#however all hope is gone & i are exes again so i simply have to pretend idgaf about dead memories. when i do. but i dont

[vanweezer]

give me three (3) slipknot songs to listen to

none of them. RUN! FAST & FAR!

jk i actually love recommending my fwends 'knot songs so for YOUUU darling kale i will recommend these

snap (demo) - this song i have to be careful around if i play it once i will play it for the entire day. thats just how my brain works. i like corey's pitchy vocals towards the end i think them keeping that in is very endearing

everything ends - i remember there being a review of iowa that said something like "[the album] may even restore your faith in the world" which idk if thats 1:1 true BUT whenever i listen to this song i think about that review because yup yes exactly

vermilion - guitar solo

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

i have a mad thomas x reader request where reader is forced to marry thomas (idk how just-) and is disgusted about it but eventually ends up liking him.(? idk how to explain myself:’)

No one look at me,,,,,,,,,,also this is heavily inspired by the Scarlet Letter and was supposed to be a tad darker but I copped out (also someone asked for a pregnant reader recently so this + that = this fic)

A Lie They Would Believe (Mad Thomas x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: dark themes, 1600 standards, values, and laws, affairs/cheating, ex-relationship with the pastor is mentioned, Thomas is Thomas, mentions of drinking, webs of lies, public humiliation, AFAB and Fem reader, pregnant reader, pre-marital pregnancy solved a la shotgun marriage, twisted win-win situation turns into love?, slow burn(?),

Word Count: 3.7k

You could accept your punishment with a turned cheek, you told yourself over and over again.

You could stare out at the audience of towns people, even as the sun beat on your face. You could stare out into the angry faces of the elders, into the pitying faces of your friends. Into the ashamed faces of your parents. But, you could not look at Cyrus Miller.

You'd missed your blood two months ago. You'd begged, prayed, everyday that it would come. But, the only thing that came was the morning sickness. You'd tried to hide it, tried to think of what to do. But, when you placed your hand over your stomach, you couldn't bring yourself to find the hag in the forest. And, when your mother held your spotless, white sheets in your face, you'd crumbled. You confessed in the privacy of your room as if you were confessing in church. You told her everything.

Well, almost.

"Tell us his name!" Cyrus said, a voice that you couldn't force to fall into the background. "Tell us the name of your accomplice and you shall suffer no more." He said, and you wanted to believe him. You let your eyes close for a moment, but your lips did not move. Your mouth did not open. "Tell us the father's name, so that your baby will not be born a bastard!" He said, and his hand reached out to grab your arm. His grip was strong and tight, unlike the caresses you'd become so accustomed to with him. While his words begged you to say the name, his name, the action spoke differently. You peeled open your eyes and looked up at him, at his raven hair and kind face. His dark, soft eyes. Tears pricked the corners of your own eyes, hard and glassy as you looked up at him. But, you were silent. Even as some of the townspeople yelled for you to confess.

But, how could you tell them that it was your persecutor who was the father of your child? That your pastor, the leader of this town, had sinned so egregiously? He had a wife, a daughter. You'd known both of those things when you'd fallen for him, but it was harder to ignore in the harsh sunlight. When both of them stood in front of you.

You knew you'd have to face punishment. Sex before marriage was a crime after all, completely forbidden. To think they didn't know you were an adulterer also. You didn't know what it'd be, but you knew you'd have no option but to accept it when it came. You'd already made your peace with it, made your peace with whatever God could condemn you to. Perhaps, you'd have to live alone, wear a scarlet letter on your breast. Perhaps, they'd cast you out completely, and you'd be shunned. Perhaps, they'd hang you. You touched your stomach at that thought. Perhaps, there were certain punishments you couldn't bear.

Your lips only fell open when a voice yelled,

"It was I." And a gasp fell from your mouth. Your head turned, snapped towards the voice. Towards the sea of faces that was the crowd. But, you knew that voice. "It's my child." He said, and your eyes fell on a face you knew all too well. And, at that moment, you knew exactly what type of punishment God had set out for you.

Mad Thomas.

***

The day had gone by in a blur.

Over and over in your head, one question repeated itself. Why? It was almost loud enough to drown out the constant whispers, the stories being spun by every person who seemed to have a tongue.

Union couldn't seem to stop talking about it. Of when it started, how long it'd been going on, when the pair of you had even had time to sneak off. You'd even heard a young Constance Berman whisper about how she'd always known something was going on between the two of you, only to be shushed by her older sister as you passed. As you'd been let free of the top of the church steps.

You'd been left outside, left out in the sun. Inside the church went your father, the pastor, and Thomas. You had no idea what Thomas was going to say, what lies he was going to spin.

You couldn't bring yourself to leave, to speak. You felt as though a blanket of white noise had covered your ears, covered your mind. You were surprised, to say the least. You'd thought a wave of devastation had washed over you the first moment you'd realized you were with child, but this? It made it seem like ripples in a pond. The only thing you could do was stare at the church door and wait for them to come out. But, you felt a warm arm wrap around your waist and you turned to see the face of your mother.

"Come," She said, and you looked back at the door blankly. You didn't want to leave. You wanted to be there when they came out. But, you couldn't find the words to say or the strength to keep your feet firm. So, you let her guide you away from the crowd, and towards your house.

It was only later that you were told you and Thomas were to be married by the end of the month.

***

You and Thomas were never allowed a moment alone. You didn't know whether to be relieved or not, but Thomas, a man who you quickly found was far more confusing than you thought, was playing a charade. He brought you flowers, carried your water pail for you, and even took you on chaperoned walks. You, however, were stony and stiff, barely able to contain your disgust for him. It was on your first walk that you whispered,

"Why? Why are you doing this?" And, for a moment, the incorrigible man seemed to pretend not to hear you. He glanced over his shoulder, as if the wind was at his ear instead, and you saw him cast a sly glance to the man behind them. It was one of your father's friends, walking only about two yards behind you. Finally, when he decided he was far away enough, he responded,

"Would you rather I had let them cast you out? Let you and your child starve in the woods?" Thomas said back, the most sober you'd ever heard him. It seemed that apart of your father's deal with him was that he cut back on the drink. He didn't even stumble as he walked.

"Don't pretend you did this out of charity. Why, Thomas?" You asked, and you, for only a moment, reached out to touch his arm. You pulled it back just as quick, hoping that your chaperone hadn't seen. Thomas looked down at the action, before he smirked and shook his head.

"Aren't we a perfect match?" He asked, and you gave him a look of confusion. He continued with, "You think I don't know what people say about me? Don't you see, girl? It doesn't matter if your father is the best woodworker, or the richest in Union anymore. No one would have you, or your bastard child. Except me." He said, and you almost couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. He continued, his words a whisper now, "Besides, it's a lie they would believe." You stared at him, flabbergasted by his words. Flabbergasted by how right he was.

Thomas had, well, a reputation. It wasn't out of character for his wedding to be one out of necessity, and perhaps it earned you some pity from the townspeople. How many women had Thomas seduced? And how many of them could truly judge you? Not to mention, his words left one thing clear.

So, it was my dowry, you thought. It wasn't an unheard of reason, and it made sense given the man you were talking to. Your father had been avoiding selling you off, even as you reached far into your womanhood. And, surely, your father would never have considered him under any normal circumstance, but now...You didn't seem to have much of a choice.

Thomas paused, picking up one of the wildflowers and handing it to you. You took it, knowing now that you had to play along. That you had to act as if he truly was the father of your child, and not someone as foreign to you as the land outside of Union.

"Your father was going to start building us a house. I was thinking right here," Thomas said, his voice only slightly louder for the chaperone to hear, but you barely paid attention. You were staring down at the yellow flower in your hands, before you glanced up at the man in front of you.

He was tall, but his hair was lighter. His cheeks were stubbly and his eyes- They were a clear blue. Almost the same shade as the sky above you. You watched as he talked, as he laid out his plan. And, while the idea of being married to anyone that you didn't love sickened you, you tried to tell yourself that it wouldn't be as terrible as you felt it would be.

***

You and Thomas sat out in the sun, where you were making a flower crown and he was rambling about one thing or the other. You'd gotten very good at pretending to be in love, even in the span of only a couple of weeks.

You gave him smiles and laughter, and he gave you gifts or stole a caress. It was enough to stir the people of Union so no one would be the wiser. And, with your father at his station a short way across the field, the pair of you could be somewhat alone. But, still within viewing distance.

"You're not listening." Thomas said, and you smiled to yourself for a moment. You looked at the finished crown, before you looked up and reached over to where he was laying on the blanket. He was half-sitting up, and you placed the flower crown atop his head as you said,

"Yes, I was." You replied simply as you adjusted it, and Thomas stared at you and gave a small scoff. He caught your hand as you went to pull it away, his grip loose. He held it almost gently, and said,

"Then kiss me." And your brows drew together. A quick,

"What?" Fell from your lips, and you watched how Thomas smiled. He laughed, letting your hand go as he said,

"So, you weren't listening-" But you were quick to interrupt him.

"Why would- Why?" The idea- the simple idea was preposterous. Why would you kiss him? In broad daylight no less? The suggestion made you nervous, made a weird feeling start in your stomach. And, you ignored how this feeling wasn't entirely unfamiliar.

"They're going to expect us to kiss on our wedding day, girl. Shouldn't we have some practice?" He said, and you thought perhaps the first time he proposed it had been kinder. You stared at him, thinking over his words. Thomas waited, reaching out to touch your skirt. It was only to pick at it for a moment, before he drew his hand away.

You couldn't tell if that was the only reason Thomas wanted to kiss you, if there wasn't some ulterior motive somewhere. You wouldn't put it past him. But, really, he was right. Not to mention, while the pair of you had been affectionate, had you been affectionate enough?

That's what was so aggravating about Thomas. He was always right. He saw clear through whatever facade anyone put up, and saw the truth. Perhaps, that's why he was such a good liar.

Perhaps, that's why he was staring at you.

"Fine." You said, before you looked over your shoulder. You were in the field, but you were more or less a public spectacle. You could hear Thomas draw closer, feel the warmth of his hand reach for your arm.

"Let them look." He said as he gave a tug on your arm, and you turned back to face him. It was strange to hear him say that, such a stark difference from what you were used to. To have him so close was different than before, but Thomas didn't close the gap. You supposed he was waiting for you to do that. He whispered, "Well?" And, finally, you did. It was a short kiss, a quick stolen one. Still, it made Thomas smile. "So chaste." He let out a small laugh, and it was your turn to scoff. "Are you sure-" And you could guess what he was going to say. You kissed him again, if only to silence him. It was deeper, firmer than your last had been. And you hated to admit that you didn't hate it. Thomas was well-practiced, and the feeling of his thumb grazing your cheek was nearly as warm as the feeling of the sun on your back. It made another feeling start, one that you tried to stamp out that very second. You pulled away again, cutting it short. Thomas, for just a moment, tried to follow you before he pulled back. He had a small smile on his face, one he didn't try to hide as he pushed his hair back.

"You're practiced." You said quietly, the closest thing to a compliment you could give him. You'd heard rumors of him galavanting with the likes of Abbi Berman and some of the others. Perhaps, there was some truth to them. Thomas glanced over, and returned the words,

"Aye, so are you." When he smiled and glanced down at your belly, you knew the jab had been intended. And, unfortunately, he'd managed to make you laugh.

***

You knew it was coming. You had prepared yourself for it. Before the wedding, the pastor would counsel both of you. And, he was going to counsel you first.

You stood in a dress your mother had made, with your corset done loosely as not to press on your stomach. You'd been staring out the window, at the cloudless day and the happy faces of your town. Why shouldn't they be happy? It was the day for a celebration.

You'd even caught glimpses of Thomas. Your mother was fussing over him, and Issac had swiped his pouch. He looked- Well, you could tell he'd been scrubbed down. Most of his teeth were still black, but in clean clothes and with a clean face...Perhaps, he didn't look terrible. You tilted your head, and, almost as if he could feel you staring, Thomas' head turned. He caught your eyes, and reflected your posture with a tilt of his own head. It made you smile, something you found was less forced the more time you spent with him. Your head turned from him when you heard someone come in.

"Wonderful day for a wedding." Cyrus said as he closed the door to the chapel, and you tried to manage a smile. "Sit." He said, and gestured to one of the pews. You did, and you both kept your distance. The chapel was dim, only lit by the light outside. The pair of you were silent for a moment, before Cyrus said, "The magistrate is here. He seems eager to start. Do you," He paused for a moment. "Do you have any doubts?" And you felt that the question was not quite as empty as anyone else would think.

You'd been staring at your hands, and you finally lifted your gaze to him. To his deep, dark brown eyes. After a moment, you found your voice.

"None at all. Thomas is- He shall be the father to his child, and he shall be my husband. I shall do my duties, and, I- I love him." It was hard to say, at least when Cyrus sat in front of you. "What is there to doubt?" You asked, your question equally as heavy. While none of you would say it plainly, you knew from the way he looked over your face that he understood you perfectly. The pair of you would never confess your secret, and you'd let the hatchet be buried. Forgotten.

"Does he know?" Cyrus asked, and you knew what it sounded like. In case any of the others were listening. Like he was asking if your soon to be husband knew you loved him. The question couldn't be more disguised. Really, his eyes said, Does he know about us?

"Yes. Or, I think he does." You replied, and you watched how Cyrus reached to touch his clean-shaven face. His face was half hidden by his hand, but you could see his eyes were disturbed. A secret was harder to keep the more people knew, but you said, "And he loves me. He'd do anything to keep this union." You told him, and you hoped he got your meaning. When Cyrus glanced at you, you guessed he did. Silently, your eyes said, If he does, Thomas won't tell. And, after a pause, Cyrus let out a sigh.

"Then, there seems little I have to counsel you on."

***

"Have you thought of a name?" Thomas asked you, and you hummed.

You were picking at your sheet, looking towards the window. It had been months, five if not nearly six. Your baby was due in only a few weeks now, and you still hadn't decided. Your husband, a word to describe him that didn't seem so weird now, laid besides you facing up towards the roof.

Thomas, well, he was not what you thought. He had a good, if not sometimes strange, sense of humor, and did not bruise easily from even the harshest words. He could take care of himself, after years of doing so, and, subsequently, you as well. Your mother and the mid-wife still came by to make sure you were in good health, but Thomas had most of it handled. He was a little lazy when it came to work, especially the work your father tried to give him, but he seemed to find that the work that came with having his own house agreed with him. The pair of you had become- Well, familiar. That was the word you would use. You couldn't say, nearly six months later, that it was still just pretending.

Still, Thomas didn't touch you in any way you wouldn't want him to, and you had to lift your head to throw a glance back to him.

"I have some ideas. Perhaps, if it's a girl," You paused, a sly grin coming to your face, "We could name her Abigail." And you watched him scoff and roll his eyes, even lift his head off of his arm for a moment as he said,

"Absolutely not." And you snickered to yourself as you went back to facing away from him. It was just a jest, a reference to an old dalliance of his, but Thomas, if anything, was fun to tease. The only issue was that Thomas was just as sharp when it came to his wit. "Y'know- Fine. Then, if it's a boy, we shall name him Cyrus." And you let out a noise of protest. You tried to roll over, declaring,

"No!" And now it was Thomas' turn to laugh. He placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to ease you back down. You let him, and even reached to hold his arm. To pull him closer. He followed, and you guided his hand above your bulging stomach as the pair of you adjusted. "Fine- Neither of those names. But, we must think of something." You told him, feeling as he stretched his fingers over where your baby grew. He held you, his warmth against your back. His hand rubbing your stomach lightly.

It made a strange sense of warmth fill you, one you couldn't blame from body-heat. And, it wasn't so terrible that you tried to push it, or him, away.

***

"She cries like no other child in Union." Thomas said as he climbed into your bed. You were supposed to be resting, healing, even weeks, nearly two months, after your child's birth. You felt like you'd been confined to your bed for so long that you were starting to become a part of it. Thomas was only here for the break your father gave him half-way through the day. Still, you smiled to yourself from where you laid on your side, and said,

"Perhaps, it is your smell that disturbs her." You said, your voice thick with sleep but a cheeky grin working onto your face. You shouldn't have prompted him, because he took the opportunity to drape himself heavily over your back.

"Oh, should I sleep outside tonight then?" He asked, and you giggled when you felt his stubble tickling your cheek.

It was already long into the day, and you'd become lazy from bed-rest. It felt far too nice to have his warmth wrapped around you, to where you nearly wanted to fall asleep. You had grown too used to it now, and you could barely imagine a night without it.

"I never said that." You responded, and turned your face back towards the softness of your pillow. You felt Thomas' hand raise, his fingertips brush against your cheek. He was being brave, especially when you felt his lips brush against your neck. It made you bite your lip, a twinge of something not so unfamiliar swirling in your belly. You wondered if he would continue. Hell, you wanted him to. But, it was nothing more than that.

Thomas, to your surprise, had more restraint than you would've assumed. He kissed your cheek, went to stand, and excused himself with,

"Your father will begin to wonder where I am." And you lifted your head to watch him step away, before you settled back down. He was clean, cleaner than he had been when he'd been sleeping in the outhouse. His hair was softer and longer, tied away from his face. And his arms seemed stronger, perhaps from the days of working with your father. He was, if you dared to think so, a kind sight to your eyes now. "Sleep. I'll be back by the time you wake." He told you, and, as he left, you found yourself hoping he was right.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Don’t Worry - Harry Styles

a/n: i’m so excited about this!!! this fic is my take on the song Don’t Worry by The 1975 for @harrystylescherry ‘s Playlist fic challenge! it took me a lot longer to finish this one, mostly because i chose to write about a topic that’s painfully close to my heart and life and i hope to help those of you who are struggling with similar problems. it’s a touchy subject and i really hope i can at least help just for a little by putting this piece out! also, huge thanks to Nat for this challenge and i can’t wait to read all the other fics!!

warning: eating disorder, lots of self-hatred but even more fluff and love!

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip a little harder than they should, it’s starting to feel painful but you don’t even realize. You’re way too fixated on the Instagram post in front of you, swiping through the same four pictures over and over again, crippling anxiety crawling up your spine, clouding your every thought.

Oh how you wish you could say that you’re not the jealous type. Well, in a way, you are not. You don’t think your boyfriend would ever cheat on you or leave you, that’s just not him as a person. Your jealousy roots in your insecurities about your body and it creates more of a confusion in your head about why Harry, your boyfriend of three years is really dating you when he could have anyone, any model or super gorgeous singer, actress out there, yet he settled for… you.

Your thumb swipes across the screen again as you keep staring at the bikini photos Kendall Jenner has recently posted. She is stunning, the perfect model type with her long legs, skinny torso and snatched waist. Hell, she could make you question your sexuality on other days even, but today she is feeding your burning insecurities.

The thought that at one point in life, your boyfriend was with her makes you feel sick, because you are simply nothing like her. In every sense, you are what others like to call curvy, however you often use other terms, some not too nice ones on your worse days. Your hips are wide, holding quite some meat on them, your full thighs never heard of such thing as thigh gaps, not even when you were a kid. Your tummy brings you a headache sometimes when you want to wear something tight, the urge to hide it stronger than your fashion sense. It’s been ages since you last dared to step out of the house without a bra on, your full breasts always need the support if you don’t want them to sit a little lower on your chest than what you prefer. There are rolls, extra skin, stretch marks and all that jazz on your body and has been for a long time. No model looks like this and you are more than aware of that. But if your boyfriend can get any of them, why did he settle for you?

Tears are threatening to roll down your cheeks when you finally close the app and stop staring at Kendall’s perfect body. You ball your hands to stop them from shaking as you make your way to the bathroom in need of some freshening up. The cold water in your face feels nice, but the moment your eyes fall on your reflection you almost cringe at your own sight, as if it’s a reminder of everything you thought about in the past hour.

What is Harry doing with someone like me? The question keeps playing in your head on repeat and you wish you had a relevant answer, but your tainted thoughts keep bringing you back to the same point: He surely will realize it himself and leave me.

You try your best to shake it all off your mind, but it’s not easy. Sitting at the dining table you busy yourself with some work you brought home, hoping the files will keep your wandering thoughts at bay, however the attempt is not quite successful. And then you hear the front door open and close, followed by Harry’s sweet greeting.

“I’m home, baby!” he calls out and you can tell he is in a great mood just from his voice. You force your best fake smile to your lips, not wanting to ruin his mood with your petty party. He walks in, eyes falling on your sitting figure at the table and though you don’t know it, his heart flutters, like always, even after three years together.

Harry is obsessed with you, to say the least. Every little thing about you fascinates him, he loves everything about you, inside and out, just the way you are and he vowed to never stop telling you how much he adorns you.

“Hey there, wha’cha doin’?” he asks, kissing into your hair as he scans over the papers on the table.

“Oh, just… some extra work,” you shrug, chewing on your bottom lip again, the skin is about to break soon for sure.

“Baby, you work too much. Take some time off,” he tells you, shuffling around before he disappears in the bedroom for a moment before reappearing. “Fancy taking a bath with me?” he offers with a cheeky smile.

Bath, for that you’d have to be completely naked in front of him. That cannot happen in this state of mind.

“Um, I want to finish this. Maybe next time,” you tell him with a faint smile.

“You sure? I could massage your shoulders the way you like it so much, we could try that new bath salt we bought.”

“I really want to get this done, H. You just go and enjoy your bath,” you insist, the stern voice catches him a little by surprise.

“Everything alright baby?” His eyebrows pull together as he watches you from across the room.

“Mm, everything is fine. Just… working,” you tell him, eyes on the papers in front of you, pretending like you’re reading the lines, but in reality you have absolutely no idea what the words are saying. You hear him mumble a soft alright before he disappears again, leaving you alone.

A shaky breath leaves your trembling lips once you hear the water running in the bathroom. You bury your face in your palms, feeling so defeated and lost, the only thing that would comfort you would be Harry, but he cannot know what’s been going on in your head. He would never understand the struggle.

These thoughts usually only last for a few days. You always manage to forget about them eventually and return to normality, but not this time. Days turn into weeks and you find yourself sinking deeper into the hole you created for yourself. It starts to effect more parts of your life too. You’re having a hard time sleeping, always waking up several times during the night and sometimes you don’t even fall back asleep after one point. You lose your appetite, your mind tells you that you don’t need the nutritious food, that you need to lose the fat because that’s the only way you can keep Harry. You stop wearing your favorite clothes, always opt for the looser ones that hide every inch of your body and spend way too much time zoned out. You keep catching yourself completely lost in your thoughts during the day, thinking about how Harry might be comparing you to his exes every time he sees you, especially naked.

It’s been long since the last time you were intimate with Harry and you feel so bad for it, but you haven’t been able to bring yourself to bare your body in front of him. You always blew him off with some lame excuse and though there’s a chance he didn’t catch onto whatever was going on, now you know he is suspicious.

And you’re right. Harry notices every little thing, all the changes you’ve been going through. How you leave half your plate uneaten at dinner or how he finds you lying awake next to him in the middle of the night. He also notices how your favorite dresses and shirts remain untouched through the weeks even though you always wear them whenever you have the chance. Instead, he only sees you in big hoodies and loose pants, hiding the delicious curves of your body. But what truly pains him is how you’ve been ignoring all his tries to get close to you, the way you move away from his touch.

The last straw however happens on a Friday afternoon. You are sitting on the couch, mindlessly clicking through Netflix on the TV, trying to find something to watch when Harry is roaming through the cabinets in the bathroom, looking for the lotion he only uses when his skin feels extremely dry. He is going through every drawer and shelf, not finding what he is looking for, but then something odd catches his attention. Some weird named pills are sitting at the back of one of the shelves, hidden behind your perfumes so he hasn’t noticed it, but as he takes it out to have a better look at them, he almost throws them across the room. He has heard of similar pills before, they do more harm than help in weightloss, ruining your digestive system so badly you can actually get way more serious health problems if you use them too long. He frantically tears the box open and see that one third of the pills are gone, meaning that you’ve been taking them for a little while now behind his back.

With the box in his hand, he marches out to the living room where you are still and holding the pills up, he needs everything in him not to flip immediately.

“What the fuck are these?” he grits through his teeth. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he was never supposed to find those, but the cat’s out of the bad and now you can’t think of anything to bring up to your defense, knowing well he very much does not approve these kind of stuff.

“They are… I’m doing a cleanse,” you say, but there’s no use to lie.

“Drinking juice is for cleansing, this shit ruins your body,” he spats, throwing the box to the couch and you bite into your bottom lip, feeling the tears building up already. “Why would you even think about taking these?”

“Why?” you chuckle bitterly, your vision blurry from the tears. “Oh come on, don’t be so oblivious.”

“Y/N, these stuff are dangerous!” his anger turns into despair and concern as he sits beside you on the couch. “Baby, why did you take them?”

“Because I’m desperate, Harry!” you snap at him, the hot tears running down your cheeks. “You have no idea what I go through every fucking day!”

“Then talk to me! I want to know everything, I want to help you!” he pleads, reaching for your hand but you move away from him. “Please talk to me, baby!”

“So you can feed me lies? I’m not naïve, Harry,” you shake your head vigorously.

“What are you talking about?”

“Me! I’m talking about… this,” you growl gesturing at yourself. Harry runs his gaze down your body, but he still can’t figure out what this is about. You look beautiful, you always do in his eyes, he has no idea what the matter is. “I’m not one of your exes and all those models you’ve been rumored to date, Harry.”

“Okay and why is that relevant?”

“Because how am I the right person for someone like you? I’m not skinny, I’m not pretty and I’ll probably never be anything like the girls you dated. Why are you even wasting your time on me?”

By the time you get to the end, your tears are flooding and it breaks Harry’s heart to see you like this. Feeling so unworthy when in his eyes, you deserve everything. You’re perfect.

“I’m not wasting anything on you, baby. Why do you even want to look like them? I love every inch of your beautiful body!”

You flinch at his words. Deep down you know he means them, but there’s this barricade on your mind that tells you he is not serious, that he is only saying those things because he feels like he has to say them, not because he means them. That evil little voice in your head keeps telling you not to believe anything he says.

How could he love your body? How could a man like him be okay with someone like you? He doesn’t want to be with you. He’ll realize it and leave you!

You wish you could turn it off, you wish there was a switch that would shut out all these thoughts, but they just keep coming and coming. Harry watches you break right in front of his eyes and he has no idea what to do, panic is setting in. He feels like a failure that he let you reach this point.

“Baby, I fucking love you. Everything about you. Please don’t feel like you have to change for me. I love you no matter what, I think you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. If you want to change, do it because you want to do it for yourself! You don’t have to change for me!”

He is practically begging, desperate to get you to understand that you’re perfect to him just the way you are, that he is in love with every inch of your beautiful body. He reaches out to your face again and though you move away again and it pains him so much, he still goes through with the action and cups your face in his hand. His clammy palm meets your wet cheek as he turns your head so he can look into your eyes, but you are relentlessly keeping your gaze focused anywhere but him.

You can’t bear looking at him or yourself, you just want to disappear, vanish into nothing, existence right now feels like just too much.

“Love, please look at me,” he quietly begs and you shake your head no. “Please, let me see those beautiful eyes I love so much.”

You wince at his words and try to turn your head away, but he cups the other side of your face with his other hand, keeping it in place. Your eyes are wired shut, you just can’t look at him, it would break you.

Harry is kneeling next to the couch now where you are curled up, your arms wrapped around your knees as you try to hide yourself. You feel so lost, so miserable and you wish he didn’t see you like this.

“I can’t, Harry. I can’t,” you tell him shaking your head vigorously. Part of you feels so stupid for acting like this, but you just can’t help it. It’s not you anymore who is in charge of your mind and actions, you feel more like just a witness who sees herself from the outside and she doesn’t like what she sees, not even a bit.

Harry pushes himself up from the ground and takes the thick blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over you as he shimmies himself next to you, arms wrapping around your frame as he pulls you to his chest, covering you with the warm blanket as if it was some kind of shield from the world and that’s exactly what you need. A hiding spot.

You let him pull you to him, face buried into his chest as you sob into his shirt, his strong arms holding you so tight, you feel like nothing can hurt you with his hold around you.

“I love you, baby. I really do. And when I tell you I find you gorgeous and that how pretty I think you are, that’s the truth. I love everything about you. Fell in love with you the first time I saw you and I’m not even joking. Please don’t ever think that you have to change for me.”

“But I can’t stop thinking about how I’m so different from the people you’ve dated,” you whimper shaking your head. His hands squeeze your upper arm as he kisses the crown of your head.

“Different is not bad, baby. I didn’t date my previous girlfriends because they looked the way they did. If I’m thinking about it, I should feel a little offended you think I’m so shallow to care about these stuff,” he jokes, earning a faint huff that’s somewhat a laugh from you.

“I just think that you’re not blind.”

“That is correct,” he chuckles. “I’m not blind, that’s why I find you so incredibly sexy.”

“I really don’t see how you can use the word sexy to describe me,” you mumble closing your eyes as a headache is starting to form from how hard you were crying just a minute ago.

“What do you think there is on you that I shouldn’t find attractive?” he prompts the question in all seriousness.

“Please don’t get me started because we’ll never get to the end of the list,” you huff bitterly. It might have come out as a joke but there’s just plenty of the truth behind your words.

“No, seriously. Tell me what you think I don’t find attractive on you,” he nags and you give up with a sigh.

“Okay, I… I have fat rolls on my stomach,” you start off with the first thing that’s on your mind.

“Everyone has them.”

“But not as big as mine. Yours aren’t as big as mine.”

“So what? I love your tummy. It’s soft, keeps your organs safe, especially the ones that will help us start a family at one point. For me, your tummy means that you are enjoying the wonderful foods of the world, that you are well and have a great appetite. I fucking hate it when girls are just poking around their salads, complaining about calories and all that stuff. Do you have any idea how much I enjoy watching you eat? I think it might be a fetish at this point,” he chuckles, making you laugh as you hide your face in his chest.

“Please don’t say that.”

“Why? I love it when you enjoy the food, I love trying new food with you, cooking with you, see you satisfied when you’re full, you have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“Really?” you ask in a whisper.

