#KEI AND I WERE LITERALLY CRYING OVER THESE TWO AND THIS PROMPT AND THIS MAD WOMAN MADE IT REAL IN LESS THAN FIVE HOURS?????????

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

I’M GOING INSANE IM GOINGN INSANE IM GOING INSAN

"please forget your scarf in my life" | sacredshipping

There was simply no time to stay in one place for more than three days when the legendary beast he sought for could cross large distances in a single leap. Consequently, he packed light for his strenuous journey, and any memorabilia that he brought along was regularly accounted for before each departure.

Leaving Ecruteak was always an exception.

No, that wasn't quite right, Eusine pondered. It was leaving Morty that was the anomaly here.

Or: after another stay at Morty's home when he visited Ecruteak City, Eusine forgot one of the most important thing he possessed— a sketchbook containing drawings of the best friend that he grew to love. Who knew that something wonderful could be born from this life-changing mistake?

[fangurk]

She’s Always There (Paul Lahote x Reader)

Key:

Y/n: Your Name

Y/l/n: Your Last Name

Y/n/n: Your Nickname

Y/e/c: Your Eye Color

Y/h/c: Your Hair Color

Prompt Given To Me By @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhghhhh.tumblr.com: hey!! so the reason I'm messaging is because I wanted to request something but can't fit it all into an ask lmao. anyways could i please request a Paul Lahote x reader where the reader has been super close to the whole pack for years and has been Paul's imprint but doesn't know it (bc Sam thought it would be best to keep u away from it all) and they decide to finally tell you about being shapeshifters and being Paul's imprint and you're so mad about them not telling u earlier and there's a huge argument and they and Paul tries to calm you down but you say stuff like 'leave me alone' and things like that and it sounds like you're rejecting him/the bond in ur angry breakdown. anyways Paul is heartbroken and can't get out of bed or eat or anything so the guys finally convince you to come back bc they and Paul need you and it's just the reader cuddling with him and getting him out of bed to take a shower and eat and he realizes that you're not going anywhere and it's just like healing the imprint bond? sorry for this WALL of text, I've just had this idea stuck in my head for a while lol. if you don't want to do it, that's completely fine!! thank you for your time ♡

ok so my guy,, bc this fic has been stuck in my head for a bit, some scenes have developed? so idk i hope this isn't too much, but if u do write it, would u be willing to add like some angst to it, obvi, and maybe a scene/part lol where when the reader tries to get him to shower (bc the misinterpreted rejection made him like super depressed and he just felt low about himself) he won't shower, because he doesn't want to come out and the reader is gone. so either they shower together (not smutty just angst&fluff) or she sits like in the bathroom while he showers LOL. and when he feels a bit better, they go down to eat and he's touching some part of her at all times. if this is too much to like,, include then that's a-okay. i just need to get this OUT of my MIND ugh lmao!/!

Reader Gender: Female

Summary: The Reader has been friends with most of the pack members for her whole life. Which is why, after months of silence and strange changes, she was willing to let them back into her life— until she finds out she’s been told lies that leave her in danger, of course. After a big freak out and two weeks of avoiding them, the boys come begging for her help; it turns out that Paul has some wolf-y claim on her, and whatever she said to him has left him worse for wear...

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Nudity, Angst, and Cursing.

A/n: this is literally like a whole novel I’m so sorry I got carried away. this is kinda based on a lot of fics I read where the imprint has the potential to really hurt people and I named Paul’s dad.

Word Count: 2.9k+

“The legends are real!?”

Y/n Y/l/n hasn’t ever been so disturbed in her entire life.

After weeks of radio silence, Sam Uley’s little ‘gang’, mostly consisting of people she’d known since childhood, had slowly trickled back into her life. What started as a grocery run with Paul or a movie with Jared had turned into big bonfire parties including Jacob Black and his gaggle.

But that was months ago. Months. And now, as she sits by a fire, surrounded on either side by them, they decide to tell her their little secret?

“Y/n.” Sam says as she abruptly stands, eyes stern and hand raised placatingly.

His actions only served to upset her more and her skin bristles with irritation. Sam was acting as if she, a human surrounded by shape shifters, was the unstable one. As if she could do any damage to things built to kill vampires.

“Don’t you dare, Sam.” She clenches her fists, glaring right back at him. “It’s been months- months- and you’re telling me now?”

“It’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up.” He reasons, voice a little less demanding. “We all wanted to be sure that you were ready to know.”

“Ready?!” Y/n laughs mirthlessly, y/e/c eyes wide with disbelief, “When was I supposed to be ready Sam? W-when one of you gored me? When a cold one ripped me apart?”

Her hands shake as she puts them on her forehead, blinking back tears. Growing up all she’d ever heard were stories of humans getting dragged into fights between wolf and vampire, and she couldn’t bring herself to look Emily in the eye because it was suddenly apparent that wolves alone could hurt people too.

It was so bad, whatever happened to Emily, that they said a bear mauled her— Y/n didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not like that, Y/n/n.” Embry chimes in, reaching out to grab his friend's arm.

She yanks her body out of the way and gathers her belongings quickly.

“What is it like then, Call?” She holds her bag to her heaving chest, “because it seems to me that you all have the ability to turn into giant, slobbery freaks that are built for killing vampires and, after completely dropping me for weeks, you decided to keep it secret from me for months. Did it even occur to you that I would’ve been better off knowing right off the bat?!”

No one says anything. Eight shifters and two of their girlfriends sit there, just staring at her like she was speaking a different language.

“You know,” Y/n has to clear her throat to steady her wavering voice, “had you guys really been souped-up on drugs like everyone says, maybe I could’ve handled the lying. But my life was clearly potentially in danger, and you let me hang around without saying anything. I- God I don’t want to see you people right now.”

She leaves with that, stepping over logs and storming back down the beach with determination. Faintly over the roar of her heartbeat, she can hear someone scrambling to stand behind her.

“Wait!— shit, sorry-” Paul grunts, jogging to catch up with her- “Y/n-“

With an unusual gentleness, his warm hand wrapped around her forearm. For a moment, deep in the back of her mind, a foreign feeling tells her to stop, to listen; but that small voice is quickly smothered by the rational part of her brain, and she wrenches her arm from his grip.

“Don’t touch me!” She snaps, lowering her voice, “Leave me alone- I need to be alone.”

Paul stands there, dumbstruck, an unreadable look in his eyes as she walks away. And he’d continue to stand there, looking like a kicked puppy long after her retreating form became a blur amongst the darkness of the beach.

“Paul?” Sam is hesitant, hand hovering over the younger boy’s shoulder a minute before he touches him, “You okay?”

Shrugging his leader’s arm off his shoulder, Paul sighs. “No...I...I’m just gonna head home.”

Instead of going in the directions of the cars, the wolf stalks off toward the woods; Emily stands from her seat, wrapping her sweater more around herself as she watches Paul leave. Concern is written all over her features.

“He’ll be fine, Em,” He pulls her in for a hug, “it’ll all work out eventually.”

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Y/n does a good job of avoiding them for a while.

She turns her phone off a few days in and avoids going to First Beach, even when Washington gets a rare, warm summer feel. Books that have sat long forgotten on her shelves get read and TV shows she’s always meant to catch up on get watched; it’s boring and she runs out of options, at one point thinking of dying her hair y/f/c just to spice things up, but it allows her to think. (Or at least it allows this strange little voice in the back of her head to tell her that she needs to go back to them.)

The next time she sees any of the boys is exactly two weeks after the bonfire incident.

She’s curled up on her couch, picking at some of the Clearwaters’ fish fry and barely watching an episode of ANTM, when a fist comes banging down on her door. Turning off the TV, she tiptoes to the window, peeking under the curtain as carefully as she can.

As she expected, Jared Cameron and Embry Call are on her porch, the former standing in front of her door with his hip cocked, the other rooting around in her mother’s plants for something. Cringing, she hopes if she’s quiet enough that they’ll just go away.

Her front door opens within minutes, however, and she realizes her hoping is fruitless.

Should’ve known you can’t hide from wolves, she can’t help but think bitterly.

“Y/n?” Jared calls out through the house, “we know you’re here.”

“Yeah, and you guys should probably move your spare key,” Embry tacks on, flicking the light switch to the living room up, “I've known you forever and it’s still in the same place.”

From her spot by the window, the y/h/c haired girl glares at the two boys, arms crossed over her chest. Embry gives her a lopsided grin and holds the key out to her, his bud plopping down on the couch and pulling her abandoned plate into his lap.

Y/n extends a hand to take the key.

“Has it really been in the same place?” She sounds a little more defeated than she’d like.

“Yeah, it’s always been in your mother’s cornflower pot.”

“That’s...kinda sad.” She wrinkles her nose, pocketing the key with the intention to hide it better later, “but uh, I’ve been ignoring you for two weeks for a reason. Peacefully breaking into my house kinda furthers my need for space.”

Embry scratches the back of his neck.

“Well,” He says, “we need you to come back, man. Paul won’t talk to anyone- Sam doesn’t know if he’s eating, and he won’t even get out of bed for patrol! He needs his imprint-”

“His what?” She cocks her head to the side and Jared snorts from the couch.

“She left before we got there, nimrod,” Jared mocks through a mouthful of food, “she doesn’t know what an imprint is.”

He lets out an indignant “Hey!” as Y/n walks by, snatching her plate back from him on her way to the kitchen. Embry chases after her, a grumpy Jared jumping up from the couch to follow.

“You’re his imprint— you’re basically his soulmate!”

“Really?” She says warily, sealing the fish and putting it back in the fridge.

Both boys nod clumsily.

“You remember a few weeks ago when you saw each other for the first time again and he kinda just stood there like an idiot while you talked?”

“Yeah? Oh!-” She brings her hands up to her mouth, brows furrowed as she recalls.

It was exactly Jared had said. She and Paul had seen one another for the first time in a long time and the minute her y/e/c eyes looked into his, it was like he’d been struck dumb.

Embry gives her an encouraging look, “An imprint is...It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like… gravity moves… suddenly. It's not the earth holding you here anymore, she does… You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that's a protector, or a lover, or a friend. When you snapped at him last week he thought you were rejecting him….”

A part of her thought about how absurd it was that he knew that whole speech. But the bigger part of her came to a realization that made her stomach churn.

“So he's all depressed… because… of me?” She whispers, leaning back on the counter.

Embry, always a rather sympathetic person, opens his mouth to comfort her, but Jared cuts him off.

“Basically. So are you going to come with us so we can help Paul or are you going to continue being petty?”

In any other circumstance, Y/n probably would’ve thrown something at her for calling her petty. She felt she was completely justified in her actions. A part of her wonders if she can really believe them— they’d spent months lying to her after all. But a larger part thinks about Paul, curled up in his bed, slowly desecrating because he thinks she rejected him.

If it were really all some ploy to get her to listen to them, then she’d at least be the person who chose the well-being of her friend over a petty disagreement.

“I’m coming.” She affirms, pushing herself off the counter, and letting the boys lead her to the car.

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Jared and Embry drop her off in front of the Lahote household. They tell her something but she can’t really hear them over her heartbeat, she doesn’t even know they’re gone until it’s too late to turn back.

Getting into the house wasn’t the hard part. Paul’s father, Cyrus, had been leaving as she arrived, and, after he watched her stare at the house with a fearful expression for a few minutes, he happily let her in. The hard part was willing her legs to take her up the stairs to Paul’s room, and then it was opening his bedroom door.

Y/n has known Paul since they were eight, but she was afraid of him until they were eleven. He wasn’t mean, per se, but his anger made him do mean things; she wasn’t entirely happy with puberty and it’s monthly gifts, but whatever it did to make her suddenly un-afraid of him she was grateful for. But now, standing in front of his bedroom door, she had a nagging fear that Paul would revert to that eight year old boy who threw lunch boxes and twisted arms behind backs until people cried.

The door creaks slightly as she struggles to push it open.

His room is almost completely dark except for the light coming from the hallway behind her. Trash and dirty clothes have formed a compact layer on his bedroom floor, foot sized holes leading up to the twin sized bed in the corner. On the bed, amongst the blankets she’s sure he doesn’t need, is Paul— or at least, a Paul sized lump.

As gross as it is, she’s kind of relieved he’s been eating.

“Paul?” She whispers tentatively, stepping toward the bed.

The lump flinches and turns toward her.

“Y/n?”

If the room and the description of his state weren’t heartbreaking enough, his voice definitely was. Hollow, rough, and small, everything it never was, everything Paul wasn’t.

“Is that you?”

“Yeah...it’s me..”

She carefully steps over to the bed, and Paul slowly sits up, pushing his blankets to the side. There’s a beat of silence as she stands between his legs, his reluctant hands coming to rest on her waist after a minute. Y/n let’s him have another to gather his thoughts.

“You really came…” Tears well up in his eyes and loops his arms around her back.

She runs a hand through his hair. “I did, and I’m so sorry, if I had known—”

Paul nuzzles her stomach, “S’fine, you didn’t know, and you’re here now.”

There’s a sort of cute, euphoria lacing his voice and he’s visibly much more relaxed.

“Just don’t ever say that again…”

“I won’t, I promise.”

She’s surprised when he manhandles her into his lap, but she doesn’t really mind. He’s warm and strangely familiar and something about it just— clicks.

“When was the last time you spent, I dunno, a minute or two out of your room?” Y/n asks softly, y/e/c eyes glancing about the room.

The shifter’s only response is a shrug, too busy nosing around her neck with vigor. When he finds a certain spot, it makes her squeak, and this seems to excite him like a puppy finding out its favorite toy makes noise.

“You need to bathe, eat something substantial,” She intertwines their fingers, “and the...pack...they’re really worried about you— are you even listening to me?”

He looks up at her then and flashes her a sheepish smile, answering her question. Pursing her lips, she pulls his arms from around her.

“C’mon, Paul.” She stands up and takes his hand. “We’re gonna get you cleaned up.”

She moves toward the door, urging him forward, only to be jerked to a stop as he stays put. He looks a little distressed when she turns back to him, brows furrowed, almost like he’s in pain.

“Paul?”

He grunts, jaw clenched as the cogs turn in his head. Y/n cocks her head and reaches out for his other hand. It felt like some sort of supernatural intuition, one she’ll blame on the imprint and ask Emily about later.

“Paul, hon, why won’t you come shower?”

“I’m afraid you'll leave,” He says bashfully, “it’s stupid, I know, but part of me is afraid you’ll leave while I’m in the shower.”

Y/n couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken at his confession. Paul was part wolf, and part of being part wolf was imprinting— she almost wishes she’d have stayed long enough to listen, or been able to focus as the boys debriefed her on the ride over because only being able to speculate how much she’d actually hurt him was eating her alive. He wouldn’t even shower, something he desperately needed to do, because of what she’d said.

Taking a deep breath, she barely registers the words she’s about to say.

“I’ll wait with you, I’ll sit on the toilet, you’ll see me there.”

And true to her word, Y/n does sit on the toilet while Paul showers, reading the information on soap bottles to distract herself from the fact that he was there next to her, very naked. Occasionally he asks her what she’s doing, and she reads the ingredients out loud to the best of her ability, and he laughs a little— she tries to hide her smile, but she was too happy he was laughing.

She closes her eyes when he gets out, letting him dry himself off and pull on some clean shorts. He throws the wet towel at her when he’s done, eliciting a “Hey!” that makes him laugh again.

Now that he’s clean, the two of them descend into his quiet house. Y/n navigates the kitchen, her wolf attached to her hip and being less than helpful, and makes them both something to eat— he doesn’t do much more than stand behind her, wrapped around her, making her life more difficult.

“I’m so happy you came back.” He says, watching her work.

“I was always going to.” Y/n responds, her voice sure and steady.

They talk as they eat, sitting across from one another at the too big table in the Lahote household. Talk about how this was going to work, admitting feelings that always lingered, and everything in between; she hooks her leg around his, watching him scarf down his meal with a wrinkled nose and fondness glittering in her y/e/c eyes.

He’s...gross...but he’s hers, she’s kind of stuck with him.

A date is planned. An actual date.

Paul promises to take her to the local diner (and to wear a shirt, for once.)

“I’ve been saving up for something like this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and you can get that dessert you like.”

Y/n laughs softly, but heat spreads up her neck and settles in her ears and cheeks. It’d been a long time since that had been her favorite food, but it was the thought that counted...

When Cyrus Lahote returns from work later that night his son and the Y/l/n girl are awkwardly situated on his couch— him on his back, snoring, her lying on top of him, face tucked into his neck, also fast asleep. The older man turns off the TV and tosses a blanket over the pair, ascending up the stairs with a smile on his face.

Y/n Y/l/n was trustworthy. She’s always there when Paul is in a rut too big for him to handle...

[plsimsuchasimp]

i’m sorry (ft: sugawara).

by request: “Hi!!!! Okay im so glad your requests are open - could I please request some angst with Sugawara? Where the reader is his best friend and secretly loves him but he doesn’t know? Then maybe the reader and Suga fight and then reader gets hurt or something (maybe a car accident) and when the Karasuno team finds out, Suga is devastated and goes to the hospital and tell the reader that he loves them?? Thank you!! ❤️” -anon

yes anon i’m happy to do this- i kinda changed up the prompt a lil bit so i’m sorry about that but i hope this measures up to your standards! (i’m ridiculously soft for suga so this makes sense)

genre: sadness (literal tears were shed in the process of making this)

ft: sugawara koushi x reader

warnings: car crash, fighting, cursing, hospitalization, death

wc: 2k

“Y/n, why are you so upset? I get that you’re concerned, and I’m grateful for that, but she’s genuinely a good person and I’m serious about her!” Suga walks away from you, his back turned, shoulders raised slightly in his sweater. You can sense his frustration, his confusion, but you don’t care. His face is pouty, lip sticking out ever so slightly, and you know you can’t look at him or you won’t be able to keep yourself from kissing him right then and there.

The thing is, you know she’s a good person. And that’s what hurts. See, you’ve been in love with Sugawara Koushi since the day you met him at the bus stop five years ago, on a hot summer day with a butterfly in his hair.

You can’t stop him from getting a new girlfriend, and you know it’s selfish of you to hope he likes you the way you like him, to hold on to him for all these years.

Sometimes when it’s late, you let yourself drift into your memories. The spring days when he would take you hiking, out into the mountains to show you his favorite spots, the times when your stomachs hurt from laughing at the dirty jokes he found off of random places on the internet, the rainy moments and baking cookies when it just seemed calm. With Suga, you felt at home like nowhere else. 

Now, your eyes sting unfairly, and you turn away from him as he glares towards you, brow furrowed. Struggling to keep your voice even, you say, “I know, okay Kou? I just- I don’t know, she gives me bad vibes.”

You know he doesn’t mean to be rude, but when he scoffs, your heart squeezes just a bit and tears prick your eyes. “You’re telling me to call off a whole relationship because she gives you bad vibes? You did this with all of my exes, too!” Suga sighs, hands on his hips. “You know you’re my best friend, but honestly, y/n, this has to stop. You can’t control my life!” 

He’s right. You know he’s right, and that’s the harsh thing about it. You want him all to yourself- everything about him is entrancing, intoxicating, familiar. Jealousy is a bitch.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

At this point, his jaw drops open at the sheer audacity of your remark. “I can’t do this with you today.” He throws up his hands and sits on the bed, making it clear he doesn’t really want to talk anymore.

Suga never really fights with you. He teases endlessly, but he always stops himself before he really hurts you, and the fights between the two of you are always calmer on his side. He’s usually the first to apologize, but it seems this is a sticking point for the two of you.

“Well? Go!” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he regrets it. You flinch backwards at his words, and he doesn’t miss the unmistakable glint of tears in your eyes as you walk out of the room.

“Fine, I guess I will!” As soon as you’re outside, you cover your mouth with your hand, your vision blurred from large drops threatening to spill from your eyelashes. You muffle your sobs with the sleeve of a sweatshirt Suga lent you, and it just makes you cry harder when you breathe in his slight cologne. 

He wasn’t going to let her go this time. You missed your chance.

You’re running, but where to? As soon as your thoughts stop spinning, your feet freeze, and you glance around you. Shaky breaths escape you as you duck your head and attempt to cross the street, questioning looks from passerby making your cheeks heat up. 

All of a sudden, you hear a car horn and freeze to see a car speeding towards you, out of control. The last thing you see before everything goes black is a child pointing at you, and you almost laugh at the incredulity of the situation. Then you black out on impact.

Back at Suga’s home, he sits in his bed, running his fingers through his silky hair. He curses under his breath, already hating the feeling. 

He hates when the only person he’s ever truly loved is mad at him. 

Honestly, Koushi can’t fathom why he keeps getting other people to date him, momentary distractions from his everlasting affection for you. You, the only person who’s there for him when he’s hurting, the only real friend to stay near him through everything, the only person he fell in love with on first sight. He wanted to be with you, but he didn’t want to ruin this was. 

Better to be certain friends with you and never get what he truly wanted than to try and lose you completely.

Suga picks up the phone to text you when he receives a call from an unfamiliar number, marked as the hospital of your district.

“Hello?"

“Is this Sugawara Koushi?” The female voice on the other end of the line asks.

“Yes, is everything okay?” He responds, curious as to why the hospital is calling him in the middle of the day.

“Well, we have Y/N L/N here, and you’re listed as one of their emergency contacts. Would you mind coming to the hospital to fill out some paperwork?”

Immediately, his world freezes. “W-what did you say?”

“I said, Y/N L/N is in the hospital and we need you to come in and see them.” She’s patient with him, voice even and calm, clearly used to people in shock from news of their loved ones. “They were involved in a car accident.”

He nods, momentarily forgetting she can’t see him. “Yeah, I’m on my way.” 

The line clicks, and he sits there for only a minute before hurrying down to his car, grabbing the keys and starting the car. He seems to forget basic movements, mind consumed only with thoughts of you. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered, edging above the speed limit on the road. He was tempted to honk at someone, but refrains from it, knowing it won’t help with the turmoil of emotions he was feeling.

Then, it hit him. This was his fault. He almost stopped the car in the middle of the road, throat closing as guilt washed over him. Koushi didn’t know you’d take it so hard, didn’t mean for it to come off that harshly.

He arrived at the hospital, and as he walked in, the receptionist looked up at him.

“Sugawara Koushi?” 

“Yes,” he said, and watched the smile slowly fade from her face. He noticed she tried to hide it, ducking her head, but it was too late. “Are they- are they going to be okay?” he gulped as she didn’t respond.

“Room 208,” she said curtly, “You should probably go in.”

The lights seemed to blur into each other as Suga practically ran to your room. Every footstep seemed to take forever, travel only a few centimeters forward. He couldn’t get there fast enough, accidentally bumping into the wall and muttering a hushed “sorry” to it.

He arrived. The door was almost too heavy, or maybe it was just the fear making his limbs heavy as lead.

There you lay, and it was worse than he thought.  Tubes of all sorts trailed from your body to things around the bed, crowding and seeming to close you in. Scratches ran down your cheek and there was dried blood on your hairline, streaking down your face. The breath fell from his throat and he stood in the doorway, paralyzed. 

This could not be happening. 

One look and he could tell you weren’t going to be okay. An IV drip led into your left arm, and you were unconscious, so fragile, so angelic. It looked as if you were only sleeping, like the countless times you’d snuggled into Suga’s shoulder in the warm summer nights, staring at the blanket of glittering stars far above. The ones in your eyes, though, outshone them all. 

When you slept, you always seemed so peaceful, so comforted, but now your brow was slightly furrowed, your lips drained of color and slightly parted. Even in this state, you were still the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

Shakily, he made his way to the chair and sat down in it. He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry, and tears were dripping down his face before he could wipe them away. A choked sob escaped him as he reached out his hand, hovering over your limp one. 

He took your hand, and he hunched over to feel how cold it was. Your hands were always colder than his, which made him a perfect match for you. Never before, though, had he felt this ice. 

Suga’s shoulders began to shake, and he clutched your hand, silently begging you not to leave, please please please don’t leave me, i don’t know if i can survive without you. Of course, there was no response but the steady beep of the heart monitor, the only thing reassuring him that you were still there. 

Shaking, he brought your hand to his lips, barely brushing them against your knuckles. 

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Whispered words fell gently from his lips, trying to stay composed for you. “Please stay with me. Please don’t leave.” His tone rises, voice breaking in desperation. “P-please.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He rocked back and forth, holding your hand as if it was the only thing tying him down. “I-I love you.”

