#while met with a complete blank stare without going insane

[zaggyzoo]

another crazy day at work 👍

[bosbas]

Chapter 10: writing letters addressed to the fire

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.8k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, pining, like a lot of pining, anthony being controversial

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: they're so in their evermore era i can't

July 7, 1814 - The expectations were as high as the chandeliers at the Bridgerton Ball two nights prior. And the night did not disappoint. Our forgone diamond of the season made an appearance at the social event. A fact that is expected given the close relationship between the Beaumonts and Bridgertons, but a pleasant surprise given her recent absence from social happenings. While previously the center of attention, Miss Beaumont danced only once at the Bridgerton Ball with one Mr. Alexander Beaumont. Yes, dear reader, her brother. This leaves us with the lingering question: why did Miss Beaumont choose her brother over the allure of a potential match? It seems that Miss Beaumont is simply tired of the ton's social scene, or perhaps she has lost some of her shine now that her best friend has left for the countryside. 

He cleared his throat, rubbing his thumb on his lower lip. Finally meeting your eyes, he said, "Well, I was wondering if you'd want to marry me."

You choked, completely taken aback. "Are you alright, Anthony?" you asked, nervously laughing. "Was the whiskey too strong for you after all?"

He pinched his nose, annoyed at your flippant response, but couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips. "Be quiet! I'm trying to help you!" he said, laughing.

You were in hysterics now, too. "Help me?! Help me how, pray tell," you managed to get out between giggles.

"You are impossible! How Benedict deals with you so regularly, I have no idea!" he shot back, poking you in the arm as he said each word.

You gasped in mock offense. "Low blow, Anthony, even for you," you said, shaking your head at him, unable to keep from laughing. "Surely you're joking. Why should I let you marry me?"

"Let me marry– Bloody hell, Y/N, and excuse my language, but really, I am coming from a good place here, and you are making it so difficult," he responded, clearly exasperated by your inability to take him seriously.

You ceased laughing and looked at him directly, cocking your head and widening your eyes when you realized he was being sincere. "Anthony? Surely you're joking, right? Does Alex know? He'll kill you if he finds out you proposed to his little sister."

He sighed deeply, shifting in his seat. "Look, I am not joking. But let me explain first, and then you can ask me questions."

You could do little but stare at him, lips parted in confusion. "Go on, then," you said finally, very interested in hearing an explanation for this incredibly unexpected proposal.

Anthony looked over to where Alex was sitting, deep in conversation with your father, and then looked back to you. He turned in his seat so he was fully facing you, one hand on the back of his chair and the other on his knee, contemplating how best to explain himself without sounding insane. "I know it sounds like a crazy idea. Trust me, I can barely imagine it myself. But I do think it might be a good one," he said finally, hoping to get some kind of response from you, only to be met with a blank stare. You were still entirely unconvinced of his proposal, barely believing that he was being serious. 

"Listen, what you said two nights ago is not something I take lightly, given that you mean so much to us, to me and Benedict and our family. And I can see that you're having a rough go of it. The roughest go of it, actually," he continued.

"And you think marrying me will solve my problems because...?" you cut in, not quite following Anthony's logic.

"Well, I've been trying to explain my thought process for the past five minutes, but you're making it awfully hard, Y/N," he shot back, raising his eyebrows at you, amused. You rolled your eyes good-naturedly in response but sat back so you could let him continue.

"This might make more sense if I explain my side of things a bit more, actually," he decided, mentally rearranging what he was going to say to you. "Alex and Simon already know this, but my intention has never been to marry for love. Above all, I view marriage as a duty to my family. Since my father passed, I have been the one responsible for them, and they are the dearest thing in the world to me, as you well know."

At the mention of Edmund, you reached out and placed a hand on Anthony's, remembering how difficult it was for the family when his father passed. He shot you a grateful smile, covering your hand with his and clearing his throat before he continued speaking.

"I will be perfectly candid with you, Y/N, because you deserve nothing less. I was planning on looking for a wife next season, but even so, I believe that pursuing love is an unpleasant and unimportant endeavor, at least for me."

You gasped, slightly taken aback at his cynical views, though yours weren't much sunnier. "Don't you want to fall in love, Anthony? Don't you think you'll find a partnership like the one your parents had?" you prodded, overwhelmed by a sense of sadness. But you also felt somewhat understood, knowing now that Anthony had an unconventional view of marriage.

He gave you a knowing look, saying only, "Don't you?"

Knowing he had a point, you let up. "Fair enough, I suppose," you answered. Is that how you sounded when you spoke of getting married? You were completely disillusioned with the notion, but you had given it more than a few honest tries, while Anthony was set on never looking for a love match. It was quite ironic, seeing how much your parents loved each other and the love between Daphne and Simon, that you and Anthony had developed such depressing views on marriage. You saw Anthony nod in your direction, seemingly happy with your answer.

After a slight pause, Anthony winced, knowing he was about to share much more than he usually would. However, he knew that this would potentially benefit you both, so he fought through the discomfort. "Seeing my mother fall apart after Father died was awful to watch, and I would never want to cause someone that pain. My goal is not to find passion but to secure my family's future. And I was hoping to find someone who would want this different sort of partnership," he said, looking at you pointedly. You had already started connecting the dots in your head and thought you were catching on to where this was going now.

"So you want to have an unconventional marriage together, then?" you asked, hoping you had understood correctly.

He patted your hand, relieved you finally understood what he intended the proposal to sound like rather than the abrupt and blunt question he had asked earlier. "Yes, precisely. Of course, I want you to take as much time as you need to consider this decision since it is quite important. I doubt we would seek an expedited marriage license, but obviously, we can sort out the minutiae later if you decide to do this. There is no pressure one way or another, I simply wanted to give you an option you had probably not considered before," he said, searching your face for any reaction.

However, you remained guarded, still unsure about your feelings. Saying yes to this proposal would definitively mean saying no to Benedict. But Benedict had not even asked you anything, you argued internally. There was nothing to say no to. In fact, he had been the one to say no to you. But you didn't know if you were ready to give up all hope yet. Perhaps you were a fool, but then again, you always were when it came to your best friend.

If you accepted Anthony's proposal, would the now-permanent ache in your chest worsen at the knowledge that you could never have Benedict? Or would you feel better, getting closure Benedict would never give you?

You felt a surge of anger shoot up your spine. Why couldn't Benedict be the one asking you this? After twenty years, why was he the one who left you alone and confused while Anthony was left to pick up the broken pieces of you Ben left behind so carelessly? Even setting aside the added issue of your unrequited feelings for Benedict, Anthony was being a much better friend than him right now. But your anger dissipated quickly, dissolving into desperate sadness. You missed Ben so much; the short letters he had been sending were unsuccessful in placating the ever-growing need to feel his presence beside you. The overwhelming sense that something about you was missing was almost too much to handle, and you felt yourself going around in circles in your head about what you wanted to do.

You knew it could never be the same with Benedict regardless, so you reasoned that you would at least consider Anthony's proposal. You owed it to yourself to consider someone other than Benedict and something other than perpetual singledom without any children to raise or read to.

Realizing Anthony was patiently waiting for you to say something in response, you spoke up. "In theory, this doesn't sound like a terrible partnership," you started, laughing when Anthony snorted and muttered a short "Why, thank you."

"Shush! I'm trying to consider your proposal, and you're making it quite difficult to spend longer than twenty minutes with you, let alone the rest of my life," you joked, stomach dropping slightly when you mentioned the concept of forever. Pushing through your fear, you kept speaking, "I know you, Anthony Bridgerton. And I know you would not do something like this without a plan. So tell me your plan, and I will consider it and give you my answer once I have one."

Anthony couldn't help but laugh at your scolding tone, "You're not wrong." However, he knew he had to be careful about how he presented his reasoning for this proposal. It was no secret that he thought his brother a complete buffoon for refusing to marry you. Anyone could see that your best friend was madly in love with you, and Anthony was beyond confused as to why Benedict was being obtuse and frankly stupid when you so clearly loved him just as much.

It was hard to miss the alarmingly fond looks the two of you exchanged, not to mention what must be dozens of sketches of you in Benedict's studio, try as he might to make it look like there weren't that many. But what really made it the most obvious was Benedict's manner of speaking about you. It was beautiful to hear when Ben forgot himself and spent nearly an hour discussing a fascinating observation you had made about one of his paintings. Or when he saw Eloise reading a book you had read and launched into a speech about your genius way of interpreting a particular passage. Or even when Anthony inquired about any of the paintings of you in his studio and his brother began a lengthy explanation of how he wanted to paint your eyes in a way that captured your thoughtful yet soft gaze, in Ben's words. Benedict's unwavering and wholehearted admiration of you rivaled that of his parents. It seemed to Anthony that you were the sun, and Benedict was happy to be in your orbit if only to relish in the warmth and comfort you brought him. And the same could be said for you.

So, choosing his words carefully, Anthony avoided saying anything that would upset you, knowing you were still raw from Benedict's sudden departure a few weeks ago. "To start, a legal union between our families would only strengthen our bond, and I know we both would still like to remain close with our families after we are married."

Gauging a positive reaction from your raised eyebrows and slight nod, he continued. "Perhaps the most obvious advantage is that we would have the marriage we both want. I would, of course, encourage you to continue pursuing your studies after we were married, and though I would like to have children, and I know you do as well, I am in no particular rush if you don't feel ready yet," he continued.

To be fair, Anthony made a compelling argument. Although your ideal marriage was still the one you had imagined with Benedict as a child, Anthony was realistically the best option for you, especially with the men of the ton being as dreadful as they were and Ben off in the countryside for who knows how long.

"I don't want to feel suffocated by my husband, Anthony," you warned, earning a laugh from him.

"I know you think I'm insane, but I promise I don't want to be a suffocating husband. We want a lot of the same things, just for different reasons," he responded, ready to answer any and all rebuttals you had. Anthony knew this would be a difficult decision, and he had come prepared with the utmost patience to ensure he got rid of all of your doubts to the best of his abilities. Having watched you grow up and grown up alongside you, he had a deep fondness for you, often feeling as protective over you as he did over Eloise or Daphne. Anthony cared about you and wanted the best for you, no matter what that might entail. And if he could find a wife a season earlier than he had expected while you got what you deserved, that was just an added bonus.

In the back of his mind, Anthony hoped that if you accepted his proposal, Benedict might come to his senses before the engagement progressed too far. But he would be a fool to count on his brother to do so, based on how Ben had acted so far. Anthony knew it would be cruel to tell you this and raise your spirits only to be disappointed again. If it came to it, Anthony would be happy to marry you. It was a very practical union, and Anthony quite liked practical things.

"It makes sense, in a way, I suppose. We do want similar things," you muttered to yourself. "And you'd let me read as much as I wanted?" you asked, needing reassurance.

"I promise," answered Anthony, smiling sweetly at you. "Besides, we are already very acquainted with one another, having grown up together, and I'm sure it'd be good fun to be married. Well, at least I think so. And you know me well enough to be able to make that decision for yourself."

You nodded thoughtfully, mulling over all of the possible caveats you could think of to bring up to Anthony. If you were going to go through with this, you needed to be absolutely sure that it was what you wanted. Although it was getting difficult to find negatives about this possible union. It seemed that you would have much more agency with Anthony than if you were married to anyone else, bar Benedict, or as a spinster.

"What about Alex?" you settled on asking. "Have you talked about this with him?"

Both of you subconsciously turned to look at your older brother and then at each other. Anthony gave a slight shake of his head. "No, not yet. But I have a feeling he'll understand and even be supportive. Especially after the other night. And especially now that Benedict left."

You furrowed your brow, confused. What did Anthony mean, especially now that Benedict left? You were about to ask for clarification when Anthony cut in.

"Anyway, don't worry about Alex. I will talk to him and your father, and I know they will be on board with whatever you choose. So all you have to do is decide if this is something you want to do or not," he said quickly, trying to make up for the fact that he had revealed too much before. Anthony knew Alex had similar feelings to Anthony, perhaps even more pent-up anger at Benedict than he did since Benedict was hurting Alex's little sister. But he hadn't meant to tell you so directly. Anthony mentally kicked himself for rubbing salt on your metaphorical wound. Although it seemed that you had let go of his comment, for now, he noted as he watched you rubbing your temples, deep in thought.

You sighed deeply, coming to the realization that this could be it. This decision could change your life forever, and perhaps Benedict's life, depending on how he handled the news. If you accepted the proposal, of course. You couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of guilt, knowing that you could never feel for Anthony the same way you felt about Benedict.

"And you'd be alright with me not being in love with you? I don't think I can do that again. After Benedict," you said softly, still wanting to avoid thinking about losing him as much as possible.

"Yes, I would prefer it, actually," said Anthony, smiling at you. But his playful demeanor was wrapped in a careful tenderness. He understood you better than most people, having learned to see you, above all, through Benedict's eyes. He knew you were terrified. Of being married and not being married, of losing yourself and of staying exactly the same as you were now.

He was terrified, too, to be honest. He knew Benedict would be impossibly angry with him, even though he really had no reason to be, and feared their relationship could be fractured. Not to mention that Anthony had been dreading marriage ever since that fateful day his father fell ill from a bee sting, leaving his mother alone in the empty shell of their loving partnership. He supposed the two of you did sort of make sense in a peculiar way.

"Alright, go away, please," you shooed Anthony away. "I have to actually think about it now. But no matter what happens, I want you to know I'm grateful for your offer. I know it's coming from a very generous place, and it really does mean the world," you added, squeezing his hand as he stood up.

"Of course, Y/N. I'm not Benedict, but you're very important to me nonetheless. Take as much time as you need," he responded, returning your squeeze and making his way over to Colin and Theo, giving you space to mull over your decision.

That was precisely the situation, you thought. Anthony wasn't Benedict. And you had to decide whether or not that was good enough for you. It was a very compelling offer, and you knew it might be your only chance to have anything close to the sort of life you had hoped to have before Henri and the rest of the men of the ton so pointedly crushed your dreams. Benedict was the only reason not to marry Anthony, and he had been quite clear in saying that he wouldn't marry you. But you wanted to enjoy a few more days of imagining that Ben could be yours in some capacity before you had to move on from him forever.

---

Shoving a pile of unsent letters aside, Benedict set a fresh sheet of paper down and started yet another letter he was unlikely to send to you. Now that he had ceased going to parties and bringing home a different woman every night, he found himself with ample bouts of time that he dedicated almost exclusively to thinking about you.

With each new letter you sent, Benedict found himself lost in your words, re-reading them constantly and clinging to any fragment of you that he could still claim as his. In response, he wrote pages and pages of prose he would never send. These ranged from letters he could plausibly send to you, responding to every comment you had made about the book you had read that day. Others were less tame. Sometimes, he found himself unable to keep his overflowing feelings inside of him any longer, choosing instead to write heart-wrenching confessions of a love so deep and all-consuming that it permeated every fiber of his being. But Anthony's words reverberated in his head, warning him not to lead you on, every time he contemplated addressing these letters.

But Benedict loved you. The real, soul-crushing sort of love that only came once in a lifetime. The kind of love that grew from years of being by your side, knowing every detail of you, and still wanting to know more. He was far past the point of denying it and had now stumbled on an agonizing feeling of wanting. He wanted you by his side while he painted, quietly discussing the colors or the shading he was working on. He wanted to put his head in your lap as you sat in the garden, feeling your fingers running softly through his hair. He wanted to look over at night and find your sleeping form beside him, less than an arm's length away as he fell asleep holding you. Most of all, he wanted to be content in the knowledge that he could hold your hand, breathe in your scent, and twist your hair in his fingers as he kissed you every single day for the rest of his life. 

The moment in your garden by the rose bushes from the day before he left, where he came so close to kissing you, haunted his every waking moment. He couldn't seem to forget the way your lips parted, moving ever so slightly closer to his. The feeling of your soft breath against his skin, luring him in. He had been so close to just giving in and touching your expectant lips with his. It was all he had dreamed about doing ever since he had come back from Oxford and felt you in his arms, realizing that he never wanted to spend another day apart from you. He still wondered what would have happened if he had just done it. If he had just leaned over a few inches to join your lips and brushed his thumb on your cheek as he grabbed your waist. But he hadn't. Instead he had fled to the countryside, where he was missing you more than ever and ridden with jealousy at the thought of you with another man. 

Benedict didn't know if the ache of longing would ever fade. All he knew was that you were a permanent mark left on him he would never be able to wash off even if he wanted to. A part of him would always be you. The proof of that was on his desk cluttered with letters that would never find their way to you and in his studio housing nearly a dozen unfinished portraits of you.

Clutching to a sliver of hope, he held onto the fact that no news of your engagement had reached him. Yet, each day brought with it a tormenting dread as he approached his unopened letters, torn between the desperate hope for a letter from you and the paralyzing fear that he would receive an invitation to your wedding. But for now, he could still pretend you were his, at least partially.

—

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[bruhstories]

You Truly are Beautiful when You Cry

Summary: Y/N leaves a party only to find Eren in front of her apartment. Shit happens. Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader, mentioned Eren x Mikasa (modern AU) Warnings: language, mentions of loss of virginity, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), masochist!Reader, toxic and dominant Eren, sadist!Eren, face slapping, mentions of blood, mention of toxic relationships, dacryphillia — Eren’s nuts, just fiy Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: I just wanna say, I have absolutely nothing against Mikasa, I like her a lot, but for the purpose of this fic, Y/N hates her. Also, shameless smut y’all. I feel like this needs a part two  — who knows, maybe one day.

