#rips and tears at his sleeve like a dog pick me up pet me give me a treat

[vanityloves]

Howdy Jude!!!!! I wanted to ask: what's a funky fun date night you see you and Spencer having :o? I keep thinking of y'all playing laser tag or playing outside in the summer with dyed water balloons :3c

I'm looking forward to hearing your answer if you feel like answering it-- no pressure if you don't!

Tex @tex-treasures

hiii tex thank you for the ask + the prompts omg (and sorry its so late)! i hope youre doing well hun :> @tex-treasures heres a glimpse of an au w/ spencer ive been working on 😳 /jjj

I can definitely see both those things happening honestly!

Spencer is kind of a busy body but mot extremely athletic or active per say, BUT he'd love having those types of dates! - nothing like hiking long distances or running marathons (he'd pass out at mile 3 from the heat tbh) but running around the 'map' and getting competitive is definitely up his alley! He's a bit of a child and probably makes friends with the 15 year olds that play on his team and really gets into it; it's silly but sweet seeing this tree of a man peek his gun around the corner and randomly fire jqjdj

I'm pretty non-competitive but I'm not a lousy guy or someone that wants to ruin the experience - ill run around and probably bump into him too many times for it to be funny, especially with the loud noises of plastic smashing together. He reminds me we're not play football before shooting my pack and running off, laughing to himself. I'm not a sore loser BUT I will, however, get annoyed if he's rubbing it in my face on how I lost 'just, SO bad.' He'll probably make up for it with ice cream or something like that. 

From what I know, Seattle is pretty gloomy (atmosphere wise) but he'd never pass up a day to mess around w/ water guns and balloons when the warmer seasons roll around. I think he's the type to shoot water at me from across the room and run off and it just turns into a whole thing, even with the gang. Knowing there's an episode where they all run around trying to shoot each other w/ paintballs really solidifies the fact that this overgrown child can and will partake in any type of game and even when im 'out', he'd still accidentally get me and apologize for it later (and clean everything up).

Something he's canonly good at is skating so i feel like he'd wanna show off that skill a bit, especially after finding his old skates in his closet. Rollerblading/skating is something I've only done as a child (maybe 6ish?) But if ice skating is anything like that, I'll be semi competent on my own bc surprisingly, I know how to ice skate, unbeknownst to him - so I'll let him have his Teacher Time and let him have his moment to shine. Plus the added bonus of holding his hands to keep me steady or hands on my waist is too good to pass up anyways! 

bonus thingy:

Not really a date thing but Spencer is pretty crafty and makes his own costumes and stuff but I like to imagine helping him out by dyeing fabrics or holding things in place for him. Occasionally he'll make me wear whatever it is just to see how it'll fall or vice versa, he'll trust me to pin certain parts down while he wears the piece!

i like to think of him designing something like a jacket, shirt, pants, etc to work on as a present for me but he's not very good at secrets and tends to fixate so he might hole himself up until he's finished despite my birthday/the holidays/etc being months away, so he opts to just give them to me asap bc he wants to see my reaction. he's like that guy on tiktok that makes clothes for his gf all the time 😭

[futurequeenofravka]

Good Enough - Sirius x Reader

Summary:

After a spat with a Slytherin girl in your year, you’ve start to doubt your relationship with Sirius Black. While you are wildly in love with him, you start to question why he chose you, a “mudblood.”

Warnings: None, I don’t think? Just a little angsty!

A/N: this is my first piece! it’s a lil test of a fic I’d like to write eventually, and it was prompted by mmfd so I decided to tweak the dialogue from the show a little to make it wizarding world esque hahah. But I hope you enjoy! thank you so much for reading, this is the first time I’ve ever shared my creative writing online so please let me know what you think (also please send requests)! Also sorry if the formatting looks a lil weird, posting this from my phone made it kinda wonky.

Word count: 2.2k-ish words.

—

Pst. Psssst.

Sirius’s whisper grew louder until I looked over my shoulder to where he and James were sitting a few desks back from Lily and I. He tried to silently mouth a question as Professor Binns droned on about last night’s reading. James and Lily quietly laughed as they watched Sirius try to repeat himself a number of times before ultimately giving up. I shot him an apologetic look for my lip reading skills, or I guess lack thereof, as I watched him rip up a piece of parchment and scribble down a message. He waited for a spare moment in which Binns had his back turned to the class to write something on the chalkboard and then tossed the crumpled up piece of paper at me.

“What’s it say?” Lily asked as I unfolded the piece of parchment that Sirius had thrown my way.

“Blimey is he fucking annoying.” I said letting out a small laugh as I read the note.

“Well?” She leaned in closer trying to read the note from over my shoulder.

I slid the parchment across our shared desk so that she could read the message as well. Hi. I just wanted to say you look beautiful today. Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at 7? Lily sarcastically groaned as she slid the note back over to me and we pretended to go back to our class work. I turned back around to see Sirius intently waiting for my answer, I rolled my eyes at the silly gesture but smiled as I gave him a small nod to confirm our meeting later.

“You two are so sickly sweet sometimes, honestly I think I might have a toothache.” She said loud enough to provoke a laugh from James who eyed her from a few desks over.

“Beats the headache I get from watching you and Potter dodge your feelings for each other.” I retorted, quietly laughing as I tried to refocus my attention back to my textbook.

After class had ended I said bye to Lily as I made my way to the library to study for my potions exam. Sirius had already promised James that he’d come watch the Gryffindors practice for the upcoming Quidditch match so I’d have to study alone today, which I didn’t particularly mind because usually with Sirius around I hardly got any studying done. He pressed a kiss on my temple before we parted ways. When I got to the library I took a seat in the corner as usual and began to sprawl my textbooks across the table.

In the midst of studying I heard giggles from a herd of girls a few tables over. Looking over I met eyes with Ianthe, a Slytherin also in sixth year, who was sitting alongside Sirius’s cousins Bellatrix and Narcissa. Though I had never spoken more than a few words to either of them, I knew I was not favored in the Black household. If anything, they probably hated me; although Sirius would never burden me with that confirmation, I knew how his family felt about me and “my kind.”

Being muggle born was still a rarity at Hogwarts, and one that pureblood families often had strong feelings against. Lily and I became fast friends because of this. Being two of the only Muggle born students at Hogwarts made fitting in quite hard sometimes. There were often things that we didn’t understand or we lost on. We relied on Marlene, Alice, and Dorcas a lot for explanations and now as of recently on the “Marauders,” as they called themselves, as well. But it was comforting to have Lily around, to have someone who understood experiences unique to us. Someone who understood what it felt like to miss basic muggle things while away at school, like televisions or even just pens.

I rolled my eyes at the giggling girls and went back to reading the next chapter in my textbook. Several minutes passed before my studying was interrupted again, this time I looked up to see the three slender girls approaching my table, a wicked grin plastered across each of their faces as they surrounded my table.

“Can I help you?” I breathed looking up from my book.

“Yes actually. Would you mind backing off of Sirius?” Ianthe mused as she flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Excuse me?” I asked, Bellatrix laughed at my response, a cackle echoing across the room.

“I thought dating you would just be his latest phase but it’s been almost 6 months. I expected that he’d come crawling back to me by now but you seem to be standing in my way.” Ianthe ran her fingers over my notes and shuffled my things around as she spoke.

“In your way of what? Stealing my boyfriend?”

“Precisely.” Narcissa chimed in from behind the blonde haired girl.

“Honestly, Y/N. It’s kind of pathetic how you constantly follow Sirius around like a puppy dog. One day I’m sure he’ll bore of having a little pet mudblood and finally come back to his senses.” Bellatrix said, her tone was cold and cruel as she knocked over a few of my things and proceeded with a sarcastic oops.

“I mean our families have been practically planning our wedding since before we were even born.” Ianthe said trying to refocus my attention back on her.

“Shove off, the lot of you.” I said trying to ignore anymore of their remarks.

“Feisty today aren’t we, Y/N. I would’ve never expected such boldness from a filthy little mud blood.” Bellatrix said cackling again.

“Just leave me alone please.” My voice strained this time.

“You really do ruin all the fun, don’t you, Y/L/N? But before we go, I just have to ask, dear. Does our darling Padfoot still like to have his neck kissed? You know, just above that mole.” Ianthe tapped her finger to the side of her neck.

“You’re all sick.”

“Maybe but at least we don’t have dirty blood.”

My heart beat fast as I picked up my belongings from off the ground, desperately trying to get out of the library as quickly as possible. I ran through the corridors back toward Gryffindor tower, tears welling up in my eyes and slowly beginning to fall despite my best efforts to hold them back. I ran past the other students and back to my dormitory praying that it would actually be empty for once. It was not. Lily was sat on her bed reading a book when she looked up to see me tears running down my face while I tried to keep a cool demeanor. Her face cloaked in worry as she asked if I was okay, her words triggered a visceral reaction as I finally let myself break down in tears. She came over to me and brought me back to her bed and hugged me for a moment, stroking my back waiting until I was ready to speak.

After my sobs and sniffles had mostly come to a stop I recounted the entirety of what had happened in the library. Sharing the words exchanged between me and the three Slytherin girls and the doubt that now seeped into my mind. Lily fumed, her anger rising as she listened to me talk about what had happened.

“Y/N, you don’t actually believe that do you?” She asked, her face still cloaked with worry.

“I mean why shouldn’t I? She’s right, I’ve seen the way people look at us.”

“What does it matter what they think?”

“It’s not what they think, it’s the fact that they’re right. You know exactly how Sirius’ family is, I’m probably just another conquest to him. Girls like Ianthe were bred to marry boys like him, to protect their bloodlines. They’ve basically been betrothed since birth, Lily!”

“Sirius is his own person. He is not his family. You should know better than anyone that that boy lives to break rules. And I seriously doubt it but if he doesn’t appreciate how absolutely brilliant you are just because you were muggle born then he’s not worth your time.”

I knew Lily was right, it was rare that she wasn’t. But my mind still wandered to a dark place that echoed with Ianthe’s comments. She stayed with me for another hour or so before she got ready to go over to the Great Hall for dinner. I didn’t realize how long we had been sitting in the dorm. I looked over at the clock surprised to see it was almost 7. I promised Sirius I’d meet him in the astronomy tower soon. Surely I couldn’t face him after what had just happened but my heart hurt thinking about standing him up.

“You going to be alright?” Lily asked before heading out the door.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll see you later.” I reassured her.

“Alright, if you need anything just give a shout.”

I sighed as she closed the door and headed off. I looked down at my mascara stained sleeves and quickly changed into a clean shirt and wiped away the smeared makeup from beneath my eyes. Regardless of how I felt, I had to face Sirius.

I walked through the empty halls over to the Astronomy tower. Springtime at Hogwarts had an underrated charm to it. The weather was ideal, chill but not too cold. Tonight was no different, the air tonight was crisp, the wind blew gently through my hair as I made my way up the winding staircase. When I made it to the very top I saw Sirius gazing across the school grounds. His face looking intently over the beautifully crafted buildings and through the lush forests around us. I stayed silent for a minute just to admire him. The handsome playboy that I always thought I loathed but whom had somehow not only stolen my heart but had also become my best friend.

When he finally sensed my presence he turned around, my heart fluttered just looking at the kind, dopey smile wiped across his face as he held out his hand for me. When I grabbed it, he pulled me in close. My face buried into his chest as he held me for a minute. I looked behind him to see a blanket laid across the ground a small picnic set up for us.

“Remus helped me bribe the house elves into sneaking me some food so we could have dinner up here.” He excitedly motioned over to the set up.

“It looks lovely, Sirius.” I spoke softly as if my words could be broken with just a tap.

“What’s wrong? Oh Merlin, you hate it, don’t you?” He asked worriedly.

“No it’s not that, it really is lovely. I just, I just don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why you’re doing this for me. You’re a pureblood and I’m...I’m a mudblood.” I took a step away from him, letting go on my grasp on his hand.

“What does that have to do with anything? You know I’ve never cared about any of that.”

“You should be going out with someone like Ianthe, not someone like me. Most people when they see us must be thinking, ‘oh he must be mad going out with that.’”

“That what” he said before raising his voice to echo the question, “that what?”

“You know exactly what, Sirius. Everyone does.”

“What the fuck are you on about? What does everyone have to do with how I feel about you? You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t fancy. That’s mine and mine alone. Now are you going to stop being a git or what?”

“Stop calling me a git, you’re the git.” I said trying to shove him away but his hands grasped my wrists before I could make my move.

Before I could say another word he crashed his lips into mine. His hands now releasing his grip on my wrists and instead caressing my face. Sirius had kissed me many times before but never with such urgency, like his life depended on it. Like if he didn’t kiss me in this exact moment that he’d never get to again. My hands now pressed up against his chest pulling him in closer to me as I savored the taste of him until we were breathless.

“You’re the git.” I whispered as we pressed our foreheads together, he let out a small laugh at my comment before he spoke again.

“Those twats, they aren’t my family. You are.” His thumb caressing my cheek softly.

“Sirius, I just—“

“You are my family.” He said firmly cutting me off before I could finish my sentence.

“Okay, you say that now but I just hate the idea that you’re choosing me over them. I don’t want you to wake up one day and regret your choice and start to resent me forever. I mean they’re your family, Sirius.” I rambled as doubt still riddled my brain.

“Y/N, listen to me, I will always choose you. I choose you today, tomorrow, and I’ll choose you forever for the rest of our lives. You are the only thing in this entire world I care about.”

“Can I quote you on that?”

“Yes, just maybe not to James, Remus, and Peter. I think they might burst into tears.” He let out loud laugh as he responded to my question.

“I won’t lie, I’d like to see that.”

“I bet you would. Now can we please eat dinner, I paid off the house elves 10 galleons each just so that they would make your favorite!”



[imagine-this-fandom]

BNHA X Fem!Reader: The Rescue - Angry Pomeranian

The Rescue intro: Here

She gently placed Izuku into a glass cage before pulling you to a back door labeled "Dogs", the Golden retriever slipping in behind you before you closed the door.

Upon entering, you were greeted by lots of barking, the dogs obviously not using their indoor voices. You actually surprised by the variety back here. There was a husky, Pitbull, and even a German Shepard. The room was rather large and open for them to interact with potential owners, various dog toys strewn across the floor with the dog kennels to the back.

You expected Inko to take you to meet the bigger dogs, but were confused when she led you past them, instead stopping in front of a small tan puff ball in a corner who was absolutely destroying a dog toy, the smiling sun that used to adorn the front of it, now flopped over on a shred of fabric by your feet. It almost looked like a blizzard of its own had happened in the corner due to all the stuffing scattered around.

"Oh Bakugou, what have you gotten your paws on this time?"

Inko clicked her tongue and watched the Pomeranian pup continue to tear the stuffing out of a smiling sun patterned toy.

The sight made you a bit more hesitant. Was this really the dog she had in mind for you? An absolutely furious little ball of fluff?

He didn't seem to pay you any attention, content to work growl and tear into the toy until Inko reached down and picked him up, which sent him into a frenzied wiggle fit. He began to whine in outrage, upset seemingly with the audacity of Inko picking him up.

"Come now Bakugou, you need to behave! There's someone here to see you." She was all smiles and started to pet his head, the angry noises emitting from the dog lessening as he calmed down a fraction.

"Mrs. Midoriya, are you sure he's the right dog for me? He doesn't seem to like me very much..."

You eyed the dog hesitantly. While he was undeniably adorable, you were worried he wouldn't like you even after you started to take care of him.

"I think he just needs time to get to know you! He's a sweetheart once he's settled, even though he doesn't show it often. Really, he could do with someone like you in his life. From talking to you, I can tell you'll be perfect for the little scamp."

The dog had stopped wiggling and seemed to be assessing the situation. If you didn't know any better, you'd say it looked like he was listening.

You bit you lip and looked him over, weighing the options you had. Sure he'd be a handful, but... could you really say no to that face?. If what she said was true, maybe he just needed someone to be there for him. And you found that you really wanted to be that someone. Besides, pets have personalities too. Even if he was grumpy, you could love him regardless

Smiling, you nodded.

"I'll take him. "

Getting Bakugou to go home with you on a leash was an experience to say the least. He tugged like mad and actually tried to break the leash, biting and trying to rip it away. That didn't go all that well for him once he got outside though. The snowdrifts were as big as he was!

Laughing, you discovered that you would have to pick him up to continue home, seeing as you wouldn't get very far if you had to keep fishing him out of the deep snow. He was bound and determined, but you could tell he was getting annoyed with the cold piles.

He was the angriest creature you had ever seen in your life. If a snowflake came too close, he would snap at it and bark at every stray animal or movement he saw. You just shook my head with amusement. His temperament, while not ideal for most people, was starting to grow on you.

It was a relief to finally get back to your apartment and put him down. You let him roam the house and explore, getting used to his new environment as you set up the supplies you got from the store. You had gotten him some cool food and water dishes with flames designs on the outside. After finishing that up, you moved to your bedroom to place the dog bed that you had purchased for him. He had beaten you to your room though, which you discovered as you chanced a glance at your bed while arranging the small pet bed in the corner. Bakugou had already made himself at home on your bed. His ashy blonde fur standing out on the comforter as his crimson eyes followed your movements from his newly acquired high ground.

"Silly boy, that's my spot! You have a bed down here!"

His eyes narrowed as he took up a more defensive position.

"Down, Bakugou. Off the bed. Did you just growl at me?!"

Well... He did not look like he intended to move any time soon. While you were all for learning to deal with him, you were definitely not in the mood for dealing with a doggy temper tantrum. You conceded him this point, for now and left to prepare for bed.

You left and took a quick shower before slipping into some (f/c) pajamas. Stepping out into the bedroom, you stopped and snapped a quick photo. Bakugou had settled down on the bed and was sleeping. This was the most peaceful you had seen him so far.

Rather than risk picking him up and waking the angry mutt up, you instead shifted him slightly to the side and climbed under the covers on the other half of the bed. He looked up at you at the contact , obviously annoyed by being roused from his sleep, but not mad enough to do anything about it except give an angry huff and shift so his back was facing you. You smiled and cautiously reached out a hand to stroke his back. He seemed to stiffen up for a moment, but, he seemed too tired to really care, so you took it as the go ahead to continue. You pet him for a bit before reaching up and scratching behind his ears. He tensed again before melting against your touch, leaning into it. You carefully retracted your hand and yawned before turning the lights off, smiling at the silvery fur across from you in the moonlight.

"Goodnight Bakugou, sleep well, my little spitfire."

Progress was being made, and for that, you happy. You fell asleep with a content expression, optimistic for the days to come.

Bakugou was absolutely a handful. After that first night, he made it his mission to test you. Whether it was by breaking something while you were at work, or simply refusing to cooperate when on walks, he made it his mission to act out when anything slightly inconvenienced him. Spitfire was an apt name, considering how spirited he was, especially on walks. He'd become the local terror of the neighborhood. Regardless of his size, he was ferocious. Even some of the larger dogs were intimidated by him! He didn't allow any other creature to push him around, humans included.

Even with his resistance you continued to work with him, trying to find ways to calm him down. You wanted him to like you, to trust you. You started by working on your own reactions whenever something happened that set him off. Instead of getting upset at him, you got down to his level and spoke quietly, getting him to focus on you instead of whatever had triggered his outrage. He still had his outbursts, but they were slowly getting better.

He was still very particular about contact though, only really letting you pet him when he was tired, when his weariness outweighed his outrage. This led to a nightly routine of pets before both of you fell asleep. This would change though.

One night, after a particularly bad day of work, you stumbled in exhausted. You were absolutely dead on your feet as you dragged your tired body inside your apartment. Kicking off your shoes, you decided to forgo your usual yelled greeting to your dog and instead staggered into the living room and collapsed face first on the couch, muscles screaming from the stress of the day. You just stayed like that for a good five minutes before hearing the jangle of a dog collar headed your way.

Bakugou stopped in front of the couch and growled at you impatiently, seeming to not like this break in his routine. You really didn't have the energy to deal with his nonsense so you simply let your arm drop off the side, offering him your hand. This didn't appease him though, as he instead took the edge of your sleeve in his teeth and tried to tug you off the couch.

You shifted, turning your head so I could see him and hopefully stop his determined tugs.

"Bakugou, please. I can't right now, okay? We'll play tomorrow. Just... not tonight. I'm not doing well."

You expected some kind of backlash, maybe him barking his head off, or maybe he would go destroy something out of spite. What you got instead, was a lick on the back of your hand, and a fluffy head pushing against your side, urging you to make some room on the couch for him. Tiredly, you obliged, rolling onto your back so your tired gaze was now directed at the ceiling. Your brief view of the apartment ceiling was interrupted by a fluffy blonde head glaring down at you with red eyes. Bakugou had settled himself on your chest, paws resting just below your chin.

"Can I help you sir?"

He huffed, hot breath warming your chin and chest as he relaxed and laid his head on his paws, almost daring you to move and disturb him.

You smiled and pet his head, making sure to scratch him behind the ears. He never made it obvious, but he loved it when you pet his head. He just kind of melted, muscles going relaxed with his eyes drooping in happiness. You stayed like this for at least another hour before falling asleep, arm lazily thrown over the content pup. You were surprised to discover you slept the best you had in ages that night. Something about Bakugou being there to protect you just made relaxing so much easier. While he was small, he was fierce and wouldn't let anything happen to you under his watch.

After that night, Bakugou seemed to calm down a little. He was still your little spitfire, but he didn't shy away from your touch. If anything, he sought it out. He still got into loads of trouble and had gotten on your last nerve more times than you could count. But now he seemed more interested in you. He got upset when you didn't greet him when you came home and always made sure to stay in your vicinity when you were at home. He seemed protective of you now, and you couldn't help but love it. He let you cuddle him more too. Often, you began to invite him up on the couch next to you during movies, which quickly turned into an hour every day with Bakugou on your lap as you pet him and watched a show or movie. As this happened, you noticed he favored old hero footage, especially of Allmight. He went wild whenever the symbol of peace was shown on the screen.

"I can see why you like him, he's one of my favorite heroes too. Always there when people need him."

You smiled, petting the excited dog's head. Pleased to see his little tail going nuts.

"But who needs Allmight when I've got you around Bakugou? My brave little Hero! You're always here for me. Getting you was one of the best decisions of my life."

The dog seemed to stiffen, but you didn't pay him much mind, figuring he was just focused on the action playing on the screen. Although you noticed he was quiet for the rest of the evening. He was reserved and honestly, you were starting to get a little bit worried. You decided that you'd just take him to the park the next day, maybe that would cheer him up.

The next day, you stuck to your plan, waking up early to work on housework and make sure you had finished all your tasks for the day and could take Bakugou for a nice long romp at the park.

You were working in the kitchen when he made his way out to you after waking up, his claws clicking on the tile and letting you know he was coming.

"Hey spitfire, did you have a good sleep?" You grinned and looked down at the fluffy dog who was watching you quietly. You knelt from your spot at the stove and held up a piece of bacon you had saved from breakfast.

"Figured my good boy deserved a treat. This is for now, and then once I finish cleaning up, we're going to the park."

Your words seemed to excite him as he snatched the bacon and his tail went wild. You smiled and pet him before getting back to work on the kitchen, looking forward to taking a break and spending time outside with your little spitfire.

Once you were outside, Bakugou seemed to go back to his normal angry self. He trotted ahead of you as you walked, seeming to exude an aura of intimidation when it came to the other dogs. You knew he wouldn't approve if you said it aloud, but you thought it was adorable. You relaxed as you walked through the city, slowly finding your way to a vast park that Bakugou seemed to like. It had lots of room to run, but you didn't let him off leash often. While you trusted him, sometimes he couldn't help himself and would pick a fight with anyone he felt threatened by. This led to some close calls that made you decide he wouldn't be allowed off leash anytime soon.

Crossing the threshold onto the green grass, you gave a happy sigh, enjoying the change from pavement to grass. You were quickly drawn away from your peaceful moment as a dog came charging at you and Bakugou. A chihuahua that was off its leash was making a beeline for you and Bakugou was not having it for a second. He braced himself in front of you and gave a warning growl as a deterrent. The little dog was either deaf or stupid and you were not excited to see which as his attention was focused on Bakugou.

He got just a little too close before Bakugou lunged forward and gave him a warning nip on the leg. When the little dog did not back down, you had to make a split decision and scooped up your dog and ran the opposite way. You found shelter on a bench, just out of reach of the vicious little monster snapping at your feet to get at the outraged Pomeranian in your arms. Your little spitfire did not take kindly to anyone threatening him, but you weren't about to let the small dog take a chance to retaliate for the bite. After a few tense moments where you tried to work out a plan that didn't involve punting the attacking dog, its owner ran up, red faced and not in a good mood. Instead of immediately fetching her dog, she took one look at the situation and exploded on you instead.

"DID YOUR DOG BITE MY COCO?!"

You were stunned into silence for a moment, not able to process the audacity of the question directed at you from this angry middle aged woman.

"Yes, but it was in self defense! Your dog was coming right for him!" You protested, hoping an explanation would somehow help the woman's anger to subside. But unfortunately, she did not accept that her dog was the one to blame. She scooped up the still writhing devil dog and glared at Bakugou.

"That thing is a menace! You should but a muzzle on him! What if he had bitten a child?" She stared with unwarranted venom, her blunt and misfounded words thrown carelessly at you like daggers.

You didn't notice right away, but Bakugou had gone still at the mention of a muzzle, the word seeming to trigger something within him.

As the woman Walked away, you slid down to sit on the bench, taking a moment to collect yourself and recover from the emotionally draining encounter. When you looked down at Bakugou again it was because he was struggling in your arms.

"Hey bud, it's okay, they're gone now."

These words which you had meant for comfort only made him struggle more.

"Okay, okay! Sorry, I'll put you down."

You carefully set him on the ground but were taken by surprise when he started to sprint away. You gasped and took off after him, chasing after the leash he was trailing behind him as he made his escape.

"Bakugou! Get back here!"

While you were doing your best to keep up, he was doing his best to dodge you. He was ducking under bushes and darting around obstacles as he made his getaway. eventually, you ran out of steam and had to stop, breathing heavily as you tried to get some air back into your lungs. When you were finally able to breathe without black spots invading, Bakugou was nowhere in sight.

You were in panic, barely barely able to really process that he was gone. You quickly started walking again, cupping your hands around your mouth as you called for him. How could he have just run away? Something must have happened, he wouldn't have just left you, right? You just had to keep looking. You'd find him. You had to.

You searched until your throat was hoarse, long ago abandoning the park and now roaming the city as the sunlight started to fade. Logic said that you should go home, but there was no way you were going to leave Bakugou outside and alone. You loved him, and you needed to find him, hopefully before anything happened to him.

You staggered through the streets, voice quiet and strained as you hopefully looked for even just a hint of tan or the tell tale jingle of your collar. It was late, and as much as you loathed the thought of going home without him, you had begun to lose hope of finding him today. As you turned to head home, you ran into someone.

"I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going," You babbled, apologizing to the man. The guy glared at you before his whole demeanor changed as he looked you over. A dangerous look starting to form on his face that made unease rise within you.

"where are you going, sweetheart? Maybe I could walk you home. Come on, I know a shortcut." Before you could make a move, he had grabbed your arm and dragged you into a side ally, cornering you against the brick, his other hand going right over your throat

"Alright pretty girl, I want you to empty out that purse for me. And if you so much as scream, you'll regret it."

You dared not disobey, any chance of resistance fading as he showcased his quirk. His smirk was as sharp as the knives now protruding from his fingers, sharp and glinting in the limited moonlight, poised over your throat m. Being quirkless, you didn't have much choice.

Trembling, you began to slowly reach for your bag keeping your eyes focused on him, not wanting to surprise the man and cause him to stab you. He was beginning to tap his foot impatiently.

You fumbled with the zipper, horrified to find that it was stuck.

"What's the hold up, get it open!"

He had pressed forward, blades nicking your skin.

"I-i't's stuck! I can't get it open! "

"Not good enough, girlie" He growled, jabbing your side with one of his blade fingers.

You cried out in pain and struggled to get the bag open to avoid another injury. If you weren't so preoccupied with the pain and panic, you would have heard a pop from the top of the alleyway. While you didn't hear that, you absolutely heard what came next.

An enraged scream tore through the alleyway and your captor was torn away from you. Your mind was having problems processing the scene though. Your attacker was being pummeled by.... A blonde naked guy. When the criminal tried to get back up, the blondie created an explosion with his hands, sending the villain flying with a bright flash of light. He righted himself and turned tail.

"WHERE THE **** DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?! I'LL KICK YOUR ***!!"

The blonde yelled after him. And it looked like he would have to, if your legs didn't take that moment to give out on you. You sunk to the ground with a loud thump which drew the blonde man's attention.

His expression softened a little as he looked back at you, moving to crouch next to you. He was quite intimidating. His brows were turned down in an angry expression and his eyes were an unusual shade of red. You pressed yourself back against the wall, leaning away from the strange man.

"Oi, dumb***, what the **** are you doing out here? It's dangerous."

You swallowed nervously before speaking, keeping your eyes trained on his face as a blush crept across your cheeks. You would have answered, except you were interrupted by a throbbing pain in your side, the adrenaline and shock from blondie's appearance distracting you from your wounded side. You cried out in pain and clutched it in a vain attempt to get it to stop.

The man noticed your struggles and cursed under his breath before scooping you up in his arms.

"Wait! What are you doing?! Put me down!"

"Stop struggling, dumb***, I'm trying to get you home!"

He set a quick pace, holding you close to his bare chest. It was unnerving, but he knew exactly where he was going. It wasn't long before you were stopped in front of your apartment door.

You shakily went to unlock the door, but the man took the keys from your unsteady hands and unlocked the door, bringing you inside. He set you on the couch, careful of your side.

"W-who are you? How did you know where I live?"

You watched him curiously. As much as he should have scared you, this strange man made you feel safe. He handled you with such care.

He scoffed, heading to the bathroom and returning with the first aid kit.

"It's Bakugou, dumb***. Now shut up and rest, you're injured."

You looked pointedly at the ceiling as he worked on your side.

"What do you take me for an idiot? Who are you really? Some weirdo stalker?"

He growled in annoyance and flicked your forehead before sitting back and looking over his handiwork.

"That should do for now. Stay put, I'm going to go find some clothes."

The audacity of this man. You were confused and tired, and in pain and just wanted to wake up from this nightmare and see your little Pomeranian waiting for you.

You must have dozed off, because when you woke up, it was to colorful swear words coming from the kitchen. You sat up, rubbing your eyes as you started to remember your memories from the night before.

The blonde man who claimed to be your dog was in the kitchen, wearing a pair of sweatpants and one of your oversized t shirts. He appeared to be cooking.

You tried to get up and wobbled uncertainly over towards him. When he noticed, his angry expression seemed to fade away one of... fondness? The expression didn't last for long though as it quickly shifted to annoyance.

"What the **** were you doing out so late last night?! You could have been killed!"

You frowned and glared at him.

"I had to find Bakugou!I love him, I couldn't just leave him out there, he could have been hurt, or in trouble! "

He tensed, staring at you with wide eyes seemingly caught off guard by your outburst. He Gaped for a moment or two or before groaning and running a hand down his face.

"You really are so stupid, (y/n). The goal of running was so that you wouldn't find me. I didn't expect you to stay out and look for me like an idiot."

He huffed and stepped forward, trapping you against the counter with his palms braced on the counter top on either side of you. It was then that you noticed something that had somehow escaped your detection the night before. A red and black flame patterned collar was fastened around his neck.

You were struck silent for a moment before your palm made contact with his face with a resounding slap.

"WHAT THE ****, CRAZY LADY?!"

He reeled back, looking at you with shock as you glared at him.

"Me? What the **** is wrong with you? Why'd you take off on me at the park? You had me worried sick, jerk!"

He seemed to pout as he nursed his sore cheek.

"You were going to put a muzzle on me..."

You softened, anger fizzling out at his uncharacteristically quiet tone.

"Bakugou... You have to believe I wouldn't do that to you. You've always been my little spitfire, I would never do that to you. That lady was out of line, if anyone deserved a muzzle, it was her crazy little demon of a dog."

You smiled softly, stepping forward into his space, your hands going to cup his cheeks, tilting his face down so you could look into those intense red eyes that were so familiar.

"You're my hero Bakugou, I wouldn't change you for the world."

His hands came to rest over your own hands, his pleasantly warm against your skin. He seemed to be deep in thought. You just enjoyed the tender moment, watching him realize that you meant every word. Something clicked and then he was leaning in. Before you knew it, he was kissing you. And then you were kissing him back, never feeling more safe than when his arms moved to circle around your waist, pulling you against him.

After a moment, you pulled away, a breathless smile taking over your face.

"I love you Bakugou, I hope you know that."

He gave a cheeky smirk and pressed another quick kiss to your lips.

"And I guess I love you too, even if you're a dumb***"

You huffed in annoyance. This was going to take some getting used to, but honestly? You didn't really mind the challenge.

[degeneratekitten]

The reeducation of a King

!!!WARNING!!! Read the tags before continuing. If any of the tags upset you then you probably wont like it when it happens in the story.

This story was one of the first asks I got, I started it, but never finished, so here we go.

The woman in front of you looked incredibly tired. She had bags under her eyes, her skin was pale, and she looked like she was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Truthfully you had yet to even inform her that the King Lamia she had rescued off the street was classified more as a hunting type bitty. She’d been under the assumption, like many people who came to you with rescues, that all bitties could be kept like pets.

“So he’s gotten possessive of you, and he started trying to control your life?” You questioned making sure that you’d gotten her story straight.

