#WH Chapter 14

[stromuprisahat]

‘... Before you leave this house, I must exact a promise from you that you’ll get me an interview with her: consent, or refuse, I will see her! What do you say?’ ‘I say, Mr. Heathcliff,’ I replied, ‘you must not: you never shall, through my means. Another encounter between you and the master would kill her altogether.’ ‘With your aid that may be avoided,’ he continued; ‘and should there be danger of such an event—should he be the cause of adding a single trouble more to her existence—why, I think I shall be justified in going to extremes! I wish you had sincerity enough to tell me whether Catherine would suffer greatly from his loss: the fear that she would restrains me. And there you see the distinction between our feelings: had he been in my place, and I in his, though I hated him with a hatred that turned my life to gall, I never would have raised a hand against him. You may look incredulous, if you please! I never would have banished him from her society as long as she desired his. The moment her regard ceased, I would have torn his heart out, and drunk his blood! But, till then—if you don’t believe me, you don’t know me—till then, I would have died by inches before I touched a single hair of his head!’

Heathcliff × Ellen ‘Nelly’ Dean; Wuthering Heights- Chapter 14 (Emily Brontë)

[jedi-luca]

Avenger Lane Chapter 14: All My Lovin’

Summary: You and your wife Quinn move your family outside of New York City to Avenger Lane; a small private suburbia. There you face your toughest obstacle of your marriage. Will your marriage with Quinn be strong enough when a certain redheaded beauty captures your attention? 

Parings: Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader

Warnings: Reader has a Penis

Previous Chapter

The following Monday you were taking Beth and the other kids to school for the weekly carpool when you came home to Quinn leaning against the counter.

“Y/N we need to talk.”

You nodded, setting your keys down. Before sitting at the table.

“I know I’ve made some horrible decisions, but I love you more than anything- besides our daughters of course… I don’t want a divorce, I want to work through this. Maybe find a couples counselor-“

“Quinn no-“

“Y/N I’m begging you to give us another chance.”

“This was our second chance! You wanted to work on your jealousy issues. So you moved us out of the city work an hour less everyday-“

“Y/N please. I’m being fair here.”

“Fair?! Are you fucking kidding me? Fair? You and your witch of a mother stole my chance at a full ride, and you cheated on me with Berry for God knows how long! Let’s not forget you acting like you were pregnant when your tubes were tied!”

“Like I said I made some horrible decisions but-“

“But what? This marriage is over. I’m going to move out, get my own place, take the job Tony offered me and we are divorcing. I do not want to be with you Quinn! The very thought of me still being with you sickens me!”

“Y/N I didn’t want to do this-“

“Do what?”

The doorbell rang and Quinn looked away as you made your way to the door.

“Quinn it’s your assistant-“

“I’m so sorry about this Y/N-“ the assistant handed you a document. “You’ve… been served.”

“What?!” Your neck nearly snapped looking over at Quinn as her assistant ran away. “You’re fucking serving me?!”

“It’s the only way! I need another chance-“

“So in order to get that you’re serving me?!”

“Y/N-“

“Get the fuck out of my face. I hate you!” You breathe out angrily.

“Y/n-“

“LEAVE QUINN!”

She nodded and quickly ran up to her study..

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“Quinnie, are you sure about this? Do you really think it’s wise to listen to mom? I mean she’s a big part of the reason you’re in this shit.” Frannie asked as she helped her sister make the guest bed in her home.

“I won’t lose Y/N.”

“Why would you wanna hurt them more by doing this? Y/N made it clear they want a divorce. You have done too much damage. Please for the kids sake just let Y/N have the divorce and go back to the city.”

“No! What do you not get!? Y/N is mine! I will not lose them!” Quinn shouted.

“Don’t shout… your niece is asleep in the other room.” Frannie grit. “You’re making a mistake.” 

“Frannie.” Quinn sighed, rubbing her head.

“Y/N said they hate you… hate. Quinn, that's the word they used. Y/N wants a divorce they do not want to be with you any longer.”

“They didn’t mean it. They were just angry.”

“Y/N wouldn’t just throw that word around. If you truly loved Y/N you would take your losses and leave before this gets uglier.”

“I can’t.” Quinn cried sitting down as Franny held her.

“If you love someone but they don’t love you then you’ve gotta let them go.”

Frannie knows Quinn has the worst parts of their parents. A pure evil mix of envy and bullheadedness. She knows her little sister will always stand in her own way through life. Especially now.

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A couple weeks later

Natasha could feel the bile rise in her throat seeing Quinn walk in with you.

“Natty!” Fin squealed, running straight to her.

“Hi sweetheart!” Natasha smiled lovingly at your daughter lifting her up in her arms.

“I misded you!” Finley squeezed her neck.

“I missed you too; so much.” Natasha cooed, rubbing her back softly. She leaned back a bit to get Finley’s attention.

“Are you excited to learn more today?”

“Yes!” She beamed.

“Good, why don’t you go ahead and put your shoes on.”

“Okay!” She cheered as Natasha set her back down. You let Quinn help her with her ballet shoes and walked towards the redhead.

“Hi.” You gulped.

“You’re- you’re back with her?” She asked folding her arms, her jaw clenching and unclenching. 

“No, God no… the judge said we needed to go through couples counseling. I wouldn’t say we’re back together. We just have to do this for bit and then I can legally divorce her.”

Natasha nodded, as she briefly looked down.

“I uh…made you this.” You handed Natasha a present.

She smiled while taking it from your hand.

“It’s just a frame I thought maybe you could commemorate your first class.”

She nodded looking at the wooden frame. She traced the words on the frame and looked up. “You made this?”

“Hmhm.”

“Thank you, Y/N, it’s beautiful.”

“You’re welcome.”

Her eyes are piecing and you can’t help but waiver beneath her gaze.

“I should; let you get to it then.”

“I miss you.” She said softly.

“I miss you too, so much.” You reply.

“You haven’t called me or texted me I thought you said we could keep talking at the very least.”

“I know I’m sorry I’ve been really struggling lately. She’s fucking draining me Nat.” Your voice wavered. 

“I’m here for you, Y/N-“ the redhead began until she was interrupted.

“Natasha?” Quinn interrupts as she steps beside you.

“Yes?” She asks with a heavy gulp.

“I just wanted to apologize for my behavior. You did not deserve that whatsoever. I understand if you hate me, but I just need you to know that, and to know how grateful I am for this class for Fin. I can’t wait to see her in the recital!”

Natasha nodded, crossing her arms.

“Hey sis!” Yelena walked up knowing her sister needed an and out as she pulled her close.

“Hey Yelena.” You smile stiffly feeling wildly uncomfortable.

“Y/N, good to see ya.” She smiles. “This must be the Cyka, I’ve been hearing all about. You’ve got a lot of gall coming in here.”

Quinn gaped, not understanding what was going on.

“We better get going.” You say nudging Quinn knowing she had about 5 seconds to get the hell out of there before the young blonde kicked her ass.

“Thanks again Nat.” You say and she nods in response.

“I know that hurt but you gotta be strong.” Yelena turns to her sister. Natasha nods and Yelena takes the bag from her and gives her a big bear hug before letting go.

Natasha clears her throat and chuckles seeing Finley dancing with the other kids.

“Okay class, who's ready to learn?!” Natasha beams.

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You waited patiently as the toddlers in the class said goodbye to Natasha leaving with their parents.

“Papa!” Finley beamed up as Yelena helped her take her ballerina shoes off. 

“Hey bubs, did you have fun?” You grin and she nods excitedly.

Natasha was trying to clean up when you began helping her.

“Thanks.” She said as you both finished up.

“Anytime.” You reply.

Yelena smirks as her sister just stares at you waiting to speak.

You looked away from Natasha’s captivating eyes before speaking. “Can we talk for a minute?”

She nods and you both walk to another empty room that seems to be the break room.

“I’m sorry about Quinn, she just really wanted to apologize. I told her don’t hold your breath.”

Natasha nodded slightly upset again. “Why Y/N?”

“I don’t know she’s seeing a psychiatrist now and-“

“No, why are you still with her? She’s hurt you in so many ways and you’re with her?”

“It’s not like that, I know it looks like, but if I don’t go to couples therapy I will lose the girls. Besides, it's court ordered.”

“She seriously took you to court?”

“Jen, did the best she could do but since Quinn’s father has political ties he managed to get the judge in her favor.”

“I thought you said she doesn’t talk to him?”

“I thought so too, I guess she’s more like her father than I give her credit for.”

“Did you tell your parents yet?”

“No.” You sighed. “I don’t want them to worry or get upset.”

“You need to tell them Y/N.” She raised her brow.

“I know.” You nod.

“How many appointments do you have left?”

“I’m not even half way yet.” You sighed.

She nodded sadly.

“But I’ve been working for Tony and he told me he might be able to help me out with the court as well.” You grin when you see her smile. “Quinn’s working from home now she’s taking care of the girls full time. So you’re looking at a working stiff now.”

“That’s really great Y/N.” She nods, still smiling.

“God, I miss you.” You can’t help but say and her smile fades.

“I miss you too. A lot.” She says sadly. “This is harder than I thought… being away from you.”

You caress her cheek and her green eyes flutter. You lean down kissing her softly. Natasha knows she shouldn’t kiss you back but she’s missed you and she can’t help but pull you in letting the kiss deepen.

You find the strength to not let it go further and respect her boundaries. Your foreheads stay touching as you both cool down and you can feel her breath against your skin.

“I’m leaving for Japan soon with Tony for a few days and then we’re back in NYC.”

“Wow. I haven’t been to Japan in a long time.” She chuckled.

“I’d beg you to come with me but I know… you’ve got the studio and well I’ve got my mess.” You smile sadly and she hugs you tightly. “Do you want anything from there?”

“I’ll send you a list.” She says making you laugh.

“Alright.” You kiss the top of her head.

“So I won’t be seeing you these next few lessons with Finley?”

“No… but don’t worry I asked Wanda if she could bring Fin and of course she said yes.”

“Thank you.” She replied.

“Of course.”

“If everything goes to plan the recital will be right before Thanksgiving. You’ll be there right?” 

“Front and center.” You grin.

She leans up kissing you once more. “Come on.” She sighs against your lips.

You both walk back to her studio.

“Hey Y/N we’re all having Thanksgiving at the Barton’s if you wanna join?” Yelena grinned as Finley climbed on her thighs.

“We’re actually going back to Lima for Thanksgiving. We usually have Finn’s memorial around the same time.”

“Papa, can Lena and Natty come with us to visit popo and GG?”

“I would love to, Finny, but Natty and I have to stay here.”

“Awwww.” Finley sighed sadly.

“But we’ll see each other when you get back.” Lena smiled. “Plus you’re not even leaving yet but we still have lots and lots of practicing to do.”

“Oh well when I do get back will you take me to the slide?” Finley giggled as she spun around with Yelenas help.

“Yes bug we will go to the slide.” Yelena smiles.

“And the swings?” 

“And the swings.” 

“Then ice cream?” 

“It’ll be too cold for ice cream, are you crazy?” Yelena chuckled, lifting up your giggle monster. “What are you Russian?”

“I think I’ve been traded for a younger Romanoff model.” Natasha chuckled.

“Nah, that’s not true. Right Fin? You love Natty?”

“I love Natttty!” She yelled giggling as Yelena tickled her as she tried to run to Natasha.

Natasha lifted her up holding her tight. “I love you too Finny.”

“Muah!” Your toddler leaned back kissing Natasha on the cheek. “You’re my favorite Natty.” Fin whispered in her ear.

Natasha felt her heart warm as she whispered back. “You’re mine too.”

“It’s time to go kiddo.”

“Awwww, I don wanna leave Natty.”

“I know you don’t.” You say as you take her from Natasha’s arms. “Trust me I don't want to either.” you mutter low enough for Natasha to hear.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Fin.” the redhead smiles lovingly.

“Oookay.” She sighed holding Natasha’s fingers. “Bye Lena, love you!” She said from your arms.

“Bye bug, love you, I'll see you at the same time tomorrow.” Yelena smiled.

“I meant what I said we’re going to happen, Nat. I promise you.” You say softly as you hold her hand that holds your daughters.

She nods giving you an unspoken look that you just know means she really wants to kiss you. So instead you lean down and kiss her cheek. She nods, kissing your cheek in return as well as Fin’s who giggles in response.

“I’ll see you again soon. Bye Lena.” 

“Bye Y/N.”

With that you walked out with Finley in your arms.

“You okay?” 

“I don’t know, maybe? I’d be better if Y/N wasn’t around that wretched woman and was with me instead.”

“It’ll happen. I just know it.”

“How?” Natasha deflated against her sister.

“Because of the way Y/N looks at you. Like you’re the sun after a thunderstorm. Come on, let's close up get some bad take out and binge watch something funny like Parks and Rec.”

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It’s been a few days since you left for Japan. When you sent Natasha a text.

She giggled at a video of you racing Tony on a Mario Kart.

You sent her videos of you trying foods and grabbing everything off her list that she wanted. Texts of your days and how much you miss her.

She spent her days thinking about you and in the studio with her pupils. That’s it, days passed by in heartache by not having you there, but you always checked in. You always told her the same thing. 

‘I miss you.’ 

God did she miss you too. The only thing she had of you was your hoodie and being able to see your daughter in every lesson. She counted down the days until the recital when she could see you again.

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As for you, your days were stressful. It was definitely a struggle trying to be a parent and work a full time job. You loved your work though it was the only thing that made your days better besides your kids. It keeps your mind occupied.

The couples therapy turned into individual therapy sessions. 

“So Y/N, how has the week been since the last time I had you and Quinn in?”

“I’m in love with Natasha.” You say bluntly.

“The neighbor that’s become a close friend? The one Quinn is afraid of?”

You nodded.

“Well, tell me more. How long have you had these feelings?”

“I think I’ve had them for a while now but I didn’t notice until we’ve been apart. I’ve been with Quinn since high school. I never cheated, not once. I’ve had women fall for me, and I never felt anything for them.”

“Until now.”

“Until now.” You nod in agreement.

“Do you even love Quinn anymore?”

You sighed, rubbing your head. 

“Remember our conversations stay between us. I do not discuss anything with Quinn and vice versa. Now think about that question again and tell me how you feel.”

“I don’t love her anymore. She’s ruined all the trust I had in her. I thought maybe if I just-“ you began tearing up trying not to let your voice crack. “I just thought that if I tried, maybe I could love her again, especially for the girls, but I can’t do it anymore. I’m starting to hate her and resent her and I don’t want to feel that way for the mother of my children.”

“That’s completely understandable Y/N. Thank you for sharing. I know that was hard.” She said handing you the tissue box.

“Now tell me how Natasha makes you feel.”

“She makes me happy, and I don’t feel like I’m ever walking on eggshells with her. She’s been there for me through everything.”

“Are you having an affair with her?”

“No, we agreed we’d wait for my divorce.”

“So she does feel the same way?”

You looked your therapist in the eyes before nodding. “Yes”

“Does she know you love her?”

“I haven’t told her.”

“Why haven’t you?”

“I’m kind of scared.”

“Why's that? You and Quinn seem to be done. You may need a divorce or separation which leaves you single.”

“She makes me want to go out and buy her a ring, and I’m in the middle of a divorce.”

“It’s always scary when feelings develop. Especially in the middle of separation or divorce.”

“I know she’d never hurt me, but it’s still daunting.” 

“Who? Natasha?”

You nod fiddling with your hands. “She just radiates love and kindness. I’d trust her with my life and with my daughters' lives.”

“Have you two kept in contact?” Agatha asks.

“We have but just through texts really. Work and the kids have been keeping me pretty busy.”

“Right, Quinn is staying home with the kids now.”

“Yes.”

“How has that been?” 

“Good I think.”

“Is that what she tells you?”

“We don’t really talk too much. When we do it’s when the kids are around.”

Agatha nods jotting down a note from Quinn’s perspective; it has not been going well. She’s been struggling with being at home and taking on your old role. Fin needs constant attention and Beth’s grades are dropping and she’s been getting in more trouble at school. Apparently she hasn’t shared that with you.

“Do you miss being home with the girls?”

“Sometimes but I love my job too so it’s tough.” You chuckled. 

“When the divorce is final how will you juggle the girls?”

“Stark Industries has a daycare in the office so I can have Fin with me, and Beth is good friends with the bosses daughter and the kids on the block so I won’t have to worry too much about carpool.”

Agatha nodded, writing out her notes.

“Where do you think you’ll live?”

“Well I have a few options.” You say.

Agatha nodded for you to continue.

“There's a house for sale a block away from Avenger Lane on Midnight Sun street. That way Beth is still close to her mother and the school.” You opted out on announcing the possibility of moving in with Natasha.

“That’s great.” She nods jotting down a note once again. “Have you thought about custody yet?”

“Of course and I would love for us to trade off weeks.”

“What if Beth doesn’t want to do that?” Agatha asks.

You gulp sitting up a bit. “Well then she can stay with her mother and visit with me when she’s ready.”

Agatha nods and looks up at the clock.

“Well that’s all for today. It was good to see you this morning.”

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Recital night

“Hey, Finley, your Papa is gonna have dinner with us tonight after she comes to your ballet recital. Are you excited?”

“Yeah!” Finley cheered.

“Let’s call her.”

“Hey, I was just about to call you.” She hears you say.

“Hey, are you close?”

“I am still in Manhattan, actually.” You sighed.

“What?” She hissed.

“It’s insane. The secretary of state got cold feet, so I’m stuck here trying to keep him on board.”

“I wish you would have told me an hour ago, when you knew you weren’t gonna make it.”

“Quinn, I couldn’t get out. I barely made it out just to make this phone call.”

“I want Papa!”

“You’re gonna do great. And you know what? Mommy’s gonna record it. So we’ll watch it together. Do you mind doing that, Q?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. Are you sure you know how to do video on the phone?”

“Yes, Y/N, I think I know how to point a rectangle at something.” She furrowed her brows and scoffed.

“Okay, okay, you know, just sometimes you’re not the best with technology.”

“I know how to operate my phone, okay? Listen, we’re getting close. We will talk to you later. Say, ‘Bye, Daddy.’”

“Bye, Daddy.”

“Bye…Yep. See, you’ve still got to press End, Q”

“Press “End.” Finley repeated.

You sighed, rubbing your temples before checking your phone. 

Notification 

‘1 bouquet delivered to…’

You sighed at least they made it to her. You really wanted to be there tonight.

“Hey bud.” Tony said softly, noticing your sullen expression. “I’m sorry you’re missing it too Y/N.” He sighed. “If it helps, Pepper just gave me hell.”

“It’s her first recital. I just hope she doesn’t hold it against me one day.” 

“Of course she won’t. Come on, let's try again.” Tony sighed.

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“Who are they from?” Yelena smirked; but fell when Natasha’s smile faltered.

“It’s Y/N, can’t make it tonight after all.” She felt her heart squeeze. 

Yelena snatched the card out of her hands and began reading aloud.

Nat,

I’m sorry I’m not the one handing these to you, and telling you myself just how proud I am of you. You don’t understand how upset I am right now that I won’t be there tonight. I hope I can find a way to make it up to you and Finley. Good luck and break a leg! I know it’ll go off without a hitch. 

I’m sorry that I’m not there,

From Y/N with love

“Wow.” Yelena hummed, setting the card back in the bouquet.

“What?” Natasha asked as she finished applying her lipstick.

“I mean Y/N still missed it, but now you know how much Y/N wanted to be here. Also the flowers they’re Peonies. Like that old Greek tale about Apollo. I’m just saying they actually put forth the thought and effort. Also Y/N ended it with ‘from Y/N with love’.”

“And?”

“And that means they are in love with you.”

“Y/N and I haven’t said that to each other yet.”

“Сестра, ты влюблен в нее, не так ли?” (Sister, you’re in love with them aren’t you?)

Natasha stared at the card you sent.

“Yes… I’m absolutely irrefutably in love with Y/N.”

“Don’t look so sad. It’ll happen, I know it will.”

Natasha nods and smiles in return to her enthusiastic sister.

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Even though you weren’t there, the recital went on without a hitch, or so she thought. After everyone left she walked out to find her car had died but luckily your ex wife was still in the parking lot.

Quinn and Natasha drove in an awkward silence when you called.

“Hey.” Quinn smiled while answering the phone.

“Hey.” You sighed.

“So, how’s it going?”

“We lost the Secretary. I have no idea what happened. It’s like everything I did, he just wouldn’t go for it.”

“I’m so sorry.” Quinn said suddenly wishing she hadn’t answered the call with the redhead sitting next to her and her daughters in the back asleep.

“I have no idea where we’re gonna come up with this money, and we have to work insanely hard over the next few weeks.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I feel like you’ve already been working insanely hard.”

“Can you figure out how to upload Finley’s dance recital? I definitely could use a pick-me-up.” You sighed; Natasha’s heart aches she could hear the exhaustion in your voice. 

“Um, actually, funny story — I didn’t get it. I shouldn’t have been so cocky about my rectangle-holding skills after all.” Quinn chuckled but stopped when she noticed the silence over the line. “Y/N?” She called out.

“You’re not serious, are you? You didn’t get any of the recital?”

Natasha bit her lip looking out the window. This was something she knew you had been so excited for. So the anger in your voice for having missed it was no surprise, but this fight she was about to witness was.

“No, I got Natasha introducing them and then the applause afterwards. But not so much of the middle part… Speaking of Natasha-“

“Come on, Quinn.” You sighed before asserting your tone. “Quinn, I asked you if you could use the phone, and you swore that you knew how. Nat had said she could have gotten one and I told her you would get it.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m sorry. I’m sure we can get a copy. A lot of people were recording it.” Quinn shook her head. She dropped the ball.

The two women jumped hearing the sound of your fist banging against something.

“Oh, great. So we’ll see somebody else’s kid with Fin in the background? I mean, it’s really not that hard to film a fucking video, Quinn.” 

Quinn let out a small puff of air. “Is there– um… you want to ease up a little bit? That was pretty harsh. I’m still your wife Y/N.” She inhaled, really wanting to cry.

“Listen, Quinn, I don’t know what to tell you. I mean, what do I do? It’s gone. That moment is just gone. I missed it.”

Your wife scoffed at you causing you to ball up your fist.

“Oh I don’t know, Y/N — maybe you should have been here.”

“You’re not serious, right? Wow. I mean, how is that fair!? I’m in NYC. These are my days in New York. You’ve agreed to this. What? Now you know what it feels like and you hate it?

Natasha looked over with her peripheral seeing Quinn wipe her eyes.

“You know what? I– I– I don’t think you want to start a conversation with me about what’s fair. Okay? This is way more intense than I ever thought it would! Beth—“

“Quinn, I’m not explaining this to you– Quinn, I’m not going over this again. I stayed home and took care of our daughters for years and not once did I complain.” You all but growled. “You owe me this much and you know it.”

“Y/N. I need you.” Tony called out.

“Okay Tony give me a minute… I don’t know how else to tell you, okay? I’m doing everything I can every week to bring home-”

“I am– I am– I am trying to make everything perfect here, okay? So that you can have everything that you want. I’m working from home and I’m putting in half my hours-”

“I’m doing this just for me? Is that what I’m doing? I’m doing it just for me?! If that’s what you think, then this is a really sad night. But you know what? I got to go. Okay?”

“Of course you do.” Quinn muttered.

“Hey come on. We’ll put a pin in this for now and we’ll talk tomorrow?”

“Yep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Quinn’s voice was strained.

“Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You sighed.

“Bye.” She squeaked out. 

Quinn pulled into her driveway when Natasha spoke up. 

“Wanda, had her brother have a video of the entire recital. I’ll have her email it to you.”

“Thank you.” Quinn whispered.

“Y/N is just having a bad day and took it out on you. Give them some time.” Natasha explained. 

Quinn chuckled before nodding.

“Thanks for the ride home.” The redhead said softly before turning to open the door only to have Quinn take her hand.

“Thank you Natasha for everything. I treated you like shit just because I was convinced you were in love with Y/N and would somehow steal them away. But I know now you’re just a good friend to Y/N and I need to respect that. I hope one day you can forgive me.”

Natasha felt taken aback. Quinn looked so… sad. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

“Of course and don’t worry about it.” She gulped down the feeling of guilt. Because she totally is in love with you, and soon you’ll be together again.

They both got out of the car. Natasha walked to her home as Quinn got Finley up and out of her car seat and gently woke Beth.

Natasha stepped in her home going through her nightly routine. After asking Clint to help her with her car tomorrow she laid down when her phone rang. She furrowed her brows. It was you.

“Y/N?” She answered.

“Hey.” You sounded tired but your tone was different than it was when you had spoken with Quinn. It wasn't irate and angry. It was tired but also tender.

“How are you?”

“Ah, I've had better nights.” You sounded like you were stretching.

“What’s wrong?” She asked as if she didn’t just hear you arguing with your wife.

“I just…” you sighed tiredly rubbing your face. “Nat, do you think me working for Tony is a mistake?”

“What? What do you mean? This is your dream Y/N.” She furrowed her brows sitting up.

“I missed my daughter's first ballet recital, and I missed your debut. I’m so sorry. I wanted to be there so bad Nat you have to believe me. I-“

“Hey.” She said softly before you went down a spiral of self loathing. “It’s okay! There’s going to be so many more, and it’s on video so you can still see it.” 

“I know I let you down.”

“I'll admit I was upset you weren’t there. I just miss you baby, and you promised.”

“I know. I feel sick about it.”

“Well don’t it’s okay I forgive you. I know you wanted to be here. I know you did.”

“So badly.” She hears you lay down. “I- I got in a fight with Quinn about it.” You admit.

“What happened?”

“Now looking back on it I shouldn’t have been so upset with her.” You sighed. “I spoke with her this morning about this meeting Tony and I had with The Secretary of State. Nat this meeting was extremely important. Something happened in the meeting and well the United States is no longer wanting to back Stark Industries. I lost it. Tony lost it. We couldn’t leave. I spent all day in crisis mode and in and out of meetings…. I was so angry that I missed tonight and I may have taken it out on her a bit. I just wanted to see Finley ya know. That was it when I called her tonight. That was all I wanted and she somehow didn’t video Finley. My daughter's first recital was gone. Well not now that I just watched the video, but in that moment I wasn’t thinking and I got so upset with her. I shouldn’t have.” At this point you’re crying a little bit and you’re really trying not too but Nat can tell. “She made a mistake, and she’s been so good too. I’m such an asshole!”

“Y/N you are not an asshole.” She said softly. “You’re stressed, and you’re still hurt by what she did to you. She stole your dream away, lied and cheated. She even served you. If anything I think it would be a little weird if you weren’t upset with her. As for your question in the beginning, no I don’t think you working with Tony is a mistake. You told me this has always been your dream. That unfortunately got taken away from you, but by the grace of Thor-“

You chuckled, wiping your tears.

“-you met Tony and here you are. That’s not a mistake. That’s fate… As for the Secretary, go to him first thing in the morning. You can get him back. I know you can. If you can sell Finley her peas. You can sell tech to that old man.”

You chuckled.

“God, I miss you.” You found yourself saying.

Her breath hitched before smiling softly. “I miss you too baby, I got your flowers by the way. They’re beautiful.” She says softly as she studies them on her nightstand.

“I’m glad you like them.” You said softly you drove yourself mad going through a list of flowers to pick. It had to be perfect. “I still wish I had been able to give them to you in person.”

“Did you pick them?” Natasha asks you after a beat. “I mean I know they were delivered obviously, but did you?” She’s waiting with bated breath for you to answer. She knew it had to be a yes she just knew it. You loved gardening, you know flowers maybe not as much as growing vegetables and fruits, but you knew flowers. Especially since Quinn let it slip that the first time you ever got her flowers was when you were both hiding your relationship. You were 15 and you knew what Gardenias meant. You have to know the story of the flower.

“I did.” You said softly.

Natasha’s breath hitched you picked them for her. You picked a flower that means love and romance and of course Goodwill.

“Did you ever hear the story of Paeonia?”

‘Yes.’ You wanted to say.

“Tell me about it.” You say instead.

“Well the story goes to say that Apollo fell for a Nymph named Paeonia. Apollo found her more beautiful than Aphrodite. Unfortunately for Paeonia, this rubbed Aphrodite the wrong way. She flew into a jealousy-fueled rage. Feeling vengeful, she turned Paeonia into a red peony.”

“Apollo was quite the ladies man.” You chuckled.

“That he was.” Natasha chuckled; she knew she shouldn’t be wondering this but she couldn’t help herself. 

“So… how was the recital Nat?” 

“It was pretty amazing.” She gushed.

“I saw it. It was fantastic! Tell me all about it.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Nah.” You smiled, closing your eyes.

“Lies, you just want me to bore you to sleep.” She chuckled.

“Bore? Pshhhh! You could never bore me, Natalia Romanoff.” You chuckled. Her voice could easily lure you to sleep but you could never find her boring.