You and Eren have been friends since childhood — not inseparable, like he was with Mikasa and Armin, but good friends nonetheless. It came as a shock to you when him and Mikasa started dating, almost feeling disgusted, considering they were practically siblings. You tried your best to be supportive of their relationship, but Eren knew you too well for your own good, and sometimes you had to swallow down the vomit when you saw them together. It was even more shocking when you left Connie's party and found Eren on the stairs leading up to your apartment. He had a blank stare, not a single hint of emotion behind his emerald eyes, his lips pursed and waiting for you. You almost didn't recognise him in the dim light, his bun dishevelled, locks of hair covering his face.

"Jaeger? Is that you?" You asked, keys between your fingers, ready to hit.

"In the flesh, Y/L/N." He replied, his voice empty. You two had a habit of calling each other by your last names ever since you met in kindergarten. You lowered your hand and rushed to him, wondering if something happened tonight.

"Are you okay? You disappeared from the party all of a sudden. Armin was worried sick-"

"We broke up." The words caught you off guard, but in a sick twist of events, you were happy to hear that. In a way, you knew their relationship was doomed from the very beginning, surprised that it even lasted three full years.

"Shit." You chewed your lip in the darkness of the hallway. "Come on, let's go inside, you can tell me everything."

Eren looked at the hand you extended and gripped it tightly, helping himself up. The two of you had an odd friendship, to say the least. Before Mikasa, Eren would tease you, sexual innuendos all over the place, he'd seen you naked countless times, you caught him jacking off once. You both lost your virginities to one another, no strings attached. But you did get attached. You got so attached when him and Mikasa started dating and the rotten feeling ate you from the inside out.

You flipped the switch inside your flat and threw your backpack on a chair, along with your jacket. Eren kicked his boots off and threw himself on the couch with a growl while you pulled out a bottle of vodka from the fridge. He always acted like your apartment was his.

"Food?"

"No."

"Alright. Now tell me, what happened?" You asked, seating beside him and passing him the alcoholic beverage. He took a sip to wet his dry throat and threw his head back.

"We went in a room at Connie's. I wanted to tie her up with that stupid scarf she keeps wearing — my scarf — and she kept saying no." Eren explained before taking a few more sips. You nodded, eager to hear the rest of the story and trying your best to contain your giddiness. "I didn't force her or anything. She started spewing shit about how I changed, how I'm always angry and aggressive, how we don’t make love anymore. How I'm not the pure, innocent boy she fell in love with." He practically mocked the sentence. "And then that was it. Said we aren't compatible anymore and that she wants out of this 'toxic' relationship." Eren gestured quotation marks in the air while you took the bottle and downed some vodka yourself.

"Man, I'm really sorry to hear this." You lied. The sound of his dark laughter sent shivers down your spine, the little hair on your arms and the back of your neck standing up. "Something funny, Jaeger?"

"You're such a terrible liar, Y/N." Eren slightly turned his head to look you in the eye. Your own name rolling down his tongue sounded so natural, so perfect. You tried to speak, but the words stopped in your throat when he moved closer, his figure hovering above your petite frame. "What, you think I didn't know?"

"K-know what?" You finally managed, a short-circuit in your brain.

"That you're so obviously in love with me." Eren flashed you a sneer.

"Am not��" slap

His palm met your cheek, hard enough to flush it crimson, but not hard enough to hurt. Mouth agape, you just couldn't respond. For three long years you waited for this man to come to his senses and realise how much you truly loved him, how much you devoted yourself to him, how much you support him. Not Mikasa, you.

"You don't have to hide anymore, Y/N." Eren kissed your forehead and you were putty in his hands. "I know you’ve loved me since we first fucked. I know how much you yearn for me to fuck you again."

"You're delusional!" You finally told him, despite how correct he was.

"Prove me wrong then. Go on, yell at me, shove me. Do it." But you couldn't do it, could you? Your luscious lips parted open, then they closed. "That's what I thought." He crushed his lips onto yours in a sloppy, wet kiss, your hands tangling in his messy hair, the bun long gone. Eren's calloused hands snaked around your waist and under your shirt and, in a moment of clarity, you stopped him.

"W-wait, you two just broke up! I don't want to be your rebound—"

"Who said anything about that?"

"Are you insane? You loved her!"

"Have I?"

The simple question made you realise that Mikasa bight have been right all along. That something was indeed wrong with Eren. The lack of empathy and emotion, the aggressive behaviour, the manipulation. Yet, it didn't bother you, because he came to you specifically. He could've hooked up with any other girl from the party, but he wanted you.

"Don't spoil the moment, Y/N. I might change my mind."

"No, please!" The words came out of your mouth without a warning, strengthening the fact that you were completely and hopelessly desperate.

"Perfect." Eren purred in your ear. That was all he needed to hear before his shirt was on the floor and his hands on your thighs. You tentatively pulled your skirt up, spreading your legs for him, just for him. "Good slut."

The degrading praise earned him a mewl from you, your hips thrusting into his touch, wanting more. Eren didn't waste any more time, and his fingers rubbed your wet folds through the fabric of your thongs. Your muscles instinctively flexed at the touch, your body burning with need and lust. His other hand trailed off to find your perfectly soft, round breasts. Your own hands roamed through his black hair, fingers tangling in the locks as you merely whispered 'more', unable to speak louder.

"Tell me, have you been whoring around these last years?" Eren demanded, fingers pushing your panties to the side. It slightly bothered you how much he talked during this, but, as always, Jaeger got what he wanted.

"N-no..." You told him, quiet as a mouse, but he wouldn't have any of that. Like a maniac, he ripped the lace lingerie off of you, scratching your thighs in the process. You could feel the burning sensation in the markings he left.

"I told you, Y/N, no fucking lies. I wanna know every single man who's touched you."

"W-why? Why does it m-matter?" You stuttered, your eyes searching his. Why did it matter, though? It wasn't like he cared about who you fucked. Unless... unless he did care. And his relationship with Mikasa was nothing but a mistake on his part.

"Because," Eren oh so slowly caressed your folds with his long fingers, "you're mine. Always have been, always will be." He easily slipped his index finger inside of you. "And I won't fuck you unless you tell me who else you slept with."

"Ah– w-with Jean!"

"And?"

"And R-Reiner!" You whimpered, frantically fucking yourself with his hand. You were a sight for sore eyes, sprawled on the couch and longing for his touch.

"And?" The word accentuated so hard that you thought he was about to kill you on the spot.

"Fuck– P-Porco and Ah-Annie! I swear, that's it!" You promised, your breath hitching, heartbeat raising.

"One more thing, Y/N. Did you think of me while you fucked them?"

"Yes! Always! P-please, Eren, please fuck m-me! I'm begging you!"

The little plea seemed to satisfy Jaeger. Or so you thought, because he grabbed a fistful of your hair and dragged you all the way across the apartment to your bedroom, unbothered and unphased by you screaming how much it hurt. He threw you on the shaggy rug in your room, and as you scrambled to gain your composure, you heard Eren's belt hit the floor.

"You should be an expert in sucking cock by now. Prove me how much you want me." He commanded. His voice was low and dangerous, he didn't have to yell to make you scared shitless. Obediently and afraid, you crawled to the bed on all fours, removed your shirt and palmed his hot, hard member. It was already leaking precum, and so your tongue sensually licked the droplets, the saltiness mixed with the aftertaste of vodka in your mouth sending you in a frenzy. He scared you — no, he terrified you, but you couldn't deny you were enjoying this. Mikasa didn't like it rough? Fuck that, you would let Eren kill you if it pleased him. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock and worked your way down his shaft, guttural sounds coming from his throat. His hand found its way to your head, and he forcefully pushed it down, stuffing your mouth and throat with his (too) thick member. Tears from pleasure and pain pooled at your Y/E/C eyes and he held you there for a good ten seconds before releasing you.

"Did I make you cry?" Eren asked, his voice almost concerned.

"Mhm." You sobbed with a nod, and he once again grabbed you by the hair, pulled you up and bent you over the wooden bedframe. So much for concern.

"Good." Jaeger slapped your ass so hard you screeched and dug your fingernails in the wood. "Remember what I told you first time I saw you cry?" He asked before positioning himself at your entrance. You nodded — how could you forget? You were both 13 and you got a bad grade, crying your eyes out and thinking that was the end of the world. Normal people would have tried to comfort you and tell you to stop crying. But not Eren. He told you he's never seen anything more beautiful. That should've been a red flag. That should've been a sign to run. Instead, you kept crying as he told you he wanted to see more. A sadist from the very beginning, and you — nothing but a slave.

Eren's thrust woke you up from the distant memory and you arched your back in response. He stretched your walls and it felt like his cock was made for you.

"You don't happen to have any rope, do you?" He asked so nonchalantly.

"N-no-"

"'S alright, we'll just use my belt." Jaeger pulled out and a sense of emptiness filled you. He belonged inside of you — you knew that for a fact — he was meant to be with you. Eren cracked the belt and whipped it all over your exposed ass, your pain-filled scream bringing joy to his ears. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his sadistic smile burning like the sun on your nape. Before you knew it, he had your wrists tied behind your back, the thin wooden frame pushing into your skin.

"Much better." He decided as he thrusted back inside. You whimpered, moaned, groaned, all sorts of sounds came out of you as his fingers dug into your flesh. As much as you wanted, you couldn't move, gravity pulling you down. You didn't know what hurt more: the bedframe sinking deeper into your abdomen, his deeper thrusts or the tight belt around your wrists. It was safe to say your knees were wobbly, and you could feel the climax getting closer. God, you were pathetic. He barely fucked you and yet you were done for.

"E-Eren! I'm c-coming!"

"I know." He told you absentmindedly, his hand moving from your hip in-between your thighs. "I want you to be good and cum, alright?"

"Yes! Oh, fuck!! Harder – faster!" You moaned as Eren rubbed your swollen clit. A wave of pleasure took over your entire body, your legs trembling as you came all over his cock. He didn't stop, despite you begging him you couldn't take it anymore, instead he kept fucking your numbing cunt, longing for release. It hurt like a bitch to feel his thrusts, and you really wanted him to pull out, but at the same time, you had to do it — for him.

"Whoever told you that you get to tell me when to stop?" Eren bent over and grabbed you by the neck, bringing you closer to him. The fingers around tour soft neck would definitely leave a mark next day. "I'm your god, Y/N!" He groaned in your ear with one final thrust. You both sighed as he pulled out, cum leaking from your folds. You were extremely thankful to be on the fucking pill. He untied your wrists and gathered his underwear and jeans from the floor.

When you noticed him getting dressed, anxiety seeped into your veins. Wasn't he going to stay over? At least for the night? Take a shower? Anything!

"You're leaving?" You asked him, surprising yourself with the condescending tone of your voice.

"Yes?" Eren retorted, baffled by the audacity of your question.

"B-but, where are you going??" Now you just sounded desperate. “We can stay in silenc—"

"To get back with Mikasa."

Your heart sank to your stomach. To do what? Mikasa? How could he do this to you? Shit, it would've been better if you were his rebound, but this? This hurt worse. Your entire body shivered, and not from your climax. You were trembling with anger, disappointment.

"N-no, you're not!" You ran to the front door, despite the pain in your abdomen caused by the wooden bedframe. "Eren, plase! She'll never love you like I do! Please don't go, I'm begging you!"

"Don't be pathetic, Y/N." He rolled his eyes. That stupid brain in your head made you fall down your knees in front of a fully dressed Eren, tears rolling down your cheeks and trying everything in your power to stall him from leaving. "You truly are beautiful when you cry." He pushed you with his leg and walked past you. You tried to grab his sleeve, his hand, anything, but it was too late.

When the door closed behind him, he didn't know what he'd created. There, on the floor, you swung your body back and forth, knees to your chin, makeup ruined, matted hair. Your fingernails clawed at the wood underneath you until the nail polish chipped and blood seeped at the tip of your fingers. Eren Jaeger broke you into a million pieces, he ripped your heart out of your chest and ate it. But it’s alright, you told yourself between indiscernible words. The only word that you could coherently say over and over again was revenge.

[paradoxolotl]

Can I get some Amelia? :> I feellike all my asks to you get eaten by tumblr or something cuz I never see them :( since like a long time ago

I’m behind on my asks. I’ve got some doodle requests, some song recs, one or two WIP asks, and a few AFTG asks/prompts sitting in there still.

Have another chunk from chapter one, immediately after Neil and Andrew cross paths. Some violence going on/their pasts if you look.

~~

Neil was trying to pull up Aaron’s contact while keeping the man in his vision. He stiffened when Neil took a step closer, so he stopped and held up his hands. “This is all one big misunderstanding; your kid came up to us. I wasn’t trying to kidnap her, I just didn’t want her running off.”

The man risked a glance down at his daughter, who was glaring at Neil. A nudge got her to look up, and she gave him a quick nod. The man returned to doing his best to kill Neil with just his gaze. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to touch someone without permission?” He growled.

Neil winced, “I’m sorry about that. But look, this is going to sound crazy, but I think I know your brother.”

If Neil thought the man was still before, he was frozen now. It was hard to tell, but he may have grown a few shades paler as well. “Fuck off,” he said, before turning and starting to walk away.

“Wait!” Neil called, running to cut them off while staying out of arm's reach. He could already feel his jaw beginning to bruise. “He’s coming back, please-“

Quicker than Neil thought someone his size could be, the man stepped forward and drove his fist into Neil’s gut. For the second time since this mess happened, Neil found himself on the ground. By the time Neil got back to his feet, the man and his daughter were almost lost to the crowd. At least being used to people treating him as a punching-bag made him quick to recover..

“Fuck,” Neil said.

He spotted Aaron making his way through the crowd, a staff member trailing him.

“Fuck,” Neil said again, this time with feeling.

Catching Aaron’s eye, he made a giant swooping gesture that probably made him look insane before taking off again. Ignoring Aaron’s shout, Neil weaved through bodies, looking for a flash of pale blond. Just as he was convinced that he had lost them, he broke through the crowd and saw the pair making their way across the parking lot.

“Hey, HEY!” Neil called, chasing after them.

This time, he stopped a good few feet away. Idly, he thought his team would be proud of him for learning from his mistakes. Neil was fairly certain that the man would actually murder him if he got too close, child present or not.

“What do you want?” He put himself between his daughter and Neil, his entire body screaming back off.

Neil felt his temper flare. “I’ve been trying to tell you!” He snapped. “If you would just wait, I could explain!”

The man was silent for a moment. Then, “You have twenty seconds.”

“Seriously?”

“Fifteen.”

Fuck he was serious. “I think I know your brother,” Neil blurted out again, hoping Aaron had followed him. It would be so much easier if he could just show them.

The man made a buzzer sound. “Sorry, you lost my interest. Follow us again and I will kill you.”

Neil opened his mouth to protest when he heard a familiar voice behind him, and he sagged in relief.

“Neil, you fucking asshole! The fuck are you doing?” Aaron rounded the car they were hidden behind, out of breath and glaring. “You can’t just take off like-“

“Look!” Neil cut him off, pointing at the man and his daughter.

Aaron glanced over and did a double take, his face falling slack. “What the fuck,” he breathed.

Neil felt a smug smile creep across his face, and he turned to look at the man. He was staring at Aaron with a blank face, but his grip on his daughter had tightened. She was looking between the two of them with large, concerned eyes, her hands fisted in her dad’s shirt.

“Do I have your interest now?” Neil asked him.

It snapped the man’s eyes back to Neil, but only for a moment. He and Aaron couldn’t seem to stop looking at each other, although Neil couldn’t really blame them. It wasn’t every day you met your doppelgänger.

“I-“ Aaron started before cutting himself off. “Is this a joke?”

The man fished out a pair of keys and passed them to his daughter. “Go wait in the car.”

“But dad-“

“Chick, I need you to wait in the car for me.”

She looked like she wanted to argue more but took the keys with a pout and walked over to an older car a few places down before climbing into the backseat. The three of them stood in a tense silence for a few moments, both Aaron and the man having yet to look away from each other.

Neil, having never being very good at keeping quiet, cleared his throat. “Well, this is weird.”

Aaron gave him an exasperated look, but finally seemed to get his brain working again. He shook himself slightly before holding out his hand. “I’m-I’m Aaron.”

The man eyed his hand but didn’t take it. “Andrew,” he offered after a moment.

Aaron’s hand hung in the air a moment longer before falling back down to his side. “Is this some sort of Parent Trap thing?” He asked, sounding on the edge of hysterical.

“I do not know what that is,” Andrew said.

Aaron shoved his hands in his pockets and pulled them out to cross his arms immediately after. “Parent Trap, like the movie? Where the mom raises one kid and the dad the other?”

Andrew gave a single slow blink. “No.”

“Well, something had to have happened, right? I mean, you look just like me.”

Neil caught Andrew swallow. “You’re not adopted.” He didn’t say it like a question, more like an observation. Neil had a very bad feeling, a rattling in the back of his head. He tried to get Aaron’s attention, but he seemed to have forgotten Neil’s very existence.

“What? No, of course I’m not. My mom raised me.”

“She kept you.” Andrew’s face didn’t change, but his voice had fallen completely flat. His gaze flicked briefly over to his car.

“Aaron,” Neil tried to no avail.

“What do you mean she kept me?”

Andrew eyed Aaron and Neil before rolling his shoulders back and holding out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

Aaron’s hand went to his pocket, covering his phone. “What? Why?”

The look Andrew gave him was somehow both utterly bored and could cut to the bone at the same time. “I am not going to spell it out for you.”

It took another moment of hesitation before Aaron handed over his phone, shifting uncomfortably. Andrew only had it for a minute before giving it back, and when Neil glanced at the screen he saw a new contact for Andrew Doe.