“Yes!” She sighed, looking almost on the verge of tears. “I had to slip tranquilizers in his food so I could come here! He goes absolutely berserk if I leave his sight for even a moment, and he refuses to let me decide where we go!” She cried, soundly more and more like an abused spouse than a distraught pet owner. To be fair, this was an abusive relationship, one you would be more than willing to remedy. “He also always tries to tell me what kind of underwear I should wear and gets mad when I don't wear them!”

“That's very troubling.” You nodded, before inquiring about an important question. “How was it that he got so much control over you?”

The woman opened her mouth to answer only to snap her mouth shut again in a frown. She didn't seem to have an answer.

“I… I can't remember…” She mused, before continuing. “I guess I didn't realize it at first, but over time he just got worse and worse, and somehow he convinced me that it would all be ok if I did this, or that. He started getting threatening, baring his teeth whenever I even suggested doing something he didn't want. I was afraid he’d somehow escape his cage at night and kill me, so I just did what he wanted. I figured this was just a part of rescuing bitties. It wasn't until last week when he started to demand I stop seeing my mother that I realized how weird everything was. He’s a pet, not a boyfriend, and I won’t be controlled by a pet!” She stated, seeming to come to a firm resolution in her own mind.

You nodded at her. “I see, so I think I know how this all started. “ You smiled, giving the woman a look that seemed to calm her down.

“What?” She asked, fully invested in what you were going to say.

“You see, bitties are separated into two different types, ones that are pets, and others that are meant for more, violent situations. Lamia’s with venom are generally meant to be either guards, or exterminators. Your King is the former. His breed was designed to protect an owner, staying vigilant for all threats both physical and mental. Where this all went wrong is because your King was born and bred in the wild, where a lot of the original designs and personalities of bitties have changed.” The woman looked incredibly interested in what you were saying. Fully invested and curious, you loved customers like this.

“So his idea of protection involves being controlling?” She asked just waiting for you to elaborate.

“Yes and no. His ideas about protection are skewed more in favor of breeding. If he has a partner he has to hide them away so they can't get taken by another bitty or human. He has to provide everything for them then, food, shelter, warmth, stimulation, everything. The problem with a lot of bitties in recent generations is that their predisposition to be reliant on humans still applies even when they’re experiencing sexual urges. They expect and crave for their human owners to satisfy them sexually alongside everything else.” You watched as the woman's face twisted in disgust.

“Wait, so you’re saying that hes trying to fuck me?” She yelled, grossed out and shivered slightly. 

“In short, yes, he wants to fuck you.” You deadpanned watching as the woman hugged herself.

“That's so messed up!” She exclaimed, which made you chuckle.

“I agree, but magic is weird, and magical constructs with origins like bitties are even weirder. But anyways, there is a way to fix this. A way to uncross his wires so to say, and make him desire other bitties rather than you. Which in turn should ease a lot of the behavior towards you. After I do that he should be more receptive to my traditional training in learning how to act more in line with the original king lamia’s.” You finished, watching as relief seemed to wash over the woman.

“So what needs to be done to uncross those wires?” She asked, to which you chuckled. 

“Get him a mate.” You stated watching as the woman seemed to balk a little at how simple your answer was.

“Wait! It's that simple?! I could have done that myself.” She asked sitting up straight, shocked and a little giddy at the prospect. You laughed with her.

“Well, kind of, unfortunately if you get involved in the process and give him a new mate, he’d take it as a sign that he needs to fight the other bitty to mate with you. It’s better to let a third party do the introduction.”

“Oh… Well, if it gets him to stop wanting to fuck me I’m more than willing.” She smiled, seeming to realize that a huge weight was being lifted from her shoulder.

“So when can we start?” She added, looking at you with hope.

“Well first we have to pick out a new mate.”

-----

You’d gone over potential mates and your rates with the woman for the rest of the visit. You’d mentioned that a cherry would probably be best for the King, as they were incredibly meek and in need of the amount of attention that this particular King was ready to give, plus they weren't lamia so the chance of breeding while already small, was nearly impossible. The woman was excited over the idea, as she wanted a pet who was easier to cuddle with as opposed to her King who she had to keep far away from her sleeping arrangements. 

You’d made sure to explain fully to her why although she had the best of intentions, King’s were not traditionally pets, and she needed to treat him accordingly. She could keep him as part of her family and give him a better home off the streets, but she needed to be careful not to let him take charge of her life anymore as next time he probably would kill her. She ended up taking this to heart, nodding her head as you led her to the door. 

“I’ll make sure I read more on how I’m supposed to handle him.” She promised, leaving in her car. You’d set a date for that weekend to go and pick up the King, you needed a few days to get a suitable cherry and set up an area in which you could do everything that needed to be done.

---

Meeting the King in question, Moriarty, as he had aptly named himself, was an occasion that was sure to be violent. You had a thick jumpsuit on, with extra layers covering your arms and legs, combat boots your husband had bought you just for these situations, and heavy duty handling gloves on so he couldn’t bite you. You had some safety goggles on as well in case he tried to spit at you, and even your neck was covered by a long collar from your jumpsuit. You didn't take any chances with violent venomous lamia’s especially ones who had reason to believe that you were a threat. You’d nearly lost your brother that way when he’d insisted on trying to calm a venomous lamia without gear. He’d been in the hospital for two weeks and aptly served as yet another reminder that protection bitties were not to be taken lightly.

Your husband was dressed beside you in a similar getup, and he had insisted on taking at least one Squadron bitty with the two of you, said bitty was currently standing at military attention waiting for you to give him orders. He wore camo like most squadron bitties, with a black shirt, ripped off sleeves, a pair of smaller dog tags and miniature combat boots and a knife. He didn't have his ecto flesh summoned so his outfit was a little baggy. His dark green eyelights were focused on you, while his arms were situated behind his back.

You had planned to use magic if things got too bad, but it was always good to have a backup plan.

Squadrons were very similar to Edgies in terms of vocabulary and humor, the only real difference being that they were never overtly hostile to anyone outside of combat. They made dirty jokes all the time and cursed like sailors, but never called you cunt or assface unless they were set out to kill you.

“I’ll need you to stay outside until we give you a signal.” You said to the bitty, watching as he gave a toothsome grin and saluted you in response.

“Just gimmie da signal an I’ll rip em up ma'am.” He replied, forgoing his usual vulgar vocabulary in lieu of a more respectful tone. He gave you a nod as well to tell you not to worry about him and you turned towards your husband with a pleased expression.

“You said this is your best one so far? I’m impressed! He didn't even cuss at me!” You praised watching your husband's face light up.

“Yeah, he used to cuss more than the others but I straightened him out real quick, nothing a little friendly competition couldn't solve.”

Chuckling you turned your attention back towards the door again, and steeling yourself for the worst you knocked on the door. Hopefully she’d managed to tranquilize her king.

“Hello! We’re here today for Miss Shelby! We’re here to pick up the package like we discussed yesterday.

“*GASP* MOTHER! HOW DARE YOU! I TOLD YOU NOT TO GO OUTSIDE! YOU DISOBEYED ME!” You heard the loud, unmistakable shriek of the problematic bitty then a mumble in response before there was a loud crash and the shriek of a woman. Worried that maybe the King had gotten more violent, you tested the doorknob, relieved to find it unlocked.

“Hello, Miss Shelby! I’m coming in!” You shouted, before bursting into the home.

What you saw caused adrenaline to surge through you.

The king in question was wrapped tightly around Shelby’s arm, hood spread out,tail swishing agitated, and teeth bared. He was on the verge of attacking.

Looking at Shelby you could tell how nervous, how terrified she was as she stared at the King’s teeth. You noticed that a plate of noodles lay shattered on the floor.

“Oh thank god.” Shelby breathed out, relieved to see you.

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE! BARGING IN HERE! MOTHER TELL THEM TO LEAVE!” The king hissed, moving itself so he was partially wrapped around Shelby’s neck, he had placed himself right next to Shelby’s ear with his teeth still bared and from what you could tell, his fangs were already secreting venom. He was very ready to bite.

“M-m-m-mori! She’s a guest, I invited her over for dinner!” Shelby tried to explain, earning herself a shriek in the ear.

“I DIDN'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR THAT! WE AREN'T ACCEPTING COMPANY! TELL HER TO LEAVE!” Moriarty screeched, tail seeming to tighten around her neck.

Shelby moved to try and loosen the tail only to earn a menacing hiss from the king, your eyes widened a bit as you tried to think of the best course of action. 

Moving towards her would probably cause him to tighten his grip, talking could yield good results but with how agitated he was it would probably only buy you time before he bit her. Maybe if you challenged him he would take the bait, but you couldn't do that if you wanted him to respond to you in training.

Suddenly you were incredibly glad that your husband had insisted on bringing a squadron bitty. The king would probably never see it again, and it would leave you in a neutral position from which to train the king.

You clicked your tongue at the king, not making any sudden movement, he hissed at the sound, and seemed to be hyper focused on you, before its attention snapped to the door, as a bulked up squadron bitty stormed in.

“The fuck is this cunt ordering ya round for!?” The squadron bitty bellowed, he was still minimal size, but you yourself knew better than to underestimate him.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS! LEAVE MY TERRITORY AT ONCE INSOLENT CRETIN!” The King hissed, attention snapping to the other bitty.

Shaking your head, you looked at the little squadron bitty and gave a firm order. “Nothing crazy.” You stated, watching as he frowned in displeasure.

“Fuckin fine. Yer not a lot a fun are ya.” He stated as he stepped forward, chest puffing out as he readied himself for a fight.

“FIGHT ME BITCH!” He screeched out simply at the king, using the most direct way in which to challenge the king.

Taking the bait immediately, the King slithered down in front of his owner, hood spread, and fangs dripping poison. You took a step back, and whispered at Shelby to slowly back away.

There wasn't much of a fight, the King lunged and ended up shot by a tranquilizer as the Squadron bitty jumped out of the way for your husband to get a clear shot of the King’s hood. 

You’d had these instant magic tranquilizers well before the pure bite incident, but they simply did not work on large bitties, they were meant for smaller bitties, and were tested extensively to work instantly said bitties. 

There was no need for an actual fight, and really the simplest solutions were generally the best. You nodded at the Squadron bitty, as he immediately made to restrain the King bitty and brought him over to you, where you put a special muzzle on its skull. After which the squadron dragged it by the tail to a pre-prepared cage.

Having completed your business, you turned towards Shelby, noticing how shocked she seemed. It wasn't uncommon, people tended to be shocked when the people, or “pets” in this instance, that had been tormenting them were taken down. You took the lead, grabbing a shock blanket that you had also, prepared ahead of time and wrapping it around her.

“Do you want me to call someone for you?” You asked, as you secretly examined her for any bites or cuts. Luckily the only injuries she had were bruises from where the king had squeezed her arm too tightly.

Shelby nodded dumbly at you, before grabbing her phone and scanning her finger to unlock it. “Could you… Call my mother… I was too scared to have her over before.” She said, then plopping down in a nearby seat.

You nodded at her. “I’ll wait with you until she gets here.” You said, before pressing the call button on the phone.

---

The very first step in rehabilitating the King wasn’t to immediately jump into training. It was a little different from that. You’d brought your client over after she’d calmed down in order for her to pick out one of the Cherries you’d set aside for the King. You’d set aside 5 of them, not that it really made much of a difference as they were all crying at the prospect of meeting someone new. Most bitties were identical, luckily there were” some notable differences between these cherries, mutations weren’t always bad.

The customer came in, and almost immediately grimaced at the crying Cherries. You’d warned her that they were high maintenance pets, but also assured her that with a King around a lot of the more intolerable aspects would almost certainly be enjoyed by the King.

She did however warm up to the Cherries after a little play time, and after finding out that one of the Cherries enjoyed eating literally ANYTHING, she picked that one in a heartbeat. She stated that she loved cooking new things and someone to enjoy new things with was something she struggled with.

After that she bonded for a short while, she left, she had wanted to hear the cherry say “mommy” before leaving but you insisted that that was a TERRIBLE idea.

After she left, you shoved a heat inducing gummy down a screaming Cherries throat and quite literally threw him into the pen with the King. If you heard hysterical pleas for help, and screams to “shut up slut.” You ignored them, that would sort itself out naturally.

---

You monitored the situation between the King and Cherry loosely. It went exactly as you expected it to. The King violently fucked the Cherry, while the Cherry simultaneously cried for more and pleaded for it to stop at the same time. 

By the end of the week long fuck fest there were no more pleas for stopping, only begging for more. Until finally, the King had firmly marked the Cherry as its own, and was holding it close and whispering as sweet of compliments as it could muster. The Cherry was crying, as usual, but at the offer of food it had accepted the King as its mate. 

You waited another week, allowing the King to thoroughly fuss over the Cherry and fuck away its excess of aggression, before entering the pen. You entered with food, eyeing the King to make sure he didn't pounce. He has significantly calmed down, instead of hissing and threatening he stared at you warily while he held his wide eyed mate close. You set the food down, and nodded.

“I see you enjoy the mate I’ve prepared for you.” You stated, watching as the King’s head tilted to the side as he questioned the implications of that statement.

You left before he could question you. Letting the tranquilizers in the food take effect before you went to collect your newest project.

---

The King awoke in a cage alone while a hysterical Cherry cried as it reached out to him from a cage opposite of him.

You didn't have gloves on as you opened the cage of the Cherry, and you would never admit to smiling at the reaction of the King as you roughly handled the Cherry.

“RELEASSSSSSE MY MATE AT ONCE INSSSSSOLENT HUMAN!” He hissed, utterly incensed at the handling of his new mate. You shook your head, and placed the Cherry on a table, he cowered into your hand, hiding his face as he reached for his mate, but at the same time he still recognized you as a human to trust, you’d bottle fed him after all.

“Ppp-please I want to be with Mori.” He pleaded with you hugging your thumb as his tears colored the edge of his sockets.

You replied softly. “I know, but we have to correct some of his behavior first.” You replied as you shook him off.

He landed on his behind, more tears welling up in his eyes. Before you grabbed a shock collar, and placed it around the neck of the Cherry.

“What’s this’ moAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!” You wasted absolutely no time in shocking the Cherry, watching as its tears pooled on the table, and pissed soaked down its bare legs. The king had thoroughly destroyed any clothing that had been on the Cherry in its vigor. You could make out the small cuts on its form, the first few days had been incredibly rough in terms of sex, not enough to kill the Cherry, but certainly enough that you wondered why it wasnt terrified of the King.

The Cherry flopped on the table, while you looked at the King who’s hood was spread as he hissed, spit and thrashed about in his cage. It was bolted down so there was no way for him to tip it, but it was still quite the sight.

Nodding in satisfaction you placed the sobbing Cherry back in his cage across from the King, where he reached out desperately towards the Cherry intent on comfort, even if that wasn’t his strong suit.

“RELEASSSSE ME AT ONCCCCE! I MUSST COMFORT MY MATE!” He screeched at the same time trying to thrash his tail to strike out at you.

“No comfort will come to your Cherry until we have fixed your behaviors.” You hummed, as you pulled on thick arm coverings and gloves. You approached the King’s cage and unlatched it, grasping around the King’s throat as he attempted to bite your outstretched hand through the gloves. A calculated move in order to direct him as you pleased. 

You wrestled with the King for a while, rolling your eyes and smashing him against the table as he refused to loosen his bite. The King went limp for just a moment while you strapped him to the table with special restraints. His skull wasn't even cracked as you’d gone easy on him, it also helped that his breed was tougher than the pet variety. 

Being strapped down by his neck made the king easier to handle, even when he snapped out of his daze and began to thrash again, this time though without the threat of fangs. It was easy for you to pin down his tail and arms down long enough to strap them to the table. 

This was all just a show of force, to prove that she could do whatever she wanted to his mate, and he could do nothing about it. She needed him as violent as possible in response to threats to his mate, she needed him to stall in relation to his street taught values, if only so she could delete them.

You finished strapping him to the table, and picked up the remote to your mini shock collar, pausing for a moment and wondering if you should maybe start with pulling teeth first. However you needed a far more compliant King than you had currently, and it helped that the Cherry’s cries were beginning to grate on your nerves.

Looking over at the Cherry you sighed, it was still crying, smelly and pitiful as it cowered in the corner furthest from you and the King, too petrified of the violence to move. You waved the button in front of the king who hissed at the sight.

“DO NOT HARM MY MATE YOU WORTHLESSSSSS HUMAN!” He screeched, as you shook your head and pressed the button. As expected the sight of his mate in pain sent him into a frenzy, he spit, while you mocked him for his inability to do anything. You approached the cage of the Cherry intent on subduing the King in the most effective way possible.

“NOOOOOOO!” The King continued to screech. While the Cherry recovered from the shock cowered and begged for you not to hurt him. Of course, that wouldn't happen.

You carefully took the soiled Cherry out of his cage once more, and placed him next to the King, the King seemed to calm as the Cherry strained for its mate. You let them reunite for a moment, if only to grab a bitty sized dental gag and pry the King's mouth open. Once successful, despite the Cherry’s begging. You once more picked up the Cherry, and placed his hand into the King’s mouth, before carefully pricking him with the King’s fangs. 

The unholy screech of the King was nothing like the ones before. His venom was incredibly effective, and on a creature as small as the Cherry its effect was seen immediately. 

Pale faced and beginning to flush redder than normal, the Cherries tears became more frantic. He blubbered the same as normal as he tried to free himself from your grasp. Plopping him next to the King you pressed the button of the shock collar again and held. Looking the King straight in the eyes as it began to cry red tears. There was no understanding past the dental gag. But you knew well enough what was going on. A sinister smile graced your lips as you turned away from the king, taking the Cherry with you as you left the room. As far as the King knew, his mate was dead, dead by its own hand.

---

You returned shortly, having cured the Cherry from the King’s venom and stalled it in order to erase its memory of the training. Standard practice for once a bitty had been fully trained, the training would remain while the memory did not, no risk of blabbing to customers who really had no idea what was happening. It was necessary as while you trained the King the Cherry would bond with its new mother.

The King was still sobbing as you returned, and you used the lack of struggle to your advantage.

“It's a shame he had to die because of you.” You egged on, watching as the King seemed to deflate even further. You took that moment to put on your gloves and remove the restraints. The King didn't attack, and your smile was as venomous as the King as you removed the dental gag.

“WHY?” The King asked, and you couldn't help but chuckle, as you started to stroke its head soothingly, as you spit out harsh words. “That's because you are a bad bitty. A horrible protector.” The king flinched at that but immediately you turned it around. “But still so brave, and handsome.” Of course, the contrary information stilled the King, stalling him, and allowing you to reach for his AI, and stroke it. His eyelights buzzed a little, as you wiped away his need to monopolize his mate, his “charges.” There was of course more work to be done, but he would be too grief stricken to struggle. Just the way you needed him. You supposed it was about time to pull out some teeth.

---

By the time your bitty behavioral therapy was done, the King was a model example of a protection bitty. He was still a horribly bossy creature, but he no longer insisted on isolating his charges or displayed sexual desires outside of for his mate. He focused entirely on “protecting” and only grew violent when there was sufficient threat.

Meanwhile, the Cherry had not stopped crying for his mate until he met his new mother. He was of course still sad, but as most pet variety bitties are ought to do, the introduction of a new mommy or daddy tends to cheer them up instantly. Which was good, as the Chery, newly dubbed Sebastian, had sufficient time to bond with his new mother without the interference of a mate. The client learned easily to care for a Cherry, while also undergoing coaching from the rancher in order to be an effective King owner. 

On the day that the King was to return to his owners care. The owner had been nervous, she had lost confidence in owning bitties, and while Sebastian had helped, it still did not erase the nervousness she felt even after 2 months.

“I’m not sure about taking him back.” She stated, holding the Cherry close to her heart, he was as usual, teary eyed, but at the words of his owner, he burst into hysterics.

“Nooo!!! Mommy please I want Mori back! Please let me see Mori!” He begged, rubbing his snot covered face into her shirt. The owner seemed to deflate at this, and sighed, rubbing her Cherries back in reassurance. While you marveled at the fact that he was still suffering from some sort of stockholm syndrome.

“We’ll just have to see for now.” She said, and looked at you for reassurance. 

“You really don't have to worry.” You replied, voice chipper. “He’s nothing like he was before, you’ll be safer with him now than you would be without. He’s a model King, the perfect guard for any home.” You made your way towards the back noting the wariness of your client, but you stood by what you said, Moriarty was a model King, with all the coaching you’d given Shelby there was no reason to worry anymore.

Making your way into the back you spotted Moriarty in his enclosure, he was sunning himself as you approached. There was no sign of pulled teeth, skinned tails, or broken bones anywhere on him, and he only flinched slightly at the sound of your voice.

“Your mothers ready to see you now.” You sang watching the King light up and practically shoot to your outstretched arm. He curled himself around your arm, vibrating with anticipation at the prospect of seeing his mother again. You hummed in satisfaction as you made your way back to where Shelby was waiting.

The Cherry fell to the floor as he threw himself out of his mothers arms, he fell with a thwack, chanting Mori as he ran to you. The King very nearly pounced at the Cherry, he had tears in his eyes and seemed shocked and elated to see his mate. Although the Cherry's supposed ‘death’ had been erased from his mind he still had thought his mate dead, thus the tears. Before he could rush to his mate you held your hand up. “Stop.” You commanded, preventing the King who was practically vibrating from going to his mate. He was restless and voiced his immense displeasure. “YOU MUST LET ME GO SEE IF MY MATE IS HARMED!” He practically screeched into your ear, but still stayed still, causing Shelby’s eyes to widen in shock. She would have never imagined that the previously unruly and violent King would become so obedient, even if he was still incredibly bossy.

The Cherry at your feet practically hugged your leg as he cried and pleaded for his mate to come to him, you stopped walking forward before your punted him across the room, and smiled warmly at Shelby even as Moriarty squirmed on your shoulders as he looked between his mate and his mother, frustration growing as he stayed put, as you were gesturing for him to.

The cries of the Cherry became background noise as you spoke to Shelby. “As you can see, he’s fully trained now. All you need to do is handle him like I taught you and he’ll respond appropriately.”

“YOU MUST LET ME DOWN NOW!” The king snapped, as he crossed his arms, still waiting for permission. Nothing could change his bossy tone, but he still could be trained to behave.

Your customer sputtered for a bit, before she seemed to snap out of it. “Oh… Um… Yes… Come here.” She said, and gestured with her hands as you’d taught her for her previously unruly King to come.

The response was instant, he practically lept from your arm, disregarding the Cherry, albeit patting him on the head as he passed, and basically leapt into the outstretched hand that his ‘mother’ had out for him. He practically purred at the contact with his ‘mother’, nuzzling her arm affectionately as he hugged her arm, shocking her while at the same time earning a smile.

“I AM VERY CROSS WITH YOU MOTHER! YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW MUCH I MISSED YOU!” The King stated, holding on firmly to his mothers arms as he stared longingly at the crying Cherry that was running and trying to climb up his mothers leg.

“I can see that.” She answered, smile wide and tears coloring the side of her eyes.

“NOW I MUST INSIST THAT WE COMFORT MY MATE!” He screeched, looking down at Sebastian with longing. Which in turn caused his owner to laugh and reach down to pick up the crying Cherry.

“There we go, the whole family’s together, Sebastian, Moriarty and mommy!” She cried, sniffling as Moriarty kissed the forehead of his crying mate.

“Thank you so much!” She cried, as she walked over to you and shook your hand. “I can’t believe how much he’s changed! Thank you! I can’t thank you enough!” 

Grinning ear to ear, you replied. “Really, it was my pleasure.”

[cuddly-dean-baby]

The Winchesters’ Zombie Apocalypse

With a scavenge gone wrong, Dean has to do something he never thought he’d have to do.

Pairings: Dean x F!Reader x Sam Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader (you), Bobby Winchester (child), Garth, Dixon (dog - German Shepherd), Ellen (mentioned), Jo (mentioned), Jack (mentioned) Genre (smut, fluff, angst): Fluff, angst AU: Zombie Apocalypse Words: 2,050

This awesome idea was made by @negans-lucille-tblr  This is my entry for @spnsecretsantaficexchange​ ​  For my Secret Santa person, I have gotten @snapplejaxs​​ I hope you like it

Storming into the cabin, you angrily peel off your bloodied flannel to throw it against the backrest of a seat at the dining table. “Fucking idiots! I told you not to follow me into the store! I fucking had it.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me, Dean. I’m gonna go take a shower, then I’m gonna go out for a walk.” 

Doing as you said, you walk past your husbands and into your shared bedroom to grab a pair of clean clothes and into the bathroom. Your German Shepherd, Dixon, had followed you into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

“I feel like one of us should go with her on her walk, just to keep an eye on her.”

“She has Dixon, Sam.”

Nothing is said, silence filling the air except for the faint noise of the shower.

Footsteps are then made on the porch. Small, fast ones coming towards the door before it swings open to show a little boy. “Hey, Bobby,” greeted Sam as he bent down and picked up the four year old. “Papa.”

“Where’s Daddy?” Bobby points at Dean next to them, making the eldest Winchester smile and bump his nose against their son’s. One of his small, chubby hands rests against Dean’s stubbly cheek.

With the three not noticing, you’re leaning against the door frame and smiling at the scenery, wishing that you could snap a picture of them. “Hey, Garth,” your voice had given the Winchester brothers a fright, their eyes on you before looking at your best friend.

“Hey, guys. Thought I’d drop off a little someone.” He points at your son, who’s reaching out to you. “Thank you, Garth.” You take Bobby into your arms from Sam’s.

“Better get back to Bess and the kids, see you later.”

Saying goodbye to him, you turn back ‘round to your husbands. “I’m gonna go take a walk, wanna come? Obviously we’ll leave Bobby here, see if Ellen and Jo can look after him.” You nuzzle your nose against your son’s cheek before blowing a raspberry against it, making him squeal and flail his arms around, his hands now cupping your face.

“Hi, baby.” He starts to rub his nose against yours before stuffing his face against your neck. 

Both my babies, Dean had thought to himself, smiling at his wife and son.

Walking through an abandoned town, Dixon by your side, the brothers are trailing behind you. Dean has been kicking a can since you have entered the town. Then Dixon gets into an attack position, having you three raise your guns.

“Split up.”

“What?” Sam and Dean ask in unison.

“Do it.”

Groans and moans fill the air, rotted bodies shuffled into view. “(Y/N)!” Dean tries to go after you, but Sam grabs his arm to pull him back. They watch you run in front of the herd. It got closer with gunshots going off, the idea of the herd getting you makes Sam scared.

“Come on.” Dean pulls at his arm to have them walk into a store to hide.

Feeling his chest tighten and his breathing quicken, Sam tries to calm himself down. Sometimes Dean was able to help him through his panic attacks, taking longer than you, but you were the one that was able to stop them and comfort and calm the youngest Winchester.

“D-Dean,” he managed to breathe out. Dean is immediately in front of him, reassuring him that you’re gonna be fine. “I-I can’t b-breathe.”

Dean instructs him to try and slow his breathing. “She’s out there on her own and for all we know she could be dead as it seems like she used all her bullets,” Sam started to ramble and continued to do it before he got cut off by his older brother’s arms wrapping around him and bringing him in for a hug.

“She’ll be okay.”

Hours have passed to have the sky darkened and the brothers had gone to the spot where you had fired your gun. Small dots of blood trailed off in front of them with a piece of your shirt ripped on the ground.

“We gotta go back home.”

Bobby is seated in Sam’s lap, head on his chest and Sam’s arms wrapped around the small body of his son. “Where’s Mama and Dixon?” He looks up at Sam, one eye green and the other hazel.

“Mama and Dixon are still out, they’ll be here soon.” Sam answers, hoping that it’s true and that soon enough, you’ll be home.

Barking towards the cabin, Bobby is the first to swing the door open and run across the porch, down the steps and towards where he heard the barks. His fathers are right behind him.

Bobby starts to pet Dixon, Sam standing with them. Dean had stopped in front of them, trying to find you.

Luckily, no one really had thought much of the barking as they were kinda used to it. But if it was constant and no one was able to stop them, then that’s a sign for something dangerous.

Dean had finally spotted you limping towards the four, himself running to you and bringing your blood-stained body against his, himself not caring about the crimson liquid staining his clothes.

“Mama!” Bobby runs towards you, Sam fast-walking to you to do the same thing Dean had done.

“We were so fucking worried, we were about to have a search party for you, sweetie,” Sam leans his forehead against yours.

“You had a panic attack,” is the first thing you said, despite what Sam just said. “Dean calmed me down.”

Once back inside the cabin, you’re in the bathroom. You’re now staring at your naked form in the mirror, your eyes looking back and forth at the bite on shoulder and one on your hip.

Whines and scratches fill the air. You open the door a bit to let the dog in and shut the door behind him before you settle yourself on the toilet lid. “How am I going to tell them, boy?” You chuckle out sadly, trying to lighten up the moment. Dixon rests his chin on your leg, his brown eyes giving you a soft look. “You look after that little boy, you hear me?” You rub one of his ears between your fingers.

“Time for bed, Mama,” Bobby knocks at the door. “Let’s go, Mama.” Dean’s voice repeats.

Getting changed after covering the wounds, you run your hand through your semi-dried hair and out of the bathroom you are.

Standing in the doorway of the lounge and hallway, your heart is beating faster a bit more and your hands are softly shaking.

“Are you okay, honey?” asks Dean, seeing that you’re nervous about something. “I got bit,” you blurted out. “Let me put Monkey to bed.” Sam picked Bobby up and down the hallway to his room.

“Please say something, baby,” you walk towards Dean. Tears started to prick his eyes, some slipping and dropping onto the floor.

“You’re looking so pale,” he chuckles out with a sob. Smiling and sighing out, your arms slither around his waist, his arms wrapped over your shoulders. Your head rests against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. “I want you to do it. I can’t do it myself, I’ll hesitate. Sam will have a panic attack if he does it, so please,” you look at him with tears brimmed in your eyes, “kill me.”

He presses his lips against your forehead, his eyes closed and tears gently flowing down his cheeks. “Go say goodbye to our baby,” he mumbled against your skin.

Doing so, you gently knock against Bobby’s door before opening it, seeing your other husband and your son sitting on his bed. You kneel in front of him, hands on each side of his legs. Sam intertwines his with your closest hand. 

“Mama is really sick. Daddy is going to take care of me.”

“Are you going to get better?”

Sniffing and wiping your nose with your free hand, you answer, “He’s going to have to kill me, baby. If he doesn’t, then I’m gonna get turned into one of those monsters.”

Bobby jumps into your arms, your body thumping against your butt. “Mama loves you, always.” You lean your cheek against the top of his head, tears flowing down your cheeks.

Small knocks grab your attention, making the three of you look at Dean. You stand up with Bobby clinging to your body.

“I’ve told Ellen, Jo and Jack. They’re gonna tell the people.”

Going out to the lounge, Bobby is still clinging to your body. Sam is trailing behind, tears welled up in his eyes.

Setting Bobby on the ground, his hands are gripped into your shirt. “Bobby,” your voice cracks. His hands loosened and letting go of the fabric, his arms now wrapped around your legs.

“You’re gonna be okay.” You cupped Sam’s face, his tears wetting your hands. He brings your body against his, his head resting against your non-injured shoulder. “Sam.” Feeling something wet against his skin and shirt, he looks to see blood dribbling down the side of your mouth and down your chin.

Pulling his sleeve down, he wipes it away, not caring about the crimson liquid staining it. He then tugs your shirt collar back to see the covered bite mark. Your veins have darkened within under the bandage, the ends of the darkened veins stopping underneath your jawline.

“I’m gonna do this now,” you say softly, Sam pressing a kiss to your forehead. You bend down to peel your son away from your leg to hand him over to Sam, but he quickly wrapped his arms around your neck. “Bobby,” your cracked voice comes out as a soft stern. Sam’s hands grab a hold of Bobby’s waist to have you unclasped his hands.

“Mama!” His small hands reach out to you. His head gets tucked away into Sam’s neck, his big hand covering the child’s head. With a last kiss on the lips of your tall husband and a kiss to your son’s head, you shuffle towards Dean.

“I hope you’re ready, pretty girl, ‘cause I’m not,” Dean chuckles out dryly. Cupping his stubbly cheeks, you give him a kiss on his lips. One of your hands then go down to his gun holster to pull the weapon out and make his fingers curl around the handle.

All four of you have tears flowing down your cheeks. Dixon whines and rubs his head against your leg.

Dean wraps his weapon-free arm around your middle, your head now resting against his shoulder. “I have letters for each of you in my backpack. Read them when I’m buried,” you mumble.

“O-Okay.” Dean manages to get out with a shaky voice. You bring his hand up to your head, the barrel of his gun pressed against your temple. “I’m ready now.”

With his hand now shaking and his finger on the trigger, he presses it harder to release a bullet into your head and body going limp against his body. Blood has scattered across the floor and some on his shoulder.

He falls to the ground to wrap both arms around your body to sob against your shoulder.

Bobby had been struggling against Sam’s hold and been scream-crying since the gunshot went off. “Bobby.” Sam shifts the small boy in his arms to hold him as if he’s holding a rugby ball, tucked in his arm. “No! I want Mama!” Bobby screams into Sam’s chest whilst pushing against it.

Sam sits at the bottom of your grave, playing with some of the dirt as Dean, Bobby and Dixon are running around, Dean chasing his baby boy. 

“Dean and I read your letters a few days after you died. We’re gonna have Bobby read his when he’s a little bit older. Can’t believe it’s already been two months without you.”

“Papa! Come play with us.” Bobby yells at him whilst running and bumping against Sam’s back. He starts to climb Sam like a jungle gym. “I gotta go. Say goodbye to Mama.” Sam stands up, taking one of Bobby’s small hands into his.

“Bye, Mama. I love you.” Bobby waves at your grave before him and Sam walk towards Dean, who has a gentle smile on his face.

