#i know the next step is to go punch a tree but all the trees growing here are pretty and i dont want to

[pasaatimonarkin]

No crying in the Burlesque club I part 4

Han Jisung x reader feat. OT8 Stray kids

Mafia!au

Warnings: cursing, guns, mentions of blood, sexual language, future smut

Word count: 5,3k

part 3

Lee Know, Jeongin, Hyunjin and Han had grabbed you from bed early this morning. Chan had started to make you ready to leave the place and wanted you to learn self-defense. Your cast was taken off yesterday and Chan didn't give the thought another minute.

The five of you stood in the center of the training place, the third floor of the house. The floor was padded with mats that had seen better days, and the walls were adorned with punching bags and wall pars. The air smelled like sweat from the guys showing you some moves you could try. You watched them with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You had no experience in fighting so all they told you was new information.

“Alright, sweetheart," Han began, a smirk playing on his lips, "Today's lesson is all about using what you've got." He gestured to your small figure "Don't let anyone tell you that you're not strong enough."

You rolled your eyes at his teasing but felt a warmth spread through your chest.

Jeongin stepped forward, his gentle demeanor a stark contrast to Han's. "We'll start with the basics," he said, holding up two fists. "First, your stance. You want to be firm, but flexible. Imagine you're a tree in a storm." He demonstrated, his legs apart and knees slightly bent.

Lee Know and Hyunjin chuckled at the analogy, but you focused intently, mimicking Jeongin's stance. Your legs trembled slightly since your ankle was still weak but ignored the discomfort.

"Good," Jeongin nodded, "now, let's talk about punches." He glanced over at Han, who was already holding up a punching bag with a smug look. "Hit this like you mean it."

You took a deep breath and threw a tentative punch. The bag barely moved.

"Come on," Han called out, "you’re trying to make the opponent regret touching you, not make them aroused!” The others shared a laugh, and you felt a flash of irritation. Gritting your teeth, you raised your fist again, knuckles white with determination. This time, you swung with all her might, the sound of your fist connecting with the bag echoing through room. The bag swung back and forth, and you stumbled slightly from the recoil.

"Better," Han said, his smirk fading into a genuine smile. "Now, let's talk about power. It's not just about how hard you hit, it's about where you hit." He stepped closer, placing a hand on your shoulder to adjust your posture. His touch was firm, but there was a hint of care in his eyes that made you feel more at ease.

"Imagine your opponent is a board," he continued, "and you need to break it. You're not going to punch them with your wrist; you're going to use the power from your entire body."

Lee Know and Hyunjin circled around you, offering words of encouragement. "Think that the power starts from your legs and releases from your arms. " Hyunjin suggested.

You took another deep breath, visualizing the power coursing through your body and into yor fist. You threw another punch, and this time the bag rocked more noticeably. The guys nodded in approval, and you felt a small satisfaction.

"Good," Hyunjin said, clapping you on the back.

You moved on to kicks next, with Lee Know showing you how to balance your weight and deliver a powerful kick to the bag. Each time you landed one, the bag thudded loudly, sending a satisfying vibration through the floor. You had to train kicking only with your other leg to let your ankle rest.

After an hour of training, your muscles burned and felt a sense of accomplishment. Sweat beaded on your forehead.

"Alright," Han announced, wiping his own brow, "let's take a break. Hydrate, catch your breath."

You nodded gratefully and reached for your water bottle. You took a long drink, the cool liquid flowed down your dry throat. Hyunjin, Jeongin and Lee Know leaned against the wall.

Suddenly, without warning, Han lunged at you. Your eyes widened in surprise, but before you could react, he had grabbed your wrist and twisted it, sending you crashing to the mat. You gasped in shock, breath being knocked out of your lungs.

"What the—" you began to protest, but Han was already straddling you, one hand pinning both of your wrists above your head. His smirk had returned in full force.

 "This is what happens when you let your guard down," he said, his voice light, but his eyes gleaming with serious intent. "You can't stop moving, even when you think you're safe."

You squirmed beneath him, trying to push him off. "Hey! That's not fair!" you protested, cheeks flushing red under his touch.

"Life isn't fair," Han said, his tone still playful, but his grip unyielding. "You've got to be ready for anything." Your heart was racing, not just from the surprise of his attack, but also from the closeness of his body to yours. You struggled to get free, your cheeks growing hotter.

"Get off!" you exclaimed, your voice a mix of embarrassment and irritation. Han's smirk grew, and he leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours.

"You want me to let you go?" he challenged, his voice low and teasing. "Then fight back."

Your eyes narrowed, and you braced yourself against the mat. With a sudden burst of strength, you pushed up with your hips, catching Han off-guard. He rolled off you, and you quickly scrambled back to your feet. The guys watched you on the side.

"Alright," Han said, his smirk fading into a genuine smile. "Now we're talking." He rose to his feet, his eyes gleaming with admiration. "You've got spirit."

You stood, chest heaving from the exertion and the rush of adrenaline. You took a defensive stance, eyes never leaving Han's. He raised his hands in a playful fighting stance. "Come at me."

You took a deep breath, heart pounding in your chest. You lunged forward, legs unsteady from the surprise move earlier, but spirit unbroken.

"Use your legs," Jeongin called out from the sidelines, and you took his advice. You swung a leg out, aiming for Han's stomach, but he was too quick. He caught your ankle and with a twirl, you found yourself flipped over and lying on your back again, staring up at the ceiling.

"Nice try," Han said, his voice filled with amusement as he hovered over you once again, his hands planted on the mat beside your shoulders. "But you're going to have to do better than that."

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks, a mix of irritation and excitement bubbling in you. You glared up at him, your breaths coming in short gasps. "I'll have you know; I can handle a lot more than you think," you shot back, trying to keep your voice steady. You knew you didn’t really know much about these things but he didn’t have to know.

"Oh, really?" Han's eyebrow arched with playfulness in his voice. "You seem to enjoy having me on top of you."

The room was quiet, and you heart skipped a beat. The tension between you was palpable, and you could feel the weight of his body pressing down on you. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. You pushed against his chest in an attempt to sit up.

Han grabbed your hands tight, but his eyes remained playful. "I'm just saying, you're not exactly fighting me off with everything you've got." He leaned in closer, and you could feel his breath against your cheek.

Hyunjin, who had been quietly observing from the sidelines, had seen enough. He stepped forward, a hint of a smirk playing on his own lips. "Alright, lovebirds," he said, his tone light but firm, "let's keep this professional, shall we?"

Han's grin didn't falter, but he relented, rolling off you. You sat up, cheeks flaming red, and took a moment to collect yourself.

Hyunjin cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Alright, let's move on," he said, picking up a pistol from the nearby weapons rack. "We're going to teach you the basics of firearm safety and shooting."

You nodded, eager to change the subject and stop thinking about Han. You walked to the next room that had a shooting range. Your heart was still racing and took the gun from Hyunjin. It felt heavy and foreign in your grip, it was the first time you held a gun in your hands.

"Remember," Hyunjin began, his tone serious now, "safety is the most important thing. Always assume a gun is loaded, even if it's not."

You nodded, mind racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness as you held the pistol in your trembling hands. You never knew that you would have to learn to use a gun, but it could come in handy.

"First, you need to learn how to hold it correctly," Hyunjin instructed, his voice steady and calm. He took the gun and placed it back in your palms, adjusting your grip. "Firm, but not too tight. You want to be able to control the recoil."

Jeongin and Lee Know set up a row of paper targets down the range, each one a few feet apart. They were simple outlines of a human form.

"Alright, Y/n," Jeongin said, his tone more serious now, "you're going to want to keep your elbows bent, like this." He demonstrated, showing you how to hold the gun in a way that would allow for better control and stability. "It's all about balance."

Lee Know stepped up beside you handing you a pair of earmuffs. "These will protect your hearing," he explained, placing a set over his own ears. "It's going to be loud but try not to let it scare you."

Hyunjin nodded in agreement, "Remember to keep your eyes on the target, and don't anticipate the shot. Take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and squeeze the trigger."

You nodded, heart thundering in your chest as you positioned the gun, following their instructions to the letter. Jeongin and Lee Know had placed the targets at varying distances. You took a moment to steady your breathing, feeling the weight of their gazes on you.

You squeezed the trigger, and the gunshot rang out, echoing off the walls. The target remained untouched. "Keep your eyes open," Jeongin reminded, his voice calm. "It's natural to want to close them when you're nervous."

You nodded, ears still ringing from the first shot. You took aim again, eyes never leaving the target. You squeezed the trigger once more. The bullet whizzed past the target, tearing a hole in the mat behind it.

Han couldn't help but grin at your missed shot, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, you really are shooting someone, not the attacker but someone," he quipped, earning a glare from you.

"Very funny," you said annoyed. You readjusted your grip and took a step back.

Han's grin grew wider as he watched you. You could feel his gaze on you, but refused to let it throw you off. You took another deep breath. C’mon you can do this. You finger squeezed the trigger, and this time, the shot hit the edge of the target.

"Better," Han said, his voice closer than you had expected. You turned to find him standing right beside you, his hand reaching out to steady your arm. His touch sent a shiver down your spine "Your stance is too wide," he corrected, stepping behind you and placing his hands on your hips. "You need to be more balanced. Like this." He gently pushed your hips back and adjusted your feet. "Keep your weight evenly distributed," he murmured in your ear, his breath warm against your neck.

You shivered again, but knew he was right. You nodded, taking another shot. This time, the bullet hit the target square in the chest.

"Looks like you're getting the hang of it," Lee Know said, his voice filled with pride. "Why don't we take a break and grab some food?"

You lowered the gun, hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline. "Food sounds amazing," you agreed. Your heart was pounding fast as you thought about Han’s touch. It was crazy how he made you feel so weak under his touch. You couldn’t deny it anymore – you had a huge crush on the guy whether you liked it or not.

-

“I fucking can’t stand her!” you yelled through your gritted teeth as you stepped to the dressing room, heels clicking against the floor. Every day since Coco joined the club, she had practically thrown herself to Han, taking a clear interest in him.

You were not together you knew that. And Han most likely had no feelings for you, you knew that too. But her demeanor still made your blood boil, making you want to slap that smirk off of her face. Han didn’t seem that interested on her, not flirting with her like he usually did.

You had a show where you all performed together. You couldn't help but steal glances at Han, hoping he'd be watching you and not Coco's blatant attempts at seduction. As the routine went on, Coco's eyes never left Han, her gaze a silent plea for his approval. She performed with an exaggerated flair; her movements calculated to draw his focus.

The air grew thick with jealousy as Coco threw in an extra twirl, her skirt fluttering high in purpose. Han raised an eyebrow, but face stayed blank. You had no idea what Han was thinking about during the show.  As you gave your final bows for the audience, Coco made sure to give Han an extra wink.

“She is ruthless when it comes to seeking attention” Lucky huffed, taking a seat on her assigned chair and crossing her legs.

“Have you told Han yet?” Cherry asked while taking her heels off.

Your cheeks flushed red. “Told him what?” you asked, trying to play it cool.

Lucky smirked, “That you like him! It’s so obvious!”

You didn’t argue, “Yeah, maybe. But I could never tell him”. Your brother would never let you have a relationship with him.

“If you are scared about his feelings towards you, I can see that he likes you back” Cherry winked.

“He is totally into you” Lucky added, nudging you on the shoulder.

You bit your lip to hide the smile that was trying to form in your lips. That couldn’t be true. Just as you were starting to feel better, Coco walked in. She had taken her sweet time thanking the audience, taking their cheers in. “Hey ladies” she chirped and made her way to the mirror, adjusting her lipstick. None of you said anything, just shared a knowing eye contact with each other.

“Great show as always!” a familiar voice spoke from the door and you turned around to see Han smiling at you.

“Thank you, I knew you would enjoy” Coco sang to Han as she scuttled with her high heels to him, clinging onto his arm. This took Han in surprise, but his eyes still stayed on you. That made your fury rise once again and you had to take a deep breath so you wouldn’t say anything out of anger. “I’m sure you had your favorite to watch” Coco beamed.

Han smiled at her words, yet his eyes still didn’t leave yours. “Oh yeah, I always enjoy watching y/n”. Your heart skipped a beat.

Coco’s smile faltered and her grip loosening on Han’s arm, but she didn’t surrender that easily. She leaned closer to Han, “Maybe you’d like a private performance sometime”, she suggested, her voice a seductive purr. “I could show you a real show.”

“Perhaps another time” Han shot an awkward smile at Coco. She took that as a promise, winked at Han and turned in her heels to walk away, her touch lingering on Han’s arm too long for your liking.

Cherry and Lucky shared a look, surprised at Coco’s boldness. Your gaze met Han’s as he looked back at you. You tried to control your emotions and expression, but it seemed that you couldn’t keep your face completely blank since Han raised his eyebrow at you. “You okay, y/n?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine” you forced a smile, “I’ll meet you outside”. Han nodded and walked to the hallway. As soon as the sound of his steps faded away, you turned to see the girls. The way Coco was always throwing herself at Han made you want to rip your hair out.

“Don’t let her get under your skin” Lucky said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You took a deep breath and looked at yourself from the mirror. What was happening to you? You were never this jealous before, especially for a guy who you weren’t even together with!

“I know I shouldn’t. It just feels like she’s always onto him” you replied.

“She’s just desperately wanting attention. She’s making you jealous in purpose, because she can see that Han’s into you, like I said. I mean he hasn’t missed a single show!”

Cherry nodded “Lucky’s right. You need to talk to him, tell him how you feel”.

Yeah, he came to the shows but at least half the reason was because Chan wanted him to keep an eye on you, right? You bit your bottom lip. Could you still tell Han about your feelings? Your stomach churned at the thought of rejection. But if there was a chance that he felt the same, you could make that annoying smirk disappear from Coco’s lips.

You told the girls you would think about it, earning eye rolls from them both. You phone blinged and you saw a text from Han, telling you to hurry up. That wasn’t a good sign, it meant he had somewhere to go. And considering his work, it wasn’t anything nice.

Quickly gathering all your stuff, you speed walked outside in your show outfit. The cold air hit your bare legs and made you shiver. It was already late and dark, only dim streetlights illuminating the sidewalks. Han leaned against the car, looking at his phone. The way the light shined on him made him look like an angel and even more as he looked up and locked his eyes with you. You wanted to tell him how you felt there and then, but you were too slow.

“We need to go” he stated, opening you the door for you to step into the car. Your small smile faltered off at his serious tone and you lowered your head, making your way to the passenger seat. As he drove to the house, his eyes were switching between the road and his phone, focusing on reading something. You felt the urge to grab his hand and just blurt out your feelings. You were going to leave the house someday anyway, if he didn’t feel the same. But his stern expression made you keep your mouth shut. Perhaps it wasn’t the right time for talking at that moment.

You reached the house, but this time Han didn’t park his car to the garage like he used to. He stopped the car on the front door and turned to you. “I need to be somewhere, I’ll see you when I get back” His voice was soft, not matching the stern look on his face. You furrowed your brows, “Where are you going?”

He ran his hand through his hair, looking at you like he wanted to tell you but couldn’t. “I will tell you later” he answered, and you slowly nodded, realizing the truth wasn’t pretty. You climbed out of the car and watched him drive off immediately.

-

You slid to your dressing room chair, feeling your heart racing. For the hundredth time that evening you wished that Han was there, but he was still away. You hadn’t heard from him since last night and had no clue where he was other than that he was on a mission assigned by Chan. You looked at your reflection in the mirror and could see the nervousness in your expression despite all the glitter that was decorating your face.

Jack knocked on the door, “It’s your turn” he exclaimed. You nodded and took a deep breath. I have done this many times without Han being in the audience, you can do it now too.  You stepped into the hallway where Cherry ran up to you from the stage. “Go kill it, girl” she said breathily and winked, giving your shoulders a light and reassuring squeeze. You smiled back and rose to the stage. If there was one good thing about today – Coco wasn’t there.

The audience clapped as you appeared on stage and you took your place in the middle, straightening the hem of your short white skirt and made sure your hairpiece was intact. You looked up from the stage and in the booth where Han usually sat, was now Felix and Hyunjin. Felix flashed a comforting smile at you an Hyunjin did a small wave, both ensuring that they were there for you.

As the music started, you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline that came with every performance. The spotlight hit you and you began your show. Thoughts of Han and his mission faded into the back of your head for now.

At the end of your show, you gave small bow to the audience and made your way to the dressing room to change your clothes. Cherry had already left and since your performance was the last for that night, you were there alone. Soon you had on your comfy sweatpants, hoodie and sneakers. The make up and glitter would have to wait on your face until you got to the house.

You grabbed your purse and strolled to the hallway. You saw the two men sitting at the bar having drinks and walked to them, taking a seat in the empty seat middle of them. Hyunjin made an attempt at small talk, asking about the dance routine. But your mind had already gone back to thinking Han. It was annoying that he had captured your heart and mind, and was all you could think of.

“What is he really doing?” you finally managed to ask.

Felix glanced at Hyunjin before responding, his smile fading slightly. “It’s nothing you need to worry about. Just some business, you know”

Hyunjin nodded in agreement, his eyes never leaving his drink, “Yeah, it’s a small job. Nothing he couldn’t handle”.

You managed a small smile, but you weren’t satisfied on their answers. There was a ton of jobs that he could be doing considering all the districts where Strays worked. “Is he like selling guns or...?” you tried to dig the answer from them. Felix took a sip of his drink before answering. “No, we never do those alone”. He cleared his throat. “He is doing a favor for a; you could say a client”.

Your heart rate lightly elevated as you realized what that meant. Hitman. He was on a mission to kill somebody for someone. “Do you think he is okay?” you asked, trying your best to sound like you were asking just for curiosity, not because you were worried.

Hyunjin smiled, “He’s the best, you got nothing to worry about”

“Hyunjin’s right. He’ll be back before you know it”

You believed them. They had known Han for so long you couldn’t question them. The two men finished their drinks, and you made your way out of the club to Hyunjin’s black Bugatti. The ride to the house was quiet.

Once you were back you headed straight for Han’s room, hoping he would have returned. You pushed the door open, the hinges slightly creaking. The room was dark, but you could see that it was empty, his bed untouched. You knew he had done multiple jobs like these and never gotten a scratch but you couldn’t fight the feeling in your stomach. Telling you that something was off.

You took a deep breath, and you could smell the scent of Han’s cologne in the room. You tried to calm your thoughts and walked to the living room. Changbin and Seungmin were sprawled on the couch, watching some sort of action movie. They barely glanced you as you entered, mumbling a greeting before focusing on the tv screen again.

You sat on one of the armchairs, trying to concentrate on the movie to get your thoughts elsewhere. Changbin seemed to notice your restlessness and paused the movie, looking at you. “You okay?” he asked, his voice a mix of concern and boredom.

You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice light, “Yeah. Just worried about Han” you admitted. You didn’t care if the others noticed how you felt about Han. They had probably already realized it.

“He has the best shot in the Strays. He’s got it” Seungmin said, turning his focus back on the tv screen. Changbin hit the play button on the remote, the explosions and car chases of the movie filling the silence.

“You know Han. He’s more at home in a gunfight than he is in a kitchen” Changbin said, crossing his arms over his chest and making his position on the couch more comfortable.

You let out a weak laugh and curled up your legs, wrapping your arms around them. “I know. That’s what everyone keeps saying”

“Because it’s the truth” Seungmin nodded, eyes leaving the tv for a few seconds to look at you.

You left the conversation end in that. You knew there was nothing you could do but just wait for him to come back. For a while you watched the movie but started to get tired, pushing yourself off the chair and heading upstairs for your room. You changed into your pajamas, a grey top and black shorts before removing your makeup and glitter off your face. You climbed into the bed and laid there staring at the ceiling, letting sleep drift you away.

You woke up at some point and looked to the window. It was still night, the moon casting a silver glow into your bed. You threw back the covers and quietly made your way downstairs to check if Han was back. You looked into his room but to your disappointment it was still empty. You sighed and closed the door.

You heard mumbling from the living room and peaked in and there Han was, sitting on the edge of the couch, his body hunched over. He was mumbling to himself, and your attention moved to his shirt, it was soaked in blood. Your hand found it’s way over your mouth “Han” you whispered.

He looked up, the corners of his lips twitching upwards, “Hey y/n” he tried to speak carefully, but winced as his movements caused pain. “You’re hurt” you murmured, stepping closer to him. He was holding his shoulder, which probably was the source of all that blood. Han winced again as he stood up, “It’s not as bad as it looks. But I could use some help”

“What happened?” you asked, voice slightly trembling. You were right being worried about him and the job. Han’s eyes met yours “It’s part of the job. I’m okay, it’s just a flesh wound.” He tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace.

You motioned him to follow you, “Let’s get it cleaned up” you said and moved to the big bathroom upstairs, Han following you. The cold tiles made you shiver as you stepped to the bathroom barefoot. Han sat on the toilet lid and took off the blood-stained t-shirt. You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks flush red at the sight of his bare upper body. Also noticing the tattoo on his chest saying “Strays’. Han lifted the wounded arm on the sink so it would be easier to clean. Before he could catch you staring you started to look for a first-aid kit.

As you found one under the sink you moved closer to Han. The wound looked messy because of the dried blood around it. A bullet had grazed his shoulder, leaving a ragged wound on it, “It’s not too deep” you murmured, trying to reassure yourself as much as him.

You let water run over the wound to clear out the blood. Han hissed as the water stung the wound but didn’t flinch away. You cleaned the wound by rubbing and tapping the blood off. “What happened?” you asked softly, “Hyunjin and Felix told me you were doing a favor for a client”

Han’s eyes found yours as he answered “The target knew about the job and was prepared” he said clenching his jaw in pain. You could see sweat beading on his forehead, as it took effort for him to keep his body still.

“Were you able to do it?” you asked carefully, and Han nodded in response.

You gathered the necessary items to cover up the wound and returned to his side. “You know. You’re really ruining the whole ‘badass mafia guy’ with your clumsiness” you said, trying to bring some light to the situation.

Han cracked a smile “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh and began tying the wound with a bandage. “I had a feeling tonight” you admitted, “I don’t know why, but something felt off”

“Intuition” Han murmured. “It has saved my life more times than I can count.”

You nodded, eyes staying on the bandage. “I couldn’t focus on the performance properly. All I could think about was you” you said voice barely above a whisper.

You could feel Han’s gaze softening, “You’re always on my mind, too” he murmured back. Your already racing heart felt like it would come out of your chest any minute now. Where you about to confess? Did he feel the same way towards you?

You swallowed hard and taped the bandage closed. You two went silent and you noticed that Han’s eyes never left you, staring right into your soul. When you finished the taping, you took a step back. “All done”

“Thank you” he smiled at you.

You nodded, “You should go rest. You have had it rough” you said gently.

Han’s eyes kept staring into your own, “Can I stay with you?” he whispered.

It felt like your heart stopped beating but you nodded slowly “Sure”. He smiled in return and grabbed your hand, walking you to your room. Your heart and mind were going crazy, was this really happening? The air was thick with tension as he let go of your hand and climbed under your sheets. He let out a long sigh with his body heavy with exhaustion and pain. You followed him and pulled the covers over you and turned to face Han who was already staring at you.