[creativeashproductions]

Curiosity // Luke Patterson

Summary: After filling up another journal designed his songbook Luke is left empty handed. With the offer to a shelf of blanket journals is given he’s immediately choosing. But Luke’s curiosity leads him to a discovery. In other words Luke finds Perfect Harmony in Reader’s bedroom.

Requested: Yes by @averyharrypotterlife​ 

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.7 (including lyrics)

A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the 5000+ followers whether it was years ago and you didn’t unfollow or in the future. Thank you for enjoying and interacting in something I’ve always loved: writing.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Luke’s always been a curious person going as far back as his early childhood. The most consistent evidence being during the Christmas holidays. Until he was ten, yes, he’s aware that his friends stopped believing in Santa way earlier. The young lad would stay up hidden in the living room waiting to catch Santa. Without fail, Luke would wake up in his outer space planet sheets having fallen asleep in his mission.

When he was twelve years old, he was left at his aunt and uncle’s house for the weekend due to a work-related thing. His older cousin was eighteen at the time and at college, so Luke stayed in his bedroom. Luke couldn’t help but snoop through Bryan’s personal items, and in a drawer with a false bottom, he discovered magazines.

Luke had a lot of fun that weekend diligently going through the magazines his mother would skin his hide even knowing about them. He may have had to use the excuse of having a cold for the entire box of Kleenex missing. No one was the wiser on that weekend.

Now when Luke was fourteen years old, he had snuck into the Rated R film Candyman with Alex and Reggie. Luke’s parents had been strict in their rules and definitely had shot down the question of seeing the film. The three didn’t sleep with the lights out for a month after that, and the truth came out when no lie was sufficient to their concerned parents.

Luke Patterson didn’t care about boundaries. Why ask for permission when you can just ask for forgiveness? It worked with going through Julie’s dream box, but all personal items got hidden from the ghostly guitarist.

“No!” Luke exclaimed flipping through his song journal once more in hopes of a blank page. The frustration in his body snapping the pencil he had been using.

“You good?” You questioned glancing up from the essay you graded as a teacher’s assistant for an AP course. Luke’s frustrated brown met yours with a cute pout on his lips.

“I’ve filled my journal up. I hate using loose-leaf, but no money means no buying things.” Luke roughly scrubbed one hand on his face.

“You could always just forever borrow one from the- “Luke quickly shot that down with a look of absolute horror, “Okay…so stealing a no.”

“I did listen to my parents on certain aspects. I would never steal anything, other than the food when we didn’t have enough cash.” Luke’s brown hue had softened back into the hazel that caused flutters in your heart, “I have no respect for thieves.”

You nodded before scribbling a suggestion on the paper in dark red, “I have a shelf in my room dedicated solely to blank journals. If you want to, you can take one free of charge.”

With a quick smile, Luke disappeared from the room to your personal domain he sometimes hung out with you in. You had no misgivings on the teen finding solace in your room and gave him free rein; your prized possessions hidden very well.

Luke appeared in the soft blue and lilac bedroom with the queen white iron wrought style bed in the middle. A white desk in the corner with a multitude of bookcases and shelves in the room. The desk chair neatly pushed into the desk as well he went straight to the shelf.

Journals of all colours and styles with a label on the shelf noting them as empty. It was packed with dozens, but it was the midnight blue one that called to the boy. In his reach, he bumped an emerald green one off the edge. It opened having hit the edge of the desk.

As he leaned down, he noticed notations in the margins, now remember how Luke is a curious guy? He only hesitated a second before he was reading the pages of words in your signature script.

The guilt flared for a second before he justified it as being on the shelf you declared free game. So Luke settled sitting criss-cross against the side of your bed reading the words so eloquently written. Even notes allowed Luke to hear the melody in his mind.

Assignment: Write a piece of literature from two points of views. Genre doesn’t matter as long as it is a minimum of one page and not exceed eight.

Step into my world

Bittersweet love story ’bout a girl

Shook me to the core

Voice like an angel

I’ve never heard before

The words took his breath away, recalling a moment he gushed to Alex on how he had caught you singing. He had described your voice as being angelic, and it took him by complete surprise. He remembered Julie, and you entered the room shortly after with a nervous feeling if you had heard. Now Luke had his answer. His phantom heart pounded in anticipation for the reply to this first point of view.

Here in front of me

They’re shining so much brighter

Than I have ever seen

Life can be so mean

But when he goes, I know he doesn’t leave

The smile threatened to split his face with the elation as he continued reading with a subconscious hum. His fingers tapping the sides of the paper as his hazel irises tinged green ate up the words.

The truth is finally breaking through

Two worlds collide when I’m with you

Our voices rise and soar so high

We come to life when we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

The world faded as Luke distinctly heard your angelic voice singing the parts he could easily recognize as perfect for you. There was something so powerful in this incredibly personal song only intended for your eyes and your teachers.

The next handful of lines left him breathless and astonished as he visualized not sitting across from each other. But engaging in another art form that can be so incredibly intimate for people; he imagined singing this while holding you in his arms.

You set me free

You and me together is more than chemistry

Love me as I am

I’ll hold your music here inside my hands

We say we’re friends, we play pretend

You’re more to me, we’re everything

Our voices rise and soar so high

 We come to life when we’re

 In perfect harmony

 Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

 Perfect harmony

 Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

 Perfect harmony

Luke went from humming to softly singing to the heartfelt tune with a flutter of butterflies deep in his stomach. When Julie saw Unsaid Emily, he had denied it as an experiment, and it was the truth. Luke wrote rock anthems and rock-pop with his living friend. He never dabbled into romantic ones.

He’d never read something so poetically beautiful it felt him weeping at the sheer amount of feelings.

I feel your rhythm in my heart

Yeah yeah yeah

You are my brightest burning star

Whoah whoah oh

I never knew a love so real (so real)

We’re heaven on earth

Melody and words

When we’re together we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

We say we’re friends (we play pretend)

You’re more to me (we create)

Perfect harmony

His eyes found the last line of the song setting him back in a dead silence returning to the start to reread it. On his third read, he found the notes from your teacher on a separate page.

Y/N, in my years of teaching, I’ve never read something with such meaning behind it. The longing, passion, respect and love you artfully encapsulated is rare. To have written, this means you’ve felt this. No corrects needed, and I felt compelled to not mark on the piece. Thank you for being vulnerable with me, for letting me step inside your mind and please never let this emotion fade.

Your grade is A+.

Luke’s lips pulled apart at the genuine words your teacher had written because it indeed was a word of art. Carefully Luke returned the notebook back to the shelf to retrieve the blue one that caught his attention. AS he turned, he found you leaning against the door frame with a soft smile.

“I am so sor-“

“No.” You replied, walking into the room, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I told you any notebook on that shelf. I can’t get mad, and I’ve seen you can’t leave something half-read.”

“Probably why my book reports were insanely well done in school.” Luke joked as you stepped in his personal space. The tension faded from his shoulders as he took in your features, “You got a perfect grade.”

“I did.” You simply spoke, staring up into his eyes, “You helped me with it.”

“How?”

“You told Alex what you felt about my voice. You looked nervous when I walked in, so I let it go. It wasn’t the time to bring it up. It’s called Perfect Harmony.” You told the ghost gently grazing your fingertips on his hand. The feeling sends shudders down his spine.

“I guess it just wasn’t the right time. With the band and-“

“-the whole soul owning thing. Too much but now that you’ve read that…what do you feel?” You hesitantly asked because reading it and discovering how someone feels is another to if the feelings are reciprocated back.

“That I was always meant to live in 2020. That I was meant to love you with every atom in my very being.” Luke murmured before he crashed his lips onto your own in a searing kiss that had your toe-curling.

The midnight blue journal dropped to the floor as his large calloused hands cupped your face to feel the warmth. The very journal would be filled with songs all about this person, Luke adored not matter his state as a ghost. Two worlds collided just as two souls came together in perfect harmony.

So, wrapped up in each other Luke didn’t notice something magical encased in the warm love. In the bedroom, the two teens were kissing in had two distinct heartbeats with a glow emanating from Luke Patterson.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

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[dessarious]

How the Sirens Adopted a Ladybug Pt1

So when I was writing the last chapter of How to Not Get a Date it went full blown angst. Since that wasn’t what I wanted for that story and rewrote the chapter that I posted but the other idea decided to blow up into yet another story so here we go again.

AO3   Next

“I don’t suppose I could convince you not to steal that?” Catwoman spun around to find a girl in what looked like a dark red armored suit with black spots. In the Louvre at two in the morning. What the hell?

“And just what are you supposed to be?” The girl just gave her a sardonic smile and Catwoman couldn’t help but notice how tired she looked.

“I’m Ladybug. Hero of Paris.” The sarcastic tone was unexpected and it took her a minute to actually process the words.

“Since when does Paris have Heroes?”

“Since some megalomaniac found a Miraculous and decided to use it for his own selfish desires. If not for the fact that he targets people with strong negative emotions I wouldn’t care what you do. But since the last time the curator of this exhibit was Akumatized it was a three day battle, I would really like to avoid it if I can.” She just continued to frown at the girl. That couldn’t be real.

“Did Harley and Ivy put you up to this?” That just got her confused frown mirrored back at her. She was either a really good actress or she wasn’t lying.

“Look, this exhibit is moving to London in under two weeks. Could you please just wait until it leaves Paris to take whatever it is you’re after?” This was so strange. She claimed to be a hero but didn’t seem to care that Catwoman was stealing, just that it would become her problem. Even most of the bats frowned upon that sort of thing.

“So you’re just going to let me walk out of here like nothing happened?” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, refusing to make eye contact.

“The police have made it clear that it is not my job to apprehend criminals.” There was a lot of anger under those words. Catwoman walked up to the girl and gently lifted her head so she could study her. Seriously, what was it with black hair and blue eyes? Between the bats and Superman she was starting to wonder if it wasn’t a coincidence.

“When was the last time you slept?” She watched Ladybug’s eyes unfocus as she searched for the answer. “How about the last time you ate?” That produced a flinch.

“I can take care of myself.” Well that wasn’t a good reaction. The girl reminded her a bit of Tim and Jason. The sleep deprivation was all the baby CEO but the amorality screamed mister gun nut.

“I’m sure you can. I’ll tell you what; I’ll do what you want but in return you’ll come with me to meet a couple of my friends and let us feed you.” She hesitated but Catwoman didn’t see any worry in her expression. She wasn’t scared of being alone with criminals so it was likely pride holding her back. “I want to talk to you more about the situation here. It’s odd that I haven’t heard about it.”

“No it’s not. The Miraculous magic is very good at containing itself. Very few people outside of Paris have any idea what is going on.” That tone was odd. There was a trace of bitterness but it was mostly resigned.

“How old are you?” The way she held herself said she was experienced in what she did, but everything else screamed that she was still just a kid.

“Old enough to do what must be done.”  Yep, she was dealing with a baby.

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

“Will you quit worrying? I’m sure everything’s just fine.” Ivy just shot Harley an annoyed glance. She loved the woman to death but she really needed to take things a bit more seriously sometimes.

“She’s two hours late Harls, that’s a time frame for worry. Not to mention I’ve felt off ever since we got here. There’s something wrong with this city and I don’t like it.” She was constantly on edge and her skin felt like it was trying to crawl off her body. Ivy wanted nothing more than for Selina to get back so they could leave. Sightseeing be damned.

“As always your instincts are dead on.” She let out a relieved breath and turned to yell at Selina for trying to give her a heart attack but couldn’t manage to speak once she saw the person with her. Or rather once she felt the power coming off of them. She pulled Harley behind her and prepared for the worst. Selina was just looking at her like she was insane but the girl was studying her.

“Seriously, you’re scared of a kid?” Harley’s words made her really look at the person and that just made her more worried. Given what she felt this girl was capable of destroying the world without even trying.

“How can you not feel that? The energy radiating from her should be enough that even you should feel it.” Harley and Selina both just looked confused but the girl looked surprised.

“You can actually feel it?” Ivy just nodded. “I’ve never met anyone who could sense the Miraculous before. Whatever you sense though, I assure you I don’t mean any harm. There’s only one person I actually want to maim and I have a feeling when the time comes I won’t even be able to do that.” Well that was… odd. Even Harley was eyeing the girl like she had a screw loose.

“This is Ladybug. She’s a hero here in Paris.” Well that at least explained why she was late. “She’s asked me to hold off on my transaction until it leaves Paris.”

“And you agreed? She’s just going to go to the cops and make things more difficult for you later.” Harley’s words caused anger and hurt to flash across her expression before she controlled it.

“I said I wouldn’t. They wouldn’t take me seriously if I did anyway.” Now she saw why Selina brought her back with her. The girl looked like a stray cat. The stiff way she held herself was exactly like a cat who’d learned that people can’t be trusted, but she refused to run or show fear either. Then Ivy noticed the girls hair and eyes and almost groaned out loud. Selina had been spending so much time with her boyfriend that she was picking up his adoption preferences.

“I wanted to talk with her more about what’s going on here in Paris. We should order food since I have a feeling it’s going to be a long discussion.” Ivy saw the girl's cheeks turn pink and took the time to really look at her. She was the kind of thin that came from not eating rather than just being fit. Her mask hid any bags that might be under her eyes, but even standing still her body was swaying a little. The girl looked like she was about to pass out.

“Of course. Here, have a seat.” Ivy made chairs out of plants for everyone and the girl's face went completely blank before she turned to Selina.

“Is that normal for her?” Harley just started giggling but Selina gave Ladybug a sympathetic smile.

“Yes, Ivy has the power to control plants.” Ladybug let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank Kwami. I don’t think I’m up for another Akuma today.” Ivy shared a confused look with Harley. What the hell was an Akuma?

“You’re fighting people that control plants?” The girl blinked at her in confusion for a moment before understanding dawned.

“No, it’s complicated. I haven’t had to explain this to someone in a long time so I might not make much sense.” She sat while Harley went to order food. Ivy sat across from her and noticed how she melted into the seat. She obviously wasn’t used to being comfortable. When Harley came back in the room they were about to start asking questions when a little black cat shaped creature appeared. It was emitting just as much power as the girl.

“I don’t suppose any of you are willing to spring for camembert?” Harley gave out a squeak of surprise but Catwoman just looked stunned.

“Plagg! Are you out of your mind? Not to mention how rude it is.” Ladybug couldn’t seem to decide whether to be annoyed or embarrassed.

“Given that this one steals for a living I doubt they stand on good manners. Besides, you don’t know if you don’t ask.” The cheeky tone caused an eye twitch in the girl.

“What exactly is that?” Selina hadn’t stopped staring at the creature.

“I’m Plagg, Kwami of Destruction. I power the Black Cat Miraculous.” The girl actually threw her hands up in frustration.

“Tikki’s going to kill us both. Of all the people you could have decided to come out for why would you choose criminals?” Poor kid sounded close to tears and the creature flew up under her chin and started purring. Selina was grinning like a mad woman. Ivy had a feeling things were about to get a lot more complicated.

“Everything will be fine Bug, you’ll see. I’m the Kwami of bad luck and I can feel yours shifting.”

“I thought you said you were the Kwami of Destruction?” Selina sounded far too amused. Ivy shook her head at the woman. She still didn’t understand how no one else could feel the danger here.

“I’m both, just as Tikki is the Kwami of Creation and Good Luck, which is the Miraculous that gives Ladybug her powers.” The Kwami suddenly flew right up to Ivy to study her. “You’re an interesting being. Your abilities are inherently creation but you use them to destroy as well. She could be a good influence for you Bug.” Ladybug let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’m not using your powers to smite the people you think have wronged me Plagg. And I would really like to stop having this argument.”  

“You act like it’s an opinion rather than a fact. Even Tikki agrees with me there.” The Kwami sounded indignant and more than a little angry. The energy around it was getting steadily stronger. They really needed to divert it’s attention.

“What were you saying about camembert?” The Kwami perked up immediately but Ladybug cringed.

“Kwami need food to recharge and while just about anything will do in a pinch they each have favorites. Plagg’s favorite is extremely smelly and extremely pricy cheese. Which I haven’t been able to provide for awhile now.” Plagg’s expression dropped at her tone.

“Oh kit, it’s not your fault.” The creature flew back to her and began purring again. Ladybug wouldn’t look anyone in the eye but Ivy could feel the guilt and worry coming from her. Whatever was going on this kid needed a break.

“I just need to go change. Then I can run to the store while we wait for the rest of the food.” Plagg looked ecstatic at Selina’s announcement. Ladybug looked mostly worried but there was a bit of relief under that.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said it was expensive. I feel bad enough, don’t let them guilt you into buying something that isn’t really necessary.” Selina scoffed.

“I know exactly how temperamental some creatures are about food and given Ivy’s reaction I’d like to stay on their good side for the moment. Besides, the money isn’t an issue.” She was walking out of the room before the girl could respond. Instead she frowned at Plagg who was still looking after Selina.

“I thought we agreed no more surprises.”

“Tikki and Wayzz agreed, I didn’t. Besides, an opportunity is presenting itself that we don’t want to miss.” Ivy shared a confused look with Harley, who just shrugged at her. Ladybug seemed just as clueless about what they meant. That couldn’t be a good thing.

AO3      Next

[tobesobri]

Bust | Part One: Chisel (7.8k)

“Disappointed?” She tilted her head, smirking at him. She had no right to think he liked her better than Rose. She, herself, liked Rose better too. So she was sure he had to be at least a little bit sad to see Rose missing.

He smiled and the second she saw those dimples she was reminded of his Instagram all over again.

“A little,” he nodded, pinching his thumb and index finger together in the air and she painfully agreed.