There. He said it, those three words he’d wanted to say since the day he saw you smile for the first time. Hopelessly, madly, endlessly in love with you, only you. 

When you didn’t respond, he let himself sob, let the pain overtake him. Hot, salty tears spilled onto your hand, and he silently wished for a sign, a movement, anything to show that you weren’t gone just yet.

In that moment, he whispered everything he wanted to say to you, a thousand words choking him and clogging his throat to the point where he couldn’t breathe anymore.

The doctor came in, shutting the door silently behind him. “Sugawara-”

“Call me Suga.” His voice was quiet, reserved, threatening to break.

“I’m afraid y/n isn’t going to make it.” The doctor sighed, mercifully pretending not to notice Suga’s muffled cry. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“You’re joking, right?” Suga raised his head, puffy, red eyes desperate. “Please- tell me you’re joking.” The silence from the doctor told him otherwise, and Suga felt his heart shatter in that instant.

He squeezed your hand, and just as he did, the heart monitor stopped beeping, a flat tone emitting from it. He couldn’t stop the heartbroken cry from spilling from his mouth, his breath stolen by the endless constriction of guilt and grief in his chest. 

He stayed there for another two hours, crying over your hand limp in his grasp. When Daichi arrived at the hospital to drive him home, he didn’t want to leave. 

Suga stared out of the car window, numb. It was impossible- the world couldn’t be this cruel. 

It’s your fault, your fault, your fault, the voice in his head whispered. The broken sobs that spilled out of him hurt, stabbed at his breathing, but he didn’t care. It was his fault that you were gone, forever. 

The rest of the day passed in a haze, the sun setting with flared colors that you would have loved. The stars were brilliant, but Suga couldn’t look at them. His pillow smelled like you, and everywhere he looked had some imprint, some memory of you. You were the only person he’d ever love, and you had been stolen from the world in an instant.

In the months afterwards, nothing was the same. He saw you everywhere, expecting to see your texts pop up on his phone, accidentally ordered your drink at the boba place you would always go to. 

At the funeral, his stiff black suit seemed awkward, but you always said he looked handsome in one. That was the last time he got to see your face besides pictures, the fading memory of the person who loved him for who he was.

the person who he would love for the rest of his life.

you’re an angel in my eyes.

a/n: tbh this is probably one of the most painful things i’ve written so far suga im so sorry also THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 50 FOLLOWERS ITS CRAZY i finished this at 2am i’m going to be so sad if it flops <\3

[mrswhozeewhatsis]

Soft

A/N: This is for both the @spnfanficpond's S14 Weekly Episode Challenge, week 20, and also this month's Alpha Reader Program with @deanwinchesterswitch! Kym is a great Alpha reader, putting up with so much babbling of ideas with me!!

Summary: Chuck is depowered, Jack de-poofed Eileen and Y/N, and they all rescued Cas from the Empty. (The finale never happened fight me.) Now, with no more Big Bads on the horizon, Dean needs to figure out what his happily ever after looks like. Once he does, then he needs to go get it.

Pairing: Destiel x reader

Warnings: Pining. Idjits in love. Canon-divergent after 15x19. Fluff.

Word count: 4311 words

Prompt: "I'll stop talking." "Probably a good idea."

Dean watches her throw her arms around Cas’s waist and really snuggle into his embrace. It’s done. Chuck is depowered, Jack is in charge, Y/N is back, and now Cas is back. Everything is as it should be. Dean pats Cas on the shoulder, meeting his gaze with a smile he can feel is strained, locks eyes for a second with Y/N, and heads towards his room via the drink trolley. A little time resting in the only soft thing he’s ever been allowed to keep is definitely in order.

Sitting on his bed, back propped against the headboard and whiskey bottle in hand, he forces himself to consider everything he’s been trying not to think about for far too long. Cas will want to talk at some point, and Dean knows he can’t get it wrong. Well, no, he actually could get it all very disastrously wrong, but this time, he doesn’t want to.

And he has so very much to think about if he wants any chance to get this right. First, he needs to decide what “right” looks like.

If you’d asked him a few years ago what a good life looked like, he would have denied Cas’s place in it. There were just so many reasons why Cas couldn’t be a part of any picture he’d have painted back then. That was before, though. Before Cas told him, unequivocally, that he loved Dean in a way he thought he couldn’t have.

Maybe a year ago, if Cas had said those same words, Dean would have jumped into his arms and kissed the hell out of him. At that point, he’d finally admitted to himself that Cas was more to him. That Cas meant more than Dean’s fear of someone thinking he liked dick. Cas meant more than his hang-ups about how sex worked with a dude. Cas was more than a guy, and not simply because he wasn’t human. Angel or not, Cas was Dean’s person.

That was before, though. Before Mary died. Before Chuck had his little hissy fit. Before Dean acted like an ass… again. Before Y/N.

Now, Dean sits on his bed, not drinking the whiskey in his hand because he knows it won’t help. He needs to think clearly. He needs to decide how he feels. He’s loved Cas for years. But he’s beginning to think that maybe he loves her, too.

She appeared with the army of hunters that had arrived when Chuck opened Hell. She was relatively new to hunting, so when her partner died early on, she needed an experienced partner. With Dean barely speaking to him, Cas needed something to focus on, and he took her under his wing, so to speak. Which meant Dean barely spoke to her, either, outside of barking orders.

He was just so angry at the time, and it spilled onto her. Dean didn’t want Cas around him, but then he didn’t want Cas focusing on her, either. Or giving her that squinty head tilt. Hugging her while she grieved her partner. Talking to her about lore and weapons and sigils.

With Jack and Rowena dead, Y/N filled the fourth seat in the Impala just a little too quickly for Dean’s liking. And it had nothing to do with how fondly Cas looked at her when she fell asleep on his shoulder. Yeah, he understood that she needed training and experience, but there were a million other hunters fighting ghosts and zombies with them that she could have joined.

Dean was so mad, Cas left. And she went with him. And no, Dean did not spend several sleepless nights wondering about the sexual orientation of angels.

She and Cas were hunting partners for a while, but then Cas went to Heaven, so she moved into the bunker and never left. Dean tried not to dump his shit on her, knowing that it was his shit and not hers and he was being a dick, but she was everywhere—cooking in the kitchen, beating up the heavy bag in the gym, shooting curse words into the paper targets in the range. Dean didn’t want to laugh when she slapped one on his chest that read “DICK” as she walked out the door. He also didn’t want to deck Fancypants Dean from the other world when he asked her to go with them to Rio and then kissed her, dipped her like a 50’s heroine and everything, right in front of him!

And he definitely didn’t want to miss her when she left again with Cas. They were gone, again. Alone. Soon, he realized that he missed the smell of her cooking. He stared at the taped-over hole she left in the heavy bag when she tried attacking it while wearing heels. He tried to forget how lethal she was in the gun range. He failed to stop wondering how many beds were in the motel room they were sharing each night.

He got better about not being a dick to her when they returned. He even shared his pie. The first time she gave him one of her hundred-watt smiles, he nearly melted. She offered to help wash Baby, and he accepted. Not being a dick got easier as they became friends.

Then Chuck killed her. Just poofed her into nothing. A finger snap and Dean felt like he was back on the rack, a knife slicing into his heart. Why? Watching Cas mourn her was almost as hard as admitting that he felt the same way. He shouldn’t feel this way. They were friends. But the pain and grief in Cas’s eyes were mirrored in his chest. Not that he could say that to anyone. She was Cas’s… something.

Yet, before the Shadow swallowed him and Billie whole, Cas still said that his moment of complete happiness was loving Dean.

After Cas was gone, Dean sat on the floor in the dungeon and wondered at the complete lack of black goo anywhere. It had seemed to be everywhere but had left no trace. His mind bounced against the image of Cas getting swallowed whole and ricocheted into the image of Y/N poofing into thin air. Sam’s face when he picked up Eileen’s car keys, phone, and wallet. Jack’s face burning brightly when Chuck killed him in the graveyard. Mom’s face when he wrapped a shroud around the body that wasn’t hers. Charlie’s face as she lay in that awful motel bathtub. Bobby’s face as he called them idjits one last time. Dad’s face when the doctors tried to revive him, but he was already long gone.

Dean went on autopilot. He got up from the floor, drove to Sam and Jack, and then, he … did what needed to be done. On the drive away from Chuck’s defeat, Dean tried to imagine the life ahead of him without Chuck’s influence. Just him and Sam and Jack. He pictured them in the bunker, all in black and white like the old photos of the Men of Letters in the archives. Nothing big to fight, only little hunts. Maybe there would be the occasional trip to Hell to visit Rowena. Maybe Rowena could use a hand down there? Hell sounded nice, this time of year. You know, when everyone else is dead….

Dean didn’t let himself complete that thought. He still had Sam.

Then Jack brought back Y/N and Eileen. Color returned to Dean’s world. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than Heaven or Hell. With Y/N in his arms, all he could think about was Cas. Dean needed Cas back, even if it meant watching them ride off into the sunset together. When Jack said he couldn’t get Cas as easily as he’d gotten Y/N and Eileen, she ended up crying in Dean’s arms, letting him comfort her. She comforted him. They comforted each other.

Before the big rescue, Dean decided that if Cas and Y/N chose to go off and live a happy life together, he’d wish them well, even if it meant drowning himself in whiskey.

But now they’re both here. When their departure was hypothetical, it was easy to convince himself that he could be supportive. Now that he was up against the reality of it, he could barely breathe. Yes, the two of them alive and happy together without him is better than the two of them dead, but….

Dean puts down the whiskey and grabs an open bottle of what is probably very stale water off his desk. He drinks it down and then stares at the whiskey bottle. He tries to breathe through the pain in his chest caused by the prospect of visiting Cas and Y/N in their little country cottage with the white picket fence and beehives in the backyard. Oh, how he wants to drink something stronger than water and make this pain stop.

No. He needs to say this to himself completely sober.

“I want them,” he announces to the room, quietly enough that no one outside could hear, but the words still echo in his ears. “No, I don’t just want them. I want a bacon double cheeseburger with extra onions and a slice of apple pie with a scoop of ice cream on top. I need them. I need Cas, and I need her, and I need to stop acting like I don’t.”

Picturing the little country cottage once more, he shakes his head. “I have to try. Cas said he loved me. Y/N at least doesn’t think I’m a dick. I can’t do nothing, anymore. I have to try. I have to tell them both and at least ask them to give me a chance.”

Dean pulls at his hair and sighs. “But that’s not how the world works. I can’t have them both. I need to decide who to talk to first. I need to choose.”

The angel that literally saved him from Hell but wears a vessel Dean doesn’t know how to handle, or the woman who would be the complete package if he weren’t already in love with Cas.

“How do I choose?”

And that’s all assuming that either of them even (still) wants him. Cas may have changed his mind after Dean stood there stupidly and said freaking nothing while the Empty swallowed him whole. And she’s never really indicated that she wanted anyone but Cas. And Cas has always seemed perfectly happy to indulge her attentions. Hell, maybe they will go off together to that cottage in the country and leave him alone. After the way he’s acted, it’s the least he deserves.

“If I even have a choice, I can’t choose.”

Pacing the room, he kneads the problem in his mind like a baker would knead dough. After only a couple of minutes, he tires of rolling around a thousand “what ifs” in his head and stops in front of his bedroom door, hand almost grabbing the knob to turn it.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” he asks himself, trying to give himself the courage to move. “They both say they don’t want me, they only want each other, and I’m left alone, like I’ve always been. Nothing changes for me.”

Swallowing down the blast of grief that idea causes, he takes a deep breath and watches from outside of his body as he turns the doorknob and walks down the hallway.

He hears her voice coming from her room long before he reaches it, but he’s almost in the doorway before he can make out the words she’s saying. She’s chattering in that way she does when she’s excited or nervous about something, and his heart clenches as he wonders what’s got her so jittery.

“It’s just that there’s so much to consider and so many possibilities and I’ve been waiting until now to think about it and oh god now I’m rambling and we really need to come up with a better phrase for that now that Chuck’s not in power andfuckinghellIthinkI’llstoptalking.”

Dean watches her put a hand over her mouth to stop the flow of words and can’t stop his smile. She’s adorable.

Cas sees Dean in the doorway, gives her a gentle smile, and says, “That’s probably a good idea.” He nods his head towards Dean, and she turns to look at him. They’re both sitting on the side of the bed, one of her hands is encased in both of his, and Dean feels his heart wrench at what that might mean.

He tries to read their expressions, get a feel for what’s happening in the room, but his own feelings are overwhelming him. They’re both right here, staring at him, while he’s staring at them, and no one is saying anything!

“Uh,” he starts —oh, you’re doing great there, Dean, so eloquent— before clearing his throat and taking a steadying breath, “I don’t want to interrupt you guys?”

Cas smiles, but Y/N gulps and shakes her head.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says in that way that always makes Dean feel warm inside. “It’s okay. What do you need?”

Dean tries again to read their expressions, but all he can feel is tension. Is it coming from him? “I, uh, need you,” he says to both of them, bouncing his gaze back and forth between them.

Cas stands up, letting go of Y/N’s hands, and pats her on the shoulder. “I’ll let you guys have some time alone. We can finish this later, right?”

Y/N nods, but Dean stops Cas from leaving the room with a hand on his arm. “No, Cas, I mean both of you.” Wishing that he could simply snap his fingers and have both of them automatically understand, he stares into Cas’s eyes like he’s done so many times before, trying to will his jumble of thoughts into the angel’s head.

Cas must only get static, though, because he smiles his same old fond smile, puts his hand on Dean’s left shoulder like he always does, and replies, “Of course, Dean. I’m always here when you need me. How can I help?”

Dean groans, wiping down his face with his hand while his shoulders droop. “Fuck, this is hard,” he mutters, then leads Cas back to where he’d been sitting on the bed, drags over the desk chair, and sits facing them both. “Look, I don’t do chick flick stuff, and you guys both know that, so bear with me, okay?”

Cas and Y/N both nod, and Dean wishes he had the whiskey bottle with him. Maybe a little in vino veritas would help him get through this. Staring at the two of them, he doesn’t even know where to start. He looks back and forth at each of them again, noting that they’re holding hands once more, and focuses on that.

“Look, guys, I know you two are,” he waves a hand around trying to indicate what he means, “together? Involved? Whatever you want to call it since we’re not in high school and we’ve all worked to derail an apocalypse or two. And I don’t want to mess with that. Well, not exactly. Wait, that’s not what I meant.” He takes a steadying breath and mutters, “Fuck, this is hard,” yet again.

He looks up and finally notices that both Cas and Y/N are now considerably less relaxed than they were a minute ago. Both sit stiff-backed, trying to look at anything but each other, and their hands are no longer linked.

“Wait, you guys are together, right?” Dean asks, suddenly questioning every moment he’s ever seen between them.

Y/N clears her throat and replies, “Well, that’s kind of what I was trying to talk to Cas about when you came in.” Her eyes bounce between Cas and Dean nervously and she shifts her position on the bed a little so she’s facing towards Cas a little more. “Cas, part of what I was trying to say is that I have, you know, feelings for you, that are, well, more than friendship.” Her words rush faster and faster until she gets to the end. “I held it in for so long, and then I was dead, and you were dead, and it was all awful, but now we’re back, and we’re here, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel what I feel.” She ends with a small gasp of much-needed air and then stares fearfully at the angel while she carefully exhales.

Cas tilts his head and squints, and Y/N slowly deflates a little bit more with every moment Cas takes to reply. Dean had no idea what he was walking into but somehow feels a little better knowing he’s not the only one feeling the need to put things on the table. The only concern now is that he might be watching the two people he wants so very much get together right in front of him, without him. Well, I’ll always have Sammy and visits to Rowena in Hell, he thinks.

“Cas? Please say something,” Y/N pleads, the panic becoming clear to Dean as her breathing quickens and her hands fumble in her lap.

“I thought you were in love with Dean?” Cas blurts out, leaving all three of them exchanging looks between them.

Dean sits up straighter and glances between Cas and Y/N, but focuses more on Y/N. “Really?” He can’t stop the word from leaving his mouth. He’s too excited by the possibility. Doing the math in his head, his heart starts to race happily. Half a chance Cas really loves him like he said, half a chance Y/N loves him like Cas said, that equals a whole chance he might actually get at least half of what he wants.

Completely ignorant to the social graces surrounding admitting other people’s feelings for other people to those other people, Cas just keeps going, turning to Dean. “Yes. I’ve noticed her engaging in some of the social actions that usually indicate romantic affection towards you. I assumed that meant she had feelings for you.”

Dean looks at Cas, then throws his hands up in the air. “Well, I’ve been watching the two of you cuddle up together all the time like two peas in a damn pod, so I knew she had feelings for you! And you’ve been cuddling right back, so I figured that meant the two of you were a thing, no matter what you said!”

Face glowing a bright red, Y/N interrupted the staring contest between the two men. “Well, I’ve been watching all the eye-fucking between you two since day one, so I thought you two were a thing! I mean, seriously, you two need to kiss or fuck or something so the rest of us can breathe clear air, again!”

Both Dean and Cas turn to stare at Y/N.

“What? You two had no problem talking about my feelings! Turnabout’s fair play!”

Cas takes hold of Y/N’s hand to ground her and says, “So, you have romantic feelings for both of us, then?”

Fear washes over her face as she nods, nervously glancing between the two of them.

Cas smiles. “And I have romantic feelings for both of you,” he states. The two of them smile at each other for a moment and then turn to Dean in unison. Their hands are clutched together, knuckles white with tension.

With two pairs of striking eyes staring at him, Dean squirms.

“Dean, we would very much appreciate you telling us what you’re thinking and feeling, right now,” Cas said, using his calmest and most caring voice. “I believe the phrase is, ‘this is a safe space.’”

Dean takes a steadying breath, looks at each of them individually, and decides there’s no use running now. He’s here. He knows there will be a soft landing when he jumps. He’s jumped into worse with less and come out winning. He can do this.

Dean takes Y/N’s free hand in one of his and squeezes it while he decides what words to use. She relaxes, her shoulders dropping, but Dean notices Cas stiffen out of the corner of his eye. Dean stiffens right along with him, bringing his eyes up just in time to see the flash of disappointment in Cas’s eyes before it disappears.

Fuck, he’s screwing this all up, already.

Words are still foreign things he can’t seem to grasp, so he decides to act instead. Still holding Y/N’s hand, he reaches with his other hand to grasp Cas’s neck and pull him in.

The kiss is awkward as hell. Cas’s eyes are wide open when Dean closes his, and then teeth clash, and Cas stays frozen while Dean tries to gently kiss some life into him. Right before Dean is about to pull away and question all his life choices, Cas melts. Cas’s hand is suddenly in Dean’s hair, pulling Dean closer as the kiss turns into the warmest, loveliest kiss Dean’s ever experienced. Cas’s lips are as soft as Dean ever imagined, the little bit of rough stubble a new but not awful feeling, and Dean’s pretty sure he could do this for hours and never come up for air. Maybe it would kill him, but he’d be okay dying this way.

Eventually, the kiss turns to little nibbles, and then they simply sit there for a moment, foreheads together and eyes closed, feeling the warmth of each other.

“I didn’t think you could feel what I feel,” Dean whispered. “And then you said you could, and you did, and then you were gone, and it was too late.” He shifts only enough to press his lips to Cas’s again one more time. “You can have everything you want, angel,” he says, pulling back enough to look Cas in the eyes.

Cas’s smile is as wide and happy as Dean’s ever seen it. They stare at each other for another one of those long moments where Dean swears Cas must be able to freeze time. Cas’s eyes shift away from Dean, and he’s reminded that he’s staring at only half of his happiness.

The other half is still holding his hand, watching him and Cas with wide eyes and a shy smile. With nothing left to lose, Dean leans in and feels the rest of his world click into place as his lips settle perfectly on hers. The kiss with her is different, and yet also the same in how right it feels. She opens her mouth a little, and their tongues slide together like they’ve done this a hundred times before. When they finally break apart, he doesn’t know what to say, so he just lets his smile loose. She smiles back, and he knows she understands.

Everything in him wants to keep going back and forth, kissing them both, but there’s always that little voice inside his head —which sounds a bit like Chuck, these days— that tells him that this isn’t real. It makes him slow down a bit, lean back in his chair, and enjoy looking at the two people in front of him. He watches the two of them kiss and is surprised when his gut doesn’t churn with jealousy this time.

Each time he had imagined what they did behind closed doors, he was miserable. Yet, here he is, watching them kiss, feeling happy. The part of him that was jealous and hurt now knows that they both want him, too. He’s not on the outside looking in, anymore.

The little voice that sounds like Chuck gets a little louder. ‘What is this, a three-way roll in the hay like with the Doublemint twins back before Hell, or those triplets with Lee? Yeah, this isn’t how real life works, pal.’

Cas and Y/N finally pull away from each other but continue to stare into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Now, Dean knows how other people have felt while he’s stared at Cas in the past. Part of him wants to laugh at that, but that evil little voice has convinced him that this is temporary. They’re all holding hands, now, like some kind of hippie prayer circle or Zen meditation thing, grinning like idiots at each other, and it can’t last.

Dean’s smile falters, and he looks down at their hands, trying to memorize this moment before it all comes crashing down. Before he has to choose. Before they have to choose. Before he loses everything.

Cas lets go of his hand and uses it to lift Dean’s chin so he sees Cas’s face again. “You can have this, Dean. We can have this, exactly like this. We don’t have to choose. It won’t be easy, but nothing worthwhile ever is, right?” Cas’s hand drops down and grasps his hand, again. “Polyamory is not unheard of and is accepted in many cultures.”

Dean looks back and forth between Cas and Y/N, gauging their feelings about this from their expressions.

Y/N giggles and shrugs when Dean looks at her, questions in his eyes. “I’m game to try if you are. I’m guessing it’s going to involve a lot of honesty and talking, but I could never choose between you.”

Dean’s shoulders relax and he takes what feels like the first deep breath of his life. He’s fallen, hard and fast, expecting the pain of a crash landing, but found a safety net instead. It’s thrilling, it’s scary, and his heart wants to burst out of his chest, but it’s all good.

Squeezing both of their hands, he grins. “Let’s do this, then.”

Later, when he and Y/N are curled into Cas in bed, who’s reading a book because he doesn’t sleep, Dean squeezes her hand on the broad chest between them and smiles when she squeezes back. When he’s asleep and dreaming about hunts and fights and beating the Devil, for the first time, when he falls, he lands softly.

[theladyofdeath]

Scary Movies {Elorcan}

31 Days of Halloween: Day 11.

All installments co-written with @snelbz​

Based on a prompt sent in by anon: “ever since we were kids its been our tradition to binge watch horrible scary movies on halloween, go get the popcorn ready, wait this is much scarier than I remember, hold me”

Autumn/Halloween 2020 {Collection}

Elide looked at her coffee table and smiled. Pizza, popcorn, red vines, and beer. It was the same food, every year, except Coke had eventually turned into alcohol. 

A tradition.

Elide’s favorite of the entire year. 

It had started in middle school, when they decided that they were too old and cool for trick-or-treating. A scary movie, they took turns deciding. Between getting terrified and getting stomach aches from all they consumed, it created a magical evening.

Now, ten years after their first scary movie night on Halloween, Elide was hosting, and Lorcan was running late.

She looked at the clock on her apartment wall and sighed. If he didn’t show up soon, she’d call him, and yell at his ass.

Elide was on her way back from the back bedroom, having grabbed a couple of blankets from the spare room’s closet when a knock came on her door. She slowed and came to a stop.

Lorcan had a spare key, he could— and would— just let himself in. Not to mention, she’d left it unlocked for him. That realization left her all the more wary with what time of night it was.

Making her way over to her door, Elide reached up on her tiptoes to look out the peephole and she saw—

Nothing.

There was nothing and no one in the breezeway.

Cautiously, Elide opened the door and as she took a step out—

Heavy boots stomped on the concrete next to her as someone jumped out and yelled quietly.

The scream that left Elide was decidedly not quiet.

She threw the blankets up and when her heart rate had decelerated enough that she could breathe, she found Lorcan doubled over, hands on his knees, laughing his ass off.

“Not funny, asshole,” she muttered, not stopping to pick up the blankets.

“Very funny, actually,” he said, taking a deep breath as he righted himself and followed her into the apartment.

“I thought you were a…” Elide’s words trailed off as she shook her head.

She was flustered.