“Absolutely. I love your tummy, it’s just even more of you to love on,” he hums kissing the top of your head. “Okay, what’s next?”

“I have so many stretch marks,” you whine with a scowl. “They are everywhere, on my thighs, my ass, my stomach, fucking everywhere!”

“I literally have nothing else to say than… I couldn’t care less. Honestly, most people have them, baby. It’s natural, your body is changing, it’s just trying to keep up with the pace. But you know what I’m looking forward to?”

“What?”

“I can’t wait till you have marks from pregnancy, Love,” he huffs dreamily and you can’t help, but smile at his words. “Those marks will be a reminder to me how much you’ve gone through for our family. I think those are just so wonderful.”

“Why are you linking everything with having babies?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks chuckling. “Because I can’t wait to have babies with you. I can’t wait to see you with a big belly, so I can love on you, take care of you and that our babies, I’m so excited for that.”

“You want all of that… with me?”

“Have I not made it clear to you?” he asks, looking down at you and moving your head your eyes finally meet his. “I’m not just saying all those things for nothing, Love. I see my future with you.”

Closing your eyes you let his words sink in and for the first time in a while, your mind is not trying to convince you that he is not telling you the truth.

“Okay, next,” he mumbles, his fingers dancing up and down your arm as he holds you tight.

“My boobs are weird,” you say out loud, cringing at your own words. You hate talking about this.

“Excuse me? What’s wrong with my girls?” he gasps, making you laugh.

“They are not as round as I would want them to be, a little saggy because of the weight gaining.”

“But they are boobs,” he points out, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“Okay, so that’s all that matters. Boobs are great, nothing else matters. Men are simple, baby.”

“I can’t believe you,” you laugh swatting his chest playfully.

“What? I mean it! Do you think I think about all that stuff when I see your boobs? My mind goes: Oh my God, boobs! And that’s it. I just get excited to see your tits.”

“You are such a pig,” you laugh, snuggling closer to his side.

“Are you shaming me for my preferences now?”

“Your preferences?”

“Yeah, you are my preference,” he remarks smugly, kissing into your hair again. “I literally don’t know how to say it differently, and I’m sorry for being so vulgar in advance…”

“Oh God,” you mumble, already fearing what he’s going to say.

“But you have nothing to worry about until you see my dick getting hard at the sight of you.”

“That was highly inappropriate.”

“Yeah, but it’s true. I find you sexy and there’s evidence. I can’t really hide it,” he chuckles and when you look up at him you see a dirty, twisted smirk on his pink lips. “Please don’t ever doubt any of my feelings for you, alright?” he asks in a more serious tone. “And if you feel like this again, I want you to tell me. Those pills and bottling it up inside you don’t help. I don’t want you to risk your health just because you have doubts about me. I love you, and when I say that I mean that I love all of you. Everything.”

“Okay,” you answer in a faint whisper.

“Don’t just say okay because you want me to get out of your hair. Promise me that you won’t keep it to yourself. I want to help you, I want to be there for you like you are always there for me.”

“I promise,” you nod, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip.

“Alright. Have you eaten today?” he softly asks and you fear to give him an answer, because you haven’t been able to push anything else down than just your morning coffee. “Okay, then let me make you something.” “I don’t… I’m not hungry…” you quietly tell him.

“Mhm, then I’ll make something for myself and being the romantic boyfriend that I am, I’m gonna share it with my lovely girlfriend as a cute gesture,” he says, rephrasing what he said earlier. You don’t argue with him, just let him slip out of your hold and go to the kitchen to make something for the two of you.

It’s a tiny step on a lifelong journey and you know that. You know that your feelings and opinion about yourself won’t change from one day to the other, but you slowly start to accept it. You have a lot ahead of you, the road might get bumpy sometimes and maybe other times you’ll have to take a few steps back. But at the end, you know it’s all going to be alright, because you will never be alone. Harry will be your greatest support through it all and now you can finally see that.

Don’t Worry - The 1975

When you're in love but you don't know what to do with it When blackness hangs overhead like a cloud

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you wake up and you don't know what day it is When the pain flows through your heart and your bones

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you feel no one knows just what you're goin' through When your insides feel much colder than snow

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' Oh, don't worry, darlin' Don't worry, darlin' I'll always love you You

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[piecksz]

forget me too. | (m)

pairing: modern punk!bakugo x fem!reader 

warnings: nsfw, angst, cheating, oral sex, penetrative sex, angry sex, choking, fingering, exes with benefits, mentions of breeding, hair pulling, explicit language, toxic relationship, manipulation, reader just being a lovesick puppy but wouldn’t we all be if it came to bakugo

summary: it’s been a year since you broke up with bakugo after you found him cheating on you, and you swore you’d moved on from him, but when you run into him again at a record shop, you fall back into a dangerous cycle of love and hate

words: 9,800+

a/n: so i gave in and watched downfalls high, and i’m not gonna lie, it wasn’t the best piece of media i’ve ever consumed, but mgk’s feature track with halsey kind of ate (AND IT LITERALLY INSPIRED SO MANY ANGSTY IDEAS I WAS ITCHINGGG). therefore, this is said angsty idea. you can listen to the song forget me too by machine gun kelly (feat. halsey) while reading, that’s if you’re really daring. good luck lol 

If there was one thing in the world you couldn’t fully understand, it was the type of girls who hated their ex-boyfriends, twirling their hair flirtatiously and giggling at all their pitiful punchlines one week, and the next, hatching bogus rumors to discourage other girls from seeking them out romantically, letting them know that their charm came at a price.

Until it was Bakugo.

You genuinely didn’t see it coming. You weren’t even able to recognize the severity of the situation until you were convulsing with the gravity of your sobs, shrieking at him in front of his apartment. Bakugo had called you earlier that evening to reschedule your previously-arranged dinner date since his friend Kirishima was in town, and he wanted to dedicate the rest of the night to catching up with his old schoolmate. You happily forfeited your own plans and instead opted to rendezvous with your boyfriend and his familiar later in the week, but as the night hauled on your favorite TV show no longer satiated your boredom.

Shuffling into the kitchen and scouring your cabinet for ingredients, you drew up the idea to bake some sweets for Bakugo and Kirishima because you figured it would be a nice surprise, however once you arrived at Bakugo’s place you deduced quickly that his friend wasn’t over. It should have been notably clear that something was unusual by the way he was hesitant to let you in.

He poked his head out from behind the privacy of his front door, definitely surprised to see you, but not in the way you had hoped.

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a tight-lipped expression, eyes dropping to the tub of sugar cookies in your hands. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call me to let me know you were coming over?”

You hummed after detecting a subtle edge in his voice. “I wanted to surprise you.” You rose to your toes to look past his head. “I thought you said your friend was coming over.”

Bakugo nodded, and once he extended his hand to accept your treats you could see that his torso was bare. “Idiot had to cancel at the last minute. School shit. He said he’ll be here tomorrow.”

Your grip tightened on the container. 

If his friend couldn’t make it then why didn’t he let you know? The two of you still could have made it to your dinner reservations.

And in that moment, you swore your internal monologue was loud enough to hear, because you immediately received your answer when you heard a soft, feminine voice come from inside his apartment.

“Who the fuck is that?” you barked, trying to outbalance Bakugo’s weight on the door. “Bakugo you little fucking shit--let me in.” It was a moment-long game between the two of you until Bakugo gave in, accepting the reality that he’d already been caught. You stumbled into the door as it swung open, revealing his company.

She was petite with short blonde hair, wearing a panicked expression that matched Bakugo’s oversized flannel on her naked body almost impeccably. You stared at each other until you broke the tense silence with a quiet holy shit.

“Holy shit,” you repeated louder, blinking as fast as you could to hold back the salty tears that were beginning to cloud your vision. “You fucking dick!” You didn’t notice how forceful your voice had gotten until you were shouting at him, the immense pressure building in your chest making your voice crack. You hurled every vulgar name in the book at Bakugo who couldn’t even look you in the eye while you cried in front of him.

This couldn’t have been the same man you once saw your future playing out with. The hell unfolding in front of you was exactly what your friends, Momo and Ochako, had predicted once you disclosed your interest in Bakugo. They warned you that he had a record on campus, with multiple girls, and yet somehow when he wooed you with sweet words and thoughtful gifts, just like they said he would, you still thought you were different. The worst part of it all was that he wasn’t a terrible guy by any means. He was a little rough around the edges with a temper, but he was hilarious and passionate, all while being profound and smart.

In your fantasies the two of you were married, and then came babies with tufts of your tresses and the mischief of his ruby eyes. He would have been a winner, if he wasn’t so emotionally incompetent. Perhaps you were naive to assume what you and Bakugo had was love just because he said so.

Your quivering fingers worked unsteadily against the lid of the tupperware. You tossed it aside before dumping the container’s contents on the floor of his apartment and hurled the empty food saver at him.

“Come fucking on Y/N,” he said wearily. The fucking nerve he had to act tired.

“Enjoy your cookies,” you responded venomously, leaving quickly before another set of tears came surging.

The next several months were excruciating, and the pain you experienced was nothing compared to its onset. If you weren’t spending days cocooned in bed to sleep off the fatigue of your endless crying, then you were on your couch, staring unamused while Blair Waldorf waltzed across your TV screen. 

At least she got her happy fucking ending. Good for her. 

You couldn’t even find the energy to eat, and ice cream was not the cure-all for heartbreaks like everyone lied and said it was.

Every so often Momo and Ochako would pay you a visit. For the first few weeks they let you mourn, consoling you and cleaning up the litter of crumpled tissues around your apartment. After the first month, they suggested that maybe meeting someone new would be the best way to help you forget about your break up, but you didn’t want to meet someone new. You just wanted to know if Bakugo missed you too.

Once your grades started slipping, you used that as an excuse to turn to isolation and lose yourself in your schoolwork. The distraction left you with no leisure time to scroll through old photos of you and Bakugo in your phone, and within a couple months, you swore that you’d finally moved on from him.

But it seemed all of that was forgotten the moment you recognized his head of spiky blonde hair from the next aisle over in the record shop, and you silently cursed the universe’s cruel way of working, that all-knowing bitch.

You kept your head down, pretending to be overtly interested in the Kendrick Lamar vinyl you held in your hands, but you couldn’t stop peeking over the shelf to see if Bakugo had moved from his spot.

You could hear him shuffling, and every time you looked up, he was a step closer to the end of the aisle, meaning that your game plan was to move in the opposite direction, so you could slip past him without being detected.

You continued to move one step to the left every time Bakugo moved another step to the right, surely securing your elusive escape, but when you glanced up again, he had disappeared from your line of surveillance. Shit.

“Y/N?”

Shit!

Slowly, you pivoted in the direction of your name only to gawk, horrified, as your ex-boyfriend strolled up to you casually, like he had never ripped your heart out and trampled all over it.

Once he got closer, you realized how generous the year between your break up and now had been to him. His yellow flannel was useless tied around his waist when it should have been on his shoulders instead, covering the way his black Led Zeppelin shirt clung to the impressive build of his upper body.  

“Holy fuck, it is you,” Bakugo said, incredulously. You swore he had grown taller now that he was standing in front of you because you couldn’t remember if he had always towered over you.

“Small world,” you said, distastefully.

“Not really,” Bakugo shrugged. “This is just where I come to slave away for minimum wage.”

You simply blinked at him with a placid expression, unable to decide which of your emotions was best considering the circumstances.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he chuckled. “Did you cut your hair?”

You raised an eyebrow plainly. “No.” If anything your hair had grown a few inches longer.

“Highlights?”

“No.”

“Shit seriously?” Bakugo cast his eyes downwards and then back up, sizing up your figure. “Well you look good.”

You could only offer up a dry laugh in response while shaking your head at the peculiarity of the situation.  

“What is wrong with you?” you jeered.  

You couldn’t believe the ease with which he approached you after not seeing you for twelve whole months, especially when six and a half of those months were spent bawling your eyes out over him and trying to repair the heart he broke carelessly.

Bakugo’s blithe expression withered. The look left behind was one of bashful remorse, as if he was embarrassed by the person he was a year ago.

You weren’t even sure if he had really changed since you’d gone out of your way to avoid hearing or seeing anything about him after you claimed to have gotten over him. The real reason was that you felt you couldn’t trust yourself. You feared that if you came across anything having to do with him, you’d descend into another self-destructive, heartache-driven spiral.

“I tried calling to apologize, but you blocked my number. And then blocked me on everything else,” Bakugo explained.

You shifted uncomfortably.

“I never saw you around campus, and when I showed up to your apartment you weren’t home. I felt like horse shit, seriously, but after a while I just gave up, I guess.”

You pursed your lips together at the mention of his attempts to remedy your breakup, specifically because this whole time you could have sworn he didn’t care to fix things with you.

Bakugo leaned in, and you surprised yourself by making no effort to create more distance between the both of you.

“I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N,” he said softly, for once without the gruffness of his usual tone.

If he made the effort to apologize even after a year, that must have meant that he still had some feelings left over for you, right? Did that mean he still loved you? The suspicion made your heart squeeze with expectation.

“Are you sorry that you hurt me, or are you sorry that you got caught?” You questioned.

“Both,” Bakugo snickered tactlessly.

You swore you could have punched his lights out then and there, but he must have noticed the way you tensed up because he looped his arm around you, pulling you in until you nestled into his larger frame.

“I fucking missed you, dumbass.”

Your stomach dropped at the very mention of the words you were longing to hear after your split, and you knew that you weren’t over him. Not even close. Even when you had caught another girl with her hands on him.

Your first mistake was unblocking Bakugo’s number that night, and your second was sending him a text. You stood in the bathroom, dumbfounded by your own actions while you clutched your phone nervously. Thank god he didn’t have his read receipts on. The last thing you needed to know was if he decided to leave you on read after you had just stroked his monumental ego.

You sat your phone aside and proceeded brushing your teeth until you were interrupted by a shrill ding from beside you. You grabbed your phone much too quickly and slid the screen up to be met with a reply from Bakugo.

9:32 PM

bakugo: so i’m still in your phone huh?

9:32 PM:

bakugo: lmao

9:33 PM:

bakugo: thinking about me even after bitching about how much you hate me?

9:34 PM:

bakugo: especially at night that’s hot

You scowled at the messages before putting your phone back down. Using the time it took you to finish brushing your teeth and washing your face, you recited your responses over and over again because as much as you wanted to, you knew it wouldn’t be smart to jump back into your relationship that fast. You still held negative sentiments about what he had done to you, but the pleasure of having him back was slowly beginning to outweigh your earlier feelings.

While shuffling into your bedroom, you kept your eyes glued to your phone screen, typing, deleting, and retyping messages, worried that they would sound too needy.

9:50 PM:

you: so i see you still have a head so big that it could block out the sun

9:53 PM:

bakugo: fuck off you little shit

9:53 PM:

bakugo: no classes tmrw and i’m off work at 12

9:54 PM:

you: ok? do i look like your fucking secretary?

10:00 PM:

bakugo: no im just letting you know in case you’re planning on stalking me again :^(

10:01 PM

bakugo: obviously i wanna see you tomorrow dipshit

Warmth spread across your cheeks until it deepened into a dangerous heat, and the happy memories of you and Bakugo a year ago resurfaced as deja vu. Everything was scarily reminiscent of the way he asked you out the first time, back when your opinions about him were much more straightforward.

You rolled over to the other side of your bed and squealed, flustered by how to-the-point he was about his desire to reconcile things with you.

“Get it together, honestly,” you reprimanded yourself, jabbing a finger against your temple in an effort to drill the mantra into your head.

You responded back to accept Bakugo’s invitation, being mindful not to sound too excited, but you couldn’t deny that you slept better than usual that night.

The next day when you met up with Bakugo after his shift at the record shop ended, the two of you settled on getting coffee from one of the restaurants on campus. Well, you got a coffee, but Bakugo went for an iced tea instead because he insisted that coffee tasted like “dog shit”.

Regardless of your staggering difference of opinion in beverages, you guys hit it off again, laughing and joking around like there had never been a rift between you two in the first place. You were taken aback by how comfortable you still felt around him and how much he still seemed to adore you.

Two weeks after your reunion, you and Bakugo were already falling back into the routine of going on dates like you’d done before, snickering in the back of crowded movie theaters and demolishing each other in multiple rounds of mini golf. You even kept the photo booth picture that was printed for you at the aquarium in your wallet, just so you could peek at it every now and then.

Three weeks after your reunion, you concluded that you were pretty much together. Bakugo had never made it official, and neither had you, but you trusted the way you felt, and it seemed clear that he felt the same way.

Your friends however, weren’t as happy to hear the news of you and Bakugo seeing each other again.

Momo’s eyes widened as she leaned over the table and thrusted her mechanical pencil in your direction.

“Y/N, please tell me you’re joking.” She turned to Ochako who looked at you with a troubled expression. “Uraraka, please tell me she’s joking.”

Ochako pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head in utter disbelief. She said nothing. Rather she looked to you for an answer, wanting you to explain the situation before she scolded you for being so forgiving toward someone who didn’t deserve it.  

“He apologized okay? And it really seemed like he meant it, I’m not just saying that. You guys know I can’t hold grudges. I’m soft.”

Momo huffed.

“We started talking, and he told me that he tried to apologize but he never got the chance.”

Your friends were still quiet, waiting for the punchline, but once they realized that there was no hidden gag to the story, they leaned back in exhaustion, disappointed that you’d gotten yourself into another wearisome situation because of your thoughtlessness.

“And he said he missed me. After an entire year, he still misses me.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if we had found you someone else, you know. Someone nice. Better than Bakugo, so you don’t feel like you have to settle,” Momo countered.

“I didn’t need to date someone else,” you chided her. “I’m not one of those people that need to be in a relationship to feel fulfilled, plus I’ve been swamped with assignments.” You knew you were just trying to save face. You knew the real reason why you turned down all your prospective blind dates, and your friends knew it too. You couldn’t see yourself with anyone other than Bakugo, and you meant it when you said you didn’t need love to feel like you had purpose, but when it came to the blonde, it appeared that none of those principles applied.

“You’re lying,” Ochako sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear before clicking her pen and returning to her research paper.

“I’m not settling!” you declared, earning a few scattered glances from the other students in the library. You smiled at them ruefully, mouthing an apology, and ducked your head back into your college textbook.

You decided to drop the conversation, concluding that your friends just wouldn’t understand. They didn’t know your relationship with Bakugo like you did so how could they have understood?

Later that night however, you couldn’t help but chew over your friends’ reactions. There was clearly a reason why they felt the way they did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to see their concern. You didn’t need to be chastised every time you did something they didn’t agree with, because you reminded yourself you were a grown ass woman. You treasured Momo and Ochako, but you were absolutely capable of looking out of yourself.

“Why do girls watch this shit?” Bakugo muttered from beside you, uninterested in the movie playing on the Macbook propped up in your lap. “It’s just dresses and sideburns, where the fuck are the fist fights?”

“It’s Pride and Prejudice, stupid. Not Deadpool,” you retorted, giggling slightly once Bakugo decided the skin of your neck was more interesting than Kiera Knightley. He released a throaty chuckle while attaching his lips to the base of your jaw and continued kissing until he stopped where your neck met your shoulders.

“Stop, I’m trying to watch the movie,” you complained tenderly with absolutely no intent to make Bakugo stop.

Bakugo sat up, grabbing your laptop off the sheets and closing it briskly. “Fuck the movie, I have a better idea,” he suggested. Your eyebrows furrowed, watching as he tossed the device onto the chair beside your closet.

“Hey, what are you doing, you dick?” you protested.

Within seconds Bakugo was on top of you with arms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in beneath him.

“Yeah?” he whispered provocatively, like he was making sure he had your permission first. He spoke under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You didn’t know what sensation you registered first: the warmth now spreading quickly across your cheeks, down to your chest, or the pronounced throbbing between your thighs.

You nodded, softly responding with a “yeah” in return, and Bakugo didn’t waste a second before pressing his mouth to yours enthusiastically. You were surprised how quickly you re-familiarized yourself with the curve of his lips and the way they moved steadily against yours. Acting with fervor, he used his hand to grip your chin, forcing your mouth to open wider so he could slip his tongue past your teeth.

Bakugo used his free hand to grab your breast under your sweatshirt, and you relished in the feeling of his warm palm against your skin while he ran his fingertips against the silky fabric of your lace bra.

“Lace? You dirty bitch,” he teased, breaking contact. “There’s no way you could have known we were gonna fuck.”

You laughed, appreciating how seductive Bakugo looked. His sandy hair was tousled from your impatient hands in his locks, skin feverishly tinged with a dusty pink hue, and lips swollen from the force of his kiss.

“I didn’t know, but I was hoping we would,” you answered honestly. “I guess I got lucky.”

Bakugo snickered, clearly pleased with the response he received. His scarlet eyes flickered lustfully, and he hastily returned to working on your body. He pulled your sweatshirt up and off, tossing it over his shoulder before working swiftly against the clasp of your bra, which he skillfully managed to break with just one hand.

Must have had a lot of practice with that.

But your cynical thoughts were soon forgotten the moment Bakugo’s tongue curled around your nipple, enjoying the way his saliva made your skin glisten under the dim lamp light. He hummed loudly every time you jolted and whimpered, your back arching in tandem. He closed his lips around the delicate nub, sucking harshly while making no attempts to hide his sly smile. He was enjoying himself far too much.

He made sure he put his other hand to work, rolling your other nipple between his fingers, pinching roughly while tugging on it absentmindedly. Once he grew bored of your innocent mewls, he thirsted for something filthier.

Bakugo tantalizingly slid his hand down your stomach until his fingers curled around the waistband of your volleyball shorts. He stretched the Spandex material until when he released it, it snapped painfully against your skin, his cock throbbing at the exposure of your earthy groan.

He slipped off your shorts, and the sight before him was enough to elicit a long, drawn-out “Jesus fucking Christ”.

You didn’t realize you were so aroused that your underwear was soaking wet, your pussy now visible through the thin sheer fabric. Bakugo swallowed hard, palming himself to relieve some of the unbearable pressure he was feeling. He could feel his cock straining against his underwear, and he wanted to stick his dick inside you and fuck you until your eyes rolled back into your head, but the only thing he wanted more than that was to taste you.

“These are mine,” Bakugo insisted. He pulled your panties off, chuckling dryly at the wet stain on the fabric before tucking them into his pocket.

You tilted your head at him.

“What? I’m keeping them as a souvenir,” he replied.

But that’s not what you were concerned with. You were more humiliated than anything that this was your first time having sex with him in a year, and you’d been horny for him since you opened the door. You might as well have just written Bakugo’s Whore on your head in thick permanent marker, but you kept your suggestion to yourself knowing that Bakugo would have liked the idea way too much.

Bakugo reached down to pull his shirt over his head and threw it aside, unveiling his impressive physique. After you guys had broken up, he began finding himself in the gym more frequently, placating his regret and anger through physical exertion, and although he used weightlifting to cope, it left him with an incredible build.

Sweet lord, you thought, please fucking break me.

Bakugo wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you forcibly toward him. You propped yourself up on your elbows to get a good look as his face disappeared between your legs. You couldn’t see much past his hair, but you felt a long wet lick up your folds, and your arms immediately gave out, causing you to fall back onto the bed while your hips bucked upward.

You let out an obscene cry, but that only encouraged Bakugo more. He parted your lips with his tongue, licking another stripe up to your clit before sucking it into his mouth, all while peering up at you to see the way you writhed under his touch. You gripped the sheets, and your breathing grew increasingly labored as Bakugo swirled the tip of his tongue against the tender bud, slowly in one direction, and then the opposite. You continued to grind yourself against his mouth while your desire became insatiable. You felt like your hunger was completely justified, because you hadn’t been spoiled in a long fucking time.

You completely unraveled once you glanced down just in time to see Bakugo spit on your parted folds before using his fingers to coat your pussy in his saliva. His slick fingers rubbed your clit, taunting you for just a while longer, and then he dipped his fingers inside of you. He started with two fingers, slipping them in and out with ease until his spit mixed with your arousal created a vile lubricant.

With the way Bakugo’s lips were slightly parted and his eyebrows were knitted in the center, you could tell he was concentrating dangerously, observing how desperately you swallowed his fingers every time he pushed them in.

Your vision erupted into white heat when he bent down to take your clit back into his mouth while pumping in and out of you with an added finger. The symphony that filled the space of your room was absolutely foul. Your intense cries bounced off the walls, while Bakugo panted heavily at the messy sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you. And neither of you cared if your neighbors could hear.

“Bakugo--,” you started, but your broken plea wasn’t nearly enough to get his attention.

“Bakugo,” you cried louder, your body beginning to shake with the onset of your orgasm.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asked, his voice slightly higher than you were used to, almost like he was whining.

You could only give a weak nod in response.

“Be a good little bitch and cum for me,” Bakugo coaxed, as you yielded to the intensity of your orgasm. He quickened his pace just to see you convulse as you reached your high, but then slowed down until he was ready to pull his fingers out of you.

The sight was enough to make Bakugo cum untouched. You were finger-fucked out, eyes shut as your chest heaved up and down while you tried to catch your breath. Your arousal was smeared on the inside of your thighs and your bedsheet was damp where you released.

Bakugo wanted to ask you if you were alright, but the aching pain in his pants took priority. He reached into his underwear, freeing his swollen cock from the confines of his boxers. He bit down on his bottom lip so hard he almost drew blood as he pumped himself gingerly, hissing at the feeling. His tip was raw and flushed, leaking precum in shameless amounts.

He hoisted your legs on either shoulder and positioned himself at your entrance, looking at you for confirmation, and you nodded feebly. He sunk his entire length into you, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a shrill scream. Your walls were already sore, and the sting of Bakugo’s large cock inside of you was a painful bliss. Tears came quickly, and they rolled down your cheeks while Bakugo rocked his hips into you slowly. He was waiting for his aching to subside before speeding up his rhythm, and once it did he was taken over by an unappeasable greed.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, thrusting himself in and out of you. “If you keep squeezing me like that I’m gonna cum inside you and get you fucking pregnant.” Bakugo had one hand on your headboard, his grip so firm that his knuckles had turned white.

You sobbed underneath him, withstanding your own pain until it subdued into pleasure. You shifted your legs until they wrapped around Bakugo’s strong torso, unable to get enough of him.

Bakugo rammed into you, and your headboard hitting your wall furiously set the tempo until he fell into a staggered cadence.

“I’m gonna cum,” he choked out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--.” Your name was the last thing Bakugo could get out before he broke free of your hold, pulling himself out of you so he could release. He cummed on your stomach, generously shooting out hot spurts of white until he was soft and you were covered in his seed.

Bakugo leaned over and collapsed beside you, short of breath. He was drenched in sweat and his blonde hair stuck to his forehead with perspiration. He chuckled after a few silent minutes.

“What the fuck was that? Were you trying to get me to nut in you?” Bakugo asked, turning to face you.

You didn’t know what he was talking about until you remembered the way you wrapped him up in your legs while he was inside you.

You snorted, erupting into a fit of sheepish laughter. “Yeah.”

Bakugo raised an eyebrow, bewildered. “Crazy bitch.”

He pulled his sweatpants up and rolled out of your bed. “I’m not ready to be a dad yet,” he voiced, before shuffling lazily out of the room to find something he could clean you up with and smoke a cigarette on the fire escape.

The next morning you found yourself alone, Bakugo nowhere to be found despite you falling asleep with his arms around your waist. You raised a sleepy eyebrow at the empty space next to you that was still sunken from his weight. Okay good, so you didn’t hallucinate last night. You figured Bakugo had early duties to attend to, so you simply grumbled before turning over to get more sleep.

Following that day, every time Bakugo came over to your place, or you found yourself at his, the routine was simple: have breathtaking sex and then pass out.

You grew used to expecting it from him whenever the two of you spent any time alone, and the night before always consumed your thoughts the morning after. You’d squeeze your thighs together during your lecture hall while your professor yammered on about early psychology. The memory of Bakugo’s hand around your throat as he fucked you from behind prompted a surge of heat to your core.

Even when the two of you couldn’t see each other because neither of your schedules coincided, you found a way to make things work, whether it was over the phone, through text, or over Facetime.

Occasionally, you’d ring up Bakugo while he was closing up the shop to taunt him, touching yourself on the other line while he’d grow painfully hard and couldn’t relieve himself until he got home.

“You little fucking shit.” You loved the way his low growls sounded over the phone. “Let’s see how bold you are when I come over and turn your thighs into earmuffs.”

And occasionally, he’d send you videos of himself in bed while you were at the library late cramming for your exams the next morning, touching his cock with haste before cumming on his hands as he groaned your name loudly.

Not an ounce of passion was lost between you two, and if anything you’d only grown closer together from the time spent apart. You had your love back, and everything in your life was ideal.

Of course, that was all before the party.

The party at Sero’s house that you’d caught wind of once you joined Momo, Ochako, and your other friend Mina for lunch.

“You know I don’t like going to parties thrown by frats,” Ochako muttered, ripping off small bites of her chicken wrap.

“Why not? There’ll be plenty of guys there for you to talk to, your phone has been a little dry lately,” Mina responded, laughing silently.

Ochako squinted at her jest before playfully rolling her eyes herself. “That’s exactly why. You know what happened last time I went to a frat party. The hangover isn’t worth it.”

Mina exhaled heavily and turned to you with a hopeful look.

“Y/N, you’ll go with us right? Me and Momo?”

You squeezed your water bottle wearily. “I don’t know. I’m not a fan of frat parties either.” You didn’t know what answer to give her, she looked extremely optimistic, and you hated to rain on Mina’s Friday night plans, but you didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening crammed in a frat house with a crowd of strangers.

Mina stuck out her bottom lip and reached to grab your hand from across the table. “Please? Please? There’s no guarantee Momo won’t ditch me at the party for Todoroki.”

Momo murmured inaudibly beside her.

You sighed, however you relented, giving into the arrangements Mina had made for you, but you regretted your decision far too late.