“Well, you get me all by myself tonight.” She didn’t realize how it sounded until it was too late. Until she was cringing at all the sexual insinuations she’d just made for absolutely no reason. She could have said something else that wasn’t laced in an innuendo. But no, of course not. She had to continue her embarrassing streak when it came to Harry.

Instead of being creeped out by her, however, and pulling a confused and slightly terrified face, he laughed. And, on God, his laugh was the most amazing thing she’d ever heard. This wasn’t the first time the sound of his laughter graced her eardrums, but it was the first time he was laughing because of something she said that wasn’t about crooked penises.

“Lucky me.”

In which Y/N is an annoyance in Harry’s sculpting class.

story masterlist | my masterlist

It’s not her forte. Her hands don’t know how to hold onto things. They tremble under pressure. They mess things up no matter how hard she tries.

Not that she had really tried very hard to begin with.

Sculpting was just not something she saw herself doing. Ever. Not with her lack of agility and poor attention to detail. But to appease her whining best friend… she’d do just about anything.

The class was held in a little art studio with large windows for ventilation and tall ceilings to display the mass amounts of student artwork on butcher block shelves. She never thought she’d be back in a classroom type setting after graduating college, but here she was.

Learning, what she proclaimed as, a useless skill.

The studio was smack dab in the middle of an inclined street. Little quaint buildings that sat on an angle because why not pour foundations on a hill and make her weekly walks to the studio a little sweatier than she would have preferred. Even if it was winter in their little beach village town. Sweat still happened. It just happened underneath a scarf and a hand-knitted beanie from the sewing shop next door.

She could not deny, however, that the late afternoon classes every Wednesday and Saturday brought her way more joy than she’d anticipated. She looked forward to meeting up with Rose at the bottom-of-the-hill cafe, sharing the daily special with her before making their way up to the studio. It was calm in the middle and end of her hectic weeks that she most definitely needed.

What she didn’t need, however, what she most certainly did not look forward to, what she could have done without, what took her joy and smashed it against a wall was him.

The instructor.

Harry ‘I have nice hands and a misleading smile’ Styles.

It had only been two weeks into their classes and he had already told her one of her bowls was garbage. That the way she sculpted a face was terrifying. That she couldn’t draw for shit and that made her attempts at sculpting even worse.

So by Saturday of their second week, she didn't care anymore. He was a jerk and she would be the best pain in his ass she knew how to be.

While everyone called him Harry, like he’d asked them to the very first day, she called him Mr. Styles. Just to see the way his eyes rolled back into his head and his nostrils flared. While everyone asked him insightful questions, like what glaze was best to use or what tool sculpted eyes most efficiently, she asked him if she could use the bathroom.

She got a fucking kick out of irritating him. Knowing he went home after their classes just as irritated as she’d been. With clenched fists and a pounding headache.

It helped that he was insanely too attractive to be teaching a bunch of millennials about sculpting in his free time.

“You should really leave him alone, he might kick us out, you know,” Rose said on their first third week walk up Justice Hill. There was no justice in walking uphill, and most fucking certainly not in the humidity-ridden beachside town. She found the street name personally offensive.

“Oh fuck him. If he kicks us out, he’ll have to refund us.” Y/N did not, even for a second, bother to lower her voice as they neared the studio, knowing any one of the other students could hear her if they were to walk by.

“Refund us what? We got the class for free, remember?”

Y/N racked her brain like she’d completely forgotten that little detail before shrugging it off. “Whatever. He won’t kick us out.”

“How do you know for sure?”

Before she could make some stupid remark about how Harry secretly liked her pestering him or about how much he seemed much too impressed by Rose’s progress to ever get rid of them, the devil himself turned the corner in front of them.

He came out from an alleyway that connected the street to a tiny parking lot. And while they were going uphill, he was coming down. He was hard to miss and so were they, but still he attempted to not see them.

“What a prick,” Y/N mumbled under her breath as they got closer to each other. And almost as if he could read her lips, he rolled his eyes so fucking hard she thought maybe they’d finally pop right out of his head this time.

“Shush,” Rose warned as the three of them finally met in the middle, at the door to the studio that was decorated with a bright yellow ‘Open’ sign, children’s drawings, hand-painted hours of operation, and one too many polaroids of past students and their sculpting creations.

They all stood and stared at each other for a moment before he opened the door first, holding it as, to Y/N’s surprise, he let them go in first. And while she was still in shock at the gesture, his body language said it all. Like he was forcing himself to be nice to the dynamic duo, to the bane of his existence. While she was too distracted by Harry and his clay-stained trousers and cable-knit sweater with a cartoon deer embroidered on it, Rose walked into the studio first. Giving Harry a polite smile that he returned almost… genuinely.

And right when Y/N made a move to follow, Harry stepped in front of her. She jolted back as he just about let the door slam her in the face.

Today was going to be fantastic.

*                                              *                                 *

“Right, so,” Harry began, clapping his dry hands together as he took a seat behind his messy table at the front of the studio. “I know some of you haven’t finished your heads yet, but our focus today will still be on the bodies. We’ll have a catch up on Saturday to make up for it.”

Y/N sought out her head on the wall where she’d placed it last week beside Rose’s, realizing for the first time just how ugly it really was. And to think she’d been trying to sculpt Harry’s annoying face. Even more annoying that no matter what she did, he was always a lot more handsome than her hunk of polymer clay.

“... because, like I mentioned, we have special guests today who will be modeling for you.” Harry stood again while two very thin and very conventionally perfect people came out in white robes. Y/N couldn’t help but gag.

“This is Hope and Jordan.” Harry motioned as he introduced them, not getting any further in his instructions before Y/N raised her hand in the back of the class.

Rose attempted to get her to put it down, too, because Harry was clearly in the middle of something, but it didn’t really work out so well. Y/N was a stubborn son of a bitch.

“Yeah?” He pointed at her, sighing while planting his hands on his hips. He knew nothing she had to ask was going to be at all beneficial to the group.

She cleared her throat and just from the smirk on her face, he braced for impact. “Are they going to be modeling nude?”

She made just about everyone blush, except for Harry. He hated how she never took anything seriously. That the art he’d spent years perfecting enough to teach meant nothing to her. It was all just a primary school joke in her eyes.

“Yes, actually,” he answered bluntly and then returned to what he was going to say before Y/N’s interruption. “So I want everyone to get a piece of paper and while they’re modeling, do a rough sketch of what you might want the body of your sculpture to look like. The importance is to get the proportions down so that when you use the clay, you’ll know how much you’ll need for each part. Just like we did for the heads.”

Harry walked around the class once the models were stripped and the sketching began. Rose started immediately, concentration on her face as she flipped between the female model and her piece of sketchbook paper.

All Y/N had was a scratch piece of grey-toned mixed media paper she’d found laying on their table. And absolutely no clue where to even begin.

She stared at Harry instead of the naked models, watching as he helped others around the room, pointing at their sketches and where they could improve. His other hand behind his back that gave her perfect access to stare at his rings. Remembering how he’d taken them off guide their first few sculpting lessons. Remembering how his hands had so gently but so fucking firmly caressed the mound of clay into the exact shapes he wanted like he knew exactly what to do with those things.

“See it’s going just as I expected back here.” When his voice was at her ear, she jumped out of her skin and out of her daydreams. Twisting her head around to him as he stood behind her, she found him staring over her shoulder at her blank piece of paper.

She narrowed her eyes at him once she’d fully processed what he said. “Sorry I’m trying to figure out the best way to scale up that dude’s micro-cock, proportionally, if you don’t mind.”

He just about choked on his own spit, and rightfully so. But when he glanced to her eyes instead of her disappointing blank canvas, with his eyebrows furrowed and his cute little nostrils flared just the way she liked them, it was clear his reaction wasn’t for the reasons she’d intended.

He was quiet. Lips pursed, mind completely empty apart from hearing her say cock over and over again. Echoing against his skull. Making a home for itself in his hippocampus for later purposes. When he was not in a class full of students with their eyes on him, watching him get hard at the fucking way she said cock.

“Leave you to it then,” he cleared his throat and continued on.

“He may not kick us out, but killing you is still an option,” Rose whispered once Harry was a safe distance away from them.

Y/N leaned back in her seat to watch him walk down the rest of their row. His hands behind his back again, eyes wandering over shoulders.

As long as he had those rings on while he choked her out, she was okay with that.

*                                              *                                 *

Everyone had moved on to their bodies. Gathering the clay they needed from the front and using their sketches as guidelines to build around the pre-made wire and aluminum foil armature. Most everyone had some sort of a form being attached to the heads of their sculptures by the time Y/N even got started.

Because she decided on using Harry as reference after all and he would just not stand still.

With the models gone, they were on their own, with help from Harry of course. He played several videos and gave various demonstrations to aide them. It wasn’t supposed to be perfect, but after she gave it her all for about ten minutes, she was ready to give up. Her body looked like a very lumpy, very deformed version of Shrek.

She took a break again, watching Rose sculpt for a while instead. She watched Harry sometimes too as he walked around the class again in gloves this time. Smoothing out features and picking up tools to aid in the process of forming collarbones and wrinkles.

The studio was in its typical state of disarray. Random cups of milky water on every table, pieces of clay smushed into the tile floor, tools and used gloves strewn about with no rhyme or reason. Harry thrived in that kind of environment while Y/N well… she hated it.

She wanted organization and cleanliness. Her nine-to-five called for that kind of thing. But she was slowly getting used to it. To letting go and embracing the mess while she was here. She wasn’t the one that had to clean it all up anyways.

The only time she wasn’t daydreaming was when Harry started up their aisle again, walking in front of their table this time however. He helped a couple others at the end of their row, watched some of them work before eventually landing right in front of Rose’s station.

He cocked his head to the side while he watched her struggle to form an even pair of breasts on her headless lady. And even though Y/N was trying her best to look busy, she just couldn’t help it.

Rose handed her work in progress over to him with a frustrated huff after he offered his assistance. And like… no way was Y/N missing out on Mr. Harry fucking Styles fingering some clay into the perfect set of boobs. No way.

Especially fucking not when he removed his gloves and used those fingers in their bare glory the way she wished he’d use them someplace else. She watched while he slapped some more clay on Rose’s poor flat-chested model and proceeded to smooth it out with his expert fingertips. She watched the clay melt under his touch, watching him dip into their shared cup of water to aid the process. She looked away long enough to admire the concentration on his face, the way he bit down on his lip and furrowed his brows the way she was used to. She watched again while he fixed all of Rose’s mistakes just by gliding his thumbs over the two perfect little lumps on her sculpture that sure as hell hadn’t started out so perfectly.

She had no idea why Harry sculpting a tiny set of breasts on what would eventually become a mermaid got her so hot and bothered but… it did. It did so fucking much, she was almost salivating like a dog by the end of it, thinking about what his hands could do with the real deal. But then he handed it back to Rose with a content smile on his face and burst Y/N’s little bubble.

“Might be better,” he said softly and Rose nodded in agreement. She hadn't noticed before, but when he stood to his full height it was clear he’d been leaning over on their table. Closer to the both of them than he’d ever really been before. And she knew he was tall, taller than Rose, who was five foot seven inches herself. And not just that but his shoulders were broad and his arms were a humble amount of muscular. Almost like he was a sculptor that kneaded clay a hundred hours a week. Maybe that was why she was a soaking wet mess.

He stretched his gloves back onto his hands and glanced Y/N’s direction. Eyes going straight from her disaster of an art piece to her flushed face and back.

“Don’t even know where to start to fix yours up,” he commented while moving slightly to his right until he stood directly in front of Y/N this time.

She looked at her abomination, wondering if it would be her worst idea to push more of his buttons or not. But, she went for it anyways. Her lack of impulse control would definitely come back to bite her in the ass one day.

“It’s the penis. Still haven’t gotten that down yet.”

He nodded, amused rather than his previous reaction to her antics. “Can see that, yeah. He’s got a bit of a crooked willy there.” Harry poked at it with his index finger and she became hyper aware of his closeness this time while he leaned over her tabletop again. Because his hands were right there, almost touching her own. And they were big, bigger than she realized. She could see him perfectly through the transparent gloves, his long fingers with clipped nails at the end that were well taken care of, considering.

She would need to soak herself in holy water for a while after this.

“Oh, is that not what the male anatomy looks like?” She teased, not fully realizing they were getting along for the first time and it was because of dicks. Because she’d put an oddly shaped protrusion on her figure before she’d even done much else with the blob of clay stuck to her form.

“No,” he laughed, shaking his head at her and standing up straight again. “Maybe if you paid attention when the models were out here, you’d know that.”

“Maybe if you hired someone who’s cock I could actually see from all the way back here without a fucking magnifying glass.” She was only slightly aware of how fully immersed she was in the debate over this penis.

But all he heard was cock again. She really needed to stop saying that. Because this time his mind was a little more imaginative while he stared at her lips and thought about the way she might say that on her knees in front of him.

He shook his head clear. She was an insufferable nuisance that he just barely tolerated on a good day. He didn't need her clogging up his brain with her cock talk too.

“Just fix it.” He mumbled.

She huffed when he left her to her own devices, not even bothering to offer his help, but she really shouldn’t expect any less. If he helped her, he would be doing it all for her. And that was hardly the point of taking a class to learn how to sculpt if the hot instructor was just going to do everything for you.

“Is there a reason why you’re arguing with him about penises?” Rose asked, hushing her voice around the apparently taboo word.

“It’s fun. And if I’m going to sit here in this stupid class with you I’m going to have some fun.” Y/N, on the other hand, was not hushed or subtle at all, as she ripped off the phallic piece of clay from her sculpture.

Rose cringed when she glanced past Y/N to find Harry looking right at her. He had been helping someone a few seats down and clearly not far enough away to have missed what Y/N said. All of his features drooped and he looked genuinely upset. Rose wished she could put a filter over Y/N’s mouth to save everyone from her insensitive outbursts. Especially Harry. He always tried so hard and for Y/N to brush everything off and boil it all down to a ‘stupid class’ even broke Rose’s heart a little. So she could only imagine how Harry felt.

After their typical hour and a half was up, once everyone at least had some semblance of a body minus the legs and arms, Harry called the class back to order.

“Alright, that’s time. You can put your armatures back on the shelves, carefully. As always, I’ll be around for a little while after. Have a great rest of your night, I’ll see you all on Saturday.” He finished his spiel, turning away to help clean up before a lightbulb went off in his head and his voice rang through the studio again, “Oh, and make sure you bring your sketches back with you!”

Everyone worked on cleaning up, including Harry. And while Y/N took both her and Rose’s sculptures over to their respective spots on the shelves, Rose walked up to the front of the class without any warning whatsoever.

She tapped Harry’s shoulder and watched while his smile faded just the tiniest bit after he turned to find her. That Rose’s poor face had to be associated with the thunderstorm that was Y/N.

“I just wanted to say sorry… about Y/N.” Both Rose and Harry glanced at the girl in question near the back of the studio, playing with their two sculpted bodies like they were barbie dolls. “I forced her to do this with me so she hasn’t really taken it seriously. But I’m really enjoying the class, you’re a fantastic instructor.”

His smile returned again and if he was being honest with himself, it really did make him feel better to hear her say that. He had some sort of a reasoning for Y/N’s horrible attitude and while he wished it was her apologizing and not Rose, he figured it was good enough.

“Thank you. You’re doing really well so far. I’ll see you on Saturday, yeah?”

She nodded, giving him one last polite smile before trotting back to Y/N and helping her clean up the last bits around their workstation.

“Please do not tell me you were flirting with him.” Y/N gagged, using a ball of clay to gather the little pieces spread across their table like a magnet.

“No, actually, I was apologizing to him for your behavior.”

Y/N snapped her head up, first at Rose and then Harry all the way across the room from them. “You what?”

“He’s just trying to teach and you’ve been a fucking knobhead.”

Y/N gasped in fake offense, which was actually slightly real offense. “Excuse me, he made fun of my bowl the first day, you seem to have forgotten about that.”

“A toddler could have made a better bowl than that, Y/N, and you know it.”

She frowned, grumpily averting her eyes to the table with her arms crossed over her chest like she really was a toddler.

“I’m just saying,” Rose started, a bit calmer this time, “stop pestering him.”

*                                              *                                 *

Y/N thought about everything Rose had said. About how much she wished she could take things seriously and not constantly get on people’s nerves all the time, but she simply did not know how to. Taking the piss out of things and making jokes was how she got through her days.

But she did agree. Harry didn’t deserve her behavior. Maybe he was a bit of a jerk to her to begin with, but insulting his class might’ve been crossing a line.

Because she didn’t actually think it was stupid. She quite enjoyed listening to him. She liked learning something new and following his instructions as he walked them through some of his techniques. She liked being connected to all the people in the little studio, even if only briefly. Complete strangers all shared that one little thing in common and it made her all fuzzy and warm inside each time she met up with Rose at the end of every Wednesday and Saturday.

Hiding behind a bit of humor, however, was a lot more comfortable than admitting she found pleasure in anything as corny as sculpting classes.

On Friday night, boredom got the best of her and she took a chance upon searching Harry’s name on Instagram while she took her weekly bath. It had been Rose’s idea, the bath, not stalking her attractive sculpting instructor online. That decision was completely her own. But the baths at the end of stressful weeks had a little influence from her best friend, as did most aspects of her life. Baths were a waste of time, in her opinion, and she preferred the efficiency of showering. But Rose had given her nice smelling soaps and weird fizzy things for bath time and well… she couldn’t let them go to waste.

So, amid her regularly scheduled, once-a-week bath, she scrolled shamelessly through Harry’s feed. Because he did, in fact, have an instagram. And she only knew it was him because every fourth post was a video and in said videos were his hands. And, fuck, they were just as nice on film as they were in person.