The room was quiet, the only sound was the clock ticking on the wall. You two laid in silence as your eyes wandered on his face. You surprised yourself with your actions as you reached your hand to brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes. “You should sleep” you whispered.

Han nodded, his eyes still not leaving yours. The silence grew heavier with anticipation. Your gaze lingered on his lips a moment too long. You felt the urge to lean in and close the gap between you but you held back. You were still unsure if he felt the same, even after his earlier words.

But Han seemed to think the same and didn’t hesitate. He gently tugged you closer and you could feel his warm breath against your lips. He looked into your eyes like searching for permission. He found it in your eyes, the way you looked at him and pressed his lips against you. His kiss was soft and you melted into the kiss, placing your hand on his cheeks. For that moment, everything else outside the room ceased to exit.

[shrapnarl]

.

quick dreamsnso i can find them later

[papercorgiworld]

I pretty please request a little fic abt Enzo being jealous, you write him so well 🙁

“I’m your brother’s best friend, I'm allowed to be jealous.”

A jealous Enzo Berkshire x Nott!reader imagine 

Cedric asking you out has innocent Enzo freaking out.

Warning: a little bit of smut, little bit

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Blaise asks as he looks at Theodore who stares at you and Enzo entering the great hall laughing. “What?” Theo asks lazily. “That Enzo’s drooling over your sister?” Theodore snorts. “No, it doesn’t bother me. Rather Enzo than Matt.” Mattheo’s brows furrow as his eyes roll to Theo, raising his hands offended with his mouth still stuffed with food. “What’s wrong with me?” Mattheo says after quickly swallowing his food, but is quick to add: “On second thought, don’t answer that question.” Blaise chuckles but returns his focus on Theodore, asking silently to answer his earlier question seriously. “Enzo’s a good guy.” Theo explains. “I kinda hope they’ll end up together. He’ll be good to her and she’ll be good for him. Enzo doesn’t get into fights and he’s not a possessive psycho. He’ll treat her right.” Mattheo’s eyes knit together again. “Why do I feel so attacked?” Theodore ignores him and continues with a hushed voice since Enzo and you are approaching. “I kinda hope he’ll finally make a move.” Blaise raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. “Don’t hold your breath mate.” Enzo plops down next to Blaise. “Hold your breath for what?” Theodore smirks. “For Dumbledore to give slytherin points for something.” A soft laugh leaves your lips. “Never happening.” Enzo’s eyes focus on your smile as you fill your plate. That smile. 

Enzo was madly in love with you, but you were Theo’s little baby sister so he assumed you were off limits for him. However, Cedric Digory wasn’t friends with Theodore so there was no reason for him to stay away from you. You and Cedric had been good friends for years, much to Enzo’s dismay and every year you got prettier and every year Cedric showed more interest in you and every year Enzo ended up hating Cedric more. 

***

“Oh all bowtruckles in a tree! He asked you out!” Luna's eyes go wide, not believing what she had just heard. You nod and smile, leaving the classroom. “Yes, I know, crazy, right?” But your joy instantly disappears when you see Enzo approaching, his soft demeanour changing with every step he takes. Enzo was the best, but every year you noticed how he got more and more annoyed with guys showing interest in you. He also had made it very clear that nothing would ever happen between you two because bro code and stuff. Honestly, the most ridiculous thing ever, especially since your brother had the hottest friends ever. Right now, you were seriously getting annoyed with Enzo, what did he expect of you, to stay single forever? Not happening. “Who asked who out?” Enzo forces a smile as his eyes move between you and Luna. You sigh. “Cedric asked me out.” You say, bracing yourself for whatever irrational argument Enzo was gonna throw at you. “Ah, yes, that ‘good’ friend of yours that I’ve been warning you about since forever. I told you that guy is only after one thing-” You make eye contact with Luna and raise your eyebrows, before interrupting Enzo. Leaning a bit his way you whisper: “Well, I hope so, because honestly Enz, I’m only after one thing as well.” Your voice sounds bittersweet to Enzo and he watches you and Luna walk away giggling. He clenches his jaw as he considers his options. Talk reason into you, impossible. Punch reason into Cedric, not my style. Or be a tattletale and spill the news to your brother...

***

“She’s going on a date with Digory!” Enzo yells as soon as he enters the slytherin common room and spots Theodore. Theo looks up to see a fuming Enzo approach. “You should do something.” Enzo says, calming down a bit, but also annoyed by the lack of response from Theo. “Like what?” Theodore asks eyebrows knitting together as he folds the newspaper he was reading before Enzo stormed in. “Tell her not to go. The guy’s bad news.” Theodore lazily stares at Enzo. “The guy’s a Hufflepuff, he’s barely news, let alone bad news. And tell her not to go… You obviously don’t know much about siblings, but let me tell you this: they don’t listen.” 

“What! You’re just gonna let her?” Theodore was getting a little frustrated with Enzo’s tone and Mattheo could barely keep himself from laughing at seeing Enzo so upset. “Yeah, as long as she doesn’t date Mattheo I’m good with it.” Theo says with a bit of a sterner voice and Mattheo frowns feeling offended a second time today, but Enzo’s clearly angry with Theo and shakes his head. “You rather have her date someone like Cedric than one of your friends?!” There’s silence but Enzo’s just so terrified of you going out and falling in love with someone while he’s left pining, that all his feelings boil over into anger. “What kind of a shit brother are you!”  At those words Theodore gets up in a second, almost pressing his head against Enzo’s to make sure Enzo gets the message. “I’m not a shit brother and I never said that I'd rather have her date Cedric than one of my friends, just not Mattheo but trust me Berkshire if you keep this crap up then you’ll be out of my sister’s life in no time.”

Enzo’s so angry that he can barely process what Theodore is saying, but he’s sane enough to walk away and not pick a fight with his friend and the brother of the girl’s crushing on. 

“Why always use me as the definition of trouble?” Mattheo complains, making Theodore roll his eyes. “Cause you are, I just hoped we had at least one sane friend in our group, but apparently Enzo’s just as dysfunctional as the rest of us.” Theodore sighs, unclenching his fists and sitting back down.

 ***

You leave your classroom to find a shaky Enzo pacing the hallway. When he spots you he immediately walks over to you and you can see the nervousness in his eyes. “What's wrong?” You ask as his hand firmly wraps around your arm. “We need to talk. Now.” His voice is urgent and his eyes avoid yours. “Enzo calm-” “No, it’s important.” Enzo snaps at you and pushes a door open, shoving you into a broom closet. “You can’t go out with him.” Enzo states as soon as he closes the door behind him. There’s a dim light that lights his pained face just enough for you to see. “Enzo-” Your voice is soothing, but Enzo’s too afraid of what you’ll say so he continues to rant. “It physically hurts when I think of you being with someone else, loving someone else. So just, I beg you, just don’t go out with him.” He sighs and moves a hand over his sweaty forehead. “I almost had a fight with your brother, because I’m freaking out and I’m freaking out because I know Cedric is a good guy and you like him and you’ll love him and forget about me and I- I-.”

You grab his face and place an urgent kiss on his lips, hoping you’ll keep Enzo from spiralling any further, but to your surprise he suddenly spirals into a whole different direction. Eagerly kissing back, one hand finding the small of your back as he takes a step towards you pushing you against the wall of the small closet you’re in. “I need you.” Enzo breathes lips only inches away from yours and his eyes piercing you, silently begging you to let him love you. “Let me have you.” His husky hungry voices make your knees go weak. “Have me, Enz.” You whisper, meeting his lips with an equal amount of hunger. What took you so long. He kisses you until you're out of breath then he leaves sloppy kisses on your jaw, before sucking at the flesh of your neck like you taste divine to him. His hands lustfully trace every inch of your body, squeezing the flesh of your thighs and ass. “I’ll make you love me.” Your eyes roll to the back of your skull at the sound of his determined voice. Not that you needed him to do anything, you had already fallen for him before he had even seen you as someone more than just Theo’s sister. However, you were more than enjoying Enzo working for your love. 

***

You straighten your skirt and do your best to comb your hair with your fingers to look as decent as possible after what Enzo had just done to you in that tiny closet. “You look fine.” Enzo ensures smiling at you adoring your beauty as you stand there nervously watching if anyone has seen you two leave the broom closet. You force a weak smile and Enzo can’t help but get nervous as well. Though not about getting caught with you, but about whether or not he had convinced you to not go out with Cedric. Even having you moan and cry his name wasn’t enough to reassure him that you were his. He needed to know. “Are you still going out with him?” Enzo blurs and your eyes meet his. Is he for real? “Was this really all because Cedric asked me out?” Enzo shrugs, a bit embarrassed about how he had acted. A soft chuckle leaves your lips. “Really Lorenzo Berkshire you got jealous?” His hands sink into his pockets and he stares at the floor, thinking of a good response. “I’m your brother’s best friend, I’m allowed to be jealous.” 

You frown at his silly excuse. “Pretty sure Matt’s my brother's best friend and even if you were that’s not an excuse at all. Neither does it excuse what you just did to me in that closet.” Enzo takes a step closer to you and meets your eyes. “What do you want me to say?” Your eyes drown in his. “The truth Enz.”

He takes a deep breath, before confessing. “I’m so incredibly jealous, because I’m in love with you.” A happy smile tugs on your lips and Enzo’s delighted at how happy you are with his confession.

“You know… I never said yes to Cedric.” Enzo’s eyes widen and his mouth almost drops. “What?” A sweet laugh escapes you at the view of his shocked face. “I only ever said that he asked… I wanted to say yes, but I couldn’t because I’m in love with you.” Within a split second Enzo’s lips crash onto yours. You had just made this man the happiest in all of Hogwarts.

Word count: 1771

Picture link: https://pin.it/2LVDPbwNS

[lanadelnegan]

Ghost - Part 5 (final)

Negan x Glenn'sSister!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, angst, angry sex, p in v, anal, sex on Negan's bike, slight daddy kink, situationship

Part 4 here // Part 1 here

“Knew I’d find you here, doll.” Negan got off his bike, sighing before he sat next to me on the steps of the cabin. “Wanna tell me why the hell you just up and left?” His leg pressed against mine as I stared ahead at the ground, unable to look at him. 

“Just needed time to think.”

“Look at me.” His voice was deep, demanding, and I could hear the pain dripping from it. I refused to look at him.. refused to blink. All I could do was stare at a walker pinned to a tree in the distance like it might save me from this moment. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Negan nod disappointedly before looking away and my heart sank.  “We’ve both had enough time to think, y/n.” His voice cracked when he said my name like tears were forming in his throat. “On the drive over here, I had every intention of fighting for you. For us. But then I thought, I don't want to be with someone who isn’t certain they wanna be with me too.”

I nodded acceptingly. “That’s fair.” I refused to cry, not wanting him to see how this was affecting me. I’d be brave now, and feel sorry for myself later like always. “So why are you even here, then?” I asked and the question made Negan scoff. “Because I at least have enough respect for you to tell you goodbye.”

“I guess you don’t remember our first night together.” I scoffed back at him. 

“How can I ever fuckin’ forget? … and that? Is the problem. Buuut…” His voice changed suddenly, like he switched into the asshole character I saw at Alexandria the first time. “...If I can survive losing Lucille, I’ll damn sure be okay losing you, darlin’.” 

His words felt like a punch to my gut, leaving me numb and speechless. Negan stood after a few moments, whistling as he walked back to his bike but I was behind him before he could reach it. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” I whisper-yelled, not wanting to draw the attention of the dead. 

Negan quickly turned to face me, smirking while he towered over me. “It means.. I’ll go back to my wives at the sanctuary. And you? can sit here for the rest of your lonely little life.. wishing you still had me.” 

My only response was my hand colliding with his cheek hard enough to sting my skin and draw blood from his lip. Negan grinned wider, showing his white teeth as he wiped a drop of blood away with his thumb. There was a darkness in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before and it made me wonder how I was stupid enough to ever believe there was good in him. 

“Fuck you.” My jaw clenched as I spoke and mindfully held back my fists at my sides, desperately wanting to press one into his arrogant skull. 

“Yeah?” He asked, tilting his head. “Okay.” He breathed before pulling me forward by my wrist and smashing his lips into mine. I tasted the lingering blood on his mouth and sucked harder at his lip like it was some miracle drug that would heal me from his hurtful words. 

He bit me back and I shoved him away, breathing heavily. A low grumble came from his throat before he pulled me back to him and wrapped his fingers around throat. “You want me to stop? Tell me.” His grip tightened around my neck and my lips remained closed. His head fell back as he let out a loud chuckle and returned his heavy gaze to mine. My eyes watered from the pressure building in my neck and his eyes softened along with his grip.

Negan looked away before letting go of my neck completely. For a moment I thought he felt bad about it, until he grabbed my wrist and maneuvered me to bend over his bike. I gasped when my stomach pressed into the seat and knocked the wind out of my lungs. Before I had a chance to stand, Negan yanked my shorts down along with my underwear and lined his already hard and ready cock up to my entrance. 

"You ready to stop with the dramatics, darlin'? We both know we can't stay away from each other." He slid into me with one deep push and kept himself there for a moment. "Feel how perfect that is? We were made for each other, baby." He began thrusting and my moans grew louder as heat flooded my core. 

His hand found my ponytail and he jerked it harshly, making me yelp and my back arched while his dick reached a deeper level inside me.

"Negan, fuuuuck, feels so good."

"I know baby, I know." He breathed heavily, keeping his pace fast and steady. Letting go of my ponytail, his hand dropped to my ass while the other remained squeezing my hip. I exhaled a pained breath when I felt his thumb force its way into my other hole.

"So pretty and tight." He said, looking down to watch his thumb and cock slide in and out of me simultaneously. Then suddenly he removed both and I whined at the empty feeling.

He circled the head of his dick around my asshole and my eyes went wide with the sudden painful stretch of his tip entering.

"Fuck." Negan grunted before pushing the rest of length inside me until his balls were pressed against my pussy lips. We both moaned in unison as his pace sped up. "Shit, baby, look at you. Taking daddy's cock like a fucking pro. So fucking proud of my girl." He yanked my ponytail again, hitting a spot that made me see stars.

"Negan!" I practically screamed.

His other hand reached in front of me, covering my mouth. His fingers gripped painfully around my face, bringing tears to my eyes while he ripped my insides apart.

"Goddamn it, doll. Gonna fill that little ass with my cum and watch it drip outta you. You want that? Huh?" He pulled you back further towards him, biting your neck after whispering the filthy words in your ear.

The heat continued to build in your core and you felt yourself getting close. "Yes, please Negan. I need it, please!" I begged desperately.

Negan chuckled darkly and pulled back, leaving you empty again. He finished himself off with his hand, grunting as he spilled onto the ground.

I turned around, pulling my shorts back up quickly. "What the hell?" I asked, confused at his sudden change of plans.

"Ahhh." He said relieved, buttoning himself back up and adjusting his clothing. "Something wrong, darlin'?"

I scoffed, staring at him in disbelief. "No, not at all."

"Good. Because I'm done pleasing you, sweetheart." Negan smirked at you, throwing a leg over his bike and starting the engine.

"Just like that, huh? You're just.. giving up that easy? Did I mean anything to you?"

"Of course. Always will. And when you work out your own shit and realize you fucked up, I'll be here. I love you, y/n. Nothing will change that."

I watched him disappear in the distance as he drove off, taking my heart with him.

Three weeks later:

I've settled back into Alexandria, slowly making amends with the group. The Saviors had a falling out the day we attacked the Sanctuary and we haven't seen any of them since. Except Negan.

After our escapade at the cabin, Negan had apparently drove to Alexandria and surrendered. He's been a prisoner here since the day he showed up and my heart hurts for him. I haven't been to see him, and by doing so, I'm only hurting myself. I guess its my punishment to myself for letting him go. But its been three weeks now and I can't wait any longer.

Everyone knows about our past situationship after I felt it necessary to come clean. I figured we would never be able to move on unless I told the truth. At first it didn't go well, but time mends everything and I think they're starting to forgive me.

It was getting dark when I knocked on Rick's door, explained the cause of my desperation, and he reluctantly gave me the keys to Negan's cell. Arriving at the door of the basement, I took a deep breath, and walked down the stairs into darkness. The only light in the cold room was the moonlight shining through one small window by his cell and it reminded me of our moment together in the trailer - the day I took a bullet for him. I knew then I was in love him with him and nothing has changed since.

"Negan.." I whispered, walking closer.

He lied on his back on his cot, looking up at the ceiling with a hand behind his head.

Silence.

"Please talk to me."

Nothing. He wouldn't even look at me.

"Ok, I'll talk then." I leaned against his bars. "I'm sorry it's taken me awhile to come see you. I needed some time to work out my shit - as you put it." I paused, giving him a moment to react but he didn't. "Well.. it's worked out. If you care?" I said teasingly.

His head fell to the side as he looked at me, trying not to smile. I took that as a welcome sign and quickly opened his cell door with the key. He barely had time to stand up before I ran to his arms and kissed him like my life depended on it.

He lifted me before laying me down on the cot and climbing over me. His mouth stayed connected to mine and without words, we made a million promises to each other in that moment.

We'd never leave again.

A/n: This final part was slightly difficult for me to finish. I have so many other one-shots in process that I'm ready to focus on, so I'm sorry if this felt rushed. But this entire story was so fun to write. Thanks so much to whoever requested it! <3

Tag list: tag list: @loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor @dilfsandmartinis @sarahhxx03 @minaxcarter @kukka-roo @rinsdesires @6kaja9 @sasiiik9174 @fanficwriter5 @theoraekenslover

[officialrocketjumper]

HOWDY EVERYONE- so excited to FINALLY be able to show off my piece for this year's Bumbleby Big Bang!

Unfortunately no accompanying story as of yet- but I really hope you guys get to read it someday! The premise involves Yang cursed to be trapped inside a sword, which was an idea I KNEW I had to make move.

Details and development stuff under the cut!

Lots of fun collaboration with the author, Celeste! We worked together to find the look-of-picture, Blake's outfit, how the Grimm look, the style of the sword, the whole shabang! I'm really happy with how it all turned out!

When I first saw all the prompts, even before claims opened, I got to work on a handful of exploration pieces based on some of the summaries, to decide which of the stories I was interested in would be the best fit. Here's the initial idea for this one I put together over a lunch break:

After showing Celeste, we got to work finding the look we wanted! Went back and forth a bit and found this great look for Blake! Also shoutout to Pinterest boards for visdev inspiration I love you Pinterest boards.

Just about everything stayed to final anim, with the simplification of getting rid of that purple cloth hanging from her belt, (since I already had the rope ends to think about working with), and the light purple strap across the chest, since leaving it out would simplify the linework on her chest.

The sword also went through a bit of change! Celeste had the idea of Yang making the sword catch on fire, which I LOVED. I went with a split design so we can see the fire more clearly start from the hilt and grow to cover the whole blade.

And from there we brainstormed animation ideas! I went all over Youtube for video reference of sword work (that would be complex enough to be interesting, but short enough to be manageable). I found something we liked from Motion Actor Inc., a channel I've used LOTS for both personal and professional work (I work in 3D Animation, for those who don't know). I edited this together, to see the action from multiple places at once, which gave me the idea for that camera move that's in the final anim!

Now for the fun part! Make that badboy MOVE. For the cam turn, the first frame she's in the air I'm referencing the top left video, and the frame she lands I'm referencing the bottom left one. While she's airborne I'm just inbetweening that! No reference for the Grimm, just wanted it responding to her attacks, but I end up tweaking the roughs later on to make the block feel stronger.

Then from there we had to actually figure out Grimm designs! Nimona had just released, and Celeste and I loved it, so she asked if I could take some inspiration from Nimona's shadow form! GLADLY. Here's what I came up with!

I was going between how the movies and comic designed Nimona, really loving the almost liquid shadow of the movie, but also how the comics had this broken up/held together rougher form. Celeste liked the second to last one the best! The original plan was to have it leave a wispy shadow trail like the concept art, but to simplify the animation we left it solid instead!

Next up is tiedown! Basically just getting the roughs more on-model, so the lineart comes out nice and clean. I've also transferred the new Grimm design to the base from earlier, and fire's also outlined orange so it reads clearer. (SPOILER- if you look REAL close here, you can see Yang visible in the fire! I liked the idea of Blake's slash also doubling as Yang throwing a punch. The idea is in the concept art earlier but now it's working with the action.)

Next step- final look of picture!! I asked Celeste for sources of inspiration to draw from when thinking about environment design, and we got Nimona, She-Ra, and Owl House! Used each of those as springboards for shading style, colour palettes, and how the fire would look!

From there, we kept the straight trees/bush/lake/foreground greenery from the first one, the blues from the second, and the fire from the third!

Once I had this frame, it was a matter of working backwards and making the background work pre-camera turn (which was ABSOLUTELY the most challenging part of this process). Learned a lot doing this! Procreate isn't quite equipped to make something like this efficient, but I'm pleased to say that Dreams would make something like this easier in the future (keyframing objects instead of hand-drawing/spacing duplicates by hand, for example).

From then on it was just colouring the lineart, adding shading, and finishing up the background! Beginning-to-end this whole process was beginning of July to end of October!

I had an absolute BLAST putting all this together. Here's to next year where I find a way to do something even more ridiculously complicated!! It's fun!!!

[batneko]

okay, time to actually type up my thoughts on this AU! With some new art to make it worth it.

for context, here's part one and part two.

so the basics are, Bowser is continually trying to conquer the city and being fought off by the bros, who do have superpowers (I thought about drawing lightning around Luigi's fist but I don't know how to make that look good in lineart) and costumes and "hero names," but don't hide their faces so they don't exactly have secret identities. It's more like being an actor with a stage name. Since they're fairly average-looking dudes they don't get recognized all the time, especially when they're apart, but Mario definitely does more often than Luigi.

But even when they're not recognized by the starbucks barista, people expect a lot of them. Not just stopping Bowser, but stopping everyday problems, rescuing cats from trees or standing in for a broken TV antenna. Eventually the pressure gets to Mario and he decides to fake his death and make a run for it. He's not really thinking clearly at the time and he regrets it almost immediately, but he can't bring himself to go back and face everyone's disappointment. He needs to figure himself out first.

He does at least contact Luigi as soon as he's out of the city to reassure him he's not dead. He doesn't tell him where he's going though, and Luigi can't contact him back, he has to wait for Mario to call, so Luigi does genuinely miss him and can fake grief when he needs to without too much prompting.

Bowser, meanwhile, was genuinely not expecting to "kill" his greatest rival. He never really wanted Mario dead, he just wanted the city! But he's not going to let this opportunity pass him by- Or so he thinks, until he's beaten into a pulp by the other hero that he usually forgot about.

Okay, fine, Bowser can still work with this. Heal up, regroup, give it another try- Aaaand this time he's ganged up on by three heroes he's never even seen before. What the heck is happening?

Turns out that without Mario's charismatic leader act keeping everyone reassured (and complacent), a bunch of people are stepping into the gap. Luigi, Peach, Daisy, probably more than one Toad or Yoshi... Bowser can't plan for this! They all have different powers, different strategies, different types of banter. He's overwhelmed.