“A what?” Lorcan asked, still grinning as he snatched up the blankets and carried them inside. “A late trick or treater? A murderer? If I was a murderer, I wouldn’t come here on Halloween, El. Way too cliché.”

Her lips pursed together as she shut the door.

And locked it.

Lorcan kicked off his boots just inside of the door before passing into the living room and whistling at her set up.

“You’ve spoiled me,” he said, falling back into her couch. “Now I almost feel bad for scaring the shit out of you.”

“You should,” Elide pushed. “I’m almost thinking about tossing the red vines.”

Lorcan’s grin faded. “Don’t you dare.”

She couldn’t stay mad at him, not if she tried, so instead she flopped down next to him, tucking her Halloween-themed, Boo! fuzzy socks underneath her. “Alright, house rules apply. What movies did you bring?”

Once they got their own places, they added a few more nuanced rules to the list. The person who’s house the movie was at got to make the final decision, but the other got to pick the three choices.

Lorcan ticked them each off on a finger as he named them. “The new It, the original Halloween, or Teeth?”

“Not It,” Elide said, shaking her head vehemently. “And you’re an asshole for putting it in the lineup.”

An unfortunate incident at a county fair had scarred Elide for life and now she was terrified of not only clowns, but also the Tilt-A-Whirl and she couldn’t eat cotton Candy anymore. It was a long story and Lorcan knew every second of it, because he’d been there, laughing his ass off then, too.

Lorcan chuckled and said, “Fine, not It.”

“And we watched Teeth when we were like fifteen. I was convinced you weren’t ever going to look at a vagina the same.”

“My fifteen-year-old boy hormones overrode the horror very quickly,” he chuckled. “So Halloween?”

“Halloween,” she agreed. “Put it in.”

“So demanding,” he mumbled, but did as she asked, nonetheless.

He was sitting back beside her as the menu played in no time. After selecting play, he had a beer and his red vines open. 

“Don’t get too scared,” Lorcan muttered, mouth full of candy. “I want you to be able to sleep tonight. Remember, it’s just a movie.”

Elide nudged him with her foot, fluffy sock and all. “Shut up.”

He grinned, unable to control himself. “Don’t you remember our first scary movie night?”

Elide groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

“You nearly pissed yourself,” he said, reminding her, anyway.

Elide scoffed. “I screamed once.”

“And cried twice and begged me to turn it off,” he said, chuckling.

“Why am I friends with you?” She muttered, snuggling back into the blankets and pillows, propping her feet up on the couch. The bottoms of her feet pressed up against his sweatpants-covered thigh.

Lorcan didn’t say anything else, just quietly laughed to himself as he leaned over and turned the lamp off, plunging the room into near darkness.

The beginning of the movies were never scary to Elide, even if the killing started out right away. At the beginning, she could still tell herself it was just a movie. It was as the movie went on, when she found herself immersed in it, that she began to get nervous.

That nervousness continued as she laid awake in the middle of the night, alone. 

Every few minutes, she glanced over at Lorcan. At one point, his eyelids were drooping, and she had no idea how he could be relaxed during such a suspenseful film.

Elide had just cracked open her third beer when Lorcan mumbled, “Crying yet?”

“No, jackass,” she muttered, sipping from the can and clinging to her blanket. She couldn’t help but glance at her living room windows to make sure no one was standing just outside.

Elide didn’t realize just how buzzed she was until she stood to use the restroom. She took one unsteady step before Lorcan paused the movie. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve just got to run to the bathroom, you can let it play,” she replied.

“No, I can’t,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You’ll miss something.”

“I’ve seen it,” she replied, chuckling.

“Yeah, but we haven’t seen it together. That’s a crucial point.”

She rolled her eyes and said, “Fine, I’ll be right back.”

She heard him get up and rifle through her kitchen cabinets, probably looking for something else sweet. As if the entire pack of red vines he’d already consumed wasn’t enough.

When she came back though, she paused. He was in her spot, with his feet propped up, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world as he drank a beer.

Elide cleared her throat.

“Hmm?”

“You’re in my spot,” she said, hands on her hips.

Lorcan looked over at her, one brow raised. “We have spots, now?”

“I’ve always sat in that spot literally every time you have ever come over here. Which is a lot.”

Lorcan shrugged. “I figured we could change it up a bit. I have longer legs. I should be able to stretch my legs out.”

“Your legs are practically hanging off,” Elide protested.

Lorcan blinked. “Not the point.”

With a loud, dramatic sigh, Elide was stumbling back over to the couch.

Lorcan snorted. “You’re drunk.”

“I'm not drunk.”

“How many beers have you had?”

She paused. “A few.”

Lorcan’s grin widened. “You’re drunk.” 

“Am not.”

“Had to get drunk to make it through the scary movie, huh?” he teased. 

Elide was caught between saying am not and fuck you, and her statement ended up coming out as, “Fuck not.” 

Lorcan tossed his head back against the cushions as he laughed. “Drunk Elide has arrived.” 

She sat down in his spot and kicked her feet up on his lap. She was expecting him to shove them off or make a joke about them stinking or something else classically Lorcan. So when he gently took one in his hand and began massaging it, she stopped paying attention to a single thing happening in the movie.

His hands on her were enough to cause that, and if she could just—

A scream rang out from the tv and Elide gasped, turning her attention back to the movie, as Jamie Lee Curtis tried to out run Michael Meyers.

When Elide looked back over at Lorcan, he was looking decidedly smirky.

“Fuck off,” she muttered.

“Don’t you mean fuck not?” he asked, those hands still massaging her sore ankle. 

Elide hated herself for smiling at him. Hated that she loved the way he was smiling at her. She hated his little jokes and snide remarks. Hated that his massages felt so damn good.

The movie on the screen continued, and Elide had found Lorcan’s hands on her ankle incredibly interesting as the tense music played loudly from the surround sound speakers.

Soon enough, the movie was over and Elide was wondering how an hour and a half slipped by so quickly.

“Do you want to watch another?” She asked, as he stood and stretched. “Since it’s a Saturday and everything.”

That smirk was still in place, but she could see a softness in his eyes. “Can you handle another two hours of sheer terror?”

“I wasn’t that scared,” she mumbled, crossing her arms.

Lorcan only grinned and flopped back on the couch, laying out and cracking open another beer.

She rolled her eyes before turning on Cabin In the Woods, and making her way back over to to the couch. “Where exactly am I supposed to sit now?” She asked, pointing to where his feet were in her vacated seat. His entire frame barely fit on her couch.

He wiggled his sock covered toes. “My turn for a foot massage.” He winked at her.

She scrunched her nose. “I don’t wanna touch your feet.”

He pretended to be offended. “And why is that?”

“Your feet are gross.” She chuckled as she sat on top of his shins. “They stink.”

“They do not. They’re cute as fuck and smell like roses.”

Elide giggled. “You keep thinking that. They stink, and they’re massive.”

“What does their size have to do with them?” he laughed. “Isn’t size a good thing? You know what they say about big feet.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, amused as she shook her head.

Lorcan didn’t say anything else, just wiggled his feet free from under her and drank his beer. When he finished, he stood and started collecting the cans.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

He shrugged. “We killed a twelve pack. I’m going to get the rest of the beer out of the fridge.”

Elide rolled her eyes, but she resituated and got comfortable on the couch. When Lorcan returned, he handed her a fresh drink and sat down in the middle of the couch. His arm was draped over the back of the couch, his hand right behind Elide’s head. He began to play with strands of hair coming out of the back of her ponytail.

Elide had to resist the urge to purr.

He handed her another full can.

She didn’t hesitate as she took it, popped it open, and downed it. She hated the taste of beer, but as the night went on, she tasted it less and less. 

Lorcan continued to play with her hair.

Elide had no idea what was going on in the movie, but she didn’t care, and wasn't scared at all as Lorcan continued to play with her hair. 

To her surprise, he let her relax, didn’t try to scare her, didn’t try to tease her, not anymore. The movie was about half way done when Elide looked over at him to find him already watching her. 

“What?” she laughed, quietly. 

“You like me playing with your hair,” he whispered, and he wore no smile. 

“Maybe,” she admitted.

“I’ve been playing with your hair for thirty minutes,” he continued. 

“I noticed,” she said, her voice small as she tried to concentrate, tried to notice if she was slurring her words or not. 

She sure as hell couldn’t tell if he was.

They’d danced around this for years, the feelings they had for each other, the other never seeming to return the feelings that they had. Everyone else constantly gave them shit for not just being together.

Elide always touted off the same response about Lorcan not looking at her that way. What she didn’t know is that he always said she deserved better than a bastard.

She tried to look back at the movie to concentrate on who was on screen, what was happening, but those lithe fingers just kept slipping through the strands.

And then her hair came loose, as he pulled the ponytail out of it and flicked it at her.

“Hey!” She cried, looking for it in the piles and piles of blankets.

Lorcan only looked at her, a self-satisfied look on his face. “What are you thinking?” 

Elide stilled. “What do you mean?”

“You were thinking something, I could see it,” he followed. “What was it?”

“Nothing,” she replied, a little too quickly. 

“Nothing?” he asked, one brow raised. “Liar.”

“Am not.”

“You just don’t want to tell me.”

“And if I don’t?” Elide asked.

He was grinning. “You’re drunk.”

“So?” she asked.

His grin faded. “What were you thinking, El?”

That we should get over ourselves and see what we could be. “That I have no idea what’s going on in this movie.” 

“Neither do I,” he admitted, his voice quiet.

His eyes were on her mouth. When she bit down on her bottom lip, his nostrils flared slightly and he wet his own lips. She breathed, “Are you staring at my lips?”

If it weren’t for the alcohol in her veins, she never would have had the nerve to ask. He nodded once.

“And what are you thinking?” She asked, quietly.

“You have nice lips,” he confessed.

Elide hesitated. “I have nice lips?”

He nodded, once, yet again. 

“Interesting,” she said, when he said no more, her voice remaining small. 

“Interesting?” he repeated.

“Interesting,” she agreed. 

They both stared at one another, the movie playing quietly in the background. It was strange, how Elide’s heart was beating uncontrollably throughout the screams and shrieks from the t.v. screen, but not from fear.

Not at all from fear. 

From exhilaration, from disbelief, from wondering if she was picking up the wrong ques. 

“You’re still looking at my lips,” she said. 

“You’re looking at mine now,” was his response.

He was right, of course. She was.

After a second, she cleared her throat and looked back to the television, but she could still feel his gaze on her from time to time.

During one of the bloodiest scenes she’d ever seen, Lorcan suddenly paused the movie. “Do you hear that?”

Elide snorted. “I’m not falling for that.”

“I’m serious,” he said, looking behind them, towards the window. “You don’t hear that?”

The tone of his voice was unsettling. She pulled her feet up onto the couch, even though she had no idea what he was hearing. She couldn’t hear anything. “This isn’t funny, Lor. Stop it.”

He quickly got up and went to the front door, making sure it was locked, before looking out the window. Elide’s heart was racing. She still hadn’t heard anything, he hadn’t-.

“Oh gods, I was right,” he said, hurrying back to the couch.

She was pretty sure she was going to have a panic attack. “What is it?”

“It’s the… the…” He swallowed harshly and looked at her. “The tickle monster.”

“Damn it Lor-.”

He was flying to her side of the couch and tickling her sides, making her squirm, making her laugh, making her scream before she could even finish her sentence. 

“Lorcan!” She cried, trying to push him away, but he was massive and when he was on a tickle mission, he was going to see it through.

“Lorcan!” She said, again, getting a good hit on his chest this time.

Lorcan’s laugh was contagious, his smile bright, and it wasn’t until Lorcan’s fingers stopped dancing along her sides that Elide realized how they were laying.

He was on top of her, his chest across her legs, his head just above her waist. His body wasn’t completely pressed up against her, but it was pressed up enough.

His fingers sat on her bare skin, her shirt having just barely ridden up during his onslaught of tickles, and her skin felt like it was on fire where he touched her. Sitting that close, she swore she could see bits of blue in the depth of his black eyes. His thumb began to rub a slow circle over her hip.

She sat up, at the same time and when he pulled her closer, she breathed his name.

They were close.

It wasn’t that she had never been close to him, but this was a different kind of close. She could feel his warm, alcohol-scented breath on her lips.

Lorcan.

Her Lorcan.

Her best friend.

The movie was still playing, Elide was certain, but she couldn’t see it, couldn’t hear it.

There was nothing in the world except for him.

“You’re drunk,” Lorcan whispered.

“So are you,” Elide agreed.

Lorcan nodded, slowly, his nose nearly brushing along hers. “Yeah.”

And then he was kissing her, slowly, gently.

She didn’t hesitate, her lips moving against his as if they were made for each other. One of her hands gripped his arm, they other still pressed against his chest and she bunched the fabric up in her hands.

A scream from the tv had them pulling apart and both breathing heavily as they looked at each other.

Elide breathed, “You know, if you were scared, all you had to do was say so.”

Lorcan looked at her for a moment before tipping his head back and laughing. 

[etoileholland]

My devilish darling boy

Anonymous asked: Dad!tom’s kid accidentally ruins the new script for his movie after finishing it and is reluctant to tell the truth when they see how mad he gets at the boys thinking one of them did it. Also I love you😘❤️

Pairing: Dad!Tom x female reader

Warnings: an argument & some bad words throughout

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: I love you too and I really hope you enjoy! Requests/prompts are always open so don’t hesitate to send some in 💛

(photo not mine, all credit goes to its respective owner)

“You can watch over Luca, right?” You asked as you grabbed your purse from the table by the door. You were going off to a business luncheon and you couldn’t bring yours and Tom’s two year old son Luca with you.

“Yes darling, I’m plenty capable of watching over our son. Actually, I’m planning on visiting my parents so they can watch over Luca while my brothers read the script.” He replied as he helped you put on your jacket.

“That’ll be nice, he loves to go visit grandma and play with Tessa.”

“He sure does.” He grabbed onto your waist and pulled you into a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too, but I gotta go.” You looked down at your watch, letting out a sigh. “Shit, I’m gonna be late. Just make sure you watch over Luca, I mean it.” You pointed your finger at him and closed the door behind you.

I can do this, he thought. He looked over to see Luca sitting on the floor with his pacifier in his mouth. He smiled at his son, walking over to scoop him up onto his arms, before kissing him on the cheek. Luca had inherited Tom’s curly brown hair but inherited your eyes, and Tom loved that.

“C’mon baby boy, let’s go see grandma.” He stated and his son buried his head into his chest.

—

A twenty minute drive later, Tom and Luca were parked outside of the Holland residence. He got Luca out of his car seat and proceeded to knock on the door. After a second, the door swung open to see his mum beaming at him.

“Honey, it’s so good to see you. And how’s my darling little angel doing?” Nikki cooed as Tom passed off Luca to her so she could hold him. He put his arms around her neck and giggled lightly.

“The boys are sitting in the office waiting to read your script, so I’ll watch over my precious grandson.” She tickled him lightly which caused him to giggle some more.

“Thank you mum, trust me I appreciate it.” He kissed her on the cheek and entered the house, immediately being tackled by Tessa.

“Tessa darling I’ve missed you!” He petted her behind the ears and rubbed her belly; her tail wagged happily as he gave her some love. After a minute he got back up and walked into the office, where Sam and Harry were awaiting his arrival.

“Hey guys.” He said as his brothers stood up to give him a hug.

“Where’s the little one?” Sam inquired.

“With mum, she’ll watch over him while we’re working.” Tom said as he pulled up a chair and sat down.

“Good, we don’t need any distractions. Now gimme that script, I’m dying to read it.” Harry snatched it from Tom’s hand and plopped back down into his chair.

Two long hours later, the boys were done reading it.

“Wow Tom, I never thought I would say this but you’re actually talented.” Harry spoke up and leaned back in his chair.

“He’s right, that was actually super good. That twist at the ending was pure genius.” Sam added with a chef’s kiss, and Tom laughed

“Although the spelling errors in this are astronomical. How the hell did you even make it through sixth form?” Harry remarked and was met with a swift punch to the arm.

“Ouch.” He rubbed his bicep and Tom held his finger up to his mouth to shush him. “Did you hear that?” He stated in a hushed tone. The boys looked at each other, their ears perking up as they heard a crying in the distance. The crying grew louder, and they looked up to see Nikki standing in the doorway with Luca in her arms.

“Darling, I think Luca misses you. He won’t stop crying so do you mind taking a break and tending to that right now?” Nikki asked as Tom walked closer to her before grabbing his son from her arms.

“Angel, what’s the matter? Why is my baby boy upset?” He cooed, gently bouncing him and holding his son tight.

“I’m sad.”

“Why are you sad, hm?” He asked lovingly.

“Cuddles.” He whispered and Tom knew exactly what he was referring to. Tom always devotes at least thirty minutes out of his day to cuddle with him, but he must’ve forgotten due to being tied up with the script.

“Let do that right now, alright?” He kissed the top of his head and Luca’s crying began to cease.

“You guys can make critiques on it, yeah? And please keep that safe, because I didn’t work that hard on it for it to be ruined.” He said while the boys nodded their heads.

“We’ll watch over it, don’t worry.” Sam said, and Harry added, “Now go spend some time with your son.”

“Thank you.” His son rubbed his eyes and Tom wiped the tears away, and walked into the living room so that he could cuddle with him.

Tom lie down on the couch and set Luca on his chest, rubbing light circles on his back to get him to fall asleep. He could hear his breathing become more relaxed, and after a few minutes Luca was sound asleep. Tom dozed off as well, and was woken by forty minutes later.

“Done!” Luca exclaimed energetically, wriggling himself out of his father’s arms. He climbed off the couch and toddled over to Tessa to pet her.

Tom crouched down, kissed Luca on the top of his head, and decided to take this opportunity to go back to his brothers to get some critiques for the script.

—

“Tom, I was going to go for a walk to get the post, would you want to come with?” Dom asked, jacket and keys in hand. The boys had spent about two hours marking up Tom’s script, and took to drinking tea to keep themselves awake.

“Um sure, let me go grab my jacket and make sure someone capable watches over Luca.” He got up, sauntering into the kitchen, where he saw Luca and Paddy both sharing a bowl of Cheerios.

“Can you watch over him? After mum, I trust you the most and I’m gonna go take a walk with dad.”

“Yeah sure.” Paddy replied flatly as he intently watched Luca slowly put Cheerios into his mouth.

Tom then poked his head into the office, and stated, “When you’re done, put the script back in my bag and lock the door so that nothing bad will happen to it, you got it?”

“Have some faith in us, big brother. It’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Sam waved, but Tom hesitantly smiled. “Okay, I’m trusting you both. Don’t make me regret that decision.”

“You won’t!” Harry hollered back. They waited until they heard the front door lock, and shared a glance.

“Fifa?” Harry asked and Sam nodded. “Hell yeah. I think the script will be fine here on the table, right?” Sam inquired. “Yeah, Tom worries too much. No wonder he has a few grey hairs.” He remarked as they closed the door to the office, leaving the script on the table with a cup of tea right next to it. They waltzed out of the office and waved at Paddy, who was in the kitchen.

“Hey would you want to play fifa with us? We cannot stand to read that thing anymore.”

“I would, but I have to watch over Luca.” He looked over at his nephew who looked curiously back at him.

“Just leave him with his Cheerios. Honestly Tom worries too much about his kid, he’ll be fine.” Harry remarked and Paddy agreed. “You’re right.”

Paddy stood up and pushed his chair in. He looked over and pointed at his nephew before saying, “Now you stay here, and don’t leave this chair.” He glanced while Luca stared at him curiously.

“Good boy.” The boys walked off and Luca was left by himself and his cereal. After a few minutes he finished, looking around to see that he was alone.

“Done.” He said as he began to crawl off the chair. He toddled over into the office where Tom’s backpack was, which was also where Tom had placed Luca’s snacks and toys. While looking for his stuffed monkey Mr. Bananas, he bumped into the table and the tea conveniently spilled all over the script.

“Uh oh.” He whispered as the tea dripped off the table and onto the wood floor. Fleeing the crime scene, Luca swiftly waddled away from the room, Mr. Bananas in hand, and went into the living room like nothing had ever happened.

—

Thirty minutes later, Tom skipped into the office and was surprised to see the room vacant. He was also surprised to see his script soaking wet, tea cup on its side as the tea dripped onto the hardwood floor.

“Those bastards.” He stormed out of the room, drenched script in hand while frantically searching the house for his little brothers. He stopped when he saw Sam and Harry sitting in the living room in front of the telly, headsets on with no cares in the world. He stood in front of the TV and unplugged the Xbox from the wall, while ignoring his brothers groans and remarks.

“Why the fuck would you leave a teacup right next to the script? And why didn’t you put the script somewhere safe like I told you to? It was supposed to be locked away in the office for a reason, and I know one of you fuckers must have done something.” He spat, holding the sopping wet script in his hands, before slamming it down on the table. “Do you know how hard I worked on that thing? Just for you to spill tea all over it like the twats you are, and not even own up to the fact that you did it?”

“What are you on about? We didn’t spill tea on your script.” Harry stated as he reached for a crisp from the bowl next to him.

“Alright, you’re playing dumb. Then can you tell me why there is earl grey tea all over the script?” Tom spat but the boys were speechless.

“Well, say something. Don’t make me look like an idiot standing here with a sopping wet script.”

“That’s never stopped you from looking like an idiot before.” Harry smirked, and Tom clenched his fist. His jaw was clenched, and his face was burning red.

“I swear, if you don’t own up to this I will literally murder you.” Tom said angrily which only caused his brothers to stifle a laugh.

“Fucking own up to it!” He yelled and his brothers sat quiet.

Luca was sitting on the hallway floor, around the corner of the living room. His lip quivered as his father raised his voice, feeling bad that his father was blaming his brothers for something they didn’t do.

“We definitely didn’t do that.” Harry munched on a crisp, passing the bowl to Sam so he could grab some as well. Just then Tom snatched the bowl from Sam’s hands and slammed it down on the coffee table.

“Fucking hell Tom, we didn’t do it. Why don’t you believe when we said it wasn’t us?” Sam retorted.

“Who else could it have been, hm? You were the last ones in there and you were supposed to lock the door after you left. Might I add you were also supposed to put the script in my bag like I explicitly asked.” He paced the room, covering his face with his hands. “And besides, why did you go off and play fifa when I specifically asked you to critique the damn script.”

“I don’t know, we got bored of reading it and we wanted to take a break. But why the hell would we ruin it?” Harry let out a huff, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I don’t know, maybe you have a personal vendetta against me or something. Or, maybe because you’re jealous of my success, and you can’t stand to see me accomplish something that you could only dream of.”

The room instantly became eerily silent as the boys shared a glance. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut through it, and the hostility loomed over everyone. The boys snarled at the same time, and Sam flipped off Tom.

“Fuck you.” Harry spat at him, and Tom’s face became redder.

“No, fuck you.” He pointed at them, and stormed out of the room. He rounded the corner too quickly and nearly tripped over his son who was beginning to cry.

“Shit.” He whispered and paused for a second at his choice of word. “I’m sorry angel, I didn’t see you sitting there. Don’t worry about what daddy said, I’m not mad at you at all.” He said in a soft tone, but Luca began to cry.

“Daddy, I-” he sobbed. Tom instantly crouched down right next to his son and scooped him into a big hug.

“What’s wrong now?” He asked, his tone sounding more harsh than intended.

“I d-did it daddy, I-I’m sorry. P-please don’t get a-angey.” He blubbered and Tom’s heart sank.

“You did it?” He asked, and Luca nodded. “D-didn’t mean t-to.” He sobbed, which made Tom instantly feel guilty for blaming his brothers.

“Why did you do it?” He tilted his head to the side, scanning his son’s face as he waited for the answer.

“B-bananas.”

“Oh.” The pieces clicked in his mind as he realised that Luca would go into his bag to look for Mr. Bananas, since he loved to play with him after their cuddle sessions. “I b-bumped into the table and it s-spilled.”

Tom let out a long sigh, tilting his head backwards as he let out a small groan. He looked over at his son who was rubbing his eyes, letting out small cries as the tears streamed down his face. He picked Luca up, and he instantly buried his head into the crook of Tom’s neck. “Daddy’s not mad darling, I’m sorry. It can be fixed for sure, I promise.” He continued to hold his sobbing son as a tear fell down his own cheek. “Please don’t cry anymore bub, it’s okay.” He felt his son’s breathing calm down, his little sobs turning into hiccups.

“Do you have the clicks now?” He asked, while his son buried his face into his chest.