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You snapped awake, your phone blaring. You blinked a few times at the device. Still half asleep. Your eyes widened realizing you and Natasha never actually hung up the phone. You both must have fallen asleep. It’s your wife calling. 

You hesitantly end the phone call with Natasha and answer Quinn.

“Morning.” You croak out having to clear your throat.

“Are you coming back home so we can leave for Lima?”

You were really trying to forgive Quinn, but deep down you weren’t ready to yet.

“Yes, I just have a meeting here in an hour.”

“Okay.” 

The call ended and you and Tony had your meeting. You worked your magic, and remembered Natasha’s encouraging words. Even Tony was in wonderment as you spoke to the Secretary of State, but by the end of your speech they agreed and signed the contract.

And you and Tony shared a bottle of champagne on the way back home.

“I’m proud of you kid.”

“Thanks Tony.”

“I know you missed Finley’s recital and Natasha’s debut. Just remember that it does come with the job. It’s unfortunate it is but we just signed a very big fucking deal and you fucking did it. Not only that but your building your children’s futures. They will understand when they’re holding their diplomas in their hands and realizing how hard you worked to get them there.”

You nodded as you both toasted.

“How’s the divorce going?”

“Not good. She won’t fucking sign the papers Tony, and she fucking served me.” You huffed downing the flute. Tony refilled it.

“Don’t worry I’ll take care of it. You need to tell your dad what’s going on.”

“I don’t want to worry him.”

“I can understand that but he deserves to know. It would break my heart to know my kid was going through this alone and I didn’t know. You said you’re leaving for Lima today tell them, and what about Nat?”

“What about her?”

“Does she know you’ve been served?”

“No but I’ll tell her.” You sighed.

“It’s important she knows too. I know you two love each other. You can see it written on your face from fucking space.” He laughed.

“I haven’t told her yet… I want to be divorced first.”

“I get that it’s honorable.” He nodded.

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Once you get back home you rush towards Natasha’s home knocking.

“Y/N.” She says in surprise, bringing you inside.

You hug her tightly. It's been so long since you held her.

“How long are you leaving this time?” She mumbled against your chest.

“About a week. Taking the kids to see my parents back in Lima and we usually have Finn’s memorial as well around this time.”

“Have you…” she clears her throat. “Have you told your parents yet?

“I don’t know if I should yet. I'm pretty torn.”

“Well, do you plan on staying with her?” She asked, stepping back, her eyes hardened.

“No… you know I don’t.” You say stepping closer trying to take her hand only for her to smack it away.

“Then you need to tell them.” She raised her brow.

“I’m just worried-“

“Your parents are grown ups Y/N they handled a teen pregnancy they can handle this.”

You purse your lips and nod. “I’ll tell them.”

She nods, feeling apprehensive.

“Hey come on, Nat, don’t do that, I will, I promise you, I will.” You say taking her hands.

“Okay.” She nods.

“Come here.” You say bringing her in a hug.

Natasha squeezes you tight, breathing you in and so do you.

“I meant to give you this last night after your debut.” You said pulling out a small jewelry box. You opened it revealing a golden diamond tennis bracelet.

“Y/N.” Natasha closed the box.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“This just feels… wrong.”

“Wrong? How?” You frowned.

“It just feels like you’re… you’re trying to buy my forgiveness.”

“I guess it does seem that way, but it’s not meant to be. I was supposed to be there for you and Fin last night. I had it all planned.” You sighed sitting against the shoulder of her sofa. “I was going to bring Finley and give her some chocolate flowers and you the flowers I had sent and this bracelet I found in Tokyo.”

Natasha walked over between your legs. “I don’t need anything I just want you, I keep telling you that.” She says softly.

“This is just my love language, Nat, I do acts of service and give gifts when I’m away from people I care about for a long time.” You explain. “This bracelet isn’t me buying your forgiveness. If that’s how you feel then I’ll keep it.”

She shook her head and placed her hand on your heart. “No it’s okay it’s just I’ve never had someone who's gotten me things and made acts of service for me. I’m not used to it.” 

“I probably shouldn’t have gotten something so…” You nod looking away from her eyes feeling foolish.

“It’s beautiful.” She says softly, turning you by the chin. She kisses you and your hands grip her hips. She whimpers letting her fingers peek in between the buttons of your dress shirt.

“Hmm.” You hum taking her bottom lip in between teeth. “I miss you baby.” 

“I miss you too.” She says kissing you again letting her tongue meet yours.

Her negligee is thin and her robe is undone you can feel her thigh against you.

Your kiss is turning a little heated and sloppy teeth are beginning to clash and you feel the heat of her breath against your skin.

She presses her hands against your chest and lays her forehead against yours. “God this is so hard not being with you.” She whispers.

“I know. I just need a little more time and I promise I’ll be yours.” You stand and hold her close. “You were right by the way. I got the Secretary to sign.”

“I knew you would.” She smiled up at you.

Her hand makes its way down, and you raise your brows. She rolled her eyes and took out the new box.

“Put it on me.” She says.

You open it and take the bracelet from its silky cushion and place it around her wrist. You kiss her hand and say:

“I’m gonna miss you.” You say.

“I’m gonna miss you more.” She replies with a sniffle.

“Not a chance.” You say making her laugh.

You kiss her one more time she hums. Her hand going beneath your coat to rest against your heart. The diamonds twinkle beneath the morning sun.

“I have to go. Our flight leaves soon.”

She nods and kisses you softly as you hold her.

“I’ll see you soon.” 

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“Thanks again for picking us up from the airport Frankie.” Quinn says from the backseat.

“Yeah thanks dad.”

“Thanks poppop.” Beth smiles from her switch.

“Tanks popo.”

“Oh of course!” Frankie smiles in the rear view mirror. 

“Y/N how’s Nat doing?”

“Good she just opened up a ballet studio. Fin is her student!”

“Oh well that’s fantastic, good for her! Beth, you don’t wanna learn Ballet?”

“I am; just from mom.” She replied back.

“Bonding time is always nice.” Frankie nodded feeling it was a sensitive subject.

“Where’s mom? At home?” You asked, changing the subject.

“Of course just making your favorite.” He chuckled.

“Popo?”

“Yes Fin?” Your dad smiled through the rearview mirror.

“Wanna see me dance?”

“Yes honey when we get home you can show me and GG!”

“Yayyyyyyy!” Finley cheered.

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“Mom.” You sighed practically falling in her strong arms. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Your mom couldn’t help but cry holding you tight for just a minute longer before letting you go to see you. “Oh baby you look tired and have you been eating? Come inside!” She pushed you inside towards the kitchen before turning and giving Beth a hug.

“Hi GG!” Beth smiled hugging her close.

“Oh Bethy your getting so big please stop!” Sophia sniffled before letting her go as Finley ran towards her dropping her backpack on the grass for her popo to pick up.

“GG!!!!!” She squealed, running towards your mother jumping in her arms.

“Mi Reina!” Your mother cooed, rocking her side to side.

Quinn gulped feeling guilt ridden as Sophia smiled at her. “Hello, Quinn.” She hugged her and Quinn hugged back feeling like she was going to just break down in tears.

“Come on inside, it's time to eat.”

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You could feel your parents doing that thing where they telepathically communicate and stare at you.

“Papa, this is my favorite too!” Finley smiled as she chewed looking up at you.

Your parents chuckled and your mom leaned over kissing Fin’s cheek.

“When’s Finn’s memorial?” You dad asks.

“Probably Friday.” You nod.

“I ran into his mother the other day. She and Burt are doing well.”

“That’s good.” Quinn speaks up.

“I still can’t believe he’s gone. He’d show up everyday just to play with you.” Sophia smiled sadly.

“Uncle Finn?” Beth asked looking up.

“Hmhm, two peas in a pod; three of you really if you count Mikey.” Sophia chuckled.

“I was always happy you had two best friends.” Your dad smiled. “A classic friendship and plenty of memories.”

“What was the funniest thing that they did?” Beth asked.

“Well let’s see.” Your dad looked deep in thought when your mother chuckled and leaned over.

“Oh God, don't give her any ideas please.” You groaned.

“Once they learned an entire Backstreet Boys dance and showed off to that cute little girl what was her name? Gabrielle?”

“Avery.” Quinn muttered.

“That’s the one!” Your mom laughed.

“Or the time you sent that kid all the way to LA.” Your raised his brow.

“Wait what?!” Beth giggled.

“Your papa was a tyrant.” Your mom smirked.

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“I’m gonna go visit my mother for a bit.” Quinn speaks softly.

You nod not looking at her. 

“Baby please look at me.” She sniffles, placing her hands on your cheeks.

“Don’t call me that.” You respond by taking her hands off of you.

“There was a time where you loved me and couldn’t keep your hands off me. Why can’t we just go back? Start over?”

“You know why Quinn.” You say stepping away and sitting down on your old computer chair.

“Y/N we’ve been together since high school. We have Beth and Finley. Our friends. Please I’m begging you-“

“You need to understand that I do not love you anymore. The thought of us together makes me sick. We are over. We’ve been over for so long. You just didn’t want to admit it. That’s why you snuck around.”

“I made some stupid decisions, but you were never one of them. I love you Y/N I always have and I always will.”

You looked away.

Quinn sighs in defeat before leaving the house.

You make your way back downstairs when you see your parents sitting in the living room.

“So? You're gonna tell us what’s wrong?” Your dad asked, setting his newspaper down as you mom sat on the arm of his chair.

You rubbed your face, the jig is up, they always know when something is wrong. Natasha’s face comes to mind.

“Get it off your shoulders Y/N.” Your mom whispered.

“Quinn and I are separated.” You say softly.

Your parents nod understanding as they look at one another.

“What happened?”

“You’re going to be very upset.” You say trying not to cry.

“What have I always said to you about that?” Your dad responds.

“We’ve had a rocky year. We purposely moved out of the city to help our relationship but it’s only gotten worse. I found that she cheated on me, got her tubes tied then tried to untie them, but worse she and her mother…”

“What did that bitch do?” Your mother all but growls.

“She’s the reason I didn’t get into MIT. She took my letter and declined it before I could see it.” You sniffle.

“I’m gonna kill her!” Your mother stands rushing to the closet.

“Sophia!” Your dad runs after her just as she grabbed your old metal bat. “No honey no!” Your dad said, trying to take it from her.

“She ruined our baby’s college career Frankie!” 

“I understand you’re upset so am I and I’m sure our baby is too, but she’s a Fabray if you just go there guns blazing you will end up in jail. No, we have to be cunning. We have to be smart. This isn’t checkers hun this is chess.” 

Your mom finally lets go and your father places it back in the closet and goes over to the bar to make your mother a drink.

“Y/N do you have a lawyer.”

“Yes but she served me our last court day she got the judge to give us court ordered couples therapy to prolong the divorce.”

“That’s okay we can use the therapy to our advantage and we can serve them. What she did is a felony.”

“I don’t want this to get uglier dad.”

“It already is Y/N.”

“No one hurts our family and gets away with it.” Your mother raised her brow laying a hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“Alright so this is what you’re gonna do Y/N.” Your father begins.

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After following your fathers instructions you sat down next to him as your mother played with the girls..

“Despite all of this bad news I did find some good.”

“Oh? Is that Natasha?”

“Well yes but Tony was the one that found out about MIT he had Nat tell me… He also gave me a job. I’ve been working with him for the past few weeks.”

“Really?” Your dad asked, raising his brows as you nodded. “Y/N that’s great.” He smiled

“Dad, I'm kind of scared. The Fabrays have never been one to play.”

“I promise you the plan will work.”

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“Thank you for dinner, this is just absolutely delicious.” Your mother smiled villainously.

“Oh I’m glad you like it Sophia you’ll have to come again sometime.” Judy smiles. “By the way, where are the girls?”

“They’re with Santana and Brittany.” You responded.

“Oh okay.” Judy said sadly when the doorbell suddenly rang.

“Mind if I grab a drink?” Sophia asks.

“Oh yes of course. Let me see who's at the door.”

Judy stood walking to the door.

“You should go with your mother.” You nodded towards Quinn.

“Mom, what's going on.”

“Oh great two birds one stone. Quinn and Judy Fabray?” The courier asked.

“Yes?”

“You’ve been served.” 

“Wait what?! There must be some kind of mistake!”

“Oh no it was deliberate just like how you stole my child’s chance at MIT.” Sophia spoke walking up to Judy with you and Frankie in tow. 

“Sophia I-“

“Shush now honey, you’ll let the flies in. Just save it for the judge.”

“We’ll see you both in court.” Your father gruffs.

“Y/N-“ Quinn begins.

“It’s best if you stay here.”

“Y/N please!” Quinn pleaded but it was too late you had already slammed the door shut.

“I told you over and over again not to listen to mom. You both are fucking unbelievable.” With that Frannie grabbed her things and left the Fabray mansion.

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It was late in the night the girls were sound asleep and it was just you and your parents.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner sweetheart?” Your mom asks taking your hand across the table.

“I just wanted to try and handle it on my own and not worry you guys. I just didn’t want to disappoint you again.”

“We’ve told you time and time again.” Your parents sighed, shaking they’re heads.

“I know, I know.” You sighed rubbing your temple. “There’s something else you should know. A month ago I realized maybe Quinn wasn’t too far off about me having feelings about Natasha. We’ve gotten closer and well I’m in love with her, but you have to know I didn’t leave Quinn for her. That’s not how any of this happened.”

You parents nodded, taking it all in.

“So you love her huh?” Your dad asked.

“I do… I kind of figured it out a while back, but we never did anything, just stayed friends of course. Then when I left Quinn and I stayed with Nat. It was the last night I stayed there but we slept together. We knew we probably should’ve waited at least until the divorce is final, and we had that discussion we’re waiting to be together once this is over. I probably shouldn’t have even told you that part but it’s important because…” you reached into your pocket taking out a box.

Your mom gasped.

“I love her so much and this time apart has only proved that I wanna spend the rest of my days with her. I know it’s soon but I honestly have given it a lot of thought. She means so much to me.”

“So you fell in love with Natasha and now you want to marry her.” Your dad chuckled.

And your mom looked at him wondering what he was thinking.

“You know if we hadn't met her, I probably would have thought you were acting childish, but she was a beautiful and sweet woman. Your mom and I fell in love with her instantly.”

Your mom looked almost relieved at his answer.

“We just want you to be happy.” Your mom replied. 

“Is it pretty fast? Yeah.” Your dad laughed. “But if she makes you happy, actually happy then lock her down.”

Your mom laughed, kissing his cheek and you wiped your tears.

“Let me see it.” Your mom beamed as you handed the the ring.

“Wow.” Your parents gasped.

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“Thanks again for watching the girls.”

“Of course.” Your mom smiled, squeezing Beth as they made dinner.

“Don’t worry we’ve got them. Go on to Finn’s memorial.” Your dad waved you off.

You nodded, grabbing your keys and pecking parents as well as your daughter's cheeks. “I love you all I won’t be back too too late.”

Your dad smirked as you walked out.

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You were the first one to walk into the old choir room seeing some things have changed. You could practically see your old silhouettes dancing and singing. 

Your turned hearing footsteps. Mercedes, Sam, Tina, Mike, Artie, Kurt, Blaine, Santana, and Brittany all came in.

“What a nerd, always on time.” Santana snickered, giving you a hug.

“We may have been gossiping about you.” Mike cringed feeling Santana smack his shoulder.

“They just gave us a heads up.” Tina frowned.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Mercedes frowned, giving you a hug.

“It’s okay guys really.” You sighed.

“Do you think they’re going to show up?” Kurt asked.

“I don’t know, I mean, I won’t be upset if they do. This is for Finn, not me.” You shrug.

“You’re bigger than me.” Santana scoffed.

“Hmhm.” Mercedes nodded her head.

“I served her and Judy yesterday.”

“Pause. What!?” Santana raised her hand.

“I have a feeling she’ll sign in a few days.” You say.

“Oh for sure the Fabrays hate a bad image.” Santana huffed.

“Soooo how’s it going with a certain redhead?” Mike raised his brows.

“Ohhh I knew it!” Santana crouched down fist pumping.

“Noooo! You and the ex model?!” Mercedes gasped.

“Natasha?!” Kurt gasped, falling in Blaine’s arms.

“Alright take it easy.” You muttered.

“Dude nice!” Sam nodded.

“So what’s going on with that?” Tina asked.

“Well… when I left Quinn I stayed with Nat and well the last night I stayed with her….” You nodded.

“Woooow.” Brittany muttered. 

“It just sort of happened, and I don’t know I’ve been having these feelings for her and that week really solidified everything for me.”

“So you two are together?” Mike asked.

“We’re waiting.” You shook your head.

“Why?!” Santana scoffed.

“We wanna wait until Quinn and I are divorced.”

“Damn, she must really love you to deal with Quinn’s crazy ass.” Artie commented.

“Ohhh yeah Artie you were right by the way.”

“I’m always right… but about what?” He kinked his brow.

“Steve is gay. He and Bucky are together.”

“I fucking called it.” Artie smirked, wheeling away.

You smiled to yourself, you turned towards Kurt and Blaine. “You alright there Kurt?”

“I’m just so happy.” He cried, dabbing his eyes as Blaine fanned him. “Steve’s gay and you’ve snagged Natasha.”

“She’s such a class act and absolutely gorgeous we’re so happy for you Y/N.” Blaine smiled.

“Thank you.” You said softly before snapping a quick pic of the scene before you and sending it to Natasha with the caption.

McKinley’s resident Diva finding out about us.

Nat: That’s hilarious 😆 Also you told them?

You: I did… is that okay?

Nat: more than okay 🥹😚❤️‍🔥

You: 😊🥰😚

“Do you guys think Shue is coming?” Sam asked.

“Ew I hope not.” Brittany cringed.

“Sorry we’re late guys.” 

You all turn around seeing Quinn and Rachel walk in. Quinn’s nose was a pink hue and bags are now puffy from crying.

“I was thinking we could stick to what we have been doing every year? Everyone who wants to sing can sing and maybe we can end with a group song?” Rachel gulped feeling daggers at her face. 

“Okay maybe we should all clear the air first? Then make this about Finn?”

“No we need to focus on Finn I don’t think you wanna hear what we have to say.” Mike grit.

“Well Michael, I think it’s best to clear the air.” Rachel doubled down.

“Oh no honey there’s nothing to clear. We know what’s going on.” Mercedes scoffed.

“Guys please I know you’re angry with me but Rachel really isn’t the problem just direct it to me.” Quinn sighed.

“I mean she did confront Nat about getting her to break us up but yeah sure let’s not say she had no hand in it.” You nodded.

“Skirrrrt what?!” Artie tilted his head.

“Okay, I was drunk and I did say that, but I saw how close the two of you were. Y/N deny it all you want but I saw how close the two of you were that night at your party. KISSING DISTANCE.” Rachel clapped.

“Oh no you’re right there is no denying it. You see Rachel unlike my soon to be ex wife over here I never cheated not once. I never looked at another woman, but she kept bashing me and kept hammering on and on about Natasha and myself that I finally saw the light that night. So many people said I made the biggest mistake by marrying you.” You said towards a crying Quinn.

“My parents, Mike, Finn, Sersi, and now Natasha…. And then all your lies started coming out of the woodwork. Accusing me of having an affair with Sersi when really you were probably having this affair with the hobbit from the Shire.”

Quinn sniffled, shaking her head as Rachel scoffed.

“Telling me you were pregnant but really you had your tubes tied after you had Finley just so I couldn’t work with Stark Industries. But what really takes the cake is you stealing my chance at MIT… I will NEVER forgive you for that. You’re a liar Quinn Fabray. There’s no telling what lows you will stoop too. What else have you done behind my back huh? What did you poke a hole in the condom to have Beth?”

“No!” She cried.

“Dammmmn.” Artie gasped.

“She probably did.” Sam mumbled.

“You’re gonna sign those papers. You’re gonna let me have 50/50 custody of our girls. You’re gonna let me take whatever is mine in that house including my dog Ollie. You can keep the house I’m moving in with Natasha.”

“I fucking knew it!” She cried.

“No you didn’t but you did push me in her arms.” You chuckled.

“Literally.” Santana nodded.

“Honestly Q, I warned you this would happen.” Brittany shrugged.

“Fine we’ll go to court and I’ll just prove that you and Natasha had a thing.” Quinn’s eyes hardened as her jaw locked in place. “I’ll get that little Russian bitch deported.”

“Wow!” Kurt gasped. 

You chuckled darkly, stepping forward. “Oh Quinn, she has a green card that won’t happen. You’re gonna sign whatever the fuck I want you to sign, but hey if you wanna play it that way we can go to court.” You nod before losing your smile.

“Just know I’m taking the Fabray fortune with me, and your cunt of a mother can live the rest of her miserable days with you. If you wanna take that risk be my guest. Honestly I actually kind of want to go to court just so I can take your family’s money and that old mansion. I think I’ll knock it down and put up a Taco Bell. But don’t worry I’ll take care of Franny.” You wink.

“You fucking asshole!” Quinn tried to slap you but you managed to dodge the hit and Artie managed to get it on video right before you moved. Sam grabbed her and moved her across the room.

“That was fucking diabolical.” Santana smirked. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Dude.” Mike covered his mouth smiling. “That was amazing.”

“Y/N, I just sent you this video, you should show the court this as well.” Artie grinned.

“Thank you.” You shook his hand.

“Anytime. I live for this shit.” Artie cackled.

“Okay, she is starting to smoke from my pen so she’s good now.” Sam nodded.

A few moments later Rachel walked up it almost felt like high school again sitting in the bleachers with her front and center.

“Okay, so the air is cleared somewhat… can we now make this about Finn?” Rachel asked, looking at the framed photo in front of her.

“Definitely.” You said smugly.

“Quinn?” Rachel called out softly.

“Yes.” She said rubbing her temple.

“Guys?”

“Uhhuh, yup, yes!” Everyone answered.

“I also brought us some whiskey.” You announced holding up a flask.

“Y/N, this is a school.” Rachel huffed.

“Rachel it’s for Finn.” Quinn sighed.

You handed her the flask and she took it.

“Great… maybe let’s share some of our favorite moments with Finn? I’ll start us off…. I remember our last moments were at the train station when he sent me on my way to New York. I remember being really sad that I didn’t get to send him off. He told me he loved me but that he wasn’t going to write me.” Rachel began to cry. “Not because he didn’t want to but because this was goodbye he didn’t want to me to bring an anchor to New York.”

You furrowed your brows remembering Quinn saying those words when she mentioned them together back in high school. 

“He kissed me and then he let me go. That was the last time I ever saw him.” Rachel sniffled. “It’s weird I know I’ve always had these feeling deep down for Quinn but Finn always held my heart. I’ll always love you Finn.” Rachel cried before taking a swig. The Broadway singer sat next to Quinn who rubbed her back.

“I guess I’ll go next, Y/N, you might wanna join me since you were there.” Mike chuckled, standing up holding the flask. “One of my favorite moments was the night before he left for the Marines.”

“It was just us three like old times.” You chuckled, nodding.

“Finn wanted to do everything we used to do when we were kids.” Mike sniffled. “We played video games and gorged ourselves on pizza rolls.”

“Then we went to the football field and got hammered.” You snickered.

“We tried to sneak into a strip club.” Mike laughed, causing you to laugh along with the club. “At first we couldn’t get in but Y/N-“ Mike chuckled. “Y/N told the truth to the bouncer that Finn was a dumbass who had enlisted, and that it could be the last time he would see a good piece of ass for the next 4 years.”

“We got in for like an hour.” You chuckled.

“Then Finn cried and told us how much he loved us.” The dancer had tears in his eyes.

“How much Glee meant to him.” You added trying not to cry.

“And how if he could do it all again he would.” Mike said sadly.

“We cried and then we busted his balls for making us cry.” You chuckled.

“We told him we’d write and FaceTime.” Mike continued.

“Told him I’d name my next kid after him.” You chuckled, making Quinn smile.

“We went back to his moms house, ate more pizza rolls, and passed out in his room in the same spots we used to sleep in as kids.” Mike smiled before taking a shot of the whiskey.

“Here’s to you Finn.” You say softly taking a shot.

“We love you man.” You and Mike said together before pulling one another in a hug silently crying. It was in your embrace that you both felt his presence. Almost as if he was holding you both in a bear hug. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room when you turned around.

“Fuck you guys that was sad.” Artie wiped his tears as he took the flask. “As you all know I was bullied relentlessly in the beginning before Glee. There was one day Puck was going to throw me down the stairs to be honest I was terrified. Finn caught him before it happened and took me to class. Y/N, I’m pretty sure you were the one that shoved Puck down stairs that day.” Artie snickered. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was in math class that day.” You grinned as everyone chuckled.

“I got messed with but Finn and of course Y/N and Mike always managed to save me. Thanks guys.”

Kurt walked down taking the flask.

“Um, so Finn was one of my biggest crushes in high school besides my husband of course.” He chuckled. “He made it very clear that we would only ever be friends at the most brothers. After seeing his wardrobe, and the way he danced. those feelings quickly faded.” He laughed.

“He was a great step brother though. Always took up for me and supported me when I decided to leave our school and then when I decided to come back. It was hard losing him. It still is after all this time. We miss you Finn but don’t worry I’ve got mom and dad taken care of.” Kurt took a swig and made a face before taking his seat.

Soon everyone said they’re kind words.

“Should we move to a karaoke bar? My dads said we can use theirs in the basement.” Rachel announced.

“I’d like say something first if that’s okay.” Quinn said softly you handed the nearly empty flask.

“Finn and I didn’t always get along. He never thought I was good enough for Y/N and he was right.” 

You looked up.

“Finn, I’m sorry for all the times I tore you down and called you dumb. I’m sorry for telling you that you weren’t good enough for Rachel.”

The brunette looked up in surprise.

“But most of all I’m sorry for how I treated your best friend. I hope you can forgive one day.” With that Quinn downed the rest of the flask.

“That was beautifully said Quinn.” Rachel spoke up as the blonde handed you the flask.

“So Rachel, your parents still have that full bar?” Tina grinned.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

Drinks were going, songs were played, laughs were heard around the room.

Rachel downed a shot of liquid courage before walking over towards you. You looked up after making a drink.

“I just wanted to apologize to you for my part… I- I don’t know what the fuck came over me. I don’t what I was thinking. I don’t what made me think that trying to steal Quinn and getting Natasha to help me was a good idea. But I am sorry Y/N. I really am.” Rachel quickly wiped away a stray tear. “I know you’ve never liked me, I know you think I’m fake, but I’m being real with you right now. Because I know Finn would have been ashamed of me and my actions. It would have broke his heart. Me having feelings for Quinn I don’t think he would have really thought much of it but me hurting you I think he would have hated me for that. So I hope one day you can forgive me. Maybe we can be friends one day?”

“Maybe.” You nod.

“That’s all I can hope for.” She squeezes your hand and walks away.

“Was that an apology I heard?” Kurt asked, walking over with Mike.

“It was.” You raised your brow.

“Woooow.” Kurt nodded.

“Sup Fabgay.” Santana said, leaning by Quinn.

“Santana.” Quinn sighed.

“Was that a real apology you made earlier to Finn or just something to put on a show before court?”

“It was real.” She sighed.

“So then you’re going to sign?” Santana hounded her.

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Quinn groaned, before grabbing her drink.

“Are you even in love with Y/N? Like gotta have sex with them constantly, wanna have another baby, want to grow old with them?”

Quinn watched you as you laughed at something Kurt said.

“Because I can tell you right now Y/N does not feel that way about you.”

“I get it Santana, Y/N is fucking our neighbor.”

“I never said that.” The brunette snickered.

“Q, after everything you put Y/N through, don't you want them to be happy? Even if it’s with Natasha?” Brittany asked.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Quinn stood up going to the restroom with her old cheerio teammates in tow.

Meanwhile on the other side of the room.

“So Y/N tell us about Natasha.” Mercedes smiled coyly.

“She’s absolutely amazing.” Kurt began.

“Uh I said Y/N!” Mercedes huffed.

“Well he isn’t wrong.” You chuckled. “She’s the sweetest most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I think I’m taking her somewhere special when all this is said and done.” You say.

“Ooooh take her somewhere secluded and snuggle by the fire.” Tina said whimsically.

“I think I just might! My boss did say I could borrow his cabin upstate.”

“Noooo take her somewhere tropical and luxurious.” Mercedes laughed.

“Seeing her in a bikini does sound nice.” You smirked.

Your friends laughed.

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“Alright guys I think I’m gonna head out.” You say standing up.

“Wait nooooo! Nooo!” Mike slurred.

“Yeah.” You chuckled.

“No wait Y/L/N play us one song just one! Berry you’ve got a guitar right?!” Santana asked.

“Yes!” Rachel ran into the closet grabbing a guitar before handing it to you. “It’s old, never really used it. It was in my early Taylor era hence the pink.” She giggled.