He didn’t post much of his face, which she thought was an actual crime, but there was a lot about him and his sculpting. She found out it had been his sister’s birthday recently, who, when she smiled, looked just like him. He’d also just finished a piece he seemed really proud of, a clay head and bust of a pit bull, to which he linked in the caption about a local shelter who rescued the breed specifically and needed donations. Her heart nearly fucking melted.

Harry wasn’t much of an open book, though, unless he let his art do most of the talking. He seemed to enjoy sculpting women the most, which is probably why he’d been so good at de-lumping the breasts on Rose’s mermaid. But all the female sculptures he made weren’t sexual at all. They had meaning behind them. Like every single clay face she clicked on throughout his photos had a story. Like he was uplifting rather than fetishizing.

And not every single one of them was skinny and had perfect features. She was shocked to see at least half of the creations she’d skimmed through were of larger women with imperfect breasts at times and asymmetrical faces. Not sticking to typical European beauty standards as she may have originally assumed he might.

It made glancing down at her very much imperfect body feel a little less like an attack. Because Harry spent his time putting all his love into his little sculptures with diverse body types that she almost felt ashamed for ever hating hers.

Once she was done clicking on just about every single post he’d ever made, she finally found a selfie. Well… not really a selfie. Someone else had clearly taken it of him candidly while he had been working. But there was an awfully cute smile on his face and very familiar dimples poking into his cheeks that make her heart warm up again.

He wasn’t a damn thing like she’d assumed he was from the beginning. She thought his art centered around the ideal, and that maybe he was a little condescending because of it. But his Instagram told a different story about his art. And she wanted to know so much more about him.

She was completely lost in her dreams about him that just the smidge of distraction led to accidentally liking a photo of his from two years prior.

She’d have to move countries. Change her name. Delete everything. Never look back. Y/N? A distant memory.

Before dropping her phone in the tub and really making a complete ass out of herself, she threw it, instead, onto her furry rug in the middle of the bathroom and sunk herself down into the water. Wondering if it would really be so bad if she just drowned a little bit.

Because she desperately wanted to. There was nothing she could do. Not even unliking the picture would help. He’d still see the notification. Still click onto her page and realize who in the fuck had just liked a two-year-old post of his that he, himself, had probably even forgotten about.

She wanted nothing more than to sink her head under the pink-tinted water and never come back up. Her mind would not stop with the visualizations of what his reaction might be. Things he might be thinking. Like is this that fucking bitch from my sculpting class? Or whether or not she might find herself blocked by morning.

God, just make it stop.

But suddenly her phone buzzed and her heart just about stopped beating. It had to be the notification that Harry blocked her. Was that even a thing? Did Instagram notify you if someone blocked you? And why was her phone on silent? Because her Instagram notifications and her text messages made very different sounds. If it was just a text, she’d consider ignoring it. She’d continue marinating in all her shame a little while longer. But it ate her alive not knowing what the buzzing was from.

So, carefully, she pulled herself upright and reached across the floor until she had her phone in her hand. Before she clicked the screen on, though, she closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath.

But when she opened her eyes and found out why her phone had buzzed, she let that breath out and settled her ass down again. It was Rose.

Hey, I can’t make it tomorrow for class. Felt like absolute shit at work today and had to go home because as it turns out I have the flu.

“Fuck,” Y/N mumbled to herself. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to go alone because facing Harry after she just did what she did was one thing, but doing it all by herself was another. But a part of her did still want to go tomorrow. The part before her horrific accident when she was full on getting a love boner over Harry. She’d wanted to see him again so fucking bad.

Okay. I probably won’t go too then

Y/N physically frowned at the idea of waiting another five days to see Harry again. Her brain really needed to make its fucking mind up about him. Did she want to see him or not?

No! You have to go and tell me what I missed!

Y/N rolled her eyes, but felt relieved. Even after her embarrassing slip up, her desire to see Harry again still prevailed. And she hated it. How was she even supposed to look him in the eye tomorrow, both of them knowing damn well she’d been stalking his Instagram back to two fucking years ago?

*                                              *                                 *

It was beyond weird sitting in their usual cafe on Justice Hill alone, even without the whole Instagram fiasco of the previous night she was trying everything in her power to forget about.

However all the desperate attempts to bury that awful experience were fruitless when she glanced across the room over her latte and found a very familiar set of grumpy-looking eyes already staring at her. But once she did notice him, he immediately looked away, stepping up to the counter to order his own cup of coffee.

She nearly choked on her drink, having to set it down and wipe what had spilled onto her chin off with a napkin she’d already used to sop up another one of her messes.

Of the three weeks now they’d been going to classes and frequenting the cafe just before, she’d never seen Harry. It was like he didn’t have a life outside being an instructor. He just popped up in the studio and she always left before him so she had no idea what he did after class either.

But seeing him here was like seeing a fucking unicorn in real life.

She couldn’t help watching him either, even if she knew she shouldn't. But, in her defense, he was wearing beautiful wine-colored corduroy pants with a tight white t-shirt tucked into them and a beige coat thrown over his arm to match. And for shoes he had on his usual white vans that had gained a few more scuff marks since the last time she’d seen him. His fashion would look terrible on anyone besides him.

He glanced her way again, briefly, when he left the counter with his cup, fighting his legs from walking in her direction but not exactly winning that battle.

And to her surprise, he stood right in front of her, behind the chair where Rose usually sat.

And when she looked up at him, he completely forgot why he had come over. He had no fucking clue what he was doing there. But it was too late now for him to back away and pretend like it never happened.

“Your friend's not coming?” His voice shook, but she didn’t notice with the way he finally took his fucking eyes off of her and gave her a chance to breathe again. He glanced at his watch just to confirm that it was, in fact, only five minutes until class started and it seemed reasonable to assume Rose wasn’t meeting her before then.

She pulled herself together and pretended like his close presence wasn’t intimidating her in the slightest.

“Disappointed?” She tilted her head, smirking at him. She had no right to think he liked her better than Rose. She, herself, liked Rose better too. So she was sure he had to be at least a little bit sad to see Rose missing.

He smiled and the second she saw those dimples she was reminded of his Instagram all over again.

“A little,” he nodded, pinching his thumb and index finger together in the air and she painfully agreed.

“Well, you get me all by myself tonight.” She didn’t realize how it sounded until it was too late. Until she was cringing at all the sexual insinuations she’d just made for absolutely no reason. She could have said something else that wasn’t laced in an innuendo. But no, of course not. She had to continue her embarrassing streak when it came to Harry.

Instead of being creeped out by her, however, and pulling a confused and slightly terrified face, he laughed. And, on God, his laugh was the most amazing thing she’d ever heard. This wasn’t the first time the sound of his laughter graced her eardrums, but it was the first time he was laughing because of something she said that wasn’t about crooked penises.

“Lucky me.”

He left her so fucking speechless, that after he started backing away from her table, reminding her to not be late, she still ended up being late. Because she sat in her chair for what felt like a century repeating his two words over and over again in her head.

Lucky me.

She knew he was only teasing but the way he’d just gone along with her original joke and how his voice sounded when he said it, she could not believe it. She could also not believe how Harry had some kind of massive hold on her that she sat staring at a wall for ten minutes trying to figure out how to operate properly again just to get up out of her chair.

Lucky fucking me.

She could scream.

If she wasn’t in public.

There was an extra pep in her step as she took Justice Hill alone this time, partially because of how giddy Harry had made her and partially because she was late… right after he told her not to be. But how was she supposed to be on time after what he’d just done to her emotions. And to the throbbing mess between her legs, but that's another story entirely.

Everyone was all over the place when she’d finally arrived, though, so it made slipping in the back that much easier. Not that she got past Harry’s watchful eyes, though, but at least she wasn’t interrupting anything while the class readied their workstations for another full night of going ham on their sculptures.

Harry kept his eyes on her mostly the entire time she did the same at her empty little area, watching as she tucked her purse under the desk for safekeeping and threw a couple tools he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her use onto the table. When she wandered off to the wall of shelves to retrieve her absolutely horrifying work of art, he finally gave her some privacy again. But he couldn’t help the fact that he’d been worried sick when she didn’t show up on time after he’d just seen her at the cafe, thinking something horrible could have happened to her between there and here.

So making sure she was unscathed before he, too, got his area organized was essential.

She sat in her chair and stared at what she had made the past three weeks. They’d started with something simple on the first day, taking a pre-cut slice of clay and free-handing a bowl with a few tips from Harry thrown in here and there. Then they jumped straight in after he showed them a few clips of sculptors working, pausing to explain specific things about creating a head and face. They were given everything they needed to make sculpting a complete figurine of a human body as easy as possible.

And still, she managed to create a combination of Shrek and the abominable snowman.

She huffed, wondering if she asked nicely enough Harry would let her just start all over. But before she could even think to do so, he clapped his hands together and got everyone’s attention for today’s mini-tutorial.

He explained smoothing to them and how there were many different ways of doing it so that your end results weren't littered in fingerprints. He reminded them to use water to smooth out the initial shapes of the clay they wanted and if they were having a really hard time with too much warmth from their fingers to use the gloves.

He ventured a little into detail work of the bust, showing a short clip of another artist forming collar bones with just two tools and her fingers. He explained what tools those were and why they were the most efficient for details and went on some more about other detail tools that were good for different things.

And the entire time she was far too lost in his voice and how his eyes lit up passionately when he rambled to even think about the fact that she wasn’t taking a single note for Rose’s sake.

They’d done a few lessons on details for the face, but they had yet to really get that far, only having put on tentative eyelids, lips and a nose for their heads before he really dove deep into details in what she assumed would be a full class later on.

And when he finally took a break to ask for any questions, she was, of course, the first to raise her hand. He thought about ignoring it, knowing all too well that anytime Y/N raised her hand in the back of his classroom, she was up to no good. But he was too nice to do that to anyone, even her.

So he called on her by nodding his head and she cleared her throat while he grimaced, expecting the worst.

“So, um, for example if we were going to do bigger details like abs on a male figure, what would be the best tool for that?”

He could have sworn he was having a heart attack. He had to blink a few times just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. She was actually asking him a legitimate question, and a good one at that. He had to repeat what she said in his head first, just to make sure it was real, before he answered, completely unprepared.

“Um… well after you lay out the clay where you want on the body, you can use one of the knives to blend the edges,” he held up an example of one for her, “and then a large ball or oval tool like this,” he held up another, “to smooth everything out. You’d probably want a more blunt pointed end to shape them, though, after you blend the clay in.”

She nodded like she’d been fully absorbing every single word coming out of his mouth and then he watched as she dug around quietly in the tool kit on her desk, in search of the types of tools he’d mentioned.

He could not fucking believe it though. She finally showed a stitch of interest in learning about sculpting. And he had no idea why she decided to right now. Maybe it was because she was without her partner in crime, but either way he was stunned. Absolutely fucking marveled.

After a few more questions and some demonstrations, he let everyone go and continue working on their projects while he circled the room as he normally did. And he found himself glancing at her from time to time, all by herself in the back with a genuine look of concentration on her face as she attempted making her creature a little less loch ness monster and a little more human.

Eventually, after he figured she was giving it enough effort for him to step in and help if she needed, he headed her way. And just as she sensed him walking down her aisle, while she was busy shaving off clay, a piece of it went flying into the air, completely out of control.

He stopped in his tracks after almost being smacked in the face with a chunk of clay and bent over to pick it up before someone squished it into the bottom of their shoes. He leaned over the edge of the table in front of her again, setting the piece of clay down next to her gently while she bit her lips between her teeth and tried to hide her embarrassed red cheeks behind her hands.

“Sorry!” She squealed at him, further digging herself into a hole.

He shook his head, “S’alright. Not the first time that’s happened.”

She laughed at the thought of him actually getting hit in the money maker with a hunk of clay and it eased her worries a little.

“So how are those abs going then?” He asked.

She stared at her sculpture for a moment before she sighed and turned it around to face him. It wasn’t as bad as it had been before, but it was still pretty rough.

“Mind if I…?” He held his hands out and she, without a single hesitation, handed it over to him.

He immediately grabbed the shaving tool she’d been using, and since it still sat next to her where she’d put it down moments ago, his fingers brushed against her hand when he picked it up. Sending every one of her nerves in the general area on a field day to mess with her nether regions again. It’s just… his fucking hands were an art form in and of themselves. His knuckles prominent, stretching soft skin around the bone. His veins protruding every time he made a more delicate move that required precision. Even the ones on his arms underneath the ink when he was a bit more rough with her sculpture sent her over the moon, while he shaved off bits and pieces with firm pressure to define the shape of the body and somehow create a human-like figure from her mess.

Then he started smoothing down the surface with a little water on his fingers and she went batshit. His hands while dry were one thing, but sparkling, wet, slippery fingertips? Lord have mercy.

She watched him spread a chunk of extra clay onto what would be the figure’s chest to build it up a little more with the knowledge of their previous conversations about dicks and abs making it clear she was attempting to make a male figure. She couldn’t help but watch his muscles flex underneath his tight white t-shirt. From far away across the cafe it had caught her attention. And now right here, she was definitely not letting it go unnoticed. It wasn’t too tight that he looked ridiculous, but just the right amount to show off every curve of his biceps and triceps and whatever other -ceps he had hiding underneath the shirt. He was normally in oversized tops so she was taking full advantage while she still had the chance to.

When he handed it back to her, it was like he’d done some kind of magic spell to get it to look so good after what she’d given him to work with. He leaned forward a little more and pointed at the figure’s chest and she was only halfway paying attention to him when he spoke, mostly focusing on how close he was and every single time he accidentally brushed his skin against hers.

“So if you want to make the abs,” he paused to glance over and dig through her pile of tools until he found the one he was looking for. “Use this to kind of sketch out the shape like we did with the faces,” he took the ball tool and rolled it down the middle of the chest, making a short indent to separate where the pectorals might be, “then you can add on the dimension like I was saying earlier.”

She took over the tool when he flipped it around and gave it to her so she could try for herself. And he watched for a short while as she did what he said to do, sketching out tentative abs, but not really knowing exactly what they looked like to come to any sort of realistic end. Her figure started to look like a shirtless Johnny Bravo.

He just giggled and pointed his stupid finger back into her personal space, smoothing down her mistakes until they disappeared, “Have you never seen a six-pack that wasn’t on a cartoon character?”

She racked her brain, trying to say something funny, but once she looked into his eyes, nothing came to mind. “Of course I have. I just don’t know how to make them look realistic.” She couldn’t exactly remember the last time she’d been faced with a naked man’s chest, but she had seen them before.

“Well…” Harry sighed, resting his head on his hand and staring at her sculpture sideways, “he doesn’t have to have abs.”

And then she said it. Something worse than her earlier set of words back at the cafe. She had no clue what was going on with her tonight, but she needed an ass-kicking for it.

“Do you have abs?”

“Me?” His eyes flickered up to hers in shock and it was far too late for her to backtrack, she was here and she had to face what she’d done. Even while he looked at her like she was fucking insane.

“Uh, well. I mean…” She had no fucking clue what she meant. And even if she did, she sure as shit wasn’t telling him.

Then it clicked in his brain. “You’re not using me as reference, are you?”

After a solid three seconds of just staring at him, she laughed. “No, of course not.”

“Hope so after you gave him that wonky penis.”

She sighed once they were through it. Once he’d proved, yet again, that he didn’t make her embarrassing statements feel as bad as they really were. He kind of just... went along with it.

But then she made it even worse.

“So yours isn’t wonky and crooked, then?”

Jesus, fuck Y/N just shut up.

His smile never faded, however, and instead, he leaned close again and whispered, “Maybe one day you’ll be lucky enough to find out.”

[soundsgoodfeelslikeshit]

She Was Almost Right.

princezukohere said:

Can you do an imagine where the reader is dating JJ and while she’s on a short trip her mom pays a kook or some girl to basically set him up and prove that he’s not worth it. He doesn’t go through with it but he almost does or something but just like angsty and stuff 

Summary: You and JJ had been best friends since you met. Best friends quickly turned into more after the years of mindless flirting you both had done. Throughout all of this your mom never liked JJ, she’d mention how he was trouble and would only drag you down every chance she got. While she planned a weekend to the mainland to visit your cousin, she paid none other than Amelia Vanwhal, kook princess, to flirt with JJ and see if he would cheat on you. 

Warnings: cussing, teenage drinking, borderline abusive parents, mentions of cheating 

“Babe how long will you be?” JJ questioned as you threw random clothes into your suitcase. 

“Hopefully, just a few days. My cousin just needs help with baby shopping.” You said looking at him. 

He sighed and nodded. 

“That means I can’t kiss you for a few days.” He groaned, resting his hands on your hips. 

“You’ll be fine.” You smiled giving him a quick peck. 

He watched as you threw in some panties and bras and then zipped your suitcase. You sighed and then laid next to him. 

“You okay, Bub?” 

“Yeah, just not excited to be on a long ferry ride with my mom.” You sighed and turned on your side. 

“It won’t be that bad. You could always go and sit in the lounge away from her.” 

“She only has time to talk bad about you, and you know I can’t tolerate that.” 

“Just try to keep your temper under control.” He said, running his hand along your bare thigh. 

You sighed and nodded, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. He mumbled and pulled you closer to him, resting his chin on your head. 

................................................................................................................................ “Y/N get the fuck up now.” Your mom yelled, causing you and JJ to jump up. 

“What mom,” You groaned, rubbing your eyes. 

“You know I don’t allow sleepovers, he needs to leave by 12 and you need to put pants on. I don’t even want to know what you were doing.” She glared. 

“We didn’t do anything, but there you go again...always something you just can’t let it be.” You said standing up. 

