasurable sensations tingle on your skin. He laid his hand upon the heart
patterned tights clinging to your thigh and touched his delicious lips against
“I could take you for dinner and
then maybe if you want… we could… go back to mine.”
“I think we should skip
dinner.” You grinned, kissing him once more before resting your head on
his shoulder. He swung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his
As it turns out. This was one of your
best birthdays after all.
Crowley imagine requested by ghostbeanie! “Hello! I come bearing a fluffy Crowley request. :3 How about one where the reader and Crowley have a child, and one day, the reader finds him and their kid adorably mock-arguing with each other? Like, Crowley boasts about his accomplishments through history and the kid says something like ‘I drew a dinosaur with my eyes closed’, sort of like that one scene in Jerry Maguire. :)) I hope this makes for a lot of cuteness potential. ;D Love your work, as always!” Well, aren’t you just the sweetest cutiepie to ever grace the Earth. Thank you so much! I’ve never seen Jerry Maguire, but I (hopefully) have enough information from this request to kind of… roll with it. This imagine has been edited for reposting to add a few details here and there where I skimped out originally writing this. Hope you like it!
Traveling back and forth between two universes so starkly contrasting each other took a toll on your mortal body, your fatigue increasing, at times, to levels where you were positive you were no more than a corpse wandering through the veil separating Earth and Hell. Despite the hardships, you refused to accept the King’s offers to… how he said, ‘tweak’ your mortality, choosing to remain human regardless of your association to the demons you walked among. Your joints ached, screaming in protest despite their youth, their condition weakened by the marathon journey to your home away from home, your bones hollowed, the clean air around you peeling away to smog, wind thick with blazing embers, glowing orange sparks scorching your hair where they met, the clouds above more silt than vapor, a canopy of heavy ebony murk looming above, the familiar suffocating atmosphere reeking of smoke and agony. You sighed, relaxing into the discomfort, your feet shifting towards the gate guarding an archaic palace, candles flickering in the slivers of great stone archers windows, obsidian walls gleaming in the false sunlight with a black malice you’d come to anticipate like a child on their first trip to Disneyland. Well, Hell was no amusement park… the unburnt pathway to Crowley’s abode glimmered, enticing you, inviting you forward, your feet obeying your fervent desire to see your family once more, even if it meant taking a handful of staggered trips to the Underworld every few days. You wouldn’t lie, there was no place you enjoyed more than Crowley’s palace, the silken sheets welcoming you in, the marble flooring echoing your footsteps, announcing your approach to everyone who dared listen, the hectic style of your life adding an enjoyable chaos that your life up top lacked. The demons guarding the palace gates stepped aside, recognizing your face and allowing you pass (they’d learned the hard way that barring your entry resulted in… replacement), your weary feet taking you towards the open doors of the glitzier end of Hell… the royal palace.
Upon passing through the gleaming obsidian doors, the burden Hell seemed to constantly push down onto your shoulders lifted as if you’d discarded a leaden jacket; the interior was separate from the suffering of the outside, everything from the scent to the clarity of the air cleansing itself as soon as you stepped over the threshold, the doors clanging shut in your wake. You inhaled slowly, allowing your lungs to fill with the breathable air, an adjustment Crowley had happily made for the ease of your visits. It made no difference to the demons the quality of the air, but you could barely enjoy your visits when you were occupied with choking down the gaseous smog, thus, Crowley had obliged to a purer palace circulatory system. You dusted the smoldering ashes from your clothing, the palms of your hands warming from the close contact to the remains of an eternal fire as you dashed the glowing particles away, bits of grimy dust falling to the polished marble flooring, demons around you tipping their heads, paying due respect to the mother of the crown prince of Hell. You offered a smile, the heels of your boots shattering echoes from the stone beneath your feet to the reaching columns of multifaceted marble, your chest filling with a growing glee at the familiarity of the action, of the promise of happiness mere steps away, the milky stone twining with the ebony claws of obsidian rock, its mangled edges untamable. This was the Hell of nightmares, the glimmering stone torchieres sending wisps of thin black smoke upward to the arched ceilings, a mockery of every Gothic cathedral you’d ever seen, converted before your eyes to house the greatest evil imaginable, the smoke forming an ethereal, if morbid, sort of mist against the ceiling’s fresco, which was a painted depiction of Lucifer’s descent. You waltzed towards the thrones, your eyes locking on the little dark-haired boy occupying your grand chair, tubby toddler’s fingers plucking at the shimmering tassled cushions as his father snickered, his head moving to nuzzle into the young boy’s neck, the little boy giggling, the joyful sound reverberating along the hall. You grinned, jogging up the marble steps, Crowley’s face lighting up upon taking you in, moving to stand, his arms extended towards you.
“Ah, if it isn’t my queen! We’ve missed you,” he smiled, pulling you into an embrace, his hands spreading warmth to your back as he secured you to his body, his lips buried in your hair, every exhale disturbing the strands atop your head. “How are you, my love?” You grinned, pulling away to peck his lips, his teeth snagging on your bottom lip, sealing you to him in a longer, deeper kiss than you had originally intended, your son making his objections to his parents’ intimacy as loudly as he could, a chorus of ‘yuck!’s erupting as Crowley laughed into your lips, his tongue running along your lower lip once more, your face sizzling. His lips ducked to your ear. “How long are you staying, darling?” You smiled, pressing your lips to his a final time. He pulled away, his hand remaining on your back as your body bent to lift the toddler into your arms, the little boy’s hands clasping around your neck, squishing his face into your neck, pressing his love into your very skin. You spun, his legs wrapping around your ribcage as you sat on your throne, the spindly obsidian armrests cooling your elbows, your little boy bouncing in your lap.