“Okay just one and I think you guys might remember this from grad night if so; sing along.” You say taking a seat on the stool. You start to tune the guitar and begin to strum lightly.

“Passed out on the overpass 

Sunday best and broken glass 

Broken down from the bikes 

And bars Suspended like spirits 

Over speeding cars 

You and me were kings over the 

Parkway tonight”

Tina took her lighter out waving her hand.

“And tonight will go on forever

While we walk around this town

Like we own the streets

And stay awake through summer 

Like we own the heat 

Singing "everybody wake up”

(wake Up!)

“it's time to get down” 

(everybody, everybody wake up It's time to get down!)”

Everyone was swaying together as they sang.

“And when I pass the bottle back

To Finn on the overpass tonight, 

I bet we laugh” 

“To Finn!” Everyone cheered, taking another shot as you strummed.

“I'm gonna stay eighteen forever 

(cut me open) 

So we can stay like this forever 

(sun poisoned) 

And we'll never miss a party 

(this offer stands forever) 

'Cause we keep them going constantly 

And we'll never have to listen 

To anyone about anything 

(new bracelet) 

'Cause it's all been done and 

It's all been said 

(eyeliner) 

We're the coolest kids and we 

Take what we can get”

Santana cried as she remembered the good old days and how far she and Brittany have come. She’s not young anymore, none of them are.

“The hell out of this town 

Find some conversation 

The low fuel lights been on for days 

It doesn't mean anything 

I've got another 500 nother 500 miles 

Before we shut this engine down, 

We shut it down”

“I'm gonna stay eighteen forever 

(cut me open) 

So we can stay like this forever 

(sun poisoned) 

And we'll never miss a party 

(this offer stands forever) 

'Cause we keep them going constantly 

And we'll never have to listen 

To anyone about anything 

(new bracelet) 

'Cause it's all been done 

And it's all been said 

(eyeliner) 

We're the coolest kids and 

We take what we can get 

(wait forever) 

(you're just jealous cause 

I'm young and in love)”

“Eighteen forever 

(your stomachs filled up but 

You're starved for conversation!) 

So we can stay like this forever 

(you're spending all your nights 

Growing old in your bed) 

And we'll never miss a party 

(and your tearin up your photos 

'Cause you want to forget... it's over!!) 

'Cause we keep them going constantly”

“(you're just jealous cause 

I'm young and in love!) 

And we'll never have to listen 

(your stomachs filled up but 

You're starved for conversation!) 

To anyone about anything cause 

It's all been done 

(you're spending all your nights 

Growing old in your bed!) 

And it's all been said 

(and your tearin' up your photos 

'Cause you want to forget... it's over!) 

We're the coolest kids and we take 

What we can get”

“You’re just jealous cause we're 

Young and in love!

You're just jealous cause 

We're young and in love!

You're just jealous cause 

We're young and in love!

You're just jealous cause 

We're young and in love!

You're just jealous cause 

We're young and in love!”

All of you came together in a hug already planning on the next get together.

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“Hello?” Natasha answered sleepily.

“Hi I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Don’t be, I was hoping you would call.”

“How have you been? How was Thanksgiving?”

“I’m ok and it was alright. Of course it would have been better with you.” She says softly.

“Same here.” You say softly.

“Yelena and Kate made me binge watch Parks and Rec.”

“It’s pretty great right?”

“It definitely made me laugh.”

“Who was your favorite character?”

“Ron Swanson of course.”

“The scene where he pulls out his tooth just gets me every time.”

She laughs and it sounds so heavenly you can feel your heart skip a beat. “Or the time he broke the coffee pot and started a war in the office?”

You both chuckled.

“How was Finn’s memorial?”

“It was eventful.” You chuckled.

“I got to see some of the stories.” Natasha snickered.

“Oh no.” You looked down at your phone seeing the tags.

“The story you and Mike shared about Finn was sweet. I definitely cried. Plus I got to hear you sing, which is one of my favorite things.”

“You’re making me blush.” You grin.

“The pink guitar is cute.” She snickered.

“It’s not mine, it's Rachel’s.” You huffed.

“A likely story.”

You laughed.

“I miss you Y/N.” She gulped, trying not to cry.

“I miss you. I may not be home for a few more days. I have some loose ends to tie up, but I promise you I’ll be there in time for your birthday.”

“Okay.” She whispered, wondering if she should hold her breath.

“I mean it Nat. I’m going to make it happen.”

She pulled your hoodie closer.

“Will you sing to me?”

“Close your eyes and I'll kiss you

Tomorrow I'll miss you

Remember I'll always be true

And then while I'm away

I'll write home every day

And I'll send all my loving to you.”

“Keep going.” She whispered.

“I'll pretend that I'm kissing

The lips I am missing

And hope that my dreams will come true

And then while I'm away

I'll write home every day

And I'll send all my loving to you.”

“All my loving.” She smiled.

“I will send to you

All my loving, darling I'll be true

Close your eyes and I'll kiss you

Tomorrow I'll miss you

Remember I'll always be true

And then while I'm away

I'll write home every day

And I'll send all my loving to you

All my loving I will send to you

All my loving, darling I'll be true

All my loving, all my loving ooh

All my loving I will send to you”

“What do you think?” You asked.

“I loved it baby.” 

“Papa?” She heard Fin call for you.

“What’s wrong bubs? What are you doing up?” You lift her up.

“Popo snores too loud.” She grunts burying her face in your neck. You chuckled and so did Natasha. 

“I’ll let you go take her back to bed. I’ll see you soon.” She whispers.

“Before you do, just know that I absolutely adore you and I swear I’m gonna make this birthday the best yet.” You say before ending the call. “Come on pipsqueak let’s go to bed.”

“Where’s mama?” Fin asks sleepily.

“She’s with her mama.” You sighed.

“Ohh.” She yawned.

You lay down and Fin cuddled into your side. “I love you papa.”

“I love you too Finny. To the moon and back.”

Don’t forget to like comment and reblog 😘

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: language, violence, oral (male receiving)

Chapter Word Count: 5306

—-MDNI—-

A/N: kind of an odd chapter tbh, there was a few things that I wanted to write so it felt best to squeeze them all in together. I want to start getting into the romance side of things with Dean, so I guess that starts here. Also I’ve been away sick so I’ve added a bit of spiciness.

New readers start here: Prologue

Previous Chapter: Chapter 13

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 14

I grasped the hanger off the rail and slung the pair of flared jeans over my arm to join the other items I was purchasing. Dean had been kind enough to give me a hundred bucks in cash - God knows where from - to get myself whatever I needed whilst he and Sam sauntered off to the menswear stores. As I browsed, lifting a crocheted crop top up before scrunching my nose at the thought of how little it would cover, the bell to the store jingled as someone else walked in. I heard footsteps slowly pace down the short aisle I was in, and as I placed the top back on the rail, I almost jumped out of my skin as someone started talking.

“Oh hey, it's (Y/n) right? You're bunking with the Winchester boys?”

I snapped my head up at the female voice, not expecting anyone out here but Sam and Dean to know my name. My eyes met a pair of warm brown ones, faint crows feet in the corners from years of joy and smiles. I recognised her; she was the short haired woman in the bunker kitchen the night we got back from the strip club.

“Uuhhhh ye- yes! You know Sam and Dean?” My expression was clearly confused as she grinned and held out her hand.

“The names Jody Mills. I've known the boys for a while now - through hunting. It's a pleasure to meet you at last - I've heard great things about you,” I juggled the clothing in my arms and grasped her outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake. She seemed to grin at that.

“Oh, they talk about me? I had no idea,” I suddenly felt a little nervous, the knowledge that I've been the topic of conversations unbeknownst to myself made me sweat a little. Jody seemed to notice this.

“They've only had great things to say, so don't panic! Especially that boy Dean. Not sure how you've done it chick but you really got that wild card wrapped around your little finger,” she raised her eyebrows almost suggestively and I felt heat start to prickle my skin.

“Wh-what? No no no, he's not-” I watched as her head tilted in my direction, eyebrows still raised as a slight grin tugged on her lips. “Have I really?”

She hummed and nodded her head, starting to flick through the clothing rail that I'd been looking at before.

“I've known that boy a few years now, and I've never seen him run to anyone the way he ran to you that night you appeared in the kitchen, looking like a kicked kitten,” she smiled softly and squeezed my arm, “you're something special to him honey, so try not to break his heart.”

“Oh,” was all I managed to say, with what I can imagine was the dumbest look on my face as I felt myself getting redder by the second. A phone ringing suddenly pulled me from my dazed thoughts as Jody reached into her pocket and answered the call. She spoke in a sterner tone than what she'd used with me, and after a few words were exchanged she hung up and returned the device to her pocket.

“I've gotta get going, but I'll try and catch you all again later. I'm in the area for a bit so I'll try and pop by. It was lovely to meet you (Y/n),” she squeezed my arm one last time before turning to leave, the bell on the door signalling her departure. I stood for a moment, my mind spinning from what she'd said about Dean. There was absolutely no way that what she'd said was true. I mean, I beat the crap out of him when we first met, and we've bickered a lot. I guess we've not argued for a good few days. And we've had sex. Oh the sex. I bit my lip as thoughts of us tangled in his sheets came to mind. Not just thoughts, but memories. Like I said to him this morning, we're just fuck buddies. Right?

*

Leaving the store with two large paper bags in one hand and my phone in the other, I first dialled Sam to find out where he was down this stretch of high street. When it went to voicemail, I hung up and dialled Deans number instead. It rang and rang, and when I thought his was going to ring through as well, he finally answered.

“Hey sweetheart, what's up?”

“Hey, I'm finished getting what I need. Whereabouts are you?”

“Uhhh…” I heard him turn to the shop assistant and ask for the name of the store he was in before he relayed it to me.

“Cool, I'll be there in two minutes. See you soon.”

“See ya.”

And with a click I hung up and tucked my phone into my back pocket and walked no more than two hundred yards to get to where he was still trying on boots. As I gingerly walked in, well aware it was a men's store and I was currently the only woman in here, Deans head snapped to the door when the arrival bell jingled.

“Hey sweetheart, you're just in time! I have no idea what to get.”

I couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the thought of the great Dean Winchester getting stumped by the more domesticated side of life.

“Well I'm here to help,” I placed my bags on the bench next to his discarded jacket. “What are the options?”

We must've spent half an hour going over the ones he'd shortlisted, then he chose an entirely different pair anyway, unrelated to the ones he'd picked out for himself.

Leaving the store and a quick phone call between the brothers, we all concluded that now was the best time to stop for lunch. Dean and I made a quick trip back to Baby to drop off our bags, with Dean opting to sport his brand new boots in favour of his old and decrepit ones. It was a short walk back to the high street now that we were bag free, and I could see Sam a mile off - his tall frame loitering outside the chosen diner, the occasional woman walking past throwing a few looks his way. He, of course, was oblivious to those looks, and when he spotted us as we neared he offered a wave. He sprouted a wide, friendly grin as we came to stand next to him.

“You guys get everything you need?”

“Yep! Took Cinderella a while to find the right boots but we got there in the end,” I flashed Dean a playful smirk as he tilted his head in slight annoyance at the nickname, which pulled a light hearted laugh from Sam.

“Oh yeah? Well, at least I didn’t spend twenty bucks on a thrifted Carhartt hoodie.”

“Hey that is durable shit, it’s worth every penny.”

“You could've had one of mine, I don't wear hoodies much anymore.”

“I somehow feel like there'd be a catch with that.”

“Uuhh, I got my jacket, if anyone cares?” Sam decided to interject, and we both turned to look at him.

“Good for you Sammy.”

“Yeah, nice one Sam,” I looked around for a second, not seeing any bags, “where is it?”

He gave me a funny look.

“What?”

“Seriously?” He asked, looking between Dean and myself. I looked at the older Winchester and seemed to have the same questions I did.

“Guys, I’m wearing it. Did you seriously not notice?”

I bit my lip.

“It looks exactly the same,” Dean spoke my own thoughts out loud.

“Well I mean technically it is. But it's not all scuffed up. Look you can clearly tell it's new,” he gestured with his hands that were still in his pockets, flapping the jacket around like he was an elongated flying squirrel.

“Not really.”

“Nope,” Dean popped the ‘p’ before he walked past both of us, “come on guys I'm starving, can we just go in?”

*

A simple lunch in the diner turned into beers in the bar which somehow turned into karaoke followed by shots. The place was bustling - all tables and booths occupied and a permanent flow of people ordering drinks. Most of the guys were of similar tastes, donning boots and leather jackets whilst the few women that were there pranced around in short-shorts and low cut tops. I for one felt a little out of place. The three of us were lucky to snag a booth, albeit close to the small stage situated up front, and I’d tucked myself into the corner, cradling my rum and coke. Dean had left his jacket beside me whilst he’d ventured off to challenge a group of guys to a ‘friendly’ game of pool, his laugh occasionally flowing over the chatter and music towards where Sam and I were sitting.

“How long do you think it’ll be until they realise they’re being conned?” I quizzed, taking a gulp from my glass and letting the bubbles fizz on my tongue before swallowing. Sam chuckled, taking a second before answering.

“Uhhh I don’t think these guys will find out until tomorrow morning.” We both laughed, knowing full well that Dean will spend all night gloating about how great he is, how we should bow in respect of the swindle master. I was lost in thought for a moment, wondering how much money he would actually walk away with when Sam’s voice pulled me back to reality.

“(Y/n), can I ask you something?”

I took another gulp of my drink, knowing full well what that puppy-dog look in Sam’s eyes meant, that furrow in his brow only accentuating it.

“Sure, go ahead.”

He took a breath.

“Are you ok? Like, really ok? Because if I’m honest, if I saw someone who I thought was dead - that I used to be in love with - stand before me after years of believing I’d never see them again; I don’t think I would be ok.”

I fiddled with the hem of Deans shirt sleeve for a second, my brain swarming with every thought I’ve been avoiding since the other night and keeping every little buzz under lock and key. I hated to admit it, but I was afraid to open Pandora’s box for the fear of ice cold confrontation. It wasn’t the wisest option, but putting the skeletons back in their closet and throwing out the key was what I genuinely thought was best. I let out an emotionally exhausted sigh before slumping back in my seat.

“I’m not ok. It still feels like some sort of fucked up fever dream, but… but thinking about it isn’t going to make me feel any better. Talking about someone who’s been dead to me for years isn’t going to take this messed up feeling away. In my mind, there’s nothing to get over where he’s concerned. Yeah, he was my teenage sweetheart, but I’m a grown woman now with a whole new brain and a whole new heart,” I could’ve kicked myself for letting my eyes flick over to Dean.

Sam sighed, resting his elbows on the table, a small smile twitching on his lips.

“If you’re sure, because you know I’m always here if you want to talk.”

“I know, thanks Sam,” I gave him a soft smile, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “Although, just one thing…”

“What’s that?” He sat up straighter.

“I don’t think it’s Daniel as a person that has me feeling like this - I grieved him and moved on from him years ago. I think… I think it’s the thought of that soul crushing sorrow coming back that scares me the most. The kind of sorrow that makes you forget what day it is; that stops you from eating and going outside and taking care of yourself. It makes you lose friends and interest in hobbies. It makes the whole world look grey and lifeless. You feel so unbearably numb that you aren’t even sure why you’re alive anymore. It makes you want to die.”

“(Y/n)…” Sam seemed at a loss for any other words as he held my hand softly across the table, running his thumb gently over my knuckles. I took a deep breath before carrying on.

“I felt like that when I lost Daniel, but when I lost Bobby, I… I…” I felt my voice crack slightly, “when I lost Bobby it was so much worse, I genuinely never thought I’d be normal ever again. Luckily for me, Charlie found me,” I grinned, remembering her determination to piece me back together. I looked up from where our hands joined, meeting Sam’s gaze.

“The only way I’d go through any of that again would be if I was to lose you guys. I know it’s not been long, but for once I’ve found something that makes me want to get out of bed in the mornings. That shit is hard to find.”

We both took a moment, feeling the weight of my words as we shared a gaze. I knew from the way his brows drew together and that far away look in his eyes that he felt everything I’d said. He’d experienced it first hand. And he knew that he didn’t have to say much, if anything, to convey that he understood. Slowly pulling my hand out from under his and placing my palm over his knuckles, I gave a gentle squeeze before standing, letting him go and grasping my glass. I threw the last mouthful back, the liquid vigorously fizzing down my throat before warming my chest. As I swallowed, I held my glass up and raised an eyebrow at Sam.

“Well shit, would you look at that - my glass is empty. Guess I’m heading to the bar. You need a top up?”

“Yeah, please. Remind me to get the next round,” he grinned as I slid out the booth and headed towards the bar. As I waded through the crowd I passed the pool table, glancing over at Dean who was deeply engrossed in taking a player's hard earned money out of his grasp. I watched the smug grin spread over his lips as he counted then pocketed the cash.

I looked up to see an opening at the bar so I squeezed in, perching myself on a stale beer-scented barstool whilst I waited for the barman to notice me. After a couple of minutes of being served he placed the drinks before me and I paid on one of Deans ‘special’ credit cards, scooping all three glasses into my grasp - with an insane amount of skill - and turned to leave. The moment my ass left the seat cushion however I found myself toe-to-toe with a very tall and very rugged stranger, the smell of cigarettes and old leather wafting around him.

“Not seen you around these parts before doll; I know I’d recognise such a pretty face,” he had a grim smirk on his face and his voice was like sandpaper - rough but certainly not sexy. I tried to take a step back but only ended up seated back on the barstool.

“Just passing through,” I did my best to flash a polite smile in the hopes he would sense I didn’t want to have this conversation. No such luck.

“A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be in a place like this all alone. Things might…happen.”

A shudder ascended my spine into my neck and I tried my best to subtly shake it out before I gave into my more defensive side.

“Who the fuck do you think I am with this many drinks? They’re clearly not all mine… ergo, I have company.”

His gross grin widened, the subject of my statement clearly not settling correctly in the empty space between his ears.

“Getting feisty… I like it. Can’t get much better than a little thing with a mouth.”

I shuddered again.

“What part of ‘I have company’ do you not fucking understand? And even if I was alone, I definitely wouldn’t be going anywhere with you.”

His grimy smirk faltered slightly, finally absorbing some of my words that seemed to be floating in the air around his thick skull.

“Aw don’t be like that.”

“Oh I’m gonna ‘be like that’ until you leave me the fuck alone.”

He took a lumbering step forwards, pushing me further onto the barstool.

“See now there’s a point when a mouth on a pretty thing becomes down right obnoxious, and you’re nearing that point sweetheart.”

“Don’t you fucking ‘sweetheart’ me you dick,” I was mentally preparing to buy another round of drinks as the thought of throwing these three at this asshole was becoming sweeter by the second, and people were starting to watch on but there wasn’t a single white knight in sight.

“Well now you’ve just crossed that line,” the second I saw him start to raise his arms my instincts kicked in and I gave into my previous thought and doused him in liquor, the amber liquid running down his face and neck and soaking into his clothes. He looked down at himself in disbelief before lifting his head back up, this time baring his teeth and raising his hand as if to slap me. I reflexively raised my arms and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for impact.

“You stupid bitch.”

“If you touch a hair on her goddamn head ‘imma put you six feet under.”

My eyes shot open and I lowered my hands to see a seething Dean Winchester, a single strong hand wrapped around my harasser's wrist.

“Who the fuck are you?”

The faintest smirk pulled at the corner of Deans mouth before disappearing as quickly as it appeared, leaving nothing but quiet rage burning across his features.

“I’m about to be your biggest fucking problem.”

Before the asshole could even react Deans hand went from twelve O’clock to six O’clock in half a second with a sickening snap, breaking the jerks elbow with deadly skill. Practised skill. Whilst my harasser cried out and cradled his limp arm, Dean let go of him before a few of the onlookers gave Dean a nod of approval before escorting the creep out. Once he knew he was out of the building, Dean turned to me, softly grasping my chin between his thumb and index finger.

“Are you ok? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” He tilted my face left and right, scrutinising over my unharmed skin. When he was sure that there wasn’t a scratch on me he let go, relief flooding his gaze as he sighed.

“Dean I’m fine, I promise,” I reached up, fingers hesitantly grazing his stubbled cheek before I thought better of it and dropped my hand to his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“I swear to God (Y/n), if he’d laid a finger on you he’d get a lot more than a busted elbow,” his hand came to rest on my bicep, his long fingers gently wrapping around my arm in subconscious comfort, almost pulling me towards him. My own hand seemed to slide down from his shoulder to rest softly on his chest, my fingertips feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath.

“I know,” I reassured, giving him a little smile to which he returned. I felt my soft smile turn mischievous as thoughts started conjuring in my mind.

“Come on, Sam is waiting for another drink, let's order and get back to the table.”

The bartender had seen Dean step in to help me, so luckily for us this round was on the house. As we slid into the booth opposite Sam I slid his drink over to him.

“What happened back there?” He asked, mildly concerned.

“Just some asshole thinking I was gonna leave this place with him,” I sighed, sitting down, Dean taking his seat beside me. Sam's eyes flicked between the two of us.

“I'm sure I saw him leave with his arm all out of shape, was that-”

“Yeah well, shrimp-dick had it coming,” Dean was doing his best to act nonchalant, however the moment our eyes met over the top of our drinks we couldn't stop the giggles from tumbling out.

“Guys, Dean, you can't go around breaking elbows-”

“Relax Sammy. No one's gonna say anything, they all saw him acting like a creep. Just didn't have the balls to step in. Anyway,” a darker look clouded his eyes as his gaze bore into his younger brother, “he was harassing our girl, Sam. Ain't no way in Hell I was gonna let that slide.”

There was a moment of thick silence before Sam nodded, finally agreeing with Deans actions, knowing that if it had come down to it, he might've done the same. I raised my glass to my lips, taking a long sip before placing it back on the table, looking between the boys as they continued to have some sort of silent conversation that I wasn't a part of. The mischievous thoughts from earlier kept bubbling in my mind, and it didn't take any self-convincing for me to act on them. I shuffled slightly closer to Dean, not enough to draw attention to myself but enough to be in touching distance. I glanced up at him, making sure he was totally unaware and focused on his drink before I reached out slowly, letting my soft fingertips glide over the rough denim of his jeans. I glanced up at him when I heard him inhale his drink, spluttering slightly as I squeezed the inside of his thigh. I traced the length of his inseam, watching his grip on his glass tighten, the tanned skin over his knuckles paling.

“You ok there?” I asked, feigning concern with a quirk of a brow.

“Oh I'm just peachy sweetheart,” his voice came out low, lower than I think he was expecting it to as his eyes nervously darted to Sam who was too busy opening his laptop to notice. Dean leant back on the bench, the worn leather creaking under his weight. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, pausing for a moment before lifting his arm closest to me, as though inviting me to sit closer. Eager to oblige I scooted towards him, nibbling my bottom lip when I felt his large hand rest softly on my back, subconsciously pulling me in. I crossed one leg over the other, turning into him slightly, tilting my head to get a better look at his face.

“I think I left something in the car, would you mind coming with me whilst I grab it?”

He looked a little puzzled for a moment before shotting the last of his whiskey and nodding his head.

“Sure thing,” he turned to his brother, “hey Sammy, we’ll be back in a few.”

Sam grunted a reply, too lost in the article he was reading to pay much attention to us. Dean slid out of the booth and held his hand out to me, which I grasped. His long rough fingers enveloped my hand as he pulled me to my feet. Leaving his jacket behind, we left the bar and made our way to the impala.

The night air had turned chilly, biting at my flushed cheeks as we paced across the lot, taking all of about thirty seconds to reach the impala. Dean was a few steps ahead of me, having unlocked the rear passenger door by the time I'd arrived.

“There you are, grab what you ne- whoa!”

He was caught off guard when I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him down into the car, his broad form filling the space in the back with ease. I climbed in after him, closing the door and crawling along the back bench towards him. It took a moment, but Dean eventually caught on.

“Oh, I’m liking where this is going.”

I chewed at my bottom lip, watching him settle beneath me as he propped up slightly on his elbows, the fabric of his T-shirt stretching thin over his muscular chest.

“I wanted to thank you for being my hero. That’s the second time you’ve rescued me - I wanted to thank you properly. You know, to really show my appreciation.”

It was Deans turn to pull his bottom lip between his teeth, the corners of his plush lips turning up.

“You know, I’m starting to think you might be trouble,” his voice was getting lower with every word, each syllable rumbling in his chest and vibrating into my fingertips.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, feeling some truth to them as I scooted down the bench to sit between his legs before slipping into the large footwell. I patted the seat in front of me, and it didn’t even take a second for Dean to slide himself into it, sitting up straight. As I sat between his knees and looked up at him, I couldn’t help but marvel at the sight; the way the streetlights painted his face in warm amber, softening his battle-hardened features and reflecting in his eyes like dancing embers from a stoked fire. The shadows didn’t seem contradictory - the darkness we were sitting in was far from cold. Dean Winchester was not an artistic man by any means, but he himself was certainly a masterpiece.

I reached up and unbuckled his belt along with the button on his jeans, carefully dragging the zipper down after and tugging the thick fabric along with his boxers off his hips; just enough to dip my hand in and pull out his cock, already hot and heavy in my palm. He made an almost strained noise on contact and my stomach fluttered at the thought of him being so sensitive. So sensitive at my mercy. I adjusted my grip on him before going up and down, once… twice… three times… over and over at a sinfully slow pace. His hands gripped his thighs like they had nowhere else to go, and when I looked up he was watching every move I was making with knotted brows and parted lips. His eyes only found mine when I straightened my back and leant forwards, gliding my tongue up the thick length of him but avoiding the tip. Mimicking my hand, I licked up and down again and again, ever so slowly gaining speed before I finally dragged my tongue over his tip and plunged his whole cock down my throat.

“Oh fuck,” Dean gasped out, his large palms flying to my hair - long fingers knotting with the soft strands. I could tell he wanted nothing more than to shove my head down as far as it would go, but his self restraint shone through. I started to move, slowly at first, head bobbing without missing a beat. The feeling of his cock pressing against the back of my throat over and over was fine at first, but the longer I sucked him off the urge to gag grew. The size of Deans cock was not something to be taken lightly, and after a couple of minutes the impending gag hit and I pulled him out of my mouth.

“Shit, (Y/n)… How are you so good at this?” He hissed out in a breath I’m sure he’d been holding since I'd started. I assumed the question was rhetorical as I gave him a few pumps, swallowing the excess spit and precum on my tongue before leaning back in. One by one I placed hot, wet kisses up his length, placing the final one on his tip before I pulled it back into my mouth. With the new found sensitivity of my gag reflex ever-present, I avoided taking him too far down my throat, this time using one hand to reach where my mouth couldn't at his base. Adding a little twist, I felt his grip tighten once again in my hair, his long fingers absently scooping loose strands away from my face. The combination of feeling him lose his mind beneath me and the tenderness of his touch sent a flutter to my heart which quickly travelled south at the sound of his euphoric groan, his head lolling back and eyes closing. As I pressed my tongue to the large vein scaling his length I could feel his rapid pulse, my own heart rate almost as fast as his. As I continued to bob my head, I could feel him gather all my hair in one hand, his other softy tracing down over my temple, my cheek and my lips before stopping at my chin, a single swipe from his thumb removing most if the spit and precum that was threatening to stream down my neck. I would consider my next move a grave mistake - looking up through my damp lashes to meet Deans white-hot gaze fixated and fascinated with every little motion I made. The blissed-out look in his eyes could have turned a weaker woman into a puddle right then and there, and I surprised myself with my own resilience. He continued to hold me with one hand in my hair and a soft grip on my chin, my own free hand moving to grip him near the inside of his thigh. Another soft moan slipped from his lips as I started to speed up, not caring for the ache in my jaw or mess he was now too preoccupied to swipe away. I was surprised when no words left Deans lips, his usual blasphemous language replaced with velvety moans of pleasure. I could tell he was nearing his peak when his cock twitched between my lips, again and again before before he finally groaned out a strained:

“Fuck, oh shit.”

His grip tightened, like he was trying to pull me off him, however when that telltale throb made his cock graze the back of my throat I removed my hand from his base and enveloped him in his entirety, a final, breathy gasp and groan tumbling from Deans lips before the sensation of warm, viscous liquid spilled across the back of my tongue. It took a moment for the ropes to stop coming, and when they did I pulled him from my mouth slowly, looking up at his breathless form. Not taking my eyes from his, I parted my lips slightly to show his cum, glazing my tongue, before closing my mouth and swallowing the thick liquid down. He let out another groan, his grip finally releasing my hair as he ran his hands over his face, taking a moment for his eyes to find mine again.

“Holy shit, sweetheart… I feel like I just died and went to heaven.”

I couldn't stop the stupid giggle spilling from my lips as I wiped the spit from my lips and chin with the bottom of Deans shirt that I was wearing.

“For a moment there I thought you had too.”