You showed up to the gathering with Mina and Momo dressed modestly. Unlike your friends and many of the other girls there, you already had someone that you were seeing, and you wanted to look as reserved as you could so there was no confusion around whether or not you were off the market.

Bakugo was possessive, and he preferred to keep his possessions close. There was no telling what he would do or how he’d react if he learned of another man trying to make a move on you.

You took small sips out of your cup while you followed quietly behind Momo and Mina as they moved from person to person, greeting friends you were unfamiliar with. You feigned a cheery smile when you were introduced to them, but overall you were bored with the party scene. You weren’t really a frat party girl.

You yelled over to Momo that you needed another drink and shook your head when she asked you if you needed her to come with you. She looked far too engrossed in her conversation with Todoroki, and you didn’t want to just whisk her away while they were talking. In fact, you were the chairman of the Anti-Cockblock Committee.

You sauntered into the kitchen, sliding in next to the counter once the guests who were there first left. You started grabbing bottles to inspect the labels because to be honest, you weren’t sure what half of these brands were. As a broke college student, you bought your own drinks, which were mainly $20 cases of hard lemonade and cheap raspberry Smirnoff vodka from the liquor store. Clearly Sero had selective taste in high quality shit.

You poured yourself a small sip of Patron, tasting the clear liquid, and tried not to gag at the oaky taste as it burned your throat going down.

You felt someone ease in beside you. “Hey, bartender.”

You glanced at the guest next to you, their familiar visage coming into view. You recognized his distinctive green head of hair and innocent freckles peppered across his cheeks, it was the same face you saw every day in your sociology class.

What was his name? Ku--something. Zu…?

You remembered your professor referred to him by his nickname, Deku, and once you said his name as convincingly as you could, you gathered by his boyish grin that you were right.

“I’m surprised you remembered,” he laughed, and adjusted his circle-rimmed glasses while his emerald eyes swelled into crescents.

“I didn’t really take you for a partier,” you observed. Deku was incredibly smart from what you’d seen in class. He knew the answers before your professor could even finish their questions, and when you’d ask him if he could repeat what the teacher said for your notes, he explained the material even better than the person who was an expert in the subject for a living.

“I’m not,” he replied. “But you know, the college experience and all that.”

You scoffed and nodded, knowingly. “Melt your brain studying for 25 hours a day, 8 days a week, and then get shitfaced whenever you can. Yeah, that’s definitely the college experience,” you joked, pouring yourself a couple shots of vodka and mixed it with orange soda.

“I was meaning to ask you,” Deku started. “I mean--Yeah--I was meaning to ask you for your number in class earlier this week.”

You stirred your drink with a finger before stealing a taste. “Of course,” you agreed happily.

Deku’s face deepened into a rosy bloom once he took out his phone, typing in your contact while you recited the numbers.

“I’m not asking for a weird reason or anything like that. Just so we can help each other out with homework and stuff.”

You nodded, already acknowledging that Deku was a sweet kid, at least as far as you knew. You didn’t expect him to have any promiscuous intentions.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll be as much help to you as you’ll be to me,” you teased, and Deku chuckled nervously still trying to shake the blush off his cheeks. “I’m free on Monday, I can meet up with you after class if you want.”

Deku buried his face into his cup, his shallow breathing causing his glasses to fog up. “Yeah, that sounds great,” he mumbled bashfully.

“Text me the deets,” you grinned, before wandering off back to your friends.

On the way back to the stairwell where Momo and Mina were still standing, your attention was drawn by a large crowd around the living room that erupted into jovial squeals and cheers every few seconds. You gravitated toward the mass of guests, standing on your toes to get a better look, but when that didn’t work you gently made your way through the throng of people, issuing soft “sorry, excuse me’s” and “thank you’s” to the people that didn’t mind letting you slip past them.

You had no knowledge that he was going to be here. He never told you what his plans for the night were, but this was the last place you were expecting Bakugo to be.

Here.

Playing a game of “Kiss and Blow” on a crowded couch with someone who wasn’t you. When it reached his turn, you could see his shallow inhale and how he put in no effort to keep the card against his mouth. It fell between the cushions, and the crowd erupted into another rally.

Bakugo grinned artfully and hooked his arm around the eager brunette before smothering her giggles with a deep tongue-filled kiss.

At first, the cogs in your brain couldn’t turn fast enough to register what was happening, and your thought process stuttered for a moment while your eyes took in more than you expected. Your body remained immobile, giving your thoughts a few seconds to catch up. Maybe for those few seconds, your anguish was suspended, and your shock was simply a cushion until you fell apart.

You couldn’t make your way out of the party fast enough, and you didn’t even think to let Momo and Mina know that you were leaving. Everything around you sounded warbled, like you were underwater, as your leaden legs carried you out, past the front lawn, and across the street until you were far away that you could no longer hear the music of the party. It was then that you pulled out your phone to text Mina claiming that you didn’t feel well and called an Uber to take you home.

The following morning you ignored all of Bakugo’s texts. He sent one at 10 AM, asking you if you were down to get breakfast, and then another at noon suggesting lunch since you didn’t respond to his text about breakfast. He texted you again, and again, and again, and you continued to disregard him.

You didn’t cry this time around. No. You were filled with a foreign anger. It was strange and new, and it burned nothing like the rage you’d felt in all your years of living. You didn’t know whether you were angry at him for putting you through this again or if you were angry at yourself for really believing that he’d changed. You really wanted to confront Bakugo in person, but you were afraid of your unpredictability. You didn’t know what you would do if you saw him--roundhouse kick him in the throat most likely.

Bakugo’s relentless attempts to get in contact with you didn’t let up, even late into the night. He sent another text threatening to show up at your apartment if you didn’t answer him, and then he called yet again.

Angrily, you reached out to answer your phone, but once you held it to your ear all the fury you’d been bearing throughout the day emerged.

“Can you fuck off?” You hissed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bakugo responded, taken off guard by your greeting. “What the fuck?”

“If you were so hellbent on seeing me today, you should have thought about that before you decided to be a hypocritical little bastard! Again!” You shook with anger, unable to effectively piece together all the profane names you wanted to call him.

Bakugo was still while you put him on blast.

“Do you not have anything to say to me, you fuckwit?”

“No, because I don’t even know why you’re going full bitch right now!” Bakugo defended himself. You sat back at his reply, confused at why he was guarded. You knew that when Bakugo was aware he was in the wrong he always remained quiet and pensive.

“Last night?” you clarified. “Does last night not ring a bell to you?”

He let out a small grunt of recollection. “I was at a party last night, what are you talking about?”

“No shit, Bakugo! I saw you swallowing another girl whole!”

The other line erupted into laughter, and a large knot settled in your throat.

“Am I not allowed to kiss other girls now?” he asked.

Had he been hit by a semi-truck? Did he need a swift lobotomy?

“Why would you kiss another girl if you have a girlfriend?”

Bakugo muttered a quiet “what”, and then the lightbulb clicked.

“Holy shit, Y/N, did you think we were back together?”

Huh?

“When did we ever say that we were together?” he questioned lightly, finding your misunderstanding comical.

But--

“I thought we were just fucking around, you know? I never mentioned getting back together, and you didn’t either, so I just assumed we were just fucking.”

You didn’t say a word. As angry as you wanted to be and as angry as you already were, he was right. You had only assumed that you two were back together, but neither of you agreed on it explicitly.

“Our dates...” you countered listlessly.

“Two people hanging out together isn’t always a date.” Bakugo shifted on the other end and then grunted again to occupy the tense silence. “Shitting me, I didn’t know that’s what you were thinking.”

Realization of how foolish you made yourself look set in, and you hoped the awkwardness that hung in the air was fleeting. You swallow heavily, unable to digest defeat.

“Okay,” you murmured, before hanging up and flinging your phone aside.

You and Bakugo didn’t speak for the rest of the night into next morning, and by midday Monday when your study session with Deku rolled around, you were more than reluctant to go. You knew the frustration of someone cancelling last minute, but you were unsure whether you could bring a positive spirit to your meetup, and the last thing you wanted to do was put kind-hearted Deku through your bad mood.

As the time drew closer, you were considering texting him to rain check, letting him know you were feeling under the weather, when he sent you a picture at the coffee shop. Deku had ordered you lunch, mentioning that you must’ve been hungry after classes all day. He explained that he didn’t know what you liked so he just bought for you what he usually got for himself.

After that, you couldn’t have possibly turned him down, so you showed up anyway. Before you knew it, the clock already approached 9 PM, and the coffee shop was about to close for the night. Time had flown by while you were getting lost in upbeat conversation with Deku, and the two of you laughed and joked around more than you’d done your assignment, but you didn’t mind since it gave you another excuse to meet up with him. You didn’t expect him to be as naturally humorous as he was, nor did you guess you’d have as much in common with him as you did, but you’d forgotten about your own heartache during the time you spent in his company. Not to mention, he was very easy on the eyes, but that was just an additional plus.

However, when you finally returned home to your empty apartment that night, all your feelings came flooding back.

“Right,” you muttered to yourself, setting your backpack down by the door, and throwing your keys onto the kitchen counter. “Back to square one.”

Normally, you’d invite Bakugo over, but you had no desire to be anywhere within a three mile radius of him at the moment, so you quickly got ready for bed, figuring that the more time you spent asleep meant less time that you’d have to dwell over the all-too-familiar pain in your chest.

You continued to spend more and more time with Deku even though most of your plans were organized around schoolwork, even if it was studying for a test or just practicing terminology flashcards. Eventually, you’d gotten close enough that you didn’t mind inviting him over since your apartment was much quieter than the dorm he shared with his roommate, Kaminari.

You were both sat on your couch, and you took turns quizzing each other on general knowledge sociology questions. You flipped through the flashcards, Deku answering every question with impressive ease, until you had grown tired.

“Deku, this isn’t fun. You know every term,” you sighed, shuffling through the stack.

“Studying isn’t supposed to be fun, that’s why it’s called studying and not having fun,” he joked lamely, extending his hands to take his flashcards back.

You giggled silently at his flat humor and leaned back against the armrest to put your knees up. “Okay, well what do you like to do when you’re not studying?”

Deku slipped his flashcards into the pocket of his backpack. “Between classes, studying, and wrestling, I don’t really have much time for anything else.”

You gaped. “You wrestle? No fucking way.”

Deku raised an eyebrow at you, amused and unsure of the reason for your stupefaction. “Why do you think I’m a loser or something?”

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you explained. “I just wouldn’t have guessed.” You took note of his lean stature. He did look like he worked out, but you never considered his pastime was something as brutish as wrestling. You figured his interests would explain the scars that decorated both of his hands.

“Okay then,” you began, hopping up and throwing the blanket you were wrapped in on the couch. “Teach me something.”

Deku stared at you, uncertain whether you were serious. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, timidly.

“Oh man up, you baby,” you joked while wrapping your hands around his wrists, urging him to stand up. “Who’s to say I won’t hurt you?”

Deku chuckled nervously before following you over to the open space between your living room and kitchen. He stood for a second, thinking of the easiest moves to show you, and then he nodded, like he had fully decided.

“Okay, come here.”

You did as you were told, letting Deku guide you into the correct position. You cleared your throat, unnerved by the way his chest pressed up against your back, and his strong hands looped around your arms to lock them behind your head.

“This is a full nelson,” he instructed. “It’s a submission hold. It’s not allowed in our matches, but feel free to use it if you ever find some creep following you home.” You could feel his chest rumble with laughter between your shoulder blades.  

You nodded, feeling flustered. “Mhm.”

The next demonstration had the two of you on the floor with your arm twisted at an uncomfortable angle while Deku’s arm was situated over your rib cage. You could feel his staggered breathing across the shell of your ear, and you looked over your shoulder expectantly, waiting for him to explain the move.

Deku must have realized how close your faces were to each other because he absolutely lost his cool. He began stammering, unable to get his words out. “And this one is called the--um...sorry it’s called the--,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, I’m--I just wanna kiss you so bad right now.” His body tensed with his confession, but you were the one who made the first move.

Once Deku’s hold loosened, you leaned into him, allowing your lips to collide with his. Your mouths moved against each other fervently, and the two of you rolled over until you were on top of him with your legs on either side of his waist. Ever since a few nights before you’d blown up on Bakugo, you hadn’t been touched. Not even by yourself. You tried, but your fingers came nothing close to competing with his. You were so incredibly needy that you had to forcefully stop yourself from gyrating your hips on Deku’s crotch. He was already red in the face, and you were afraid he might collapse if you worked your ass against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You broke your kiss to take Deku’s hands, and you rested them on your chest. With Bakugo, he would have immediately taken control, driving you into ecstasy, but with Deku it was different. It was as if he had never touched a pair of breasts before. His breathing grew even more shallow as his body became rigid.

You tilted your head, slightly irritated from the lack of action, but you were more concerned about Deku’s wellbeing.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tongue in cheek.

Deku nodded anxiously. “Yup, yup, yup, I’m great. I’m good.”

But something was off, and you knew you weren’t enjoying yourself like you typically would even with days of pent up libido. You closed your eyes tiredly and released an exasperated sigh, slowly pulling yourself off of him. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this right now--we shouldn’t--.”

Deku opened his mouth to contest, but you cut him off.

“It’s getting late, you should go. I’ll see you around.” You buried your face in your hands, embarrassed at your desperation. “I’m so sorry,” you apologized again.

Deku adjusted his glasses and murmured a small “It’s fine, Y/N.” He helped you up after he pulled himself off of the floor and gathered his belongings before heading out quickly, eager to flee the tension.

Fuck, you thought. How did things get so complicated? Deku was a sweet kid, genuinely pure at heart, and you knew he wanted you from the way his emerald eyes were glued to your frame, even while you were fully-clothed. Yet he wasn’t Bakugo. He didn’t know how to work you like Bakugo did, and you felt shamefaced for thinking about your ex-boyfriend again. You mulled it over and began to question why you were stopping yourself from having your cake and eating it too.

Bakugo didn’t intend on getting back together with you, but he enjoyed the phenomenal sex, and so did you. You held so much contempt for him now, but there was no reason why you couldn’t just agree to the terms of his compact.

Exes with benefits, only now with a few additions of your own.

No dates, no flirty chatter outside of your arrangements, nothing that could potentially steer you the wrong way towards forgiving him yet again, because like you told your friends: you were a pushover, and Bakugo was a sweet talker. That was a combination destined for hell.

Your revelation was exactly how you ended up sleeping with Bakugo again. Your sex life was practically a Dr. Seuss book. The two of you would have sex in his car, in the bathroom at a bar, and you’d have sex here, there, and pretty much anywhere.

When you first called him up, he answered almost immediately, somewhat excited to see your contact after going without speaking to each other for nearly a week. After you acceded, he snorted, wondering if you were conspiring.

“Are you fucking scheming something? Cooking up some devious shit to get me alone so you can kill me? Suffocate me while I’m sleeping? You’re goddamn insane.”

You rolled your eyes aggravated. “No. Are you down, or do you wanna pussy out now?”

Bakugo agreed, and both of you managed to keep things fairly cordial. Well, as cordial as they could possibly be, given your shared history. You couldn’t care less about the differences and arguments you had when you guys were in bed. If anything, you preferred it when Bakugo was angry at you, pissed at something you had said or just releasing pent up stress that built up over the week. That only made the sex filthier.

Although Bakugo wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, that didn’t mean he didn’t hold some affection for you, and perhaps still even vice versa. He was possessive over you regardless, even if it meant coming dangerously close to breaching the contract. Especially when he caught you one night with Deku at an on-campus movie screening in the park.

After the fiasco at your apartment with you and Deku, you apologized sincerely to him a couple of days later in class. Deku took no hard feelings to your blunder, and he nodded at the mild rejection when you clarified that things would be best if the two of you stayed friends. He reassured you that he was fine, and he was far too occupied for a relationship of any sort anyway.

But Bakugo wasn’t aware that you two had already tested the waters and decided it was sink rather than swim.

When he spotted you alone sitting on a blanket, he strolled over, wearing a sardonic grin. He struck up a superficial conversation that quickly dissipated once Deku returned with the snacks you two planned on sharing.

Your grin when Deku arrived didn’t compare to the indifferent smile you gave Bakugo when he approached you, and he noticed. His eyes narrowed at your green-haired friend as burning rage coursed through his veins.

“Deku, this is Bakugo,” you said, uninterested in Bakugo’s presence while you took the bag of sour candy Deku offered to you.

Deku smiled at Bakugo, extending his hand to exchange a handshake, but Bakugo simply slapped his hand away dismissively.

“Whatever,” Bakugo jeered, his jaw rooted, before he diverted his attention back to you. “See you later, dumbass.”

He left without a fight, but you knew he wouldn’t put the memory past him, and the following night, all of Bakugo’s anger came bubbling out. The way his brain operated was fascinating, especially since he knew that you two had no romantic commitments to each other, that’s what you agreed on, but finally seeing you over him with someone who he assumed was your new interest turned him crazed.

Bakugo held a painful fistful of your hair, pushing your face into the mattress while he wrecked you. He forced himself into you from behind, muffling your screams with the pillow while he rammed into you relentlessly. Every thrust was vicious, exhibiting the full height of his temper.

“You’re mine, do you understand that? You’re mine to touch, mine to ruin. If anyone else puts their hands on you, I swear I’ll beat them within an inch of their life.”

Bakugo hated to admit it, especially since he knew admitting it turned him into the hypocritical dick of the year, but he enjoyed having you chase after him like a lovelorn puppy. You clung to his side, and you were there at his beck and call. He’d always hated being emotionally tied down, hence his apprehension toward serious relationships, but the way you took advantage of the freedom to see other men made him livid.

“Maybe if I really did put a baby in you other people wouldn’t be such a fucking pain. What do you think?”

Bakugo’s pace didn’t let up as his grip on your hair tightened, and he pulled you upright until your head rested back on his shoulder.

“Answer me,” he demanded, dangerously.

All you could muster were broken sobs. You had never seen Bakugo like this, and you were willing to avow that after discounting your fear and pain, it was hot, and you were slightly intrigued.

Bakugo secured his hand around your neck, allowing his fingers to dig into the side of your throat, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you which let you know he was close, but he wasn’t making any efforts to slow down any time soon.

“The thought of you with him makes me want to fucking vomit. You know he’ll never be able to make you feel like I do,” he snarled against your ear. “No one will.”

You choked out a meager “I know” while your vision grew blurrier from the lack of oxygen to your head.

You came first and then Bakugo came shortly after, claiming you by pumping you full with his hot seed until you collapsed on the bed from overexhaustion.

You realized then, through the cloudiness of your thoughts came a single conviction: that your relationship with Bakugo was an endless cycle. You’d taken every romantic risk for Bakugo while he risked nothing. That’s how you remained foolish for so long, so naive. You refused to learn over and over again, and you sacrificed yourself in the process. 

Once Bakugo threw you modest praise and disappeared into the bathroom, you gave way to the enormity of your despair. Your tears were silent and persistent until your breathing turned ragged while humiliation and resentment burned just beneath your skin.

You were smitten with someone who was bad at romance. Your love was a fairytale, but not everyone believed in fairytales, meaning that was both the birth and death of your chronicle. Fairytales were only real if you believed they were.

Bakugo continued to give you reasons to leave and seek out the love you deserved, but you took momentary bliss as your excuse for staying, like a lovesick fool or like an addict dying from overdose. You wish he would at least give you something to hold onto, like false hope or a pretty lie, but you knew that’s all you’d ever be able to do: wish that things were different so you two could have grown into something beautiful.

[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Chapter 3

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: angst, mention of violence, slow burn Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Okay -- that little pep talk you had given yourself was slowly dying as you walked into work the next day. Suddenly, nervousness was replacing it all, washing over you quickly.

You didn’t exactly know what to say. The extent of conversation you’d ever had with Steve was reserved to you saying “here’s your order” and he’d promptly respond with that shining smile and the most meaningful thank you. 

Bringing up the fact his ex-assassin best friend was your long-lost was just not any kind of coffee shop chatter. 

You were trying to ponder it during the morning rush. Mindlessly making lattes and frappes, you worked on some kind of script that could be thrown together. But your thoughts were interrupted by the bell over the door ringing. This wasn’t unusual giving it being early morning but for some reason, your eyes shot up — landing right on the man you were anticipating. 

As always, he looked so casual yet so large waiting in the back of the line. Eyes wandered over him shamelessly but Steve genuinely didn’t seem to notice. He kept his forward, browsing the menu as if he ever got anything but a large black coffee. You just knew it because, well, it was the easiest order you ever served up. Like the world giving you a break. 

Knowing his order brought some advantages for you. Since he was one of the few people actually ordering straight-up coffee in the morning -- the shop was quite frequented by college students and young entrepreneurs -- you simply didn’t start the coffee pot that morning. Your plan was to start it right after he ordered giving him a wait time of about thirty minutes. Possibly annoying for him, a great chance for you. He’d be forced to wait at the bar and you could chat. Chat about what, though, you still didn’t know. You couldn’t exactly dive in. 

But you weren’t given much more time to plan. Steve was at the cashier before you knew it. You waited, watched as he paid, and then clicked the coffee pot on.

You walked over to the pick-up area. “Sorry,” you said. Steve turned to you. “It’s going to be a few minutes. I had to put on a new pot of coffee but you’re welcome to wait at the bar area.”

Steve gave you a small smile. “That’s fine,” he said and made his way to a stool. Your plan was rolling out perfectly. Now if you could only figure where to take it from here.

You leaned against the counter, watching the pot brew and waiting for another order to come through. Secretly you had hoped some big, ridiculous latte request would come in but so far the customers and seemed to die down. You couldn’t do much but stand across from Steve who was looking around at the decor. 

The machine was about half full when you finally decided to open your mouth to at least say something -- but Steve beat you to it.

“Is everything okay?” He asked. Your eyes widened. 

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry,” Steve coughed and readjusted his posture. “I just meant, you look like something is bothering you. Are you okay?”

You couldn’t do this today, you realized. Your brain suddenly went on a mission finding some lie to pop out. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you dismissed his comment with a wave of your hand. “I- I Just… Didn’t sleep well last night.”

Alright. Your lie suddenly was dripping with subconscious truth. You cringed at your own words, rubbing your forehead with two fingers. This was the dumbest idea you had ever had and now you were forced to see it out as the coffee pot suddenly felt like it was brewing at half-speed.

“Oh,” Steve frowned but leaned forward, a bit intrigued. “Unpleasant dreams?”

You sighed, “You could say that.”

“Were they from…” His words trailed off unusually. The discussion of soulmates was somewhat of an accepted one. Usually, just in hopes that one could lead them to their significant other.

Steve, however, seemed leery about the subject. You were certainly in the same boat. That let you relax just ever so slightly. 

“My soulmate?” You blurted out the question. Steve nodded, slowly. “Yeah, they were. He… he hasn’t seen very nice things in his lifetime.”

It felt so weird talking about Steve’s best friend while Steve most likely knew nothing about who you were referring to. It was like a giant weight in the conversation for you. You wanted to blurt it out, wanted to maybe meet your other half and just see what everything was about, see who he  really  is but it felt so heavy on your chest. It just wasn't right yet. You'd get a sign, you knew. Then you'd proceed but not here, not today.

Steve sighed, his gaze dropping to his hands that were resting on the counter. “No, I don’t think he has.”

Your stomach dropped. Did -- Was he -- Did he know who you were talking about? Steve no longer would meet your gaze but your eyes grew wide again in possible realization -- or... maybe you were just being absolutely paranoid. Perhaps he didn’t even say that and you misheard him -- 

DING. The coffee machine rang making you jump in surprise. You forgot for a second where the hell you two even were. Steve’s eyes fell on you again but you quickly turned to the coffee, refusing to let him see your blushing, flustered state. 

He knew. He had to know. Or at least he guessed. But how could he know? Steve wasn’t in yesterday, he wouldn’t have witnessed your panic. Did your co-worker tell him? When the hell would she have done that? Maybe… Maybe Bucky knew… What did he know then of you? And if he did, why wasn’t he here? Steve knew you so what the fuck was happening… 

Your mind was a maze. A painful, winding maze. You could feel yourself trying to make it through the thoughts and theories but nothing was working. You forced yourself to push it all down, just for the rest of your shift. 

Continuing, you quickly filled Steve’s to-go cup and placed it on the counter. He didn’t take it right away, opting to stare at the cup for a second. You pretended not to notice and instead began grinding espresso beans for a latte order that came in. 

“It’ll get better,” Steve said, making your motions still completely. Such a simple thing that could mean so much. Was he offering comfort? A taunt? Your brain was back at it again. 

You forced yourself to look up, wanting so badly to say just one more thing, maybe even plead and confess it all, but he was already gone. You felt like crying as you went back to brewing the beans. That unmistakable, inescapable tinge of heartache filled your chest.

***

It’ll get better. Steve’s words rang in your head tauntingly as you laid in bed that night. Staring at the ceiling, you had been trying to fall asleep for over an hour now hoping this “better” Steve spoke of was right around the corner. 

So far, though, no luck. Tonight’s flicks were of an older kind, thankfully still not as powerful as the more modern ones, but the images didn’t get any better. They were quick looks, sure, but violence and bodies, a horrendous combination produced horrendous results. The feelings behind it went straight to your soul. 

You gave up even trying to decide what the hell this memory could’ve been from. You didn’t want to register the potential victim’s faces. You didn’t care about the scenery and whatnot. 

The better had not come yet — whatever the hell  that  actually was which Steve had promised. 

He knew something. Something very deep and useful for this situation. It was laced in his words and written on his concerned face. 

Or maybe you were going crazy. The more you thought about it, the less it all made sense. 

There was just that hope you were able to go off of now. That hope of “better.” That hope of fate. 

Hope was your only weapon against the heart-wrenching memories flooding their way into your brain as your eyes were forced to give in, too heavy and defeated from today. 

It was maybe all you had at this point and the whiplash of life was certainly throwing you a new one.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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[thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters]

Nothing Like You

Summary: Sam’s usually not the pining kind. He’s put his feelings for you aside some time ago. A chance encounter brings everything back, but this time things are different and Sam is done pretending.

Created for: @princessmisery666​ ‘s Daily Mix Challenge

Prompt: ‘Nothing Like This’ by Blonde and Craig David

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Sam is smitten, bad humor on my part

Word count: 1.5K

A/N: Stacey, you absolutely wonderful darling of an angel, thank you for being you. As promised, here’s my entry for your challenge. Hope you like it <3

Beta: @slytherkins​ (So are you, btw. Wonderful. Amazing. A gift.)

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(gif)

Sam hadn’t seen you since that hunt in Mississippi. The one where he almost kissed you. Dean had ripped him a new one when they were back in Baby, on their way home to the bunker. He had seen the look in Sam’s eyes whenever they were focused on you and Dean knew his little brother well enough to recognize what it had meant. It was the first time in a while they had met a new pair of hunters they worked well with. Seeing as they always had a new fight ahead of them, it would be nice to be able to continue calling the couple their allies. However, as Dean had told Sam that night in the car, staying on good terms with their new acquaintances wouldn’t be an option anymore if the guy caught Sam drooling over his girlfriend.

It hadn’t been like Sam at all to fall for someone so fast and so hard. Out of him and his brother, he was usually better at keeping things professional whenever needed. And with you already being in a relationship, this had definitely been the case. Yet, there was something about you, something about the way you made him feel, that had convinced him the two of you were meant to be more than just friends. But that was then, and despite his silent hoping, you hadn’t crossed paths since.

Until he found himself back in Mississippi and back in your presence. Sam wasn’t quite sure what it was about the southern state and running into you, but he wasn’t complaining.

A haunting at a mansion had brought you both to the same city. You’d both shown up to the crime scene where the victim was lying in a pool of her own blood - not exactly the kind of setting in which Sam had hoped he would see you again.

The victim left behind a distraught husband and two children, who had all said they’d noticed some cold spots but hadn’t seen anything strange. The family’s staff hadn’t been able to help you out either. Though, they did mention something that was of interest to the two faux FBI-agents: one of the staff members had unexpectedly quit earlier that day.

After having asked around a bit, they found out the best way to get a hold of their possible witness was to visit him at the nightclub he frequented on the weekends. 

“We should probably make sure we blend in a little more before we head into a place like that,” you had suggested while heading back to your respective cars. 

“I’d do anything you say,” Sam had kept to himself while he watched you drive off to your motel.

Another thing he hadn’t mentioned was the lack of backup you had shown up with. For just a second, he had allowed himself to think maybe you weren’t with Rowan anymore. But he knew there were plenty of reasons why the other hunter hadn’t joined you on this simple hunt. After all, Dean hadn’t come with Sam on this one either, simply because he had been called elsewhere. The same could just as easily have been true for your boyfriend.

Inside the club, it was even louder than Sam had expected when the two of you entered. Music was blasting from every direction and people were talking loudly while moving along on the dancefloor to the beat. Sam had changed out of his fed suit and into some worn out jeans and a gray shirt. He hadn’t exactly been sure what you had meant by ‘blending in’ to a place like this, since this kind of scene had never been his thing.

Luckily, you hadn’t gone all out, either. Unluckily, you didn’t have to do much to drive Sam crazy. Your pantsuit had been traded in for a playful light blue dress that hung loosely around your frame, reaching just above your knees. Your hair was down for a change, only a few strands being pinned up and secured at the back of your head. With your line of work, you always had your hair tied where it couldn’t get in the way. Sam had never seen your locks catch in the wind like they’d done outside before they entered the nightclub. He’d been unaware he had been staring until you put a hand on his shoulder and asked him if he was ready to head inside.

How he’d made it inside and onto the dancefloor with you, he couldn’t quite remember. But somehow he had ended up in front of you, surrounded by a bunch of people moving in ways that might’ve even made Dean blush.

“Sam,” you called over the music. “Sam, hey!” Your hand was waving in front of his face and eventually he managed to focus his eyes back on yours. “You’re all stiff!” you said, laughing.

Sam’s eyes grew wide with panic and his head shot down so fast it should’ve given him whiplash. His face burned red as he looked down at his crotch but nothing seemed to be going on down there. In front of him, your laughing became louder.