So Bowser gets the idea that he needs just one hero to fight. Maybe with a sidekick, but still. That way he can time his cool speeches and minimize the amount he gets punched in the face. He already killed one of them, maybe if he works his way through the others one at a time he'll finally win. Eventually. Someday.

He gets the super crown disguise watch (I still haven't decided if there's a real guy whose appearance and name he is copying) and finds his first hero. Mario's sidekick. Should be the easiest one to fight, right? Bowser just needs to convince him that it's better for everyone if the city only has one hero at a time. It's about continuity. It'll reassure them. Give them a symbol.

Unfortunately for Bowser (and fortunately for us) Luigi is way too nice a guy to chase off some random bear person just for recognizing him and having Opinions about all this hero stuff. Luigi talks to him, addresses his concerns, answers his questions, and the guy is actually surprisingly willing to listen. Most people who try to tell him how to do his job don't care about facts and logic!

Next thing Bowser knows, he's been invited for coffee next week. That's... fine, right? This is progress! It's not a date, it's just getting close to his target! And it's definitely not a problem that Luigi is really cute and sweet and patient and has big blue eyes and a nice smile and the warmth of his handshake lingered for the rest of the afternoon...

Everything is totally fine! 👍

[tomurasghoul]

HAWKS (KEIGO TAKAMI) X (G/N) READER

summary: going on a date with hawks <3

A/N: sorry for not posting much, ive been a mix of busy, unmotivated and uninspired, but im back now :3

includes: fluff, mild swearing, innuendos.

When Keigo asked you out, you were over the moon. You've had a crush on him for a while now, and for him to want to take you out on a date, was like a dream come true.

I mean, how could you not have a crush on him? He's absolutely gorgeous, suave, funny and a true gentleman. You and him had been friends for a while, and now you were finally taking it to the next step.

He wanted to meet you at the park, so you put on something casual. Although, you still wanted to impress him, so you accessorized with some jewelry.

Then, it was finally time.

When you arrived at the park at exactly 23:00 like he asked, of course, nobody was there at that time of night, Keigo had specifically planned it that way, so the two of you could get some privacy without him being mobbed by fans.

You sat down on a nearby bench, waiting for your date to arrive.

A few minutes later, you spotted a pair of crimson wings flying towards you.

'Hey there, hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long.' He landed in front of you.

Luckily, he wasn't dressed up either. Just wearing an oversized white sweater and baggy jeans. For some reason, he also had a big backpack with him.

'Now, let's get to walking. I've got a nice spot for us to go to.'

While you were walking through the foresty part of the park, there was a comfortable silence. Both of you guys just looking around, taking in the beautiful view of the red and yellow fall leaves on the trees. The bright moonlight lit up the park, so it wasn't too dark to see.

At some point, you two were walking so close together, you noticed the backs of your hands touching. You were wondering if Keigo noticed it too, when he suddenly reached around and grabbed your hand. There was your answer.

'I'm sure you don't mind, right?'

'No, I don't.' You blushed and looked away.

He must've noticed your blushing, cause he had a cheeky grin on his face the rest of the way there.

You eventually arrived at the spot Keigo had meant to take you to. It was a gorgeous lookout with a view of the lake beneath you.

To your displeasure, he let go of your hand.

He opened the mysterious backpack he had with him and took out a red and white-checkered picnic blanket and snacks and laid them out under a willow tree.

'Did you think I'd let you sit on the ground?' He winked at you goofily.

'You didn't have to bring all this for me.' You said as you sat down next to him on the blanket.

'Only the best for you, birdie.'

You chuckled at the petname.

'Don't laugh at me!' He said, pretending to be offended. 'Now, eat up.' He fed you a strawberry to shut you up.

'Damn, you didn't have to force-feed me.' You punched his shoulder playfully.

'Shut your mouth before I force-feed you something else.' He punched you back a little bit harder.

'Why don't you make me shut up?' You provoked him.

'Don't try me. I'll kick your ass.'

The two of you started play-fighting. While you fought with all your strength, he was actually holding back, cause as a hero, he was much stronger than you. He wasn't letting you win, though.

'Wow. you really aren't gonna let your date win?' You feigned anger.

'You're such a brat.'

That's when he pinned you to the ground and kissed you. It was a short moment, but the feeling of his lips on yours took your breath away.

'That ought to shut you up.' He smirked as he released you wrists from his grip and sat back up.

And he was right, it did shut you up. You were silent for a while as you stared off into the distance.

'Hey, I didn't actually mean the thing about shutting you up.' Keigo spoke up after a little while. He was afraid he'd overstepped a boundary.

'I know, I'm just looking at the view. It's really beautiful.' You tried to distract him from the fact that the kiss flustered you.

'Yeah, it really is.' He said, looking at you instead of the view.

[fleming-o]

Her home

Jessie Fleming x Reader

just had this saved up in my drafts for a while now thought i’d post it

i’m bored recently sooo send some requests

around 3k words

Meeting jessie’s mom for the first time

---

The drive back from the airport feels longer than it should, even with the sun dipping low on the horizon, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and orange. You stare out the window, watching the familiar scenery of Ontario roll by—the tall trees lining the highways, the scattered small towns, and the occasional lake sparkling under the evening light. Jessie’s hand rests on the steering wheel, her other one occasionally reaching over to squeeze your knee in a silent reassurance. It’s a gesture you’ve grown used to, the way she always seems to know when your thoughts start to spiral.

The Olympics were... not what either of you expected. Both your teams didn’t make it past the group stage, and it felt like a harsh punch to the gut. Weeks of anticipation and hard work came crashing down too quickly, and now all that’s left are the long flights home and the sting of regret. The past few days have been a blur of disappointment—watching Jessie put on a brave face, trying to be strong even when you knew it was tearing her up inside.

“You want to stop somewhere for food?” Jessie asks, glancing over at you. Her voice breaks the silence, and you turn to see her tired smile. She’s trying to keep the mood light, but you can tell the weight of it all still lingers in her eyes.

You shake your head. “I’m good... just kind of want to get there, you know?”

Jessie nods, understanding. “Yeah, me too.” There’s a moment of silence before she adds, “I think Mom’s got dinner planned. She’s been texting me all day.”

You can’t help but smile at that. Jessie’s mom seems like the type who always has something cooking, always making sure everyone’s fed and happy. It’s a stark contrast to what you grew up with, and the thought of it makes your chest tighten a little.

As Jessie pulls into the driveway of her childhood home, the soft glow of the porch light welcomes you. It’s a modest house, not overly big or flashy, but there’s something warm about it. Flowers line the pathway leading up to the door, and you can see little trinkets and wind chimes hanging from the porch roof, swaying gently in the breeze. The house feels like it’s been lived in, loved—full of memories that have settled into every corner.

Jessie turns off the car, and the two of you sit in the quiet for a moment, neither of you quite ready to break the stillness. You can feel your nerves bubbling up, the anxious twist in your stomach making it hard to sit still.

“Hey,” Jessie says softly, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to be nervous. They’re going to love you.”

You nod, trying to take in her words, but there’s a part of you that can’t help the worry. You’ve never really done the whole “meet the parents” thing before, not like this. And Jessie’s family—they seem so together, so much like what you always wished you had growing up. It’s hard not to feel out of place.

Before you can respond, the front door swings open, and a golden retriever bounds out onto the porch, her tail wagging so furiously it’s almost a blur. She rushes over to Jessie first, jumping up to greet her with happy whines, then turns her attention to you, tilting her head in curious inspection. Jessie laughs, giving the dog a good scratch behind the ears. “This is Ruby,” she says, her tone affectionate. “She’s kind of the welcoming committee.”

You kneel down, feeling Ruby’s soft fur as she presses her head against your hand. There’s something immediately comforting about her; she’s warm and eager, her body language so clearly saying that you’re welcome here. It’s easy, uncomplicated affection, and it makes you smile even though your nerves haven’t completely settled.

Jessie’s mom steps out next, her face lighting up as she sees you both. She’s got the same kind of warm energy that Jessie has—like being around her feels safe. She comes down the steps, wrapping Jessie in a tight hug before turning to you with a smile that makes your heart twist. It’s the kind of smile that says she’s genuinely happy to meet you, and you can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by it.

“You must be the famous girlfriend I’ve heard so much about,” Jessie’s mom says, pulling you into a hug that’s gentle but firm, like she’s pulling you into a circle you didn’t even realize you needed. “I’m Michaele , but you can call me Mom if you want. Jessie’s been talking about you nonstop.”

You feel your face warm, a mix of nerves and something like gratitude swelling in your chest. “It’s really nice to meet you,” you say, your voice coming out a little quieter than you intended. You’ve never been the type to feel at home right away, but there’s something different here—something that makes you want to try.

Inside, the house is exactly what you’d expect from Jessie’s family. It’s cozy and lived-in, with mismatched furniture and walls lined with photos. You can see pictures of Jessie everywhere—from when she was a little girl in a soccer uniform to more recent ones, like her Olympic moments captured in frames. The kitchen smells like roasted chicken and herbs, and it’s hard not to be struck by how it all feels. It’s a home in every sense of the word, filled with memories and love. For a moment, you can’t help but feel out of place—like you’ve stepped into a world you don’t quite belong in.

Dinner is a casual affair, and you find yourself seated at a table that’s cluttered with mismatched plates and glasses. Michaele serves up the food, and there’s an easy rhythm to it all—Jessie’s mom making sure everyone has enough, Ruby circling the table for scraps, Jessie slipping you reassuring glances every now and then. The conversation flows around you, light and full of gentle teasing between Jessie and her mom. You try to keep up, but there’s an ache in your chest that you can’t quite shake.

It’s strange, being surrounded by so much warmth. You’re used to empty dinners, to nights where food was something you had to scrape together yourself, where silence filled the air like a heavy fog. Being here, with Jessie’s family, feels like stepping into a dream you never quite dared to have.

“So, how was the flight?” Michaele asks, breaking into your thoughts.

Jessie laughs, shaking her head. “Long. And exhausting. I think we’re both ready to just crash.”

Michaele nods sympathetically, glancing over at you. “I’m so sorry you didn’t make it further. We were all rooting for you both. But you know, there’s always another chance.”

You try to smile, but it feels a little forced. “Yeah, maybe next time.” The words taste bitter on your tongue, and you look down at your plate, feeling the familiar sting of disappointment. The Olympics were supposed to be your moment, your chance to prove yourself, and it feels like you let it all slip away.

Jessie reaches under the table, her fingers finding yours and giving a gentle squeeze. It’s a small gesture, but it grounds you, pulls you back from the edge of your thoughts. “We’re both just glad to be home,” she says, her voice soft and reassuring. “And glad we get to spend time with you guys.”

After dinner, Jessie takes you up to her old bedroom. It’s small, but it’s unmistakably hers, with posters of soccer players plastered on the walls and a string of fairy lights that she flicks on as soon as you step inside. Ruby jumps onto the bed, circling around a few times before settling in at the foot, her tail thumping against the blankets.

You stand in the doorway for a moment, taking it all in. Jessie’s room is a reflection of her—simple, comforting, and filled with little touches that make it hers. It’s hard not to feel the sting of what you never had, the bedrooms that never felt like home, the lack of little touches that made you feel like you belonged somewhere.

Jessie watches you, her expression softening as she sees the emotions flicker across your face. She steps closer, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you against her. “Hey,” she murmurs, her voice low. “You’re okay. You’re here, and that’s what matters.”

You lean into her, burying your face in her shoulder as you let the emotions wash over you. There’s a sadness there, a longing for something you never had but always wanted. Jessie’s family feels like the kind of warmth you’ve spent your whole life looking for, and it’s hard to believe you’re allowed to be part of it, even just for tonight.

“I never had anything like this,” you admit quietly, your voice thick with unshed tears. “It’s just... really nice.”

Jessie pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes filled with understanding. “You’re part of this now, you know? My family... they’re yours too, if you want them.”

The words hit you hard, and you nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Jessie’s always been good at knowing what to say, at making you feel like you belong, even when you’re not sure you do. You find comfort in her embrace, in the way she holds you like she’s never letting go.

The two of you climb into bed, and Ruby snuggles between you, her warmth a welcome comfort. Jessie’s room is dimly lit, the soft glow of the fairy lights casting a warm hue across the walls. It feels like a small pocket of peace, a sanctuary away from all the chaos and pressure that’s been weighing on you both.

Jessie traces slow, gentle patterns on your back, her touch lulling you into a sense of calm you haven’t felt in days. “I know it’s been rough,” she whispers, her voice barely audible in the quiet. “But we’ve got each other. That’s all that matters.”

You nod against her, feeling the truth of her words sink in. It’s not perfect, and it never will be. But in this moment, lying in Jessie’s old bedroom with her arms around you and Ruby snuggled at your side, it feels like enough.

---

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 2

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Nothing major. Kissing. Pining. Lusting. 😁

Word Count: 5,192

A/N: Here is the next chapter. I hope you're enjoying this 1900s Dean x Reader AU. Thanks for all your kind words about Ch. 1.

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Dean visited the library at the same time for the next two days, hoping Y/N would be spending Lucy's nap time there again. But she didn't show up. He saw her only briefly when she came to dinner every evening. However, she rarely spoke and left quickly at the end of the meal. She was always polite, always answered any question put to her, but mostly she kept her head bowed demurely and stayed silent.

On the evening of his second day, as soon as Y/N was out of the dining room, Jessica walked up to Dean and punched him in the arm.

He shot her a glare as she moved off to help Sophie, their kitchen maid, clear the table. "What was that for?" he asked.

"What did you do to her?" Before he could defend himself Jessica put a hand up to stop him. "No, don't try to look innocent. Before your arrival we were making headway with Y/N. She'd been so painfully shy when she first got here. It was all, 'Yes, Sir’ and ‘Yes, Ma'am'. She'd finally begun to call me Jessica, but now I'm back to being Ma'am. And she barely speaks now! What did you do?"

Dean shrugged and gave his most innocent look. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Jessica rolled her eyes and moved off to the kitchen. Sam watched his wife walk out of the room before confronting Dean.

"Look, you know I don't tell you how to live your life. I walked away from Father's life, and you took it onto your shoulders. You get all the pressure, all the societal gossip, all the responsibility of keeping the family business afloat. For all of that, I figure that you're entitled to do as you choose in your personal life." 

Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "But Dean, don't mess around with this woman. She's kind and innocent and she doesn't deserve to be yanked around by you, or left broken-hearted."

Dean frowned. Did his brother really think he went around ruining women and breaking their hearts? "You wound me, Sammy." He said, only half joking. "I mostly bed bored wives and widows and they all know what the situation is. I don't go about my life leaving a trail of broken hearts behind me."

"How would you know?" Sam asked, sarcasm thick in his voice. "You never look back to notice." When Dean started to try and defend himself again Sam just shook his head. "Look, I just mean, don't treat Y/N with disrespect."

"Of course not." Dean said. But as Sam left to set up their card game in the parlor, Dean realized he had been disrespectful to Y/N. He'd have to track her down tomorrow and rectify that.

To Dean's delight the next day, he found Y/N at the far south end of Sam's property, sitting on a bench in the apple orchard. As he stepped from behind a large stand of trees, he cleared his throat, trying not to startle Y/N again. But she must have heard him coming through the leaves on the ground because she didn't look startled. She looked like a deer in the rifle sights of a hunter. He smiled, trying to put her at ease.

"Good afternoon, Y/N. I'm so glad I found you." He decided to do away with formalities, given the proposition he had planned.

She cleared her throat, but it was still soft and husky when she spoke. "Yes, so nice to see you too, Mr. Winchester. I was just about to head back up to the house, so if you'll excuse me…" She tried to walk briskly past him, but he caught her arm and tucked it into his.

"Wonderful, so was I. I'll walk you up to the house."

She looked like she wanted to argue, her mouth opening and closing several times before simply saying, "thank you" in a small voice. They walked a moment in silence. Then Dean decided to get right to the point.

"I realized that I may have seemed terribly rude the other day. I acted without explaining to you what my intentions were, what they are, I mean."

Y/N looked up at him, her expression surprised and slightly perplexed. "Your intentions?"

"Yes, you see, from the moment I saw you sitting on that bench by the train station, I've known I want to take you as my mistress."

Y/N stumbled, but Dean kept her upright. "Careful." He said as he stopped and turned to face her. "Now, I know that you're an intelligent, beautiful woman. I would never dream of asking you to come away with me if I couldn't provide for you." Dean smiled and began walking again, leading her forward.

"You'd have your own house, of course. I'd give you a household allowance and a clothing allowance. I'd expect you to attend some societal obligations with me. Only the ones where wives aren't present, obviously, but that's still a fair few. It would likely be one a week at least. Other than those obligations, your days would be yours and I would come to visit you a few times a week. I'll always try to let you know of my intentions the day before, but sometimes my schedule can be unpredictable."

Dean stopped again and turned to face Y/N. She stopped when he did, but stayed staring straight ahead. He couldn't tell what she thought of his proposal. He walked in front of her to try and see what her answer might be.

"Do you have any demands you would like to make of me?" He asked, unsure of her feelings.

Her features were flat and expressionless, until she met his gaze. Then he could see that her eyes burned so dark, they looked black. She raised her arm and her palm came down in a fiercely stinging slap across his left cheek. He stood stunned for a moment, before looking back to stare in astonishment at the absolutely furious woman standing before him. Her breasts were heaving, her cheeks were flushed and the anger sparked from her gaze like sparks from a fire. She was magnificent.

She raised her hand to slap him again, but he saw it coming this time and grabbed her wrist, holding tight. She pulled hard against his grip and he let her go, afraid that he'd break the fragile bones he could feel moving under his hand.

Suddenly her beautiful face contorted and she grabbed up her skirts and ran. It took Dean a moment to realize she was crying.

Well, dammit he thought. That did not go the way I planned.

***

Y/N sat in the library the next day alternating between rage and despair.

Clearly she was everything her mother had been. Obviously in spite of everything she'd worked for, the world could still tell she was the daughter of a fallen woman.

Her mother had been the disgraced daughter of an English Lord. She'd been shipped off to America to live with an elderly aunt until she could be safely married off to Y/N's father.

This was information she only learned at the age of sixteen when a so-called friend, Meg, had told her. Meg had tried to hide her glee as she explained to Y/N the reasons why some of the other girls at their boarding school shunned her. The rumors surrounding her mother and her hasty marriage were old, but still circulating.

Y/N had been mortified, but she'd confronted her mother about it at the summer break. Isobel had looked stricken but then said that yes, the rumors were true. She wouldn't talk about it except to say that Y/N should always keep herself pure and chaste. 

She took Y/N by the shoulders. "Your purity, your chastity, it is everything. The pious will tell you that your soul depends on it, but I'm telling you Y/N that not only will your soul suffer if you give in to passion, your life will suffer too. Stay away from men."

It was some of the last advice Isobel had ever given Y/N. Three weeks later, her mother died of blood poisoning after a cut had become infected.

Y/N hadn't known how to feel. She was sad, of course, but she'd barely known her mother, really. Her father had died when she was very young and her mother had been mostly absent, letting first the nannies and then teachers at the boarding school raise her daughter. 

On top of the rumors surrounding her early years, it was suggested by some that after her husband's death, Isobel lived as a kept woman. Y/N wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but she knew by the whispers and slightly curled lips that it was dirty and wrong.

And now she'd been offered the same life.

As she'd listened to Dean lay out his offer, she realized that this must have been what people had meant when they said her mother was "kept". A man had paid for her living expenses in exchange for…for what, exactly? Dean had said that he'd want her to accompany him out sometimes and that he'd visit her.

What would happen during those visits? Whatever it was had to be the reason people had seemed repulsed when they talked about Isobel.

Her mother had money, Y/N always knew that. It was how they afforded their beautiful home and the boarding school that was Y/N's other home. But when she'd been young she'd never thought where the money had come from, she assumed maybe from a trust her father had left.

But of course that was impossible. Her father had owned a modest general store with two locations in the city of New York. He had been firmly middle class, and couldn't have provided that kind of life for them.

When her schooling had ended shortly after her mother's death, she had no marriage prospects and no job prospects either. No one wanted a governess from a questionable past, especially one who was young and beautiful. That's what Mrs. Oliver had told her anyway.

Mrs. Oliver had been her savior. She was an elderly lady who sat on the board of the school and gave large donations. Y/N had met her at some of the school functions, when the girls were trotted out to converse with the patrons and show them their donations were creating lovely, demure young ladies.

Mrs. Oliver had liked Y/N right away. She liked her wit and her kindness and when Y/N left school, she’d offered her a position as her companion. Y/N took the position and counted her lucky stars.

Mrs. Oliver was still sharp and lively even into her seventies and working as her companion had been the happiest Y/N had ever been. She'd worked for Mrs. Oliver for just over five years before the lady passed away peacefully in her sleep.

Y/N had come to work for the Winchesters soon after, thanks to the glowing reference Mrs. Oliver had left for Y/N in her will. Now she'd been a governess for nearly two years, and had begun to believe that maybe she'd outrun her mother's scandalous life. Maybe she wouldn't turn into a "ruined woman incapable of controlling her passions". That was how she'd heard her mother described once.

But no, here she was, acting completely inappropriately with a man she'd only just met. Acting so inappropriately, in fact, that he believed she would welcome being a kept woman.

As she sat in the library, her rage left her and the despair rose again. She was a lost cause. Her soul was obviously already tarnished and if she wasn't careful, her life would be too.

***

Dean had gone to the orchard first, looking for Y/N, before trying the library, so his clothes were damp and his hair was wet from the misting drizzle that was falling. He tried the library as a last hope and almost heaved a sigh of relief as he saw Y/N's form folded into the green chair. 

He knew that Sam and Jessica had taken Lucy to town for a couple of hours to see the circus parade that was going down Main Street before setting up in the fairgrounds. Only the groundskeeper, Kenneth, and Sophie the cook were around. So Dean closed the door and turned the key in the lock. He didn't want to be disturbed.

As he approached her, he could tell that she had been crying. A pain he didn't recognize clenched his gut and he realized it was remorse. He had been the one to make her cry. He had to fix it.

"Good afternoon, Y/N." He said as he took a seat on the couch facing her.

She resolutely ignored him, as if he hadn't even spoken. She wasn't going to make this easy.

"Look," he began, "I can clearly see that I've hurt and insulted you. Please believe that was the last thing I intended. I only meant to show you that I didn't think you were just some easy maid to be tumbled and forgotten. I wanted you to know that I was offering you more. I wanted to provide you with luxury and wealth.”

He clasped his hands together. “I know my brother and sister-in-law pay well but still, a governess' salary isn't much. When we finished our time together, you would have had enough to live on your own quite comfortably. You'd be cared for, and wouldn't have to worry about earning money again. That's what I was trying to tell you. I wanted to offer you so much more than you have now. I thought perhaps you wanted more as well."

She looked up from her lap. Her stony face was still beautiful, even in its sharp, harsh lines. Her gaze scorched him.

"Please, leave. I am rejecting your proposal." Her voice was all ice; it made him long to melt it.

"I gathered that you rejected my proposal when you ran away from me and then refused to come to dinner last night." Sam and Jessica had been sure it was his fault she didn't come down and since he was also sure it was his fault, he didn't even argue very hard.