He grinned down at me, perhaps a little bashful as he tucked himself back into his pants and refastened his belt. As he finished up, a few moments of silence hung over us as I still remained nestled between his strong thighs. His eyes met mine and they seemed to hold a thousand words that he wanted to say, and when nothing came from his lips he simply held out his hand to pull me into his lap. Just as my fingers grazed his, however, there was a loud rap at the window which spooked both of us out of our skin.

“Motherfucker,” Dean muttered before rolling down the window, and a small wave of guilt and embarrassment washed over me when I heard Sam's disbelieving yet humoured voice coming from outside.

“Guys are you fucking serious?!”

——————————————————————

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hobby27 @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @feyresqueen @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @spookyysinsanity @safiyas-world @uncle-eggy @happyt0exist @supernaturalstilinski @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[ckret2]

Chapter 14 of Human Bill Is A Prisoner And Only Mabel Is Being Nice To Him (real title TBD), and the conclusion of the first big plot arc:

Also featuring: what Pacifica has been up to the past year! Dipper and Mabel arguing about Bill! The hand witch, briefly! Funny pranks that Ford does not think are funny! And other things.

####

Dipper and Mabel waved goodbye as they left the Hand Witch's cave. The witch, her boyfriend, and Mabel's spare right hand on the witch's shoulder waved back.

"Thanks for helping us out on such short notice," Dipper said.

"Oh, any time!" the witch said. "Come back whenever you like! I'll make tea and snacks again."

"Girl, you know I'm always up for more of your..." Mabel flashed the witch a pair of finger guns and a wink, "... finger food!"

Her spare hand made a finger gun back. The witch laughed so hard she wheezed. Her boyfriend leaned down to pat her back.

As Mabel and Dipper wove their way down the Hand Witch's mountain, Mabel said, "It's good to see she's found a relationship. She seems happy! And less desperate."

"I dunno, I'm kind of worried about that guy. What if he's just using her to learn her handomancy secrets?"

"Naaah, I'm not worried about him. He's a really bad apprentice. I think he's just letting her train him as a bonding activity. Like when girls let their boyfriends explain football so they can watch games together." Mabel turned to peer at the dark cave above. "Do you think Alehandra will be lonely without me?"

"Wh—you already named it?"

"Hands come in pairs, Dipper. Maybe she'd like a twin sister." She looked at Dipper's hands. "Or brother."

"Oh no. Uh-uh, I can see where this is going. We've already gotten in enough trouble with that stuff."

Mabel's phone buzzed. They must have gotten near enough town to get reception again. She pulled out her phone, saw a text from Soos, and swiped it open. "Mabel, this is Ford..."

"Speaking of growing extra hands," Dipper said. "Mabel... I think this whole thing is a bad idea. I mean—worse than it was originally. Getting Bill magic hair growth formula is one thing, but, growing extra limbs? I don't know what he could do with that, but he could do something."

Mabel's thumbs hovered over the screen, paralyzed as she tried to figure out what to tell Ford and Dipper at the same time.

The truth was, she'd had the same worry as Dipper. She lowered her phone. "Yeah, okay, maybe he could possibly do something with it hypothetically—but clearly the whole reason he asked for it was for the hair growth part! Because he's bald. So maybe he just... doesn't care about the rest? If we get only enough Hairy Fairy to regrow his hair and use it all up, then he won't have a chance to use it for anything evil, right?"

"Unless he's not even interested in regrowing his hair." Dipper pulled off his backpack and rummaging through it until he found the advertisement Ford had given him. "Look, everything in this ad lines up with what Bill told us about Hairy Fairy's history. If he knew that much, he definitely could know it can grow extra limbs. He might have even known it was coming back on the market before he saw the commercial! What if the only reason he burned off his hair was to manipulate us into getting this formula?"

"What would he do with a bunch of extra body parts?" Mabel asked. "He's clumsy enough with the ones he already has. I kinda think more would make him weaker."

"I don't know, but—I didn't know what he wanted a 'puppet' for, either, and see how that turned out?"

Mabel bit her lip, looking at Dipper's face—and then looked down at her phone, rereading the last sentence of Ford's text. "I'm worried he might be up to something nefarious."

She couldn't have this conversation in two places at once. She typed a quick reply to Ford—"It's too complicated to explain in text! I'll tell you when Dipper and I get home. (It's NOT dangerous, don't worry!) ❤️"—and stuffed her phone in her pocket. "Okay," she said. "Look. Sure, it makes sense to be extra paranoid with Bill—especially when we saw him finish his big master plan last summer—but honestly? I kinda don't think he's that good. Think about how many times Grunkle Ford says he tried and failed to get into our universe! I don't think he's a big alien super-genius with a careful zillion-year plan; I think he's just some guy that needed to try a zillion years just to get one plan to work. And that's... kind of lame. What can a guy like that do with hair formula?"

Dipper absorbed that. "Wow. Yeah, actually, when you put it that way, that—that isn't very impressive." He grimaced. "But—okay, even if he didn't have a complicated escape plan, what if he saw the hair formula and thought of one that he needs extra arms for—?"

"Dipper, we can 'but what if' Bill forever!" She flung out her hands in frustration. "If we second-guess everything he says, we'll start wondering stuff like 'what if he wants us to distrust him so he can reverse-psychology us into doing the thing he actually wants?' It'll drive us crazy! And letting Bill drive us crazy won't make us safer! We can't spend another summer being paranoid about Evil Bill Tricks!"

"Okay yeah, you have a point, but—why is the solution 'do what he wants'? Why isn't it 'tell him no, and cover our ears whenever he tries to say he wants something so we don't even know what he wants and he can't manipulate us'?"

Mabel's mind flashed back to the sad ghost under the zodiac blanket, huddled in a dusty corner. She looked at her feet and kicked a clump of grass self-consciously. "Because... he's sad and it's making me sad."

Dipper groaned. "Mabel."

"I know—"

"Mabel, he could be acting sad on purpose—"

"I know he could, I know, I KNOW!" Mabel let out all her accumulated Bill-induced frustration in a scream that startled several birds out of a nearby tree. She jumped furiously on the clump of grass. "He probably thinks I'm a big soft sucker! He's the worst and I hate him so much!"

"YES!" Dipper aimed a kick at the grass clump. "He's the worst ever! It's his fault we're even having this argument!"

"This summer was supposed to be different!"

"No apocalypses, no murder attempts, and no demon triangles!"

"No triangles at ALL! I don't even like geometry!"

When they'd collaboratively destroyed the grass clump, they fell silent, breathing heavily, staring at the upturned dirt. "I needed that," Mabel said. After a moment, she knelt down and tried to set the mangled grass back upright. The grass did nothing to deserve this.

Dipper leaned against a tree. "So. Are we giving up on the hair stuff?"

Mabel carefully patted a mound of dirt around what was left of the base of the grass. "I... still wanna go through with it."

Dipper had used up all his frustration on the grass. He sighed. "If you're gonna get that stuff for Bill no matter what I say, then... why are you trying to talk me into it?"

"Because I'm not going to do it. Not unless you agree."

"You... what?"

"Dipper, I feel like this is the right thing to do—but that's why I need to know what you think. The last time we didn't talk things out, the world almost ended! We always make better decisions together than we do apart. If I can't say anything that makes you think it's worth the risk, then—I'll give up. I'll tell Bill we couldn't get the stuff, and offer to get him a discount wig after Summerween, and... that's it." Mabel shrugged. "I'm scared too. I keep wondering stuff like 'what if he gives himself leg stilts and climbs out the chimney? What if he grows seven fingers and can finally overpower Ford?' But that's stupid."

She looked up at Dipper. "I want to make sure that if we give up, it's because there really is a danger. I don't want to refuse to help somebody suffering just because we're scared of him."

Dipper slid down to sit on the grass and watch Mabel give the grass clump first aid. Once Mabel was satisfied enough to sit back and wipe her hands off on her skirt, Dipper said, "Yeah. I am scared of him. He's tricked me with some misleading wording before, and I don't want it to happen again. I want to say I'm just being logical, but... right now, maybe I'm doing more feeling than thinking, too." He shrugged. "The truth is, I can't think of anything he could do with the hair growth formula that isn't so ridiculous, even I don't believe it's possible."

Mabel nodded. "Are you scared enough to say 'no'? If you are, we'll quit."

"No, I'm not." Dipper heaved a sigh. "I guess... let's do it. But I want to be as careful as possible. We'll get just barely enough to regrow his hair, one of us will apply the formula so he can't misuse it—"

"I can do that," Mabel said. "I've already slathered like a whole bucket of yellow paint on his face."

"Okay. And I'll watch the whole time as backup, in case he tries anything."

"Barty can watch from the vents as the backup-backup, too!"

"Good idea."

"Boom! Flawless plan!" Mabel grinned. "Now let's go see Pacifica!"

####

The address Pacifica had given them led to a small fenced-in pasture outside town.

Over the main gate was a sign that read "Platinum Alpaca Estates".

In the pasture, a half dozen pink-collar-wearing alpacas placidly grazed.

And standing in front of it all—wearing immaculately tailored lavender overalls, a set of white rhinestone-studded boots and cowboy hat, and a nervous smile—was Pacifica.

Dipper and Mabel gaped.

Dipper said, "What the— What is—"

"Pacifica what."

Pacifica held up her hands. "Okay wait, just let me explain! After my family lost our mansion last year, I could only keep one horse? Which was devastating! I needed to fill the void of hoofed mammals in my life somehow."

Mabel leaned over the fence. "So you got alpacas?"

"I was actually inspired by the llama sweater you gave me." Pacifica gave Mabel a small, crooked smile. "It reminded me that I've always secretly thought alpacas are cute, and I really like alpaca wool goods, so I thought... you know... what if I try it out?" She opened the gate, gesturing for the twins to follow her toward a small barn. "And I actually really love it! These are like, my babies. And I'm talking with some fashion brands about maybe selling them some luxury wool?"

She led them into the barn, and then into a small office being cooled by a window A/C unit. Several wool garments, protected in glass cases, were proudly displayed on the walls with labels underneath: "First Sweater", "First Scarf", "First Blanket"—

"Hey!" Mabel pointed at the familiar blanket, creamy white with the anti-Bill zodiac in ochre yellow. "That's the one I made! Did the yarn you sent me to make it come from your alpacas?"

"It did! You're the first person to make anything with their wool."

"Whoa."

"I actually want to use my symbol from the circle as our brand. I'm waiting to hear from my copyright lawyer about who I need to talk to for the rights to the image—if it's you or your great-uncle, or if it's still with the tribe that left the valley like a thousand years ago, or if it's public domain," Pacifica said. "It's a vague enough shape, I think it could look like either a llama or an alpaca, right?"

Mabel considered what Bill had said about Pacifica's symbol, considered the small alpaca herd visible through the office window, and said, "I have it on good authority that it's supposed to be an alpaca."

"So, wait," Dipper said. "What does this have to do with your modeling job?"

"The ranch isn't turning a profit yet. I'm still in talks with the brands that want our wool, and in the meantime I've got to hire more people to help. I don't know the hard stuff about taking care of alpacas, I just kind of brush their wool and make friends with them while my employees do the hard stuff."

Dipper snorted.

"Hey! I'm learning! But I've only been doing this a few months." Pacifica sank down into her desk chair, propping her chin in her hands. "Almost all my allowance and side gig income is going toward my alpacas. My parents don't want to invest in my startup!" She pouted. "They said if I want to act like a rancher instead of a socialite, it'll be on my own dime."

"So that's why you're working two summer jobs?" Dipper said. "Oh, man. I should have known something was up. I thought it was weird when you said your parents wouldn't pay for a spring and summer wardrobe."

"Yeah, I spent my spring wardrobe budget on this barn," Pacifica said. "I figure I'm investing in my future wardrobe, you know?"

Mabel planted her hands on Pacifica's desk. "Pacifica, I can see how important this is. I've run a business myself—I appreciate the pressure you're under. But, how about this: we could help each other! If you get us a tiiiny bit of that formula, I'll come over once a week for the rest of summer to help out with your alpacas. For free!"

Pacifica blinked. "What?"

"And that way, even if you do get in trouble and lose your Hairy Fairy job, you'll still have someone to help you out!"

Dipper's eyes widened. "Um—Pacifica, could you give us a moment?" He grabbed Mabel's elbow and tugged her out of the office.

"What is it?"

Dipper whispered, "Are you sure you wanna make that kind of commitment for the rest of summer? For Bill's sake?"

"Dipperrr, it's like working in a petting zoo!" She gestured toward the office window. "Look at how soft they are!"

"Oh, boy."

"And maybe I could get some luxury alpaca wool! I'm gonna have the fanciest sweaters."

Dipper grimaced, but decided Mabel would probably have looked for an excuse to spend time around the alpacas regardless of the situation. "Okay. Have at her." He nodded back toward the office.

When Mabel and Dipper came back in, Pacifica was sitting up straighter, hands laced on her desk, a miniature businesswoman entertaining a business proposal. "I appreciate the offer," Pacifica said. "But I don't think a few hours of labor a week balance out the profits I could make at my modeling job. It just doesn't make financial sense. I'm sorry, Mabel. I've got to think of my alpacas."

"I understand. But—I've got to think of my not-friend. If you could just see..." She trailed off as a thought occurred to her. "Dipper! Let me get in your backpack."

"Um, okay—?"

Mabel rummaged around in the main pouch. "I'm sure we left it... Ha!" She slapped down a ziplock bag containing the lock of Bill's hair that they'd collected to make his poppet. "This... is the person I'm trying to help." She crossed her arms triumphantly. "Okay, not the person, but it's his hair anyway."

Pacifica's brows shot up. "Oh, wow." She opened the bag and carefully extracted a few strands to examine. "This is the most golden golden hair I've ever seen. And look at it. Little oily, could use a good conditioner, damaged roots, but otherwise amazing health, no split ends..." Pacifica looked at Mabel, pointed at the baggie, and asked, "Virgin?"

Mabel laughed nervously. "I have no idea and I never ever want to find out."

"No! I mean is this the natural color and texture, or has it been treated?"

"Oh. I'm pretty sure it just came like that?" She looked at Dipper.

Dipper shrugged. "I mean, probably? I doubt he hit up a salon before coming to the Mystery Shack."

"And... you say he had a bad haircut?" Pacifica asked. "What does he look like now?"

Gently, Mabel said, "Bald."

Pacifica let out the softest gasp. "Okay. I get it. I'll help. And also send over a couple of conditioner samplers, because whoever your friend is, he has not been taking care of his hair lately. Natural beauty can only carry him so far. I'll have the conditioners overnighted to your shack."

"Great!" A wide smile broke out across Mabel's face. "Thank you so much, Pacifica! And the formula, too?"

"Actually, I can give you that right now." Pacifica pulled a small green Hairy Fairy bottle from one of her overall pockets.

Mabel gasped in delight. Dipper said, "Wait, you had that the whole time?"

"When we escaped the country club, I accidentally still had the bottle we'd used for the live demonstration in my pocket," Pacifica said. "I was going to replace it tomorrow morning before anyone goes looking for it; I'll just give you guys a few drops and make up the difference with a little alpaca shampoo. Hopefully, nobody will notice the difference."

Mabel said, "Pacifica, you're the best!"

"I know." Pacifica leaned across the desk to put a hand on Mabel's shoulder. "Just promise me one thing."

"Sure! What?"

"I won't be able to do this a second time," Pacifica said. "So you'd better make sure your friend takes care of his hair."

####

Bill squinted at the chocolate chip-sized dollop of lotion at the bottom of the quart-sized plastic food container. "Gotta hand it to you, Shooting Star. This is the funniest way you could have transported the formula."

"We forgot to bring anything to put it in." Mabel snapped on a pair of yellow dish gloves and pointed at the kitchen floor. "Okay! Sit down so I can reach and let me work my magic."

"What, don't think I can handle it myself?" But he sat down even as he protested. He'd already removed his cardboard triangle helmet—which now sat, battered and bent, on the kitchen table—and had washed off his paint/makeup as well as he could without requesting shower access.

Mabels scooped the dollop of lotion onto one gloved finger, then massaged it across her fingertips. "I'm your official makeup artist now! I've gotta do it. Besides, you missed a chunk of hair when you were removing it, you'd probably miss a chunk when you were putting it back on."

"Eh, fair enough. Okay kid, do your worst."

As Mabel coated Bill's scalp, the chemical burns he'd given himself while removing his hair vanished, replaced with new healthy skin—and Dipper quietly lamented, once again, that this stuff was being marketed to grow hair and not regrow limbs. He'd have to document it thoroughly in his journal later.

Dipper was sitting at the bottom of the attic stairs, watching the proceedings in the kitchen, armed with Mabel's grappling gun to use as a projectile weapon if Bill dared try anything. But Bill just sat there, legs crossed with his feet on his thighs and his hands palm-up on his knees like he was meditating, not even turning his head as Mabel worked.

Mabel jerked her hands back in surprise as a fresh layer of golden hair sprang out of Bill's scalp—then quickly reached in again, massaging the lotion into all the strands and coaxing them out until they were all around shoulder length, the same as they'd started. "There! Ta-da! Good as new!"

As the hair crawled down Bill's temples, tickled his ears, brushed his cheeks, he squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could and clenched his jaw, straining hard to keep from moving. His open hands curled into fists. Dipper raised the grappling hook. But when Bill turned to face Mabel, he was all grins again, and if Dipper hadn't known to look for it he wouldn't have noticed the anxious tic in Bill's eyebrow. "Well? How do I look?"

"Gorgeous! If the real Goldilocks saw you, she'd have to change her name in shame."

"Ha! That's what I like to hear!" Bill un-pretzeled his legs and stood up. "And you did it without giving me any spare eyebrows, too." So he did know about the side-effects.

"Oh, pfff, yeah, I'm not lowering my guard around that stuff again. The first time I opened a bottle, I got some on me and grew an extra hand!"

"No! Really?" Bill gave Mabel's gloved hands a skeptical look. "Where's it now?"

"I donated it to the Hand Witch."

"Ahh, pity. You could've had some fun with your temporary crown."

"'Crown'?"

"Most fingers in the household?"

Mabel's eyes bugged out, and then a manic smile took over her face, as if her brain had just been flooded with more glee than her face could process. She yanked off the gloves, hastily rubbed them on her left wrist, and shouted, "GRUNKLE FOOORD!" She sprinted through the entryway and took the turn down the hallway so fast she ran a couple steps up on the wall before landing back on the floor. "Grunkle Ford, guess what!"

Dipper almost followed her—until he caught Bill moving in the corner of his eye, bending down to pick up the discarded gloves. Dipper raised the grappling hook. What was Bill planning to do with them—use the remainder to mutate himself? Save them to use later? Eat them—?

Bill dropped the gloves in the plastic container the lotion had come in, sealed the lid, and dropped them in the kitchen waste bin. Under his breath, he muttered, "The last thing I need is the pig sniffing this and growing an extra snout." He paused. "Wait. That would be funny."

From the other side of the house, Ford's voice bellowed, "BILL!"

Bill's head snapped around to face the kitchen doorway—and for the first time he glanced at Dipper sitting on the stairs. "Hey. What do you bet he didn't even let Mabel explain before deciding this is my fault?"

"Uh..."

Mabel and Ford's approach could be tracked through Mabel's hasty explanation: "Grunkle Ford, it's just a prank! I'm okay, see? I'm gonna donate Mirhanda to the Hand Witch, it'll be fine—"

The moment Ford saw Bill, he made a beeline for him and seized him by his t-shirt collar. "What did you do to her?! Answer me, Cipher!"

"I didn't! I'm innocent! I plea the fifth! I've been falsely accused! I was framed! Mercy!" The sincerity of his pleas was somewhat undermined by the fact that he couldn't stop laughing the whole time Ford was trying to menace him. His too-wide gleeful smile looked a lot like Mabel's.

####

"Okay, Pacifica," the director said. "This commercial is for the teen market, so we want you to talk to the camera like you're talking to your peers, all right? And by that, I don't mean your real peers. I mean the slightly less rich girls who would do anything you asked to be considered one of your peers."

"Don't worry, I've got this," Pacifica said. She positioned herself on her stool, hands laced over her knees, and said, "Ready when you are."

"And... action!"

Pacifica gave the camera her best haughty-but-not-too-haughty look, the one that said maybe if you say something interesting to me I'll double your social standing for fun, and launched into her memorized lines: "Hey, I'm Pacifica Northwest—you all know me, most of you probably want to be me. Listen, girls: have you ever tried to go short and it just didn't work out? Maybe that pixie cut makes your ears look weird, maybe those bangs are not for you. If you wish you looked as great as me, I have just the thing for you..."

Everything continued as normal, until Harry's Hairy Fairy Formula was applied to her hair... and nothing happened. Pacifica stumbled over a word, and then kept going, as if maybe no one would notice if she didn't draw attention to it. As she was wrapping up her monologue, her hair finally... slowly started growing... and stopped at half its usual length. Pacifica bit her lip.

"Pacifica!"

She winced and turned toward her boss, feigning a look of innocent surprise. "Yes, Mr. Haroldson?"

"What did you put in your hair! You know you're not supposed to have any product in your hair on shoot days!"

"Nothinggg! I've been following my hair care instructions perfectly! And I had it rinsed just before the shoot like always!"

"Well—what's the problem, then?" Mr. Haroldson turned to the hazmat-suited hairdresser holding the formula bottle.

"I don't know." He took off his mask. "This is the same sample bottle we used at the country club demonstration, it should be fine..." He took a sniff of it, and grimaced. "What...? That's not our usual fragrance, is it?" Mr. Haroldson leaned over to sniff as well.

She'd been found out. She was doomed. Her poker face collapsed like a house of cards. "Okay fine I took a few drops for a friend and maybe replaced it with a little bit of shampoo, so what!" She pointed at Mr. Haroldson. "What are you gonna do about it, huh? Fire me? Go ahead, see if I care! I can get a million better modeling jobs in a week!"

Mr. Haroldson's expression darkened in rage—and then he said, "Pacifica, you're a genius!"

"Huh?"

"Watering it down! Of course! We can sell unaltered bottles to hook new customers and then stretch out our supply by giving repeat customers the weak stuff—we'll tell them that it's less effective if they're overusing it! We can keep up that scam for years, it's not like the FDA is regulating this stuff! Why, we could even make a whole new product!" He turned to wave at an assistant, "Call R&D, get R&D on the phone—we'll make a formula designed to grow short hair. We can call it... Pixie Dust Pixie Cuts! It's all thanks to you, Pacifica!" He beamed at her.

She beamed back.

He said, "You're not getting credit or a raise though."

"Pshhh, obviously. I know how this industry works."

"All right, back to work." He pointed at the director. "Crack open a new bottle and let's wrap this up ASAP. I've got to schedule some meetings about the new product line."

####

"Well, he didn't grow himself eight arms," Dipper said, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He was going over a map of Gravity Falls he'd taken from the gift shop, circling locations of potential paranormal activity he wanted to investigate over the summer. Bill-tainted places got an additional triangle. "And I took out the kitchen trash to make sure Bill couldn't go back for the formula later. I guess he wasn't up to anything after all." He paused. "... Unless he wanted the formula in our trash, and now it's multiplying the garbage or getting picked up by some sleeper agent outside the shack—"

"Stooop," Mabel said. She was carefully coloring in a green bottle of Harry's Hairy Fairy Formula in Dipper's journal; Dipper had started entrusting his journal's art duties to Mabel whenever they went on a joint investigation. "We can't start thinking like that! Remember, our therapist told us that paranoia is a natural coping mechanism for dealing with scary situations, but trusting people is healthy and a sign of healing!" She set down the journal so she could emphasize the word "healing" with jazz hands.

"I think that's supposed to apply to trusting normal people."

"Yeah, but still." The journal flipped a few pages as she picked it back up, and her eyes were caught by scribbles in bright highlighter yellow. "Hey, what's this new stuff? Did you make up a secret code to keep notes in? Can I learn?"

"Ugh. No, Bill did that. I left my journal out and he wrote a bunch of secret messages. It's probably telling me how I'm going to die or the names of all the girls who will reject me or something."

"Pff, probably. Have you shown Grunkle Ford? Maybe he knows it."

"Not yet. He's been too busy."

"Right..." And now, she was sure, he was probably mad at her personally for worrying him with the hand prank.

Mabel flipped through a few more pages, looking at the bright yellow notes. She glanced toward the window, scanning the trees outside. She sighed and got up, leaving Dipper's journal on her bed.

"What's up?"

"Now you've got me worrying about sleeper agents. I'm gonna make sure the gloves are still in the trash."

When she'd confirmed all the garbage was right where it was supposed to be and came back in the shack, she spotted Bill in the living room. He was scrunched up on one side of the sofa as close to the doorway as he could get, watching TV. He glanced over as she shut the front door and flashed a grin. "Hey, Shooting Star. What're you up to?"

Ah, great. They were on casual chit-chat terms now. She edged toward the doorway but stayed outside the living room—sorry, not staying long—and said, "Oh, you know, just—looking at... the outdoors." Before he could dig further, she changed the topic. "So! How's that hair working out for you?"

"Ah." His smile wilted and his glance drifted back toward the TV. (He seemed to be watching the local news. Mabel decided he must've been really bored.) "Well, hair's still the worst thing that's ever grown on me and I still see a human in the mirror—but at least it's a human with a vaguely triangular silhouette. I can live with being back where I started."

"Sorry we couldn't come up with a real solution." As glad as she was to finish her obligation to Bill, she hated that all her efforts hadn't even really helped. Some problem-solver she was.

"Yeah, well. You can't build a pyramid out of meat. You did the best you could." Bill turned to fully face Mabel. "But, hey—listen." He had one eye squeezed shut but the other one stared her down with the intensity of a spotlight, paralyzing her in place. "Even if it's not perfect, I appreciate the effort you put in."

"Hey, it's no big deal. Crafts are my whole thing! It was kinda fun."

"No, I'm serious," Bill said. "I know I'm the town bogeyman, and everyone's only putting up with me until they find the easiest way to obliterate me. But you did a lot more than just 'put up with me.' And, well—don't tell the others I said this," he rolled his eye toward the hall to the rest of the house, and lowered his voice, "but... it's been a long time since anybody's treated me with a little kindness. Longer than you can imagine. I think I'd forgotten what it feels like. Even if I don't have much time left to enjoy it—I'm grateful for the reminder, kid."

Mabel's eyes widened. "Bill, that..." A lump formed in her throat. How long had it been? As big a jerk as he was—centuries? Millennia?

She darted into the living room, squeezed Bill in a hug before he could protest, and then bolted up the stairs two at a time.

And Bill thought to himself, got her.

Humans were so easy. Once you figured out what they wanted to believe in, you could make them do anything you wanted.

Mabel wanted to believe that everyone everywhere yearned to be friends with everyone else, and that the only thing holding them back was the defensive walls they built around their emotions. Mabel wanted to see people's walls come down. Mabel wanted every social problem to be simple enough that even a child could solve it if they were earnest and honest enough.

Mabel shouldn't have let Bill watch Color Critters. It told him too much about the kind of world she idealized. He had that kid completely figured out—

There was a loud pounding as Mabel leaped back down the stairs three at a time. "On your feet!" She grabbed Bill's hands and tugged him off the sofa, then wrapped a measuring tape around his hips.

He twisted around in bewilderment as she circled him, now measuring his chest. "What—?"

"Face forward! Arms out from your sides!" She measured his shoulder span, then grabbed one arm to measure the length. "I'll be back later. I've got work to do. Do not come upstairs!"

Bill leaned out the doorway to watch her bunny-hop back up to the attic.

Okay, he had that kid mostly figured out.

Well, the odd quirks just made her a little more interesting than the average human. The important thing was that, whether she knew it or not, she wanted Bill to be her friend. She wanted to be the horse girl who tamed the hostile bronco, the beauty who saved the beast. She wanted monsters to swear their loyalty to cute spunky protagonists, and she thought she was a protagonist.

The "reformed bad boy" was outside of the usual characters he played—he was better as the ancient teacher, the playful trickster, the divine messenger—but it was an easy enough role, and it gave him plenty of room to misbehave while staying in character. It's so hard to change my old ways—but maybe it would be easier if you give me another chance, if you help me, if you do this one little thing for me...

There was a fun little quirk of human psychology that was so well-known they'd even given their own name to it: the Foot-In-The-Door Technique. Once you get a human to do you one small, tiny little favor, they'll be more likely to do you another, bigger favor later. Borrow a dollar today and they'll be more likely to let you borrow a hundred dollars next week. Ask them to drive you to the auto shop and you'll have a better chance of asking them to help you move. Get them to bring you a little hair solution, and... well, Bill would just have to wait and see what he wanted next.