He picked Luca up and made his way back into the living room, pausing before beginning to apologise profusely.

“Guys I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have blamed you. I know you said you didn’t do it and I should have trusted you. I didn’t realise Luca went in there to get his toy, and he must’ve knocked into the table, and that was how the tea got all over it.”

“No, it’s our fault, we should’ve locked the door like you said to. We just thought you were being overprotective.” Sam stated and Harry added, “We didn’t anticipate anything bad happening to it, but we should’ve been more careful, especially with a toddler running around.”

“It could’ve been worse I guess, at least no one was harmed, right darling?” He looked down at his son, who clutched his shirt with his tiny hands.

“But you’re right, I was being far too overprotective with it. Luckily I had an extra copy of it that I sent over to Robert to read, so I can ask him to just send it back when he’s finished.” He lightly adjusted his son to rest on his hip, and looked apologetically at his brothers. “I didn’t mean what I said just now, I was just furious at how much work went into it.”

He looked down at the floor, and whispered, “Do you forgive me?”

“It’s understandable why you would be upset, I swear it won’t happen again. But of course, apology accepted.” They ran over and everyone put their arms around him in a large embrace. Tom felt his son squirming so he backed away from the hug.

“I love you all so much, you know that, right?” He asked while his brothers all nodded.

“We love you too, you twat.”

——

Mes anges (taglist): @starkissedholland​ @scarletxwidow​ @fangirlwithasweettooth​ @lmaotshollandd​ @musicalkeys​ @taciturnspidey​

[jjsjuiceboxx]

LOVE THAT KEEPS ON GIVING

SUMMARY- You and JJ hang out for the day but he goes home grab his back pack and had a run in with his dad.

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️: mentions of abuse, blood, cussing, slight angst.

A/N: I love writing for JJ but I HATE writing him being hurt in anyway it makes me so sad #protectjjseason2. I got carried away this is SO Long also I can’t find where the person asked for these from my prompt list but I remember who it was for so @hemogoblin-s this is for you, happy reading :).

☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎

Currently you and JJ were hanging out feet in your pool, your parents had good money but not enough to qualify you as a kook. You were listening to JJ tell you stories about him and the pogues adventures, you and JJ’s relationship was a secret not because either of you were embarrassed or ashamed but Just because it was new and you and JJ wanted some time to just be together before the whole island found out.

“Ok so this one time John b and I were surfing and we were waiting for another wave and something got my attention and I looked over and saw this triangle swimming close to us, and that can only mean one thing....a shark” JJ said dramatically you started to laugh “baby, why are you laughing that isn’t funny” JJ pouted at you.

“No no not laughing at the story I’m laughing how you described the shark fin as a triangle coming to you” you said laughing some more JJ started laughing too “well it is a triangle isn’t it?” JJ asked still laughing. Once you to calmed down you looked at JJ and how the water reflected off his face he looked so angelic.

“Do you want to sleep over?” You asked JJ looking at him with so much love he looked back at you and blushed slightly but smiled and nodded his head “oh shit I have to go get my back pack I left at my house with all my shit” he said putting his head in his hands and sighing, you knew about JJ’s home life and why he always slept at John b’s once he told you that story you told him he is always allowed to come to your house and stay you even had a key made for him and then painted it for JJ so he knew it was to your house.

You wrapped your arms around JJ and kissed his head “do you want me to drive you over there?” You asked softly you felt JJ shake his head no. “I don’t want you to go to my house I don’t want anything to happen to you” he said looking at you you nodded your head “ok then I won’t, but I will always be here for you” you reminded him he stood up and put his hand out you took it and he helped you up “I know and I’m so grateful, I’m here too you know” JJ said you hugged him.

“Ok I’m going to head to my house hopefully my dad is at the bar considering it’s not even 5 pm” JJ said pulling out of the hug and kissed you “ok, be safe hurry back” you said kissing him once again he smiled “I’ll try, but I’ll literally run back here soo fast, you know you’re my favorite hello and hardest good bye” JJ said blushing you giggled “then how about a see you later?” You asked “yeah I like that better I never wanna say goodbye”

The sun had went down and you were cooking dinner for you and JJ you knew he would be back soon, you lived in the cut just before you got to figure 8 but JJ’s house was a long walk so you weren’t worried. JJ’s dad was probably at the bar so you were sure JJ got his stuff and was on his way back.

You had hoped JJ would get back just as dinner finished so it was stuff warm and fresh for him, you always wanted the best for JJ and any chance you got you made sure of just that, you heard the door open you knew it was JJ as your parents were out of town they love JJ and actually prefer he stay with you while they were gone they trusted JJ and JJ knew this and had never felt so loved in his life.

You continued to cook dinner waiting for JJ to walk in but instead you heard a loud thud and then a painful groan, you immediately stopped what you were doing and ran to your front door to see JJ on the floor in a fetal position, “babe, oh my god what happened?” You questioned extremely worried JJ slowly rolled on to his back and you could see his lip and nose bleeding something awful he weakly smiled at you and responded “my dad, he was home” was all he had to say you knew the rest hell you could see the rest.

“Sorry for getting blood on your floor” JJ said meekly as he looked to see he had bled on your white tiled floor, “JJ I don’t care about the damn floor I care about you, can you stand up?” You asked brushing hair off of his forehead, JJ nodded and started to sit up you helped him and brought him to your downstairs bathroom where you kept your first aid kit, you had bought a big one online for serious injuries it broke you heart doing so because you had only bought it to help aid JJ’s wounds.

JJ say on the toilet seat already knowing the drill you had don’t this enough times that he knew where to sit and what you needed him to do to fix his injuries, as you got out what you needed; hydrogen peroxide, bandaids, gauze, cream ( to help his swollen face and bruising you knew he had under his shirt ) and some aspirin. You gave JJ a towel to apply pressure to his still bleeding nose. After you got all the things you needed out you came over to JJ and he removed the towel he had to his nose, he was staring blankly at the plain wall in front of him.

You knew after times like this that he was still processing what had happened, he would tell you why it happened this time after you were done patching him up he would always end up crying later holding you so tight while he cried his eyes out you always held him back even tighter if it was possible while you had silent tears streaming down your face, you had to be strong for him while he was breaking so you did just that you did what he needed you to In that situation, you opened the hydrogen peroxide and a q-tip dunking the q-tip into the liquid you came over to JJ and tilted his head up slightly to have better access to the cut on his lip.

You bent down and gave a soft peck on his nose to help comfort him, “I’m Gunna clean your split lip now” you stated moving closer to his lip he nodded. You always told him what you were doing before you did it after something as traumatic as this, you didn’t want to scare him as you applied the liquid to his split lip he watched you as your brows furrowed in concentration. You threw the q-tip that was coated in blood in the trash next to the toilet.

You then started to examine his nose that had stopped bleeding to make sure it wasn’t broken; it wasn’t. “good news it’s not broken but it’ll bruise” you told him he nodded again and you grabbed the anti swelling cream it was one of those creams that eases pain by leaving it feeling a cool and tingly feeling, you popped open the tube and put some on your finger a dime size amount, “I’m gunna put this on your nose now ok?” You asked JJ he smiled slightly and nodded he always liked how soothing you sounded and how you always made sure he was aware and ok with what you were doing.

You put light pressure not wanting to hurt his nose and rubbed in the cream once you did that you washed your hands and went to the bandaids you opened them up they were butterfly bandaids for his lip, “I’m going to put the band aids on and then your face will be done” you told him you squatted in front of JJ and places the two butterfly bandaids to his lip, the whole time he was staring into your eyes he saw how concerned and soft your eyes were as you focused.

You put you hands on his knees and used it as leverage to stand back up, “anywhere else?” You asked quietly you didn’t want to talk too loud and scare him either he shook his head no you nodded and turned back to the first aid kit and put all the supplies back into the bag and stuck it back under the sink.

“I’m going to clean the mess up In the foyer and I’ll be right back” you said turning around to walk away but JJ Had grabbed your hand and spun you back to him “I should clean that up I’m the one who caused the mess” JJ told you you shook your head no “no you go and sit down I’m going to clean it up, I’m taking care of you” you told JJ he could tell not to argue so he just looked down and nodded his head.

After you mopped up the blood you went to find JJ you handed him his bag “he was mad that I wasn’t at home often and told me to stay and not go out, but I didn’t listen I can’t be in that house anymore even when he is gone and when I went to leave he...he hit me” JJ said looking down at the floor you came and sat next to him “you don’t have to ever go back there babe you can stay here with me you know my parents adore you, and I know John b will let you stay there you can go back and forth, but you don’t ever have to go back to that place” you said hugging him from behind JJ nodded you held him for a bit and stood up holding your hand out to him “go get in the shower I’ll throw your clothes into the laundry and try to get the blood out” JJ took your hand and stood up allowing you to walk him to the bathroom upstairs.

Once you both got in you shut the door behind you, JJ raised his hands in the air to let you take his clothes off for him you always did this because you knew he was probably so exhausted and JJ always let you do it. Once his clothes were off and he was butt naked in front of you usually you would make a joke about shower sex or something like that or he would but now was not the time, you started to move JJ’s body around just to make sure he didn’t have any injuries he was unaware of, it’s happened before.

When you were sure it was just his face you turned to the shower turning it on for him and making sure it wasn’t to hot or to cold, once you got it at a good temperature you turned to JJ “ok I’ll be downstairs putting your clothes in the wash and then I’ll be finishing up dinner if you’re up for it?” You asked picking up JJ’s clothes that was covered in dirt and blood and you noticed some new holes in his shirt making a mental note to see them shut, JJ nodded and pulled you into his arms and hugged you, he sighed into your hair “you smell nice” he said you giggled and thanked him “I’d say you smell good to but I don’t want to lie to you, after your shower though you’ll smell very very good” you told JJ he laughed at that which made you smile knowing you took his pain away from a slight second.

“Thank you for always being here no matter what and for loving me and for helping me put my broken pieces back together” JJ breathed out, you pulled away from the hug “of course babe I take care of my people you’re my people I will always make sure you’re ok” you told him rubbing his arm “I love you” he said “I love you too bubby, now get your hot ass in the shower” you said slapping his ass gently of course you heard him laugh before you shut the door behind you.

Once you put JJ’s clothes in the wash you went back to making dinner after you did that and put it into a bowl then set it on the kitchen table, you went to JJ’s bag on the couch and pulled out all the stuff he would need for the night; sweat pants, phone, phone charger. He didn’t have a tooth brush in the bag because he has one at your house for when he stays over, you went to your room and plugged his phone into the charger it was dead. Then you took his sweat pants and sprayed your perfume on it JJ says he likes the way you smell and that it comforts him you then folded his sweatpants up and opened the bathroom door and set them on the counter so JJ saw them when he finished his shower.

You went back down stairs and watched some tv while you waited for JJ, soon after he came down the stairs in the sweat pants you laid out for him “did you spray perfume on my sweat pants?” JJ asked you while smirking you nodded “yeah i remember you told me it comforts you because it remind you of me” you said after you said that you heard JJ sniffle and immediately ran to him “what’s wrong are you ok?” You rushed out holding JJ into your arms he held you back “yeah I’m ok these are happy tears, I’m happy you make me happy, you remember small things I tell you like your perfume it’s just nice to know that someone cares enough about me to remember those things and then to do them without me saying it, it just feels good. I love you and I’m so grateful to have you in my life” JJ said still crying you were crying now too.

“J of course I remember it’s important even if it’s something so small like how you love Mac and cheese by the way I made it for dinner, or how you hate mustard. I remember all of that because it’s what makes you you and I love you so fucking much JJ” you said holding his face in your hands gently using you thumb to wipe the tears off his face, “you make me forget my life is fucked up, when I’m with you I’m my best self I love you more and I always will everyday I love you more and more” JJ said before he kissed you he pulled you closer you ran your hands through his hair kissing back.

“I want my friends to meet you, I know we were waiting but I want them to meet you because I know they will love you but I obviously love you more, it doesn’t have to be tomorrow but think about it?” JJ asked still holding you you smiled “I’d love to meet them next time you go out on the hms pogue count me in” you told JJ he smiled so wide and kissed your head “now let’s eat some Mac and cheese” JJ said dragging you to your kitchen table.

[singeramg]

Congratulations on your 500 followers! I would like to make a request for 9 .“Just don’t break anything…again!” with Henry. Thank you!

Hey world! Sorry I’ve been a bit MIA when it comes to writing, or at least posting! Don’t worry continuations of my WIP’s are coming but I also wanted to challenge myself to break my mold of writing and try to have a little fun. Also I wanted to show my appreciation of all of you and your support of what I do!

So to anon this is something from my Fluff! Henry collection! I hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun with it!

Title: Lava and Kids Don’t Mix

Characters: Dad!Henry Cavill x Female Reader

Prompt: “Just Don’t Break Anything...Again!”

Rating: G!

Warning: None, just fluff, mention of injury, and a slightly broody Cavill man.

MasterList for more fun!

Henry Cavill was in a panic. 

You only had one rule before you left to spend the day with his mother. Leaving him in charge of your two 5 year old  twin boys Mitchell and Michael for the day. He was supposed to keep it simple, take the boys to the park with Kal and your 2 year old Jack Terrier Russell Sandy. You knew the boys would run off all access energy at the park and after they ate the soup and sandwiches you made for all of them before you left, they would down for their nap, and you would be home and starting dinner just after they woke up.

Simple plan right?

Right?

Wrong.

Needless to say things didn’t anyways go to plan in the Cavill household when dealing with two rambunctious twins that looked and acted like their father and two dogs, and also an unexpected rainstorm that shortened the park trip that saw the Cavill men playing the floor is lava, while Henry warmed up the soup in the kitchen. Ignoring the roughhousing like he tended to do when you weren’t around because he grew up with four brothers and “boys will be boys.” Of course Mitchell managed to miss the couch cushions he was supposed to land on, and landed on his left arm and on top of his brother. The subsequent scream of pain sent Henry flying from the kitchen, and to his horror found two crying kids on the floor. One holding his arm hollering and the other reeling from his brother landing halfway on him, therefore he was crying too. Henry runs back to the stove switching it off and then running back over to his children which now had a dog sniffing at their faces. Henry picks up Michael first sitting him on the couch and his whimpers are already settling down but Mitchell was still hollering and holding his arm.

“Oh no.”

Henry picks up Michell off the floor who curls into his father's side.

“Mitchell can I see your arm?”

Slowly; the still whimpering child lifts his arm, and the second Henry delicately touches the arm, it sends Mitchell into a scream of pain and fresh tears.

Oh dear.

He notes the boy’s arm has begun to swell and is awfully red. He carries him into the kitchen and puts a ice pack on it and knows he is going to have to take him to the hospital.

In the biggest rush known to man he gathers the twins and puts an SOS to you. Tossing things around the house until he located his wallet, and keys, just avoiding a vase on the table, that you loved. His son hollers louder held in his arms.

You were going to kill him.

You literally left the house with a  “ Just don’t break anything again” as a joke but now it looked like it was coming true...

*Hospital*

The small group was ushered back fairly quickly into a room and for once Henry was slightly glad of his celebrity when it came to his family. He often was irritated when he found intrusive photographs of his family plastered all over the web but this time one look at his license had gotten them into a private room and waiting for Mitch to come back from X-rays. He had called you on the way to the hospital, but you didn’t answer so he left a message and tried his mother with the same result. He had tried a few times but he knew coverage could be spotty and he wasn’t exactly sure of what his mother planned for you. He knew you would feel terrible about not answering not to mention he hated putting you through undo stress because you were carrying the third child of the Cavill brood. That had been the only reason you even went today was to get a breather without a five year old pulling at your skirts, especially since he had just gotten back from filming just over a week ago.

Yep. You just might kill him…

At least he thought. He always worried as a father about his children and where you were concerned he wanted to be everything he couldn’t be when he was away filming. You were such a wonderful mother and he just wanted to match what you did for the family. This was not it.

 Mike is sleepily resting on Henry’s arm as his brief stint with crying had left him knackered. Henry happens to look down at the arm that Mitchell landed on and noticed he is starting to bruise over his arm. Henry is just beginning to look over his sons arm for the extent of the damage when simultaneously while he was touching Mike’s forearm ; there is a similar spot to his brother’s just on the opposite arm that is red and swollen and soon as he touches it gently, Mike cries out; waking up from his sleep, and also you walk in the door.

Alarmed to find one of her sons crying. Mike notices you almost instantly, crying and running over to you.

“Oh my little man what’s the matter?”

“Daddy hurt my arm!” The young boy calls out and wants the comfort of your arms but of course you couldn’t lift him. Normally you would get onto him about that, but that could be saved for later. Besides he was child so his thoughts would be more literal meaning that Henry must have touched his arm or something. 

You lean down as best you could with your 6 month stomach which was reaching the point of cumbersome, but not making you totally immobile as it did with the twins at this point, squatting so you are eye level with him and he wraps himself around you, letting you gently lift his arm. He starts hollering at your slight touch coming further into the room with his mother and father close behind.

You only had one rule really when you left the house this morning and that was for Henry not to break anything...again! However considering you had known whatever happened in your way here, this was a mistake.

The last time you left them alone for an extended amount of time the TV had been broken during a game of catch that you had already told them not to play in the house the night before you went out for the Bridal Shower.

Needless to say you hadn’t been happy with the situation at the time and it was a material thing that could be replaced. Now here you were coming to a hospital cradling one child while the other...wait...where was Mitchell?

“Daddy hurt your arm? I think that may not be the whole truth but it’s okay we can deal with it later. Okay well let’s see if we can get a really nice doctor to take a look at it and I’ll talk to Daddy.”

You say comforting him and pretending to be mad at Henry who honestly already looks wrecked about whatever had happened between the time that you left and now. You press the call button and someone comes in almost immediately which notoriously did not happen; but you weren’t complaining. You asked for them to take a look at Mike as well. They agreed without much problem and after creating a little band for his wrist they agreed to X-ray him and gave him something for his pain.

You waddle over to the chair next to Henry who actually picks up Mike and lets him sit on his lap. He says his hellos to his parents who know the look of exhaustion and being resigned to fate way too well. They take seats as well.

“So where’s the other half of our set?”

You mildly joke.

“He should be back any moment; they’ve taken him to get an X-Ray.”

At that moment a wheel chair appears with a sleepy child in it, his blue eyes drifting in and out of lucidness.

“Moooommmmmmy!!!!”

He says but his voice is dragging indicating they had given him something to ease the pain. You let the nurse help him into bed and go over to him while Henry’s parents take over for comforting Mike.

“Hi baby. How’s your arm?”

“It was hurt-ed momma but it’s not anymore. I feels weird. I sleepy.”

You push back his riotous, dark curls with a soft hand.

“Okay baby go to sleep; Daddy and mommy will be here when you wake up.”

He drifts off and the nurse comes to take Mike for his X-Ray and with the alert child gone; a worried grandfather in tow to watch over him and the other sleeping, you sit back down with a sore back and a smile.

“So what really happened in the couple of hours I was gone.”

Henry looks sheepish; and rubs the back of his neck., his natural curls smushing under his fingers.

“Well we went to the park, but the rain washed us out earlier than intended. So we went back to the house and I cut on a movie, but the boys were playing and the floor was lava and the next thing I heard was a scream...”

“Wait...’the floor is lava’?”

“Yes. Our floors are made of lava and seeing as you can’t touch lava it meant jumping around while I warmed up lunch.”

You sigh but one look at the giant puppy that was your husband, you knew he honestly couldn’t feel any worse than what was happening right now. You were just glad no one had head injuries or irreversible damage. You absently rub your stomach and place a hand on a broad shoulder.

“I feel terrible Y/N. I didn’t think a little rough housing would come to this. My brothers and I had injuries but it was usually from tossing each other around and Rugby. Somehow we managed to avoid the hospital due to our roughhousing.”

You sit up and kiss your husband on the cheek. Henry was an internalizer, so you knew if he looked this upset right now then he felt 100 times worse inside.

“Things happen baby it will be okay. If it makes you feel any better they would have created an even more perilous game. They like to invent new ways to make me tear out my hair.”

The room laughs;

“They don’t normally end up in the emergency room when they are with you...or do they?”

He asks and you laugh shaking your head.

“No, but I’ve had a few close calls that made me question whose bright idea was it to have multiple children at the same time. They can be a handful individually. Babe, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

You rub at his shoulder as a comfort. Henry accepts it and caresses the top with his own. Soon Mike is in a similar state as his brother and they got him in a bed next to him. With both of them unconscious the doctor comes back in with X-ray reports that says both of them have a broken arm.

You sigh and Henry looks devastated and you only shake your head knowing the twins never did anything by the half’s nor did they ever do anything alone.

“I guess the Cavill men don’t do anything by the half huh. I asked all of them not to break anything and they managed it times two.”

A/N: This was meant to be fluff about a peak in the life of Henry Cavill with Children. 

More celebration prompt fics will be posted when I wake up in the am because after work today I just do not have it in me to edit anything else tonight, but I hope you enjoyed this for what it is.

TAGLIST: (OPEN)

Henry tag list

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[douxie-casperan]

[✂, ↕?]

The prompt below was specifically requested to be the Heart of Glass AU and features the Bad End! The second prompt will be done at a future date. 

↕ - A memory that may or may not have happened

Looking back on it the signs were there of something being wrong that couldn’t be seen being blind as they had been. Things like how Nari slowly began to close herself off haunted with sadness that they couldn’t remember seeing there before but it was evident in her eyes. She must have been hurting so much but kept putting on a brace face anyway to not make them worry and always brushing off any attempts to ask until the questions simply stopped coming. Everyone deserved privacy right? They just figured it was something that would sort it’s self out but within days of the last time they ever spoke to her she simply vanished into the night almost as though she was simply holding on that little bit longer for one of the erratic visits to come. It didn’t make the sting any less painful when word came months later when even Skrael and Bellroc began to worry over her absence. There have been more than a few sleepless nights spent wondering where she is, what she was doing, if she was simply okay that were left unanswered.

They have three reminders of the trio of beings who took him in that they always carried with them, one is etched in ink, there is the staff they love dearly even when keeping the existence of it a secret and finally the left hand which had been the first gift from Nari herself which had been carried for so many centuries of their life. This one let them be something more than useless that they would have been condemned to be otherwise making it was worth all the stares, the snide remarks and any problems it caused hundreds of times over. Now down to two, these almost felt haunted.

The other thing should have been a red flag right from the start but when you’re so traumatised and barely able to hold a thought together for more than a few seconds everything is taken at face value because beyond that is simply too much to bear. Archie confirmed she had been there to see them before Killahead while at the time they had been passed out with barely more than a handful of waking hours since it happened. She said that the Order had promised to keep the two of them safe and that she would return after ensuring that all of them would live without being in fear ever again. She wouldn’t of course, thanks to him they wouldn’t see one another again until they were living in the far-flung future of Arcadia not knowing that she was being held right beneath their feet plotting her own freedom with or without help.

Nothing comes for free; they knew that better than anyone yet never once thought to question what the price that had to be paid for such a promise to be had. It was spun to them as a means to prevent the extinction of magical beings at the behest of a mad king but it was far more than that wasn’t it? It was the ability to live without persecution being bought on the back of conquering the other to ensure it, never about restoring a balance already upset by the actions of one old man. It was so obvious and yet, and yet.

The blindfold was ripped away with a few simple words of clarifying truth and the anger it causes is barely contained any more than the magic desperate to lash out in retaliation against their own sister who stands there with helmet held in hands and a pleading expression in emerald eyes that he would somehow see her reasoning. A familiar dragon is perched on their shoulders glaring just as much bristled with a twitching tail and both can hear the echoes rattling about their brains repeating again and again of what led them here.

All of this was for you, all of it to make a world where nobody would have to suffer like you did! Gunmar is merely a means to an end for that paradise to finally come forth into reality.

At the cost of everyone else you mean, did you think for a second I'd ever want that?! Just because I suffered never meant I wanted anybody else to as well!

That was our deal, Douxie. If they would keep you both safe I would accept their power and become the Champion of Magic and right what my brother wrought against us, it was only a matter of time before we were all put to the sword and this was my one chance to finally make things right.

He's long gone! Bellroc felled him at the battle didn’t you know? His era is dead and the legacy he left drove everything underground but having a bunch of trolls running around eating people isn’t exactly going to fix everything. That’s not balance that’s genocide!

