#and my phone managed to slip out of my pocket -just- as i slammed the car door shut

[knightofleo]

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Face Your Fears

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You get into a fight with your brothers, but your recklessness that follows creates problems for everyone.

“You were hunting before you were my age! I don’t get why—“

“It doesn’t matter if you get it or not! I said no!”

Sam rushed to the library when he heard his siblings’ voices raised in argument.

“What’s going on in here?” He asked, trying to keep a calm and neutral tone.

“She—“ Dean started, but you cut him off.

“Dean is being completely unfair!”

“Ok, ok, calm down,” Sam sighed.

“Calm down?! You two are off all the time, actually helping people, putting your lives on the line, and I’m—“

“Exactly! You don’t need to be putting yourself in danger like that!” Dean interrupted.

“It’s what you do! And I sit here and read books!”

“Don’t downplay what you do,” Sam said. “We need you here.”

“But I could do so much more out there with you!” You argued. “I’ve been training, I know I can help!”

“Yeah, or you’d screw it up and get killed, and I don’t need your blood on my hands!” Dean exploded.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Dean—“ Sam tried to speak up, but you interrupted him.

“So that’s it, really? You think I’m some kind of screw up?” You scoffed, and continued before Dean could speak. “It’s not like you’re perfect! You’ve screwed up the world before, and no one’s stopped you from going out to screw it up again!”

“Y/N—“ again Sam’s attempt to calm the situation was met with resistance.

“Well fine then, if I’m too much of a screw up for you, then I’ll get out of your way!” You shoved past your brothers and beelined for your room, slamming the door behind you.

…

Your brothers didn’t try to go after you. They were probably angry. You knew you went too far with what you said to Dean, but he called you a screw up; were you just supposed to take that and not say anything back?

It didn’t matter either way. You didn’t want them to try to talk to you, because you had something to do.

You had a hunt to go on.

You’d been researching one before you went to ask Dean about joining the next one; since he’d said no, you would take this one whether he liked it or not. And you were going alone.

…

It wasn’t hard to sneak out—back when you lived in motels, it would have been almost impossible to leave without one of your brothers waking up, but with the bunker it was easy.

You didn’t take the Impala—that would be too far, even for this rebellious streak. Instead, you took a cab to the next town over; you had struck gold, finding a hunt so close. It was pretty simple, too; three victims with hearts ripped out, definitely a werewolf. You had more silver bullets than you’d need packed up with a couple of guns in a duffel at your feet.

Dean was wrong about you, you could do this. After all, how hard could one little werewolf be?

…

Dean was right, and you were suffering the consequences of being wrong.

You struggled to pull your phone from your pocket, your fingers fumbling as your phone slipped around in your blood-soaked hands. Your breathing was labored, and every breath brought stabs of pain to your slashed-up abdomen.

You hadn’t noticed the signs of the second werewolf, so determined were you on taking the first one down. You hadn’t even seen him until he’d been right on you, ripping into your stomach. You’d had your gun in your hand, and by some miracle you’d managed to fire off a round into the werewolf on top of you, but not before he’d injured you pretty bad.

You finally got the phone in your hand, and you didn’t hesitate to press Dean’s number. You held the phone just slightly away from your face, wary of irritation the cuts on your cheek.

The phone barely had time to ring before Dean’s voice flooded your senses.

“Where are you?” His voice came out in a growl.

“D-De…” you hadn’t realized you were crying until you had to push your voice out past your tears.

“Sweetheart?” Dean’s anger was gone in a second when he heard your pained voice. “What’s going on?”

“I’m-I’m sorry, De,” you sobbed. “You were right, I’m-I’m sorry.”

“Shh shh, hey,” Dean soothed. “It’s alright sweetheart, I forgive you. Just tell me where you are and I’ll come get you.”

“I-I turned on my phone’s location,” you said. “Ple-please hurry. It hurts…”

Dean tried to ask you more, but a bang from somewhere nearby had you flinching, and the phone slipped out of your soaked hands and shattered on the concrete floor. You realized it was only your own gun, slipping off the table you’d laid it on. But it was too late; your phone was broken, and you had no way to call Dean back.

You could only hope that the tracker would still work.

…

Dean broke both the law and probably some speed records getting to your location. Sam was in the passenger seat, a first aid kit in his lap as he held on for dear life.

“I should’ve known she’d do something stupid,” Dean grunted.

“Dean, you couldn’t have known,” Sam reasoned. “And blaming yourself isn’t going to help her.”

Dean didn’t speak, and the rest of the ride was tensely silent.

“Here,” Sam said as navigator. “Turn left here, and she should be close by.”

Dean swerved the Impala to the left and screeched to a halt in an empty parking lot near a warehouse. Sam was right at his heels as he burst into the warehouse.

“De?” Your pained voice echoed throughout the building, so that it took Dean a moment to find you. When he did, he swore his heart skipped three beats. You were sitting in a pool of your own blood, propped up against the wall. Dean rushed to you, kneeling next to you and almost slipping in your blood.

“Hey, hey,” his voice was a mixture of soothing and panic as he brushed your blood-stained hair away from your face. “Alright sweetheart, tell Doctor Dean where it hurts.”

It was a pathetic joke, but you laughed anyway; Dean’s jokes always made you laugh.

But your laugh sent you to a fit of coughing. Dean winced as he examined the long gashes on your stomach.

“Ok, you’re ok,” Dean leaned back in relief when he saw that it wasn’t too deep; you’d be ok. “But I’m gonna have to carry you to the car, ok? Brace yourself.”

You gritted your teeth and clenched your fists, but you still couldn’t hold back the cry of pain when Dean lifted you into his arms.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Dean cringed. “I’m sorry. You’re gonna be ok.”

Dean laid you on your back in the backseat of the Impala, before taking the first aid kit from Sam and retrieving a needle and thread.

“Can’t we just bandage it up?” You whimpered, already squirming away from the needle. Dean’s finger froze for a second before he shook his head, his features softening. Both brothers were very aware of your fear of needles, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped.

“Sorry sweetheart, it’s gotta be stitched. Just close your eyes, it’ll feel worse if you watch.”

You closed your eyes, trusting your brother completely. However, before he could make the first stitch, your eyes popped open and you grabbed into his wrist.

“Wait,” you said. “I-I…I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Dean sighed. “I’m sorry too. I said some things that…that I didn’t mean. You aren’t a screw up, ok?”

“What do you call this?” You gestured to your own banged up body.

“Inexperience,” Dean answered. “And you never should’ve been out here alone. Going solo on your first hunt is never a good idea.”

“I’m sorry about that, too,” you mumbled.

“It’s ok, kiddo. Maybe later we…we can talk about you tagging along on one of our hunts.”

“Really?” You grinned.

“Later,” Dean said sternly. “After you’re all better. Now let me get to this.”

As Dean lifted the needle, you closed your eyes again. You felt Sam’s large hand grab onto yours, and you squeezed his hand gratefully, holding on as Dean started to stitch you up.

“I didn’t really think you would screw up the hunts,” Dean said as he worked. “I just…I don’t want you out there. It’s dangerous, and I…I’m scared something will happen to you. But I guess I can’t keep you from it if it’s what you really want.”

“It is,” you said. “I want to do what you guys do. I want to help people, and I wanna be with you guys.”

“Ok then,” Dean said, tying off the stitches and patting your side to let you know he was done. You opened your eyes, and he smiled at you.

“I guess I’ll just have to face my fears.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[ashwhowrites]

Dad!eddie x pregnant mom!reader who is suffering with severe pregnancy brain and she forgets to do something important and Eddie gets upset with her, raises his voice a little. He just needs a second to cool down so he leaves the house and reader is just distraught with her hormones and when he comes back he doesn’t realize he left her so vulnerable and upset it really wasn’t a big fight so his heart is broken seeing her tears so he needs to make it up to her

LOVE the angst in this. I hope this is what you were hoping for and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting<3

Missed call

Y/N was just days away from going into labor. She waddled everywhere, constantly in pain, and had a bad case of pregnancy brain. She put soap in the fridge and butter in the shower, and Eddie had a good laugh about it. She spaced constantly on the laundry, piling up. She tried to get out of the fog, but she couldn't.

Eddie was patient and understanding of it. He found it adorable how she'd walk into the room and pout because she couldn't remember why. He tried his best to help her remember things, and help around the house.

Eddie was gone at a meeting as Y/N cleaned the kitchen. Her attention was cut short when the house phone rang, she moved as fast as she could.

"Hello, this is the Munson's, how can I help you?" Eddie's PR manager talked on the other line. Y/N wrote down the important message that had to be delivered to Eddie immediately. Y/N hung up the phone and tucked the piece of paper in her pocket. Eddie didn't get personal calls until lunch, so she had a few hours before she could call.

~~~

Eddie slammed the front door as he marched through the house. Y/N easily could tell he was upset as he sat on the couch, angrily throwing his shoes. She grabbed him a beer and sat next to him. He grabbed the beer as she softly played with his hair. He felt his body relaxing as he leaned against the couch.

"what's wrong?" She asked, her fingers massaging his head.

"Tracy bitched me out for missing a meeting for a late night talk show that I had no idea about! I tried to explain that i was unaware of it but she wouldn't give me a chance to fucking speak. " Eddie ranted, going on and on but Y/N felt the guilt in her bones. Her hand reached into her pocket, the piece of paper with the message she never called about.

"Um, babe?" She said quietly, Eddie hummed and looked at her. His hand was on her knee as he waited for her to speak.

"She called the house and told me. I wrote it all down! I just forgot to call you on your break. I'm sorry." Y/N apologized, handing him the crumpled piece of paper.

Eddie knew he shouldn't get upset at her, it was the pregnancy brain. But he missed a huge opportunity because of it.

"DAMMIT Y/N!" He groaned, getting off the couch, and ran his hand over his face. She jumped at his loud voice, sinking into the couch as he paced in front of her.

"WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS NOW?" he screamed, throwing the piece of paper on the floor. Y/N felt tears in her eyes as he shouted. He was shouting around her, not directly in her face but it almost felt like it.

"I'm sorry!" She cried, tears falling down her face as she tried to stand up. She struggled but made it to her feet. Reaching for his hands. She smiled through her tears when he allowed her to hold his hands. Her hands softly held his.

"This would have been a huge opportunity for me, Y/N." He wasn't yelling anymore but she knew he was still mad. His voice was stern and low.

"I know! It slipped my head, and I completely forgot." She explained. Eddie nodded as he took away his hands. She quickly tried to grab them again but he stepped back.

"I just need a second, okay?" He groaned, throwing on his shoes as he grabbed his keys.

"WAIT! Baby don't leave! Just come relax on the couch, I'll go to the room." She pleaded. But he kept walking towards the door.

"I said I need a second. Your pregnancy brain is out of control and it needs to be fixed" He snapped and slammed the door. Y/N covered her mouth as she sobbed. She always fucked everything up because of her pregnancy brain. It was always the little things but now she cost Eddie a huge opportunity in his career.

~~~

Eddie sighed as he rubbed his face. The loud bar filled his ears as he tried to calm down. He called a friend to come sit with him, he needed to vent but couldn't stand to watch his wife cry because of him.

"So let me get this straight, your PR manager called your house phone, instead of your personal cell to deliver this huge important message and left it with your wife. The wife that is like two days away from birth is suffering from pregnancy brain, and you yelled at her instead of your PR manager? The manager should have called you in the first place." Steve explained, a frown on his face.

"Son of a bitch," Eddie groaned, smacking his head against the bar counter. "You're right. God, I am like the biggest asshole, and easily the worst husband." The guilt ate him alive. It wasn't her fault, Tracy should have called him directly if it was such a huge deal.

"Go home and apologize, own up to it, and make her feel like she didn't mess up your career."

~~~

Eddie slowly walked into the house, the lights off as he looked around. He figured she must have gone to bed, another feeling of guilt knowing she struggled to make it up the stairs.

He sighed and walked into their bedroom, a light on near the bed and her laptop rested on her stomach as she slept.

Eddie stripped off his clothes and crawled into the bed, grabbing her laptop to shut it off. He scrunched his eyebrows as he read the article she was on.

"How to overcome pregnancy brain"

Eddie closed the laptop with a sad sigh, lying down as he wrapped his arm around her. Softly rubbing her swollen stomach as she slept. He kissed her head and whispered apologies in her ear.

He'd wait until the morning to talk it out with her.

~~~

Eddie yawned as he walked down the stairs, Y/N was already out of bed when he woke up. He could hear her on the phone, her voice trembling as she cried.

"No Tracy, please! It was all my fault. He didn't miss it or anything. I forgot to tell him. You have to set something new up, like just ca-" Eddie grabbed the phone from her hand and hung it up. Her wet eyes stared at him as she tried to grab the phone.

"EDDIE STOP!" she sobbed, choking on her tears as she tried to grab the phone, but he threw it across the counter.

He wrapped his arms around her as she cried into his chest. He held her tightly and kissed her forehead.

"It's okay, shh," he cooed, swinging them back and forth as he held her. "I'm not mad and I'm sorry for yelling. None of it was your fault, and it was wrong of me to blame you."

"No! I messed it up. I'm just so stupid and forget everything."

"You're not stupid!" He argued, holding her head to make her look at him. "You are having our baby, and you've been carrying her for nine months. You are amazing. Tracy never should have left the message with you and I shouldn't have acted the way I did. You have every right to be spacey. Nothing is wrong with that or you. I love you so much. Please don't cry because of me." He softly wiped away her tears and kissed her forehead.

"I love you too." She said, cuddling into his chest.

"Now how about we take a nice bath and eat pizza" Eddie suggested, knowing that was her favorite routine to do when she was upset.

Eddie laughed as she yanked herself out of his arms and headed for the bathroom.

A few more days until their family had a new member.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

[pepsiboyy]

Could you do one where the boys are on a tour (in Australia maybe😏) and the reader gets like a backstage pass for her and he bff and reader is talking to Chris in the meet greet(earlier cause of the pass) and Chris seems to take interest in her so he slips his number in her pocket and she eventually finds and called the number confused and he picks it up and then after awhile of them talking back and forth Chris asks her out and they start dating blah blah blah (sorry for the in Australia maybe lol I just want them to do a tour here so I can meet em)

SAVE MY NUMBER.

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: the triplets are finally having an abroad tour and the reader purchased vip tickets with their best friend to meet them. what happens when she finds a stray set of numbers on her postcard when she gets back to the hotel? warnings: cursing, use of y/n!! a/n: thank u for the request love <3 i hope this is awesome sauce !! i tried so hard to make this enjoyable LOLL but i think it may have come out ok!! <3 lowercase intentional !!

my fingers anxiously picked at my shoes with one hand as my other hand scrolled through instagram.

"come on, y/n, aren't you excited!?" my best friend, harper, exclaimed as she gripped my shoulder and shook me rapidly.

with a soft nod and a small chuckle, i nodded as i locked my phone and let it fall into my lap. "of course i am. i'm just tired of sitting here."

we had been sitting in the sun on the side of the venue in line for the last hour and a half. it was that point in the day where the sun was beating directly onto us.

i had managed to get my best friend and i some tickets to the triplets' tour with the meet and greet pass. counting down the days was grueling, but we finally made it and the hardest part was now. waiting outside to be let into the building.

"it'll be worth it. who even cares?"

i nodded softly as i looked her up and down. she was decked out in purple, some purple stars drawn on her cheeks under her eyes and some purple cargo pants with a let's trip tee and some white air forces.

i, personally, was drowning in orange. with an orange crop top and deep gray ripped jeans, my outfit was topped off with orange nike high top dunks and an orange belt. my friend had helped me out with the orange stars, mine on the opposite side from harper's.

"y/n, the line is moving!"

i turned my head to harper, being ripped from my thoughts before quickly standing to my feet and moving up in line.

the line moved slow, but it was something.

we still had a long way to go.

-

the line for the meet and greet felt like it was forever, but as we got closer, i felt like no time had passed at all. i could see them every once in a while through the lit cloth between the line and the boys, and my eyes shifted to harper. "dude, we're almost there." i chuckled, trying to keep myself as calm as possible as harper made noises i didn't even know were humanly possible.

"y/n, i don't know what to do or say, i think i might shit myself."

i slammed a hand over harper's mouth and let out a cackle, shaking my head. "shh, say that less loud." i scoffed and before i knew it, harper was next in line.

my hands toyed with the orange belt that helped my jeans hug my hips, my eyes glued in front of me as i watched the three boys.

the three boys i watched at first every once in a while when they appeared on my for you page, but i quickly became a huge supporter of the triplets, and they were somewhat a coping mechanism for me when things were hard.

and now i'm meeting them.

"next!"

i shot harper a smile and tapped her shoulder. "you got it!" i smiled brightly and waved as she approached matt.

i felt a lump develop in my throat. this was bad.

it wasn't a crying lump, but an anxious lump. unfortunately, when i get nervous, i can't help but ramble and yap.

"next!"

no way time flew by that fast. as i approached matt, i swallowed and smiled brightly as i felt like each step that i took was in slow motion.

matt's arms opened and i quickly stepped towards him and hugged him tightly. "hi, matt," i breathed, taking a deep breath as the reality of the situation began to settle.

"what's your name?" he asked softly, picking up his photo and signing it quickly.

"oh, it's y/n," i breathed, the smile on my face so wild you could have probably found me in a horror movie.

"nice to meet you, y/n. i hope we haven't kept you waiting too long?" he questioned, and i quickly shook my head.

"i'm just happy you guys are here," i breathed and smiled brightly at him before my expression fell. "oh my god a picture-" i scrambled to reach and get my phone from my back pocket, opening my camera and lifting it up.

two bright smiles later, matt pulled me into one more hug and smiled brightly, while i wished him luck on the rest of the tour.

i turned to see nick and smiled brightly, pulling him into a deep hug. i always had a theory that nick gave the best hugs of the three. so far, my theory was correct.

"hi, friend!" nick cheered, signing his card and smiling at me. "your star makeup is so cute, your friend had the same thing, no?"

i smiled brightly and nodded, biting my lip. "yeah, she did them for me actually! she's the best." i smiled and pulled out my phone.

"i'm so glad you guys could come." he stated as he wrapped an arm around me and held up a thumbs up in the camera.

i smiled brightly as i pulled away and gave him one last hug. "you guys are amazing. i just thought you should know, i'm proud of you guys. good luck tonight!" i told nick as i pulled from the hug. nick shot me a soft and quick thank you as i was rushed off to the final triplet.

christopher sturniolo.

i felt my entire being crumble the moment i took a few steps forward.

of course, i loved all three of the triplets with everything i had.

but chris.. i related to him in many ways and always found my eyes gravitating to him while watching their videos. he's a silly guy, and it doesn't help that i find him insanely attractive between the three.

"you in there?"

my eyes shot to chris as i let out a breath i didn't know i was holding.

i literally just spaced out in front of chris, who waved his hand in front of me to snap me out of my trance.

not to mention i'm decked out in his color.

"hi!" i squeaked, and he pulled me into a hug.

i bit my lip as i hugged him tightly, taking a deep breath.

the hug lasted for a little longer than needed, but i wasn't complaining.

not sure if it's because it's chris or not, but i think nick has some competition for best hug.

"i like your outfit," chris stated softly as he pulled away from the hug. i smiled brightly at him, and i couldn't tell if i was gaslighting myself or if he licked his lips while looking at my orange self.

"thanks, i don't really wear much orange," i stated and i felt my face heat up.

"it's definitely your color more than it is mine. consider wearing it more often?" he asked, writing on the card and pausing before deciding to hand it to me. "wanna take a selfie?"

i nodded quickly and shakily took out my phone and began to raise it, but chris carefully took it from my hands and raised it himself, wrapping his other arm around my shoulders softly.

he took about four photos and handed me the phone back.

after signing the card, taking a little longer than usual, he looked me up and down one more time.

we stood there for a few moments, simply looking at each other and i noticed my friend waving at me from behind chris, about ten feet away.