“I’m better, now that I’m here.” You replied, answering his first inquiry before tackling his second. “It depends… how’s that alternate entrance coming along?” you joked, watching Crowley’s eyes burst with apologies and humour. The little boy lifted his head from your shoulder, innocent (though, with a father like Crowley and an atmosphere such as this, you were sure that would change. You had both vowed to ensure he remained as level-headed as was… half-humanely possible) chocolate eyes staring up at you from behind a fringe of dark, thick lashes, his dimples pocketing his chubby cheeks as he smiled. A rogue strand of black hair dangled in the middle of his forehead, which you tucked back behind his ear with the tip of your fingers. “Hey, you! Did you miss me?” you smiled, your index finger tapping his nose, the little boy’s face crinkling in glee as he giggled.
“Yes, Mommy!” he laughed, his eyes popping open, excitement shining from his face like a sun. God, it’d only been two days since you’d last seen him, how much had he changed? Perhaps it was just your mind playing tricks on you, the constant departure tugging at your heartstrings. You ran a hand through the untidy mop of coal-coloured hair, marveling at it’s feather soft texture, the strands shining in the firelight. Beautiful… he was beautiful. He wriggled out from beneath your touch, his hand tugging on the collar of your shirt, impatience filtering down the bloodlines from father to son. You brought your head down, his hand bridging the space between his lips and your ear, chubby fingers resting against your cheek as he whispered. “Can you tell Daddy my picture is better than his?” he pleaded, his eyes softening with his request, turning to face your king, your own gaze following his to find Crowley shaking his head with dramatic fervor, eyes sparkling on yours.
“No, no, mine was better, love.” Upon seeing your confused expression, he ducked his head, leaning towards you, his face turned towards the back of the throne room to prohibit his son from reading his lips, his stubble scratching your cheek. “We’ve been arguing all day. He’ll make a great politician, you just wait. The Mona Lisa. Kid thinks he’s got me beat.” he explained, sticking his tongue out at your son, who mirrored him to a tee, his small teeth forming a grin beyond full lips.
“But, but,” your child took a deep breath, preparing for the continuation of his sentence, your eyes flickering to Crowley, whose face was overrun with joy, watching your son argue the value of his scribbles. “Daddy, you never drew the Moan of Lisa. You just made a deal!” he insisted, Crowley raising his hands in mock defeat.
“He’s right, I only fueled the old bloke’s talent. That’s got to count for something, though, doesn’t it? Help me out, darling.” he whined, your child placing his palms against your cheeks, dragging your attention back to him, chocolate irises alight with concern and glory. You feinted contemplation, your hands grasping your son’s, bringing them together between you, clapping them twice as your face scrunched in comic uncertainty.
“Hmm… do I get to see this masterpiece of yours? Or do I have to assume it’s a work of art?” You snickered, your son turning to fish a scrap of paper from between your golden cushion and the pitch black of your throne, his hands returning with the crumbled picture that was supposedly more beautiful than DaVinci’s Mona Lisa, pressing the paper into your waiting palm. You unfolded the wrinkles, gazing down at a charcoal smudge that had clearly once been a stick-figure woman, darker lines among the smokey streaks outlining a triple-pointed crown atop a triangle dress, lines sprouting from the rough circle dropping to about the length of your hair. A jagged line formed your smile, your twig of an arm extended to hold another smudgy figure’s hand, a matching crown topping his head, the man toting a small koala-esque figure on his hip.
“See, Mommy, that’s you and that’s Daddy and Daddy has me because you were just coming home, but look! The ceiling has the curves it does right, right there,” he paused, fingers probing the sky, showing you the arches above, “and your hair is the way you like it and I put you in your favourite dress, the one Daddy made for you, and look! That was the day we played hide and seek in the throne room because I put your chairs in the back, see?” he mumbled, his finger jabbing at each individual detail with the enthusiasm of a scientist who had just discovered the cure to a rampant disease. The skyline was dotted with little sunbursts that you could only assume were the lights, prongs extending from the orbs must have been your child’s geometric take on flames. You grinned at the family portrait, your gaze lifting to Crowley’s, whose hand reached for your unoccupied fingers, the warmth of his palm spreading heat to yours as your fingers intertwined. He winked, biting down on his lips as he waited for your verdict.
“Well,” you huffed, staring down at the boy in your lap, his eager face also awaiting your decision. “I’m sorry, Crowley, but I think he’s got you beat. I mean, the technique alone is better than whatever that old man put together. See? Eyebrows,” you joked, voice completely professional, Crowley rolling his eyes at your well-timed humor, “I think we have a winner with this one.” you smiled, waving the paper as your son bounced in your lap, his arms encircling your neck once more, crushing the air from your throat, his little feet pounding against your thighs. Crowley laughed aloud, the both of you listening to your son’s chants of victory, his tiny lips pecking into your eyelid in an affectionate thanking, Crowley diving in to add his own kiss to your cheek. The road may have been difficult, but this was the reason you struggled back. You held your little family close, Crowley’s stubble prickling against your ear as he whispered his sweet nothings to you, your son clutching his artwork to his chest, explaining every detail to you as you listened, your voice occasionally perking up to compliment his skill, Crowley’s delectable eyes staring back at you from a separate face.
“Welcome home, darling.” Your lover whispered into your ear, your head tilting to rest against his shoulder, your son plucking at the golden tassels as he retold the day’s events in full detail, the three of you laughing at his adventures, drawn to him like moths to a flame, the little prince bouncing joyously, his family reunited once more. You sighed, content, relaxing into Crowley’s arm, the armrest biting into your ribs in the process, your son beaming up at you every few seconds, holding his recreated family to his chest as if it were his most valued possession. Crowley pecked at your cheek, his breath disturbing your hair. “Welcome home.”