"I accept your rejection of my proposal. But I don't want to leave. I wanted to talk with you a while."

Y/N just returned her attention to the book she had in her lap. He sighed. He took a chance and moved to kneel on one knee in front of her chair. The closeness had the desired effect of surprising her out of her block of ice.

He took her chin in one hand, lightly, so she could pull away if she wanted to. She didn't.

"Truly, Y/N, I want you to know how sorry I am to have insulted you or hurt you. Please believe that was never my intention."

He saw a slight thaw in her gaze and decided to take it as a win. He didn't want to push his luck so he left the library.

He returned the next day in the hope that she would be there; she was. She was also there the next day and the day after that. The hours between two o'clock and four o'clock quickly became his favorite time of day. Over the three afternoons they spent together the ice in Y/N's smile began to thaw more and more until he was able to pull actual, sweet smiles from her. They were like a prize.

They spent their time discussing books they’d read and loved and explaining only a little bit about their backgrounds - Y/N seemed as reluctant as he was to discuss it. So instead they talked of world events and Y/N described her excitement at the prospect of the World's Fair that was coming to St. Louis in 1904. 

She’d longed to go to the previous World's Fair in Omaha the year before, but of course, she couldn't afford it and Lucy had been too little for Sam and Jessica to want to take her. Y/N hoped that because Lucy would be nearly eight years old by the time the next World's Fair arrived,Jessica and Sam might take them all to St. Louis to see it. When she talked about it, her enthusiasm and excitement made Dean very happy.

After dinner one evening he caught up with her as she left to go to her room in the nursery. He grabbed her hand and pulled her behind a large mahogany bookshelf. She looked surprised and tense. He smiled.

"Run away to the circus with me." It was such a ridiculous request that it shocked a chuckle out of her.

"What?" She asked, her mouth stretching into an adorable grin.

"Come with me tomorrow afternoon. It's the last day the circus will be in town, let's go see it. It's no World's Fair, but it should be fun. It's your day off tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"Don't say no. Say yes."

She shook her head. "Why are you even asking me if you're just going to answer your own question? Why not just ask yourself to go?" Her voice was teasing.

"I make terrible company."

"You're not being very convincing."

"I'll buy you popcorn."

"Well, that seals it then." Y/N said. "You should have started the request with popcorn."

***

Y/N stood in front of her mirror and contemplated changing for the third time that afternoon. The indigo blue cotton dress she wore now was simple and modest. The puffs on the sleeves weren't too large, which she'd liked a few minutes ago when she'd pulled it on. But now she was wondering if she should have puffed sleeves at all. Did it seem as if she was putting on airs, trying too hard to look like more than a governess? Perhaps she should have just worn the serviceable gray wool she wore during her days with Lucy.

Her opportunity to change ended when she heard the soft knock at the door and Jessica called, "The carriage is ready for you and Dean."

Y/N opened the door and smiled, trying to hide her nervousness. Jessica clasped her hands and brought them to her lips.

"Oh, Y/N, you look so beautiful. That dress is lovely."

"Thank you." Y/N said, suddenly shy. She liked Jessica very much, Sam too. They were both kind, fair, and wonderful employers. She felt as though they could be real friends if they weren't separated by the professional relationship between them.

She wondered what Jessica thought about her stepping out with her brother-in-law. Before she could wonder for very long, however, Jessica linked their arms and started walking Y/N towards the front door. On the way she offered some advice.

"Dean is a good man. You know, he paid for Sam's schooling and helped him start a practice in spite of their father's disapproval. He wanted both his sons to follow in his footsteps and run the business. But Dean knew that Sam's heart lay in the law. So, he defied the old man and took care of his brother." She took a deep breath. "So, please don't think that I'm giving you this warning out of any sort of concern about Dean's honor." 

She stopped just inside the front door. "He doesn't try to ruin women. He doesn't mean to break hearts. He's just…well, he's just him. And although he certainly knows he's more handsome than the devil," she rolled her eyes, "I really don't think he understands the effect he has on women. They fall for him, and he's moved on before he ever even thinks to catch them."

She grabbed Y/N's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I guess I just want you to be careful, and maybe put a bit of a wall up around your heart."

Y/N was blushing, but she nodded. She was way ahead of Jessica. Over the last few days Dean had shown her that he was intelligent, compassionate, sardonic but hilarious, and wonderful with his niece. She'd forgiven him for his proposal, believing that he was truly sorry and that it had all been a misunderstanding. Perhaps the way she'd behaved with him in the library that first day had made him believe she would welcome the offer.

Whatever the case, there had been no more such talk and in all other respects he'd acted as a perfect gentleman.

Did her heart still pick up its pace every time he walked into a room? Yes.

Did her stomach flip and fill with butterflies when she looked too long into his eyes? Yes.

Did her fingers sometimes itch and tingle with the need to reach out and touch him? Yes.

But as long as she didn't give in to her wanton thoughts, she would be fine. Dean was leaving in about a week; she could manage to hold herself in check. She admitted that she was excited for today's outing to the circus, but only because she'd always wanted to see one. It had nothing to do with Dean.

Then Jessica opened the front door and there he stood. He wore a dark gray suit that was tailored to him perfectly. His eyes were more of a mossy green than emerald today, and they were full of good humor. He smiled his dazzling smile at her and her belly was suddenly full of butterflies again.

He offered an outstretched hand for her to take so he could help her down the stairs. She slipped her hand into his and tried to ignore the warmth that spread up her arm because of the simple touch. But the thought came unbidden to her mind that she wanted to feel his hands everywhere. She was horrified and almost turned around to run back inside.

But she didn't. She continued with Dean into the carriage. Kenneth was driving them and he tipped his hat to her as she climbed in. The open air carriage allowed the sunlight to pour over her and she relished the extra days of summer they had been granted.

Dean climbed in and sat beside her. She could feel the hard length of his thigh even through her layers of skirts and petticoats. She tightened her fist around the parasol she carried and tried without success to ignore the feelings that came from sitting next to Dean.

He always smelled like shaving soap, and something very male, almost spicy, a scent that belonged to Dean alone. It never failed to make her salivate and swallow as though she was savoring a tasty treat.

They arrived at the circus grounds and Dean stepped out of the carriage and again offered Y/N a hand to help steady her down the steps in her skirts.

She stumbled slightly on the last step and Dean caught her under her elbow, pulling her into his side to stabilize her. She leaned into him for a moment, her body giving in to the feeling of bliss that came from his arm wrapped around her waist. But quickly, she straightened up and mumbled her thanks before rushing toward the gates.

This may have been a very bad idea.

***

"And the fire-eaters! Did you see them, Dean? I mean, they swallowed fire!" Dean chuckled as Y/N repeated her reverence for the fire-eaters, as she had at least a half a dozen times since seeing them that evening.

The circus had indeed been a lot of fun, much more fun for Dean because Y/N was clearly enjoying herself immensely. There had been acrobats, and jugglers, and a woman who walked on a tightrope. There were musicians and performers of all kinds. There were clowns and games to win prizes. In her purse Y/N carried a small bird made out of wool with real feathers sewn onto it. He had won it for her at a game of ring toss.

The day had sped by and Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed himself this much doing something that didn't involve whiskey, women, and cards.

Now he was walking her up the steps of the porch and he wanted nothing more than to extend the evening. So, he didn't go inside immediately, instead he lingered when they got to the front door and he was happy to see she did too.

Some of her elation from the day seemed to slip away and she was shy again. Ducking her head she said, "Thank you so much for taking me, Mr. Winchester. It was a lovely day."

"Mr. Winchester?" Dean said, a reprimand in his voice. "We're not back to that are we, Y/N?" He took a step closer hoping she wouldn't step back. She didn't.

He lowered his voice, almost to a whisper. "May I kiss you goodnight?" he asked, unable to hide the heat in his eyes as he raised her chin with his forefinger.

Her eyes widened. "Why?"

A smile came to his lips. "Because I want to. And, tell me if I'm wrong, but I think you might want me to as well."

"No." she said succinctly and he immediately took a step away from her.

"No." she said again, but grabbed his hand. She shook her head. "I mean, no I want you to."

He frowned, struggling to understand what she was trying to say. She exhaled roughly as though she was exasperated. And then she leaned up on tiptoe and pressed her lips softly and fleetingly against his.

When she pulled away her skin was so red, he could see her blush even in the moonlit shadows they stood in. “I'm so sorry.” She said, clearly flustered. “I shouldn't have done that. I don't know what came over me."

Dean’s grin was wicked. "I know what came over you, it's come over me too. Will you let me kiss you now? And show you?" His voice was husky with his desire and it took all he had not to lean forward, grab her, and crush her lips with his own.

"You already kissed me." Y/N said, confusion on her face. "You just did." It took Dean a moment to realize she was referring to the little light-as-air kiss she'd just given him.

He tried to curb his laughter. "Well, that was certainly sweet, but not the same as me kissing you."

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean? You just kissed me."

"No, you kissed me."

After a moment's contemplation, Y/N scoffed and looked at him suspiciously. "You kissing me, or me kissing you, it's the same thing. You're just trying to kiss me again."

Dean smiled. "You don't think there's a difference between you kissing me and me kissing you?"

She shook her head, her expression suspicious. "Of course not."

"Would you care to make a small wager on that?

"I don't gamble."

"Oh, this won't be for money. If, once I kiss you, you still think there's no difference, I will grant any request you make of me." Dean paused and heat flooded his hooded gaze. "And vice versa."

***

Y/N stood in the moonlight, staring up at her own ruin and she didn't even try to stop it. She nodded, agreeing to the wager.

Dean reached out and took her hand, shaking on the deal and then pulling her in close. Even in the semi-darkness his green eyes shone, jewel bright. He stood for a moment simply staring at her mouth. The hunger in his gaze made her shiver.

He took her chin in his fingers and leaned close to her, his mouth hovering over hers for what felt like an eternity.

"What are you…" Y/N was incapable of speech. Her heart beat so hard and fast she was sure it would soon burst. "Hurry up." She said, shaken completely.

Dean shook his head slowly. "No." His voice was deep and rough and he drew out the word, so it rumbled up from his chest.

When he was a hair's breadth away from her lips, she put her hands up between them, flat on his chest. The warmth of his skin through his shirt burned her palms.

"I concede." She blurted out. "It's different. It's not…this is different."

Dean's expression was pained. "Do you want me to walk away?"

The part of her mind that was desperately trying to preserve her sanity was screaming at her to say yes. But her body physically revolted at the thought of him moving away now and she shook her head.

"Thank God." He breathed against her lips before finally covering them in a kiss.

Dean's lips were soft and plump, but they pressed firmly against hers, and the pressure made her dizzy. She swayed slightly and Dean grasped her head in his two hands as he deepened the kiss.

She felt him sweep his tongue across her sealed lips, as though he was tasting her, and she gasped. He took advantage of the opening and swept his tongue inside. He tasted like the apple cider they'd drunk earlier; it was warm and spicy, and she reached her own tongue out to explore the taste further.

Dean groaned low in his throat, a sound that made all the hairs on her body stand up and gooseflesh race across her skin. His hands slipped from her head, down over her neck and shoulders. He slid them down to her waist and pulled her against him while he walked her backwards until they were up against the wall of the house.

He pressed his hard body into her, and moved his lips to her neck. Fire exploded along the path his lips had taken and Y/N was suddenly desperate to feel his mouth everywhere.

She was seconds away from asking him for exactly that, when a light went on in the house and they both froze. The light didn't spill onto them and it was extinguished fairly quickly, but it had been enough to bring Y/N to her senses. She stepped to the side, out of the circle of Dean's arms. She was instantly so cold she started to shiver.

She couldn't think what she could possibly say, so she simply rushed toward the entrance. But he caught up her hand just as she reached the door.

"What about my request? I won the bet, remember?"

He stepped up close behind her, wrapping his strong hands around her upper arms, and whispering in her ear. The low rumble caused the shivers to move inside her body so that her insides trembled.

"Come to me tomorrow night, at midnight. The household will be long asleep, but I'll be waiting for you."

He let go of her arms and she ran into the house as fast as she possibly could, before she could agree to the request or deny it. She had no idea which one it would be.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

Dean Fics Only:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

@waywardcheshire

@k-slla

@leigh70

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@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

[cybunii]

YOU NEEDED LOVE, I NEEDED YOU !!

a/n: i got sad and wrote this LOL but people wanted a part two to the other one so i hope this one is just as good !!

pairing: Leon kennedy x Gn!reader

cw: sad leon, maybe ooc?

-

Leon didn't like being alone after he met you. 

He clung to you as soon as he met you, doing everything in his power just to get an ounce of your attention. It's almost like a puppy begging their owner for treats or toys, he needed you, it was simple.

He’d walk to the ends of the earth for you, maybe even haunting you after death.

Even if he was cranky, or didn't understand the little things you did. He still loved you with every single piece of him, his heart belonged to you. 

And that was enough. 

Holidays have always been odd for him, his work never let him off around these days and he's so used to all of the stress that comes with the job. 

He felt almost empty, or maybe useless. 

He put that energy into almost everything he did with you, helping with baking and decorating. Even taking the time to decorate the outside of the house. It made him feel content, at least it made you happy. 

After helping you bake the first time, he was practically hooked. One bite of the desert you made and his fate was sealed, you had baked his heart and served it up for him to eat. 

He didn't think he minded that thought that much, maybe it was self-destructive or obsessive- But he would let you do anything to him, then again cannibalism always had weird hints of romance in those books he picked up. 

Decorating was fun at times, your pushy nature about how certain things needed to be done made you seem cute. 

He didn't understand the hype behind real christmas trees or specific ornaments on them, then again he didn't celebrate christmas growing up. Not that he never wanted to, but Santa and presents were off the table from a very young age. 

The way the ornaments lit up when the lights were plugged in was stunning. 

He decided that was his favorite part, well maybe one of them. Seeing your face break out into a smile once you stepped back from the finished tree may as well be burned into his memory. He wished he could've taken a picture.

-

He knew the holidays would be different this year, he was warned about a dangerous mission about a week ago, and the possibility of him coming back was less than none. 

He didn't like those odds. 

Not that he feared death or his job, but the first thing that came to mind was you. I mean he fought for you, secretly laid on his deathbed a few times, and thought of coming home to you later. 

He could never tell them no though, who was he to go against them? He was at their beck and call, a mindless robot who goes on missions and returns with less and less of his sanity intact. 

You weren't the jealous type, or at least he didn't think you were. He could handle you hating him, but he didn't want to feel the hatred at the moment, coming up with a desperate plan at the last second. 

He used Ada as an escape plan, thinking chasing after a woman on christmas would make you hate him, that way it was easier for him to leave. 

You didn't give a reaction, just staring at him with a blank expression. 

Every silent minute felt like hours, the seconds slowly shattering his heart the longer he stood there. Not like you knew that, he had been trained to keep a straight face, this was nothing.

-

He knew what nothing felt like when he left you. Leaving out the door with nothing to his name, no car, no clothes, and absolutely no money. Only a throwaway phone he used. 

He didn't want to look back at you, even if you showed no reaction, he didn't want to break down crying at the sight of your blank face. 

His only destination was the location they gave him, punching the place in and groaning when its hours away. 

He made it there the next day and to his surprise? 

They no longer needed him, the mission was a success by some other agent who was able to get there quicker and finish the job. They didn't know what he did to get there, and quickly ushered him out, saying they'll call if they ever needed him for something else. 

If leaving you didn't break him, knowing he could've come back to you absolutely crushed him. I mean even to the point of dry heavy sobs in some random hotel that he managed to get a room at, grabbing at the sheets as the tears ran down his red face. 

He never was the type to show his true emotions, always bottling them up until they turned to anger wasn't exactly the best thing for him to do. 

They always led to moments like these, a bottle exploding under the pressure and going everywhere, unable to be fixed or glued back together. 

It took him hours to stop crying, only because nothing else would come out anymore. 

His puffy eyes and disheveled hair made him frown, he never was one to look so pathetic, at least not in these situations.

He just wanted to lay somewhere, letting all of his emotions out and not having to do anything else. He never was the best type to be alone, his thoughts never made it easy.

-

He never did leave the state, coming back to your town with the promise of a small job at some weird office. Didn’t matter to him, it made decent money. 

He was observant of his surroundings at all times, his broken heart controlling his eyes as he walked the town, hoping to even see just a glimpse of you. 

He never did. 

He wondered if you had moved away. 

He hoped you didn't, with enough money he didn't mind going everywhere to find you. There's no limit to what he would've done to find you. 

There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think of you, or how sorry he was for leaving. He would look out the window at night just staring at the moon, hoping you were too, at least you'd be doing the same thing he was. 

That would be enough for him. 

With the extra money he had, he would just walk around the town for hours. Going to the most popular restaurants and parks. Supposedly those were fun things to do, but he knew he only went there because he went there with you. 

He couldn't even shop without thinking of you, buying the small snacks and not thinking about it until he got home, leaving them sitting in the cabinet for months because his mind tricked him you were still around. 

It was sad, and he knew that. 

It was heartbreaking to know christmas was next week. How had time slipped by him that fast?

He may not have had his own traditions, but he’d never forget what he did with you. Practically burning a hole in his wallet as he bought a real christmas tree, buying the same ornaments and lights, and every single ingredient for the stuff you baked. 

The finished tree never did look as pretty without your smile paired with it.

And the deserts tasted empty, it wasn't like they weren't good- But they could be so much better if you had made them. 

He had bought you something too. 

It may have been corny, and also pathetic- He seemed to like that word, being hard on himself had to be his favorite pastime at this point. 

But he bought you a ring, one you had pointed at on a random day saying you wanted it. It hadn't even been a week since you started dating when you said that, and he remembered it ever since. 

He was definitely using that memory for later. 

But now it sits under the bright, but also dull tree, the lights bouncing off the shiny wrapping paper. He dreamed of giving it to you, maybe even placing it in your mailbox with no return address. 

He decided that was creepy, a good call on his end.

He wasn't a stalker, maybe not in a bad way. 

That’s beside the point. 

He missed you that night, maybe more than any other night. His mind decided to be real nice to him that night, creating a dream of you being together again and being happy, celebrating christmas like old times. 

He may have woken up that next morning and bawled his eyes out, but that was okay.

It felt real to him. 

And that was enough for now. 

-

word count: 1.5k

[hypnos333]

I can’t help falling in love with you

Clarisse la rue x Black Nike reader

Synopsis: You are always wining in capture the flag and such but some of the kids in Artemis got sick of you winning

“Wise men say Only fools rush in But I can't help falling in love with you” You singed to yourself quietly watching the girl love fell in love with laugh with her sibling. Your siblings watched you with a smirk all Nike’s children are all full of victory and between a week they were all claimed.

You were no different with a gift from your mother of a gold leaf crown.

You were the most important to Nike, because you are her full breed. And her only full breed, that’s what her gift was made for you.

“___! Today’s capture the flag help me with my Armor sis. Please, Please, Please” Your younger brother begs making you look away from Clarisse before holding his hand as he leads you towards the Nike cabin to get ready. Without your knowledge though Clarisse stares at you with liking and interests before getting ready herself.

This time Nike is partnered with Ares which made you excited to work with Clarisse. Ares and Nike are allies in away both desperate in winning and take pride for they’re victory.

“Tell us the plan Victory” Clarisse teased making you roll your eyes before telling them the plan and that made Clarisse made interested in you then expect.

“I’ll have Clarisse back on the trees and for better view of the flag, good luck” You told everyone but pacifically to Clarisse as you looked at her in the eye before climbing the tree jumping roots to roots. As Clarisse run from below ahead of you. Everything was going great until you were shot down by an arrow someone shot making you fall on the ground harshly making you cry in pain as your back crack out of place.

“Well well well it seems we were right about you being in the trees to bad you accidentally fell” A Apollo kid states holding his bow and arrow out on you with three other of his siblings. As you continued crying in pain.

The kid kept on ranting until a punch was sent his way making blood spill and the kid was on the floor. You looked up to see Clarisse in a protective stance. “C-Clarisse we didn’t mean t-to right ___-“Shut up” she interrupted him before punching him countless of times. His siblings long ran away, and when she was finally done she carried you back to camp.

You continued the cry in pain as she tried to counsel you “Shhh I know I know we’re almost at the medical center” She said softly. and as she promised you did make it on time luckily a medic was there and gave you nectar to heal from your broken back.

Clarisse was there by your side every step of the way and when it was still too painful to walk she carried you on her back and you always thank her with a kiss of the cheek. She’ll always grab you lunch for you or even feed you but you weren’t that helpless.

Once you did get better, your life turned even more better the next day.

As you walked back to your cabin with your younger sibling you noticed clarisse on the porch with white roses. “Clarisse what are you doing here?” You asked as she handed you the flowers ignoring the question as you thanked her.

“I wanted to ask you out on a date” She mumbled out making you shock before smiling instantly.

“Of course I want to go on a date with you, I thought you’ll never ask” You said excitedly wrapping your arms around her as she had her hands on your hips. She watched as you rambled to her excitement making her lean you into a kiss.

You smiled in the kiss thinking how perfect this turned out as she couldn’t help but to fall in love with you.

[faellain]

The Accidental Baby Trap Incident

Summary: About four years after the events of First Class, Erik arrives at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters with two little twins who he didn't know existed. Thinking he doesn't know what to do, he runs to Charles, not knowing the state his old friend is in.

Snippet 3

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the next morning, erik tiredly takes the twins down to the kitchen, providing them a breakfast of orange juice, apple slices, and toast with butter. he drinks three cups of black coffee and eats a single apple slice. without him there, and with charles in a state, hank has forgone actual coffee for instant like a savage. it might as well be mud as far as erik is concerned.

"i hate toast," pietro tells him and briefly erik wonders how anyone could hate toasted bread.

erik sighs beleagueredly, "when i was young, i'd be grateful for any meal- wanda, do not turn your brother's toast into something else."

"yeah, i don't if i can do that again," she admits sheepishly, pulling the hand that was about to tap her brother's toast away, "i kinda don't know how i did it to the cookies."

"you're young. i didn't know how to master my own mutation till i was older and even then, sometimes i still needed help," erik assures her. wanda happily munches on her apples after that. pietro rolls his eyes.

he cleans up everything, wondering just how to start this day. it wasn't as if his children were full grown adults who he could toss into the danger room. he did not know where to begin training seven year olds. most mutants didn't even manifest until puberty... but his kids were early bloomers.

as he picks up breakfast, he hears footsteps coming around the corner. at first, he assumes it's hank. perhaps the other actually decided to emerge out of his lab at a reasonable hour. but hank walks with a heavy footstep from his mutation. these steps are light, stilted.

"oh!" he hears charles say, "well, uh, hello you two."

"you're the guy who punched dad!" laughs pietro, "you got 'im good!"

erik turns, "pietro-"

charles kneels down to speak with the children at eye level in their chairs, "he told me you have mutations of your own. what can you both do?"

"i run fast!" pietro exclaims before dashing out of his chair, leaving charles' hair whipping against his face. after a mere moment, he comes back with an empty glass which he offers to erik, "here, dad, you can wash this too."