"you're gonna do great tonight," i quickly said to him, and he simply smiled at me and nodded, running his fingers through his hair to adjust his bangs.

holy fuck, this guy isn't real.

"i'll do great because you came. thanks for coming." he stated softly, and brought me into a tight hug.

i bit my lip hard as i hugged him back, taking in a deep breath.

-

the night went incredibly well. the show was enjoyable with the games they all played, and i told harper about the interaction i had with chris.

harper was in the shower. i had just gotten out, my pajama pants and small black tshirt hugging my body perfectly as i laid against my bed in the hotel.

i turned to the postcards, smiling brightly as i took them into my hands and admired them. i turned them in the light to look at the layered marker, holding them towards the lamp. as i got to chris's, i noticed some writing on the back through the light and my heart jumped out of my chest.

i threw myself up off the mattress and flipped the postcard over, feeling my heartrate pick up at the phone number written against the back.

"dude, the shampoo in there is awesome. you weren't kidding." harper stated as she dried her hair in a towel as she sat in front of me, also in her pajamas. "you okay?"

i looked at her and slowly held up the card, pointing at the number.

"holy fuck, is that..?" harper trailed off, and i bit my lip.

"oh my god, i need to call it." i stated as i searched for my phone under the comforter, quickly retrieving it and dialing the number.

i put my phone on speaker as i looked at harper, my leg bouncing anxiously.

"hello?"

my heart sank.

"h- hello?"

i mentally cursed at myself for stuttering.

"who is this?"

"uhh, it's y/n, i found this number on the back of my postcard-" i was quickly cut off.

"y/n!" he cheered. "it's chris."

"are you fucking for real?" i whispered, biting my lip.

"yes ma'am." he chuckled, and i shook my head. there's no way this is fucking happening right now.

"i know it's late and you guys probably have jet lag, so i'm sorry, but i just found it-"

"it's fine, really, i was running fortnite with matt." he stated quickly, cutting me off.

i snorted. it made sense.

"well, get a victory royale ok?"

"for you, i will. save my number, i'll text you." chris stated, and i looked at harper who was in utter shock.

"right, yeah i will." i stated quickly, and hung up afterwards.

silence overcame harper and i before i bit my lip and we both screamed at the top of our lungs at the same time.

there was no way this was real.

-

my eyes were beginning to shut as the video of the triplets from a few weeks ago seemed to be watching me.

i turned to harper, who had fallen asleep a little while ago and blinked a few times when my phone vibrated and chris's name appeared on my screen.

a bright smile took over my face as i began texting him, and my night was made even more. somehow.

[bookshelf-dust]

the bad shit

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 1,192

warnings: swearing, possible allusions to depression, brief mention of death, a tiny finger injury, comfort

a/n: my brain does not seem to be in a writing mood right now, but i did manage to crank this out. i do enjoy making billy cry, so there’s that. i hope it’s alright! please let me know what you think. i’d really appreciate it. <33

————

Billy’s been fidgety since he woke. 

You hear the soft thud of his boots, muffled against the carpet of your bedroom floor. He makes his way towards you and kisses your forehead, knowing you’re probably too sleepy for a real kiss this early.

He doesn’t tell you how badly he needs one—that his hands are shaking with it. Though he doesn’t need to tell you. 

You’d heard his alarm clock go off, felt him stay in bed longer than usual, glimpsed him rubbing his face on the way to the bathroom. He hadn’t wanted to get up. Not one bit. 

And even though you can feel sleep calling you, feel the way it presses at your eyes, the way the warmth of the bed pulls you in—you sit up. 

Billy’s closer to the door now, but he hears you shuffle, and he’s quick to move back to you. 

“You need to sleep, baby.”

But your hands are already on his cheeks, and then you’re kissing him, shutting him up and telling him you’re right here. And you’ll be right here when he gets home from work. You’ll be a phone call away if he needs you during his shift. 

“I’ll walk you out,” you say, and your tone informs him that there’s no room for arguments.

You hook your fingers in his belt loops as you push off the bed, hoping that this will keep your half-asleep form from slamming into the wall. 

You kiss Billy again on the stoop, even if he is berating you for being barefoot in the cold. You watch him walk to the car, catch the way his fingers fumble with the keys, the way he doesn’t even have it in him to slam the door shut. 

He waves at you from behind the steering wheel.

“I love you,” you mouth, blowing a kiss. He’s quick to catch it in his hand, gesturing so that he’s tucking it away in his pocket for later. He responds just as he always does, but you can tell he’s still sleepy. 

That he’s tired. 

————

You aren’t home when Billy gets back to the house. There’s a note on the counter in your sweet scrawl, telling him that you ran out to pick up dinner. Eating at all had completely slipped his mind. 

Billy’s just having a day. He’d wanted to stay home but couldn’t, and not only has he been fidgety, unable to focus for want of home, of you, but his thoughts are getting the better of him. They’re suffocating. Telling him he’s not good enough for you, that he’s a waste of time—of your time. That he should’ve died like he was supposed to in that fucking mall. 

And he knows it isn’t true. He knows that you loved him before any of that, when he was just being an asshole, when he was just pissed that he’d had to move. And you love him now, even when he has bad days like this. 

But his head. His mind. It tells him otherwise. It fights and it claws and it screams at him. And today he is losing that fight, letting his mind yell and tear at him. 

Billy tries to distract himself and wash the dishes, but he only gets so far before he drops something and almost breaks it, before he cuts his finger on a knife he put in the damn sink. After that he tries to find a band-aid but spills all of them on the floor, and the first one he opens gets stuck on the wrapper and he can’t use it. 

Once he does secure the pink bandage around his pinky, he goes to clean up his mess and hits his head on the counter. He tries to change clothes and trips, gets his belt loop stuck on a drawer handle. 

“God fucking dammit.”

After that one he gives up and throws himself on the kitchen floor, choosing a beer with a pull tab rather than a cap for fear he might actually hurt himself and bleed out.

He hears the sound of you locking your car, the door squeaking when you open it, and he knows he should’ve gotten up to help you, but he just couldn’t. He starts to cry. 

“Billy? Where’s my baby?” 

The sound of your voice causes him to hiccup, and you’re on the floor in front of him in a matter of seconds. 

He’s covering his face with his hands, and you know then that the day must’ve gotten the better of him. 

“Hey, let me see you. It’s okay, honey, I’m right here.”

Billy looks up at you, lashes clumped together with tears, nose red and lips all swollen. He looks so frustrated with himself, so beat, that you ache for him. 

He wishes he was stronger. That he wasn’t breaking down in the middle of the kitchen, but you told him once that it’s okay to have bad days. That you're always going to be there on the worst ones. 

He puts the beer down the moment you hold your arms out, crawling into your lap and burying his face in your chest. You don’t care that he’s heavy or that you’re not entirely sure you’re getting any air in your lungs. You care that he’s letting go and that he’s showing you this vulnerable part of himself. 

Billy cries, he weeps, against you for what seems like forever. But you don’t mind. You only want him to feel better. You rub his back, play with his hair, anything to soothe him just that little bit. 

When he’s finished, when he’s caught his breath, he pulls away. His cheeks are pink and you’re sure he’s berating himself for having just sobbed like that. He’s sitting on his knees, fingers scratching at the freckled skin of his arms. He looks young like this. Lost.

“Was it just a bad day? Or is it the bad shit?” 

That is Billy code for I’m spiraling and I need help. For I’m having a hard time and I can’t do it alone. I don’t know how to say it. 

You established that little code pretty early on in your relationship, knowing it would be helpful in getting Billy to talk about his feelings with you. 

“The bad shit,” he tells you. 

“It’s not true,” you say. “Whatever your head is telling you today, it’s not true. Not today, not ever. You gotta say it for me, okay?”

He gives you the barest shake of his head before he pauses and tries to steel himself so that he can do it. He doesn’t want to let you down. 

“It’s not true.”

You grin at him. “Right. And you’re a badass. And we’re gonna eat dinner, and then we’re gonna talk it out, and then we will lay down. And maybe I’ll scratch your back for you.”

Billy nods. He hates that his breath catches at that, that the offer brings him pure, unadulterated joy. 

“Okay.”

He can do that. He knows he can offer that much. 

Because he is a badass. And he can try for you. For himself. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @clovermunson

[agirlwithdemonblood]

Stitches of Trust

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Summary: After an incident in the woods, Dean is the only one who can save me.

Warnings: Attacked reader, knife, blood and lots of it, stitches, swearing, comfort ❤️

Check out my Masterlist here!

The path beside the bunker was my favorite place to be, the way the sun dipped below the horizon casting long shadows through the trees always calmed me down. It's been a tough week, and this walk was my brief escape from everything I had to deal with.

My feet stopped abruptly when I heard a loud rustle in the bushes. Before I could react, a man stepped out in front of me, eyes cold and menacing. I tried to grab my gun, but it was too late. He rushed forward and pulled me to his chest, knife pressing roughly against my throat.

"Give me everything you got." he hissed.

Panic surged through my veins. My mind raced, but my body was frozen still. When I hesitated, the knife moved down and slashed my side. Pain flared, hot and intense. I gasped and tried to fend him off, to get a head start and run home but his grip on my arm was too strong.

He ripped my bag from my back and shoved me on the ground, another slash landing across my arm. The world blurred as he disappered into the shadows, leaving me there to bleed out.

My hand clutched my side, blood seeping through my fingers, my phone slipping from my pocket. With trembling hands, I tried to call Dean but I couldn't muster up the strength and the phone fell beside me. I reached forward, managing to type out a quick message before the world started to go dark, my eyes shutting heavily. "Help..."

Back at the bunker, Dean heard the faint ping of his phone. He glanced at the screen, his blood turning cold instantly at my message, "Help..."

He stood from his spot as his chest tightened, different scenerios playing through his mind, but he knew he needed to focus, he needed to find me. He grabbed his keys and bolted out the door, muttering to himself, "I'm coming sweetheart, hang on."

He drove frantically, scanning the pathway as he called my name but heard no response. Finally after what felt like forever, his headlights caught a figure lying on the path, bright blood all around it causing his heart to nearly stop.

Slamming on the breaks, he quickly kicked the door open and rushed towards me, dropping on his knees beside my lifeless body. "Y/N! He shouted, panic filling his chest at the sight of my blood covered body. "I'm here, it's okay, i've got you."

My eyes fluttered at the sound of his voice, slight relief washing over me but the pain was still overwhelming. "D-Dean... I.."

"Shh, don't talk sweetheart." he spoke urgently, "Your safe now, I gotcha."

His eyes widened at the sight of the wound on my side, blood seeping out into the dirt below me. Without hesitiation, he tore his jacket off and pressed it to my side to stop the bleeding, earning a hiss of pain to fall from my lips. "I'm sorry, just keep breathing, okay? Stay with me."

My breath came in quick, shallow gasps as the attack replayed in my mind, the fear and pain twisting my thoughts like torture. "I-I couldn't stop him, I wasn't quick enough" I whispered, my voice trembling.

Dean's eyes softened with a mix of concern "Hey, look at me" He spoke firm, but with a hint of comfort behind it. "You did everything you could. None of this is your fault."

He took my hand tightly, his touch warm and steady, "We're going to get you through this, just keep your eyes on me alright? Focus on my voice."

Very gently, he lifted me into his arms and carried me to the Impala, every step was incruciating, but I trusted him with my life. He drove faster than I've ever seen him drive, face twisted with concern, hand pressing on my wound as much as he could.

When we arrived, he rushed towards the couch and laid me down, apologizing underneath his breath when I groaned in pain. The first aid kit was placed beside me, Dean's shaky hands pulling out the gauze and antiseptic.

I watched with half closed lids as he cleaned and stitched my wounds with practiced skill, he's done it many times for me before but this time his touch was so gentle, his focus unwavering despite the worry etched on his face.

"It's going to be okay." He murmered, more to himself than to me. "You're okay now, your safe."

I couldn't stop the tears that rushed down, a mix of pain and gratitude overwhelming me. He glanced up, eyes wide with panic as he quickly stopped what he was doing. "Shit, I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

I shook my head rapidly and grabbed his hand, pulling it to chest for comfort. "Thank you. For saving me, for being here."

He smiled softly, hand tightening on mine, "Don't thank me. I'll always be here for you, you know that right?"

I nodded and relaxed my head on the pillow, wiping the tears that stained my cheeks. As he finished stitching my wound, he cleaned up and bandaged me carefully, pressing a gentle kiss against my head as he stood up to pull a chair beside the couch where I lay.

He stayed by my side, hand gripping mine tightly while I stared at the ceiling, eyes filling with tears.

"I thought I was going to die out there." I looked towards him, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dean's expression softened, his hand moving to my forhead to brush the hair from my face. "I won't ever let that happen." He stated, voice thick with emotion. "I'll always come for you, Y/N, always."

I nodded, tears flowing down my cheeks as I bit my lip. "I was so scared."

He leaned forward, thumb brushing away the tears from my cheeks, "I know. But you're safe now. You're here with me."

"Dean.. can you lay with me?" I whispered.

He smiled warmly and nodded, climbing beside me on the couch before opening his arms and hugging me tightly to his chest. His heart was steady and relaxing, a reminder that I was alive and safe.

As I drifted off to sleep, Dean remained by my side, watching over me with fierce determination. In the quiet of the bunker among the shadows and stitches, our friendship turned to love, forced by trust, care and the unspoken promise that we would always find safety and comfort in each other's arms.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

Check out my Masterlist here!

[cherrygukkie]

Late Night Encounters| jjk

Summary: A student-athlete like you, who flies under the radar, never expected to become enemies with someone like Jeon Jungkook, an annoying talkative senior who goes out of his way to make your life a living hell. But what happens when your rivalry takes some twists and turns, and your hate turns into something else? Will getting too close to Jungkook reveal a side of him that you’ve never seen before?

Word Count: 5,2k

AN: Hey folks! This is something I came up with in the middle of the night, so I hope that you all enjoy this as much as I am currently planning all of this out! :) But yeah, I don't have anything else to say, but to enjoy this first snippet of Jk and OC's relationship. Love yah mwahh!!

Props to @dollfaceksj for beta-reading thank you <3

READ: (Pls comment and give feedback it's all welcomed. It'll help me stay motivated.)

Lmk if there are any errors please and thank you.

••••••••

Thursday, 7:03 a.m.

It’s early in the morning, and you know what that means…. School time!!!

Yay… school.

You’re currently at school, exhausted. That wasn’t out of the ordinary though. No matter how much sleep your body gets you still end up tired. At this point, you've accepted the fact that you’re a sleepy girl.

Putting on your beats, you turn the music volume to the max. Hopefully, music can give you a little energy and help you get through the day because you need it.

Surprisingly Yoongi or Taehyung weren't at school around this time. Usually, the three of you arrived at the same time, if something came up you’d receive a message from either one of them. They didn’t tell you yesterday or text you, so you check their location.

When you do it shows that they are on the road, moving in the same area. 

They were driving somewhere…

The direction they are going is further away from the school. You being curious, you took it upon yourself to see what’s up with them.

Letting out a yawn, you call Yoongi, and not even a second later, he declines.

What the fuck?

You decide to shoot Taehyung a message since they’re together and he responds…

You: um why aren’t you or Yoongi at school?

You: I see that you guys are driving and I feel left out.

Taehyung : Sorry Y/N. I was supposed to tell you, but It slipped my mind.

Yeah, just like how my foot is gonna slip up both their asses.

Taehyung: We got caught up in some last-minute shit.

•okay, but my question is still unanswered.

You: where are you guys going though???

Read.

Taehyung left you on read along with him being secretive about his location… that’s unusual and weird.

Extremely weird…

“Such shitheads for ditching me,” you mutter, shoving your phone in your pocket. Great… Now today is going to be the definition of boring without dumber and dumbest.

You open your locker, replacing your books with your skateboard. The bell is going to ring shortly, so you start walking to class. You slam your locker shut, striding down the halls with the volume of your headphones sounding out everything and everyone, just how you liked it.

Your face was frowned up until ETA by NewJeans came on. A smile creeps onto the corner of your mouth as angelic voices enter your ears and a flicker of amusement manages to lighten your mood.

“what’s your ETA!” “what’s your ETA!”

Just when your grumpy spirit is starting to lift, someone swoops in from the right, snatching your headphones off your ears. The music is gone and the little smile you grew shattered into a million pieces.

You freeze, taken back by his audacity. “You did not… just take my headphones.” 

You turn around to see the one and only, Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook who surprisingly wasn’t wearing his usual Calvin Klein attire. Instead, he had on a pair of distressed jeans with a soft blue zip-up jacket.

The way he has his jacket off his shoulder is so baby girl of him

Jungkook smirks, holding the headphones out of reach. “New Jeans? Really?” He could hear even while they were hanging above your head. That’s how loud the music was.

“Give it back!” you demand, through a big jump to retrieve your headphones. Each time you jumped, his hand went higher and higher. Jungkook enjoyed watching you struggle, especially if it’s because of him.

“You don’t seem like the type to listen to New Jeans,” he says, ignoring the fact that he’s holding your property. “They’re so uplifting and joyful… and you-” Jungkook pauses, eyeing you down. You could sense the insult coming.

You talk over him, not letting him finish. “Why are you doing this?”

It’s too early to play his stupid games. He couldn’t wait until Chemistry class? 

“Just doing my daily dose of annoying you.” He clicks his tongue, dangling the headphones with his index finger. 

“Well, congratulations, Jungkook. You’ve succeeded once again. Now give me back my headphones and leave me alone,” you demand again, reaching up only for him to hold them higher.

At this damn point, your arms are moving in the air desperately like a lunatic. This is taking place in the middle of the halls… in front of people. 

How fucking embarrassing is that?

ugh, I hope that people don’t think I’m a pushover now…

You raise your voice, walking up to Jungkook. “Give me my shit back!” 

The anger in your voice draws attention in the halls. Right after you speak, multiple eyes burn into your soul. You look around and people are staring at the both of you with concerned faces. Part of you wanted to tell them to mind their shit and keep it pushing, but you take a breath, taking a chill pill.

 “Jungkook,” you say through gritted teeth, bringing your hands together. “Can I have my beats back? They’re too expensive to be played around with.” You swallow all the bass in your tone.

“What’s the magic word?” Jungkook teases, exposing the dimple on his right cheek. Beasty, huh? you've never understood why he gave you such a nickname in the first place. Assuming it was an insult, you always ignored it.

Today wasn’t the day for his stupid games, he for sure wasn’t getting a please out of you.

You blink constantly, accepting your defeat. “You know what… I’m not doing this shit today. You can keep them, you jerk.” Walking away from Jungkook, you try to speed walk to class in need to get away from him. You’re already dealing with limbs that could barely function and heavy eyelids, you aren't in the mood to play.

Searching for peace didn't last how you wanted. Jungkook catches up with you, refusing to leave you alone. 

"Careful there or you'll drop your books."

You look over at Jungkook who was keeping up with your speed. “I hate you.”

A little laugh sneaks past his lips before speaking, “No, you don’t.”

He had the presence of a fly, no matter how much you shoo him away he always finds his way back.

Why do you despise him with a passion?

Why is Jeon Jungkook your nemesis?

The reason behind it is a story. It started when you ran into him on a chaotic evening at the worst moment possible, just when you thought the hole you were in couldn't get any deeper...it did.

*Flashback!*

4 months ago...

Friday evening, 7:37 p.m.

Stuck in the middle of traffic, you’re repeatedly hitting crazy turns, left, right, left, left, right, right, nonstop. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for missing the bus and being an irresponsible dumbass.