“I love you, too, (Y/N).” He mumbles to himself.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

okay what do we need to do to get that Chris on campus with Jake thing to happen because we will do it

Okay it’s not the whole thing or anything (I can work on that actually if you want) but here’s like six oh whoops it turned into a bunch of paragraphs of cute off the top of my head:

CW: VERY vaguely referenced past noncon/exploitation/abuse, recovering pet whumpee, conditioned responses, referenced/implied that character is potentially underaged

“Why can’t I-… I want to wear my, my, um, my my sweatshirt today, why can’t I wear that?” Chris stares longingly, almost pleadingly, as Jake tosses the balled-up dirty thing in the washing machine, smiles to himself. Two-pointer, he thinks. Not that he’s played sports since junior year of high school or anything, but he didn’t exactly suck at basketball.

“It’s too warm for sweatshirts and you’ve been wearing it for four days straight, Chris,” Jake says, pulling some clothes out of the neatly folded piles of clean shirts and pants that stay on a series of shelves in the laundry room for the rescues to pick from. Most rescues take a couple of weeks to start choosing things to keep in their rooms - Chris has been here for three and all he wants to wear is Jake’s sweatshirt and basketball shorts they’d found in the back of one of the closets, something a past rescue had left behind when they moved out to start fresh. “This is nothing. Look, you’ll still be covered up, I promise.”

“I, I will? Do you promise?” Chris hugged himself, all wiry limbs with the same forced sense of lithe gracefulness all the Romantics ended up with after training. “I don’t like um, like my skin showing I don’t like there to be too much, too much skin, Jake.”

Or any skin, Jake thinks. If it was up to Chris, they’d never see anything but his eyes. He had a feeling whoever Sir was had had a thing for Chris’s hair, too, in the past three days Chris had started to talk about dyeing it black or redder or just another color entirely. He’d seen Jake looking at a photo of a girl with pierced ears and mentioned he might want earrings, too.

That was all going to be big steps - Jake figures he’ll talk about it for a few months before he can do anything on his own. 

“Yeah, I promise. You know the rules here, Chris, you don’t show a single inch of skin to anybody ever unless you feel comfortable.”

“I, I, I would feel comfortable showing to-… to you, Jake,” Chris says, a little shyly. If he turns around, he knows, Chris’s face will be red, just at the cheekbones, and he’ll be doing that thing they all do where they tilt their head just the right way, just a little to the side, biting down on their lower lips to show they’re interested.

It’s probably pretty fucking seductive, if you’re a piece of shit pervert who orders one of them. When you’ve seen six of them do it, nearly robotically, falling back into motions trained into their muscle memory deeper than thought, it’s just creepy as shit.

“I know you would, buddy,” Jake says, keeping his eyes on the clothing. “But remember, we have rules about that, here.”

“Yeah, I, I know, I like the, um, the, the rules. I like them.” Chris sounds relieved, as though he’d said the words worrying that Jake would take him up on it or something. And probably he was worried about it - Nat seemed to think he was testing them, without even knowing.

Jake checks over the smaller sizes and pulls out a pair of straight-leg jeans, nothing special but they won’t cling, they’ll sit loose on Chris’s hips and won’t say anything about the shape of his legs. He tosses them over along with a random pair of boxers, and the rescued Box Boy quickly sheds his pajama pants and switches over to the new things while Jake has his back turned looking for shirts. 

“Is, um, are, are are are people going to, to look at me a lot today? Or not? Are they going to look? Is, um, because what if my Sir sees a picture, if if he, if he-”

Your ‘Sir’ knows where you are. You were a dirty little secret and that motherfucker isn’t going to say a fucking thing.

Jake doesn’t say it. Instead, he just turns with the shirts in hand and gives Chris a comforting, reassuring smile. “No, man. Look, remember what we talked about?”

Chris nods, his eyes going wide and solemn, very serious about the things he’d been asked to memorize. “My name is Christopher Garner and I, I, um, I’m your father’s brother’s oldest son and I, I, I’m visiting from Michigan and that’s the name of a, um, of a state in the United States of America and that is where we live.”

“Great. Just… don’t start telling everybody everything all at once, okay? But it’s good that you remember all of it. First things first, let’s cover up your number okay?”

He hands Chris a long-sleeved shirt and the boy pulls it on over his head, the strawberry-blond pushing through the spot for the neck and fluffing out around his head, mussed up and standing on end. He looks fucking adorable, like a little kid.

Because he probably still IS one, and if anyone would tell me who that fucking Sir is I’d rip his throat out with my goddamn teeth like that lady in the third Honor Bound movie did. 

That was a movie series he couldn’t watch with the rescues. Too… close, in some ways, to shit some of them had already seen. But Jake had his own DVD copies he watched sometimes while studying or doing homework. 

Chris is frowning at the cuffs on the ends of his sleeves, examining them up close. His green eyes have gone slightly crossed. “Why’s there a hole?”

“For your thumbs. Let me show you.” Jake steps forward and carefully shifts the cloth around, slipping Chris’s thumb through the purposefully cut hole just below the cuff. “See? Now you don’t have to worry about it riding up and showing your barcode. Plus, it’s kind of a thing a lot of people are doing on campus, so you’ll fit in.”

“I’ll fit in?” Chris looks up at him - up and up and up, the kid is so short - and Jake smiles back down. “Will I? I’ll, um, I’ll fit in?”

“Well… mostly. You’ll fit right in as my cousin, right?” Jake grins down, rubbing lightly at his shoulders, and Chris smiles back with an expression of such absolute trust that it physically hurts to look at him.

Everything they went through made them all so fucking trusting, so naïve and so ready to accept any hint of goodness that came their way as genuine. It was like… like trying to teach a dog to be a person.

“Right,” Chris says firmly. “Cousin. Christopher Garner, who comes from, from, from Minnesota-”

“Michigan.”

“Right. Michigan.” Chris’s face fell, just a little. “I’m, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to to to um, to get it wrong-”

“You’re fine, Chris. We’ll practice on the bus on the way. Now, throw this one, too.” He hands him  thin zip-up hoodie, and Chris looks finally perfectly comfortable once he’s pulled the hood up and over his head. Every bit of skin he could reasonably cover is covered. Only his bangs stick out to show he had blond hair at all.

“It’s a long day for me, so we’re going to be on campus for a long time. I’ve got money for food and stuff, and listen-… Chris, this is important, very, very important that you remember this.”

Chris swallows, hard, and nods. He fixes his eyes on Jake with total focus. “Yes, Jake.”

“If you get hungry, or thirsty, or you have to use the bathroom, you absolutely have to tell me. Do you understand?”

Chris frowns, eyebrows furrowing. They’re the same pale copper as his hair, and sometimes in dim light it’s hard to tell he has any. “But we don’t decide if we’re hungry-”

“Yes, you do, Chris. Now, you do. With me, you get to decide when you eat food, okay? I don’t care if it’s ‘lunchtime’, or whatever. You just tell me you need something and I’ll take care of you, okay?”

Chris looks doubtful, but nods, slowly. “Okay, Jake. I can, um, I can do that, but you don’t have to feed me I’m used to not, to not eating, it doesn’t bother me I don’t even um feel, I don’t, don’t feel hungry much I don’t.”

“I know, buddy. But we’re going to try and concentrate on feeling hungry more. I’m going to buy you a coffee and a scone before my first class-”

“Are you, um, are you getting-”

“Yeah, I’ll get one too.” Chris relaxes, going nearly boneless in relief. Jake reaches out to take his hands - long, thin fingers not roughened or reddened by housework. They’re a little cold, but warm quickly to his touch, and Chris tightens his grip immediately, looking up at Jake, eyes wide and almost adoring. “You can do this, Chris, okay? I trust you. I believe in you.”

Chris’s fingers start to tremble in Jake’s grip, and his lips press together. His eyes tear up, just a little. “D-do you really, Jake? Am I good, to be trusted? Am I, um, am I am I am I-”

“You’re very good, Chris,” Jake says, softly. “And you’re going to do great. Okay, one more time. Who are you?”

“Christopher Garner but I like to be called Chris,” Chris says, each word dropped with importance, with gravity. For once, he thinks it all carefully through before he speaks. “I’m from Michigan, the part shaped like a mitten, and Michigan is a state in the United States of America, which is a country, and it’s our country where we live. I’m your cousin because your dad is my dad’s brother. I’m staying with you because my parents are on a cruise and I’m too young to stay home alone because I’m not eighteen.” 

“Perfect, buddy.”

Chris hesitates, looking guilty. “Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“I, um. I am eighteen.”

I’ll bet my left goddamn testicle you’re not. Doing this to you should count as a fucking justifiable homicide when I find that son of a bitch and gut him-

“I know, man.“ Jake’s voice stays soft and soothing. “But it’s just for the story.”

“… okay, okay, it’s just, um, just just for the story, I can do that. I can.” Chris nods quickly, giving Jake’s hands a tight squeeze with his own. 

Jake smiles, pulling back to ruffle the coppery hair. Chris glows at the attention, the affection, tilting his head into it like a cat. 

“Okay, bud. I think we’re ready. Let’s go catch the bus. If we get the 6:45 instead of the 7:15 we’ll have time to drink our coffee before my first class.”

He leads Chris out, the young rescue repeating his story quietly to himself, hands buried in the pockets of his zipup, his barcode and number safely hidden underneath his shirt, determined to make Jake proud and pretend to be just another free person like everyone else. 

[mayve-hems]

Old Me | Ashton Irwin x OC

Type: IMAGINE | ONE SHOT | MULTI CHAPTER

Summary: It all started with a lie. One that tore the two Ashtons apart from each other the day before graduation. Five years later, Ashton and Kalypso are showing up to Calum Hood’s wedding, prepared only a little for what is about to come. Ashton is determined to prove to his ex girlfriend that he never has, and never will, stop loving her. 

Word Count: 14.7k

Note: I love my friend Anna because she helped me so much with this and she will forever have my heart. 

Warnings: selling/use of weed, drinking, lots and lots of cussing

Normal

Flashback

-

Kalypso ducks her head underneath a bathtub of water. Her chocolate brown hair billows around her like she’s a sea creature or a mermaid goddess watching over Mount Olympus. If she were a few years younger, she would’ve stained the rim of the bathtub with a hair dye concoction straight from a box.

Resurfacing, she scrubs paint from her fingers, arms, legs, and face. Stuffed deep under her nail beds, she reaches for Paris Pink paint. She hisses, separating her skin and nail, but admires how nice they look. Plain, long-stained black, and mostly healthy. Making a mental note to look up nail salons for a much needed acrylic manicure, she hears a pawing at the bathroom door.

Even though she’s single and lives alone, she knows there’s no privacy in her small apartment. Magik, a black cat she found in a dumpster, is clingier than Kalypso’s little sister, Stella. She has three seconds to stand and pull a towel around her body before she sees her hallway through a newly opened door and a quiet mew enters the bathroom. Magik is too smart for her own good.

“I’m glad it’s only you,” Kalypso sighs and steps onto a blue bath mat right out of the clawfoot tub. The linoleum is cold underneath her toes from her air conditioning, so right out of the bathtub, she never stands directly on the bathroom floor without something there. Kalypso forgets her slippers once again so she maneuvers a leap from the bathmat, through the semi-opened door, and onto her pretty white carpet. “Thought I’d have to deal with Stella,” She smiles once she’s on the carpet.

“Heard that!” Stella, Kalypso’s younger sister, says over her shoulder in the kitchen. Her hands busy themselves with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The bathroom is at the end of the hallway, with the kitchen having a sharp pivot to the left when you enter the living room, meaning that if she talks loud enough, Stella can hear everything Kalypso may say about her. “I was giving you time not to smell.”

“I hate you,” Kalypso sighs and turns left into her bedroom. A dream bedroom-- one with 70s rock and 80s pop -scratched- record glued to her ceiling, and blankets covering her bed. Hung LED lights and paint pretending to melt from the walls where the ceiling attaches and the aroma of vanilla incense. “Do you ever go home?”

She’s filled milk crates with vinyls that are used, right next to her bed, underneath the table holding the record player. To the left of her bed is an enormous window showing her a view of the city laid out in color and sunlight. Along her floor, she’s left clothes and other things out instead of cleaning them up.

Pulling her closet door open, two empty canvases tumble from beside her dresser. She picks them up, shoves them back into their designated place, and drops her towel to the floor. Kalypso isn’t worried about the windows on the top floor or her sister inside of her apartment.

Her fingers brush the sleeves of colorful shirts, over her dresser, and pays no attention to the art supplies she’s included inside. Above her hanging clothes are packing supplies and canvases she still needs to send out.

Kalypso owns her own ‘company’ called AKM_arts. AKM, after her initials, and arts because that’s always been her passion. Drawing, coloring, painting, crafting something into the way she’s feeling and letting the world see her so raw. She began as an instagram artist, Ashton Kalypso Montgomery, but quickly started selling custom pieces.

“You’re so pale,” Stella says, watching Kalypso pull a pair of jean shorts up her legs. Her plan for the day was to purchase more circle canvases when the shops finally opened. She needed to start more tie-dye nameplates. A man requested one for his daughter, Auzilynn, which Kalypso couldn’t seem to pronounce. “How are you Australian?”

Kalypso loves showing off her tattoos to the world; her mother's initials tattooed on the inside of her right shisn, a koi fish down her thigh, a single bee painfully placed behind her knee, a feather falling from hip to thigh, and several things in between. Her body is a canvas for anybody that deems themselves good enough.

“You’re two years younger than me, why do we look like twins?” Kalypso pulls a black shirt over her head that leaves the word ANGEL tattooed on her clavicle. “Is this cute?”

“You always looks tupid,” Stella replies, rolling her eyes. “But you’re still pale.”

“We’ve established this,”

“I got your mail for you,” Stella takes a bite from her sandwich, tearing the crust from the rest of the bread. Kalypso and Stella look a lot alike, besides their hair color. Kalypso always opted for a darker, more vibrant color like her natural dark brown. Stella, blonde, preferred pastels when they were in school.

Kalypso snatches the letter from her younger sister’s hand. Addressed for Ashton Kalypso Montgomery, apartment 607B. Stamped with a dog photo, and sealed with red wax. “It’s from Calum Hood.”

“Yeah, I got the same one,” Stella smiles at her sister. Kalypso and Calum’s friend group were close at one point, so Stella hung around as much as she could. The nuisance in the same grade as Calum and Luke that joined everything they did with Kalypso. “He’s getting married.”

“Married?”

“Yeah, his fiance is beautiful,”

Kalypso rips open the packaging. The location, the date and time, and a picture of Calum and his future-wife standing together in front of a brick wall. Stella’s right, Calum’s fiance is beautiful; curly brown hair, a hand placed over Calum’s chest, and a perfect smile. “Cool,” Kalypso tosses the invitation and the envelope in the trash. “Hope he has a good wedding.”

“You’re not going?”

“I love Calum and all, but I don’t want to see Ashton,”

“It’s been five years, Kal, get over it,” Stella brushes her blonde locks from her long face. “Please? I want to talk to Luke.”

“It’s been five years, Stel, get over it,” Kalypso bends down to look into her paint drawers unit for a certain color. Auzilynn’s name plate requires a rainbow painted into a tie-dye pattern. Kalypso isn’t sure if she has the correct shade of blue. “What would I do with my cat?” Opening the drawer dedicated the blue paints, she has more than enough.

“Alexander could watch Magik,” Stella replies, thinking about the guy just down the hall she’s trying to date. They’re in the flirting stage so far, and she hopes they’ll progress further eventually. “And I’m not trying to hook up with Hemmings. I’m trying to get my laptop back from him. It’s been way too long.”

She’s a year younger than her sister. She graduated with Luke Hemmings and Calum Hood. At the end of the day, she was a part of their friend group, including her sister Kalypso, Kalypso’s childhood best friend Michael Clifford, and Kalypso’s boyfriend, Ashton Irwin. WhenKalypso graduated from school, she was ready to take off and leave Sydney, never look back at the place that reminded her of her entire high school career. Stella was permitted to graduate halfway through her last year of school and they moved into the same apartment.

“He probably doesn’t have it anymore. It’s been five years,”

“Ashton probably doesn’t have feelings for you anymore, Ashton Kalypso. It’s been five years,”

Since they’re sisters, it didn’t take long for Stella to finally reach her limit and move into the apartment next door. They enter each other's homes whenever they want.

Kalypso rolls her eyes. “Do you ever stop?”

“Are you going to go?”

“Hell no,” Kalypso lets out a loud chuckle. “You’re hilarious,”

-

Returning from the store, Magik greets Kalypso at the door. Dropping four reusable bags on the floor, she greets her loud cat with pets and kisses. Canvases, paint, stickers, glitter, paintbrushes, all equaling way too much money from Kalypso’s wallet covers the entrance of her apartment. After greeting the cat, she gets started on cleaning her room and putting things away.

She throws the bags on her bed to straighten out the messy place. Clothes are folded or thrown into a laundry basket, blankets are folded or placed on her bed, canvases that turned out bad are put in a repaint pile where she turns them black and makes galaxies, and the craft massacre in her closet becomes properly organized. She puts canvases into an organizer with different sizes for different canvases and anything involving paint bottles or paint brushes directly is thrown into the messy paint drawers. She’s got way too many bottles of the same shade of blue that she needs for the rainbow tie-dye, but adds another into the drawer.

Quickly, though, she has to get to painting. Swirls of orange and red chase each other around an oval canvas. Swirling inward then out, mirroring each other. She goes in order of the rainbow, leaving one strip of purple on the narrow inside of the swirl. Tie-dye on a canvas. After it dries, she free hands the same. The person that ordered it chose basic cursive writing, which is easy with the help of muscle memory. Auzilynn, weird, but interesting.

She prints a label for the canvas and gets the packaging supplies ready so she can slip it inside and put it into the pile of canvases that need to be shipped off. She has eighteen wrapped canvases to go out of Australia, but only a few are staying inside. One, Auzilynn’s, isn’t going farther than the apartment complex a few blocks away. If Kalypso makes it in time, she can get Auzilynn’s out by 11 AM and have it delivered within a day.

Kalypso has over 100 orders to do, and only a few days until they need to be shipped off. She can’t take a few days off for a stupid wedding, it’d be worthless.

Although, she could use the break.

No! That’s stupider than anything else she’s thought of. At the same time, she could show off her glow-up and amazing life. Painting all day and night, scheduling her working hours, deciding what she gets to do. She has things to get done. Her paintbrushes need to be cleaned, canvases need to be organized and shipped, and her apartment is a disaster.

Taking a break from painting, Kalypso pours wet cat food into Magik’s bowl next to the refrigerator . The cat digs into her md-morning breakfast as if she’d never eaten before.

Across from the refrigerator, Kalypso pours a sink of hot water from the tap. Her paintbrushes are already in the sink, waiting to be cleaned. Browns, pinks, and blues explode from between the bristles. Galaxies dropped onto the stainless steel bottom like a picture.

She was thinking long and hard about going or staying. The one thing blowing her mind was Ashton Irwin and how he would have progressed. Was he still tall and handsome? Curly hair and eyes the color dewy grass? Married? Single? Still toying with the bad boy scene? She’d changed after moving away- rebellious tones and sassy remarks blossomed into doing whatever the hell she wanted to, but without so much hatred toward everyone. Weekly-dyed hair turned into natural brown on pale skin. Nobody could stay the same, so would Ashton still love her?

They broke up the day before graduating, Kalypso initiating the conversation, Ashton entirely speechless when she said the words. Kalypso had heard that he slept with a girl named Sage Miller, who was in their grade, the night before while at a party, from Luke. A cut-and-dry breakup where Kalypso blocked her ex boyfriend from her life. At graduation, Kalypso smiled, but every time she looked away from the cameras shoved in her face, broken pieces cut themselves along her throat.

She didn’t want to hear Ashton’s excuse when she broke up with him, she didn’t want to hear what he might have tried to come up with or how it wasn’t his fault. Kalypso, a girl that still knows her worth, realized that sometimes you don't need a guy to be happy.

Kalypso dials her sister for a video call. Continuous rinsing and scrubbing from her paintbrushes, laying them on the counter that wrapped from the sink to the fridge. She heard the dial tone end and her little sister picked up the call. Stella could only see a white ceiling.

“What do you want, Kal?”

“How long do you think Alex will watch Magik for?”

Ashton Irwin could still be single.

-

For Ashton Irwin, he's known about Calum's wedding since he proposed to the woman, but still put off packing until the day before he left. One suitcase full of men's clothes for a week's stay, and one smaller bag of his four-year-old daughter's clothes.

"She's not going to go," Luke remarks, looking at his fingernails. Painted orange with a highlighter by Ashton's daughter. He has a soft spot for his favorite four-year-old, but she likes destroying Luke's nails. "She hasn't even RSVPed yet and weddings in a week."

"You don't know that," Ashton replies. "She could just be Stella's plus-one."

"She's Kalypso, she's not the type to dwell on the past and wait around for peoples weddings,"

"You're kidding me," Ashton throws a dress at Luke. "She dragged me to thirty weddings in four years." Their flight leaves in only a few hours, and Ashton's slowly falling more and more behind on what he needs to get done. He needs to dress himself and his daughter, get a carry on bag ready for her, and manage to get to the airport. Luke's attention was diverted to grabby hands and a soft mewing, his name toward him. "She could've changed and now she's more sentimental or some shit. I did."

"Yeah, and how exactly are you going to explain Auzzie?" Luke lifts her from the floor, sitting her on his lap. They both stare at Ashton from the toddler bed. "Sorry that Sage Miller told you that I cheated on you because she kissed me at a party and you broke up with me. It didn't actually happen and I was so heartbroken I made myself believe her and hey, this kid came out of it. She died two years ago but it's okay because she was a drug addict and had nothing to do with Auzilynn. You want to get married?"

"Yeah, actually," Ashton moves across his room to get into Auzzie's dresser, searching for more than the few clothes he can find. Her toys are thrown everywhere and her clothes are torn from their drawers. He didn't have time to clean it up. "Is that so bad?" He starts pulling shirts and pants sets from the piles of clean clothes and a dress that she wore almost every day.

"What do you think, Auzzie?" Luke asks, shifting to pull her higher up. She looks just like Ashton, with a small mixture of her mother. Curly blonde hair in space buns, eyes that sparkle like glass, a crooked smile that could get her out of trouble. "Is daddy being ridiculous?"

Auzilynn nods her head. Her fingers toy with the part of her white tank top that's rolling up. "I want Doritos."

"You want Doritos?" Ashton asks. He decides he has enough outfits on his arm and in the somewhat packed back that he should start folding everything together. As long as it fits, he'll be happy.

"And fruit snacks!"

"Auzilynn Marie, you're not going to ruin your dinner," Ashton demands. "We're going to be at grandma's house in a few hours, can you wait until then?"

Auzilynn shakes her head then cups her fingers around Luke's ear. "Are we still growing fruit snacks?" She says in a hot-breathed whisper.

"Are we still growing fruit snacks?" Luke asks Ashton, wondering what he should answer. "Are they still growing?"

"Yes," Ashton groans. He ran out of fruit snacks three days beforehand and every place seemed to be out of the special type that Auzilynn liked. He told her they had to grow, and he was so happy children were susceptible. "They're still growing."

"Have you ever been to Sydney Auzzie?" Luke asks. His fingers search under her arms and around her neck for ticklish spots that cause her to giggle the most. Her body tenses up playfully. "Are you going to play with Uncle Mike tonight?"

"Yeah!" Auzilynn replies. Michael's still back in Sydney but visited often. He's probably Auzilynn's favorite.

"Back to Kal," Luke says. "How do you think it's such a good idea to talk to her."

"Because I know for sure that Stella's going." All he's wanted for the past five years is to tell Kalypso what happened that night, not some messed up version Sage had created. He plans to use Calum's wedding as a way to talk to Kalypso. A two-for-one deal; see Calum again and get back on good terms with his high school girlfriend. "If I can talk to Stella, she'll at least let Kalypso know that we conversed."

"How do you know? She could just lie and say you didn't show up,"

"They're sisters. They tell each other everything,"

Ashton has only been told stories about what happened to Kalypso after they graduated. She stopped hanging out with Calum, Luke, and occasionally messaged Michael. Stella became her best friend and her sister in one, and they moved several hours away.

Ashton had once been her drug and suffocated her when they broke up. The butterflies he had created turned into caterpillars that filled her lungs with goo and half-eaten flowers. Rumors told Ashton that she nursed herself with whiskey and sleepless nights from graduation on. He would see her driving around with Stella in the middle of the night, hoodie and messy bun-- when she looked the best.

"Stella probably won't listen to you either,"

Ashton and Sage pulled up to a stoplight in the middle of the night, returning from a party, almost a year after Ashton and Kalypso broke up. Kalypso pulled up right next to them, right before the light turned green, and rolled down her window. She screamed, "fuck you!" at the top of her lungs with a stern middle finger pointing straight at Ashton. She sped off when the light turned green. Something that irked Ashtons somewhat-of-a-girlfriend at the time, but to Ashton, that was a Kalypso thing to do.

"Can't you be positive?" Ashton folds another one of Auzilynn's dresses and sets it lightly in the suitcase. He's prepared for anything to happen, including several changes of clothes. "Can you fold the rest of those while I-" A ding runs through the room. Ashton's phone at full volume vibrates Luke's leg. He grabs it quickly to check who it is. Pleasantly surprised, he swipes the notification away. "That was fast."

"What was fast?"

"For Auzzie's birthday, I ordered this painting thing with her name on it," He clicks on the pattern he chose and flips his phone for Luke to see. "They shipped it already and I ordered it last night."

"Watch it be shitty," Luke laughs.

"I paid $50 for that thing," Ashton shakes his head. He prays that he didn't just waste his money entirely and that hopefully, the creator spelled his daughters' name right. "It better be good."

-

“I guess I can’t say the joke anymore,” Kalypso sasses, looking the large white house up and down. A porch that wraps all the way to the back door, into an over spacious backyard. She tilts her head to one side to comb all of her hair over her right shoulder. “Can’t really fuck your wife, Cal,” Calum glances up from his cement table and leans back in an outdoors chair. He looks like an older version of himself, rather than a completely different person. “Sorry, Mike told me to come up to the front.”

“Kalypso?” Calum asks. Brown hair thicker than life itself, large eyes that sparkle underneath any light, and a hoop through her right nostril. Somehow, she isn’t as intimidating as her high school self had been, but at the same time, she is worse.

Kalypso crosses her arms. In Calum’s high school eyes, there’s no way that the woman standing on his porch is his friend Kalypso. As an adult, he questions how she could’ve changed too much but remained the same. “Are we calling me Ashton again?”

“Huh?” Calum wonders. He is just amazed that she was coming after not returning her invite. She must be Stella’s plus one.

“You said Kalypso as if you are trying to get me to start going by Ashtonn again,”

“No!” Calum stammers. Kalypso used to be an avid member of not wanting to go to formal events. She skipped her own prom to go on a boat with Ashton, still in a prom dress. She barely showed up for her own graduation, and she’s voluntarily going to Calum’s wedding? She must really care about him. “I’m just surprised you showed up. Two days early.”

No hair dye, no lip piercing, no eyebrow slits, and she isn’t wearing a full face of makeup anymore. Gauged ears, a white shirt tied in a knot above the band of a black skater skirt, and tons of freckles.

“Was I really that bad of a friend?” Kalypso wearily asks. “If I was, then I’m sorry.”

“No,” Calum shakes his head and finally decides to stand up. He’s several inches taller than Kalypso still. “We’re going to Melbourne to see my sister next month and I was going to have a little celebration there. I didn’t expect you to come to the wedding.”

“Should I go home then?”

“No!” Calum sighs. “I’m just thinking of you from high school. You didn’t go to shit so I just thought you wouldn’t sit through a wedding.”

“I’ve changed,”

“Yes! I see that,” Calum smiles and gestures to her clothes. She wasn’t the biggest fan of skirts when they were teenagers. She’s gone through a tedious development of her character. “You look nice.”

“It’s Stella. If I had my way, I’d be wearing thigh highs,”

“There’s my Kaly!” Calum holds his arms out for an overly-zealous hug. Kalypso has never been near his height, nor all of his friends, so bear hugs are always expected. His heart beats in his chest like a rhythmic song. “What’s new? I haven’t heard from you in forever,”

"I gave birth to seven children and I'm married to John Mulaney," She looks around the porch, wanting to see what Calum's like now. There's a garden off to the side of the house, vegetables on the right side, fruit on the left.

Calum pulls a chair out for Kalypso to sit down in. He moves the documents on his table to the side so he can focus on her. "Really, huh?" They both chuckle and smile brightly. "Our group finished the kids bet."

"The kids bet?"

"Remember when we had a bet on who would have children first? We all tried to bet on you and Ashton,"

"Did I win? Who was my bid?"

"Michael's won," Calum answers. Michael guessed Ashton in general, Calum guessed Kalypso, Luke guessed Michael, and Ashton guessed Luke. "You bet me."

"Then who has the kid? Luke or Ashton?"

"Not important!" Luke says, clapping a hand on Kalypso's shoulder. She turns in the seat, excitedly. She almost tackles him to the cement out of excitement. How did she think that she couldn't go to the wedding? "Children are sticky and that's gross." She's gone five years without hanging out with her group every day of the week. Kalypso feels like a teenager again.

"Liar," Calum says. "You love Auzzie."

Kalypso laughs harder. Who names their kid Auzzie? "You and Michael babysat my brothers for years, and you enjoyed it."

"Kal, I don't need your opinion," Luke shakes his head. Michael and Luke were suckers for the Montgomery boys. A pair of twins seven years younger than Kalypso. "So, seven kids, huh?"

"Yeah," Kalypso starts to count off her fingers "Pride, Envy, Wrath, Gluttony, Sloth, Lust, Greed, and Wrath,"

"Some people I could get along with," Luke smiles. He too is surprised by Kalypso's personality shirt. She was a classic skater girl with weed bags and a scale in her car. How did she turn into a perfect art freak? "But for real, husband? Wife? Any babies from them?"

"I've got a house, a cat, and my little sister,"

"Really?" Luke gasps.

"Just not that social anymore," She was once a sociable person, which is concerning to the boys. Ashton has had that big of an impact on her. "So, um, Michael or you got wives, Lu?"

"We're Auzzie's favorite single uncles," Luke smiles. "I mean if you're trying to give me your phone number I wouldn't-"

"-I'll give you my phone number in a friendly way. I'm not getting into your pants, Hems," Kalypso smiles and grabs his phone out of his hand. She unlocks it with the same password he's used since he was twelve. "So do I get to meet Auzzie? I feel left out."

"She's inside with Mike and Ash. If you want to concur that battles," Calum answers. He points to the screen door next to the table. Just inside, Kalypso can see two figures standing tall, shadowed onto a nice hardwood floor.

Kalypso is the leader of the broken-up group, even after five years of going solo. So badass, so intimidating that people didn't want to mess with her. With the five-year glow-up on her shoulders, she's a soft intimidating person. She still falls for hugs and attention, wrapping her arms around Luke's middle. He's grown at least three inches in five years.

"How's your mom? I was going to see if I could visit before I go back to Melbourne," Luke asks, letting go. Kalypso's torn from smiling and feeling depressed. She lives in Melbourne too, the irony of it all.

"She died," Kalypso folds both of her ears over to show the boys white ribbons. Pretty tattoos, but hidden. "Lung cancer got her a couple of years ago." Kalypso and Luke finally sit down in chairs.

"Oh," Luke's face falls. He wasn't that close to Kalypso's family like Ashton or Michael were, but he was still welcomed at any point in time. How did he not know that Mackenzie Montgomery died? "I'm sorry . . . I had no idea."

"It was just family at the funeral. Jasper almost didn't go," Kalypso was close to her mom her entire life. Kalypso, Stella, Jasper, and James' father left and never came back after the twins were born. Growing up from a seven-year-old, Kalypso made her mom into one of her best friends. They did almost everything together.

"Your brother Jasper?"

"That's the one,"

When Ashton and Kalypso broke up, Mackenzie and Michael were Kalypso's main support. A lot of times Stella or Luke were involved, and occasionally a couple of jokes from Calum, but Mackenzie never let her daughter feel alone. A beautiful woman, taken too soon.

"Why?"

"Too hard for him to face,"

Mackenzie called Kalypso and Stella every night after they moved to Melbourne. They'd talk about everything underneath the sun, except for the disease that was ruining Mackenzie's body. She never told anybody about that.

Kalypso clears her throat. "So did you guys ever make a band?"

Luke's face lights up. "We didn't start a band, but I have an apprenticeship at a recording studio."

"Really!?" Kalypso smiles. Luke's second choice in life was to become a music producer, even if he couldn't make it into a band. "I'm so happy for you." She claps her hand into Luke's for an achievement. "What about Michael. Any big breaks?"

"He streams video games,"

"Hey, at least he gets to do something he likes,"

"Are you talking trash on me!?" Michael screams, finally walking out of the house. "Holy shit it's Kalypso." Kalypso pivots in her chair to stare down the blond man. He looks just like he did in high school. "Ashton and I had a bet that you wouldn't come because he's here."

Kalypso's head drops. "Of course. Was I really just that bad of a friend?" Inside, she feels terrible, like she messed up as a person that not even her friends expected her to show up to Calum's wedding. She didn't think she was that bad at socializing."

"No, it's just . . . he's here so we thought you wouldn't want to come."

"I'm an adult, Michael, I can get over things."

"I'm not trying to be rude, 'Lypso, I just- you still go by Kalypso, right?" Michael asks. He hasn't heard either Calum nor Luke say Kalypso, because he wasn't listening. Ashton or Kalypso, he knows her by both names. Kalypso nods her head. "Good. I don't know if I can go back to calling you Ashton."