"very impressive," charles tells him and pietro beams.

erik takes the glass as charles stares at it briefly before turning his attention back to the children. most likely it had come from his room. he turns and smiles at wanda.

"and you, little one?" he asks her.

"my powers are kinda funny," she admits, "i usually just use them to hold pietro in place or make things float when i get upset. but i turned snicker-whatevers into chocolate chip cookies yesterday."

finally, charles looks at erik, clear realization of just why erik has come to him finally dawning on him. pietro would grow to be an ordinary mutant, one who would need training and would excell, but not right away. wanda was like nothing they had ever seen before. charles turns back to her, nodding, and squeezing her little hands.

"that's very special. you both are," he tells her and then turns to pietro before moving back to look at both of them, "how about you two go and play in the yard? i have a tire swing out there you might like."

they both cheer and wanda looks at erik, "can we, papa?"

"go ahead. just don't go past the tree," he says. they promise, not that he trusts pietro to abide by that promise. but they both take each other's hands and dash off at wanda's speed.

charles stands, moving to make his own coffee, "they're lovely children… you never told me."

"i didn't know," erik replies, "magda didn't want my life for them."

"doesn't surprise me. vengenance, death of humanity and all that," charles murmurs as he pulls out a mug.

erik notices that he did shower at some point between their arguement and now. his hair lacks the grease and the smell has disappated in favor of the soap charles prefers. even years later, he could smell that soap and know charles was near.

"i don't understand her power," erik cuts to the chase, "i assumed she was telekinetic. and then one day she changed the color of her shirt by wishing it. and now the cookies."

"…you're scared of her," charles says, looking at him again. erik wants to die beneath that gaze.

"i'm scared of what others might do to her."

charles digs out one of the chocolate chip cookies from the pantry, erik resisting his desire to glibly remind charles that those are not a breakfast food. he sniffs it, stares at it before taking a bite and nodding in odd approval. at least his daughter didn't turn them into cookies that tasted bad.

"i suppose we shouldn't be surprised considering just how powerful her father is," charles says absently.

"perhaps only surpassed by a child of yours," hums erik, tiredly. imagning a child with equal or greater telepathic ability to charles is rather insane. he is perhaps the strongest telepath they know, even more powerful than emma.

charles laughs dismissevly, "that will never happen. i was careful before and i don't want one. i never did."

"you opened a school."

"yes. for school aged children with mutations like your children," he reminds erik, tone clipped as he stares at the coffee carafe filling up, "not babies. i shouldn't- it's one thing to teach children, it's another to raise them."

erik goes quiet. that he at least agrees with. at least he had a good example, but he knows a little about charles and raven's upbringing. mostly, frustratingly, from raven. charles knew everything about erik, yet charles hid his life, his pain from him constantly. even raven didn't speak much on their life outside of their inattentive mother who charles loved deeply anyway.

"hank invited me to stay the night after wanda changed the cookies," erik explains, quietly, too awkward. it's so strange to lack the helmet, but have charles in his arm's reach, yet not feel the other sharing his mind, knowing his thoughts. he would never let anyone else do that, "but we can leave."

charles shakes his head, "no. clearly we at least need to figure out what wanda's mutation is. do your- does raven know about them?"

"no," erik explains, "i haven't told any of them. to be honest, i've gone totally radio silent on them. i need to rectify that. give them some lie to keep them passive."

"you're the one who divided us," charles huffs, "it's not like they can tell you no. are you telling me you don't trust angel and raven with your kids?"

"i do," erik assures, "but we have other things on our plate. riptide is… missing. i had him investigating some possible mutants in vietnam and he's disappeared."

"disappeared?" reiterates charles, "should i be concerned? sean and alex were deployed early into this mess."

erik feels his heart speed up, "deployed?"

"sean got drafted," charles explains, "alex decided to enlist so he wouldn't have to go alone."

"and you let them just go? with the military?" erik snaps, "well, of course you did. you would. you and your peace."

"don't turn this into something it isn't," huffs charles, "i hadn't been taking the serum them. i asked sean if he wanted me to try and get him rejected. he told me no. they wouldn't be in any danger if you hadn't turned a million missiles on the government in cuba!"

"what you have always failed to see charles is that we were always in danger!"

charles turns on him rapidly, "not every human is the kind that hurt you."

"it is only a matter of time before they become them," erik snaps, leaving the dried dishes in a rack so he isn't tempted to throw them.

he can feel every knife in the shelf. their fields pull at him. the fridge feels like an atomic bomb, each little component awaiting his command. feeling the push and pull of the fields is his life, its his very nature. just as minds were charles'. but he's shut them out. where normally his feelings would be blaring loudly in charles' mind, he imagines himself as a giant black void to the former telepath.

how can it not be like losing a limb? then, of course, charles lost his legs. erik has lost so many things in his lifetime. his home, his safety, his parents, his autonomy… even charles himself. but he has never lost part of himself. even if they put him in a plastic cube, he could feel the push of magnets where the could not reach them.

"if that's true, then it is because you believe it so," charles replies, taking the carafe and pouring it into a mug.

instead of going for sugar or cream, charles grabs whiskey, angrily dumping it into the bitter drink. erik snatches it fromt he counter.

"i think you have had enough," erik tells him before dumping the entire mug down the drain.

"erik! goddamn you!" charles growls, shoving him almost childishly. his punch had been lucky and he never really had the stomach for true violence.

he takes charles' wrists, holding them tightly as he glares, "i said i think you've had enough."

"you do not get to waltz in here and pretend like we're still friends," charles writhes his wrists angrily, "you stopped being the erik i knew the minute you killed shaw!"

"shaw had to die!" erik replies, baring his teeth. sean had once teased him for his smile being shark-like, but he certainly feels it now. he feels like an angry animal with prey between its jaws, "you will never understand! do you think an absent mother compares at all to things he did to me?!"

charles attempts to kick him in the knee, but erik is stronger and while he doesn't let go, he does fall forward, pressing himself against charles and the counter. as he goes to start shouting again, he notices charles is shaking. he does not look like a frightened doe as one might expect from a doe-eyed man.

instead, he is defiant. there is fear in his eyes, something old, something that has nothing to do with erik. but in the face of erik's anger, charles does not waiver. his body betrays him, but he holds a brave face, a stalwart indignation like an immovable ship, anchored to a seafloor.

the first time erik had kissed charles, they had been sharing a bed as they went to meet sean. all of the two-bed rooms had been booked which left them with either one of them on the floor or both in the bed. originally, erik had planned to take the floor, but charles had pulled him up into the bed.

"you don't think about me the way most people do," charles whispered, the only light coming the street lamps flickering outside, "i don't mean to pry. i can't help it sometimes."

"what do you mean?"

charles smiled softly, rolling his eyes, "you'd think it very silly i imagine. but you always think my eyes are a different shade of blue. it's like you can't decide how to describe them. but you notice them when you think i'm being particularly clever."

erik had blushed, his very obvious feelings being laid bare by the telepath in bed with him. he had admired charles from the minute they had met. how could he not admire the first man to tell him he wasn't alone? the man who had saved his life?

"it helps that you are usually particularly clever when you're not being particularly foolish," erik managed to reply.

this time charles blushed, looking away. his teeth pierced those already pretty red lips slightly. oh. that bastard. he knew what he was doing.

"are you going to do anything about it if i am?" charles asked, apparently not realizing he was reading erik's thoughts. or, if he did, he clearly did not care.

they were so young then. their powers still felt so fresh and untrained, even when they had more control than most. a few items shuddered at that moment when erik did.

ignoring them, he ran a hand up charles' neck to cup his cheek, "i think i'm going to kiss you."

"oh, i very much hope you do."

kissing charles xavier had been so soft. both of them had considered sex that night, but had instead enjoyed the gift of exploring the other's mouth. later, erik would realize charles had been hoping for this because he tasted particularly like gum. he had pressed kisses along soft lips, nipped until charles' lips were swollen, they had gone for each other until both were breathless.

charles had let out soft little gasps and moans. erik had worshipped his lips, his cheeks, his neck. they were like two demigods, entangled, high priests of the other's temple. erik had wanted to devour charles whole. he'd been smooth, kind, gentle, but mischevious. that moment was a fairytale.

this is not like that.

this was a nightmare. from the minute erik's teeth had clicked against charles' own, he knew that it was. there was none of their old kindness to be had. erik hated charles' scratchy beard. he hated that charles clearly no longer knew what he wanted, instead fighting for dominance of the kiss. erik had at first pulled away only for charles to pull him back, bruise his lips, bite his tongue.

erik presses charles back harder, taking back his tongue and shoving it down charles' throat. he wants to choke him with it, he wants to make sure he can't breathe. their teeth click again when charles mirrors the tilt of his head as they both try to deepen the kiss.

did charles want to suffocate as much as erik hopes to do so?

erik pulls back when charles' breath doesn't stop despite that, tugs fiercely on his lip with his teeth. those paled lips look almost back to their former glory, but he even such ferocity has not revived their blushed hues.

"i hate you," charles whispers, voice cracking, bitter, "i hate you."

"the feeling, old friend," erik snaps mockingly, "is mututal."

they dive back in anyway, charles finally breaking a hand free to claw down erik's back. nail marks redden beneath erik's shirt. the action also earns him a hardening in erik's pants, making him smirk against the larger man's lips. instead of giving him what he's asking for, erik wraps a hand around charles' throat.

"if i did not need you," he snarls before trailing off, "do you know how easy it would be?"

it would not be easy. erik isn't even pressing down against charles' neck. all he is doing is holding it, the grip barely there. but- but it changes something in charles' expression. the fear that had disappeated returns. suddenly nails claw at his hand.

"let go, erik, let go."

"i thought you hated me. didn't you expect this?" asks erik, voice mournful as it settles in once again that charles simply does not know what he thinking. how he could never hurt charles like that again.

"please," charles suddenly begs, voice desperate, "please, erik, let me go."

erik backs away like he's been burned, charles turning quickly on his heels as he gasps for air as if erik had been truly choking him. he's running as best that his legs, still stilted, still obviously not walking the way humans with functional spines walk, can take him. without meaning to, he shoves past hank who has finally emerged for breakfast.

hank looks at erik, "what the fuck did you do?"

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Short story with teenage Casper protecting Charlie from bullies- (I live for childhood content of these two)

Teenage dirt bags!

Charlie wasn't a very happy camper. This morning he woke up late and couldn't eat breakfast. The blonde even missed the fucking bus and had to run to school. So his morning wasn't so good right now.

"Oh look! It's the scrawny fuck." Mocking, a loud voice was heard through the hall. The few people in it to go to their next class were looking at Jacob MacQuoid, one of the many jocks in the school. This made the few people left rush away not wanting to get involved in this.

"You look like a fucking skeleton!! What your so poor you can't buy food to eat?" Another more annoying voice was heard. Brock Sallow, a friend of Jacob stepped by the curly haired boy, who was looking down at the shorter boy.

Charlie sighed as he held his backpack straps, he really didn't want to deal with these two right now. Opening his mouth to say something he was shoved into a locker. Brock was holding him against the hard metal, it gave Charlie goosebumps how cold it was while Jacob leaned down.

"You know, when's the last time we hurt you?....Oh yeah, a few months ago because like a rat..." Spitting out the insult, Jacob punched Charlie's stomach, causing him to groan at how hard it was. "...You snitched to your stupid bitch of a friend! I had a black eye for a week!" Growling out the curly haired boy scowled at Charlie.

Brock snorted at what his friend said and got smacked upside the head, causing him to let go of Charlie. Who, took this opportunity to scurry behind who hit Brock, sighing in relief seeing Casper with a death glare.

"What? Wanna another one MacQuoid? That can be arranged meathead!" Speaking harshly. Casper then looked at Charlie, how he was holding his stomach and turned to Jacob. "I'm going to fuck you up!"

Shooting forward Casper sucker punched the jock, causing the curly haired boy to stagger back. Nursing his now bruised cheek and glared at Casper, Brock tried to grab them from behind but charlie was opening his backpack and grabbed a textbook out.

"Fuck you!" Shouting loudly, making Brock turn and get knocked out. Charlie help the textbook high in case Brock got up again, but the black haired boy was knocked out.

"Ouch! That gotta hurt." Snorting Casper laughed seeing the other jock on the floor. Jacob huffed angrily seeing his duo out, using Casper turned a bit form him swung his arm and punched the left side of their face.

"FUCKING BITCH!" Screaming at them, Jacob saw Casper about to stand but then a shrill voice was heard.

"JACOB MACQUOID!? WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING?!" All three snapped their head's behind Charlie. The blonde thanked what ever God's above that Mrs. Willows was the one roaming the halls today.

"I-I was just um-" Scrambling to make an excuse, Jacob was hushed by Mrs. Willows.

"No! We are going to the principal's office now! All tree of you! Oh my god is that Brock on the floor?!" The older woman gasped seeing him knocked out. Then saw Charlie, the blonde cursed in his head for not putting the text book away.

And now here they are, in the nurse's office watching the two jocks get yelled at. Casper has a ice pack on their face glaring at Jacob, who was doing the same thing to them. Charlie was given ibuprofen for the pain and was told to lay down while his mother gets contacted.

"When has this school EVER tolerated bullying for you to think you could beat up someone?!" Sternly saying the principal Mr. Gridlock scowled at the boys. Brock was looking down and Jacob finally turned his head to the older man.

"We were just pl-" The white lie couldn't fix this. Mr. Gridlock held up a hand and looked a the nurse.

"Contact Mr. MacQuoid and Mr. Sallow's parent's. They will be suspended for five days." Those words sealed a coffin as the two jocks tried to say there was a game tomorrow and they needed to be there.

"You should have thought about that when you decided to bully Charlie. Now we're going to a different room, come." Escorting the boys out after getting their treatment, the other two int he nurse's office looked at each other. There was silence besides the nurse typing away calling the parent's.

"Wow, they actually got in trouble. Good, fuckers deserve it. Wonder if I can get my dad to convince coach to kick them off- OOF-" Casper's words were cut off by Charlie hugging them. They looked at him and smiled before returning it.

"Your so cool Casper. Thanks for always being there." Whispering Charlie felt Casper ruffle his hair. Looking up his heart skipped a beat seeing their smile.

"Duh stupid, your my friend." Casper laughed lightly as they turned their head. Also my crush....Shaking their head slightly Casper looked at the clock and then the nurse. "Mrs. Astor can we leave? The bell's gonna ring."

Turning around the nurse nodded at them and both left quickly. Leaving the main office Casper smiled at Charlie then rushed off to the left. Charlie stood there, looking as Casper rushed to their next class across campus. He really wishes he could have told them he loved them right there.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 7: Help the Bear

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: “If you ever see me fighting in the forest with a grizzly bear, help the bear, cuz that bitch gon’ need it.” Usually, you’d say this phrase describes you. You’re tough, and your enemies are the bear, but you might be more fragile than it seems. You might have to put aside some of your issues for the night, in favor of helping a friend.

Word count: 6,722

Content/warnings: Swears, punching, anger, deception, mob themes, crying, yelling, broken promises, mood swings, pet and nicknames, nice Bucky???, everyone lowkey walking on eggshells around decks, high stress, kidnapping, a bar fight, mentions of knives, misogyny

Author’s Note: I feel like this is a long awaited climax which lines up with Ch. 10 of YCMBWH and Ch. 3 of Handiwork. Anyway, I’m very excited for you to read it. I’d appreciate your feedback in all forms!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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It was early Saturday morning when you stood outside of your apartment building, waiting for Gio to pick you up like you had instructed Steve. He’d sent you several calls and texts since, but you stayed radio silent, until finally, it all stopped. You didn’t have doubt, though, that he’d come through, and you wouldn’t have to drive that distance in your current state. The chance of a crash was far too high. Hm, maybe you should’ve taken Steve’s car then. No, no, you weren’t that mean. You shamed yourself for even having the thought.

The sky was full of nice shades of pink, orange, and purple, the air lacking the humidity that usually came with the rising sun. It was the rainy season, and had been for the last month, but for some reason, the conditions seemed almost drought-like, since Tuesday. How uncharacteristic.

You were pulled from your thoughts by a black SUV pulling up in front of your building, and tried to squint to see who was in the driver’s seat. You had only seen Gio once before, so you assumed it was him by the dark hair you could just barely make out through the tinted window. Good, that meant it wasn’t Steve, even though the vehicle had an eerie resemblance to his. The trunk popped open and you threw your bag in. You weren’t going to be there long, anyway. All you had packed was a change of clothes for the game tonight, pajamas, and clothes for when you left in the morning. Simple as that, and it meant you could wear whatever you wanted right now, which was the comfiest thing you had: sweatpants and your old hoodie, despite the uncharacteristically warm weather.

You closed the trunk and hopped into the back seat, barely having the time to get buckled as the car lurched forward and started on its way out of the city. You looked through the window at the passing buildings as they turned into trees, on the route that was becoming familiar once again.

Bucky grumbled as he tossed and turned in his oversized leather desk chair, arising from the short sleep he had found there after a late night of business dealings designed to be front loaded for him to have this weekend open. He moved to stand, only for his feet to be met by something soft, that was definitely not the hardwood floors, under his loafers.

“Ah, fuck! Steve? What are you doing down there? Why didn’t you fall asleep on the couch, like a normal person?”

Steve groaned, rolling over just enough to look at his best friend above him. “Couch is too comfy. Floor keeps me on edge, just barely asleep. I deserve that. And now I’m up so we can go immediately. You’re welcome, I did this for you and your future wife.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and stepped over the lump of blond and muscle on the floor, creeping towards Sam, who actually was on the couch, while grumbling, “We don’t know if she’s my future wife. We hardly have a label.”

Bucky flicked Sam’s ear for him to rise, met with an, “ow! I’ve been up since you have, boss man!”

Bucky rolled his eyes again, walking over to the closet in the corner of his home office and grabbing his and Steve’s go bags that they had packed the night before.

“Okay, we’ve gotta get there soon. Sam, you still good with holding down the fort here?”

Sam nodded, having sat up fully, unlike Steve, who was still laying on the floor, face down. “Yeah, although, I’m not sure about our buddy over there. Stevie, rise and shine,” he sang out softly.

Steve stood after taking a sharp, deep breath, his eyes red and face puffy just barely, that it looked like allergies from sleeping on the floor. “Okay, I’ll drive my car, and Bucky, you’ve gotta go get Decks.”

Bucky stopped all movement, going still as a statue from where he was double checking the contents of his bag, before turning around slowly. “I’m sorry, what? You want me to go pick up Decks? No. Your girl, you pick her up.”

Steve’s head dropped as Sam let out an audible wince at the whole thing, before explaining, since he knew Steve had very little desire to be verbal right now. “Boss, Decks hasn’t talked to Steve since Tuesday. Steve can’t go pick her up, I think it’ll just make her more mad. And look at him,” he gestured to Steve, hair in a mess and head still pointing towards the floor as he rubbed his eyes, “poor puppy is gonna be broken if he has to see her this early in the morning. She’s gonna eat him alive. At least you’ve got Honey waiting for you on the other side. Steve sure as hell doesn’t.”

The help from Sam had morphed into something a little hurtful, albeit true, but Bucky still huffed. “If Decks doesn’t want to see you, why’d she agree to a ride from us?”

Steve shook his head, finally looking up. “She didn’t. She agreed to a ride from Gio, who’s in Italy currently because you were trying to be a nice boss, or whatever. So you’ve gotta drive her.”

In an instant, Bucky’s features grew soft. He switched from boss mode to friend mode. “Okay, okay. Just…get going so you can start talking strategy with Bee and Peter early. I’ll pick up Decks and meet you there.”

Steve gave a short, grateful nod and grabbed his bag, heading out.

So Bucky found himself driving you like a chauffeur out to the farm as the early morning sun was lighting up the landscape. He was used to being up this early, and he was sure you were, too, but just in case, he’d brought some breakfast.

Once he’d gotten far enough from the city that he knew you wouldn’t try and escape once he revealed himself, he rolled down the partition. He could see you curled up in the corner of the backseat, almost cuddling, clinging to the hoodie you were wearing. It was all too familiar, as Bucky knew Bee had the same one, but the last time he had seen one of them was that time he was at your apartment and Steve had worn it. And that’s when Bucky caught a whiff. Unmistakable with how often he was around it. Steve’s cologne. The corner of his lip upturned slightly. Maybe there was still a chance for the two of you.

You were pulled from your daydream by the sound of the partition lowering, but didn’t move your gaze from the passing scenery. Maybe Gio was going to ask you if you needed a bathroom break in the long drive, or to make sure the air flow and temperature were alright, but you were surprised when you heard the voice in front of you.

It was deep, and a little familiar. “So, uh… you want a croissant?”

It was Bucky. You watched as he fished around in the passenger seat, grabbing a bakery box and handing it back to you, shaking it as a signal when you hadn’t grabbed it after a few seconds. You pulled it into your lap before looking into the rear view mirror and catching his slate eyes, watching you expectantly, yet cautiously, for a response.

You looked at the label on the box. It was a French bakery. One you’d never heard of before, especially not from the list of businesses Steve had rattled off to you when you asked what all he owned. Good.

You spoke up softly, not one much for words so early in the morning. “So’s this place yours?”

Bucky looked between your image in the mirror and the road, trying to figure out what you were referencing. “The bakery? Yeah, one of many places. And one of my favorites. Try the chocolate croissant if you haven’t had breakfast yet. It’s good.”

You nodded, sighing and gingerly opening the lid to be met by one of the best smells probably ever. You carefully pulled out a chocolate croissant and took a bite, holding in a moan at the deliciousness, but Bucky could see the enjoyment on your face, no matter how brief, due to the overwhelming weight of today sitting on your shoulders.

“Told you.”

You simply hummed in response, setting down the pastry and waiting to swallow to speak up.

“So, Bucket. I thought Gio was supposed to pick me up, but it looks like Steve lied again. Why you? Don’t you have better shit to be in charge of?”

Bucky was changing highways, so he kept his eyes on the road. He had half a mind to defend his best friend, but he didn’t want to open up that can of worms when you still had a couple hours of driving left. Plus, he knew it went farther than that, and it wasn’t technically his fight. Touching on your self-deprecation probably wasn’t a good idea, either. He’d leave that to Honeybee, much better versed in seeing you like this, he assumed. But from what he could tell, this seemed far from your normal self-assured, resigned state that he quite appreciated. He opted to comment on the dissection of your sentence that mainly had to do with him. That was probably a good domain to stay within for now. “You don’t have to call me that, y’know.”

You took another bite and shrugged. “What am I supposed to call you, then? James?”

“Bucky is fine.”

You let out a dry laugh. “No, that’s weird, what are you, a hick? -wait, actually, no. Forget I said that.”

Definitely not a good idea to make a distasteful joke such as that with where you both were going right now.

You shook your head looking down at the box. “But you still didn’t answer my first question.”

Bucky spun the wheel around the clover leaf and effortlessly merged on the open roads. “Gio’s on vacation in Italy, so you’re stuck with me. But don’t worry, Steve’s already on the road ahead of us.”

Well, he did what you asked, but you left his answer unacknowledged, besides a huff as you set the box aside. So much for trying to tread lightly.

