#the clara and hook one got me crying

[theragethatisdesire]

"ti penso ogni giorno" - eren x reader - 18+!!!

first fic! kind of threw this together while traveling and had no beta readers, so please be nice to me. i've been spending some time in the italian countryside and got a little inspired.

pairing: reader x eren jaeger

wc: 7.5k (jesus christ)

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut (duh), consensual hook-up, unprotected sex, rough sex, vaginal fingering, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, princess), slight breeding kink (if you squint) crying, multiple orgasm, creampie, aftercare

**title means "i think about you every day" in italian :')

Standing on top of this mountain looking over unfamiliar fields, you don’t remember a time in the recent past you’ve felt so at peace, the quiet fluttering of the sparrows easing the ever-present ache in your heart.

It was a tasteful ceremony. A small church in the middle of the Chianti region, in a little town with a name you couldn’t pronounce, decorated with so many candles that the room was sweltering, even with the breeze wafting in from the hills. Mikasa and Jean’s little girl, Clara, had played the role of flower girl perfectly; you hadn’t seen her since she was a newborn, and there she was, toddling down the aisle on fat little three-year-old legs. Historia and Ymir were beautiful brides, practically unchanged over the years, still as consumed with each other as they had been in college.

Even now, you distinctly remember a drunken night when Ymir promised Historia that she would take her to Europe one day, and here she was, marrying her beloved blonde in the heart of Italy. Another memory surfaces, parallel to that one, of someone looping an arm around your waist as you watched college-Ymir make her declaration, a whisper in your ear of the same promise. You pack that up and tuck it away as soon as it surfaces, scratching at your elbow.

“What are you doing out here?” Mikasa’s voice is behind you, drawing closer. You smile down at Clara, holding her mother’s hand and wobbling out into the grass.

“Just thinking,” you sigh, swishing your wine around in its glass, “I should come back in and join the party.”

“They just finished the champagne toast, but you haven’t missed the first dance,” Mikasa agrees.

You take Clara’s other hand and reluctantly allow yourself to be led back into the thick of things, the two of you swinging the little girl between you. Her shrieks of joy make you smile in spite of yourself, calming the nerves fluttering around in your stomach. Years had passed and things had changed, you and everyone else around you included.

It was a gorgeous reception, even more beautiful than the ceremony. They’d chosen a huge stone patio outside of the massive villa they’d rented, covered by columns of stone arching up to form a roof and dripping with flowered vines. It was exactly what you would’ve chosen, so beautiful it didn’t need decoration. Simple, natural, Tuscan.

“He didn’t bring a date,” Mikasa murmurs to you as you enter the terrace, scanning the room for Jean. She didn’t need to specify who “he” was; you had seen him at the ceremony, longer hair than you remembered, two rows ahead of you. Even if you hadn’t, the sad truth was there was really only one “he” for you, and Mikasa knew that.

“What do you want me to do with that?” You respond, trying and failing to mask your discomfiture with irritation.

“Whatever you want,” Mikasa shrugs, vague as always, scooping Clara up onto her hip and striding across the tented reception to Jean. You watch her go, watch Jean take Clara and kiss Mikasa, envy and self-pity clawing at your heart.

Ymir and Historia chose a slower song than you expected; it must be Historia’s doing that they were doing a first dance at all. Ymir had made it exceptionally clear during the bachelorette trip that all of the frills were to make Historia happy, and she was mostly looking forward to the honeymoon. The memory makes you snort into your empty wine glass, until you catch a glimpse of green eyes across the room.

Eren’s suit is more expensive than anything you knew he owned, sharp at the corners and resembling something your boss’ boss would wear. Mikasa had mentioned months ago that Eren and Zeke’s business was really taking off, but you find yourself wondering if these were the clothes he wore now, or if it was a splurge. He’s staring at you, no surprise there. Breakup aside, Eren’s the most possessive person you’ve ever known, and anything that was his is always his, at least from his point of view. That was part of the problem, you reflect, tracing your red fingernail around the rim of your wine glass.

The first dance concludes and amidst the applause, waiters begin circling the room with hors d'oeuvres, little bits of smoked salmon and crudite platters. After the travel and ceremony, you’re ravenous, and you begin weaving your way through the crowd to track down a tray with carbohydrates on it.

You’re halfway through stuffing a croquette into your mouth when Armin interrupts you, chuckling. “Hungry?”

“I only flew over this morning,” you excuse yourself, dabbing at your mouth with a cocktail napkin. Armin doesn’t care, you know that, but after the last few years of cocktail hours with the most influential magazine and website owners in the world, manners are second-nature.

“At least it was a short flight. You came from…Belgium?”

“Moscow,” you shrug, “four hour flight into Milan, two hour train, hour long car service.”

“Car service?” Armin cocks an eyebrow. “Haven’t you gotten fancy over the years?”

You blush, embarrassed. “Did you fly from the states?”

“Shanghai, actually.” Armin’s face shows it, still puffy from the flight. “I don’t even know how many hours, just that it was long.”

“I’ve made that flight,” you say, empathizing, “not a fun one.”

“I was able to throw some miles from my company card into it and get first class, though, it was the nicest-”

“Can I join you two?” Your heart drops. You knew he was watching you, he’s always watching you, but to be so bold as to interrupt a conversation, speak to you here? Now?

“Sure, Eren,” Armin steps to the side to make room for Eren at the high-top table you’ve found yourselves gathering around, “we were just catching up on our flights over.”

Eren nods, masterfully collected as he smiles politely at you. “I actually had business over here, so I left New York maybe…a week ago, now? It wasn’t bad at all, our company card covers first-class flights.”

Some strange mix of annoyance and being impressed swells in your throat. You take a swig of wine to swallow it, not trusting yourself to resist throwing out a snarky comment or alternatively inquiring about where this first-class-covering business card came from. You don’t owe him the satisfaction. Armin nods politely, but you can see the tension in his smile. The history between Eren and you could stretch for miles of scorched earth, and it’s no secret. You imagine that earth, black and smoking, half-finished houses with white picket fences smoldering down to their foundations.

“So,” Eren breaks the silence, turning to you, “where did you come in from?”

“Moscow.” One-word answers, minimal detail, you assure yourself in your head. He won’t get his claws in you this time if you don’t let him.

“Moscow is beautiful,” Eren sips the bourbon that you had considered throwing in his face when he approached, “but a little cold this time of year, isn’t it?”

“It was very nice, actually,” you can’t help disagreeing for the sake of it, “I was only in town for a few days covering a story, anyway.” Shit. You’ve betrayed yourself already and revealed a detail. Eren’s smile curls up over his cheeks like a cat that’s found a trapped mouse. You kick yourself inwardly.

“Hear that, Armin? Our little bookworm is still writing.”

You roll your eyes at the old nickname from college, earned by your constant pleas to stay in for a comfy night instead of a frat party. You had read over 350 books in college, breaking your four-year goal by at least fifty. Eren used to beg you to tell him the stories you read before bed like a child, because he couldn’t be bothered to read the actual book and it sounds so much more interesting when you read it, baby. And up until the last three years, you had obliged him. Now, the only person you read to sleep is yourself.

“I made a career out of it,” you snip, “so yes, still writing.”

“Clara’s getting into the wedding cake- I don’t see Mikasa, shit, one sec-” Armin’s sentence is cut short by the speed with which he darts away from the pair of you, running off towards a table on the other side of the room. You don’t necessarily blame him, but you seethe anyway, vowing to repay him for abandoning you.

“Career, hm?” Eren hums pleasantly. “Work’s going well, then?”

You snatch a second glass of wine off of a passing tray, wanting more than anything to walk away from him, but you both know your feet won’t move. Getting a nice buzz going is your only option, at this point. You take a healthy swig, shrugging. “I enjoy it, and it pays.” 

“That’s a beautiful dress,” Eren murmurs, quiet and thoughtful. You blush and frown all at once.

“Says the one wearing a $6,000 suit.”

“Is it?” Eren fingers his lapel. He looks amused, and you want to smack the faux-bashfulness right off of his face. “I honestly didn’t know.”

“Your work must be going exceedingly well, then,” you glare, seeing right through him. The facade falters for just a moment, a critical moment: Eren almost looks sad.

“The business took off about a year ago,” he’s not looking at you, focusing on something in the distance, “so I’m traveling almost constantly now. I hardly see Zeke, my only company is usually just my assistant or a flight attendant. I love visiting a new city every week, but it’s…”

“Lonely?” You finish for him before you can stop yourself. He nods, looking surprised.

“Your work keeps you on the go now, too?”

“I switched over to a rolling travel schedule two years ago, when Rolling Stone started their global music column. It ended up being super popular and I’m the lead journalist, so I’m basically running all over the world listening to the weirdest music you can imagine. They had me head over to Berlin one time to cover the ‘rising alien punk scene’; it was…really something.” You pull a funny face at the memory, Eren laughs, a deep, real laugh from the belly. You can hear yourself rambling, revealing, but you can’t stop. It’s so natural that the realization of falling back into yourself, the self that loved Eren, is making your skin crawl. You should walk away, look for an out-

“Have you explored the grounds at all?”

Eren’s question snaps you out of your moment of clarity, back into his magnetic field. “The grounds?”

“This house,” Eren gestures to the villa that Ymir and Historia have rented for their closest friends, “sits on over a thousand acres of vineyard. The best wine in the world.”

“I can tell,” you examine the legs on your glass of red, provided by the vineyard itself, “it’s not my usual French, but it’s incredible.”

“Snob,” Eren grins at you. You have always been a picky wine drinker, Eren used to joke that you could pass a sommelier test without even taking the course. “So, the grounds?”

He offers you an elbow. You look at it, weighing but not really weighing your options, and slip your arm through his, feeling the rapid thudding of your pulse. You’re fairly sure if anyone looked closely at your neck, they’d see the frantic heartbeat insistently pushing right under your skin. You tell yourself it will only be a short walk, just a few minutes, because you do want to see the grounds, even if it’s with the last person you should be spending any time with. You hope that you’ll be able to sneak out without catching Mikasa’s eye.

Eren tugs you along, prattling on about the history of the vineyard, entirely unaware that you’re not listening. This Eren is so different from the Eren you left in New York, but still similar, still feels like home. His nose and jaw have only grown stronger with age, but his eyes still have a youthful glimmer, even if they seem sharper and more intense than you’ve ever seen them. It’s unlikely that he’s physically grown even taller between 23 and 26, but his presence makes him seem like the tallest man in the room. He’s self assured, confident, and in charge, in a manlier, more mature way that you’ve never seen before. A heat simmers in your stomach as you admire the curve of his strong neck, and you want to swat your own hand, tell yourself to settle down. It’s just a walk.

“I think I could die happy here,” Eren says, looking over the view you’ve approached, about a half mile from the rest of the party now. You chuckle.

“A beautiful view and some good wine is all it takes?”

“That’s most of it, these days,” Eren shrugs, “but I do need cable. And-”

“A television, a gym, at least one case of shitty domestic beer in the house at all times,” you count off on your fingers.

“For starters,” Eren concedes with a shy grin. “And a wife.”

Those last two words cause your heart to stop altogether. You look around, realizing just how far you are from the villa, how alone you are with him. The sun is setting reluctantly around you both, sinking slowly, holding onto the landscape with an iron grip.

“That would be nice,” you stammer, “f-for you, definitely.”

“Want to explore this building over here?” As if nothing out of the ordinary happened, Eren points out a smaller home down the hill from you both. “It’s really cool inside.”

You trudge along beside him, having kicked off your heels and left them at the reception long ago, and a fresh wave of anger kicks up in your chest. It was just so quintessentially Eren; drop a bomb, and then act like nothing happened. It reminds you that there are aspects of Eren you can’t stand, and that reminder instills you with the confidence to seclude yourself with him in the charming little stone house.

It is really cool. No window panes in the entire bottom floor, just the fresh vineyard air rolling in. There’s a little kitchenette, some various odds and ends of sofas and chairs sprawling across the clay-bricked floors. A huge table, clearly made for workers’ lunch breaks over the centuries, squats in the middle of the bottom floor, and racks of wine cover the walls. You break away from him to pick up a bottle or two, examine the label, brush off some dust.

Eren grants you a few moments to yourself before you sense him behind you, closer than you want to consider.

“Anything good?” He says, peering right over your shoulder from the sound of it.

You turn around before you can regret it, chest to chest with him. He’s hunching his head to make the best eye contact with you he can, the way he’s always done. You focus on breathing normally, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how his proximity still affects you after all these years. “A ‘92 vintage Chianti. They actually talked about this wine in my sommelier course; I didn’t even realize this was the same vineyard.”

“You took the course?” Eren smiles crookedly, an endearing grin that you’ve always loved. You smile despite yourself.

“Yeah,” you admit quietly, “I took the course.”

Eren grins wider, and thankfully leaves you there, striding across the room to shuffle through the kitchen drawers. When he returns, he’s holding a wine key and two glasses. You cock your head, confused.

“It’s supposed to be the best, huh? Crack it open.”

“Eren…” you trail off, holding the bottle gingerly, “this bottle has to be over a thousand dollars. We can’t do it.”

“Did I forget to mention this is my bunk for the trip?” He smiles again, his prominent canines glinting in the sunset light streaming in, gesturing around the room grandly; your knees nearly buckle at the sight. “Bedroom’s upstairs. Ymir and Historia said any of the wine’s up for grabs. It’s the owners’ fault if they left the good stuff out for us to get into, and it’s on my tab anyway.”

You’re nearly speechless, not only that Eren got an entire house to himself (he’s always been the spoiled brat of the friend group), but that he tricked you into coming here, with him. When you fail to respond, he takes it simply as more reluctance to open the bottle, and he grabs the bottle from you and starts to dig the corkscrew in through the top.

You let a few beats pass, considering your options as he pours the wine. When he finally hands you the glass, you give voice to your thoughts, testing the waters. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Because you love wine and the house is cool,” Eren shrugs innocently, taking a sip, “damn, that’s good. Try it.”

You hold your glass stock-still in your hands. “We’re done with…what we used to do, you know. That’s not what’s going on here.”

The air sparkles with dust; Eren’s demeanor stutters, a small frown working its way onto his face. “Just try the wine, babe.”

Your heart flutters, your stomach sinks, your memories with Eren shriek from the back of your mind. The pet name is too familiar, too easy, and it brings a cold chill over you. As you’re prone to do, your panic comes shooting out coated in snark.“Babe? Yeah, no, I’m done-”

“Sorry, sorry– it was a mistake, force of habit,” Eren’s already apologizing as you’re talking; you hate how he can still anticipate your reaction before you can give it. He grabs your wrist as you turn to leave, rolling his eyes, “a mistake. Try your wine, you don’t know when you’re going to stumble across that again.”

You let him hold your wrist, enjoying the pressure of his strong hands into the delicate flesh of your arm despite yourself. You look between him, the wine, the room several times, as if you’re weighing your decision. You know what you’re going to choose, but maybe you can pretend that he doesn’t know, too. Eren’s willing to play along, eyes wide and pleading.

Without breaking your gaze, you carefully taste the wine. Damn him, it is good. It has a complexity of flavor and a depth to it that’s incredibly rare, even in the French countryside wines you tend to favor. Even though you fight it, you smile at him and offer your glass for him to pour more.

The bottle passes quickly, both of you settling yourselves in chairs at the kitchen table, discussing old friends, new friends, reminiscing on the college years when you were both a little happier and a little less sane. You hardly notice the sun setting further, the smallest bits of twilight leaking into the corners of the sky.

“Your teeth are so red,” you giggle, head spinning. The wine was delicious, delicious enough for Eren to pop open a second bottle, but God, was it strong. You aren’t sure how you’ll manage the walk back up to the reception- is the reception even still going on?

“So are yours,” Eren pinches your cheek, giggling drunkenly along with you.

“God, you’re right.” You place a finger onto your teeth, rubbing frantically at the wine stains to no avail. Eren reaches a wobbling hand out to pull your fingers out of your mouth, shaking his head. He frowns and shakes his head, childlike.

“Don’t take them off.”

“The wine stains?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? They make teeth look dirty,” you laugh again, trying to shove your finger back into your mouth where Eren’s holding it.

“I…okay, maybe it’s weird, but I always thought it was kind of sexy when your teeth were all red from wine,” Eren blushes, and it’s so childishly endearing that you can feel your heart swell.

“Really?”

“I never told you that?” Eren looks astonished, chuckling under his breath. “It drove me crazy back when we were together. You’d go to Historia’s, or Sasha’s, or whoever’s and down a bottle or two of red and come stumbling back into that crappy apartment in Harlem-”

“-the one with the mean bodega lady outside!”

“Yes!” Eren snaps his fingers, pointing at you excitedly. “Anyway, you’d come waddling back in, hair a mess and wine all over your teeth, your lips would be bright purple, and you’d always be so horny-”

“Eren!”

“It’s true! You’d ride me for an hour before you knocked out.” Eren sipped his wine, smiling in a private way that you felt was just for you.

“An hour seems like a bit of a stretch,” you murmur, looking down into your glass. You’ve almost finished your wine and you shouldn’t have any more, the reception is waiting for you and you’ve been gone with Eren long enough that you’ve been missed at this point. When you pull your head up, Eren looks different. It’s a familiar face on a new man: his eyes have a mischievous glimmer in them, the sunset winking at you through his green irises.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips; your mind wanders to that tongue, those lips. Mentally, you dance over what you know those lips and tongue can do, how they feel on your mouth, your neck, between your legs. Your wine-addled mind tries to shake the persistent thought. Eren reaches a hand over to your mouth, absentmindedly rubbing a thumb over the corner of your lips.

“Still think it looks sexy,” he mumbles, half-drunk and half expecting a stern reprimand from you. His eyes search your face, curious of your reaction. It’s the moment you’ve been running around the world from for the last three years, finally coming to fruition here in this little house. 

You embarrass and surprise yourself simultaneously: tears well in your eyes. You want him; you’re drunk and beautiful and desperate for him in the beautiful countryside of Italy, but he’s so bad for you. They’re tears that have been waiting behind your eyes, tears of frustration and desire.

“Why are you crying?” Eren asks, furrowing his brow. You know he knows, he understands you and your emotions better than anyone. You’re angry with him, angry that he knows the source of your tears before you open your mouth.

“We’re done, Eren,” you fail miserably to steel your voice, “we can’t do this anymore, remember? It’s not good for us.”

“It’s been three years, baby,” Eren responds, still rubbing his thumb over your lips, “three years of growing. We’re different now– I’m different.”

“No,” you sniffle, feeling like a child. Whether he’s changed or not is still up for debate, but your sore heart can only take so much. He’s so beautiful, soaked in sun and wine and temptation, simpering at you. Your resolve is weakening by the second.

“Yes,” Eren insists, “it’s me. You belong to me, you know you do.”

“Eren–”

“You always do this, always try to run from me, but I’ll always find you,” he murmurs, “I’ll go to every corner of the earth if I need to. I’ll always find you because you’re mine.”

You’d love to say that he leaned in, he grabbed your face and pulled you to him, but you’d be lying. It’s you who leans forward ever so slightly, catching your chapped lips in his and kissing him tentatively. You wouldn’t be lying if you told anyone that he sighed into your mouth, ready to feel your body under his hands again. You wouldn’t be lying in the slightest.

Eren allows you a few tentative kisses, a few pecks against his lips, familiar and new all the same. Once you’ve had your fill of shyness, your obligatory ruse of unassuredness, he reaches for you, scooping you into his lap. You straddle him, whimpering at the friction of his already-growing bulge against your clothed cunt. He has to push your dress up to allow you room to spread your legs over him; you’re wearing a slinky little silk number, a gorgeous deep brown against your tanned skin, but not cooperative for lap-sitting.

Eren’s tongue is practically down your throat, teeth nipping at your bottom lip when you have to pull away for air, hands roaming your now-bare thighs.

“This dress,” he pants between kisses, “is so fucking perfect on you. Look so good for me.”

You sigh into his mouth, running your hands through his hair. Off to the side of your mind, you realize you may have knocked his hair out of its bun, but the dark locks feel so soft in your fingers, you can’t bring yourself to apologize for it. He’s wrapping his hands around your ass; Eren always loved your full hips, and it seems that that fact hasn’t changed.

Your hands find their way to his neck, his shoulders, his chest. He’s grown stronger over the years, definitive muscles rippling under your fingers, but the broadness he’s always possessed is still there. He’s large compared to you, twice as wide and at least a head taller, and you loathe to admit it, but it turns you on. You love the way he manhandles you, the way he pushes and pulls you exactly how he wants you, the way he grabs your hips hard enough to bruise, rocking them against his own.

A particularly well-placed thrust of his hips against yours elicits a wanton groan from you, spilling into his mouth. Eren moans back, moving away from your lips to mouth his way down your throat.

“Gonna sit you up now, okay?”

He stands, knocking the chairs aside on his way up, to set you on the table, the perfect height for him to grope at you, pull your dress this way and that.

“Wanna get this thing off, will you let me?”

You hesitate, or try to, at least. His hands are dizzying, flying all over your body and squeezing at just the right spots as he nibbles on your earlobe. “But, the reception–”

“Sh, sh, sh. We’re so far away, baby, they’ll never even know, yeah?” Eren goads you and you’re putty in his hands, the rapidly-shrinking rational part of your brain growing quieter with each kiss, each pet. He manages to wrench your dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but a stringy pair of panties. Eren steps back to look over you; you resist the urge to cover yourself. You know his routine.

“Fuck,” Eren breathes, palming your tits, “you’re perfect, do you know that? So beautiful just for me, aren’t you?”

You flush pink from your chest to your forehead. Even after years of love and war and running, his bedroom talk still gets to you. Eren loves to tell you what he thinks of you, and you’ve never managed to grow accustomed to hearing it.

“Say it.”

“Hm?” You hum, preoccupied with his mouth pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses around your breasts, even pausing to suck a bruise into the side of your left.

“Say you’re beautiful, tell me how pretty you are for me.”

This part is new; Eren has always loved to talk to you in bed, but your participation in the dirty talk has been minimal until now. Your blush grows even deeper. “I’m beautiful, beautiful just for you.”

“Good girl,” Eren purrs, allowing you to pull his head closer to your chest. His tongue swirls around one nipple. He closes his lips around it, sucking hard, and you moan openly, pulling him closer. Eren grins, letting his teeth pinch down on it. “You still like when I play with your tits, hm?”