“… I’m gonna ask them myself, I want to hear the answer from them directly and if you really do care about what I think you’ll help clean up this mess you gave an open invite to instead of yanno going after the actual problem who is probably waiting for his grand moment,” is hissed whilst summoning their own staff to hand ready to use for a very specific spell reserved only for emergencies. What could be a bigger one than knowing?

“You’re older than me and I kinda liked to hope you would know better, Morgana. In case you missed the memo there’s only one person I have it out for and it sure as heck is not an entire planet full of people.”

The base is tapped and with a few whispered words a shimmering crack appears beside them that is barely visible except where the light catches the edges.

“Be better, please? Not exactly asking the world here but if I can avoid becoming jaded despite literally everything that has happened to me then I can’t see why you’re so determined to swan dive into it. I wanted you back so much, I’ve been trying so damn hard for so long to have that but right now I can’t really stand to even look at you if you can think this is remotely okay.”

“Douxie, please we can still fix this.”

They say nothing, merely giving her a soft smile before the two of them disappear beyond her reach with all the consequences she has wrought.

~~

It was all true, Skrael said so himself. Oh it was attempted to be played as somehow being a mercy that they’d been kept in the dark this entire time, of how despite so much time there had been to tell the truth that went by wasted, the same amount that could have been used to change their minds and work towards a better solution they had instead sought out something even worse than what she’d unleashed on the world fancying a bit of annihilation on a far larger scale instead. It made their heart hurt so much, why did everyone think for even one second they’d be okay with it? Any of it? That somehow being allowed to pick favourites would somehow make it magically acceptable despite knowing people that mattered to them personally could be spared while the rest would be damned?

They said culls about us too remember? All for the greater good, just a few sacrifices and spare the lot, send them forth and you’ll go free. You sound like he did.

He was… cruel, and he used you, Hisirdoux. We kept you safe; we protected you. We didn’t force the weight of the world on your shoulders- you were a boy! A young boy! You never should have had so much pressed upon you! I was only ensuring that you wouldn’t have to feel that again! You do not deserve what happened to you. Not again. I will not take part in doing that to you, not like he did.

Why were they the only one who wasn’t completely blind to what they were all heralding?

And yet didn’t stop you lying to me did it? You can’t pull a greater good on me I’ve heard it all before. Different century and it’s the same garbage. I’m tired.

Just… Let us make this right, Hisirdoux. Please. You can rest, here, Hisirdoux. You can rest, now. And in the morning, we can make it right. I can make it right.

Just tell us what we need to do and we will do it! We can’t lose you too.

It was almost ironic that this was the one time it wasn’t his fault; really it was their own if anything for believing anybody could be better than that instead of being a simple flip of the same coin. If people ended up suffering for the greater good well now that was worth it for the result because they didn’t matter, not really being little more than unnamed masses. Even Nari, one of their own, was somehow seen as an acceptable bit of fallout in the name of a false balance despite knowing she would feel each and every one of those lives being wiped out… It must have hurt to look at them, an example of both why it had to be done and why it should never be, she might have even hoped their being there might convince her siblings to change, to realise the same thing too.

They would not it seem and continuing was slowly taking everyone else down with it. Douxie did tell them both that they hoped they might yet see reason, the why, and realise why they never should have been contemplating it in the first place, of not wanting to leave and how unless they change, well they might never see one another again so please don’t try to follow. Nari was not the only one who could disappear after all as was the downside of having a very good teacher in how to do it properly and took the lessons to heart. It was probably only Archie’s presence that gave them the strength to walk away without looking back instead of breaking down crying right there over the bitter losses that were totting up one after the other though admittedly the final hug very nearly pushed them over the edge. It felt like the picture-perfect description of bittersweet.

~~

 After that things are barely held together by the thinnest of threads while the apartment is cleaned out. Nothing of importance was ever kept there but there were some things that needed to be held onto and were added to their most precious belongings taken from their room at the fortress before the argument began as an unfortunately correct precaution. Afterwards there was a key to be handed in with the words of it was simply time to move in, one place would have a notice and an apology for the suddenness while the other gained a sign saying closed until further notice knowing that the coven would likely pick over the best bits like vultures the second permission is given but they won’t mind particularly because at least anything dangerous will be removed. Right now all they care about is getting out of Arcadia and as far away as possible from the life they’d carved out there and all the traces he had tainted it with. He who had swept in taking them from their first home offering a new beginning with a home and family just to back a tyrant a few years down the line leading them to their second one just for history to repeat it’s self again and leave them in complete free fall. No lost limbs this time though, a small upside if forced to find one.

After removing the card and destroying their phone to lessen any chance of being tracked the two of them took the motorbike that was as battered and bruised as they are and rode silently through the night not caring where they would end up because anywhere else would be more than they could hope for. It’d been a while since they were last forced to rough it but they’d manage because if Douxie and Archie were anything it was survivors in a world that hated them for it and there was a lot of practice between times able to settle for any length of time. It would take three days before they felt there was enough distance to feel safe enough for risk a temporary break. The place was cheap but private having no problem with a cat companion and they were surprisingly fine about the request for a few more pillows in their room. That might have been the charm offensive and sheer exhaustion helping sell the need for it mind, was hard to tell.

Piling them up in a circle on the floor with a few blankets that had been pilfered including a few special ones that were very old, they simply flop onto them and then finally, finally allow the tears come that are without any sign of being able to stop. Within a few choked breaths a purring shape manoeuvres himself into their arms only to become louder from how tightly he’s being squeezed while a face is buried into his fur. They miss how the brand-new phone bursts into life until a voice that they felt they hadn’t heard in forever comes from it.

“Doux? Hey is that you? The hell are you I’ve be- There’s a pause upon catching the sound of someone trying to cry their heart out and her tone instantly becomes an awful lot more worried.

“Hey, hey are you okay did something happen?”

At first there is little more than the sound of snivelling and a mumbled nonsensical apology repeated over and over. She waits patiently, trying to soothe as little as she can while trapped on the other side of the speaker not even able to see what’s going on. There’s a few hiccups and stuttered starts before she finally gets the answer and of all the things in the world she could have expected this was not one of them.

“I- It happened a-again… Zoe, I, I’ve lost everything. You, you are Archie a-are all I’ve got left.”

[onceuponastory]

Coming Back Home Chapter Four: Open Heart (Nick x Y/N)

“Now you're sitting there so broken-hearted Face buried in a screen, watching other people's dreams But just remember all the fires you started Cuz when you love again, I know you'll turn it up to 10” - open heart: adrian chalifour 

Plot: Six years ago, Y/N left her hometown and all its bad memories behind, and never looked back. But now, she’s come back to be the maid of honour in her sister’s wedding. Returning ‘home’ means she has to confront her past, the last thing she wants to do. When she meets the handsome best man Nick, she feels more comfortable…until her sister asks her to show Nick around town…a town that Y/N fell out of love with a long time ago.

Can Y/N fall back in love with the town she left behind, and maybe find love of her own along the way? (based on prompt by @orphicodysseywrites​)

Tag List: @shinydixon​, @baker151910​ and @thesundrop​. Let me know if you want to be added!

Warnings: Some mentions of anxiety, abandonment and death

Note: I originally wanted this chapter to just be a filler before the next few chapters get more exciting with maybe some drama, but then this ended up being about 3k words. So...enjoy!

Read the other parts / Read this story on Wattpad!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Nick or his character! I just used Nick bc he’s the only character of Dacre’s that fits this prompt. Aside from Nick being in this, this fic has NOTHING to do with The Broken Hearts Gallery. But you should all go see the movie if you can, because it’s adorable!

That Night

“Goodnight Y/N.” Katie smiles, giving me another hug. “Love you.” 

“Love you too.” I smile. She leaves the room, and I let out the shaky breath I was holding. Even though Katie said she had forgiven me, I knew I had messed up. Nick would never want to speak to me again, and part of me still didn’t believe Katie had forgiven me. I mean, she had to, she’s my sister, and I’m the maid of honour....but what if she actually wanted me to leave? What if she never wanted to speak to me again after this? What if Nick felt the same? I wouldn’t blame him, after the way I spoke to him earlier today. Katie said he was worried about me, but when she brought me back, he was nowhere to be seen. My eyes sting again. I like Nick...a lot, and I want him to know I didn’t mean to unleash on him like I did. And I want to talk to him about it and clear it up...But I can’t, because if I did, there was a possibility that my anxieties would come true, and that I’d be abandoned and alone again, just like when my Dad left us. Maybe he was right. Maybe nobody wanted me. It wasn’t Katie’s fault, she was only a child when my Dad abandoned us. She just got stuck with me. It must’ve been something I did that caused this. It’s always my fault. Shivering, I climb into my bed. My bed is cold, causing me to shiver even more. 

Feeling even more alone, I silently cry myself to sleep.

A Few Days Later - Nine Days Until the Wedding

Walking out of my bedroom, I look up to see Nick leaving his room. I gasp slightly. “Uh...Hi Y/N.” He gives me a smile. 

“Hey.” I reply, giving a small wave. Things still felt awkward between us both, and we hadn’t really had the chance to talk to each other properly after my little....outburst. It wasn’t like we were avoiding each other...even if I was. I still wanted to make things right, but I was still unwilling to confront what would happen if Nick never wanted to see me again. And besides, we just didn’t have the time to speak to each other for more than a few minutes, because we were so busy with our separate maid of honour and best man duties. It also didn’t help that Katie was slowly becoming a bridezilla. I didn’t blame her, because the wedding was fast approaching. She just wanted everything to be okay, especially after what I did...but god, if I had to have one more talk about the correct way to position the centrepieces by millimetre, I would lose my mind. But, I wanted Katie to know that I’d stand by her and help her, regardless of the circumstances. Partly because that was my literally my job as the maid of honour, but also because I’m still terrified she’d stop talking to me after the wedding.

“Can I talk to you? I-” Nick begins, before he is cut off by: 

“For FUCK’S SAKE!” Katie yells from downstairs. See what I mean? Nick and I quickly head downstairs to see what was wrong.

“Um...sis? Are you okay?” I ask, seeing her pacing across the kitchen and biting the skin around her thumbnail. She snaps her head over to me. Anger is written across her face. 

“No Y/N. No, I am not okay. That was the person handling the napkins. They’ve just called to cancel. It’s almost a WEEK before my wedding, and we’re gonna have no fucking napkins! I mean, what are we supposed to give our guests? They can’t eat our meals without napkins! And how the hell are we going to get another vendor in time?! Stupid fucking vendors.” She hisses and almost launches her phone across the room, but I quickly take her hands in mine before she can.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s alright.” I soothe her, running my fingers over her knuckles. “We’ll get it sorted.”

“And it’s not that big a deal in the long run.” Nick tells her. The two of us look back over at him. With my eyes wide, I quickly shake my head, warning him not to poke the bear even further. “I mean-”

“Yes, Nick. I know what you meant. I’m sorry that you don’t understand how important these kinds of things are to the smooth running of a wedding. That’s so.......man of you.” Katie rolls her eyes.

“Nick’s just trying to calm you down...right, Nick?” I ask, giving him a look. Nick nods, looking slightly confused. “Tell you what.” I offer. “How about I go to the store and see if I can pick up some napkins? It’ll give you some time to cool off?” I suggest. Katie’s head snaps back to me. 

“Did you just suggest buying our napkins from TARGET?!” She exclaims angrily, squeezing my hands tightly. I have to stop myself from letting out a yelp of pain. “Everyone’s going to notice! We’ll...be a laughing stock!” 

“Katie, I really don’t think anyone’s going to notice, and besides...you don’t really have a choice. Now...can you let go of my hands? Please?” I say slowly, trying not to incur her wrath even more.

“Y/N’s just trying to help, right?” Nick says, coming to stand closer to me. “I’ll even go with her to make sure she picks the best ones.” Katie is silent for a few moments and she also lessens her grip on my hands. I quickly shoot Nick a grateful look.

“....You’re right.” She nods. “I knew I could trust you, Nick. And besides. It’s a perfect bonding opportunity for you two.” She turns away. My stomach twists. Bringing Nick means he’s going to bring up what happened between us, and my worst fears might be proven right. Katie takes out a piece of fabric from her bag and shoves it at me. “This is the colour of the bridesmaid dresses. I expect you to remember this colour Y/N, given that you helped me pick them out. The napkins must match this colour.” She insists. “But be quick. I need you two back here soon. I’m going upstairs, and if any more vendors cause trouble, I’m going to stab them with a fucking fork.” She threatens, walking out of the room. 

“Jesus Christ, her grip is like a fucking vice.” I hiss when I’m sure Katie is out of earshot, holding my hands.

“Does she need us back to help her with more wedding stuff or to stop her stabbing the vendors? I’m not sure which it is.” Nick jokes, making me laugh. Maybe things were better between us both about what happened a few days ago. 

“Well, guess we better go before we have to find out.” I sigh, picking up the car keys. Nick follows me outside to the car, and we both get in. 

“Oh, by the way, can we...uh, talk later on?” He asks. My heart sinks. And there it is.

~~~

“How am I supposed to know what colour matches our dresses?!” I exclaim, grabbing a pile of napkins and holding them against the fabric Katie gave me. “Nick.” I sigh. “Which napkin colour best matches this?” I ask, thrusting about five similarly coloured napkins at him. Nick looks startled, and honestly, I don’t blame him. 

“I guess....this one?” He points at one. 

“That’ll do. Thanks.” I toss all of the similarly coloured napkins into the cart. “Well, that’s us. Anything you and the groomsmen need whilst we’re here?” I ask. Nick shakes his head.

“Nope, we’re all good.” Dammit. I was hoping he’d say they still needed to buy everything, so we could postpone our talk. Nick and I pay for the napkins and head out towards the car. “So...” Nick begins, getting in next to me and buckling his seatbelt. I look over at him, bracing myself for what I know is coming next. “Are you hungry? Cause I’m starving, how about we grab some lunch? I think there’s a McDonald’s back there.” He asks quickly. Before I can even reply, or ask him about the talk he wanted us to have, he holds out his wallet. “I’ll pay!”

“Um....” I begin, frowning slightly. “Sure? But if Katie gets mad at us for being late back, I’ll blame you.” Nick agrees, and I drive out of the parking lot. As Nick points me in the direction of McDonald’s, only one thought is in my mind. “Is he avoiding this talk too?”

~~~

“So.” Nick begins, pausing only to take a bite of his burger. Freddie Mercury’s vocals play faintly in the background from the car radio. “I think Queen is infinitely better than The Beatles.” He states.

“Nick, you don’t have to worry about offending me or anything. I absolutely agree. To be honest, I think most people would agree too.” I grin. “Want a french fry?” I offer, holding out my container. He shakes his head. “Good. Was hoping you’d say no.” I tell him, munching on my remaining fries. Nick laughs. “Oh! By the way, Nick....” I begin, licking ketchup off of my fingers. “Thanks for coming to help me with this...and for dealing with our family drama. I promise Katie’s not usually this bad. Wedding nerves must be getting the best of her.” Nick chuckles.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind, honestly. I know part of my best man job is to make sure everything runs smoothly...but I really enjoy spending time with you.” He smiles. Butterflies start fluttering around in my stomach. He...actually likes spending time with me? Maybe I was wrong. Perhaps I haven’t ruined everything.

“You-You do?” I stammer. “Even after what happened?” Nick’s face falls slightly, and the butterflies in my stomach turn into lead, dropping further into the pit of my stomach. Here it comes. 

“Yeah...we were supposed to talk about it, right?” I nod. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be-”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to-” Nick and I speak at the same time. The two of us laugh. “You first.” 

“Well.” I take a breath. “I’m sorry for being rude that day and kind of...unleashing my built-up familial issues onto you without warning. I was acting weird, and you had every right to ask me if you were the reason. I was really horrible to you, and kind of embarrassing, so I totally understand if you hate me and never want to speak to me again. Just tell me, it’s okay. I mean, to be honest, I’d-”

“No.” Nick says, cutting me off. I look at him, confused. Does he...does he want to stop talking to me? I was right, I- “No.” He repeats, as if reading my thoughts. “You’re wrong. I was a dick, and you had every right to call me out on it.” 

“No, you weren’t, I was-” Nick raises a finger, which shushes me. “Sorry.” I mumble.

“Anyway. I was out of line with what I said. I overreacted because I thought you didn’t like me, and so I took my worries out on you. I had no idea you were struggling so much with being back here, and with showing me around, especially after you and Katie’s past...which I also knew nothing about. I’m so sorry if I made those feelings worse. And you don’t have to worry about me not wanting to hang out with you anymore, I told you that I love it.” He leans in closer, staring at me intently. “If you feel upset by anything I do, please don’t be afraid to talk to me, alright?” He asks. I nod. Well, that...went differently than expected. “Can I ask you something, though? That night, when you found me in the kitchen at like 2am, and you fell asleep on the table...did you have a nightmare that night? Is that why you were up so late?” Part of me wants to lie to him, tell him that I just heard a bump in the night and that nothing was wrong...but no. Nick’s been so lovely to me and dealt with all my issues, so he deserves the truth.

“Yes. I did. To be honest, Nick, I’ve had a nightmare every night since I’ve been back here. But it’s nothing new. They’ve been a normal part of my life for a good ten years now, and I don’t see them letting up any time soon. It’s...okay.” I shrug. “I used to see a therapist back in New York, and she told me nightmares are a normal response to what happened to us. Turns out having your Mom die and your Dad abandoning you because he doesn’t love you anymore in the space of a few weeks causes a lot of trauma. Who knew!” I joke. Nick frowns. “Sorry...” I wince. “I like making jokes about it sometimes. It helps me heal in a way.”

“No, I didn’t mean you.” He replies. “Listen. If you have another nightmare and get upset, or need someone to calm you down, just come across the hall and speak to me, okay?”

“Nick, I can’t do that, you-”

“It’s fine. Honestly, I want to make sure you know that you’ll always have someone there for you whilst you’re here. I want to be that person.” I try to say something in response to that, but my mind goes blank. Outside of my family and therapist, nobody was that nice to me...so willing to deal with me and my issues. I lean forward and hug Nick. 

“Thank you.” I whisper, tears filling my eyes. “It means a lot.” Quickly, I pull away from him. “S-Sorry, I don’t know if you’re okay with hugs, or...” I stammer, completely avoiding how we almost kissed a few days ago.

“No...It’s okay.” He says, his voice breathless and husky. It sends shivers up my spine. Nick keeps staring at me, his blue eyes intently focused on me. It’s like it was a few days ago...when we almost kissed. It feels different, though, in some way. It feels...right. Like how this was meant to be. Before I could even do anything, however, my phone rings. Katie’s name flashes on the screen. Typical. Interrupted by my sister again. Guess some things never change. Leaning back into my seat, I answer the call, shooting Nick an apologetic look. “Heyyyy sis....Yes I know, we’ve been gone a while. Sorry, we got napkins then some lunch. Yes, yes, I know you need us back. Still, we got hungry, and-” I hold the phone away from my ear as Katie launches into a tirade about how important it is for us to be on time to help her and Adam with things. 

“Tell her it was my idea.” Nick whispers, shooting me a thumbs up.