“What? Decks, sweetheart, are you mad at me for bringing up Steve?” You crossed your arms and legs, glaring at Bucky and hoping it would set him on fire, sadly unsuccessfully, through the mirror. It was a good thing you weren’t a witch, anyway, though, because Bee would’ve killed you if it had worked.

“Ugh! What is up with that!? Everyone calling me ‘sweetheart?’ You, Sam, Steve! I’m not some little token helpless woman.”

Bucky opened his mouth defensively to reply, before closing it and furrowing his brows in thought at your full statement. “Wait a second, Steve called you ‘sweetheart?’”

You rolled your eyes yet again, and decided you weren’t done with that croissant quite yet, so you grabbed the box from your side and took another bite, not bothering to swallow this time before talking with your mouth full. “Yeah, like a few times, and then Sam did when he drove me home, and you did just now. What’s the deal?”

Bucky wished you weren’t sitting directly behind him, because he would’ve fully turned to look you in the eyes for this. He didn’t realize how serious it all was between the two of you, but he should’ve, considering how enamored he was, too, with his own girl. Obviously Steve was capable of the same thing.

“Swee- Decks. For Sam and I, that’s just how we were raised. I mean, Steve was raised the same way, but…” He stopped to think for a second so it came out the right way.

“Sure, you’re right, ‘sweetheart’ is a term of endearment for anyone in our community. Any guy will call pretty much any woman that, but not Steve. Ever since we were young, he refused. Said he was saving it. That it deserved to be used for someone really special. Someone with the sweetest heart. At least for him.”

You scoffed and questioningly shook your head. “Bucket, that is not me.”

He shrugged once again. “Maybe. And maybe that’s what you try to show, but to him it is. That’s you. He doesn’t take those things lightly.”

You grumbled, taking the last bite and licking your fingers before Bucky handed you a napkin. “I had it under control.”

He smirked, catching another whiff of Steve’s cologne when your arm reached up towards him. “Sure, ya did. Hey, when’s the last time you washed that hoodie? Surprised you wouldn’t wanna use that old thing as a napkin,” he said in a playful tone, laughter almost emerging from his voice.

Evidently you didn’t want to wash it. You wanted to keep it clean, let it have this scent as long as possible. After you crumbled the napkin, you threw it up towards him in the front seat before pulling your hood up.

Bucky swerved slightly, but not enough to cause concern. “Hey, watch it. I’m in charge of your safety up here. I’ve gotta deliver us both unharmed. It’s paramount.”

You’d just about had enough of this oddly chipper attitude from him. Bucky was very obviously excited to see Bee again and you couldn’t blame him. Their relationship was honest from the start. The small tinge of normalcy you’d had for a second started to wear off again, though, as that weight began to sink back onto your shoulders. You pulled your hoodie strings tight around your face, letting the smell and the comfort fully engulf you, and hoping to catch just a little more sleep before the long day ahead.

“Okay, whatever. Fuck off, Bucket.”

When you pulled up to the farm, you were gently shaken awake by someone who had climbed in the back seat with you so that they didn’t open the door you were leaning against and make you fall out. When your eyes fluttered open, though, you were met with a face you hardly recognized, causing you to spring into action and punch him right in the nose, not that hard, but also not that lightly.

The young man in flannel in front of you clattered into the back of the passenger seat, holding his nose, when you finally recognized him. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! You’re that kid who works for Bucky. Are you okay?”

He nodded, backing away and out the other side of the vehicle, scrambling to get away quickly, not sure if you’d hit him again, just based off association. “Yeah, yeah, all good.”

You could hardly hear him, voice fading as he ran into the house.

You took his words at face value, finally reorienting yourself to where you were now, seeing the green and gold landscapes and red barns outside your window. Right. Bee’s farm. For the bet. With the mob bosses. Gone was your concern as your angry face, or really more of an attempt of a flat affect came back.

You slid across the back seat, empty of the bakery box that was once there, and moved to get out of the door that was left open. When you emerged, you were met with the sight of Bee and Cherry picking through the pastries you had left behind, their nervously smiling faces lit up by the mid morning sun.

“Decks! Good morning! It’s so good to see you.”

Bee gave you a side hug you didn’t return and Cherry gave you a little wave before giving Curtis a little bite of her croissant. Gross.

Curtis thanked her with a kiss on the cheek before coming over to you and giving a bear hug, despite the way you tried to push him off. Eventually, you relented, relaxing in his hold, that of a long-time, good friend. He rubbed his hand against the top of your hood, messing up the hair underneath, before returning to Cherry’s side, grabbing his own pastry out of the box.

A small “hi” was all you could muster up to use to greet the three of them, but it was enough. You pointed over your shoulder to indicate you were going to grab your bag from the trunk, finally pulling the hood off your head and turning around. When you pivoted, though, you were only met with Steve there, your bag over his shoulder like it had been so many times before, his glassy eyes taking you in.

His voice was small and scratchy like you’d never heard it before, like he’d been silent for weeks, as he mustered up a, “Hey, Decks.”

You promptly spun back around and stomped into the farm house and up the steps, passing Bucky on the way to your usual room. When you opened the door, though, you were met with the sight of a young man sitting on your bed, ice against his face and a jolt when he saw you bust in.

“Uh, hi Miss Decks. Can I help you?” You groaned at the weird formality, but were in no mood for something like this to throw you off on such an important day.

“Yeah. You can get out of my room. You’re gonna share the other spare with Steve. No questions, okay?”

He simply nodded, beginning to grab his stuff as you stripped the bed of its sheets. He was actually complying very nicely, so you felt bad for being so assertive with him…and punching him in the face.

“So what’s your name and what’s your job?”

He stopped and looked at you, confusion and fear riddling his face. “I-I’m Peter, miss. I was assigned to stay here to help with shipments and watching over miss Honeybee. I just go wherever they say. Sometimes do tech, sometimes intelligence. Really anything.”

You nodded and hummed, pulling a new set of bedding out of the top of the closet. “So what exactly does that make you, Peter? Fourth in command?”

He cocked his head to the side, zipping up a bag, before helping you put on the new sheets. “I guess I never thought about that, but no. Technically I think I’d be fifth at least.”

You nodded along, grateful for the acquiescence that seemed to run through this organization and his kindness you were evidently not returning. With all the stress, though, you didn’t even really have the time to wonder who was number four. He finished gathering everything in his arms and sprinted out the door, across the hall to Steve’s room, before realizing there were three guest rooms and he might be able to take the last one, depending on where Bucky planned to stay. Out of indecision, he just dropped everything at the end of the hallway and went back downstairs, leaving you to lay over the comforter in contemplation. Peace wasn’t something that would come to you today.

It was early afternoon when Cherry finally came up to find you, not the person you would’ve expected to do so. She knocked on your door with a sweet smile.

“Hey, Decks. I know you’re probably in game mode, but Bee thought it might be a good idea for you to come over to my place. We can pick you out a nice outfit for tonight. Eat something, maybe? It’s my understanding you haven’t had anything since early this morning and apparently, from what I’ve been told, ‘the good stuff’ is waiting for you at my apartment. And it’s no boys allowed for this afternoon. You get to do whatever you need to get in the zone without distraction. How does that sound?”

You groaned before you nodded, launching yourself up out of the bed quickly to a seated position. “Yeah…that’s good. I mean, I already have an outfit, but that’ll be good. Let me just hit the bathroom real quick and I’ll meet you in the driveway, okay?”

She nodded with another soft smile and went back down the steps.

Soon after she was gone and you’d gathered what you needed, not even bothering to consider how your bag had made it to the corner by the doorway of your room, you shuffled over to the bathroom in your socked feet and washed your face. When you were all dry, you looked at your reflection in the mirror. It was you, but it was different. Not unrecognizable, but maybe barely.

Exhaustion laced your features. Dark bags had settled under your eyes from the lack of sleep. You were in a perpetual state of puffiness from all the crying you’d kept to yourself, yet everything just looked…sunken. Like, saggy with sadness. You smiled, trying to boost your mood, make it feel like you weren’t going through hell. Trying to put on a brave face for your friend and her world. Everything this whole week was a lot, and as much as you were trying to ice out the terror, you could feel it seeping through the cracks. One final smile and one final wipe of your nose, and you were ready to go, galloping down the staircase and out to Bee’s truck where she was already waiting for you. You slid up in the seat, squeezing Cherry between the two of you, and went on your way towards town.

When you got to Cherry’s apartment, there were bowls of pasta sitting on her small dining room table that must’ve been for you. Ah yes, that was probably ‘the good stuff’ she was referring to. Cherry immediately went to the kitchen to grab bowls and utensils, handing them to you and Bee, as you took in the scent of the the still-steaming arrangement.

Despite your feelings toward everything Steve lately, the gesture and nostalgia still warmed you. The three of you sat, as you savored every bite in silence, Bee and Cherry holding soft conversation on the side and respecting your wishes until the meal was done and you felt just a little bit better. A little bet fuller in your heart and your stomach.

You didn’t have to worry as Bee and Cherry assured you that they’d clean everything up, directing you towards the bedroom where you’d found something else sitting there, waiting for you to find it. It was a record player, just like the one in your apartment. The one you’d promised Steve you’d play the song on before you’d fallen asleep to that old movie. And next to it was a stack of vinyls, some you recognized as the same as your collection, plus some new ones you’d mentioned you liked before, but never got the chance to acquire. On the stack was a small sticky note that said:

“You got this, Decky. -SR”

You couldn’t help the way a smile crept onto your face at his thoughtfulness. Sure, you were mad at him, but this was far from a cheap gesture. It was just what you needed to fully lock in, and maybe raise your spirits to get through tonight and do this for someone besides yourself. You put on a record, mood brightening by the minute, and began swaying through the room until Cherry and Bee came in to meet you.

Their faces lit up seeing your slightly improved mood, this moment acting like a brief reprieve from a day constantly growing in intensity. The two of them began rifling through the closet, pulling out a bunch of outfits for you to try, and throwing them into a pile on the bed. At least you had your music.

When Cherry’s shift at the bar was set to start, the three of you drove over, you wearing a short, flouncy tennis dress that was far from what you were used to. The clothes you had packed for this evening were just jeans and a tee, but according to your friend, that wasn’t good enough, so here you found yourself in something completely out of character. At least it had shorts underneath.

You were about an hour early for the match, but the bar was already buzzing with patrons. As Cherry went to clock in, you could see the group of guys already sitting in the booth, talking in hushed whispers until you and Bee approached. Bee instantly gravitated towards Bucky’s lap with a kiss, and you were going to sit next to Curtis, but he stood up, passing you with a nod and heading straight for the bar with Cherry. So much for having a buffer.

You were left to sit next to Steve, your already nervous state making you shake and avoid eye contact, whether you wanted to or not. Bucky sat up, saying something about checking with guards and Bee followed him, leaving the two of you alone, sitting too close for how much room the booth had now gained.

You took in a shuddering breath, looking around the crowded room, seeing the pool tables and envisioning the event that was about to go down. You felt so isolated in that moment, before you felt a large, warm hand on your thigh.

“Decks, sweetheart. You there? You alright?” You looked up and to your side at Steve, the seclusion of the tall seats allowing him to be the only one who could see the tears in your eyes. Here you were, all dolled up at the hands of Cherry, about to ruin it, but that was the least of your worries. The pressure was about to crash over you and Steve needed to seal those dam walls before a flood broke out.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Why don’t you and me take a second to go into the break room or something? We have the time.”

You simply nodded and scooted out of the booth. Steve grabbed the hat off the top of his head, placing it on yours to hide your distraught face from any possible prying eyes before grabbing your hand and rushing the two of you across the dance floor.

He’d seen most of your range of emotions. He’d seen you playful, he’d seen you focused, he’d seen you happy, he’d never get enough of that, he’d seen you mad, probably more than enough for a lifetime, but he’d never seen you quite like this, with tears threatening to spill over.

Before you knew it, you were on an old couch in a back room you had never seen before, crying into Steve’s chest as he held you closely, hand rubbing your back, and shushing you gently.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You got this. Hey, look at me. You can do it.”

You pulled your hands up to wipe your eyes as Steve searched the room to find you tissues, dabbing away the wetness as you sniffled.

“Tell me what’s going on, sweetheart. What can I do to help? What’s on your mind?”

You tried to speak, but you were gasping for air. The farthest thing from your mind was anger at him, or the pet name. You just wanted comfort. Steve began demonstrating deep breaths in front of you, helping you to calm down until it worked. He started to blow a cool stream of air towards your face, drying more of the wetness, and rubbing his large, warm hands up your arms, redirecting your focus to the gestures. Finally you were almost fully settled and ready to talk.

“I’m just so…scared. Sure, I’ve dealt with things that were high-stress before, but never with this high of stakes. I didn’t ask to be dragged into all of this, but now the whole mess hinges on me. This entire thing. Legitimate lives are riding on me. That’s a lot.”

Steve nodded along. He got it. This was hard, and it was a lot of pressure, especially since it all came crashing towards you at once. He wished there was something he could do to fix it, to take some of that off of you, but he couldn’t. He felt like he was the reason it was all hitting so hard in the first place. All he could do was try and keep you pumped up, and ready to go for tonight. He knew you had a game face, maybe he could help you put that on so you could beat these pricks once and for all. Maybe that would be enough for him. He knew you were giving him a chance, just for tonight because Bee was mostly what mattered, and he was going to make the most of that opportunity while it lasted.

He ran his hand over your hair, pulling you close one last time and planting a kiss to your hairline before sighing and slapping his hands on his knees to get up.

“Alright, up we go. C’mon.” He held out his hand for you, but all you did was sit there and look at him confused.

“Unfortunately, you don’t have all night, Decky. Stand, or I’m dragging you.”

You must not have moved fast enough, because before you knew it, your floppy body had been pulled to its feet and Steve was slowly manipulating each part. He kicked your one foot back, widening your stance, and bent each arm, curling your fingers into fists. He moved in front of you, holding up his hands, flat and open, just like boxing practice. He bounced between his feet on the ground, shifting back and forth.

“Alright, go for it. Let’s see what you got.” You huffed, landing a weak punch against his palm, and Steve laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think so. Let’s go, Decks. I know you’re better than that. Harder. Get angry.”

And you did, you punched harder, you punched faster, and you were relentless, raging in a rain of fists, jitters long gone and replaced with a fire of fury. Fuck Cole. And fuck Lloyd. And fuck this whole fucked up mess of misogyny that threatened the livelihood of an innocent woman.

Steve grabbed your fists, snapping you out of it as you stood there, chest rising and falling with deep breaths. “There it is. Use that.” He looked at you intently, imploring you to be yourself, the confident, driven, capable woman he knew. You were back, if only for a few hours, but that was all he needed.

You settled yourself with a single breath, hands falling to your sides after you smoothed your dress and grabbed Steve’s hat back off where it had fallen onto the couch when you threw your head at his chest. You stood there with your eyes closed for a second. “Steven, do I still look okay? Bee said I have to look hot to distract these pieces of shit, and I’d hate to know that I’ve got a hair out of place. Please fix it before I go back out there.”

Steve smiled, just a little one he knew you couldn’t see, as he took a walk around you, tugging down the back of your dress and gently combing his fingers through your hair, taking his thumbs to swipe over your cheeks and fix the slight run of makeup from your tears. He gently grabbed the hat out of your tight clutch, playing with the brim. “You, uh…you want my hat? Would that make you feel better? Preserve an air of mystery and make you not have to look directly at the ‘pieces of shit?’”

You revealed a small, soft smile he thought he’d never see again and nodded, opening your eyes as he placed it back on your head, straightening it just so. He smiled just as sweetly when he saw you, actually saw you for the first time in awhile. Then, you weren’t sure what was happening as he squatted down in front of you, closing his eyes just like you had before.

“Okay, now it’s your turn to fix my hair before we go back out there. You messed it up when I gave you my hat.”

You strutted back out into the bar, face stoic, and stride powerful, your skirt flowing from the speed. Steve was a few steps behind you, surveying the area to see Bucky and Bee had returned, chatting with two men by the pool table.

You clocked them as well, not recognizing the two, but seeing one in an oddly crisp brown jacket, common for the area, but usually more beaten up on the folk around here, and the other in a knitted, collared shirt, nose pronounced by the neatly trimmed mustache underneath. Far too fancy for a place like this. These must be the men.

You walked up to Bee’s side, noticing her tight-lipped smile. “Decks, this is Cole, and this is Lloyd. He’ll be playing against you.”

You simply nodded, taking a step back. These men obviously had no desire for handshakes, only giving you a curt nod as well, as Lloyd stepped away, pulling a pool cue out of a case.

You rolled your eyes under the brim of the hat. Of course this rich prick had his own cue. You walked over to where Steve was at the rack of cues on the wall, looking at each and evaluating which one looked the best after years of wear and tear in the old joint. He pulled one down, wordlessly asking if it worked and you nodded, handing him a little block of chalk.

“Will you hold this for me throughout the game? And a glass of water please?” He nodded and headed to the bar, ready to be at your service.

When you returned to the table, negotiations had already been made and Lloyd was starting. That already put him at an advantage, but it would be fine, as long as he couldn’t get all the balls in on the first try.

His break was successful. Sharp, forceful, and precise: something that seemed mimetic of his pristine and obnoxious appearance. With two striped balls in the pockets, he went for the next one, and the next one, of your favorite suit. It was bad enough that you had to play solids, but he was surprisingly doing well. On his attempt for a sixth sink, though, he missed, giving you the chance to step in.

You took a sip of the water in Steve’s hand, rubbing the tip of your cue with the chalk in his other. You took a deep breath, leaning over the table for your first shot. It was the furthest thing from your mind, but Steve, and hell, everyone around, took notice of you bending over for it. Steve’s eyes quickly averted, though, going straight to Lloyd and Cole, as they were shamelessly gawking, doing what you’d said they would, and hopefully losing their if focus because of it. Your jaw ticked. You were angry, and you were focused, and you were fed up, and you were ready to go. There was no way you were going to mess up. You took your shot. Sunk.

That was followed by four more, easy angles, at least for you. You didn’t even look at the two men your were competing against. The only other person you could see in your zone of focus was Steve, if that, mostly because he was holding the materials you needed to win. Anyone else, anything else, was the enemy. Blocked. This was about winning, just like the years of swindling this game had set you up for. Seven hits, seven successes, one left, so you called the pocket. It was intense, and your face was unreadable. You took the shot, not even looking to see it go in, because you knew it would. Instead, your face was turned towards the two out-of-place men, your lips slowly growing smug as small crowd that had gathered around the table erupted in cheers.

You dropped your cue on the table, waltzing up to Lloyd as Bee stood in front of Cole.

You pointed a finger into the expensive fabric on the man in front of you and looked up into his eyes, dark like the deepest, deadest ocean.

“A deal is a deal and you just lost. Now hop off from my friend’s and all the other businesses I hear you’ve been harassing. Aren’t you guys all about your word?”

You were taken aback by the dark chuckle you were met with. “Oh, cupcake, that’s cute. You think I got this far on my word? No way. You may have won this fool’s game, but you all have yet to start mine.”

After gesturing over to Cole, he put his hand over his chest, dramatically gasping in a mocking manner.

“Oh no. Where’d your precious cheese curd go?”

Your head whipped over to the bar where you’d last seen him, but were met with the sight of an empty stool. Curtis was missing.

At this point, you didn’t care about the scene you were about to make, because that crossed a line. Curtis hardly had anything to do with this entire situation and they kidnapped him? Fucking why? Before you could even register what was going on, you lunged for Lloyd, trying to punch and scratch at him, but only hitting air. Something had caught you in the middle of your movement, picking you up, leaving you kicking and clawing at nothing, but you still had your voice. Curtis was innocent, and like a brother to you, and he didn’t deserve whatever this was. So you screamed, flailing in Steve’s arms, you’d know his arms and the smell of his cologne anywhere, but that wasn’t really what you were focused on right now.

“FUCK YOU, LLOYD! FUCK YOU AND THAT UGLY ASS MUSTACHE!! FUCK YOU FOR BREAKING A PROMISE!!!”

Out of the corner of your eye, even as you were backed away, you could see Cole shift and hold his hands up. “I swear. This wasn’t part of the deal. I was just doing what I was told. I didn’t know about any of this.”

You knew how much it sucked to be left out of the loop, but you still didn’t feel sorry. Cole was literally trying to commandeer the farm. He was far from innocent. You wiggled and turned as much as you could in Steve’s tight hold.

“And fuck you, too, Cole!! You ruined chocolate milk for me!”

The last thing you could see before the crowd descended was Bucky delivering a swift blow to Lloyd’s jaw, followed by him grabbing Cole by the collar.

Your attention was pulled to something else, though, by Steve’s hands on either side of your face once he had set you on a bar stool. “Decks, Decks! I need you to look at me.”

His nose was almost to yours. “I need you to watch Cherry. I have to go and check on the guards. See what happened out there and if Curtis is really gone. You need find out what happened in here. Take this.”

He slipped something in your hand that you had no idea how he concealed in the simple button-up denim shirt and jeans he was wearing. “Take out anyone who comes at you that you don’t know.”

You looked down at what was in your grasp: a small throwing knife. Without waiting a second, you snapped into survival mode, jumping behind the bar with Cherry. No one was around the two of you right now, luckily, as a full-on bar brawl had broken out.

You turned your body towards Cherry, but your head was on a swivel watching your surroundings. “So tell me what happened. When did Curtis disappear? Did you see anything?”

She frantically shook her head. “No, a-all I know is that some girl asked me to pour her a drink. She had a bunch of specifications, and when I made it and turned back around, Curtis was gone, and so was she.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What did she look like?”

“I don’t know? Kinda short, dark hair? Annoyingly fit? Now that I think about it, kinda like the female version of the guy you were playing pool against. That’s not a coincidence, is it?”

You threw your head back. It definitely wasn’t a coincidence. It was probably Lilian.

“Ah, shit.”

Next >

Bonus A/N: The moments between Decks and Steve here were much softer than I’d anticipated them to be, but there are so many different ways to act under stress, and I think it means a lot that she’s not necessarily able to stay in her normal cold manner of upsettedness when there’s so much at stake beyond just her. Things change when others are depending on you.

Taglist: @evie-119 @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @thedonswife13

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.21

Summary: You get a hit with a bit of reality and go back to apologise to Wednesday. But it might be too late, and now everything is catching back up with you. And this time, you don't have Nicky to keep you out of trouble.

Word Count: 7.5k Warnings: swearing, stages of grief, implications of self-destructive behaviours, flashbacks Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @captainbeat @smromanoff

You felt the sticks snap under your feet as you landed haphazardly, quickly leaning against a tree so you could dry heave. Again. It was becoming something of a routine from the past five or so hours. After stopping at the house to get your things and say goodbye to Mabel and Jenkins - who promptly gave you hugs and cheek kisses. It made your stomach turn and you wanted to scream at them to please stop, it’s all my fault - before flying off.

In the grand scheme of things, you were only able to fly for about 20 minutes at a time before having to land. At first you panicked when your stomach turned, and it hurt because you hadn’t eaten and you were already exhausted. But then after another 20 minutes or so of shaky flying, you had to land and heave again. And so the vicious cycle continued.