“Yes,” you hiss, too caught up in pleasure to address his smugness.

“Know you baby, know you inside and out. These tits are mine,” a hand wanders down to your cunt, swiping across your panties and feeling the wetness that soaks them, “and this pussy’s mine too. You might not love me anymore, but your body– oh, she loves me.”

You have no way to respond to that, no way to address what those words do to your brain. Chagrin as you might be to admit it, he’s right. Eren was your first and only adult relationship, fucking your body into submission for years and training it, training your cunt to respond to him and the way he liked to touch you. He’s pushed and prodded you into his perfect little fuckdoll, and you let him and you loved it. You loved every second of it, and god does it feel good rushing back to you now, finally under his hands again after years without.

Eren nudges your panties to the side, rubbing quick circles over your clit, just the way you like it. A long, heady whine leaks from your lips, your hips urgently roll towards him.

“Missed me? Is that it?” Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smug grin on his lips. Eren loves when you’re needy for him.

“Mhm,” you indulge him in the hopes you’ll get what you want, and you’re right. A long finger sinks into you, instantly curling to press into the spongy spot within your walls that has you swooning, clutching desperately onto his shoulders.

“That’s it, feels good doesn’t it?”

You pull at his suit jacket, fumbling with the buttons on his collared shirt. “Want it off, want to see you.”

Eren relents, pulling his hand from you to step back and strip his shirt and jacket. He is as muscular as he feels; you drag your eyes over his strong chest, his defined abs, and the deep V leading down below his belt. You briefly remember all of your post-college friends, girls that had never known Eren, teasing you that he was your hottest ex. You had blushed, but you understand. He’s like a Greek statue, glistening with sweat from the evening heat, every crevice of him on display just for you. It sends a fresh wave of heat pulsing through your body, and you pull him back to you, relishing in the feel of his hands on you.

“Want me to make you cum, is that it?” Eren’s amused, sinking two fingers into your heat. You croon, nodding desperately. He chuckles, moving his fingers against the spot inside of you. “I’ve got you, don’t worry baby. Gonna make you feel good.”

You nod again into his shoulder, attached to him wherever you can find the space, grasping his body and pulling it to yours. You wish you had the capacity to be ashamed of your need, laid bare for him to see, but you don’t. All you can think about is his fingers moving in you, gaining speed and bringing you closer to an embarrassingly fast orgasm.

He slides a third in, just to be safe, and you’re so wet that your pussy accepts it willingly. The stretch makes you pout, push at his chest. “Too much, Eren–”

“Gotta get you ready for me,” he huffs, his arousal getting the better of him, “get you ready to get fucked. Cunt’s tight after all these years, isn’t it? Gotta work it open.”

That does a lot to your hazy brain; you bite deep into his shoulder, moans coming faster and louder as he works his fingers in you. The bubble is building in the pit of your stomach, your hips are canting towards him.

“Eren, Eren I–”

“I know, I know,” he coos, fingers curling inside you even faster, “my girl needs to cum, doesn’t she? You want to cum all over my fingers, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you cry into his skin, biting and moaning alternatively. Your head’s spinning; you can’t remember the last time you felt this good. You’re no nun, not by any means, but Eren knows your body, crafted it to respond to him, to his hands and mouth and cock, and your body is rejoicing at the feel of him on and in you again. You can’t hold it, you know you can’t, you’re moments away now. “Eren, I’m going to cum, I’m gonna–”

“Do it, baby,” he growls into your ear, his fingers working even faster, thumb moving up to swipe at your clit, “give it to me, want to hear you cum.”

Your body convulses and you’re cumming hard, with Eren the first one of the night always goes that way. Eren knows it, pulls you close against him and works his fingers in you, helping you ride it out. He’s practically purring into your ear, telling you what a good girl you are, cumming all over his fingers like that, and you eat it up. You cry into his flesh where it’s secured between your teeth, rocking your hips into his hand desperately.

Your orgasm begins to fade, and you find the presence of mind to shove at his fingers, begging for a reprieve. “Give me your cock, want it in my mouth.”

“Is that what you need?” Eren’s already helping you onto your knees, gentle, but needy. “Need my cock in your mouth?”

“Please,” you say eagerly, adjusting your knees to a comfortable position on the dirt floor, easily unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down his legs. He steps out of his shoes, kicking his pants off, strong thighs twitching under your nails as you softly scratch down them. A groan rumbles in Eren’s chest at your enthusiasm, he places a hand on your head, running through your curls.

“Can’t be for too long, ‘kay?” Eren pants, hissing when you press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock. “Still gotta fuck you, feel you cum on me.”

You hum your approval, popping him fully into your mouth with a satisfied moan. You’ve always loved taking him in your mouth, the comforting weight of him on your tongue. You’re getting impossibly wetter, feeling the heat gather between your legs as you bob your head up and down on him, listening to his satisfied little grunts and groans above you.

Eren rubs a hand over your cheek, mutters his approval, thrusts his hips forwards unwittingly a few times. You gag when he does, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You’ve taken him like this so many times, even with his impressive size, you love the feel of him pressing back into your throat until you choke.

“Fuck, fuck, baby it’s– it’s too much,” Eren indulges in a few more thrusts into your throat before grabbing your hair and urging you off of him, “need your pussy, okay?”

You’re not going to argue with that, letting him pull you to your feet, an anticipatory smile cracking across your face. You’re drunk on the wine and sex and him, babbling nonsensically. “Wanna feel you, Eren, need you.”

“I’ve got you, gonna make you feel so good, princess.” Impressively, Eren scoops you off of the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist. He walks you both over to the wall, pressing you up against it. “Gonna make you mine all over again, yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

It’s a loaded question, but you’re so captivated by him, all you can do is murmur your agreement, tell him you want to be his because at least for now, you do. Eren’s magnetic, the man you run from so you don’t get lost in him, but tonight, you’re willing to drown. You’re begging for it.

The stone wall is rough against your bare back, but the head of Eren’s cock rubbing through your folds distracts you, a promise of what’s to come.

“Please, please put it in, Eren, I need–”

“My girl needs to be full, doesn’t she?” Eren’s smirking at you, slipping the tip of his cock in. Even the stretch of that alone is enough to make you moan, digging your nails into his back. “There you go, gonna fill you up, make you all better.”

You nod into his shoulder, the weight of your actions catching up to you as he presses himself into you, fills you entirely. Eren’s your kryptonite, he’s a drug, he’s an overwhelming presence, you can’t think straight around him. Before coming to this wedding, you told yourself you’d stay away, but you can’t help it. Everything about him is like he’s sculpted just for you, your body yields to him so easily you think you might be made just for him too. His skin, salty and sweaty from the summer air, is delicious under your tongue.

He’s moving now, fucking up into you desperately, like he loves you and like he wants to break you. You jolt in his arms, helpless to do anything but take and take and take everything he has to give you.

He smiles against your open mouth, placing a sloppy kiss over it. “Does that feel good?”

“Feels so fucking good,” you whimper, letting him manhandle you. Eren’s always rough with you, always riding the line of too much, and you love taking it. You love letting him push you to your limits.

“Missed my cock in you, didn’t you? This cunt was made for me,” Eren huffs, “made just for me. Mine, isn’t it?”

You don’t indulge him with an answer, loathe to admit that your cunt is made for him, but you feel yourself clench down around him, more of your wetness soaking his lower stomach. Eren chokes out some mix of a moan and a breathless laugh, fucking up into you harder. “What a perfect answer, baby. You love it, I know you do.”

“I love it,” you agree, simpering against him as your willpower fizzles out to nothing. You’re reluctant to believe it, but there’s another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. Your body responds to him in a way it responds to no one else, clinging to him and growing wet for him and tightening around him.

Eren’s digging his hands into your hips, moving you up and down on his cock more so than actually thrusting. He’s panting against your ear, hot and heavy and in tune with your own gasps. He nudges his mouth down to plant sloppy kisses around your shoulder, just at the crook of your neck in the sensitive spot that he knows you love, remembers even after all these years. 

“Been too fucking long, baby,” Eren says, “gonna cum soon.”

You nod into his neck, cunt tightening around him at the prospect of his cum inside you. Just the thought of it sends your mind into orbit; a little fantasy forms in your hazy head of him fucking you like this every night, like he used to, a child with your curls and deep, green eyes-

“Gonna let me cum in this perfect cunt, aren’t you?”

As usual, Eren’s right in line with you– the synchronicity makes you moan again. “Please, please–”

“Gotta cum with me, alright? You can do that for me, can’t you?” You can, you will, but you’re so close to the edge when you try to respond your words are jumbled together. Even so close to his own release, Eren snickers at you. “My sweet girl’s all fucked out, can’t even talk.”

“Need your cum,” you manage, “please, Eren, m’close.”

Years ago, through strenuous games of overstimulation and denial, Eren trained your body to wait for him, you can’t cum unless he does and you know it. Your only option is to beg, hot shame warming your face. Eren remembers, just like you do, it makes him grin, feral and dangerous in the early evening light.

“Need my cum, baby? Needy, so needy, so beautiful,” he’s starting to slur, you know he’ll finish soon, “gonna cum in this perfect cunt of yours, never let you keep it from me again. Maybe I’ll knock you up, hm? Can’t run from me with my baby in you.”

Your watery eyes fly open at that, the logical part of your brain long-quieted, and you moan loud for him again, just the way he likes. Eren’s thrusts have grown sloppy, he’s grabbing you so hard now you know you’ll be left with Eren-shaped bruises on your hips.

Eren finally cums in you with your name on his lips, long and deep, keeping his cock fully seated inside you. It triggers your orgasm, a toe-curling wave of pleasure coursing through your body, straining your sore muscles. Eren’s mouth is pressed against yours and all you can manage is a whimper, feeling his cum warm your pussy, leak out around from where you’re both still joined together.

All the energy’s been pulled from your body now; you slump against his shoulder and whine when he slides out of you. Eren places you gently on the floor, presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before leading you upstairs on shaking legs. It smells like Eren up here, the pricey cologne he favors and the scent of well-loved sweatshirts intoxicating you. There are no words between the two of you as he leads you to the bathroom, helping you sit on the toilet seat as Eren rummages around for a washcloth to clean you.

“We need to go back to the reception,” you say weakly, wincing as Eren rubs the cloth over your cunt.

“What do you think?”

You frown, confused. “About?”

“Us, again,” he’s avoiding your eyes, focusing on his work between your legs. You’re not surprised he waited until you were disarmed to ask, brain still muddled and dizzy.

“Eren–”

“I am different now,” he finally meets your eyes, gaze alight with the burning, too-hot-to-touch love you know so well, the only love Eren knows how to offer, “got a therapist like you were always asking me to. I meditate every day. I’ll be so good to you, you know how good I am.”

He is good to you, you remember it well, your own tendency to flee was what broke you up in the first place. You’d left his heart shattered on the sidewalk of your apartment back in New York City, overwhelmed with commitment and unwilling to give his flaws the same grace he gave yours. You’re opposites: he’s hot where you’re cool, angry where you’re distant, argumentative where you’re cold. You sigh, head feeling heavy on your shoulders.

“Do you know what you’re asking of me? What about the lives we have now?”

“We’d make it work, line our schedules up together” the corner of his mouth curls, you want to kiss him again, “we’re always able to figure something out.”

You hate yourself for it, you want to run from him, get a car to the airport right now. You also want to pull him into your arms, feel his heartbeat against yours, kiss that hesitant smile on his face and never stop. “I…can I sleep on it?”

Eren’s face lights up, a kid on Christmas morning. He’s always been so expressive in these quiet moments; unreadable in a crowded room, but when it’s just you and him, his heart’s always been on his sleeve. He can’t help it. “Yeah, just sleep on it.”

You get yourself as put-together as you can, wipe the mascara from under your eyes, slip the dress back over your shoulders and concede one more kiss to Eren. It’s slow, long and languid, tongues slipping over one another, the desperation now cooled into a sense of homecoming. 

You hold hands as you climb the hill back to the reception. Your knees wobble, and it makes Eren laugh, makes you blush. He’s still going on about the villa’s history, and you’re half-listening, admiring the stars above you both. The reception is still going on, albeit a bit more subdued than earlier. Some guests have trickled out, finding their beds, but your friends are still seated around a table, drunk and laughing.

Connie’s the worst, of course, leaning on Jean and regaling everyone with a tale about their Midwestern childhood together; Mikasa’s buried under Clara, who’s sleeping soundly in her lap; Ymir and Historia are alternating between listening and kissing one another; Sasha’s struggling with a corkscrew and a tricky wine bottle, Armin attempting to help her.

Your face warms as all eyes turn to you, rumpled and suspicious and late. Mikasa raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her face.

“Where have you two been? You missed the garter toss,” Ymir nudges Historia conspiratorially.

“Just touring the grounds,” Eren answers coolly, pulling the empty chair beside Mikasa and offering it to you. You sit, grateful to be off of your shaking legs.

“It’s so beautiful here, thanks for putting us all up…” you accept the glass of wine Armin is offering over your shoulder, tipping it in the happy couples’ direction. Historia murmurs a quiet ‘you’re welcome’, the entire table exchanging knowing glances. You scowl, being left out of a joke is one of your pet peeves. “What?”

Jean grins lewdly. “Nothing, just…I don’t think Eren’s room is as far from the main house as you two think it is.”

[ihatemyselfbuttheatrekidsloveme]

You Love Who You Love (Clyde Barrow x fem!OC) 18+

Summary - Clara goes home after visiting Clyde and her mother confronts her. After that she finally decides to follow Clyde’s plan.

Warnings - swearing, nicknames, mentions of violence, mentions of guns.

Word count - 888

pt.5

—————— 💥 ——————

"Let me go!" She said as the cop dragged her. He dragged her away and they walked past Ted, she looked at him and grabbed her jacket as the cop pushed her out of the door.

She got into her car and drove home, the drive was silent, the only sounds being the engine and passing cars. Eventually she arrived home and her mother was sitting on the sofa, reading a book by the crackling fire.

"Hey mama." She said as she hung her coat onto the hook.

"Clara." Her mother said in a slightly cold tone.

Clara looked at her mother confused. "Carl said he can only keep me on another week, there aren't enou-."

"Maureen said she saw you driving up to Eagle Rock, what'd you go there for?" Her mother interrupted her.

"That wasn't me, she must be mistaken."

"No, she was certain it was you. Stop lying to me! What are you hiding that's so bad you can't tell your own mother?"

Clara stammered a bit and started fidgeting with her fingers before blurting out. "I'm in love mama!"

"How'd you meet a boy who lives in Eagle Rock?"

"He doesn't live there, he's just um, staying there for a short time..."

"But there ain't nothing there but the penitent- Clara Odell! You are flirting with a convict?!"

"I'm not flirting! I love him!"

"Who? Who is it you love?"

"Clyde Barrow."

She stood up and looked at Clara. "That boy who stayed here? That boy who was going to get a job?"

Clara nodded and her mother looked her dead in the eye.

"You don't even know him!"

"I do know him mama! I know everything about him! You don't know him!" She said and her mother scoffed. "I love him!"

"You don't know the first thing about love!"

"You always said you and daddy was love at first sight."

"Don't you ever compare, your daddy, a good man to a convict! Your daddy was a man of God! He made a good living, he was a good father and husband and took care of us until the day he died!" Her mother looked at her.

"I'm sor-,"

"I'm goin' to bed, I'll see you in the morning." She said and walked away. Clara stood in the living room, tears welling in her eyes before she kicked the coffee table.

She sat on the sofa, her head in her hands as the tears silently fell. Once she had stopped crying, she grabbed her notebook and a pencil, starting to write whatever came to mind. She always wrote poetry when she was sad, it was when she felt she needed it most.

She closed the notebook and walked up the hall to her bedroom, closing the door and sitting on the bed, taking off her shoes and stockings before slipping into her night dress.

Once she was in bed, she lay awake, thinking about Clyde and what he had asked of her. His voice rang in her head.

"I hid a gun under the porch of the gas station."

When Clara woke up she put on her dress and walked out to the kitchen where her mother was making breakfast.

" 'Morning mama." She said, putting on her shoes.

"Morning Clara." Elizabeth said, not turning around. "You stayin' for breakfast this morning?"

"No, I'm gonna go visit Clyde." She said.

"Fine." Elizabeth said and turned around. "Drive safely."

Clara nodded and grabbed her coat, putting it on before driving to the gas station, Clyde's parents owned it and were inside. Clara took the gun and hid it in her coat as Clyde's mother walked outside. "Here's some things for Clyde, a Bible, and some shoes." She said and handed Clara the paper bag.

"Thanks." Clara smiled and took the bag.

"I don't know what Clyde would do without you. You're the one ray of sunshine in his life."

Clara smiled and walked back to her car, putting the gun in the bag and driving to the jail.

When she got to the jail, she quickly put the gun in her dress and put her coat in the back seat. She walked inside with the bag and was stopped.

"Stop." The guard said. "Gimme the bag."

Clara handed him the bag and he dumped out the contents. She went to walk forward but he stopped her again. "I need to search you." He said, getting too close, his breath on her face. His baton spread her legs and she stuck her arms out.

He ran his hands over her body.

"You havin' yourself a good time there?" Clara asked. THe guard grunted and ran his hands up her legs.

"What's this?" He asked, his hand on her leg.

"My mama doesn't like me smoking."

"Five minutes." He said and let her go to Clyde's cell.

She rushed over and Clyde stood up, his face was more cut and bruised. "You're here, sugar."

"Of course I'm here."

"Did you bring the-?"

"Yeah, yeah I did." She said and reached into her dress, slipping it into his hand. He kissed her and leaned his head against hers.

"Meet at our spot." Clyde whispered.

"Of course." Clara nodded and saw the guard start walking over. "Bye, baby."

"See you soon, sugar." He kissed her once more before she left.

[amedamnee-m]

1983

⏤𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴: Years after missing her senior prom, Clara gets a second chance when her best friend organizes a retro-themed celebration. As old feelings resurface, she reunites with her high school crush, Adam, for the night she never had—but always dreamed of.

⏤𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: Romance, Short Story

⏤𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 985 words

⏤𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: N/A, this is a clean short story

************************************************************************

A single sparkle of a runaway glitter speck disappears under the engine red of my lipstick. I give my lips a few more audible pops in the rearview mirror. My forehead, down to the high of my cheekbones, shimmer as if it were contour against the rounded pink blush of the apples of my cheeks. Clashing it is, with the bold, bright green eyeliner and thick black false lashes.

“Should I tease my bangs some more?”

“No, hunnie, it’s already going to take a week to wash out those three cans of hairspray.” Malik pops a bubble with his chewing gum between his own, black-painted lips. “I’ve got your hair as voluminous as it’s going to get.”

I give my crimped hair one more glance over in its high-side ponytail before nodding, “Okay, let’s go.”

Getting out of the car, I run my sweaty hands down the black velvet of the bodice of my dress. I give my off-shoulder, deep green puffed sleeves a quick fluffing. I couldn’t help but admire the black lace that trimmed them, matching the high-low hemmed skirt. The perfect dress, even back then it would have been. 

“You nervous?” Malik raises a brow.

“No,” I say, blowing out a puff of air. “I’m just bubbling over with excitement.” I clasp my lace-gloved hands.

Malik’s eyes softened, taking my laced hands in his. “Remember, this is just another firm celebration, not your actual senior prom.”

I curtly nod. “Don’t worry, I know.”

“Good.” His smile flashes. “Let’s get moving then. I’m dying to know if the spiked punch is as good as Debbie says…”

I hook my arm with Malik’s, the steady click-clack of my heels steadying the beat of my heart as we approach the entrance to the event center. Shimmering neon pink and green cobwebs glow from the blue hue of the black lights in the windows. We pass through the arch adorned with orange, purple, and black balloons into a vast open floor sprinkled with metallic confetti. Colorful laser lights bounce off the pumpkin lantern-shaped disco balls hanging over the center of the dance floor. Fog swirls around my coworker’s feet as they dance to Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like the Wolf” pulsing through the speakers. 

Malik throws his head back with laughter. “Hunnie, you’re goin’ to catch flies like that.”

I snap my mouth shut, shaking my head. Everything around me was just bringing that teenager inside up to the surface. I couldn’t help but gasp and squeeze his arm tighter when my eyes landed on the photo station. The dark backdrop sports a haunted abandoned house with a graveyard as its front lawn. More colorful glittery cobwebs decorate the edges.

Just then, the original “Sweet Dreams” begins to play through the DJ’s tall black speakers. I spin on my heels, coming face to face with Malik, my eyes wide, matching the grin that’s plagued my face since walking in.

“This soundtrack is perfect!”

“Mhm…Thank your premium, Spotify.”

“I don’t have a premium account?”

“You do as of last week,” he smirks.

“How…?” I wave it off. “You know what? I don’t even care. This is amazing. My old high school could never.”

Malik nods. “You closing that deal gave us the budget for this. And I love you, but I am so tired of hearing about your missed chance at going to prom, so I put all this together just for you.”

I felt a pinch in my chest, “Awe, Malik…”

“Listen, after everything you’ve done for this firm and most importantly for ME, as a friend…I felt you deserved this second chance.”

“Oh god, I think I’m going to cry…”

“Don’t you dare!” he joins in, fanning his hands at my eyes. “I worked too hard on this look!”

“Clara…?”

I freeze, my heart palpating. Are there defibrillators in this building? I know that voice. The deep timbre of the man I had crushed on all through my high school years. The man I was finally going to have a chance with. Only when he showed up to pick me up for senior prom was my house long empty. Where I had to up and move to go take care of my grandmother, who had fallen sick. There wasn’t even a note left with an explanation.

“Second chances…” Malik winks at me before sauntering off in his silver tux towards the cauldron-shaped punch bowl.

Slowly, I turn around, my eyes locking with his like magnets. His light blue eyes, a striking contrast against his ebony slicked-back hair and velvet tuxedo. I expected to find disdain or disappointment, but not the weight of their attentiveness soaking me in, as if I might not be real before him.

“I didn’t think you could get more beautiful.”

 I look away, heat flushing my cheeks. “Adam…I’m sorry. I should’ve called.”