Yeah, it's true...you were late to a game. It's not all your fault, though. To be fair it was a last-minute one that the coach signed everyone up for. Earlier today, you had to stay after school to figure out some arrangements with your teachers for your grades. It was either that or nothing because bad grades equal no volleyball.

All work was uncompleted, besides Mrs. Parker's class. That was your favorite class and you had an A+, so you didn't have to visit her. You had to visit everyone else and it didn’t go as planned. Besides giving you an extension on the work, you were assigned a tutor for the next 2 months.

Your schedule was dedicated to volleyball, therefore you had no free days unless it was the weekend, and as much as you didn't want to sacrifice it, you had to.

Girl, your grades were crying.

You need to maintain them to keep volleyball in your life. Today was Saturday and you decided to start. It wasn't a problem because you had no plans at all… well that’s what you thought. 

You put your phone on do not disturb, just to concentrate, not to ignore anybody.

You just needed your mind to be fixated on school for once, not a ball, not a net, or a gym.

🏐🥊

During those long hours of catching up and studying you weren't aware of the messages in your group chat. You packed up all your things and you went directly to your messages to see 100+ texts from the group chat.

You open it thinking it's about the next practice or probably not expecting a message like this.

Coach [: "I'm sorry to spring this on you girls on such short notice, but I received an email from a coach from another district about playing against his team because apparently, the other team forfeited before the game.

Coach [: I agreed to it thinking maybe you girls could use the extra practice, you know? explore other teams and their ways of playing."

Coach [: "The school is far, so I recommend you gear up and be at the gym by school at 6:20 because the drive is longer than 30 minutes and we all need to ride the bus together, as a team."

Coach [: "There's no reason why any of you should be late because I'm texting you a couple of hours before, so please be on time okay you all know how I am about tardiness."

The more we are late the more we condition....

Coach [: "Okay, but that's all. I'll see you all in a bit, be ready!"

You take your phone off Do not disturb, then you exit the building, phone, and bag in hand checking your missed calls,

Reading that you had numerous missed calls from the coach, you call her and she answers immediately. The phone barely got through the first ring. You opened your mouth to speak, but her lecture overpowered you. "Y/N where the hell are you? the game is about to start!"

You're so stuck you couldn't give a proper answer so all you say is, "Huh?" the confusion in your response made her angrier.

"You are late Y/N! You were supposed to be on the bus an hour ago!"

Coach sent that message at 3:36 and when you checked the time it was 7:15 p.m. It was like glass shattering when your heart sank realizing you lost track of time. Your phone shook in your trembling hands, too stunned to speak.

It's been that long?!?

She tells you that the game has already started and that you need to be on your way now, especially with you being one of the main players you were needed no matter what, or the rotation would be switched.

It was still the beginning of the season, so people were only familiar with their positions. Having rotations changed and adjusted to something last minute during a game is a total mess. A rule in volleyball is if you were out of rotation they deduct points, and that was unacceptable.

"C-coach, I'm sorry-" you tried to sound sincere with a pounding heart and unsteady voice. "I'll get there as fast as possible." She ends the conversation by hanging up the phone.

Well goddamn.

Then and there you knew you were "Fucked." you muffled, in your hand. "I am so fucked...."

You start running as fast as you can and thankfully the dorms aren't too far from the school, so you arrive shortly. You swung the door open and rushed to your room not greeting your roommate, but that didn't matter.

She wasn't the nicest...

When you get in your room you start tossing things everywhere trying to find your jersey. That's what you get for misplacing important shit, that's what your mom would tell you after you'd lost something and it played in your mind on a loop.

At some point, you found everything and shoved it in your bag racing out the door to the parking lot. And there you are speeding recklessly in your car, slamming your fist on the horn honking at cars, cutting them off doing all you can to escape from this major traffic jam.

You weave through traffic pressing on the gas pedal, “Come the fuck on…” you yell, feeling your frustration build up. “Can these cars go any slower?!? I’m almost there!”

Why does everything go wrong on inconvenient days…?

Finally, you arrive at the stadium, and you pull into the parking lot and your eyes dart immediately to a good spot in between two cars surprisingly in front of the entrance. There were a shit ton of people here...

You turn the wheel parking your car thinking none of it, then suddenly there is this noise you heard. In the mise of hearing that sound, your whole car jolted back from the impact, even though it was the slightest tap.

Leaning forward a bit, you see the space you have in front of you and your jaw drops in disbelief. "Please no...." This could not be happening right now.... you're already in trouble for being an hour late and now you have to deal with this.

To fix your parking, you back out and properly pull in between the two cars. After, you take a moment to close your eyes and cross your fingers hoping that the damage wasn't too severe. Your pockets had flies coming out of them…. you couldn't afford to fix a damn car.

Let's pray that there was nothing there and you could move on with life, peacefully. You got out of the car to check yours first. It was in perfect condition and not a single mark was on it, maybe that was a sign of something good.

You rushed to the back of the black car to confirm that the crunching noise you heard was in fact the bumper that was dented up, terribly. The back of the vehicle even had scratches and the black paint was scraped off.

It was bad...

"Oh my god..." you mouthed nervously. The car did look fancy and highly expensive. It didn't take long for you to realize that the car you hit was a Mercedes-Benz, but not only that it was the newest version. "You've got to be fucking kidding me...." you screamed, burying your face in your palms.

How the hell were you going to pay for the damages on this car, a damn Mercedes?!? To be fair, you weren't poor, you just didn't have money like that, or you didn't have any on you. And bothering your parents with this rough situation was the last you wanted to do. They were already helping you pay for volleyball camp, so there was no need to shake them for more money.

Your hands found their way to your head gripping your hair, stressfully. "Ugh, I should've been on the damn bus!" you yell again, feeling stupid. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for the rookie mistake.

Too busy pacing back and forth and complaining you didn't notice that there wasn't a single soul in the car. By now someone would've come out to give you shit for hitting their vehicle.

You instantly got an idea.

And that idea was to walk away and pretend nothing happened.

Why not? nobody was outside, nobody saw you and nobody was inside the car meaning there's no proof of you hitting their car attempting to park.

That intense feeling wore off and your body relaxed a little. You look both ways before crossing the street.

Thank god, you didn't have to deal with a rich bitch or asshole who'd exaggerate the problem like the car was their child and make you pay more than you have to. You sigh, walking away, ready to enter the school and deal with the coach because that was next on the checklist.

You stuff your hands in your pockets, making your way towards the entrance, until you hear something. That something was the sound of a car door getting slammed violently.

"What the hell? are you fucking kidding me?!?" the mysterious man shouted. He sounded upset—a more fitting word, enraged. "Hey, you! black sweatshirt."

Yep, that was you. A girl in a black sweatshirt who was trying to ditch the situation.

"Hm?" you slowly turned around as if you were innocent.

Your guilty eyes met his deep brown cold ones. He looked very pissed right now. "Hm?" the mysterious boy mocked your act. "You fucked up my shit!" he pointed to the poor bumper.

You nibble on your lip, caught up and no he wasn't wrong that's exactly what you were going to do.

"What?” You fix your thick frames. "Dude, what are you talking about? I didn't fuck up anything. I was only walking out here getting fresh air, that's all..."

"Oh really?" He took a step closer moving under the moon. It was easier to make out the details. Soft dark curly long hair, muscular figure, piercings, tattoos.... a dangerous combination a guy could have.

Damn.

He wore a Calvin Klein denim jacket with a matching shirt and bold thick platformed boots. He looked like your typical bad boy or fuck boy, you choose. You’d never seen him before, ever.

You reacted, backing away from his unnecessary step. "Yes?"

"You are lying and you fucking suck at it.”

You tried flipping the script. “That’s what you think.”

“It’s what I know and now you’re starting to piss me off.”

"Okay, shit!" Your arms slap your sides, defeated. "I hit your car, okay? But it was a mistake. I was rushing to get to my game and I was going to leave because I needed to avoid this. After all, I'm already late and my coach is upset with me." Listening to you, his eyes were rolled to the back of his head, tired of hearing your sob story. "It was seriously an accident, I misjudged the distance between the cars," you continued. "I'm fucking sorry, okay?"

He was able to see that you were going through a tough time, but did he care? Hell no. He wasn't having any of that. For fucks sake, you hit his car and that's all he cared about, not some girl who's using being late as an excuse to recklessly drive.

“Do you know how much it’s going to cost me to get fixed?”

"No, I don't, but I do know that it's going to be pricey and trust me if I had the money I would pay for the expenses, but I don't have much money right now..."

"Oh, great. Miss careless driver not only hits my car, but she can't afford to fix it. Just what I fucking needed today."

You continued to apologize and reason with him, but he cut you off. "You expect me to accept your apology? That doesn't change the fact you hit my car. I could care less about a fucking apology right now.”

Now... it was bothering you a little. Despite the situation, this guy was being a dickhead.

Did you hit his car? Yes, you did and he has every right to be angry, but there should be some way that this can be resolved respectfully without being an asshole. And that's what he was doing, he's raising his voice, expecting you to stand there like a fool.

He had no idea who he was talking to. You frowned, no longer feeling ashamed or apologetic for hitting his car.

"No, it isn't but I'm sure that if you can afford a Mercedes then I'm sure you have the money to fix the damn bumper yourself," you argued.

"You're right," he chuckled, rubbing his forehead. "I can afford to get it fixed. I don't know why I thought that someone...." His voice trailed off as he faced your car. ".... someone who drives a 2010 Ford Taurus could even pay for a single scratch on my car."

broke bitch alert!!!

He turned around, lifting his brows, waiting for a response from you. The disrespect was too real and you blurted out an aggressive, “Fuck you.”

He was seriously calling you broke…

“And fuck you for hitting my car.” The guy got closer, narrowing his eyes at you as if you were familiar somehow. “You...” His voice trailed off from looking at your sweatshirt.

He got distracted from the words on it. It had your team and university labeled on it.

“You don’t even go to this school, do you?” he asks.

The mysterious boy’s question threw you off. Your eyes darted everywhere before talking. "No...?" you replied lost. "Why the hell does it even matter?"

“I knew you seemed familiar.” He nodded, getting struck by a moment of realization. "You're that one volleyball player who plays at ____ university?" He asked, reading your shirt. "And you're Y/N, right?"

“Yeah, why?”

"You know what-" he smacked his lips. "I'll let this slide this time one time.” You wanted to say thanks, too bad part of you was still heated from the argument, but how did he know your name?

You watched him walk to his car, and then he opened the door. “Just stay the hell out of my way, got it?"

He didn’t have to tell you twice.

"More than happy too,” you shout.

Once he got into his car, you turned around and ran inside the school. heading straight to the gym. You saw your team on the court, playing hard in an intense rally as you walked in. There was a shit ton of people cheering, yelling and screaming.

The noise was a mixture of good and bad…

You glanced at the score and thankfully, it was a tie. Coach gave you a deadpan as you walked towards her with guilt. Like you were expecting, she scolded you or whatever, and then she called a time-out.

All the girls left the court to get water and catch their breaths. Coach like usual, went over everyone's positions and dos and don'ts. While she did so, you slid out of your hoodie and sweatpants, revealing your jersey and shorts under.

You were prepared.

You scanned the crowds on your school's side and damn near everyone showed up to support the team. Some classmates waved at you and of course, you returned the kind gesture, glad to see them here to support the team.

Then randomly out of nowhere, you saw the same guy enter the gymnasium. He walks up a few flights of bleachers to sit with Jimin, Seokjin, and some other guy you don't know.

You assumed they were his friends.

When he's done greeting them... his attention landed on you, only you. It was weird after that interaction you had with him.

Looking away from him, you tried to regain your focus on the girls and coach.

"You all are doing great; except I need you all to make it harder for them. Let's stop fooling around and get in the lead and let it stay that way. Now that Y/N is here there's no more confusion now, the lineup is back to normal. Everyone with me?" Coach looked at everyone and they responded with nodding heads or a yes ma'am.

"Go out there and make them work, make them sweat."

The girls, including you, did your signature hand-stack a second after the buzzer went off. Girls that were benched sat down and girls that were on the court returned to the floor.

You simply do you and you get on the court to do what you're best at.

Play volleyball.

Things went back to normal, everyone played their hearts out, and in the end. You won the game.

But throughout the process, you couldn't help but notice his stares during the whole game. Anytime you'd look in his direction his focus was already on you.

The more you looked at him the more you remembered his identity. Now him knowing your name made sense because he attends your school along with him being in your 5th period.

Chemistry.

His name is Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook. He was a new exchange student from Seoul, but you couldn’t remember his major, although you did remember that he’s in a relationship with a girl named Alex who was well known at your school. Which is also how Jungkook was known in the first place.

It’s surprising because you hardly recognized him due to your head being on such a swivel.

It’s crazy that you've never even crossed paths before.

Ever since your first impression of Jungkook, the universe did its thing where he appeared everywhere now and you couldn’t escape him…

For some odd reason, he stood out even more because every day he went out of his way to bother you and piss you off, constantly. You haven't liked him since then and now you don't like him even more and couldn’t avoid him.

He didn't keep his word when you ran into him and he told you this exactly: "Stay the hell out of my way."

You’ve been stuck with this idiot ever since then.

*Present*

“Should I have taken your glasses instead?” he jokes, knowing damn well you are practically blind. You could see, but not too well.

You bark, “Why are you bothering me?”

“You should’ve never hit my car,” he says, words rolling off his tongue with a shrug.

“Oh, fuck off,” you aggressively tell him, wishing he’d disappear like dust into the air. 

How long was he going to hold you accountable for that? It’s been months.

“I’ll fuck off when you tell me what’s up with you. You seem more feisty than usual���.” You immediately stop walking to glare at Jungkook who places his finger on his chin.  “Did one of your little boyfriends piss you off?”

He’s referring to Taehyung and Yoongi…

 “Wow… your detective skills are impressive,” you sarcastically praise him, dramatically rolling your eyes. “Is that all you got?”

Jungkook strokes his chin. “Am I right?”

“Those aren’t my boyfriends and you are wrong, but why do you even care about what’s going on with me?”

“I don't, I'm just curious,” He replies, sounding interested in the reason for your attitude. “And you look like shit and it’s not because of me… so I want to know.”

“Yeah, and I feel like it too,” You admit, feeling the sleepiness weigh you down. “Like always…” an exhausted sigh leaves your lips.

“Why?” he asks, headphones still in his possession.

Jungkook's questions make you rub your temples. “I’m exhausted and later today I’m gonna be busy. I have to attend the sports event. You know where all athletes are required to go?”

“I’m familiar.” Jungkook places the headphones around his neck. “They announced the dumb thing yesterday.”

“It’s not dumb, Jungkook,” you declare, folding your arms, giving him a deadpan. “It's an important and great opportunity for all college athletes. It only happens once a year.”

The sports event in the evening that you are attending is an event for all athletes. It allows students to meet other teams including school teams, professional teams and club teams.

It’s a chance to ask professional coaches and players for advice for future reference. Sometimes, people who are that good get recruited to play on a team outside of school with the professionals.

That happens to maybe a couple of students out of the multitude of schools put together. Being chosen is such an amazing opportunity, you get to be on national television, by any chance make history, and get paid tons and other good things, but you weren’t banking on it this year.  The odds of you getting scouted out were more than average, however, there are still things you’re insecure about when it comes to playing.

If anything, you need to secure those first before putting yourself out there, on national television.

“Beasty…” he says as if he had a question.

“Yes...?” you lazily nod slowly, watching his tongue glide over his teeth while smirking. 

He better not ask to be my additional person

Was he going to ask you if he could be your extra guest this evening? You’re currently figuring out who’s that going to be, but it damn sure wasn’t going to him.

“Will-”

You squint your eyes, hoping this isn’t leading to a proposal. “Wait… you aren’t suggesting that I should take you-”

 “No, I’m already going,” he claims, shaking his head. “And I have my date for this evening. I was just wondering about yours.”

Date, hm?

“So, who is it?” he asks, intrigued. 

It's purely silent for a moment, but you think of something quickly to save yourself from the embarrassment-

You quickly speak up. "I have a date,” you throw in proudly, ignoring how big of a lie that is. 

All you care about is covering your ass at the moment, not the backlash.

you’re such a fucking liar.

"Right, so who is it?"

You dodge his question. “Who's your date, Jungkook?” you ponder, pretending that your curiosity isn’t bouncing off the walls. You could feel it in your bones.

Jungkook isn't an athlete for the school, so that means the person he will be attending the event with is someone who goes to this school or someone else.

His face twitches with amusement. Seeing you in his business is a sight for him. “A very good friend of mine…”

“Is she on my team?” 

“I can assure you she isn’t.” Jungkook cackles before confirming, “Volleyball players aren’t my type.”

Then what is?

•that’s a relief

“She goes to another school anyway. I can guarantee that you don’t know her.” Jungkook watches your eyes drop from his face to his neck, then grips the headphones firmly.

“Enough about mine,” he says as he changes the subject unexpectedly. “Who’s your…” A smile plastered on his face. “Date. And don't answer my question with another question."

Hm, who is your date??

"It's a secret," you whisper, motioning sealed lips. "I'll reveal mine once I see yours.”

He gives a subtle shrug. "Fair enough," Jungkook says, nodding his head, acknowledging your agreement.

*Bell rings!* 

“Oh, won’t you look at that?” Placing your hands on your hips, you point out, “It's time to go class…so-” you stare at the headphones again. “Are you going to hand them over or what?” 

Jungkook looks down at your hand and laughs when you extend it out. “Should I?” He calmly asks, pushing your buttons. You start to tap your foot impatiently, exaggerating your irritation.

He thinks to himself for a moment, before his eyes drop to the beats around his neck, then shortly locks eyes with your frustrated ones. “Actually… I want to hang onto these for a little while. These will come in handy during my workout.”

“Fine! Keep them,” you express with a dramatic slap to the side of your thighs. “But don’t think that I won’t get them back.”

As the warning bell rings, you shoot him a withering glare and without wasting a single second, you storm off to class with only one particular thing on your mind… and it wasn’t the headphones…

Who is Jungkook's date?

To be continued…

♡︎Taglist is here, lovelies

[baby-yongbok]

Grief

Felix × Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, kinda heavy, I'll say that it's heavy to be safe.

Word Count: 1,233

Summary: You had to find a way to numb the pain after losing your best friend, but hurting your boyfriend wasn't part of the plan.

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, Heavy Themes of Grief, Themes of toxic Coping skills, Yelling, Cursing.

A/N: it's grieving season for me so here's an attempt to let my feeling out ✨️enjoy✨️ this doesn't seem dark to me but I don't think like everyone else, please pay attention to the tags. + I'm uploading from my phone, so I'm sorry if anything looks stupid 🙃

✨️Masterlist✨️

The doorknob twisted and turned vigorously as you fought with your keys. Your senses were off, but who's wouldn't be after taking as many shots as you have tonight.

Finally, you manage to find the right key and you're hoisted inside by your own body weight. You giggle at yourself as you stumble into the dark living room. The sound of your thick converse against the hardwood echoing off the walls. You shut the door a lot harder than you meant to, earning another giggle to fall from your lips.

"Are you going to keep doing this?" You jump at the sound of your boyfriend's smooth voice. Looking around with your blurry vision until your eyes landed on Felix sitting in the arm chair across from you. His voice is relatively calm, angry but calm.

"What?" You asked, plopping down on the couch and slipping your sneakers off. Before he can answer you're pulling yourself back up and stumbling your way over to the kitchen.

"You know what, going out and getting drunk. Drowning out your consciousness every night." Felix follows you, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he watches you closely. His eyes look sad but you're too inebriated to comment.