As long as everything Bill asked for was harmless, there was nothing the warier members of the household could do to intervene without making themselves look like the unreasonable ones. And by the time Bill started asking for anything dangerous, he'd have Mabel eating out of the palm of his hand, and she'd have no idea until it was too late that she didn't mean a thing to him—

####

Bill stared dumbly in the mirror at the yellow yarn hoodie. "H—Did you just make this?" With his arms at his sides, from the shoulders down, it looked like a decapitated triangle. 

"I used velvet yarn for your brick pattern," Mabel said. "It makes the lines stand out more! And I cut one of Dipper's bow ties in half to make the hood's drawstring so you can tie it into a bow!"

Wordlessly, Bill tied the bow—it hung in the center of his chest—and then he pulled the hood on, tugging it low over his forehead, completing the triangle. Mabel had put an eye on the hood. She'd even remembered Bill's eyelashes.

"I thought, hey—if the mask was too much, and the hair is too little, maybe a hoodie's just right," Mabel said. "I don't usually make sweaters for people—sweater curse, blarrr, you know—but, this one time, I thought it was important." She gave Bill a nervous smile. "So... what do you think? Do you like it?"

Bill stared at his reflection. It was hideous, misshapen, and alien, but it was almost himself.

He looked at Mabel. He got down on his knees. He put a hand on her shoulder. He said, "I will kill one enemy of yours, for free, no questions asked, in any way you want."

Mabel blinked. "Please don't do that."

"When I take over the universe I'm giving you your own galaxy."

"I don't—I don't want a galaxy. What would I do with a whole galaxy?"

"A solar system. A planet? Everyone wants their own planet!"

Mabel shook her head.

"Then what do you want?" What the heck do human children like. "Can I show you a magic trick?"

Mabel considered that.

####

"Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford!" Mabel ran into the kitchen, pushing Waddles in front of her, breathless with excitement. "Look what I can do!" She held a clear plastic spoon at arm's length, peered through it at Waddles like it was a magnifying glass, and slowly lifted the spoon up. Waddles floated up into the air as well. He snorted in mild bafflement.

Stan's jaw dropped. Ford said, "Ohhh, boy."

Mabel beamed at them both.

####

(This chapter isn't quite as edited as I usually do, because I've been sick this past week but wanted to get it out anyway. Apologies for that and I'd appreciate if you noticed any typos or disjointed sentences! And I'd doubly appreciate any nice comments, I've been having a hell of a week.)

[football-and-fanfics]

The Medic #14 - Jude Bellingham

About the series: The Medic is an anthology-like series about the reader working for the medical team of the club/national team. Each chapter will feature a different setting/scenario and a different player

Who: Jude Bellingham Prompt: Knocked out Requested by: anonymous Word count: 525 Warnings: descriptions of being knocked out, slight panic/anxiety. Mentions of hospital.

Jude didn't remember what had happened. He didn't know where he was, why he found himself lying on the ground, and he certainly didn't know why his head hurt so bad.

The world around him was dark, but he still felt like he was spinning slowly. The noise around him was oh so loud that it hurt his already aching head. His mind wouldn't form a coherent thought, and the last clear memory he had, was of eating breakfast that morning. After that everything was a blur.

"Jude?"

He recognized your voice, but couldn't determine where it came from, and he found himself unable to answer you calling out to him either.

"Jude, can you open your eyes for me, please?"

It was a struggle, but finally Jude managed to pry his eyes open. He only now realized the world had been so dark, because his eyes had been closed. His vision swam around for a moment, until his glassy gaze landed on you sitting next to him.

"Wh- where am I?" Jude found himself lying on his side. He recognized the feeling of grass underneath him, but that was about it. "Stadium," you answered, "you were knocked out for a few minutes." Jude stirred uneasily. You rested a soothing hand on his forearm to keep him calm. "What happened?" The fear rose quickly in Jude's eyes. "H-how did I get here? Why does my head hurt?"

Jude rapidly lost control over himself now and became very uneasy. He tried to push himself up, trampling his legs and attempting to move away. "Calm down, it's alright." You had your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back down to the ground. "No..." Jude protested as he tried to squirm out from under your hold over him.

You knew disorientation was a common side effect of people regaining consciousness, but it was never nice to see someone so confused and scared.

"Jude." You tone got a bit harder, but you needed to get through to him. "I can explain what happened to you, but I need you calm and to lie still." Jude stilled under your hands still on his shoulders. He glanced up at you again, eyes still wide with fear and disorientation. He lay breathing hard, trembling slightly, but he remained still.

"You took a knock to the head," you explained, "you were out cold for a few minutes." "Is that why my head hurts?" Jude asked softly, "and why the world keeps spinning around me?" "Absolutely." You were glad to see he remained calm and seemed a little more lucid now. "I suspect you have a concussion. That's why your memory is a bit shoddy as well." Jude nodded silently to show he had understood. "We're carrying you off the pitch in a few moments," you continued calmly, "and then we'll be taking you to the hospital for some checks."

Jude silently reached for your hand and took a tight hold of it. "Will I be alright?" His voice quivered slightly. You wrapped you hand around his and gave it a firm squeeze. "Yes." You assured him. "I'm sure you'll be perfectly fine."

Request an imagine Jude Bellingham masterlist | Full writing masterlist

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 17) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

Chapter 17

When you get to the supply cache, Giran is waiting for you, leaning back against the door of the storage unit and smoking a cigarette. It’s not his first one, either – the ground around his feet is scattered with the remains of five or six more. He notices you looking and smirks. “Seems like I’ve been littering, Saintess. Are you going to absolve me?”

“Only if you want me to,” you say. “Do you have what we ordered?”

“Cash first.”

“We paid in advance,” you remind him. Giran holds out both hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Was any of it hard to get?”

“Only what you asked for,” Giran says. “For the others, I’ve got replacement parts for Compress’s arm and Toga’s gear, more of those gloves for Shigaraki, gauntlets for Spinner and Twice – you sure you don’t want a set? They were buy two, get one free.”

You’re not sure if he’s joking or not. “That’s everything for the others. How about for me?”

“Of course.” Giran sets the crate with the rest of the supplies aside and pulls out a smaller box. “I have to say, I was surprised when you asked for this. I didn’t think the League’s resident angel would have any interest in a gun.”

“I’m interested in defending myself,” you say. “Open it.”

Giran opens the box, revealing a gun that looks like any other gun you’ve seen, not that you’ve seen many guns up close. “You don’t know enough to specify, so I chose something beginner-friendly,” he says. “This is a .22 caliber handgun. It’s designed for minimum recoil, so as to avoid knocking you back on your ass when you try to fire it. It’s also designed to be quiet, but I’ve thrown in a silencer free of charge.”

“Thanks,” you say. “What about ammunition?”

“Also included, but I’m charging for that. Thanks to the Americans and their mass shootings, it’s hard to buy ammunition in large quantities anywhere else,” Giran says. “Call it a convenience fee. Additionally, the trigger on this model is known to be fairly sensitive, so trigger discipline is going to be key. You know what that means?”

“I know.” You’ve been researching. “Safety on and fingers off unless I’m planning to shoot someone.”

“The instruction manual’s included,” Giran says. You scowl. “Ask Twice for help if you’re confused. He knows how to shoot.”

“Twice with a gun. That sounds safe.”

“Safer than you,” Giran says. “Running around with villains is one thing. Murder’s something else. I don’t think you have it in you.”

“Then I’ll hand the gun off to somebody who does.” You pick the crate up, grimacing at the weight, and Giran shuts the box with the gun and sets it down on top. “Thanks for getting it for me. Stay safe.”

Giran laughs at that. “Try ‘get lost’ next time. It’ll make you sound more intimidating.”

Your costume is a veil and a crown of thorns, and as of right now your weapon is a backpack. Intimidating is a lost cause. “Thanks for the tip. We’ll be in touch.”

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Giran lights up another cigarette as he walks away.

You unlock the storage unit and step inside. This is a supply cache you haven’t visited before, and you can tell Mitsuko’s the one who set it up, because there’s a box of condoms prominently perched atop six or seven cases of bottled water. You and the others have a water source right now, and while your medical supplies are dwindling, you don’t need a refill just yet. What you’re short on is food. You set down the crate, followed by your backpack, and open them up. Then you start filling both of them with prepackaged food.

Energy bars are the most efficient, space-wise, and they at least make a gesture at containing any kind of nutrients. Unfortunately, the League of Villains is full of adults with children’s tastes in food, and they wouldn’t know a nutrient if it walked up and introduced itself. It’s taken almost a month into the effort to batter Gigantomachia into submission for them to admit that eating nothing but calorie-rich, nutrient-poor food makes them feel gross. If you could get them real food on a regular basis, you would. But it’s almost never feasible, not with the tiny amount of downtime Tenko and the others are working with. It’s packaged food or nothing. They need to eat.

You pick out a variety of items and stuff them into the crate and your own backpack, text thank-you to Mitsuko while pretending you don’t see her message asking if the condoms were the right size, and head out. There are a few more things to buy before you can head back to the others.

As the medic, you’re responsible for the team’s health, and you’re worried about Tenko in particular. He’s exerting himself more than anyone and resting barely at all, and when he does get to rest, it’s all you can do to convince him to eat a few bites of anything before he passes out. The caloric input to output imbalance has stripped him of any remaining body fat, and when you touch him now, all you can feel are hard ropes of muscle and prominent bones straining beneath his skin.

The caloric imbalance is bad enough, but you’ve seen everything he’s eating, so you know he’s massively vitamin-deficient as well. If he won’t eat enough to get the amount he needs, you’ve got another way to do it. The clerk at the drugstore looks askance at the number of pill bottles you’re carrying. “These aren’t cheap, you know.”

“I know,” you say. “I’ll need a bag.”

The bag plus the crate and your backpack are stupidly heavy. You’re struggling as you head for the train station, gritting your teeth against the pain in your arms. You’ve been more active in the last month and a half than you’ve ever been in your life, and there’s not a day when some part of you isn’t sore. You pause at the bottom of the stairs to the platform and stare dismally upward. This one is going to hurt.

“Do you need help with that?”

You almost jump out of your skin, and almost drop what you’re carrying in the bargain. There’s a girl standing next to you, and you recognize her. In fact, you know her hero name, her real name, her quirk, and her blood type, courtesy of Toga. “Ochako?”

Uraraka Ochako, hero name: Uravity, looks shocked. “You know my name?”

“I remember you from the Sports Festival,” you say. It’s not so much that you remember watching the Sports Festival and more that Toga watches clips of it on YouTube to fall asleep. “You were really good. I liked your plan a lot.”

“Oh, thank you! I just wish it had worked,” Uraraka says ruefully. She gestures at the boxes you’re carrying. “Do you need help with those? I can make them lighter for you.”

You were going to say no, but if all she has to do is touch them – “Thank you so much. That would be really great.”

It’s much easier to get up the stairs when the stuff you’re carrying is lighter than air. Uraraka follows you up. “Do you live nearby? I can help you get them home.”

You shake your head. “I have a really long way to go.”

“I’ll stay until your train gets here,” she decides. You protest that your train’s running late, and she probably has somewhere to be. “My internship is right around here, and I’m off for the day. I don’t mind.”

You sort of mind. You’re on your way to hook back up with the League of Villains and you’re carrying what feels like a literal kiloton of contraband. You have a hard time believing that the word VILLAIN isn’t stamped on your forehead. But you can’t be rude, the crate really is heavy, and Toga will kill you if she finds out that you had the chance to talk to Uraraka and didn’t take it. You struggle for a topic to raise, and your brain suggests the Shie Hassaikai raid. “I saw in the paper that you helped rescue that little girl.”

“That wasn’t me. It was Deku,” Uraraka says. “I helped with other things, but he was the one who saved her.”

“Do you know how she’s doing?” you ask. “Is she okay?”

“She is! She stays with Aizawa-sensei and the other teachers and we all love her so much.” Uraraka is beaming now. “She’s okay even though the League of Villains kidnapped her. I can’t believe they just gave her back.”

Not ‘dumped her’, not ‘threw her away’. Gave her back. Your heart lifts enough that it’s a struggle to come up with the appropriate civilian response. “She must have been so scared. Did they hurt her?”

“That’s the weird part. She says she wasn’t scared,” Uraraka says. She frowns slightly. “She said they were nice to her. They gave her this blanket and this dog plushie. Aizawa-sensei keeps trying to swap it out for a cat plushie, but she won’t let it go.”

“Weird,” you agree. “Are you sure it was the League that got her?”

“She described them all. Shigaraki, Toga, Dabi – everybody.” Uraraka’s frown deepens. “And one we hadn’t heard of before. One nobody had heard of before. Saintess.”

You were hoping Eri wouldn’t remember, but it sounds like she does – and she knows what you look like. Did she describe you, too? Is that why Uraraka won’t leave? You struggle to stay calm. Physically, you don’t stand out. There are probably thousands of people who match your physical description, and Uraraka isn’t acting like a hero who’s just cornered a suspect. Heroes don’t play it cool. She thinks you’re just a random civilian with a bunch of boxes to carry, and she’s helping out. Which is – nice. Heroes aren’t usually nice like that.

“Saintess,” you repeat. “That’s a weird name for a villain.”

“Right?” Uraraka’s frown shifts into confusion. “The whole thing is weird. They’re villains. It’s easier when they just act like it.”

Huh. You don’t spend a lot of time around full-fledged heroes, but when you were Kazuo’s girlfriend, you spent a lot of time around heroes in training, and you don’t remember any of them ever saying something like that. “What do you mean?”

“I mean –” Uraraka pauses to think for a second. “Shigaraki tried to kill us at USJ. The League of Villains attacked us and kidnapped one of my classmates. It’s weird that they’d draw the line at hurting a little kid.”

“Villains have lines?” You fake confusion. “I thought they didn’t care who they hurt.”

“Some of them don’t. The one Deku fought to save Eri definitely didn’t. I guess the League does.” Uraraka looks uneasy. “That doesn’t change anything.”

It does, though. You can see it in her face. The fact that the League let Eri go, that they took care of her while they had her, is challenging her worldview to a degree she’s not comfortable with. You need to ease off, switch the topic before she doubles down – and before you can slip up defending the others. “I’m glad she wasn’t hurt, and that she’s doing better. It sounds like you all care about her a lot, and everybody deserves people who love them.”

“They do.” Uraraka’s smile returns at last, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You got her to agree to that statement in the middle of a conversation about the League. That feels less like a narrow escape and more like a win.

Your train arrives late, and you bid Uraraka goodbye and thank her for her help. Then you climb onto the train with your crate full of supplies and check the time on your phone. If you’re lucky, you’ll get back just as the fighting’s dying down.

At first you thought Gigantomachia could keep fighting forever, but it turns out that his strength and stamina aren’t infinite – just more than sufficient to outlast any normal human. He can fight for three days at a stretch, hibernate for less than three hours, and pick up right where he left off. There’s no hiding from. Wherever he is, he’ll seek Tenko out, and while Twice’s copies of Tenko can keep him occupied for a short time, three and a half hours is the longest break you’ve ever seen Tenko get.

It’s not enough. Not even close. The fight against the giant is destroying Tenko, and there’s nothing you can do except try to make sure he eats something before he falls asleep – and try to make sure that whatever sleep he does get is as restful as humanly possible.

The train gods are kind to you. You get back on time, meet Compress just outside the small town nearest to where Tenko and the others are fighting so he can contain the supplies and make them easier to carry, then head towards the base camp that’s been set up for the hibernation period. Compress’s phone rings as the two of you hurry along. It’s Twice, and you can hear him shouting even though he’s not on speaker. “Do you have her? He’s going to want to see her.”

“I’m here,” you say. No matter what, you make sure you’re there when the fighting pauses. It’s the only time you get to see Tenko these days. “How is he?”

“This was a rough one,” Twice says, but he says that every time. “Better hurry.”

You pick up the pace until you’re practically jogging. It’s been three days since you saw Tenko, and you’ve missed him a lot more than you want to let on to the others. You know they don’t question your commitment to the League or your devotion to him. You just don’t want them to know how far it really goes.

You reach the base camp a few seconds before Tomura and Twice do, and it’s just enough time for Compress to release the supplies and for you to set them down before Tomura collides with you. You realize instantly that Twice wasn’t kidding – instead of his usual limp exhaustion, Tomura’s shaky, and when he hugs you, you can feel his heart beating through his ribs. The level of adrenaline in his system must be absurd. He’s not getting to sleep like this, and if you wait for him to crash, he’ll be exhausted by the time the fighting picks back up again.

You piece together a plan on the fly, a plan that will hopefully net you some time to make sure he eats and get him at least an hour of uninterrupted sleep. Tomura’s trying to put on his gloves without letting go of you. You step back out of his embrace and take hold of his wrist. “Come with me.”

You don’t tell Twice and Compress where you’re going or what you’re doing, but you have a feeling they can guess. As much as that makes you cringe, it’s not enough to stop you. This is important. You have to calm Tomura down if you want him to sleep at all, and even though it’s selfish, you want a chance to be close to him again. Tomura puts on his gloves clumsily as you walk, his hands shaking too badly to fasten the Velcro around his wrists. You stop walking, turn, and do it for him. Then you take both his hands in yours and pull him forward into a kiss.

Tenko kisses you back with enthusiasm, in spite of the fact that his lips split and bleed instantly, that his hands are shaking so badly that he can barely hold onto yours. You nudge him a few steps backwards, and a few more, until he’s leaning against a tree. You’re not pinning him, exactly, but it’s close. “Hey,” Tenko mumbles against your mouth. You don’t want to interrupt him, so you switch to kissing his neck, conscious of just how little time you have. “Where did you go? Twice said you left.”

“Supply run.” You pull his jacket down from his shoulders, then tug the neckline of his shirt aside to kiss him there. “I made sure I’d be back in time. I wouldn’t have risked not seeing you.”

“I know.” The affection in Tenko’s voice is direct and obvious enough to make you blush. “We’re making progress. I’m wearing him down.”

“You’re a wreck.” You ignore the insulted noise he makes, a noise that turns sharp when your teeth scrape along his collarbone. “Something happened today. What was it?”

“Twice doubles you, sometimes. In case I get hurt and the others aren’t close enough to help.” Tenko’s grip on you is bruising. “He didn’t tell me he’d done it. That thing got to you. It threw you –”

And he wouldn’t have seen the copy dissolve, the way all of Twice’s copies do when they take too much damage. He’d have thought Gigantomachia killed you, and he probably wouldn’t have believed Twice when Twice told him it was just a clone. “I’m okay,” you tell him. You bite his shoulder lightly to underscore the point, making him shiver. “I was a long way away from this.”

“I don’t want you a long way away. I need you – here –”

You slide your hand under his shirt and run your fingers along his flank, swallowing alarm at just how prominent his ribs are. Then you trace downward, finding the waist of his pants. Tenko goes tense. “What are you doing?”

“I need you to relax, or you won’t be able to fall asleep in time,” you explain in between kisses to his neck. “This is the best way.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“No,” you say. “I miss you.”

“Me, too. No, you, too. I mean – fuck, I miss you too.” Tenko fumbles the sentence, but that doesn’t surprise you. Underneath the adrenaline rush, he’s exhausted, and you did just stick your hand down his pants. “Fuck, that feels good –”

“Good.” You tug his pants and underwear down to free his cock. “Relax.”

Tenko slumps, half against the tree, half against you. “What about you?” he mumbles.

“Don’t think about that.” You kiss his cheek, the corner of his jaw, and begin to stroke his cock in earnest. “Let me take care of you.”

It kills you that this is the best you can do – one quick hookup in the forest, before you feed him whatever he’s willing to eat along with a bunch of vitamins to make up for the nutrients he’s not getting and try to get him to fall asleep. But you’re never anything but pleased to have a chance to be close to him, and it amazes you how completely Tenko gives up control. His legs shift apart to make more room for your hand, tilts his head to one side so you can go back to kissing his neck, moans when your lips move over his scars. One hand is scrabbling for purchase on the trunk of the tree you’re leaning against. The other is glued to you, struggling to work its way under your jacket and shirt to make contact with your skin.

You told him not to worry about you, but you’re going to have a hard time walking back to the others like this. Your face is hot and you’re way too wet for the fact that you barely kissed him. This is Tenko’s fault. It’s his fault for going from too embarrassed to let you see his face when he comes to letting go of any sense of shame, and it’s your fault for finding it really hot. Are you really this addicted to being wanted, needed? When it comes to Tenko, absolutely.

The two of you have been together long enough now that you know when he’s close, just by the way his breath catches and his hips jerk. You pull away, ignoring Tenko’s protests, and sink to your knees in front of him. When you glance up, you find him staring at you, jaw dropped and face flushed. “It’s not as messy,” you say by way of explanation. You steady yourself with one hand on his hip and lean in to take his cock in your mouth.

Blowjobs aren’t your favorite thing in the world, but you’re a big fan of the effect they have on Tenko. You’ve gotten better at handling your gag reflex, and you never have to handle it for very long. Tenko lasts maybe thirty seconds before he gasps out a warning and his hips jerk sharply forward. You don’t let up, even when the taste of his cum fills your mouth. You don’t just need him calm, you need him relaxed to the point where he can barely keep his eyes open, and drawing back by degrees, lavishing attention on his tip as your hand closes around his length, is the only way you can think of to make it stick.

Tenko squirms but doesn’t tell you to stop, and a few small spurts of cum paint your tongue. You stop, draw back, and swallow a few times. Then you look up to see the results for yourself.

You’re sort of worried you might have killed him. He looks semiconscious, his chest rising and falling rapidly, lips split and mouth open to pant for breath. You pick yourself up off the ground, bringing his coat with you, and he pushes it away in favor of struggling to pull up his pants. His free hand slides almost absentmindedly between your legs, rubbing you through your jeans, and you’re so turned on that the sensation makes you gasp.

You struggle to stay focused. “We don’t have time.”

“It won’t take long.” Tenko’s eyes are barely open, but his mouth tilts into a crooked grin.

Once he’s got his pants up, he goes after yours, one hand down the front of them just like you did to him. His fingers brush your clit, then dip lower, and when you try to pull away, his other hand seizes your hip and pulls you against him, too tight to pull away. “Tenko,” you protest again. “There’s not enough time –”

“Not with that attitude.”

Your attitude isn’t going to matter all that much. Just like you’ve gotten to know his body, he knows yours – which means he probably knows how badly you want his fingers inside you and how frustrated you are that he won’t stop teasing your clit. But your attitude doesn’t matter, and you need him enough to take what you can get. It’s been a month since you were together like this. You miss him too much to say no.

His touch sends sparks through you, and you bite back a gasp. It’s hard to spread your legs wider when you’re standing, but you give it your best shot, and Tenko slides two fingers inside you. He mimics the shallow thrusts that drive you insane when you have sex, only this time, he’s been teasing you too long for you to hold out. You bury your face in his shoulder as his languid, barely-enough touches tip you over the edge.

When he speaks, he sounds triumphant – or maybe smug. “Told you it wouldn’t take long.”

You don’t know how much time Tenko just burned through. Too much. “Come on. We need to go back.”

“Say I’m right first.”

“Fine. You’re right.”

“I know.” Tenko yawns. “Love you.”

You kiss him instead of responding in kind, your mouth coming away bloody. “Let’s go.”

If Twice and Compress know what you were up to, they have the sense not to comment on it. If Dabi was here instead of off cultivating an ally, you’d never hear the end of it. You sit Tomura down next to the fire Twice must have built and dive into the supply box, coming up with food and water and the collection of vitamins you sorted out on the train. Tomura shakes his head. “I’m tired.”

“You need to eat.” Your plan might have worked a little too well. You hold two energy bars out to him and he grimaces. “Okay, fine. If you won’t eat, at least take these.”

Tomura makes an even worse face at the sight of the pills. “What are those?”

“Vitamins,” Compress says from across the fire. “Saintess has decided that we’ll get our essential nutrients one way or the other.”

“That’s right. I don’t want to have to treat any of you for scurvy,” you say. Twice snickers. You return your attention to Tomura and pull out your only remaining weapon, other than a whiny-girlfriend guilt-trip. “If you won’t eat and take your medicine, you can’t use me as a pillow.”

“Oh, come on.”

“You already did,” you say as quietly as possible. Tomura tries to glare at you, but the effect’s spoiled both by his mouth twitching as he tries to hold in laughter and the enormous yawn that swallows up whatever retort he was going to come up with. “Just eat a little bit. Please.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Tomura mutters, and you know you’ve won. You pass over the water bottle, followed by the pills. “Otherwise this would be annoying as hell.”

“I’d be a bad sidekick if I didn’t take care of you,” you say. “And I’d be a bad medic if I let any of you pass out from vitamin deficiency.”

“Or get scurvy,” Twice hoots.

“Scurvy?” Spinner and Toga are back, Spinner to relieve Compress and Toga to continue her mission to collect some of Gigantomachia’s blood. It hasn’t worked yet, but it keeps her busy. “Who has scurvy?”

“All of us, according to Saintess,” Twice says, cackling. “She’s gonna make us take our vitamins.”

“That’s right,” you say, as Tomura downs a handful of pills and chases them with half the water bottle. You’re worried you’ll have to fight him over the energy bar, but he peels back the wrapper and takes a bite without prompting. “Twice, get over here. You’re next.”

“So the supply pickup went okay,” Spinner says, coming closer as you hand Twice his vitamins. “You didn’t run into any trouble with Giran?”

“He gave me a hard time for not being a real villain, but that’s it,” you say. “He found the gauntlets you and Twice asked for. And the spare parts for your gear, Toga.”

“I can fix it while we’re waiting,” Toga says brightly. She peers into the supply box, then emerges immediately with a gasp. “This is a cute little gun! Who’s it for?”

“Me,” Spinner says at once. “I need a ranged weapon until I get better at throwing knives.”

You wonder if Spinner knows he’s covering for you. You can ask him later, once Tomura’s asleep. Toga doesn’t look convinced. “You need something bigger,” she says. “You have muscles. It’ll look silly if you’re holding such a small gun.”

“I’ll tell Saintess to send it back, then,” Spinner says. “Quit messing with it. It might be loaded.”

You’re pretty sure it’s not loaded, but your internet gun safety research made sure to point out that even if the gun looks empty, there could still be a round in the chamber – and Toga’s having a little too much fun pointing it around and striking poses. You need to put a pin in that, and you’ve got just the thing. “If you don’t quit messing around with that, I’m not going to tell you who I met today.”

“You just met Giran,” Toga says. You allow a smirk to cross your face. “Wait, who else? You have to tell me!”

“Put the gun away. Then I’ll think about it.”

“Saintess –”

The sound of a wrapper crumpling up yanks you clear of Toga’s whining, and you glance over to see that Tomura’s eaten both energy bars and finished the bottle of water. He looks even sleepier than before. “Okay,” you say. “How do you want to do this?”

Over the last month, Tomura’s tried out a variety of positions for using you as a pillow, and his favorite involves him sprawled out on top of you with his head on your chest. Your favorite is when he’s got his head in your lap and you can mess with his hair, but you’re not the one running a potentially-deadly sleep deficit. You find a rock to lean back against, and Tomura flops down on you. Usually he rustles around a bit, trying to get comfortable, but this time he’s out like a light as soon as his head hits your chest. It’s a deeper sleep than usual, which is good. He needs every second.

It’s not until you hear snickering that you realize where one of Tomura’s hands has landed. “I knew the boss was a boob guy,” Twice crows as you move Tomura’s hand off your breast, cringing the whole way. “There’s no way to go wrong. No, bullshit! The ass is where it’s at!”

Spinner shushes him, looking about as uncomfortable as you feel. Toga, meanwhile, drops down next to you. “I put the gun away. Tell me who you met. Was it Izuku?”

You’ve met Izuku. As of today, you’re two for three on Toga’s hero crushes. “I met Uraraka.”

“Ochako?” Toga squeals. Thankfully, Tomura’s too deeply asleep to stir. “That’s even better! How did she look? Was she wearing her school uniform or her costume? Say it was her costume – no, her uniform! We’d look so cute if we matched, don’t you think?”

You think Uraraka wouldn’t have been nearly as nice to you if she’d known you were going to report back about her to Toga. “It wasn’t her costume or her uniform. Civilian clothes. She had this pink coat –”

“Like mine?”

“No, puffy,” you say. Toga nods, beaming. She gestures for you to go on. “Um, and she had a hat that matched. With a white pompom on it.”

Toga looks like she’s going to faint. “Did you talk to her?” she asks. You nod. “Did she mention me?”

You don’t want Toga to have a heart attack, but you also don’t want to lie. “She mentioned Tomura and Dabi and you,” you say. Toga blushes. “I asked her about Eri – I figured even civilians would know about that, since her picture was all over everything – and she said Eri mentioned you specifically.”

“Wait, she remembers us?” Spinner looks alarmed. “How much?”

“More than I thought she would,” you admit. “But apparently it’s good. She remembers that we took care of her.”

“Ochako told you that?”

You nod. “It seemed like it was messing with her. The idea that we’d treat a kid we kidnapped well.”