“It was Nick’s idea...yes, I’ll tell him. Okay, see you soon. Love you too. Bye.” I hang up. “She told you if that was your idea, then you’re the one dealing with the kids at the wedding.”

~~~

The Next Day

“No, Caroline...it’s not a country estate, there’s not big grounds or anything. It’s just a hotel in the centre of town...Yes, it’s charming. No, there’s no damp, I promise.” I roll my eyes. Caroline was Adam’s older sister, and she was the closest thing to a Karen I have ever seen in my life. She liked everything to be just so, which is fine. Still, with the number of waitresses she had berated and probably caused long term scarring to probably bordering on the hundreds, she was definitely a Karen in my books. Nick walks into the room as I’m on the phone. “Look, I just called to double-check that you’re going to be here on time for the bachelorette party this Friday.” I sigh. “No, I don’t know if they have that bottle of champagne here...The local store is quite limited in its selection, yes. I will check. Maybe bring a bottle just in case....Okay. See you Friday.” Hanging up, I roll my eyes and check her name off on the list. 

“Do you know you bite your tongue when you focus? It’s quite cute.” Nick asks, placing a mug of tea beside me.

“Is there alcohol in this?” I ask. Nick frowns for a second, then realisation dawns on his face. “Was that Caroline on the phone?” I nod. “Oh.”

“God, she’s insufferable. I don’t even know why Katie has her in the bridal party.” I groan, taking a sip of my tea. “I guess since she’s going to be her sister-in-law, she feels like she has to, but fuck me, if I have to hear about this particular bottle of champagne from France in the 1700s one more time, I will lose my mind.” 

“Yeah I’ve met her too, I know exactly what you mean.” Nick responds. “With me, it was talking about how she has to have the most perfect thoroughbred horses for her dearest children Timothy and Petunia to have riding lessons on.” Nick puts on a ridiculous posh accent as he speaks, making us both laugh.

“Oh? Pay my servers a tip so they could actually....live? Oh darling, I absolutely couldn’t! How on earth will I pay for all my darling Timothy’s piano lessons?!” I copy his posh accent, and Nick laughs even more. “God, we’re terrible.” I say through my laughter. “Better not say that during our speeches.” 

“Are you joking about my children and I? Let me talk to your manager immediately. I will sue you into next year!” Nick orders, putting on his posh accent again. I start laughing. “Oh, you’re laughing now? How rude.” He teases, making me laugh even harder.

"God, Nick, you’re going to be the death of me, or my sides, at some point.” I giggle, trying to catch my breath. 

“Anyway, no, we’re not terrible. Caroline is.” Nick corrects me. “Sooo, whatcha up to?”

“Just phoning the bachelorettes to see if they’re still okay for Friday’s party.”

“Oh, we’re all sorted for that on our side. Cannot wait.” Nick grins. 

“Oh, we’re sorted for that on our side. All of us are well put together, and have no issues like bitchy bridesmaids on the bachelor side.” I jokingly mock him. Nick fakes being offended. "Since you guys are sorted on your side, you can sit here while I finish up if you want. I just have these girls left...aaaand my phone’s about to die. Give me five, I’ll go grab my charger.” I tell him, quickly heading upstairs. When I reach the top, Katie is standing there. “Oh! Sorry, didn’t realise you were there. Did you...did you hear us making fun of your new sister in law? I’m sorry, we-” She holds up her hand to stop me.

“Yes, I heard. But don’t worry, it’s fine. You guys are right, she’s a bitch.” She giggles, causing me to laugh too. I walk past her to get my charger, but she stops me. “Actually...what I wanted to say was that I heard you and Nick laughing...and it made me smile.” I frown. “Well, for as long as I can remember, you were always really sad as a kid, and a teen....and an adult.”

“Wow, thanks sis.” 

“As I was saying, given what happened to us both, that’s understandable. But god Y/N, hearing you and Nick laughing...that’s the happiest I’ve ever heard you sound. And the hardest I’ve heard you laugh...in a long time. I know you guys just met a week or so ago, but he really seems to bring out the best in you.” I’m speechless again for a while, and all I can reply with is:

“I guess you’re right.”

“That’s why I’m expecting a credit for introducing you both when it’s your turn to get married.” She winks. I gasp, and quickly shush her.

“Shh! He might hear you! And we’re not getting married!” Katie sighs.

“Look Y/N, I don’t mean to push you, it’s just... after what happened with our Dad, and then Nana dying, I thought we’d never be happy again, but then I met Adam, and he supports and uplifts me everyday. I’m finally happy.” I smile softly.

“I know Katie, and-”

“No, no. Listen, please.” I stop talking, and she continues. “I remember that feeling of happiness, and what it looks like...and god Y/N, I see it whenever Nick looks at you, or when you talk about each other. Your faces just light up. I know it’s not my place to force you to be with him, but just...just keep it in mind okay?” I nod.

“Thanks sis.” I pull her into a tight hug. As I watch her disappear into her and Adam’s bedroom, her words play in my mind. Realising Nick is still waiting for me, I quickly grab my charger and go back downstairs.

“Hey.” Nick looks up as I sit back beside him. “Everything alright?” 

“He really seems to bring out the best in you.” Echoes in my head. Maybe Katie was right. Everytime I was with Nick, I felt...good. Maybe it was because he did make me happy. I smile.

“Yeah Nick, everything’s great.”

[thorinthehottotty]

May 6th - Lyn's Writing Event - Thorin

Prompt - Childhood Neighborhood

A/N: Holy shit these settings are almost over! Nooooo don't let it end! Seriously, this has been a blast! Partially based off of me bringing Cory home the first time...

Summary: Thorin has arrived in our world and accompanies you to your childhood home to meet your parents.

Warnings:

He had seen you nervous before, but you'd always had a handle on it. Packing had been a nightmare. You were pacing and obviously couldn't think straight as you ran between rooms collecting way too much for the weekend trip to your parents. You were muttering to yourself and he was surprised by how insane you looked, running back and forth.

"Should we pack snacks for the ride?" You call from the kitchen. "It's only a couple hours away, but you know, in case?"

Thorin frowns, becoming nervous himself at how chaotic you were. "Grab something for you. I will be fine." He'd easily gotten his things around for the trip. Easily. Quickly. Efficiently... This was a train wreck, as you would call it.

When he'd finally coaxed you into the car you bit your lip, not turning the key in the ignition as you hesitate. "Y/N, we don't have to visit them if you're uncomfortable." He can visibly see the racing of your pulse in your neck.

"Okay," you start firmly and turn in your seat. "I'll give you the run down of my family." You're staring at him, more intensely than he's ever witnessed and its unnerving. "I have never brought anyone home before. Ever. Ever. Okay?" Thorin nods slowly. This was going to be a big deal to you then.

"I can handle that."

"My mom is going to be all over you. She's weird and wants to be liked. Expect her to say weird things and get in your space. My brothers, that should be a breeze. They'll probably try to give you a hard time because you're quite a bit older than I am. They're annoying shitheads with big egos." Thorin cracks a smile, adoring the nervous preparing you were giving him, your words blending from your fast speech. "My dad," you croak as if in pain and he sees your eyes beginning to water, "my dad is the bane of my existance. He has no filter. At all. And he enjoys making people squirm. Expect him to say some... Horrible things at my expense." Thorin was now a little nervous himself, but mostly amused by your reaction.

"I can stay here if you desire."

"No, no. I'm not worried about them not liking you. I'm worried about them behaving themselves around you."

"I will not think ill of you." He grips your hand on your lap and you let out a sigh of relief. While you were still nervous, you weren't mad with it.

He could handle this. The next hiccup didn't come until you had arrived at the great big house with a worn dirt drive. You narrowed your eyes on the garage, something askew to you. "That's weird. There are no cars." The land was flush with gardens and trees and greenery. It was calm and peaceful as you parked. Cicadas, as you called them, were buzzing loudly.

He watches as you pull out your phone, and lift it to your ear. He can vaugely hear a woman pick up. "Hey, ma. Thorin and I are home. Are you guys here?" You ask. There is an answer and your eyes bug in exhasperation. "What do you mean? Coldwater is like two hours away! I though you guys were going to be here!" Thorin smirks at you, amused to see you deflate. "Well when are you going to be back?"

He could see your frustration and felt sympathy for you. He could see where some of your 'planning' side came from. If your family was this whimsy with plans than he could understand why you always felt the need to have a plan.

You turn to find him grinning at you. "Alright, alright. I'll see you guys when you get here. Love you too. Bye." And you hung up the phone before turning to Thorin, nostrils flaring as you give a close mouthed scream of frustration. "My parents left cause my mom wanted to go look at a car in coldwater. Let's just unpack the car and go inside."

Thorin nodded and followed in behind you. Gazing around in amusement at the different themes that liter the house. He was curious to know how you grew up and this was greatly expanding that curiousity. Your childhood home! How nice! You lead him upstairs, calming a barking dog that wiggled excitedly at the both of you before moving into a room.

"This is my old room. Enter at your own risk." He gazes about, surprised to see the bookshelves lined with books and a large lofted bed, a desk and computer underneith. He sets his things down while you toss your bag up on the bed. And he begins to gaze over the titles on the shelf. There are a couple missing titles and he reaches for it.

"No, no! I would recommend not looking at the sketchbooks!" You laugh nervously. "I'm not the greatest artist."

"I was unaware that you drew," he murmurs.

"I used to. Haven't had time lately." He could see the burning of your cheeks. "Nothing that interesting in them, ya know." He arches an eyebrow at you.

"Somehow, I doubt that." He doesn't miss your mischevious smile.

It's quickly gone when the dog begins to howl and you dart to the window. Horror fills your face. "Oh no! My grandpa's here." You fly to the door. "Oh no! Oh no!" Thorin frowns.

"Stay here! Don't touch anything!" You gasp, flying from the room. Thorin pauses, then tugs at a rather worn hardcover sketchbook. And he opens it, shocked by the detailed faces that flutter through each page. He hears you greeting your grandfather down stairs. There is an exchange and then you groan.

"Papa, don't be mad about this. But I should probably introduce you to someone. Hold on." Thorin quickly sets the sketchbook down and moves to meet you in the doorway. "He sat down," you grumble, frowning. He's here to stay. "I was not prepared to have you meet my grandpa... He's a little harsh. And I'm his favorite."

"Oh, are you?" Thorin asks.

"Yes, now come on." And Thorin trots down the stairs behind you to find an elderly man sitting in a recliner comfortably. He sees the shock turn to raunchy amusement.

"What were you two doing in your room?" The man grunts, sipping a thermos.

"Mom and Dad are supposed to be here! We just got here, don't give me that!" You shout.

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Grandpa, this is Thorin. Thorin, this is my grandpa who shows up unannouced frequently." You muttered the last part to Thorin and he sees your grandfather narrow his eyes on you.

"What?" He grunts.

"If you wore your damn hearing aid you'd know!" The old man waves a hand and stands up with a great deal of effort.

"I'll leave you both to your canoodling. Just tell your ma that I stopped by." You are left to more frustration. The old man shakes Thorin's hand and they grin at each other, sharing in amusement at this.

"He looks like a hippy," the old man grunts as he leaves, patting you on the shoulder. It makes you roll your eyes as he shuffles out. You shake your head.

"If that's the worst of it... You can relax."

"Oh god... He's gonna tell my whole family we were canoodling alone in my room!" You cry, stomping dramatically up the stairs. Thorin followed, chuckling. Your frazzled nature is amusing him a great deal more than it should.

"Relax, we were not canoodling. Whatever that means."

"Were you looking at my sketches?" You gasp. Before he can answer there is a wild shrieking from outside. A long annoying noise that has you glowering.

"Ah fuck. Well. My brothers are home." He was beginning to like this more and more. He'd never found you so animated.

The hours passed, you grew increasingly nervous as your brothers annoyed you. They both were struck dumb by the dwarf standing in your bedroom. And went quiet at the sight. Then began the nonstop questions of him. Some were forgotten quickly. Others not as much.

Eventually you buzzed, making tea as they made (pleasant) conversation with him. Quickly falling into his kingly charm. And then it happened. The kitchen door opened and in stalked you parents. Cooly greeting everyone.

They were perfectly polite and it left you flabbergaust. How dare they act normal! The one time you were preparing for their theatrics and they act normal! You deflate into your seat as Thorin chuckles.

"Don't."

@tomisbaeholland

[unfortunatelysirius]

STUDY BUDDY // SIRIUS BLACK X READER

「 ❁ 」PROMPT 「 ❁ 」 You’re Sirius’s History of Magic tutor, but it occurs to you that maybe he doesn’t need the extra help.

「 ❁ 」WARNINGS 「 ❁ 」 Swearing, Fluff

「 ❁ 」WORD COUNT 「 ❁ 」

2426

       “Y/N, I have to say this before I go mad,” said Lily Evans out of the blue one day, as you and your four dormmates lounged in the common-room. “You’re bloody oblivious.”

       You looked up from your Transfiguration essay. Against your will, a beetroot flush spread across your cheeks. Why would Lily say something like that? What did I do wrong? “What do you mean?” you asked her.

       Lily exchanged a glance with Marlene, who was absentmindedly throwing a wad of parchment up into the air. While Lily’s expression was unreadable, Marlene’s was very readable; layers of anger and irritation were flickering on the hollows of her jaw. The girl in question sat up, caution-less, and blurted out, “Are you really that thick?”

       Silence. Marlene quickly covered her mouth, looking simultaneously unabashed and apologetic, while Lily bit her lip and sighed. Mary was twiddling her fingers, looking out-of-place in the conversation—and Alice, well, she was looking over at Frank Longbottom, who was sat with a few other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

       You sat down your quill. “Well, I don’t know what you’re talking about. At all. What is it?”

       It was Alice, of all the girls, to say, “They’re talking about Sirius.”

       “What about Sirius?” You wracked your brain for a logical explanation for why Sirius would have anything to do with this conversation—why he, of everything and anything that could be a part of this conversation, was what made you “thick” and “oblivious.” There was nothing. “He’s who I tutor in History of Magic. What’s he got to do with anything?”

       Lily let out a groan, while the other girls shared frustrated glances. Was there something you were missing? It seemed so. Made especially apparent when Marlene huffed out a raspberry and said, with all the poise and subtlety of a bear, “He fancies you, you nitwit.”

       No. No. Your expression grew befuddled, and your brow twitched. Did you raise an eyebrow, or furrow your forehead until your face was nothing but creases and squinty eyes? You couldn’t decide. “Sirius does not fancy me,” you said, ignoring the way your heart spluttered at the news. “He’s a womanizer. Womanizers don’t settle.”

       “He would for you!” Marlene burst. The entire common room glanced over, and Alice sunk deep into the divan when Frank’s attention diverted to the girls. A look of apology was on Marlene’s face, but again—she didn’t look as sorry as she should have been. “Sorry. Anyway… We’ve been here for—what? Five years? And I’ve never seen Sirius like this with anyone. He doesn’t respect boundaries, and he flirts even when the girl’s not bloody interested. The only girl he’s ever shown respect for is Lily, and that’s because James has claimed her for himself.”  

       “Hey!” protested Lily, but she went ignored.

       You shook your head. “I don’t believe that at all,” you said. Your mind was in an over-analytical uproar, going through past memories and picking apart scenes that supported and uncorroborated Marlene’s claim. What you concluded was that Sirius saw you as a sister. Why else was he so kind and respectful towards you? “I think he sees me as a sister.”

       “Oh, Merlin.” Marlene face palmed. Alice broke into a giggle fit. Lily’s lips twitched, like she was half a second from joining Alice in uncontrollable laughter, and Mary… well, she just looked confused. She wasn’t there when Marlene, Alice, and Lily conspired about Sirius fancying you. “I think I’m going to cry. Y/N, you are frustratingly dim.”

       You shook your head, chancing a glance around the common room to make sure no one of notable importance was around. You honestly probably would have fainted if you had to explain to any of the Marauders what this conversation was about, and where the idea of a crush was coming from. Any of them would laugh it off—except Sirius, who would hang this over your head until the day you died. And that was what reasoning you gave yourself when you pretended to roll up a sleeve and check an imaginary wristwatch, yanking down the cloth before any of your dormmates could notice the lie.

       “Well, would you look at the time—I have a session with Sirius in a few minutes.” You started throwing your things into your satchel, barely sparing a wince when your Transfiguration essay was crumbled and carelessly shoved into the bag. Oh well, I’ll fix it later, you thought dismissively, only taking precaution when you had a bottle of ink in your hand.

       The girls watched you suspiciously. “I thought you only had sessions on Tuesdays and Thursdays,” said Lily, her mouth twisting into a frown.

       “We changed it, to fit with his Quidditch schedule and my prefect duties.”

       “Halfway through the semester?” Marlene was catching on. So were the other three, though Mary didn’t verbalize her suspicions—something you were ever-so-thankful for.

       You gave them a quick smile. ���Yup. Bye!” You hightailed it out of the common room, barely dodging the Marauders as they were just entering from the Fat Lady portrait.

       “Oh, hullo, Y/N!” said Sirius, flashing you a damnably charming smile. For a moment, you lost your wits and all you wanted to do was smile and say your own, albeit awkward, greeting—but then you remembered…

        Marlene. Lily. Alice. Mary.

       All undoubtedly watching this potential catastrophe, from the oblivious look on Sirius’s face to the dawning horror in yours.

       “Hey, Sirius!” you said in reply. You made sure to ignore your dormmates, who were burning holes in your backside. “Ready to study?”

       His warm, inviting features turned confused. “I thought we—” The bespectacled one, James, thumped him in the back—a weird gesture, but one you found yourself appreciating, nonetheless. Sirius’s face reddened. “Yeah, okay. I do have my book and some parchment on me… Might need to borrow a quill.” He sounded strangely nervous as he held up his bag, which seemed to overflow with materials. James and Remus were silently observing him, one with a shite-eating grin and the other with a subtle smile.

       You nodded, in a rush to leave. So rushed, in fact, that your mind barely took time to observe Sirius’s red face and shy, embarrassed demeanor—something that you could have put into the support pile for Marlene’s claim. “Okay, let’s go.” Not realizing just what you were doing, you grabbed Sirius’s hand. And you dragged him behind you as you left the common room in a hurry.

       “Wow, where’s the fire?” he joked, voice a bit too shaky to be coming from Sirius. But you ignored it. Desperate to get away from the vicinity, when you wouldn’t put it past Marlene and Lily to follow the two of you to the classroom. “Y/N—”

       You realized what you were gripping, and quickly dropped it. His hand. Oh Merlin, you hoped your palm hadn’t been too sweaty. “Sorry. I just really needed to get away,” you said, knowing it was a lousy explanation. There was literally no reason for you to manhandle him like that, you tosser. You flinched outwardly, feeling a copious amount of guilt. “That’s no excuse, I know—”

       “You don’t need excuses to hold my hand, Y/N,” said Sirius. When you stopped in your tracks and looked over at him, he was smiling. Humor danced in his eyes. Of course he’s joking, you thought, wanting to throttle yourself for thinking he meant anything by it. Of course. He wouldn’t like me like that. “I’m slacking in History of Magic, anyway.”

       McGonagall said you’ve been doing exceptionally well in the class, though… You shook your head, trying not to dwell on suspicions. Unlike Marlene, you didn’t like to doubt people; Sirius wouldn’t lie. He wasn’t a very conniving person. “Alright. We’ll go to the Arithmancy classroom. I’ve got a key.”

       “Why do you have a key?” Sirius looked intrigued. He probably thought you did something against the prefect code—like stealing. You felt slightly bad for disappointing his expectations.

       “You’re not my only student, Sirius,” you told him, feeling shy. Sirius’s smile flattened completely, a look of bemusement flashing in his unusual grey eyes. “I tutor a fourth-year in Arithmancy, and another fifth year in Ancient Runes.”

       “I thought I was your only student,” said Sirius, sounding and looking like a petulant child.

       You loosed a sigh. Against your better judgment, you felt obligated to reassure him. “Sirius, they’re just blokes I help with homework,” you tried.

       Sirius stopped in the middle of the hallway. He stared at you with this look of utter frustration, and before you knew it, he was throwing his hands into the air, one reaching to tug furiously at his curly, charcoal-black hair. “Yeah! And I bet they asked McGonagall for you specifically! They’re not slick; I know they heard me telling Prongs about it—”

       “What?” you said abruptly. On a different occasion, you might have felt guilty for interrupting him, but the way he worded what he said… “Sirius, don’t tell me… you…”

       Sirius’s face turned red. And he said nothing.

       “Why?” Marlene’s assumptions whizzed through your head. They didn’t sound so implausible now. In fact, the rational voice in your head told you to firmly believe them.

       “Weren’t we going to study?” Sirius wouldn’t look you in the eye. “Let’s just forget I said anything, and just—” He cut himself off. His gaze was anxious as he repeatedly glanced from you to the ground.

       You shook your head, but otherwise said nothing. Making sure Sirius saw the suspicion in your gaze, you felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction when his own gaze lowered, embarrassed. It was very un-Sirius-like. You wondered what his head looked like at that moment—if it was haywire or as calm as an abandoned poolside.

       The two of you walked in anxious silence all the way to the Arithmancy classroom. Even when you got the door, you found yourself void of anything to say. The same could not be said for the bloke at your side. As you rummaged through your bag, searching for the key, Sirius cleared his throat.

       “Are you angry?” he asked. When you looked over at him, classroom key in hand, you couldn’t help but to raise an eyebrow. He couldn’t be serious.

       Sirius is my middle name, you imagined him saying, as cheeky as always, and you wondered where his humor had gone. He seemed far too nervous to be a Marauder, and that observation made you a tad-bit more irritated than you should have been.

       Even if Marlene were right, a crush wouldn’t make someone so unlike their usual self.

       “No, I’m not angry. Just irritated,” you told him as you unlocked the door. You pushed it open, gesturing for him to be the first one inside. He slowly went, after giving you a reluctant glance.

       He silently went and sat at one of the tables. By the time you made your way over, he already had his book and parchment out. But he was looking at you sheepishly. Pursing your lips, you said, “What?”

       “I need to borrow a quill,” he said.

       You shook your head. “You won’t need a quill.”

       Sirius looked confused. You couldn’t blame him. You hardly even knew what you were doing, let alone saying.

       Be bold. You’re a Gryffindor! you thought. But looking at Sirius, as he sat there, staring, this look of apprehension on his face…

       You flushed.

       “What?” Sirius leaned forward in his seat, ignoring his parchment as a roll of it fell on the ground. “Are you alright, Y/N?”

       “Do you fancy me?” you blurted out.

       It was almost comical how quickly Sirius’s body retracted. How his eyes widened. How his jaw fell open.

       How quick he was to stammer out, “W-Wha… w-where’d you get that idea? Ha-ha…”

       His eyes weren’t looking anywhere near you, and his skin was flushed red. His behavior was almost identical to yours.

       “Marlene said you fancy me,” you told him. You wanted to curse yourself for admitting who put the idea in your head, as Sirius would definitely say something to Marlene in the near future. What kind of friend were you? “I mean, I didn’t think she was right… I still don’t… but I just wanted to ask. Clear the air.”

       Clear the air, my arse. You just want to see if he’d be a willing shagging participant. The lustful part of you stayed silent, in complete agreement.

       Sirius let out a breath. “Okay, so… maybe, there is the slight chance… I do. Yeah, a slight. Itty-bitty.” He raised a hand, putting just a centimeter of distance between his thumb and pointer finger. “Very tiny! About as small as Snivellus’s brain.”

       “Is that why you asked McGonagall to have me tutor you?” You crinkled your brow. When Sirius stayed silent, his eyes expressive of where his answer lied, you let out a laugh. You couldn’t help it; the womanizing Sirius, going to the lowest of heights just to spend time alone with you. With you, of all people. What were the odds?

       “Yes, laugh at me!” Sirius looked a hundred more times embarrassed than he already did, his face cocked in the opposite direction of you. His face was so red, you could hardly tell what natural pigment his skin was. “Right before you reject me. What ways a bird has of afflicting a man’s ego… Merlin’s beard, Y/N, you are heartless.”

       “I wouldn’t bring it up if I didn’t fancy you back,” you told him.

       “Yeah, I bet—wait, what?” Sirius’s head snapped towards you. “Are you being serious?”

       “There is only one Sirius in this room, and it isn’t me.” Your lip twitched, and you lowered your gaze. That previous Gryffindor confidence was wearing off, and you were back to your usual self—reserved and awkward. “But… yeah. I’m not lying.”

       Sirius hopped up from where he was sitting, knocking the chair out from underneath himself. Before you knew it, your gaze was locking onto a pair of shoes just inches from your own, and when your eyes traveled up, they met a silver pair. “That’s… great news,” he breathed.

       “Yeah,” you breathed back.

       Moments passed, and the two of you continued to stare at one another.

       “I really want to kiss you,” he suddenly said. His hangs hung limply to his sides.

       Before you could tell yourself no, that this wasn’t the best place, you replied, “So kiss me.”

       And so he did, History of Magic study-work be damned.

[nights-pdf]

a/n: this is my first time writing something and feeling good enough to post it. id appreciate any and all constructive criticism. ik im not the best writer and i want to get better so pls share and help me out. ty. i hope you enjoy.

warnings: depression & anxiety are both mentioned. i dont think i went too far into detail but pls be aware for your mental health. also kinda angsty.

roses: a.i.

Ashton and I have never been one for secrets, or at least I didn’t think we were, but things have been different. He has been ignoring me for almost three weeks now, only talking to me when I show up at his house, demanding to at least see him. To see that physically he’s okay. Mike and Luke will only talk to me if I don’t bring him up. As soon as I mention Ashton they suddenly ‘have to go’ and hurry to hang up. Cal will continue to talk to me but he totally ignores whatever questions I ask about him.

I was on Instagram and I saw Ashton on Luke’s story, the first time I’ve seen him in a week and a half. That’s how I ended up on Luke’s porch, working up the courage to ring the damn bell. He hasn’t left you with any options. He’s ignoring you, your other friends aren’t hanging out with you, he brought this on himself.

I press the doorbell, listening to the soft chime echoing in the house and I hear fast approaching footsteps. “Coming!” A voice calls out and within seconds the door is pulled open and I catch Sierra’s bright smile. 