"Somebody say my name?" A thick Australian accent asks, following behind Michael. Kalypso wants to curl up into a ball, scared of Ashton. Ashton, the boy she was and still is in love with. Ashton, the man that cheated on her two days before they graduated. In his arms, a little girl with flowy brown hair smiles. Kalypso's heart fractures. "Oh,"

Luke reaches his arms out to grab Auzilynn from Ashton. Auzilynn practically jumps from Ashton's arms, but he's too distracted staring at Kalypso. She can't bring herself to look at him. Calum and Luke share uncomfortable looks. The tension can't be cut with a knife.

"Auzzie, can you say 'hi' to Kalypso?" Luke asks, setting her on his lap. Auzilynn is a mini-me to Ashton beside her darker, grown out hair, and softer versions of his features. Kalypso has no idea who her mom may be.

Auzilynn looks toward Kalypso. A wide, toothy smile forces a small smile from Kalypso. She has to admit that the two-year-old is pretty cute. "Hi, K'lyso!"

"Kalypso, babe," Ashton corrects. "Kuh-lip-so."

"K'lyso!"

"It's fine, Ashton," Kalypso says. "Hi, uh, Auzzie." She hesitates. She looks to Calum for an answer about Auzilynn's name. "Is it short for something, or-"

"Auzilynn," Luke informs her. "Auzilynn Marie Rose Irwin."

Kalypso looks back at Ashton, questioning the child's name. Normal middle names with an off-the-wall first name. Ashton smiles a closed-mouth smile, dimples showing and obvious frustration in his face.

"Sage named her," says Ashton. Kalypso feels herself falling apart even more. Suddenly, she can see Sage in Auzilynn. The way her eyes shaped like almonds, her bottom lip tucks underneath her teeth the smallest bit when she smiles, her nose looks as if she were a Who in How The Grinch Stole Christmas. With Ashton mixed inside of her, she manages to be adorable still. "I wanted to name her Marie Adair, but Sage said we were going to move to America when Auzzie was a year old and it would tell everyone she's Australian."

"Are you guys visiting from America?" Kalypso asks. She just wants to know if Sage is in the picture, if Ashton's moved on so much. He has a kid, meaning that he's opened up his heart enough for another woman to enter his life. Knowing her luck, Kalypso wonders if there would even be a place for her anymore.

"We've never even left the country,"

"Then where's Sage?"

"Hopefully the cemetery," Ashton replies. "She died when Auzzie was only a few months old. Drug overdose. Never even met Auzzie after signing the birth certificate."

"Oh, I'm so sorry,"

Feeling guilty, Kalypso finds it sort of funny that Sage was the one Ashton cheated with but Kalypso was more successful than her. Karma is a bitch.

-

"Are you talking shit on me?" Fourteen-year-old Ashton Kalypso Mongtomery asks Ashton Irwin. She slides down the end of the leather couch in the school atrium to sit closer to him. He smells like cedarwood and bonfire smoke. "Afraid of a little competition?"

"What are you talking about?" Ashton Irwin asks. The Ashtons have heard of each other, but never talked directly. All they know is that they're both friends with Michael Clifford, but not the same friend group. Ashton Montgomery spends more time with her sister in the year below than with Luke Hemmings or Calum Hood. "I don't even know you."

"Bull!" Ashton Montgomery snarls. Ashton Irwin watches the ball in her lip move to the side when she gets sassy. He swears she didn't have that yesterday during English. "Stop talking shit, or we're going to have beef."

"We can't have beef if I don't know you!"

Ashton Montgomery's tongue rolls over the fresh piercing in her lip. "Watch your mouth." She disappears into a messy hallway, blue hair dye lost in a sea of students, as quickly as she'd shown up.

-

Ashton Irwin was held back a year, while Luke and Calum skipped one. All of them -Michael, Luke, Calum, and both Ashtons- were in the same grade. Ashton Montgomery stays strictly with her sister Stella or Michael, with the occasional visit with Luke, while Ashton Irwin is known as the new kid Luke, Calum, and Michael adopted.

"So was she hot?" Calum excitedly asks. He's not very well acquainted with Ashton Montgomery. Michael forbade him to try and date her when he first expressed feelings, and the rule still stands.

Stella and Luke are dating and have been for two years, crossing the groups over just enough for Ashton Irwin to be the only one not knowing about Ashton Montgomery. Surprisingly, though, the whole school knows of Ashton Montgomery and her intriguing reputation, so how does he not?

"Who?" Ashton Irwin questions. He lays his hand next to him on the couch, trying to draw a boundary line from Calum to him. Calum still edges closer on the blue fabric. "Can you get me some tape?" He asks Luke. Luke, sitting in the chair next to the couch, grabs a roll of duct tape out of a drawer. "Calum, if you don't back off, I'll tape you to a wall." He rips a piece of tape off loudly.

"I'm talking about Montgomery!"

"Who?"

"Ashton!"

If Calum or Luke had to pick one person to be afraid of, Ashton Montgomery would be in the top slot. She's five-foot-nothing, full of pure sass and piercings. Ashton Irwin has seen his name twin in the hallway a few times and wants to learn about the abyss of Ashton Montgomery.

"Wait, you talked to Ash today? Tap some ass?" Luke asks. He thinks maybe, just maybe, Ashton conquered his fear of ripped skinny jeans, a grey tank top, and a red flannel. Ashton groans. "What? You're the one that wants her.

"And so does Calum,"

"Yeah, but they don't share a name," Luke smirks.

Ashton rolls his eyes. "When is the guy supposed to be here? I need to smoke so I can no longer hear you."

"Ask Mike," Luke answers, shrugging. He's no help. "He's the one that knows him."

"But he's showering,"

"Looks like you'll have to wait a little while then,"

Ashton is ready to kick some thirteen-year-old ass.

-

Luke stands up from the porch table, bored of painting on a canvas. Capturing her attention, Kalypso looks up to make sure nothing is wrong. He's got all 10 fingers, no paint is spilled, and his section isn't complete. "Calum can paint this himself," he says, stretching backward.

Kalypso looks down at their progress. Hood is written in fancy cursive and half painted silver with black outlining. "What time is it?" She asks, throwing her paintbrush into a cup of water. The canvas Calum chose is bigger than the table and one of the most agitating, simple paintings Kalypsos ever made.

"It's quarter till nine,"

"Oh shit," Kalypso jumps up to look at her phone. "I was supposed to call Stella." She quickly dials up her sister.

Luke focuses on the painting instead of Stella Montgomery's voice. So sweet, so soft, so silky smooth and calming like lavender perfume she uses every day. Secretly, Luke missed Stella and everything about her; the way she smiles over the stupidest things, her singing voice, how she whispers his name right before falling asleep.

When Kalypso ends the call, he has to distract himself. Quickly, before he falls in love with teal blue bedroom walls and indie songs. "Are you going to Calum's bachelor party?"

"Isn't that for . . . Guys?"

"Yeah, but you're like, one of the guys so it counts."

"Is there a stripper?"

"It's just Cal, Mike, Ash, and a few other guys. If you want to strip-"

"-I'm good. No worries,"

"So do you want to go?" Luke asks again. He pounds the bristles of a cheap paint brush into the bottom of a plastic cup to remove silver paint. Pounding, pounding harder and harder until he's afraid of destroying the brush. "It's just a sit around and drink beer type of night,"

"Yeah, I guess," Kalypso starts typing. "Let me tell Stella."

The paint water is dark grey, diluted with tons and tons of silver and only a few bristles of black. How does Kalypso spend hours just painting? Luke's back feels terrible and they haven't cleaned up yet. She must be a trooper to be able to do this all day every day, he thinks.

"Ready?" Kalypso asks.

"Yeah,"

-

"Ashton, answer the door," Michael commands. His eyes are glued to the TV, trying to beat Luke at Mario Kart. There's no way he's going to lose.

"It's your house,"

"It's your weed,"

"He's two hours late, it's probably shit too. Answer your door,"

"Pussy," Michael murmurs. He pauses the game while Luke whines about stopping, and stands up. A door leads right into the basement of Michaels's house from the outside, which is lucky because even though Michaels's parents love her, it's easier for Ashton Montgomery to walk into the house that way.

Michaels's hand rests gracefully on the door handle. His heels rise to check the peephole to make sure it is Ashton Montgomery. Unlike all of his friends and everyone else in his grade, a ground-breaking growth spurt still hasn't happened. His right leg is a hair shorter than his left, so he's anticipating it soon.

Michael opens the door to warm air and the smell of honey and vanilla shampoo. His childhood best friend claps her right hand into his. They move into a Bro Hug and let go when she reaches for the baggie in her hoodie pocket with her left hand. The price falls from her lips.

“Got it,” Michael slips the money carefully into her hand. “Hangout for a few?”

Ashton Montgomery nods and walks into the pathway Michael has opened up. She finds a spot on the couch, opposite to the spot Ashton Irwin has taken over.

"So you're still talking shit on me, Irwin?" She asks, pulling her feet into the couch too so she can sit in the fetal position. Michael sits on the floor to play Mario Kart again but turns around to hand her a sugar cookie his mom had made. "My time is not good enough for you?" Her initials are frosted in blue on a white background.

"Wait, so you're the-"

"-plug? Yeah." She slips the corner of the square cookie into her mouth. It tastes delicious. "I heard you're trying to compete."

"I'm not trying to compete, I'm just-"

"Selling? I don't need helpers." Another piece into her mouth, but this time, it's a straight bite from the cookie. Ashton Irwin looks her over, remembering that she's Michaels friend. She's not some stranger Michael invited inside. His mom made her a cookie.

"Will you let me-" Ashton Irwin starts. Ashton Montgomery opens her mouth to interrupt, but a stern finger in her face shuts her up. "-talk. You can't take up the whole neighborhood. You're 14."

"Fifteen," She corrects. "I turned 15 three days ago."

"Yes, of course," He rolls his eyes. "15 and a drug dealer. How could I have thought any different?" Ashton Montgomery takes a larger bite of her cookie, trying to fit the rest into her mouth. A tiny corner remains. "Let me guess, your favorite alcohol is straight vodka, your favorite movie is American Pie, you overcharge on eighths, and you're the baby of your family.

Michael glances back at Ashton Montgomery to see what she has to say. She swallows hard and dusts her hands on her black sweatpants. She doesn't have to prove herself to someone that doesn't need an answer, but she's sassy.

"I'm the oldest, I don't drink, I don't overcharge, and my favorite movie is Cars,"

"Cars?" Ashton Irwin repeats back.

"Mack is under-appreciated and needs more love despite his mistakes. He didn't mean to leave McQueen behind. McQueen made him drive all night and-"

It was Ashton Irwin's turn to interrupt. "-I've never even seen Cars."

Ashton Montgomery takes her finger and points at him angrily. The rest of her cookie goes into her mouth with her other hand. "You're missing out." Her hands move to push back falling hairs from the messy bun underneath her hood.

"You only like Mack because your dad used to call you Mini Mack," Michael pauses the game of Mario Kart again to turn and face the Ashtons. Luke unpauses the game and waits for Michael to realize.

"Mini Mack?"

"My moms' name is Mackenzie-"

"-and she looks just like her. Mini Mackenzie," Michael finishes.

"Can we not talk about this?" Ashton Montgomery covers her face with her hoodie sleeves, wanting to just crawl into a hole and shy away from everyone.

"Is it like a sore subject of something?"

She jumps up from the couch. Sweaty palms dry themselves on her sweatpants. "We're oversharing." She shoves her hands into her pockets. "Don't get too close to your d*g dealer." She turns to leave.

"I'll walk you out," Ashton Irwin stands up off the couch too. Lucky for him, he's hit a growth spurt. He's taller than her by almost a foot. "Did you walk here?" Ashton Irwin is barefoot and not wanting to go far in pajama pants and a shirt.

"I live next door," He watches her piercing move as she sasses him. Just the smallest movement to the side. "I can walk myself home safely."

"I'm being gentleman-ly,"

"I'm being independent,"

"If you're going to be like that, then I'm just trying to ask for your phone number, Ashton,"

"Well you suck at it," Ashton Montgomery pulls her phone from her sweatpants pocket and smiles. A wad of twenties fell back into her pocket. "Here."

"I think this is the most confusing encounter we've had in a long time," Luke says, trying to figure out how to talk about the two without having to say full names. Ashton One and Ashton Two?

"Yeah," Ashton Montgomery accepts her phone back from him. He'd texted himself and inserted his last name into his contact information on her phone. "Still 'wanna walk me home?"

"Of course," he reaches his hand for hers.

-

Luke pops the top off a bottle of beer and hands it to Kalypso. She takes two large gulps from it and grimaces when she remembers she hates beer. It goes down sticky and leaves an aftertaste she's not fond of.

"Oh shit," Luke says after retiring into a lawn chair with his beer. "I forgot how much you hate beer." He takes a large drink to indulge in the tension.

"Bro, I could've told you that," Ashton laughs and sits across from Kalypso. There's a bonfire raging in between them, screaming in flames and burning sticks. Kalypso wants to jump into the fire so she can burn alive. She wants to disappear from Ashton's view.

Without thinking about the gross taste, the way it feels when it hits her stomach, the way too much too quickly twists her light-weight head. She downs the rest of it and throws the bottle into a bucket of glass far away. Ashton sassily looks away as if he were cursing Kalypso out in his mind and sips. He's not much of a drinker either.

Kalypso stands up from her chair and sets off to find Calum. If she can get away from Ashton, she'll be okay.

"Where are you going?" Like asks, getting ready to stand up too. Calum's backyard is spacious, equipped with a pool, a deck with a hot tub insert, and tons of play area for his dogs. Kalypso would be the one to get lost.

"I'm giving Calum his wedding present," Kalypso replies. The chairs they're gathered in aren't far from the door, tucked into a barren area you wouldn't see without a roaring fire, so if she turns the corner the spotlight should illuminate Calum. "Leave me alone."

She walks a few steps to the corner and notices everything. She's only walked from the laundry room door to the fire pit, instead of the glass door to the wholesome part. "Aye! Cal!" Kalypso calls to gather his attention to her.

The dark-haired man looks up from his phone, obviously distracted from walking to the fire. He waves her over with a smile. "'S up?"

She pulls her right hand out to clasp into his and he feels something burn into his palm. He pulls his hand away to examine what it is. Green nuggets inside of a baggie.

"No fucking way, 'Lypso," he grins wide and starts to open the baggie.

"Should be about five grams, maybe a bit more,"

"Oh my god I've never loved you more than I do right now," he pulls her into a close hug, pressing Kalypso uncomfortably into his chest. Calum hugs, as everyone calls them. He forgets about how small people can be, and sometimes just squishes them.

"Good to know that I'm only good for weed,"

"You're good for so much more than that," Calum rocks them both back and forth in the hug, wobbling on his feet. An extreme Calum Hug. "So much more."

"Like making Ashton Irwin uncomfortable,"

Calum squeezes tighter. Kalypso can barely breathe. "That's the highlight of my year, bitch. I've never seen one man so on edge by a tiny woman."

"Calum you're killing me,"

"Oh shit," Calum finally lets go. Kalypso's insides fall from their squeezed positions back to their regular programming. "weed mans still got weed, huh?"

"What type of person would I be if I didn't?"

Calum high fives her. Right hand to left. "Why do you always dap up with your right, but you're left-handed?"

Kalypso smiles. Calum surprisingly smells beer on her. "You see," she says, running and pulling him to the fire. "Because you're right-handed, and he's right-handed, and he's right-handed, and he's right-handed." She points one by one to Michael, Luke, and Ashton. "You just learn how to."

"I guess so," Calum answers. "So since you don't drink, you want something else? I can load a bowl if you want?"

"Sure," Kalypso smiles. She hasn't smoked with close friends in years. Before walking into their graduation, Kalypso, Michael, Luke, and Calum all smoked a joint in the parking lot. None of them remember graduating. That was the last time they all hung out.

-

"Ashton!" Mackenzie Montgomery yells when she enters their homey kitchen from the garage. Jasper and James, Ashton's twin little brothers, enter in behind her. "What's for di-" Mackenzie stops to survey the scene. Both Ashtons dressed in matching band shirts at the dining room table, enjoying some type of dinner. Two scented candles burn in between them. "I didn't realize you were having friends over. You're supposed to tell me."

Ashton Montgomery wipes her mouth with a paper towel. "You weren't answering your phone. I thought it would be okay." She picks up a shrimp from her bowl of Alfredo and pasta to put into Jasper's mouth.

"This is Iron Man," James holds up an action figure missing both legs. Ashton Irwin nods his head and takes another bite of pasta. "Who's your favorite superhero?"

"I'm sorry, I was just really busy," Mackenzie sighs. "Sorry for my disheveled state, sweetheart, I just got off the ICU floor so I'm done for." Mackenzie sets her belongings on the counter a few feet behind the wooden table. "Boys, leave Ashton and her friend alone for once please."

The twins are identical, including their need for glasses. Jasper's wispy brown hair falls in his face and into his black frame glasses while he munches on the shrimp his sister gave him. He's the so-called 'nicer' twin.

"You look like you like Superman," James tells Ashton Irwin. Ashton smiles at the young boy.

James is the outgoing of the two. He swoops his hair to the side to free up his tiny forehead, unlike Jasper. He's more sociable, open, and willing to meet new people. The Stella of the boys. He flirts, he makes friends with, and charms most girls he runs into. Including Calum's sister.

"Where's Stel?" Mackenzie asks, moving from the counter to the sink. "Ashton Kalypso, I'm going to beat you if you don't learn to put things into the dishwasher." She picks Tupperware the shrimp Alfredo had been in and rinses it out. The dishwasher opens, and clean dishes shine. "Ashton!"

Ashton Montgomery rolls her eyes and slides her food to Jasper. James steps away from Ashton Irwin to start eating out of his sisters' bowl. Neither of them uses a fork, causing Mackenzie to groan.

"It's not my fault when Stella doesn't empty the dishwasher," Ashton Montgomery sasses. The lip piercing moves with her lip, and every time it does, Ashton Irwin just wants to stare. Sass is her biggest quality, the thing she's the best at. "Like, ever!"

"She's twelve, give her a break,"

"She's actually thirteen, Mother, but if you say so,"

"Ashton Kalypso Montgomery, can you please not be so sassy all the time? Do you know how to be normal?" Mackenzie turns from the dishwasher and remembers that there's a guest in the house. "I promise I'm not bullying my child, I'm just joking around." She takes a deep breath. "I'm Mackenzie, Ash's mom, but Michael just calls me mom like every other damn person I run into."

"If you're hungry, help yourself, blah blah blah," Ashton Montgomery slumps back in her chair. "I already gave him the rundown."

"So if you make a mess?" Mackenzie asks.

"You clean it up," Ashton Irwin answers.

"Ah! I like you already!" Mackenzie says. She pulls her black hair from her face and into a ponytail. And Ashton Irwin can see the resemblance entirely. "I'm going to go get freshened up. Don't give the boys any dessert, please. And, oh! I never got your name."

Ashton Irwin stands up to shake Mackenzie's hand. She's taller than her daughter, but Ashton Montgomery is an exact carbon copy of her mother. "I'm Ashton." He holds his hand out.

Mackenzie takes it. "Ashton?" She looks at her flushed-faced daughter slumping further into her chair. Mackenzie's eyes go wide. "Oh! I've heard about you."

"Is it bad?"

"Not my place to tell,"

Ashton looks over at Ashton at the table. "Really, huh?"

-

Taking in a breath full of smoke from the end of a pipe, Kalypso leans backward in the lawn chair. Calum's got those expensive lawn chairs with cushions, and a fire pit built into a table. Kalypso's body is warm from the fire and the guys surrounding it. Calum to her left, Luke to her right, Michael on the other side of Luke, Ashton between him and Calum. Laid out in front of her, past Ashton's head, she can see the city she grew up in. Lights that never seem to turn off. Cars and people that will never know it's her sitting on top of the hill, her back facing an expensive house.

She lets go of the smoke in her lungs, a cloud falling from her mouth. So thick and warm it blends in with the smoke from the fire. Luke snaps his finger in her direction, garnering her attention from the pretty lights in front of her. She blows the remains of the smoke in his face, turning toward him. He's chewing on the edge of a cinnamon-flavored graham cracker.

"Truth or dare?" he nods his head toward her. He leans his head back to take the last of his graham cracker. Luke's hands rubbed themselves together to get rid of crumbs and he finally rests them in his lap.

"I'm twenty-three, Luke, not twelve," Kalypso answers. She's not interested in the game.

"Just pick,"

"Fine," she presses the opening of her pipe back to her mouth, ready to ignite her personal flames again. The fires of her drug reflect in the eyes of Ashton's, and he dreads the flick of her thumb on a blue lighter. "Truth."

"Wimp," Luke smiles at her and her lighter ignites. Ashton can't help but watch her, ignoring Michael and Calum's conversation. "Where do you work?"

She breathes in deeply and pulls away from the glass. "I paint custom canvases for people." She lets go of the smoke, turning her head to her right shoulder so she doesn't hit Luke in the face with it. "Follow me on Instagram, a-k-m-underscore-arts."

"Wait," Ashton pauses. He waves his hand in the air to cut her off. "I think I just ordered a canvas from you for Auzzie. Auzilynn, A-u-z-i-l-y-n-n,"

Of course, Kalypso thinks. "Yeah, I think you did," She doesn't want to talk to Ashton. She wants to forget he exists. Kalypso wants the broken gems inside of her to fuse back together, but she can't do that. She doesn't know why. "Uh . . . Mike, truth or dare?"

Michael glances at Kalypso. "Dare?"

Kalypso blinks quickly, forgetting the feeling of a spinning world from her low tolerance. Her eyes close for a few seconds when she balances herself and sets the pipe down on the table surrounding the fire. "Go jump in the pool fully clothed."

"Now you're the one acting twelve," Michael laughs. "But bet. It's hot out here anyway."

-

“Look at the moon," Ashton points a steady finger to the glowing globe in the sky, lighting their way down the bumpy sidewalks. Eventually, Ashton hopes he'll have a car, and when he and Kalypso hang out, they won't have to skate back to either house. "It's so pretty,"

"Not prettier than you," Kalypso blows a kiss toward him, just a few feet ahead. Her skateboard is smaller than his, but the bottom is scratched up and doesn't have as much paint as it used to. Emblems from Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Sublime, AC/DC, and Nirvana's smiley face were once painted over a pink sunset. Scratches from skatepark equipment are starting to fade the emblems.

Ashton catches the kiss in a hand and releases it to the sky until a horrific scream brings him back. Lying on the cement a few feet away from a crack in the cement, Kalypso's lying on the ground. Ashton stop's his skateboard and discards it in the grass. The moon illuminates her clear left cheek.

"Are you okay?" He slides to the ground next to her and grabs her left arm to shift her to her right side. Somewhat of a rash on her right cheek, her wrist cocked oddly, and she just giggles. "'Lypso, are you okay?"

She continues giggling, her chest bubbling from the ground and bouncing her curled hair. "It hurts like a bitch," Kalypso giggles when she's hurt, Ashton realizes. "You should kiss it and make it feel better." An odd coping mechanism, but at least she's not crying.

"Kiss what?"

"My broken fucking hand,"

Ashton presses his lips to her hand. Soft buttons of pink kiss lightly. "Better?"

"Oh second thought, I think I busted my lip open too," Kalypso smiles. Burning, stinging is flowing through her wrist and she winces when she tries to move her fingers. "It needs a kiss." It would be impossible to explain to Mackenzie, to tell her that Kalypso wrecked her skateboard and still manage to ride when she heals. Mackenzie will want to ban skateboards from Kalypso, Stella, and the boys.

Ashton doesn't think, he just does what she asked. As humans ruin everything they touch, Ashton and Kalypso ruin each other in ways that make growth. Like destroying the ground to plant a blooming tree or trimming long hair so it will grow longer and healthier. Ashton's lips ruin watermelon lip balm on Kalypso's, and Kalypso ruins Ashton's wonder of what it tasted like.

A fire ignited between the two, leaving them both breathless after a two-second kiss. Flowers grew from both of them, sprouting beautiful things. They can't believe themselves.

Ashton, the brunette boy that was a year older than everyone else in his grade, kissed the girl he thinks of first every morning until unconsciousness brings him to dreams of marriage and spending the rest of his life with her. The girl that smiles and makes him photograph the way butterflies land and stick to her hair, the way Ashton looks happiest on rainy days with clouds looming in the sky, and everything she never wants to forget.

"I win," Kalypso smiles, even though her entire body is shaking. Ashton sits up and wraps arms underneath her back and knees. Kalypso's pulled from the ground and she kicks until her feet are planted. "I bet Luke you'd do it tonight."

"Do what tonight?"

"Kiss me."

"So you're telling me you broke your hand intentionally,"

Kalypso sighs. "Nope," she looks at her already-swollen hand. It's terrifying. "Go hard or go home, right?"

-

"Truth or dare?" Michael laughs, his shirt gone, and hair wild. "Ashton." he sips a beer, feeling some type of buzz plaguing his mind.

"Truth," Ashton answers. He's holding his beer more than the rest of them. With Kalypso present, he physically cannot become intoxicated. He doesn't know how, but he knows that no matter what she's to be protected. After years of going out drinking with her in high school, he made sure she was safe before he was.

"C'mon man, all you pick is truth,"

"I don't want to go into the pool,"

Michael scoffs. "Fine. What happened two days before graduation, Irwin?"

Kalypso looks up from the ground. She can't breathe. The flowers inside of her started to choke her airways until she knew that Ashton was watching her. Act normal. Act normal. She pretends to be unbothered. Everyone can see through it.

"What happened?" She whispers and takes Luke's glass of whiskey. She drinks all of it at once and hands the ice back to his protesting whines. "I'd like to hear this."

"I didn't do anything, actually,"

"Really, because-"

"-I went to a party," Ashton leans forward to set his beer down. Elbows on knees, hands clasped together. "And I drank something that Sage had given me. I woke up three hours later to Luke screaming at me. Sage told him I cheated on you."

The first time he'd been able to say it directly, out loud, in the presence of anybody else. The first time Kalypso felt she could talk about it too.

"Really? I heard-"

"-Where's your fucking evidence, Ashton?"

Kalypso's eyes went wide. She hadn't been called that name in forever. Her family, her friends, everyone around her adjusted to her new name. She stands up from her chair. She no longer cares what happens, she no longer cares if she's ever around him again. "Where's your evidence that you didn't, Ashton?" The ache in her heart tells her that she still loves him as she did five years ago.

"Video evidence dating that the entire time I was asleep in my bedroom, she was at the diner on George Street telling everyone she was going to prank us with that,"

"Bullshit,"

"Why would I lie? Five years, five fucking years, 'Lypso! Why would I lie about that?"

Kalypso blinks hard, frustrated, and stares at Calum. "I'm going back to my hotel. I'll see you in the morning." She looks back at Ashton. "You can go fuck yourself."

-

"Eight, nine, ten, eleven-" A road of thunder interrupts Kalypso. Lightening lights the setting sky. "It's eleven miles away."

"Really? The radar says it's already storming," Ashton replies, smiling. Kalypso pushes his phone from his hands. Being overdramatic, Ashton falls from his side into a soft thump on his back. "Look, you're so rough you knocked me over!"

"Liar!" Kalypso giggles. Her right hand, jailed in a blue cast, clenches her blanket when she lightly pressed into his chest with her left. "I think you're perfectly fine."

After breaking her wrist, Mackenzie put her daughter on house arrest. Ashton, Michael, and any other friends can visit, but Kalypso can't go see them until she's healed.

"Dinner!" Mackenzie yells from the bottom of their carpeted stairwell. Kalypso stands up from the comfy bed and grabs her phone off the charger.

When Kalypso was old enough to decorate her own bedroom, she took advantage of the design. She was given two closets, one with sliding doors, and one that has a single door leading to a room of shelves. Years prior her uncle helped her remove the sliding doors and shove her full-sized mattress into the space. Pillows along the back of the closet, where the widest part of her bed is. She has a perfect view of her TV and the windows.

"Ashton, dinner," Kalypso laughs. Her hand ruffles his messy curls and giggles at his bandana choice. The same color as her hair- cherry red. "C'mon, I'm hungry!"

"You're going to have to force me, Hungry, I'm comfy,"

"Oh yeah?" Off of her nightstand, she grabs a disposable camera and snaps a photo of Ashton, his stubborn self, and all of his glory. "One day, we're going to be twenty-something, and you're going to look at these photos and say 'thank goodness I'm not that stubborn anymore'."

"And you're going to wonder why you have always been dramatic and use disposable cameras."

"It's easier to print and hang up,"

"I think you're a little bit obsessed with my face," Ashton points to the wall surrounding the bed. Photos of Ashton and Kalypso, some with Michael and the guys, or Stella and Kalypso the few times they've gotten along. She changes the switch of her fairy lights to illuminate the area. She never needed an overhead light with floor-to-ceiling windows scattered around.

"I am not!" Kalypso smiles. Her hair is messy, wavy, and poofy in different directions. She tucks as much as she can behind her ear. Ashton grabs the camera to snap a photo of her reaching for him. "Please! I'm hungry!"

"What'd your mom make for dinner?"

"Grilled salmon,"

"You hate fish,"

"But you don't!" She tugs harder on his hand. "I'm hungry!"

"What are you going to eat?"

"Grandma is making Jasper and I chicken strips," Calypso falls backward onto her hardwood floor when Ashton stands up. He catches her when her butt grazes the ground and pulls her into him. "C'mon!"

"So you get chicken strips and I get fish?"

"Yes!" Kalypso continues pulling Ashton out of her room, down the stairs. Stella and the boys have already made it to the bottom. "It's your favorite. Last night we had my favorite, and tomorrow we get James' favorite."

"You just had to include me, huh?" Ashton asks while he descends from the top floor. Kalypso's two stairs ahead of him.

She shakes her head. "Actually, I requested shrimp alfredo for dinner but no. Mom wanted me to have something you like," She lies.

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh!" They end up at the bottom of the stairs and round the left corner to the kitchen. "You're here every day. Might as well include you."

James groans, looking at his sisters' boyfriend. "Do you ever go home?" With Ashton in the picture, James didn't get to spend as much time with Kalypso.

"James Samuel!" Mackenzie calls. "That's not very nice."

Pre-Ashton, James, and Jasper could fall asleep in Calypso's bed with her. When Ashton and Kalypso started dating, Ashton started sticking around until she falls asleep and goes home when he knows she is officially out for the night. The times Ashton stays with the guys, he calls her to talk when she feels drowsy. It's their routine.

Mackenzie sets a tray of chicken strips on the table for the non-fish-liking children. "Ash, can you- My Ashton," She smiles, uncomfortable. "Ashton Kalypso, can you get the tea from the outside fridge?"

"I vow we call her 'Lypso!" Jasper says, already stealing chicken strips. His dark hair falls over his auburn eyes.

"No!" James answers. "Ashton One and Ashton Two."

"Or," Kalypso holds a finger in the air. "Ditch Ashton entirely and become Fletcher and Kalypso." Ashton gives her a side-eye glare. "What?"

"I'm not going by Fletcher,"

"Noob,"

"Kalypso, tea!" Mackenzie demands and points to the garage door. Kalypso disappears inside.

"We should just sell Ashton Kalypso on eBay!"

"James, we aren't selling your sister," Mackenzie shakes her head. She sits on the first chair to the right, and across from Jasper. Ashton and Kalypso always sit next to each other on the other side of the boys.

"But she's a girl," He grimaces. "And she talks a lot now."

"I would rather her talk a lot than be silent again," Mackenzie says. "Ashton, you're a real blessing to her. You have no idea."

"What do you mean?"

"Until last year she never really talked to anyone but Michael and Stella," Mackenzie starts. Ashton couldn't believe that at one point, Kalypso was so shy she couldn't talk. "I swear she talked for an hour straight the day she met you."

"Mom," Kalypso groans, closing the garage door behind her. A pitcher of sun tea half mixed with lemonade in her hands. The only thing the boys will drink besides soda. "There are some things you don't have to share."

-

Three shots down, as many as it takes to go. Kalypso, even hating alcohol, wants to forget his name. She wants to forget that he exists in the real world and that he's so close, but so far away. All she can do is scream his name and wonder why she wasn't good enough. They were too young to know about love, and if they weren't they were too dumb to think that it could last forever.

Kalypso forgot the massive bar and hangout area Michael had in his basement. When the five, and sometimes Stella, became known and interested in alcohol, Michael's was the house to get it from. Easy access, nobody realized anything was touched. Either there, or stealing food from Kalypso's refrigerator, you could find any of them.

Luke sets down a box in front of her at the bar. "Ashton says this is for you." He slides it closer to her. Her palm stops it.

She doesn't want anything to do with Ashton. His stupid box, his stupid face, his stupid mistakes. She was rejecting his presence and everything that comes with it. "Shove it up his ass" She put another shot into her mouth and swallowed. Four in. So many more to go.

"Kal, can you please just take it?"

She slams her glass down onto the marble counter. "What's in it?" If it's stupid, there was no point in opening it.

"No idea,"

Kalypso tucks her pink thumbnail at the paper tape. She is just a slice, just barely a poke, away from whatever Ashton is up to.

"Probably just giving things back,"

"Five years later?"

"You never know." Luke grabs a knife from the other side of the bar and slices the top open quickly. Flaps fly open, revealing several things inside. Michael adjusts off a barstool to get a closer look.

Papers, indented and worn by ballpoint pens of all colors. Stuffed animals, jewelry, familiar things Ashton has given to Kalypso and she returned. Off the top, Luke lays a stuffed stingray on the bar. Kalypso loved that stingray, named it Dionysius, and kept it amongst her pillows for years.