Adam gives me a gentle smile, reaching out to give my elbow a light squeeze, “It’s alright…” He looks past me, his soothing voice calming the deep thrumming within my bones, “A little birdy filled me in on the missing pieces.”

Warmth fills my heart, knowing Malik was this little birdy. What I did to deserve a friend like him, I’ll never know. Adam straightens his spine before extending his large hand to me. “What do you say? Would you like to make the memories we never got the chance to make before?”

I bite down on my bottom lip to keep my smile from splitting my face in two. I slide my hand into his warm one, my voice a little breathless. “Yes, please.”

Adam’s eyes never leave mine as he guides me to the dance floor. “Every Breath You Take” by The Police begins to fill the air around us as the world dissipates, with my head lying against his chest and his chin resting atop my head. The steady beat of my heart syncing with his.  

[ace-angel-judas]

Wait WHAT? More Clara/Lymin yandere please I'm hooked

“You have to disappear,” Simon stated simply.

“What do you mean disappear?” Clara spat him.

Simon looked at Clara, this kid he had raised since she was barely his knee height.

“They’ve found you, Clara,”

She looked dejected, almost defeated. Because Simon had watched from a distance, he knew what was going on.

Clara had found a home, she’d found a parent that wasn’t a criminal or a serial killer, she’d found a family.

“I don’t want to..,” Clara whispered.

“You’ll put her and that baby in danger,” Simon stated again.

The door clicking shut and footsteps made Ly look up, placing the plate down on the kitchen bench. Clara had picked up skateboarding, exercise was good for teenagers as Ly had read.

Only when Clara walked into the kitchen, Ly looked at the tears streaming down her face.

“Clara? Did something happen? What’s wrong-“

She wasn’t expecting such a sudden and strong hug, the young girl sobbing into her shoulder. Ly rubbed her back slowly.

“It’s okay, honey,” Ly whispered, “It’s alright,”

“You make me so happy,” Clara sobbed, “Your my mom,”

Ly swallowed the lump in her throat, “Of course I’m your mom, that’s all I ever want to be,”

Clara’s body trembled as she stared out the kitchen window from Ly’s shoulder. Simon stood there, watching the both of them.

In their life, crying was weak. Crying got you killed.

But for once, Clara felt normal.

She pulled away, quickly composing herself and wiping away her tears. Ly cupped her face, smiling at her.

“You alright?” Ly asked.

“Yeah just.., I’m happy here, I hope you know it,” Clara explained.

“And I’m happy your here, eat up,”

They both sat at the kitchen bench, Clara quickly munching down on what would possibly be here last home cooked meal.

Glancing out the window again, Clara looked at Simon.

“Promise you’ll take care of her and my baby brother, okay?”

“I promise, Clara, no one will touch them,”

[theshelbyclan]

4k Celebration: Fanfiction Recommendations!

As promised, now for the best part of my 4k celebration, which are my recommendations for all of you to read! As I mentioned, I’ve only included the fics I’ve read in the last couple of weeks as I was planning this celebration. And I’ve had the pleasure of reading so much amazing work. I tried to narrow this down to 10 fics, but didn’t succeed lol. Please know, that if you’re not mentioned here but I have let you know I loved your work, it’s not because it wasn’t ‘good enough’, everything I’ve commented on I loved, but these really stood out to me. 👏👏👏

The dress she never got to wear (Shelby sis) - @julyzaa​: This one utterly shattered my heart, there was so much angst and it actually made me cry. So, yeah, I’d totally recommend 😂

Funeral (shelby sis) - @zablife​: I loved this one because of the beautiful writing about the war, what it did to Tommy, but also his sister. It was so deep and soft and the sign of a truly talented writer. I’ve read so much of your work this week, Lee, and I was in awe. Almost impossible to pick just one...

Are you a man or monster? (Arthur Shelby) - @the-makingsofgreatness​: True art and written like poetry. These lines were all haunting and such an interesting cross-over, one that works so well. Also, 100 points for that gorgeous moodboard 😍

Lost and found (Tommy shelby x reader) - @pherelesytsia​: the idea of Tommy as a single father attracted me to this story and it’s such an original take, written in a way that made me want to read on and on. The story was very cute and the ending made me feel all warm inside 😊 

War Paint (Tommy x reader) - @runnning-outof-time​: ah, K, I could list all of your stories on here, you’re such a brilliant writer. But I chose this one because I enjoyed every single second of it and I do enjoy a cheater getting punished...

Wishes in the tea leaves (Polly x Clara (OC Shelby sis) - @hb-writes​: It’s no secret you’re one of my favourite writers on here and I adore Clara with all my heart, but the last few weeks I got to re-reading them again and found a few new ones! I loved this little tale with Polly and Clara, absolutely brilliant in every way, especially since I still miss Polly 😢

Greedy Bastard (Tommy x reader) - @celticmelody​: This one made it on here, not just because of the excellent smut (can’t believe this was your first time writing it babes...), but also because of the story. It had me hooked from beginning to end and everything was perfect!

In another world (Grace and Ruby Shelby) - @retromafia​: not the most likely one to choose maybe, but it made me bawl, so it deserves a special spot XD This was fantastically written as always, but check out all of her work, because Lily truly is a talent, as well as a doll ❤️

Love will keep you up all night (Tommy Shelby x reader) - @look-at-the-soul​: pure, domestic, teeth-rotting fluff, and I needed it so much on a hard day, so I love you for writing this one!

Wherefore art thou (Isiah x Shelby sis) - @existenceisfunny​: I needed way more Isiah in my life and then you showed up with these amazing fics! This one was probably my favourite; i loved the interactions, the whole idea of the story and all of the fluff a woman needs!! 

Immoral (Ada Shelby x reader) - @bonniesgoldengirl​: First off, you know I love you and everything you do and write. Ada’s always been my forever crush and this, THIS, was amazing. I’ve read the other one, with a bit more smut in it, about a hundred times, but this one was sweet and everything I could ever want (which is Ada)! 

What a young girl should not know (OC shelby sis) - @lovelyalways​: I love Nelly Shelby’s character so much, she’s so smart, and she fits into the family so well! It’s like she’s always been there. I’ve read all of them, but this one’s good as an introduction 😊

Little love (John Shelby x reader) - @disasterofastory​: I will forever have a soft spot for John, and this one was so hilarious. John is written perfectly, especially when drunk, but this entire story is just so soft!

That was it sweet people, the end of my 4k celebration. I wanted to end with the fic rec list, because I realise full well that none of this would’ve happened without everyone’s support, those mentioned on here and all those others as well: Couldn’t have done this without you. Know that I appreciate and love you all! Much love, Thura 😘

[outoftheblue-if]

I've been on this page for 15 minutes and you have me hook line and sinker. I must take care not to perish in the foreseeable future because I want this content so bad I can taste it.

If your taking asks on angst, how would ROs react to the MC getting actual true amnesia and forgetting them?

Or if you are taking asks on fluff, how would the ROs react to being given their favorite or a needed gift?

And if not, please just take the compliment as your writing from what I've seen is absolutely captivating.

Ahh, thank you anon! You'll make me cry! 😭I'm so happy and grateful that people are interested in my story and characters ❤️I honestly never expected this much love and support, I’m truly amazed 🥺

I’ll answer both for you, since you made my day!

If your taking asks on angst, how would ROs react to the MC getting actual true amnesia and forgetting them?

I’m going to say this is in the relationship stage, for added angst 😈

Isobel: Would be pretty stricken. It took so long for her to realise and admit her feelings for you and let you inside her heart, knowing that you’d forgotten everything that led up to that, forgotten everything about her, would be pretty devastating to her. She wouldn’t be deterred though, as her feelings for you are still there. She would set out to make sure you got the best care possible, and seeing about recovering your memories. If you never recovered them, or the attempts brought you distress, she would simply set out to make you fall in love with her again. 

Max: Would be absolutely devastated. They’re convinced that you falling in love with them the first time was just pure luck, a chance in a lifetime, and now that’s lost. You’ve forgotten. How can they recreate that same luck a second time?? They would be frantically trying to remind you of everything, trying to convince you that you were in fact in love, desperately hoping that you’d remember. If this caused you distress/discomfort however, they would stop, trying instead to be friendly and upbeat, but inside they would be terrified they’d lost you forever.

Clara: Would be pretty crushed, but she would hide it well, focusing instead on being taking care of you and making sure you got the best care possible as you recovered. Would try to stay optimistic and encouraging in your presence, but would probably cry herself to sleep at night. You forgetting the love you had for each other is honestly her worst nightmare, and she’s terrified you’ll never remember. But even if you never recovered your memories, she would set about trying to make you fall in love with her again. 

Richard: This would be so hard on Richard. Being around you when you’d forgotten all about him and your feelings for each other would bring up so many past insecurities and heartbreaks, it would be difficult for him to deal with. On top of that, he finds it hard to express his feelings, and now the one person he felt he could share them with is like a stranger to him. He would be heartbroken, and probably act somewhat distant to protect himself, especially if you expressed confusion or doubt about the relationship/having been in love with him. He would still make sure you got the absolute best care though, and he’s hoping and praying that one day you’ll remember. 

William: Would also be devastated, but he too would try to push that aside to be the best support he can be to you and make sure you’re feeling comfortable/having your needs met. Would also be feeling terrified that you’d never remember, as he too was amazed that you ever fell for him in the first place, and worried that this might not happen a second time. Even if you never remembered, he would be hoping that you would fall for him again, but he probably wouldn’t push it. He would be happy just to have you as a friend/in his life, if that’s all you wanted, though it would absolutely kill him inside.

✨

Or if you are taking asks on fluff, how would the ROs react to being given their favorite or a needed gift?

Isobel: Would blink, a little stunned for a moment, before a tender warmth infuses her chest. It still amazes her that not only does she have someone in her life that go out of their way to give her thoughtful gifts, with no ulterior motives, but also to have someone that knows her so intimately that they know exactly what to give. She would be a little speechless, probably a little misty eyed, as she pulls you into her arms and rests her forehead against yours. “Thank you, love, you know me so well.” Would vow to return the sentiment as soon as possible. 

Max: Their eyes would light up with excitement and warmth, a giddy happiness welling up in their chest. Would insist that you didn’t have to get them anything, but in the next second they would pull you into a hug, lifting you and spinning you if they can. “Thank you, MC! This is exactly what I wanted!” Would set you down and place a resounding kiss on your lips. Would honestly be so amazed that you thought of getting them a gift, it’s above and beyond what they expected, but would probably be more grateful and happy at the gesture and the thought behind it than the thing itself. Prepare to be spoiled in return. 

Clara: Would be delighted at the gift. Once she sees what it is, she would beam, happiness bursting inside of her. “Oh, MC, this is perfect! Thank you so much!” Would marvel at the gift for another moment, before she pulls you into her arms to shower your face with kisses. This would honestly make her so happy. She loves surprises like this, and especially ones that show how well you know her, and how much you truly see her and listen to her. Would be walking around beaming like the sun for days afterwards, and would definitely plotting to do something nice for you in return. 

Richard: Would be surprised. “A gift? For me?” Once he sees what it is, his eyes would widen in amazement, flickering up to yours and back as he tries to find the right words. “I’m... Is this…?” Would swallow loudly, feeling his heart squeeze tightly in his chest as boundless affection surges through his body. Would pull you gruffly into his chest to place a tender kiss on your forehead as he whispers thank you. Would probably hold you close for a long time, feeling a little overcome with love and gratitude.

William: Would probably rub his neck self-consciously, all the while an affectionate glow spreads through his chest, warming his insides and flushing his cheeks. “MC, please, you didn’t have to…”  As he opens the gift, he would be struck speechless for a moment, feeling such a powerful surge of love for you, it knocks the breath out of him. “This is… I’m...” Shaking his head in wonder, he would set the gift aside so he can wrap you up in a loving embrace as he gives you a passionate kiss. “Thank you.” He would murmur against your lips, before pulling back to stare at you with aching tenderness. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Thank you so much for your lovely message, and for your wonderful asks! ✨❤️

[missymurphy1985]

Nobody's Perfect (part10)

Warnings - mentions of baby loss / smut

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers

The following days of filming were tense to say the least. Helen had tried talking to Cillian but refused. He also refused to come back to your room, having booked himself his own in a different hotel. You'd tried talking to him onset but he kept his distance from you as much as possible, having arranged with Steve to push back his scenes with you until a later date. Steve hadn't asked questions, fortunately.

You had the weekend off, and had planned for the two of you to spend it with your sister and her husband in Liverpool. As you were packing your bag on the Friday afternoon, you heard your hotel door open. Turning round, you saw Cillian, bag over his shoulder.

"Hey..." You almost whispered, choking up at the sight of him. He looked like he hadn't slept for days.

"Hey. Listen - " you stopped him.

"No, you listen. I never should have said those things Cillian.. I never should have shouted at you. I never should have shut you out.. I just didn't know what to say! All the hurt, and pain.. just bottled up inside me and I couldn't keep it in any longer.. being Clara again, knowing she was having a baby, it broke my heart... I'm sorry.. I'm so fucking sorry..." He put his bag on the floor and took you in his arms, holding you as you cried for the first time in front of him. You could feel his body shake as he cried too. Months of pain and anguish came crashing out of you both as you sunk to the floor together. He hadn't realised he'd left the door open, and Helen rushed in to you in a panic, finding you kneeling on the floor together in pieces and wrapped her arms round you both, shutting the door so as not to alert anyone else. You both fell into her, as she calmed you both and stood you up.

"Now listen to me, both of you. No one deserves what you're going through, no one.. but I can't watch you both destroy yourselves over it any longer. What are your plans this weekend?" You wiped your eyes and told her you were going to your sisters for the weekend.

"Well you better let me call her, because you're not going." You both looked at her, confused. "Here's my keys. This is my and Damien's holiday home in the Lake District. Completely private, no neighbours for miles. It's yours for the weekend. Fully kitted out, groceries already bought. The girls and I have it all taken care of."

"But my sister - "

"Will understand when I call her and explain what's happening. We have every weekend off now, you can go to your sisters next weekend?" You looked at Cillian and he smiled.

"Maybe it's not such a bad idea y/n?"

"Your sister's the one I met at the premiere, right? Tall, blond, drinks like a fish?" You laughed, remembering how well Helen and your sister had got on that night doing tequila slammers and dancing like maniacs to the Macarena. "It's only about an hour away from here. If you leave now, you'll be there in time to watch the sun set over the hills. Turn your phone's off, and reconnect. Talk. And change the sheets before you leave." She smirked, before Cillian pulled her close for a hug.

"Love you Helen. You always know what to do..."

"Aunt Pol knows everything. Give me your sisters number y/n and get out of here!"

Hand in hand, you walked into the cottage and instantly blown away. It was simply beautiful. Rustic yet elegant, olde worlde yet stylish.. it screamed Helen McCrory and you both loved it. Setting your bags in the living room, Cillian made his way over to the record player in the corner and chose a record he knew you loved. Putting it on, he held out his hand. You giggled, taking it, as he pulled you close, swaying with you to the music. No words exchanged, they weren't needed.

As the song drew to a close, he lifted your chin up and leaned in, his lips meeting yours for the first time in nearly a week. Your arms pulled him closer, as your tongues met, and he slowly pushed you over to the sofa. You pulled his jacket off his shoulders before he lifted your t-shirt over your head, puling back to admire you. Reaching behind you, unclasping your bra with one hand, his eyes and hands roamed slowly over your chest and shoulders like it was the first time he'd ever seen or felt them.

He slowly unbuttoned your jeans, letting them fall to the floor along with your underwear. As you stood completely bare in front of him, you felt slightly self-conscious, and covered yourself a little.

"Don't. Let me look at you. You're beautiful, don't you know that?"

"I haven't felt it for a while."

"And that's my fault. Let me make you feel beautiful?" You nodded as he guided you to the bedroom down the hall. Walking in, you both saw rose petals over the fresh bedsheets, as well as a bottle of champagne on ice with two glasses.

"They went all out didn't they?" You smiled as he lay you down onto the bed. His lips carefully caressed over your neck, down your collarbone and over your breasts as you arched your back at his touch, sending tingles down your spine.

He kissed over your belly, down to your hips, and parted your legs slowly. He blew softly against your core, making you shudder, as his tongue lapped from the bottom up to your clit, circling it gently. You were panting now, desperate for release. His fingers brushed over your thighs and into your groin, before easing two fingers inside you, sliding in effortlessly as if they were made for this purpose alone. His mouth was torture on you, you could feel your orgasm building.

"Please... Cillian..." You begged, raising your hips to meet his tongue. He responded perfectly - upping the pressure and speed of his tongue as he drove you over the edge, you came crying his name. With one more gentle kiss to your clit, he stood up, once again admiring you silently. You sat up and pulled at the zipper on his jeans. Pulling them down with his boxer shorts and taking his hard cock in your hand. Giving it a few gentle pumps, watching his mouth fall open slightly, you smirked as your mouth took him in, he gasped when he felt the back of your throat. Licking up the shaft and over the head, you swallowed him down again, his hand on the back of your head, pulling the pony tail out so he could grip your hair. You groaned into his cock, feeling it twitch in your mouth as he pulled your hair, you could hear him groaning above you, spurring you on.

"Y/n.. I'm gonna come..." You bobbed your mouth faster, and felt him cum deep down your throat, swallowing every drop down.

"Fuck woman... Your mouth is incredible..." He pushed you back onto the bed and lined himself up against you.

For a man over 40, he had the libido of a 25 year old around you, it wasn't long until he was ready to go again.

Pushing you back, he lined himself up against your entrance and pushed in slowly, savouring each second feeling you clench your muscles around him.

"Missed this.." you gasped as he bottomed out, and he kissed you again, moving his hips back and forth easily. A steady rhythm, his forehead against yours as you breathed heavily against each other, looking into each others eyes. Your legs wrapped around his body as high as you could get them, he hooked one of your knees up with his elbow and thrust a little harder, sending you spiralling again. A few more strokes and you came together, you held him tight against you until he'd softened completely, not wanting to let him go.

You'd talked most of the night about everything, in-between more love-making and drawing pleasurable moans from each other, before falling asleep finally around 2am. The following morning, you were making him breakfast in the large kitchen area when he came through wearing his boxer shorts and stood watching you from the doorway.

"You know, I was gonna head to Ireland last night before Helen came in," he confessed.

"I know. I saw the plane ticket on our online banking app. I thought you were leaving me..."

"No, I just needed space. But now I know it isn't space I need, it's you. Only you. I'm sorry I've put you through this y/n..." You turned the hob down and made your way over to him, linking your body against his.

"You know I've never once blamed you, for any of this? I thought we were a team?"

"We are, but you're not the one who's infertile y/n."

"WE are going through this - not ME. We. We have one more round of IVF to go, and if that doesn't work then we'll work it out - okay?"

"I'm worried you'll end up leaving me.."

"Shut up Murphy for the love of God!" You laughed slapping his chest. "Nothing would make me leave you, okay? I could have 100 babies with anyone, but I want one with YOU, and only you. No more talk of leaving, deal?" You booped your nose against his and grinned.

"Deal."

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Rules of Engagement Chapter 2

Summary: Henry and Em have been friends for almost ten years and involved in a casual affair for just as long. The rules were simple: no romantic attachment and their friends and family couldn’t know. Easy enough to do right? However, when new complications emerge, Henry and Em will need to navigate this relationship of theirs, if they can even call it that.  Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 04  | Chapter 5  | Chapter 06

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Emeline)

Wordcount: 4,5K

Warnings: some fluff and a tiny bit of angst

Author’s notes: I want to thank all the comments I got on the first chapter. I didn’t expect this series to get so much recognition. Thank you! Here’s chapter 02. I do hope you all enjoy it and once again I would love to read your feedback.

Chapter 02 - What are the odds?

As soon as Henry stepped out the car in front of the church, he couldn’t help but let his gaze wander, looking for Em. It was almost second nature to him by now, whenever he would meet their friends, his eyes instinctively looked for her.

This time they landed on Todd first, standing outside and holding his baby girl Sophie in his arms. Henry could already feel the smile tugging on his lips as he made his way over, adjusting his button-down and blazer in the process. Last time he had seen the girl, she had just been born, only a week before he had to travel and start shooting The Witcher, but Todd and Clara made sure to keep him updated with pictures of his future goddaughter.

“My God, mate! you’re huge!” Todd commented voice full of awe and Henry chuckled, too distracted by the baby in his friend’s arms.

There was a huge pink bow on top of her brown curly hair and her eyes were bright blue and staring at Henry as he made a couple of silly faces until he got a bubbly giggle.

“What are they doing to you?”

“You don’t want to know. Sorry, I’m late. My flight was delayed.”

“You’re not all that late. Em had wardrobe trouble and Clara is giving her a hand,” Todd said, chuckling as Henry offered his hands up to the toddler, and to his surprise, Sophie actually reached for him, asking to be taken and Henry smirked. “She’s 6 months and already under your charms,” Todd clicked his tongue, handing over the girl.

It was no secret that Henry loved children and children loved Henry. Not only that, but he was also actually good with them. Maybe it was all the nephews and nieces, maybe it was just his natural gift, but kids tended to be in his best behavior with him.

Someone’s got a booboo? Call uncle Henry to kiss it better. Crying fit over a stolen toy or a no? Uncle Henry will hold them until they feel better. Don’t want to sleep? Uncle Henry will tell stories and even do all the voices. Sugar high and need to tire them out? Uncle Henry is on the job with a good dose of Kal…

Henry truly didn’t mind being only a call away for his family and friends. Being the last-minute babysitter whenever he was in town and having a chance of spoiling them rotten. He loved being Uncle Henry but he just couldn’t wait for the day he would be the dad.

First, he needed to find a good partner but so far, his relationships had crashed and burned, some more epically than others. And Henry wasn’t getting any younger. He would hate to be one of those fathers that had their first kid in their fifties, but he was slowly approaching his forties and had yet to meet the woman he wanted to have that kind of commitment with.

Shaking himself out of those thoughts that would lead nowhere, Henry followed Todd to a sideway entrance of the church so they could go in without making much of a fuss. It seemed almost fate that just as they stepped inside, a small hidden door opened and both Clara and Em stepped out.

For a second, Henry just stared, because Em looked so beautiful in that form-fitting soft pink dress, her dark hair falling in elegant waves over her shoulders. He didn’t even notice the sigh he let out or the small snort that came from Todd.