“Dee, I- hi.” She says, her smile faulting and my heart breaks. I was hoping she wasn’t here. I was praying that she didn’t listen to me cry about my fear of losing Ashton and then play board games with him the next day. But she was. 

“This was stupid.” I mumble quickly, fighting off the tears that are threatening to spill and Sierra reaches out for my hand. 

“No, no, it’s not stupid.” She consoles and I shake my head, yanking my hand out of reach.

“I’ll leave you guys to yourselves. Just, um, just tell him that I’m sorry— for whatever I did.” I tell her with a tight smile. 

“Si! What are you doing, it’s your turn?!” Ashton shouts from deeper in the house. 

“Give me a minute!” She says quickly, stepping out onto the porch with me and closing the door. “I’m so sorry, I wish I could’ve explained it all to you, but it wasn’t my place. I tried literally parent trapping you and Ashton but he always canceled and I— it’s no excuse, but I’m sorry.” She says, her brown eyes softening and I shake my head. 

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I just—“ I take a deep breath, calming my anxiety while I make an arguably regrettable decision that’ll change my life in mere seconds. “I’m not gonna be in LA much longer and I thought it was insensitive to just drop that in the group chat or something.” I tell her and her eyes widen.

“What? You’re— you’re leaving?” She asks and I nod. “What about the boys? The band— I mean you’ve been a crew member forever.” She adds and I shake my head. 

“It’s hard working with a band that won’t talk to you, Si.” I tell her softly and the front door opens. Si and I both turn to see all four boys stuffed in the doorway. 

“Dee.” Luke says, clearing his throat and elbowing Calum, who’s beside him, in the stomach. 

“Hey, Dee.” Cal says and I smile softly. 

“Hey, I was— I was just leaving.” I tell them, turning around and someone catches my wrist. I turn to face Sierra and she drops my hand. 

“You tell them.” She says and I shake my head. 

“Tell us what?” Michael ask and she quirks an eyebrow. 

“I’m taking my friends offer to go on tour with her.” I tell them, turning to face the boys and my eyes catch Ashton’s. “She’s based in New York City, so I’m moving out there.” I add and Luke is the first to speak.

“You’re leaving? When?” He asks and I shrug. 

“Probably by the end of the month.” I tell him and Ashton shakes his head. 

“You’re just gonna leave? Forget the past what— six years?” He asks and I shake my head. 

“You have no right to be mad at me. You haven’t spoken to me in almost three weeks. I only know you’re okay because I see you in their stories. You want to walk away? Fine, but don’t be mad because I’m walking away too.” I tell him, brushing away the tears and he shakes his head. 

“You think I don’t miss you?” He asks softly and I shake my head. 

“Then why did you leave?! You said you’d never leave! You’d never do what they did to me! You said you’d never hurt me and I fucking believed you!” I let the tears stream down my face, not caring about anything anymore. 

“Please, I’m sorry.” He says, his eyes softening at the sight of my tears and he steps closer. 

“No,” I step back, “No, you lost that. You lost the right to be mad at me, or to console me, you all have. You could’ve been fucking honest and you all chose to lie to me and ignore me.” 

“Dee, come on, we’ve all made mistakes—” 

“You don’t accidentally lie to your friend for weeks. You accidentally spill milk, or touch a hot pan, you don’t— you chose to lie to me, you chose to push me away. That’s not a mistake.” I cut Cal off and I shake my head. 

“I’m gonna go. I’m sorry for ruining your game night.” I tell them, turning around and walking down the porch stairs, I walk over to my car, everything silent except for the heel of my boots hitting the cement. I reach my car, unlocking it and slipping it. My gaze travels to the porch, looking at the people I had grown to love like family and my eyes stop on Ashton. Luke’s arm is around his shoulder, clearly saying something to him and Ashton’s eyes meet mine. My heart breaks at his expression, the truth setting in that I had hurt him the same way he hurt me. 

The thought makes my stomach turn but I don’t have the strength to step out of my car. Instead I open spotify and start playing anything to fill the void. I pull out of the driveway, turning up the volume and trying to silence the deafening thoughts running through my mind. 

~

I’ve been packing for two weeks, and fielding calls from the boys and their management. Well all the boys except one. The one I really want to hear from. The one that would say “stay,” and I would drop everything for. 

Maybe it’s good that I’m leaving. I mean, falling in love with your best friend is a bad idea already and although I wasn’t sure of it before I am now. I loved Ashton, in the most inconvenient way possible, so maybe this space will be good for me.

Or at least that’s what I try to convince myself when I feel empty. When the anxiety and depression wins and I wake up in the middle of the night on the floor— typically the bathroom floor— with an empty stomach and pounding headache.

Then I remember Ashton always being there. Picking me up, taking care of me, loving me in the way I never thought I deserved and the thoughts send me spiraling and walking up on the floor again. 

I finish applying my lipstick, biting back the tears that I know will inevitably be shed by the end of the night, and step away from the mirror. I grab my clutch, checking for my phone, keys and wallet before strapping on my shoes and heading downstairs. 

Everyone had insisted that we had one last night out, a final goodbye and send off before I leave tomorrow morning and I had agreed. I walk out to my car and quickly start the ride to the restaurant. I focus on the music, never giving myself enough time to get lost in my thoughts and I get to the restaurant faster than expected. 

I step out of my car and spot Calum almost immediately. He’s turned around, preoccupied with something and I run up behind him, placing my hands over his eyes and he laughs softly. 

“You’re a child.” He mumbles, spinning around to face me and I drop my arms. 

“You love me.” I tell him with a smile and he opens his arms for a hug. I step into his embrace, squeezing him tightly and he does the same. 

“You look beautiful.” He says, stepping back and I smile softly. 

“Thank you.” I tuck my hair behind my ear, the curls already getting in my way and he smiles sadly. “You wanted to talk before dinner?” I prompt and he nods. 

“Yeah, I have a gift for you and a few things to say.” He says with a smile. “First, I wanted to apologize. I never should’ve lied to you and I shouldn’t have let Ashton. I was so blinded by the thought of protecting my brother that I didn’t think to protect my best friend.” He says and I shake my head.

“It’s okay, I get it, and I don’t blame any of you guys. I seriously don’t.”

“With that being said, I also wanted to congratulate you. I wish you didn’t have to leave but I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself and doing what felt right to you, no matter what. You deserve the world, Dee, but you have to take it.” He says with a soft smile and I wipe at the single tear that’s escaped. 

“This is from us— all of us— to you. No matter what happens, what you do, we’ll always be cheering you on and we will always love you.” He says, pulling a velvet box out of his pocket and handing it to me. I carefully take it, giving him my clutch to hold and opening the box to see a delicate, silver necklace, a beautiful rose hanging off it and I smile warmly. It’s almost an exact replica of Ashton’s tattoo and I don’t know if they did it on purpose, but I want to believe they did. 

I can see Ashton pointing out the necklace with a smile, fully knowing how similar it is to his tattoo and the rest of the group agreeing, simply because of my love of roses. I brush away the invisible tears at the thought, choosing that no matter what the story actually is, that’s what it’ll mean to me.

“Cal,” I whisper softly, looking up to meet his eyes and he smiles despite the tears filling his eyes. 

“You like it?” He asks and I nod.

“I love it.” 

“Here, let me put it on you.” He suggests and I nod. We trade off once again and I spin around, pulling my hair up with one hand and he slips it around my neck. “Done.” He whispers when he clasps it and I let my hair fall. I spin back around with a bright smile and he nods. 

“Thank you.” I tell him, toying with the small rose and he nods.

“It was a group thing but everyone agreed that they’d cry like babies so it was decided that I’d give it to you.” He says with a smile and I giggle. “Ready to head in?” He asks, opening his hand for me to take and I nod slowly.

“I just— is he in there?” I ask him, unsure of what answer I’m hoping for and he slowly shakes his head. 

“Luke, Mike and I all tried to get him to come but he wouldn’t.” He says and I nod slowly. I place my hand in his, giving him a tight squeeze before nodding again, this time with more confidence. 

“Let’s go.” I tell him and he nods. We both walk into the restaurant, being led straight to our table after Calum gave the hostess his name. 

“Dee! You look so good!” Sierra says as soon as she sees me and I embrace her in a tight hug. 

“Thank you.” I whisper, holding her tight and she does the same. After we separate, I go around the table, hugging everyone and finally I sit down. There’s an empty seat at the end of the table— the seat that had been saved for Ashton— and the sight breaks my heart. Every time Michael or Crystal address me I have to fight my hardest to not look at the seat and break out into tears.

Despite the nagging reminder that Ashton isn’t there, dinner is amazing and after bidding my goodbyes, I step outside and feel a few drops of rain. I step back, underneath the overhang provided by the restaurant and Calum appears next to me. With almost impeccable timing a crack of thunder is heard and it starts pouring. 

“How many times is this gonna happen to us?” Calum asks, shrugging off his jacket and lifting it over our heads. 

“I’m starting to think this is just gonna be Our Thing™.” I joke and he laughs loudly. 

“Ready?” He asks and I shake my head. 

“Let me take off my heels.” I tell him and he nods. He offers his arm as stability and I start working my heels off.

“Good idea.” He mumbles. I eventually get both heels off and with my clutch and heels in hand and Calum’s jacket over us we run off into the rain. “Are you gonna get home safe?” Calum asks as we reach my car.

“I’ll be okay.” I tell him and he nods. 

“Text me.” He mumbles quickly as I open my door. He presses a quick kiss to my cheek before running off and I get into my car. I start the ride to my house, driving slower this time because of the rain and finally, in the peace of my own car, I let go and feel the tears falling. 

I couldn’t tell you if I’m crying because I’m leaving or Ashton not showing up. Or maybe it’s because the talk Calum and I had before dinner. Or the fact that I always run when things get difficult. I don’t know what it is, but once the tears start they don’t stop and when I stop in front of my house I don’t bother pulling into the driveway. Instead I keep driving, finding myself heading towards the hills and I calm down at the prospect of fixing everything. 

I just have to be honest. Honest about everything and maybe, even if things aren’t the same, they’ll be better. I just have to tell him the truth. I just have to tell him that I love him.

I run out of my car as soon as it’s in park, sprinting up the unnecessary long path to his front door and I ring the doorbell, feeling a surge of confidence, anxiety and impatience all at once. I fold my arms over my chest, trying my best to warm up but it’s nearly impossible when my dress and hair are absolutely soaked. I try the doorbell again, the confidence waning and anxiety and impatience doubling. 

“C’mon, Irwin. Please.” I mumble under my breath, reaching into my clutch to grab my phone and I quickly dial his number. Unshockingly it goes right to voicemail and I groan loudly. “Irwin, stop being a dick, it’s pouring and I’m freezing.” I mumble, stuffing my phone back in my clutch and ringing the doorbell again. And again, and again, until he finally pulls the door open. 

“I told you I’m not fuckin—” The words die on his tongue when his eyes land on mine. 

“Dee? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at dinner?” He asks, snapping out of his thoughts and I take in the details of his face. The bags under his eyes are more prominent then they’ve probably ever been and my heart breaks at the thought. His eyes look a bit darker, like they always did when he was upset and I shake my head, pulling myself out of those thoughts. 

“I, um, I needed to talk to you.” I tell him and he quirks an eyebrow.

“You didn’t get it all out before?” He bites and I shake my head.

“I’m here to apologize, okay? I’m sorry for whatever I did, I’m sorry for whatever made you hate me and if I could I would go back and fix it all but I can’t. All I can do is apologize and pray to whoever will listen that you won’t hate me for the rest of your life.

“I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard or asked for too much from you. I’m sorry that I was selfish because I was. I took and took and took from you because it was easy, because you made me feel loved and I never felt that before. I’m sorry if I loved too hard or I made things difficult. I’m sorry for every possible thing I did that would have pushed you away. 

“But I’m not sorry for loving you. I’m not sorry for giving you everything I could. I wish things could’ve ended differently but I’m not sorry for falling in love with you. I won’t ever apologize for that, Ashton, because I did, I loved you in the most unconventional way possible and I loved every second of it too.” I tell him, not caring about the tears that escaped and I feel a weight lifted off my shoulders. 

“That’s all I had to say: I’m sorry, and I love you.” I tell him finally happy after weeks of feeling miserable. Happy because I spoke my truth and no matter what happens next, I know I tried and that’ll have to be enough. I spin on the heels of my feet, walking away from his door and almost halfway to my car I feel a tug on my hand. Ashton spins me around, his hands coming up to my cheeks and his lips are on mine. 

Once the shock wears off, my hands cup his cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer as I kiss him back. His tongue runs over my sealed lips and I don’t hesitate to let him in. My hands slip into his hair, tangling into the rain-soaked knots and he slowly pulls away. “Come inside,” He breathes into the air between us and I nod. 

“Okay.” I whisper and he smiles softly. 

“I love you too, darling. I always have.” He whispers and I press my lips to his once more.

[kagehinataboke]

For the prompt thingy do u mind doing tdbk with 48 and 75 🥺✌️ also I’m obsessed with u and your writing I visit your blog daily cause it helps to calm me down reading your fics !! Anyways thank u

ohhh anon, you’re after my fucking heart aren’t you? 🥺💖 this is accidentally a whole ass ride, i’m so invested

tdbk, [48] Fake Dating and [75] Bed Sharing

***

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Todoroki blinks innocently at the question. It wouldn’t be so annoying if he wasn’t… Well, himself. He’s holding a suitcase in one hand and a neck-pillow in the other, with sunglasses pushing his messy bangs up his forehead. He looks like a fucking moron, and he sounds like one when he asks, “What do you mean?”

“I mean why are you here, at my house, looking like that, when I’m about to leave for vacation?” Bakugou tries and fails to keep the irritation out of his voice. It’s hard when he’s dressed like a fucking tourist. Cargo shorts, sunglasses, and a fucking muscle shirt… Really?

“I invited him, of course,” Mitsuki says, appearing from behind them with a cooler in hand. She’s scowling at Bakugou in a ‘be nice and keep your mouth shut’ way. When she looks at Todoroki, her expression changes into a sincere smile. “Shouto is so polite and quiet, and he always brings me flowers when he comes over. I thought it would be nice to invite your boyfriend on our family vacation. Don’t you think, Katsuki?”

Yes, his boyfriend… It’s a long story.

To summarize, Bakugou was hit on by annoying girls one too many times. He was popular among other classes, apparently. They weren’t aware of his personality, is how Round Face phrased it. Whatever. After the fourth consecutive confession in one month, Bakugou decided he’d had enough, and hatched the idiotic idea to pretend to be gay.

Icy Hot wasn’t his first option by a long shot, but circumstances just seemed to work out between them. Now, it’s five weeks into their fake relationship, and Bakugou’s parents are ready to fucking adopt the bastard. And invite him on their family vacation, apparently.

Bakugou can’t even protest, because exposing them to his parents could lead to a snowball effect that will put him right back where he started. “Yeah,” he grumbles forcefully, “it’s the best idea I’ve ever fucking heard.”

“Good!” Mitsuki beams, patting Todoroki on he shoulder on her way to the car. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get going. I want to make it there before lunch.”

While she starts loading the back with Masaru, Todoroki shoots Bakugou a wide-eyed look. “I thought you knew I was coming. I had no idea Mitsuki didn’t tell you.”

“Whatever,” Bakugou grumbles, annoyed that he can’t stay mad at the bastard, even though he really wants to. “Just get in the fucking car already, Half n’ Half.”

Dammit… If they survive this trip, Icy Hot is so dead. And Bakugou’s mom, for secretly inviting him. Then again, he really should’ve seen this coming. Mitsuki loves Todoroki like crazy, for some shitty reason. Sure, he’s polite and thoughtful and kind of perfect, but what does that matter? He’s still annoying as fuck.

Like how he’s resting his head on Bakugou’s shoulder, for instance. How’s he even asleep right now? It’s not that early, and they only left ten minutes ago. This fuckhead. He can’t even push him off, or Mitsuki will blow a gasket.

Bakugou sighs, settling against his window. His shoulder is already falling asleep. It’s weird how Todoroki’s face is annoyingly peaceful when he sleeps. Messy, too, like everything he does. There’s hair in his face that Bakugou instinctively brushes away before he can stop himself.

Fuck, this trip already feels way too long…

***

“Wake up.” A hand rouses Bakugou from his sleep. He opens his eyes to harsh noontime sun, and a head of messy red-and-white against his cheek. Todoroki, who’s still asleep. The hand belongs to Mitsuki, though, and the way she’s looking at them both makes Bakugou’s face go red.

He quickly opens his door to stumble away from Todoroki, who wakes up after smacking face-first into the seat. He trails after Bakugou blearily, nearly stumbling into one of the decorative lampposts outside their hotel. Bakugou has to grab him by the collar to save his face. “Moron. Walk on this side.”

The group of four makes their way into the lobby, where Mitsuki collects two room keys from the front desk. She hands one of them to a still-delirious Todoroki. “This is for your room, dear.” To Bakugou: “I got you boys a separate suite.” Her smug expression is annoying as hell.

“Fine.” Bakugou snatches the key from Todoroki’s hand. “See you later, then.” Jokes on her: he doesn’t mind sharing a room. They’ll still have plenty of space to avoid each other.

Or not. There’s only one bed. Mitsuki has one-upped him yet again. It’s like she’s trying to be a bad influence. Does she want them to fuck? Because that’s certainly how this looks, as creepy as it sounds. Or is it just a room malfunction? Bakugou isn’t about to ask his mom to find out.

“You’re sleeping on the floor,” he says to Todoroki instead—but the idiot isn’t beside him anymore. He’s already on the damn bed, face-first in the pillows and dead asleep. Is he a fucking kid?

Bakugou sighs through his teeth and sets his suitcase in the closet, falling across the unoccupied side of the bed. He glares at Todoroki’s soft features, pissed at himself for wanting to touch them. This damn fabrication has gotten out of hand. It’s messing up his head.

Maybe he should end things. But… it’s strangely hard to think of doing so. Since they strutted ‘going out’ Todoroki has been way less annoying. There are sides of him that were invisible before, like how he gets quiet when he’s really overwhelmed, and how he has a soft spot for animals. Or how he’ll cry sometimes, when he thinks no one is looking. Just a few, silent tears that disappear in seconds.

Fuck, this shouldn’t be so complicated. Bakugou closes his eyes and tries to clear his mind. But in the end, all he can manage to do is fall asleep while still thinking of Todoroki.

***

When Bakugou wakes up, it’s dark. He extends his hand in the blackness, fingertips brushing against cool skin. He stops breathing for a second before he remembers: Todoroki is here, too. Close, here. His soft breath tickles Bakugou’s cheek.

He can somehow see him clearly in the dark. His whole face relaxes in his sleep. Bakugou’s only seen it once before, when he fell asleep while they were studying. In the middle of the night, it’s a much more… private thing. He isn’t sure why he can’t tear his eyes away. Or his hand, which has settled against Todoroki’s face. His skin is crazy soft. His lips, too. They’re thin, but smooth under Bakugou’s thumb. Shit. Has he always looked like this?

Their lips brush, and Bakugou is genuinely shocked. He hadn’t realized he was going to do it—or wanted to. Did he want to? If he didn’t want to, he wouldn’t have done it.

Todoroki shifts, and Bakugou sucks in a breath. But it’s fine: he‘s not waking up, just readjusting. He jerks his hand back to his side and turns away, silently scolding himself. What the fuck was that? He just did that to a sleeping person…

Wait. That’s not the fucking problem here. He kissed Todoroki. Annoying, rude, oblivious, stupid as fuck Todoroki, who he isn’t supposed to like. Or want to kiss again.

Shit. Shit. This isn’t good, especially when they’ll be stuck in the same room—in the same bed—for two whole weeks. Does Bakugou really… No. No way in hell. He’s not going to finish that thought. There’s no sliver of a chance that he has feelings for—

Fuck!

“Bakugou?” Todoroki’s tired grumble scares the everliving shit out of him. “Why are you awake?”

“Nothing,” Bakugou snaps irritably, pushing his stupid pretty face into the mattress. “Go back to sleep.”

Todoroki yawns and rolls over without complaint. He’s passed out again in less than a minute. Moron. He always sleeps like the dead.

Bakugou turns away from him and scoots to the farthest edge of the bed. He can’t slip up like that again.

But why can’t he? They’re in a fake relationship, so if real feelings were to develop, then… As terrifying as it is to think about, not much would change. Things have been changing between them for a while now. Todoroki might feel the same growing tension Bakugou does.

It’s better to test it out. He shouldn’t do anything until he’s sure…

***

“The beach?” Todoroki turns to Bakugou with a skeptical expression. “Why do you suddenly want to go there? I thought you said saltwater was ‘the devil’s sweat’ and you ‘wouldn’t be caught dead’—“

“Shut up. I changed my mind, okay?” Bakugou scowls, forcing down his anxiety. There’s supposed to be fireworks at the beach tonight, so he’s planning to confront Todoroki about their possibly-more-than-friends-or-rivals feelings. Pretty straightforward, he thinks.

“Okay. I’ll go if you really want to.” Todoroki turns back to his suitcase, which he’s been rummaging through for ten minutes now. “…I can’t find any sunscreen. I think I forgot to pack it.”

Bakugou pushes him aside. “You would literally fucking die on your own. Here.” He finds the bottle and passes it over with a roll of the eyes. “It was in plain sight, you moron.”

“Sorry.” Todoroki frowns at the bottle. “I wonder how much I need, though… It’s not really that bright outside.”

How the actual fuck is this idiot bastard still alive? “Give me that.” Bakugou snatches the sunscreen irritably. “Strip and turn around.”

Todoroki obeys complacently, as always. He takes off his shirt and faces the window, giving Bakugou free range of his broad back. His skin is so pale that it’s a surprise he hasn’t gotten sunburned already. Bakugou has been staring at him for several seconds when he remembers what he’s supposed to be doing.

The sunscreen glides over his skin, and Bakugou gets distracted again by the lean muscle of Todoroki’s back and shoulders. It’s not like he hasn’t seen it before, but touching it is an entirely different thing. When Todoroki turns around to face him, it becomes even worse.

Bakugou looks at his bare chest and swallows thickly. This is too much. “Do the front yourself,” he grumbles, shoving the sunscreen into Todoroki’s hands with an angry blush. Fuck, he’s such a weakling.

“But don’t you need some—“

“I’m fine!” Bakugou straightens his shirt collar nervously. No way can he and Todoroki be shirtless in the same room right now. “I’ll put it on later. Just hurry the fuck up so we can go.”

The whole walk to the beach, Bakugou keeps searching himself for signs that this is all in his head. That he’s so used to fake-dating Todoroki that he’s become confused. But no matter how long he dwells on it, he can tell these are genuine feelings. The sappy, fluffy, disgusting, butterflies-in-stomach type of feelings that he despises so much.

He can’t stop watching Todoroki and noticing stupid shit. Like how his eyes reflect the ocean, and how his wet skin glistens in the sunlight, and how the water drips down his— Fuck. The world is doing that slow-motion, movie-moment bullshit. This is a fucking disaster.

“Are you okay?” Todoroki approaches, slicking his wet hair back with one hand. He doesn’t pay any attention to the giggling girls ten feet away who he probably just indirectly impregnated. “You’re not swimming.”

Bakugou is about to preach his hatred of the ocean when he remembers he was the one who suggested they go. “…I’ll come now.”

He pulls off his shirt, fidgeting under Todoroki’s direct gaze. The bastard is terrible at reading people. “Stop fucking staring at me. I’m coming.”

He moves to the water’s edge cautiously. Not that he’s afraid of it: the ocean is just gross. Todoroki passes him to wade right in, pausing to look back at him. He’s got this tiny, strangely soft smile on his face. Fucking unfair.

Bakugou wants nothing more than to follow him when he smiles like that.

***

By the time the fireworks start, Bakugou has forgotten about them for several reasons, the most prominent being the sunburn covering his whole upper body. He forgot to put on fucking sunscreen. Go figure.

The second most prominent is Todoroki, who‘s rubbing aloe on the aforementioned sunburn. He brought some to the beach, prepared asshole. When the fireworks start, he’s just finished applying a second layer.

“Oh, right. There are fireworks.”

Dammit. Nothing is going according to plan. They were supposed to be walking back to the resort, alone, by now. Bakugou glances around frantically for a backup. “Icy Hot, come over here with me for a second.”

“What? Behind this rock? Why? We’ll miss the—”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Bakugou pushes him against the rock and steals his next protest with a kiss.

He had originally planned to talk to him, but this is much more straightforward. Depending on how Todoroki reacts, he’ll know his feelings one way or another. And thank fuck he kissed him instead, because he isn’t being punched. He’s being kissed back. Rather violently.

The fireworks drown out most sound, but Bakugou is sure his heartbeat is loud enough for everyone within a ten-mile radius to hear. He can barely hear himself think. Not that he is thinking right now. How could he with Todoroki’s tongue in his mouth?

Fuck, this is too much. He can’t breathe. But when he tries to pull away, Todoroki’s hands on his shoulders firmly keep him in place. His mouth doesn’t know anything beyond this bliss, but his lungs are cursing the day he was born.

“Wait—“ Bakugou gasps for one, two breaths before Todoroki’s lips are on his again. This plan, he realizes, is quickly starting to backfire. He should’ve factored into consideration that the other party is fucking annoying, and might be as equally pent-up as he is. That’s clearly the situation at hand.

To get back in control, Bakugou catches Todoroki’s bottom lip roughly between his teeth. They stare at each other, struggling to breathe, fireworks exploding in their eyes. For a long time, Bakugou doesn’t know what to say. Then he exhales, and what slips out is a quiet, “Fuck.”

Todoroki licks saliva from his lips, though which of them it belongs to is a mystery. “You kissed me first,” he says, almost defensively.

“Obviously I know that, dipshit.” Bakugou covers his mouth, fighting off a blush. “I didn’t think you’d kiss me back.”

“So… you didn’t want me to kiss you?”

“I… I did…” Bakugou’s face grows warmer. “I just wasn’t expecting it, okay?”

Todoroki grabs him by the shoulders. He’s actually enthusiastic, for once. “Does this mean that you sincerely like me? It does, right?”

“Calm down!” Bakugou presses him back when he gets too close. He didn’t expect it to be so hard to admit out loud. “I… I guess I do…” Todoroki looks like he’s going to kiss him again, so Bakugou puts an arm over his chest. “But hold on a second! We need to fucking talk this out!”

“Oh.” Todoroki seems dejected. “You’re right.” Despite agreeing, he keeps a firm hold on Bakugou’s shoulders, as if struggling to hold himself back. “I was sure this would solve everything. Kissing, I mean.”

“Are you really a moron? There’s so much other shit we have to figure out.” Bakugou can’t help but laugh. This situation is just too ridiculous. “We’ve been pretending to date for months, and now to switch to the real thing? It’s gonna be complicated as fuck.”