“It shouldn’t mess with her,” Twice says. “We kidnapped the explosion kid and we were nice to him, too. And he wasn’t even cute.”

“I don’t like him. He’s mean,” Toga complains. “We should have stolen Izuku instead. He looks so cute covered in blood – I know you’d like him, Saintess –”

“I met him.”

Toga’s eyes look like they’re going to pop out of her head. She swats you on the shoulder. “When?”

It takes her fifteen minutes to forgive you for not mentioning that you handed Eri off directly to Midoriya himself, and another fifteen minutes for her to interrogate you for every detail of that interaction, too. “You’d tell me if you met Tsu, right?” she demands, looking like she’s this close to drawing a knife on you. “You wouldn’t hide that from me. You wouldn’t dare.”

“I haven’t met her,” you say. “If I do, you’ll be the first person I tell.”

“Which one is Tsu?” Spinner probably wishes he’d left this conversation half an hour ago, but for some reason he’s still hanging on. “The pink one?”

“No, look!” Toga’s downloaded every UA Sports Festival video to her phone. She pulls one up and shows Spinner. “I love her big eyes and her hair – and she’s so mean! She says we’re not friends, but I know we are –”

“You have a crush on a heteromorph?”

Toga gives Spinner a weird look. “You can’t have her, she’s mine. But you’d have a crush on her, too.”

“That wouldn’t be weird. I’m a heteromorph. But you –” Spinner stops, shakes his head. “Forget it.”

“It’s okay.” Toga pats his shoulder. “Love is just weird like that. It doesn’t care about the stuff we care about. Like Tomura-kun and Saintess. Tomura loves her and he says it all the time. She loves him too but she never says it back. I would hate it if someone did that to me! But they don’t mind, so it’s fine.”

She gives Spinner a meaningful look. “I don’t mind, so it’s fine. Besides, I’m a heteromorph, too.”

She is, technically speaking – her amber eyes and almost-fangs are far enough from the human standard to count – but it’s a tone-deaf thing to say to someone like Spinner, who can’t hide who he is. You can tell it bothers him, but he stays put, and Toga eventually gets up to repair her support items. And Spinner stays. It occurs to you that he might want to talk to you. Alone.

He doesn’t speak up until there are twenty-eight minutes left on the clock, when it’s just him leaning against one side of the rock and you with Tomura fast asleep in your arms on the other. “How come you don’t say it?”

“What?”

“Toga’s right. He says it all the time, but you never do.” Spinner is cringing, like he can’t believe he’s saying this. You can’t believe he’s saying it, either. “What’s the deal? Do you – not?”

“Why are you asking me that?” You don’t mean to sound as defensive as it comes out, but you’re honestly confused. Then it occurs to you why Spinner, the person in the League who’s least likely to comment on anybody else’s life, is bringing it up. “Did he say something?”

“When? In between trying not to get flattened by Machia and sleeping for two hours at a stretch?” Spinner can’t make eye contact with you. He keeps looking away. “He said something one time while we were hiding. Asked if it was normal that you wouldn’t say it, like I know anything about girls.”

You think Spinner would probably do okay with girls once they got to know him. “If anything goes wrong with you two, it’ll snap his focus and he’ll get us all killed,” Spinner continues. “I want to see his vision come true and I don’t want to die. So I’m asking. That’s why.”

“I do,” you say. Spinner looks relieved, but he doesn’t look surprised. “I don’t know why I don’t say it. It feels like – a lot. Like something will happen. I don’t know what.”

Spinner gives you a curious look. “Something bad?”

“Just something.” This is making you feel stupid. “I do, though. I thought it was obvious.”

“I mean, it is.” Spinner gestures awkwardly at the two of you. Tomura’s still dead to the world, and maybe drooling a little bit. You must be really far gone, because you think it’s sort of cute. “Like I said. I don’t know anything about girls, but I don’t think someone who didn’t love somebody else would put it on the line like this. It was just a question. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You want to stop talking about this, and you’ve got a question for him. “Why’d you cover for me earlier? You must have known the gun was mine.”

“It would have freaked him out.” Spinner doesn’t have to say who he’s talking about. “He thinks it’s his job to protect you, since you’re his sidekick. And his girlfriend. And if you’re using a gun, you can commit actual crimes. The kind people get put away for. I don’t think he wants that.”

You’re pretty sure you’re already going away if you get caught. You haven’t directly participated except in the attack on the CRC, but that was probably enough to put you within Kazuo’s search parameters, and if your interaction with Uraraka told you anything, it’s that the villain named Saintess is officially on the heroic radar. But Spinner’s got a point. Right now you can only be charged as an accomplice to the League’s crimes. That charge carries a significantly lighter sentence than whatever you’d do with a gun.

Still – “Tomura can’t be everywhere,” you say. He stirs in his sleep but doesn’t wake. “I can’t have him getting distracted trying to look after me, so I have to be able to look out for myself.”

Spinner doesn’t answer, but you know he knows you’re right. “Don’t tell anybody I have it,” you say.

“I’m not going to lie to him.”

“Don’t lie to him. If he says “hey, Spinner, does my girlfriend have a gun”, tell him the truth.” As far as you’re concerned, it never needs to get that far. “Just don’t tattle on me.”

“Don’t say tattle. Say snitch,” Spinner corrects. ‘It sounds more – villain.”

That’s the second person today who’s knocked you for not being villainous enough. “Fine. Don’t snitch on me.”

“Deal,” Spinner says. It’s quiet for a moment. “Do you ever think about what happens when we win?”

“You and me come up with a new world that doesn’t suck?”

“Besides that,” Spinner says. “Like what has to happen for it to count as a win. We don’t all have the same answer. Toga thinks it’s a win as long as the stuff she likes makes it through. Twice probably thinks it’s a win if Toga makes it, and Compress probably just wants to do the same stuff he’s always done and not get arrested. Who even knows about Dabi.”

“He’s got a mission,” you say, and Spinner snorts. You’re starting to see where he’s headed with this. “What about you and me?”

“We win if we build the new world,” Spinner says. He glances down at Tomura, whose hand has migrated back to your breast in his sleep. You move it off again. “And we lose if he’s not in it.”

You blink, taken aback. “I don’t have another best friend,” Spinner continues. “I can’t replace the one I have. And you can’t replace him.”

“I know,” you say. And then, without thinking: “I tried.”

Spinner stares at you, opens his mouth, but before he can say a word – and before you can backtrack straight to Yokohama – your phone starts buzzing in your pocket. So does everybody else’s, plus Spinner’s watch and your stupid laptop, which is shut and supposed to be off in your backpack. The clamor sends a jolt of pure fear down your spine, just like it does every time you hear it. It’s your timer, synced to everyone else’s. Gigantomachia’s awake.

Tomura lurches awake, in command from the second his eyes open. “Twice, send out a double to buy us time. Make it run.”

“It can only run as fast as you can –”

“I’ve gotten faster. Send it to the hills. He’ll have a harder time with the terrain.” Tomura gets to his feet, and you scramble after him. He turns to you. “Get clear. We’ll drop a pin once we have a new campsite. Will you –”

There’s not time for that question, and he should know the answer. You silence him with a kiss. “I’ll be there.”

He’s already peeling off his gloves, fastening on his family’s hands, scanning the horizon. “I love you.”

You remember what Spinner said. The question Tomura apparently asked him. How just showing it might not be enough. That you shouldn’t expect it to be enough – but you can’t get the words out. You need to try something else. You grab his hand, careful to avoid his fingers, and raise it to your lips, kissing the heel of his hand, the center of his palm, the ridges of his knuckles. His hands have so many scars now. He’s being hurt, and you can’t help him. There’s nothing you can do.

Tomura’s grip on your hand tightens, index fingers raised. The ground rattles slightly beneath your feet, and he lets go. “Run.”

Compress has already contained the supplies; Twice has stomped out the fire. He and Spinner have their gauntlets, and Toga’s support item is fixed. They’re ready to go, and so should you be. You spare one more glance for Tomura, then turn to flee, bolting into the woods alongside Compress as Gigantomachia’s silhouette appears over the horizon.

The two of you shed your disguises at the outskirts of the same town, uncompressing the supplies to reorganize them. “Spinner forgot his gun,” Compress remarks. “Shall I hold onto it?”

“I will,” you say. “We’ll see him at the same time, and nobody’s going to search me.”

Compress nods. “I’ll be getting some sleep. I’m three days behind. What about you?”

Your phone pings with a fresh text, and your heart sinks when you see the number. “I’ve got some stuff to take care of. Keep me updated.”

Compress nods again, and the two of you split. He heads down the street, probably aiming for the capsule hotel you scoped out on your way into town, and you go in the opposite direction, towards the train station. You don’t check your messages until you’re waiting on the platform.

You texted Kazuo a few days ago, asking him a question, ordering him not to look unless his health allows it. You’ve been anxiously awaiting his reply, if it comes at all, and now you’ve gotten six texts from him in a row. Your heart races as you open them.

Kazuo: Yoshimi is in remission. Mitsuko and Ryuhei are supporting her in your absence. All three appear to be doing well.

Kazuo: Their involvement with your friend has not been noticed.

That’s good news. You’ve been thinking about her. And about them. For a moment, you’re almost suffocated by a wish that you could celebrate with them. You gave up your old life, your old friends. And you miss them even more than you thought you would. You swallow hard and keep reading.

Kazuo: Your codename has appeared on the official roster for the League of Villains. They are attempting to track you by quirk and criminal history, and therefore coming up empty.

Kazuo: I’ll keep you clear as long as I can, but if they sufficiently alter their questions, I won’t be able to.

Kazuo: I was able to look into the question you gave me. It was specific enough to instantly rule out all other answers, so I thank you for that.

Kazuo: The answer is yes. Congratulations.

Your eyes go blurry, and a second later, your throat closes off. Your train arrives, but you don’t get on it – instead you sit down on a bench, staring down at the floor between your feet, trying not to cry and furious with yourself for wanting to cry at all. You asked Kazuo to use his quirk and see if you – you, identified by your birthdate, blood type, height, career, and city you were born in, for all the specifics he could ever need – have a latent quirk. You trust his word over the doctor’s. His quirk isn’t wrong, ever. You told yourself that you’d accept his answer as the truth. You were hoping he’d say no.

Instead he says yes. You do have a latent quirk, something that’s been hidden your whole life because the conditions necessary to awaken it have never been met. They’ll probably never be met, and your quirk is probably worse than useless, but the fact that it’s latent means you’ve spent your whole life being treated like you’re quirkless when you aren’t. You should feel cheated. Instead you feel betrayed.

It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. If you don’t know what it is, it’s like you don’t have it at all. Nothing needs to change. You don’t need to tell anyone. You tell yourself that, but it doesn’t make much of a different. The doctor knows, and so does Kazuo. So does All For One.

The next train arrives long before you’ve calmed down, but you get up and shamble aboard anyway. Nobody looks at you – not for long, anyway. Most people go out of their way to avoid seeing others’ pain. When your eyes have cleared a little bit, you take your phone out and start looking up firing ranges. You might not be able to be useful to Tenko and the others with your stupid, latent quirk. But you can definitely be useful to them with a gun.

[yourenzoo]

forced proximity

where yn’s friend group challenges yn to get a boyfriend before winter break at the start of their senior year, 

or

where soobin agrees to be yn’s ‘fake boyfriend’ for a while, and inevitably digs up some (what he thought were) long gone feelings for the girl

soobin and yn have always had some sort of rivalry with each other. no one knows how, why, or when it started, but everyone knows it exists. soobin is one of the ‘popular’ kids at the high school they go to, while yn is lesser known. both are and have been single since freshman year. 

genre >> enemies to lovers, smau with written chapters, fluff, eventual angst

- fem!reader

- choi soobin x reader

- taglist : open!

- mon/wed/fri update schedule

- some written parts

- lowercase intentional

profiles : ‘ the kids ’ - ‘ top dogs ’

chapters :

1. ‘ as if ‘ 2. ‘ wait really? ‘ 3. ‘ okay, wtf. ‘4. ‘ wait you weren’t joking? ‘ 5. ‘ i saw her contact ‘ 6. ‘ they did WHAT? ‘ 7. ‘ hehe.. ‘ 8. ‘ no, absolutely not. ‘ 9. ‘ oh damn ‘ 10. ‘ shit. ‘ 11. ‘ practice makes perfect! ‘ 12. ‘ how did you know..? ‘ 13. ‘ aww, so cute! ‘ 14. ‘ oh.. it’s fine ‘  15. ‘ fuck. ‘ 16. ‘ surprise..? ‘ 17. ‘ i love it, soob. ‘ 18. ‘ i don’t know?? ‘ 19. ‘  i think i love you ‘ 20. ‘ you fucked up. ‘ 21. ‘ sorry ‘ 22. ‘ YOU fucked up. ‘ 23. ‘ wh..what did you just say? ‘ 24. ‘ i know i love you ‘ 25. ‘ surprise..? part 2 ‘ (bonus!) - ‘ as if (reprise) ‘

previous || next ' the kids '

[marenwithanm]

Chapter 4 part 14! Rock is. Not handling this whole situation very well

First | Previous | Next | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Rock: You... Have no idea what you're doing. We're just kids lost in the middle of nowhere... There's no hope... W-We're going to die out here.

-

Ocean: Wh- Rock don't say that!

-

Ocean: Hey! Come back!

[lokisprettygirl]

Close Ties (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Modern AU) (Non canon) (18+)

Read Chapter 13 // Series Masterlist

Chapter 14

Summary : Your life takes a drastic turn as family secrets are revealed.

Warning: 18+ dad's best friend trope, canon (we don't know her..don't like don't read), feeling of hopelessness, uncle Daemon kink (you don't have to squint), familial uncle niece sort of relationship but he's not really her uncle, there will be more smut later, masturbation, significant age gap but reader is in her mid twenties, mention of infidelity, miscarriage , divorce, smoking and alcohol drinking, physical violence implied

Time carried the ability to change in the brink of a moment and you had never understood the importance of it until now. At the hospital you paced back and forth as your mother was admitted after she had fainted, she had been stressed for a while and finding out about your relationship with Daemon as well as your father's affair with Stella was too much at once for her.

However she was okay and that was a relief, as you watched you mum and dad having a conversation all you felt for your father was anger and you knew you didn't want to be there any more. You couldn't even look at him the same way without feeling disgusted.

“Can you take me home?” you asked Daemon but he didn't even look at you as he answered you.

“Don't think your father would appreciate that”

“I'm an adult Daemon, I can go home with whoever I want and he can't do anything about it”

He nodded as you said that and obliged, you were hurting and he didn't want to add to it..

On the drive back home none of you said a word, he could sense your anger towards your father. When the truth of your relationship with Daemon came out you were worried about disappointing him but now you were disappointed in him. You had looked up to your father as a perfect man who despite all the temptations he received because of his status stayed loyal to your mother but it was all lies.

He was a good father to you, always had been but he wasn't a good husband to your mother, sure he treated her well all her life and loved her but like Daemon had said before he didn't respect her enough to not cheat on her, atleast not that night when he chose to fuck his best friend's wife.

You looked at Daemon and you felt a sense of resentment towards him as well, he made you break things off with Cassandra which you were grateful for but then he forgave your dad after what he had done to him?

About an hour later as you stormed inside his room he was on the bed icing those bruises your father had given him and for a moment your anger towards the situation melted. He was alone, he got hurt by the people he trusted and loved the most and still carried the strength to open his heart for forgiveness, not just that but he also protected your father's shameful truth from your mother and you all these years when he could have spilled the truth for revenge..

“Sit down pixie, I need you to calm down”

You walked towards the bed and sat down as he said that and then you chuckled,

“Were you calm when you found out that your wife chose to fuck your best friend and your best friend didn't resist her either?” his jaw clenched as you said that as if he was reminded of the moment he had figured that out.

“No i wasn't calm and I'm not asking you to not be upset but I need you to trust me when I say this that you'd need to forgive your father, it's all in the past anyways” the way he just wanted you to get over it made you even more upset.

“Yeahhh. Past? Who's to say Stella was the only one?”

“She was ..trust me she was the only one”

You got up from the bed as he said that and turned towards him so he was facing you directly, you wanted to look into his eyes while he spewed such bullshit to you.

“I need to know the truth, the whole truth, he was your best man, he was your best friend then how could he do this to you?” You asked him but words came out all choked from your own tears, this is why he never wanted to tell you the truth, he wanted to protect your feelings, you looked up to your father, he was your hero but that would change now.

“Remember that last trip we took?” He asked you so you nodded in response,

“I took your mum for a tour of the city, she slipped and hurt herself so I took her to the hospital since your dad was at the hotel busy with some calls he had to take. Stella was there too...she didn't want to come with us .. I don't know what happened but your dad told me that they both went to the bar together for a drink and got to talking, then she made a move on him”

His voice was devoid of any emotion as he said those words as if the event didn't even affect him anymore. You did remember the day, you didn't want to go anywhere that day so you had just stayed in your room all day long.

“Ofcourse she did but did he not remember that he was fucking married and had a child with his highschool sweetheart?” you asked him, your voice was full of contempt.

“I'm sure he did but not in those moments, they were drunk, she started to flirt incessantly with him, that's what she does apparently, telling him things like how handsome and rich he was becoming with every passing day” your expressions turned to one of disgust as you thought about the situation

“Your father was a good looking man but somehow he always felt insecure, especially when he wasn't who he is today, your mum was the only woman to have loved him like that and when a tall beautiful woman like Stella started to flirt with him, in his drunken state he couldn't resist her. That's what he told me, he was not proud of what he had done, he was a fucking mess when I confronted him, he tried everything he could to make me stay but i didn't. I couldn't, so he begged me to keep you and your mum away from this, told me that he couldn't lose you two as well” you scoffed as he finished his words.

“But he was okay with losing you and he kept us in the dark and for years he allowed us to make our own perceptions regarding you and you're here trying to protect him for all his wrongdoings” you turned around to storm out so he grabbed your arm and stood up to pull you closer to him,

“I'm not turning blind eye to his mistakes y/n” there was a look of anger in his eyes, he wanted to get through to you and for you to lean into him for support and not run away from him when you felt hurt and betrayed.

“But you want me to forgive him?” You asked him so he kissed your forehead which made you chuckle again “Well took you ten years to do the same and you won't even give me time to be upset and angry?”

You took yourself out of his hold and turned around to leave for your room, you couldn't be around him if he was going to behave like this.

“I took ten years because I had the luxury of time, you don't y/n..your father won't be around for long”

You halted in your steps as he said that. You wanted him to take his words back but there was a sinking feeling in your gut, as you turned around to look at him, there were tears in his eyes and fear in yours.

“What did you say?”

He walked towards you and grabbed you by the shoulders to pull you closer to him, your eyes looked up at him shocked and confused so he cupped your cheeks before he spoke again,

“I didn't just come back to repair my relationship with your father or settle back in London, I came back because he begged me to do so and you don't ever deny a dying man's wish, you never ever do that”

You looked at him with a look of shock splattered all over your face, mouth stayed open in surprise as you processed the information.. this can't be real right because it indeed felt like a nightmare. How could your life take such a drastic turn so suddenly?

“He made a mistake and ruined my life, I forgave him but i didn't forget and I don't think I'd ever forget what he had done to me that night but I am choosing to forgive him for all those times our friendship wasn't tarnished and ruined by his lack of self control, for all the good times we had with each other, i forgave him and came back and I'm so glad that I did because it led me to you and you have become the most important person in my life now”

You burst into a fit of cry as he finished his words so he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly to console you, he didn't want you to spend the night alone with no one to comfort you.

“Take your time pixie, I'm not asking you to forget everything but when you fall asleep tonight think of all those cherished moments your father gave you and how happy he had made you all these years”

After a while when tears refused to come out you looked up at him and pressed soft little kisses on his bruises. He was a gem of a person, he was the true friend perhaps your dad didn't even deserve in his life, he threw it all away for a few moments of fun but Daemon was right, your father had given you the best life and had supported all your life decisions, no matter how ridiculous they were. He had loved you and your mum, there was no denying that.

“I'll forgive him if mum does, i won't forgive him if she won't”

“She would.. sweetheart”

“What's wrong with him?” Your eyes welled up again as you questioned him about your dad's illness. Suddenly it all clicked, the random trips and Daemon insisting you to join the family business and to learn from your father while he was here, everything connected.

“Carcinoid tumor, your father is being treated by his trusted doctor in the states, he didn't want to get treated here because he was trying to protect you from the truth for as long as he could”

All those trips they were taking together suddenly made complete sense and the reason why he went all out on your birthday this year. You still didn't want to believe that your father was severely ill, he had all the money in the world, he'd be okay right?

“Mum knows about this?”

“She does “

“He'll be okay though right?”

He hugged you again as you questioned him with such innocence and didn't say a word in response. Maybe he didn't want to lie to you and tell you that your father would recover when there was 50 percent chance that he wouldn't..

“Sleep with me please..i don't want to be alone”

“Shhhh sweetheart I'm right here” he picked you up in his arms and snuggled with you until your sobs had quieted down and you had fallen asleep.

He knew your father wasn't pleased about this development between you two but there's nothing he could have done now.

The next morning as you woke up Daemon urged you to go see your parents and talk to them. So that's what you did, you thought your mum would still be angry but when you entered their room they were talking normally with each other, maybe she had made peace with it because he was sick but your heart still broke for her.

She sent your father out of the room because she wanted to talk to you in private and as soon as he was gone you put your head down on her lap and clutched onto her, your life had turned for the worse in the past twenty four hours and you didn't know how to handle that. There was your relationship with Daemon, then the truth about Stella and your father and now you had to deal with his illness as well. It felt too much at once so you just cried and cried some more.

“Your father told me about you and Daemon” you sat up as she said that “He's not happy” you chuckled as she said that, no you wouldn't allow her to turn this around. Your relationship with Daemon wasn't wrong.

“Ohh you think I'm happy about the secret he kept from us and the secret you two had been keeping from. Me?” you asked her so she shook her head.

“It's in the past, I don't care anymore, he told me that she was the only one he ever fucked up with and i believe him” you looked at her shocked at the calm demeanor she had right now because she had collapsed last night after learning about it “Our marriage was going through a tough phase at the time, you know i miscarried plenty of times and it drove us apart for a moment..your father wasn't the only one who was unfaithful during the time” she looked down as she was ashamed of herself in that moment and you got off the bed to get away from her. Liars, everyone was a liar in your family.

“Please don't tell me that you and Daemon –”

“Jesus Christ no y/n..he had always been like my little brother”

She interrupted you before you could finish that sentence and you breathed a momentarily sigh of relief but then reality of the situation hit you like a rock, your parents' seemingly perfect marriage wasn't so perfect after all it seems.

In all of this commotion the only person who came out looking innocent was your Daemon, that sweet gentle man was like a blessing and nobody appreciated him. He got hurt and he had no one to lean on to at the time. How did he deal with such a betrayal? How did he have the courage to forgive Stella and move on with her?

“I don't want you to be cross with your father because of me..I'm sure Daemon told you about his–”

“Yeah that he's dying ..yeah” your tone was casual, not because you didn't care but because you felt extremely numb at the moment after everything you had learned since last night.

After your mother you had a chat with your father as well, the reason why he urged you to join the family business suddenly and why he brought Daemon back to guide you was because he was dying slowly. He wanted to feel at peace when it would be his time to leave so he really needed Daemon to forgive him and he didn't trust anyone except Daemon to teach you right from wrong when it comes to business but of course he didn't anticipate that things would take a romantic turn between you two.

“I made the move, he wasn't at fault here, sure he felt something for me but I was the one to take a step towards him, he just didn't want to keep hurting me, he's not a pervert, he's not sick and he didn't come back to take revenge from you so the next time you see him I need you to apologize to him because after everything he had done for you he don't deserve to be treated this way”

Your father cried along with you and as soon as he broke down and hugged you suddenly you felt the wave of grief coursing through you, you didn't know how much time you had with him but you knew it would never be enough. He was young still and he had a full life ahead of him that you knew he wouldn't get to experience.

“Y/n I have never asked you for anything in my life, but I want something from you”

As your father pleaded with you, you felt the similar sinking feeling in your gut that told you that whatever would come out of his mouth next would only bring you pain but then you don't deny a dying man's wish right?

As you took heartbroken steps towards Daemon that night you knew he'd probably resent you for hurting him this way but you felt helpless.

One look at you and Daemon understood what you wanted to tell him, you didn't even have to use your words, he had a similar conversation with you father, last night he thought he'd have to leave again. But this morning your father begged him to stay with him but then he also begged him to spare his only daughter, she was young and she was the sole heir of his legacy, he wanted her to find a man that would be there for her forever and not someone so much older that she'd have to spend her older years all alone with a broken heart.

He still needed Daemon to be here and guide you but as a mentor only and probably as an uncle that he was supposed to be.

As you clutched onto him and cried he just held onto you and didn't say a word, he waited for you to speak to him because he'd have done whatever you wanted, in that moment all that mattered to him were your wishes. If you wanted to fight for him then he'd have done the same but he'd also support you if you wanted to grant your dying father's wish.

“I can't lose you Daemon, not again, not after the way you have made me feel..I can't lose you.. i love you” you sobbed into his arms as your fingers clutched around the fabric of his silk shirt.

“You won't lose me, I'd be here I promise, no matter what happens I'd be here with you ..i promised that I'd never leave again so I'm going to fulfill that promise”

Your cries only worsened as he said that, he was ready to do whatever you needed even if it brought him pain and misery in return.

“You don't deny a dying man's wish you said”

“Mmmhmm”

“He wants me to end this romantic relationship with you”

“I know”

The look in his eyes was enough to indicate that he understood what you wanted to say to him.

“So that's it then..i should lose you because he wants me to? Isn't it enough for him that I'm losing him that i have to lose you too?” you asked him between your tears so he kissed you softly and longingly because he knew it would be the last time he'd get to touch you like that.

“You won't lose me Pixie, you'd never lose me again”

And he wasn't wrong about that but he wasn't right either, you broke both of your hearts that night and things sped up at the work front.

You were suddenly dropped from the intern position and were made the CEO of your father's empire, a position you weren't prepared for at all, but as promised Daemon was there with you, he was working for you now, under you if put precisely, and though you were higher on the chain he was the one guiding you, he was sticking up for you in every board meeting, he was pushing you to do your best. The nine to ten hours you spent at work somehow didn't feel so grueling when you had Daemon and his comforting presence around you but as soon as you came back home you were hit by the wave of overwhelming sadness and grief.

Sadness regarding your father's deteriorating condition and grief for losing the love of your life.

Daemon wasn't any better, sure he spent most of his time with you but having you so close yet so far was detrimental to him, he couldn't talk to you like he used to before, your relationship became strictly professional with him, sure you two lived in the same mansion but you both avoided bumping into each other to not bring each other even more pain because every time you looked at him you wanted to kiss him and tell him that you missed him more than anything and everytime he looked at you he just wanted to take away all your pain, hold you in his arms and kiss you all night long.

Life had changed so drastically in the past month that you didn't even recognise yourself anymore, it felt as if you had grown ten years in a few weeks and had to bear the responsibilities of your father on your shoulders.

You felt overwhelmed and anxious all the time, Daemon noticed that too so one morning as he knocked on your cabin to get your signature on some papers he noticed how lost you looked, you didn't even read the papers so he put his hand on yours to stop you from signing.

“Rule number one, always read the documents before you sign them” you looked up at him as he said that and as you saw that small soft smile on his face you couldn't hold back your emotions anymore, you broke down in tears immediately.

His smile faltered as well at the sight of you, you were too young and it was too soon for you to handle these responsibilities, sure he was there to help you and your father was doing his best as well but a burden was just that, a burden.

He walked around the desk and placed his palm on your upper back as you sobbed into your hands,

“Get up darling” he mumbled softly so you immediately stood up and hugged him as tightly as you could. This is all you have been doing these days, crying about everything but you felt awful, perhaps you'd have been more driven if your dad had not put that condition on you regarding Daemon because you really needed him especially now that you knew sooner or later you'd lose one of you parents and there was nothing you could have done about it.

“Shhhhh it's all good darling ..you're doing your best, just take deep breaths for me now can you?” He cooed gently and you didn't even need to do that because you felt so much better just by being in his arms

“It's too much ..I don't think I can do this” you looked up at him with your tear filled eyes so he cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead. He didn't know if you were talking about your professional situation or whether you were hinting towards your broken unfinished relationship with him but he knew he had to uplift you.

“You can do this..I believe in you”

“What if I can't…what if I can't do this” his brows furrowed as you sniffled like a child, his own eyes welled up.

“Then I'll take you far away from here ..all you have to do is ask..that's it” you stopped crying as he said that. You knew that wasn't a choice you could have made, you won't hurt your parents like that, he knew that too, but having an option to opt out of everything and elope with him was nice. Having him put you over anyone was comforting even though you hadn't done the same for him.