Henry wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself, but he made an exception when it came to this because Em might be the only woman he ever really felt like he could have a long-term relationship with. They just clicked in every aspect.

She was funny and goofy, unafraid of giving him hell whenever he was getting a big head. She could be almost brutally honest at times, but Henry had become quite good at calling her out on it with just one look. Em never failed to make him laugh, and he knew that, aside from Clara, he was the only that got her to completely loosen up. And, of course, he couldn’t forget, that the sex was amazing.

Henry was still dreaming about their last encounter last month, the feel of her without any barriers, and how much trust she laid on him to even suggest such a thing. He loved her even more for it and if only she would stop being so stubborn and accept that she loved him too and that they were perfect together, Henry wouldn’t have this problem. Because he knew Em wanted kids too.

They had this conversation one drunken night about a year ago. She had just broken up with her latest boyfriend, for reasons he couldn’t remember, and came over with a bottle of bourbon ready to drown her sorrows.

It was a cool spring night and they lied in his garden watching the night sky and passing the bottle back and forth, complaining about life and love and everything in between. Kal lodged between them, snoring loudly and making them both fall in a fit of giggles every once in a while.

“Ok, confession time…” Em said, turning sideways to look at him. The way she squinted her eyes to see him made Henry laugh. “I miss the kingstache.” She traced the smooth skin of his upper lip and Henry grinned wide.

“You?” he asked in disbelief. “The one that mocked me the most? That called it a porn mustache?”

“Yes, alright?” she pouted at him knocking against Kal, alcohol impairing her coordination. The dog looked up startled and confused before slipping away from between them. “I miss it. It felt good, especially…”

“Especially what?” Henry asked, turning sideways too and now they were so close he could smell the whiskey in her breath; their noses almost bumping against one another.

“The feel of it whenever you were eating me out,” Em confessed, lip tucked between her teeth as they stared at each other. “And only you could rock a mustache like that, ok?”

“I love how honest you get when we put some alcohol in you,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her lips.

It was supposed to be just a soft peck but Em fisted his hoodie, holding him still while she explored his mouth in a sloppy kiss and Henry felt his body responding to it. The heat spreading, the stirring in his trousers but he pulled away and gave her a stern look.

“We shouldn’t. we’re drunk and nursing breakups…” he warned but she cut him off with another kiss. This one lasted longer, especially as she pressed her entire body against his, one hand coming to scratch his scalp just like Henry loved it and he moaned into the kiss.

“That’s why it’s perfect,” she mumbled. “We can fuck it out of our systems and move on… I don’t want the next guy to be a rebound.”

“Oh, but I can be? That’s lovely.” He arched an eyebrow, hurt and offended. She sat up and rolled her eyes.

“Like I wasn’t a rebound after most of your girlfriends, Hen? You know what? Forget it. I’m leaving.” Em got up in unsteady feet and Henry was by her side in a flash, helping to keep her upright. She could never hold her liquor all that well.

“You’re too drunk. Just stay here. I can get the guest room ready if you’re that pissed at me.”

“I’m not…” she sighed, resting again his chest, but looking away from him. “I really thought Alex was…”

“Really? I always knew he was a wanker.”

Henry felt the warm huff of her laugh against the exposed skin of his throat before she finally looked up at him, chin resting on his sternum, her big and warm brown eyes glassy, lids lowered, her cheeks flushed from alcohol. It was a beautiful sight and he loved how much shorter Em was; how she fitted in his embrace like she belonged there. Henry pushed the thought aside as he guided her inside and up the stairs.

“He was jealous of you, you know?” she flopped on the bed and let Henry take off her jeans, sweater, and bra. “I think he guessed that we have sex on occasion.”

Henry only hummed in reply, picking up one of his old shirts and helping her to put it on. It fit her almost like a dress, hanging almost at her knees, the neckline loose and slipping over her shoulder. He shouldn’t think it was this cute, but he couldn’t help himself. He bent closer, kissing her softly and Em sighed against his lips.

“I’m gonna grab some aspirin for you, please don’t hurl on my floor.”

She gave him a clumsy punch on the shoulder that Henry barely felt, and he chuckled all the way to the kitchen. He wished he could tell Em that he was glad Alex wasn’t the one and that he would like her to see Henry might be. They’ve been doing this for 8 years now and it was probably the longest relationship he had with anyone. If you could call periodically hooking up with a good friend a relationship.

He got back to the room and Em was already asleep, head buried on his pillow and Henry felt bad for waking her up but if she didn’t take anything right now, it would be worst in the morning. For both of them. He shook her lightly and she blinked blearily at him, but still accepting the pill he put in her hand and the sip of water he offered.

“Thanks, Hen. I love you,” she slurred, and Henry chuckled, setting the glass aside while he took off his clothes.

Em would always blurt that out when she was this drunk and it always warmed his heart, giving him hope until the bright light of the day came and he realized that no matter how many times she would say it, Em would still fight this pull between them.

“You’re welcome, love.”

He crawled in bed with her and Em immediately settled against him, tugging on his arm until Henry was spooning her, holding her tight. She was such a cuddler and he loved it. He loved to fall asleep with his nose buried in her head, inhaling the scent of sugar and spice that clung to her. He loved the feel of her warm skin and the soft snores that she never admitted she let out or the way she clung to his hand until she fell asleep.

It was sweet torture to have her like this, knowing that when morning came, Em would be out the door, both of them going their separate ways. But at least for those blissful hours, in the darkness of the night, Henry could pretend otherwise.  

For a while, there was only silence and Henry thought she had fallen asleep again. He was almost drifting off himself when she spoke again.

“You will be the perfect partner for some lucky lady out there,” she whispered, her voice surprisingly coherent considering how drunk she was. “And a great dad.”

“Thanks, Em,” Henry smiled and kissed her temple.

“I’m terrified of having kids,” Em confessed quietly, turning in his arms so they could look at each other in the darkness. “I mean, I didn’t have the greatest role model for a family.”

Henry pushed some hairs away from her face, looking at the big doe eyes staring at him with a glimmer of wetness. He knew her mom left when she was very young and her dad was… well, interesting.

“Do you want to?” he asked, thumb caressing her jaw. “Have kids, I mean?” she nodded, a flitting smile sneaking into her face.

“Yeah, two,” she said softly. “Because I hated being an only child. Good thing I had Clara. How about you?”

“I always thought at least three,” he replied, smiling too. “I want my house full, just like I had growing up.”

“At least?” she cocked an eyebrow at him, and Henry chuckled and shrugged. “I guess that sounds good too, maybe a little chaotic… I mean, how would that work with you and your wife working full time?”

“I would take some time off, of course…” Henry said, lying on his back, one arm around her, the other bent beneath his head. “I’m doing pretty well financially, and I could afford to spend some time off-screen or maybe take smaller roles, local productions…”

“You really thought this out, huh?” Em asked head tilted his way and Henry nodded. He lost count how many times he envisioned this scenario, the only thing that usually changed was the face he pictured for the woman in his life. “You would turn the guest room into a nursery?”

“At first, yeah, but I definitely would want a bigger place,” he said, drawing patterns on her arm. “A little farther away from the city, with a nice kitchen and a big master bedroom. A garden so Kal can run around and the kids could have a playground, maybe even a treehouse…”

“That sounds nice, I’d like that,” she mumbled, her eyes fluttering close, her breath evening out. With one last smile, Henry kissed her brow and let himself drift off too.

That conversation had stayed with him for way longer than it should. Em didn’t remember any of it of course, but Henry did because it seeded something in his heart that he had to work hard to ignore whenever they were together.

Henry guessed it could be seen as a small blessing that their hookups weren’t happened all that often anymore, even if they were both single. He also couldn’t help but notice that when they did end up together, Em seemed to fight the pull that existed between them until she finally relented and fell in bed with him. It made him wonder what changed. Why she felt like they couldn’t have this anymore.

“Henry! You’re here!” Clara greeted him with a kiss on the cheek before she looked down at her daughter comfortably settled on his arms. “And you already charmed Sophie, I see.” She looked at Todd with a grin. “You owe me a tenner.”

Todd rolled his eyes, taking the girl from Henry so they could walk into the church with their daughter, while Henry and Em took their places at the altar, side by side and he gave her a sideways glance to have a better look at her.

“You look nice.”

“You too,” she smiled at him. Her soft, glossy lips looked so tempting that Henry had to discreetly shift his stance to adjust himself.

“What was wrong with your dress?” His gaze lingered on the generous neckline that gave a very nice view of her cleavage. “Looks really good. Especially your tits. They look bigger somehow.”

“Henry!” Em hissed sharply with a glare, but he could see she was fighting off a smile. “But you might actually be right because I busted a seam under my arm and Clara had to sew it back together.”

Before Henry could comment on anything else, the ceremony started and they returned to their best behavior. Todd and Clara brought Sophie forward, handing the girl to Henry and Em so she could be baptized and they were named her godparents.

It was hardly a surprise for them that the couple had invited them, especially because Henry had Todd as a fifth brother and he knew Em viewed Clara as a sister, but they were both honored by the invitation.

Once the ceremony was over, everyone started to head to Todd and Clara’s place for the celebration. Henry was about to ask Em for a ride since he had taken a taxi but froze when he saw her heading to a car with a guy he didn’t know.

“Hey Todd,” he caught his friend who was on his way to say goodbye to a few guests that wouldn’t be able to make to the party. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Jack,” Todd said, following Henry’s gaze, catching sight of Em chatting with the blonde man. “He’s a friend of Clara’s. He and Em met a couple of months ago.”

“They’re dating?” Henry asked with a frown and uncomfortable burn in his stomach, like acid reflux. He had to swallow hard against the urge to puke.

“I don’t know,” Todd shrugged. “But they seemed to have hit off pretty well.”

As if on cue, Em’s laugh rang loud and bright as Jack held the door open so she could slide inside, and Henry had to clench his jaw to stop himself from cursing. From the look on Todd’s face, his friend noticed.

“Need a ride?” he asked, pulling Henry’s attention back him. “My brother is heading off right now.”

“Yes, thanks.”

Henry tried to push the thoughts of Em and the Jack bloke aside, pay at least a little bit of attention to whatever Todd’s brother was droning on and on, but it seemed to be an impossible task. Fortunately, the younger man didn’t seem to need his interaction to make conversation, so Henry just hummed occasionally, looking out the window. He wondered why Em didn’t mention Jack at all last time they saw each other.

Sure, it was a quick visit, but they did talk a lot before they ended up in bed together. It would have been nice to know in advance that she was dating. Was she dating? Em didn’t strike him as the kind of woman that would hook up with someone else if she was seeing another but maybe that was why she was so reluctant to sleep with him last few times?

Before Henry could reach any conclusion, they arrived and he thanked Todd’s brother for the ride before letting his gaze wander through the small gathering of people, locating Em. She was unsurprisingly surveying the cake and pastries since her bakery provided every single treat offered at this party.

Henry didn’t taste anything yet, but he knew they were delicious. Em had a unique talent for baking and it was no wonder her store was becoming more and more popular. He knew part of it was her perfectionism. Even though her team worked with her for years now and knew exactly how she would plan tables and displays, she still needed to survey everything, making sure it was up to her standards.

He took a step in her direction, but before he could go any further, Clara called his name and caught his arm in a soft but firm grip, giving the guest she was talking to a small smile of apology before tugging him to the side.

“Just the man I wanted to see,” she smiled and for a relatively small woman, she could be very intimidating. It was something to do with her piercing blue eyes that always seemed to see right through him. “Have you met Jack?”

“Not really,” he replied in surprise and confusion. Sometimes it felt like Clara could read his mind or something.

“Let me introduce you to him, then,” Clara said, pulling him along and Henry didn’t have in him to protest. He was after all curious about the man. “And please, be nice and make an effort to like him.”

“What does it matter if I like him or not?”

Clara turned to face Henry, her eyes narrowed as she stared him down, and weirdly enough, Henry felt like shrinking into himself at the weight of her stare. No wonder she was such an amazing prosecutor. That one stare was enough to make him want to confess all his crimes.

“So, you don’t know?”

“Know what?” Henry asked. This was one of the most cryptic conversations he had ever had, and he had to do interviews about DCEU without giving any spoilers. Clara heaved a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re Em’s judge.”

“Sorry, I’m what?”

“Em’s judge. For a man’s character. If you don’t like a man she’s seeing or interested in, she’ll dump their arse like a hot potato. You never noticed?”

“No! Clara, that’s… insane! I have no saying in who Em dates.” Henry huffed an awkward breath as he watched his friend. She could not be serious, but from the way she was looking at him, he knew she met every word.

“We both know you don’t have to say anything.” Clara rolled her eyes at him. “Honestly, I’m surprised that Alex lasted as long as he did considering your face turned sour everything time he was around. It was like you had shit stuck under your nose. But regardless if you believe it or not, could you make an effort with Jack? I really think he could be great for Em.”

“Fine!” Henry sighed just wanting to get out of this conversation. “But not right now. I haven’t eaten in six hours and I’m starting to get dizzy.”

“Thank you!” She flashed him a bright smile. “Head to the kitchen and grab something. Brunch will still be a while.” She came to her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before walking away before Henry could even process what was happening.

Henry stood there for a few moments like gaping fish, still trying to wrap his head around the entire conversation but giving up because when it came to Clara, she was lightyears ahead of them on some things. He might as well do what he was told and get a snack before he passed out.

To Henry’s surprise, when he got to the kitchen, he found Em at the sink, finishing up a sandwich that she handed him as soon as he stepped closer.

“What’s this?”

“Toasted wheat bread, no crust, turkey slices, and that tasteless cheese you actually like. Honey mustard, but no mayo,” she said, leaning against the counter and giving him a smile when Henry’s stomach rumbled. “I figured you didn’t have time to grab a bite to eat at the airport...”

“I didn’t. Thanks,” he grinned at her, taking a bite and groaning loudly, making Em chuckle.

“Settle down, Cavill. It’s not that good,” she joked, popping a piece of turkey on her mouth, but grimacing. “Urgh, this taste like cardboard.”

“You’re ok?” he frowned at Em.

“Yeah, just feeling a little queasy all morning,” she replied. “But I have to eat something or my blood sugar gonna plummet.”

Abandoning his sandwich for a second, Henry moved closer to her, resting the back of his hand against her forehead and then neck, frowning lightly.

“You are a little hot.”

“Thanks,” she flashed him a cheeky smile that made Henry chuckle.

“You know what I mean.” He cupped her cheek and it was a testament of how bad she much be feeling if Em was actually letting her guard down and allowing this small intimate moment in a place anyone could walk in on them. “You might be coming down with something.”

“Fuck! I hope not. This is one of my busiest months,” she let out a long exhale, and maybe it was just Henry’s wishful thinking, but he thought Em might have stepped closer, almost leaning into him and all he wanted was to take her in his arms and hold her.

“Am I interrupting?” Clara cleared his throat, making them both jump and turn to stare at her guiltily as she looked at them with a knowing smirk.

Henry wondered why she seemed to be everywhere. He knew it was this sort of gift every great hostess had but it could be very annoying when all he wanted was some privacy with Em.

“No,” Em recovered first, stepping away from Henry. “I’m just not feeling well, and Henry was checking up on me.”

Clara just hummed, coming closer and mimicking Henry’s actions, her brow drawing into a frown.

“I don’t think you have a fever, but you’re a little hot. Maybe it’s just that time of the month?” she asked, giving Henry a sideways glance.

“No, I had my period…” Em trailed off with a thoughtful frown as if she couldn’t exactly recall and Clara chuckled.

“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d joke you’re pregnant,” Clara teased with a smile. “I mean, the bloating and nausea and all that? Anyway, just lie down for a while. You’re probably just overworked.”

Once again, Clara was gone like a quick whirlwind, leaving Henry and Em to stare at each other in shock. He knew his eyes were wide and he was stunned into silence. Em just looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“No!” she snapped once Henry recovered enough to try to say something. “Don’t even think it, Henry. It was once and I have an IUD. It can’t be.”

“You’re right,” he agreed quickly, but his heart was still thundering in his chest, his hands sweaty and he could barely breathe, terror and excitement mingled together in his chest, but he didn’t dare to voice it. Not when Em looked like she was about to throw up.

“Clara’s right. I’m just tired,” she sounded like she was trying to convince herself, not Henry. “I just need a good night of sleep. That’s all. So, we’re not gonna talk about this, because it’s impossible. What are the odds of actually happening?”

Less than 1 percent, Henry found out later, once he was at home and couldn’t sleep, still thinking about the entire thing. He googled it to calm his nerves, surprised by the hint of disappointment he felt at learning it was next to impossible. It wasn’t enough to stop him from thinking and wondering, though.

Enough so that when he heard the sound of his doorbell, Henry nearly jumped out of his skin. It was a noise he practically had forgotten about since Kal would always announce newcomers way before they could ring it. But Kal was back in Budapest. It didn’t make sense to bring him over when Henry would only be staying a day.

Henry glanced at his clock, frowning at the late hour as he made his way downstairs and pulled his door open. Em pushed her way inside, her face tearstained and a mask of fury as she threw something his way. Henry caught by reflex, before staring at her in confusion.

“I hate you, Cavill! I fucking hate you!” she declared, sniffling and hugging herself.

“Em, what…?” he didn’t get to finish his question, because she gestured at the object he was still holding. Henry finally looked down, eyes widening when he realized it was a pregnancy test. One of those pharmacy types and it was positive.

“I did five of them. All positive,” she said, rubbing her face dry and glaring at him. “Damn you and your fucking Superman sperm!”

Henry stared at her wordless, still clinging to the white stick in his hand.

“What are we gonna do?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t know how.

chapter 01                                     x(tbc)x                                           chapter 03

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[riversofmars]

Clara finds her luck is finally turning and formulates a plan while the Doctor learns more about the past of her counterpart and their wife.

Read on AO3 or below

Chapter 7: Nature and Nurture

/The Library/

River gasped for air when she hit the marble floor, she rolled to the side, quick to avoid another attack. She threw herself into the Doctor at waist height and knocked him over. Child’s play. She was back on top in no time. He would get better at this with age.

“How did you get so good at hand to hand combat?“ He grinned, he couldn’t quite keep the admiration out of his voice. He enjoyed a good fight and she had given him a few cracked rips already. He threw her off, physically, he was stronger.

“Some of us are trained assassins.“ River smirked getting back to her feet. She wiped her mouth with a back of her hand where her lip had split.

“Pretty shite assassin if you can’t make the kill.“ He got back to his feet as well, God, her lips looked extremely kissable right now and that fire in her eyes…

“Who said I was trying to kill you?“ River laughed as they started circling each other. He looked her up and down, intrigued.

“What else would you call this?“ He asked and lunged for her. She dodged a right hook and delivered a jab to his side.

“Foreplay?“ She suggested with a wink. She couldn’t deny how much she was enjoying this. She had never seen him so young before, he didn’t know her and this was delicious tit for tat. “Plus, you attacked me first.“ She reminded him.

“Maybe I don’t like people getting involved in my business.“ He tried to catch his breath. Who was this woman? She acted like they had known each other for years but he was sure he had never met her before. He didn’t like it when people tried to play him the fool and yet, it was refreshing. It had been a long time since anyone had had the balls to talk to him the way this woman did. And God, she was good. Particularly when she whipped around and decked him with a kick to the back of his knees. She was on top of him in a flash.

“Is that your sonic or are you just happy to see me?“ She smirked as she held him down pinning his wrists against the ground.

“Who are you?“ He asked intrigued, forgetting to fight back for a moment. Maybe it wasn’t his sonic after all.

“So you really don’t know who I am?“ She raised her eyebrows amused as she let go of his hands but didn’t get off him, if anything, she moved her hips a little against him.  

“I’m looking forward to getting intimately acquainted.“ He grinned running her hands up her thighs.

“Perhaps when you're older.“ River smirked studying his face. “So young… Looks like my message arrived a little early.“

“Doctor?!“ An angry voice interrupted.

“Donna?“ The Doctor and River both looked around at Donna who had just thrown the door open. She put her hands on her hips, not amused at all at the scene in front of her.

“For fuck’s sake, really? REALLY?“ She snapped. “I’ve been running around this place ages and it’s just books, fucking BOOKS, Doctor! What are we doing here?“

“Well, I don’t know, but I found the person that sent the message!“ The Doctor pushed River off and scrambled to his feet.

“Don’t tell me this was a booty call, so help me, Doctor, I will castrate you.“ Donna jabbed her finger at him.

“You must be Donna.“ River chuckled, of course she knew full well who she was but she reminded herself that they didn’t know her in return, not yet.

“What of it?“ Donna retorted seizing her up. “Who are you?“

“Professor River Song.“ River grinned extending her hand which Donna didn’t take, instead she looked to the Doctor who was still focused on the mystery assassin in front of him.

“You like your hook ups to have PhDs now or what?“ Donna scolded him which made River laugh but he wasn’t paying attention.

“River Song, lovely name. I’m the Doctor by the way.“

“Yes, you still are, aren’t you.“ River tilted her head a little as she looked him up and down. “Ah such a long time ago…“

“What’s that supposed to mean?“ Donna looked in between the two of them.

“I’m from his future, his personal future.“ River answered with a shrug, as if it wasn’t obvious by this point. She tried not to get offended at his lack of recognition, instead, she delighted in his youthful naivety and playfulness. He was a far cry from the person she would spend the rest of her life with, but they all had to start somewhere and their story was more complicated than most.

“What? Are you his wife or something.“ Donna rolled her eyes at her.

“Spoilers.“ River grinned and returned her attention to her future husband. “But honestly, Pretty Boy. Drop the name. Doctor doesn't make the universe tremble as it should.“

——

“Any chance you can tell me what this place is and who you are?“ River asked as she looked around. Clara remained silent contemplating her next move. River didn’t recognise her. And she didn’t seem to know what had happened. This wasn’t their River Song, that was immediately obvious. There was only one possible explanation: The Emperor had told her, that the Doctor’s River was dead so she had to have been the one the Doctor had been trying to bring back using the extraction chamber. And she must have succeeded! Only she didn’t know she had. However the Doctor had crossed from her universe, the same thing must have happened with River, only delayed. A plan was forming in Clara’s head. It was about time her luck changed.