"It's fine. It's fun." You slur slightly as you try your best to extend yourself, standing on your toes to reach the top shelf of the cabinet. Felix watches you as you try to reach a bottle of red wine, a very expensive bottle that you both agreed to save for special occasions. Felix runs his hands over his face before he walks over to you. You smile at him thinking that he's going to help you. He leans forward, aggressively reaching up and slamming the cabinet shut, sobering you up a bit.

"What the fuck, Felix." You jump at the sound and push his shoulder. He glares down at you.

"I need you to stop this. This isn't the right way to deal with grief, me and the guys are here for you. We can find a good therapist, there are resources out there."

"Therapy doesn't fucking bring her back." You yell, eyes wide with anger. You've been working hard to get the feelings to go away. You've been going out nearly every night, drinking and trying to live your best life even though your partner in crime since Pre-school is gone. Felix nods, taking a deep breath to level his emotions.

"I understand that but this isn't healthy and -" A loud scoff leaves your lips, you shake your head as your anger rises.

"I don't need a fucking lecture. You have no idea what it's like to lose your best friend." Those were the words that made Felix snap, his vision went dark. Everything that he had been holding back for weeks poured out in an instant.

"The hell I do, I've been watching you, my best friend, practically kill herself with alcohol for an entire month. I can't do this shit anymore, Y/n. I'm trying, I'm trying so hard to be there for you but you just aren't there anymore. You're not even willing to look in the damn mirror and see that you're falling apart. Do you think she'd be proud of this shit?"

Felix's deep voice bounced off of the walls and echoed through your head. He's never yelled at you before, this is the first time that he's used the deep tone of his voice towards you in an act of anger. Such an intense one at that. You stand there wide eyed and teary as Felix runs his hands through his hair, pacing a bit as more anger creeps up his throat. His loud deep voice ringing through your ears again.

"Nothing that I do seems to fucking matter, I've called therapists, I've tried to get you to go. I tried at home management. I tried giving you your space. Chan tells me not to hover, Hyunjin tells me to be open minded, Changbin tells me to guide you in the right direction but all that you want is the fucking alcohol. I've stayed up night after night worrying about you. I've cried during practices, I've cried on the phone with my sister, I've cried so fucking much because I'm losing you. You're standing right in front of me but I don't know who you are."

"Felix - " You take a step towards him, reaching for him but he takes a step back, shaking his head and cutting you off.

"No I can't, I don't want to hear it. I know that you're hurting, I understand that but I can't ignore my own pain anymore." Felix leans against the counter, hands in his hair as he slides down onto the floor.

"I quit, Y/n. I can't take it, I can't watch you kill yourself." His voice is softer now. He's sitting on the cool kitchen tile, knees to his heaving chest.

Tears fall from your eyes as you watch him. The weight of the moment is crashing down on you and you can't help but to crash with it. You can feel it all creeping up on you, the pain that you fought so violently to avoid is doubled. You were so focused on the person that you'd lost that you ended up pushing away the person that you still have. Dealing with grief is hard, it's earth shattering and painful but adding to the pain doesn't help. All of the drinks that you've had up until this point aren't worth the sight in front of you. It isn't worth hearing your boyfriend scream at the top of his lungs. It isn't worth seeing your boyfriend break right in front of you.

You double over, sobbing into your hands as you take it all in. You stop fighting the pain, falling to your knees. Mumbled apologies fall from your mouth as you try your best to explain but none of it makes sense. You want to give him an explanation, you want to be vulnerable for the first time in the last month since you lost your best friend. You want to hug her, Felix, yourself.

Felix would usually comfort you, but not tonight. Tonight he's decided to save himself. Tears decorate his freckled cheeks as he pulls himself from the floor, he looks over at you for a second too long muttering a small 'I'm sorry' before reluctantly leaving the kitchen and slowly climbing the stairs. You listen as he shuts one of the upstairs doors and the tears fall faster, sobbing harder into your hands.

Is it too late? Did you drive him away? You can't lose him too, you can't take that. You hug yourself tight, trying your best to feel some type of warmth, some type of comfort but it isn't enough. Your breath catches in your throat as everything plays over in your head. You feel heavy with pressure, you're a balloon that's slipped from a child's hands into the sky. You can feel yourself drifting away until you hit the atmosphere and suddenly, you pop.

Screams fill the quiet space around you. Your throat burns as you let it all out, every word you didn't get to say to your best friend, every tear that you refused to cry, all of it comes tumbling out in a raw display of pain. Grief in its purest form.

[simping-overload]

ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏʟ' ᴛɪᴍᴍʏ Qᴜɪᴄᴋɪᴇ

a/n: I was possessed by the writing gods and was forced to write this at 3 am. I was so tired, but I literally could not put my phone down.

tags: quickies, public sex, library sex, anal, spit as lube, male/amab reader, no pronouns used.

characters: tim stoker and reader

read on ao3

wanna support me or commison a fic? check out kofi!

You were tired, hungry, and most importantly horny. Being teased all day with very scandalous pictures from Tim during his many coffee breaks while you slave away, sorting the archive.

You had your final straw when he sent you a picture of him holding his half-hard cock. You slammed your phone down so fast and hard(ha) it scared Martin. You apologized profusely to the man leaving the room, not bothering to bring your things.

You're quick to text Tim again, covering your phone so the cameras couldn't see anything. Not as if that would stop a certain someone anyway.

'get your ass to the library.'

';) knew you couldn't resist me'

With your speed walking nearly jogging pace, it took you no longer than 6 minutes to reach the library. Slipping into the area and to your usual corner.

You've done this a few times before, and there's no point in stopping since you've never been caught. The spot is thankfully not a well traveled section. Even the clerks choose to stay out of it unless they have to go in. It was a small area, tucked into the farthest corner of the vast library.

Tim is already there, sitting in one of the chairs. His shirt partially opened, showing off his cleavage. He smirks when he sees you, leaning back and spreading his legs, clearly inviting you to feast.

And feast you do.

You waste no time in diving down. You place a knee on the cushion in between his legs as you steal his lips for a sloppy kiss. You can still taste the faintest bit of coffee on them.

Your hands move up his thighs and under his shirt. His stomach flexes when your cold hands touch his warm skin.

Tim curls his arm around your neck, intangling a hand in your hair. He tugs, you hiss, allowing his bold tongue to slip in and feel the inside of your mouth.

You take your hands from under his shirt and move to unbutton it. You fumbled with the buttons a bit but managed to get it undone soon enough.

He whines when you part from the kiss, and you shush him. Kissing down his neck and to his chest, you latch onto one of his nipples, a tongue swirling around the bud.

Tim bites his lip to muffle his whines. Christ, he keeps forgetting how sensitive they are— and the fact you're so skilled at using your mouth doesn't help.

You pull off the nipple. A long thing of saliva follows you for a moment before you latch onto the other. With a little more bite into it, you managed to squeeze a low moan out of the man.

He already felt like he was getting close, but he couldn't cum not yet. Not until he had you inside of him.

He tugs at your hair, pulling you away to look at him. "Please, I need you." He begs, you comply.

With ease, you unbuckled his belt and undue his pants. He lifts himself up slightly, so you can help pull his pants down, fucker went commando.

His dick was long, slightly thick, and a slight curve to the left. His tip was a pretty pink that matched his nipples.

You began to unbuckle and unzip your pants, ignoring the inpatient grinds of the man before you. Pulling your pants and boxers down your cock springs free, hard against your stomach.

Tim drools at the sight.

You pause for a second, digging through your pants pocket for a condom.

When you pull it out, Tim frowns.

"W-Whats that for? I thought you were going to creampie me." He says, talking in a low volume just above a whisper. He's right. You were planning on that.

"Since you decided to go commando, I won't risk a stain appearing on your pants. Unless you brought a plug."

He sighs, he wouldn't mind it no... but he'd rather keep his poor excuse for a job. He nods, understanding.

You lean forward, mouth close to his ear and whisper, "Wait for me after work, I'll take you home n' give you a real one." Tim shivers.

Tearing the wrapper off, you roll the condom on until it's secure enough to saty still.

"Prep?" You ask, you know he likes having the ability to choose depending on his mood. His mood now is that he needs you, no matter how much it'll hurt.

He shakes his head.

You hold your hand out, "Spit." You ordered.

He complied, watching as you smeared it all over the condom. You straightened up slightly, grabbing a hold of Tim before turning him around. It'd be easier and more comfortable, for the both of you, to fuck him this way.

His hands were holding onto the top of the chair, knees now on the cushion. His ass down and flushed against your pelvis. You spit on his hole, and he clenches at the feeling.

He looks over his shoulder, grin wide on his lips as he wiggles his hips. His mouth opened to taunt before shutting close when he felt you press into him.

Tim lurched forward, his knuckles turning white from how strong his grip was. It hurts, burns, and holy hell, it feels so good.

You lean forward, resting your head against his shoulder and your hands resting over his as you bottom out.

No matter how many times you've fucked the man he will always surprise you with just how tight he is. The way his ass sucks you in like a vacuum, walls clenching around you, not wanting to let go.

You begin to move slowly. Wanting to have Tim adjust to the feeling before going faster. Tim let's himself be rocked to your movements, eyes shut to try and feel more of it.

You press kisses into the back of his neck, sucking in a hickey as you increase your pace. He turns his head to you, resting his temple against your forhead.

His eyes are filled to the brim with lust and yearning. Gods, he looks beautiful like this. Unbuttoned shirt, slightly messy hair, and lovely ass clenching around you.

You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his lips as you had before. You brush against his prostate, causing him to moan loudly into your mouth.

You move your hands from his, one goes to his dick and the other to his chest. Twirling a nipple in between your pointer and thumb, you can hear your balls slapping against his rear.

Now, with your hand on his dick Tim was not going to last. You swirl your thumb around the tip, feeling the tip leak more precum.

You start to stroke his cock matching it to the rhythm of your thrusts. Tim whimpers, a shakey hand moving to tangle itself in your hair again. He was going over the edge and needed to feel grounded.

The chair squeaked under you, stressing under the power of your thrusts. Tim feels himself get lost in your mouth, barley leaving your addicting lips. The tight knot of arousal pools into his stomach, as it does yours. Parting from the kiss, you keep your forhead to his, eyes shut and enamored in the pleasure.

Your hips stutter and with a final thrusts you cum. With a few more strokes, Tim lets himself relase into your hand, uncaring if any spills out.

His chest is heavy as he breathes out, "That was...so hot." He mutters, with a knowing smile on his lips.

You grunt in agreement, pulling away with one more kiss before you carefully pull out of his ass. His hole instinctively clenches around the now empty space.

You bring the cum covered hand up to your mouth and lick until it's cleaned. Salty as expected, but not an overbearing kind.

You peel the condom off of your cock and tie it. Leaving it hidden on the ground to dispose of later. You look to Tim, who smiles back at you, giddy.

"How're you feeling?" You ask, rubbing soothing circles into his hip.

"Really good...sleepy now though." Tim did look tired, his eyes drooping ever so slightly as he sways.

"Let's get you dressed first, and I'll take you to the room in the Archives." You wipe any excess cum off of his dick before tugging his pants back up. Buckling and buttoning it. You do the same to yours.

He groans as you turn him back around to button his shirt, leaning the top two unbutton just like he prefers.

You grab the condom, hiding it in Tim's lap, using his hands as a cover for it.

Tim leans into your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as he falls, sleep to the white noise of your breathing, and the Institute.

[thelostandforgottenangel]

We'll Get Through This Together

Tears were streaking down her face in fast rivers as she stared at the counter of her bathroom unable to breathe much less speak as she looked down on that small object that was saying her life was about to change forever

A change she most defiantly was not ready for

Time seemed to just freeze around the trembling woman having no idea how long she had been standing there before finally choking out the saddest wail dropping to the floor unable to take in air as her hands scrambling for her phone when it beeped from the jacket pocket seeing the turtles name popping up as she opened it; his simple ‘Hey’ set off a whole new emotion

Her fingers practically shook as she tried to text back but the happy response wouldn’t type itself

‘I need you… please hurry my place!!’

She waited what felt like an eternity before his predictable reply popped up unable to answer him typing faster terrified the second he tried to call her

‘Please you need to get to my place fast… please, please please you need to get here!!!’

She was shaking so bad the phone fell from her hands as she sobbed pushing herself into the corner unsure how he was going to take this… What if he found out and abandoned her too? What if he showed up and was angry at her for letting this happen?

What if this caused her to lose the only person who she had left…? To lose the only family she had in this world over her stupidity?

He continued to call her over and over his text messages becoming increasingly worried when she wouldn’t answer or message him back but the tears made it hard to see and her voice wouldn’t come out even if she had been able to answer

Less then ten minutes after the first text she had sent the sound of his heavy weight landed on her fire escape and the slam of her window being thrown open as he rushed into the apartment yelling her name startled her out of her panicked state; just the sound of his deep voice had her stumbling up and running to him a complete mess and blubbering like a child feeling him grab her in a tight hug she just dropped

The tightness of his arms around her shaking body had her clinging to the turtle for dear life knowing at any second he would be gone and she would be alone

But he was the only one she could possible reach out to; the only one she trusted in hopes he wouldn’t break her further

She could hear him asking what was wrong from what sounded like a great distance away, he had to be thinking her ex-boyfriend had shown back up and hurt her and that growl that carried in his voice sounded so terrifying she barely managed to look up at him

She was lost and afraid; seeing that his touch was fast to become gentle caressing her cheek coxing her to tell him what happened but this time his voice was soft and kind, carefully wiping her tears away with his thumb cradling her face in his hands and kissing both flushed cheeks telling her it would be okay before she lifted her hand

Slowly the woman looked at the item in her grasp unsure when she had grabbed it but when his eyes finally fell on it he laughed at her asking if that was what she was crying about

There in her palm was a small white and pink stick

The turtle took it as she scooted back from him her hand over her mouth continuing to let her tears fall as he looked at the cute item mumbling as he took in the two dark markings on each of the windows before he suddenly noticed the writing under his thumb shifting his fingers enough to read it and connect the dots

That was when the color in his face drained and his breath left him

“I- I’m pregnant…” his wide eyes looked up realizing exactly what was wrong before slipping down to stare at her belly for the longest time then meeting her eyes as she tried to cover herself starting to feel disgusted in herself “I can’t be I-? T-This wasn’t supposed to happen! I was just starting… we were-”

She was screaming in anger at this point grabbing the stick from his fingers and throwing it hard against the wall but before he could even say a word her stomach pitched and the color left her cheeks before she was running for the bathroom almost not making it before she was fighting to hold down somewhat of the food from dinner

She had just gotten away from her abusive ex-boyfriend Travis months ago after he had attacked her for being out when he got home; he had gone out to the bar with his friends and she had just wanted to get away from the apartment and see her sweet turtle friends walking home when he saw her

He had beaten her right there on the street in front of her building to the point she thought he was going to kill her only for the man to run when the man next door came out to see the attack, he was arrested two days later while she stayed with her friends to be safe

Weeks had gone by with no word from him and with the rest the woman was back to herself in no time deciding to go home and get ready to return to work the following day telling the turtle who insisted on staying that she would be fine

They had just brought her home and after bidding them goodbye she was hurrying to straighten up and cook dinner only to be assaulted by a force of unrelenting anger while she was cleaning up his mess; she thought she was home alone and hadn’t even heard him coming up behind her until he had slammed her into the counter throwing her to the floor as everything went dark

She couldn’t even remember what had transpired before coming to seeing him on top of her with his hands around her neck, her strangled screams for help had went unanswered until one of the males she trusted with her life had returned having brought her forgotten purse that he had spotted on the couch back knowing she would need it the next day

He saved her but for once was just a moment too late; what had happened was just ending and it took her hugging the turtle so tightly to stop him from murdering the bastard he had drug off of the woman in order to hold the sobbing female remembering he had held her until the police showed up

After he had taken her to the lair not giving her much of a choice where she stayed until him and his brother’s had wiped everything of his from her home and moved it to her new place far from where he knew where to find her

Three months… she finally had gotten her life on track with the help of her four mutant friends; finally the woman had her own place where she felt safe, had found a job she not only loved but was going somewhere with the company, she was about to start school next month to get her degree, and her and the turtle currently in her living room had just started to explore the idea of being more then friends

Life had just turned around

How could she have ruined all of this… why hadn’t she been able to stay conscious and tried to fight him harder-?

Why hadn’t she realized sooner that she wasn’t just suffering from the flu when her nausea hadn’t gone away after she started feeling a bit better… her co-worker had been the one to suggest the damn test but she never imagined it would actually show anything

As she kneeled on the bathroom floor there was no sounds from her living room, she was about to call out to him needing a water but just as his name left her lips sounding so pathetic she heard the main window close and again the apartment was silent feeling her heart drop into her stomach just knowing he had left her

Like she had thought he had left her

A soft sob echoed around her before jumping as a green hand brushed her hair back and lifted her chin shushing the upset woman softly

Looking over quickly she found him kneeling beside her wiping her face with a warm rag taking such care as to be his gentlest; finally handing her a bottled water the male instructed her to drink it slowly before taking a seat against the counter behind where she was, it didn’t take long before he was rubbing her back looking at the test in his hand and the expression on his face told her what he was thinking “It’s positive-”

He blamed himself

Her tears started to build up again sniffling as she tried to force her voice out “I’m sorry… I’m so- so sorry” her voice broke as she held her stomach having no clue what she was going to do.

“No don’t go starting that! This isn’t your fault” she looked at him going to argue but just as quickly as she started to lash out at herself he pulled the female into his arms holding her tight as he shushed her again this time rocking her as she cried into his chest nuzzling her head as she finally wrapped her arms around him whispering out his next words as he comforted her “It’s not your fault baby… it’s going to be okay I got you”

How long he sat on that cold bathroom floor didn’t seem to matter they both stayed there; the turtle just looking at the test, his slow breathing and steady heart beat soothing her into a shocked calm while he petted her hair seeing although she was upset her hand tenderly laid over her belly

She couldn’t bare the idea of an abortion it wasn’t the child’s fault so why would she punish it for existing… and as crazy as it sounded she didn’t want to just give her baby into the system where the child might bounce in and out of foster care

But - she couldn’t support a baby; hell she couldn’t even support herself how was she going to care for a child

His own thoughts raced unsure what to do to help not even sure if she wanted to talk until finally he tossed the test on the counter pulling her up with him then carrying his friend to the bedroom lying down with her remaining silent as she curled into his chest and for a while he was sure she had passed out against him

This had to have just wiped her energy

He nodded off for a bit always stirring occasionally to check on her only to find she hadn’t moved gently covering her up with a blanket kissing her head then dosing back off slowly keeping his arm around her

Hours passed by almost too quickly until dawn started to lighten the sky outside the window but she hadn’t rested her mind racing over everything until it all became too much

He suddenly jumped as some time later she moved to fast sitting up brushing her tangled hair back in a bit of a nervous panic that had him shifting to sit up leaning his shell on the headboard half asleep but let her sit for a bit just wanting to be there for support “What am I going to do…? I can’t be pregnant I just can’t – I don’t want a baby by him…” she started to freak out again but the jolt of her suddenly choking had her leaning over the side of the bed reaching for her trash bin

He was starting to see her being emotional seemed to be the trigger for her morning sickness now but still said nothing grabbing her water from the side table whispering for her to breathe before he got up going to look and see if she had some crackers or something light to help with the nausea

He had to take a deep breath before coming back to see her at the mirror looking over her belly that now being uncovered was starting to show looking at him with the most hopeless expression when he moved further into the room standing behind her

“What am I going to do what if he finds out… what if he-!?”