“Okayyy..okayyy thank you” you mumbled softly so he smiled and made you sit back down.

Perhaps a good cry in his arms was what you needed to move forward and it worked for a while, sure he wasn't completely yours anymore but you still had his love and you gave him your love in your own ways but then one night as you came back home from work you found the woman you despised so much lounging in your parent's house.

You never wanted to see her again but there she was, hugging the love of your life as if he belonged to her.

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Taglist

@serving-targaryen-realness @annoyingsweetsstranger @anukulee @mcufan72 @insertsomethingsillyhereple-blog @silentf @ajthefujoshi @stupidthoughtsinwriting @ammo23 @shuichiakainx @daddylokisqueen @ipostwhtifeel @anehkael @madlyinlovewmattmurd0ck @dixie-elocin @urmomsgirlfriend1

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 3

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |-| Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19

AO3

Summary: In the wake of a terrible loss, the arrival of a new airman at Thorpe Abbotts promises to change the trajectory of Frankie's life forever

Warnings: Death, grief

Word Count: 3.9k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles

A/N: HE'S HEREEEE 🗣🗣🗣

It was dark in the mechanics' hut, the lights kept off during the day to preserve power, but the overcast nature of the afternoon did nothing to light the space from the outside. Hours had passed since the pilots had left, and although Frankie was never made privy to the specifics of their missions, she could tell by the amount of fuel that had been requested that they were going far, much further than they ever had before. There was not a man among them who hadn't seemed to have a dark cloud over his head as they had prepared to depart that morning.

She and Lemmons sat on the floor together, backs propped up against the wall, both too troubled by worry to work. Frankie had an old fashion magazine in her lap, and they passed the time by flicking through each section and poking fun at a myriad of ugly sweaters and ridiculous hats.

"Those are nice," Ken stated, pointing at a pair of green brogued shoes.

"Seriously? I think they're garish."

He shrugged. "My Fonda has some like it. They look nice on her."

She let out a low whistle, teasingly nudging his side as his face turned bright red, a satisfied smile curling his lips. For a boy as young as he was, he sure loved Fonda. Frankie had noticed the heart-shaped locket that hung from his neck the very first day they'd worked together, but it had taken weeks for him to let her have a look inside. It must have been nice to be loved the way she was.

The magazine was losing its charm. It had been over an hour, and they were running out of pages. With a huff, she tossed it across the room, landing in a heap of crumpled pages underneath the table. Ken looked over at her, raising a brow.

She shrugged. "Bored. Want a cigarette?"

Without waiting for an answer, Frankie dug around in her pocket and produced two loose, slightly bent cigarettes, passing one to Lemmons. She lit hers swiftly, taking in an inhale of smoke. He rolled his between his fingers, never bothering to light it. Sometimes she forgot he didn't smoke.

"I'm gonna take you for a drink tonight. We deserve it."

"I'm nineteen."

Frankie stared at him for a long moment. "...So?"

"So, I can't drink."

"Jesus Christ. Welcome to England mate, you might be the only nineteen-year-old currently in the country who doesn't already have a drinking problem."

He opened his mouth to respond, but before the words could emerge they were interrupted by a rapid knocking at the door. Far from the usual pounding thuds the men usually used, this knock was delicate, polite, but its urgency set Frankie's heart to beating twice as fast.

Scrambling to her feet, she rushed for the door, tossing her cigarette into the ashtray on the table as she passed. Hauling it open, a wave of nausea coursed through her as she saw George standing outside, hair damp from the drizzle, tie pulled loose away from her neck, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Wh-" Frankie trailed off as she slammed into her, gripping her in the tightest hug she'd ever felt. As she wrapped her arms around George's back, she could feel her shaking beneath her palms.

George let out one sob after another, face buried in Frankie's shoulder as her tears soaked the fabric of her coveralls. Looking back over at Lemmons, their gazes met in wide-eyed expressions of anxiety, and if George hadn't been crying so loudly Frankie was sure the thumping of her heart would've been audible.

"George- George," She spoke firmly, hands pressed to George's cheeks as she forced her to meet her eye. To be so harsh to a woman who needed nothing but softness ripped a hole through her, the guilt churning her stomach, but she needed to know. "Tell me what happened."

She nodded hurriedly, wiping her tears away with the backs of her hands. "They made it to Africa - we started getting messages through about an hour ago, but, uh..." George's lip trembled, and she sucked in a long, haggard breath. "Curt's dead, Frankie."

Lemmons let out some sort of strangled gasp as Frankie felt all of the blood drain from her face. For a moment she didn't know how to process the words, she just knew she needed to hold George - to hold her tight, tighter than anyone ever had. There was not an inch between them as she stroked a gentle hand through her golden hair, trying with all her might to keep breathing as she felt a warm tear roll down her cheek.

Over George's shoulder, she spied Ken making for the door, a frown casting a shadow over his boyish face. He met her eyes, and she offered him a nod, freeing him from the scene so he could inevitably tell the others.

The two women held each other for a long moment, Frankie's chin burrowed against George's collar. When she finally spoke, it was little more than a hoarse whisper, her throat suddenly dry as a bone.

"...And Bucky?"

Sniffing loudly, George pulled back, shaking her head. "No, no, he's okay. He made it to Algeria." Frankie hadn't released she was holding her breath until she let it escape her, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she nodded.

"Yeah? Yeah. Alright," She could worry about the others later - for now, knowing Egan was alive was enough to settle her drumming heart. "You need to go home, ok? You need to rest."

"My shift's not over, I still have to-"

"I am gonna walk up there myself and tell them you're not coming back today. Not tomorrow, neither. And if they've got a problem with that they can take it up with me - believe me, I don't give a shit if I take an insubordination charge over this."

A tearful smile broke out across George's face, holding onto Frankie's hand as it cupped her cheek. "Tangling with you? I don't fancy their chances."

Frankie chuckled, pulling her into one last hug and pressing her lips firmly to her temple. "Go, go. I'll see you soon, ok?"

"Yeah," She whispered against her neck, reaching out to squeeze her hand as she broke the hug, stepping backwards towards the door and disappearing.

As soon as she was alone, Frankie sucked in a long, laboured breath, collapsing into one of the rickety chairs that surrounded the table in the middle of the room. Doubling forward, she lay her head in her hands, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes as she focused on taking one breath after the next.

Since the war had begun, she had been cycling through phases of fear and calm, letting herself slip into the all too comfortable belief that it couldn't touch her here - couldn't take from her as long as she was home, as long as she was safe.

But God, how the world kept proving her wrong.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Almost a month had passed. Every mission took a toll, but the trip that had killed Curtis Biddick seemed to hang heavier than any other ever had.

Or perhaps it just seemed that way because of George.

Some nights Frankie would stay up late, rubbing exhaustion from her eyes as she fought to stay awake long enough to finish a chapter of her book, lit by the dim bulb of her bedside lamp. And then in the darkness she would hear a rustling, a casting aside of the course, army-issue bedsheets, and feel a weight press into the mattress beside her as George slipped under the covers, silently resting her head against Frankie's shoulder. She liked to listen to her heartbeat on the nights she felt most alone - when she felt the farthest from home, the most separated from the boy she almost loved - it brought her comfort to listen to that telltale sign of life radiating from the person closest to her. She had someone, and that was enough to live with.

Frankie had liked Curt, but she hadn't known him well. Sometimes she wished she had, if only so that she wouldn't feel so guilty, comforting her best friend over a loss she no longer felt so keenly. Instead, all she could do was softly whisper the words she was reading to her, and let her mere presence be the comfort as they both drifted off to sleep.

It had grown warm overnight, and the humidity combined with the heat of George's body burrowed close next to hers left Frankie slick with sweat by the time she woke up, her hair sticking to her neck in damp strands. Peeling the covers away as she clambered out of bed, careful not to disturb her sleeping friend, she made a beeline for the showers, hoping to wash away the unpleasant, sticky sensation that coated her skin. She was used to evening showers after a long day's work, and it felt strange to stare down at the hot water rolling off of her body and see it come away clear, clean, not streaked with the dirt and oil she was often coated with by the time she made it home each night.

Wringing her hair out with a towel as she made her way out of the bathroom, Frankie dodged the other women emerging from their beds as she reached her own area, her coveralls and workboots waiting for her on a nearby chair. George had moved back to her own bed, carefully removing each of the curlers she meticulously applied every night, just like all of the other servicewomen who were afforded the luxury of working indoors, a far cry from Frankie's reality. It wasn't that Frankie didn't like to dress up - she loved the chance to do her hair and makeup, to dress up and feel pretty for once - it just wasn't a practicality her profession afforded. Her hair needed to be out of the way, and it made no sense to waste money on makeup that would be ruined by sweat and grime within the hour.

"If Dye makes it back, there'll be a party tonight," George stated, watching her reflection as she looped her tie into a knot. "You gonna go?"

"Uh," Frankie considered this for a moment, sniffing her coveralls from the previous day and grimacing at the smell, switching them out for a clean pair. "Nah, not tonight, I don't think. I've already got some outstanding stuff from the last few days that needs sorting, it's gonna be a busy one."

"Alright, I'll see if Sandra and Helen are going."

"I'm glad you're going," Frankie smiled.

George's gaze turned to her, and she considered this for a moment before shrugging. "Can't sit here forever."

It was a fact that didn't need dwelling on, and Frankie wouldn't patronise her with praise. This was just the way their lives worked now. One by one, the women in their hut finished getting ready and left for their various jobs until Frankie was the only one left, locking up the front door as she exited. The burn that had scorched her palm had long since healed, leaving a mottled pink scar across her hand, but she could clutch the handlebars of her bike without pain now, so she had returned to her morning ritual of cycling as fast as she physically could to the airstrip, revelling in the feeling of the warm morning air blowing through her hair.

Dye's plane was swooping in as she arrived, and Frankie couldn't help but smile at the chorus of whoops and cheers that pierced the air, flight and ground crews alike lining the runway to await his valiant return. Twenty-five missions. She could barely fathom it. For as long as she could remember, planes like this had been her life, but she'd never flown in one - Dye had done it twenty-five times. The number boggled her, a reality so close to and yet so distinctly separate from her own.

"Frankie!" Lemmons called over from where he was sitting with a few of the local boys. The village kids had taken a shine to the young mechanic, and she found she rather enjoyed their presence, childish wit relieving the strain of their long working hours. She crossed the grass towards them as he spoke up again. "Gonna replace the panelling on the bombers from last week, you in?"

She shook her head, batting a hand dismissively. "Nah, you go enjoy the celebrations with the others, I'll handle it."

He frowned, a crease appearing between his brows. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, I hardly even know Dye, I'm not missing out. Take the night off, you deserve it."

A smile began to spread across his expression. "Well thanks, Frankie."

"No worries. Hey - did we get that delivery of rivets that was meant to come in?" Lemmons shook his head, and she shrugged. "Don't worry about it, I'll take a list to the boss of everything we need."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was growing dark, a work light on the tarmac illuminating one of the B-17 engines as she worked away at it, a pile of scattered tools littering the ground from where she had tried and failed to toss them back into her toolbox without paying proper attention. She could hear the muffled music far off in the distance, the lights from the party casting a golden reflection against the clouds like a beacon in the night. Tightening one of the bolts, Frankie prayed to herself that George was having fun.

The sound of footsteps approaching from behind alerted her to sudden company, but she was too engrossed in her work to turn. Besides, she could already guess who it was.

"Heya, Frankie," Bucky's voice came, and she suppressed a smirk at the accuracy of her prediction.

"Evenin'."

"We missed you at the party," He stated.

"Busy," She replied, letting out a grunt as she pinched the skin of her thumb with her wrench, flapping her hand for a moment to relieve the pain.

"Just came to see ya 'cause I don't think you've met Rosie yet."

Frankie let out a sigh, sliding her wrench into her pocket, speaking as she began to turn. "Bucky, if you boys have got yourselves another fucking dog, I swear-"

There was another man there, standing next to Egan, blue eyes watching her as she stumbled over her words, trailing to an awkward stop. She had a smear of oil across her forehead from where she had absent-mindedly wiped the sweat from her brow with a filthy hand, and Bucky pursed his lips tightly as he tried not to laugh.

"Not a dog," Rosie stated, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.

"No," She breathed, snapping herself out of her awkwardness. "No, uh, sorry - Frankie, I'm Frankie," Holding out her hand to shake, she noticed its filthiness and grimaced, swiftly retracting it.

"Frankie's one of our mechanics," Egan explained. "She'd be happiest if we fired the rest of the ground crew and let her do the whole thing herself."

"But then who'd clean the dog shit and vomit out for me, eh?" Frankie shrugged, a pink spatter colouring her cheeks. Bucky almost frowned, taken aback by her uncharacteristically awkward demeanour.

"Look, I promised Buck I'd only be gone five minutes, so," He looked down at his watch, shrugging.

"No, no, that's fine, you have a good night," Frankie smiled, wiping her dirty palms on the sides of her trousers.

Bucky turned to leave, pausing for a moment. "Rosenthal?"

"Oh, no, I was gonna head off anyway, thanks Major," Rosie nodded, and they lingered in silence for a moment after Egan left, his silhouette disappearing into the darkness down the runway.

"Sorry I thought you were a dog," She chuckled slightly, breaking the quiet as she rubbed her thumb where she'd pinched the skin, a red mark forming.

"Well," Rosie shrugged, standing with his hands in his pockets. "Been called worse."

Frankie smiled, a flash of teeth in her grin as she glanced back at the engine for a moment, the great thing looming over her in its frame. "And... sorry Bucky dragged you all the way out here, I'm sure the party is much more interesting, and-"

"Hey, you don't have to apologise," He shook his head. With the work light shining on them, it seemed to cast a halo around her head, brown hair running golden along its edges. Even covered in filth, she must've been one of the prettiest girls he'd seen in... well, he couldn't quite recall. "How long have you been out here?"

"Uh, what time is it - eight?"

Rosie let out a laugh. "Gone midnight."

"Jesus Christ," She flashed him a tired grin. "Shit, I missed dinner."

"Well," He shrugged. "I am a Captain. Sure we can find something."

"You're on," Frankie agreed, the empty feeling in her stomach suddenly amplified once she realised how long it had been since she'd eaten. "Although, I'd better clean up first," She noted, wiping her hands on one of the engine rags.

"By the way, you've got a little-" Rosie gestured to his own forehead.

"Oh, shit," Frankie muttered, reaching up with the rag and just managing to miss the oil stain. He let out a chuckle, stepping forward.

"Here, lemme just-" She offered up the rag, and he dabbed at the stain, which less went away than it did smudge even more. He furrowed his brow as he tried to get rid of it, and she couldn't help but let out a laugh at the sheer concentration in his expression, their faces far closer than she would ever usually allow with a man she'd only just met. But there was something endearing in him, something safe. "I think... I think I got it."

"Thanks," Frankie chuckled, taking back the rag and stepping back towards the Nissen hut. "I'm just gonna wheel this engine inside and wash the crap off my hands, then we can go."

"I await your return, milady," Rosie nodded, smile turning to a cringe as she turned away from him. What was that? Don't say that!

She smiled to herself as she entered the hut, her pleased expression turning to a grimace as she got a waft of herself, the twelve-hour shift out in the sun making itself known. Oh shit.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The mess hall was completely deserted, the only light coming from the kitchens as Frankie waited patiently for Rosie to return. He had volunteered to go and scrounge for food, confident that his rank would protect them if they were discovered, and she grinned as he returned, proudly carrying a large tin of peaches and a couple of bars of ration chocolate.

"Oh, perfect. Midnight feast," She beamed, taking a seat on one of the long benches that lined the tables as he sat down opposite, producing a tin opener from his pocket.

"Food fit for kings, I'd say," Rosie agreed, wrestling with the peaches for a moment until he was able to break the lid. Producing two forks, Frankie held one out to him, using her own to skewer a slice of the orange fruit.

"I'd just like to preface this by saying that I don't usually smell like this... actually, I do," She admitted, picking at some dirt stuck beneath her nail.

"Hey, I'm not judging - you wouldn't either once you'd smelled the inside of our flight suits," He shrugged, and she let out a huff of laughter, chewing on her peach slices, a droplet of sweet juice running down her lip. "So... how long've you been a mechanic?"

"Dad's been running an auto repair shop at home since before I was born, I grew up on it," Frankie explained, skewering another slice with one hand as she unwrapped her chocolate bar with the other. "He wanted to go over to France, help fix army jeeps, but he lost his foot in the Great War so they won't take him - I was born when he was away, see, he'd been over there for six months or so when a shell went off and he lost it. So the cars were all we had. I switched to planes when I was about fifteen - bit of an impractical hobby, but I've read every single book on it they had in Stratford library," She chuckled.

"Stratford... Shakespeare, right?"

Her brow raised. "Yeah. Right. Y'know I think the only good thing about this war is that the tourist buses have stopped coming around," She joked, and Rosie laughed, nodding along as he ate. Why was she telling him all this? In the last hour, he'd found out more about her than Bucky or Lemmons had in months. But she found she didn't feel embarrassed telling him any of it, the words just flowed naturally.

They sat there in the dim mess hall eating peaches until they started to feel sick, the hands of Rosie's watch ticking steadily past 1am by the time they left, making sure to hide all evidence of their midnight raid. It had begun to rain by the time they stepped out into the night air, and before Frankie could utter a single word of complaint he had shrugged off his uniform jacket and given it to her to hold over her head, her own makeshift shelter whilst his own curls fell flat, the water leaving dark streaks down his shirt.

"Are you sure about this?" She asked for what must have been the third time as they reached the end of her row of Nissen huts, Rosie's hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, his skin almost visible through the drenched state of his clothes.

"I said stop asking," He assured her, nodding confidently despite the visible trembling in his shoulders.

"I'm just worried I'm gonna ruin your jacket."

"Well, it'd die for a worthy cause."

Frankie grinned, slowing to a stop as she reached the front door of her hut. The lights were all off inside, not a single sign of life as her bunkmates enjoyed their well-earned sleep. When she spoke again, it was in whispers, careful not to wake them even despite the hammering of rain against the metal roof.

"Thank you for dinner, it was... unexpected."

"Very," Rosie nodded in agreement, mirroring her smile. She handed over his jacket, and he folded it, tucking it beneath his arm, already well past its usefulness.

"Tomorrow's gonna be a rough morning."

"Take the day off, have a lie-in, you deserve it."

She raised a brow, and he laughed. "You know I won't."

"I suspected as much," He agreed, nodding firmly. "G'night, Frankie."

"Goodnight."

Frankie slipped carefully inside, cautious not to make a sound as she crept over to her bed, stripping off her wet coveralls as she reached quickly for her nice, warm pyjamas.

When George's whispered voice broke the silence, she swore she almost had a heart attack. "You've been... working?"

"Something like that," Frankie shrugged, taking the fact she was awake as a sign of consent to turn her lamp on, giving her the light she needed to untie her boots. "Have you met the new Captain?"

"Who, Rosenthal? No. Why?"

She didn't answer for a long moment, buttoning up her pyjama shirt before flicking off the lamp, plunging the room into total darkness as she climbed beneath the blankets, letting out a satisfied sigh at the warmth.

"He's nice."

George let the silence simmer for a moment, her tone laced with suspicion. "... Right."

[bijouxcarys]

Ties That Bind {CHAPTER 14 TEASER}

Masterlist

Silence settled over the room once more as everyone assessed the Wise Man’s words. And, unfortunately for him, it was Sami who chose to break it. 

“R-Roman… Maybe we should just take a break. Look over all the files with fresh eyes? I’m sure—”

“You’re sure what?” Roman cut him off, tilting his head at the redhead who just sat there, looking like a deer in headlights. “I asked you a question.”

Sami swallowed, hands fumbling together in his lap. “I-I’m sure we could find something… A pattern or something that we didn’t see before…”

Roman stared at him, nodding his head slowly, eyes narrowing as he stood up from his place on the couch. “A pattern…” he mumbled, strolling over to the chair Sami was perched on. “Always somethin’, huh?”

Sami’s eyes darted back and forth between Roman and Jimmy. “Wh–”

“Always got a little thought or opinion.”

“I was just s—”

“Are you tryin’ to be me?” Roman asked with a chilling softness as he peered down his nose at Sami.

Sami’s face dropped, and he stuttered. “W-what?”

“You wanna be the Tribal Chief? You wanna make the decisions?” 

The newest member of The Bloodline opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Roman’s gaze was burning through him.

“You want my seat?” he barked, his voice growing louder with each word. “You think you can run this? You think you can handle it?” He leaned in, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Tell me, Sami. Do you wanna be me?”

“No, no, I—” Sami stammered, but Roman wasn’t interested in listening.

“Non mentirmi!” Roman spat, slamming his hand against the back of Sami’s chair, face twitching with unbridled rage. “You think I don’t see you? Think I don’t notice? I see everything. And I see you. Sittin’ there, always tryin’ to worm your way in. Always wanting to have a little bit more control. But you’re not me. You’ll never be me, and you better remember that.”

Sami swallowed hard, face paling as Roman’s fury hit full force.

Paul shifted uncomfortably but said nothing. He knew better than to intervene when Roman was like this. The twins exchanged uneasy glances but didn’t move. Solo remained stoic, watching on, but even he knew this wasn’t the time to speak.

Before anyone could say anything more, Roman’s phone buzzed on the table. His jaw clenched as he glanced at it.

Nate.

Finally.

;

Tags: @trippinsorrows @empressdede @thetribalqueen @heauxvibez @bigsimperika

@cyberdejos2 @keyaho @headoftheetable @jstarr86 @southerngirl41

@tshepisho @cry1nwhileimcumm1n @maeb99 @thedesireds @dzdndcnfsd

@expert-texpert @niknakbucks92 @sillyteecup @trentybenty @pittieprincess22

[stromuprisahat]

‘Well, sir,’ returned I, ‘I hope you’ll consider that Mrs. Heathcliff is accustomed to be looked after and waited on; and that she has been brought up like an only daughter, whom every one was ready to serve. You must let her have a maid to keep things tidy about her, and you must treat her kindly. Whatever be your notion of Mr. Edgar, you cannot doubt that she has a capacity for strong attachments, or she wouldn’t have abandoned the elegancies, and comforts, and friends of her former home, to fix contentedly, in such a wilderness as this, with you.’ ‘She abandoned them under a delusion,’ he answered; ‘pic turing in me a hero of romance, and expecting unlimited in dulgences from my chivalrous devotion. I can hardly regard her in the light of a rational creature, so obstinately has she persisted in forming a fabulous notion of my character and acting on the false impressions she cherished. But, at last, I think she begins to know me: I don’t perceive the silly smiles and grimaces that provoked me at first; and the senseless incapability of discerning that I was in earnest when I gave her my opinion of her infatuation and herself. It was a marvellous effort of perspicacity to discover that I did not love her. I believed, at one time, no lessons could teach her that! And yet it is poorly learnt; for this morning she announced, as a piece of appalling intelligence, that I had actually succeeded in making her hate me! A positive labour of Hercules, I assure you! ... ’

Ellen ‘Nelly’ Dean × Heathcliff; Wuthering Heights- Chapter 14 (Emily Brontë)

I'm just picturing Heathcliff kicking a puppy, while Isabella dances around, hands folded above her heart, singing something about bad boys, who are soft on the inside.

[mlmshipbracket]

ROUND ONE: POLL #14

ROUND 1 ALL POLLS [HERE]

PROPAGANDA BELOW

Noe Archiviste/Vanitas:

light spoilers for the main plot + the quotes are pretty meaningful so they count as spoilers too ig

they were made for each other, literally. When they first met, the first thing they did was fighting. hell, noe even said he didn't like vanitas as a person. they're a human and a vampire. they're almost always together, and their relationship grows gradually and in a very beautiful way, at least to me.

vanitas, who despises himself to the point of pushing away everybody, starts letting himself go with noe, who believes in him, and quite literally said he'll never leave him alone (as vanitas' concept of freedom is being alone). ah also they're doomed. since the first ever chapter, noe says that he will kill vanitas with his own hands, and the whole series is narrated by (future) noe's pov. in fact all the chapters are called "mémoire" and each have a title. 

idk if it counts, but i'll leave here some quotes from both of them.

vanitas:

“I have absolutely no interest in the sort of person who would fall for me.” + "It’s revolting! The thought of someone falling for a person like me…” 

“…Why… can’t I… kill… Why!? Wh… why…?” [referred to noe]

“If I— …get to choose how I die… If I can… wish, then… If I’m going to be killed I want Noé to do it.”

noe:

“That… was the beginning. This is… the tale of how I met Vanitas… and how we walked together… Of all we gained… and lost… And of how… at the end of that journey… I would kill him with my own two hands.”

“He’s bad-tempered. He always does whatever he wants, arbitrarily. He doesn’t care whether he gets hurt but he can’t abide others getting hurt for his sake. He tries to isolate himself by pushing everyone away. —I see. When he says ‘free’… does he mean ‘alone’?”

“My name is Noé!!! I am not ‘that Vampire’!!!! Listen to me, Vanitas. I refuse to be what you want me to be. I will never set you ‘free’!!!”

Elim Garak/Julian Bashir:

The actors both consider the ship to be canon and have actually preformed fanfiction with the characters as a couple before. It called "Little Achievements" and it's posted on Sid City's YouTube page.

Andrew Robinson (who played Garak) has straight up said that multiple of his lines were delivered with romantic intent.

[princesspastel8]

Chapter 14: Escape

Third POV

Alcor holds his hands out, white slick gloves appearing onto them. A long demon like tail growls from the tail bone, bat like wings growing from his back. Alcor snaps his neck, cracking his knuckles.

"Now let's go greet the pines family." He chuckles darkly, melting the metal door down.

The demon slowly walks up the stairs, leaving a trail of yellow flames behind him. Once he makes it to the back of the vending machine, he touches it lightly. The machine crumbles loudly, morphing into a tiny metal box.

"Mable, get back! It's dangerous!" Alcor hears Stan shout from the living room.

"Go into my lab and get more weapons! Make sure not to talk to Dipper!" Ford orders.

"Sir yes sir grunkles!" Mable said, rushing into the kitchen. She freezes, eyes clouding with fear at the sight of alcor.

A wicked, amusing smile forms on his lips. "Ah, so you're lively Mable I kept hearing in this boy's head, huh? You don't look like much. Heh, to think they favored you...." he said, frowning.

"Wh-wh...what are you?!" She forces out, her body trembling and voice cracking.

"Oh, Satan, your voice is so loud. And the look in your eyes is disgusting. Where's that joy? That care free spirit I keep hearing so much about? Huh?!" Alcor shout, taking slow menacing steps towards her.

"St-st-stay back!" Mable shouts, pulling out a ray gun from behind her back. With shaking hands, she aims for his head, firing the shot.

Alcor eyes widen. He quickly moves out of the way, his smile returning. "Oh shit! You almost got me there, little brat. And what aim....that aim could cause issues for Bill and Dipper." He ponders. "Now, how do I fix this...issue? Any ideas, little brat?"

Mable answers with another shot, this time aimed at his stomach.

Alcor chuckles, a hole forming in his stomach before the blast could hit him. He looks down at it with a pout. "Oh dear....you're no fun. I guess I'll have to come up with all the ideas." He shrugs.

He points his finger at Mable, slowly lifting her body off of the ground. Mable gasps, feeling pressure tighten around her neck. Alcor balls his fist, causing her body to remain still and stiff.

"Let's take a trip to see those old grunkles of yours, shall we?" He laughs, walking out of the kitchen, a floating Mable next to him as he continues to leave a trail of yellow flames behind him.

Alcor walks into the living room with a heavy sigh. The former mystery twins are nowhere to be seen. His ear twitches, picking up a loud banging sound coming from outside. Alcor goes to investigate, raising an eyebrow at the scene before him.

There stands the grunkles, trying to get Bill's minions away from the shield that's protecting the shack. They all punch, kick, and blast at the shield, not leaving a single scratch. Alcor claps his hands in a slow, mockingly manner.

"Wow! What a show! You pesky little useless minions can't even break a simple shield? Haha! And on top of that, two old humans are kicking your asses! I can't - this is too much!" He shouts, bending over from laughter.

Ford and Stan quickly aim their weapons at the unknown powerful force. Before they can fire, Alcor raises his index finger in the air.

"Ah ah ah!" He chuckles, waving his finger from side to side. "You wouldn't want to harm a demon in glasses, would you?" He jokes, a pair of big black glasses appearing over his eyes.

Stan and Ford do not look amused, instead annoyed with their fingers set ready on the trigger. Alcor rolls his eyes, Mable now in front of him.

"Jeez, tough crowd. How about....if either one of you fires at me, her heart will be at your feet. Understood?" Alcor smiles, it stretching from ear to ear.

Their eyes widen, shock and fear taking over their being. "Who the hell are you?! Another one of Bill's puppets?!" Stan shouts in distress.

"Drop those toys of yours, and I might answer." Alcor fires back with a boring yawn.