A necklace with Ashton engraved in a silver plate, two stuffed bears his mom had made, and rocks they'd painted together. Movie ticket stubs from every date, and the millions of photos they'd taken together. She glued them to the inside when she gave him the brown box. She gave him the box that way and he never changed it. Maybe they weren't too naive to know what love is.

"Look," Michael says and grabs a photo from the box, pulling it off easily. "You were so small." He gives it to Kalypso to see.

Wide-eyed, a mouth full of braces, and wearing Ashton's clothes, Kalypso was sitting in Ashton's lap. Her hand blocking most of her face, leaving only Ashton and a thirteen-year-old Luke to be seen. Her hand was in a cast-- the photo was from when they first started dating.

Kalypso grabs another photo from the box. Sitting in the front, she was the smallest and not looking in the mirror like everyone else was. Kalypso's bedroom-- her mirror covered in plastic flowers, the boys and Stella posing with her. Calum to her left, Stella to her right, Ashton behind her, Luke behind Calum, Michael behind Stella. Stella had taken the photo. Kalypso was at least seventeen.

On the bottom of the box was a photo printed on regular printer paper of the fire she used to engulf his belongings. A jersey she had with IRWIN on the back for all of his football games, his clothes, and the rest of their photos.

"He kept this for five years?" She shakes her head. "Now, who can't get over who?"

Luke reads a paper in the box. "You should look at this." A giant blue #1 shone at the top of it.

' 'Lypso, I tried to talk to you and your mom yesterday to explain what happened and the whole story. You wouldn't give me the time of day. I wouldn't either, to be honest. '

She reads it aloud. The letter continues, explaining the box. Everything inside was the same and he didn't want it. Another paper, labeled #2, had a list.

1.I've written coordinates down. These are all the places where I knew I couldn't live without you. Something significant happened at each one and I remember them all perfectly. Plug it into google and remember, for me.

2. You can go there. If you want to pretend you're in a fanfiction of a young adult movie where we'll end up together. If you do, I have something there to remind you of it all.

3. You don't have to forgive me or take me back. I just want you to know how much I still love you.

4. They're not in order.

Coordinates:

"Either of you have Google Earth?" Kalypso asks. Luke pulls his phone out. She enters the first set and waits. "Literally we're right here." Kalypso looks for answers in the men.

"How about you go look in the downstairs living room," Luke hints. "That's where-"

"-That's where he asked for my number,"

"And you still have an interrupting problem."

Kalypso rolls her eyes, but can't seem to get downstairs fast enough. A photo is waiting for her where Ashton sat that night. She grabs the paper; it has something else to say.

"I'm the oldest, I don't drink, I don't overcharge, and my favorite movie is Cars." "Cars?" "Mack is under-appreciated and deserves more love despite his mistakes,"

I swear that was the most eye-opening and Kalypso thing I'd heard, Mini Mack

"I remember that night," Kalypso can see it.

"15 and a drug dealer. How could I have thought any different?" Ashton Montgomery takes a larger bite of her cookie, trying to fit the rest into her mouth. A tiny corner remains. "Let me guess, your favorite alcohol is straight vodka, your favorite movie is American Pie, you overcharge on eighths, and you're the baby of your family."

"First night Ashton had bought from me personally," Kalypso felt the warmth through her entire body. Ashton remembered.

"I'm the oldest, I don't drink, I don't overcharge, and my favorite movie is Cars,"

"Cars?" Ashton Irwin repeats back.

"Mack is under-appreciated and needs more love despite his mistakes. He didn't mean to leave McQueen behind. McQueen made him drive all night and-"

It was Ashton Irwin's turn to interrupt. "-I've never even seen Cars."

Ashton Montgomery takes her finger and points at him angrily. The rest of her cookie goes into her mouth with her other hand. "You're missing out." Her hands move to push back falling hairs from the messy bun underneath her hood.

He remembered one of the most insignificant things about her.

"You only like Mack because your dad used to call you Mini Mack," Michael pauses the game of Mario Kart again to turn and face the Ashtons. Luke unpauses the game and waits for Michael to realize.

"Mini Mack?"

"My moms' name is Mackenzie-"

"-and she looks just like her. Mini Mackenzie," Michael finishes.

The next coordinate was where she wrecked her skateboard. Taped to a broken stick is a photo of Kalypso laying on Ashton's bed with him. It was a few days after when everyone finally caught up with decorating her cast, and Mackenzie didn't realize Kalypso had left the house. She wore a white tank top, one strap falling off her arm. Right hand bandaged up, lays in Ashton's next to her. Kalypso was surprised by the camera Ashton's sister randomly ran up to them with. She caught a photo while standing on top of Ashton's bed.

"You should kiss it and make it feel better."

She still has the scar from the wreck on her wrist. A reminder of that night for the rest of her life. The feeling of Ashton's lips on hers. Warm cement painful under her palms.

"Kiss what?"

"My broken fucking hand,"

Ashton presses his lips to her hand. Soft buttons of pink kiss lightly. "Better?"

"Oh second thought, I think I busted my lip open too," Kalypso smiles. Burning, stinging is flowing through her wrist and she winces when she tries to move her fingers. "It needs a kiss."

He remembered eating dinner at Kalypso's house every night for eight weeks straight. The day her cast was removed, they went on their first date.

Makenzie made them do an uncomfortable photoshoot before their showing of Cars. A dress, a bowtie that clipped on, and uncomfortable shoes. Teaching Kalypso how to drive, laughing when she screamed while merging on the freeway. Video games, arcades, records. Their one-year dinner catered by Michael and Calum, listening to 2000s rap the whole time. Kalypso surprised Ashton with the jersey. One time Kalypso fell asleep on Ashton at Michael's house. Kalypso showing off her license when she got the guts to get it. A bonfire at the beach for Ashton's birthday, even though they couldn't swim.

They stargazed every night of the summer until the sun rose or sleep overcame them. Where they met for a concert, where Ashton parked his car at a drive-in date, Ashton getting a bunch of a facemask mixture stuck in his curls.

Their last year together. Driving around for hours on end, listening to AC/DC, and laughing. They always bought slushies beforehand. An entire day on a boat in the lake. Bikinis, tanning lotion, and seven of Kalypso's cousins. All he could see was her. Kalypso got her first tattoo at 18-- a dinosaur encased in a glass jar. A 50s themed Disney Movie marathon Luke, Calum, and Stella helped Ashton plan. The day before they broke up.

The day before they broke up.

'I'll always love you. -Ashton'

She drops the last thing into the box. Does Ashton still love her? Impossible to think about. He has a daughter, probably a girlfriend, probably an entire life she would be imploding on. She puts the box in front of her waist. Kalypso feels bare and like nothing before. "Can you take me to the hotel?" Ashton knew Kalypso better than he knew himself.

Luke nods his head and motions for her to walk with him to Michael's car. On the back window, there's a penis drawn in the dirt.

It's easier for Kalypso to be in the dark, wiping falling tears like nothing. Headlights illuminating the road, not her. Luke pats her hand on the armrest. She was once hard, a badass around everyone but Ashton, and now the only scary part about her is her quick wit.

-

Stella set up the hotel room. Toiletries in the bathroom, pajamas on the bed. The sisters decided to share a suitcase for their two-day trip. They'll fly back tomorrow night-- they'll go back to their apartments after picking Magik up from Jaspers, and Kalypso will spend all night trying to catch up on painting orders.

"What's that?" Stella asks, folding a shirt over her hands. She's getting ready for a shower. Instead of replying, Kalypso sets the box on Stella's bed. Her legs buckle underneath and her sister has to catch her before she shatters into the carpet.

Muttered words. Teas. Stella opens the overly stuffed box that they couldn't close. She is amazed, reading everything Ashton had to say about Kalypso. The photographs, the concert tickets to Blink-182 and some country singers. A stapled-together packet of Kalypso's favorite of everything. Songs, movies, food, drinks, even her favorite names. The joke she always made about naming their kids Asher and Ashley. Her favorite colors and the book she constantly read over and over again and became surprised at the outcome every time.

Ashton knew everything about her when they dated. Things she never realized herself. She knew him as he knew her. The day before graduation, though, he had made his decision.

-

Kalypso applied a white shimmer to her tear ducts. Dabbing opposite of a red smokey eye. Practicing her graduation makeup one last time and trying to get Ashton's opinion about it.

"How many of my bandanas are you going to steal?" Ashton asks, throwing another bandana toward his girlfriend. She wipes the glitter off her middle finger onto her blue jeans.

"We both can wear one," She folds the bandana up into a strap and hands it back to Ashton. "Put it on. You'd look cute."

"Cute? I'm supposed to be intimidating." Ashton giggles, but reluctantly folds the strip over his forehead and ties it at the base of his neck. "Now we look alike."

"Is that a bad thing?" Kalypso asks.

"Nope," Ashton stands up from Kalypso's bed to stand behind her. All he can think about is how much he loves her, how beautiful she always has been. Freshly dyed, cherry red hair chopped at her shoulders, curly from braids. "Are we still going to the beach after graduation?" She had tied a bandana in her hair to hold her hair back too. Black and white, like Ashton's.

"Yeah, but after the graduation party,"

Ashton grimaces. He has a surprise for her at the beach. A stupid party will get in the way.

"C'mon, Ash, your mom is throwing it for all of us,"

"She's such a cock block,"

"Ashton!"

"I'm kidding," Ashton giggles again.

"Now, what do you think of this look?"

"I think that you look beautiful no matter what," Ashton smiles. Her lipstick matches her hair and looks like it would stain his lips. "With or without makeup."

Calypso sighs. "You always say that," She grabs her phone from the floor. A text to Stella asking where she is.

"And?"

"You have to say that,"

If Ashton never said it, he'd be a liar. She is his princess, more goddess-like than anyone had ever seen. "Do you want me to tell you if you look ugly."

"Yes,"

"If I only ever told you when you looked ugly, I'd be mute,"

Kalypso rolls her eyes. "Of course you would say that."

Ashton's head reaches over her right shoulder to press a kiss on her cheek. "You look like the moon and every star in the galaxy."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I can spend three summers straight watching you every time you're around and still get excited for the next one,"

Kalypso blushes. "You're so cheesy."

"I know," A ding from his phone distracts Ashton from his girlfriend. "Luke wants to know if he can come back with Stella."

"Sure,"

Ashton types quickly. The text sends. Luke's on his way with Stella. "Are you excited to be done with school?"

"Yes," Kalypso smiles. Braces removed, teeth are pearly white and straight. "We can hang out so much more than before. We don't have to worry about curfews or my brothers."

"Still dreaming about an apartment with a clawfoot bathtub and large windows everywhere?"

"With high ceilings and at least one cat? Of course,"

"We'll move to Melbourn and live happily ever after,"

"Melbourn? You've never said anything about Melbourn before?"

"I may be trying to pull a few strings,"

"Ash!" Kalypso gasps.

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to go or-"

"-Stella entering the room! Please redress!" Stella announces, pushing Kalypso's bedroom door open. "What's the tea?"

"We'll talk about this later, okay?" Kalypso assures.

"Of course," Ashton hopes she's okay with it.

-

"He tried so hard on all of this, oh my, . . . wow," Stella's still pulling things from the box, looking over everything included. Her finger catches on a CD. "What's on this?" Kalypso has no clue but grabs her laptop out of her suitcase.

Her finger shakily presses play and a screen of dark lighting and an ugly girl sitting in a diner booth shows up. It's Sage.

Long, black hair pulled into an overly large messy bun that outweighed her entire head. A square-shaped face and a pig nose permanently turned upward.

Sage shoves a french fry into her mouth while smiling. The person behind the camera asks what Sage was so happy about. She shoves another fry into her mouth. "I came up with a genius idea. Prank the high school sweethearts. There's no way that shit can last forever."

"How'd you do it?" A boy sitting next to her asks.

"I put Nyquil in Ashton's drinks. Knocked him out cold. I'll tell him that he got super drunk and we had sex. The worst thing that'll happen is they'll break up." Sage giggles, covering her mouth. Her fingers are manicured with long acrylics and red nail polish. "I have to show this to like Stella or something so Kalypso isn't that depressed."

"Don't you want them to break up so you can date Ashton though?"

"Ew!" Sage shoves her friend next to her. "I could never. Not into weirdos."

Stella pulls her sister into her arms. The biggest hug she could offer to her best friend. Kalypso partly crawls into her lap, feeling like shit.

"I'm an idiot,"

"You didn't know,"

"Did you ever see this?"

"Not once. I haven't even talked to her since I was like sixteen,"

"I should've believed him." He probably has a wife, another kid on the way, a whole life with no room for Kalypso.

Stella grabs the box and turns it upside down. "He kept all of this for so long." All of the contents spill out onto the floor. "What's that?" She points to a tiny velvet box on the carpet. It only reminds Kalypso of one thing.

"No way," Stella passes the box to Kalypso. "Is this-" She cracks the box open and a gold ring with two silver diamonds on top stares at her. "Oh my God."

Stella picks up the ring. "I . . . I remember this. You and I have the same sized fingers so he made me go with him while you were at work one day,"

"You knew?" Tingles flow through Kalypso's body.

"He was going to propose on the beach. After you graduated. He was trying so hard to get his mom to cancel the party so you'd make it for the sunset."

Kalypso cries even harder, thinking about her past.

-

Kalypso ducks her head underneath the water of her hotel bathtub. Chocolate brown locks billow around her like she's some magical creature or a mermaid. She remembers when she was younger and would've stained the bathtub with different hair dye concoctions. The happiest moments in her life included colored hair -- and Ashton. Chocolate brown, like a symbolistic feature telling her she's not living to her fullest potential.

Her Last dye was that cherry red before graduation. Ashton brought out everything she loved about herself. Quickly, she resurfaced, gasping for breath. She couldn't live without Ashton. Stella threw her clean clothes and watched her run to the passenger door of Michael's car. They sped off, driving way faster than they should have.

Michael stopped in front of Ashton's moms' house, watching Kalypso knock on Ashton's door. Her hair is still dripping wet and staining the back of her shirt. Michael's anticipating someone answering the door. It's just Ashton, Auzilynn, and his mom. Someone will answer that knows Kalypso.

Ashton's the one to open the door. He can't even speak before her.

"You say you fell in love with me in the basement and you remembered that I'm Mini Mack. You stayed with me for eight weeks from the time school got out until I fell asleep when I broke my hand. You set up dates for me and you with Michael, Luke, Calum, or Stella creating stupid pasta dishes with mystery meat because we never had money because we were teenagers. You taught me how to drive. You put up with my constant pictures and annoying comments.

You spent summers with me on a trampoline looking at the sky because I told you that seeing the stars made me happy. You gave me one of your football jerseys when you would wear the other so we would match. You called me beautiful all the time, every single day, and never once let me forget it. You made me feel emotions I didn't know I had. I drowned in you, but yet," Kalypso finally looks up from the ground to lock eyes with Ashton. Her blue orbs lock with brown ones. "I believed someone with a fake tan and an ugly nose over you."

"It was because everyone else did," Ashton says. He's stone-faced, afraid that if he shows emotion he'll crumble. She's his drug, even after five years of straight hatred. "Luke, Michael, Calum, Stella," He looks away. Ashton can't stand to look at her anymore without turning into the high school boy in love with her. He spent five angry years going to sleep without knowing she was safe and secure with a pillow, a blanket, and that stupid stingray. "They all believed her because I couldn't remember."

"Yeah, but I should've trusted you," Kalypso starts tearing up. Her voice can paint pictures of nature scenes you only see in dreams, but her tears could destroy villages and towns. Ashton holds a hand out to her, wanting to bring her inside. "I was so stupid."

"You didn't know," Kalypso takes his hand for the warmth of a home again. One she spent a lot of time during her adolescence. The carpet is still warm and white, the couch with a strain on the armrest from when Ashton spilled something on it. His bedroom upstairs, where they made out one too many times. Her home away from home.

"You wanted to go to the beach," Kalypso whispers. "You . . . you wanted to go to the beach, and right before, I ruined it. I ruined it all. And now you have Auzzie and a maybe wife and I'm never going to be worth anything in your life but just right now I want you to consider, do you still love me? Right here, right now, that's all I need to know and I'll leave you alone."

Ashton pulls Kalypso close to his body for a hug. He smells the same, feels the same, and radiates the same energy he had for several years. "Ashton Kalypso," Ashton softly smiles, trying to lighten the mood. "You overthink way too much."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I could never stop loving you,"

[tired-imagination]

“Sucker For Pain” - Part 1

Here is the story of one of my MHA ocs, Bakugo Mizuki 

MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING: This ENTIRE story has heavy themes of rape, sex, depression, drug use, murder, PTSD, pedophelia, and suicide. It is not for the faint of heart. 

Read at your own risk. 

(I have a discord server! Link: https://discord.gg/XvJyBnZ )

Atsuhiro stared at the woman on the bed that he had come to love, her body still. Her breaths ghosted on the oxygen mask, her eyes closed as if she was sleeping. He ran his thumbs over her knuckles, fighting back tears. 

“Mizuki, wake up. I need you.” 

~19 years earlier~ 

“Please, you need to take her.” Mitsuki held the small girl in her arms to the old woman, her eyes red from tears. “She’s three, she isn’t hard to take care of, please. I’m only 20 years old, I can’t take care of her anymore.” 

The young girl clung to her mother’s arms, screaming as the old woman attempted to take her away. Mitsuki kissed her daughter’s forehead, smiling at her. 

“One day, I will see you again. One day, sweet darling, I will see you again.” 

As Mitsuki walked away, the little girl held the older lady close, tears soaking the shirt decorated with small flowers that the old lady wore. The old woman simply pet the hair of the little girl, humming a soft lullaby until the baby fell asleep. The old woman brought the child to her home, laying her in an old wooden crib, sitting at the rocking chair and knitting until she drifted off to sleep as well. 

The little girl, Mizuki, and the old woman stayed together, the old woman teaching Mizuki how to bake and how to sew and clean. By the time the girl was 5, the girl had already been taught how to take care of herself in a world that favoured power over a home life, Mizuki was a smiling, happy little girl. The old woman never let her forget who her mother was, and would always tell the little girl updates on how her mother was doing, never letting Mizuki forget the promise that one day, her mother would come back for her. 

“My, Mizuki, it’s your fifth birthday already! How the years have flown by. When you were left  with me, I never would have guessed that you would look so alike at only 5 years old. How much you look like her. Who would have thought that you would be so strong and so confident, you’re so much like your mother.” The old woman bent down, gently scratching the head of the young girl’s unruly blonde hair. 

“Gamma, why don’t I have my quirk yet? Wasn’t I supposed to get it by now? The doctors said I have one because of my bones, but I don’t know what it is!” Mizuki pulled at her bangs, a small growl leaving her throat as she kicked her legs around. 

“Some children get their quirk later, Mizuki. It’ll come, it’ll come. It’s like baking a cake, love. You just need to wait, and everything will be perfect. I promise.” The woman kissed the head of the little girl, mixing the cake ingredients together in the bowl. 

“What was your quirk, Gamma?”

“I could control light, intensify and make it weaker.” “Intensify?” “I could make the light I controlled stronger! Not by much, however. My husband had a similar quirk, and so did our daughter. I haven’t seen her in quite a while, though. She ran away from home in her teens. That’s alright, I have you now, and you are just as much my child as she is.” “Okay.” Mizuki and the old woman continued their day, baking cake together and enjoying the small child’s 5th birthday. There were no presents, but only one thing that Mizuki had wanted. The old woman played with the little girl, baked with her, and made sure she had the perfect birthday. 

At around 10 p.m., far past the regular bedtime for the little girl, the old woman followed the small child and allowed her to tuck herself in. The lady picked up a book, one of Mizuki’s favourites, sitting on her rocking chair. 

“Gamma, why isn’t my mommy coming back?” Mizuki hugged her torn up teddy bear, the only present she had received from her mother that she hadn’t destroyed in a fit of anger. She buried her face in the worn down fur, fighting back the tears that had been needing to come out for the last 2 years. 

“She will come back soon, my child. She promised that she would come back, didn’t she? She will be back for you, she will come back for you, I promise. She promised.” “Okay, Gamma.  I believe you. I just want her to come back soon, okay? I want my mommy back.” The girl put her bear down, lifting her arms up for the woman to hug her. “I want a goodnight hug, if I can’t have my mommy. And maybe kisses too!”

“Alright, young one. You may get your hug.” The old woman wrapped her arms around Mizuki. Mizuki’s arms wrapped around Gamma’s neck, her fingers barely coming into contact with Gamma’s skin. 

The tiniest of gasps. 

The light left her eyes. 

“Gamma? Gamma? Gamma what’s wrong? Did you fall asleep? Gamma wake up, you didn’t read me a bedtime story yet, you didn’t even kiss me goodnight! Gamma!” The young girl started screaming, tears streaming down her face as if a hurricane was coming from her eyes. She stood up, running down the stairs and out of the door as fast as she could, screaming out to the cold night. “Help me! Help me! My Gamma isn’t breathing, my Gamma isn’t waking up!” She remembered the police sirens. 

Then the adults with mean faces all around her, bringing her from one room to the next. Bright lights, strange faces, the words “monster” and “freak” all around her. 

You were so innocent back then. You didn’t even know they were talking about you. 

A man surrounded by flames approached her, his face mean. He looked like a big teddy bear to her, so big and cuddly. Without his mean face, she would have crawled up to him and hugged him, crying for him to help her. A doctor came up to her, ripping her sleeve open, grabbing her hand. 

He dropped to the ground, the same look in his eyes as her Gamma. 

That was the dead they were talking about, stupid bitch. 

“Someone needs to take her in. We can’t touch her. Endeavour, you could kill her, right here and right now.” “I won’t. It’s  a little kid.” Teddy bear man crossed his arms, looking down at me. “Give it to someone else. My job here is done. I am not harming a child. I don’t know why you needed to call me to deal with something as irrelevant as a simple child.”

The child went through 4 families in the next 4 years. One family lasted 2 years. One, barely a month. One lasted 8 months before the child killed the family dog in an accident, and they kicked her out. The last family kept it for a year before the child ran from them, choosing to live on the street. Every family would force it to sleep outdoors, would feed it the scraps, and treat it as the words said on the child’s birthday. 

Freak. 

Monster. 

Murderer. 

Curse. 

It was 9 years old, had discovered what it's’ quirk was and how to use it. It was able to give living things pain, to varying degrees. Some pain could kill, as what had happened with Gamma and the dog. Other pain could simply incapacitate. It kept it safe, it kept it alive, but at the cost of the lives of animals and people alike. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore, except that promise. 

It learned how to live on the street, how to clean the alley rats for food. It had been sick many times, and it had come close to dying far more often. Some days, the child wished for Death to come and take them away. Most days, however, it would look for the mother that abandoned it to this life. 

More sirens, more restraints, more bright lights and more men and women in suits, tying its hands behind its back and placing strange gloves, ones that wouldn’t allow it to use that cursed quirk, on its hands. 

“Where are you taking me? Let me go!” The child screamed, kicking at the men that held it off of the ground. 

“Darling Mizuki. You’re a hard one to catch, aren’t you?” 

“What are you talking about?”

“We put you with so many different families but you could never stay for long, eh? Always needing to kill something? I bet you’re just thirsting to kill us now, aren’t you?” “That’s enough, Goldeneye. Don’t hurt the kid. She’s probably terrified right about now.” 

“What can I say, Ironclad? You know I can’t help myself from roughing up murderers.” The kid was brought to the man in the car, who was called Ironclad. He was an older man, seeming to be in his 40’s, with silver armour around his body. Most likely a Pro. The kid didn’t care, didn’t see why the man being a Pro Hero was important. All it cared about was getting out. 

“Let me the FUCK go you dickheads!” It screamed, kicking once again before being hit in the back of the head by the other man, who had been called Goldeneye. Goldeneye was in a suit, with some strange machine on his eye. The child, the thing, wasn’t able to find a weakness for either of the men holding it. 

“Sweet child.” Ironclad stood up, sauntering over to the three. “Goldeneye, I paid for this thing. I paid for it completely undamaged. I don’t want the goods to be destroyed, especially with how much money we could make from selling it.” “Selling her? Sir, you can’t mean-” 

“Shut it, newbie. Do what you’re told. Before I make you find another agency to work with that won’t pay as well as mine does. Got it, kid?” The person who spoke, his voice was cracking, and gentle. Sounded like a child, not like a hero. The person who spoke bent down to its level, hugging it tightly. “Nothing bad will happen to you, I promise. My name is Shirogane Gin. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” His smile was kind, genuine, sweet. He didn’t seem to be lying. 

“Listen, I don’t know who you dipshits are, but if you’re going to kill me, just do it, okay? I don’t want to be alive anymore. I don’t want to keep eating rats and bugs just so I can make it to tomorrow.” 

For the first time in 4 years, it began to cry. 

“Please, just kill me, or I will fucking do it myself!” “Coin Toss, Goldeneye, let go of it.” Ironclad went up to the crying thing in front of him, bending down so their eyes were on the same level. He lifted up the child’s shirt, looking at it’s bare chest. “There isn’t enough here to make something from it, but if we feed it more food, we should have enough to make a profit.”

Coward. 

“Sir, she’s a little girl, she’s only nine years old. We can’t do this! We shouldn’t make her a sex toy!”

Goldeneye shot something at Gin’s face, causing him to collapse onto the ground. He threw Gin into the back of the car they were in, going back to the child. He let out a small chuckle as he saw Ironclad grabbing at the child’s chest. 

“Is he going to be okay?” “Coin Toss will be fine, kid. Don’t worry about it.” Goldeneye picked it up, carrying her to the back of the car. 

There was a noose right there, coward! If you ran for it, then maybe… 

Goldeneye threw the child into the car, it losing consciousness as its head hit the cold metal.

[hellas-himself]

Crack Ship Holidays

Halloween- Pt. 2- Cassian x Feyre

.

.

.

Cassian walks into the kitchen as he ties up his hair. He smiles as I hold out a cup of coffee to him.

“Good morning,” he says, leaning down to kiss me. He takes the cup as he pulls away.

“Morning.”

“Az called me when I got out of the shower. He’s staying home with Iliana so Elain can go back to work.”

“So, early day?”

He nods, taking a sip of his coffee before opening my fridge.

“Bunny…”

“I didn’t know you were staying the night!”

He shakes his head and closes the door.

“Wanna come to work with me? We can stop for breakfast.”

“Let me change,” I say, looking down at my clothes which is nothing more than his shirt.

“I mean… I wouldn’t mind,” he says as I walk past him. He slaps my ass when I flip him off. 

I put on a black skater dress with ripped tights. I find the socks covered in skeletons and tombstones before going after his leather jacket and my boots. I grab my messenger bag and make sure my sketchbook and pencils are in it before throwing my phone and wallet inside.

“Ready?” he asks and I nod. The way he’s looking at me makes me blush.

Downstairs, Cassian opens the door to his truck and takes me by the waist and hauls me up, saving me the embarrassment of trying to climb into the damn thing with a dress on. It’s an effort not to think much of the way his hands linger on my thighs as I pull my bag off and set it down.

Cassian lets me pick the music for the drive to the shop but we love the same music, so he doesn’t complain when I find the playlist we have been working on for the Halloween party next week. We sing along to a few songs until we stop at the café for breakfast. We take our order to go and hurry back to the truck.

I hold our food while Cassian unlocks and pushes up the storefront gate. I’ve been here many times and it still throws me off when I see the graffiti on the wall that he and I had done when he first bought the space. Cassian keeps pictures and discarded tattoo ideas on the walls in the break room. I love them all but two of them are my favorite: One is of all of us together shortly after Elain and Azriel got married. She’d gotten her first tattoo that day, the start of the half sleeve she now has of watercolor flowers[LS1] . The second is the day he adopted Valo. We’re sitting down with Val in my arms and Cassian has an arm around my shoulder. It was your typical post adoption picture taken at any animal shelter, the kind that gets posted on their social media for all the world to see and I love it.  

“I have a few scheduled sessions today,” Cassian says, bringing me from my thoughts. “It’s his day off, but Rhys is going to come by and take care of any walk ins.”

“I could watch Iliana for them,” I find myself saying. “It’s not like I’m doing anything.”

Cassian looks at me funny before stealing bacon off my plate.

“Bullshit. You’re helping me out today.”

“Doing what?”

When he grins, I already know and I groan.

“I hate you,” I say and reach over and take his bagel.

“You weren’t saying that last night,” he teases and I know I’m blushing.

“Fuck you, Cassian.”

“Here? I think that’s an OSHA violation-” Cassian laughs, even as I kick him under the table.

*

There are very few things I hate in this world, and answering phones is up there. But for Cassian, I suck it up. I get to sketch in between calls, and greet those who walk in. Rhys shows up and it’s as if he hasn’t seen me in years with the way he hugs me.

“Ignore him,” Lucien says as he comes to give me a kiss. “He went jogging with Valo this morning and had way too much sugar with his coffee.”

Lucien doesn’t stay long. But he does promise to come by for lunch and bring us all food. With Cassian and Rhys busy working, the group chat is silent. I text Elain to ask about Iliana and I’m surprised when she responds.

She’s still got a fever and if she throws up again Az is going to have to take her to the doctor.

I can help, you know.

I know, Feyre… But Nesta mentioned that job and I didn’t want to bother you.

It’s NOT a job… Just volunteering for now. Until then… I guess I’m answering phones for Cassian.

I watch the dots appear and disappear as Elain tries to respond. I want to call Nesta and tear her a new one, but it would be pointless and I can’t give her the satisfaction in knowing she’s pissed me off.

I can’t believe her!!!!! Well… I’ll be sure to tell Az that Cassian is torturing you. Rhys and Lucien watched Iliana for our date night last weekend… You can be next. ; )))))

*

It’s almost dinner time, but Cassian is still working on his last client. He��s almost done. I can hear Lucien and Rhys talking amongst themselves, but I don’t pay much attention. There’s something soothing, hypnotic almost, in watching Cassian work. It’s almost as if I am looking at myself when I’m painting or lost in a sketch. I cannot understand how Tamlin had watched me paint for hours and didn’t feel what I feel watching Cassian. Tamlin would leave my apartment in a shit mood or start bitching about being ignored. Cassian always looks at me in awe when I’m done with a piece. No matter how simple it is.

Rhys and Lucien leave once the client is having Cas take pictures of their tattoo. I get called over to look at it and like always, I’m blown away by his work. The contrast in his shading is impeccable and when I tell him so, Cassian actually blushes.

I help him clean up and notice the picture on the wall behind his table. It’s of me with Val at the park. I remember that, Cassian had taken the picture. There are other pictures of his brothers and our friends but mine is slightly set apart. I don’t say anything about it- in all the years I was with Tamlin, I never had his picture on my desk at work. But Cassian? My students used to think he was ‘Ms. Archeron’s special friend’. I smile just thinking about it.

Cassian lets me lock the door and the storefront gate. He throws an arm around me as we walk to his truck.

“Dinner at my place?” he asks as he opens the door for me.

I nod as he lifts me up by the waist and sets me down in the truck. He flashes me a smile before closing the door and I buckle up while he walks around to the driver’s side. The drive to his house doesn’t take long and once he parks the truck, I can hear Valo barking.

Valo nearly knocks me down when Cassian opens the door.

“Hi, baby,” I say. Valo is almost as tall as I am, taller if he gets on his hindlegs.

Cassian whistles once he’s got the lights on and Val runs after him.

“Happy to see mommy, huh?” Cassian asks. “She’s so much prettier than uncle Rhysie, right?”

I laugh when Valo barks. I lock the door and hang my bag on the closet door before going outside. Valo is running around while Cassian texts Rhys his thanks for watching him. I walk down the porch steps and call Val over. I run around the yard with him until Cassian calls him back inside. He’s smirking when I walk up the stairs.

“You can’t just get me a dog to say sorry,” he says playfully, poorly imitating me.

“Okay, okay. It worked. But you didn’t adopt him until you got the house, so I had many years to get over it.”

“Uh huh. Whatever you say, bunny.”

I smack his arm and go inside. We take off our jackets and boots and I offer to bring them to the closet in the entrance hall so he can get a head start on dinner. When I go to the kitchen, Val is curled up on the floor watching Cas walk around. As usual, I help him with dinner prep but he handles the rest. I use that time to sketch, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the cabinet. Valo comes to cuddle next to me.

“He was so little when he came home,” I say softly, reaching out to pet him. Cassian looks back and just smiles.

We eat dinner in the dining room and Valo is falling asleep under the table. I offer to wash dishes when we’re done, but Cassian insists on doing it himself. But I’m just as stubborn as he is, so we end up working together.

“Hey, so do you want to stay a bit longer or want to head home?” Cassian asks as I hand him the last dish.

“Uh… Whatever you want. I can take a cab home so you don’t have to leave again.”

Cassian makes a face. “Why? I don’t mind.”

I clean my hands and rinse them off. He hands me a paper towel.

“Cas… You already stayed out because of me. I don’t want Val to start tearing the house apart.”

“He’s been outside plenty today, and he can come in the truck. It’s really not a big deal, bunny.”

I sigh. “Why don’t we finish that episode… Mor’s been bugging me about it.”

“I’ll take you home after?”

I roll my eyes and toss my paper towel at him.

“Yeah, Cas.”

*

“If you get bored tomorrow… Come by work,” Cas says as he parks his truck in front of my building.

“So I can answer your phone?”

“I was going to say to spend your day with your best friend, but sure. That works, too.”

I laugh. “I’ll think about it.”

I give Valo kisses as I wait for Cas to walk around the truck and help me out. It happens way too soon. Cassian’s hands linger on my waist once he sets me down.