“River Song, right?“ She said, putting on a smile.

“How do you know who I am?“ River frowned slightly confused, she had never seen the young woman before.

“Well, the Doctor sent me…“ Clara explained. It was a gamble but if she played her cards right, this River need never know where she was or what had happened. At least for the time being. She could make her trust her. It would make things far easier.

“The Doctor is here?“ River’s expression brightened immediately.

“Well, not here, it’s a bit more complicate than that, she…“ Clara carried on but River interrupted:

“She? My, I’ll say, that is a bit more complicated.“

Clara tried her best to keep up, draw from her responses as much information as she could. This River didn’t know the Doctor’s most recent regeneration yet, she must have been dead a while. If the Emperor’s dedication for her wife was any indication, the Doctor would feel the same way about her River which would prove to be very useful. And judging by the fact that she didn’t seem to recognise her, she had died before the Clara from the other universe had started travelling with the Doctor. Again, very useful.

“My name is Clara, I’m a friend of the Doctor’s.“ She introduced herself with a sweet smile and extended her hand to her.

“Lovely to meet you, Clara.“ River smiled, mirroring her warm expression while shaking her hand. Clara wanted to laugh. This was almost too easy. “What is this place?“ River asked.

“You’re on Gallifrey in an extraction chamber, it’s rather complicated to explain but I need you to trust me. The Timelords won't be pleased we used their technology to bring you here so we need to get you out of here before anyone realises, do you think you can help me with that?“ Clara asked, a compliant helpful prisoner would be far easier to control than one that realised she was one.

“Well, I did once break into the Met Gala and walk out with the Crown Jewels unnoticed. I think I can manage to avoid some Timelords.“ River grinned with a sense of excitement. She couldn’t believe her luck, the Doctor had actually managed to save her from her death. That impossible man… woman? Either was, she couldn’t wait to see them again. “Lead the way, Clara.“ She smiled and Clara grinned:

“Excellent.“

——

“Feel better yet.“ River asked when they were back in the Royal Wing, just her and her wife.

“I would feel better if I could wrap my hands around her throat.“ The Emperor retorted still seething with anger. She made her way to a large window that overlooked most of the Citadel and the gaping void far below.

“They will find her, she can’t have gone far.“ River tried to sooth her as she stepped up behind her and wrapped her arms around her slender waist. The Emperor relaxed a little, only being alone with River allowed her to do so. “I know you don’t want to hear it but this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t let Clara in on this.“ River hummed, sensing it was as good a time as any to voice her concerns.

“It’s not her fault.“ The Emperor retorted quickly but lacked the passion with which she had defended her earlier.

“The Monk is her associate.“ River reminded her.

“I know you don’t like her but she is a powerful ally and a friend.“ The Emperor retorted with a sigh. “In case you haven’t noticed, the circle is getting smaller.“

“Yes where are they all? Martha, Donna, Sarah-Jane? Off on their jollies I guess?“ River huffed, clearly annoyed.

“I can’t very well force them to sit around and play my personal guards, so much more fun to be had out there…“ The Emperor gave a shrug. She understood. She had made many close friends along the way, united in their sense of adventure and destruction. She couldn’t blame them for seeking more exciting activities than sitting around the palace keeping people in line. Most days, she didn’t enjoy it either. “I miss it, River, the rush, the adventure…“

“Which is why it’s about time we find somewhere else to conquer.“ River reminded her, intent on cheering her up. Some people were just not meant to sit still.

“I will get her back.“ The Emperor’s expression turned hard again as she looked out over the city. Her city. Her planet. Her universe. How did they dare defy her? “And I will kill everyone involved in helping her escape.“ She pressed through gritted teeth. “Perhaps I’ve been too lenient. People seem to forget what happens when they disobey… That’s why we can’t let this treachery stand.“

“We haven’t had games in a while.“ River mused, feeling a sense of excitement at her wife’s statement.

“No, we haven’t.“ The Emperor considered her words with a grin.

“Bread and circuses, isn’t that what the Romans on Earth used to do.“ River chuckled. “I just don’t understand why they don’t see you as the generous ruler you are.“ She sighed.

“I have been generous. I have made Gallifrey the centre of the known universe, what else do they expect.“ The Emperor snapped, annoyed, not at River but at the situation in general.

“I know you have.“ River nuzzled into her hair and pressed a kiss to her neck.

“Ungrateful children.“ The Emperor huffed. “I won the Time War for them, I brought the entire universe to heel. If they chose to act like spoilt brats I will treat them as such. I have been kind to them. For years I’ve turned a blind eye and let them lead their little lives, ignoring their whispers and dissident behaviour because they’re still my people. But if I find out they have anything to do with this… We will have games Gallifrey won’t forget for generations. I will purge this city.“ She growled.

“I know you’re sentimental, my darling. With Clara… with your people… But your kindness could become a weakness if we’re not careful.“ River hummed holding her close.

“Clara won’t move against me, she has no cards to play and whether you like it or not, she is also too sentimental about me.“ The Emperor replied.

“Is that why you’re doing nothing to discourage her?“ River huffed, unable to completely brush over how touchy she was about the subject.

“Maybe I like to keep my options open.“ The Doctor smirked and turned in her arms to see the expression on her face. River was quick to pull back and attempt to slap her but the Emperor caught her hand mid-air with great amusement. “Don’t worry, my love, my hearts belong to you alone, I’m just teasing you.“ She took her wife’s hand and placed it against her chest for emphasis. “If I find out Clara’s had anything to do with it or is going behind my back in any way, I will kill her with my own hands.“ She promised.

“I will hold you to that.“ River sighed but smiled. She had never disappointed her or broken a promise. There was no-one she trusted more.

“I’m gonna go down there myself.“ The Emperor turned back to the window. Mist and smoke shrouded the lowest levels of the city in darkness.

“Darling, are you sure that’s entirely necessarily.“ River frowned. Though she knew full well that she was able to handle herself she didn’t like the idea of her going amongst the people that hated her most. She had grown quite attached to this face of hers.

“When I said I’m going to rip this city apart looking for her, I meant it.“ The Emperor growled and River knew she wouldn’t be able to stop her.

——

The Doctor excused herself from Missy’s tent. She needed some fresh air to process while Missy continued consoling her friend. The Doctor couldn’t bring herself to look on much longer. It wasn’t just the fact that she felt utterly useless, it was also the guilt for how she was watching Missy. It was as if at every turn she was expecting her to show her true colours, break the facade, lose the grip on herself. She just couldn’t bring herself to accept the truth and emotions behind her actions and she knew that was wrong. This Missy didn’t deserve her mistrust and yet, she couldn’t quite overcome her doubts just yet.

Missy had made her promise to come back before too long, she insisted it wouldn’t be safe to stay out in the open. It was only a matter of time before the guards would be back. For now, the Doctor was walking around the camp, getting a sense of the place.

As she was acclimating to this universe, as she was learning more and more about her counter part and these distorted versions of her closest friends, she couldn’t help but wonder how all of it had come to pass. Perhaps if she learned more about this version of the past, she could work out a way forward. Some sort of weakness or miscalculation. There was one question that bugged her more than all the others and she thought maybe, she would be able to find some answers here. It didn’t take long to find Manton, he was talking to two men by the entrance to the tent city, almost as if instructing guards. Though he insisted he was not a Colonel here, he certainly appeared to be playing a similar role. It gave her hope that her theory might be correct.

“You’re not leaving, are you?“ He greeted her with raised eyebrows as she came to a halt in front of him.

“No, I was actually looking for you.“ The Doctor replied. “There’s something I wanted to ask you about if you don’t mind. I think Missy is going to preoccupied for a while, so…“

“How can I help?“ He asked, indicating that there was no need to justify herself.

“Uhm, so… In my universe…“

“I am somewhat curious about that.“ He chuckled but allowed her to continue without pushing further.

“I won’t bore you with the details.“ She gave him an awkward smile. She didn’t think any of them would particularly want to know about how they were her enemies in another life. “In my universe you were working with a chapter of the church of the papal mainframe… does that… mean anything to you?“

“The Kovarian Chapter.“ Manton raised his eyebrows, he knew he shouldn’t be surprised, it stood to reason things ran somewhat similar in both universes but it still caught him off guard.

“Yes.“ The Doctor smiled in relief, affirmed in her suspicions. “Madame Kovarian, is she… I mean… What happened to her? She’s not…“

“She’s here if that’s what you want to know.“ He interrupted her babbling with a kind smile.

“She is?“ The Doctor had hoped so but she was surprised nonetheless.

“Would you like me to take you to her?“ He asked slightly amused.

“Would you?“

“I don’t see why not, but she might not be quite what you’re expecting…“ He replied. “This way, Doctor.“

To the Doctor, all the tents looked more or less the same but Manton seemed to know where he was going. It didn’t take them long, the relatively small tent was located to the outskirts of the camp, almost as if she liked to keep to herself.

“Madame Kovarian?“ Manton spoke up as they entered the tent, announcing their arrival. The Doctor followed him somewhat reluctantly, she wasn’t sure how she was going to feel for seeing the woman that had had such a large impact on her life, having caused her and her closest friends  so much pain, but as she lay eyes on her, she didn’t feel the same distrust she did with Missy. Missy still looked too much like herself, Madame Kovarian, however, appeared nothing like the woman she remembered.

“Madame Kovarian?“ The Doctor echoed her name. For one thing, it was to reassure her that it was actually her. For the other, it was to make herself known as Madame Kovarian appeared to be blind. She wore eye patches similar to the eye drives the Doctor remembered but there was no technology to them and the Doctor couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling, that she would find her eye sockets empty underneath. She sat in a sort of rocking chair by an open fire, her posture, ailment and well worn clothes made her look twice the age the Doctor remembered her as.

“Madame Kovarian, this is the Doctor.“ Manton said and gestured for the Doctor to step closer. Madame Kovarian looked in the direction of their voices, her expression concerned but he went on to explain. “I told you about her earlier, she’s from the other side.“

“Hello…“ The Doctor said softly.

“Right, yes of course…“ Madame Kovarian said weakly.

“I was hoping you could help me put some pieces together.“ The Doctor pulled up a chair to sit across from her.

“Just be aware, Doctor, her memory is not what it used to be.“ Manton said gravely.

“Why? What happened?“ The Doctor looked around to him.

“In our last… altercation with the Emperor, things didn’t go so well for us.“ He answered.

“Maybe you could stay? I just need to find out about what happened here, about…“ The Doctor couldn’t help but pity Kovarian, she looked like a shadow of the person she knew.

“Melody?“ Madame Kovarian spoke up, as if plucking a word from thin air.

“Yes, Melody, I need to know about Melody Pond.“ The Doctor leaned forward feeling a wave of reassurance, she did know what she was talking about.

“Such a troubled child, she always was, I tried so hard…“ Madame Kovarian mumbled and the Doctor realised she wasn’t actually answering her question, she was just reminiscing.

“We know you did.“ Manton placed his hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

“Guess some things just don’t go away, those parents…“ Kovarian muttered.

“Amy Pond did this to her.“ Manton explained. “Her eyes…“

“Guess she didn’t take kindly to having her daughter taken from her.“ The Doctor couldn't help but point out. While she couldn’t condone the violence, she could understand the emotions of a grieving mother.

“How do you know about that?“ Manton frowned.

“Happened in my universe, too.“ The Doctor said somewhat numbly. She was struggling to see right and wrong here, there lines were blurry, so she pushed on. “Why did you do it? It’s cruel to take someone child, I thought you’re meant to be the good guys…“

“It’s not quite what you think, Doctor.“ Manton said when it seemed as though Kovarian was unable to respond. “I won’t deny, things were bleak in those days, we were running out of options. We failed with the Pandorica, the last attempt of the remaining powerful and free civilisations…“

“A nameless, terrible thing, soaked in the blood of a billion galaxies…“ The words suddenly had a different ring to them as the Doctor recalled them and a chill ran down her spine. “The most feared being in all the cosmos. And nothing could stop it, or hold it, or reason with it. One day it would just drop out of the sky and tear down your world.“ It seemed in this universe, the legend was in fact true.

“She didn’t have a name in those days, all of existence was trembling, Doctor. They would go from world to world and destroyed and conquered…“ Manton tried his best to explain but his words failed him.

“It didn’t start with Gallifrey then?“ The Doctor realised.

“It ended with Gallifrey.“ Madame Kovarian whispered.

“And River…“ The Doctor leaned forward, pushing on, she needed to know.

“We’re not proud of it, we never planned for it to happen… things were coming to a head at Demons Run, it was our last big stand… there was a fight like you’ve never seen…“ Manton seemed to shudder at the memory of it.

“There was blood everywhere…“ Kovarian’s voice was weak. It was as if she was jumping from one painful memory to the next.

“Amy Pond was heavily pregnant at the time but she wouldn’t keep out of it. She went into labour…“ Manton explained.

“And you couldn’t just let an innocent child die…“ The Doctor realised where this was going and immediately regretted assuming them guilty of the same things as their counter parts.

“Of course not.“ Manton gave her a sad smile and the Doctor concluded:

“So you saved her.“

“I just couldn’t bare to leave her with those people…“ Madame Kovarian spoke up, sounding stronger, more like herself. It was as if this was something she was sure of. “Growing up amongst that violence…“

“We did what we could.“ Manton added.

“And you realised she was special… the perfect assassin to…“ The Doctor carried on.

“And she wanted to help us in the end.“ Manton had to point out, as if to justify it. “She grew up amongst us, of course she learned of what we were dealing with. She always had a wild… violent… streak, she needed no encouragement from us.“ He smiled a sad smile. “And yes, we’re not proud of it but we thought, yes, maybe, this was the way, the only way to stop them… their best friend’s child, a cruel twist of fate but…“

“But she fell in love with them…“ The Doctor sighed and she didn’t know whether to laugh of cry. “Of course she did. Nature over nurture… River Song and the Doctor… some things seem to be inevitable, no matter the timeline or universe.“ It was an incredibly romantic thought, that no matter where they started, who they were, how they were raised, they would always find each other. But it sounded like this River had been given everything, had been brought up right and chosen to fight for what’s right on her own account… and then turned her back on it all and for what? Was it power or was it love? Were people like the Emperor or her even capable of the latter?

“Manton?“ They were interrupted when a young man burst in. “They’re here.“

“Who is.“ Manton asked in alarm, meeting him halfway.

“The guards.“ The young man answered and his heart sank. They had had less time than expected.

“Doctor, you need to…“ He turned but only to find that she was gone already.

[goldenretriever-nicknelson]

Angst prompt: peter protects you but gets seriously hurt and you blame yourself

Why are my Peter blurbs always so long? haha. Anyway I hope you enjoy anon! 

Word count: 1.1k 

Warnings: angst, mentions of blood and injury, shootings but also some fluffy fluff fluff, idealised avengers world (everyone lives and the tower), also I know Peter’s old suit got blown up or whatever but they didn’t in this one

You knew it was a bad idea. 

The mission details were clear; get in, get the info and get out but you had different ideas. You had spotted him, the guy you had been chasing for months and you couldn’t let him slip away, not again. 

“Y/n?!” 

You could hear Peter calling after you as Steve gave the orders to clear out but you kept running. Peter sighed before following after you, watching as you cornered one of the guys from the deal. His spidey sense was alerting him of danger as he came closer. 

“Y/n.” He spoke quietly but loud enough so you could hear him. The guy turned towards Peter and readied his gun. 

“Aw your little boyfriend came to save you?” The guy laughed maniacally, the scar of your last encounter still visible on his cheek. “How sweet.” He mocked. 

“Give it up. You should know that you’re not going to win.” 

“Against you two?” He laughed again, your stomach churning slightly with anger. He was right, your team was gone but he didn’t know how strong you and Peter were. 

“What’s the plan?” Peter said through half-closed lips. You smiled at Peter before running towards the guy, ready to fight. “I guess we’re winging this.” 

Peter followed you before noticing the guy press the trigger on his gun before you could clock it. The gun fired straight towards you. “Y/n!” 

Without even thinking Peter dived in front of you, taking the bullet which went through his stomach. He fell down in front of you, groaning in pain. “Shit.” 

“Peter!” You gasped and leaned down, cupping his face in your hands that was quickly turning pale. You heard the guy laugh again, mocking you before attempting to run away. Luckily, Peter with what remained of his strength webbed him to the wall. 

You smiled before looking back to Peter, a tear escaping from your eye. “I-I thought your suit was bulletproof?!” 

“It’s being upgraded…” Peter spluttered, coughing harshly before catching his breath. “Had to improvise.” You noticed he was wearing his old red and blue suit that he kept as a spare, a dark patch of blood where the wound was. You put pressure on it and he groaned.

You shook your head and quickly pressed the distress signal so the team would know. “It’s okay, I’m getting help Pete.” Peter nodded, his eyes slipping closed. “No, no stay with me please.” You held his face with your free hand and tried to keep him distracted. 

Guilt was wracking your whole body but you knew Peter was in more pain than you were. 

It felt like a lifetime before Tony arrived even though you knew it had only been a matter of minutes. “Thank god! Tony I-”

“You can explain later, let’s focus on getting you two out of here.” He spoke quickly, looking at Peter and getting Friday to read his vitals. He picked Peter up carefully as you followed closely behind to where the rest of the team were waiting.

“Get him to the tower, we’ll make sure the idiot in webbing doesn’t get away.” 

You nodded and stayed with Peter the entire way, holding his hand. He squeezed as tightly as he could before he passed out. You panicked and sobbed without even fully noticing how much you were crying, your body felt numb. 

As soon as you arrived at the tower, Peter was quickly taken away and you hurried to keep up. Nat stole you away, saying she needed help identifying the guy you had caught. 

“But Peter- I need to stay-”

“He’s in the best hands okay?” She nodded and led you away from where they had taken Peter. You looked back over your shoulder until you could no longer see the room.  

It was an hour or so before you could see Peter. Everyone had left the room now and it was just you and him. He looked so pale in the bed as he slept peacefully, various machines hooked up to him. The guilt had built up to form a tight knot in your chest, tears building up in your eyes again as you looked at the floor. 

You tried to wipe them away before Peter’s small voice spoke up.

“Hey pretty girl.” 

You looked up and gave a weak smile before wrapping Peter in a hug. “You’re okay!” 

Peter gave a small laugh before coughing. “Yeah i’m good.” You pulled back and sniffled, wiping your face before Peter took your free hand.

A small silence stretched between the both of you. Peter could tell something was wrong so he squeezed your hand encouragingly. You met his gaze and gulped, hand shaking in his.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Pete.” 

“Hey it’s okay Y/n-” He squeezed your hand again, trying to give you his best smile.

“No it isn’t! You got shot because of me!” You cried, pulling back and wrapping your arms around yourself. Peter sighed sympathetically and tried to sit up, groaning a little in pain which only made you feel worse. 

“Y/n, look at me.” You bit your lip as you met his gaze again and took a deep breath. “I’m okay and Dr Banner said it would heal by tomorrow.” You sniffled and took his hand as he reached out to you again, nodding. 

“Thank you for saving me.” You smiled and squeezed his hand, making Peter blush cutely. 

“Anytime princess.” 

You paused at the new pet name and blushed as deeply as Peter did when he realised what he’d said. “I mean- um-”

“I like it.” You smiled wide and sat on the edge of his bed, your heart racing as the knot in your chest eased. Peter smiled back and ducked his head down to his chest. “And I like you.” 

Peter looked back up in surprise, his big brown eyes shot open wide. It was clear he was trying to make sense of what you had just said. You giggled as he furrowed his brows. 

“I like like you Peter.” 

Peter’s smile was brighter than you had ever seen as he lifted your hand up to kiss it with a small blush. “I like like you too. Very much.” You couldn’t keep the smile off of your face as you squeezed his hand again before Peter’s fell.

“What’s wrong?” 

“It-it’s just I… um- I want to kiss you but I can’t…” Peter tried to lean forward before groaning in pain slightly. You giggled before leaning forward towards him and cupping his face. Your lips ghosted over his before finally landing on them and kissing him. 

The kiss was soft as were Peter’s lips and it was perfect. It didn’t last long but you both had the widest smiles as you pulled back. 

Meanwhile, the rest of the team were trading money as Nat and Tony won the bet. “We knew they’d have to confess eventually.” 

My taglist is being updated!

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[etherealwaifgoddess]

One In A Million - Chpt.8

Summary: The three of you settle into your new lives together as the inevitable draft day draws near. 

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! This chapter is super short and I’m sorry for that but I really couldn’t make it any longer if I’d tried. It’s a doozy though. Hang on to your hats darlings! XOXO - Ash

Chapter Eight

March is almost over when you finally find a place. It’s a cute little ground floor apartment over in Cobble Hill with big windows and a tiny patch of grass out back for a yard. Just right for the newly minted Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. Steve dreams of sitting outside to paint and Bucky promises to grill your dinners all summer long. Your commute is longer now that you’re not in Brooklyn Heights but it’s manageable and you don’t mind since it means Bucky’s commute is shorter to the docks over in Red Hook. Steve gives up his job at the grocery store and takes a position at a nearby newspaper helping to draw copies of ads. The pay isn’t as good but he’s happier and between the three of you, you get by just fine. 

April comes and you want to enjoy the warmer weather and settling into your lives together, but Bucky has less than a month left before he’s drafted and you’re heartsick at the thought. You try not to let it get you down, pouring yourself into the little garden patch you’ve started out back instead. You’re tending to your tiny pea vines when Steve gets home with a slam of your screen door. 

You join him in the kitchen, worried when you see his glowering expression. “What’s wrong?” 

Steve slaps his hand down on the counter top, frustrated. “I’m never gonna join the army.” 

“Another 4F?” you guess, “You’re gonna break Bucky’s heart.” 

“Worse.” he grits out, taking another long drink of water from his glass. “They caught me this time. Had all of my files spread out on the Captain’s desk. I could have been arrested, they told me as much. The guy was nice but he doesn’t get it, he can’t. He told me this was my only warning. If I get caught again they’ll lock me up. Said he couldn’t blame me for trying but I needed to accept things for what they were.” 

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” you pull him into your arms, letting his anger burn off until the sadness pours from him like waves. You’re still holding him when Bucky comes in quietly behind you. You look up when you smell the familiar scent of saltwater that clings to him after a hard day’s work. He doesn’t ask, he just curls himself around Steve, holding on to comfort his partner. 