“Oh please, he just wants one thing, he’ll probably cheat on you before the summer’s over. You know he’s nothing but trouble.” She said with a laugh. 

“Get out of my room.” You said walking towards your door. 

“JJ, I’m sorry. She doesn’t know when to stop.” You said with tears in your eyes. 

He shook his head and stood up, wrapping his arms around you carefully. He pulled your chin up and sighed. 

“She’s probably right. Wherever I go trouble follows, you deserve better.” 

“No. You don’t get to say that. There is no one better than you, my mom doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” You said, running your hands up his back. 

“I should go. Try and get some rest, I’ll text you when I get home.” He said placing a kiss to your lips before leaving your room. 

You wiped a tear from your eye and kicked your door shut. This always happened, but he never reacted that way to her words. You were stumped to know why they effected him the way they did now. You turned your ringer on and climbed in bed, pulling your blanket over your body as you tried to sleep. 

You stayed up all night waiting for a text that never came. You glared at your phone as you grabbed it and texted JJ, and then John B to see if he’d heard from JJ or if JJ had shown up last night. 

You grabbed your suitcase and your backpack before heading downstairs to load the car up. You sat in the car waiting for your mom and then you were on the road. You tried to ignore her words for the most part, but when she mentioned how JJ would fall for Ameila you glared at her. 

“Yeah, mom. JJ is totally gonna fall for a kook princess. He despises them, what is wrong with you? Why do you want this to go bad huh? You don’t even know him!” You said with a frown. 

“Your dad was the same exact way, surfer boy with no care in the world. Couldn’t be tied down. You don’t want to be with someone like him.” 

“Yeah, mom I’m sorry but I would much rather stay with dad than you. I think you forget he doesn’t treat me like shit. Oh but you don’t notice.” You said with a laugh as you got out of the car and headed towards the ferry lounge. 

You pulled your phone out to see a text from John B. 

John B: 

Yeah he got here last night, slightly drunk. Everything alright? 

You: 

Yep. Didn’t get a text from him last night, or a response this morning. Wanted to make sure he’s okay, thanks. 

You put your phone away with a sigh. Your thoughts running wild with everything that could go wrong while you were gone. Now wasn’t a time to go away when your boyfriend wouldn’t even talk with you. You shook the thought and tried to be positive while you approached the mainland. 

................................................................................................................................

Once you returned back from your trip you made plans to see the pogues. It’d been a week and a half and you were excited to see your friends and your boyfriend. You hadn’t anticipated being gone that long. You sent a quick text, changed into a swimsuit and then headed to the Chateau. 

You were met with silence as you opened the door. The pogues sat no where in your sight and you looked around with confusion running over your body. Sighing, you turned towards the dock and saw them sitting by the boat. 

“Hey,” You smiled as you walked to them. 

“Oh hey, Y/N. Long time no see,” Pope said averting eye contact. 

You raised an eye brow as all the pogues looked around, avoiding eye contact with you. 

“Did I do something?” You questioned, sadly. 

“No, JJ and you need to talk though.” John B said patting your back as he walked away with Kie and Pope in tow. 

You looked at your boyfriend who hadn’t texted you once while you were gone. He couldn’t even look at you. You grabbed his chin and forced him to look at your eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“She was almost right, I’m sorry - so sorry.” He said, pushing your hand away from his chin. 

You stared at him with confusion on your face, and then it quickly turned to that of anger. You could see your friends standing close enough to break anything up, but far enough away for privacy. 

“Who was almost right J, I’m not a fucking mind reader.” You said, already knowing what he was meaning. 

“Your mom, she was right. I - I almost cheated.” He said. 

You took a step back and stared at him. Your silence caused him to look at you. He was worried because your face was completely blank. 

“I was gone for not even two weeks. Are you fucking kidding me? You can’t even go two fucking weeks without needing to be with someone. Who the fuck are you?! This isn’t the JJ I’ve known since we were kids, he - he would never do something like this.” You screamed throwing your hands up. 

“I -” He started, but you were quick to cut him off. 

“No I don’t care. I don’t want to hear your excuses or your half-assed apologies. I quite frankly don’t give a fuck anymore. You know how I feel about cheating, even if it didn’t fucking happen.” You said, your anger quickly causing you face to flush and tears to appear. 

Your friends were rushing towards you as you looked like you could hurt the boy sat in front of you. 

“Who was it with?” You questioned as he stared at you. 

“Who the fuck was it with JJ?!” You screamed. 

“Amelia. Amelia Vanhal. She - she was trying to push herself on me, I almost gave in. I was drunk, I thought she was you.” He said, letting his gaze fall to the ground. 

“She - she you know what.” You said with a laugh. You started to walk towards him and you were quickly pulled back by John B who was worried what you might do. 

“Let go, I’m not going to do anything to him. He’s not who I want to hurt.” You said with a laugh. Your friends looked at you like you were insane. 

“I’ll be back.” You said swinging your keys as you walked towards your car. 

“Uh, maybe we should go after her.” Kie said quickly. 

................................................................................................................................ You pulled up to your house to see if your mom was still home and smiled when you saw her car. You ran inside and looked at her talking with some girl in the kitchen. 

“Hey mom, we need to have a little chat.” 

“Hold on, I’m busy with Amelia. Almost finished.” She said pulling her wallet out of her purse. 

“I knew you fucking set that shit up. You’re a piece of shit, you know that? AMelia you’re the biggest fucking whore on the island, please try and be less desperate. My boyfriend would never stoop that low when he was sober. Funny you tried to take advantage of him while he was drunk. Also mom, funny you are paying minors to try and fuck another minor. That sounds like that could be bad if that got out.” You said with a laugh. 

“I’ve contacted dad. I won’t be staying here with you anymore because he agrees you aren’t fit to take care of children.”  

You heard footsteps behind you and then felt hands on your waist. 

“Baby, let’s go.” 

You turned towards JJ and followed him out. 

“I’m sorry, I knew my mom had something to do with this once I heard Amelia’s name. She talked about it on the ferry, said you’d leave me for someone like her. Compared you to my dad, which isn’t a bad thing.” You sighed, rubbing your hands on his waist. 

He shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for, I ignored you for almost two weeks and almost cheated. That’s terrible to do.” 

“Listen, we’ll work on it, alright. I’m just glad you didn’t.” You said pulling him in for a kiss. “Now help me pack my room. I’m moving in with my dad.” You said with a smile. 

He nodded and followed you back in your house and to your room. 

[shslrose]

Promise - Mondo Owada x Reader

It’s been a few days since the killing school life began. So far, no has died, but you’re still nervous. You had promised Taka that you’d come to the morning meeting in the dining hall, so when the morning Monokuma announcement plays, you make your way there.

It wasn’t long before you were standing in front of the door to the dining hall, when you suddenly ran into none other than the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader himself, Mondo Owada. Honestly, you find him quite attractive, or, you would, if he wasn’t so scary. He is the leader of the most feared biker gang in all of Japan, after all.

You recall the first time you met him easily. You had entered Hope’s Peak Academy one morning, walked into the entrance hall, fainted, and then woke up in a classroom you’d never seen before. When you had made your way back to the main hall, a group of Ultimates was waiting there.

The group seemed to have broken out into unorganized confusion, but a boy with black hair and red eyes took charge immediately. 

“May I please have everyone’s attention?!” He called out, and everyone turned to look at him. He then introduced himself as Kiyotaka Ishimaru, the Ultimate Moral Compass. He went on to suggest we all introduce ourselves to each other so that we could understand our situation better.

Everyone seemed to agree to his idea, so you turned around and introduced yourself to the first person you saw: a tall boy with a strange haircut, wearing a long black coat and baggy pants. He looked like something of a delinquent, but you also found him rather attractive.

“Um, hi,” you said softly, slightly intimidated by his height and aggressive demeanor. “I’m Y/N… Y/N L/N, the Ultimate [talent].”

“The name’s Mondo Owada, nice to fuckin’ meetcha.”

You snapped back to reality, blushing slightly as you realized you had been staring at him for a few moments while you were lost in thought.

“Oh,” you said softly. “Good morning, Mondo.”

“Like hell it is!” he scoffed. “The day I beat the stuffing outta that goddamned bear, that’ll be a good fucking morning.”

“O-oh..I guess you’re right,” you said, a bit dejected. Before he could say anything else, you opened the door to the dining hall and walked inside. 

“...Damnit!” He exclaimed, letting out a frustrated sigh. He hadn’t meant to be so aggressive, he just couldn’t help it. His problem with aggression was only aggravated by the fact that he found you to be utterly beautiful, which made him nervous in your presence. 

A few minutes later, and all fifteen of you had gathered in the dining hall. It seemed like a normal morning, until Monokuma showed up.

“I’ve got a beary big surprise for you all!” exclaimed Monokuma. “Can you guess it? Can ya? Welllll, you don’t hafta, cause I’ll tell ya! It’s a special video for each of you showing you what’s going on outside the school!”

A...video...showing you...what’s going on...outside the school…?

“Outside the school?” Makoto asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Why dontcha just watch it, and find out?!” Monokuma retorted.

“Fine,” replied Kyoko, who sat in the back of the dining hall. “Then we can go to the A/V room and watch it right now.”

Monokuma disappeared, like usual, leaving the group confused. Curiosity and confusion dominated the conversation that broke out as everyone tried to make sense of Monokuma’s actions.

Eventually, everyone decided to go watch the videos, and so the group made their way to the A/V room. Makoto had gone ahead first, and when you arrived at the room with everyone else, there was a grave look on his pale face. Quickly, everyone grabbed their individual DVDs and rushed to a monitor.

When you watched yours, a video of your family appeared on the screen, wishing you good luck at Hope’s Peak Academy, but then the video suddenly changed to an image of your home that looked completely destroyed. If that weren’t bad enough, you saw blood splattered across the wall.

Blinking back tears, you stumbled away from the monitor. You began to hear outbursts from your classmates, but it was all muffled to you.

“This.. this can’t be real…!” “No.. no way…!” “What..is..this?!”

You couldn’t process it at all. The black and white bear, this killing school life… none of it made any sense. 

“N-no,” you mumbled quietly to yourself. There was a part of you that realised you were trembling, but you didn’t have the energy to try to stop it. “Why..why is this...happening…”

“Y/N?” Taka called out, noticing your distress. “Are you alright?”

You barely even heard him. Desperation and fear struck you, and you quickly ran from the room, tears clouding your vision.

Without a thought, you stumbled into an empty classroom. Your mind was completely blank as you tried to make sense of everything that was happening. You were scared for your family, and you were scared for yourself. What if someone tried to kill you because of the motive video they watched? Anxiety and fear built up inside you quickly...

You had no idea how much time had passed when suddenly the door opened, revealing none other than the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader himself.

“Ah, Y/N! You’ve been gone all day, everyone was worried…!” He exclaimed, smiling at the fact that he had found you, before his expression was quickly replaced with a look of concern. Your face had gone pale and your eyes were nearly vacant. 

Before you even knew what you were doing, you rushed forward and hugged him, pressing yourself firmly against his chest. 

“Oh! Y/N..?” You could hear the surprise in his voice, he hadn’t expected you to hug him, but he quickly wrapped his arms around you in return. He noted to himself that it was a man’s job to comfort a girl in distress, and he was determined to do just that. Even if he wasn’t exactly sure how.

“I’m..so scared…” you cried, feeling the weight of the situation upon you. “I don’t..wanna die..” “Hey, c’mon...it’s alright, you know? D-don’t cry…” He tried his best to comfort you, but he wasn’t sure exactly what to say. Still, his words and his presence managed to calm you enough, and allowed you to take in your situation.

“...!” The realization that you had just walked up to Mondo and hugged him unprompted hit you like a turn of bricks. Your face turned bright red with embarrassment as you pulled away. “I-I’m sorry…!”

You looked down at your hands, too embarrassed to make eye contact with him. Mondo turned away too, as a blush began to cover his face as well. 

“Tch, it’s no big deal,” he scoffed, trying to play it cool. “Besides, it’s not like I minded…”

You heard him mutter something under his breath, so you asked, “Huh?”

“I didn’t fuckin say anything…!” His blush deepened as he spoke.

“...”

“Anyways...you don’t gotta cry anymore, or feel scared, alright?” There was a confidence in his words, like he was certain in what he said.

“What do you mean…?”

“I’m gonna make you a promise, as a man!” There was a smile on his lips and a light in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“A promise...as a man?”

“Hell yeah! It’s the one thing my big bro always told me! He said that no matter what, a real man always keeps his promises. Always. So, I’m gonna make you a promise as a man: I’ll protect you, and we’ll escape this school together, no matter what,” Mondo promised earnestly. “Okay?”

“O-okay..”

“Good! You can trust me when I make that promise, so now you don’t gotta cry, or feel scared, see?” He was still smiling, and by the time he finished his sentence, you were too. You hugged him again, pressing your body against his once more.

“Thank you, Mondo, I really do feel better,” you told him honestly. With the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader on your side, you felt completely safe and reassured. 

Without warning, Monokuma appeared before the two of you. 

“Ah!” You exclaimed, breaking apart from the embrace. Mondo quickly stepped in front of you, protectively. 

“Monokuma...I’ll rip ya to shreds!” He roared, clearly irritated.

“Mondooooo!” Monokuma sang cheerfully. “It’s standing up!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Mondo shot back.

“Come onnn!” Monokuma replied in the same cheerful tone. “Do ya even hafta ask?!”

As he realised what Monokuma meant, Mondo blushed for the third time that day.

Monokuma didn’t wait for a reply, and continued on. “Your flagpole! It’s standing up!”

“Get the fuck outta here!” Mondo shouted, and unexpectedly, Monokuma listened and left the room.

“Standing up…? Flagpole…?” You muttered, confused, which only seemed to make Mondo blush harder. “What did he mean?”

“Tch, w-who the hell knows?! I-I mean, that bear’s fucking insane! A total psycho freak, ya know!”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you agreed, before taking a quick glance at the clock on the classroom wall. “It’s nearly nighttime…”

“Hey, how ‘bout I walk you back to your dorm?” Mondo suggested, having calmed down.

“Sure, I’d like that,” you replied.

And so, the two of you made your way through the halls of Hope’s Peak Academy together. Although you were still scared by the killing school life, Mondo had made a promise to you, and you found comfort in that promise.

------

Read Part Two here!

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a/n - requests are currently open, for dr1, dr2, and drv3! <3

[phantom-curve]

Second birthday is such a cool thing to call that! 8 or 35 if you are feeling so inclined.

Thank you! When I was a kid my mom always tried to call it my rebirth-day and I was like no❤️ I went with some Willex whump (with a fluffy end) for this one! Set in the gimme a chance AU, featuring pro-skateboarder Willie and anxious Alex. This is also a bit of a companion piece to the #8 prompt I wrote earlier!

#35: kissing their bruises and scars (Trigger Warning: mentions of injury, mild description of panic attack, and mentions of a car accident. Rated T for language) 

Alex generally tried not to think about worst case scenarios when Willie was competing. If he let himself, it was way too easy to imagine all types of situations that ended with Willie broken and bleeding at the base of a halfpipe while Alex stood helplessly on the sidelines. It didn’t help anything for him to obsess over what could happen, especially because at this point, Alex knew skateboarding was as much a part of Willie as drumming was a part of him.

It was just that ever since Willie had gotten his first sponsorship and moved to the pro circuit six months ago, he had started taking bigger risks. More complex tricks and a lot less hesitation to go big when he was representing the brands that were paying his bills. And that meant longer hours practicing and a higher chance of injury on a daily basis. Alex wanted to be a supportive boyfriend, the kind that would show up at the skate park to cheer and not have a panic attack every time that Willie wiped out, but he wasn’t. He was just an anxious guy in love with a dude who seemed determined to break every single bone in his body.

Things only got worse when Willie started traveling for competitions. He was gone almost every weekend, and Luke had finally convinced the manager at the bar he worked at to let Sunset Curve preform regular Saturday shows, and so, more often than not, Willie would be somewhere else in California flinging his body down an insanely tall ramp with nothing but a helmet and some pads to protect him while Alex was trapped in LA losing himself in the familiar pattern of sticks against drums in an attempt to control his raging anxiety. It had about a 68% success rate. That success rate increased dramatically when Willie called Alex the second he knew his set was ending. It plummeted on the nights Alex didn’t hear from him until much later, or worse, heard from a different skater entirely.

Tonight was unfortunately one of those nights.

When their set ended, Reggie called out the same line he had coined after their first performance, a couple audience members chiming in with him because they actually had a bit of a fan following now, and Alex wasted no time in grabbing his phone from the fanny pack he kept behind his kit during shows. Instead of it lighting up with a picture of his boyfriend’s face, he was met with a series of missed calls and text messages from the guys Willie was rooming with for the weekend. He tried not to panic, tried to breathe in deeply to a count of five, holding it for just as long before exhaling again. It kept the anxiety at bay for as long as it took for him to unlock the phone and read the last missed message.

Don’t worry, bro. They’re gonna airlift him back to LA so you can just meet him at the hospital whenever.

Panic hit full force. What the actual fuck had happened to his boyfriend?! Alex’s fingers were shaking too much for him to open the other messages, his vision going blurry and a distant ringing sounding out in his ears. It took him longer than it should to realize Luke was crouched down in front of him, Reggie hovering just beyond the drum kit.

“You have to breathe, Lex. C’mon, follow me.”

Luke inhaled deeply before letting his breath out in a loud woosh. Alex tried to copy him, but his chest felt too tight, his throat closing in the more he tried to open it. Luke kept talking, his voice low and calm.