“He won’t” even with his own uncertainty he realized he needed to be her rock; a soft smirk came over his lips as he kissed the woman’s head delicately bringing her to sit in his lap wanting the woman to rest before she made herself sick again kissing at the soft skin of her neck “He isn’t going to find out anything… and you’re not going to tell him or anybody who knows the bastard”

She turned looking to him in pure confusion even as the large mutant placed his chin on his friends shoulder “What-? Look this isn’t going to be something I can just hide in a few months I’m going to be- huge…” her words stopped as his large hand gently came over her belly sighing before he gave a small smile

The males bright eyes on the small belly as he carefully handled it seeming to be coming to terms with what he was going to do

She turned more looking up at him her mouth slightly agape trying to tell him this wasn’t something she wanted to push onto him but no words managed to come as the turtle leaned in kissing her lips softly his forehead pressing to hers saying it with no hesitation “You heard me… we’ll get through this together no matter what. I’m going to be there for both of you I promise”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

She nervously grabbed the bag she had packed that morning from her chair heading out the door almost as fast as she had came in it just minutes ago needing to see her turtle boyfriend who had made this whole traumatic ordeal worth experiencing since the night she told him he had become very attentive over the last few weeks

More so then she could have ever asked

It didn’t matter how busy he had gotten between training and protecting the city every day he was there to check on her and the baby she was struggling to accept even helping if she needed it; he had even gone so far as to stay the night several times when she did in order to hold her together

But that anxiousness and uncertainty she felt had almost dissipated after the second week of him being at her side; waking up one night to find him with his face pressed to her stomach talking so softly to the little bean growing inside her just after her first doctor’s visit was a warm memory she never wanted to forget

They had found out she was fourteen weeks along but the doctor had been unable to see the baby well enough because the child was curled up in an odd position almost hiding it seemed but when he had gotten to see the ultrasound photo while holding her as she pointed out the tiny form that his eyes had immediately spotted she could see it in an instant

He was already in love with the baby

Today she had gotten a follow up ultrasound in order to hopefully see more of the baby and had the results to show him having stopped off at the store for a few things in order to calm her mind but now; just like the night she found out she felt that fear rising in her chest, but like he always did just as she got on the bus and her mind was dragging her into those dark thoughts he had called to check on her

Just seeing his screensaver had her forgetting her troubles

“What happened!?! You promised to call me- it’s almost three hours later” his voice revealing just how anxious he was just like her actually pulled a smile to her face calming her nerves before she looked around making sure nobody was too close to her

“I uh… I just got back from the doctors office I’m sorry - I’ll be there in a little bit I’m coming to see you right now”

The line went silent on his end for a moment but that just told her he had probably moved somewhere for a bit of privacy away from anyone in hearing range knowing he hadn’t told his family yet wanting to be sure nothing was wrong with her or the baby before telling anybody the news “Everything okay? Is the baby doing good?”

“Well-” his low tone made her look at the picture she had been clutching in her hand for the last hour not wanting him to find out over the phone, not for something this important she also couldn’t bare to think he’d back out now “Doctor said everything looks great completely healthy - I’ll tell you more when I get there” his irritated growl actually made her giggle out loud as she realized he was acting just like a worried father already placing the photo in its envelope before biting her lip “I promise I’ll be there soon… I love you”

Her face went red when she realized those words left her lips not hearing him on the other end she quickly hung up part of her thinking it was way too soon for her to have ever said those three words but the smile on her face was just proof she had said them in all loving truth

Once she reached her stop she walked as quickly as possible towards the garage checking to be sure she wasn’t being followed before slipping through the door and locking it behind her then hurrying towards the back getting anxious just to tell him what was going on

The elevator ride didn’t last too long but she was sure it had never moved drawing in a slow breath giving herself a pep talk trying to remind herself it was all going to be okay before jumping as she heard the loud ‘ding’ above her and the door was slipping open

The warmth and light of the lair was enough for her to calmly step off into the main area getting ready to call out to him as she moved to drop her stuff on the couch but before she could was caught in a tight loving hug physically just relaxing as her arms went around him nuzzling into the turtle’s neck as her loving boyfriend held her scenting the woman

She hadn’t noticed it but he was always telling her how the moment he had seen her that night her scent was off but in a good way – had he realized what it was he may have known she was carrying before she had found out

“Tell me everything! Are there pictures? Was he able to see if the baby was a-”

Patting his arm fast shushing urgently to silence him before they could be caught she took his hand as he grabbed her bags off her shoulder and quickly pulled the woman off to his room closing the door and locking it while she was digging through her pack to pull out a small outfit in his color with the cutest little turtles brandishing it against her growing belly hearing him laugh as he took in the tiny onesie before he was cradling her bump with both hands

A small kiss to her head had the woman holding up the envelope but feeling the anxiety raising as he reached for it made the woman pull it to her chest “Before I show you… please promise me-”

“Hey; I’m not going anywhere… now how’s our baby?” he sat down on the bed scooting back to give her room calmly waiting until she handed him the envelope seeing her playing with her fingers knowing the nerves were eating away at his mate “So the baby is healthy… there were no problems” her nod seemed to relax his shoulders as she pulled her purse to her watching as he opened the pastel green envelope pulling out the several sonograms slowly shifting through them

His smile was infectious seeing the pride within his eyes as he took in the tiny form in one of the black and white pictures before shifting to the next his eyes squinting before reaching over nearly knocking over the lamp as he tried to turn it on looking at the photo with a better light

His eyes widened almost comically before he turned to look at her holding it up “A and B…?” her eyes had already filled with tears making him move taking her hands in his; his eyes showing every emotion between fear, worry, and happiness as he looked at the photo again “What does that mean?”

He fell silent as she held up the second matching outfit with a sad smile seeing the turtle finally got it before finally saying what she had been waiting to the whole time since seeing the sonogram screen

“It’s twins Daddy-”

He practically jumped from his bed the picture in hand pacing making her think the worse before he turned with the biggest grin whooping from his excitement so loudly it had his brothers coming to check on him calling out he’d explain later

The woman was just watching him as he turned coming back to the bed capturing her in a tight hug “I love you… Oh I love you so much” a chuckle left the male as he started kissing her cheeks then her lips so lovingly before kneeling in front of her nuzzling at her bump pressing several kisses to the growing middle “Twin! I get two- we’re having two babies!”

He was almost trembling in his happiness and for a moment she thought she saw tears in his eyes before he was nuzzling against her bump whispering softly to the two lives she was carrying

 “I guess we got a lot to do then to be ready for them… But first please let me go tell them!”

She had only managed to nod still in shock as she watched the happy turtle practically bursting with happiness before he flung the door open yelling for his family then coming back quickly picking her up with the pictures and outfits taking her downstairs with him

Her heart was pounding the moment she saw his brothers hurrying to see what was going on her chest tightening at the knowing smirk on his father’s lips somehow already knowing what was coming before her boyfriend held up not just one but both little outfits with the biggest smile

“Hope you guys are ready to be uncles”

Once those words left his lips the room went quiet all three of the other turtles thinking he was joking until she held up the picture then – they exploded and the reaction was almost better than his

“You have got to be pulling our legs”

“Dude you are so lying… you liars!”

“There’s no way! Let us see those-”

They came over looking at the pictures as one of the turtles had took them from her hands looking at the two little forms she pointed out before there was another uplifting explosion of joy getting so many hugs and having to show Splinter once she managed to get the pictures back

His hug had brought tears for the woman hugging him just as tight as she cried into his shoulder

For once she couldn’t remember why she had been so scared once her boyfriend was holding onto her as the family talked about all they could do to prepare for the twins

The brother’s talking over all the furniture they could make, how to paint the nursery, how they could get anything and everything the babies could ever need

It didn’t matter to them and now she had wished they had told the guys sooner because like him the support was there all of them offering her assistance in whatever she needed

This – this was what was going to get her through

She had her family by her side

@fyreball66

[loveesiren]

𝖲𝗇𝗈𝗐𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 - 𝖢.𝖲.

DISCLAIMER: This is my first Sturniolo fic and I have taken a longggg break from writing so I am very rusty. Sorry in advance that this most likely sucks. I'm also not great with fluff but I thought this was cute so I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think <3

Synopsis: In which Y/n finds the one person who brings joy to her life.

Warnings: Language, broken family (deceased father, alcoholic mother, troubled youth), fluff, cigarettes, very brief mention of drugs

Word Count: 2.4k+

“I WISH I WASN’T EITHER!” You screamed at your mother before slamming the door and walking out into the cold winter night. You grabbed a cigarette from your coat pocket and placed it between your teeth as you searched for your lighter. You brought it to the tip of your cigarette, flicking it a few times until it finally lit. 

I wish you weren’t my daughter. The words echoed in your head as you made your way down the dimly lit street. Light snow fell from the sky and your neighborhood was silent, the fluffy white powder absorbing all sound. The space around you was liminal. It was nights like these that were perfect for clearing your head. 

Chris’s POV

I heard Y/n yelling and I immediately turned my attention to the window. I slipped my headphones off, completely ignoring Matt and Nick and abandoning the game. I watched as Y/n clicked her lighter to light up her cigarette before walking off down the street. She looked sad. That wasn’t unusual. Especially this time of year.

I’d grown up next to Y/n my whole life. I’d dare to even say she is my friend. Although maybe she doesn’t feel the same about me? She was confusing at times. She was often quiet and kept to herself at school. She was really kind. But I’d also seen her lay someone out before for disrespecting her. She was smart as hell but always managed to end up in detention and for some reason I found myself getting into situations to get detention just so I could hang out with her. 

Obviously, my parents didn’t love that but she was so intriguing. The whole neighborhood knew of her situation. Her mom definitely wasn’t the most pleasant neighbor. Y/n tried to escape that as much as she could but she was still viewed as the “troubled kid” growing up. Now we are 18 and on the verge of graduating. I was beginning to fear that she’d be gone soon. She’d told me before how she couldn’t wait to get out of this town, that there was nothing keeping her here. 

Where would you go? I texted her.

Idk. Maybe the Outer Banks? Learn to surf, search for treasure, live like a Pogue. Lol. She responded.

We didn’t always stay up late texting but when we did our conversations were always interesting. I was always excited to see my phone screen light up with her name. It wasn’t constant, but often enough that Matt and Nick began to notice.

“Who are you texting?” Nick asked one day.

“Yeah, you smile like a goof every time you look at your phone.” Matt added.

“No one,” I responded quickly. 

“That’s a fucking lie. Who is it?” Nick asked again. Matt quickly snatched my phone from my hands and ran away with it.

“Matt, what the fuck!” I yelled as I attempted to chase him. Matt tossed it over my head and Nick caught it at the perfect time for Y/n to text me back. My phone lit up with her name and photo and Nick's jaw dropped.

“Y/n?!”

“Ew, the weird bitch?” Matt added.

“She’s not fucking weird!” I snapped, grabbing my phone back. “Don’t fucking worry about it.” I stormed off to my room and since then they haven’t brought it up. Which was fine by me. They didn’t take the time to get to know her, no one did. She was actually cool as fuck.

I thought about texting her as I watched her walk further down the street. But it just didn’t feel right. I wanted to talk to her in person. 

“Dude! What are you doing?” Matt burst through my door. “You totally fucked me and Nick in the game!”

“I’m done playing for now.” I told him as I went to my closet to grab my coat and snow boots.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be back in a bit, okay?”

“Chris!”

I hated keeping things from my brothers but this was something I didn’t feel like discussing with them further. They made it clear they didn’t care about Y/n. The only time they ever made comments is when they noticed her and her mom fighting. They knew she was my friend and that’s all they needed to know. All I cared about was catching up with Y/n and making sure she was okay. It was absolutely freezing outside. 

I left out the backdoor without responding to Matt and made my way down the street.

Y/n’s POV

You let the tears fall freely from your eyes as you dragged your cigarette. One more semester until you graduate and then you could leave this god awful suburb for the rest of your life. After your dad died when you were just thirteen, your mom took all her anger out on you. The last five years had been miserable. You missed your dad. You missed when your mom didn’t drink. You missed when you were a regular family. Now you were just the girl everyone felt sorry for. The troubled one.

You made your way to the small pond near the end of your neighborhood. You were ready to sit and let the stillness of the water distract you until you heard footsteps behind you. Your body tensed, nervous for who would be out here at this hour. You reached in your pocket and grabbed your knife, quickly pulling it and turning it on the person walking your way.

“Whoa, whoa!” The dark figure said, stopping in his tracks with his hands up. “It’s me! Chris!”

“Chris?” You asked softly, lowering your knife. He stepped forward. It was indeed Chris Sturniolo. You took a deep breath at the sight of him. “You scared the fuck out of me!” You scolded.

“I’m sorry…” He said. Unsure if he should walk closer or not.

“It’s fine,” You chuckled. “What are you doing out here?”

“Oh, you know, just enjoying the freezing weather.” He said, smiling and stepping closer to you. 

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” You joke as your teeth chattered. 

“What are you doing out here, Y/n?” Chris asks, his voice more serious now.

“Just needed some air.” You told him. “I like this pond in the summer. There are lots of frogs. I wonder where they all go in the winter…” Your face fell as you pondered the thought.

“Y/n..”

You sniffled as you looked down at the pond. Chris always knew. “What.” You responded. It wasn’t a question.

“You have mascara running down your cheeks.”

Christopher Sturniolo might have been the only person to ever see you cry. He always knew and he was always there. It was a rare occasion but as you thought back on it, he always seemed to appear when you were sad and find a way to cheer you up. Whether it be walking home with you, trying to make you laugh, or even just sitting next to you silently so you wouldn’t be alone.

“She said she wishes I wasn’t her daughter.” You confessed, allowing your head to fall. Chris wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him. Normally you hated being touched but you felt so comfortable with him. He wrapped one hand around your lower back and the other made its way to your hair as he towered just above you. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. You deserve so much more.” He said softly.

You cried more at his words. In what world did you deserve more? In what world did you deserve Chris?

“Y/n, you’re freezing.” 

“Yeah, I know. I’ll call Billy-”

“No. Come to my house.” He cut you off.

You were taken aback for a moment. You hadn’t been to the Sturniolo’s since their 13th birthday party. The only reason you were invited was because your father died. You couldn’t imagine his parents or brothers actually liked you. 

“Chris, I can’t just intrude like that-”

“You’re not intruding. And I don’t want you at Billy’s.” He stated. You’d never heard the sweet Chris Sturniolo sound so serious about something. Billy definitely wasn’t the best guy but he always gave you a place to stay when you needed it. “I don’t trust him.”

Chris had no reason to trust him. Billy was a dick and often fucked people over. But having him as a connect meant a place to stay and drugs to do as long as you put out or helped him out. But to be invited to Chris’s house made you nervous. His parents were sweet. His brothers were protective. Chris bringing you home would be like bringing home a stray raccoon. 

“Chris, I can’t.” You sigh.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not a good look sneaking some degenerate into your home at midnight,”

“I will walk you through the front door proudly,” He says. “Besides, my parents are asleep and my brothers are too invested in their game. Just come over for a bit to warm up? We can listen to music in my room.”

You thought about it for a moment.

“If you hate it, you live right across the street,” He smiled hopefully at you, 

You couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Fine.” You say. “But just for a little bit! Once my mom is asleep I’m going home.”

“Deal.” Chris agreed, throwing his arm over your shoulder and guiding you back towards the street.

The two of you walked back to his house with minimal conversation. 

“Wanna catch snowflakes?” Chris asked before sticking his tongue out and letting the snow fall on it.

You giggled at him but followed his lead. The crisp flakes on your tongue felt nice. You were having fun jumping around in the snow with Chris. You even stopped at the park to make stupid snow angels and throw snowballs at each other. Before you knew it, the snow was getting heavier, almost blizzarding. 

“C’mon!” Chris yelled, grabbing your hand and running towards his house. 

You made it to his porch and he opened the door slowly. The kitchen was mostly dark aside from the microwave light being on and the light that shined underneath Nick’s door. You could hear him still awake, obviously yelling at a video game he was playing. 

Chris put a finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet as you both slipped out of your boots. He grabbed your hand and you both tiptoed through the dimly lit house and up to his room. You made your way down the hall and followed Chris into his bedroom. 

“Make yourself at home,” He said with a smile. He went to his computer and logged into his Spotify. You scanned his room, noticing all the posters of his favorite artists on his walls. You could tell he was passionate about music. 

“Who’s your favorite?” You ask. He looks at you and you gestured to all the posters.

“Skies, for sure!” He says. “What about you?”

You unzip your coat to reveal the shirt you got at Grey Day last year. “$uicideboy$”

Chris smiles at you. “I’ve never really listened to them. What’s a good song?”

“A Death In The Ocean Would Be Beautiful,” You say as you slip off your coat and sit on his bed. 

Chris turns on his galaxy projector so that wave-like colors flow across his ceiling before he presses play and joins you on his bed. You both lay back and listen intently as you watch the lights. 

“They’re kind of depressing…” Chris admits after the song is over. 

You chuckle slightly. “Yeah, they can be. But they can be helpful. They get it, you know? What I’m going through.”

Chris turns on his side and you mirror his movements as if you were his natural reflection. “I hate hearing it every night.” He admits.

Your body curls into itself, you pull your sleeves further over your hands. “I’m sorry…”

“No, not like that,” He says, propping himself up on one arm and placing his other on your shoulder, gently tangling his fingers through the ends of your hair. “I just hate hearing you guys fight and seeing you walk out in the cold every night. You don’t deserve that.”

“Trust me, Chris. I’m no saint.” You say with a sad laugh. 

“Don’t have to be a saint to deserve basic respect, especially from your own family.” 

“I only have to deal with it for a few more months. When I graduate, I’m out of here.” You smiled at the thought. 

“You know…I’m really going to miss you…” Chris says softly. 

You look up to see his eyes already on you. You wanted to tell him you’d miss him too. You wanted to tell him to come with you, although you knew he’d never leave his brothers. You wanted to tell him he was the only good thing in your life and every time you were near him you felt happy and warm and like everything was going to be okay for once in your miserable fucking life. But with every single thought your brain contained about Chris Sturniolo, your mouth could only mutter three little words. 

“I love you…”

Chris’s lips parted slightly with shock as his eyes quickly scanned your features.

“Fuck! I’m sor-”

You were quickly cut off when he pressed his lips to yours. You were taken aback for a moment but quickly leaned in to deepen the kiss. He brought his hand up to cup your jaw and your fingers found their way to his hair. His lips were soft and sweet and you felt that fluttering feeling in the pit of your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. 

He pulled away slightly and you frowned at the loss of contact. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long fucking time…” He said, his voice almost a whisper. 

“I-I didn’t know you liked me…” You said. “Why?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You’re smart, you’re sweet, you know what you want, and pretty as hell.” He smiled. “Not to mention you’re like the strongest person I know. You deserve so much better than the cards you’ve been dealt.”

You felt tears welling in your eyes again but you couldn’t help but smile. You don’t know what you did to deserve the pretty boy who had his arms wrapped around you, but you hoped you never had to let him go. 

“Can I stay?” You asked shyly.

Chris smiled and pulled his comforter over both of you. “Please,” He said. 

You snuggled into him, resting your head on his chest while he played with your hair. 

“And Y/n?” He said, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Mmm?”

“I love you, too.”

Tagging a few mutuals! Let me know if you want to be added/removed from tag list :)

Tags: @strniohoeee @flowerxbunnie @christinarowie332 @kenzieiskoolaid @bluesturniolo333 @chrattnick @recklesssturniolo @soursturniolo @byechristopher @justangelheree @sturnimovies

[dark-elf-writes]

Another prompt for birthday week if you dont mind: Inko tries to get back on Izuku’s good side after abandoning him at her brother Shouta’s place because Izuku is a famous hero. Izuku’s partner cuts her off

Hitoshi just wanted to go to sleep.