“Let me know when you get home,” I say and he nods, looking over at Val who’s already whining. “Daddy isn’t leaving you, Val. I won’t keep him from you.”

Cassian has a stupid smirk when I look back at him.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you’re thinking it.”

Cassian pulls me in for a hug.

“I’ll call you when I get to the house.”

“Drive safe.”

Cassian kisses me and I want so badly to tell him to stay. But Val keeps whining and we both sigh. He gives me one more kiss before he walks away. I close the passenger door while he gets into the driver’s seat. Once he’s in, he starts the engine and I hurry upstairs. Cassian won’t leave until I turn the light on of my bedroom, something he does even if he walks me to the door.

Once I hear him drive off, I drop my bag on the floor and let out a sigh.

I’m getting out of the shower when Cassian calls me. I put him on speaker while I find something to wear.

“I’m home,” he says and I know that he’s stretching.

“Did he calm down?” I ask and I hear Cas chuckle.

“No,” he says, clearly teasing. “He misses you too much.”

“Well I always miss him when I’m here… And you, too.”

Cassian doesn’t say anything and I mentally curse myself. I settle on a pair of red plaid, flannel pajama pants and a worn-out t-shirt. I tie my hair up in a messy bun and shut off my bedroom light.

“I found your Iron Maiden shirt,” I say as I climb into bed. I set the phone on my chest once I’m under the covers. I hear when Cassian gets into bed, and when Valo jumps in with him. When I’m there, Val sleeps at our feet. When I’m there, I don’t have to lay awake in bed wishing I wasn’t by myself. Wishing I was with them.

“Fallin’ asleep on me, bunny?”

“No, that must be Val you feel on top of you.”

He chuckles. Then it gets quiet again.

“Hey, bunny?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

I hear him sigh and I can picture him running his fingers through his hair.

“I always miss you when you’re not here, too.”

*

Mor makes an unholy sound as she takes the first sip of her coffee. I hold the door for her as she walks out of the café. We are walking through town, intent on finding our Halloween costumes. Last minute, like every year. I use my straw to shake up my iced coffee and take a sip. Mor looks at me funny and I roll my eyes.

“So, what’s up with you and Cassian?” she asks as we cross the street.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you still fucking?”

“Christ, Mor!”

She laughs and loops her arm in mine.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

I know I’m blushing, which is stupid.

“Why?” I ask. I notice where we are and if we walk another block and make a right, I’ll see Cassian’s truck outside of the shop.

“What do you mean why? How long has this been going on? Six months? More?”

“Since New Year’s,” I say before I can stop myself. “I didn’t tell you until like… the second time it happened.”

“And that’s it?”

“No… Should something be different?”

Mor sighs as the thrift store comes into view.

“You haven’t wanted… more? Or are you two still playing the ‘this means nothing’ card.”

“That was in the beginning,” I say as we enter the store. A red gown catches Mor’s eye. “But… it’s not nothing.”

“What changed?”

I shrug but notice she’s not even looking at me.

“I don’t know…”

Mor pulls the gown off the rack and purses her lips.

“Dammit. This would only fit Amren.” She puts it back and I follow her down the aisle. “Is Cas still planning on being Khal Drogo?”

I giggle. “I ordered the body paint like last month.”

“Why aren’t you dressing up as Daenerys then?”

“I don’t know.”

“Listen… Last year you convinced him to be Dracula and you were Mina.”

“We weren’t involved last year.”

“Not physically.” Mor hands me her coffee to look through the racks faster. “Tamlin was so pissed off that you still came to the party without him.”

“Why was I going to miss out because he was being an ass?”

“Not to mention the fact that you didn’t want to dress up with him.”

“He wanted me to dress up as a fucking fairytale princess.”

Mor laughs. “Your default picture until Christmas was of you and Cassian dressed up. And you only changed it because I got Valo that cute little santa outfit. Otherwise, I bet it would’ve stayed the same.”

“Not true. There were so many nice pictures of us that night the guys took us ice skating.”

Mor winces. “Don’t remind me.”

“You got a girlfriend out of it.”

“Yes, but having to wear that boot for three weeks was a nightmare.”

“Why aren’t you two dressing up as a doctor and nurse?”

When Mor blushes, I already know and I cackle.

“Don’t tell me you and Cas don’t dress up.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“That’s not an answer.”

I drink my coffee and Mor’s eyes go wide.

“Tell me.”

“Why?”

“Indulge me.”

I groan and look around. There’s hardly anyone else here.

“So… It wasn’t planned. You remember Viviane’s costume party? For her birthday?”

“Where Cas showed up like a football player and you-” Mor throws her head back laughing. “Oh my god. You wore your fucking cheerleader outfit from senior year.”

I regret every word that comes out of my mouth.

“You know Cassian makes everything into a joke,” I say, running my fingers through my hair. “So I teased him back and it was just…”

“You’re blushing! What did he say?”

“Nothing I will ever repeat.”

Mor laughs until she chokes on air and takes many sips of her coffee.

“Dress up as Daenerys. I’ll do your hair. Make up. Just, indulge me.”

“What if it puts him off?”

“Feyre… If Cassian hauled your ass into one of Viviane’s guestrooms then, I don’t see why he wouldn’t do the same now.”

.

.

.

[spidergwenstefani]

@claraxbarton I heard you were having a long day so I wrote you some unrepentant fluff. Idk anything about professional costuming, but I do know some stuff about school theatre. So here’s college AU winterhawk where Bucky is also having a long day. Sorry in advance for all the typos that are definitely in here.

Bucky swears, pulling the seam ripper through the next stitch just a shade too viciously, catching his thumb with the stabby bit as thread gives way.

“Fuck,” he shouts, because the costume shop is empty save for him and this dupioni nightmare. Even the other student employees went home sometime after the witching hour, each classmate shooting Bucky a look of tragic sympathy as they individually decided witnessing Coulson’s stress hurricane wouldn’t be worth the sheer amount of caffeine they would have to chug to get through the day tomorrow. “Motherfucking shit. God damned son of a fuck. Fucking Christ on a-”

“Um,” somebody says from the doorway.

The headrush Bucky gets from looking up tells him that tomorrow will be another Gender in Shakespeare lecture skipped. There’s a guy hovering in the doorway, a small pink purse wedged under his arm and a look of… fear? Maybe? Probably fear on his face.

“What do you want?” Bucky snaps, because he doesn’t have time to spare on conversation. He still has the shoulder seams to undo, still needs to open up the sleeves, and the basement of the theatre building is drafty on the best days. Bucky’s a little worried his fingers will freeze stiff if he pauses for longer than a minute.

“Oh,” the guy in the doorway says. “Well, I came to get Bobbi’s purse for her. She said she left it here during fittings.” He gestures to the sparkly clutch under his elbow, and Bucky realizes he’s on the way out, not in.

“Okay?” If this is another one of Bobbi’s boys (pretty, fratty, and not a singular brain cell,) Bucky’s in danger of getting ensnared in a friendly conversation. He keeps his voice cold, putting on what Natasha calls his Fuck Off Face. The guy does a sort of shuffle in the doorway, physically swaying with the weight of whatever mental battle he’s having about staying or leaving.

“It’s just,” he says, stepping a little further into the fluorescent lights of the costume shop, and fuck Bobbi sure can pick them. “You seem a little. In distress?”

“In distress?” Bucky repeats, and the ice in his voice impresses even him. “In distress? Well, I have to seam rip the rest of these sleeves and salvage what I can for reworking the waist of the jacket, which was a bitch to make in the first place. I also have to take off the appliques that I put my blood, sweat, and tears into stitching on not even a week earlier. Even if I get that done before sunrise, I still have a fucking obscene amount of buttonholes to hand make, and I’ll probably have to modify the appliques for the new jacket. All because the actors are over-dramatic children who throw fits and drop out halfway through a show, and our costume shop assistant is an idiot who ruined half our dupioni right off the bat by steam pressing it. So yes, I’m a little bit fucking in distress.” The frat boy winces a little at the venom in the final word, and Bucky actually feels a twinge of regret, especially when he speaks again.

“I just meant, you look like you could use some help.”

Bucky narrows his eyes, straightening up and ignoring the way his spine pops in protest. The guy is greek life down to his toes, probably never handled anything more delicate than a football. He’s dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, a battered leather jacket thrown on to keep out the January chill.

“Can you sew?”

“I can’t make you a new jacket, but if most of your work is just cutting threads I can offer an extra set of hands.”

He makes a fair point, and if the seam ripping goes fast enough, Bucky can probably make a dent in the buttonholes before morning. He probably can’t fuck things up worse than anyone else has already.

“Okay,” Bucky says, and frat boy breaks into a crooked smile that has Bucky’s stomach feeling kind of fluttery. Maybe he should do more acting next year, see if Bobbi knows any other pretty frat boys.

The jacket is still technically in one piece, so frat boy takes the stool right next to Bucky, his thigh pressing against Bucky’s and reminding him just how much body heat he’s lost to the chill that creeps into the costume shop. Bucky hands him a seam ripper, holding up his nearly-separated sleeve.

“You just cut the threads with this. You have to work to find the stitches at first, but once the seam is cut a little more, it’s easy work.” Frat boy nods, examining his weapon. He looks incredibly serious about the weight of the whole thing, and suddenly Bucky finds himself biting back a smile. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“Clint,” frat boy says, sticking his hand in the small space between them. Bucky shakes it, and the warm, callused skin makes him notice how icy his own hands have turned. Clint catches his hand before he can pull it back. “You’re freezing,” he says, frowning like he’s actually worried.

“It’s a little cold in here,” Bucky agrees, not sure exactly what to do about Bobbi Morse’s boyfriend holding his hand in the wee hours of the morning.

“I guess gloves would get in the way,” Clint says, taking Bucky’s other hand and wrapping them up in his own. Clint is warm, and Bucky can tell that feeling is already creeping back into his fingertips.

“We have a lot of work to do,” Bucky points out, his voice not quite as commanding as he wanted it to be. Clint hums in agreement, like he’d already forgotten what he sat down to help with, and lets go of Bucky’s hands.

They work well together. Somehow Bucky manages to keep a semi-steady conversation through his sleep deprivation, and Clint doesn’t seem to mind when a particularly tricky part makes them lapse into silence. Bucky fights through the distraction of Clint’s thigh still pressed against his own and gets the rest of the shoulder seam cut through. They switch pieces, Clint working on opening up the sleeve while Bucky separates the other shoulder. It’s comfortable silence, and Bucky’s running on too little sleep to get very panicky about the way Clint’s foot will brush his or the quick glances he keeps shooting him.

They’ve been working for close to two hours when Clint sits back, tugging his jacket off by the sleeves. Bucky surveys their work, noting with surprise that almost all the seam ripping is done.

He feels a sudden weight on his shoulders, freezing up as Clint’s breath tickles the back of his neck.

“What are you doing?” Bucky says flatly.

“I’m giving you my jacket. You keep shivering,” Clint says, like that explains it. Bucky frowns, staring resolutely down at his work and nothing else. He hopes his cheeks aren’t as pink as they feel.

“You’ll get cold,” Bucky points out, because it’s true. Clint’s got nothing more than a worn t-shirt on under the jacket, the collar stretched out in a way that’s a little distracting. Clint just shrugs.

“I run hot. And you’re the talent here, right? Hypothermia can get me first. I’m expendable.”

Bucky doesn’t laugh, finally looking over at Clint and immediately regretting it. It’s a struggle to keep a scornful expression when faced with bright blue puppy dog eyes. Not to mention the shoulders.

“I bet Bobbi doesn’t think so. She’d probably like me to return her boyfriend in one piece.”

Clint blinks once, looking surprised. Surprised, but not guilty. Bucky’s frown deepens.

“I’m not her boyfriend,” Clint says. “I mean, we dated for a while last year but I’m not- I came to get her purse because she had a hot date and didn’t have time to come by. Maybe that makes me kind of a loser, I don’t know. I kind of can’t resist pretty damsels in distress.” Clint laughs a little at himself, then. “Also, Bobbi definitely thinks I’m expendable.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, pulling the jacket tighter around his shoulders. He blinks, Clint’s words slowly worming their way through his sluggish brain. “You think I’m pretty?”

Clint lets out a huff of air, like he was holding his breath as Bucky parsed through the conversation.

“I was hoping that’s what you’d get from that.”

“I am a little tired.”

“Take a break,” Clint says, putting his hand over Bucky’s seam ripper like that would do anything to stop him. “I think I’ve proven I can work without supervision. At least for a little while.”

“I’ll supervise you,” Bucky says, although the salaciousness is lost a little as he yawns hugely. Clint winks at him anyways, his lopsided smile coming back full force. Bucky lets him reach across the table, sliding his work away and into Clint’s space. He crosses his arms on the table, using them as a pillow so he can watch Clint work with minimal physical effort.

“You should volunteer here sometime,” he says, a little entranced by the way Clint’s blunt fingers move almost elegantly. Maybe his sport of choice has a little more finesse than football. Clint shoots him a grin.

“You trying to get more free labor out of me?”

“Oh, you have a price now?”

“The distressed damsel discount is single-use only,” Clint says, smiling down at his work. Bucky falls silent for a moment, biting his lip and enjoying the way that exhaustion has bled all his typical nervousness out of his flirting.

“What’ll it cost me?”

“A date,” Clint says, glancing sideways at Bucky, kind of anxiously. Bucky knew the words before he said them, but his heart still flutters a little now that they’ve been said. Bucky hums like he has to consider it.

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“I would settle for food, too,” Clint says hurriedly. “Or, like, if you had a dog and you let me pet it-”

“If we make it a dinner date, will you volunteer twice?”

“Okay,” Clint pauses, turning to Bucky with a small furrow in his brow. Bucky bites back a smile at how worried he looks. “I was really just trying to be cute with the whole free labor thing. You don’t owe me a date. Or food, or anything. I just want to make sure you know that, because I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.” Bucky snorts, burying his face in his arms to hide his laugh. When he glances back at Clint, there’s a dopey expression on his face. “I would like to go on a date with you, though.”

“Does this count as a date, or volunteering? Who’s tab does this go on?”

“Bucky,” Clint groans, and hearing his name out of Clint’s mouth sets Bucky’s heart hammering again. “You’re stressing me out.”

“I would like to go on a date with you too,” Bucky says, and his face is probably about as dopey as Clint’s is.

“Cool,” Clint says, soft and a little surprised. He turns back to his work with a shy smile. “Cool. Awesome. Cool.” Bucky hides a laugh in his arms again.

“Clint?”

“Yeah?” Clint looks up immediately, his cheeks a little pink.

“I’m going to nap for a little bit.”

>>==========>

Bucky wakes up to sunlight shining directly in his eyes, and Steve shaking his shoulder belligerently. He bats at him uselessly, wincing at the crick in his neck.

“Fuck off, Stevie,” Bucky hisses, grumbling when Steve switches to sharp pokes.

“If you keep doing this, you’re going to have a hunchback by the time you’re thirty. How long have you been sleeping?”

“What time is it?” Bucky asks, petulantly not opening his eyes.

“Eight”

“At night?”

“No, Buck. What the fuck?”

“Oh. Like three hours then.”

“Well, at least you finished those buttonholes you were griping about.”

“What?” Bucky shoots bolt upright, almost falling off the stool in the process. The costume shop is marginally cleaner than it was when he fell asleep, and the jacket is flat on the worktable, the fabric from the former sleeves pressed and lying on top of it. There are other garments on the table, too. The vests Bucky had piled on the end of the table are now next to the jacket, his viciously scribbled ‘needs buttonholes!!!’ note added to in sloppy purple marker.

“I can’t sew a jacket,” Steve reads out loud, giving Bucky a very layered look, “but buttons I can do. Tried to wake you up, but you’re kind of mean when you’re half asleep. You can bring the jacket to our date.” Steve crosses his arms, wrinkling his nose a little. “He also put his phone number and a little heart with an arrow through it.” Bucky feels himself blush, biting back a smile. Steve narrows his eyes at him, doing an impeccable impression of Sarah Rogers moments away from a scolding. “Bucky. Did you give someone a blow job for buttonholes?”

“Not yet.” Bucky grins, feeling a little like he’s floating.

[write-havoc]

The Glasswing Butterfly Part 13

Summary: Chuck has never thought of herself as anything special. Just an average beta living her life next door to a womanizing alpha named Negan. But her life, and Negan’s too, are turned upside down when Chuck suddenly presents as omega.

This is a non-zombie AU featuring A/B/O dynamics.

Fandom: The Walking Dead AU

Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlist in my bio

Negan and Chuck are sitting side by side on the front steps to the porch, waiting for the ambulance and Rick to come. Negan has his arm around Chuck, rubbing up and down on her right arm in reassurance as she clutches her broken left one to her chest.

“Does it hurt a lot?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she chokes out. “The bite does, too.”

Negan growls low in his chest at the thought of Eldritch trying to claim Chuck.

“It’s okay,” she whispers. “We made it out of it.”

They sit in silence for a few more moments before a bark pierces the air.

“Oh my god! Mozart!” Chuck calls out and jumps up to follow the noise.

Negan follows, too, and they find the dog in the fenced in part of the back yard, safe and sound.

Chuck’s tears are renewed upon seeing the dog. “Oh my god!” She bends down to try to pet Mozart. “How did I forget about you?!”

In actuality, Mozart is a very friendly dog and when Eldritch came to the back door, Mozart simply greeted him with a wag of his tale and cheerfully walked outside when Eldritch prompted him. Eldritch then closed the door after him, locking the dog outside and out of the way.

Negan scratches Mozart behind the ears, but is quick to nudge Chuck back up. “He’s fine back here. I don’t want you to hurt your arm worse.”

Chuck nods then kisses the dog on the head. “It’s okay, Mozart. We’ll come back for you.”

Negan leads Chuck back around the house just in time to see Rick’s cruiser coming down the driveway. Somehow, he had beaten the ambulance there.

As Rick exits the driver’s side, a dark skinned woman with thick dreads dressed in a smart pant suit exits the passenger side. They both take in the sight of Chuck and Negan and are taken aback. Both of them are have a significant amount of blood on them. Negan is covered in blood from his mouth all the way down his chest, his formerly white button up completely ruined. Chuck’s fluffy white robe has blood staining the shoulder and some of her left sleeve. The newcomers school their expressions to spare Chuck and Negan the knowledge of just how bad they look.

Rick walks up to the couple. “EMS should be here any minute.” He turns to the woman off to his right. “This is Michonne. She’s my girlfriend, but she’s a lawyer, too.”

Michonne starts to talk quickly. “We don’t have a lot of time before the other cops get here, so tell me everything that happened.”

As Chuck and Negan go over the details with Michonne, Rick goes into the house to check to on Eldritch. The man in question is laying in a large pool of blood, his throat obviously ripped out. A very quick check of the pulse shows that the man is good and dead. When he comes back out, Negan is just starting to go over what happened when he got there.

“...and he was fuckin’ biting her and I saw red. I thought he claimed her. I just fuckin’ pulled him of her and started punching. Then he started to fuckin’ strangle me, saying he was gonna fuckin’ kill me. Then, Chuck got him off me. He fuckin’ pushed her back and I bit him.”

Michonne nods as she takes notes in her pad. “We have a lot going for us for this to be justifiable homicide. With everything you said... just tell the detectives all that. And Rick had written reports of what you told him before, so there is a record of that. It strengthens your case.”

Chuck and Negan nod.

Michonne lets out a heavy breath. “It will help your case if you refer to each other as your mate to the detectives. Really play up that ‘true mates’ thing. I know there isn’t an actual claim, but you’re still dating and if we can convince the detectives that you see each other as mates, it will be better for you.”

They both nod again as they start to hear sirens.

Michonne continues. “I need you to stay calm, Negan.”

“Okay,” he responds.

“Because they’re going to arrest you.”

“What?!” he calls out. “You just fuckin’ told me it was justifiable!”

Michonne puts her hands up in a soothing gesture. “That’s for the courts to decide, not the police.”

Negan throws his arms up. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Chuck starts to cry again. “He can’t go to jail!”

“I’m not gonna fuckin’ leave her,” Negan says with conviction to Rick.

The sheriff takes the placating stance now. “You have to calm down before they get here or they’ll take you straight to the alpha psych ward and they’ll dope you for seventy two hours.”

Negan looks up to the blue and red lights shining through the trees as multiple cars and two ambulances race down the road to the house. The thought of being away from Chuck for three days isn’t at all attractive. He takes a deep breath to calm down and puts his arm back around Chuck. “I won’t fuckin’ fight them,” he decides.

“I’m pretty sure I can convince the district attorney not to press charges,” Michonne says quickly before more people come. “Just hang tight and cooperate.”

The cavalcade finally pulls up and the whole scene turns to chaos. One detective questions Chuck as she’s getting treated in one ambulance. Negan gets the same treatment, though he doesn’t have as extensive of wounds as Chuck does. The EMTs say he doesn’t need to go to the hospital, but they do take Chuck to get X-rays for her arm. Both Chuck and Negan don’t want to be separated, but they know that they have to be for now.

During the investigation, the police log and take pictures of all of the scrapes and bruises on Negan’s skin, including the deep bruises around his neck from being almost strangled to death. Cops are in and out of the house for hours, taking pictures and dusting for fingerprints, all the while, Rick and Michonne stand by Negan.

One of the detectives comes over to Rick and starts to go over their preliminary findings. “Back door was definitely jimmied. And that dog isn’t much of a watchdog. Seems pretty likely the vic broke in which is consistent with the statements. Evidence all supports the couple’s story, so your friends are seeming innocent.”

Rick shakes the detective’s hand. “Thanks, detective.”

“We still gotta take the alpha downtown, though.” He flicks his gaze to Negan.

Rick nods. “Yeah. He knows that. He’s not gonna fight it.”

Negan can hear the whole exchange, but he decides to keep his mouth shut, no matter how much he doesn’t want to.

Finally, the cops take Negan to the jail and get him processed. Luckily enough for him, it’s standard practice to keep alphas mostly in isolation, so he doesn’t have to deal with any other prisoners in his cell.

Not that he really cares about himself right now, anyway. All he can think about is Chuck and how she must be handling everything.

When the ambulance pulls out taking CHuck to the hospital, Chuck asks one of the EMTs to contact her mother, who should be at work right now. The kind beta, who happens to know a lot of workers at Charity General Hospital where Diane is, gets word to her. She says she will get to Spring Harbor Medical Center as quickly as she can to be with Chuck.

Chuck gets wheeled in to get her arm X-rayed. It reveals a fracture in her wrist that needs to be set in a cast. Her shoulder is also looked at more extensively. Dr. Bailey, who was called in to oversee all of Chuck’s medical procedures, determines that Chuck is very lucky not to have been claimed by Eldritch.

“One inch up and it would have been a full claim,” Dr. Bailey explains to Chuck and Diane. “We could have reversed it, but...” she lets out a breath. “You were very lucky.”

It’s an incredibly long day, but eventually, Chuck gets the chance to relax at her mother’s house. They had stopped off at Rick’s to pick up Mozart before heading home, as Rick took the dog for safe keeping.

“You okay, sweetie?” Diane asks softly as she pushes some of Chuck’s hair from her face.

Chuck lets out a deep breath. “I think I’m just gonna take some of those pain pills and go to bed.” She starts to walk into the kitchen to pour herself a water, but she pauses and turns back. “Do you think Negan is okay?”

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Diane hugs her daughter gently. “You heard Michonne when we picked up Mozart. She figures Negan will get released tomorrow.”

Diane’s phone goes off and she looks at the message. “Aaron’s boarding his plane now. He’ll be here tomorrow morning.”

Chuck nods. “That’s good.” She heads into the kitchen and takes her two pills. “I’m gonna go to bed. Night, Mom.”

Diane gives Chuck a quick kiss on her head. “Night, sweetie. I love you.”

“Love you, too. Come on, Mozart,” she says to the dog, who is laying on the couch. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Mozart follows her up to her room and settles in at the foot of her bed. By the time Chuck slips under the covers, the pills have made her drowsy enough to have her falling asleep quickly.

The next morning, Chuck sleeps in, her body taking all the rest it can. When she finally gets herself up and around, Aaron is already there, sitting in the kitchen.

“Hey, sweetie,” he chokes out and steps forward to hug Chuck.

“Hey, Uncle Aaron,” she replies softly.

“I’m so sorry, Chucky.” He starts to cry as his guilt builds. All he can think of is that Eldritch wouldn’t ave attacked her if she weren’t at his isolated house.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Chuck is quick to say. “I don’t blame you.”

Diane walks in. “Michonne has been texting me all morning. Negan is going to get released within the hour.”

“Thank god,” Chuck says automatically.

“Michonne’s going to drop him off here.”

Three hours later, a car pulls into the driveway. Chuck jumps out of her seat on the couch and runs out the door. Negan is already stepping out of the car when he sees Chuck, so he rushes toward her, too. When they meet, Negan wraps her up in his arms, lifting her off the ground.

“Are you okay?” He sets her back down and cradles her face in his hands.

She runs her fingers over the cuts and bruises on his face that have developed overnight. “Oh, Negan. I’m sorry.”

He grabs her hand and brings it to his lips to kiss her palm. “I’m fine, baby girl.” He gently takes ahold of her cast. “Is it bad?”

She shakes her head. “It’s broken, but it’ll heal.”

“Are you in pain?”

“A little.”

“Shit,” he mutters. “I fuckin’ hate that.”

Michonne comes up behind them and clears her throat, causing the couple to turn to her.

“Hello, Michonne,” Chuck greets. “Thank you for taking care of all of this.”

She smiles warmly. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry you both went through what you did.”

“So is this all over,” Chuck asks.

Michonne gives a tentative nod. “I think so. There’s a slight chance the district attorney could still take it to trial, but I sincerely doubt that will happen.”

Negan holds his hand out to her to shake. “Seriously. Thank you for this. You and Rick. You saved my ass.”

“You’re welcome,” she says again. “I need to get back. I’ll keep in touch, though. Hopefully I can get your phones back from evidence tonight and release Aaron’s house as a crime scene.”

They all bid their farewells and Michonne leaves. The Langdon family plus Negan all go back into Diane’s living room and share some hugs upon Negan’s homecoming.

“Fuck,” Negan mutters at some point. “I need to call the fuckin’ dealership and tell him what happened.” He gets on Diane’s landline and dials the familiar number to work, asking for his boss.

“Hello, Negan,” Mr. Adams says in an unimpressed tone.

“Look,” Negan starts to explain. “Some shit happened, but I’ll be back at work on Monday.”

“No you won’t,” his boss says flatly. “You’re done.”

“Are you fuckin’ firing me?”

“Yeah, Negan. I’m firing you.”

“You know how many fuckin’ cars I’ve sold for you?”

“You know how many days you’ve missed in the last few months? You walked out in the middle of a sale yesterday!”

Negan takes a deep breath, knowing that there’s nothing more he can say. “Fine.” He hangs up the phone and stands in place, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Chuck had heard the whole exchange from behind Negan. “You didn’t really like that job anyway,” she says quietly, trying to make Negan feel better.

He turns around and nods. “You’re fuckin’ right. I goddamn hate that fucker Adams. He’s a piece of shit.”

Chuck steps forward and hugs Negan’s torso. “You’ll find something better.”

He kisses her forehead. “Yeah, baby girl. I will.”

 The pair lay low at Diane’s house, along with Aaron, since his house was first a crime scene and then it needed a few days at least to get cleaned up by a professional crime scene cleaning company.

The couple finally heads back home and resumes their “laying low” lifestyle, since neither of them are working at the moment. Ad Astra software decided to shut down temporarily, considering someone very high up in the hierarchy is now dead with extreme circumstances. Chuck isn’t too concerned with heading back to work with them anyway. Not that it was really the company’s fault, but it still leaves a sour taste in her mouth.

One afternoon, Rick stops by as Chuck and Negan are in Negan’s apartment. They all sit in the living room.

Rick scratches at his beard in apprehension. “There’s been a development.”

Both Chuck and Negan sit forward in anticipation of what Rick might say. They were under the impression that the whole thing was over.

“They’re not fuckin’ prosecuting me, are they?” Negan asks.

“No.” Rick takes a deep breath and continues. “We ran Eldritch’s DNA through the system. It matched a thirteen year old cold case of a beta woman that was raped, strangled, and bitten on the neck. That case’s MO matched several other unsolved cases in the past twenty years. All betas. All bitten. All redheads in their early twenties with similar body shapes.”

Chuck is too shocked to say anything. The man that was her boss and then attacked her had actually killed people.

Negan blurts out, “You’re fuckin’ kidding me.” He’s shocked, too.

“All the cases, he was meticulous in cleaning the bodies of evidence. But that one, we think he was rushed or something. The FBI is involved now because some of the victims were from Maryland. They’re set to have a press conference in twenty minutes.”

“Oh my god!” Chuck finally cries out. “He was going to kill me?”

Rick shakes his head. “We found journals in his house. He was fixated on...”He looks away. “He wanted to breed you. It seems like you were the first omega he met that matched his type.” Rick lets out a sigh. “FBI profilers are saying it’s alpha psychosis. Their instincts to mate go haywire causing them to be violent. They said it can come and go, so they look and act completely normal one day and then...”

Chuck lets out a sob and leans into Negan for comfort.

“I knew he was fucked up. I should’ve killed that fucker the second I met him,” Negan growls out.

Chuck’s phone starts to go off. She doesn’t recognize the number, but she answers it anyway after wiping at her cheeks.

“Hello?”

“Charlotte Langdon?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“My name is Kate Pine and I work with the Richmond Times. I’d like to ask you some questions about being the only survivor of the Redhead Killer.”

Chuck is taken aback. “W-What?”

The woman continues. “Is it true you were saved by your true mate?”

Negan looks over to her and sees her confusion. “Who is it?”

Chuck answers. “It’s a reporter.”

Kate overhears. “Is that Negan? Put me on speaker.”

Negan snatches the phone out of Chuck’s hand and hangs it up. “Fuckin’ reporters. Really?”

Rick shakes his head. “A high profile case like this, they’ll come out of the woodwork.”

“Great.” Negan’s phone starts to ring then from an unknown. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

“The reporter asked about us being true mates,” Chuck says.

“Shit.” Rick scratches at his jaw. “Someone leaked the case file to the press before the press conference. That true mates stuff was in the report. They weren’t gonna mention it in front of the cameras.”

Negan shoots up from the couch and starts to pace. “Motherfucker! We just went though that shit with that psychopath fuck and now we gotta deal with the fucking press?!”

Rick stands. “I’ll see what I can do. This isn’t my jurisdiction, but I’ll ask the police here if they can watch you guys. And I’m gonna talk to your landlords and ask that they lock that downstairs door. It should be locked as it is.”

Chuck’s phone starts to ring again. “God!” She looks at the unfamiliar number. “I’m just going to block these numbers.”

Negan hands her his phone. “Block them on mine, too.”

Rick starts to walk to the door. “I’m sorry about all this. You guys take care of yourselves.” He leaves.

The whole rest of the night, Chuck and Negan get calls from various reporters and their numbers are quickly blocked. But they keep coming and coming until about midnight when they mercifully die off.

The next day, the calls start again and more numbers get blocked. When Chuck’s phone starts to ring right after lunch, Negan has almost had enough.

“This is fucking ridiculous!”

Chuck looks at her phone, ready to deny the call and block the number, but she stops when she sees Dr. Bailey’s name on the screen.

“It’s Dr. Bailey,” Chuck says before answering. “Hello?”

“Hello, Chuck. How are you?”

“Actually, uh... I’m getting hounded by reporters,” she explains.

“Well,” Dr. Bailey pauses, “that’s why I’m calling. I’ve been getting calls, too. They’ve been asking me about you and Negan and whether you two are really true mates.”

“Oh, god.”

“I haven’t said anything, of course. I don’t know how they even got my name. I haven’t even published any of my findings concerning your being true mates, yet. Not that I would have had your real names in there, anyway,” Dr. Bailey assures. “I just wanted you to know that that information is out there.”

“Yeah. We knew that,” Chuck admits. “But thank you, anyway for telling us.”

“You’re welcome. It just seems that the public may be interested in you and Negan being true mates and I want you to be safe. I don’t want them to just see you as a commodity.”

“We’re trying to lay low as it is. But thank you for your concern. We just want to move past all this.”

Later, just before they sit down to eat dinner in Negan’s apartment, they hear a knock on the door. Their landlords had taken Rick’s suggestion of locking the main door to the building from non residents, so it’s a little weird that someone is there.

Negan gets up from the table and looks through the peephole. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” he mutters as he spies a young woman with a microphone in her hand standing in front of a guy with a camera on his shoulder pointed at the door.

“Who is it?” Chuck asks.

“A fucking reporter,” he answers.

“How’d they get in?” Chuck stands from her seat.

“They’re fuckin’ rats.” He turns back to the door and starts to yell without opening it. “Get the fuck away from my door or I’m gonna call the fucking cops!”

The beta reporter is undeterred. “Please, Negan. We just want a comment. Were you protecting your true mate from the Redhead Killer?”

“Go away!” he yells again.

“You would be the first reported instance of true mates in modern times. Would you care to comment on that,” she tries again.

Negan has had enough. “I said go the fuck away !” His alpha voice doesn’t affect betas like it does omegas, but betas still know that it’s smart to obey a command from an alpha.

The reporter and her cameraman quickly leave without another word.

“What the fuck,” Negan says to himself.

Chuck gently rests her good hand on his chest. “Why do they care about all this?”

He pulls her into him and hugs her. “Because they’re fuckin’ vultures.��

 During the next week, Chuck and Negan hunker down in Chuck’s apartment. The story of The Redhead Killer and the only victim to make it out alive, who happens to be true mates with the alpha who saved her, positively blows up. It’s front page news on every newspaper in the city. All the local news stations try to get interviews with anyone even remotely close the Chuck and Negan as their main stories. Fortunately, the people closest to them refuse. Even Simon.