“Try again, we can do it together. We just have to breathe, nothing else.”

Alex inhaled with Luke that time, not quite as deeply and not quite as steady, but more air than he had managed to get before. It took several long moments before he was able to match Luke completely, the fog starting to clear from his brain, surroundings snapping back into focus.

“Great, good, just keep breathing, okay? I’m gonna go grab the office keys and we’ll take a minute in there to talk, okay?”

Alex nodded, not exactly wanting Luke to leave but knowing whatever his best friend was saying logically made sense. Reggie slipped into the space Luke had been occupying, breathing in the exact same pattern, and Alex refocused on him. When Reggie stood, Alex copied him, reaching out to grip the back of Reggie’s red flannel as he led them both off of the stage and down the hallway to the office in the back of the bar. Alex dropped onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.

“Lex? Can you tell us what’s going on?”

Reggie’s voice was soft and quiet, like a gentle melody. Alex let it wash over him, knew his boys would be able to help if he could just figure out how to get his mouth to form the words it desperately didn’t want to say out loud. He fought to speak for a few moments before finally just thrusting his phone forward. A hush fell over the room as Luke and Reggie scrolled through the texts and Alex was suddenly grateful that he wouldn’t have to read through them himself. After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, Luke cleared his throat and spoke.

“Okay, so good news or bad news first?”

“How can there possibly be good news?”

Alex’s throat felt raw and scratchy, the words coming out broken and strangled. Luke and Reggie exchanged a quick glance before Reggie sat next to Alex on the couch. Not touching, but close enough for Alex to feel comforted all the same.

“Willie isn’t dead or dying, so yes, there is good news. Which one do you want first?”

A significant amount of the panic left Alex’s system at the reassurance that his boyfriend was alive and going to stay that way for the time being. It hit him all at once, sending him into Reggie’s side as he let out a cry of relief. Reggie’s hand stroked up and down Alex’s arm, a low hum sounding in the back of his throat. Luke spoke again.

“Okay, so good news is that Willie is probably already back in LA, he’s at the best hospital he can be at, and he’s going to be fine.”

Alex clung to the words like a life raft. Willie was going to be fine. He turned it into a mantra, repeating it over and over again until he felt like he was back in control, no longer on the precipice of drowning. He disentangled himself from Reggie’s arms, took a deep breath, and met Luke’s gaze.

“I’m ready. Gimme the bad news.”

Luke let out a long breath before sitting down on Alex’s other side.

“The guys were in a car accident. They didn’t even make it to the competition. Willie was in the passenger seat and he took the worst hit in the collision. The other guys got taken to a local hospital, but they had to send Willie to Cedars-Sinai because of some special orthopedic department there. Max said they mentioned he would be admitted to the post-trauma floor.”

A car accident. He didn’t even make it to the competition. Alex had considered himself prepared for the worst when it came to Willie and his chosen profession. He had told himself that loving Willie meant accepting the risk that came with skateboarding, especially at the level that Willie did it. He had not once considered the fact that Willie could be hurt in some type of freak accident that had nothing to do with skating. The life raft slipped from his mental fingers, hurtling him back into the sea of despair once again.

“We got this, okay?” Luke was still speaking. “Reg is gonna call an Uber and take you to the hospital, and I’m gonna get Dante and Felix to help pack up stuff here and then come meet you. It’s gonna be okay.”

Luke’s words painted a path for Alex to follow, a way to move forward without having to fight so hard to do so. He nodded, allowed himself to be bundled out of the employee entrance and into the car Reggie had called. Clung to Reggie’s flannel again as they traversed the white hallways of the hospital, eventually making their way to a nurse’s station situated on the post-trauma surgical floor. Alex didn’t even let himself think about what that string of words implied. Not until Reggie nudged him forward to speak with the blonde-haired woman with kind brown eyes sitting behind the welcome desk. He forced himself to clear the lump in his throat and scrape some words together.

“Hi, I’m uh, my name is Alex. Alex Mercer? I’m looking for my boyfriend Willie? William, actually, his name is William Stewart. He was...he was in a car crash.”

The words came out in starts and stops, cracking at the edges as Alex forced them through numb lips. The nurse nodded, her fingers tapping across the keyboard in a sharp staccato.

“He’s out of surgery, but might still be a bit groggy. The limit is one visitor at a time, so your friend will have to wait out here.”

Alex turned to Reggie with a blank stare.

“You got this, Lex. Remember, he’s gonna be fine. I’ll be right here, and Luke is on his way too. Whatever you need, okay? We got you.”

Alex nodded even though the movement itself felt like a lie. The nurse smiled softly at him and for one split moment Alex wished he could call his mom, hear her comforting voice the way he used to when he was a scared little kid. But he had Luke and Reggie now. And Willie, who was alive somewhere in this hospital.

“He’s in room 604, just down the hall.”

Alex forced his feet to move. Forced himself to count the numbers on the wall until he found 604. Forced himself to open the door and enter the room.

Willie looked so small on the bed, his dark hair a mess across the stark white pillowcase, his leg encased in plaster and suspended from some contraption that hung down from the ceiling. He turned his head at the noise of the door opening, eyes half open and soft with sleep or maybe painkillers. The smile on his face was a mere shadow of its normal sunshine.

“Hey, Hotdog.”

Alex wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and curl into a ball and absolutely lose it. But instead, he walked to the side of Willie’s bed and sat down in the chair next to it that seemed to have been waiting just for him.

“Have you been crying? Please tell me you weren’t crying.”

Okay, Willie was definitely on drugs. Because of course, Alex had been crying.

“Yes, I’ve been crying! Are you kidding me?”

Willie winced slightly and Alex was instantly swamped with guilt.

“No, okay, let me try that again.”

He took a deep breath and reached up to brush a few stray hairs away from Willie’s face. There were a number of cuts and bruises marring his skin, a few of them hidden under bandages.

“Hey pretty boy, I’m so glad you’re not dead. I’ve never been more scared than when I saw that text from Max. I thought you cracked your head open on a halfpipe or something, what the hell happened?”

Willie tried to shrug and grimaced, like it hurt. Alex’s hands fluttered uselessly above his boyfriend’s body, unsure where would be safe to touch. He settled for grabbing the hand that Willie offered which was thankfully unmarked, nothing but some leftover scars from catching himself at the skatepark.

“I think our car flipped? There was a lot of crashing and my leg really fuckin hurt. It’s still hurts.”

Willie frowned, clearly addled from the leftover anesthesia and whatever they were giving him for the pain. Alex pulled his hand up to press a series of kisses across Willie’s knuckles, making sure to cover each scar at least once.

“You can’t die on me, Wills. I fucking love you, okay? I know you do insane stunts and regularly let yourself get beat to crap at the skate park, but you can’t fucking die on me in some stupid car accident. I’d lose my goddamn mind without you.”

“You love me?”

Willie’s voice was soft and awed and Alex suddenly realized he hadn’t ever actually said those words out loud before even though they’d been living in his brain for months now. When he looked into Willie’s eyes he saw a hint of wetness there, and his heart melted.

“Yes, I love you, you fucking dork. I’ve been in love with you for months.”

Willie grinned, dopey eyed and pink cheeked.

“Well, I’ve been in love with you for like, ever. So, I win. Gimme a kiss for my prize.”

Alex laughed and rolled his eyes, but obliged, nonetheless. Willie might not remember this interaction, but Alex would never forget it. A look of absolute peace settled onto his boyfriend’s face.

“I knew you’d come. I knew as soon as that car hit us that when I woke up, you’d be here. You’re the best boyfriend ever, that’s why I love you. And you’re so hot. Like, really hot.”

Alex’s cheeks burned, his heart kicking into overdrive.

“C’mere,” Willie nodded his head to the side and tried to shuffle over, like he was inviting Alex to climb in next to him. He made a disgruntled sound when the contraption his leg was in refused to budge, frowning up at the suspension system.

“That’s so lame, what the fuck? I wanna cuddle.”

And Alex, unable to resist even when he knew it would probably be better for Willie if he did, climbed up to wedge his body into the small space between Willie and the guardrails on his bed. He tucked one arm behind Willie’s head, pulling his face into the space between his neck and shoulder. Willie let out a contented sigh, his breath sending shivers down Alex’s spine.

“You smell like you,” Willie whispered, the sound happy and relaxed. “I love you, Lex.”

“I love you, too.” Alex sighed, kissing his way across every single cut and bruise he could reach without moving.

Willie settled into place, his body going lax and soft snores sounding out against Alex’s chest within moments. Alex let his own head fall to rest against the top of Willie’s, finally allowing himself to believe everything would be okay. When the same nurse came to tell him that his other friend had arrived and maybe it would be best to come back in the morning, he accepted it without complaint. She gave him a final moment to say goodnight, Alex taking the time to make sure Willie was tucked in tight before kissing his temple softly.

Willie was going to be okay, and Alex was going to spend the rest of his life making sure he was always the one there to kiss his scrapes and bruises.

Send me prompts for my second birthday!

[angst-fairygodmother]

37 and 66 from I love you things with Ollie and Jess?

A/N: Hi Nonny! Thank you so much for this prompt. I’m so sorry it took me a while to write, but I hope it was worth the wait. I went back and forth while writing this between making it a reader-insert and using Jess as an actual OC and finally settled on the latter, because it just felt right. (Which is probably how I will continue to write this pair going forward also.) Word Count: 3493 Rating: G - mostly fluff - heights (and fear of influencing how it’s written), a little swearing, referenced/implied panic attack

Jess closed the shop at 6pm on the dot, giving herself an hour to get ready for...whatever Ollie had planned. There weren’t a lot of places to go out to dinner in the area, and she desperately hoped he wouldn’t start out by inviting her home to meet the infamous Charlie Sway. She chewed nervously on her nail, staring at her closet. She knew she needed something that would work for anything, but her mind continued to run in circles trying to decide exactly what that meant. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d given this much thought to what she looked like on someone else’s account. It felt strange to say the least. But, she mused, not a bad kind of strange. Eventually, she settled on a cute cream-colored sweater and jeans, hoping that the evening temperature dropped enough to make them reasonable.

There was a soft knock on the door and she frantically cast one last look over herself in the mirror, smoothing down her shirt and hair, stomach twisting nervously. 

She threw open the door perhaps a bit overenthusiastically, a warm expression on her face. 

“Hi,” she greeted him, the single syllable all she could get out as she met those soft blue eyes. 

Ollie grinned when he saw her, the excited, adoring expression making her heart flutter. It was hard for Jess not to scoff at the cliché, when she was behaving like the protagonists of the romances she sold by the dozen. But at least he was looking at her the same way, and seemed at least momentarily speechless. 

“Uh, do you want to come in?” she offered meekly after a moment, gesturing over her shoulder. “Or I can come out, and we can...I mean...um...”

The two of them stood there, staring at each other dumbly for a moment, on either side of the doorway. 

“So...where are we going?” she asked after a long pause ripe with awkward tension. She wanted to kick herself. Ollie had been so easy to talk to from the moment he walked into her store, but now, suddenly they were going on a proper date and everything felt different?

“I have a picnic bag in the back of my car, and I thought we could drive somewhere, and then maybe hike a bit?”

“A hike?” she asked nervously. “Like, up into the mountains?”

“Yeah. There’s a point up there that has great views of the entire town and the lake. Nik heard about it from one of the girls at the bar we were flirting with…I mean he was flirting with mostly. It wasn’t...I mean I didn’t...and this was before I met you…”

“Ollie,” she laughed lightly, tilting her head to one side to look at him. “I’m not the blushing, swooning virginal maiden, and I don’t expect you to be either.” 

He coughed, face turning crimson and she couldn’t help smiling fondly. Finally, things were feeling a little more normal, this was still the same Ollie she had come to adore. 

“You’re also only here for the summer, or however long it takes you to find your Dad’s record. So I hadn’t set my hopes on serious, or exclusive. I just think you’re cute, and fun to be around, so why not enjoy something and see what happens with it?”

“Oh.” His face twisted as he considered her words.

“However, I don’t think a hike is a good idea. It’s going to be dark soon.”

“There’s still almost two hours before sunset, and I brought flashlights so we can get back down the mountain.”

Of course, he had planned ahead. It would be stupid to plan a hiking date and not account for that, and he was far from stupid. And they were both dressed fine for the occasion. Her mind quested desperately for some other reason that they shouldn’t go and came up blank. So instead she held up a finger for him to wait, and went back to collect her camera. If she were going to do this, she might as well get some good photographs out of it, she rationed. Maybe even one she could sell prints of, if she was incredibly lucky. (She already felt insanely so, when such a wonderful boy wanted to go out with her, so why not see how far that streak ran?)

~

The first part of the hike went surprisingly smoothly, and it didn’t take long before Jess and Ollie were joking and laughing, scrabbling over rocks like young goats, playing eye-spy with the woods, any weirdness melting away in the evening sun. She barely noticed the way their path climbed, and felt completely relaxed.

Gradually, without her noticing, the trail narrowed and became steeper, until it rounded a tight bend up ahead, nothing but air off to her left and solid rock to the right. She swallowed nervously, trying to keep her eyes from the empty space. All of her joviality dropped away like the ground. 

“Jess?” Ollie asked, noticing her discomfort as she edged very slowly along. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Yeah. Fine. I just...don’t like heights.” She answered, breath and words coming in short bursts. 

“Oh. Shit. Um, we can turn back if you want? I didn't realize you--”

“No. No, it's fine. We're here now. I'll make it through. You just might have to hold my hand for the way back down.”

She’d meant it as a joke, a light flirtation to distract her from the many, many feet she could fall with one misstep. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be doing any good, as her mind found a way to focus on both the space and how cheesy the sentence was.

“Do...you want me to now?” he countered, holding one slim hand out. 

She flashed him a small smile, taking it with her own and trying not to think too much about how nice, how right it felt. “You’ve been taking lessons with Nikolai haven’t you?”

“What?”

“That was smooth, Oliver,” she teased, enjoying the way he turned red all the way to the tips of his ears. 

~

Eventually, the young couple made it to the overlook, with much gentle guidance from Ollie to keep Jess’s nerves from overwhelming her, and she gasped. The lake stretched out below them, still and silver in the evening light, shining like a mirror. Tiny specks of color, moving too fast or too far for the eye to really track marked the boaters and jetskis, and kites flown from the small public beach. Most of the buildings disappeared into the verdant green surroundings, and the ones she could still spot looked like houses and shops and mansions for Polly Pockets, not people. The sun was just starting to dip behind the mountains on the far side of the lake, hazy outlines of shadow against the sherbert sky. 

“Oh, Ollie,” she breathed, stunned. “It’s beautiful.”

He mumbled something she didn’t catch and started unpacking the picnic he’d brought in his backpack. Not wanting to disturb him, and clearly left to her own devices for the moment, she took out her camera, adjusting the lens carefully, capturing as much of the view as she could. Then, on an impulse she turned around and snapped one of Ollie, silhouetted against the forest and the peeks of sunset between the trees, before he could notice. The sound of the shutter, or the finishing touches being put on dinner, made him look up.

“What are you doing, Jess?” he asked, confusion written across his features. 

“Taking pictures of beautiful things,” she answered with a shrug, bringing the camera to her eye again.

“No,” he held up his hand to block it, laughing. 

“I’m serious. This place, up here away from it all, suits you.”

“You’re full of shit, Jess.” He shook his head, his hair falling across his face.

She took another photo while his guard was down. 

“Come sit down. Marlena put together a good meal.” 

Relenting after another photo out into the distance, almost wishing she dared to get closer to the edge of the overlook, she carefully disassembled her camera, storing each piece with reverence back in its bag, before sitting across from him. He had set up quite the array on the blanket: simple but delicious looking toasted sandwiches, glasses and lemonade, berries and chunks of watermelon, and what looked like very freshly baked chocolate-chip cookies.

“Ollie, it looks amazing,” she said with a smile, popping a sweet, juicy blackberry into her mouth with a small, exaggerated moan. “And tastes even better.”

He blushed, shrugging and laughing sheepishly. “All I did was carry it up here.”

She rolled her eyes as he deflected yet another compliment. He seemed to always be doing that, much to her frustration, and she made a mental note to find a way to make him see how much she meant them, how true each one was. 

Silence fell over the two of them as they started picking at the buffet between them, but it was an easy one, a pause rather than an interruption, and eventually conversation resumed. She asked him about his search for his father’s record and listened as he spoke of the things he had found, which weren’t what he was looking for but seemed to bring (mostly) happy memories of his childhood. He asked for stories of her family, and of what the town was like when summer-people left. 

“Sway Lake is a different place,” she concluded eventually, casting her eyes about her on the clifftop, “just like it is from up here. Or frozen in a moment in your record.” 

By now the remains of the food had been set aside, and the pair had scooted closer on the picnic blanket, sitting side by side and facing out, instead of across from one another. Hesitantly, Jess shifted her hand closer so that their pinkies brushed, daring him to take action and hold her hand again. He didn’t seem to notice as he turned to face her, eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

“I…” he cleared his throat and started over. “You have a really unique view of the world.” 

Something in the way he said it made it feel like the kindest compliment someone could give, and it was finally her turn to blush, ducking her head to hide as her cheeks heated furiously. 

“I mean I guess,” she fiddled with the edge of the picnic blanket beside her, plucking at a loose thread so she didn’t have to meet his eyes just yet. “I’ve never really thought about it like that...”

“The view up here must be great for photos,” he said, making her laugh at his abrupt change of subject, obviously picking up on her embarrassment and knowing it well. 

“Yeah, it is. I’m hoping they come out well. Thank you for showing it to me.”

“The way people were talking, it’s pretty well known...how come you haven’t been up here before?”