It was hardly a new feeling for him. There was little he loved more than sinking onto the nearest semi-flat surface to catch whatever sleep he could after finishing his patrols, made even better when he could coax Izuku to lay with him, so he could soak in their warmth and bury his face in their curls to just breathe them in. But here, standing halfway in one of the second floor windows and making eye contact with familiar green eyes in a very unfamiliar face standing in front of his front door, there was little he wanted more than to be decidedly unconscious.

Instead he sighed as he eased back out the window, making sure to slide it closed before he dropped down to meet their unwelcome guest. The last thing he wanted was the sound to carry and wake Izuku. They needed all the rest they could get before their own patrol started... or someone called in a Code Red that couldn't be solved by anyone else.

Hitoshi shoved his hands in the deep pockets of his jumpsuit, and dipped his head into the coils of his capture scarf, cursing himself for slinging off his persona chords and hanging them from his belt when he caught sight of their home.

"What?"

The woman blinked, seemingly taken aback by the rude demand. Hitoshi couldn't imagine what else she expected showing up on a stranger's doorstep before dawn.

"I want to see my s-- my child."

"Tough. Now leave."

"Excuse--!"

Hitoshi wanted to slam his head into the door, but that would, unfortunately, wake Izuku who would come running to find them on the doorstep. He settled for a bone deep sigh instead. "Look, there's no way in hell I'm letting you see anyone that you might think is in this house, and, no, I will not be passing a message either. It is as a courtesy you do not deserve and out of a deep desire not to do any more work tonight that I am not going to arrest you for trespassing right here. Leave before I decide that having you gone is worth more to me than my dislike of paperwork."

"You can't keep my from my child!"

A flash of anger had Hitoshi barking out a cruel laugh. "Your child? Where?"

"Izuku is--"

"An Aizawa. Or, technically, Shinsou-Aizawa now. You made it damn clear that they weren't your child when you abandoned them, just like they made it clear that they wanted nothing to do with you should you come crawling back now that you think they're suddenly valuable to you. Now I have had a very long night and don't have the patience to hold your hand through what child abandonment means. Get off of my property before I remove you from it. I guarantee I will enjoy the second option far more than you will."

Inko Midoriya huffed as she seemingly decided that whatever her plan was would work better when not in jail for trespassing and stomped her way back down the path. Hitoshi watched until she disappeared around the corner. Waited even longer until his phone buzzed in his pocket.

(How Nezu knew what was going on, Hitoshi didn't want to know. He liked being able to sleep whenever he could manage it, and the politest Not Shovel Talk of his life at sixteen had done enough damage to that already. All he needed to know was Nezu was just as protective over his former personal student as he was.)

Izuku stirred when Hitoshi finally slipped into bed, all sleep-warm skin and pillow lines through their smile as they seemingly tried to climb into him they pressed so close. "What took you so long?" They mumbled into his bare shoulder.

"Nothing important," He promised, pressing a kiss to their curls. "Just an annoyance."

They hummed and moments later their soft snores filled the room once more. Hitoshi smiled before following them into sleep.

[tilly-tilly-2827]

Light Switch

Synopsis: “Why are you callin’ at 11:30. When you only wanna do me dirty. But I hit right back ‘cause you got that, that yeah,”

The unhinged modern AU of the disfunctional Beneophies; both clearly in a total mess. Or the little Drabble that I can’t get out of my head inspired by the song Light Switch by Charlie Puth.

⚠️ SMUT. SMUT. NSFW. Very darker version of Benedict Bridgerton and Sophie Beckett. Benedict Bridgerton at his worst. Please be warned.

Read in AO3 from here!

Casanova, Casanova, Casanova

Sophie Beckett knew she shouldn’t take the call when the name popped out on the screen at 11:30 in the evening. Just out of the shower, Sophie was ready to curl herself in the sheets, already changed into her cotton checkered pajamas with a mug of mint tea in her hands. Working as a junior editor at the London office of the Whistledown was no easy job, and she knew it was wiser to ignore the call and rest for another hectic day ahead.

But even the inorganic digital letters were enough to make her feel his strong fingers trace the curves of her outline, his heavy breaths muttering her name like a benediction, his heat pressing hotly against her thighs, or even the weight of his thick length on her lips...

“Still up, my love?”

His hoarse deep voice from the speaker sent shivers down her spine, even though it was a muggy summer night in July. A few months earlier, Sophie’s heart would have fluttered at his endearment, but she was more experienced as to know that the same words had been whispered to countless men and women.

“Ben,”

“Be there in five,”

And just like that, Benedict Bridgerton was leaning against the door in the shabby hallway of her tiny studio apartment, with a crooked smile that never failed to make her knees melt.

“Good evening, Ms. Beckett.”

His tone was light and teasing, as always, but Sophie knew immediately that it was one of his desperate days as he grabbed the back of her neck in one swift motion, taking her into a deep, hungry kiss.

Cigarettes and whiskey, Sophie noticed the bitter taste on his lips, the familiar smell on his perfectly tailored jacket, insinuating that he had been in the posh upper-class parties. He was oddly wet and sweaty, adding a musky smell to his usual sandalwood cologne. As his grip on her hair tightened, his nails biting into her skin, she could hear her sanity screaming Don’t, Don’t, Don’t. But she couldn’t bring herself to slam the door in his face; ** his passionate kisses already left her dizzy and breathless, how could she ignore the burning hardness grinding her against her hips, igniting the blazing fire within her that only he could control?

Slamming the door behind him, Benedict pushed her against the wall, skillfully slipping his hands inside her pajamas, one hand pinching the tip of her breasts, the other hand already snaking below her waist. His lips curled into a smirk as he felt the slick mess between her legs when he hadn’t even touched the center of her pleasure.

“Aren’t you as convenient as ever?” Benedict cooed seductively, his hands were already working on the metal buckle of the belt. “Quite flattering when a phone call and a kiss is all it takes,”

“Ben, condoms,” Sophie managed to croak out between breaths and moans as his hands shoved down her pajama bottom and her underwear, both pooling shamelessly at her ankles.

“You’re not on pills?” Benedict stopped, jutting out his chin belligerently.

“I didn’t know that you were coming,”

Benedict cursed under his breath, and Sophie could only stare at him as he went through his pocket; a pack of cigarettes, a silver vintage lighter, and a rumpled fifty-pound note dropped at their feet. At last, he fished the pink wrapper from the bottom of his pocket, and he quickly took his stiffening cock in his hands, giving it several strokes. A wicked part of his mind was demanding to force Sophie to her knees, but all he could think was how he could be buried deep inside her. Immediately.

“Hands on the wall,” Benedict muttered as he rolled down the elastic on his shaft, and Sophie looked at him with her evergreen gaze, the innocence in her eyes making his cock twitch.

“But Ben,”

“You didn’t hear what I said?”

“Ben.”

“Hands.”

Slightly bending herself over against the wall, Sophie could hear Benedict’s animalistic growl as he gripped her hips, setting the tip of his shaft to her entrance. Sophie bit her lips to suppress a scream as Benedict pounded inside her in one quick thrust, tasting the faint taste of blood in her mouth.

“Sophie, Sophie, Sophie.”

Despite the brutal pace Benedict had chosen to fuck her, rutting inside her in a merciless rhythm, his voice was achingly soft and tender, her name slipping out of his lips. Sophie could only moan and graze her nails against the wall as Benedict continued his deepest strokes, stretching her to her limits.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about this all night,” He rasped, grasping her blond curls in his hand, tugging the golden strands with each thrust. Hot tears filled her eyes as his teeth bit into her shoulders, leaving a hot striking pain on her skin. “All mine,” he growled, bringing his hands to her neck, tightening his grip around her throat. “Mine.”

“No,”

“No?”

“No.”

He winced slightly as Sophie’s nails bit into the back of his palm, a sharp snip on his skin. He quickly dropped his hands, but Sophie gently took his hands to hers, her delicate fingers intertwining with his.

“Like this,”

Sophie’s breathless whisper and the coolness of her fingertips made Benedict dizzy and hazy, more than the whiskey or the champagne he had chugged down a few hours earlier. He pushed deep within her with a new rigor; in an unrelenting grind, again and again. Sophie knew that she was in an utter mess; her whole body trembling and shaking at the burning sensation.

“Ben, please,” Sophie’s plea came out as a desperate sob, and Benedict softened his thrust, relaxing his grip. Finding a the small freckle on the back of her neck, in the brief second, Benedict placed his lips on the exact place, tasting the soft saltiness on her skin. But just at that moment, Sophie gave a small yelp and he felt her tighten around his cock. Benedict’s sanity just shattered into pieces.

“Sophie, Sophie, Sophie.”

The sound of their hips snapping, Sophie’s small gasp and cries, and Benedict’s low grunts of her name were the only sounds that echoed through the room.

Sophie knew that he was close to his peak as his hips began to stutter, his breath becoming short and desperate as if he were grasping for air. Sophie squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the imprints of her approaching climax as well. Sophie pushed against him, slamming her hand on the musky wall; a desperate bid to achieve her own release, but just as she was about to finish, Benedict throbbed inside her with a low and pathetic groan. Leaving her just on the edge. Sophie could feel his deep heavy breaths behind her neck, his heavy weight leaning against her from her back.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as she felt himself soften inside her. She quivered softly as Benedict quickly pulled out, suddenly feeling the coldness of the grey concrete floor on her feet. Tossing the remains in the bin with a practiced hand, Benedict picked up the plastic blue box of baby wipes from the overhead cupboard, passing it to her wordlessly. Sophie bit the corner of her lips, her fingers clenching as she watched Benedict zip himself back in his trousers, fumbling with his black leather belt. Benedict’s ears turned slightly red noticing that she had been staring at him. With a slightly guilty look, he timidly picked up her pajamas from her ankles with two fingers, readjusting her nighttime attire.

“I’ll call you,”

Benedict Bridgeton placed his hand on the doorknob, his right foot already an inch in the hallway, but against her better judgment, against her sanity, Sophie grabbed him by the wrist in the last second.

No, No, No, No. No. No. Terrible idea. Don’t look back. Let him Leave. Walk away. Walk away.

But she wanted him more. She needed him more.

“Stay.”

“Don’t go.”

One of the many wonderful qualities she learned about Benedict Bridgerton was that he was a profound deep sleeper; the complete opposite of herself, the sound of a pin drop could wake Sophie from her shallow sleep. But Benedict Bridgerton could dooze off in the London construction site. The rattling clamor of the morning streets and the ear-splitting sound of her alarm clock weren’t loud enough to wake him from his slumber. But if there was one thing that woke him from his dream, it was when Sophie tried to slip away from his embrace, trying to crawl out of the sheets of her own bed.

“Don’t go, yet,” With his eyes still closed, Benedict would tighten his arms around Sophie’s waist, and she would feel his nose nuzzling her neck. “Just five more minutes, darling.”

“I have to go to work, Ben.” Sophie tried to distract herself from Benedict’s hands which were starting to wander to her very weak places, his hand sliding to cup her breasts. Sophie whimpered as his thumb softly rubbed her nipples, her breath hitched as his other hand teased her folds, gently caressing the center of her pleasure. “Benny, stop. I’m not self-employed like you…”

“But you’re so ready for me,”

Sophie gasped when he dipped his finger into her core, already wet and flooding, as he curled his finger against her most sensitive places. Sophie gripped her cotton sheets, trying to find some release from his agonizing touch.

“Stay.” Benedict purred, deepening his movements from the back, adding another finger, knowing the exact places that would melt her into a puddle, “Come home with me, Sophie.”

But his raspy whispers turned into a pathetic groan as Sophie gave a playful nudge to his heated manhood, just slipping away from his embrace in a brief second. Benedict stared shamelessly at her slender body from the bedsheets, the soft morning light giving a glow to her soft bare skin. Benedict could see the red marks he had left on her skin, a small bite mark on her delicate shoulders, the place he had buried his teeth in. His cock twitched, yet again. But her marks (Or was it his marks?) were quickly hidden as Sophie slipped into an oversized t-shirt, the length just enough to cover her lovely rear. It was his worn-out Star Wars T-shirt, he noticed, the one he had left in her room three months ago. He had stumbled into her flat after a three-week trip to Paris Fashion Week, diving into her bed right from Heathrow airport.

“Can’t you model for me, Sophie?” Benedict asked as Sophie picked up his navy Dior suit from the floor, hanging the jacket on the window rails, and folded his trousers neatly on the chair next to the bed.

“Don’t you have other boys who would do that for you?” Sophie only returned a wry smile, softly shaking her head. Benedict watched as she placed her keys next to the 50-pound note now soothed out on the table.

Keys in the post, don’t forget again, Benedict could almost hear Sophie’s voice in his head.

“Fine, forget about the model. But aren’t you going to help me with this?”

Benedict tore off the sheets, exposing his morning glory in the sunlight.Taking his hardness in his hands, he plumped it several times, grinning as he saw Sophie lick her lips ever so slightly. His load was already leaking, and Benedict was hoping to fill her again, but it would be more lovely to have her lips around his, dipping a thumb in her mouth as she looked up at him with her watery eyes…

“Tempting, but no.” Sophie chuckled, throwing her pair of white lace knickers on the bed, “You’re a big boy, Benny. You can take care of yourself,”

Benedict groaned as Sophie disappeared into the shower. With a pair of knickers in one hand and his gleaming cock in the other, Benedict contemplated for a second, but he dropped everything, rushing after to squeeze himself into Sophie’s tiny bathtub.

-------------------------------------------

The unnameable relationship with the up-coming artist Benedict Bridgerton had started almost a year ago, on the day of the Halloween Party hosted by Hasting&Co. She had tagged along with her colleague Eloise Bridgerton, who disappeared in the crowd right after they arrived at the venue. The flashing neon lights, the banging music overhead, the three delicious glasses of champagne, Sophie was enjoying herself so much so that she didn’t care she didn’t know the name of the beautifully handsome man who led her to the dance floor; she didn’t mind when he casually slipped his hands on her waist, or when he gently grinded his hips against hers, or even when his hands cupped her arse over her silver mini-dress. She was even stupid enough to lead him to her shitty one-room apartment, the one just above the Vietnamese restaurant. Too hazy, too impatient to even turn on the lights, the two bodies stumbled onto the mattresses; her old wooden bed frame giving an eerie creak all throughout the night. He had given her the best three orgasms of her life and fucked her senseless that she passed out in his arms, and for the first time in her life, she truly slept deeply, without any disruption at all.

When Sophie ran her fingers across his hair, his soft brown curls looking almost reddish in the warm morning sunlight; that was the moment she realized that the man snoring happily in her bed was the Benedict Bridgerton; the man she had seen in the posts of Whistledown number of times. She did panic, dropping flat on her face from her bed, knocking her forehead on the floor, but it was him who carried her back onto the mattress, sinking her into the sheets yet again. For the next four days, Benedict didn’t even leave her room; luring her in bed every time she got home from work.

“What are we, exactly?” It was the question she should have asked on that very morning, but Sophie was too focused on the sweet sensation Benedict was giving to her, his fingers exploring every bit of her body.

It didn’t take such a long time to realize that Benedict Bridgerton wasn’t exactly, exclusive.

The first time, it was two days after Benedict finally left her flat, (He was in dying need of fresh clothes) Sophie braved the courage to call him, wanting to ask him if he wanted to stop by for some chicken noodle soup.

“Wouldn’t you like a sip?” Sophie nervously repeated those words as she listened to the waiting call. She finally heard a click on the other end, but it was the voice of a woman who had answered, not the rich deep voice of Benedict Bridgerton.

“He’s in the shower now,” Her London cockney accent sounded oddly hoarse and amorous, “I can take your message if you want,” It would have been much easier for Sophie if her words had some malice, but her tone was sweet and gentle, almost soothing as if she had sensed her panic on the other end. Benedict had banged on her door at midnight the very day, leaving her no choice but to open her door, giving him the chance to kiss her senselessly, making her forget all the anger and the sadness that battered her soul.

“I don’t do relationships,” Benedict had guiltily admitted over their morning cup of Earl Grey. “I’ll leave if you want, I really don’t mind if you don’t want any of this,”

Come to think of it, that was the moment Sophie should have walked away. But instead, she had grabbed him by the collar and took her lips to his, slightly tiptoeing to reach the corner of his mouth.

“Stay.” She had murmured on his lips. “Don’t go,”

The second time, was the day of her father’s funeral. It was the third day of December, and Sophie could still feel the shivering wind as she rushed to the chapel, the place she managed to find after intense research on Social Media. But Sophie was kicked out the moment she reached the entrance, her stepmother shrieking and screaming something about fucking bastards and shame to the family name. Still shaken from Aramita’s shrieks or the devastating fact that she would never see her father’s face ever again, Sophie found herself standing on the doorsteps of Benedict’s art studio. With shaking hands, she rang the doorbell, and a beautiful handsome man with soft brown curls appeared at the door. Only dressed in grey sweatpants, he did look puzzled for a second seeing a girl all in black with a bouquet of lilies in her hands, but he seemed to notice her, greeting her with a smile.

“Please, call me Henry,” he introduced himself as he led her to the spacious sitting room, “It’s an honor to meet the muse in person finally,”

But Sophie noticed the panic on Benedict’s face as he appeared in the room, wrapped in a silk green robe. Through the crack of the door, she could see three bare shoulders laid across the bed. Their legs tangling on the white covers.

“You never told me that your new muse would be joining us, Bridgerton,” Henry had smiled over his cup of tea, “I’m sure the others would be delighted as well…”

“Oh. Um. I’m not. I’m just.”

“Henry, she’s not,”

“Not the sharing kind is she?” Henry broke out in an enigmatic smile, “It’s never too late to explore new territories…”

But before Henry could finish his sentence, Sophie had stumbled out from her seat, hastily mumbling something about work and errands. As she sprinted across the rainy streets of London, Benedict had caught her in the wrist, just at the start of the street crossing, grabbing her in a tight grip.

“I can’t just leave you all alone, Sophie,”

Benedict had helped her back to her apartment, and for the first time in the relationship, Benedict only cuddled her on the battered mattress, holding her tight as she sobbed in his arms.

The third time was at the Christmas Party at the London Arts Gallery. Sophie had been given a chance to write an article for the arts division, and she had been running around the venue with a notebook, a camera, and a voice recorder in her hands. Sophie almost dropped her camera when she saw Benedict Bridgerton walz into the gallery with a glamorous lady in his arms, a slightly older lady with gorgeous blond locks dressed in a Chanel vintage dress.

“That’s Lady Tilley Arnold.” A chatty gentleman had whispered to her excitedly seeing how Sophie just stood there with her mouth hanging open. “A patron to a number of up-coming artist in London you see, the London arts scene is entirely based on by her financial sponsorship…”

But, it wasn’t how Benedict kissed Lady Tilley passionately in the lips or how the two danced together beautifully on the dance floor that brought her in shambles. It was when his green eyes met hers, and gave her a casual smile and a little wave. Not even a flinch.

At that moment, Sophie realized that Benedict Bridgerton thought nothing about her.

It was his charm. His smiles. His lovey-dovey eyes. His witty, sarcastic quips. As she observed him from the corner of the gallery, Sophie noticed that he chronically flirted with every single person he passed by, igniting sexual tension in every single conversation.

And Sophie was finally aware of the fact that she was just one of the long list of lovers in Benedict Bridgerton’s life. After the third, Sophie stopped counting, and after three months, Sophie Beckett embraced the term “friends with benefits ” all in one hand. After all, it was nice to have a comfortable warmth in bed, wasn’t it?

Sophie could never reject him when he gave a call at 11:30 in the night, often showing up drunk and wasted, with a faint smell of whiskey and weed, because he gave her what she always craved, a little bit of love and every bit of warmth.

But what further sank her into inner turmoil was when Benedict sometimes gave her more than a little bit of love.