“I won’t try again, Buck.” Steve says, finally breaking the silence. “I love you and Rose too much to risk getting locked up. I’m sorry.” 

Bucky turns Steve around to face him, leaving you to rub his narrow shoulders. “Don’t you ever apologize for doing what you believe is right. That’s part of who you are, Stevie, and I love you. I’m glad you’re done trying but I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way you wanted.” 

Steve nods and holds onto Bucky tightly for a minute. 

“Why don’t you two go sit in the living room and I’ll run down the block to get us sandwiches for dinner?” you offer. 

“It was my night to cook.” Bucky frowns. 

“You have something more important to take care of tonight.” you shoot a meaningful glance at Steve and Bucky nods in agreement. “I’ll be back in a few.” 

That night you and Bucky are extra attentive to Steve, helping him work through the sadness and loss he’s dealing with. He tries to brush it off but you know he’s hurting. Giving up is something Steve Rogers never learned how to do and you can’t imagine the toll this is taking on him. You quietly hope that this set back doesn’t prevent him from meeting Erskine when the time comes but you have to have faith that it’ll happen the way it should.

After a few weeks in your new place, Bucky invites his parents and sisters down for Easter. He claims it’s because you and Steve have your heart set on hosting the first holiday in your new home. It’s really because Bucky wants you to meet his family and to show off your new place. You and Winifred Barnes hit it off from the second she walks through your door. You wish you could tell her how much you love her son, what an amazing partner he is to you and Steve. You settle for the friendship version of your affections, just as he and Steve have been doing their whole lives. It’s harder than you expected but you try and focus on being a good host and loving wife to Steve. You only have to slip away once to cry quietly in the bathroom, heartbroken for your boys who can’t live their lives out in the open. It makes you want to say timelines be damned and snatch the pair of them back into the future with you. 

The day of the draft is coming, quicker than any of you would like. Bucky had to re-register when you moved, putting his name back into the lottery you already know he’s going to win. He gets quieter in the days before the announcement, a little more withdrawn. He holds you and Steve tighter at night, tells you he loves you more frequently too. Steve worries by throwing himself into this art. He leaves sketches of you and Bucky all around the apartment for you to find and pack away in a hat box for safe keeping. 

The whole world seems on edge the closer draft day comes. Everyone has someone to worry over it seems. You kiss Bucky just a little longer that morning before he leaves for work. “It’ll be okay no matter what.” you promise him. “We’ll get through it together.” 

“At least I know you and Stevie have each other if I have to go.” he tells you quietly. Your heart aches knowing you won’t. Your jump point is shortly after when he’ll be reporting for basic. The three of you will be separated and all alone, the way history is meant for it to be. 

You can barely sit still at work waiting for the announcement over the radio. You have Bucky’s number written on a scrap of paper in your pocket. The girls in your pool are all worried about their husbands/ boyfriends/ brothers, and you sit huddled together praying when President Roosevelt’s voice comes over the radio. You can’t breathe when he starts calling out numbers, waiting for Bucky’s to be pulled. It’s for the best, it needs to happen, it already has happened technically. And then it’s over. Clara two desks over is wailing, her brother’s number was called. You sit stone still, staring at the piece of paper in your hand that has a number that wasn’t called. 

You convince yourself you wrote it down wrong and fake sick to get sent home early. You race across the bustling city to get to Bucky, needing to comfort him and prove to yourself you did write it down wrong. Because Bucky Barnes was drafted into the US Army. He became a sergeant and was deployed to Azzano where he was taken by HYDRA and given a version of the serum. The same serum that Steve Rogers is given by Dr. Erskine to become Captain America. The history lessons fly through your mind like mantras as you hurry to get to the docks. 

Bucky is standing with a group of men when you find him, his face grim. Relief washes over you that the timeline is intact, followed by the ache that you’ll be losing him to a hard life that no one deserves. Bucky steps away from the group to pull you aside.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” you tell him, tears in your eyes.

“For what?” he asks, confused.

“Your number… It was called. Right?”

“No, darlin’. I’m fine! You must’ve written it down wrong. I lucked out again.”

“But your face, you looked…”

“Tim got called, he’s a good man and a fine worker. I’m okay, Rose. I’m not going anywhere.” 

You’re at a loss for words and Bucky just holds you close, assuming you’re relieved and happy. You want to be happy, you want to go home and celebrate with Steve that your little family gets to stay together. But the world feels like an unfamiliar place now. You look around taking in the sights you know by heart but no longer connect with. It’s a strange new time you’re living in now. A world where Bucky Barnes doesn’t go off to war. Where he doesn’t get captured and almost die. Where he isn’t brainwashed and tortured for seventy years. Possibly where Captain America never exists. 

Oh god, what have you done. 

Tag list! @wolfarrowepz​

[vaguewrites]

The Morning After

I wrote a sequel to my Watch Dogs fic because I’m a horrible monster who can’t be stopped. Lots of swearing, mentions of smut and Aiden/Defalt ahead.

An alarm jolts him awake, the shrill buzzing right in his ears. For a few seconds Defalt doesn’t know where he is. He’s tangled up in sheets that aren’t his, there’s none of his posters or monitors on the walls and where there should be his closet there’s a door that leads into a bathroom. He sits up and pain shoots up his back and he grunts, falling back against the bed. There’s warmth next to him. A figure that groans and rolls over to grab the buzzing thing, a phone, and shuts off the alarm before tossing it aside. It’s Pearce.

He’s naked next to Pearce, in Pearce’s bed, in that shitty motel Pearce likes to hang out in, in Pearce’s bed. Because they fucked. First in Defalt’s hideout and then here, in a proper bed with pillows for Defalt to shove his face into to hide his own stupid high pitched moans. No wonder Defalt can’t feel his own fucking ass.

“Morning,” Pearce says, rubbing at his eyes, and Defalt doesn’t know why he’s bothering to make small talk. Isn’t this where one of them has to get up and get the fuck out? And by one of them, he means himself since this isn’t his place. Where are his clothes anyway?

“Hey,” he replies, and his voice is hoarse and raspy. Probably because he’d sucked Pearce off before crying on his dick like one of those twinks from the bad pornos. “What time is it?”

“Eight.”

Defalt groans. “Jesus fucking Christ, Pearce, why the fuck did you set your alarm that early?”

Pearce chuckles. It’s almost weird hearing him laugh. He almost doesn’t seem like the kind who does. Defalt has to look at him to make sure it is actually him and not some weird body double. He’s stretched out on the bed, one arm tucked under his pillow, staring up at the ceiling fan. He’s a hell of a lot more muscular than Defalt expected, but it’s not the kind you build up in a gym, but the kind you get from a lot of physical labour. Such as running around Chicago, climbing buildings and fucking up other people’s shit. Pearce is sturdy, thick and he’s got a light dusting of hair on his chest and stomach. There are scars too, some look like they came from bullets, some are pale and silvery from age and others pink and raw, probably a few weeks old. Defalt’s hands itch to touch him, to wander over his bulky frame and feel along each scar and hard curve of muscle. But he doesn’t.

“I didn’t think I was going to be up all night,” Pearce says. He throws Defalt a look. Defalt would almost call it mischievous but that doesn’t feel like the right word for Pearce. “You feeling okay?”

Defalt snorts. “You’re not that fucking big Pearce.”

“Not what you said last night.”

Defalt swats at him and Pearce catches his wrist. He thinks he’s just going to drop it but then Pearce pulls his hand in and kisses his knuckles. Defalt stills as he watches him. Pearce’s lips are soft and plump and his stubble scrapes his skin but Defalt kinda likes it this way. “What’re you doing?” He asks when he finally gets his voice to work. It feels like he’s swallowed cotton.

Pearce raises a brow. “Knitting. What does it look like?”

“Don’t you want me gone?” Defalt says before he can stop himself.

“Do you want to leave?” Pearce challenges him, then drops his hand and Defalt suddenly feels cold. He doesn’t know what to say to that. Does he want to leave? Normally when he hooks up with guys it’s always a comfy no strings attached deal where they both know it’s just a quick fuck and nothing more. He normally doesn’t sleep over, or let them sleep over. One of them is always gone after it’s over. With Pearce though, it’s different. He doesn’t know how or why it just is. Defalt could very easily just get up now and throw on his clothes and fuck off but he doesn’t. He stays in the bed, curled next to Pearce and chances throwing his arm over the man’s chest. Pearce doesn’t hesitate to pull him in, his rough, calloused hands smoothing over Defalt’s back.

“No,” Defalt says, because he feels he should probably say something.

Aiden kisses the side of his forehead. “Then don’t.”

Defalt rests his head in the crook of Aiden’s neck. He’s so warm it’s almost unreal, like a human furnace. Aiden holds him, rubbing his back until Defalt’s eyes grow heavy and he drifts back into sleep.

The next time he wakes up there’s no harsh ringing in his ears, but there’s also no Aiden in the bed with him. He sits up, winces, then glances down at a messily scrawled note left beside him.

“Sorry, T-Bone had a job, lunch later?”

Fucking T-Bone, Defalt thinks, tossing the note aside and gets up for a shower. He feels better after washing, then notices the amount of bruises and bite marks Aiden left on him, the bitch. The biggest one is on his neck. A deep purple colour that’s not gonna fade for a while. Defalt presses it and hisses as it stings a little. His shirt and hoodie don’t cover it but, hell, Clara and T-Bone are going to figure out they’re fucking eventually so there’s no point hiding it. And since Defalt doesn’t exactly want to spend the rest of the day cooped up in Aiden’s shitty motel room he decides he may as well head to their bunker.

That’s where he finds Clara, hunched over her laptop and typing away. She only spares him a glance, her perfectly drawn on eyebrow raised at his disheveled appearance.

“You look like shit,” she says, “I was trying to get through to you last night but you weren’t answering.”

“Yeah,” Defalt tries to hide his limp as he moves to sit beside her on one of the spare chairs. “Had stuff to do. Working on the next album. I’m behind as it is.”

Which is kinda true. That was what he was doing before Aiden railed him against his desk.

“You know if you’re struggling with work stuff you can take a back seat. I don’t think anyone will mind. T-Bone definitely won’t say shit.”

“Ah, I’m not worried about whatever the fuck T-Bone says,” Defalt leans back in the chair, one leg thrown over the other despite the ache in his lower back. “Where’s he at anyway?”

“The Loop. He and Aiden are following a lead. Though I think there’s more to it. T-Bone didn’t seem all that thrilled with Aiden this morning but I don’t know why. Which is weird because he adores Aiden.”

She doesn’t get to say anything more as the door slides open and Aiden and T-Bone step through. T-Bone looks as though he’s biting his tongue, his brows are furrowed but when he meets Defalt’s eyes he quickly looks away. That’s not unusual. He doesn’t meet his eyes often, even now when they’re supposed to be over the past. Well, over it is a kinda loose term. They got drunk together, Defalt screamed at him about his brother and how T-Bone was a fucking murderer and then they ugly cried in each other’s arms while T-Bone said he was sorry over and over. It’s obviously not fixed everything right away but it’s something, a start at healing. They’re not fighting as often at least.

“Jay, I need you,” Aiden says, hands shoved in pockets and voice gruff. It’s a little surreal seeing him being his regular stand-offish asshole self again after this morning, but Defalt shakes it off. They’re meant to be more “professional” now anyway.

“Alright. Text you later Clara,” Defalt says as he stands and Clara offers him a half wave. T-Bone watches as they leave and Defalt gives him an odd look because he can practically feel the tension rolling from him in waves. What kind of bitch fit did he and Aiden have?

He doesn’t find out until they’re halfway to the Mad Mile.

“He says I’m going to drag you down with me,” Aiden says. He’s gripping the steering wheel hard enough his knuckles are white.

Defalt frowns. “Do you care?”

“Yeah.”

Defalt doesn’t know what to say to that. He squirms in his seat, watching the buildings speed past. Something ugly and cold is curling in his chest. “So… This is a break up? Could’ve just said so before we got in the car.”

“I’m better at talking when I’m focused on something else,” Aiden says, “But if you want to get out I’ll stop us somewhere.”

“So you do want to break up,” Defalt grits his jaw. He’s not sure why he cares so much. He rests his head on his hand and stares out the window and tries not to think about the heat behind his eyes that threaten to spill over.

“I want to know what you want. I asked you this morning if you wanted to leave and you said no. I’m giving you that option again. I’m not the easiest guy to get along with, I know, and I’m definitely not the easiest to date. But I like you a lot, have for a while, and I’d like to try and make it work. I just don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck with me.”

“Stuck with you?”

“He brought up our age difference as well. How you might not want to settle down at all and I’m forcing you into it. How I’ll expect too much of you too soon. I don’t want to do that, Jay.”

“Sounds like you’re letting him do all the talking for me,” Defalt says.

“That’s why I’m talking to you now. What do you want?”

Defalt shifts again. What the hell does he want? He’d spent years focusing on his music and computers because it was what he was good at. He didn’t plan to make a career out of it, it just happened. He thought he wanted to kill T-Bone, wanted to make him suffer like he had. Only it turned out T-Bone had been living his own personal hell for years. So, in the end vengeance wouldn’t do jack shit. When it comes to dating, he was never with anyone for too long. He had a lot of demons and his boyfriends never had a lot of patience for it. Usually he was the one dumped. When he got famous for his music he couldn’t make time to date so he just hooked up with random guys when he could. But now… Hell, he still doesn’t fucking know. He’s liked Pearce too, he just never assumed the guy was into other guys. Last night was a huge fucking surprise.

“You,” he blurts out, and he almost misses the twitch of Aiden’s lips, “I mean, I’m willing to give this a shot if you are. Dating I mean.”

Aiden glances at him, deep green eyes full of so much fondness and Defalt’s not used to getting a look like that from anyone.

“Yeah. I can give it a shot,” Aiden says. “So long as you promise not to punch T-Bone when we get back.”

Defalt scoffs and folds his arms over his chest. “How’d he find out anyway?”

“He asked where you were because Clara couldn’t get a hold of you. I said you were with me.”

“Ah.”

The rest of the drive is in silence until they pull up to a bar. Defalt doesn’t get why they’re here until he sees Aiden looking at him expectantly and then he remembers the note.

“Oh, you lied about a job just to get me out for a date, Pearce?” Defalt can’t help the twitch of his lips.

“Technically I didn’t lie. I never said what I needed you for,” Aiden replies.

“Smart ass.”

“Thanks.”

Yeah, Defalt never thought much about what he wanted from life, other than causing another man pain. It’s almost bizarre to think how empty he’s always been, and just either never noticed or got too used to it. It feels like he’s woken up from some bad dream, or snapped back into reality after being trapped in his own head for so long. He’d thought he'd been living before, but now he realises he was just going through the motions, functioning but not attached to anything. It’s a stark contrast to now, where he feels so at home with Aiden, Clara and, fuck, even T-Bone, and he thinks about stuff outside of work and hacking and death. He doesn’t feel like himself anymore but maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe he had to be broken before he could fix himself back together. Maybe, as sappy as it sounds, Aiden’s the missing piece he needed.

[shcnley]

╰ ✧ ZOEY DEUTCH. MUSE SEVEN. BISEXUAL. ❞ say hello to the s club’s very own SHANLEY EVANS! a TWENTY-THREE year old CISFEMALE that goes by SHE/HER pronouns. i heard they were voted MOST TALKATIVE in high school, which says a lot about them because they’re very VIVACIOUS and DEPENDABLE, but watch out for their IMPULSIVE and STUBBORN side as well. i hope they’re ready to take a break from being a TEACHER and finally get this summer started! 

hiiii friendssss, i’m gigi!!! and here’s my lil french fry lovin’ bb, shanley. sooo excited to plot w/ you allllll <333 

B A S I C S

full name: shanley nicole evans gender: cisfemale pronouns: she/her sexuality: bisexual age: 23 years old birthday: january 27th 1997 birthplace: NYC currently living: chicago, il relationship status: single zodiac: aquarius sun, virgo moon, leo rising occupation: teacher ( 1st grade )

I N S P O

characters: jessica day ( new girl ), lorelai gilmore ( gilmore girls ), harper ( set it up ), summer roberts ( the o.c. ), alexis rose ( schitt’s creek ), & amy march ( little women ). music: click this sentence for playlist !!  pinterest: click this sentence for pinterest !! 

B A C K G R O U N D

kso, i’m going to be honest. shanley had an extremely normal and happy childhood. her parents met in high school, fell in love and were married after graduating college. her father ( theodore evans / think sandy cohen from the oc ) is an executive vice president of an insurance company while her mother ( clara evans / think kristina braverman from parenthood ) is a stay-at-home mom. born and raised in new york city. she has an older sister ( haddie evans / think prue halliwell from charmed ) who is three years older, she has an extremely close relationship with her. shanley is obsessed with family, tbh. she tells them just about everything. they had dinner together every night and talk about their days, have inside jokes, go on family vacations every summer ( before sclub summers ). overall, her parents are very loving and supportive, wanting only the best for their daughters. in high school, shanley was convinced she wasn’t like other girls *pUkeS*. she was very outgoing. like she literally made friends with anyone and everyone. a friendly face; probably the student who showed the new students around. it was rare to see shanley upset or rude to anyone unless she was defending someone. she had good grades (our shanny was v advanced), kind of a teacher’s pet but like still got her seat moved or sent to the hallway because she wouldn’t stop talking. i almost made her superlative most likely to say something stupid because like that’s her too. she was on the yearbook committee, played volleyball, and was a part of the student government. if she wasn’t at school or home, you would most likely find her with arlo, which whew. a story there. when it came to the sclub, she spent whatever free time she had left with them. encouraging all the trouble; shanley will do ANYTHING you tell her to and probably doesn’t think about it. don’t give her dumbass a dare because she will do it. sorry , i forgot what i was going to say; let’s change topics. NO i remembered, lets carry on. she’s always up for a good time. don’t hesitate to invite shan...even if you don invite her...she’ll invite herself SO. fast forward to college, shanley was accepted to loyola university and moved to chicago. how excite!!!!  kso she always knew she wanted to go away for school yanno be miss independent thats why they love her BUT college life wasn’t easy, not in the beginning at least. she was going through a breakup and lost herself for a while. became cold and detached; honestly after the break up her routine was to go to class then back to her dorm, study, cry and repeat. she was only friends with her roommates till finally they forced her to go out and deal with her heartbreak the “””normal””” college way aka getting stupid drunk. *tiktok vc* it izz what it izz. joined a sorority then dropped it because it was too culty for her. she got a part time job at insomnia cookies. slowly became high school shanley again. her spirits were especially lifted when she began student teaching. the kids made her so happy. they also proved to her that teaching was what she was meant to do. next thing ya know, four years are up and our girl has a degree in elementary education.  no one probably asked but her love life !!! like mentioned earlier shanley is single. she was convinced she was going to end up marrying arlo, maybe not right after high school like people assumed but eventually. they just connected on another level so when he ended things after their first year of college, shan was crushed. but if you’re curious, she's still got the hots for arlo. are we surprised tho? no? exactly. thanks for reading, pals. dsjkn okay i’ll add more. fine. so she hooks up with people and goes on dates but no one sticks. she doesn’t want them to stick either. she knows she had that like one great love and doubts she’ll ever feel it again so she just prefers to be on her own. she don’t need no man !!!!!!!! except for one...but mind ur business. so like what is shanley nicole evans up to now? well, her original plan was to move back home once she had graduated. but she was offered a teaching position in chicago and gladly accepted it. she figured since she loved living in chicago so much and it was at the school where she completed her student teaching; it all felt right for her to stay there. this was a fresh start for her. and she got it!! ya girl moved into a beautiful ( expensive ) apt near lake shore drive, started her own tiktok account where she randomly went viral and fell in love with all her students who she calls her kiddy beans!!

E X T R A !!

has 4 tattoos:       portrait of her dog, on her left calf // why? again obsessed w/ her dog       aquarius symbol,  on her right outer elbow side // zodiac hoe. Is v proud       coffee mug, on her right wrist side // her first tattoo. couldnt think of anything else.       honey bee, back of her arm above elbow // got really drunk, heard a song, thought of arlo, ended up at a shop with friends as a joke and woke up the next morning with it. 8 piercings: 3 each lobe. Industrial ( left ). tragus ( right ). sings when she talks sometimes most of the time speaks in really bad accents; new jersey being her fav is always in a dress...look at her pinterest...all she has is dresses. she likes to show off her legs ok. obsessed with animals ( if she’s not paying attention, its bc she’s thinking about her dog and/or bunnies ), coffee, and junk food. a jonas brothers stan, nick is her favorite brother. shelf is her favorite song. cries whenever she hears when you look me in the eyes ( she sang it to arlo when he took her to their concert ). has a big following on tiktok. on the teacher side. she posts her ootd and weird shit her students have said. sometimes even reenacts scenes from new girl. a reality tv show about birds she sees. its quite entertaining.  potatoes and pasta are her favorite foods. grew up making fairy gardens has a concentration face  dances for no and every reason.especially if she’s excited or beat someone in something. rambles way too much, forgets what she’s talking about mid sentence, attention span of a fruit fly. she has a hammock named bartholomew and she chills on it when she’s sad...so most of this trip. :-)))

welcome 2 the end; gimme all ur plots. i wanna plot with you all. i am down for everything and anything. 

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Hurt, pt. 11 (E.D.)

Summary: Y/N’s in for a surprise. 

Warnings: ANGST, slight fluff, swearing, talk of depression

Word Count: 2900

Hurt - Masterlist

Knocking on Grayson’s office door as she enters, Y/N tilted her head to the left which always meant trouble.

“Silly question, but, um…did you by any chance tell my landlord that I won’t be returning to the apartment?” She kept her voice airy and sweet, but there was nothing sweet about the subtle glare she had sent his way.

“You know the apartment, right? The one I got because I had no home to come back to, right? The one I hadn’t gone to because the pregnancy got a little iffy so I stayed with you until I got cleared which happened a week ago and now I wanted to go home and found all my stuff is gone and my lease is up?”

Grayson swallowed thickly as he stared at her, wondering what excuse he could come up with so quickly that would save him from the hurricane she could turn into at any given moment. After all, if this was a cartoon, he’d see steam coming out of her head by now.