Your skin was sticky with sweat by the time you walked through the gate at home. There was a shakiness to your legs that, for the life of you, you couldn’t get rid of. It was humiliating and you felt weak. Weak because you had just ruined everything and now you were running away? Running back home to Momma and Pop? What, were you going to tuck your tail between your legs next?

“Y/N!”

The push against your stomach was stronger than it should have been. You stumbled back, your arms windmilling in an attempt to keep you on your feet. Your duffel bag hit the dirt with a *thud* and you managed to get your feet back underneath you just enough to see your faux attacker.

And it broke your heart.

“You promised,” Hailey shouted. Not her usual yelling or griping. She shouted. With tear stained cheeks and red eyes.

“Hail-”

“-you promised he would wake up!” She continued, stepping closer. Her claws were out.

“I didn’t-”

“-and you didn’t even tell us!” She pushed against your stomach again; your feet were better planted this time. “We had to find out from Auntie Rissa!”

“Hailey!” Alex was running across the yard, the other kids fast on his tail. “Stop!”

“You promised,” Hailey cried. She swiped with her claws once. You jumped back but still felt the slightest sting on your left hip. “You promised and you let him die!”

Oh. Oh.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Alex huffed as he did his best to get in between you and Hailey. His sunglasses were riding low on his nose, but he quickly pushed them back up. “You know better.”

“Your best friend came home,” Hailey shouted at Alex. They were starting to square off. Oh no. “Mine didn’t.” She was crying. “It’s not fair.”

“Hey-”

“-Why should she get to come home when Nicky can’t?-”

“-You know it’s not that simple-”

“-Why does she get to be happy when he can’t even breathe?-”

“-Don’t be such a bitch-”

“-Enough!”

You stepped in between the both of them, your arms outstretched on either side to push them further apart. It was impeccable timing, really. You managed to step in between them right as Hailey swiped again and Alex threw a punch. The claws swiped across your forearm, and Alex tried to curb his hit but still managed to catch you in the shoulder.

You felt sick.

Everyone else had finally gotten closer, now just watching the scene unfold before them. You looked up into Pop’s eyes, trying your best to convey everything you were feeling. Scared, sick, angry, frustrated, numb. Everything and nothing all at once. You wanted to cry, and throw up, and scream, and hurt.

“It’s your fault,” Hailey said around a sob that she no longer bothered hiding. “It should have been you-”

“-Hailey,” Momma chastised immediately, but Hailey was already running off into the woods around the barn. A pained howl quickly followed.

“Come on, Nicky,” Hailey begged, “you promised to sing karaoke with me.”

“It’s 3am, Hails,” Nicky chuckled. Your eyes slowly opened to see them snuggling on the couch in the basement.

You couldn’t say much; you were cuddling with Alex on the other couch.

“Then at least sneak some ice cream with me?” Hailey asked again. She was using her puppy dog pout. Smart move, it always worked on Nicky.

“Fine,” he sighed, but he was still smiling. “But only because we’re best friends.”

“You love me most,” she said as she pulled him up from the couch.

“I suppose I do,” he laughed again.

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” Alex said, his own voice sounding watery. “It was an accident.”

You felt sick.

“I’ll go get Hailey-”

“-Let her run it off,” Pop interrupted Momma softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Alex, grab her bag.” He looked around at everyone else, including the nearly-crying kids. “Everyone else git back inside.”

A chorus of “yes Pops” filled the suffocatingly silent air. Your arms slowly fell back to your side as everyone moved, leaving the area as quickly as possible. No one wanted to stay; you didn’t blame them. You didn’t want to stay either. You didn’t want to be anywhere.

“You gonna hurl?” Pop asked as he stepped closer to you, his hand patting your shoulder a little rougher than necessary. “You’re lookin’ a little green.”

“‘m fine,” you said.

“Don’t hurl on my boots,” Pop warned.

As if on cue, you turned just in time to double over. Nothing came up; there was nothing to come up. But it still took you a few minutes of dry heaving and Pop patting your back harshly before you could stand back up on shaky legs. You just used the back of your hand to wipe the spit off your chin.

“Come inside,” Pop said softly. You don’t deserve soft. “You need food and some sleep.”

“‘m not hungry-”

“-I don’t give a damn if you’re hungry or not,” Pop interrupted. “You’re walkin’ like a newborn foal.”

“I can’t- I- I can’t eat,” you whispered. You couldn’t look into his eyes; couldn’t bear to see the pity. “I can’t.”

The stammer was embarrassing enough on its own, but the way Pop’s grip on your shoulder softened made your stomach turn and a lump form in your throat. Don’t touch me. But he did, and he was so incredibly soft, and you wanted to scream.

“Come on, baby bird,” he said softly as he pulled you into his side and started guiding you to the house. “Let’s get you home.”

You ate what Abuelita put in front of you. If anyone had asked what it was, you couldn’t have told them, but you ate it. Ate until you felt your stomach turn, then excused yourself and went straight to the bathroom. The food didn’t stay in your stomach, but at least you ate.

Momma let you sleep in her room for the night; no one would bother you in there. And you laid there on the bed and the pillows smelled like home and you didn’t sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Nicky. Or your father’s bloody face, eyes staring up at you in absolute fear.

You wanted him to fear you. But you didn’t. All you wanted was for him to hold you and say he was sorry and that he loved you. You wanted both of them to say they loved you and they were proud of you. Not that they were scared of you, or they hated you, or they blamed you for everything.

You just wanted them to want you.

Turn it off, that voice in your head said again. It sounded a little different, but still familiar. You didn’t want to turn everything off, you wanted to feel. But the words themselves buried the anger and sadness under layer after layer of numbness. Buried it until you felt nothing, and nothing went through your head except unbearable silence.

You couldn’t help it.

It was early in the morning by the time you stumbled out of Momma’s and Pop’s room. Everyone was still asleep, thankfully, and you didn’t want to be there when they woke up. You had heard Hailey come home last night and you just couldn’t be there when she got up.

It should have been you.

You left the house without any warning. The fall air was cool and the trees were a beautiful orange and yellow and red and it made you sick. Fall was Nicky’s favourite time of year, and it was so perfect out, and he couldn’t even enjoy it. A stinging sensation settled in the back of your eyes and a lump lodged itself in your throat as you started running.

It left you shaky and the cold air stung your lungs, but you still ran. Down the dirt road, into the woods and up the small hill that led to the creek. The babbling brook would normally be soothing, easing you into a calm that could only come from the outside. But today, all it did was make you angry. Angry because your feet had carried you here when you didn’t want to be here.

You couldn’t bear to be in Nicky’s favourite place.

A scream wanted to tear its way up your throat, but you wouldn’t let it. You didn’t, because if you kept it in then you could suffer a little bit too. It would continue to rage and tear you apart from the inside out. If you were lucky, maybe it would do more than that and you could prove how sorry you were.

Your eyes stung when you finally collapsed near the riverbank. The ground was cold and muddy but truthfully? You couldn’t give a damn. You were still in those fucking suit pants and dressy undershirt, and you didn’t give a damn that they were soaking through with freezing water.

The frogs and birds kept you company. Croaking by your leg while the brook continued to flow steadily in front of you. Your wings weighed heavy on your back, forcing you to hunch your shoulders in an attempt to ease the weight. It didn’t. The muscles in your back ached and it was good. Pain was good.

“It’s too quiet,” you huffed as you threw another rock into the river. The *splunk* was pretty satisfying.

“That’s the point,” Nicky said. He was laying on the riverbank with hands behind his head. His eyes were closed and his face was illuminated by the sun shining through the leaves above.

“You like listening to nature?” You asked; your fingers were digging through the mud for another rock.

“It’s relaxing,” He said with a smile. “Maybe you'll learn some patience.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

You didn’t look up but felt the body sit beside you, her arm brushing against yours only briefly. It sent a shiver down your spine and your eyes fell shut for a moment. Only for a moment. When they opened again, you looked back out at the river. It was too quiet.

You felt numb.

“Hailey told me you were out here,” Ash whispered. Please shut up. “She wanted me to check on you.” Of course she did.

"Go away, Ash," you said just as quietly.

"All due respect, sweetheart, I'm stayin," she answered. "I know you, and the last thing you need is to be alone."

"Who taught you to talk like that?" You asked. "You never used to care this much." It was a low blow and you knew it. Your eyes travelled down to the mud by your freezing legs. Without hesitation, your fingers dug in, searching blindly for something to grab.

"I grew up a little," Ash said with a light chuckle.

You hummed in response. It wasn't like you were really in the mood to talk to her anyway, and she probably knew it. Something hard stopped your digging and you slowly excavated it, lifting your hand to show off a rock. Simple, grey, jagged. You halfheartedly tossed it into the water and got to digging again.

"How's that girl from your school?" Ash asked after a few minutes of silence. "The one you brought home a few months ago."

"Small talk isn't necessary," you said quickly. "It's not even wanted-"

"-You can't push me away this time, Johnson," she cut in. "It worked before but it won't work now." You found another rock.

“Or you could just go hang out with Johnny,” you grumbled when Ash sighed. “Clearly he’s better company.”

“He’s my best friend,” she shot back. “I can have friends, can’t I?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said with a shrug. You weren’t looking at her. “You can hang out with him while I sit here and worry about my brother who's still in a coma.”

“You’re such a dick,” Ash said quickly. “You know that’s now what I mean.”

“Just leave.”

“Gladly.”

“So how is she?”

“I don’t know.” You threw the rock into the river. “Think I fucked it up already.”

“You tend to do that,” she said with a soft chuckle. Your fingers were already in the mud. “Wanna talk about it?”

No, you thought. But yes. The look of absolute pain on Wednesday’s face when you had turned away after she had confessed. Fuck, she had confessed. She had done it and you hadn’t even had the good sense to say anything positive. You were more than aware of how difficult it was for her to express emotions, but after this? You’d be lucky if she even looked at you again.

“She told me she loved me yesterday,” you said softly, your eyes travelling down to the mud. Still no rocks.

“At a funeral?” Ash scoffed.

“Her parents confessed at a funeral,” you said simply with a shrug. There was a beat of silence.

“She looks like her parents confessed at a funeral,” she finally said in a hushed voice, almost like she was experiencing a new revelation.

It almost made you laugh.

“Shut up,” you chuckled as you lightly elbowed her in the side.

“Did you say it back?”

Silence.

“Y/N,” Ash scolded. You stopped digging for rocks just long enough to look at her out of the corner of your eye. “You said it back, right?”

“I was a little distracted-”

“-You’re such a dick.” She elbowed you back; far harder than you had done to her. “That was probably peak romance for her.”

“I’m sorry I was mourning my brother, Ashley,” you taunted back. “A love confession wasn’t necessarily on my list of things to expect for the day.”

“Why the fuck are you still here?” Ash asked. 

“Excuse me?”

“Go back and apologise!” She shouted. The birds stopped chirping for a few seconds before resuming their relaxing songs. “And return the love, for fuck sake.”

“Why do you even care?” You asked. The search for rocks to throw was long forgotten.

“Because I saw your face when she kissed your cheek,” Ash sighed. “And I know she was simply markin’ her territory, but you looked happy.” Her eyes met yours; they were soft. Reminiscent of all those years ago. “I don’t think you were ever that happy with me.”

“We were kids,” you said, turning to look back out at the brook. You couldn’t handle her stare anymore. “Not sure we could have-”

“-Will you shut the hell up?” She interrupted. “Fuck, Y/N, that girl can keep you.” A huff left her lips.

“You’re doing a wonderful job at comforting me,” you grumbled.

“Go tell her,” Ash said again in a tone that left no room for argument. “Because if she doesn’t take you back then we’ll be stuck with you.” She was trying not to smile.

“You’re a bitch.”

“And you’re a dick.” Her smile turned softer, less taunting. “But you’re a dick who deserves a little bit of happiness after this clusterfuck.”

“Thanks, Ash,” you whispered.

“Just make sure you change first,” she said, her tone sounding more judgmental. “You smell like a pig.” Her eyes went down to the mud on your pants. “Look like one too.”

“Get the hell away from me,” you grumbled as you pushed her away. “Ha!” You laughed when she got her own shirt covered in mud.

“God, I hate you,” Ash grumbled. “Messin’ up my good shirt.”

Silence fell over the both of you and you looked back out over the babbling brook that no longer seemed quite as inviting. Now it was just a brook, and the frogs were just frogs, and the birds were just enjoying their day. 

For just a moment, the anger had dissipated and you could sit there. Nicky was still on your mind, and your father was still on your mind, and Wednesday was still on your mind, and everything was still slowly falling apart. But for a moment, you could sit there.

Ash was right. You needed to go back and talk with Wednesday. She would understand, right? If she would just listen and let you explain and hopefully let you say those three words back to her, it would be okay. It would be okay, right? Your pulse started to race in your ears again.

You felt numb.

—---

Getting back to Nevermore had been easy enough. You had said your goodbyes to Ash (and promptly told her not to contact you again) before heading back to the house. A quick shower (which almost felt nice after nearly two weeks without it), a change of clothes, goodbyes to everyone except Hailey (who was still furious), and a quick flight home.

Well, it wasn’t a quick flight. But it was a flight.

“Thank heavens.”

You felt a body crash into you when you walked through the front doors of Nevermore Academy again. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around your shoulders and squeezed you tight. There was only a moment of hesitation before you dropped your duffel bag and returned the hug, leaning completely into Mama Weems. The familiar scent of lavender and tea invaded your senses and for a moment, your shoulders sagged as you exhaled slowly.

“Don’t you ever run off like that again,” she whispered into your ear. Her grip tightened ever so slightly. So did yours.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled back. There was a lump in your throat and a stinging in your eyes.

You felt numb.

It was the only warm welcome you got back at Nevermore.

Ajax and Kent had waved at you from across the courtyard before Divina and Enid pulled them away. The migraine came back, but you physically shook it away. They probably just wanted to give you some space, right? You weren’t exactly one to talk openly anyway, they were being polite.

But then Yoko practically refused to look at you. You had tried to approach her the next day, but she almost immediately turned in the other direction and walked into one of the classrooms. There was an undeniable skip in your heartbeat, but you ignored it. You had ignored her for two weeks and she had seen you lose your shit; she always hated it. It made sense that she was going to keep her distance. Right?

No one let Eugene get near you. Plain and simple as that.

And you hadn’t seen hide or hair of Wednesday even after three days of being back.

“Where is she?” You asked Bianca after cornering her before a class.

“I have physics,” she said.

“I need to talk to her,” you said again. “Everyone can ignore me again later, but I need to talk to her.”

“She’ll be practising her cello in her dorm tonight,” Bianca said with only a moment of thought. “Why do you need to talk to her?” She straightened up.

“I reacted poorly to something,” you said with a sigh. Bianca was going to be late to class; she didn’t seem to care. “And Ash said I-”

“-You talked with your ex before talking with your girlfriend?” Bianca interrupted. “Are you stupid?”

“Clearly,” you said as you threw your hands in the air. “That’s why I need to apologise.”

“Don’t tell her you talked to Ash,” she said with a pointed look. “Especially if you’re already in the doghouse.”

“Keep the trio away?” You asked.

Bianca didn’t answer, but nodded once after exhaling slowly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, quickly stepping aside so she could get to class.

When you were finally standing in front of Wednesday’s door that evening, you felt numb.

Usually you would just walk in. After so long of being friends with Enid, and then with Wednesday, you had earned the privilege of coming in unannounced. But now? After the past few weeks and particularly after your reaction? Just the thought of walking in made your stomach churn. So you lifted your hand, knocked three times, and waited.

Wednesday was already in her everyday clothes when she opened the door. And yet, you couldn’t have found her more beautiful. You had missed her. If nothing else, you had just missed her company, her presence reminding you that on purpose someone chose to be with you. On purpose someone actually wanted you.

But then you saw the light bags under her eyes, and the downturn of her lips, and that murderous spark in her eyes. And you knew. You knew what was going on in her head, and you knew your heart wanted to jump out of your chest, and you knew your eyes stung. And you knew she was furious.

“Can we talk?” You asked quietly once you realised Wednesday wasn’t going to say anything.

“There’s nothing we need to talk about,” she said as she walked back out to the balcony.

“Yes there is,” you said. You shut the door behind you and followed after her like a lost puppy. Maybe you were. “I was a dick, and I’m so-”

“-I don’t require your apologies,” she interrupted you. “In fact, I would prefer you keep them to yourself.”

“No, it wasn’t right,” you said quickly. She still wasn’t even paying you any attention. “I didn’t say what I actually wanted to say.”

“I do not wish to hear what you wanted to say,” Wednesday said, and you froze. She was talking differently, like she had when you had first met. Why was she talking differently?

“What?” Maybe you heard her wrong.

“You made it clear you are either unable or unwilling to reciprocate,” she said, finally turning around to look at you. If you looked a little closer, you could see the slightest pink tint to her eyes.

“I’m- I’m not- I-” You couldn’t get the words out. You couldn’t get the fucking words out.

“Yoko has informed me of your unfortunate incidents around verbal affection.” She barely even let you open your mouth to answer. “To save us both some trouble, I have decided to return to our previous acquaintanceship so you may have the space you require.”

Oh. 

Oh. 

If your heart could physically break, that’s exactly what it was doing. You could hear and feel each individual beat of your heart, each one hurting more than the last. It made you want to rip into your chest with your bare hands and pull it out, offering the broken muscle to Wednesday on a silver platter if that’s what it would take to make it stop hurting.

“Acq- a- a- acquaintanceship?” You asked, shaking your head. Trying to get the migraine to go away. “Wednesday that’s- that’s not- I don’t-”

“-I am in the middle of something,” Wednesday interrupted. “You may say what you wish to say, then leave me to my allotted practice time.”

She turned her back to you and sat down in her chair on the balcony. Her delicate fingers repositioned the cello and picked up the bow, and it was like you weren’t even there. Like you hadn’t just come by to say you were sorry, to say you loved her too. You were nothing more than an inconvenience to her schedule, just like old times.

And you couldn’t even blame her.

The music started to resonate through the open window, bouncing off the walls of the room. It echoed in your skull and picked apart the folds of your brain one by one, like it was slicing the excess chunks off until it could force itself into every available inch of space. Usually you loved to hear her play, loved to sit on the roof above her and just watch until she was finished; a watchful gargoyle against the inky black sky.

But now? No, now it was just intolerable. Unbearable, even.

She didn’t turn around when you dragged your leaden feet to the door. Didn’t check on you when you tripped over the air, your feet hitting the ground with a little extra force. And she certainly didn’t turn around when you did. Don’t let me leave, your heart begged her.

“I just…” Don’t say it, your mind told you. Please say it, your heart cried. “I love you too, Wednesday.”

The cello came to a screeching halt, only for a second before resuming again. Wednesday didn’t turn around; you knew she wouldn’t. And all those big feelings you had finally mentally agreed to start feeling grabbed the shovel and started digging until they were six feet under the numbness.

Not even anger stayed on the surface. Not this time.

With shaky, sweating hands you opened the door and stood face to face with Enid, Yoko, and Divina. A lump formed in the back of your throat as you looked at each of them briefly. You forced an unconvincing smile and gently pushed past them. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as they watched you leave, but you didn’t care.

What was there to even care about anymore?

You felt numb.

—---

There was a reason Wednesday had never let anyone too close. It was a distraction, a liability, and it was a gateway to feeling hurt. Nothing good ever came out of letting anyone close. After all, look what had happened with Nero? She had loved him, and all it had gotten her was suffering. And not the good kind.

That’s what you had done. You had hurt her, and she hated you for it. She knew your situation, she understood as best as she possibly could. But her childish feelings had led to you hurting her. She had dared to open up and feel something, and it had led to all this unbearable suffering. Maybe she had been right when she had told her mother she would never fall in love.

It was impossible not to see you around Nevermore, and that made everything so much harder. You were there in class, grading papers or cleaning up afterwards. You were there in the quad, walking with Weems with a straight back and wings hidden. You were there in Jericho, sitting on a bench with shaking hands and a cup of coffee that had gone cold.

She hated you for that too. For looking so pitiful all the time, like a stray dog begging for someone to give them attention. Yoko was still upset with you, she had made it very clear on numerous occasions. But Kent and Ajax had pulled you in again, always sitting with you or hanging out with you again. You almost smiled on those days.

You turned cold with everyone. The occasional nod of acknowledgment, or even a small wave was all anyone got out of you. Not that she had tried to get your attention, she had told you to leave. Had downgraded your relationship to nothing more than acquaintances on the best of days. But she didn’t think you would have actually listened to her and started practically ignoring her.

More than once, Wednesday found you in some sort of disarray once the work day was done. Sometimes you were dangerously high in Kent and Ajax’s room, not saying a word but eyes focused on the ceiling. One of the boys always tried to keep the door closed enough for you to be hidden when she came by, but she could still see you. It was pathetic, truly. At least she tried to convince herself it was.

Other times she found you wandering the grounds late at night. Never with your wings out and always near the lake. She could see you from her balcony; sometimes she would catch you while practicing cello, other times she was actively looking for you. You would stand out there and just look. More than once you toed your shoes off and dove into the freezing water, fully clothed. Wednesday would wait with bated breath until you finally resurfaced after far too long.

You would crawl back up onto the dock, gasping and sputtering as you laid on your back with your hands over your face. She didn’t have to assume what was on your mind during those nights.

But the worst part was a few weeks later, when everyone was finally starting to talk about the Rave’N once again. You had wormed your way back into sitting with the group during meals, talking with everyone as if nothing had happened. Well, everyone except her. There was still a certain lack of emotion to your words, and an underlying anger.

With the way you talked to her though, as if she was someone you had barely met before instead of someone you had harboured feelings for. That was what hurt. Yes, she had told you to simply be an acquaintance, but she hadn’t expected it to be this utterly painful. To have you so close, the heat from your body warming her own, but not being able to touch you.

Wednesday knew it was unfair. She knew she should have heard you out, listened to you, even accepted whatever apology you would have attempted to come up with. It had been clear you were sincere, and she knew you were suffering over your own things. There was no ground for her to be painting you as the villain in this whole situation.

But she had made her choice. Yoko had told her of your aversion to people loving you. How you felt it only led to the suffering of those who fell victim to it. Nicky, Hailey, Alex, your ex. Each had suffered in some way after admitting their affections aloud.

Wednesday supposed she now could sign her name on that list as well.

“Are you going with Dumb and Dumber?” Divina asked you. You stopped picking apart your sandwich for a moment to look up before resuming. “Or Bianca?”

“Nah.” You shook your head slowly. “I volunteered as a chaperone.”

“So someone can spike the punch,” Yoko said with a small smile. “Devious.”

“More like so I can get out of cleanup duty,” you answered quickly. “You going with anyone, Addams?”

You mean far too much to call me that, Wednesday’s black heart cried. Your eyes were far too gentle and there was too much left unsaid in your question. Why were you being so gentle? She wanted you to fight back. If you weren’t going to fight for her, then she wanted you to fight her.

“You could always take Xavier,” Enid teased.

“She’s a sadist, not a masochist, Sinclair,” you shot back. But Wednesday saw the slightest downturn of the corner of your lips before you turned to look at her again. “You could do better.”