Sometimes, Benedict would stay in her shabby studio apartment for a whole day, preparing a beautiful hand-cooked dinner on the table, after Sophie came home tired and exhausted from work.

“You told me like you like Bolognese,” Benedict would laugh wholeheartedly as Sophie took another helping of the gorgeous tomato sauce.

“Benedict, this is absolutely gorgeous.”

Sometimes, Benedict would come with a bouquet of flowers in her hands, filling the room with the smell of wildflowers and Lilly of the Valleys. Sometimes it would be lilacs, tulips, roses, and hyacinths.

Every once in a while, Benedict would wake up earlier than Sophie, (when she was too exhausted from Benedict’s relentless pursuits) and a perfect morning table would be set before her eyes; the tiny surface filled with tea and omelets, croissants, and fresh strawberries. And Benedict would send her off to work with a gentle kiss.

Then, he wouldn’t contact her for weeks. Sophie would only read the scandalous headlines and see his charming eyes from the Whistledown Gossip posts, often along with beautiful models and actors.

Then, Benedict would call her at 11:30 in the evening, telling her that he would be there in five. Just only to fuck her. And she would let him.

“Are you okay, Sophie?”

Sophie broke from her daze, her stepsister was looking at her worryingly, Posy’s soft hands gently pulling Sophie back to a beautiful summer day in St. James Park. Sophie had forgotten for a second that she had been on an outdoor picnic on her day off; with Posy and her newborn baby, Sophia.

“I’m all right,”

Sophie answered with a smile, cradling her baby in her arms. Little Sophia let out a small giggle as Sophie nuzzled her soft skin with her nose.

“She’s looking more and more like you every time I meet her,”

“Sophie, please don’t change the subject,” Posy grabbed her lightly in the wrist. “It’s not Phillip Cavender, is it?”

“It’s not him, Posy. You know he’s not allowed to contact me…”

“Then why do you have a bruise on your neck?”

Damn. Sophie knew that she should have worn a scarf or a turtle neck, but it was just too hot, and Sophie had tried to cover it up with more puffs and foundations. But of course, Posy would notice, and with Posy’s patient coaxing and her peanut butter sandwich, Sophie ended up spilling out every story she had kept inside herself.

Posy listened to her whole story in silence, but her blue eyes widened and widened as she continued the whole story of her complicated relationship with Benedict Bridgerton.

“Sophie, why are you doing this to yourself?”

“I’m all right, Posy.”

“Sophie Beckett, look me in the eye and tell me that you are completely okay.” Posy tugged on her white shirt, nudging Sophie to turn her head.

“Posy,”

“Look me in the eyes, Sophie.”

“….It’s not like he physically punches me or anything,”

“Oh, Sophie.”

“He doesn’t kick me in the stomach when I can’t wake up from period cramps,”

“Sophie,”

“He cooks chicken soup for me, Posy,” Sophie felt tears coming up to her eyes as she continued her words, “Telling me that it would warm me up,”

“Sophie, Sophie, Sophie.”

Posy rubbed her shoulders as Sophie broke down in sobs, perhaps for the first time Posy had seen her in years. Posy took her towel handkerchiefs from her backpack, Sophie accepting it in quivering hands. Posy reached out her arms and took Sophie into a tight embrace.

“I understand that he’s kind and sweet to you, Sophie.” Posy gently said, “But you deserve much much more Sophie. You say that you are all right about the relationship, but it’s hurting you, Sophie. I can see it in your eyes,”

Sophie couldn’t quite reply, overwhelmed with tears and sobs. It took her more than a minute to calm herself down, trying to take deep breaths.

“I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself,” Sophie found herself saying her voice shaking and quivering, “why I keep choosing people who treat me like absolute shit, who treat me like some kind of a toy…”

“We accept the love we think we deserve.” Posy quietly said. “Have you ever watched The Perks of Being a Wallflower?”

“No,”

“When I heard this line in that movie, it opened my mind, Sophie. You remember how Mother and Rosamund treated us.”

Sophie nodded.

“Brush your hair, stop slouching, and pick up your feet, the dress looks terrible on you. Too fat, too chubby. I stopped eating, and then it would be too skinny, too bony….I hated myself, Sophie. I would have killed myself if you weren’t there for me, Sophie.”

Sophie gently took her sister’s hand, rubbing the soft palm. Their childhood memories were still fresh and painful, she knew how they both struggled to even talk about them.

“But when I left home, I noticed that I wasn’t ugly or unattractive as I believed myself to be, and I…I actually liked myself, more than I had ever imagined.”

“You’re beautiful, Posy.”

Posy smiled, tilting her head to Sophie’s shoulders.

“And then I met Hugh, and he has given me so much love that I never thought I would experience. And I’ve never felt so happier than any moment of my life.” Posy stroked her baby’s hair, the same anglic curls as Hugh’s. “And you deserve to be happy too, Sophie. I just want you to be happier,”

The scenery in front of Sophie suddenly became misty yet again.

“You are the most beautiful, and the kindest person that I have ever met, Sophie,” Posy looked into her eyes, and Sophie could feel tears running down her cheeks, “Do you know why I named my daughter after you? I wanted her to be a kind, compassionate soul, just like you.”

“You need to take care of yourself more, Sophie. Because You deserve much much more,”

Sophie let herself cry in her sister’s arms again, sobbing, sobbing, sobbing away about everything, everything, and everything.

---------------------------------------------

Benedict tapped on the door at 11:35, it was close to midnight, but he knew that Sophie would be awake. She hadn’t answered his call, but he knew she would be there; perhaps curled up in the bed with a novel in hand.

Benedict kept taping, kept taping, and kept taping, but there was no answer. He was gradually becoming impatient, his knocks changing into slams and bangs; his knuckles becoming more crimson every second.

“KEEP IT DOWN, will’ ya?”

A man in a shabby robe appeared from the other side of the hallway, rubbing his red swollen eyes. Benedict took a step back seeing a baseball bat in his right hand, a slight panic creeping up to his spine.

“I’m incredibly sorry to disturb you so late at night,” He sputtered, fidgeting his hands nervously, “I was trying to contact a friend, and I was worried because she wasn’t answering my calls or anything…”

“You’re the boyfriend?”

“Pardon?”

“Small, green eyes, curly hair?”

“Yes, yes.” He gritted his teeth. God, the man was telling him nothing, couldn’t he tell that he was worried about her? “My girlfriend might be unconscious inside here, would you mind contacting the landlord for me…”

“Get out.”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me, get the fuck out of this building.”

“But,”

“GET OUT!”

Benedict was chased down the stairs of the apartment, the man violently waving the metal baseball bat at him. He was lucky that he wasn’t hurt at all, but the disdain in the man’s eyes made him shudder. He didn’t see him as a stalker did he? He was just there because he was worried, it wasn’t as if he was chasing her down or anything….

Benedict again visited her apartment the next morning, carefully avoiding the man in the robe, but there was no answer. Benedict spent the whole day on the window table of the Vietnamese restaurant, ordering something off the menu every hour, (He called Colin for endorsement, and he happily ate away seven Goi cuons, a plate of Banh Khots, and two helpings of seafood Pho.) Benedict stayed there until the Waiter tapped him on the shoulder, telling him it was time to close shop.

“Do you happen to know Ms. Beckett?” Benedict asked the waitress in the cashier, knowing that it was a useless endeavor. And just as he thought, the woman only returned a puzzled look.

“Um, she’s about this high, green eyes, beautiful curls? Named Sophie Beckett?”

“Oh, Sophie!”

Benedict felt his heart leap as the Waitress’s lips widened in a smile, “Such a precious girl, isn’t she? She would always help me out with the cleaning on Friday nights…”

“She still lives upstairs, doesn’t she?”

“Haven’t you heard?” The Waitress tilted her head, “She moved out several weeks ago, said something about moving in with her stepsister or something…”

“Oh,”

“Pity, isn’t it?” The waitress continued, “Not only did we lose a precious customer, we lost a tutor for my boy, she was looking after SAT studies every Sunday…”

“Why are you so obsessed with her?” Colin asked while munching on some leftover Banh mi, as the two walked down the streets of London. Colin had been crashing on the couch of Benedict’s Georgian Townhouse, a three-week stay between his travels. Benedict ignored his question, not in the mood to respond to his brother’s inquiry. After all, he had been completely rejected by Sophie Beckett. “Never seen you chase after one girl, brother. I thought she was just one of your girls.”

Benedict sighed. Colin’s words were true; Sophie Beckett was just one of the names he would call when he needed a quick lay. But she was different; he had to admit, he didn’t have to care about being witty or debonair in front of her, he could drop his so-called “charismatic” artistic persona. She didn’t seem to mind even if he was drunk or miserable or entirely messed up; Any state he was, she would welcome him with open arms.

Deep in his heart, he knew he was taking advantage of her fathomless kindness. He also knew she wanted more from him; a committed relationship, a monogamy. But he had lived the majority of his adulthood wandering around in countless beds, and he didn’t exactly want to change his hedonic habits for just one simple girl.

“I understand,” Sophie had smiled over her morning cup of Earl Grey, but he had noticed that her fingers flinched for just a second, “I’ve seen too many broken relationships, too.” and Benedict didn’t dare to say that was not the reason.

Once, he had seen his rose bouquet abandoned in the outside bin. Just when he had stepped outside for a smoke, at the backdoor of the Vietnamese restaurant. The red petals crumbled with leftovers and paper napkins, the one he had given two nights before.

But she never scolded him for sleeping around, never rejected him when he tapped on her door. Taking in all the irritation, the insecurities, or the stress he thrust inside her.

Just one simple girl. Wasn’t that what she was?

“I have to find her, Colin.”

But she’s just a simple girl,

“I need her, Colin,”

But she’s just a girl,

But Sophie Beckett was always there for him, as if she were made for him; accepting him for as he truly was. Giving him comfort, the love, giving herself, no matter what. But what had he done in return? Some flowers, some handmade dishes? Hasn’t he exploited her to the limit?

“You’ve been doing very well, Mr. Bridgerton.” His physiologist had a surprised look at his last appointment, “A whole year off from drugs; astonishing achievement…”

It was because of her. She had been his medicine, his remedy, his pills.

“Bro, shouldn’t you take no as a no?”

“Yes, no, yes.” Benedict stuttered, “But, god, I owe her thousands of apologies,”

“If you are so desperate to find her, why don’t you contact the stepsister? If you cut off the other ladies and beg on your knees, she might change her mind,”

“I didn’t know that she had a step-sister,”

“That is a terrible red flag, Brother.” Colin scrunched his nose. “Where is she from? Maybe she’s back at her hometown…”

“She’s from the countryside,”

“AND THAT’S THE ONLY THING YOU KNOW?” Colin dropped the half-eaten Banh mi on the pavement. “God, I knew you like to keep it casual, but I didn’t know that you were that casual,”

“Well, I know her favorite color is green and she loves Lilly of the Vallys…”

“And is that information going to help you find her?”

“…No.” Benedict couldn’t quite look into his brother’s eyes.

“Perhaps you could contact her workplace. Where did she say that she worked?”

“She works as a junior editor,”

“At where?”

“I actually don’t know.”

Colin smacked him in the head.

------------------------------------------

Sophie walked through the art gallery, carefully stopping at each picture, and observing the intricate details of each color and strokes. Ever since she moved to Wilshire and got a job in the local bookstore, it became a regular habit to visit every once in a while for the new exhibition. She found it soothing, walking in silence all alone, exploring the places each piece took her; almost as if she were navigating through the minds of other hundreds of people.

But Sophie stopped, or quite frankly, she had to stop.

It’s not every day you see a painting of yourself, is it?

It was a portrait of her, an oil painting of about a notebook size. She recognized her blond curls, her green eyes, but it was the clothes the girl was wearing that first caught her eyes; the worned out Stars Wars T-shirt she threw out in the bin two years ago.

She didn’t know how long she had been standing in front of the portrait. But she couldn’t help noticing how he managed to capture every bit of her in one painting, her messy morning curls, her scruched eyebrows, every curve of her body…

As she glanced at the description on the left corner, Sophie stopped breathing, the heat coming up to her cheeks,

Benedict Bridgerton; Love on my Life;

“Sophie?”

Sophie recognized his deep, soft voice, but she didn’t dare to look back. Even after two years, his voice didn’t fail to make her knees feel weak, bringing the same shivers she felt every time he called him. His sweet lips on hers. His hands everywhere.

Same, same, same, all over again.

Sophie knew that if she looked back, she would fall in love all over again, repeat the same mistakes, two years of intense therapy all in waste. Sophie closed to eyes, but she could hear his footsteps approaching, gradually, but hesitantly. Sandalwood and soap, she recognized, but she noticed the absence of the alcohol and cigarettes. But still, she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes.

But her heart leaped, and her stomach fluttered with just his presence, just like when they first met.

“Give me one more chance, Sophie,”

“Give me a chance to love you again,”

#writer's notes

"We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist,"

[bellysoupset]

omg i have an idea feel free to regard or disregard

what if jonah and angie get into a fight and it’s the first REAL fight they’ve had bc before she was kinda too young to actually engage in any kind of actual fighting.

but it truly throws jonah WAY off his game (cue the nervous stomach) he’s moody and upset and distancing himself from the group.

when leo finally manages to shake the truth from him he kinda breaks down and tells him that he thinks he drover her off and she isn’t gonna want to speak to him anymore.

- 🧝‍♂️

Alright, alright, alright. I was so excited about this request, I changed the order of my WIPs. Basically, you requested exactly what would catapult the Angie&Jonah plot I had been thinking of since last year.

I hope you like it!

-------------------------------

Leo was deep in the throes of sleep, curled up under two different blankets and with JD purring against his stomach. He had never been so comfy.

So when he heard the front door shutting with a loud noise, Leo only groaned and curled his arm tighter around his cat, refusing to deal with whatever issue it was. Somewhere in the recess of his mind, he could hear a whisper fight down the hallway and then Jonah saying, far too loud for how late it was, "I'm not gonna even answer that, Angelina. We'll talk in the morning."

More whispers, so Leo let out a sigh and opened his eyes, refusing to move. JD had crawled inside his hoodie's front pocket, only her head was poking out. He lazily scratched her behind her ear, turning slightly on the bed and rubbing his eye with his opposite hand.

"Don't bother," Angie's voice, louder than Leo expected it. Normally she was incredibly conscious of not bothering others. Leo dizzily reached for his phone, squinting at the clock. 12:30 AM. Terribly late for them to be just arriving, they were only supposed to go out for a movie.

JD meowed, crawling out of her hiding place in his pocket and nuzzling her head against his chin, before jumping from the bed and slipping out of the bedroom the minute Jonah harshly opened the door.

Leo pushed himself up against the pillows, yawning, "what's going on...?"

"Not now," Jonah's voice was like a whip and he shut the door with more force than necessary, marching to the bathroom. He slammed that door shut as well and Leo raised his eyebrows at the display, but didn't bother getting up; By now he knew that trying to get through Jon when he was in such an awful mood was a terrible idea.

Leo stretched, checking his alarm and then stripped down his hoodie, rolling on the bed and pressing his face to the pillow. He was just about to fall back asleep, lullabied by the sound of the shower running, when the bathroom door opened once again, this time much quieter. 

He didn't bother speaking up, hearing Jonah walk around softly in order not to wake him up, changing into his silk pajama pants and then slipping under the blankets.

Leo turned his head in Jonah's direction, then reached out clumsily, grabbing his hand, "Jon?"

"No," Jonah squeezed his hand, before pulling back as if it burned him, "not tonight."

"Jonah-"

"No, Leo," Jon scoffed, turning his back to Leo. He saw the other man's shoulders go up with a deep breath, but they didn't come down, nerves wound up tight.

"Okay," Leo sighed, scooting closer and going to cuddle him, but Jonah flinched away, "Jon-"

"Please, just leave me alone," Jonah groaned, voice all rough and weird. Speaking with a knot in his throat.

Leo pouted, but nodded in the dark, squeezing his boyfriend's bicep, "Goodnight."

He turned back around hugging his pillow and Leo was still awake, nearly an hour later, when he heard Jonah's breathing slow down, finally getting pulled under by exhaustion.

Four out of the five working days of their week, Leo got up first. Since it was Wednesday, he went in at 8:00 AM and was up at 7:00 AM, as usual. Except Jonah wasn't in bed.

The day was already shaping up to be a weird, stressful one.

Leo stumbled into the bathroom, noticing the mirror was fogged up and there was the smell of mint, indicating Jonah wasn't just up and sulking somewhere, but actually ready for his day.

However, when he got out of the bedroom, now finishing up buttoning up his shirt and ready for a tall mug of coffee, there was no sign of Jon... And the guestroom door was open. The bed was made. Angie's toiletries bag was gone from the dresser.

Leo's heart sunk to his stomach and he looked around the kitchen, in search of something. There was a note under his coffee mug, but the handwriting was all round and delicate, nothing like Jon's left leaning, fancy one.

Sorry I didn't say goodbye! Things got weird. Take care. XOXO, Ange.

Fuck.

Leo raised his eyebrows, folding the note and slipping it in his pocket, before running back to the bedroom to retrieve his cellphone and check if there were any messages from Jonah or Angie, but there was nothing. Radio silence.

He called and called, then waited until he was pretty much late for work. However, Jonah didn't pick and neither did Angie, so Leo had no option but to go to his job, concerned out of his mind.

Around 1 PM, when he finally got his lunch break, there was a text message on his phone.

Wicked-Witch-Of-The-West: Call me when you're free. Important.

Leo rolled his eyes at Wendy's matter of fact text, calling as he waited in line for his subway order. It rang only twice before she picked up.

"Hi," she sounded breathless and didn't wait for an answer, "Jon's in a bad shape. Do you want me to drive him home or should I call a cab or can you-"

"Bad shape?" Leo frowned, handing the cashier his credit card and retrieving his sandwich, "meaning?"

"Meaning he's laid out in the doctor's quarters and he's puked twice already. He wanted to keep working but Stewarts kicked his ass and said he should go home instead of spreading germs everywhere..." Wendy hesitated, "he says he's not sick and I think I believe him, but I have no idea what's going and he won't tell me and he sorta yelled at me and I told him to drown in the toilet so now I can't- I mean, I can, I absolutely can drag his ass home, I just-"

"Wendy," Leo interrupted her, snorting at the mental image, "I'm on my way. It's my idiot, I can handle him."

"Right," Wendy didn't sound very sure, but Leo ignored her tone, "should I tell him...?"

"No, just give me clearance to go to the doctor's quarters. I think the security is going to have my head if I barge in again."

"Okay, okay. See you soon."

Wendy hadn't been exaggerating, but Leo also didn't expect anything less after the weird morning it had been so far. Jonah was inside the doctor's quarters, sitting in the little brown couch, his head thrown back as he stared at the ceiling, a hand resting on his stomach as if he was contemplating if he was about to puke again or not.

"You look great," Leo said, unable to keep a vestige of bitterness out of his voice. He wasn't angry at Jonah for completely shutting him out last night and all of this morning, but he wasn't happy about it either.

Jonah grimaced as he saw Leo, "Wendy called you."

"Yep," Leo walked further inside, "let's go home?"

"I'm not sick, I can work-"

"Your supervisor kicked you out, Jonah," Leo rolled his eyes, "and honestly, I wouldn't trust you if I was a patient, you're super pale. Let's go home."

Jonah considered it for a second, not moving a muscle and seeming like he was wondering if he should argue, before his shoulders dropped and he nodded. He got up slowly, an arm still wrapped around his stomach, and went to retrieve his stuff out of his designated locker.

They didn't talk at all until they were outside of the hospital, Wendy waving timidly in their direction as they passed by the office where she was just welcoming an elderly patient.