Ford stares at the creature, analyzing its appearance. His mouth hangs open in disbelief. "N-no... you can't be....AXOLOTL banished you to the Milky Way billions of years ago!"

Alcor looks at Ford with interest and mischief. "My my...someone's been doing their research...you knowing who and what I am could be a issue...sigh! So many issues!" He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. He then shrugs, waving his hand in the air, causing the weapons to fly out of the grunkles' hands. "Good thing I know.....a few ways to deal with these issues."

Yellow colored chains shoot out from the palm of his hand, wrapping around Stan and Ford tightly. The two fall to the ground with a loud 'tud'. Alcor forces Mable onto her knees, her head facing up at him. He lowers himself slightly, placing a hand over Mabel's cheek.

"Shhhhhhh. Why do you humans cry? Is it out of fear? Anger? Frustration? For whatever reason, to me, crying is annoying." He said darkly, a eerie sound lacing his voice. He glances at the grunkles, a sinister idea popping into his head.

"You know... it's been soooooooo long since I had a taste of human flesh! And why waste this delicious meal for a disappointing soul? Hope you two enjoy this...lesson on how to butcher a human. Live torture is the best torture, after all." He hums.

Alcor quickly plunges his gloved thumb into Mabel's right eye, scoping it out perfectly. The sounds of her agonizingly screams and blood pouring from her eye socket, egging him on. A simple white plate appears next to her head. He places the eye on the clean plate, his other hand forcing Mabel's mouth to stay open.

He tightens his grip, smiling wickedly at the sobbing human. He forces his hand down her throat, gripping her tongue. He pulls it out swiftly, laughing at the sounds of her choking on her blood. He places the tongue on the plate, pushing her body to the ground.

"Eh, that's enough for now. This will do." Alcor hums, salt and pepper shakers floating next to the plate as well as a fork and a knife. He sprinkles the seasonings onto his meal, grabbing the fork and knife afterward.

The grunkles can do nothing but watch in horror while Bill's minions watch in shock & amusement. "The tongue of a liar and an eye of a deceiver....this should be good!" He licks his lips while cutting into the eye.

He picks up the piece with his fork, taking a slow bite. He sighs is  satisfaction, "Wow! For a foul human, you sure do produce some goodies!" He geeks, eating more of his meal.

Mable whimpers, slowly losing consciousness from the pain. "You monster! I'll stop you!" Ford shouts with determination.

"Yeah! What poindexter said! You'll pay for hurting our great niece!" Stan shouts, struggling against the yellow chains.

A napkin appears in alcor hands once he finishes his meal. He wipes his mouth clean, the other objects disappearing. "Oh really? And with what?"

The grunkles notices the burning shack, coated in yellow flames. Alcor laughs, walking towards Ford. "You really think you know everything? You know what I am, where I'm from yet...I don't think you know how to kill me. Do you?" He questions, his demeanor changing as he places a hand on Ford's shoulder.

Ford cowards back, swallowed by fear and helplessness. Alcor chuckles darkly, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. "Yeah, I thought so. Hope you enjoy jewelry, you old brainiac." He said as Ford's body quickly turns to a gold colored stone.

Once Ford is turned to stone, Alcor shrinks him, tying a string around Ford's small neck. Alcor then places his newly made necklace around his neck. He turns his attention to Stanley, surprised at how collected the old hag appears to me.

"Hm....no fear....I'm sensing so much pride from you. So much so that it's disgusting....you could be an issue too..." Alcor sneers.

He places his hands onto Stan's head, chanting incantations. Stanley's eyes slowly roll to the back of his skull, his eyes crying tears of blood. His body begins convulsing, a sign that the spell is working. Alcor pulls back, smirking at Stan's motionless body.

He smiles at his work, taking mental images and storing them into his memories. He hasn't had this much fun in millenia. He looks at his fellow demons on the other side of the shield. "Ah yes, Bill sent you to get his poor little pinetree back. How romantic!" He mocks in disgust.

He places his hand on the shield, watching it slowly melt into yellow colored magma. He laughs at the demons expression. "It wasn't that hard! You demons must be seriously weak if you couldn't break down that simple human-made shield! Bill has honestly lost his taste in 'friends'." He declares with air quotation marks.

"H-how do we know your Dipper?!" The female creature questions with a stutter.

Alcor rolls his eyes, clearing his throat with a cough. "Oh Bill~, I'll do anything for you! Just use me like one of your broken toys!" He mimics in Dipper's voice, making everyone laugh except for Pacifier.

Alcor notices and frowns, waving his index finger up, causing the demon to float. "Aw.. someone didn't appreciate my little joke! Now, why is that?" He smiles, but his tone conveys differently.

Pacifier quickly regrets his choices. "N-no reason! I just didn't hear you is all." He lies.

Alcor frowns, his hand now a fist. He places pressure onto the demons throat. "These petty and disappointing lies are really....really annoying to me. Lesson one! Never ever lie to me." He voiced, waving his hand in the direction of Bill's castle sending pacifier flying.

"Wow....nice shot." The demon with an eight ball for an eye said.

"Thank you. So to prevent any more misunderstandings, let's have a little lesson while on the way to dear old Bill's Palace of horror! Sounds fun?"

Everyone quickly agrees. Alcor smiles, clasping his hands together while slightly floating off the ground. "Good! Now on we go!"

[xoxo-sarah]

I Wanna Be Yours || Part 13

Part 12 | part 14

↝a/n: You guys can hate Jessica all you want, but she has my heart. Just because she has her moments (especially this chapter) doesn't mean anything... I support women's rights and wrongs. (Kinda joking) Also, three updates back to back is a new record for me. Bro Nancy verbally beats reader up ngl.

↝pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!Wheeler!reader

↝ Warning: not proofread, possible spoilers, cannon events, angst, fluff???, mean Nancy, kissing, reader having self doubt? And blaming herself for everything possible??, Chrissy mentioned, weird old man makes a cameo, harassment?? Idk, Jessica makes a cameo, not proofread

↝⎙ 8.1.24

This might be the first time you’ve ever stolen an RV from a trailer park. There’s a first for everything, you suppose.

“Fire and Rain” by James Taylor played over the radio.

Steve drove the vehicle/small house, trying to navigate to the War Zone store Eddie has suggested.

The rest of the kids sat in the middle of the RV, opposite of the joined kitchen area. You, Robin, and Dustin sat in the back, sprawled across the couch.

Robin sat up, smacking Dustin on the arm. Cursing, he looked up, confused.

“Get lost.” She pointed toward Eddie.

Rolling his eyes, he reluctantly got up, flopping beside Eddie.

Robin turned her body to you, watching as you picked at your nail beds. A terrible habit you’ve had since you were a child. She cleared her throat, stopping your movement and catching your eye as you looked up. “You okay?” Without missing a beat, you nodded. She knew better. “What happened with Nance-” She tried to reassure you, but you didn’t let her finish.

“Robin,” You sighed, knowing exactly where she was going.

“You shouldn't beat yourself up about it.” She continued, “If you were to ask me about Steve’s favorite song, I’d be blank. And I’m constantly around him.”

“It’s different. She’s my sister.”

“And she’s never told you her favorite song-”

“I never asked.”

She sat in silence for a moment, racking her brain around what to say to make you feel better. “Well, what’s yours?”

“What?”

“Your favorite song-what is it?”

Looking into her eyes, you knew. She wasn’t asking just to get to know you. She knew. You knew that she knew. After a moment of staring into her eyes, you shifted in your seat, reaching into your pocket. Fiddling with the cassette you had stolen from Max's trailer, you couldn't bring yourself to look into her eyes this time around.

“Don’t tell them, please.” You whispered, looking at where Steve and Nancy were in deep conversation at the front.

“How long? The symptoms, I mean.” She bit her lip, bringing her leg under herself to sit on it, turning her body even more toward you.

There wasn’t any sense in lying to her.

“A few days. The nightmares started before-before Chrissy.”

Robin nodded, deep in thought.

“Has he…” She didn’t know how to ask the question. But a newfound hatred bubbled in her stomach

Along with a new fear.

“No. I saw the clock for a split second, but that was it.”

“Time’s up!” Vecna’s voice rang in your head.

“Maybe he’s just using you, like he did Nance.” She offered, but you only shook your head. “No, Robin. It’s different. Nance blames herself for Barb. It’s not only Chrissy that’s bothering me.”

“What is it?”

‘You.’

“There’s just things that I haven't told anybody.”

“You can tell me.” She brought her hand forward, a warmth forming in your stomach as her thumb drew comforting shapes on your arm.

You almost spilled every secret then and there. Her touch was so soft, so warm. Her eyes were so pretty, lips so pink and soft looking. Maybe you stared at her lips too long because they parted, a deep, surprised inhale making you look away, cheeks ablaze. You two sat in silence, until Steve pulled into the parking lot, parking on the side to hide the stolen vehicle with a wanted man hiding in it.

Standing up, you made your way to the front, catching the last bit of Nancy and Steve’s conversation, hearing your name.

“What?”

Steve looked up at you, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Nancy simply scoffed, “We don’t have to tell you everything.” The venom was back in her voice. You weren’t aware of why. She rolled her eyes, standing from her seat.

“I was just asking ‘cause I thought I heard my name.”

“We were just thinking-” Steve tried, his voice lacking the venom that Nancy had.

“You should go home. See how Mom and Dad are doing.”

Steve threw his hands up, giving up trying to help the situation.

“Nancy, we’ve been over this. Plus, it will only make everything worse, since Dustin and the kids ran away. They'll just bombard me with questions.”

“Exactly, you can keep them distracted.”

“But I want to help you guys-”

“Like you did in the Upside Down?”

Your mouth shut, eyes shifting between her own, seeing the hatred. You had tried wrapping your brain around what you had done to her for her to hate you. Nancy Wheeler, always the one to be in charge. Give orders. Make you feel less than, even if she didn’t realize it. How were you supposed to know her favorite song? It's not like she knew yours.

Feeling a stinging sensation behind your eyes, you quickly turned, jumping out of the RV, going into the store.

Swinging the door open, the stale, cold air hits your face. You could imagine this being a hunter’s heaven. Knives, camping tents and gear, guns, survival supplies, and clothes. You weren’t sure what you needed exactly. Something to make a weapon to kill or at least hurt Vecna with. But you walked further into the store, seeing metal cans of kerosene and other flammable things, mostly used to light a fire in the wild. Walking past aisles of weapons like axes, chainsaws, a taxidermy moose, knives, more metal cans, gas, fishing supplies, and hunting supplies.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ in here alone?” A gravelly voice spoke behind you. Turning around, you watched as a middle-aged man smiled, yellow, rotten teeth showing. 25 years worth of smokers lung evident in the shake of his voice.

Before you could vocalize your disgust, a silky voice spoke, “She’s with me.”

A hand touched your arm, a familiar feeling. Newly painted nails glittered in the high fluorescent, Finally, you caught the pair of green eyes.

The guy scoffed, pushing his cart away, probably in search to harass another young girl.

With her confidence, Jessica could make anyone recoil in their seat, rethinking their life decisions. She could always belittle any man who wanted to be a creep. “I Didn’t think this was your scene.”

You glanced down at her outfit, quirking a brow. “Didn’t think it was yours either.” she smiled at that, pushing her hair out of her face.

“I heard about Chrissy.” Her smile was gone, face laced with sympathy. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know how close you guys were.”

“Yeah,” you swallowed hard, glancing at the concrete floor, “Trying to keep myself busy and not think about it.”

“You know that’s not going to end well.”

That was a low blow, and she knew it.

“Y/n-” Steve and Robin swerved the cart into the aisle, freezing when they saw how close the two of you were standing. Jessica looked between you and Robin, before taking a step back. She gave you a sad smile, “When you’re not so scared of admitting who you are, you know where I live.” She said it loud enough for Robin and Steve to hear, leaving you there to deal with their quizzical stare. You were frozen as Jessica strutted away.

“Jason and his goons are here.” Steve broke the silence.

You grabbed the nearest thing that would be of use in fighting Vecna, threw it in the cart, and walked away from the awkward moment.

Steve yanked the door of the RV open, everyone rushing in.

“What happened?” Lucas jumped from his chair, startled.

“We gotta go.” Steve threw Eddie’s jacket back at him, now wearing one he bought in the store, immediately sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Your old friends are here.” Erica rushed in, sitting beside Lucas.

Everyone else packed in, sitting down as Steve started the vehicle, rushing out of the parking lot.

Overstimulated wasn’t the word to describe you right now.

Since getting on the main road, you had all settled back in your original seats. It was silent for a while, no one knowing what to say after everything. Once someone broke the silence, Robin found the perfect time to start talking to you again. “Who, uh, who was that?”

“An old friend.”

“Seemed like more than a friend. Did you-were you two…” She didn’t know how to phrase it. Was it rude to ask? Was it crossing a line? Curiosity killed the cat.

“Yeah,” You finally said, avoiding her eyes. “We were…a thing. I guess.”

“Oh.”

Oh?

Your stomach turned. If you were going to die, you didn’t see any point in keeping secrets anymore. Why spend your last days lying to others and yourself?

It still didn’t change the fact that you were scared of her reaction. What if she considered you to be a gross person simply because of your sexuality?

Chrissy had told you time and time again that Robin wouldn’t be one to judge you. Maybe she saw something you didn't. You hoped she was right.

You were a shell of your old self. Robin noticed it. Nancy noticed it, but opted to focus on the issue at hand: Vecna.

When Chrissy died, a part of you went along with her.

You had moments where the agony wasn't clawing its way up your back, up your neck, causing your throat to hurt as to not sob your heart out. Teasing the boys always put a small smile on your face. It never reached your eyes, Robin had taken note of. The smile that she once found contagious was nowhere in sight. She wanted you to smile again, to laugh, go find joy in the world. Who knows if there will even be a world to find joy in by the time Vecna take his next victim.

Steve parked the RV in a grassy area, away from town. Everyone jumped out of the RV, going to different places in the grass, enough room around each. Thankfully so, as Dustin and Eddie began jumping around with their hand-made weapon of choice.

“Mom is probably worried sick.”

That was the first of the many crude comments Nancy had targeted towards you in the last 35 minutes.

“I'm sure she'll be fine.”

“You shouldn't be here.” You didn't appreciate the snip of her tone, as if talking to you was a waste of breath.

“I'm here to help.” Your voice was calm, almost like you were talking to a wild animal that could pounce any second. But she wasn't an animal, she was your sister. You shouldn't have to be hesitant to talk to her.

“You shouldn't be.”

“Why not?”

She turned quickly, a look in her eyes you couldn't decipher, “Your best friend is dead. She died, and you have not shed a single tear. You don't care enough to help.” Robin's mouth formed a straight line, knowing that wasn't true. She had heard you try to silent your sobs as everyone slept. She knew you didn't sleep at all, guilt eating you alive, no matter how much she tried to reassure you.

Hell, she could tell neither of the Wheeler women had slept, with the evident dark circles under your eyes matched.

Your voice was barely heard, barely even a whisper as you began talking, eyes staring into your sister's, which were full to the brim with anger. “Chrissy,” you looked away from her, staring up at a cloud in the sky, feeling the sting behind your eyes. “Chrissy died a cruel death. The thought that I might have been able to stop it haunts me.” Your eyes met hers again. “You'd surely know the feeling.”

Although your voice was soft, your words weren't. It was as if the wound of losing Barb was reopened and gushing.

“GO HOME!” Nancy stood, huffing, after she had just yelled at the top of her lungs. All eyes were on her as you stood, mouth agape.

She pointed to the RV, “Get your stuff and leave.”

“Nance-” Steve stepped forward, trying to level with her. But she wasn't having it. She turned, stalking off towards where Max stood.

You didn't waste any time, walking the opposite of her, straight into the tiny RV door.

Steve followed Nancy as Robin followed you.

When she entered through the door, you were packing up the bit of clothes and other things you bought at the War Zone store, stuffing everything harshly into the plastic bags.

She walked over to the bag, starting to take everything back out, putting it where it was before.

“What are you doing?” You had stopped putting the stuff that she took out back in, clearly aggravated.

“You can't leave.” She's right, you couldn't leave. Max needed you. Even if Nancy didn't want you to be here.

“I just need fresh air.” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

Robin's hands moved to hover over your shoulder. You feared, if she had actually made contact with your skin, you'd disappear right there. “We can walk outside for a minute. Together.”

Oh, goodness' sake.

“You're too nice.” You smiled. Like, actually smiled for the first in what felt like years.

“Only to you.” She returned your smile. It was the first time she'd seen you actually smile in a couple of days. She'd do anything to keep it on your beautiful face.

“I don't know what is going on with Nance.” You whispered, as if Nancy would hear and begin yelling at you again. You sounded exhausted.

“She's just stressed.”

“Yeah, well, we all are.” You tried to be understanding after what had happened with Nancy and Vecna, but you could only take so much. You weren't a punching bag.

She didn't respond, nodding instead. Her eyes slowly trailed your whole face. You were beyond tired.

There were a few moments of pure silence as you two just watched the other. The difference specks in her eyes danced around her iris. Her eyes were so beautiful.

She watched your lips as you began talking again, “she's just so annoyed over every little thing these da-”

Her lips were on yours. They were so soft. So soft. Robin could taste the strawberry chapstick that was only slightly there. It all felt so real.

She jerked back, eyes blown wide.

“Oh my God. I didn't mean to kiss- I mean, I guess I did. But I shouldn't have just went in like that. You were talking-but you're so beautiful and your lips just looked so-”

Her mouth closed as you turned her head towards you with the tips of your fingers. You were almost too scared to touch her any other way that wasn't this gentle. She stared into your eyes, searching for anything-any giveaway that the kiss was a mistake.

“You're beautiful.” You whispered. Her ears reddened as she recalled what it was that she actually said. Truthfully, she hadn't focused or thought about the words coming out of her mouth. You smiled, “Can you kiss me again? Maybe don't pull away this time.”

This was actually happening. The girl you had fancied for so long actually kissed you.

Her eyes crinkled as she bashfully smiled, glancing down at your playful grin. She slowly leaned back into you. Her hands went up to the sides of your face, fingers skimming back and forth on your cheeks. She smiled, noses brushing, before her lips connected to yours.

After a few seconds, she began mumbling through the kiss, not wanting to fully move away to talk clearly. A word or two between each kiss. “I regret” kiss “not” kiss “kissing you” kiss “sooner.” She felt you smile against her lips. Everything felt real again.

Maybe it wasn't the feeling of it being real, but the feeling of the real world not feeling real. The world outside of kissing you was falling apart. She'd much rather have her lips on you. Hopefully, you did too.

“Listen, Y/n-”

You rushed to get away from each other, turning to where the voice came from.

Steve stood, grinning from ear to ear. He turned, calling out before he shut the door. “Finally!”

You chewed on your bottom lip, sitting in awkward silence until Robin broke it, “I owe him twenty bucks.” She sighed, turning back to you.

You plopped in one of the chairs at the tiny dining table, scrubbing at your face with your palm.

She followed your movement, sitting across from you. “What is it?”

Her stomach twisted, her mind racing. Did you regret it? Was the kiss bad?

“Terrible timing.”

“Oh.”

She stared at you, then at your fingernails. The skin around was red and raw, a tale tells sigh that you were anxious. “I think it's going to be fine-”

“Robin, be realistic.”

Her mouth shut in a thin line, not knowing what else to say. It was silent again. It wasn't uncomfortable this time around. The weight was off your chest and it felt amazing. Reaching across the wooden table, she caressed your hand, feeling it relax.

“We're going to try to kill this Vecna creep. And you're not gonna have to worry about him or the headaches or the nightmares,” she trailed off, licking her lips. “ We do need to be safe though."

Letting go of your hand, she reached into the plastic bag, pulling out the Walkman she had found in one of the TV's drawers. You watched as she popped in the cassette you showed her earlier, and handed it to you. “Try to sleep.” She stood, patting your arm before walking towards the door of the RV.

“Chrissy,” Robin turned, watching as you tried to recover from your voice breaking. “She tried to get me to talk to you-tell you how I felt. She never judged me or pushed me to tell you.” Maybe you were trauma dumping, but it was all piling up. You couldn't go another second of holding it all in.

She knew a fraction of what that felt like. Seeing Steve getting strangled by the demobats, it wasn't a nice feeling. She couldn't imagine what actually losing him would be like.

“I just let her go. I let her fight whatever it was alone, I let her deal with her parents alone.”

“You didn't know. You can't fix something you didn't know needed fixing.”

“She showed signs-”

“She tried not to. It's not your fault, y/n.”

“I should've-”

“No.” She walked back over, crouching in front of you," You're not at fault here. Stop thinking you could've stopped it. This just happened out of nowhere, what were you going to do? We still don't know if we can even defeat Vecna. All we can do is try."

Numbly nodding, you stared into her eyes, feeling her wipe the tears that silently cascaded down your cheeks. She leaned forward, lightly pecking your lips. It felt natural, like you've done it for years. You could get used to it. “Take a nap while Dustin isn't yelling about God knows what.”

You watched her walk away, closing the creaky door behind her. Your head fell against the window, headphones over your ears and music playing, as sleep quickly consumed you.

For once, you didn't have a nightmare. You didn't have any dreams, actually. You woke up, refreshed, after not sleeping for a few days. Vecna wasn't in your head. Chrissy's cries weren't ringing in your ears. Your parents weren't yelling at you about how you're a disappointment. It was simply silent.

People like to call that the calm before the storm.

•© 2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

• My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [!I don't give permission!]

🫧 Taglistׂׂ ૢ ~ @overtrred28 @ihatepeanutss @jovana1234578 @dobbycarl @kyleeservopoulos @marirxse @ch-3-rry

[canirove]

In The Name of Love | Chapter 26

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"Pedri?"

"Shh, go back to sleep."

"What time is it?" I yawn.

"Early."

"Then why are you up?"

"I'm just going to the bathroom, go back to sleep" he says, kissing my head.

"Ok" I murmur, already half asleep.

When I wake up again, he isn't next to me, but there is a bouquet of white roses laying where he should be.

"What the…" I say while stretching and taking the note he's left with the flowers.

Had to buy these in a new florist, and do you know what they told me? That white roses also mean eternal love and that that's why brides put them on their bouquets. But I'm not going to ask you to marry me, don't worry 😂 What I'm telling you with these flowers is that our love is gonna be like that. Eternal.  I love you, Val. Happy anniversary 🤍 P.S. Yes, there are 14 roses 😉

"Aww, Pepi" I chuckle before grabbing my phone and texting him, though he had beaten me to it.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Happy anniversary, Val. I love you 🤍

Happy anniversary, Pedri I love you too 🤍 And thank you for the flowers

Did you like them? White roses are our flower

I loved them. The note too 🤍

Wasn't it too cheesy?

It was perfect 🤍

Aww, Val 🥺🤍

Where are you btw?

Kitchen

But don't come downstairs just yet

Why?

Because I say so

🙄

It'll be worth it, you'll see 😊

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Val, are you decent?" Pedri says from his room's door.

"As if you hadn't seen everything that is to see" I reply, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah, but you never know. Happy anniversary, by the way" he smiles.

"You already said that" I laugh.

"Yes, but by text, not in person" he says, letting himself fall on the bed next to me and hugging me. "I love you."

"And I love you too" I reply, kissing his nose. "Am I allowed to go to the kitchen now? I'm famished."

"You are, yes. But don't you want to stay here and cuddle for a bit?"

"I want to eat."

"You can eat me" he smirks, making me roll my eyes again. "Ok, ok. Shall we, then?" he says, quickly getting up and offering me his hand.

"Yes. Let's go see what you've cooked for today. No pun intended."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"That was the best breakfast ever. Are you sure you made it all?"

"You can call my mum and ask her if you don't believe me" Pedri says. "We've been practicing together over facetime for the past two weeks."

"Just to make me breakfast on our anniversary?"

"Just to make you breakfast on our anniversary" he repeats with a big smile.

"Have I ever told you that you are the cutest human being ever?"

"A few times, yes" he chuckles. "But there is more."

"More?"

"Yep. We have a lunch date too. Though until we have to start getting ready for that, we have some time to kill."

"And have you thought about what we could do?" I ask, lifting an eyebrow.

"I thought about going out for a walk around the neighborhood."

"What?"

"Don't you want to do that?"

"I mean… I was expecting you to say something else."

"Something like what, Val?" he says, now being the one who lifts one of those perfect eyebrows of his.

"Well… you know… earlier you wanted to cuddle. So maybe we could do that… while naked" I shrug.

"If I had suggested that, you would have told me that I always think with my dick."

"But today it is our anniversary, you are allowed to."

"Oh, ok… Cuddling while naked, then?" Pedri smirks.

"Cuddling while naked" I giggle before he offers me his hand again and we go back to his room. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Why do I have to have this on in the car?" I complain while adjusting the eye mask he has made me wear. 

"I already told you, Val. I don't want you to guess where we are going" Pedri sighs.

"But it is making me feel claustrophobic. And I'm sure it is leaving a mark on my face. What will people think when they see me?"

"We are going to be alone, don't worry about that."

"Did you close a restaurant just for the two of us?"

"Kind of."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I swear to God, Pedro. If you drop me…"

"I will if you keep fidgeting like that" he says.

"I'm blindfolded and you are carrying me up some stairs. What do you want me to do?"

"Stay still, Val. That's what I want you to do."

"Ok, fine. But where are we going? It feels like we are climbing a skyscraper or something."

"You are such a drama queen" he laughs. "And we only have four steps left. Four, three, two… and one" Pedri says, letting me finally touch the ground again. 

"Now what?"

"Now wait a second" he says. 

"What? Where are you going? I can hear your steps. Pedri, you are making me nervous. And I can hear the traffic. Pedri!"

"Take off the mask."

"Now?"

"Yes, now, Val. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"It was" I reply, my eyes taking a minute to adjust to the light. "What the…"

"Happy anniversary, Val" he smiles. 

"Pedri, this… I… Is this… Is this the rooftop?"

"Yep, the very same one, my secret place. This club is where we met, the place where it all started. And I wanted to come back and make it special, something neither of us would forget."

"Well, you've succeeded" I chuckle, wiping away a tear. He has set some kind of tent and a table for us to have lunch with just some plates and cups, a small arrangement of white flowers in the middle, and the city in the background. It isn't anything fancy, but to me it is perfect. 

"Do you like it?" he asks, walking to stand in front of me. "I've heard you made fun of all those proposals with hundreds of flowers and candles, so I wanted to make it as simple as possible but still nice."

"Wait, what?" 

"I already told you on the note that I am not going to ask you to marry me, Val. Relax" he laughs. "Today we are only celebrating our anniversary."

"Nothing else."

"Nothing else" he repeats. "So, should we get started? I think you are gonna love what I chose to have for lunch today."

"Paella?"

"Paella."

"Oh, you know the way to my heart, Pedro" I laugh.

"Found my way there two years ago in this same place, and I haven't left. I actually don't plan to do it. Ever."

"You are so cheesy" I laugh again.

"And you love it" he smirks, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I do love it, yes. I love you, Pedri."

"I love you too, Val" he says before kissing me.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Pedri, your house isn't that way."

"I know."

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere very special. Our anniversary celebrations aren't over yet."

"What?"

Once we were done having lunch he put aside the table and made us some kind of bed inside the tent with some cushions. We laid there together for hours while talking, laughing, kissing, and being overall very cheesy. We even had time to take a nap. After that, we took the car again and went to our favourite ice-cream shop, daring to go for a walk around the city while eating it. And now, we were supposedly going back home for dinner. Supposedly…

"There is one last place we need to visit before we go back to my place" he says. 

"Do we?"

"Yes, Val. I can't believe you've forgotten."

"It's been a long day, ok? And a very cheesy one. My brain is full of that, I can't think properly."

"I think you mean your heart is full of love for me and you can't think about anything else" Pedri teases me.

"Whatever."

"What day is it today?" he asks me.

"Our anniversary."

"But the date."

"14th of August."

"And what do we do on the 14th of every month?"

"We… oh! The beach!"

"Ding, ding, ding!" he laughs.

"How could I forget that?"

"You are full of love for me, remember? It's normal to forget about everything else. Though you aren't completely full of me yet if you know what I mean" he winks.

"Dear Lord, Pedro" I reply, rolling my eyes.

"That'll come later when we are back home. Now we are going to our beach to watch the sunset, and maybe something else."

"Something else?"

"How does dinner at the beach sound like?"

"I… I…"

"I'll take all that mumbling as you liking it" he laughs.

"Have I ever told you that you are the cutest person in the whole wide world?" I finally manage to say.

"This morning you said something similar. After lunch too. So yes, you have. But I don't mind."

"Good. Because I'm gonna keep reminding you of it. You are the cutest, Pedri González."

"Using my last name too? That's serious."

"Very. You are the cutest and I love you. Very much" I say, moving on my seat to kiss his cheek.

"I love you too, Val. Very much."