I can, she thought. I had you. But she kept her mouth shut and looked back down at the half eaten apple sitting in front of her. You shouldn’t be giving her relationship advice, you should be the one with her. You pushed her away, her mind told her. She just scowled and kept her head down.

“What about the barista at the Weathervane?” Yoko asked. “That Galpin kid.”

“Barista?” You asked as your head shot up. Wednesday noticed Yoko was staring directly at you with furrowed brows, almost daring you to say something wrong. “What barista?”

“He’s been sweet on Wednesday for the past month or so,” Yoko continued. Stop it, Wednesday thought when she could practically see the gears turning in your head, trying to connect dots that weren’t there. You’ll make her give up. “Some normie kid.”

“Wait, Tyler?” You asked.

“The Sheriff’s son,” Yoko said with a nod. She almost looked confident; it wasn’t a good look for her.

“You know Tyler?” Divina asked. Was he another ex of yours? Clearly you had them and weren’t keen on sharing your past experiences.

Oh. That thought was far more vindictive than Wednesday had intended. What were you even doing to her?

“They fought a few times,” Yoko answered before you could. You were still staring at your sandwich, lost in thought. “Didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Sheriff Galpin knows me by name.”

“You should go with him,” Yoko said, finally turning to look at Wednesday. She was planning something. “I guess he’s cute. You two would be the talk of the dance.”

Wednesday turned to look at you from the corner of her eyes. She wanted you to say something. Argue, tell her it was stupid, fight her about it. But you didn’t. You didn’t even look at her, instead moving to pick apart the granola bar now that your sandwich was decimated.

Conversation ceased until everyone separated again.

Wednesday wasn’t convinced about asking Tyler to the Rave’N. Yes, he had been seeming far more interested in her over the past few weeks, and yes, he had given her free quads lately. Did she like him? He had done nothing of worth, so she felt absolutely nothing for him.

“Go ask him,” Ajax urged two evenings later while everyone was at the Weathervane.

You included. Currently you were on the other side of the cafe, sitting across the table from Bianca talking about who-knew-what. Neither one of you were smiling, but you rarely did when together. At least not when Wednesday was observing you both. You didn’t look upset; more neutral.

“She’ll see you ask him, get jealous, and then you’re in the clear,” Kent continued.

“Are you two high?” Enid asked cautiously.

“Not currently,” Ajax answered.

“Maybe that’s why you’re being so stupid,” Enid sighed.

“This ploy appears immature,” Wednesday said with a frown.

“If it works, does it matter?” Kent scoffed.

“Kent-”

“-Hear us out,” Ajax interrupted Enid. “I’ll comfort her about Nicky all day every day,” he started, “but that bitch needs tough love when it comes to relationships.”

“That sounds counterproductive,” Wednesday said.

“That’s why it works,” Ajax said with a smile and a nod. “If you think it’s ridiculous, then it works on her.”

“Oh my god,” Enid huffed. “Willa, just please ask Tyler to the Rave’N already so we can get back to normal.” She looked at Wednesday more seriously than ever before. “Thing and I want our cuddle buddy back.”

Wednesday looked over at you once again. You leaned back in your chair with your eyes on the coffee in front of you that was no longer steaming. You never finish it anymore, she thought with a slight frown. Was that her fault? Did you no longer drink coffee after she had given you space?

No. It couldn’t be her fault. She was never wrong.

Without a second glance in your direction, Wednesday stood up and walked to the counter with a purpose. Tyler was already there, cleaning something that, realistically, he had already cleaned. She noticed he had a habit of cleaning things when he was bored. Admirable, really.

“Need another quad?” Tyler asked with what Wednesday supposed everyone else would call a boyish smile.

“Do you have plans this Saturday evening?” She asked with a slight tilt of her head.

“Plans?” He asked, mirroring her. Clever. “Not yet.”

“Excellent,” she said. “Then you can accompany me to the Rave’N.”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” He asked, his smile turning into a smirk. “I won’t go unless I’m asked.”

Wednesday blinked once. The absolute audacity of this boy. Who did he think he was to demand to be asked? It almost stopped her right there, going back to the table because we tried, he’s not worth the effort, better luck next time. But Ajax and Kent swore it would work…

“Would you… go… to the Rave’N with me?” She asked with great struggle. The look in Tyler’s eyes indicated he enjoyed it.

“I would love to,” he said softly. “I’ll pick you up from your dorm at 7.”

She didn’t bother saying anything else to him. The whole situation was humiliating enough without adding even more conversation. When she turned around, she saw you; you were furious. If looks could kill, Tyler would have been eviscerated. Your bottom jaw readjusted a few times before you looked back down at your coffee.

Maybe this ridiculous plan would work after all.

The pointless dance came far sooner than Wednesday had been prepared for. She had been so busy watching you, revelling in your petty comments on Tyler and your sudden possessiveness that made occasional appearances. It hadn’t even occurred to her that the Rave’N was actually arriving, and you weren’t actually going with her.

For a moment she had forgotten about the current situation.

“You look beautiful,” Tyler said as he stood outside the now-opened dorm door.

“Let’s get going,” she said simply. “Thing, don’t wait up.”

Thing saluted and tucked back into the magazine he was reading. Wednesday took the corsage from Tyler and quickly walked away. The sooner this whole dance was over, the better. If Ajax and Kent’s stupid plan didn’t work, she was going to kill them. Slowly and painfully.

You were already at the dance by the time everyone arrived. Weems had greeted them, giving Wednesday a particularly unusual look, but you were inside. Not too far from the DJ, locked into what appeared to be a heated discussion with Eugene. The both of you were in white suits, and she wouldn’t deny you looked particularly stunning.

White was a wonderful colour on you.

Talk was cheap the entire night, not that she was paying attention. She was too distracted keeping an eye on you. On the way you were constantly walking around, fidgeting with your hands, tapping your foot far too offbeat to be usual. More often than not she would catch your eye; only for a moment, but that moment made her stomach twist into knots.

She had missed it.

“I’ll grab some punch,” Tyler said into her ear in an attempt to be heard over the music. She nodded once before he left.

Much to her excitement, you caught him at the table. That was the moment Wednesday realised Yoko was right; you two had history. It was evident in the frown on your face and the tight set of your jaw. In the way your lip lifted into a snarl at something he said. In the way you reached out and grabbed his arm when he tried to walk away.

She couldn’t hear what you were telling him, but she didn’t have to be smart to know it was about her. Not when the both of you turned your head simultaneously to look at her. She knew she should look at Tyler; he was her date for the night.

But she was looking at you. Only at you.

“I can see why you two aren’t together anymore,” Tyler said as he handed a cup to Wednesday once he got back to the group.

“Watch it, normie,” Bianca said. It wasn’t a threat. Yet. “You’re only a guest for the night.”

Everyone started conservative conversations, not about anything special. Now that everyone was on edge, no one deemed it appropriate to have fun. Wonderful, now they could feel almost as miserable as Wednesday did. Not that she was listening, of course, she was too busy staring at the cup sitting in front of her-

“-Wednesday.”

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, barely even touching her. She twisted in her seat in time to see you pull your hand back, holding the recently formed fist to your stomach. You were worrying your lip in that way she had become accustomed to, and your eyes were flitting between her and where Tyler was sitting.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

She nodded once and stood up from her seat without wasting a single breath to tell anyone where she was going. Everyone should have noticed anyway, if the grin on Yoko’s and Divina’s faces were anything to go by. Your knuckles brushed against her hand before you quickly pulled away again.

“Be careful around Tyler,” you said once you had pulled her to the far side of the room.

It was the place where you had both stayed during the Rave’N last year. Had you done that on purpose? Or was the small detail so important, so ingrained into your head that you had done it subconsciously? Would she have even preferred it one way or another?

“He’s a prick,” you continued with a snarl of your lip. You glanced up in the direction of the table before looking back down.

“I simply needed someone to accompany me,” Wednesday said quickly. Don’t tell her that.

“To give me space,” you said with a nod. She blinked once and nodded back. “I don’t need space.”

“Yoko said-”

“-Quit listening to what Yoko said,” you interrupted not unkindly. “Listen to what I’m saying.”

Wednesday met your eyes. She could hold eye contact indefinitely if the need arose, unless it was with you. For once, you didn’t look high and you had clear eyes again. How long had it been since you had last been sober? There was such a clarity and intensity in your gaze that it was almost like you were looking through her.

And she missed you. Having you so close, your face mere inches from hers once again. It was disgusting, and humiliating, but she missed you. Missed your proximity, your voice, the way you looked at her as if you would break her. Yet even then you never treated her as fragile; instead like she was invaluable, irreplaceable even.

“I’m listening,” she said softly, her eyes flitting down to look at your lips as you licked them once.

“I just-”

-Your eyes darted up for a second before you did a quick double take. You straightened your back and kept looking behind Wednesday. She turned her head, almost instantly finding what had caught your attention. Sheriff Galpin had walked into the room with three officers - clearly not from Jericho, if the gear was anything to go by - following after him.

You both watched as Sheriff Galpin walked directly to Tyler, talking and gesturing. She hoped he was only coming to talk to his son; that would be typical for the man who barely tolerated Outcasts to begin with. But then they both turned and looked in her direction, in your direction.

“Y/N,” Sheriff Galpin said with what Wednesday could only describe as a pained smile.

“I didn’t touch Tyler,” you said with a shake of your head.

“That’s not why I’m here, kid,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“What is going on here?” Weems asked as she came up to the group. She looked furious.

“Out of my jurisdiction,” Sheriff Galpin said with a halfhearted shrug.

“Turn around and put your hands behind your back.” One of the officers behind Sheriff Galpin told you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, but did exactly as directed.

“You’re under arrest for battery domestic violence and two counts of homicide,” the first officer said as the other put the handcuffs around your wrists.

“I beg your pardon?” Weems asked. “Where are these charges coming from?”

“You have the right to remain silent.”

The music continued to blare in the room, and everyone continued dancing. But the only thing Wednesday could hear was a ringing in her ears. You turned your head to lock eyes with her, and it felt like her heart had stopped beating. There was a fear in your eyes, but also something else. Something that was emphasised by the sag in your shoulders and the way your head hung low.

Acceptance.

“Call my Pop,” you said. You hadn’t listened to anything the officer had told you. "Please."

She wanted to reach out to you, to say something to you. Tell you it would be alright, or that she would get you out. But she didn’t say anything. She didn’t even move as they escorted you out of the Rave’N. No, she just stood there with Weems and watched until you disappeared.

You had been arrested. You were being taken to a jail, clearly not in Jericho, and she didn’t know where you were going. She couldn’t keep you safe, she didn’t get to hear what you had to say. You would now be labelled a criminal.

Maybe she had a type.

[bunglestraydogs]

Nobody but Oda and Atsushi really care for Dazai.

Before ANYONE starts coming after me viciously and saying that obviously it's not just them that care for Dazai, I know. I'm not saying nobody else cares. I'm just saying that these two cared the most and are genuinely worried for him. Well, were. RIP Oda. <3

Let me explain why.

We all are very much aware of the jumpscare we got in BSD Wan, right? Where we thought it was all cute and happy, and BAM we get fucking shot in the chest by Dazai's "When I go, I hope to go out just as beautifully."

HELLO? This was not okay. Usually, when we hear Dazai talking about suicide (save for Fifteen and The Dark Era) he's pretty whimsical about it, not ever really serious. Yet, here, we see just how serious he is. Atsushi does think he's half-joking at first, before he looks towards Dazai and just sees this dead, dull look in his eyes whilst he smiles at the sky. Atsushi is rattled by this, and genuinely distressed. Fuck me, I sobbed when I first watched this scene, I was not expecting the wholeass 180. Anyways, we see how upset Atsushi is by this statement. "Please don't say stuff like that, even as a joke." We still get zero reaction from Dazai. Nothing. Here, we see him without his usual comic relief mask, but he's still guarding himself.

Let me get into why I think.

Dazai has not had anyone genuinely care about him at any point in his life (excluding before he was 14, fuck knows what happened there) so far. Mori, who was essentially a really twisted and fucked up father figure, didn't care about his wellbeing much, except for the fact that he stopped him committing suicide multiple times for the first year that he knew him. Not out of the kindness of his heart, but due to the fact that Dazai was still a necessary pawn in Mori's plans, and he couldn't let him die yet. It literally says so in the Fifteen LN.

Chuuya cares about him to some extent. When Dazai gets wounded (and it's not inflicted by Chuuya) he gets worried and concerned. Prime example being during their fight with Lovecraft, when Dazai gets fucking slapped against a tree. Chuuya punches Lovecraft with a "heavy fist" and then immediately runs over to Dazai, making sure he's okay. When Dazai eventually looks up, Chuuya becomes shaken at how bad his wound is. Then, the next time that Dazai gets slapped again, Chuuya is very very shaken, as Dazai starts spouting off about how he's going to die, and his final words. Chuuya is clearly rattled, and is trying to get him to shut up, asking him what the hell he means. Then, obviously, Dazai is messing, and Chuuya grows anger. Despite Chuuya's hatred for Dazai, he is clearly concerned where his partner's wellbeing is involved. The first time they meet, Chuuya is once again shaken by Dazai when he says to "kill him now then", and is taken aback. Through the years, however, Chuuya becomes desensitised to Dazai's suicidal antics, and he even teases him when they reunite, asking him if he still wants to kill himself, then grows disappointed when Dazai outright admits to it.

Kunikida is of course concerned about his partner, but is also exasperated and annoyed by him. When Dazai goes missing, he even jabs at the fact that he could of actually succeeded in killing himself this time (he mentions that he's probably floating in a river somewhere). As he does mention, though, "That man's ability to avoid death approaches nightmare proficiency." Then Ranpo, "Not even the Port Mafia would be able to get the better of him." And Kenji, "Even after all those suicide attempts, he's still as lively as ever." This is obviously fucking true, all of it. He sees through everything and each step of his is carefully planned and atriculated. However, as Atsushi says, "Still, aren't you worried?" He knows this, and he understands what they're saying, but he is taken aback by their lack of care. Then, Tanizaki steps in, saying that he'll help look for him. King. Atsushi is happy about this clearly. Atsushi really cares for him already, and he doesn't understand why everyone else is so calm about this situation. It's because they all know that he'll get himself out of there in one piece, as he is able to avoid these types of things expertly and deftly. However, Atsushi still is worried for Dazai. Kunikida has been Dazai's partner for two years now, and so he knows all of his antics and tricks, much like Chuuya. Chuuya, however, knows him better and more in depth. Because the ADA Dazai isn't really him. Of course, it is him, but with his darker side hidden a lot more. I don't think he's ever revealed it to any of the members except for Kunikida during his entrance exam. The rest all think of him as some goofball who's good at what he does and has a passion for suicide and women. However, Chuuya knows him as a twisted, unwell guy with a passion for suicide and all things dark, with a but of a wacky side to him. These two parallells still have one thing in common, however, and that's obviously suicide. Anyways, sorry, I was getting out of hand. Kunikida clearly cares for Dazai and his wellbeing, but again, is also infuriated by him and his attempts at suicide, which nobody takes seriously.

Mori. Fuck, man. This guy? Real piece of shit. Sees Dazai as an asset in his plan, nothing more, nothing less. He values him as a Port Mafia member, not a human being. The dehumanising nature of Mori greatly impacts Dazai and his quest for death; Mori exacerbates this multiple times. Yes, he stops him continuously from killing himself, but once again, only because he needs him as a piece in his game plan. He was the sole witness to his promotion as the boss of the Port Mafia, he can't have him go die on him now. So, he keeps a close watch on Dazai, surveillance constant. He controls and manipulates the shit out of him, using his craving for death as a means to get him to do what he wants, bargaining a drug for a comfortable way out in exchange for him doing missions for him, to which Dazai expects, wanting him to make him that drug. Mori saved him at 14, yet Dazai continues to attempt suicide countless times in just that one year. Mori does not care for his wellbeing, mentally or physically. He drives him out of the mafia with Oda's death, yet still expects him to want to come back as an executive. Despite claiming that he didn't drive Dazai out of the mafia, he indirectly did so. Now, I don't know if he sent Oda into this with the expectation that Dazai was going to leave, but I think he did but also don't think he did? I think he did this as a means to get Dazai more under his control and manipulate him, because he knew how close they were and he knew exactly what strings to pull to get Dazai to snap. Except, I don't think he predicted Dazai actually leaving the Port Mafia, because he couldn't of predicted what Oda would say to Dazai, and he couldn't of predicted how deep their bond was.

This brings me to my main and next point; Oda was the only one who ever cared for Dazai. Ango of course did, but not to the extent of Oda. I don't know if many people have read it, but if you haven't, spoilers for 'The Time I Picked Up Dazai' under the cut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the book, we see just how much Oda begins to really care about Dazai, despite him initially being some shady kid that turned up half dead on his doorstep. He ties him up to his bed just so that he won't try and escape and kill himself, as he exclaims to Oda. Oda goes through so many measures to make sure Dazai doesn't kill himself. Three times. Three fucking times. The first time being Dazai crawling to the door to try and get out so that he can get out of Oda's way and die in peace. The second time, he literally fights Oda because he's trying to stab himself. Then, two seconds later, tries to kill himself with the kettle. Oda has to physically stop him. Oda has to fucking strangle him unconcious to get him to stop. Despite meeting him only three days prior, he cares about his wellbeing. Part of the reason is obviously that he doesn't want a dead kid on his hands, but the other part is that he's growing to care for Dazai. All throughout this little book, we see little glimpses of Oda's genuine concern for Dazai. Obviously at first, he was debating just leaving him on the doorstep, because it wasn't really his issue. Yet, he still drags Dazai back to the bed and ties him up when he tries crawling out the house. In the Dark Era, we see him (in the alley scene) tell Dazai to stop talking after he almost gets shot, because he knows that he's just chatting shit. However, in the book (holy shit, it made me cry when I read it) this happens instead;

The way he described Dazai at the end of this scene kind of broke me. "That of a child about to burst into tears." Now, I don't know whether he meant that Dazai was so happy to finally just, you know, die, or that Dazai was just a troubled child. Both, I think. Odasaku sees Dazai as a child, just a child, and the fact that he wants to die so bad and has such a warped perception of the world genuinely hurts Odasaku. He doesn't want to see Dazai like that; it upsets him. He's genuinely angry at what Dazai did, much like how a father would be angry. He can't stand when Dazai's like this because it breaks his heart. Despite Ango scolding him for letting Dazai speak like that, as he will just start going more off the rails, Oda does tell Dazai not to be like that, and is concerned when he is and when he's serious about it, as opposed to him being whimsical about it in the bar. Ango and Odasaku are like father/brother figures to Dazai, they're fond of him and care about him deeply. Which is why it hurts Dazai so much when it starts falling apart. Bungou Stray Dogs fucking breaks me, because in the scene (I haven't finished The Dark Era LN yet, I'm sorry-) in the anime where Dazai is talking about how everything he loves or wants always leaves in the end whenever he obtains them. And so, when Odasaku died, despite how much Dazai prepared for the things he loves to be lost, he couldn't prepare for it at all. And when he finally loses it, he's lost the final stable thing in his life. His attempt at wanting to live had left. His friendship with Oda and Ango was stained with Ango's betrayal. His life in the Port Mafia became dull and depressing. His attempt at trying to live failed. And his best friend died in his fucking arms.

Then Atushi comes in, and reminds him of all he's lost, yet also all he wants to save and achieve. He raises Atushi, because that's what Oda would have wanted. He raises him because it's the right thing to do, and he wants to be there for him. But he doesn't expect Atsushi to begin to actually hold a deep fondness of him. Dazai, as we all know, cannot handle compliments or being cared for, because it's something so rare and foreign to him. So, even though it's supposed to be funny and nice, BSD Wan really hits fucking hard with this one. He doesn't realise that anyone actually cares for him; evil expects evil from others, as he said. Dazai is constantly on guard, cautious and reserved and shielded. He doesn't want to be hurt again. And so, when Atsushi says shit like this, it catches him off guard, but he can't let that show. He can't let anyone see him vulnerable, because everybody has an ulterior motive. He's going to be used for something.

Sound familiar?

SIGMA.

I know, jumpscare, right?

Bet you weren't expecting me to fucking jump to him.

But, I think that's why Dazai actually cares for Sigma in the little time he's come to know him. "I see. So that's how it is." He says after we see Sigma's internal monologue. Not going to lie, I think Dazai sees a bit of himself in Sigma and is trying to save him from that, and show him that not everyone tries to use him, and that he's safe with him and the ADA, which fucking works when Fyodor tries to manipulate him and Sigma pulls out a fucking UNO reverse card on him, and stands his ground, because he won't be used anymore. Dazai has never been able to confront Mori properly about anything, and so if he can let someone else feel what he wishes he could, then that would make him happy. Plus, Sigma's technically an orphan lol.

Another thing of importance to note is

Okay sorry I've been sat here for about five minutes trying to remember and I can't FUCK.

Anyways, the care from Atsushi that Dazai gets is foreign to him. He doesn't know how to respond, so he just doesn't respond at all. Because it hurts too much, and reminds him of Oda.

I THINK I REMEMBERED BUT I DON'T KNOW IF THIS WAS IT.

Anyways, despite it being what I thought of or not, it's a key point to make. When Atsushi's orphanage Director passes away, and he doesn't know how to feel, it's Dazai there to help him through it as he faces the loss of a "loved" one. He doesn't know how to feel about the Director's death. He was someone who raised him, someone who was always there. Except, the Director was a sick, twisted and cruel man, despite him only trying to prepare Atsushi from the worst and save him from what he went through himself and what Atsushi's parents did to him. Clearly not the correct way to raise a kid. However, Dazai tells him "When someone's father dies, they tend to cry." Dazai; emotionless, inhuman and uncaring. This is how Chuuya sees him in his Port Mafia days. This is how everyone saw him; someone to be feared for his lack of humanity and twisted way of dealing with things, his warped perceptions of the universe. Yet, when Odasaku dies, it's the only time we see Dazai crying, and it's the most upset or nervous or emotional we've seen him; the guy's a fucking wreck. This just broke me when he said that, not just because poor fucking Atsushi, but also because Oda was a father figure to Dazai. The only time we have seen him cry was of course Oda. And when he says that to Atsushi, my heart breaks. Literally crumbles. This series is actually god awful, I hate it.

In conclusion, Dazai obviously doesn't respond well to compliments or worries about his wellbeing, and Atsushi reminds him too much of Oda. Everything Atsushi is and does; Atsushi, who he's took under his wing as an orphan. Atsushi, who doesn't see the value or meaning in killing people. Atsushi, who asked Aku to be a mafia member who doesn't kill. Atsushi, who took in Kyouka, despite her flaws, and Dazai had to be there to explain that no matter what, she could be in the ADA, despite her kills, despite being an assassin, despite being in the PM. This shit hits hard for him, and I hate it so much.

Anyways, sorry for this long ass rant but it just kills me how nobody actually thinks to look deeper into Dazai's suicidal tendencies, as he's clearly not okay. Atsushi and Oda are the only one's who have ever thought to pursue it, and actively stop him from thinking like that.

I hope you're all having a lovely day/night! <3