Jonah all but threw his stuff in the backseat of the car, before sighing heavily and resting his forehead to the cool metal. Leo paused, not entering the driver side.

"Jon?"

A sickly little burp answered him and then Jonah spread his legs apart and ducked his head between his arms, bringing up a thin stream of vomit without even retching. 

It wasn't much, but still he stayed in that weird position, breathing heavily. Leo sighed.

"Aww Jonah," he circled the car, planting a hand in his boyfriend's back and rubbing a wide circle, "baby, whatever it is, I promise you it's not as bad as your head is making it seem. Please talk with me...?"

Jonah shook his head, letting out a strangled noise and Leo groaned, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and carefully side stepping the mess on the ground, "are you done?"

"I don't- I don't know..." Jonah stumbled slightly to the right, "my stomach hurts."

"Wendy said you got sick twice already, you're empty, baby," Leo opened the passenger door and pushed Jonah inside, "c'mon, get in."

Leo's heart was in his throat as he drove them home. Jonah being cranky or sullen wasn't new, but him looking this distraught and refusing to talk about it was.  He planted a hand on his boyfriend’s thigh, squeezing it and rubbing up and down.

"You're freaking me out," Leo admitted quietly, "you and Angie had a fight?"

Jonah nodded, hand clutching his belly and folding in half, until his forehead was resting on the dashboard. Leo moved his hand from Jon's thigh, to his back and sped up a little more.

"What about?"

“I fucked up,” Jonah said in the smallest, most heartbroken tone Leo had heard in a long while. He had heard something like that back when they fought on the side of the road and Leo had accused Jonah of cheating completely out of the blue, ruining his proposal, but this time it was different. It wasn’t just angry and sad or offended, it was… Guilty.

“What happened?” Leo pulled the car into the garage of their building and Jonah let out a groan at the movement, opening his door as soon as the car stopped and gagging fruitlessly, but his body had nothing else to eject.

Leo unbuckled his seatbelt, thanking god his car was so old it didn’t have an alarm for that, and got on his knee on the seat, so he could lean over the handbrake and rub Jonah’s back as he continued to dry heave, his stomach long done with his messy breakdown. 

“Jon?” 

“She- She wanted- I told her no and -” Jonah sat up straight, bringing a shaky hand to wipe the drool from his lips and closing his eyes, chest heaving with effort, “fuck, Leo…”

“Start from the beginning, okay?” Leo leaned in, stroking his cheek with his thumb, “you guys went out for dinner and a movie. What happened?”

“She wants to travel before college starts,” Jonah opened his eyes and finally said in a calm, collected voice that didn’t belong to him, “and she wants me to come along.”

Leo frowned, thumb stopping the stroking motion, confusion washing over him, “I’m sorry, uh… What? This is good, right? Travel where-”

“No,” Jonah shook his head, “it’s three months, Leo. She wants me to tag along for three months-”

“I don’t-”

“I said no,” Jon whispered, pressing a fist to his mouth, muffling an airy, sick burp, “I said no right away and she got upset I didn’t even consider it and then we argued and she said I wasn’t- I wasn’t putting in any effort at all and I told her- I called her childish and then this morning she said she wanted to go home and I drove her to the airport at 6 AM and- Fuck, I messed it all up, I don’t- She hasn’t even called me back-” his chest heaved as another retch tore up and Leo grimaced when this one was productive and Jonah dived once more in order to spit up bile and droll outside his door. 

Leo’s ears were ringing as he managed to put together what was going on. He kept a hand on Jonah’s shoulder as he continued to heave, gasping for hair, his whole face getting that tingly sensation it did before a panic attack. 

He forcefully breathed in through his nose, tightening his grip on Jon, “you said no because of me.”

More coughing and Jonah letting out a whimper. 

Leo’s heart started to hammer away, the ringing getting worse. He felt claustrophobic, suddenly wanting to be out of the car, out of the garage, his own mind… 

“Leo?” Jonah sat up straight once more, all clammy and sweaty, looking gray, his hazel eyes pained, “baby?”

“I-I…” Leo pulled back, raising a hand to keep Jonah from touching him or saying anything, “gimme- give me a minute.”

Jon raised his eyebrows, but nodded, and Leo lowered his forehead to the steering wheel, trying to ground himself. He counted to ten, then backwards, taking slow breaths. It was like a waterfall was muffling all noise. Jonah mumbling something in the far distance, underwater. 

“Why did you say no?” Leo asked, refusing to lift up his head and meet his fiance’s eyes.

Jonah let out a scoff, “she can’t just expect me to uproot my whole life to go in a little backpack trip through europe-” 

“Jon.”

“I just proposed to you,” Jonah’s tone got a whiny sound, “I can’t- You wouldn’t- We have a life.”

Leo forced out a breath, squeezing the steering wheel with all his force, until his knuckles turned white, “you didn’t think I’d agree.”

“I knew you wouldn’t,” Jonah rolled his eyes, then frowned when his answer caused Leo to turn to him fast as a snake, looking visibly angry. 

“You couldn’t have known, you didn’t talk with me-”

“Oh shut up, Leo,”’ Jon rubbed at his chest, making a face, “you throw fits over Wendy, why would I think you’d be alright with me leavi- Leo?” he interrupted himself as the blonde swore and got out of the car, slamming the driver’s door shut. 

Leo folded in half, planting his clammy hands to his knees and trying to breathe. He hated that Jonah was right, he had no reason to think Leo would agree with this, since he had done everything to disprove that notion. Leo squeezed his eyes shut, feeling childish and guilty and horrible…

“Leo?” Jonah had shut the car door and was leaning on the trunk, planting a tentative hand on his elbow, “baby?”

“You didn’t ruin it, I- I did,” Leo gasped, flinching away, “that’s why she didn’t bother saying goodbye-”

“She’s seventeen and being ridiculous,” Jonah scoffed, “I have a life, Leo. A full residency happening, a job, a wedding-”

Leo shook his head, “you’d put these things on hold for her,” he half accused. Not out of bitterness, just certainty. Jonah was the type to know exactly what he wanted, always. The only reason for him to be this distraught, was because he knew he wanted to go and had still said no, not out of his own volition, but-

“You’re spiraling,” Jon stepped closer, or rather stumbled, still unsteady on his feet, but worry overriding everything else, “baby, look at me. You’re freaking out-”

“I’m a jealous, possessive prick and you’re ruining a really nice opportunity with your sister because you’re afraid I’ll lash out,” Leo surmised, glaring at him and daring Jonah to contradict him, “and you’re not even wrong, because I probably would have.”

There was a beat. Jon unable to deny something that was the objective truth and Leo scoffing as he realized the bitter reality of his own words. 

“That’s just fucking great,” the blonde said after a minute, stepping closer and leaning on the trunk as well, shoulder to shoulder with his boyfriend. 

Jon turned his head, then sighed and planted his cheek to Leo’s shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not the one who should be apologizing,” Leo intertwined their fingers, rubbing his thumb over Jon’s engagement ring. It was similar to his own, except instead of having a small baguette diamond in the center, it had a bunch of little gems the thickness ridge, “I’m really, really sorry, Jon.” 

“It’s fine-”

“I think you should go,” Leo squeezed his hand, interrupting him, “I know how much you want to be close with your sister and yeah, the idea is a little- A little silly and you do have the residency, and the hospital-”

“And the wedding,” Jonah stressed, squeezing his hand back and Leo shrugged. 

“The wedding isn’t happening in three months, Jon,” he rolled his eyes, “look, I know it’s not a get up and go decision, but I also know you’re the type of guy who could solve all the other variables. So if the only thing holding you back from agreeing is me, don’t. It’s just three months, baby.”

Jonah let out a little bitter chuckle, “and then I come back and you don’t wanna marry me anymore? No way-”

“Don’t be an idiot, that wouldn’t happen,” Leo scoffed and leaned on his fiance’s side, “I love you. I love you so much… It’s just a trip with your sister, it’s not the end of the world. We can wedding plan from a distance-”

“Have you met me?” Jonah whined and Leo opened a smile, letting out a relieved breath.

“I have, yeah,” he jumped up, sitting on the closed trunk, “I know you’ll want to micromanage everything, but I’m sure you can do that from Europe, right? We haven’t even settled on a date yet...”

Or on anything, really. The proposal had been its own thing and Leo was still basking in the fuzzy sensation he felt whenever he looked at his ring, so they were letting it settle in before deciding on the next move. 

Now it seemed they’d need to make up their minds quicker. 

“Okay,” Jonah said quietly, removing his hand from Leo’s hold and wrapping both arms around his stomach, “I… I think I need to call Angie, then.”

“Let her calm down,” Leo grinned, planting a hand on Jon’s nape and squeezing it, pulling him closer so he could kiss his boyfriend’s temple, “she’s a Banks, she’s got a temper just like you do.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Jonah whined, but instead of pulling away, he fully turned and melted into Leo’s arms, hugging him, “I’m so scared I messed it up, Leo…”

“You didn’t, she’s seventeen,” Leo measured his words. He liked Angie and he’d like for Jonah to go on this trip, but that didn’t change that Angelina’s reaction had been of a teenager. A spoiled teenager at that, but he didn’t want to say that out loud, since Jonah and him came from extremely different realities, “she’ll get over it, I promise.” 

Jon mumbled something that he didn’t quite understand, so Leo squeezed him a little tighter and breathed out, looking around the parking lot. They really should go inside, before one of their fancy neighbors caught them wrapped up on each other like that and complained with the management. 

“We should get married in October,” Jon’s voice was muffled by his shoulder, but Leo heard him clearly. 

“Let’s go inside,” he turned his face, pressing his nose to Jonah’s temple and breathing him in, “and you can brush your teeth and get something in your stomach, then we’ll talk.”

“That’s not a no,” Jonah pointed out, not pulling back at all.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Long-time reader, first-time asker. Huge fan of your writing!

If you're still taking requests for the comfort prompts, can I request #18 for Borracho? I love the thought of reader having a terrible string of days at work (maybe they work together and aren't quite yet together) and Borracho (of course) notices and slips her favorite candy bar/treat into her jacket pocket to cheer her up?

Aw, thanks nonnie! Sure thing :D

Warnings: Light angst, tired reader, ends in fluff

It has been a shitty, shitty week.

Your car broke down on Monday. On Tuesday, your date with the guy you were seeing, Ben (his friends often called him Borracho) had been cut short when he'd gotten called into work. On Wednesday, you found out that the repair costs for your car were going to be outrageously high. On Thursday, work had been absolutely slammed—but you'd had a brief bright spot when you managed to see Borracho for dinner between shifts.

Your Friday has, so far, been less than stellar.

You have to take public transportation to work, and to your chagrin, it's insanely delayed. When you finally reach the store that you manage, it's absolutely slammed with customers—and they just keep coming. You can't take your break when you'd like to, and when you finally make it to the break room, you're so exhausted and frustrated that you're on the verge of tears.

You glance at your phone's battery, huffing in annoyance when you find it nearing 5%. You walk over to your jacket, and begin to go through your pockets, looking for your wireless charger. You go still when you feel the wrapper of something crinkle beneath your fingers. You frown, drawing whatever it is out. You're perplexed still as you find yourself looking at your favorite candy bar. What the heck? You don't remember buying this. You spot a little arrow drawn on the corner of the wrapper, and turn it over. Your confusion melts to a watery smile as you eye a hastily scrawled, slightly-smudged message:

Take a deep breath. You got this. -B

You draw in a deep breath, then push it out after a few seconds. You grab your phone charger and plug your phone in, settling down. You open the candy bar, eyes sliding shut and groaning softly as it practically melts in your mouth. You sigh softly, feeling your tension dropping away just a bit more. You open your phone, swiping to Borracho's contact and opening it. Your finger hovers over the text field before you raise it to tap on the call button.

You raise the phone to your ear, listening to the brrrrrrrrrrr of the phone ringing. Frankly, you don't expect him to answer, but you'll be just as happy to leave a voicemail—

"Magalon."

You perk up at the sound of his voice, gruff as it is.

"Hey," You greet, looking down at the candy bar. "Is this a bad time?"

"Ah—No! No."

You can hear the creak of his chair, and the scratch of his pen on the other end of the line before you hear it drop.

"You okay?" He presses. You can't help but smile.

"Better now," You admit, "Since I found the little treat you left for me."

"Oh, yeah?" He chuckles. "Good."

"When did you even put this in my pocket?"

"Grabbed it when I was getting cigarettes last night, put it in your pocket while you were texting."

"You sneaky little so-and-so. This is how you're putting your skills to use?"

"What else am I supposed to do with 'em?"

"Don't let your boss hear your say that."

"Don't worry about that."

You smile, biting your lip.

"Can I see you tonight?" You hedge.

"Course you can. If your car's ready, we can go pick it up."

"You don't have to do that with me."

"I don't mind. Besides, I can check what they did, make sure they're not padding your bill."

Your smile widens as you shift the candy bar in your hand.

"I'd really appreciate that," You agree.

"I'll come pick you up. Your shift's up at six, right?"

"Mhm."

"Alright, I'll wait outside."

"Thanks, Ben."

"You don't have to thank me."

"Yeah, I do, I—" You stop yourself, feeling your emotions swelling again. "I appreciate it."

"...I know," He murmurs. You close your eyes, pulling another deep breath in.

"I'll see you tonight."

"Yeah, you will. Try to take the rest of your shift easy, baby."

Baby. It's a first from him, and it makes you flustered and warm.

"Don't work yourself too hard either," You urge.

"I won't."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

You draw the phone away from your phone, eyeing the contact again. Baby. That felt nice. Sounded good, too, especially coming from him. You raise your candy bar, taking another bite as you hit the edit button on his contact information. You consider for a moment before you tap on his name, edit it, then hit save.

Ben💖

[dragonfries12]

Party Beetle Fanfic - Part 2

Blue text is italics, red text is Folly being creepy (bold).

As their lips met, the world melted away. Pest hardly noticed Poob’s hand grab his sleeve, and was even less aware of his own hand sliding around their waist. In that moment there was no dream parasite, or headaches, or anger, just Poob’s hoodie in his hands and the taste of sugar cookies on his lips.

After what could’ve been only seconds or perhaps an eternity, Pest finally let go and opened his eyes. They widened in horror as realisation sank into his stomach, cold and hard.

“I- I have to go.” Pest turned and ran for the regretevator.

“Pest! Wait!”

He ignored Poob’s call as he slammed his fist against the elevator button and yanked on his shoes. The moment the doors slid open he shot into the elevator and rapidly pressed the ‘close doors’ button multiple times.

“Pest, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” Poob’s words were cut off as the doors clicked shut.

Pest shrank down to the floor, burying his head in his hands. What’s wrong with me? What the hell did I just do? I must have brain damage or something. I have to call Dr. Retro. Desperately searching his pockets, he managed to find a single crumpled regretevator ticket. He quickly flattened it out and slipped it into the ticket slot. He punched in the floor number for the subway and waited impatiently for the elevator to take him home.

Once the elevator arrived, Pest raced down the tunnel and barreled into his room. He shakily dialled Dr. Retro’s number on his phone and waited. Please pick up, please, please-

“Hello?”

“Dr. Retro!”

“Pest? Is that you, sugar?”

“Yes! Yes, I need you to come to the subway right now, I think I have a concussion or something.”

“Oh dear, I’m on my way.”

Pest hung up the phone and began to pace around the room. It had to be the head injury, it had to. Why else would he kiss the person he hated more than anyone. Almost anyone, he thought, recalling last night’s encounter. Something had to be wrong with him.

Realising Dr. Retro had no idea where he lived, Pest hurried back to the platform. He found her peering around just outside the elevator, laser gun in paw.

“Pest! There you are! What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter, can you just fix whatever’s wrong with my head?”

“Well, I’ll have to see if there’s anything wrong in the first place.” Gently, she sat him down on a bench and began to inspect him for signs of a concussion. After that, she peeled off his bandage and eyed the wound. “It looks like you’re alright. I’ll just laser this and you’re good to go.”

“Wait, so there’s nothing wrong with my head?” Pest asked as she carefully zapped away his injury, “No concussion? No brain damage? Nothing?”

“Fortunately,” she said, “Just take it easy for the next few days and call me if anything seems off, alright?”

Pest hardly heard her. Nothing was wrong with his head. Nothing was wrong with him.

“Take care, sugar,” Dr. Retro called as she disappeared back into the regretevator. Pest slowly trudged back to his home. She had to be wrong. Never in his right mind would he do something like that. In my mind. . .her. He rushed into his kitchen and wrenched open the cupboards until he found a bottle of melatonin gummies. Downing a handful, he crawled into bed and squeezed his eyes shut.

Gradually, sleep claimed him, and he was in the ominous void once again. Echoing laughter greeted him and he whipped around to face the giant red eye above him.

“I thought I might see you again,” Folly said.

“You! What the hell did you do to me?!” He roared.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Don’t fuck with me, I know you had something to do with this! You messed with my head last night! What did you do?”

“I’m only an observer, bug. I have no power over your mind in the waking world.”

He stepped back, anger dissolving into fear, “No, no, you’re lying.”

“The truth hurts more than any lie ever could, Pest.”

Pest shot awake in a cold sweat, laughter still lingering in his head. She wasn’t lying; he could tell. He didn’t have a concussion. He wasn’t manipulated. It must’ve been the medication, he told himself. He couldn’t believe that he’d do any such thing with a clear mind. He wouldn’t believe it.

* * *

Pest winced as his stomach growled. He’d been holed up in his home for 4 days since that night at Poob’s house. Eventually, he’d inevitably run out of food and was now forced to find something to steal. Thankfully, the elevator was empty. He didn’t want to deal with conversation right now, especially since he had no tickets, so he’d have to wait until the elevator stopped at a shop naturally.

The regretevator groaned to a halt and the doors glided open with a ding. Pest glanced at the exit to see what floor it had stopped at and his heart sank. Standing just outside the elevator was the unmistakable form of Poob, gift box in hand. Pest snapped his gaze away as they entered the elevator. It doesn't matter, it didn’t mean anything. Just a stupid decision made from medication-induced delirium.

“Pest, I’m really sorry about-”

“Don’t,” Pest cut them off before they could finish, “I don’t want to talk to you.”

He saw them deflate a little in his peripheral view.

“Okay.”

They stood in silence as the elevator made a few more stops. Part of Pest wanted to yell at Poob — put the blame on them somehow — but he knew he couldn’t. Medicated or not, it was Pest who’d approached Poob. It was him who’d grabbed their hoodie. It was him who pulled them in and- Don’t go there.

Pest chanced a glance back at Poob. They were fiddling with the ribbon on their present, looking dejected. Maybe he shouldn’t be so cruel, they did save him from bleeding out in the subway. So? I don’t owe them anything, he thought bitterly, they need to get over whatever mushy feelings they have and move on.

Pest returned to staring at the wall until the regretevator finally stopped at a grocery store. As he slipped between the aisles, quickly pocketing some snacks and microwave dinners, he felt himself relax a bit. It felt good to be doing something so normal to him. He slid back into the elevator just before it closed. He was acutely aware that Poob was staring at his bulging pockets. Why do I care? When have I ever cared?

“Um, the Friendship Party is this weekend,” Poob said.

Pest forced himself to look at them, “And?”

“Are you gonna come?”

Pest realised he didn’t actually have an answer. The Friendship Party was a celebration Poob had invented as yet another excuse to party, but it wasn’t like any other occasion. Everyone showed up, Pest included, for a night of snacks, games, dancing, and often some drunken shenanigans. He usually went for the food and the opportunity to win bets on party games. He simply tolerated Poob’s existence before, but now it was different.

Pest decided on a shrug as his answer.

“Okay. This is my stop,” Poob said, “See you there. Maybe.”

Maybe.

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