“Figured it would be safer for you to stay with us until birth. Clara loves having you around and you’re wasting money on a place you’re never at.” Grayson shrugged, hoping that careless looking gesture won’t result in his imminent death.

“That’s very thoughtful of you…if only your brother wasn’t going to come home and be in a shouting distance away from me while I’m trying to figure my life out!” She closed the door behind her, walking over to the chair across from his desk. She needed to settle down because her backaches had decided to start early on. She didn’t want to think about what it would feel like once the babies actually grew bigger.

“Look, Ethan isn’t looking to make your life harder. He just wants a chance. The man who broke your heart isn’t the same man you’re going to see when he gets out, okay?” Grayson sighed as she dropped her gaze. She always does that when Ethan is mentioned. Grayson thought it to be a form of self-defense, a way to tune out the world and center herself. Perhaps it was also a way to hide the emotion in her eye at the sound of his name for her eyes always betrayed her.

“I’m asking you like a brother, please give him a chance to prove he won’t hurt you again.” Grayson felt strongly about Ethan’s way of doing things in the past, but he swore an oath to himself to try and rectify things with him. It’s never just about who fights with you side by side during the battle, it’s also about those who stay to help clean the battlefield and Grayson promised himself to do both.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t see him again. Or talk to him. Because I want to. I need to. But there are things you can’t jump into and for me, this is one of those things.” Sighing, Y/N readjusted herself in the chair, her previous position no longer helping with the back pain.

“You know I’m sort of seeing someone, right?” Grayson’s heart dropped. He assumed she might like someone, but for her to admit to it officially was bad. It raised every single red flag in his mind.

“Well then, if you’ve found your missing treasure, shall we go? I hate to hurry you, but I really have to get back to the hospital and I’m sure you would rather be anywhere but here.” Edward smiled softly, his subtle jabs didn’t go unnoticed despite how he tried to make it all sound.

“This is my home, Ed. Plus, I’m staying with my brother in law across from this plot, so I’m gonna stay a little longer, okay?” She told herself she would be honest with Edward and she kept that promise so far. She didn’t feel quite ready to leave the house because not even a minute inside, she had felt herself relax. Some of the memories haunted her, but she still felt right. Although, the house didn’t feel quite like home without Ethan.

“You know I didn’t mean anything bad by what I said, right?”

“I mean, he’s aware of my situation and we’re taking it so slow that I haven’t even kissed him. It’s like…friendship with potential to be something more and I want to explore that.” Clasping her hands together in her lap, she averted her gaze to where her wedding ring used to sit. The empty place was still something she had to get used to and she didn’t deny it or lie to herself about it anymore. She loves Ethan Dolan and yes, he hurt her and yes, she still wants him in her life. She isn’t ashamed to admit it.

“Is it that doctor?” Grayson’s voice is gruff, his body stiff and Y/N knows he’s not too fond of the idea.

“Yes. But that’s…Edward knows how I feel about Ethan. He knows I’m pregnant and about to swell up like a whale. He knows all that, but he looks past it. For the first time in a while, I feel seen. I feel wanted. So, please, don’t make me out to be the bad guy. Don’t judge me on how I choose to fix what Ethan broke.” She didn’t get to finish before Grayson stood up so abruptly his chair fell back and startled Y/N into a gasp.

“I know. But you do know I’m still very much married and I’m not sure that’s going to change, right?” Y/N countered, moving closer to Edward’s tall frame. He nodded, biting his lip hard enough for Y/N to feel her heart clench for him. She didn’t want to hurt him, but if he keeps insisting he is fine with her past, she considered her hands to be clean.

“Much aware. Thanks.” His dry response had made her sigh, heavily so. She liked Edward. She enjoyed his company. She found his mind just as sexy as his body and she wanted to be close with him. Closer.

“I hate saying it, but I’m sure you’re aware of my attraction to you too. And it’s okay if it’s not mutual because being friends is just fine with me as well because I’m far from ready to actively date someone, but I think you should know. If you feel the same way, you need to know I’m not ready for serious feelings and all that relationship stuff. I have my plate full with the pregnancy and the feelings I still have for Ethan. It’s not something that goes away overnight.” Tired of rambling while he just stared at her with his big, blue eyes, Y/N stopped to take a proper breath. She expected him to have so much to say in response, especially since she had openly admitted that he’d never be a priority in her life. Her children come first…Ethan second. At least for now he does. But Edward had just one thing to say and he said it with a smile.

“You like me?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to be so dramatic.” Grayson chuckled as he walked around his desk and lowered himself to his knees before Y/N. Taking her hands into his, he spoke.

“Stay with us until birth. It will give you and Ethan a chance to heal at your own pace and the rest of us peace of mind. Mum offered you to stay with her, but you know how she can get.” Grayson raised an eyebrow as he remembered all the ways his mother goes overboard when one of them isn’t feeling good and with Y/N and three grandchildren in mind? She’d drive Y/N crazy within a week.

“Okay, okay. But no more waking auntie up before eleven o'clock, okay? I’m on a leave and I need to sleep before these tiny humans take over my life!”

Agreeing with Grayson, Y/N had returned to their home.

Turning around, she looked back at her old house longingly. Ever since she went back to see the ring Bianca mentioned, Y/N had felt the house calling for her. While she could fight it on most days, Y/N had found herself drawn today. Siren's song was a joke in comparison to the magnetic pull she felt in her heart, her legs moving closer to it on their own accord.

She couldn’t come inside. Not when her heart felt like it moved to her throat and her breathing turned erratic at the idea. No. Y/N decided on something she deemed a lesser evil – she decided to sit on the porch swing she had been observing fondly for so long.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY DID THIS FOR ME!” Y/N cried out as she nearly tackled Ethan to the ground in her glee, her eyes spilling tears like a dam broke. She rarely cried, but this gesture – this kind, selfless gesture motivated by pure, unadulterated love – this was worth crying for.

“Don’t cry.” Ethan’s voice turned small and soft, gentle like a lover’s touch and she couldn’t help but cry harder at the sweetness in his tone. She always knew his tough act was a just that – an act, but when he would drop the act around her, she couldn’t quite help herself from falling deeper in love. Ethan was always so incredibly kind, tender, loving and she never knew how he was known as the intimidating twin. What she knew of him could never come close to it. Ethan she knows is as intimidating as a kitten.

“Do you not like the color? Or placement? I can change it all!” He continued, his voice drawing a smile to her face. To be so loved by someone like she felt loved by Ethan Dolan, it’s truly a blessing. She had thought herself to be unlovable as she was growing up. Y/N was never the type the guys would lose their minds over, or ask to the dance, or facetime until 3 am. Y/N was the overlooked girl, the forgettable kind…the girl guys approached solely to ask if she could hook them up with her friends. But with Ethan? She was the only girl in the world.

“No, no, no.” She chuckled, sniffling in her attempt to speak up.

“Don’t change a damn thing. I love it and I love you and I cannot put into words just how much this swing means to me.”

The swing she had once adored felt like a teasing ghost. It stood witness to every kiss, every caress, every moment that had mattered between her and Ethan that she had a hard time even looking at it. But she knew it was ridiculous to fear an object or a memory. In the spirit of changing, Y/N walked right up to the porch and sat down on the swing. It creaked slightly as she put her weight on it fully, reminding her of the time she asked Ethan to see why it’s creaking and he promised her he’d do it.

Three days later they weren’t even living together anymore.

Closing her eyes, she let the silence of the house calm her down. She wasn’t quite used to the silence, finding it eerie at first because usually one of them was inside blasting music. The silence took some time to get used to, but when she did, Y/N felt at peace.

Until she heard footsteps so near that her heart jumped at the sound.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Ethan bit his lip nervously, standing five feet away from her with a bag thrown over his shoulder. His eyes were dark, but not with lust as they used to be…this was something much deeper. Something she didn’t understand.

“It’s okay. I suppose I’m sort of trespassing.” She smiled, deciding to be kind. She wanted to show him the kindness he showed her when he made this swing. And yes, she knew a lot of the work was done by Grayson, but Ethan tried and that’s all she ever wanted from him. She wanted him to care enough to try.

“You’re not. The house is in both our names, remember?” Ethan kinked his left eyebrow, probably unaware just how much she missed seeing that. She missed his kinked eyebrows and she missed his stupid smirks and his annoyingly beautiful voice. She missed him.

“Wanna sit?” She tapped the spot beside her, the left side where he’d usually sit. She’d read a book and drink her tea, her legs secured in his lap as he watched something on his phone. Sitting like that, in silence, no words needed? That was comfortable. It takes a certain amount of love and understanding for two people to be comfortable enough to sit in silence, knowing their silence doesn’t represent something bad, but a good sign.

Ethan didn’t sit on the porch swing for two months before they split. Unbeknownst to Y/N, he hadn’t taken that seat since she left. The swing felt like a sacred place he never let Bianca or anyone else occupy after.

But he took the seat now, feeling like it’s time to face it all. With her by his side, rightfully so.

“Now…wanna tell me why you look like a kicked puppy? Is this…uh…Is that part of being depressed? Because I only saw your eyes look like that once before and I can’t tell anymore.” She didn’t know how to talk to him anymore. Aware that the last thing he needs from her is to see him as a broken toy she can no longer be open with, she decided to be honest. She couldn’t look at him like someone who needed to be fixed. She wanted to be there for him without coddling him when it’s not necessary. Sometimes, he’ll need her to be brutally honest and sometimes she’ll tell him a little white lie, but she still didn’t know when.

Chuckling, Ethan’s face lit up. He knew she was trying to be nice, supportive. He knew she was nervous too and that he caught her off guard because he was supposed to be home two days ago but stayed a little longer and she didn’t expect to see him here today. He understood she was trying her best and that’s something he could appreciate.

“I was a little scared to come home,” Ethan admits, pressing his palms together before securing his hands between his thighs.

“I’m scared to be that guy again. And this house is like a haunted house for me right now. It doesn’t feel like home without you in it and I’m not saying that to guilt you into anything, I’m just trying to be honest about it.” Ethan clarified, his words ringing truth because Y/N felt the same. She knew exactly what he meant. It’s as if all the colors of the world would fade once she walked inside.

“I feel the same way. It’s not very…hospitable without you.” Moving closer, Y/N debated whether she should lean her head on his shoulder or not. She didn’t want to give him false hope of reconciliation until she was sure of where her heart and head are at. However, she also didn’t know if it would be false hope considering just how badly she wanted to lift her legs into his lap and sit there in silence, just watching each other – studying the changes made in the personalities since they last had a heart to heart conversation. She wanted to learn him all over again, but she was terrified of opening herself up to heartbreak again.

Connecting to Edward was easy – her heart was fond of him, but it didn’t bleed for him like it did for Ethan. Ethan made her vulnerable and to put herself in that position again, it scared the life out of her.

“I’m glad you were here though. It’s a little easier to breathe when I don’t have to face it alone.” Ethan pressed his thighs harder to trap his hands more securely. He felt his hands itch to reach out for Y/N, to just touch her. Aware that might be unwanted, he knew he had to reel it in. So he pressed his thighs tighter.

“I know we’re in shambles right now, but you can count on me if you need me. Okay? And I…I’ll be just over the bridge. Literally, just shout my name and I’ll come, because you’re not alone Ethan. But keep in mind I’m getting bigger and slower and I might need a bit of help, so don’t time me.” She smiled when her words made him giggle. She hadn’t heard his choked giggles in so long that her heart felt like flying once she did.

“I missed you,” Ethan admits, glancing her way to see her reaction and all he saw was a woman who didn’t know how to feel.

“Ethan…” She spoke, stopping herself from saying anything else.

“I wanted you to know. That’s all.” Smiling, he tried not to beg her to stay as she stood up to leave.

Nodding, she walked off the porch only to stop at the last step. Turning to meet his lingering gaze, Y/N had done something she told herself she wouldn’t.

“I missed you too.”

She gave Ethan hope.

Tags: @melodiesforari​​​​​​ @brittttneyyyy​​​​​​ @beautorigin​​​​​​  @dolandolll​​​​​​ @xalayx​​​​​​ @godlydolans​​​​​​ @heyits-claire​​​​​ @peacedolantwins​​​​​ @dolanstwintuesday​​​​​ @accalialionheart​​​​​ @ethanhes​​​​​ @lanadeldolans​​​​​ @ebbach-03​​​​​ @dolangels​​​​​  @xxaamzxx​​​​​ @cutestdolans​​​​​ @yaren-ates​​​​​ @dolansmith​​​​​ @vintagebitttch​​​​​ @primadolangirl​​​​​ @caqsicle​​​​​ @jjustjoy​​​​​ @justordinaryjen​​​​​ @graydolan12​​​​​ @imaginashawnns​​​​​ @graysonslovie​​​​​ @fandomsfeministsandothershit​​​​​ @bdsmdolan​​​​​ @graysavant​​​​​ @ethanspillow​​​​​ @dopedoodes​​​​​ @anything-dolan​​​​​  @sugarfootdolan​​​​​ @joyrivh​​​​​ @reblogserpent​​​​​ @jonesana​​​​​ @emiemille  @herewegoagainandagainandagain​​​​​​ @adventureswithmell

[whatarubberchicken]

Lukadrinette - Part 10

Because I lost all of my bookmarks when I moved to a new computer, and because Tumblr is such a pure, good, well-functioning website, I cannot find most of my posts for this story, so I have finally decided to post it to Ao3. I will leave the original posts as they are here on Tumblr, and if you can find them, great. If not, it’s now listed under:

My Sweet Blueberry Sandwich

(ff.net link to come)

(If anyone has any suggestions for tags, I am more than willing to hear them! I still suck at tagging.)

I will post a chapter a day until we catch back up, but no promises for after that. Hopefully, NoNaWriMo will be good to me this year.

That being said, enjoy! (Nothing too explicit this time but I’m still gonna put it under the cut, and yes, I did write this chapter before “Desperada” came out, so I was laughing REALLY hard during that episode.)

........

Adrien was not pouting, thank you very much.

After all, how could he be? Here he was, with the girl of his dreams and the boy who’d made him question his sexuality, eating thick, hot soup after a day filled with fantastic sex. He was certainly not panicking internally on all the many ways he could’ve screwed this up already, or mentally listing all the things he could buy them to make them let him stay for just one more day, or—

“How long are we gonna play the silent game?” Marinette asked. Adrien’s eyes flew to her face to see her smirking at him as she tore her bread in two.

“I—uh… was too busy eating!” he said quickly, digging into his soup for another bite. “It’s really good!”

The look she and Luka gave him told him he still wasn’t fooling anyone.

“I… um… what do you wanna talk about?” he asked timidly.

“Hmm….” Marinette tapped her lips with her spoon as she pondered. Her eyes lit up. “Celebrity fantasy hook-ups! Who would you want if you could have anyone?”

Are you kidding? I’m kinda living it right now, Adrien thought silently. Out loud he answered, “You guys know I’m a celebrity, right? And that I’ve actually had celebrity hook-ups?”

“Yeah, but not fantasy celebrity hook-ups,” Marinette teased.

“This isn’t fair,” Luka complained. “You already know mine!”

“Huh?” Adrien raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. Luka grinned and pointed at him, then Marinette, and then raised his fingers to his eyes in a blatant imitation of a mask.

“Oh,” Adrien said, ducking his head so they couldn’t see him blush. He had a feeling he’d be donning some sort of Chat Noir costume in the very near future, and honestly, he wasn’t against it. It would certainly be nice to Mari in her spots again….

“Oh, come on,” Marinette pouted. “You’re telling me neither of you have even entertained thoughts of a Jagged Stone/Clara Nightingale threesome?!”

Both boys thought about it and shook their heads.

“Clara’s too perky,” Adrien said, “don’t get me wrong, her flexibility is… amazing. But no, she’d probably try to sing to me while—yeah.” He shook his head again.

Luka snickered. “Note to self, don’t try to sing to Adrien while fucking him,” he said, pretending to write on his hand. Adrien made a face and chucked a piece of bread at him, pleased when his lover caught it in his mouth.

“As for me,” Luka said, swallowing, “Jagged Stone is no-go territory, babe.”

“You were happy enough to meet him,” Marinette said, scowling.

“True. True,” Luka nodded. “He’s been my idol for as long as I can remember. But…,” he winced a bit. “When I was little, my mom… hinted heavily that he was my dad.”

“WHAT?!” Marinette and Adrien both stood up, shocked. Luka held up his hands.

“She wouldn’t confirm anything. And she left that part of my damn birth certificate blank, so there’s no way to know unless I ask him for a paternity test—which I am NOT gonna do,” he added quickly, shaking a finger in Marinette’s direction. She puffed her cheeks at him angrily.

“But—”

“Babe, I am all grown up,” he said, grabbing her hand and rubbing it soothingly. “If I ask him now, the press will catch it, and they’ll make it look like the band is trying to land some sort of favoritism angle. I’m not doing that to them. Especially not now.”

“But, Luka—” Marinette tried again.

“Besides, the test could always come up negative,” he pointed out. “Just let me dream.”

She still looked upset.

“Ugh, now I’m not gonna be able to fantasize about him either,” she pouted, sinking back into her chair.

“Are we doing something wrong, to make you want to fantasize about other guys?!” Adrien exclaimed, also sitting.

“He’s too old for you anyway,” Luka added, winking. “Unless you’ve got a daddy kink you haven’t told me about.”

“Ewww, gross!”

“NOPE!” Adrien said, loudly enough to make them both pause. He held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, guys, but that’s a hard no from me. If you guys are gonna be doing any ‘daddy’ roleplays, I can’t be a part of it. Just—no.” He shuddered.

Marinette wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, I can see why,” she said. Adrien’s hopes rose a little. If anyone could understand just how deep this ‘squick’ went, it would be her.

“Don’t worry, Adrien,” Luka said, nodding at him. “It’s a hard no from me too.”

“No daddy kinks all around,” Marinette agreed, raising her glass high. They sealed the agreement with a toast, clinking their glasses together.

“So, Adrien,” Luka said, looking thoughtful. Adrien’s pulse spiked. “If you wanna—”

“What’s that sound?” Marinette interrupted, looking around.

Adrien and Luka also fell silent, listening. Adrien felt himself flush when he realized his phone was buzzing. He dug it out of the pants Marinette had forced him and Luka to put on after they’d tried to jump her while she was cutting vegetables. (He was personally glad Ladybug’s Lucky Charms had all been innocuous objects. Mari with a weapon was scary!)

The caller ID had him groaning, though.

Erica.

How dare she call him after ghosting him last night and leaving with another man?

“Your girlfriend?” Luka guessed.

“Ex,” Adrien corrected, growling. “I don’t deal with cheaters and she knew it. We were over the moment she left the club without me.” He moved to put the phone back in his pocket.

“Answer it,” Marinette said, exchanging a wicked smirk with Luka. “Put it on speaker.” Adrien blinked at her, then obeyed, feeling a little thrill go through him when they both abandoned their seats to come stand behind him.

“Adrien?!” Erica’s shrill voice filled the air. “Oh my God, why haven’t you been answering your phone?!”

“Because I didn’t notice you called,” he said. It was a lie, he’d seen it when he’d checked his messages earlier, he just hadn’t cared enough to call her back. He gasped. Marinette had just run her fingers through his hair, with extra emphasis on the nails against his scalp.

Oh sweet Jesu! If it had been a hard no from him with those other kinks, THIS was an exultant YES!

“Sorry, sweetie!” Marinette called, to his delight. “We’ve kinda been keeping him busy!” She scratched him again, and Adrien couldn’t hold back his moan.

“Who the hell—”

“Very busy,” Luka added on his other side, deepening his voice a bit and giving Adrien’s earlobe a quick nip. Both those actions sent a jolt right down the pit of his stomach. “We’d like to thank you for letting go of someone with such stamina! We’ve had quite the day!”

On the other end, Erica had gone conspicuously silent. Adrien pulled the phone closer to himself.

“So, uh, yeah,” he said softly, “as I’m sure you already know, we’re through.”

“How dare you!” she shrieked. “After everything I’ve done for you!” Marinette snorted in derision and started massaging his shoulders.

“What?” Adrien laughed, leaning back in his chair to relax against her minstrations. Oh, this was priceless. “What exactly have you ‘done for me?’”

“I—I—”

“Besides leaving me on my own so you can fuck another dude?”

“That’s—We’re just cousins!”

“Oh, kissing cousins?” Adrien laughed again. It would’ve actually been funny if he hadn’t heard that same excuse a thousand times over from his other casual encounters. “You had your tongue pretty far down his throat before you left, babe. Try another one.” Luka chuckled in approval and swirled his tongue around Adrien’s ear.

“Like this?” He whispered. Adrien wanted to whimper.

“Fine,” Erica seethed on the other end. “Fine! Be that way! Do your new partners realize how codependent you are?! How much you cling to whoever you’re fucking?!”

Luka and Marinette’s attentions stopped and Adrien felt his breath leave him. Oh God. Oh no. Please don’t let them…. He looked up at Marinette and Luka. They both still looked amused.

“That’s okay,” Marinette called towards the phone. “I like to cuddle!” To emphasize this, she wrapped her arms around Adrien’s shoulders. Relief and warmth flooded him. If he hadn’t already been sitting, he would’ve fallen over.

“And there’s two of us, so we should be able to handle it,” Luka added, kissing the top of Adrien’s head. He wanted to cry. It felt so good. He was safe, and happy, and loved—

“Oh, you are just sick!” his ex spat. “Boys and girls? It’s—it’s unnatural!”

Adrien stared at his phone in disbelief. She’d known he was bisexual from the start! She’d never seemed to have a problem with it before!!

“Somebody sounds jealous,” Marinette drawled.

“You’re a freak!”

“And you’re,” Luka leaned over to tap on Adrien’s phone, “cancelled.” He hung up on her and grinned at Adrien. “And that, my friend, is how you take out the trash.”

“Thanks, you guys,” Adrien said, letting out a shaky breath. “Usually my break-ups require a few more shouting matches and bottles of wine.”

And more of me sobbing into my pillow, he added silently.

“Aww,” Marinette cooed, holding him tighter, “poor Adrikins.”

Adrien gave a weak laugh. “Please don’t ever call me that again.”

“Only for Chloé, huh?” she pouted, pulling away.