Rick and Michonne do their best to try to protect Chuck and Negan, which actually does help. The reporters stop contacting the pair after Michonne issues a statement saying that they would not be giving any interviews. And Rick makes it clear that any people found trespassing where Chuck and Negan live will be arrested.

Since the both of them are still not working, they really have no reason to leave the building anyway. Chuck officially leaves Ad Astra Software with a generous severance package that gives her enough money to live off of temporarily. She knows they gave her the money just so she doesn’t sue them, but she wouldn’t have done that anyway.

Negan has a lot in savings, as well. Not that he had ever touched that money before, really. It was Lucille’s, after all. She was an only child and had inherited her parents’ assets when they died. Lucille and Negan were newlyweds at the time, so they moved into the house her parents had left her and put the money in savings for any children they might have had. That didn’t happen, though, and a good part of that money went to Lucille’s cancer treatment. After Lucille died, Negan sold the house and put all the money in a savings account, never to be thought of again. At least until now, when he needs it.

 Thanksgiving comes around and Chuck and Negan decide to brave leaving their little cocoon to head to Diane’s for dinner. Things are okay when they first leave their building, but then Negan notices a car following them after a few blocks.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

“What?” Chuck asks.

“There’s a black Suburban following us.”

“What?” Chuck looks out the back window and sees the car Negan is talking about a few cars back. “Are you sure it’s following us?”

“Yeah. I think I saw a guy point a fuckin’ camera out the back.”

“Oh my god! We’re not even doing anything but driving.”

“If they approach this car, I’ll fuckin’ kill them.”

“Just... Don’t do anything, Negan. They want to sell the pictures or make a story out of it. If we don’t give them anything, they’ll go away.”

“Fuckin’ vultures. It’s fuckin’ Thanksgiving for Christ’s sake! We’re trying to see goddamn family.” He takes a sudden turn to try to loose them.

“Negan!” Chuck cries out, having not expected the movement.

“Those fuckers are not following us all the way to Diane’s.” He takes a few more unsignaled turns and loses the reporters before they leave the city.

Chuck isn’t exactly impressed with his driving. “Don’t do that again.”

“What?”

“Drive like an idiot! You could’ve killed us both!”

“I had it under control.”

“I’d rather have a million pictures get taken of us than to get in a car crash.”

“Sorry I scared you.” He reaches over and grabs her hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss her fingers, since the rest of it is under the cast.

They make it to Diane’s without any further incident and pull into her driveway. She lives in a nice little neighborhood with its own neighborhood watch. Diane had told Chuck and Negan that they had to chase away a few reporters, but they haven’t had any trouble for a few days.

Diane greets Chuck and Negan as they enter. “How was the drive?” she asks.

Negan hugs Diane then Aaron. “We had some shit stuck to our heel for a ways.”

Diane somehow understands that he means a reporter had followed them. “Really? They followed you from your apartment?”

“I think they picked us up away from home,” Negan explains. “They know they’ll get nabbed by the fuckin’ cops if they set foot on that property.”

“They should be arrested,” Aaron throws in his two cents. “What sort of amoral assholes hound two people that just went through what you guys did?”

Chuck nods. “I never really thought about how invasive the press could be. I guess I always just assumed that they asked permission for the photos and stuff.”

Despite the craziness of their lives at the moment, once they sit down to eat, the meal is pretty relaxed.

“You need some help, baby girl?” Negan asks Chuck as she picks up her utensils to cut up her meat.

She giggles. “No. I can manage,” she answers. “I’m getting the hang of this thing.” She lifts her left arm to indicate the cast on her wrist.

He chuckles and holds his hand up. “Just asking.”

“Does it still hurt?” Aaron asks.

“Not really,” Chuck answers. “Every once in a while I’ll have to take some ibuprofen.” She shrugs a shoulder. “It’s not bad. More annoying than anything.”

Diane swallows her bite before talking. “Remember when you broke your foot?”

Negan turns to Chuck. “You broke your foot?”

“Yeah. My senior year in high school,” Chuck explains. “It sucked. I almost didn’t graduate because the gym teacher wouldn’t work with me and I wouldn’t have had the PE credits to graduate if I failed the class.”

“Then I went right to the principal,” Diane jumps in. “She wasn’t too happy with that asshole coach after I told her everything.”

“What a dick,” Negan comments. “I wouldn’t have let you fuckin’ fail.”

“That’s right.” Aaron points at Negan with his fork. “You were a gym coach.”

“I was.”

“Are you thinking of going back to it?” Diane asks. “Since you’re unemployed.”

Chuck looks up to Negan with a smile. He had told her before that he loved teaching kids, so the thought of him doing it again as a warmth blooming in her chest.

“I don’t know,” he answers. He hadn’t really thought about it, but now that the suggestion is out there, it is a good one. “I don’t know if any school would fuckin’ take me, though. Considering the goddamn shit show I’m living now.”

“You weren’t convicted of anything,” Chuck points out. “All the charges were dropped.”

“Everyone still knows I fuckin’ killed someone, though. Parents would probably flip their shit about that.”

“Well, you won’t know until you ask,” Aaron provides.

The rest of the meal is filled with light conversation and a lot of laughs. It’s unlike any Thanksgiving Negan had ever had. When he was a kid, the holiday meal was tense. His alpha father was a violent drunk that treated his omega mother like a slave. Nothing she did was good enough for her husband, so the meal often devolved into smashed plates and screams.

After his parents died, the next time he had Thanksgiving dinner was with Lucile and her family. That was also tense, considering her family hated him from the get.

But this is a real family holiday meal. No yelling. No tears. No broken glass. No glares from across the table. This is absolutely perfect. And it has Negan daydreaming about cooking his own turkey in his own kitchen in his own house in the suburbs. He wouldn’t make Chuck slave away at the meal by herself, like his father. He’d help out. Shit, he’d do most of it. Diane and Aaron would be there. Maybe he’d invite Simon, if he didn’t have any place to be. The kids would be seated at their own little table off to the side with their own little plates.

Kids? Negan questions himself.

“You all done, Negan?” Diane pulls him from his thoughts as she points to his plate.

“Oh, uh...” He clears his throat. “Let me do that.” He stands with his plate in his hand and moves to pick up the others on the table.

“No, no. You’re a guest,” Diane tries.

“You cooked all that shit. Let me clean up.” Negan continues to gather the plates, despite Diane huffing beside him.

Chuck giggles at the exchange. “Me and Aaron are gonna set up the other room while you guys clean up.” She and Aaron quickly leave to go back into the living room.

Diane chuckles to herself. “They do that every year.” She shakes her head and walks over to the sink with Negan.

He puts the dirty plates in the sink and starts to wash them. “They leave you to clean up every year?”

“They do.” She takes the cleaned plate from Negan and dries it off, setting it on the counter. “Did you like the meal?” she asks with a smirk.

He smiled. “I fuckin’ loved it.”

She chuckles. “I saw that goofy grin on your face.”

“I’m forty seven years old and that was the first nice Thanksgiving dinner I had.”

Diane’s face turns sad. “Really?”

“Yup. My home life wasn’t exactly The Waltons when I was a kid. And after I got married...” He pauses. “Her family didn’t like me much.” He looks back down in the sink and scrubs one of the plates.

Diane pats him on the back. “Well, you’re welcome here. It might’ve been rough at first, but you’re family now.”

He smiles at her. “Thanks, Diane.”

“But don’t you dare ever call me mom,” she jokes. “I’m only a year older than you.”

“Shit, really?”

She playfully punches his arm. “I don’t look that bad for my age!”

He laughs. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just... shit. Chuck is fuckin’ young, I guess.”

“I wasn’t really that old when I had her. Just turned twenty two. Me and her dad got pregnant on our honeymoon, pretty much.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. But Chuck is the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Negan doesn’t say anything as he starts to wash the last plate.

“You don’t have to say it,” Diane whispers. “But I know she’s the best thing to happen to you, too.”

He looks over to her, and nods his reply.

Chuck, from the other room, is getting impatient. “Come on, guys! Hurry up!”

Diane chuckles. “We’re done!” she calls back.

When Negan and Diane enter the room, Negan sees that there is now a card table set up in the center of the room with four chairs placed around it. Monopoly is set up in the center of the table with all the money divvied out already.

“What’s this?” Negan asks.

Chuck comes over to him with a smile on her face. “We always play Monopoly on Thanksgiving, but first...” she takes him by the hand and leads him closer to the piano. She sits down on the loveseat beside it and prompts Negan to sit with her.

Aaron picks up his acoustic guitars and Diane sits down at the piano.

“I see what this is,” Negan says. “You’re trying to ambush me, but I’m telling you. You really don’t fuckin’ want me singing.”

Chuck leans toward Negan and starts to sing. “Is this the real life?” Diane and Aaron join in on their instruments as Chuck continues. “Is this just fantasy?”

He shakes his head. “Bohemian Rhapsody? That’s fuckin’ low. No one can resist singing this shit.”

Diane and Aaron join in singing now. “Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality.”

Negan shakes his head. “Nope. Not gonna sing.”

“Open your eyes.” Everyone looks at Negan as they sing their parts. “Look up to the skies and see...”

They all stop and stare at Negan, waiting for him to join in. He lets out a huff and takes in a breath.

“I’m just a poor boy,” he starts quietly then Chuck and Diane jump in with the background vocals. “I need no sympathy,” he continues.

“Because I’m easy come, easy go. Little high, little low,” the Langdon trio sings in harmony.

Negan likes hearing them sing. And though he would rather just lean back and listen to them, being part of the song is nice, too.

“Anyway the wind blows doesn’t really matter to me,” he sings more confidently over the harmonies, though his voice is much lower than the song calls for. “To me...”

They go through the whole song, building in intensity until they’re all practically screaming the crescendo. The rest of the song devolves into fits of giggles until the last notes are played.

“Bravo!” Diane calls out as she claps her hands.

“Yes,” Negan starts. “Bravo to all you guys who know what you’re fuckin’ doing.”

Chuck nudges him with her shoulder. “I liked hearing you sing.”

He looks down at her. “You did?”

“Yeah,” she answers with a smile. “You sound good. I like your voice.”

Negan starts to lean in for a kiss, but Diane (intentionally) interrupts the moment. She may be okay with Negan and Chuck’s relationship, but that doesn’t mean she wants to see them all over each other.

“Time for Monopoly!” she calls out as she moves toward the card table.

The others follow her and take their seats at the table. The board is already set up with three pieces already on the Go square, the Scottie dog for Chuck, the thimble for Diane, and the top hat for Aaron.

Chuck picks up the remaining pieces and holds them out for Negan to choose. “You get to pick your piece.”

He instantly grabs the little car. “The race car, for sure.”

Chuck sets the piece on Go with the others and they start to play the game.

Negan rolls the dice and starts his first turn. “I haven’t played this game since I was a fuckin’ kid.”

“You remember the rules, right?” Aaron asks.

Negan lands on Connecticut Avenue. “Shit yeah, I remember. It’s a fuckin’ land grab.” He takes out the $120 to buy it and hands it to Diane, the banker. “And you all are going fuckin’ down.”

As the game progresses, it becomes clear that both Negan and Chuck are shrewd capitalists. They quickly become opponents, their only goal is to take the other one out.

Diane laughs as Negan lands on one of Chuck’s hotels, letting out a curse as he gathers the money he owes. “Did we forget to tell you that Chuck usually wins every year?”

“I’m not out yet,” Negan comments. “I wanna start making deals.”

Diane and Negan become allies as Chuck and Aaron strategize themselves. The game drags on, with both Diane and Aaron going bankrupt, leaving just Negan and Chuck with their respective Monopoly fortunes. It seems they’re fairly evenly matched and the game continues on for a long while with money exchanged between the two with no real accumulation of wealth and neither any closer to bankruptcy. Negan would land on a hotel and give Chuck a bunch of money. Then Chuck would land on a hotel and give it right back.

Diane yawns as it’s getting late. “I think we can consider this game a draw.”

Negan looks to Chuck. “I’m gonna beat you at this stupid game at Christmas.”

Chuck laughs. “We play Risk after Christmas dinner.”

“Even fuckin’ better! I love Risk. I used to have a tournament for my baseball team at the end of the season every year. And guess what?”

Chuck gives him a sassy face. “What?”

He leans in. “I always won.”

Chuck laughs. “Don’t get cocky, mister. I always win my games, too.”

Aaron jumps in. “And that’s with me and Diane teaming up against her.”

Negan smirks at Chuck. “You’re on, little girl. We’ll see come Christmas that there’s a new fuckin’ king in town.”

Everyone says goodbye and Chuck and Negan head home. Since it’s late, they immediately go into Chuck’s room to get ready for bed once they get there.

“Did you have fun with my crazy family?” Chuck asks as she pulls on her purple nightgown featuring a pattern of little kitty cat faces.

Negan strips down to his boxers. “I fuckin’ loved it. It made me realize that I’m fuckin’ sick of this city. The traffic, the noise, all the fuckin’ people... I want a yard again. I want peace and fuckin’ quiet again. So I’m gonna look into buying a house.”

Chuck’s face instantly drops. All she can think about is that Negan would be moving away from her. She wouldn’t be able to just run next door too see him. She’d have jump in her car and drive however long to get to him.

He sees the look on her face and knows what she’s thinking. “Come here.” He pulls her into him and sits on the edge of the bed with her right beside him. “I want you to come with me. Move in with me. We already practically fuckin’ live together.”

“You want me to buy a house with you?”

“Fuck yeah. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“I-I don’t know if I have the money to buy a house.”

“You don’t have to fuckin’ pay for it, sweetheart. I got the money. And I wanna take fuckin’ care of you. Get you away from all this shit.” He gestures vaguely. “Away from those fuckin’ reporters and anyone else that would fuckin’ bother you in this city.”

She bites her lip to keep from grinning. The prospect of officially living with Negan is very exciting to her. “You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“No,” he answers bluntly. “I’m fuckin’ sure about this.”

She grins up at him. “Okay. Let’s get a house.”

He leans down to kiss her. “Shit, I’m fuckin’ excited.”

The thought of moving forward with Negan in this way has her thoughts racing. “Should we talk about... the other thing?”

“The other thing?”

“Claiming.”

His eyes instinctively flick to her neck then back to her face. “Claiming?”

“I mean, moving in is a big step, right? So... I mean, we’re together. And you’re an alpha and I’m an omega. If we’re together, don’t you want to claim me?”

He thinks for a second. He does want to claim her, but he’s afraid to. He’s not sure if he’s ready to have an actual mate again. “What do you want?” he finally asks.

“I’m-I’m a little scared of being claimed.”

That makes his heart drop a little. “You are?” he asks. Even though he’s scared, too, it hurts a little to hear that she feels the same.

“It’ll change me, right? And I’m still sort of learning how I am as an omega to begin with.”

“That makes sense. You’re not afraid of me , though?”

“No, no. Of course not. I know you’re my... my alpha. I want to be your mate. It’s just...” she trails off.

“Scary?” he completes the sentence.

“Yeah.”

He wraps his arms around her and pulls her into a hug. “We got time, baby girl.” He kisses the top of her head. “There’s no fuckin’ rush.”

She hugs him back. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”

He pushes her back to look at her. “You never have to worry about me pushing you into any-fuckin’-thing. I would never hurt you like that.”

 The next morning, Chuck wakes up to an empty bed. That’s not unusual; Negan is an earlier riser than Chuck. She gets out of bed and feels a little twinge of something, but it’s slight so she ignores it and exits her room. Negan, dressed only in his boxers, is on the couch, drinking his coffee and reading the paper.

“Morning,” Chuck greets. She looks him over and sees a light blush on his cheeks. “You feel okay? You look flushed.” She comes forward to place her hand on his forehead.

“I’m fine.” As soon and Chuck gets close to him, he realizes what’s going on. “You’re going into heat.” He sets his coffee down and runs his hands up her legs to her hips. “I’m starting a rut, I guess.”

At his words, Chuck starts to recognize the feeling in her abdomen as such. “Oh god,” she murmurs.

Negan pulls her down into his lap and wraps her in his arms. “It’s gonna be okay,” he whispers.

Chuck is nervous. This will be the first heat that she won’t spend in the hospital. Dr. Bailey had told her that with Negan there, her heat won’t get too bad and won’t be dangerous. Still, she’s worried.

Negan pushes some of Chuck’s hair back and cradles her face. “I’m gonna take care of you.”

Chuck nods. She does trust him, but she’s still anxious.

“Let’s get some food in us before were too far gone to care about that shit.”

Negan makes them breakfast then sets out to ready Chuck’s room. He leaves a case of bottled water by the door to keep them hydrated and brings out some extra towels in case things get messy. He also sets out the condoms on the nightstand for easy access, considering they are going to be using a lot of them, probably.

While he’s doing that, Chuck leaves a text for her mother telling her that she’s going into heat and probably won’t be texting back for a couple days. She also gives Dr. Bailey a quick call with the development, as well.

After getting one of the condoms ready, they both cuddle up on Chuck’s bed to rest before their heat/rut sinks in too much. After a few minutes, Negan starts to instinctively run his hand over her, covering her in his scent as his rut starts to wrestle more control over his rational mind.

Chuck isn’t doing much better. Her omega side is calling out for her to get this all started. As her temperature starts to rise, she pulls away from Negan and strips off her nightgown, leaving her naked.

The sight is too much for Negan and he practically pounces on her, his lips crashing into hers in a fervent kiss. She returns it with enthusiasm as she snakes her fingers through his hair to pull him even further into her.

His hands rove over her body, squeezing her curves and leaving his scent on her skin. It doesn’t take long before his impatience starts to grow. He pulls back from Chuck to remove his boxers, freeing his already hard cock.

When Negan moves away, Chuck’s omega side takes over and her body turns onto its stomach with her knees tucked underneath her. The classic submissive pose is too much for Negan’s alpha side to handle and he is spurred into action.

He crawls over Chuck’s back and swiftly enters her, starting up a brutal pace. He had never taken Chuck like this before, but he’s not exactly in his right mind. Neither is Chuck, though, and Negan’s movements are just what she needs to sate her heat.

“Fuck, omega,” Negan growls into Chuck’s ear. “I’m gonna knot you.”

“Yes,” she moans.

As they both get closer to their ends, Chuck instinctively tilts her head to the side, exposing her mating spot. The action has Negan’s alpha side completely overriding his rational brain and he places his mouth to her neck.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” he groans as his knot swells.

“Alpha,” she moans and bucks her hips back into him.

“I’m gonna knot you.”

“Yes,” she breathes.

He hovers his mouth over her neck as his knot pops inside her and triggers her release. As he cums, somewhere deep in his mind, there’s a voice telling him Don’t do it! She told you she wasn’t fuckin’ ready!

But his alpha side is too strong. Especially when he sees the fading scar of Eldritch’s bite on her neck way too close for comfort. He sinks his teeth into her mating spot with a growl as he holds her tightly against him, not much caring for the consequences of his actions. Yet.

[full-moon-writings]

Beyond the Midnight Killers: Chapter 2 The Book of Thoth

Warnings: Cussing, Violence

Italics - Thought/ Telepathy             

The boy’s glance at each other watching Hakyeon’s retreating back. What’s going on? Wonshik asks looking to Taekwoon for answers. “I don’t know. Let’s just finish this and I’ll talk to him after,” he says exasperated, waving the boys along to catch up. “Are you all ready? This won’t be as easy as those guys were,” Hakyeon warns. “Don’t worry, N, we know the plan,” Hyuk says reassuringly. “Good, everyone be on guard and stay alert. We have no idea what we are going into or what this guy has up his sleeve,” Hakyeon reaches for the door, flinging it open. A loud, metal clang erupts as the door hits the outside wall. Mice scurry away from the sound into the shadows. The ominous glow of the moonlight reaching in through the open door. The long, dark, and dusty hallway creaks with each step, kicking up dust cloud around their feet.

They are in the third room on the left, heart rates are elevated, and there are about 4 men, Wonshik rattles off to the group. “Well let’s get this done then,” Hakyeon says sighing.

The hallway seemingly stretches on forever. Only the hooting of the owl outside being heard. The boys murmur to each other, “If this book is so important why does this guy not have a lot of security?” Jaehwan questions. “I don’t know but even more reason to be alert. Something doesn’t feel right,” Taekwoon says looking back at the others. His attention switches to Hakyeon his posture is rigid, heartbeat has risen, and by his earlier outburst, he is obviously on edge.

Ripping open the door, the guards jump to their feet as the group piles into the room. Four men stand surrounding the book sitting on an old, dilapidated pedestal. The moonlight perfectly positioned giving a mysterious glow to the book. “Hello boys, it's so nice of you to come to play” their boss states jumping down from a pile of crates. Their heads snap to the sound of his feet hitting the ground. Hakyeon’s eyes widen as the man steps out of the shadows. “Oh, come on Hakyeonie don’t glare like that. No reason to be angry that I found the book before you. Let’s face it I will actually use it for what it was intended for,” the man sneers. The boy’s heads turn to Hakyeon, eyes widening. How does he know your name? Wonshik asks. “You didn’t tell them why they are here? Or who I am?” he states faking a hurt expression. “You have no right to call me by that name anymore, Salvador” Hakyeon spits out. Salvador smirks a deadly smile in response, “Your team … no pets, don’t seem to understand what is going on,” he spits out glancing at Wonshik. A growl rips through Wonshik’s throat “Stand down Ravi!” N yells. “Oh, Hakyeonie that’s no way to treat your pe…” Ravi launches himself at the first guard. A scream ripping out of the guard’s throat echoing through the room. Everyone looks around startled as the first guard lays gasping on the ground, blood pouring from his neck, a gurgling sound reverberating off the walls. “Dammit! You should learn to keep your fucking dog on a leash!” Salvador screams. Wonshik looks back at Hakyeon meeting his eyes. Hakyeon’s face darkens as he stares at Wonshik blankly. “Get those fuckers! They don’t leave this room alive!”.

“This should be easy boys,” Hyuk kneels as lightning weaves around his hands. Placing his hands on the ground the lightning spreads across the floor inch by inch wrapping itself around the guard’s ankles. Their screams echoing in the darkly lit room. A burning flesh smell rising as they fall to the ground.

CRACK. “AGHH!” Hakyeon screams falling to the floor. A large welp raising on his neck, “What the fuck was that,” Taekwoon screams grabbing Hakyeon. Where is your barrier? Wonshik screams to them “It’s...the book, I don’t have the ability to stop him.” Hakyeon chokes out. “He has already used it. We need to get out of here. We can’t take him like this.” No, we aren’t running from this if we don’t take care of him now, we won’t be able to, Ravi says looking between the group. “What’s wrong BOYS can’t take someone who is on equal ground,” Salvador mocks, walking toward the middle of the room he steps over his guards’ bodies “TSK, TSK, they were as useless as I thought. Now should we continue,” Salvador says sweeping his arm out as an invitation.

Hyuk’s smirk grows “I’m always up for a challenge.” An orange, fire like glow consumes Hyuk’s body, claws grow from his fingertips, hair grows from his body, 5 tails sprouting out. He kneels to the ground as his transformation completes. A large fox stands in the room, his shoulders reaching the height of Hongbin’s waist. Salvador’s eyes enlarge, a flash of fear showing. His focus lands on Hyuk’s tails a smirk forming on his face “Wait, am I supposed to be afraid of a fox who only has five of its tails. You’re not even fully grown yet,” he says falling into a fit of laughter. A snarl escapes Hyuk’s throat. Salvador straightening himself “I guess I’ll have to teach this little fox to respect its elders,” a black shadow-like hand sprouts from Salvador’s hand reaching across the room. Hyuk and Ravi crouch down readying themselves to attack. The shadow whips across the room sending Ravi flying into a pile of crates, Hyuk’s speed however, allows him to dodge and run towards Salvador. But, the shadow grabs at Hyuk picking him up, a gasp spilling out of his mouth as the shadow tightens around him. “Hakyeon it seems your little pets can’t quite keep up. Maybe you should train them better,” he says as he throws Hyuk against a wall. Ravi and Hyuk slowly struggle to pull themselves up from the ground.

Hongbin and Ken glance at each other. Illusions are the only way Hongbin. I need you to distract him, Ken says looking towards Hongbin. Hongbin shakes his head desperately. You can do this just distract him. He seems to like to play around throw some wit back at him or something. I need time to craft it. Hongbin nods his head reluctantly. The group moves to block Hakyeon and Jaehwan from view.

“Humans always have such an inferiority complex,” Hongbin snickers, throwing the words in Salvador’s face. “Well, now I don’t. I am as powerful as you monsters.” “But, are you really? You require a book and by all this showmanship you want attention and praise. That is always the downfall of humans,” Hongbin states teasingly, shrugging his shoulders in response. “That’s true. Why do humans never learn from the stories they create? The bad guy always monologues. Even in history a ruler gets too cocky and ends up being overthrown by his closest advisor,” Taekwoon adds to the conversation joining the group. An infuriated sigh escapes him “I don’t fucking get how you can be so cocky now. I literally have the power to kill all of you with a snap of my finger and here you are wasting my time!”

Ken kneels beside Hakyeon, are you okay? Nodding his head Hakyeon shifts to get up, brushing the dirt from his sleeves. Ken starts to craft the illusion, Hakyeon’s eyes stare at the cloud-like orb between Jaehwan’s hands. Seeing a replica of the room in the orb, he watches as each item in the room appears one by one in the cloud. His eyes transfixed to the magic in front of him. He has heard about it but never experienced it himself. Still transfixed he doesn’t register Jaehwan looking at him a slight smirk on his face before making himself focus. Hakyeon I need something that will distract him long enough. You know him, apparently. Give me some information on him, Ken asks side eyeing him. “I don’t know. I didn’t know him long.”  I need something Hakyeon. A weakness of some type there must be something you know. “I don’t know. He is cocky and hates feeling inferior. He had a sister she was killed by a Vampire which set him on his spiral for power,” Jaehwan’s eyes widen, what vampire? N pauses for a moment “It doesn’t matter. That should be plenty.” Fine. BANG, a loud sound resonates through the room as a chair goes flying into a nearby wall, distracting Hakyeon from Jaehwan’s craft. I’m sorry Jaehwan whispers as he throws the orb into the air.

“You insolent fucking monsters. Lower your eyes vampire you have no power here.” Taekwoon’s glare intensifies (if that’s even possible). “God, you fucking piece of shit”. Finally, losing control, a flash of light blinds everyone in the room. Looking around frantically the boys lay their eyes on Taekwoon’s body. A pool of blood surrounding him, his eyes glossed over. Hakyeon crawls over to him taking his hand in his trying to hold back tears. “Fucking bloodsucker. Serves him right.” Ravi’s head whips around baring his teeth at the man. “What’s wrong little puppy? Another one of your masters left you. Are you ready for your turn?” Salvador says his voice dropping to a dangerously low octave. A ball of lightning gathers in Salvador’s hand. “You’re not the only one who can summon lightning. I’m not going to be as merciful as you were though. This won’t fry you instantly. This is going to fry each nerve ending one by one until you feel nothing and maybe then I will put each of you out of your misery as Hakyeon watches.” Salvador says a sinister look taking over his face. The moons light going out as if on cue, enveloping the room in darkness. Ravi sprints towards him. Salvador raises his hands pointing them at Ravi. Launching himself at Salvador just as he moves to send a bolt, latching onto his arm. Salvador whips his arm around frantically trying to get him off. “Hold onto him Ravi” Ken shouts at him as the imagery drops around them. The moon’s rays illuminating the space around Taekwoon’s body.  Hakyeon’s eyes widen looking down at him as his eyes open, disoriented and confused. Everyone’s eyes turn to Jaehwan.

“What the fuck is going on? Get off me, you mangy mutt!” The lightning dying from Salvador’s hand. “Sorry, no book, no powers. How’s it feel to be a poor, weak human again?” Hongbin retorts. “Fuck you! You insolent monsters.” Leo and N rise from their position on the ground, leaning against each other “Ken bring me the book.” “Aye Aye, Captain!” Ken says handing the book over as N rolls his eyes. “How the fuck are you alive? I killed you! You all saw it. I saw the realization in each of your eyes as he died on the ground.” “Uh, that would be me. You saw what I wanted you to see,” Ken says raising his hand.  “Also, I’m sorry but, I needed your reactions to be genuine for this to work,” Ken said rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “So, you fucking killed me!? Everything was black! I couldn’t move! I didn’t know what was going on!” Taekwoon yells. “He had to do what needed to be done, Leo” Hongbin interjects trying to calm the situation. “Did you know?” Taekwoon asks as his eyes shift to Hongbin’s. “I had an idea,” he whispers seeing the betrayal in Taek’s eyes. “Sorry,” Jaehwan says quietly hanging his head. “We will finish this later,” Hakyeon says staring at Jaehwan and Hongbin. Nodding his head Jaehwan moves to stand beside Hongbin. “So, you aren’t the perfect little team,” Salvador chuckles out. Ravi clenches his jaws tighter causing Salvador to scream out. As fun as this is guys, what are we doing with him? I can only hold onto him for so long, Ravi inquires looking at Hakyeon. “Kill him.”

This is so long but i wrote this and changed it so many times cause I wanted to make it good. I hope you guys like it. The next chapter will include a Collage for what Taekwoon’s mansion/ VIXX’s headquarters look like. Hope you liked the chapter. As always comments and advice are welcomed! 🖤🖤🖤

Subscribers: @tanithrea

BMK Masterlist

~Admin Freckled Moon 🌙

[kieren-fucking-walker]

To Know Fear (Svlad Cjelli)

“Sooner or later he’ll get swept up in something and chatter away or wander off, following a thread only he can pull on and ending up at the strangest conclusions. He’s clever, bright, and imaginative, sometimes to the point where his teachers and parents are concerned, because Svlad Cjelli knows things he shouldn’t.”                                                             ***

This is the first in a series of stories looking at the different people Dirk has been in his lifetime, and how they are all a part of him even if he tries to keep them separate.

We start with Svlad Cjelli, a boy who wears his heart on his sleeve.

It’s here! The promised angst! Part one of my “To Know the Parts of Me By Name” series and my first fic for this fandom. I hope you enjoy it (if enjoy is the right word.)

(AO3)

(To Know the Parts of Me by Name {you are here} Part: {1} / 2 [+ add on]/ 3)

             You have a tender heart my love, I'd hate to see it broken.

                                                           ***

Svlad Cjelli is deceptively shy. Upon first meeting he is wide eyed and chronically anxious, the kind of boy who hides behind his mother’s legs from strangers long past a time he should be doing so; but always eager to pet a dog, or a cat, or indeed a lizard if he happens upon one. It never really lasts long though, sooner or later he’ll get swept up in something and chatter away or wander off, following a thread only he can pull on and ending up at the strangest conclusions. He’s clever, bright, and imaginative, sometimes to the point where his teachers and parents are concerned, because Svlad Cjelli knows things he shouldn’t.

If you ask his mother, Svlad’s favourite word is “why?” He’ll question everything from the height of a nearby tree to why he doesn’t get dizzy if the world is spinning all the time. Why the sky is blue, why do cats meow, why does he have to go to bed right now and can’t he stay up a little longer?  When he’s finally wrestled into bed he can’t sleep, tossing and turning and eventually getting up to creep out of the house and follow the tug in his gut that is always familiar but never this strong.

When he comes home in the morning his parents sweep him into a hug, but it’s not long before they start shouting at him. The police are there and he doesn’t understand why they’ve gone to all this fuss over nothing, he was fine. Look, he shows them, a line of cats sat outside the front door, every missing cat from the neighbourhood in fact. Their tears of anger and relief fall silent; nobody congratulates him on his findings.

The cats are returned to their owners, and everyone forgets about it. Or at least they don’t talk about it, not in front of Svlad. He starts to walk in on whispered arguments that close up as soon as he walks into the room. His mother looks at him with worry, his father with a wariness that wasn’t there before. Sometimes, he thinks, their smiles don’t quite reach their eyes.

He still asks, question after question and seeking clarification every now and then, but it isn’t encouraged anymore. The questions are met with sighs rather than answers, ‘I don’t know’ more often than ‘let’s find out’. It feels like something has been taken away.

The older boys at school like to taunt him, ask him why’s in return. Why he’s so weird, why he wants to know so many things, why he can’t shut up, why he’s crying so much over a bird with a broken wing they found in the playground. When he tells them it’s because it’s hurt they sneer, one of them throws a rock at it. The bird stops moving and they tell him it doesn’t hurt anymore so he can stop crying. Later on when he asks his mother why they did that, she tells him that most people aren’t as soft as he is, and he finds himself wishing he hadn’t asked at all.

One day Svlad Cjelli tells a girl in his class that he’s sorry about her grandfather's death.

He’s pulled out of school two days later when the man passes away without warning.

                                                            ***

There’s a man that comes to talk to him not long after that. He’s nice and brings him sweets, asks him questions about himself while his parents watch from the other side of the room, faces drawn in trepidation. Svlad is excited by the curiosity, so used to being dismissed or scoffed at in recent weeks that he embraces the questions readily and tells him everything he asks about, even some things he doesn’t. The man asks him how he feels about learning more about himself and Svlad’s reply is instantly enthusiastic. Learning is his favourite thing to do. When he leaves, the man shakes his hand like he’s a proper adult and Svlad feels better than he has in a long time.

It doesn’t last.

The whispered conversations keep happening; they turn into snippy arguments and then full on fights with no regard for whether or not he overhears. The phone rings several times a day. When it’s picked up his parents speak in rushed whispers, glancing over at him with something that looks like guilt. One time he catches his father slamming the door in the face of the man who came to talk to him. He doesn’t understand what’s going on, and he doesn't get any answers when he asks.