Your hand reached for his chin to push his head back up and make him look at you. “I meant your dancing,” you said, clearly trying to suppress another fit of laughter. “Loosen up a bit, we’re trying to look like we’re supposed to be here, remember?”

Sam’s cheeks burned an even brighter red as he felt your hand fall from his face and move to his arm, sliding all the way down until you could wrap your hand around his. You grabbed his other hand as well, and when Sam realized you were trying to pull his body into motion, he did his best to attempt something that might have been viewed by some people as dancing. If those people were squinting, from a couple miles away, and it was completely dark.

You laughed again and Sam almost wanted to just keep embarrassing himself so he could keep hearing that wonderful sound. No doubt people around you were watching him struggle, too. But all he could focus on was you, that was all that mattered to him in that moment.

Undoubtedly realizing your attempts weren’t doing much so far, you changed tactics by placing your hands on his waist and moving closer to him. You beckoned him to lean in and Sam dipped his head so he could hear you better.

“Try to relax,” you instructed him with that sweet voice of yours. “Just follow my lead.”

With that, your body started moving and Sam wouldn’t have been able to resist moving along with you if he had wanted to. Which he definitely, one hundred percent, did not.

Your bodies moved in sync, perfectly fitting against each other as the music blasted on in the background. Everything around you faded away until it was just him and you. Sam let you guide him effortlessly and tried to loosen up like you told him.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. You made him feel a certain way, a way he hadn’t experienced before. It was killing him not to act on it. The way you were moving against him wasn’t helping much, either.

“Where’d you learn to move like…” Sam’s voice trailed off as he looked at you, his eyes darkening, “...this.”

You grinned at him, causing his heart to be flung right out of his chest. “We all have our ways to blow off steam,” you explained, moving your lips closer to his ear so you wouldn’t have to speak as loud. “I used to go out like this a lot when I first started hunting.”

“With your boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyfriend.” You barely missed a beat.

The simple word could have just been plain information, a life-update to a friend who hadn’t caught up yet. But there was this look in your eyes that told Sam you meant something different by telling him.

After all this wondering, and thinking ‘what if’, Sam wasn’t sure if he should act so fast. Then he saw you raise an eyebrow, and your bottom lip was sucked between your teeth as you looked straight into his eyes.

All the doubt that had forced him to hold back was thrown out the window in a single motion. He finally let go and his large hands grabbed your ass to pull you even closer against him. Your hands moved to his neck and in an instant, your lips were on his. He kissed you hungrily, music drowning out even further into the background. All Sam could hear was the pounding in his ears and the sweet sounds you made when his teeth tugged at your bottom lip.

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[amysteryspot]

Better With You - Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Request: If you can could you please do one about Tommy having a sort of possessive claim over you (not in an abusive way of course) even though you’ve never looked at him in that way, and when Michael comes into the family again you two get close, which makes Tommy extremely jealous.

Requested by: Anonymous

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Summary: Thomas has known (Y/N) for all of her life and loved her for most part of his, always disguising his claim on her as friendly protectiveness. What happens when Michael makes his way back into the family and starts to get a little too close to her for Tommy’s liking?

Warnings: swearing, mentions of war, mild smut (?).

Word Count: 3526

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. Hope you all have fun reading it too. An especial thank to @the-friendly-editor​ for helping me edit this, it meant a lot to me. Tags are at the end of the post, if you want to be add send me a message. I would love to hear what you think of it, your feedback is always appreciated.

 Things you should consider before reading this:

1. I named the Shelby’s mother Anastasia because I felt like I needed to do that. Also, I know that there is a lot of discussion about Finn and the rest of the Shelbys having the same mother or not. I just assumed that they all have the same mother and she died a little after giving birth to Finn. It is not something groundbreaking for the fic but I wanted to clarify just in case.

2. The boys went to war right at the beginning of it; I just ignored the information given to us by “The Ballad of Tommy Shelby”.

3. I probably forgot to warn you about something, I’m sorry.

 (Y/N) = Your Name | (Y/N/N) = Your Nickname | (Y/L/N) = Your Last Name | (Y/E/C) = Your Eye Color

If you asked Tommy how long he had known (Y/N) (Y/L/N), he wouldn’t know how to answer—fuck, it seemed like the woman had been in his life forever.

He remembered the day his mother had brought him to the (Y/L/N)’s house for them to meet the new baby. Four-year-old Tommy had complained all the way to their neighbor’s house, much to his older brother’s amusement, until their mother had given him a scolding. (Y/N)’s birth had been the talk of Watery Lane. They finally had a sweet little girl for the neighborhood to dote on.

With two sons, Anastasia was more than happy to welcome the little girl into their lives, not so secretly longing to have a daughter, and that was the reason for Tommy to be fussing over going to see the newborn—jealousy.

However, nothing could have prepared little Tommy for what was about to happen when his mother sat him down on the couch and Mrs. (Y/L/N) put the bundle of covers in his arms—his icy blue eyes stared down at baby (Y/N), who stopped crying instantly when she looked up at him with bright (Y/E/C) eyes of her own. From that moment on, Tommy knew that he would always love her.

And love her he did, since that day and throughout all of their lives. He would raise hell at home for his mother to bring him to the (Y/L/N)’s home so he could see (Y/N), and the three adults would all be astonished at how easily the baby would stop crying when she was in his arms. It wasn’t really a surprise that the first word she babbled was “Tom” or that when she started walking, on wobbly feet, it was Tommy she was seeking.

As they grew up, they grew closer, until it became almost impossible to have one without the other. When Ada was born, Tommy was worried about the possibility that (Y/N) would forget about him, that she would be too enchanted by having another girl around. Instead, as the time passed, he discovered that his little sister was one more reason for (Y/N) to spend more time at the Shelby home.

Even when he started messing around with the boys on the street, and she befriended other girls at school, they would still seek each other out whenever they could. They stuck together when their teenage years came, when Tommy started fooling around with girls from school and secretly scaring down most of the boys that showed any interest in (Y/N).

At least, he did until the day she came crying to him about not being good enough or pretty enough for anybody, not like the girls he would go out with, and breaking his heart; that certainly wasn’t what he had in mind when chasing down the boys. All he had wanted was to protect her, to make sure that she wouldn’t exchange him for some other boy. He wanted to ensure that she was his and his only.

That was actually the reason that led to their first kiss—her first kiss—(Y/N/N) had asked him, pleaded with him, through all the tears to just kiss her and get it done. Fifteen-year-old (Y/N) was sure that nobody would ever want her, and she wanted to experience it at least once. She told Tommy he was the only one she trusted with the task.

“It will mean nothing to you, Tom. You have kissed a million other girls already—I will just be another one for you—but it’s important to me. Please, Tom? Please, please.”

Her pleas had won him over, but (Y/N)’s words couldn’t have been further from the truth—the kiss had meant something for him. It had meant more than he predicted when he gave in to her begging, because the moment their lips touched, Tommy realized he was in love with his best friend and the worst part was that she didn’t had a fucking clue about it.

Then Tommy did what he did best; he pretended that it never happened, pushing it away and never talking to anyone about the kiss or his feelings. He stopped chasing down the boys who would show interest in (Y/N) and watched as she eventually started going out with some of them, laughing with him about how stupid she was to think that no one would ever like her.

When her first boyfriend got too handsy and she broke up with him—not before giving him a good left hook that left him with a very black eye, just like Tommy had taught her—(Y/N) had gone straight to the Shelby home, looking for comfort in his arms. Tommy pretended that the gnawing feeling in his chest was nothing but brotherly protectiveness instead of anger, jealousy and possessiveness—a destructive combination, especially on a Shelby boy.

(Y/N) had stayed with him that night, and the both of them slept together like they used to when they were kids. First thing in the morning the next day, right after he left her at her own house, he found her now ex-boyfriend and beat him up. Arthur and Freddie had to get him off of the guy, afraid of what he would end up doing if they didn’t stop him.

After that, Tommy had focused on channeling his frustrations into going out with every girl in town that wasn’t her. It wasn’t difficult, he was good looking and charming and he was very aware of it; that’s how he met Greta, and thought that he could get over his feelings for his best friend with her.

Greta’s parents were against their involvement at first, but he charmed them, so they started dating. His heart broke down when (Y/N) found out and showed genuine happiness for him having finally found somebody to settle down with.

Tommy’s plan was to end things between them. However, Greta fell ill and he didn’t have the heart to break up with her, so he stayed by her side until she passed. (Y/N) gave him support in the only way she knew how: by loving him.

Just not in the way he wanted her to.

When they thought that things would go back to normal, the War exploded and Tommy did the only thing he considered right in his eyes: he enlisted alongside his brothers. Their first fight had taken place on the night he told her he was leaving for France in two weeks. (Y/N) had hit and screamed at him until he was able to take a hold on her and then, then she cried in his arms the whole night, afraid that she would lose him forever.

They did the best they could with those two weeks. Once more, nothing could have prepared Tommy for (Y/N)’s appeal the night before he was shipping to France. She had come to him right after dinner. Her father was preparing himself to leave, too, and both of the (Y/L/N) women were enjoying whatever time they had left with him before he was gone.

As they both laid there in his bed, resting in each other’s arms and staring at the ceiling, (Y/N) made the decision that would seal his fate if he could survive the war.

“Make love to me.”

It wasn’t a question, nor a request—she was simply telling him to make love to her like this was the most logical thing in the world. His breath caught in his throat, preventing him from answering at first, and (Y/N/N) took that as a cue to reassure him.

“It will be like my first kiss, Tommy, just something I have to get over with. I want it to be you. I trust you. Let me give you at least one last good memory of me before you go.”

Again, he caved in, not needing much more convincing than the certainty in her eyes as she looked down at him, propped up on one elbow. Her hand rested unintentionally above his heart. Granting her wishes, he let himself dive into his own desires, touching her the way he had wanted since they had kissed for the first time.

He worked her body like a delicate instrument and pulled at her strings smoothly, engraving every beautiful sound that he coaxed out of her and the feel of her under his fingertips in his memory. When morning came, they were still a mess of limbs intertwined together, trying to hold on to a last thread of hope and imprint the last few hours on their memories.

In a way, (Y/N) was right. The boy that entered that train in 1914 wasn’t the same that got out of it in 1918. Yet, his love for her never faltered; it just became a tad more… dangerous.

Thomas lost count of how many letters they had exchanged during the past four years. He lost count of how many times he dreamt of her, of coming back home and telling her how he felt. However, any courage he had gathered vanished the moment he saw her waiting for him at the train station. He couldn’t condemn her to a life by his side, he had already taken enough from her.

Polly had told him in her letters how (Y/N/N) had helped her with the business, with the house, with Finn, and with any other thing she could. Especially after her mother, who had given up on life after Mr. (Y/L/N) was killed in combat, passed. A part of him felt guilty for not being there for her as much as she was for him when his mother passed and his father left.

“She’s a Shelby now.”

That’s what Polly had said when he asked her if (Y/N) had any remaining family.

Not much changed when they returned. (Y/N/N) still worked with them. She spent more time at the Shelby home and the gambling den than at her own place. The two of them still sought each other out, not talking much, but enjoying each other’s company. It was in those quiet moments with her that Tommy had a little peace.

Thomas drowned himself in work to forget it all, wanting to expand the business, unleashing his ambitions so long smothered by the war. They found the guns, in a strike of luck, he thought. Both Polly and (Y/N) advised him to let it go, but he just couldn’t. It was too good of an opportunity.

Campbell had come because of it, and with him, Grace. At the time, he didn’t know who she really was. He thought that the beautiful, blonde barmaid was just that: beautiful and innocent, everything he and his family were not. So he fooled himself, fell for her, and then she betrayed him and left for America.

Again, (Y/N) was there for him, and again, he found himself sinking into his love for her. The only good thing that came from all this mess was that the business was never better. He thought that it was time to start planning for an expansion, and with that came another thing that he hadn’t quite predicted—Michael.

He had planned to find Polly’s children for her. She had been suffering quite a lot lately. Even if people thought that his heart was as good as gone, he wanted his family to be okay. He wanted them to be happy.

Thomas found the boy and he came to Polly, making his way into the family and the business quickly. That included starting to get close to (Y/N) – too fucking close for his liking.

It was supposed to be natural, he knew that. (Y/N) kept the books at the shop. She was better with numbers than most of them, so it was natural that she would be the one to help Michael when he assumed the position of accounts clerk.

After they came back, he learned that (Y/N) had become very good at sneaking around without getting caught. It was rare to see her with any men whose last name wasn’t Shelby, or wasn’t closely related to the Peaky Blinders. That didn’t mean she didn’t have men swooning over her all the time, or that he was finally okay with that—much like when they were teenagers, he wanted to chase them all down—the only difference was now he was more deadly.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

It was Michael’s voice that brought him back to reality, and his gaze fell immediately on the boy. They were all gathered on the snug in the Garrison. (Y/N) was sitting between him and Michael, Tommy’s arm casually rested on her shoulders.

(Y/N) said, “Oh, no, you would totally get it... after a few more weeks.”

Everyone burst out laughing at her remark, but the only thing he could think about was the hand Michael rested on (Y/N)’s thigh. His own hand clenched around his glass before he downed the rest of its contents.

He didn’t notice Polly’s gaze on him. Despite what most people believed, Tommy had never been a good liar. He could get away with omitting information to people and redirecting the conversation, most of the time, but a direct confrontation was a completely different thing. Polly was always able to read him first, to know the things he wasn’t willing to share.

“Maybe we should just hire you instead of Michael, then.” He ignored the look (Y/N) gave him, taking another drag of his cigarette and looking away.

However, he couldn’t miss the lingering touches, or how (Y/N/N) leaned into Michael when he talked to her, and how she was just so comfortable with him. It made his blood boil.

When (Y/N/N) said she wanted to get home he offered to walk her, and was fairly surprised at how she didn’t say a word to him until they reached her front door.

Then she turned to face him, features painted with anger, and asked, “What the hell was that, Tom?”

He actually rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

(Y/N) huffed, turning around to unlock the door before entering the house, leaving it open for him to follow. She went straight to the dressing room, shedding her coat and throwing it at the table with her purse as he followed her closely.

“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

She was taking her shoes off, and Tommy took advantage of the moment to let his eyes follow her movements. God, was he in love with that woman.

“I’m talking about your attitude with Michael at the Garrison. That was completely unnecessary,” She said.

“Someone had to put that boy in his place,” Tommy said.

(Y/N) turned to him then, and he would be worried with that look if he hadn’t been at the receiving end of her anger for so many years.

“Oh, please enlighten me, Thomas. What is his place?” (Y/N) asked.

“For fucks sake, (Y/N/N), he was all over you!”

She rolled her eyes. “He is a boy, Thomas, a boy. He’s family…”

Tommy never thought that what would make him snap would be hearing her say that Michael was family, but apparently it was.

“He’s family, huh?” Thomas said. “He is fucking family! Then he should know better and stay away from you.”

She stared at him for a moment, brow furrowed, as she seemed to put the puzzle together in her head. “Why would he stay away from me, Tom?”

He turned around to face away from her for a moment, rubbing a hand over his face. “No, no. You won’t make me feel guilty for that.”

“Make you feel guilty for what, Tommy?”

He recognized the hint of annoyance on her tone and couldn’t ignore it anymore, the alcohol giving him the courage that he had lost that day on the train station, as he turned around and shouted, “For loving you!”

She held her breath, eyes widening as she stared back at him.

Tommy continued, “Michael should stay away from you because you’re fucking mine and I love you.”

“Tommy, I’m not your property, and you know that I love you…”

“No, you don’t,” he interrupted her, making her look at him with confusion, “You don’t love me the way I love you. The way I’ve loved you since the fucking day you asked me to kiss you when you were fifteen!”

He saw her flinch before murmuring his name, trying to gain his attention but he couldn’t stop now. The truth was finally out there and he just had to go on with it, let it all out before he lost his mind.

“You said to me that it would mean nothing, that it would be just another kiss for me, but you were wrong,” Tommy said, his breaths short.

She looked bewildered, and Tommy held onto a strand of hope he didn’t even know still existed.

“That kiss meant fucking everything. From that day on, I’ve never seen you in the same way as before, because I realized I was in love with you and you didn’t feel the same. So I ignored these feelings while I saw you going out with boys, and I’ve thrown myself into fucking every girl that wasn’t you because I knew I couldn’t have you, not the way I wanted.”

Tommy didn’t notice that he was walking to her until they were just a breath apart.

“Then I found Greta, and I thought that I could forget you, but it only reminded me that you are the only one I want. I was going to break up with her, but she fell ill. You stayed by my side, and just when I thought that I would have a chance to tell you everything, the war happened and I just couldn’t. I couldn’t, because there was no way in hell that I was going to risk going to fight in France and die. I couldn’t leave you here to suffer because of me, either because you felt the same or not.”

“Tommy…” (Y/N)’s voice was all but a whisper.

He couldn’t resist anymore, his hands brought her to him, his eyes observing hers from up close, not giving her time to talk or he would lose his courage.

“I was ready to go there and die, and never let you know how I felt. But you had to give me hope that night before I was shipped off to that fucking hell. You had to…”He took a deep breath, his eyes closing for a brief second, a flood of memories making his heart race faster. “You had to give yourself to me. You had to give me a taste of what I thought I could never have, to make me want to survive the fucking war, to come back to you, and to let you know about all of these stupid feelings.”

Tommy couldn’t wait anymore. He did the one thing he had wanted to since he had returned from France—he kissed her. It wasn’t gentle or patient; no, it was urgent and filled with passion and he didn’t know how to stop, not when she wasn’t pushing him away. He devoured her as a man starved, teeth clashing and hands grabbing at anything they could touch. They were both out of breath when they finally parted.

“You said that you wanted to give me one last good memory and it was that memory that kept me alive during most of the nights when I was stuck in the fucking mud,” Thomas said.

(Y/N)’s fingers were clinging to him like her life depended on it, like she was afraid to lose him to the War again.

Tommy took the moment to let the words spill out. “The memory of you and the feeling of you under my fingers, and all around me, and the way you tasted.”

His lips brushed against hers, fingers clawing at the flesh of her hips like they had done the night before he left for France.

He backed her up against the wall, hands trailing down to the back of her thighs, picking her up and trapping her with his body.

Tommy looked straight to her eyes as he spoke again, “How you writhed under me, all the beautiful sounds you made, and I just wanted to come back to you and make some new memories.”

(Y/N) shivered at his words. She gave him just a brief second to observe the rise and fall of her chest and her expanded pupils before he felt her fingers at the back of his head, forcing him to really look at her as she said, “Then let’s work on those new memories.”

Their lips clashed again, and every doubt that he ever felt vanished for a moment. That night their bodies moved together like old acquaintances, skin sliding against skin, hands gripping at each other, lips kissing every patch of skin while chanting a sinful choir of moans and curses alongside their names.

When Tommy woke up the next day, (Y/N/N) in his arms, he realized that he was finally home.

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @internalmess3

[superfanficnatural]

The Choice Part 11

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Christian Grey x Reader 

Summary: Deciding to get over your crush on Dean, you find Christian, a mysterious billionaire that manages to split your heart into two. Finding out hidden truths, your decision becomes a hard one, who will you choose?

A/N: Hey guys! Been a while but here is the next chapter! A bit slow but this chapter was necessary in order to set some events in place. For everyone who’s stuck with this since the beginning and those who joined later on, thank you so much for reading!! As always, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Slight fluff

Word Count: 2,767

Italics are thoughts

Masterpost

“I-” you didn’t even know where to start, but you found yourself leaning in, and he was reciprocating.

There was always this pull that you had when it came to Dean. No matter what he did, you always found yourself running right back into his arms. Was it weakness? Love? You couldn’t quite place it, like there was this unbreakable string that connected you to him that he always tugged on, bringing you ever closer. His face dimly lit up with the light of his room behind him, the slight bedhead, his perfectly pink plump lips; simply looking at him made all thoughts leave your mind. It had always scared you, not being able to think straight when you were around him, it almost always led to something happening. As you were only centimeters away from his lips, you caught yourself and softly put your hand on his chest to keep him at bay for the moment.

“There’s something you should know... about Christian,” you whispered.

He immediately recoiled, taking a step back and sighing angrily, “I don’t care about Christian! Is there no way that we can just spend 5 minutes without that douchebag’s name coming up?” he barked.

“Dean I understand your frustration but-”

“Do you, Y/N? Do you really understand how infuriating it is to see you with him?” his eyes were lit with fire and they were aimed right at you.

You looked at him for a moment, what you were going to tell him being put on the backburner for now, “You-” you began to chuckle unable to help it, falling into a fit of laughter, Dean becoming confused. “You’re telling me that I don’t understand how angry it makes you when seeing me with other guys?” your voice was progressively getting louder and louder. “How the fuck do you think I’ve felt for years every time you fucked some other random girl after picking them up at a bar? How do you think I felt when you had finally admitted your feelings for me, then I found you once again kissing another girl at the bar?!” 

He was completely silent, shocked at your words, shocked at how he hadn’t realized that you were only doing to him what he had been doing to you for years. Your face was red and your body was heaving with your breaths, the pent up anger you had been holding in being unleashed all at once. His mouth had opened and closed several times, Dean trying to figure out what to say; but he was stumped. 

You solemnly nodded your head, “That’s what I thought.”

You stepped out of the room and grabbed the door handle, just before closing it, “By the way, Leila Williams? The girl who tried to kill me? Yeah well Christian had actually hired her to seduce you and get you to fall out of love with me. How well that went right?” without so much as an explanation to the bombshell you had dropped on him, you had slammed the door and stomped away to your room. 

Sam had poked his head out of his door, curious as to what the ruckus was but after one look at your face walking past him, he knew exactly what had happened and sighed, closing his door and going back inside. Once you had reached your room, you closed the door behind you and threw your phone onto your bed, pacing around a bit and running your fingers through your hair. What the hell have I gotten myself into? I thought that Christian was the perfect guy, but turns out he has a darkness to him that I hadn’t seen before. At first, you thought it was seductive, a deep carnal blackness he held back, only releasing it when he felt the need to do so. It excited you, everytime you were with him you were secretly hoping that he would claim you, unleashing it to swallow you whole. However, looking at it now, it was much more than that. Instead of claiming you as his, he actively tried to make sure that no one else could meddle in his plans. As if he had planned it out entirely. Get rid of Dean, she’ll come running right into my arms, and I will never allow her to leave. The idea of belonging to someone, as intriguing as it is, it goes both ways. You didn’t know if you wanted to be owned, and not own him just as much. To have Christian make all of your decisions for you? Absolutely not.

Bzz

You turned your head to look at your phone on your bed, Christian’s name on the screen. You walked over and sat on your bed, holding the phone up, pondering whether you should answer or not. Eventually the decision was made for you as it had stopped ringing and he had gone to voicemail. Letting go of your phone next to you, you fell back onto the bed with a huge sigh and dramatically threw your arm over your eyes.

“Y/N? Open the door,” Dean had commanded sharply after knocking on your door.

“Can men just leave me alone for 5 fucking minutes?!” you silently shouted under your breath.

Grumbling to yourself, you stalked up to the door and unlocked it, opening it to find Dean standing in the doorway with an unreadable expression. He walked forward into the room, forcing you to step back. Though he didn’t stop, he kept walking, looking right into your eyes, and you couldn’t do anything but keep walking backwards. Eventually, your back hit the wall and there was nowhere for you to go, Dean getting closer and closer until eventually he reached you. He was mere inches away and he had looked down at you, slowly bringing his left arm up to put on the right side of your head.

“I’m done playing games,” he spoke softly, yet with a steeled resolve behind them. “I am in love with you.”

You nearly gasped, Dean never speaks of his feelings and for him to bare himself to you right here and saying those words with zero hesitation was something that shook you to your core. 

“I’ve been in love with you from the first goddamn day I met you and I’ve been fighting these feelings for so long, sweetheart,” he brought his free hand up and softly caressed your cheek. “I refused to make you a target, refused to lose the one person I love most in this world. And I know, I know that I should have told you sooner, but you know me, sweetheart, I’m never good at timing. It’s just,” he sighed, “seeing you with him, it killed me.” His eyes were shining with nothing but genuine sorrow and truth. 

His gaze was so intense that you looked down, unable to even fathom the feelings that were building in your chest. He refused to let you shy away, cupping your chin and tilting your head up, leaving you no choice but to look right at him. 

“I am in love with you, and no one will ever change that. Not Leila, not Christian, no one, ok?” 

You slightly nodded as best as you could with his hand on your chin, unable to even form words.

He smiled lovingly and leaned down to kiss your lips softly, your eyes closing at the tenderness he offered you. Pulling away after a few moments, he took a step back and moved to sit on the bed, patting the spot next to him.

“Now, tell me everything, please.”

The entire time that you had known Dean, you had always known him as someone who had no idea how to put his feelings into words. He’s always been the expressionist, the emotion he projects in his eyes always telling you everything you needed to know. Now, he’s managed to finally break through that barrier and articulate what he was feeling. Smiling softly, you nodded and sat down on the bed next to him, not ignoring the feeling you got when your knee brushed his. 

“I... might have played Christian on our date,” his eyebrow quirked.

“And how exactly did you ‘play’ him?” he asked, curiosity peaked.

“Well, I paid someone to pretend they were choking so I could get my hands on his phone and check his texts...” you hesitantly revealed, hoping he wouldn’t think you were a psychopath.

Though, to your surprise, he bursted out laughing, throwing his head back, “You-” he was barely breathing, “you went through all that just to get into his phone? Damn, Y/N! Remind me to never hide stuff from you.”

You laughed with him, appreciating the lighthearted energy in the room for a moment before continuing, “Yeah, well turns out, he was actually texting Leila. Based on what she was saying, I’m pretty sure she’s an ex girlfriend of his.”

“So he had told her to try and seduce me, but instead, she tried to kill you to have Christian to herself?” Dean questioned, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he tried to piece everything together. 

You nodded solemnly, “Yup,” you said, popping the p, “I know Christian has good intentions and I really do believe that he has feelings for me.” You paused with a sigh, “But there’s a completely different side of him that he’s hiding from me, and I can’t be with someone like that.”

Dean looked at you in shock, “Even after everything, you’re still capable of not despising him? I’m starting to worry about your mental health, Y/N.”

You punched him in the shoulder with a laugh, “Shut up. What else am I supposed to think? I really like him and even though he had hired Leila, it wasn’t a violent thing, more possessive. The second he found out she was involved in actually trying to hurt me, he threatened her and promised that he would send her to jail.” Dean tried his best to hide his jealousy and anger but you could always see through him, “Dean, I’m sorry if I’m talking about Christian so much with you-”

“Y/N, it’s fine, really,” he responded with a small smile forming on his lips.

“...really?” you quirked, your eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

He barked a small laugh and got up, “Talk about Christian all you want, but I’m going to be the one that you fall in love with, not him.

Without so much as another word or even a second to let you respond, he left the room and closed the door behind him. 

...WHAT

Your mouth was agape and you were staring at the door wide eyed, your mind racing a million miles an hour yet not a single coherent thought was processing in your head. Did he just say he was going to make me fall in love with him? A blush slowly rose up to your cheeks and a giddy feeling had risen in your chest. God I feel like I’m some dumb girl in high school. Before you could start screaming into your pillow, your phone began to ring next to you, picking it up, you saw Christian’s name light up on the screen. 

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you answered, “Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s so nice to hear your voice,” Christian breathed from the other side of the line.

You could almost hear the smile in his voice and although you tried to fight it, it warmed your heart a bit, “Is there something wrong?”

“No, no! Nothing at all!” he rushed out, sounding extremely nervous. You heard a deep breath on the other line before he spoke up once again, “I know you must hate me for what I did, and I completely deserve it, but I’m done hiding. If you want to know the real me, all of me, I’ll show you, if that is what you want.”

The coincidence was uncanny, to think you were seconds away from breaking it off with him unless he had shown you every part of him, to him offering you the chance was something that baffled you. There was no chance that you were going to miss out on this, everyone makes mistakes, and although this was a big one, he’s trying to make up for it in the best way that he can. 

“It is,” you simply responded.

The relief in his voice was abysmal, “Perfect,” he tried to hide his happiness but didn’t do a very good job at it, “my plane will be at the airstrip at 3pm, if you still want to give me another chance and get to know me, it’ll take you right to my private airstrip. I’ll pick you up from there.”

“Alright Christian, but just know, this is your last chance, I’m not the type of person to give more than a second chance,” you made it clear that this was his last chance, done playing games with men who couldn’t tell you anything straight.

“Of course, I’m just thankful that you’re offering me this chance, you will not regret it. I will show you the parts of me that I’ve been hiding, but I must warn you, there are things that you might not like.”

Based on what had happened on your first “date”, you had a feeling that you knew exactly what it was, and it excited you, “I understand, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” he said before hanging up the phone. 

You plugged your phone into it’s charger and placed it onto the nightstand next to your bed, throwing your head back onto your pillow and looking up at the ceiling. Why can’t I just choose? Stupid heart falling in love with two guys that honestly are probably going to treat you horribly, Y/N. Your brain told you that you needed to pack your shit and get the hell out of dodge, but your heart told you to stay, and gave you hopes of an amazing life with both of the men in your life. Though, it’s not that easy; Dean, or Christian. In terms of who would be the perfect boyfriend, you would have to give that honor to Christian, but in terms of what they made you feel, Dean is the one who takes the cake. Not to say you didn’t feel anything for Christian, maybe because you’ve known Dean much longer? Also, Christian has no idea that you’re a hunter. I’ve been on his ass about hiding parts of himself but he still doesn’t know that I’m a hunter. What kind of person does that make me? But after everything you had been through with both of these men, a part of you also says to choose neither, and just move on with your life. Though you had a feeling that neither of them would make that easy, Dean would find you anywhere in the world and Christian could just get on his private jet and fly to anywhere you try to go. A choice it is then. Tomorrow, you were going to tell Christian the truth about who you were as well, and if he didn’t want to be with you any longer, then that is his choice. He deserves the truth just as much as I do from him. 