“That’s okay.” Todoroki takes his hand and flashes one of his rare, quiet smiles. Quiet in the way that it’s barely a whisper across his face. It’s never looked as breathtaking as it does right now. “As long as it’s you, I don’t mind complicated.”

As much as he wants to call him a moron or push him away, Bakugou lets Todoroki kiss him again. He doesn’t really mind ‘complicated,’ either.

[kumkaniudaku]

BROWN SKIN GIRL: ONE

A/N: Consider this the follow up to The Love Tonight. This sounds very reminiscent to @bribrisback‘s Dance With My Father which is amazingly cute. I promise it wasn’t intentional. It’s my fault for literally take a month to finish one prompt. People tend to beat you to things. Still, I wanted to stick with this. I hope you enjoy part one. 

Little bodies danced in sync to classical music as classes at Tillman Dance Studio neared the end of the first block Saturday session. It was rare that Micah wasn't front and center in her designated age group. Also rare was both of her parents and her younger brother making an appearance to pick her up and whisk the little ball of energy to their scheduled Saturday froyo date. Yet, both of these occurrences came to a head when the Boseman family walked through the door. 

"I wish you would stop," CoCo giggled as Chadwick held the door open for his wife and son, using his free hand to graze across her backside when she passed by.

"Well, aren't you singing a different tune. What changed in an hour?" 

Tasha blushed at the reminder of their earlier activities, but just as she opened her mouth to respond, Noah's yelling caught her attention. 

"Key! Key!"

"You looking for your sister? Point to Mikey!" When the youngest Boseman extended his arm to point in his sister's direction, CoCo was genuinely surprised at what she saw. In a corner, Micah sat with her back against the wall and an odd mix of tear-stained cheeks and an angry disposition. 

"Why is she sitting over there? Who made her cry," Chadwick asked. His body language had shifted from loose, relaxed energy to imposing dominance. "I'm going inside." 

CoCo grabbed his hand to prevent forward progress, "Babe, wait."

"For what? Them to hurt her feelings again? Hell no!"

"Aaron!" 

"Nicole!"

Tasha struggled to reign in her husband's emotions as parents in the immediate area passed around judgemental stares. She offered curt a smile to ward off attention before turning back to Chadwick. 

"I know you're mad," she whisper yelled. "Hell, I'm mad too! But we don't even know what happened yet! Can we at least get the details before we start tearin' shit up?"

Chadwick looked back and forth between his wife and his daughter, who hadn't noticed her parents enter the building like she usually did. He couldn't move past the way she feverishly rubbed at her eyes to stop her tears before drawing her knees up to her chest.

"You promise to let me lead the conversation when get in there," Chadwick asked as he finally turned to face CoCo. 

"I'm in the passenger seat on this one, baby."

Every nerve in his body was set ablaze as Chadwick made the tough decision to tuck away his anger and impatiently wait in the lobby. 

The remaining 15 minutes of instruction felt like 15 hours until, finally, the studio door swung open, and little pupils in blue leotards filed out of the room. Micah trudged behind the group with her head down, following Miss Christy until she reached the threshold of the door. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Boseman, can I speak with you all inside of my office for a moment?"

"We can't talk right here," Chadwick questioned.

Parents craned their necks for information, making the instructor's cheeks turn red with embarrassment. 

"I think you'd much rather have this conversation in private. Trust me; we'll only be a few minutes."

Despite promising to take on the supporting role, Tasha stepped in to agree to Christy's terms on Chadwick's behalf. He instead turned his attention to Micah. She immediately reached out for him when their eyes met. 

"It's okay, Princess. Daddy will fix it, okay?" 

He continued to comfort his first-born during the short and mostly silent walk to the administrative area of the building. Finding safety in her father, Micah maintained a tight grip around his neck as he took a seat. 

A soft drip-drop from the coffee maker across the room provided the only sound, working to push both parents to the highest heights of frustration. 

"What happened?"

Chadwick's cold demand for answers frightened the young woman across from him, though she tried to hide her fear. Tasha's equally cold glare didn't ease any of the tension. 

Folding her hands on the table and clearing her throat, Christy began her explanation. "Today, in class, Micah had an...issue with some of the other girls that turned physical. I recommend a break from the pro-"

"So, someone hit her?"

"No, Mr. Boseman, Micah was the aggressor."

"That's not fair! They were mean!" 

Micah's outburst was uncharacteristic for a child that was almost always mannerable. Chadwick took that as a sign to press for more information. 

"Did you ask what caused the altercation? I'm sure there was a reason."

"Micah says they called her a name, but still, violence is strictly forbidden here. Instructors are available if she wants to report a problem."

"Is bullying against the rules too, or do you make them up as you go," Tasha accused before turning to Micah. "What did they say to you, Mikey?"

The little ballerina fiddled with her thumbs and dropped her head to stare at her feet dangling below her. "Emily said...she said I wasn't pretty like them because my skin is so brown and my hair is frizzy. I'm sorry I pushed her, Mommy. But Ms. Christy wasn't looking, and they weren't nice."

Fearful of whatever punishment was next, Micah continued to avoid eye contact. 

"So when my daughter, the only black child in the age group, was being tormented by a group of girls, were you simply unavailable to step-in or did you not care? I'm curious." 

"Mr. Boseman, I can assure you that we are always watching the girls, bu-"

"Oh, so you saw but didn't care until she had to defend herself. Then, the black child gets in trouble for being the aggressor."

"Are you insinuating that this matter is about race," Christy accused. 

"I'm asking questions. Were you paying attention when Micah was being picked on? Did you ask everyone what happened? Or was she punished while the others were left untouched?"

Christy opened her mouth to speak several times as she looked to CoCo to step in and stop the questioning. 

"You should answer him," she advised. 

"I-I," she stammered, tears threatening to spill. 

"The answer to all of my questions is no, but you don't need to tell me that. You don't need to tell me anything because we're pulling Micah from the program. How should I pay the remaining tuition so that we leave in good standing?"

Chadwick's declaration stunned the other adults in the room, including Tasha. 

"Mr. Boseman, I'm sure we can work something out. Maybe a short break? A meeting between all of the parents?"

"I don't want to meet about a damn thing. I've made a decision. If we need to pay by check, my wife keeps the checkbook. I have my credit card if you'd rather do it that way. But we will not continue to have our child come to a place where she isn't welcome."

There was no room for discussion despite Christy's multiple efforts. Chadwick had made his decision, and it was final. Fifteen minutes and a hefty check later, the family of four walked out of the dance studio Micah had called home for two years. 

After strapping both children into their seats and entering on their respective sides, Tasha smiled at her husband, who was still reeling from the moments prior.

"Where to next, Captain?" 

He thought for a moment, looking in the rearview to find Micah looking back at him. "You still want froyo, Princess?" Her bright smile instantly lifted the mood and alleviated the tension held hostage in his shoulders. Looking back at Tasha, he returned her smile and started the car. 

"Pinkberry it is." 

Frozen yogurt was a quick fix to the issue, but there was still a bleeding wound beneath the bandage. 

As Tasha helped Micah choose her outfits for the upcoming school week, Micah silently ambled around the room. She hadn't said much outside of alerting her parents when she was hungry or ready to play by herself. Instead of pressuring Micah to talk, she was allowed to sort through whatever was in her mind until she was prepared to share. 

"Mommy." 

"Yes, sweetheart?" 

"Am I ugly because I'm brown?" 

The hangers in Micah's closet roughly collided as CoCo lost focus and dropped the dress in her hand. Tasha whipped her head around, her eyes softening when she found her daughter sitting with her knees to her chest. 

"Of course not. You're beautiful." 

"Well, how come they said I was? I just wanted to be friends, and they were mean. What did I do?" 

CoCo could feel her heart and mind going through a range of emotions. On the one hand, she was upset to the point of rage. Someone had destroyed all of the self-esteem they had instilled from the day she was born in one day. On the other hand, she had to fight the urge to cry to stay strong for Micah. 

Placing the dress across a chair in the corner, Tasha moved to sit next to her daughter and pull her into a hug. 

"Sometimes, people are going to be mean to you because you look different than they do, and it's gonna suck. It might even make you wanna cry. But it's because they aren't taught better at home, not because you aren't pretty or smart or anything else. Do you understand?"

"No," Micah muttered before snuggling closer to her mother. "I want friends that like me, Mommy. And I wanna dance too."

"You'll have friends, baby. They'll be the bestest friends you could ever have, not those mean girls that make fun of you."

Even though she acknowledged Tasha's statement with a head nod, Micah was still hurting. And her hurting was automatically transferred and magnified in her mother. She and Chadwick always knew that their kids would face these issues in their environment. But this situation felt like a punch to the ribs. 

When Tasha finally trudged back into the master bedroom, she found her husband silently pacing around the room while scrolling through webpages on his iPad. 

"How'd it go," Chadwick asked without looking away from his device. 

Taking a seat on the chaise near their bed, CoCo kicked off her house slippers and sighed. "She thinks she's ugly because she's brown and I did a shitty job of explaining that people are terrible. So, that's how it went." 

"You told her she's beautiful, though, right? She knows that it's because she looks different than the people in her class." 

"Baby, a six-year-old just wants friends that aren't mean. And, if we're completely honest right now, telling her that only non-black people will dislike her for her skin is a lie. Some of us are going to give her the same shit." The weight of knowing they were only at the tip of the racism and colorism iceberg made Tasha's stomach turn with an uneasy feeling. 

Sighing, Chadwick took in CoCo's words as he placed his tablet on the bed and motioned for her to slide over in the chair. 

"Raising kids is tough work," he spoke, the words coming out in a rush of air. 

"Hell yeah, it is. I feel...powerless." 

"We are doing the best we can given the circumstances. Especially you," Chadwick encouraged while pulling CoCo closer to his side. "What we can do is continue affirming Micah in every way and putting her in spaces where she doesn't have to feel so different." 

"So, we're moving to Wakanda?" 

"Absolutely. Let's pack our shit." The pair shared light laughter despite the issue at hand. When the moment passed, silence began to sit over the room as they both settled into their thoughts to come up with a good solution. "Can I show you something?" 

Tasha nodded while her eyes curiously followed her husband's movements to the bed and back with his tablet. 

"I know you usually take the lead on this stuff, but I would love to see Mikey do something like this. The program director is nice, their reputation is stellar, and the students that give it their all tend to succeed." 

Colors from the various pictures and videos that filled the screen danced across CoCo's face as she examined the website. Chadwick apprehensively watched her face while she browsed to gauge his wife's reaction. He couldn't decide if his efforts were appreciated until Tasha's poker face warmed into a bright smile. 

"This is amazing, baby! How soon can we sign her up?" 

"Surprise, she's already signed up. Her first day is next weekend." 

Tasha's grin continued to spread across her face as Chadwick smiled back at her like a child and made jazz hands for dramatic effect, "I should've known Dad would come to the rescue." 

"We're a team, baby," he correct, kissing her forehead. "But you're gonna need to step back when we go teach baby girl these dance moves. I can't have you confusing my baby with your two left feet." 

Chadwick skillfully dodged a pillow flying through the air as retaliation for his dig at CoCo's dancing skills before sliding out of the room to give Micah some much-needed attention. 

---------

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[chloebeale]

"friends don't" by Maddie & Tae is a big bechloe song,,, if you ever felt like writing a fic inspired by it i wouldnt be mad (it is country tho)

Thank you for the prompt! | ao3 link.

RATING: G so far | WORDS: 2,921

“And that, my fellow graduates, is why we are not going to look at this as a final goodbye, because it will never really be a goodbye. We are Bellas for life, even after we hand over those keys and go our separate ways. You are my friends, my sisters, my Bellas. You’re my family.”

As Aubrey raises her glass, her emotions written plain as day all over her perfectly made up face, Beca can’t help but at least want to roll her eyes. Mostly because that seems easier than letting the tears currently welling up in them spill over her lids. Beca doesn’t cry. She just doesn’t.

“You tearing up there, babe?”

Apparently, her boyfriend knows her better than that.

The familiar feeling of short stubble scratches at the side of her face as Jesse whispers softly in her ear, his lips pressing soothingly against her pale skin.

Beca shoots him a playful glare as she turns her face toward him, neither shaking nor nodding her head. The way her blue-gray eyes are glistening is answer enough for the both of them.

“It’s okay,” Jesse soothes reassuringly, his fingers raising to twirl delicately through the ends of Beca’s neatly curled hair. She feels his rough skin, calloused from the strings of his guitar, brush against her bare shoulder, the feeling almost comfortably familiar.

College isn’t the only thing Beca will be saying goodbye to now that graduation has arrived. She’s headed out to LA soon, while Jesse has just landed himself his dream job scoring low-budget movies out in Maine, of all places. They will literally be at other ends of the country. But they’ll make it work. They’re strong enough, Beca thinks.

No, she knows it. They’re strong enough.

“Can you stop?”

The same cannot be said for every couple, of course.

The voice breaking into her thoughts, into the way she’s gazing at her boyfriend, is even more familiar than his. It’s hushed, though not quite enough, and Beca knows that it’s the start of a fight. Maybe a continued one from earlier, in fact. She doesn’t want to stare, but she finds herself glancing over in the redhead’s direction, just in time to see Kyle rising from his seat, with Chloe’s hand reaching for his.

“Kyle, seriously,” Chloe hisses, pushing herself upright now, too.

This isn’t anything out of the ordinary. Especially as of late. In Beca’s opinion, Chloe and her boyfriend have never really had the most functional relationship. They both have big personalities, they butt heads a lot. There’s a lot of love there, too. But it’s not enough, at least not as far as Beca can tell. Chloe deserves more than him. Chloe deserves the world. If you were to ask Beca, anyway.

Like Beca and Jesse, Chloe and Kyle will be parting ways soon, both having landed jobs in different places. Why Kyle even went to college is kind of lost on Beca, considering he’s going to be working for his family business. She’s sure he would’ve been handed the position regardless of a degree. But whatever, it’s not her place to question it.

It’s probably not her place to keep as close an eye on Chloe as she currently is, but she just hates to think of her suffering in any way, and Beca knows the way Chloe suffers when it comes to Kyle. There’s such a thing as too pure, as loving too wholeheartedly, and that’s Chloe. When she cares about someone or something, she cares with everything in her, and that can make her vulnerable. Kyle would never hurt her, at least not physically. But he just… He doesn’t get Chloe Beale, not the way Beca does. No one does, in fact. Beca is sure of that.

“Hey, Bec, you need another drink?” Jesse asks, his voice interrupting her thoughts once more.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

Beca returns the chaste kiss to her lips, tilting her not-yet-empty cup away from Jesse’s view. She doesn’t need a drink, but Chloe needs her.

It either wasn’t much of a fight, or they’ve just become so skilled at it that they can get everything out there within mere minutes, because Kyle is storming back toward the table already. This time, Chloe isn’t trailing along behind him.

And that’s Beca’s cue to leave.

“Tell Jesse I’ll be right back, okay?” She whispers to Amy, before rising from her seat.

It doesn’t take her too long to find Chloe. And not just because she knows the Bellas house like the back of her hand after three years of living there.

Everyone is congregated outside, enjoying the graduation party. Chloe, on the other hand, is now sitting on one of the couches alone, the faint sound of quiet sobs ringing through the air as Beca enters. Unfortunately, it’s a familiar sound, one that Beca hates. One that she always wishes she could stop.

The floorboard creaks, the same one that always creaks. Normally, Beca is pretty good at avoiding it, but her mind is currently a little preoccupied. The sound causes Chloe to pause.

“It’s just me,” Beca says in a soft voice, gaze meeting Chloe’s. She hates that those blue eyes – her favorite blue eyes – are glazed over with tears, and despite the fact that she tries not to look too sympathetic (she knows Chloe, she knows she doesn’t want pity), she can’t help it. Her expression is soft, her faint smile almost apologetic.

“Oh,” Chloe whispers, returning that same small, barely there smile. “Hey. I’m okay.”

“I know you are,” Beca nods, her footing almost cautious as she makes her way over to the couch, too. Chloe doesn’t fight her, and instead just scoots over a little bit, making room for Beca to perch down beside her.

There’s a short moment of silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. Beca doesn’t want to intrude, she just wants Chloe to know she’s there. If she wants to talk, she’s there.

Their silence lingers, and soon it’s broken by the soft sound of Chloe’s quiet sobs all over again.

“It was some speech, huh?” Beca finally says. Of course, she knows Aubrey’s whole heartfelt spiel has a whole load of nothing to do with Chloe’s tears. Sure, it was sweet, and it really did tug at the heartstrings, but it brought up happy memories, and with it happy tears. Chloe’s tears are not happy ones, though. Far from it.

“Yeah,” Chloe laughs quietly, though her expression soon twists back into that same one from before. The one where there’s absolutely nothing funny. “God,” she whispers, lifting a hand to swipe away a fallen tear with the pad of her finger, “He’s just… I just wanted this one night, you know? No fighting. Just this one night.”

Beca doesn’t even think about it as she shuffles slightly closer to the other girl, though it’s with a certain hint of caution that she reaches out a hand to rest comfortingly on top of Chloe’s. The redhead’s fingers, nails perfectly manicured, lace through Beca’s, and it’s clear neither are planning on letting go.

“You know that he’s just scared, right?” Beca says, sucking in her bottom lip as she eyes her friend. “Of leaving you. It’s overwhelming, you know? He doesn’t want to leave you.”

She sees the way Chloe rolls her eyes, free hand rising to brush away a new tear. “He has a weird way of showing it.”

There’s no response for that, mostly because Chloe is right. And a part of her gets it, because she wouldn’t want to leave Chloe, either. Fortunately for her, the redhead is headed out to California, too. Not LA, but at least they’ll be in the same state. They’ll see each other.

And thank God, too. Because Beca can’t even imagine life without Chloe Beale in it now. Without any of the Bellas, in fact. But Chloe especially. There’s something different about her, about the relationship the two of them have. It’s a bond Beca can’t quite explain. All she knows is that, as gray eyes lock with blue, she doesn’t really need any words. She just… Looks. And Chloe does the same in return, until Beca notices her tears have slowed.

Beca doesn’t know how much time passes before she sees the way Chloe’s lip twitches slightly up at the corner. It’s a small smile, but it’s a smile nonetheless.

“Okay?” Beca whispers, her fingers squeezing gently onto Chloe’s.

She sees the redhead nod her head, before whispering in return. “Okay. Thank you.”

Chloe has calmed down now. She isn’t crying anymore. Her eyes are still red, small particles of mascara dotted beneath them, but she’s done crying, and that’s a start. Still, neither one lets go of the other’s hand.

“Chloe?”

The voice causes both girls to snap their heads over in the direction of the door, just in time to see Kyle emerging from around the corner. He seems to have calmed down now, too.

Kyle has a charming smile. Annoyingly charming, in fact. He uses it as his get out of jail free card, and it works with most people. Beca isn’t most people, though, and the pointed glare she shoots his way isn’t about to vanish at the sight of those perfect pearly whites.

The same apparently cannot be said for Chloe.

“Hey. Yeah,” she nods, finally pulling her hand away from Beca’s, though the brunette notices a slight squeeze before her grasp releases. It speaks the words they don’t necessarily need to verbalize.

Chloe rises from the couch, tucking a chunk of red hair behind her ear. “What’s up?”

Beca isn’t needed anymore. Though she doesn’t move, not yet. Not until she’s sure Chloe is okay. She catches the sight of those blue eyes, and they soften as they lock with her own.

“Uh, Beca. Can you give us a minute?” Kyle says. Beca wants to refuse, to say that she’s fine right here, but she knows this isn’t her fight. She knows that, as much as she wants to protect Chloe, Chloe is a big girl, she can take care of herself. So, instead, the brunette rises now, too, her focus on Kyle as she exits the room.

Jesse is already sitting at the table once she returns, a fresh drink waiting for her.

“Everything okay?” He asks as Beca takes her seat, his arm draping coolly across the back of the chair.

“Yeah, it’s good. Just, you know, the usual,” she shrugs, offering her boyfriend a look, one that he returns. It’s their regular ‘Chloe and Kyle drama’ exchange, and neither needs to say anything more.

—

Beca has never been the biggest party animal. She enjoys a drink every now and then, she likes to hang out and dance with her friends, but she’s never the one to stay until the very end. So, when she and Jesse take off around ten, it’s nothing out of the ordinary, and it seems that Chloe and Kyle are doing much better, too. They’re sitting beside one another, their hands laced, Chloe giggling at some joke Beca hadn’t heard. Harmony is restored, it would seem.

For now, anyway.

There was enough food at the party that there’s no need to stop for anything on the way home, and soon Beca is comfortably inside she and Jesse’s hotel room and peeling off the short, figure hugging black dress she’d worn for the occasion. It’s not her usual style, but she’d felt pretty great in it. Apparently, she isn’t the only one to have thought so.

“You looked really good tonight, Bec,” Jesse’s voice sounds softly in her ear, his hands settling delicately against her now bare waist. The familiar feeling of his parted lips pressing to the soft skin of her shoulder causes a knowing smirk to rise to her own.

“Oh yeah?” Stepping out of her dress, she turns in Jesse’s arms, her own lifting to snake around his neck. “How good?”

His lips are brushing against her own this time, black polished nails sliding through the back of his hair. “Really good.”

When they make love, it’s not Jesse that’s on her mind. And Beca knows that it should be, but it isn’t.

It’s Jesse less and less lately, in fact.

—

Beca doesn’t know what time they fall asleep, though there are clothes strewn all over the floor of their suite, and she and Jesse have made it to the bed. There’s a sound she recognizes, of him snoring softly close to her ear. It isn’t annoying, it’s just… Jesse. It’s Jesse. And it isn’t what pulls her back to consciousness.

The sound of her phone vibrating on the bedside table beside her is what catches her attention, and though it causes Jesse to stir, it doesn’t wake him. Beca blinks into the darkness, blindly reaching out a hand to fumble for the phone. Her plan is to silence it, to set it back down and go back to sleep, curled up against her boyfriend, but then she sees the name up on the screen.

Chloe Beale. That lame little sunflower emoji beside it, the one Chloe had insisted Beca use when saving her contact. Her gaze drifts to the time. Three-seventeen. She stares for only a moment longer, almost like she’s trying to register what’s going on, before pushing herself up from the bed. The sound of Jesse’s snoring intensifies, and it’s clear he isn’t waking up anytime soon.

Beca taps the answer call button on her screen as she tiptoes quietly from the bedroom and out into the suite’s main living area.

“Chloe, hey. It’s after three… Are you okay?” She whispers into the handset, gently closing the bedroom door behind her. She can hear the sound of Chloe sniffling at the other end of the phone, it’s a sound that breaks her heart. She hates how familiar it is.

“Hey,” Beca’s voice is soft as she makes her way over to the couch, slowly sitting herself down on it. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s me, Chlo. What’s going on?”

There’s a small silence, followed by the strained sound of Chloe’s whispered words. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Beca.”

“Do what?” She asks, though she’s sure she knows the answer already. The room is silent save for the sound in her ear, the sound of Chloe’s quiet sobs and soft whimpers. It’s answer enough for her.

“It’s okay,” Beca soothes, leaning back against the large couch. The cushions are soft enough that she sinks down comfortably into them, though the way her heart is racing would suggest she’d just been running a whole marathon. Chloe still hasn’t responded. “Did something happen?”

Another sniffle sounds. “No. He just…” The redhead cuts herself off, and Beca can hear rustling at the other end of the phone. She’s sure Chloe is wiping under her eyes, though she knows there’s really no point; she isn’t done crying yet. She wishes she was, but she isn’t.

When Kyle’s around, it seems like she never will be, in fact.

“Bec?” Chloe’s voice interrupts her inner monolog, and she finds herself nodding despite the fact that the other girl can’t see her.

“I’m here, Chlo. What is it?”

“Can you stay with me?”

There’s a brief pause as Beca digests the question, mulling it over for a second or two. It seems Chloe can sense her confusion.

“Like, here. On the phone. Just until I fall asleep.”

There’s something almost calming about the request, and Beca knows that it’s almost selfish of her to feel that way. She isn’t the one struggling right now. Chloe is. But Beca just hates to hear it, she hates to know that her friend is feeling the way she currently is. This way, she can be there for her, though. And maybe for now, that’s enough.

“Yeah, of course,” she finally whispers, head nodding once more. Beca lifts her feet to curl her legs up underneath her. There are no words flowing through the phone, just the sound of Chloe’s breathing, of what sounds like her tears slowing. “Uh, should I–”

Chloe cuts her off. “No, it’s okay. Don’t talk.” Her voice is hushed now, almost as if she’s beginning to fall asleep already. “Just stay with me.”

Once more, Beca finds herself nodding her head into the darkness, phone held firmly against her ear as she tilts her head back into the couch cushion.

Who falls asleep first, Beca doesn’t know, though in reality it’s probably Chloe. The sun is beginning to peak through the open drapes once Beca wakes again, though, this time to the sound of Jesse’s voice. He sounds a little confused, almost concerned.

“Bec?” He questions, approaching her with caution. “Hey, is everything okay? What are you doing out here?”

It takes Beca a moment of blinking to remember what she’s doing here, how she got here. Whyshe got here.

“What time is it?” She mumbles, glancing up at her boyfriend.

“Just before six. Come on,” Jesse pauses, holding out his hand to take hers. Beca accepts it, her fingers lacing lazily through his as he pulls her up from the couch. “Let’s go back to bed.”

She’s still half asleep, still a little confused by her surroundings, so Beca just nods her head, allowing Jesse to guide her back through to the bedroom.

Her phone is wedged between two of the couch cushions, the active call with Chloe Beale still displayed on the screen.

Continue?