When it happens, Svlad Cjelli remembers it like this.

As soon as he goes to bed there’s a bad feeling in his stomach. It’s like the pull towards finding the cats but much stronger, more tumultuous, like he’s on a beach watching the tide recede and waiting for the tsunami to come rushing back in to land. He can’t stay still, the same thing all over again, tossing and turning and feeling an itching in his palms that demand he do something. He remembers what happened last time he followed that pull, pushes it away as best he can, grits his teeth and closes his eyes...

...and wakes up to the loudest sound he’s ever heard. It’s disorienting, the splintering of wood as the door is ripped off its frame and he only really catches on to the danger when the screaming starts. Something happens, it sounds like fireworks being shot off one after the other and it’s enough to make him crawl up under his bed, dragging his blanket with him and watching the door with wide eyes from his hiding place.

There’s more screaming, and then laughter, and then he hears his father asking please over and over and Svlad knows, he knows before they both fall silent that it’s the last time he’ll hear their voices. He wants to run but there’s nowhere to go and he’s crying before he realises, pressing his hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet.

It doesn’t matter. There are footsteps coming down the hall and they echo in the silence like gunfire, which is what he knows the firework sound was now, which is what he already knew but was pretending not to if he’s honest. The door creaks open and he sees a pair of boots, that’s all. It’s just one man. But it can’t be one man, surely? One man couldn’t have made that much noise, it sounded like an army. Ultimately it could be one man or one hundred, it makes no difference. The man stood in his doorway takes a few steps forwards, careful, measured, and then he waits.

Svlad stares, caught up in trying so hard to keep quiet he’s almost unable to stop his breath coming in faster. The room goes so still he starts to wonder if it’s even real. He knows the man is there, the man knows he’s there. It’s a standoff.

He breaks first.

As soon as the whimper is out of his mouth he’s being dragged out from under the bed, kicking and screaming as he goes but it gets him nowhere. He’s not strong enough or big enough to put up any kind of fight and the grip on his arm is so tight he wonders if it won’t break. When the man finally gets him upright he’s smiling, wide in a way that meets his eyes but there’s no warmth there. Cold and bottomless in a way that will haunt him long after this moment is over.

“Under the bed. Of course. Where else would you find the monster?” his laugh is back, holding the eye contact for long enough to make him squirm, but he doesn’t say anything else as he marches downstairs. He’s pulling Svlad along at a pace he can’t quite keep up with, stumbling over his own feet as he tries to stop himself from being outright dragged through the house, something which ultimately fails as soon as they reach the living room and his knees immediately give out beneath him.

There’s blood, a lot of it. That’s the first thing that hits him. It’s red and sticky and still oozing its way across the carpet from where his mother is lying across the floor, glassy eyes forever frozen in an expression of horror which appears to cut right through him. His father is a few feet away by the window, reaching out towards her but Svlad doesn’t get to see the expression on his face because it’s not there anymore. There’s nothing. Just blood and bone rearranged into a mess of nothing where his face should be, and Svlad starts screaming.

He screams and screams and screams. The man dragging him doesn’t seem to be at all bothered by this, pulling him through the house and past his parents’ bodies, tossing him into a van with no real care and laughing that same sick laugh as they take off, but still he screams. On and on until his throat is raw with it and it turns into sobs, a deep river of confusion and loss welling up inside of him and he can’t begin to understand what’s happening to him only that he’s never going to know his life before it again. There’s fear there, terror really, but it’s almost eclipsed by the crushing weight of how much he’s failing to comprehend his situation. It’s a small mercy that by the time his breath is coming in too fast for him to keep up with he’s already exhausted himself and  passes out not long after.

                                                           ***

When he wakes up, he’s in an unfamiliar room. It’s sterile, a bed, a side table, and a big mirror wall that he feels like he’s being watched through but doesn’t know enough to know for sure yet. His throat is raw and dry and he stares at the ceiling for a long time, unblinking and hollow. There’s panic, the fear is nearly all consuming but it barely makes a dent in his inability to move, it feels like someone has filled him up with cement and dropped him into the ocean to drown. He couldn’t swim to the surface if he tried, dragged down by the weight of it.

He has no idea how much time has passed by the time someone enters the room, he screws his eyes shut and turns away from the door, curling in on himself and clutching at the blanket under him that feels nothing like anything he knows.

The voice is familiar. It’s the man, the nice man, the one with the questions. He’s soft when he speaks, soothing, trying to explain something. Svlad lets the cadence of his voice carry but he blocks out the words. The man is there for a long time, but eventually he leaves. Food comes a period of time later, but he doesn’t touch it. They leave him water and he doesn’t touch that either. At one point they play music, something soft that he recognises immediately, making him curl in tighter on himself and press his hands over his ears. The familiar sound turns his stomach but he can’t block it out when it’s all around him. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s just given them something valuable.

It continues on like this for a number of days. The man comes in to talk to him, he doesn’t respond. Food is left, it isn’t eaten. Water is left, he drinks only once because he feels like his next breath will shred his throat if he doesn’t, but that’s it. They don’t try any more music and he exists in silence save for the opening and closing of the door and the hitching of his own breath.

That is until the fifth day when they blare an alarm so loud it feels like it rattles his teeth in his head. He reacts to that one, startled into action but there’s nothing to do and nowhere to go, it’s ringing in his ears, echoing around in his skull and despite the way he screams for them to turn it off all he can do is sink into the corner and try to block it out. This is the day he’s taken for testing for the first time.

They run medical tests, he’s prodded and poked and injected. They take blood and shine light into his eyes, take his heartrate once, twice, three times. Weigh him and measure him and say things about him to strangers that he doesn’t understand. This time when they give him food he eats, but he throws it back up not long after, his stomach rejecting how quickly he’d tried to fill it up. They make him try again, slower, and this one he keeps down. He gets a smile for all his efforts, and watches the doctor tick a box marked “permissible.”

The next tests are stranger. People asking him to predict things, asking him about his ‘powers,’ where he got them and what they can do. He tells them he doesn’t know, because he doesn’t and perhaps when they realise that they’ve made a mistake they’ll let him go, but if anything it seems to infuriate them. It gets worse and worse, the questions get harder, the games more outlandish and confusing and impossible, and when it’s enough that he breaks down crying they strap something up to his arm and run the tests again. This time every wrong answer is accompanied by a sharp shock of pain, enough to steal his breath from him and only getting stronger. He still can’t tell them what they want to hear.

It goes on forever, or so it feels like. Pain and exhaustion and hunger and tears. Over and over again and never, never right. It’s too much, everything is too much and it’s all he can do to pull himself together enough at the end of the day to get through the next.

Svlad Cjelli is terrified. He’s traumatised and confused, scared and weak and still, still soft. Too soft. He will still cry over birds with broken wings, he will still trust someone if they show him kindness no matter how small the act, he will still smile at the sun when it reappears from behind the clouds. Svlad Cjelli is gentle and kind and he will not survive this.

And so when he finally tells them something they want to hear and they look at him like he’s the answer to all of their problems, Project Icarus puts Svlad Cjelli to bed and locks him away at the back of his mind, hoping this time it will be enough to keep the darkness from his door.

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

*Halloween* Patrick's Sweater. (Patrick Stump x Reader)

Request: a user on Wattpad: ‘Sweaters with Patrick Stump’

Prompt 17: Sweaters

Patrick’s sweater.

Navy blue, tremendously oversized, a tiny bit worn and frayed at the sleeves; it was more comforting than anything in the universe to you.

You loved wearing it. When the soft wool caressed your skin as you sunk into it, it felt as if you were being hugged by Patrick himself, and you absolutely adored it.

Patrick loved the sweater too – in fact, it was his favourite one – and usually, he wore it all throughout the Halloween-Christmas season. But now that the two of you were dating, and you had fallen in love with the piece of clothing just as he had, he would (quite reluctantly) leave his sweater at your place for you to wear whenever he was away – just so that you could have a metaphorical piece of him to hold on to until his physical form could take over.

Like now, for instance.

Fall Out Boy was currently on tour, which meant that you were at home, huddled on the sofa in Patrick’s sweater. One of your arms were propped up on the armrest, holding up your head as your droopy eyes tried its hardest to stay focused on whatever show was on TV. Your puppy came bounding into the room and jumped up into your lap, and you let out a yawn before giving him a cuddle and readjusting so that the both of you could be comfortable. The playful pup nipped at the sleeves of the sweater, and you lightly swatted him away. Your pet was just as crazy over Patrick as you were, so you were certain that you weren’t the only one who loved the item of clothing for the lingering scent it held.

“Nooooo,” you whined, frowning as you once again swatted the hyper animal away. “I know you miss him. I do too, but ruining his clothes is not gonna help.”

He let out a whine rather similar to your own, and after a few more nips, he settled down and fell asleep in your lap. Giggling softly, you scratched the top of his head before dozing off too.

~

The unwanted sound of your alarm woke you up the next morning, causing your pup to whine at the piercing sound. You stretched your arm out to the side of the bed, stroking his fur and mumbling an apology while your other hand killed the horrible noise. You zombied out of bed and towards the bathroom, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to wake up a bit more. Turning the tap on, you removed Patrick’s sweater, leaving you in just your underwear; you walked back into the bedroom and put the sweater on the dresser, where you normally leave it until you return home and slip into its comfort again.

After finishing your morning routine (get dressed for work, have breakfast, feed the dog), you grabbed your coat from the hook next to the front door and slinked into its confines, grabbing your purse and keys.

“Okay,” you said to the pup as you adjusted the collar of your shirt over your coat, “Be good. Mommy will be home soon. Love you.”

You bent down to ruffle his fur, smiling when he wagged his tail in appreciation. Making sure you had everything you needed, you headed out the door, blowing a kiss at the animal in one last ‘see you later’.

~

The workday was disappointingly uneventful. The only noteworthy thing was the new coffee machine they had installed in the break room; you practically squealed with joy at the sight of them. The previous machine had broken months ago, and you’d been living off of the crappy instant coffee they’d given as a replacement, which had no soothing effect on that caffeine itch of yours. So yeah, the new instalment was pretty darn amazing. But other than that, your day was pretty boring.

Trudging up the steps of the front porch and unlocking the door, your mind drifted to Patrick’s sweater as you shrugged off your coat and hung it back on the hook.

“(Your/Dog’s/Name), I’m home!” you yelled in a singsong voice, removing your pumps and wiggling your feet around. A confused frown fell over your face when you failed to hear the heavy thuds and happy panting as your pet ran to greet you, and you made your way around the house in search of him.

When you couldn’t find him, you decided to try upstairs, and made your way up the steps while calling his name.

A devastated gasp fell from your lips and you dropped your shoes when you pushed open your bedroom door. Your pup was sitting in the middle of the room, happily chewing on what was left of Patrick’s sweater; tiny shreds of it were strewn all across the floor.

“Oh, no!” you rushed forward, tapping the pup on the side of the head to tell him to let go, which he did. Another gasp escaped you and sadness filled your eyes as you examined the beloved piece of clothing. Well, what was left of it, anyway. It was practically non-existent at this point.

Dropping your shoulders in disappointment, you looked at your dog. You so much wanted to be mad at him for ruining such an important thing, but his literal puppy-dog eyes made it impossible to do so. Instead, you sprawled yourself out on the floor next to him; he licked your face affectionately and you scratched the underside of his chin.

“Patrick’s gonna kill the both of us, you know that?”

Lick.

“Guess we’ll have to find a replacement, huh? One that looks exactly like it.”

Lick.

“D’you think his mom would know where he got that one?”

Lick lick.

“Worth a shot,” you shrugged, lifting yourself up so that you could grab your cell and call Patrick’s mom. You nervously chewed on your fingernails, hoping that she would know where he got it so that you could go and get a replacement.

“Hello?” she picked up after the third ring.

“Hi, Mrs Stump,” you greeted, “How are you?”

“Oh, (Y/N), hi! I’m wonderful, thanks for asking! How’re things over on your side?”

“Not too great,” you grimaced, “that’s actually why I’m calling… do you remember that navy blue sweater of Patrick’s? The one that he’s totally besotted with?”

“Yes, of course!” she chuckled. “He’s practically in love with that thing.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled nervously, twirling a strand of hair in your fingers, “Well, there was a bit of a, uh, accident.”

“What do you mean?” You could sense her frown through the phone.

“Patrick bought me a puppy for my birthday two months ago, and he’s not completely trained yet. So when I went to work this morning, he kinda… destroyed the sweater.”

She gasped. “Oh, dear Lord.”

You nodded even though she couldn’t see you, and rubbed your eyes. “Do you by any chance remember where he bought it?”

“I’m sorry, sweetie, but he bought that sweater years ago. I honestly couldn’t remember if I tried,” she apologised over the phone.

You sighed and stressfully ran your fingers through your hair. “It’s okay. It was a long shot. I guess I’ll just have to go sweater-hunting, then.”

“You should try that boutique on the corner of Main Street; I saw some lovely ones there just the other day.”

“I’ll make sure to do that. Thank you, Mrs Stump.”

“Always a pleasure, sweetie. Take care.”

“Buh-bye.”

~

You walked through the front door, kicking your shoes off and walking to the kitchen to grab a drink from the fridge before sitting down at the kitchen table with a groan.

Patrick would be home in a week’s time and for the first time ever, you were dreading it. You knew how much he loved that sweater, and now it was gone. Ripped to pieces. Irreparable.

And, it would seem, totally irreplaceable.

You’d spent the last four days searching for a replacement for the demolished sweater, but all your efforts spawned zero results. None of the shops anywhere in your city stocked sweaters like the kind Patrick’s was. Even online, the only sweater you could find that remotely resembled his one was one that was designed for a seven-year-old.

Never in your life would you have thought that you would be so unwilling to see your boyfriend. Patrick would no doubt be upset – devastated, even – and he had every right to be. That sweater was one of his treasures, and it was all your fault that it was gone; you should’ve put it in the closet with the rest of the clothes, but no, you were too lazy.

Taking out your phone, you bit your lip in anticipation as you pulled up your messages, stomach dropping when you saw that you had zero new ones. You had enlisted the help of your friends and family living in other states or countries to find the sweater in their area, but so far, no one could find anything.

You tugged at your hair in frustration and hopped down from the kitchen barstool. Determinedly, you marched to the cupboard in the guest room, yanking it open and pulling down a box from the top shelf.

“You’re my lost resort. Please, don’t let me down.”

~

“Mi amore,” Patrick’s angelic voice echoed through your house as his feet carried him around the rooms in search of you. “(Y/N), where are you? I missed you so-“

The sound of your sobs cut him off, and he hurried into the living room where you were sitting, navy blue wool scattered all around you.

“(Y/N),” he rushed forward to hold you, face and voice full of concern, “What happened?”

“I-I,” you hiccupped through sobs, “I’m sorry, Trick. It’s all my fault!”

“What’s your fault? Mi amore, what happened?”

“Your-your sweater,” you sniffled, “the puppy. He tore it apart and it’s all my fault because I left it where he could reach it and now it’s gone!” Patrick furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth to speak but you continued, “And I tried to get you a new one but then I couldn’t find one that looked anything like it; I even called everyone I know to see if they could find one but obviously they couldn’t, so then-then I tried to make you one myself but of course, that failed miserably!” you threw your hands up in the air and laughed bitterly before picking up the disaster of a knitting-attempt you had done and waving it in your boyfriend’s face. “SEE? IT’S TERRIBLE!”

Patrick glanced at the material you held in your hand, then to your tear-stained face, and laughed.

He laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” you asked in confusion, which only made him laugh harder; this made you angry. “It’s not funny!”

“(Y/N),” he pulled you into his chest and continued giggling, “it’s just a silly sweater. You didn’t have to stress yourself out over it.”

“It wasn’t ‘just a silly sweater’,” you scoffed, pushing away, “It was my link to you while you’re away.”

“Baby, you could have all the clothes in my closet if you wanted it,” he smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear, “That sweater isn’t the only thing that smells like me, ya know.”

“Yeah, but… I know how much you loved that one,” you cast your gaze downwards.

“I did,” he nodded, “but, I mean, let’s be real here. I haven’t worn that thing for, what, almost a year now? It was basically yours,” he chuckled, “So,” he unzipped his jacket to reveal a maroon sweater, “I had to find another one. I’ve practically been living in this thing for the entirety of the tour.”

You scoffed and smiled in disbelief; Patrick beamed at you. “So, you’re not upset?”

“Not really,” he shrugged and shook his head, “And, how can I be?” he picked up your knitting, “This is way better than any sweater money could ever buy.”

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

[marmelade-sky]

Traiterous Heart (In A Heartbeat fanfic)

So, I’ve watched @inaheartbeat-film and holy shit, it’s so adorable, I pretty much melted into my chair. So, ofc, here’s some fanfic, and ofc it’s fucking long because I cannot, for the life of me, write short things. Enjoy :) part ii will be coming soon as well. 

None of the characters belong to me. Also, I made up background characters for storytelling purpose. 

read here on ao3 

prompt me! my fandom list is on my blog. 

EDIT: 

part 2 here

Sherwin’s mommy wears daddy’s heart on a necklace, and his daddy wears mommy’s heart in the pocket of his shirt every day, and Sherwin thinks this is how it’s supposed to be. 

-

Their kindergarten teacher reads them stories about a knight and a princess falling in love, their hearts jumping out of their chests and holding hands after the knight saves his princess from the evil dragon guarding her, and Sherwin listens to their teacher explains that hearts know true love. 

-

When he’s in 1st grade, his auntie gets married to her boyfriend, and Sherwin is very happy when he watches her walk down the isle, her heart jumping up and down on her shoulder while her fiancé’s heart waits anxiously next to him. When they embrace at last, Sherwin sniffles and hides his face in his mommy’s skirt. She smiles down at him and pets his hair. “One day, when you’re all grown up, and your heart has picked a nice girl for you, mommy’s gonna cry at your wedding, too.”, she tells him sweetly, and for some reason, Sherwin’s chest feels a little weird. He isn’t sure why, and as soon as he’s got ice cream at the reception, he forgets about it anyway. 

-

A new Disney movie comes out when Sherwin is in third grade, and he watches it with his best friend Mathilda. It’s about a girl cat and a boy cat who live on the streets and get into adventures and fall in love in the end. After they’ve watched it, Mathilda wants to play as the characters from the movie, and Sherwin happily obliges. However, something bugs him. 

“...Tildy?”, he asks while they’re in the process of throwing all the pillows from the couch to the floor to build a super cool kitty shelter, “...can I be the girl kitty?” 

Tildy tilts her head and considers it. “...sure!”, she says, and reaches into her hair to pull out a hair clip which has a pink butterfly on it. It looks almost exactly like the bow the cat in the movie has on her head. Tildy clips it into Sherman’s hair while he holds still. “Okay.” Tildy steps back and looks at him critically, before her face breaks into a big smile and she claps her hands. 

“Let’s play now!” She dashes off on all fours, meowing, and Sherwin follows her happily. 

When they’ve been playing for a while, Sherwin’s brother comes home with his friend in tow. “What do you have on your head, Sher?!”, Frederick asks, and Sherwin immediately feels his cheeks heat up. He covers the butterfly clip with his hand. 

“Nothing!” 

“You look like a girl!”, Fred teases him and Sherwin feels his bottom lip wobble. 

“Are you a girl, Sher? Sherwina?” Fred’s friend laughes and Sherwin wishes Tildy had never given him her hair clip. “Sherwin is a girl! Sherman is a girl!”, his brother chants now, and Sherwin turns around, hiding the tears spilling down his face. Fred is so mean! 

“Stop teasing him!”, Tildy scolds Fred with her hands on her hips, and they start to fight, because Tildy is afraid of no boy, not even when they’re 12 already. 

Eventually, mommy comes home and breaks the fight up. Tildy has to go home, and Sherwin retreats into his bedroom, avoiding mommy’s eyes. He rips the stupid butterfly clip out of his hair and stuffs it into the bottom drawer of his closet. Stupid butterfly clip. Stupid Fred. 

-

Grandma and Grandpa are visiting, and Sherwin is really happy. Grandma makes the best cookies and Grandpa can carry him around on his back all day. They’re great. 

When Tildy comes over to play, Grandma looks at her and smiles. “Oh, Sher, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend!”, she cooes playfully, and it makes Sherwin feel weird. He can see Tildy’s cheeks flush pink, too.

“She’s not my girlfriend!”, he blusters, but Grandma just smiles and nods knowingly. Tildy is weird to Sherwin afterwards, and he doesn’t know why. 

-

When Sherwin is in middle school, one girl and one boy in his class give their hearts to each other. It doesn’t happen often at their age, but sometimes, it does. Sherwin watches as all the girls crowd around the girl, squealing and giggling, while the boy gets teased by his friends. After it happens, the teacher takes them out of class, and their parents are called. It’s not a bad thing, but it’s rare, and the adults have to make sure the two of them are alright. 

“I wish my heart would choose someone for me!”, Tily sighs in math class afterwards, and Sherwin just looks at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “It’s so romantic!” She clutches her chest and sighs again. Sherwin looks at her critically. He can’t imagine giving his heart to any girl. His heart has never even made a peep, so he thinks he might be safe for some more years.

-

In the middle of 9th grade, a new boy comes to their school. Apparently, he’s transferred from some other school after his family has moved here or something. The teacher introduces him as Jonathan. He has dark, perfect hair and the bluest eyes and he smiles shyly at the class when he’s introduced. His eyes dart over them nervously, and then they meet Sherwin’s. 

Ba-dunk.

Sherwin startles so badly that he almost falls out of his chair. Tildy turns to look at him with eyes like saucers. Sherman clutches his chest and runs out of the classroom. He spends the remainder of the period in the bathroom, locked in a stall, legs tucked under and crying. His heart flutters between his lungs whenever he remembers Jonathan’s blue eyes.

-

He avoids Jonathan at all cost. And yet, he can’t stop thinking about him. 

Jonathan seems to get along with everyone just fine, even though he hasn’t really made a lot of friends yet since he always has his nose in a book. He’s smart, always knows the answers to the teachers’ questions. Whenever he speaks in class, Sherwin has to clutch his chest or cover his ears. His stupid, stupid heart is a traitor.

He wonders if his heart is broken. It’s supposed to beat for a girl like this, not a boy! Sherwin tries forcing himself to look at girls, even at Tildy. But none of them make his heart jump and warm up like Jonathan does. 

-

His aunt throws a birthday party in her backyard which they are invited to, the family, and his aunt’s friends, too. 

There is food and Sherwin gets to play with his aunt’s dog, which is nice. Fred has brought his girlfriend Natasha. Sherman thinks she’s far too nice for Fred. 

His aunt’s friends are funny. There’s a woman with pink hair, a man with tattoos up his arms and two men who Sherman can’t stop looking at for some reason. They seem weirdly... close, and they look nice, and actually really normal compared to his aunt’s other friends. One of them catches Sherman staring, and gives him a little smile. Sherwin realizes there is a heart in front of him on the table, and it happily holds hands with the other man’s. Sherwin blushes violently, and flees into the house where he hides in the kitchen. 

His aunt joins him after a while. She sits down next to him on the floor, where he’s playing with his phone, and cocks her head. 

“My friends thinks he’s accidentally startled you.”

Sherwin blushes again and quickly shakes his head. “No, it’s alright. I’m just... tired.” 

His aunt chuckles. “Do you always sit on the kitchen floor when you’re tired?”

Sherwin just shrugs. 

“...they’re gay.”, his aunt simply says after a while, “...they like each other. Their hearts chose each other.”

It sounds so simple, but suddenly, Sher’s eyes sting and he has to rub at them to make it stop.

“...it happens sometimes, you know?”, his aunt tells him, and reaches out to rub his arm gently. “...nothing wrong with it.” 

Sherwin just nods, but doesn’t look at her. 

She hugs him tightly before she goes outside again. 

-

Sherwin thinks he’s gay, and he has to tell Tildy because if he doesn’t, he might explode. 

He cries when he tells her as they sit in the tree house in Tildy’s backyard, and Tildy just listens. When he’s done talking and looks at her anxiously, she just looks back and says “Oh.”

His heart drops, and his bottom lip starts to wobble again. What if Tildy doesn’t want to be his friend anymore? What if she thinks he’s weird?

But after a moment, she leans over and hugs him, and he melts against her. 

“I’ve always wondered why you weren’t as stupid to me as the other boys.” She wipes his tears away with the sleeve of her shirt.

They spend the rest of the afternoon talking about boys and eating chocolate ice cream in the tree house. 

-

His heart is a traitor, and because it is, it gets ripped in two.

It’s the worst day of Sher’s life, he thinks so when he sits hidden behind the tree in the school yard, and cries over the half of his heart which he cradles in his hands, and the dull pain in his chest. 

Of course Jonathan doesn’t like him back, why should he? And now everyone at school knows he’s gay and not normal. 

Sherwin is missing class, but he doesn’t mind. He’ll never come out of his hiding spot, never ever again. 

When someone sits down next to him, he startles so badly that he almost drops half his heart.

It’s Jonathan, who looks down at him with an uncertain expression. Sherwin thinks Jonathan’s gonna punch him any second now for embarrassing him so badly, and tucks his shoulders up.

Instead, Jonathan sits down next to him, and inches closer. Sherwin is so surprised that he forgets to move away when Jonathan reaches out, holding the other half of his heart. 

He puts them together in Sherwin’s hands. They fit like puzzle pieces. Jonathan closes Sherwin’s fingers around the two broken halves, and they warm up in Sher’s palm. 

There’s some wiggling, and then, when Sherman opens his hands again, his heart smiles up at him excitedly. 

“Here you go.”, Jonathan says quietly, and when Sherwin looks over to him, he sees that he’s smiling. Sher’s heart, of course, swishes out of his hands and against Jonathan’s cheek. 

“OhmygodIamsosorryheartwhatareyoudoingstop!” Sherwin scrambles for his stupid heart, cheeks heating up instantly, and he topples over reaching for it and suddenly he’s on top of Jonathan and oh god. 

His heart makes the most satisfied noise when he looks down at Jonathan, horrified, and Jonathan looks up at him with wide eyes, too.

And then, suddenly...

Ba-dunk.

Sherwin can feel the movement against his own chest, and quickly sits up. Jonathan blushes furiously as his heart beats louder and louder and harder and harder and then-

Sherwin’s heart squeals happily when Jonathan’s heart joins it. 

[drawn-2-art]

Inspired by the wonderful Avian AU created by @keyade

I’m not much of a writer, sorry

Victor had been walking Makkachin past the shelter for a few days now, intending to finally commit. The people tailing him had not gone unnoticed, and he suspected it wouldn’t be too long before someone came to confirm their suspicions on his race. With a deep breath, he walked through the automatic doors, and placed the large bags of the dogs belongings on the counter. The receptionist blinked, and then smiled.

“Hello, can I help you?” She asked. Victor swallowed, and forced his own features into his usual, relaxed smile. There would be time for tears later.

“Due to unforeseen circumstances, I don’t believe I will be able to continue to care for my dog, this is Makkachin by the way.” Either because he heard his name, or wanted the biscuits inside the bag, Makkachin jumped up so his large front paws were on the counter, startling the poor receptionist. “He’s very friendly, you’ll have no problems re-homing him.”

“If you wish to donate him, it may take a few weeks to organise all the paper work...” The receptionist started, but Victor just shook his head

“I’m sorry, I’d like to preferably organise all of this today. It’s very important that this is done as quickly as possible.”

“I’m not sure that will be possible...” She started, then her eyes widened in surprise as Victor started to get out his wallet.

“I’ll compensate for the inconvenience, but it has to be today.” He began removing notes from his wallet, as well as a debit card

“Stop please!” The receptionist cried reaching out to try and put the notes back “We appreciate donations and I will try my best, but you can’t just pay for this to go quickly!”

Victor rummaged around inside the bag on the counter and pulled out a clear folder. “All his recent vet and vaccination information is here, as well as his care instructions.” He explained

“Thank you...” The receptionist said, taking the folder and flicking through. “That will certainly save time...”

 As they walked down the corridor, Victor tried to ignore the cages on either side. All of the dogs just looked so sad and lonely, most simply just lying on the floor. Makkachin was bounding along cluelessly, stopping to try and sniff his new surroundings. It was a strain to keep his smile in place now, this was starting to feel incredibly real. Leaving Makkachin in a cage like that...It was almost to awful to think about. The receptionist was slowing now, and stopped in front of one of the cages. She paused as she reached to unlock it

“If I may ask, why are you unable to care for him anymore?” She said. The man was clearly very upset about these circumstances, but money hadn’t seemed to be the issue. The dog seemed well behaved if slightly excitable. No behaviour problems except occasional food theft had been announced.

“Oh that’s...” Victor started, his smile becoming more forced “Well...I have to move and my new accommodation is not really...appropriate...For pets. It seemed better to find him a new home but I don’t have time before the move...” He looked down, meeting Makkachin’s loving brown eyes, gazing at him as though he was the most wonderful person in the world. Of course, Makkachin looked at everyone like that but the idea of never seeing that gaze again... “He’d probably like a home with children. I live alone so he never had a chance to play with them much as a puppy. Also, if they’ll let him share their bed, that would be ideal. He gets lonely at night.”

“We can’t make any guarantees...” She started, and Victor shook his head

“Just wishful thinking. He’ll settle in anywhere eventually. He’s a good dog...”Victor said, almost choking on that last line. She nodded and unlocked the door, Makkachin bounding in. Victor let go of the lead so he could properly give everything a good look. He stepped in and crouched down, not even wobbling as the 50 pound poodle charged into him. Victor buried his face in his curly head.

“I’m going to miss you.” He whispered, a few tears escaping. He had wanted to keep smiling until he got home. Makkachin’s wagging tail slowed, and he was looking with concern now instead of adoration. He let out a low whine, and licked Victor’s cheek. “I’ll think of you every day, okay boy?” Victor continued “Try not to forget me. I’m sorry.”

The hug felt as though it lasted an eternity, and yet no time at all. Eventually, Victor decided it was time to pull away. Unbuckling and removing the collar, he quickly brushed his sleeve against his cheeks and straightened himself up.

“I think that is the goodbye’s out of the way.” Victor said, his smile forced back in place. The receptionist nodded. As Victor went to leave, Makkachin began to follow.

“No, myesto.” He said firmly, not quite meeting his dogs eyes. He tried to ignore the low whine as Makkachin sat, staring at the closing door. As Victor turned to leave, the barking started. What began concerned, polite barks became scared and loud, mixed with howls as Victor walked down the corridor. He could still hear them, even once the door had shut.  His head was filled with depressed howls of his abandoned companion. The receptionist awkwardly reached as though to pat his shoulder hen thought better of it and retracted her hand.

“We’ll find him a good home, I promise” She said “He’s so handsome and well behaved; he’ll find a lovely family very quickly.”

“I know, thank you.” Victor said, and he gave her a final smile before leaving.

 The apartment was almost unbearable without Makkachin. The dog bed, toys and bowls were all gone. There was no leash hanging next to his coat, no face exited to see him. Victor didn’t have time to waste, sitting down and feeling lonely though. Looking through his wardrobe, he chose the dark grey suit usually reserved for high profile cases, and the black tie he wore for funerals. The combination wasn’t the most flattering but mourning wear seemed appropriate. His apartment was almost empty of belongings beyond the necessities as it was, so trying to decide what to pack wasn’t too difficult. Pyjamas, some more comfortable clothing, a few photos. There was no guarantee they would come for him tonight, but they would come. It had probably been foolish to pretend to be human so publically, he found himself thinking. To be in the spotlight, with such controversial opinions, they were bound to become suspicious eventually. After weeks of being tailed and observed, Victor was almost ready for it to be other. Knowing that they knew, it was suffocating waiting for them to act.

He flinched when there was a loud banging at his front door. Standing up and taking a deep breath, he picked up his small suitcase with one hand. He’d open that door with a smile...He’d be civilised. He’d show that being an Avian did not make him less human.

That was the intention, but as soon as he began to open the door, it was forcefully wrenched open and 4 men dressed entirely in black stormed in. He let out half a cry as a fist connected with his throat, and his case clattered onto the floor.  Before he had time to catch his breath, or even think about whether he should fight or flee they were forcing him onto the floor.

Victor tried to resist instinctively as his suit’s jacket was ripped from his body. There was a tearing sound as his wings erupted from his back and destroyed his shirt. This momentarily dislodged his captors but there wasn’t room in the narrow entranceway for Victor to use his wings for escape and it was not long before a collar was locked around his neck. Cuffs were fastened around his ankles and wrists. A chain was looped between the collar and wrist cuffs, then he was forcefully wrenched to his feet.

“My case...” He tried to choke out, just the chain was yanked forcing him through the front door. A few neighbours had timidly cracked open their front doors to see the source of the noise. A few had phones ready to call the police about the violent entrance. All the doors latches were quickly slid into place though when they saw the state of their neighbour. The handsome friendly lawyer, half naked and in chains. Trying not to cry with a large set of wings adorning his back.

For many of the people in the apartment building, it was their first time seeing an Avian in person. They never expected it to look quite so helpless. Despite the wings, it was nearly impossible to see the sad creature as anything other than the neighbour they had all trusted for so many years. Victor tried to smile reassuringly at a child who had shoved in front of its mother in order to pear through the cracks. The mother gasped and the door slammed shut, and the chain aggressively pulled making him almost trip.

“You can cut the act now.” One of the men guarding him mumbled “We all know what you are.”

“I’m sorry.” Victor said quietly, and bowed his head. When they finally reached the ground floor, and he was forced to climb into the back of a van, was when the tears started falling. He wasn’t Victor Nikiforov anymore, not to these people. He was simply another dangerous Avian.

    <�c_PW