After a few more minutes of thinking, you got up and walked over to the bathroom, taking off your clothes and turning on the warm water. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you took that time to reflect on yourself. Tracing every scar on your body with your fingers, your eyes raking over your features. Why do Dean and Christian like me so much? Both of them could get any woman that they wanted, hell, they probably already have. What makes me so special? You couldn’t find an answer, but in reality, you didn’t want to try. Because if you did, and found nothing, it would shatter you. Shaking those thoughts from your head, you turned and went into the small cubicle, letting the warm spray run over you. You took a relatively quick shower, feeling pretty tired and wanting nothing more than to crawl under the covers and get some shut eye. After you had dried yourself off, you put on your pajamas and turned the light of before getting under the covers. Closing your eyes, before you had completely fallen asleep, the last thing that went through your mind was Dean, and him telling you that you were going to fall in love with him. 

Next Part

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp @shadowsinger11 @donnaintx @flamencodiva @impalawrites @talesmaniac89 @malfoysqueen14 @wonder-cole​ @downanddirtydean​

SPN Forevers Tag List: @deanwanddamons @waywardbeanie @anathewierdo @janicho88 @katehuntington @whatareyousearchingfordean @emoryhemsworth @winchest09 @smol-and-grumpy @jensengirl83

Dean/Jensen Forevers Tag List: @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @deandreamernp

Female Reader Tag List (All Fandoms): @punof-agun

Tag List for The Choice: @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @spnfamily-j2 @greenarrowhead @vicmc624 @pie-with-hunters @m-winchester-67 @ellewritesfix05

[silksandcravats]

Love Language Series: Words of Affirmation with Flip

masterlist

love language series masterlist

warnings: swearing, female-reader, end of friendship,

It was a nasty fight, and everyone who was in the Colorado Springs’ Howard Johnson’s that day for lunch got to witness it, including Flip. You hadn’t even expected to see her today, after all, it had been quite some time since you’ve seen her last.

One of your closest friends had recently thrown herself entirely into her new relationship and you were happy for her, at least at first. You’d found your other half in Flip, your wedding was the best day of your life and of course you’d want that for your friends! But you quickly became suspicious of the mystery man when you met him in person. You could tell by your friend’s behaviour that she wasn’t totally comfortable with him, she couldn’t be herself. You watched as she slowly shifted into someone else, just last week she’d gone dancing three times, and she hated dancing. 

Flip was just finishing up paying for the check when she came in, on the arm of the man you’d grown to hate. Immediately you knew something was wrong, she looked so...tired. He leaned in to say something in her ear and she smiled at him, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. The couple moved to the corner of the counter, probably waiting for a takeaway order, and that was when you saw it. Her left hand came up to fiddle with the earrings she was wearing, and your eyes were drawn to a big shiny diamond sitting on her ring finger.

You must have made some kind of audible noise of shock because Flip’s head perked up, his brows furrowed, and then the detective followed your line of vision and seemed to catch on. No way she was engaged? She knew him for all of a month! You knew she was eager to settle down, but this was absolutely absurd. 

The waitress spoke some words to the couple, probably informing them it would be another minute or two on their order based on the current state of the restaurant. Your friend’s apparent fiance mumbled something to her, pressed a kiss to her cheek and excused himself, moving towards the mens room. The second she was alone you shot up from your seat, and before you could stop yourself you were marching up to your friend. 

“I know that’s not a fucking wedding ring?” A bold introduction to be sure, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Well hello to you too y/n, yes, it is. Burt proposed at the country club this past weekend, pretty isn’t it?” She smiled briefly, holding it up and staring at it. For some reason it almost sounded like she was convincing herself more than you.

“Well-uh yes, it’s very pretty,” you acknowledged, fumbling for the words you were looking for. How could this have happened? “Little soon though no?”

“I don’t think so.” She shook her head quickly. “I mean I’ve been dreaming of getting married since I was a little girl. You know that y/n, I thought you’d be happy for me,” she frowned, she looked disappointed in you.

“Of course, I want you to be happy! but,” you paused, looking behind you to make sure he was still nowhere to be seen. “You’re both so different. I just don’t think he’s the one, I want better for you, that’s all.”

“Well what the hell am I supposed to do with that y/n?” she snapped. Her temper has apparently shortened greatly since you’d seen her last.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” you backtracked quickly. “I know how important this is to you and that’s why I want you to be with someone perfect for you!”

“Alright, well why don’t you go hand this back to him!” She pulled her engagement ring off, slamming it on the counter. “Since you seem to know my life better than I do, huh?”

“No-no I didn’t mean-”

“God this is all so like you ya know?” She was basically yelling now, and you were sure more than a few eyes had turned to look at you. “You are so selfish y/n, do you know that? You claim to care about your friends so much but the second anyone else has any chance at happiness, however fleeting, you gotta go and shoot em down to make you feel better about yourself!” 

“I can’t believe you would say that,” you whispered, stepping back.

“I should have said it a long time ago!” She continued to yell, her words slicing deep. “You were always such a miserable sorry excuse for a friend, and now you’re going to act like you’re some kind of victim! You’re going to start crying like the slimy, manipulative bitch you are, because I’m the bad guy! Aren’t I y/n?”

You set your jaw, you could feel wetness collecting in your eyes but you didn’t dare let a tear slip. You were practically in a stare off as silence fell over the two of you. If the whole diner wasn’t already watching the two of you, they certainly were now.

“You know what,” you lowered your voice so only she could hear, “I hope you're happy in this trap you’ve set up for yourself. I really do.” 

You didn’t wait for a response, instead you spun on your heel, turning for the door. Flip stood from the booth to follow you, he got to the door and paused, turning to face your ex friend. There were plenty of things he’d like to say in that moment, he felt an intense need to defend you, but he refrained, shaking his head and pushing the door open, following his wife into the parking lot.

You marched towards Flips’ Chevrolet, your mind was reeling, you simply couldn’t believe the events that had just occurred. Her words stung, she must have known they would, they were meant to. You couldn’t wrap your head around how you had lost such a dear friend so suddenly, she had just slipped between your fingers. You weren’t selfish, were you? 

You approached the passenger door and tugged at the handle twice before realising it was still locked. So you crossed your arms, waiting for Flip to catch up and unlock the car.

The car ride was silent, Flip hated it. He knew you were turning those words over and over again in your head, digesting them. When he’d first pulled out of the parking lot he’d tried placing one of his big warm palms on your knee to comfort you, but you pulled away, curling up against the door and staring out the window. He’d tried speaking to you once, but you responded quickly that you didn’t want to talk about it.

When you arrived home he followed you into the house and up to your bedroom. You picked up the laundry basket that was laying at the foot of the bed, and plopped it on top of the bed. You busiest yourself folding the rest of the load you had meant to finish it before going out for lunch. Flip sat on his brown armchair in the corner of your bedroom, a few feet away from you, and you could feel his gaze on you as you worked. You folded in silence for a few minutes, still muddling in the events of earlier, and then you heard Flip let out a loud sigh.

“Alright, come here,” he called, patting his lap, nodding his head to further emphasis himself. 

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it, please Phil,” your voice came out defeated.

“Ok,” he sat for a moment. “Well can I talk to you?” You turned to stare at his face, considering him. He gestured you over again with his head and this time you gave in, tossing one of your tops to the side and walking over to him, a little smile slipping out.

You purposefully perched yourself on the very edge of his lap, teasing him, and looked at him expectantly. He rolled his eyes and grabbed your waist tightly, tugged you all the way into him until your shoulder bumped into his chest, the sudden motion causing you to squeal. He tightened his arms around you and poked his big strong nose against your cheek.

“You know I love you honey?” He kissed your jaw.

“You don’t think I’m a selfish bitch?” you forced a half laugh, trying to pretend it didn’t bother you too much. As if that would ever work with Flip.

“You know what I think of you woman?” He asked, grabbing your chin to direct your gaze to him. He has the prettiest eyes, you thought to yourself. His intense gaze was still enough make your stomach flutter even after all these years.

“What do you think of me?” You indulge him, giving another small smile.

“I think you’re too kind for your own good sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes at that, shaking your head at him, and tried to look away.

“Nuh uh, don’t roll your eyes baby, I mean it,” he said seriously pulling your face towards him again. “Don’t you be worrying about some shit somebody else said ok? You’re the farthest thing from selfish pumpkin. You’re such a good person, and you don’t even know it. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.  You're my favourite person in the whole world baby, I’m so glad you let me marry you. Don’t know what I did to deserve you gorgeous.” He leaned forward leaving a quick, sweet kiss on your lips. Then he let go of your chin and you moved forward, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“God I love you Flip,” you spoke, voice muffled as your mouth was on top of his flannel.

“I love you more baby.”

And then he’d probably fuck you into the mattress while he made you say nice things about yourself but I’ve done my very best to keep this series PG so we’ll have to address that another time.

Tags: @aloneandsleepless​ @maryforyou​ @emeraldsiren20​ @leather-flannel-liquor​ @ellenmunn​

wanted to be added? click here

[dannystattoo]

‘tis the damn season

Pairing: Jamie x Dani (The Haunting of Bly Manor)

Word Count: 7,191

Warnings: None, other than it’s a little cheesy. Also, I haven’t written anything in five years, so if I’m a little rusty, sorry ‘bout that. 

AU, Dani and Jamie broke up, Dani goes back to America and finds herself back in England for Hannah and Owen’s wedding (this is my AU and I refuse to let Hannah die). Of course, the au pair and the gardener cross paths and hometown yearning AU comences. Loosely based on the song “tis the damn season” by Taylor Swift, but it took on it’s own life after a bit.   Also, image above is not mine 

It had been years since Dani had set foot in the countryside near Bly Manor, let alone anywhere in England. Her au pair job hadn’t worked out, so she’d gone back to America. Then again, to say the job itself hadn’t worked out was a bit of a misstatement. The job had always been fine and the kids had been, as Flora would say “perfectly splendid” (after the whole possession thing, anyway). No, the real problem was she had been foolish enough to fall for someone else who worked at the Manor alongside her.

After everything that happened with the Lady in the Lake, everyone had understandably left Bly Manor. Henry took guardianship of the children, though Dani still helped care for them quite often. Owen and Hannah finally gotten their chance to move back to Paris for a time before coming back to the countryside to be closer to Owen’s mother. Owen had also finally opened the restaurant he’d always dreamt of, which had been a massive success.  This left Dani and Jamie, who moved closer to town, specifically to Jamie’s apartment over the “boring old pub”. Some might say things moved a little quickly, but given everything that had taken place over the summer, it seemed like the logical next step. Staring death in the face really has a way of bringing people together after all. They’d opened The Leafling after sometime and everything seemed perfect, at least for the first year anyway.

While it was true the events at Bly Manor had brought Jamie and Dani to realize how strong their feelings for each other truly were, dealing with the aftermath of those events presented some challenges to say the least. Despite having escaped the Lady in the Lake, Dani had a constant, nagging worry she was going to come back for her at any moment. Try as she might to move on with life, to enjoy her newfound romance with the gardener, she simply couldn’t. She was always sleeping with one eye open, looking behind her everywhere she went, constantly fearing Viola would come not only for her, but possibly Jamie as well. Or worse yet, knowing that Viola could possess her victims, what if she caused Dani to bring any harm to Jamie? In the end, her fears and worries caused her  to distance herself from Jamie. Jamie did everything she could to let Dani know she didn’t need to do this, that whatever happened, they were in it together, but Dani couldn’t bring herself to listen.

One night, Dani dreamt that Viola had overtaken her completely. Viola used Dani as a vessel to continue unleashing rage and carnage on the world, and forced Dani to strangle Jamie in her sleep. Even after waking and being assured by her girlfriend numerous times it was only a dream; she was fine, they were fine, everyone was fine, it didn’t matter. Dani broke things off a few days later, not giving any explanation even though they both knew the reason. The two had gone their separate ways, both completely heartbroken. Dani convinced herself everyday she’d done the right thing. She tried to continue living in Essex for a while, but in the end, she went back stateside, trying her hardest to leave all the trauma of Bly behind.

That was two years ago. Now here she was, driving back into the town she’d run so far to get away from. Hannah and Owen were getting married after how many years of pining after each other. Despite knowing she’d have to face Jamie again after cutting contact two years before, there was no way she would miss out on the wedding. As she rode in the back of the car Henry had kindly arranged to come pick her up, she began to pick up on familiar sights through fogged up windows. Then she saw it: the pub, and if she saw the pub, that meant Jamie’s apartment was just above it. Well, what had been her apartment anyway. It had been a while and it was entirely possible she’d moved out of there by now. Was she even still in Bly? Why did she care so much? She was the one who had broken things off and had convinced herself that both she and Jamie were better off.  

Her question was answered pretty quickly though; at least she thought it was. While she couldn’t see her face, Dani saw the silhouette of a woman with dark shoulder length curls, dressed very similarly to how she knew Jamie to dress. Dani felt a longing ache the second she made the connection. The woman looked back at the passing car and for a second, Dani could have sworn the two of them made eye contact. It was almost certainly Jamie, and this was proof that Dani wasn’t truly over her despite pretending everyday.

At that very moment, Jamie was indeed heading up to her apartment. The flower shop had been closed for the day, a little early due to the obligations that went along with Hannah and Owen’s upcoming wedding. She was leaving the store in the complete care of one of the associates she’d hired on after Dani left - it was the first time she’d left the store in someone else’s hands for more than a day or two and she couldn’t stop overthinking through the list of things she’d dreamt up to go wrong. Her anxiety over the upcoming wedding wasn’t helping any either. Owen had given fair warning that Dani would be invited to the wedding, and a few weeks ago she’d received confirmation that Dani was coming over from America just for the occasion.

Jamie would be lying if she said she didn’t still have feelings for Dani. She tried every god damn day to remind herself of all the pain the au pair had caused her, running out when Jamie wanted nothing more than to be there for her. It never worked though; she’d remember everything Dani was going through at the time and Jamie would find herself justifying her actions, justifying her distancing herself, justifying her leaving as abruptly as she did. Jamie had tried going on a few dates since their breakup, but no one had ever caught her attention beyond a few dates and that regrettable one night stand shortly after Dani left. It also didn’t help that the lesbian population of the town was almost non-existent. That’s how she found herself being set up with one of Hannah’s friend’s sisters a while back, who was now her plus one. If she was being honest, Jamie would have much preferred to go alone as she didn’t see this relationship going anywhere. However, the conversation of going to the wedding together had come up months ago, Jamie had mentioned it to her way too soon, and now here she was stuck in this predicament.  God, how she wished this weekend would just be over already.

As Jamie began to ascend the steps to her apartment, she saw a car pass by, one with a woman who looked suspiciously like Dani in the backseat. She experienced such a longing ache, not unlike the one Dani had experienced at the same moment. She swore they made the briefest eye contact, but she couldn’t be sure. It was probably her imagination playing tricks on her. Seeing as the rehearsal dinner was in just a few hours, she’d have see Dani sooner than later anyway.

When Dani arrived at the Wingraves, who had offered to host her on her stay, no one was home - Henry would be at work for a few more hours and the kids were still a little while out from being finished with school. There was a spare key left under the mat that Dani used to let herself in. She dropped her stuff in the spare bedroom she’d used on numerous occasions before while watching the children and decided she didn’t want to sit in the house and think about how much she was dreading seeing her ex again after the way things had ended. She decided to change and walk to the quaint downtown area to grab some food, seeing as she was starving after the long flight. Dani should have realized that going downtown would only make her more likely to run into Jamie. On some level, maybe it’s what Dani was hoping for. Within minutes, the two ran into each other.

“Pop-Dani, that you?”

“Um, yeah, yeah it is,” Dani said awkwardly, clearly not expecting to run into Jamie so soon.

“What brings you out this way?”Jamie asked after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

“I just got into town a little bit ago. Figured I’d come and get some food before the Wingraves get back to the house - you know, after the long flight and all.”

“The kids will be happy to see you, I reckon.”

“I sure hope so, it’s been a while,” Dani paused for a moment. “So what about you? What are you doing out this way?”

“I mean, I still live in the same apartment just down the street, but I was getting everything ready for tonight, realized I needed to run to the drug store and pick up a few things.” Dani simply nodded.

“Would you, um, would you want to -“ Dani gestured to the restaurant, her mouth clearly working faster than her brain. It took Jamie a second to register what she was asking, especially given the last time they’d seen each other.

“Oh - no, much as I’d love to, I really need to freshen up before tonight. I think I may be having drinks with a…friend of Hannah’s before dinner. A friends she’s been trying to set me up with for ages.”

Dani nodded, having no idea how to respond. Not that she hadn’t expected Jamie to move on after their breakup, but she was more upset about her mentioning this than she could have anticipated, especially as casually as she did. She knew she was overreacting, but if Dani had wanted to know what was going on in Jamie’s love life since she’d left, she would have asked.

“Ok. Well, I hope that works out for you,” Dani finally said after a moment. “I guess I’ll um, I guess I’ll see you at dinner tonight?”

“Yeah, i’ll see you at dinner.”

The rehearsal dinner was painful, much more painful than Dani could have imagined. Sure, it had been wonderful to see Owen and Hannah after so many years, but as always happens with weddings, it’s impossible to see the couple for more than a few minutes. She tried her best to enjoy her time with Henry, Flora, and Miles, but it was hard to do seeing Jamie there with another woman. The restaurant was small and there was nowhere to get away. It also didn’t help that the kids, too young to really understand that the two would not want to see each other, had a way of continually calling Jamie’s attention over to their table. Both women were doing their best to act as though they weren’t both horribly uncomfortable. Thankfully the second the food was served, all the mingling came to a halt and the gardener and the au pair were seated on opposite sides of the room once again; and once dinner was through, the party dissipated rather quickly as they would be losing the event space soon -thank god.

Dani was beyond ready to get back to the house, but she stupidly offered to stay and help clean up the banquet room. She tried to look on the bright side, telling herself it might afford her a few more minutes to catch up with her old friends. Clean up was quick, and before they knew it, they were dumping the last of the loose ends in the back of Owen’s car.

“Dani! Glad I caught you before you left,” Hannah approached as Dani, who was trying to wrestle an usually large gift bag into the trunk. “Any plans for the rest of the night?”

“Can’t say that I have any- why, what do you have up your sleeve?”

“Nothing much, we thought it might be fun to have a small nightcap at the pub downtown. It’s so disappointing you traveled all this way after so long and I’ve barely been able to chat with you. It’s absolutely expected, but still.”

Dani thought on it for moment, nearly declining as she knew Jamie would likely be invited too and there’d be no getting away from each other in the pub. However, her desire to spend some time with those who had become like family to her over that summer at Bly won out, and she accepted the invitation.

“I think I could swing that. Are you heading straight over?”

“Yeah, there’s nothing that needs to go back to the flat right away. Will you need a ride there? I think there may be space in the backseat as long as you don’t mind wedging yourself in there,” Hannah offered.

“That would be great. I left my jacket and my bag in the banquet room, do you mind if I run and grab them? ”

“Take your time, I think Owen has to take care of another thing or two.”

Dani headed back inside and who should be standing in the middle of the banquet room but Jamie. She was alone though, something Dani hadn’t expected.

“Hey,”Jamie greeted her.

“Hey…I’m just coming to grab my stuff,” Dani said, making her way over to her belongings. She knew she shouldn’t ask, but her curiosity go the better of her.

“So what happened to your date?” she ventured.

“Oh, she left,” Jamie shrugged. “To be honest, I would have been fine doing the whole weekend alone, but you know how it is. Friend tries to set you up with one of their friends, you casually mention the wedding you’re both conveniently invited to, and before you know it, you’ve committed to be her date even though it’s pretty clear nothing’s ever gonna happen between you two.”

“Drinks tonight was just…I don’t know, giving her another chance, I guess,” Jamie explained after noticing Dani’s inquisitive look. “I can’t say it hasn’t been lonely around here since you left. Anyway though, what about you? Anyone waiting over in the states?”

“No, can’t say that there is. I mean, my mother’s been trying to find me a nice boy since i’ve been back but she doesn’t know about the whole gay thing,” Dani explained. “Anyway, I’m assuming you’re going to the nightcap down at pub?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, especially since I live right upstairs. Do you have a ride out that way?”

“Owen and Hannah offered to take me, but I’m not sure they actually have room for me in their car.”

“I can drive you over if you want?” Jamie offered. Dani knew it was probably against her better judgement to accept, but in that moment everything felt just as it had years before. It was comfortable.

“Yeah, that would be great actually.”

From the minute the two women got in Jamie’s pickup, it was as though the last two years had never happened. Once the ice had been broken, it felt like home, though neither of them would admit it. To Dani, it felt even more so once she was at the bar, finally able to chat with Hannah and Owen, hear about their adventures in Paris, and everything they’d been up to since the au pair had last seen them. At that moment, surrounded by her found family from Bly, Dani had no idea why she’d left. Despite everything that had happened here, she couldn’t say she’d ever felt more at home than with these people. For the first time since she’d returned, Dani actually felt at ease. The copious amount of alcohol she’d had since arriving probably also had a bit to do with that.

As the evening wore on, Dani noticed that she and Jamie seemed to be gravitating closer and closer in the small both their group was seated at. All night though, Dani reminded herself it was probably just the alcohol and nothing more. After their long and complicated history, nothing good could come from rekindling their connection. She also had to remind herself she didn’t live here anymore; she had to go back to the States next week. Despite everything she was telling herself, after a few strong drinks and out of instinct, Dani found her hand brushing Jamie’s thigh. Exactly how she used to.  Once she realized what she was doing, she quickly recoiled her hand. Jamie looked over at her, though she didn’t look upset.

“I’m so sorry,” Dani quickly apologized.

“You know, I really don’t mind, Poppins.” Jamie was just getting confirmation of what she’d known all along, even though she tried to pretend it wasn’t the case: she’d never moved on from Dani and honestly, she didn’t want to. Now it was her turn to act against her better judgement. She reached her hand out, fingers grazing Dani’s. She immediately began to think about what a terrible idea this is, but before she could think about it too much, she could feel Dani’s fingers intertwining with hers.  Sure, Dani would be leaving next week. Jamie knew she was setting herself up to get her heart broken all over again. In that moment though, with the love of her life back, if only for the weekend, she didn’t care.

They hadn’t planned it, but Dani, Jamie, Owen, and Hannah stayed at the pub until they were kicked out at close. Some of the other folks who had been invited trickled out earlier, but those four could have stayed for hours more if they were able.

“It’s a damn good thing the wedding isn’t tomorrow, huh?” Jamie laughed.

“You can say that again,” Owen agreed. “Putting a day between the rehearsal and the wedding was one of the best decisions we could have made. Then again, it was fully Hannah’s idea and she known to be full of good ones.”

“Oh stop,” Hannah laughed. “Are you all ok to get home?”

“I just have to go upstairs,” Jamie said. “What about you guys? I know you don’t have far to go, but is one of you able to drive back?”

“I stopped drinking ages ago, I’ll be fine to get us home. Dani, do you want a ride back to the Wingraves?” Owen asked.

“If you don’t mind. I know they live really out of the way but -“

“Did you want to stay here?” Jamie volunteered. The other three looked at her, all equally shocked.

“It just seems easier, is all. I mean, the Wingraves are what, almost thirty minutes away now? It doesn’t make sense for you guys to drive all that way when you’re only five minutes down the road.”

“Jamie, if you’re sure, that sounds great,” Dani said. After saying their goodbyes, the pairs parted ways.

Dani and Jamie made their way up the stairs, stumbling slight as neither of them had sobered up yet.

“Where am I gonna sleep? Your place isn’t that big,” Dani pointed out.

“You good on the sofa?”

“I mean, yeah, I’ll take it but that sofa’s terrible.”

“For your information, I’ve got a new one since you ran off. ‘is better, I swear.”

“I guess it’ll do,” Dani playfully rolled her eyes.

Being back in Jamie’s apartment - what had once been their apartment - was weird. It was slightly uncomfortable, as she couldn’t stop replaying the last time she’d  set foot in this house. On the other hand, just like so many other things over the past few hours, she felt at home. She could still remember all the details of the apartment, noticing what had changed and what had remained the same. Sure enough, there was a new couch in the middle of the living room. Dani plopped down on the sofa, not even bothering to take her shoes off.

“You want to change into something a little more comfy, Poppins?”

“Huh?” Dani looked up at Jamie, already half asleep. She looked down and realized she was indeed still wearing the dress and heels she’d worn to dinner. “I would, but I don’t have anything here. I’ll survive til tomorrow morning.”

“Nonsense - that dress looks amazing on you, but please don’t try to sleep in it. Come ‘ere, let me get you something else.”  Jamie led Dani to her room and went into her dresser drawer. She pulled out a baggy t-shirt and tossed it over to Dani.

“Will that be ok?” Jamie asked.

“This is perfect. Is the bathroom still where it used to be?…I’m sorry, that was such a dumb question, of course your bathroom’s still in the same place. I’m still drunk, I’m sorry. I’m um, I’m gonna go change.” Dani disappeared to the bathroom. Jamie couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. God, she’d missed Dani.

“Damn it, she ran out on you,” Jamie muttered to herself, trying to stop herself from getting too attached to the idea anything might happen between them this weekend. After Jamie changed, she sat on the bed and waited for Dani to finish up in the bathroom.

Oh, fuck, Jamie thought as she looked up and saw Dani emerging from the bathroom. She forgot how good Dani looked wearing her nightshirts and how much of a turn on it was. Unbeknownst to her, similar thoughts are running through Dani’s head. The two sat and stared at each other, clearly both wanting to make a move, but neither having the courage to do it.

Dani moved first, crossing to the other side of the room, grabbing Jamie’s hands and pulling them to her waist. Before Jamie could process what was happening, Dani’s lips were on hers and she found herself leaning into it. After moment though, she forced herself to pull back.

“Dani, we can’t.”

“Ugh, god I’m sorry. I don’t know…I don’t know why I did that. i mean, I do, but I shouldn’t have -“

“No, it’s not that I didn’t want you to,” Jamie sighed. “I’ve been wanting that since you got  here. We’re both drunk though, I can’t do this while we’re drunk. Not to mention we didn’t exactly end on good terms, but that’s not a discussion for right now.”

Dani was silent, though nodding in agreement. After a moment of awkward silence, she started walking towards the bedroom door.

“I’m just um, I’m just gonna go in the living room. I saw some blankets out there, I’ll make myself comfy. G’night, thanks for letting me crash with you.”

“Wait, Dani - would you…would you want to stay in here tonight? I know I shouldn’t do this and I can’t help but think I’m just going to end up getting myself hurt, but god Dani, I’ve missed you.” Dani started at her for a moment, shocked by Jamie’s offer.

“God, I’m sorry, I just made this weirder than it already is. Please, you can say no.”

“I actually wanted to say yes. Are you sure it’s ok?” Jamie nodded, shifting over so there was room for Dani on the bed with her. She made sure to stick to her side of the bed, not daring to cross to Dani’s side right now. Her body fought sleep for a little while before she eventually faded off.

It took the au pair even longer to fall asleep. She had started sobering up and couldn’t stop overthinking the events of the evening. She’d had an amazing time, but this was a mistake. Not only was she clearly going to hurt herself, but now that she knew Jamie hadn’t been able to date anyone since their breakup, she knew whatever happened would likely hurt them both. The more she thought about it, the more she just wished Jamie would have just been dating that other woman. Sure it would have sucked, but at least she wouldn’t have found herself in the predicament she was in now. After what felt like an eternity, Dani eventually fell asleep, her mind still racing.

A few hours later, the sun started poking in through the curtains. Dani woke up, nowhere near rested. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since she’d finally fallen asleep. It also felt she’d been hit by a train. She saw the clock on the nightstand said it was just after 7:00AM and while she wanted to go back to sleep, the pounding headache from her hangover wasn’t allowing her to do that. Dani tried to roll over and make her way to the bathroom to see if she could dig up any pain reliever. She knew where it was once upon a time, hopefully Jamie hadn’t reorganized her bathroom. It was a struggle to get up though; while they had been sleeping, both Jamie and Dani had migrated towards the middle of the bed. Legs were completely tangled and Jamie’s arm had ended up around Dani’s waist. She tried to move it away gently, trying not to wake Jamie in the process.

“Babe, come back to bed,” Jamie said, still very clearly half asleep. Dani sighed when she heard that.

“Sure, call me babe for the weekend,” Dani said under her breath, quiet enough Jamie couldn’t hear her. She returned to bed, hoping that with some relief for her hangover, she’d be able to get a little more sleep. Once again, her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. Watching Jamie sleep, all Dani could think of was the constant regret of running away. The road not travel looked real good now.

Jamie woke up a few hours later to an empty bed. God, how had she slept til noon? She supposed staying out until the wee hours of the morning had something to do with it.  She momentarily forgot Dani had stayed over, but as soon as she remembered she got out of bed to see where the au pair had gone.

“Dani?” she called out.

“I’m in the kitchen! Did you want breakfast? I made eggs and coffee.”

“Sounds great, thanks. How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well,” Dani lied. “I woke up with a pounding headache around seven though, and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“So that’s why I heard up and about so early. Do you need anything?”

“Nah, I found some ibuprofen and I’m feeling a lot better. The coffee helped too. Do you still take yours with a lot of cream, a little sugar?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jamie was surprised Dani still remembered that after all this time.

“What about you? How did you sleep?”

“Really well once I fell asleep. So what are your plans for the day?”

“I need to get back to the Wingraves. I told Flora and Miles we’d spend the day together today. I should actually go start getting myself presentable again and get going.”

“Do you have a ride out there?” Jamie asked. “I can take you if you need.”

“Only if it isn’t too much trouble. I talked to Henry this morning and he said he can come out here if I need, but I know he has to bring the kids with him if he comes out -“

“It’s ok, Dani, I’ll drive ya. I don’t have anything else going on.” The gardener wouldn’t admit this was also a ploy to spend more time with Dani.

“That would be great if you don’t mind. I’m going to go freshen up and we can go whenever you want.” With that, Dani headed to the bathroom, leaving Jamie alone with her thoughts.  