He shot her a wry grin. “It just sounds weird when you say it.” To his surprise, her face softened.

“All right then, kitty,” she said softly. Adrien felt his heart leap, especially when she let him go and stroked his hair again. Yes! Yes, that one will do quite nicely, thank you! “Let’s get supper cleaned up and then we can go cuddle, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered, leaning into her touch desperately.

“Why don’t you two go ahead,” Luka suggested. “I’ll clean up.” He started clearing the table.

“You sure?” Marinette asked, giving him a quick peck as he passed by.

“Yeah. You can,” he gave Adrien a suggestive smirk, “get him ready.” Adrien gulped, wondering just what they might have planned for him—

“No sex tonight,” Marinette suddenly declared.

“What?! Aww…” He and Luka made disappointed sounds.

“Nope,” she said firmly. “If we’re going to try for a real relationship here, we have to have more than just the physical. And since you two have already jumped the gun today—”

“I already apologized for that!” Luka protested.

“—then we need to have a session where everyone feels loved and accepted,” she finished, glaring at her blue-haired boyfriend. “So,” she turned on Adrien, “tonight we are going to cuddle your ‘codependent’ ass until you get some much-needed sleep.”

Adrien opened his mouth to retort, but then he closed it again. Who could argue with something like that?

[lilulo-12fanfiction]

Wonder of You-2

Growing Up Winchester Part 2

Chapter starts below the cut! I struggled with this one. I know where I want it to go, but I was having a hard time getting there. 

Tag List:

@fandom-princess-forevermore @deans-baby-momma

Sam made her wear a cap and walk down the hall at Bobby’s to get her diploma from the mail.  “This is so stupid.” She groaned. “Trust me, when you look back you’ll be happy I made you do this and take pictures.” John and Dean were out on a rather long hunt, God knows where. He had sent her and Sam to spend some time at Bobby’s. She had wished that they had been there to celebrate with them. Once Dean knew her plans, had pulled away. She was leaving him and she knew she had hurt him. He spent his evenings at the bar chatting up and hooking up with whatever girl her could find before John had sent her and Sam off. Sam knew there was an unspoken rule that they didn’t talk about the change between her and Dean. They spent their time helping Bobby with research and messing around with cars. It was the first time it had been just the two of them. Sam had to comfort her after a nightmare. He tried all of Dean’s tricks but she still had at least two every night. She was sad. She hid it fairly well, but when she thought he wasn’t looking he could see it in her eyes. They had barely spoken since she and Sam left.

Dean didn’t go with her to her audition. She knew he was upset but she needed his support. He was her dance partner in a sense. Always there to root her on and she felt abandoned. Sam flew out with her and while he wasn’t Dean, she was thrilled to have him and enjoyed spending time with him. John didn't want her going on her own in case something happened. She thought it was ridiculous. She could handle herself. She wondered if John used it as an excuse because he knew the company or Sam would help to quell her nervous energy. She also knew that Sam and John needed some space between each other. Sam seemingly pulled away more and more. She wished she could find a way to bridge the gap, but they were just too different. In her opinion, she had nailed her audition. Now all she had to do was wait. 

Bobby was thrilled that the 2 of them were with him. Bobby loved them like they were his own, he didn't much care for how John Winchester dragged the kids around on his hunts. He didn't think it was safe or right. Bobby tried harder when she was there. The house was cleaner, he ate dinner every night and didn’t drink as much. She loved being at Bobby's. While John was like a father, Bobby was her favorite uncle. He taught her how to drive a car, even Dean was impressed with how well she drove. It was Bobby who really taught her how to shoot. John and Dean had taught her to use a gun and the basics. but Bobby taught her to never miss her target. Truth be told, she softened the 3 Winchester men and Bobby himself. 

She had been sitting in her room reading when her acceptance package came. Bobby had let Sam do the honors. Neither Sam or Bobby had ever seen her behave like a real teenager. But when she opened the big envelope and jumped up and down on her bed screaming, neither could help but be just as excited as she was. She had thrown her arms around Sam's neck in excitement and he spinned her around. Her happiness was contagious. Bobby had taken the two of them out to dinner to celebrate. She was happy, but Sam knew she was missing his brother and father. She had spent the next two days trying to call The two eldest Winchester men but was unsuccessful. She wanted John’s approval and she wanted to hear him tell her how proud he was. Sam knew she already had his approval. It often surprised Sam how often she looked towards John for validation.  Dean said it was because she never wanted him to regret taking her in, Sam knew that no matter what she did, John never would. John had called back congratulating her and told her he'd be to see her soon. She didn't hear back from Dean after she got her acceptance letter. It felt like a slap in the face. Her hurt was morphing into anger. Sam could see it in her eyes, but she wouldn't talk about it. She spent her free time fixing up a Jeep Wrangler to drive out to New York and practicing in the makeshift dance studio Bobby had put together for her. She was relentless with practicing. The fun and games she and Samhad at the beginning of the summer were over.

Three weeks after she stopped calling him, Dean came strolling into Bobby's and .she wouldn't even look at him. She was out the door before he even stepped foot in the kitchen. He tried to get Sam on his side, that he had been so busy with hunts that he didn't have time to call, but Sam wasn't buying it. Bobby had interjected that it was between her and Dean and to leave the two of them out of it. John agreed. Dean had dug himself into a hole instead of talking to her. John knew how much Dean loved her and vice versa. He would be thrilled if Dean made her a proper member of the family someday, but they both had a lot of growing up to do.

Dean tucked his tail in between his legs and headed out to the garage. There she was, clad in coveralls way too big for her, dark hair piled on top of her head and a grease mark on her face. "Bobby said you're doing an awesome job and you look good doing it too” He was hoping his Winchester charm would break the ice. His hands were in his pockets, she didn't respond and continued to work. "C'mon sweetheart." He jumped when she threw the tool she was holding down. "Don't. Don't you dare. I'm not your sweetheart. I haven't been since I decided to audition. It's fine Dean. You go back on your hunts and to your girls. I'll go do what I'm meant to do. You and me, it's not a good idea." “Whoa! YOU are the one that decided you need to leave. After that night, I thought we were going someplace. We didn’t even get a chance to talk about what happened and you decided you were out. I kissed you. You kissed me back and then you were done.” She took a deep breath and composed herself. “Dean, I’m only 17 and you’re only 20. If we were to be together, we’d lose what we have. No way would we end up together. I can’t be near you and not be with you. But I can’t lose you either. Right now, we’re a bad idea. But I didn’t think you’d hurt me like this. Jumping into bed with anything that has a vagina. Pulling away from me. You didn’t even call me when I called to tell you I got in. You’re ALWAYS the one I look to and you were gone. You left me before I left you. But I never would have really left you. We just need space for a while.” He stood wide eyed. "Blake- I. I'm sorry." "Just go Dean." She knew she wasn't being entirely fair, but it all hurt too much. They wouldn't see each other again before she left.

Sam drove out to NY with her to help her move in. He confessed to her on their drive that he was planning on applying to Stanford. He was terrified to tell John. “I’ll be there when you tell him Sammy. I’ll help you.” “You don’t think I’m being stupid?” “Sam, no. God no. You’re brilliant. And you deserve everything you want in life. If you want to be a lawyer and settle down with a family instead of being a hunter, then that’s what you do. You know how much I love your father but you can’t live your life for him. Look, I don’t know if I can live this normal life. I think I’m more like your father and Dean than you are. I think about getting revenge for my parents. I also think about how my mom didn’t want that life for me, so I have to at least try and see if it sticks. I have to believe that your mother would feel the same way. Your father, he just can’t see past his own loss and grief to realize that. Dean thinks your father walks on water and will do anything to make him proud. Even if Dean wanted something else he would do whatever it is your father wants. You don’t need to do that. Neither does he l, but we are who we are. I’ve got your back Sammy, always. Just like you’ve always have mine.” Sam squeezed her hand. “How am I going to survive without you?” She smiled at him. “That which doesn’t kill us gives us great coping mechanisms.” Once she was moved in, she and Sam grabbed some food and then she was putting him on a plane back to his father and brother.

It was the first night she had been truly alone since she was 12 years old and she was scared to go to sleep. She knew the nightmares would come. Her own stubbornness would be the death of her. At 1am she picked up the phone and dialed the number imbedded into her brain. She heard the line pick up but he didn’t say anything. “Dean?” Her voice was small. “Yeah I’m here. You okay?” He wanted to be cold to her, but he couldn’t. “I guess. I just, I’m afraid to go to sleep. This is the first time I’ve been without you or Sam in 6 years.” She was crying and he knew it. “Listen to me, you’re safe. You are perfectly safe. Nothing can get to you. And if something happens and someone tries I’ll be there.” Shewiped the tears from her face. “Pinky Promise?” “Always baby doll, always.” She smiled at the pet name. “I’m sorry Dean. I hate that the last time I saw you we were fighting.” “I know, me too. Try to get some sleep. If you have a nightmare, call me back, I’ll keep my phone on.” “Goodnight D.” “Night Darling.” They talked on the phone every night. Somenights she had to call him after a nightmare, some nights she slept through. He was happy that she was making friends and happy. She went home with her roommate for Thanksgiving. It was the first holiday they were apart in 6 years. The 3 Winchester men were rather down that Thanksgiving. So much so that they didn’t celebrate for the first time since she was with them. 

She had been given the part of Clara in the production of “The Nutcracker”. Being tiny paid off occasionally. She had called Dean as soon as her feet hit the pavement. He promised that the 3 of them would be there opening night. She put everything she had into rehearsals. This would be the first time she would see Dean in 6 months. When the day of opening night came, she saw Dean’s name pop up on her phone. “Where are you guys?” The excitement in her voice made his news that much harder. “Dad got a lead on the yellow eyed Demon. He’s not coming. But Sam and I will be there. I promise. We’ll be cutting it close to the start of the show, but we will be there. Leave our tickets at will call.” She agreed and hung up before Dean could hear the emotion in her voice. John had been putting the hunt before everything else for the longest time, but it was at its worst right now. John knew how important this was to her, but he was bailing. He always did it to Sam and Dean but he hadn’t with her until recently.  She peaked out from behind the curtain and watched as Sam and Dean settles into their seats. They were both in dress pants and with shirts and ties. Dean Winchester took her breath away. She had almost forgotten how beautiful he was. 

The performance went off without a hitch. Her cast mates congratulated each other and headed out for the night. Her boots clicked on the lobby floor as she made her way out to her boys. She stopped walking when she saw Dean. He slowly turned and then smiled at her. And like she was some dumb sappy girl from a movie she ran and jumped into his arms. “God I missed you.” He said in her ear and inhaled the scent of her hair.He could never get the sweet smell of her conditioner out of his mind. She pulled back to look at his face, placing both hands on the sides of his face and kissed him. It was quick, like a habit, like she did it everyday. “I’m so happy to see you.” He spin her around and she squealed like she did back on her 16th birthday. When he sat her down, he picked up the dozen lavender roses he had set on the bench. “Congratulations baby doll, you were incredible.” She was surprised that he remembered they were her favorite flowers. “C’mon, Sammy is warming up the car.” The boys stayed with her in NY for the weekend and then they drove down to Bobby’s for her Christmas break. Dean was back on the road with John shortly after Christmas. Sam put her on a plane back to NY where she was going to spend New Years with her new friends.

There were always lavender roses waiting for her on opening and closing night performances. It didn’t matter if she had a lead role or not, they were always there. He never included a card, but she knew they were from him. She decided to take that summer off and spend it with Sam and Dean. Many of her classmates were doing summer sessions, but she promised Sam she’d help him tell his father and Dean about Stanford. Now that he had been accepted for the Fall term he had to tell them. 

The 3 Winchester men were waiting for her at Bobby’s where she was leaving her Jeep and most of her stuff for the summer. John could sense the rift between the two of them when she stepped out of the car. “I’m sorry I missed your performances this year Sweetheart. I promise I’ll be better this coming year.” He saw the change in the way that she looked at him. “John, don’t make promises you don’t know you can keep. It’s fine. I understand.” John knew then that things would never be the same between the two of them.

She and Dean fell back into their old habits. He stopped going to bars and hitting on girls and spent all of his time with her and Sam. They shared a bed like they used to and Dean took care of her. The 3 of them were in a motel room in Virginia when things changed between her and Dean again. Sam hadn’t worked up the courage to tell his father and Dean her, but there was a tension between the two brothers that she had to get away from.John was off hunting a nest of vampires and had been gone a few days and she couldn’t take the sniping between the two brothers anymore. “Dean, take me for a ride? I need to get out of this room.” He nodded. “You coming Sammy?” Sam knew she was trying to give him a break so he declined, thankful for a little peace.

Dean drove for a while and eventually pulled into a private beach. He admired her in her short jean shorts and black tank top. She slid her flip flops off and threw them in the car. “Lose the heavy duty work boots Winchester. They aren’t meant for sand.” He complied and even rolled the bottom of his jeans up so they could walk. She  slid her arm through his. She looked so beautiful with the wind blowing through her hair. They walked arm in arm silently until they came to some rocks and Dean led her over to sit down. As he sat, she stood in front of him, in between his legs. It was one of the rare times they were eye to eye. She placed her right hand in his face and rubbed her thumb over his cheek bone. “I don’t want to go back to Julliard. I hate being away from you. I want to stay with you, that’s when I’m happiest. “Blake...” Dean’s voice was low. She rested her forehead against his and she felt his hands slide up the back of her legs and rest on the small of her back. 

She pressed her lips against his. It was soft and tender. “We shouldn’t do this. You were right. If we get together and split up it will ruin us. I can’t lose you either.” She rubbed the tip of her nose against his. “I know. That’s all still true but I need this. I need you Dean.” He couldn’t deny her even if he wanted to. He pushed his lips against hers again and allowed her access to his mouth when she ran her tongue along his bottom lip. He was all hands. His hands were everywhere on her body, he made her feel like she was on fire. She had slept with her first college boyfriend nothing he did made her feel the way she did when Dean was just kissing her. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe they could be together. There were couples who were together since they were teenagers. That could be the two of them. She’d leave school and be back on the road with him. She could do the research and then maybe the loss of Sam wouldn’t be such a blow.

 They made their way back to the motel in bliss until they heard the yelling from inside the room. Sam had told John his plans. Before she could even shut the door John was raging at her. “You knew about this?! You encouraged him?!” Dean stepped between her and John. “Whoa. What’s going on?” John went on a rant about Sam going to Stanford, blowing off his responsibilities to the family business to be a lawyer. Dean stepped away from you. “Wait, how long have you know about this?” Dean couldn’t believe she didn’t tell him. They always promised there would be no secrets between them. “I’ll take your secrets to my grave.” She used to whisper to him. “Dean, it wasn’t my place to tell. Sam wasn’t ready and I wasn’t going to do that to him.” He nodded and then she turned to John. “You let me go John. You wanted me to have something normal. To be happy. Why is it different for Sam? Is it because I’m a girl? Because you and I both know I can fight just about anything, I have better aim than any of you and no one can do a spell like me.” She waited for a response. “It’s complicated.” He snapped at her and she felt physical pain from it. “I get it. It’s the family business and while you’ve always told me I’m family, you didn’t really mean it. I’m not really family so my choices don’t matter.” John was too angry to tell her she was wrong. “This isn’t about you.” She took a deep breath and held her hands up in front of her and slowly backed out of the room to leave the 3 of them to fight. She didn’t let the tears come until she was out of their sight. John Winchester had broken her heart. 

A while later Dean came out. “I’m sorry about that in there. He didn’t mean it.” You had shrugged. Your plans to drop out of school had already been internally vetoed. You couldn’t stay with John anymore. If Dean was in his own it was one thing but John had started loosing her trust and faith during her first year away. Now that she was grown, his obligation to her father had been met obviously. “I just don’t know how Sammy could do this to us.” She was incredulous.“He’s not doing it to you, he’s doing it for himself. He doesn’t want this life. He wants to be happy and to have a family. He wants stability. I know why you and John do this. But it isn’t the life Sam wants. And you can’t tell me that your mother would want you two spending your lives trying to hunt the monster that killed her. She sacrificed herself to save Sam. She-“ Dean interrupted her before she could finish. “Do NOT talk about her like you knew her. You know nothing.” He raged at her. Her eyes got wide. She stood and stalked back to the room to pack her things. She was leaving that night. Dean didn’t follow her. The magic that had been earlier that evening was tainted. 

She went back to NY and stayed with her friends for the last few weeks of her summer vacation. She talked to Sam every day, but she and Dean hadn’t spoken since she walked out of the motel in Virginia. John had left her an apology message and when she finally called him back he was almost in tears. “You’re family. You know you’re family. You’re my daughter and I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t.” Whatever ice had formed between them melted. She loved John Winchester and she couldn’t not forgive him. He promised to try harder and she genuinely believed him. He made good on his promise when he was there opening night as she danced the lead in “The Sleeping Beauty.” She was disappointed when he showed up alone. Yet, as always, there were a dozen lavender roses waiting for her. This time it included a canard. “I’m sorry. -D” She wanted to forgive him but she was too stubborn to swallow her pride. She spent her breaks from Julliard with Sam in California. She was finishing up her junior year and it was spring break. She had an audition with a ballet company for a job after graduation and then hopped on a plane to spend the next two weeks with her best friend and his girlfriend. California always made her feel at peace and free. She wasn't sure if it was the sun or the ocean but she looked forward to the trip every time it came. She knew her life was going to change soon, but she wasn't aware how drastic the change would be. She had been walking back to Sam's place after taking a walk to clear her head. She had been toying with the idea of going to see Dean. They had talked and texted a few times since he sent the flowers, but she missed him so much. She wanted to see the crinkle near his eyes when he smiled and hear the deep timber of his laugh. It didn't matter what happened.m. She hadn't been paying attention and a car barreled into her, breaking her left leg and foot before speeding off. She was able to pull her phone out of her pocket to call for help. She found out when she woke up 5 days later that her dancing career was over. She would heal, but wouldn't ever be able to dance like she had. The pins in her left ankle wouldn't allow it. 

Her career wasn't the only thing she lost as a result of the accident. She had many internal injuries, the worst were to her reproductive organs. The doctors had to perform a partial hysterectomy. She had never been sure if she wanted to have her own children but now she didn't even have the choice. She loved kids, teaching younger students was something she had always loved. It was the life her family led both biological and not that gave her pause. While John Winchester had done a good job of keeping her away from it since she decided to go to school, she knew it wouldn't last forever. So she mourned the life she knew she couldn’t ever have. John had been there when she had woken up, tears in his eyes, holding her hand. He and Sam had spent the entire time avoiding each other. When John knew that she was going to be okay, he left again with the promise to call her every day. He had left Dean out on the job they had been on when Sam had called. Dean had wanted to come, but John wouldn't let him. So Dean did what he always did, sent her favorite flowers, but this time he included the card. "I'm so sorry sweetheart. I can only imagine the physical and emotional pain you're in. If there was a way for me to take it away, I would do it in a heart beat. You may not believe me, but there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. Dad needs me to keep working, but as soon as I can come see you, I'll be there. Pinky Promise. D" 

Sam was afraid her depression would swallow her whole. Jess hadn't even hesitated when he asked if she could stay with them until she was healed and had an idea of what her next steps were. 8 weeks later, her cast came off and she was just as lost as she had been when she first arrived. Once she was able to drive she went back to NY to get her Jeep and her things and drove back out to California. Sam offered to go with her, but she declined. She needed the time to think and decide what she wanted to do next. 

Dean hadn’t been able to come out to California. Although she knew the trip would be hard for him. The rift between he and Sam was almost as bad as the gully between Sam and John. She wished Dean had stayed out of it, but he was loyal to a fault when it came to his father. He was on a hunt near Kearny so she made her way there. The break in driving would be good for her. She pulled into the motel parking lot Dean had described to her. She didn't see the Impala yet, so she climbed out of her Wrangler to stretch her legs.  

When Dean pulled up, there was was, leaning against the building next to his room door. Her arms were crossed in front of her and she had her right leg bent up with the bottom of her foot pressed against the wall. Her messy dark hair was piled up on her head. Her tan from being in California made her blue-green eyes stand out more than they usually did against her dark hair. Denim shorts, a white tank top and a red plaid shirt that hung past her shorts that he was pretty sure had belonged to him when he was younger. Her eyes were on him as he climbed out of the Chevy. He couldn't help but grin at her. "You look great." was the first thing that tumbled out of his mouth. She grinned back and gave him the line he had given her all those years ago. "That's because I'm looking at you." All of the hurt feelings between them faded and he was hugging her. But something was different. He knew that there would be no kissing this time, no real intimacy. She deserved better than that, better than him. She couldn't take anymore heart break from a Winchester so she had to close that door for the time being. 

Later that evening after getting some dinner, that sat in his motel room. "So what are your plans now?" He had been hesitant to ask her, he didn't want to see the sadness that had swam into her eyes as soon as he asked the question. "I don't know. I mean, what does a washed up ballerina do when she can't ballerina anymore." He scoffed. "Washed up? You got injured. That's not washed up. God, your'e brilliant. You can do anything you want to do." She sighed. "The only other thing I want to do is be on the road and hunt with you." Dean shook his head. "No. You got out and you're staying out." She stood up and he watched her pace the room a few times before she turned to him, sadness replaced with fury. "Why are you and your father so determined that I'm going to live a different life. Have either of you thought about what I want. I gave the "normal" a shot and even when I wasn't broken it didn't fit. I was like a puzzle piece that someone forced into a spot where I didn't belong! I've lost too. You lost your mother and he lost his wife to a monster. I lost both of my parents too. I'm just as angry and messed up as you are. So why do you get to fight the fight and I get shoved to the sidelines?" Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "Because the idea of you getting hurt or killed on a mission is unbearable to me. I can't lose you too." She scoffed and didn't say anything else. He watched her as she grabbed her bag and started throwing her things in it. "Where the hell are you going?" She paused for a moment. "Sioux Falls. I can't go back to California with Sam. He's so freaking happy and normal and I'm just not. And you don't want me with you. So I'm going to the one place where I've always been wanted. I can help Bobby. I'll at least be doing something." She threw her bag over her shoulder and walked over to Dean and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll call you." He grabbed her arm before she could walk away. "Pinky Promise?" he saw her eyes fill with tears. "Always." And she linked her pinky through his and was out the door again.