She couldn’t believe how easily she and Dani had just fallen back into it as if the last two years hadn’t happened. The last twenty four hours were something Jamie could have only dreamt about: falling asleep and waking up with Dani beside her, enjoying breakfast together, the domestic monotony she’d taken for granted before. Jamie found herself longing for things to be like this again all the time; even after Dani leaving how she did, there was still no one who could make Jamie feel the way she did. She would have loved to have been able to just ask Dani to stay- hell, she wished Dani would ask her to go back to Vermont, where she’d learned Dani had been for the last two years. She would have considered it. But neither of those things would happen and Jamie knew it was probably for the best. Either would be a mess. Her musings were interrupted by the bedroom door opening, Dani emerging looking as put together as she had upon arriving at dinner last night.

“Well you clean up pretty nice for someone who was nursing a hangover all morning,” Jamie said, perhaps a little more flirtatious than she’d anticipated. “Let me just brush my teeth and throw on some pants and we can go.”

The pair went downstairs, loading into Jamie’s truck. This time it was Dani reminiscing about the past, thinking how right all of this still felt to her; sitting in the comfortable silence, the radio playing in the background, the countryside winding out the window. Even after all this time, Dani still felt right at home. Now that she was back, she couldn’t help but think that in trying to do right by Jamie, she’d ruined everything.

“You know, I don’t know if I’ve said it yet, but I’ve really missed you,” Dani broke the silence.  Jamie didn’t immediately respond, trying to figure if now was the time to pour her heart out.

“Dani, I can’t begin to tell you how much I’ve missed you, but I can’t just pretend like you didn’t just push me away for months and then run off to another country with no explanation.”

“You know why I did what I did. I know that doesn’t make it any better, but I couldn’t live with the thought of possibly hurting you.”

“Don’t you see that’s exactly what you did anyway?”

“You know what I meant. I was scared, still convinced the Lady of the Lake wasn’t done with me yet. Do you now how many I times I dreamt that she would take over me and hurt you? Would take over me and kill you? I couldn’t live with myself it that happened!”

“If you’d have talked to me about any of this, I would’ve helped you.”

“I did tell you.”

“No, no you didn’t. Well you did, but you mentioned it and then you pulled away from me.”

“And trust me, if I could change that now, I would. I can’t though, and the most I hoped to get out of this weekend was that you didn’t absolutely hate me.”

“I don’t think I can hate you. By all accounts, I should hate you. But here I am, getting drunk with you, letting you stay at my apartment, letting you sleep in my fucking bed. I have tried, trust me I have tried to date other people, but it always just come right back to you and I know the only heart I’m breaking the entire time is my own,” Jamie felt her voice crack and took a breath, determined not to get into this conversation right now.

“I know there’s nothing I can really say, but I do just want to let you know I’m sorry for what I did, for leaving you how I did. I mean it when I say if I could take it all back in hindsight, I would.”

“Well, you can’t. Listen, Dani, I don’t want to get into this conversation right now. Last night was amazing, we’ll have a great time at the wedding tomorrow, and then you’ll go back home, I’ll be here, and it’ll be like this whole weekend never happened. I can’t ask you to stay and even if I wanted to, I can’t go back with you. So where does that leave us? Things are already getting messy as it is and you know it.”

Dani just sighed, knowing Jamie was right. They sat back in silence after this, except it was no longer comfortable. Both women had finally gotten to speak the words they’d been holding onto for the last two years, both knowing it wouldn’t change anything.

After what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have been more than 20 minutes, the pickup pulled up in front of the Wingrave’s home.

“Here’s your stop. So I’ll, um, I’ll see you for the wedding tomorrow I guess?”

“Yep, I guess so,” Dani said as she headed towards the house.

“Dani!” Jamie called before driving away.

“Yeah?”

“I just…i have to ask, did you ever see her again?” Jamie couldn’t help herself, she had to know.

“Huh?”

“Did you ever see her again? After Bly?”

“Oh,” Dani realized she was asking about Viola. “No, actually and honestly that just makes the fact I left hurt even more.”

Jamie nodded before saying a quick goodbye and the two parted ways until tomorrow.

The next afternoon, Dani rode out to town with the Wingraves. The mood was overall very light, everyone excited to see some happiness come from their hellish time at Bly Manor. Dani should have been excited too, and she was - excited for her friends at least. After yesterday, she’d been feeling pretty shitty about things with Jamie, even more so than usual. Maybe it was finally learning exactly how much pain she’d caused, maybe it was the fact that Jamie seemed to put the final nail in the coffin with their conversation yesterday. Then again, what did she expect? That Jamie would just ask her to come back to England for good? That Jamie would be willing to leave The Leafling and come back to Vermont with her? The more she thought about it, the more laughable it seemed. The other night was beginning to feel like a drunken mistake. For a few hours yesterday morning, she stupidly believed any of the above could have been possible. A distant possibility, sure, but a possibility no less. She tried to put it out of her head and try her best to have a good time. It was a happy day after all.

Dani had finally gotten in a little bit better headspace upon arriving at the small church where the ceremony was taking place, but that changed quickly when she realized where they were. This was a part of town she knew well, one she was in almost as much as the area near Jamie’s flat and all the memories came rushing back. Right next to the church was the school where Flora and Miles had gone for a year before Henry found a more permanent home for them in the country. She’d attended a fair number of school plays and sporting events there that year.  A little further down was the gas station she distinctly remembered stopping at with Jamie when they had taken a road trip a few hours out into the country for their first anniversary, right before everything went to shit. She remembered stopping to stock up on junk food, the euphoria of finally having some time just the two of them after what she remembered had been a hellishly busy month. There was the restaurant they would end up at quite often after both of them had worked a full day and didn’t feel like cooking; the video store they frequented. God, everything in this area reminded her of what she and Jamie had, what they could have continued to have if she hadn’t fucked it all up.

“Dani, are you coming?” Flora’s voice broke her thoughts, Dani hadn’t even realized she’d been zoning out.

“Yeah, sorry. I was miles away, but here I come!”

“Doesn’t it all just look perfectly splendid?”

“It does Flora, it really does.”

The ceremony was small and short, but beautiful. Once everything wrapped, Hannah and Owen disappeared for more photos while everyone else began to migrate towards the venue that would be hosting the reception. Dani noticed Jamie wasn’t placed at the same table as her and the Wingraves, which she had expected, especially after the other night. The au pair hadn’t seen the gardener yet, at least nothing more than making eye contact across the church. Dani did take note that Jamie didn’t appear to be with a date like she’d said. Just as Dani was thinking this, Jamie appeared at the table.

“You lot don’t happen to have room for one more person here, do you?”

“Eh, I guess we can find a place for you,” Dani joked, knowing full well there was more than enough space.

“Thank god. I forgot to update Hannah on the whole date situation and how after things ended at the rehearsal dinner, I would not be attending with Morgan after all. However, since she was unfortunately invited to the wedding before we agreed to go together, we were still sat at the same table.”

“Yikes. Well, we’re happy to take in a stray.”

“Jamie! I’m so excited to be able to sit with both of you tonight!” Flora exclaimed after seeing there was one additional guest at their table. “Oh this is splendid - does this mean Dani’s back and you’re together again?”

“Not quite, squirt,” Dani laughed, “but it’ll be good for us all to spend some time together tonight, I think.” Flora nodded, content with that answer,

“Ah, if only it were that easy,” Jamie mused.

“Yeah, if only. You wanna go find the bar?”

“Please. I thought you’d never ask.”

The entire rest of the evening was wonderful. Dinner and dessert were delicious, but with the team from Owen’s restaurant catering, who would have expected anything else? The toasts were lovely, the music had been perfectly chosen with wordless melodies to set the mood while dinner was happening and some great dance music for afterwards. Before everyone knew it, it was nearing midnight and people were beginning to trickle out.

“So…is this it?” Dani asked.

“I reckon it might be,” Jamie sighed. “Listen, I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been dreading seeing you since Owen told me you’d bought your plane ticket and would be coming, but this weekend has actually been a lot of fun.”

“It really has. Thank you for still being willing to spend time with me. After everything I wouldn’t have blamed you if you wanted nothing to do with me.”

��Like I said yesterday, I don’t have it in me to hate you, Poppins. Thank you for an unexpectedly enjoyable weekend.” The two stood in silence for a moment before Jamie spoke up again.

“I know it’s completely against my better judgment, but would you want to come over again tonight? Honestly the company the other night was nice.”

“I shouldn’t,” Dani declined. “Trust me, I would love that more than anything, but I can’t. I know we had that conversation about it never working out between us yesterday and it’s not fair to either of us if I come over tonight and who knows what happens from there. Plus you’re still a little drunk. If you were completely sober would you have asked me to stay the night?”

“Probably,” Jamie shrugged.

“How are you getting home, by the way? Don’t tell me you’re driving?”

“Nah, awkwardly enough, Morgan still gave me a ride here today.  Even though we weren’t going together anymore, she still offered to drive me. You know how much I hate being DD for weddings, so I still took her up on it. Though she uh, seems to have left the party already.”

“Let me find Henry, I’m sure he would be willing to give you a ride back home if you needed.” Dani ran off and returned a few minutes later. Henry was saying his goodbyes to a few other folks from around town, as well as trying to separate the kids from their newfound group of friends that consisted of the few other children who had been at the reception.

“He said it’s fine, he wants to know you get home safely too. Before we get ganged up on by kiddos who are on an obscene sugar high, I wanted to ask if you have any plans for the rest of the week?”

“Just work as far as I can think,” Jamie said.

“Good. I’m sure I mentioned it before, but when I said I was coming over for the wedding, the Wingraves asked if I’d want to stay for a little bit longer, spend some time with the kids. Thing is, if you happened to have any more free days, I’d love to see you another time or two if it worked out.”

“I would love that,” Jamie said. “Do you still have my phone number, maybe we can hash out details tomorrow?”

“It’s very possible I still have it memorized.” Dani stuck her hand out, fingers grazing Jamie’s for the second time in three days. Jamie grabbed her hand right back. They both knew this felt right, maybe their relationship could be salvaged after all. They also knew it was too soon to know, but there was hope. Jamie pulled Dani a little closer, about ready to go in for a kiss, when she was interrupted.

“I thought you said you weren’t dating anymore?” Miles asked.

“We’re not,” Dani said, not wanting to give the kids any false hope that they’d be seeing significantly more of her in their lives again.

“But you were going to kiss, weren’t you?”

“Miles, none of your business,” Henry interjected. “Everyone ready to head out?” Everyone nodded in agreement and made their way out into the chilly evening to the car. Dani could hear that Flora and Miles were walking a little farther behind the group and apparently hadn’t dropped the conversation of Dani and Jamie dating once again.

“Wasn’t that night just so much fun, Miles? I just love weddings. Well, I loved this one, I haven’t been to any others. What if Jamie and Dani get married next? We could all go to their wedding and it would be perfectly splendid!”

Dani and Jamie both overhead this and exchanged a quiet, knowing laugh. If only the rest of the world could be as accepting as these kids. While they couldn’t be sure what the future would really look like and they knew there’d be countless challenges to work through. It wouldn’t be easy, but maybe their love, like the moonflower, might be worth it.

A/N - if you made it all the way through, thank you and I hope you enjoyed it! If y’all want a sequel, lemme know because @90smallaesthetic​ has already asked for one 🤣

[abaikgirl]

the love confession in a fight prompt no. 8 for nightmight, please?

have a great day x

Send me a number and a ship and I’ll write a drabble about Love Confessions during a fight!

You got it! I decided to write some more NightfallxVigilante All Might because they’re fun. 

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

Mirai was not a stalker. 

He did stalk his targets for a few weeks before deciding if he should kill them, but that wasn’t the same thing, no matter what the police reports said. 

His proficiency for not being noticed had increased through years of practice, making him capable of hiding in plain sight. Most people only saw a salary man in a sensible suit, not the person who was deciding if they would live until next Tuesday. 

At the moment he was tailing a man named Sugawara. He had several assault and battery charges on his record, none of them stuck however. Usually Mirai wouldn’t bother with such small time offenders like him, but he had attracted too much attention after his last killing and he needed to lay low. 

The most effective way to lay low would simply be to hold off on killing anyone, but Mirai didn’t exactly have anything else to do with his freetime, so there he was in a coffee shop, watching Sugawara from across the way while pretending to read a book. 

Mirai had bluejacked his phone weeks ago and knew he was here for some sort of date. Sugawara had been sending messages back and forth to someone saved in his phone as simply “Construction Hottie”. The texts had been frequent and flirty, but there was yet to be any indication that he meant ill towards this potential partner. 

Mirai didn’t take that to mean anything though. Sugawara had been violent towards his partners before and he didn’t have high hopes for the poor sap who had been suckered into texting with this low life to have a different fate. 

“Sugawara-kun!” a familiar voice called. 

Involuntarily, Mirai’s head snapped up. There, standing across the cafe was someone Mirai would have recognized anywhere. Even with his dark vigilante clothes and blue face mask, his form was unmistakable. 

It was All Might, the handsome vigilante who seemed to never be far from Mirai’s mind.

“Yagi-kun,” Sugawara replied, standing up. They embraced, all laughter and smiles. 

“You can just call me Toshinori, I don’t mind.”

Mirai felt his cheeks heat up with either embarrassment or rage, he wasn’t sure. He felt like he had walked in on something he was never supposed to hear or see. Toshinori Yagi, that was his name. It repeated in his head, over and over again. Toshinori Yagi. Toshinori Yagi. Toshinori...

“Toshi-kun then,”Sugawara replied. 

Mirai closed his book with a slam, making the person in the booth next to him jump. The two men across the cafe didn’t notice. How dare Sugawara refer to Toshinori so informally. It wasn’t fair that someone as good and kind and handsome as Toshinori was on a date with someone so far below him. 

He and Toshinori weren’t exactly friends. They weren’t exactly enemies either. Not unless it was normal for enemies to have kissed once in a heated, confused haze and then never speak about it again. 

Mirai was pretty sure it wasn’t.

Thanks to the bluejack, Mirai was able to listen in to their conversation through Sugawara’s phone speaker. He was forced to listen to this oaf blab about himself through the entire date, not even noticing the fact that Toshinori barely got a word in. 

By the end of it, Mirai’s coffee had gone cold and hot, bitter jealousy swirled in his gut. 

He followed Sugawara with renewed dedication. It felt wrong to also be tailing Toshinori like this. There was a tenuous trust between them, something Mirai had fought tooth and nail to gain and listening in to his conversations and reading his late night texts with Sugawara felt like a betrayal of that trust. 

It was probably the jealous rage that was constantly simmering in the back of his head that made Mirai get sloppy. He had followed them back to Sugawara’s apartment after another date and he sighed in relief when Toshinori refused Sugawara’s offer to come in. 

From across the street he watched Toshinori emerge from the apartment building and head east. Mirai knew he should stay put and continue to monitor Sugawara, but the curiosity to see where Toshinori lived overcame his reason and he followed him. 

They walked about ten blocks before Mirai realized they were just going in circles. 

“Are you stalking me now?” Toshinori asked, his voice unbearably loud on the empty street.  

Mirai stopped dead, staying in the shadows.

“I know you’re there, Nightfall,” Toshinori said, turning around and looking towards him. 

Mirai stepped into the light of the streetlamp. “If you knew I was following you, why didn’t you say something earlier?”

Toshinori frowned. “I thought maybe you were tailing someone else.”

“I am.”

Disbelief dripped from his tone. “Oh really? Who?”

“Your boyfriend Sugawara.”

The term made Toshinori stiffen. “He’s not...we’re not like that.”

“Probably for the best, he’s a terrible person.” Mirai wished he had worn his helmet. He felt exposed standing there bare faced before Toshinori. 

“Well, isn’t that the sort of people you like to follow?”

“I don’t like it,” Mirai retorted. “I do it because it’s what needs to be done.” He adjusted his glasses, obscuring his expression. “He’s got quite a rap sheet, your Sugawara. Assault, battery, even broke a man’s arm for refusing him. I know you don’t see how terrible he is because you love him, but…”

Toshinori blinked in surprise. “I don’t love him. I love you.”

The words silenced Mirai and he closed his mouth with a snap. He what? He must have misheard, there was no way that Toshinori would ever say those words to him. 

His shock must have been all over his face because Toshinori laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so shocked before.”

“You just said some shocking things,” Mirai countered. His cheeks were hot and he prayed Toshinori couldn’t see it in the dim lighting. “So why are you going on dates with Sugawara if you...feel that way?”

“Same reason you’re stalking him. Well, maybe not the same reason. I don’t plan on killing him. His ex asked me to gather evidence to help him build a case against him. ”

“I see.”

They stood in awkward silence for a long moment before Toshinori stepped forward. Mirai was tall, but Toshinori still stood head and shoulders above him and he felt his breath catch as he looked up into his piercing blue eyes. 

“Are you really not going to say it back?” Toshinori asked, sounding hurt. “I mean if you don’t feel the same…”

Mirai leaned forward and pressed his lips to Toshinori’s, making him gasp a little in surprise. Some part of Mirai knew it was risky to kiss him like this, standing on the street in full view of anyone who might walk by, but the taste of his lips and the feeling of his tongue on the roof of Mirai’s mouth was enough to silence that concern.

They parted at last, desperate gasps escaping their swollen lips. “Of course I feel the same,” Mirai replied.

[terrm9]

Lost

Ethan X Sienna - friendship/mentorship (also mentions of Ethan X MC and Sienna X Danny)

This takes place somewhere through Chapter 18 and the time jump

Warnings: angst, mention of character death, trauma, sexist remark (1)

Words count: 1 700

So I had this idea in my head for a while now and now I decided to write it for two main reasons: 1) I can be okay with the time jump and absence of a date night and pretty much everything EXCEPT the fact that everyone ignores Sienna’s feelings ever since the accident. I mean, we get to help Jackie, we get to help Aurora BUT no diamond scene to help OUR BEST FRIEND Sienna, who lost her dear one? (And I don’t care that they were just ‘almost’ something. I have been an almost something with my now husband for a whole year before we started dating officialy and I would die if something happened to him in that year.

2) I really like to see Ethan as a good mentor. Not just to MC because he has ‘soft spot’ for her. As much as Ethan is irritated with interns and pretty much everyone, I believe that he has it in him to be a good mentor when some of his residents need help

I wrote this for myself actually but I hope someone else might enjoy it too

------- LOST ----------

It was Ethan’s sixth hour of working and, as fulfilling as working at the free clinic was, he was exhausted. Walking through the corridor towards his old office, all he wanted was to have a cup of hot coffee, ten minutes of peace and if he was lucky enough, maybe a moment alone with Chiara.

He missed her. As a mentor, he couldn’t be prouder of how she adjusted to the new situation and how dedicated she was to do as much as she could before Edenbrook’s closing. As a partner, he just wanted to have a nice free weekend with her filled with talking about everything and nothing, cooking for her, watching House, which she loved and he hated, and having undue amount of sex.

Turning around the corner, he stopped in his tracks as he noticed Dr. Trinh storming off one of the patient’s rooms and nearly running into nearest supply closet. He sighed, the scene becoming all too familiar and took a look into the room she just left. An older man was sitting on a bed, gesticulating wildly as he spoke to someone on the phone.

After evaluating situation, Ethan decided to leave the patient alone and follow Sienna into the supply closet instead. However, before he could do so, the door of the closet opened again and without as much as glancing into his direction, Sienna – with her eyes red and puffy, cheeks wet with tears and lips trembling – walked away.

This needs to stop.

He straightened his posture and followed her tracks, finding her at the nurses’ station, talking to Chiara in quiet voice.

Approaching them, he cleared his throat and as both younger doctors raised their heads at the sound, he spoke, his voice firm.

“Dr. Trinh, a word in my office, please.”

Sienna’s eyes widened and she muttered to Chiara: “He is going to kill me. Oh, he is going to chew me out.”

Well, my ex-office. Not that it really matters.

Chiara’s brows furrowed, her eyes travelling from her best friend’s face to the one of her boyfriend. Sure, Ethan was still their attending, but he actually liked Sienna. He wouldn’t chew her out, would he?

Then she realized that when she screwed up, Ethan would give her a hard time, no matter the fact that he would take her for a dinner after that.

“Should I go with you?” she whispered to Sienna, worried about the scene that was about to happen.

Sienna smiled sadly and shook her head, already following Ethan’s steps.

He was already standing behind his desk when she came in, his expression unreadable.

 “Take a seat, Dr. Trinh,” he gestured towards a chair, not taking a seat himself, however.

Sienna sat down, her head hanging low, waiting for the outburst.

“I was about to make myself a cup of coffee. Can I offer you one?” Ethan asked quietly.

She lifted her head up abruptly, not believing the words she just heard and nodded quickly, before Dr. Ramsey would change his mind.

“Is this about me leaving a patient and crying in a supply closet, Dr. Ramsey?” she asked with voice so quiet it could have been a whisper, as he handed her a mug.

“Yes. This is the fifth or sixth time I have seen you walking in or out of a supply closet, crying, Dr. Trinh and I am speaking of a period of last three weeks maybe. What is going on? You know this cannot go on like this anymore.”

Sienna put the mug on a desk and started to play with the hem of her white coat, hoping that Ethan wouldn’t notice the tears streaming down her face again.

“I am sorry, Dr. Ramsey. I know my behavior hasn’t been professional and that leaving a patient like that is unacceptable and I promise to do my best to avoid such situations in the future.”

Ethan sighed, leaning into his chair, tilting his head slightly as he observed the obviously broken form of a tiny doctor in front of him. He avoided these situations as much as he could – Naveen was the one to confront while also comforting. Ethan was the bad cop, always.

But Naveen wasn’t here and Sienna needed a good mentor, badly.

“I asked what is going on. I know you are a professional, Dr. Trinh, so I need an explanation of the situation.”

Sienna was openly crying now, all the awful thoughts running through her head.

“It’s just… this patient, he was so, so rude to me. He walked into free clinic and I knew he needed to be admitted so I’ve had a nurse admit him and as soon as I could, I went to his room to do the tests and all the time, he was telling me to fuck off – he literally used these words – and asked me to get him a real doctor and that I was just a child pretending to know what I am doing and that he would never let me do as much as draw his blood,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her white coat.

Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out a nice white cotton handkerchief, handing it to her without saying a word. She nodded thankfully, acknowledging the gesture and after a while decided to go on.

“And you know. Dr. Ramsey, this is not an unknown situation to me. Because I am so tiny and smiling all the time, the patients tend to question my abilities as a doctor. Men, mostly. Sometimes, they have these terrible sexist remarks, I remember one patient telling me that I could take his pain away with my pretty little hands,” she blinked rapidly several times, fighting the tears of disgust.

“I am used to these situations and I believed I could handle them well. The thing is, every time I have had a patient like this and I felt uncomfortable or even unsafe, I would just page Danny with our secret code and he would storm into the room with his ‘badass nurse’ face on and usually that would work. These men respected him more than me, because he was a man too, you know? And I felt safe when he was there with me. But now,” she covered her mouth with her hand as a terrible, broken sound left her, her whole body shaking with sobs.

Ethan stood up from his chair and walked past the desk to kneel down next to her, putting his reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Now he is gone and every time I deal with a patient that is rude, I am hit with the fact that I will never get to see his badass nurse face again. And I know I should be happy. I should be happy about Chiara being okay and Rafael being okay, and I am, oh God I am so thankful that they are here, alive and well, but still it hurts like hell, not having Danny around. It has been months and I still feel like I can’t breathe every single time I pass that room. And I keep screwing up, again and again. I screwed up with my intern and now he is gone. I screw up with my friends and with my patients and I am trying so hard to go on with my life, because all of my friends can do that, even Chiara can do that, but it’s just all too much now, you know? I just wish I could leave this city for some time and just… do something entirely else for a while. Be someone else.”

Ethan kept staring at Sienna for a long time, realizing for the first time, how much the accident has affected her.

He wouldn’t get through losing Chiara, if she didn’t make it that day. He would rather die with her and it didn’t matter that at the time of the accident, they weren’t official.

So what was the difference with Sienna and Danny? Did it matter that they weren’t official, if they cared about each other deeply?

He stood up again and grabbed his coffee, intending to finish it before they would have to leave his office to work again. There was an idea playing in his head and by pretending to savour every sip of his beverage, he was gaining himself some time to compose the proposition in his head.

Sienna, too, decided to finish the coffee, preparing herself to go back to the room 421 to draw the damn blood.

“You probably haven’t heard about it, Dr. Trinh,” Ethan finally broke the silence that was becoming a little bit too uncomfortable. “But there’s this thing… Dr. Mirani, I mean Baz Mirani, is leaving to Philippines after Edenbrook is closed. He will go with Doctors Without Borders for six months to help at Calicoan Island. If you could see this as an opportunity for you, I could be able to arrange for you to join him as his protégé. Don’t feel pressured into this, please, but knowing Baz, he would be happy for your company and it could help you after all. I am now speaking from personal experience.”

“Your little trip to Amazon, huh?” Sienna couldn’t help but smile a little.

Ethan simply nodded, finishing his coffee. There was no point in telling her that in his case, leaving to Amazon didn’t help his problems at all.

“I will think about it. Thank you, Dr. Ramsey. I should go to see Mr. Lowes, I still need to draw his blood.”

Ethan nodded and grabbed his white coat. “I’ll go with you.”

If Sienna was surprised, she did a good job at hiding it. She just smiled thankfully, the first genuine smile that day.

“And for what it’s worth, if you ever find yourself feeling uncomfortable or unsafe with a patient, you can always page me.”

There was another kind of tears now threating to fall from Sienna’s eyes as he said that. She gulped visibly but instead of thanking him again, she said: “Chiara is really lucky to have you, Dr. Ramsey.”

Ethan smiled at her with the soft, gentle smile she has never thought could be addressed for someone else as Chiara.

“She is also incredibly lucky to have you, Sienna.”

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 11 of 27: Desperation

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHAPTER 10 CHOOSE ME INSTEAD - MASTERLIST

A/N: Dumblr had some issues with the tagging system and a lot of people didn’t get tagged for some reason. I hope it works today though! Once again: THANK YOU FOR ALL THE AMAZING SUPPORT! OMFG I LOVE YOU ALL TO DEATH! Seriously, ilysm! I’m so happy you like my story <33 Also have fun with some ANGST ^^

Words: 5.8k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader, post war Warnings: blood, description of wounds, mentions of suicide, panic attacks, anxiety, a lot of angst my loves

“Draco?”

It was nothing more than a whisper. You stood frozen in place, staring at the bathroom door. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that you were scared it would jump out any second now. Every breath that left your lungs trembled, showing the panic you tried to swallow down so badly. It was an eerie feeling – standing here in their empty room. The water of the Black Lake illuminated the room in a soft green light. You blinked and wondered if the shadow behind the glass had been just a figment of your imagination.

You cleared your throat. “Draco?”

Five large steps and you crossed the room. “Draco, it’s me,” you tried to sound as calm and collected as you possibly could and you were glad he couldn’t see the way, you started to pick at your thumb. It would start to bleed soon, you were sure. You turned the doorknob but Zabini and Nott had been right. Draco had locked himself in.

There was no response from inside. He had gone silent. When you pressed the air against the wooden door, you could still hear suppressed whimpers. Your heart began to race again. Something was wrong, so very wrong.

„Draco, let me in, please,” you said a little louder and a little more panicked. “I can help you, just let me in!”

“No!”

You flinched at his sudden reaction.

“No, y-you can’t … you can’t h-help m-me.” The way his voice broke at the end of the sentence made it feel like he stabbed you with sharp knife. You swallowed, fighting the tears that began to dwell up. He needed your help now. You needed to be strong for him now, there was no point in him seeing you cry. This wasn’t about you.

“I’m coming in,” you announced and pulled out your wand. He made weak sounds of protest but you ignored them. Three deep breaths, you thought to yourself. Then I’m going in.

One … Two … Three.

“Alohomora.” There was a click and door slowly opened, accompanied by a high-pitched creaking noise.

You gasped when you took in the scene that unfolded in front of you. The bathroom was a mess. It looked a potions experiment gone wrong. Containers filled with liquids and other ingredients were scattered all over the wet floor. Pieces of broken glass filled the sink and a pungent smell that burned in your lungs hit you when you stepped in.

Draco Malfoy, the sarcastic Slytherin who never shied away from a confrontation and always had a witty comeback ready, sat on the floor and looked like a picture of misery. He leaned against the tub, legs stretched out and his left wrist pressed tightly against his chest. His white shirt was wet with water and …

You shrieked and put a hand over your mouth when you realized that it was blood that gave his shirt a light red color, running down his wrist and dropping from his elbow onto the dark tiles. Draco lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since you walked in. His face was red, his eyes swollen and puffy from crying. His body was still shaking, trembling sobs he desperately tried to suppress were echoing through the small room.

It was the look in his eyes that made you drop to the floor on your knees. So full of pain and heartbreak. A sadness he shouldn’t be able to feel at his young age that made you lose the ground below your feet. “Oh god, Draco, oh god,” you whispered. You reached for the wrist he was still pressing up against his chest. “What did you do? Oh god, oh –”

Tears began to stream down his face again and sobs shook his body. He mumbled something you couldn’t understand but tried to turn and get away from your touch. Your heart was beating in your throat now and you quickly examined the situation. There wasn’t much blood so you guessed he didn’t … you couldn’t even finish that sentence in your head. Nonetheless, you reached for a towel behind you.

“Let me see, please,” your voice was heavy with worry and fear. “I want to help you. I need to see what happened.”

“No,” he croaked, staring at the ground. “No, p-please leave, Y/N…”

You shook your head vehemently. “No, I won’t go. I won’t leave you here, you’re obviously hurt and –”

“I don’t … I don’t w-want you to s-see me like this,” he spoke so softly, you could barely understand him. “So … so w-weak …”

A single tear ran down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away before he could see it. Then you reached for his face with your right hand. “Draco, you’re not weak,” you could feel him leaning into your touch, “but you have to let me help you now!”

His breathing was ragged. Draco didn’t reply.

“There is no shame in asking for help. Let me be there you,” you urged him, putting your other hand on his wrist. There was no force in your gesture; you simply let it rest there.

It felt like an eternity. You kneeled on the floor, water soaking through the thin fabric of your uniform. You’d probably start to feel cold if there wasn’t so much adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“I wanted to make it go away.”

It was more of a whimper than anything else. A simple sentence that beared so much pain. However, you didn’t know what it meant.

“What?”, you tilted your head in confusion.

“It“, he spat out. You moved in a little closer. “I can’t stand to look at it anymore. I am so … I am so disgusting … I …”, he sniffled. “I don’t want to see it anymore … it’s always there … I tried everything …”

In this moment, the scales fell from your eyes. Your gaze dropped down to his arm underneath your hand – his left arm. You had never seen him without long sleeves that covered both his arms. Up to now, there had never been a reason for it. It was winter by now and always a little chilly in the castle. Now you realized that there was a second reason why he wouldn’t show the skin of precisely this arm.

„Draco…” You didn’t know what you were going to say. What was there to say? What could you possibly do to ease his suffering?

„I just wanted it to go away …”, he continued, staring on the black tiles. “When Pansy …”

Your eyes widened at the confession. Parkinson messed up her potion this morning and Slughorn explained what it would do to the human skin. You remembered how his voice sounded when he asked what Pansy did wrong.

Oh no.

“You …?”

His head snapped towards you at your unspoken accusation and he looked at you with a clenched jaw.

“Oh Merlin,” you uttered in complete disbelief.

“Don’t pity me!”, he snapped. It reminded you of his old self. Scenes of him insulting Harry in the Great Hall flashed in front of your eyes.

“I don’t, Draco”, you tried to sound as comforting as you could. “I don‘t, believe me. But I see that you’re in pain. And you’re bleeding.” Tightening your grip on his wrist, you gave him a serious look.

His lips began to quiver again, his breathing becoming heavier.

“May I …?”, you asked. “I just want to stop the bleeding.”

Finally, he relaxed slightly and let you take his wrist. You grab it carefully, making sure not to hurt him, and turned it so you could see the damage.

His arm was decorated with a gaping wound, full of blisters and blood that oozed from them. It looked like a someone tried to scrape the skin off with a dull knife before putting it on a hot stove. Beneath it, a part of the Dark Mark was still untouched and visible; the black stood in sharp contrast with his pale skin and the sight of the skull made your blood freeze.

What happened next was something that you would scold yourself for the next days to come: you gagged and almost let go of his arm.

Draco felt it, of course he did, and another sob escaped him. He tried to pull his arm back but you tightened your grip, not allowing him do so. Apologies tumbled over your lips and you quickly grabbed the towel. Before you started to wrap it around the wound, you mumbled a few spells, trying to help him at least a little. Nothing worked. You had to bring him to Madame Pomfrey. He needed a professional healer not a student with mediocre magical capabilities. You made sure that the towel was wrapped his arm tightly to stop the bleeding. Draco flinched and drew breath through his teeth. More apologies from you followed, a stumbling mess. You were overwhelmed with the situation, nothing could have prepared you for this.

„It hurts so much …”, he croaked when you put his arm back in his initial position – pressed against his chest.

„I know, I’m sorry,” you said full of remorse. “We will bring you to Madame Pomfrey and she will give you something for the pain.”

He sighed and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant…”

You looked up at his words. “What do you mean, Draco?”

He needed a moment to answer. You didn’t push him, you just rested one hand on his thigh, stroking it softly. You weren’t sure if you did it to calm him or yourself.

“Everything,” he closed his eyes. “Being here. Getting up in the morning. Going to sleep in the evening.”

You let out a deep breath, not liking the direction this conversation was going. Not liking it all. „What?”, your voice only trembled a little.

„I keep thinking about it …”, his eyes were still closed. “It hardly ever leaves my mind …”

“About what?”, you wanted to know with a more pressing undertone now.

Draco finally opened his eyes. He looked so tired, so exhausted. „About what I did,” he finally explained. “What my parents did. About my life … I’m wrong…”

You furrowed your brows. “What makes you say that?”

He chuckled; it was a bitter, sad laugh. “Don’t play pretend, you know what I mean … You’re not wrong. You’re right. Everything about you is right. Everything about me is wrong. Everything I learned, everything I believed in …” He trailed off.

Oh. Now you understood what he tried to say. Something you had guessed all along, from the day you met. It explained his changes and his odd behavior. It was what draw you in at the beginning of the school year, fascinating you from afar. Seeing it unfolding in front of you was terrifying though.

You reached for his healthy hand and squeezed it softly. “You’re not wrong.”

A tear ran down his cheek. You suppressed the urge to wipe it away. “But I am, I –”

“No”, you interrupted him harshly. “You’re not wrong, Draco. Listen to me, please!” Putting a hand to his face, you forced him to look at you. “You were a child and you didn’t have a choice! The mistakes of your parents don’t define you.”

He smiled sadly. “Easy to say for someone with picture perfect parents.”

“My parents raised a Death Eater,” you scoffed. The sentence stung. You had never said it out loud. Yet it was the only thing that came to your mind in this moment. When you continued speaking, your voice grew softer: “Your parents raised a spoilt child, yes, but they didn’t raise a Death Eater. The past weeks with you … I saw you! Your efforts to change, to do better … it’s not too late. You recognized what went wrong and you want to learn and be a better man and Draco, that is worth so much.”

His body had begun to shake again, tears dwelling up in his puffy eyes. “I just want the pain to stop …”

“I know,” you sighed and pulled him into a hug. He didn’t resist. “I know, I’m so sorry, I wish I could –”

“Please make it stop,” he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. You felt his hot breath against your skin as he sobbed quietly.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumbled and stroked over his back. “I wish I could but –”

Suddenly, something happened. You didn’t know how it happened, but it did. Draco sat back, freeing himself from the hug and then … he kissed you.

It was a rough kiss, full of despair and a passion only found in situations like these. He grabbed you by your neck, pulling you close. His lips were soft and tasted salty from his tears as he moved them against yours. There was nothing sweet about this – he wanted to forget, turn off the pain and drown out the fear by feeling you – by being close to you.

It took you a few seconds to realize what was going on. You placed your hands on his chest, breaking the kiss and pushing him away. “Draco, no …”, you stared at him in shock.

He reached out for you again, tears streaming down his face. A shiver ran down your spine when you saw his desperation. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, you can fix me…” He sobbed and leaned against you. Wrapping your arms around him, you wanted to scream. You didn’t know what to do, you weren’t prepared for this, you couldn’t help him.

“The only time I feel alive is when I’m with you, Y/N, the only time I feel like I’m alright is when I’m with you,” he muttered against the fabric of your uniform. “Please, fix me …”

You were crying now as well, completely overwhelmed. “No,”, you whispered, “No, I can’t fix you. I’m sorry, I can’t fix you …”

“Please …”

“I can be here for you, I will be here for you,” the panic didn’t leave your voice. “I can’t fix you, Draco, I don’t know how … I shouldn’t be…”

You weren’t sure for how long you sat in the bathroom with Draco. Minutes? Hours? All you knew in this moment was his trembling body against yours, his pleas for someone – for you – to help him and the fear in your system that made you stammer the same sentences over and over again.

Suddenly there was a hand on your shoulder. Theodor Nott knelt beside you, saying something you didn’t understand. Then Zabini appeared behind him. He reached for Draco, pulling him up on his feet. Nott helped you, putting one arm around your waist. Together you made your way to the hospital wing.

 ***

It was early in the morning when Draco woke up.

Upon reaching the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey had ordered the boys to put Draco down in the nearest bed, attending to him right away. She whirled around, asking you all sorts of questions to which mostly Nott answered, before grabbing potions and weird smelling herbs and getting to work.

Nott got a chair for you to sit down next to Dracos bed. Then he and Zabini got sent out. When Madame Pomfrey was done treating his arm, she turned her attention towards you and handed you a funny looking liquid to drink.

“To calm your nerves, honey,” she had said and insisted that you finished it. It tasted disgusting. Yet, whatever it was, it seemed to help. You slowly began to feel better and at some point, you let the exhaustion take over and drifted off to sleep.

It wasn’t until Draco woke up that you did too. Something had startled you. Blinking and yawning, you sat back up in your chair. Your limbs and neck hurt from the uncomfortable position you had been in for the last few hours.

Looking at his bed, you saw Draco laying on his back, his eyes fixated on the ceiling, an empty expression on his face.

“Hey,” you whispered and leaned over to hold his hand. He didn’t react.

“How are you feeling?”, you asked, looking at the bandage around his arm.

Draco turned his head towards you. “Better, I guess,” his voice was still hoarse. “I don’t feel so …”

You chuckled. “Yeah, she gave me the same thing.”

A sad smile appeared on his lips. He looked at you for a while, an unreadable expression in his eyes. “I’m so … sorry,” he cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You shook your head. “Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Yes, I do,” he replied. “I was a mess and –”

“That’s okay,” you tried to comfort him. “Happens to the best of us.”

“Having breakdowns about being a Death Eater?”, he frowned.

You snorted. “Maybe that’s only a thing for former Death Eaters, I admit that.”

The corners of his lips twitched but he didn’t smile. “I’m sorry about the kiss though.”

A sigh escaped your lips at the memory. Yeah. That happened. You almost forgot. „It’s fine. Pain leads us to do stupid things.“

“You’re not mad?“, he asked.

Again, you shook your head. “Of course not.”

Relieved, Draco let out a deep breath and turned his head to look back up at the ceiling. “We probably pretended for too long, I have to remind myself that we’re not actually dating.”

The confession took you by surprise. You frowned as you looked at him. He didn’t say anything else though and so you stayed there together in silence, holding hands. Outside, the sun started to rise, golden rays of sunlight flowing into the dark room. Classes would probably start soon. You were still wearing your Quidditch uniform and you crinkled your nose in disgust at the realization. You desperately needed a shower and a new set of clothes.

After a while, his eyelids began to flutter. With a smile, you watched Draco fall asleep.

You made sure Draco was actually sleeping before you let go of his hand and got up. Your whole body felt stiff and you cracked your neck. Then you walked over to Madame Pomfreys office. There was something that still needed to be done.

“Good morning,” the healer greeted you with a warm smile when you stepped inside. “How are you feeling, dear?”

“Better,” you replied. “Tired mostly.”

“That’s good,” she said. “I imagine it was quite a shock for you last night. Make sure to take a nap after classes.”

“I will.”

She smiled again before turning her attention back towards the book on your table. You hesitated, not knowing how to address it. When Madame Pomfrey noticed you weren’t leaving, she looked at you with worry. “Is there something else, dear?”

You sighed and rubbed over your neck. “Yes, actually,” you paused briefly. “It’s about Draco.”

She closed the book and leaned back in her chair. “What about Mr. Malfoy? Does he need something?”

You nodded. “Yes. A therapist.“

Madame Pomfrey raised her eyebrows, her mouth forming a quiet “oh”. This was the first time in her career as a healer that someone asked for that.

“I know, it’s not really a thing in the Wizarding World,” you continued quickly, scared she would interrupt you and send you outside. “It’s more common with the muggles but I read about it and I think it’s a good thing.”

“You believe, Mr. Malfoy needs a therapist?”, she asked slowly and folded her hands on the table. “You believe, I can’t help him?”

“No, that’s not what I said,” you defended yourself. “I believe you’re excellent at what you do but some wounds … some wounds can’t be treated with potions and herbs, Madame Pomfrey.”

The healer thought for a while. For so long in fact, you began to start feeling increasingly nervous, shifting uncomfortably. It wasn’t the first time you thought about bringing it up with her. Draco wasn’t the only who suffered, after all. The thought began to grow when you saw how your mother started grow colder. When you had to wake Ginny up from yet another nightmare and when McGonagall shouted at you to leave after a student had a panic attack in the hallways. There was no help for them. And sleeping medicine could only get you so far. What happened to Draco last night was only the last straw for you.

Madame Pomfrey sighed. When she looked back up, she seemed to have aged rapidly. “It’s sad, really, that poor boy …,” her gaze trailed off to the hospital wings behind you. “All those students ...”

“I believe a lot of the students could benefit from a professional to help them deal with everything that happened,” you added, looking expectantly at her.

Finally, she nodded. “Alright, let me see what I can do.”

A feeling of relief overcame you. “Thank you, Madame Pomfrey! Thank you!”

 ***

On the way to the common room, you were met with a lot of confused looks from your classmates. What it must have looked like for then – you in a dirty, bloody Quidditch uniform at seven in the morning, tired and exhausted like you spent the night outside. You were sure that rumors would spread like wildfire once Draco didn’t turn up for classes and someone mentioned how they saw you this morning. It was nothing you cared about though. Not right now.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

The voice of Professor Slughorn made you turn around in the hallway. The old man walked towards you with a quick step. Judging by the expression on his face, he had already heard what happened to Draco.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he lowered his voice when he reached you and saw the curious looks of some students around.

“Good morning, Professor,” you greeted him with half a smile.

“I heard about what happened to Mr. Malfoy last night, I hope you are alright?”

You nodded at his question.

“Good, good,” he continued. “I didn’t want to bother him but I know you and Mr. Malfoy have become rather close during those past weeks.”

When you noticed that he waited for some sort of approval, you nodded again. You didn’t understand where he was going with this.

“Just let him know that … his actions have no further consequences. I believe what happened is punishment enough.”

The statement made you take a step back. You furrowed your brows, as you stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“Oh,” Professor Slughorn cleared his throat. “He stole from my potions. But it will have no further consequences. I wanted to make that clear. Maybe you could tell him.”

“Right,” you scoffed. “Good for Draco.”

Slughorn looked at you for a moment as if he waited for you to thank him. You couldn’t believe him – his student, whose history he was well aware of, hurt himself in a mental breakdown and Slughorn expected you to be grateful for not punishing him for it? By Merlin, that’s why you needed a therapist in this damn school.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he then said. “Mr. Malfoy made some questionable choices in his past. He now needs to learn how to deal with it. He can’t hide behind his trauma forever and use it as an excuse for his behavior.”

You gritted your teeth. What was the punishment for punching a teacher in the face?

“Have a good day, Professor.”

 ***

Three Days later ...

Draco was released from the hospital wing on the same morning but was excused from school for the rest of the week. As you had suspected, rumors began to spread quickly.

“He tried to kill himself,” a student from Ravenclaw announced loudly during lunch at one point.

“I heard, he overdosed on some muggle drug,” a Hufflepuff said to his friends in the hallway. “You know how Slytherins are …”

“Maybe it was a fight between Y/L/N and Malfoy. He probably tried to hurt her or something, the whole relationship is doomed to fail. It’s Malfoy for Merlin’s sake …”

It was in this moment that you decided to hex everyone who had something to say about Draco.

Your friends peppered you with questions. Ginny was particularly curious about where you spent the night but you stayed silent, trying to appease her with vague explanations about an accident that sent Draco into the Hospital wing. Whether she believed it or not – she stopped asking after a while. It was really none of her business, you felt. Draco wouldn’t want her to know. It was bad enough that Zabini and Nott knew. From what you could tell, they kept quiet though.

You didn’t see Draco for three days after you left the hospital wing that morning. After classes when you wanted to visit him, he was already gone. He didn’t show up to meals. But you noticed how Astoria always took a full plate of food with her. It bothered you. It left an ugly feeling behind whenever you saw her leaving the table like that. She shouldn’t be the one taking care of him. She hadn’t been there. You had. In fact, you were his girlfriend …

Fake girlfriend, you corrected yourself.

At night, you barely got any sleep. You stared at the ceiling in the darkness for hours, thinking about that evening in the Slytherin bathroom. Feelings of worry alternated with the frustration that he put you in the situation. But were you really frustrated with him? Or were you upset at yourself, at how much it shook you to the core?

Why?, you kept asking yourself. Why do I care so much? How did I end up here?

He was a friend, a dear friend, and you’d do anything for your friends. A lot of them had gone through hard times as well and you were always there for them. But this? It felt different. Not once, even when they were at their lowest, did you feel this scared. So helpless and angry at yourself that you couldn’t do anything.

Fix me.

The words had stayed with you. Together with the pain when they were spoken. You couldn’t. The only thing you could do was be there for him when he fixed himself – and shockingly, you wanted to do exactly that. In fact, you wanted to do more than that. You wanted to be the one that brings him his food when he’s feeling too weak to go to meals and you wanted to hug him and tell him over and over again that nothing about him was wrong. That he could change and he could get through this. He was strong enough. You knew it.

Is this what friendship is supposed to feel like?

 ***

You sat in the Room of Requirements when he walked in.

It was the same room you had been in two weeks ago when you looked for Christmas presents. A small fire crackled in the fireplace and you sat on the couch with a warm blanket and your favorite book.

“Hi,” Draco said simply.

Surprised, you looked up from your book. You hadn’t expected him to come here. “How did you find me?”, you asked.

Draco gave a half shrug. “You weren’t in the library and your friends said, you wanted to be alone for a while. So I figured.”

He looked a lot better than three days ago. He wore his usual black suit again and his hair was flawless. Not a single strand was out of place. But the exhaustion was still visible on him and his posture seemed a little too stiff as stood in the doorway.

“Who did you ask?”, you wanted to know. Scooting over, you gestured him to take a seat next to you.

“Granger.”

A low chuckle escaped your lips.

“And yes,” he continued as he sat down. “It was just as awkward as you imagine it right now.”

You snorted. “Well, I appreciate the effort.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. You didn’t know what to say. Hey, remember when you had that panic attack and hid from me for three days? Yeah. Probably not. Besides, you couldn’t be mad that he wanted to be alone. You didn’t blame him for it. It was understandable and you weren’t entitled to his attention. However, it still hurt.

“I have to apologize again”, he began.

With a sigh, you put the book on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. “You already did that,” you said. “It’s okay.”

Draco rubbed over his neck. He didn’t apologize very often apparently, judging by his discomfort. “No, for … the past days.”

A smile appeared on your lips. “It’s fine. You had … people in your house who took care of you.”

Draco shot you a glance, knowing well what you were referring to. “I didn’t want her to.”

You immediately felt dumb and insensitive. Merlin, why would you say this to him. “Draco…no,” you groaned. “No, this wasn’t what I meant. I feel stupid, urgh.”

“I –”, he started but you cut him off.

“Do not apologize. You’re going through a hard time. Obviously,” you shook your head. Then your voice became a little softer: “I understand that and I just want you to become better. I can’t believe I somehow made that about me, I’m sorry.”

He smiled at you. “Don’t be. It’s confusing for all of us.”

You nodded and leaned back against the couch. A few days ago, you would’ve touched him in some little way. Now there was a distance between you. It made you wonder if what happened changed the dynamic between the two of you. “So, how are you?”, you broke the silence.

He shrugged again and looked into the fire. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. I was worried about you.”

“I’m supposed to see a therapist now.”

A rush of happiness made your eyes lit up at his sentence. “Yeah … that was my idea.”

“Really?”, he turned to and a small smirk played around the corners of his lips. You were so relieved to see it. “Well, sounds like you.”

You chuckled. “Did you already see them?”

He shook his head. “Tomorrow. It wasn’t easy to find one. It’s not that common in our world.”

Even though he was right, you were surprised by how fast McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey started looking for one. Maybe they finally realized how important it was for the students to actually deal with their traumas and not just take sleeping potions.

“Well, I’m glad,” you announced.

“Let’s see how it goes. Father used to make fun of them a lot,” his eyes flickered to fire again and his voice changed as he remembered. “He said it was one of the reasons why the muggles are so weak. They can’t even deal with their own life.”

What a load of bullshit, you thought and wondered if his mother shared those opinions. She must have. How else would a woman survive a marriage with a man like that. You stayed silent though.

Draco looked at you again. “Thank you.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “For what?”

“Being there,” he explained. “You didn’t have to.”

“I’m your girlfriend, aren’t I?”, you joked.

“I mean …  not really though,” he smirked again. There it was – that little stinging near your heart. You ignored it.

“True,” you replied. “Still, you’re my friend.”

Draco nodded. He leaned back against the sofa and by the way he stretched out his leg, you could tell he was starting to feel more relaxed now. “What I said to you … what I want you to do …”, he cleared his throat while fidgeting with the hem of the blanket. “I overreacted. I … don’t expect you to …”

He had trailed off but you knew what he was trying to say. “I’m happy to hear that,” you admitted softly. Then you reached for his hand. “I will be here and support you for as long as you let me, Draco. Please know that.”

Draco looked at your entangled hands and then back at you. “Thank you.” His eyes met yours and for some reason, you couldn’t look away. You were mesmerized by them and they reminded you of a storm in the middle of November while …

“Well,” you loudly announced and broke the eye contact. “It’s getting too fluffy in here.”

Draco laughed softly. It was a low sound that resonated within you.

“Can I see it?”, you suddenly asked before you could think about it.

He furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“The wound,” you pointed at his arm. “Or is it still bandaged?”

“No, but … she managed to heal it,” he nervously licked over his lips. “There are no … residues.”

“What about the mark?” It was probably too straightforward. But you didn’t care as you had already seen it once now in a worse situation.

“Still there,” his gaze lingered on his arm as if he saw right through the black jacket. “Didn’t work, I suppose.”

“Can I see it?”

Draco’s head snapped in your direction. “Y/N …”

You just looked at him calmly. His eyes darted back and forth between his arm and you and you practically saw how he thought about all the options he had right now. Did he trust you enough for this? If not, why didn’t he after he allowed you to see him in his most vulnerable moment?

With a sigh, he suddenly got up and out of his jacket. He threw it on the armchair, before he began to roll up his sleeve and sat back down, holding the arm your direction. You leaned forward.

There it was. A huge, black memory of a life that was no longer his. The constant reminder of the pain and suffering that followed the Mark wherever it was seen. It stood in sharp contrast to his skin, just as you remembered. Now, however, you were able to see the whole thing. The wound was almost completely gone, only a little redness remained. You wondered how it must have felt when they burned it on his skin.

Without thinking about it, you raised a hand and touched it. Draco shuddered and his arm twitched. You looked up at him, wondering if it hurt. It didn’t seem that way. At least not physically. His eyes were fixated on the pillow and you noticed the way he clenched his jaw. Turning your attention back on the mark, you began to trace the outlines of it with your finger.

„I always thought it would feel … different,” you mumbled. Then you looked up at him again. You saw how he tried to blink away tears and once again, your heart broke. “We’ll be okay, Draco.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

***

A/N: Thank you for reading! <3 What do you think about it? I’d love to hear your thoughts on this chapter, my loves <33

CHAPTER 12

Choose Me Instead Masterlist HP Masterlist

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If you want to be added to my tag list, let me know <3

[belovedbangtan]

DIVE : Part 2

<Part 1>

Pairings: Jungkook x y/n, Yoongi x oc

Word Count: 4.4k

Description: Camping with your ex, sounds horrible right? The camping trip was planned and payed for long before y/n’s shitty boyfriend broke up with her. Her best friend Abby, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook are there to make sure she has an amazing time. However, sharing a tent with a smoke show like Jungkook is bound to lead to some complications.

Warnings: Language, lap dance, streaking, alcohol use, dom!Jk, sub!yn, fingering.

✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️

When you wake up the next morning, Jungkook is already gone. You quickly start to brush your hair and make yourself look somewhat presentable before anyone has the chance to see you. You brush your hair, putting it in a simple braid to the side. You shuffle though your bag of clothes pulling out a baggy t-shirt and another pair of jean shorts. You jump when you hear the zip of the tent as you’re pulling the shorts over your hips.

“Sup Sexy lady.” Abby sings as she barges inside, plopping down on the air mattress.

“Fuck, you scared me. I thought you were Jungkook,” You scold as you pull the shirt over your bralette.

“Wait,” she sits up and looks around with a disgusted look on her face, “Should I be on this mattress?”

“Oh my god. We definitely didn’t sleep together if that’s what you’re implying.” You roll your eyes as you fold Jungkook’s blanket.

Abby’s lower lip jets out, “But why not.” She pretends to wipe a tear away.

“Uhm, idk maybe because I haven’t even talked to the dude.”

“Well… Kook, Tae, Jimin and Yoongi all want to go Horseback riding if you,” She wiggles her eyebrows, “would like to talk to ‘the dude’,” She rolls her eyes as she quotes me.

“And you’re ex is doing something with his group of douches.”

“Okay, that sounds fun.”

You both left the tent and met up with the boys who were waiting patiently for you by the SUV. When you got there you instantly noticed the way Jungkook’s eyes made their way up your body. When his eyes meet yours you quickly look away. Tae holds the door open for you as you approach, you slide in and he slides in after you.

“I almost punched your ex in the mouth last night.” Tae blurts out unexpectantly.

“What the fuck!” You gasp but you can’t help but laugh at the image of that. It’s definitely something you wouldn’t mind seeing. Tae starts to explain that after you had fallen asleep he came over to their beer pong game, and started to trash talk you.

“Kept saying that ‘it’s pathetic that she came to babysit me’ and shit like that. Like he deadass believes you’re here to win him back.” Tae’s eyes roll into the back of his head.

You take a deep breath, unsure of how to process the new information. If you were being honest, you didn’t think he thought about you at all. So for him to bring you up in conversation was a bit unexpected, and out of character. However, him claiming that you were there to ‘babysit him’ was something you could definitely hear him saying.

“You aren’t here to get him back are you?” Tae’s eyes widen as he looks over at you, “Because I definitely did not say nice things to him.” His presses his lips together thinking he might have fucked up.

“Are you kidding? No. Not a chance in hell.” You scoff.

“Good. You deserve better than that asshole, I can’t believe how close we used to be. Fuck… Jungkook was best friends with him when they were kids.” Jimin blurts out.

You slowly turn around to make eye contact with Jungkook. How did you not know this information. After being with Ben for nearly a year, you had no clue. Jungkook looks up at you raising his eyebrows and nodding as if to tell you that it was true, and definitely not something he liked to talk about.

“So, if you don’t like him, why do you guys hang out?” you ask the obvious question, hoping for a simply explanation.

“I mean, we’re still friends with people in his group of friends. So when we have big events, he’s always there,” Jimin explains he shrugs, “I guess we haven’t really thought about it much until now.”

You nod, looking out the window. You think about it and it makes sense. Anytime you went to a gathering, things were always awkward between Ben and the boys. Most of Ben’s friends would talk to them casually, and it was never awkward or uncomfortable. You remember Abby warning you before you were brainwashed into giving him a chance. She couldn’t give a reason to say no to him, you assumed because she didn’t know him well enough. Eventually she reasoned and backed off, telling you that she would support whatever decision you made.

After a short ride you finally arrive to the stables. You go inside and pay, then the instructors designate a horse for each person. The instructor brings over a beautiful grey horse, named Eve. You lightly pat her before your instructor helps you over. After everyone has mounted  their horse, you start on the trail. Side by side, Yoongi was next to Abby, Tae next to Jimin, then Jungkook was next to you. The instructors were ahead and behind the group to make sure the horses were behaving properly.

The trail you chose was supposed to take you to the top of the mountain to a lookout. You definitely didn’t anticipate the rocky terrain, or the feeling that you would fall off the horse. After a few minutes you peak over when you hear a quiet laugh coming from Jungkook.

“What’s so funny?” you blurt out, still maintaining your stiff posture.

“Are you scared?” He looks over at you with a smirk plastered across his face.

“No,” You attempt to loosen your grip, instantly regretting the decision to do so, “and if I was, should you really be laughing at me?” You mumble breathlessly.

He giggles, “No. Probably not,” You watch him as he pushes his lips out in attempt to hide the apparent humor in his features, “Look, just relax. You’re not going to fall off.” He lets go of the harness and leans back. He wiggles his body to show you that it’s okay to move.

“Eve, you’re not gonna let y/n fall are you,” He leans forward asking your horse with a voice sweeter than honey, “Yeah, see… she said no. So just relax, babe.” He says calmly.

You giggle as he attempts to distract you, you don’t miss the way the nickname makes your body heat up, “Okay, okay,” you sit up and roll your neck, loosening your body one limb at a time, “this better? Do I look like a pro?” You giggle, you’re knuckles still white from your tight grip on harness.

He laughs hard this time, “Mhm, definitely a Pro. The cutest Horseback rider I’ve ever seen, that’s for sure.”

Your cheeks turn a deep shade of red and you try your hardest to maintain your composure.

“So you used to be best friends with Ben?” You ask quietly hopefully changing the subject.

He sighs loudly, looking off in the distance, “Unfortunately.” He responds quietly.

You nod, clearly not wanted to press on if he was uncomfortable. He clears his throat,

“Our parents were good friends. We stayed friends through school, until he slept with not 1, not 2, but 3 of my girlfriends.” He laughed to himself, shaking his head in disapproval, “And he would tell me, it wasn’t his fault my girls were such whores.” He mumbles.

You bite your lip, closing your eyes for just a moment. You couldn’t believe you wasted an entire year with someone as disgusting as him. You wondered if he cheated on you while you were with him. More than anything you were pissed that someone would do that to their so called friend. You couldn’t imagine the pain that must’ve cause Jungkook.

“That’s fucking awful, I’m sorry he did that.” You apologize even though you know it won’t mean anything.

“No its fine, just made me realize what a piece of shit he is. Just sucks we still have the same friend groups.”

“He is most definitely a piece of shit,” You chuckle, at least you can agree with that.

“Yeah I don’t know why someone like you even entertained someone like him for that long.”

All you hear him say is ‘someone like you’ and you need to know what that means. You pause before asking because you’re not sure you’re even ready to hear his answer.

“Someone like me?”

He smiles, “Yeah, you know. Someone smart, caring, down to earth, beautiful,” He pauses to look over at you, “the whole package, some might say.”

You look over at him in complete shock, you nod your head slowly looking for the words to follow up, but you can’t find them.

“Some might say?” You hear Tae laugh from the horse in front of you, “Bro, you’re the one that says that.”

Jungkook eyes him down and Tae knows that once they’re off of these horses his ass his grass.

You cant help but to laugh at the two boys, “I’m mean, I’m not sure I agree with that but… I can agree with the fact that we were definitely not a great match.”

Jungkook nods, his cheeks are rosy and you smile to yourself as you think about him getting embarrassed over Tae calling him out.

“Thanks for covering me up last night,” you whisper loud enough for Jungkook to hear. Not wanting to involve Tae and Jimin in our conversation they were clearly eves dropping on.

His cheeks turn impossibly rosier, “No problem, you looked cold.”

“I was,” you smile and he smiles back, “I should have taken you up on your offer to sleep on the air mattress with you, my back was fucked this morning.” You giggle

“So does that mean you’re going to let me cuddle with you tonight?” He asks without a beat.

The rosiness on his cheeks is gone, and dominant Jungkook is back and sending shock waves through your body once again.

“I guess it does.” You agree. You’d be crazy to say no to him. The fact that all you could think about as you slept was cuddling with him didn’t help either.

You finally get to the top of the mountain, and you watch everyone dismount their horses with ease. Jungkook get off and brushes his hair out of his eyes as he walks over to you. He holds his hand out for you to take. When you swing your leg over, he takes you in his arms and set you on the ground. His face a few inches from yours you wonder what would happen if you just closed the gap and let your lips touch. His eyes look from yours down to your lips as if he’s considering the same thing. He brings his hand up to your cheek, cupping it for a moment before he brushes something away along your cheek bone.

“You had some dirt.” He smirks, yet his hand doesn’t leave your face.

“Could you two keep it in your pants for a few more hours?” you hear Jimin whining from the lookout. You both pull away and laugh as you start walking towards the group. Abby pulls beers out of her backpack passing them out to everyone. You know you probably shouldn’t considering you haven’t eaten but you know she’ll call you out if you don’t. Every part of your body wants to look at Jungkook, wants to know if he’s looking at you.

After the instructors take a group picture of you all at the lookout, you get back on your horses and head back to the stables. Tae and Jimin decided to lead a sing-along on the way back, which you were thankful for. You needed time to process all the flirting between you and Jungkook. You clearly didn’t mind it but, part of your brain was screaming to slow down. Jungkook seemed like someone you could actually fall in love with and that scared the fuck out of you. You didn’t even feel that way the entire time you were with Ben, which was even scarier. The thought of you and Jungkook cuddling tonight makes you feel things you haven’t felt in a long time. A mixture of nerves and excitement confusing your brain. Hopefully, the rest of the day would ease your mind about the decision you already made.

✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️ 

 A few hours later you’re all sitting around the campfire. Ben and his group of friends return from their activities and you instantly begin drinking more than you should. Each drop of tequila making your brain a little fuzzier. Jungkook walks over to you, with a shot of tequila and a hot dog.

You’re eyes widen as notice the shot, “For me!?” you squeal reaching out for the shot of tequila, only to be smacked on the hand.

“No, you need to eat before you have more Tequila,” he chuckles as he hands you the hotdog. You roll your eyes dramatically.

“You’re no fun, Kookie,” You pout and you take note of the way the nickname makes him blush. You want to make him blush like that a million times more. You wonder what other nicknames make him blush.

“Awe princess, I can be fun. I promise.” He reassured you, licking his lips as he puts the shot of Tequila to his lips and tilts his head back. You know you’re staring but you can’t help it. Everything about him was pulling you in. You turn away and you eat the hotdog because he was right. You choose to ignore the fact that he paid enough attention to know that you needed to eat something. The fact that he paid that much attention at all was mind blowing to you.

As you finish eating, one of the girls that’s in Ben’s group of friends starts a game of truth or dare. She demands that everyone has to play, instantly making your roll your eyes. Abby pulls her chair up next to yours, Yoongi, Tae, and Jimin follow her lead. Jungkook decides to sit on your left. The girl who starts the game, decides she’ll go first and she picks Lucas, daring him to kiss another one of the girls in the group. You groan knowing exactly where this was heading. Tae gets picked and chooses dare, they dare him run into the river naked. You gasp when he instantly rips his shorts and shirt off and runs towards the river. Jimin, Jungkook, and Yoongi laugh so hard they can’t breath. You and Abby look at each other wide eyed when you realize why Tae wasn’t nervous about being naked. He returns from the dare, everyone gives him a  round a applause and he bows after he slides his shorts back on. He looks around the campfire and it takes you off guard when you hear your name roll off of his tongue.

You almost forget you’re playing a game, you nervously look around to see Ben clearly talking about you to one of his friends. Which only pisses you off, “Dare.” You decide confidently.

Devilish doesn’t even begin to describe the mischievous look that paints Tae’s face.

“I dare you…” His eyes flick over to Jungkook, “give Jungkook a lap dance.”

All you hear are gasps and laughter from the people you barely know. You’re heart starts to pound, but the Tequila coursing through your veins is forcing you out of your seat. Tae pulls out his phone and plays F&MU by Kehlani without being asked, almost as if he’s had this planned all along. You take a deep breath and you position yourself in front of Jungkook. He smirks lifting one brow, almost as if challenging you.

You place one leg on either side of his lap, you lean back rolling your hips forwards. He licks his lips looking down at you. The people around you start to cheer you on, hoping to get more from you. You lean forward still grinding into him, kissing his neck and making your way up to the spot just below his ear. You stand up as the chorus starts and you turn around, sitting back down on his lap. You lean back into him as you take his hands, sliding them down your body. You slowly grind to the beat of the song. You giggle as you hear multiple people yell ‘get a room’ jokingly. Jungkook, pulls you into him close placing a kiss to your neck before helping you get off of him and back to your seat. You compose yourself enough to ask Jimin truth or dare, he picks truth, and you bite at your lip as you decide what to ask him.

“Who is the sexiest person here?” You smirk already anticipating his answer.

He bites his lip as he thinks on his answer, laughing to himself when he decides, “After watching you give that lap dance and Tae skinny dip, I think it’s a tie.” He admits with laughter.

Everyone starts to laugh and agree, which instantly made you shy. The game was fun and you’re glad you played. Until one of the girls picks Ben, who of course picks dare. You take a deep breath, and Jungkook’s hand brushes yours. You don’t need to look at him to know that this was his way of comforting you.

She dares Ben to take a body shot off of her. You watch in disgust as he licks up her body in    familiar way, and makes out with her longer than necessary. You want to feel unphased by it.  You wished you didn’t feel anything at all. You’re heart starts to ache as you watch him pull her into his lap when he’s finished. You breathe easy thinking the worst was over, until he chooses another girl to give him a lap dance as a dare.

You instantly turn away watching the girl awkwardly squirm on top of your ex. Suddenly you feel yourself being yanked out of your seat. A large tattooed hand pulling your towards the table of drinks.

“I think you earned that shot.” Jungkook smirks at you as he pours two shots, handing you one and taking one for himself. He taps his shot to yours and you both shoot it back. The game starts to die off and everyone starts to split up into their groups. Some people head to their tents to take care of the built-up sexual tension the game caused. You stay up for about another hour drinking with Tae, Jimin, and Jungkook. Jimin being a drunk and giggly mess, and Tae being way too loud for how late it was.

“Okay boys, I really need to sleep,” you stand up and Tae tries pulling you back down to him, you giggle as you shake him off, “you should go to sleep too!” You yell as you walk towards the tent. You unzip the tent and bed over to slide inside. You sit on Jungkook’s blow up mattress as you slide your shirt over your head, and your pants off your legs. You reach for the shirt on top of your backpack, knowing that it was Jungkooks. You smirk to yourself as you put it on. Maybe you were poking the bear but really you just hated to wear pants when you slept and his shirt was long enough to be a dress. You pull your pillow and your sleeping bag to the mattress as you lay down. Maybe 15 minutes later Jungkook is unzipping the tent to join you. You see that he has two bottles of water and Aspirin. You’re stomach gets that familiar feeling again, realizing that for the second time today, he’s thinking about your needs.

“Sit up.” He demands and you listen, “So obedient.” He rasps, instantly making you press your legs together. You roll your eyes as he hands you two pills and a bottle of water.

“Drink a lot of that, okay?” He points in your direction; you start to chug it giving him a thumbs up. He tilts his head to the side giggling quietly. He crawls to the place beside you on the air mattress. Laying on his side, his arm propping him up with his head resting his hand.

You finish most of the water, and you set it to the side of the mattress knowing you would wake up with a dry mouth. Jungkook watches as you unzip the sleeping bag to make it big enough to cover the both of you. He smiles when he realizes what you’re doing. You lay down on your back, trying not the think about what might happen in the next few minutes. The air mattress bounces lightly as he closes the small gap between you and him. His fingers tug at the hem of his shirt on your body.

“Comfy?” He raises his eyebrows and you instantly blush. You nod your head so delicately, almost begging him not to be mad at you.

“I’m glad, I could definitely get used to seeing you in my clothes.” His voice is quiet and soft and it melts you like butter. His fingers slide up to your jaw and he gently tugs your face so that you’re looking at him. You swallow hard when your eyes meet his lust filled ones. Without even thinking you’re lifting your lips to his. His hand wraps behind your head lacing into your hair as his lips meet yours. The kiss is slow and you can tell he’s teasing you. You bring his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a low growl from him.

He pulls back and he starts to suck and kiss his way down your neck. You can’t help the moans that leave your lips. Each kiss he left felt like a tiny jolt of electricity. His fingers brush the spot on your thigh just below your (his) t-shirt. He slides the t-shirt up until he can see the top of your panties. His tongue runs along his lower lip and his eyes get heavy. You buck your hips up against his hand, you need him to touch you. You feel his chest as he laughs at your impatience.

“So needy,” He looks back at you, with a smirk playing on his lip, “What do you want, baby? Use your words.” He encouraged before kissing your lips softly.

“Please touch me.” He smiles as his hand ducks under the hem of your panties.

His middle finger presses against your clit with a feather light touch, making you want to scream already. He nudges your head with his nose so he can have full access to your neck. His fingers starts to circle softly around your clit before slowly running through your wetness. You know you’re wet, honestly you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life. Jungkook groans as one of his fingers slides inside you.

“So fucking wet for me princess.”

You have to cover your mouth when he switches from one finger to two. His thumb dancing on your clit as he slides in and out of you. You sit up on your elbows watching him, turning every few seconds to bite at his jaw bone.

“Feels so good,” You moan into ear, he adds another finger.

You throw your head back, your back arching off of the mattress as he hits all the right spots. You’re body is hot and it feels like a coil inside of you is about to snap, you don’t stop the moan that falls from your lips.

“Come on pretty girl, cum for me.” He begs and you do, you nearly scream as you come apart on his fingers. He slows down and lets you ride out your high. He brings his fingers to his mouth to clean them, and the sight alone makes you wet all over again. You bite your lip when you realize he’s rock hard beneath his lose basketball shorts. You start to reach out for it but he laces his fingers with yours instead. You look up at him with the saddest face, full pout and scrunched up eyebrows, like someone just told you your dog died. He tries not to but he has to chuckle.

“I want you in my mouth.” You whine.

He laughs as he lays on his back, pulling you to his chest to cuddle. You look up at him with wide eyes.

“Why won’t you let me? You don’t want me to?”

His eyes get big and he takes your cheeks in between his hands, “Of course I want those pretty lips wrapped around my cock,” he coos with a kiss to your nose, “but I want you to be sober before we do anything else.”

You know that you’re not nearly as drunk as he thinks you are, but still it’s refreshing to have a man consider your mental space before his own sexual needs. Again, something you had never experienced.

You lay your head down on his chest, and his fingers work their way through your hair. Gently massaging your scalp. You couldn’t understand why everything he did made your body react in a way that was unknown. Maybe because you had never been with someone where there was actually chemistry. You feel his finger under your chin, as your head is pulled up to look at him. He cups your cheek, lightly brushing your cheekbone with his thumb. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he loved you. That’s how he looked at you. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the post orgasmic bliss, but that’s what you felt. You swear he feels it too.

He swallows hard before pressing a soft kiss to your lips, “You’re the most beautiful thing, I’ve ever seen in my life.” He whispers with adoring eyes. You instantly look away, feeling the tears starting to form in your eyes. He wipes one away as it falls down your cheek.

“What’s wrong? I shouldn’t have said that?” He questions himself and you shake your head quickly. He was wrong, so wrong.

“No, I just…” you inhale trying to decide how to word what you were feeling, “I don’t think anyone’s ever talked to me like that.”

He nods, and you see anger cross his features for a moment and then leans back, his hand running up and down your spine. You lay your head back on his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat lure you into a deep sleep. “He’s a piece of shit for not realizing how incredible you are, I hope you know that.” He whispers.

You let out a quiet sigh in agreement, falling asleep a few moments later.

A/n: Please dont forget to let me know your thoughts!! Also let me know if you want to be on the taglist! <3

[adiabolikpastel]

Title: Lunar Eclipse Masquerade

Karlheinz pt. 3

Rating: NSFW | PG-18

Word Count: 1,947

Pairing: Karlheinz x Skye (m/m)

ღ As the part unwinds, Skye is finally able to take a breath. Though maybe there is something else on Karl's mind, as the moons affects finally seem to reach him. ღ

Mun Yu: We did it! These are the last pieces of the LEM story. The end to our Lunar Eclipse. I hope that you have enjoyed the ride, and gotten to know the stories on this blog better! Tune in at the end of it all for Authors Notes!

☆+ ﾟ .+ .ﾟ.ﾟ｡ ﾟ ｡. +ﾟ ｡ﾟ.ﾟ｡☆*｡｡ . ｡ o .｡ﾟ｡.o｡* ｡ .｡

Despite what most people think, demonic beings are very social creatures. The elites hold countless balls and parties, celebrating their immortality together, and entertaining one another with stories. Typically, they are done in celebration for something – though this is not always the case. All types of beings from across the Demon Realm will come if the host is of high enough prestige.

There would be no such host if it was not for Karlheinz. Seated as the head of the Bat Clan (vampires), Karl’s reach spans far. Being the widow for the former Demon King’s daughter, and having children of the first blood, an invitation from the Vampire King is not one to refuse. Though why would you? In his immaculate castle within the Demon Realm, Eden Castle, it is always quite the spectacle. While the celebrations held in his Human World mansion are nice, nothing compares to a true night of pleasure within the true home of the King.

On this night, there was to be a Masquerade in honor of the first Lunar Eclipsed Moon in over two years. While this night may serve each species differently, the idea to celebrate its return was simply too tempting. For this reason, Karlheinz took it upon himself – or rather – his house, to host the event. This extended to his offspring as well, regardless of their personal agenda. Members of every social elite race accepted the offer, and gathered for a truly unforgettable evening

While he was sure others had a marvelous time at the event, Skye was exhausted. It was one thing to organize and watch something happen from afar. Being one of the hosts was completely different. There was never a moment of peace. At any time someone would come up to speak with Karl, and he would have to smile and pretend to be interested.

It was enough to just be seen and not heard. How did his wives ever deal with this? Then again, they were probably all bread for this kind of thing. After departing from Shu and his new bride, Karl had insisted on taking Ajax and his wife with him on a tour. But not before getting Burai – what were these three frat brothers?

To see Karlheinz in this light was rather amusing. Not that he was very different, but one could tell that the three men had a special bond about them. Perhaps that wasn’t something Skye could understand. He wasn’t too keen on the history here in the Demon Realm, but he did know that there used to be battles constantly. These three must have been allies through all of that. Or perhaps they were enemies which Karl subdued? Skye wasn’t sure which.

“And then, wouldn’t you know it, Meteo surprised us with a visit! It was glorious to see him! Xyander and Xylon met him for the first time. Hard to think they are already three and never met their brother. My son has been so busy – but Stevi and Helios were excited to see him. Little Onan was sleeping, but I am sure they are having a great time while we are away.” Ajax prattled on and on while they walked through the castle. Skye couldn’t help but roll his eyes, just how many kids did this guy have?!

“Dear, you speak of our children much too much. Your castle is beautiful as always, Karlheinz. Thank you again for allowing us the honor of visiting. Even if it was just to swoop away with our daughter.” His wife chimes, wearing a smile, but her words drip with venom.

Karl laughed slightly at her, Skye could tell that it was mostly in triumph. “Now Catalina, we both know that Ajax would never simply give away something so precious. Callista will be well taken care of, of that I assure you.” Karl offered her comfort, but it was more so in an attempt to get the matter dropped. He had won, there was no sense in her dwelling on the past.

“Honestly, the fuss you all make over children.” Burai finally speaks. “That is why you have them one at a time. Devote what you can, then move on.”

“That is an interesting stance, though, given your record my friend – I wouldn’t lead with it.” Karl states, in reference to Burai being not only his friend, but his ex-father-in-law.

“I would choose one child every century- millennia even - over the amount you both have.” The Demon shivered, disgusted by the idea it seemed. “They are simply a means to an end. We must produce them to preserve the line and power, but nothing more.”

“That is not true! My children bring me such joy! You cannot say that you feel nothing when you look at your son now!”

“I won’t comment on that.” Burai simply answers, as Ajax berates him with further justifications of his unending love for his offspring.

Skye walks quietly next to Karl while the demons talk amongst themselves. He was ready to retire for the evening, and as they came back into the ballroom, he was glad to see most of the guests had gone. Especially at least half of Karl’s sons – all that remained were Kanato, Shu and Reiji… wait! Was Reiji seriously trying to take Shu’s dance!?

“Well isn’t that quite the problem.” Karl muses beside him. “Seems those two just cannot get along.” Skye knew that this had to be part of a larger plan. Karl doesn’t simply do anything. There is always a motive.

“Callista my dear!” Ajax’s voice boomed from behind them, the large demon B-lining straight to his daughter. He did not seem upset by her daughter being in the arms of someone other than the man he had just left her with.

“It is still a mystery how that man became a Demon Lord.” Burai comments stepping up to Karlheinz. “He is a fool.”

“Some just have other reasons for fighting. He is plenty powerful to make up for the fool. Not to mention his wife does a fairly decent job keeping things in check.” He shrugs it off, watching the ever doting father collect his daughter. “What of you? Any plans I should know about for a future love affair?”

Burai scoffs, “My last child is still alive, so do not count on it.” He says, gesturing to someone. Skye looked in the direction, hoping it would be Alrick. To his surprise, a woman seemed to respond to the signal. She was dressed in a floor length gown, but not something fancy, something closer to a maid’s outfit really. Was this a familiar? Her appearance was almost human; very bland everything. There wasn’t even a demonic presence about her.

“You have summoned me, Lord Burai?” Whoever this was, they were most certainly a servant. Not looking up even slightly, that was some quality training.

“We are leaving.” Burai dictates, the young maid bowing and excuses herself. “You celebrations are nice, however, please do keep me off any intimidate affairs. I have little time to deal with such things.” Almost as quickly as he finished his sentence the strange woman was back, and helping him put on his coat. Perhaps she was a familiar.

“You are the last person I would want to have anything intimate with, my friend.” Karl waves off the demon lord, and escorts Skye to the head of the room. Skye looked back at the Snake demon to see if Alrick was going to show up.

Instead, he saw this supposed happy bachelor prude, actually link arms with the servant! What a hypocritical- oh god was that a kiss!? Skye couldn’t believe it. Even if it was on the hand, that ass hole. Giving everyone the ‘oh look at me – I’m all business. Big bad demon lord’. He couldn’t wait to tell Alrick about it later.

“You are quite distracted. I think that’s enough sharing you for one day.” Karl’s voice brings Skye out of his train of thought. “Come, we shall retire for the evening.” His voice was soft, as if he was purposely only allowing Skye to hear.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to imply something, my king.” Skye knew that there was no way this night was not going to end without the two of them becoming intimate. Honestly he was pretty tired. Not to mention, it was his impression that the Bloody Moon was supposed to affect the bat clan. Here the night is over and Karl’s been the same. Rip off.

Karl laughed a little at Skye’s comment, “Haha, you know me too well.” He moves a hand around Skye’s waist, holding him close. Within moments the two of them were moved out of the ballroom and into their room. Well, this was the room they typically fooled around in. Skye knew this wasn’t Karl’s room – he actually doubted that the man slept at all.

Skye smiles up at Karl and moves over to the bed, sitting on the edge, crossing his legs. “I must say, that was fun being your little arm candy ~ I don’t think there was a single person who missed it.” That thought sent shivers up his spine. What a thrill it was to be seen. Not to mention seen by all those stuck up demons who would normally look down on him.

Karl watches Skye bask in the afterglow of their appearance. What a strange creature he was, actually wanting to be the center of the universe. Yet at this moment, Karl felt like that role suited Skye more than any other. “Yes, you were magnificent, my siren.” His praise seemed to affect him, as their eyes were soon looking over one another.

With a smirk on his face, Karl summoned his magic to disrobe the cape which was draped over his shoulder. Whilst he undid the buttons on his vest, and loosened the tie around his neck. “So well in fact,” He stepped out of his shoes, and allowed magic to take his discarded clothing off to be hung up. “I believe you deserve a reward.”

Skye was entranced by Karl’s mystical display. God it was always so hot to watch him strip. Way better than doing all that work himself. Just as Skye was about to do the same, Karl suddenly dipped down and knelt before him. “My King…?” Skye’s eyes widened. This man was not about to do something stupid, right?!

With a small laugh, Karl slowly started to take off Skye’s heels. “Your expression dictates you were thinking something absurd.” He softly kisses the top of Skye’s foot. “I am rewarding you for all the hard work you did for this night, not punishing you.” There was a hint of melancholy to his words.

Karl had no interest in submitting another to the role of his ‘wife’ again. The title was nothing but a front anyway. He had not loved anyone. Still loved no one. These ‘feelings’ for Skye - if they were love, Karl would have no idea. Their time together was an end to boredom alone. The means to a release. Though if that were completely true, Skye wouldn’t be as involved as he was with Karl’s professional life.

The boy was more than just his assistant here. In the Human World, he was even Tougo Sakamaki’s new face. People saw him more than they did the politician. Once Skye had finished school, he came onto the alias’ line of work, and began working as the personal secretary for the famed politician. Karl was sure that Skye would even be a nurse for Reinhert if he had asked.

Skye let out a soft mew in response to Karl’s gentle touches and kisses. This was new, he was never this gentle. It felt nice, especially since his feet were killing him from the heels. Beauty was so painful. He was happy that things were like this, how silly to think that Karlheinz would even consider a marriage. Well, it wasn’t like he honestly thought about it - it was more just the shock of him actually kneeling.

Though now that he got a good look - the sight of the Karlheinz was worshiping his feet. “Heh, my king~ I have to admit, mhmm, the sight of you down there… is really turning me on~” He says, moving his other foot to locate Karl’s groin.

Karl simply focuses on his task at hand. Slowly. Sweetly. Moving his lips up from Skye’s foot, up his leg. “Mm! My King… if you tease me so much I - ah!” Karl moves to just behind Skye’s knee - one of his biggest weak spots. Skye bites back another moan.

“Now that wont do.” Karl suddenly speaks and looks up at Skye. His eyes are full of desire. Hunger. Lust. “I want to hear you. Every sigh. Gasp. Moan. You will not hold anything back. In return, I shall spoil you. Every. Inch.” He smirks, wetting his lips, and picking up Skye’s other foot. “So. Be the beautiful siren you are meant to be. And submit yourself to my will.”

☆+ ﾟ .+ .ﾟ.ﾟ｡ ﾟ ｡. +ﾟ ｡ﾟ.ﾟ｡ ROUTE END☆*｡｡ . ｡ o .｡ﾟ｡.o｡* ｡ .｡

[peter-pan-hoe]

Old Friends Pt 1

Guess Who’s Back Bitches

(Sorry for calling you bitches im just very excited. I love every single of of yall and Im so happy you guys have stuck around during this ridiculous hiatus and i hope to be posting more soon. I just got off my ass today and was like “Alright ya cow its time to write” and i did. Here is the oldest request ive had waiting in my inbox for literal years im so sorry this took so long. Here is part one of what will hopefully be a new series. I’ve taken it in a different direction to start with but i will be swinging it around to meet the request in later parts. So happy to be back. Ive missed you. I love you. Here we go xx)

“So like maybe Peter, y/n, an all the lost boys are having this huge dinner, hanging out and that, and then somehow, for revenge, The Dark One sends one of Peter’s old lovers to the island. That night Peter sneaks off to greet the girl who is STILL in love with him, maybe she puts him under her spell to forget about the reader and then they like almost do da nasty or something and I guess I can leave you to the rest.”

Requested by @bellakae

Warnings: swearing, legit like one f-bomb

I did my best to make Y/N gender neutral but being a cis female I may have missed some gender identifiers when editing and I apologise 

tag list:  @dina3s @just-meh-and-me-dogs @xcastawayherosx @lexymeg

sorry to anyone i forgot. I couldnt find all the asks or my updated tag list. Comment bellow or dm me if you want to be added to the tag list xx

 Every time there’s a new batch of lost boys, or ever just one, to arrive on the island, we have a welcome feast.

The hunter and forager boys gather as much stuff they can find and the cooks put together a huge meal. Given out of the 47 of us that there’s only 6 cooks, we usually have some extra to help out.

When there’s a big group it’s usually because Peter went to the mainland to find boys and bring them here because they weren’t happy at home.

There was that time that 5 or six boys rocked up because they made their way here together.

But if it’s just the one boy, they’re the believers. The ones who wished their way here.

This time around however was because Peter had gone to the mainland.

He usually seemed very happy whenever he came back.

Well no less happy than usual.

He wasn’t sad or angry or quiet like today.

When he returned early this morning with the latest group of boys, he came into our shared hut and stared out the window until morning.

Usually if it’s a late night he would have woken me up to say he was back.

He hadn’t needed to wake me up this time as him simply entering the room had roused me. But he didn’t even look over at me as he walked passed our bed to his little seat on the window sill.

I figured something must be up so I sat up and pretended I hadn’t heard him come home.

  “Oh hey,” I said, faking a yawn. “When did you get back?”

He looked at me with a forced smile.

  “Just a little while ago,” he hopped down from his perch by the window and came to sit beside me. “Did I wake you?”

He gave me a gentle kiss on the head and the leaned down to untie his boots.

  “No I don’t think so,” I lied and shook my head. “I just woke up and you were there,”

He didn’t say anything as he kicked of his boots and put his feet up on our bed.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked. “You seem a little distracted,”

  “yeah I’m alright,” he sighed. “Just ran into an old friend while I was out getting the new boys,”

  “Okay 2 things,” I started. “First is, how are the boys? And how many? And the second thing, was this old friend still a friend or are you not on good terms?”

  “They boys are good,” he replied with a stifled yawn.

I could tell he was very tired, but not his usual physical exhaustion. He seemed tired in his mind.

  “I brought home 14 boys,” he continued. “The youngest 7 and the oldest 17,”

  “That’s a lot,” I said sadly. “All those boys – a 7 year old – lost and lonely,”

  “Mmm,” he nodded in agreement.

  “So what about your friend?” I pressed carefully.

I don’t want to upset him.

  “I’m not really sure,” he sighed. “We didn’t end on good terms but she seemed happy to see me. She even wanted to come back here with us,”

This answer surprised me.

  “She?” I asked nervously.

  “Yeah,” he looked at me apologetically. “Clara. An old… partner of mine,”

  “Partner as in lover?” I asked. “I don’t mind you talking about your ex’s. I’ve got some too y’know,”

I tried to lighten the solemn mood with a giggle.

  “You mean I’m not your first love?” he feigned shock, gasping dramatically and putting his hand over his heart.

  “Oh but you are the truest,” I collapsed into his chest with a laugh.

He held me tight as he lay back on our bed, so I was leaning back onto him.

  “But yes, to answer your question,” he said as he absentmindedly played with a few strands of my hair. “Clara was my old lover. She was someone I met a long time ago,”

I thought about how things would have been with Peter and this Clara.

  “Did she live here like me?” I asked, genuinely curious.

Like I’d told him, I don’t have an issue with him having past lovers. I mean who doesn’t?

  “No,” he said quietly. “We weren’t really bonded like you and I are,”

  “So how did you see her?” I asked as I reached up to brush some of my hair back.

  “Made more trips to the mainland I guess,” he shrugged. “I still only picked up new boys once a month but I went to see her weekly,”

  “But you two weren’t romantically affiliated?” I questioned.

  “Well I wasn’t,” he admitted with a guilty face. “She was very emotionally invested in our… relationship. Whereas I was not,”

  “Oh Peter…” I sighed. “Did you break her heart?”

  “I guess,” he shrugged again. “She started getting really clingy. She didn’t want to come here. I never really found out why but she insisted that our meeting were to take place on the mainland. She began asking me to stay for longer periods of time. Once to the point that Felix came to find me because Neverland’s weather started to turn to a freezing winter. She’d convinced me to stay for weeks at a time more than once,”

  “But she was the only one romantically invested?” I reiterated.

He gave a solemn nod.

  “That’s fucked,” I lay back in the bed and yawned. “How did the encounter go this time?”

  “She seemed the same,” he said carefully. “Like she didn’t even remember that we ended badly,”

  “How so?” I pressed.

  “I came across her in a town market and she ran to me like she was so happy to see me,” he continued.  “She ran to me and wrapped her arms around me like she used to when we hadn’t seen each other for a time. I’m not sure she even realises how long its been,”

He became quiet, thinking.

  “How long has it been?” I could feel my eyelids getting heavy and my voice came out as almost a whisper.

  “Thirty odd years or so,” he brushed some loose hairs from my face, just touching for the sake of touching. “But she left so quickly this time I didn’t even have a chance to ask her why she seems this to be like this. She just said she had errands to run and had to go. That she would see me soon,”

  “That sounds ominous,” I mumbled.

I was processing as much of this as I could in my tired state. I suppose Peter could sense that I was barely awake.

  “Go back to sleep, love,” he kissed my forehead. “We can talk more about it in the morning. Sleep Y/N, we have a big day of celebration to prepare for tomorrow,”

He didn’t have to tell me twice as id already started to drift off from him gently stroking the side of my face.