“Heights, remember?” she flashed him a half-smile as she tilted her head to one side. “I’ve never had someone invite me before who seemed worth the risk.”

“How do you know if something’s worth it without ever seeing it?”

“You know your record is without hearing it don’t you? Besides, I said someone, not something.”

He froze, blinking owlishly at her. 

“Ollie?” she asked after a long pause, wondering what was going on with him suddenly.

“Can I kiss you?” he blurted, and now it was her turn to freeze, the question momentarily incomprehensible. 

“Yes,” she breathed, barely getting the word out before his lips were pressed against hers. 

The contact was abrupt, almost a headbutt but more romantic. There was a moment of awkward fumbling, of bumping noses and clashing teeth, until their mouths finally slotted together properly. Even after finding the right way to connect, there was a split second of hesitation, and then his hands came up to frame her jaw, pulling her closer, the tips of his fingers teasing at her hairline and the small hairs that had escaped the scrunchie holding most of it back. Keeping one of her own hands on the blanket to hold herself steady, Jess wrapped the other around the back of his neck like an anchor and leaned into the pressure of his soft lips on hers. 

All too soon he pulled away, panting breathlessly, and staring at her with an awe that made her own breath catch in her throat. She was half tempted to pull him back into another kiss, if only to make him stop looking at her like that. 

A distant roll of thunder shattered the moment, and her eyes flickered toward the clouds gathering on the blue-purple horizon. 

“We should probably head back, before that gets here,” she said reluctantly, wishing she had more time.

Ollie nodded in agreement, and the two of them made quick work of packing back up the remains of the picnic. He handed her a heavy black flashlight (that, she noted gratefully, and then laughed internally at her own thought, would double as a decent weapon against a rogue mountain lion at least long enough to run) and set off down the mountain. She tried to follow him without looking down, but the uneven terrain in the growing darkness made that too difficult to maintain. Soon the very idea filled her with just as much fear as looking. The edge of the path seemed to drop sharply, drawing ever closer to her feet in the narrow beam of yellow light, until it felt like she was walking along the very line of the drop. 

She stopped short with a yelp, head spinning from the sensation and whole body trembling. The sound made Ollie turn around sharply, placing himself as a barrier between her and the fall as she pressed her back firmly against the rock. 

He took her by the shoulders, trying to get her to make eye contact instead of staring blankly at the sight, or lack of sight beyond him. 

“Jess? Can you hear me?” he asked. “It’s alright, Jess. I’m right here, I won’t let you fall.”

Her blood roared in her ears and she saw his lips move but it was too loud for her to hear him.

When talking didn’t seem to work, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into a tight hug. Her fingers curled into his sweatshirt, clinging to him like a lifeline. Face pressed into the side of his neck she let out a sob, as the world spun around her much too fast.

~

The rest of the journey down to Ollie’s station wagon and much of the drive were a blur. Jess wasn’t completely unconvinced that he had somehow found a way to carry her down, although that was giving his physical strength more credit than he looked like it deserved. The storm picked up as they drove, clouds turning the sky to black, lit only by the occasional crash of lightning, and rain slamming against the roof and windows.

All too soon, the car stopped, parking in the narrow street in front of her building. They exited the car and promptly Ollie took her by the hand, lacing their fingers together. Not wanting to stand in the rain, she used the point of contact to drag him along, running as if she could dodge the water falling from the sky until they made it to her door. They stood there under the eaves, hair and clothing dripping, facing each other reluctantly, not wanting to say goodnight just yet.

“Tonight was…” he said, pausing. 

“Amazing?” she finished, smiling and feeling the light heat of a blush on her cheeks.

“Yeah. That.” He smiled back, and looked for a moment (during which her heart beat like a bird trying to escape her chest) like he was going to kiss her again. “I should let you go inside…”

“Stay over,” she blurted out before she could consider the words. 

“W-what?” he stared at her like she’d just grown an extra head or twelve. “Jess I can’t do that…”

“It’s late. And the weather’s bad. And I saw you yawning while we were driving back. I’d worry about you if you tried to go home now.”

“It’s just around the other side of the lake…”

“Yeah, but that’s like half an hour unless you drive recklessly. All it takes is drifting off for a second...please stay?”

“But...what will people think?”

“People,” she raised an eyebrow, “or your grandmother?”

“I don’t just mean her. I don’t want you to be treated like--”

“A slut?” 

He shuffled and looked away. 

“People aren’t that bad, you know. There are a handful of dicks, but most of town doesn’t give a shit.” 

“I didn’t mean…” he frowned. “I’m a Sway. I know people don’t like my family. If you’re seen with me like that...I know what being an outcast feels like, and I don’t want you to have to feel that way.”

“Well I guess you'll just have to make sure no one sees, then.” She smirked, before she sighed. “Look, Ollie. We're grown adults. What we do at night, or any other time, or with whom is no one's business but our own.”

“I know but--”

“No. No buts. I wouldn't have invited you to sleep over if I didn't mean it, or I wasn't prepared for gossip and fallout. It’s up to you. I just would feel a lot better if you did.”

“You really want me to stay?”

She rolled her eyes and fixed him with a look rather than actually answering. The wet breeze sent a shiver over her as she turned to unlock the door, not waiting anymore for him to make a decision. 

“And it’s not...too fast?”

She shrugged, taking him by the arm to pull him into the house and into a kiss. Her other hand threaded into his hair and his hovered over her hips as if he wasn’t quite sure he was allowed to touch her .

“Too fast is a myth,” she murmured, breath ghosting across his face. “Besides, I was inviting you into my house, not my bed.” 

She’d lost count by now of the number of times she’d managed to make Ollie blush tonight, but each time you did was just as adorable as the first. 

“Although, I was going to offer to take the couch,” she said over your shoulder as she led the way toward the furniture in question, “so I guess it was...also...into my bed…this is...I’m making it weird.”

“What? No!” he fumbled to reassure her. “I mean, no. You’re not, not no I won’t sleep in...I don’t want to, without you. Not that we have to sleep together. It’s just. It’s your bed.”

“God we’re a pair,” she said, laughing now as she dropped down and motioned for him to sit beside her. “Tripping over ourselves like romantic baby deer.”

“I just don’t want to mess this up,” he admitted sheepishly, sitting awkwardly perched on the edge of the cushion as if he was going to run at any moment. 

“Is there...something to mess up?” she asked, reaching over to take his hand and lacing her fingers through his. 

“I think so,” the words may have been a statement but his face was a question as he turned toward her a little more. “I don't want this to be some summer fling, Jess. I want it to be real.”

“Hey, summer flings can also be real. There was this one guy who…” she paused at Ollie's expression and shook her head, “never mind. The point is they're not mutually exclusive. But I appreciate the sentiment. And I’d really like that too.”

“What does that mean though?” he asked. 

She paused. “That’s what we have to decide. But...not tonight. It’s late. We should go to bed and talk about it when we’re rested.” She fought back a yawn that emphasized her point as she stood. 

He nodded, watching her turn and cross the room, eyes lingering low. It took him a moment to realize when she had stopped moving again. 

“Well aren't you coming?” 

“What?” he squeaked out. 

“It occurs to me, the bed is big enough for two and way more comfortable than the couch.”

“I…”

“I just mean to sleep, for real. And, I guess, maybe cuddling?” She bit her lip nervously. “Unless you're not good with that…”

He stared for another long, awkward moment. “Even with my nightmares?”

She shrugged. “Yeah. I’ll deal. Or maybe having someone else beside you will help.” 

Ollie scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over himself in his rush to join her by the doorway. She laughed, lacing her fingers with his and leading him further through the apartment, silently marveling at how well things had gone, for a first date.

[cherrywrites626]

Fighting Chapter 28 Sneak Peek

Weekends were once again shaping up to be his favorite part of life at Hogwarts.

Things had been going astronomically better with Keith and their newly reformed schedule ever since that first week of second term—especially once they’d agreed to move tutoring sessions from the library down to the pitch.

Not that he didn’t enjoy perusing his textbooks and jotting down notes in near-complete silence for an hour or more every Tuesday evening when he could’ve been doing literally anything including sitting in his bedroom staring at a blank wall, but—okay, yeah, he kind of hated it.  More than he ever would being encouraged to watch Hufflepuff practices whilst simultaneously hanging out with two of his favorite people on the face of the planet.  

As if there was ever going to be a competition between Quidditch and studying.

So, yeah, weekdays were already pretty good to him—but weekends still held a type of freedom he hadn’t known for months at that point, and the multitudinous possibilities of having each and every whim met with a shrug and benign acquiescence on his roommate’s part was a kind of like a drug he couldn’t deny addiction to.

To say he took full advantage was perhaps a bit of an understatement.

It wasn’t that he suddenly started dragging the poor Slytherin from one end of the castle to the next on a never-ending mission to visit all of his favorite stomping grounds back-to-back, although he had wondered a time or two if he couldn’t get away with doing just that.  

Something told him the amicable acceptance would no doubt vanish if he had, so while he didn’t push his roommate to the brink of insanity with requests to venture outside of their dorm for a bit of ‘light’ exercise from sunup to sundown, he did attempt to pick a new destination to visit for at least an hour once per day.  If only for the change in scenery.  

There were exceptions he made, of course—lines he’d decided not to cross in the name of fairness.  Never in his wildest dreams did he think Keith would step foot back inside Gryffindor Commons without some sort of bribe to sweeten the deal, so the majority of their little trips were to places secluded enough they wouldn’t run into anyone from either of their respective houses.  Which left fewer options than he would have liked, but not so few he’d already run out of ideas.

Lance breezed down the hall with nimble-footed excitement, taking special care not to go so fast as to leave the other in his dust.  

Their newest agreed-upon adventure took them on a quick stroll out to Black Lake to watch the grey waters lap against the rocky shoreline—and while that might have been a mundane experience back when he still had the world at his fingertips, it was just enough ‘different’ from their typical day-to-day routine that he was practically dancing along with every step.

January had given way to the light chill of early February, the sun peeking through thick cloud cover long enough that many afternoons were fairly pleasant if there wasn’t a torrential downpour to obscure visibility.  Most of the foliage was still a mishmash of green and yellow splatterings amidst seas of brown muck, and the snow-capped peaks in the distance rarely melted in their entirety, but midwinter in the Highlands was still beautiful in its own right.  The crisp air and icy bite of wind a welcomed reprieve from the overall stuffiness inside the castle.

Rounding one corner and then the next, the large set of arched oak doors leading to the main courtyard came into view, the promise of freedom for a good little while right within grasp.

“Oh, hey, Lance.  I was just on my way to come find you.”

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

Check out the latest update here, and keep an eye out for this one posting sometime in May.

[chilling-seavey]

Qui Totum Vult Totum Perdit (d.s.) - 5

A/N Now the long chapters are really starting

Warnings: This story is centered around a murder so there will be graphic descriptions of blood, death/manslaughter, dealing with corpses, possible domestic abuse (physical/verbal), crime/covering up a crime, shock/grief, and other possibly heavy or triggering topics. Please read at your own discretion.

Avalon’s purse was left on the kitchen island right by the door. It was on its side as if it had been thrown there in some sort of haste when she came inside. I picked it up and ruffled through the small bag; pushing aside the tube of lipstick, small medicine bottle, few feminine hygiene products, and her wallet before accessing her phone.

Her lockscreen was a photo of me, taken on our honeymoon some time by the resort pool. If I didn’t feel the breath of shame and guilt on my neck, that certainly sealed it in. I typed in her passcode but was met with ‘incorrect pin’. I tried again, only to receive the same message. Since when did she change her passcode and not tell me?

We must ignore the fact that I changed mine a few weeks back without telling her as well.

The last thing I wanted to have to do was facial recognition, but it seemed that was my only option.

So I found myself back in the studio, patting softly over the blood soaked rug to the body of my wife to stick her iPhone in her face. Jonah watched from the doorway as I crouched down carefully on the balls of my feet and held the screen towards Avalon’s blank expression. The phone unlocked and the home screen appeared. I didn’t look at her for too long – honestly I couldn’t without risking being sent to empty my stomach again – and I simply took her phone over to the studio couch and sat down on the arm. Jonah stood beside me to watch over my shoulder as I opened up her contacts app and scrolled down to J.

You can imagine my surprise when the very first contact under that letter was simply the letter itself. It was too easy. I brought up any messages she had with that person and scrolled to the top of the reasonably short text thread. They had messaged her first,

Hey. Thanks for reaching out. I’ll have the stuff together for the end of the week as promised.

Great! Looking forward to it.

When’s your fiancé out next? I can drop by your place if you want.

He usually works late every day so whenever is good. Lunch tomorrow maybe?

Yeah, sounds good. See you then :)

There was only one other date that they had messaged – at least by text – and it was also a short yet cryptic conversation.

If you’re ready today I can come by. Daniel’s held up in meetings so I’m alone.

Yeah that’s fine. I’m at the Lincoln Motel in Pasadena. Room 19. Come by whenever.

1559 Lincoln Ave

Okay! I’ll head over now. I’m excited! :)

The green monster was never a kind friend, dear reader, and I couldn’t help but feel near sick again with the question as to if my wife had been cheating on me. Sure, I was no perfect man and I seemed to put a lot of my efforts into my work – maybe more than I should have – but never would I have dreamt about being unfaithful to her. Seemed as though she had thought differently. I locked Avalon’s phone and slid it in my pocket as I stood up, trying to act like it was something that just rolled off my back.

“What the fuck.” Jonah breathed.

I pushed a hand through my hair and rubbed the back of my neck tensely, ignoring his rhetorical question.

“You okay?” Jonah asked, setting his hand on my shoulder.

“Fine.” I nodded stiffly.

“Do you want to stop by the motel?”

I contemplated his offer for a moment. It was on the way out of state anyway and it would have been nice to get some answers. Maybe it would even help me figure out what happened to Avalon. This mysterious J person wasn’t necessarily in my good books at the moment.

“Yeah. We should.” I finally answered.

The first step before we could leave was to clean up the brutal scene that I had found myself amidst just in case anyone was to come past while we were gone. Our safest bet was to keep Avalon with us until we figured out what had happened; this was imperative especially if it came to the possible outcome where I had killed her. I grabbed an extra towel from under the sink in the studio and Jonah and I stood beside the body.

“Jesus Christ.” Jonah breathed as we stared at her.

I held the towel out to him, “You tuck this under her. I’ll lift her up.”

He nodded silently and watched as I stepped over my wife who was still laying out over the ruined rug. With one foot on either side of her, I bent down and slid my hands under her armpits and just around her back. She was terribly cold and I could feel it through the shirt she was still wearing. Ironic choice of words, but it was chilling.

Jonah slid the towel underneath her and the strain of me holding her limp body up caused more blood to trickle out of the gash across her neck and I looked away to keep from seeing any more. Waking up in it was enough. We moved down her body and I held up her hips so Jonah could tug the towel completely underneath her.

“Let’s move her to the hardwood.” I instructed flatly and we each took two corners of the towel to hoist her up off the blood-soaked rug.

Jonah and I shuffled across the studio and gently set her down on the hardwood in front of the front door to keep her off the rug. The knife still rested on the carpet, glinting teasingly in the late morning sun and I finally worked up the nerve to bend down and pick it up.

“I’ll leave you alone when you get it through your head what a psychotic bitch you’re being!”

“I’m psychotic?” she shrieked, whipping around to face me once we both entered the studio and I flicked on the light. The large collection of wedding gifts was piled neatly along the kitchenette counter and on the couch, the rest of the small single room building taken up by all of my music equipment. Avalon got right up in my face, pointing her finger at me behind furious brown eyes, and screaming until the minimal soundproofing almost muffled the edges of her voice, “Look at yourself! Screaming at me for simply missing my husband on our honeymoon! You’re so fucking psychotic it’s nearly goddamn comedic!”

“I’m not going to keep having this same argument with you, Avalon! I’m getting so sick of needing to defend myself against you time and time again! You just don’t respect me or my job!”

“Who even are you?” she scoffed humourlessly, “It’s nothing about respect, it’s about you being a decent human being – a decent husband – and actually showing me that you care about me!”

“Avalon, I swear to God if you don’t-”

“If I don’t what? Shut up? Be a good little wife and shut up and look pretty for you? Big important business tycoon Daniel Seavey is going to…do what exactly?”

With the knife in my hand, my eyes drifted to the stack of wedding gifts on the studio couch, the thin polished wooden box on the top capturing my attention. The lid was left open, revealing the velvet trimmed interior and the rest of the silver knives resting in a row inside. It was a wedding gift from my brother, the high-end knife set purchased and engraved with our surname on each dark wooden handle until they looked no less than ridiculously expensive and classy. The one empty slot in the velvet box had its assigned subject resting in my hand, the largest knife from the box weighing down in my fingers.

How strange and ironic it is; Avalon killed by a knife wielding her own surname. The surname only given to her a mere three weeks earlier. I had no time to stew on that, however, as I was sure that the fact she wasn’t at work that morning (and that neither was I) would start to raise suspicions. We had to get out of there before someone came looking for us.

I took the knife to the sink in the kitchenette along the far wall of the studio and turned on the hot water to rinse the blood off the blade. I found myself trembling slightly as I scrubbed, my hands struggling to keep still even under the warmth of the water. The red stained the water and flooded around the base of the stainless-steel sink as the drain pulled it down and soon my hands and the knife were left clean and spotless.

Jonah had the rug rolled up from the floor by the time I finished cleaning the knife and I thanked him quietly as I set the chef’s knife back in its slot in the wooden box. The handles stared back at me, twelve identical silver engravings of my surname staring back at me as if they knew what I had possibly done. I closed the lid and snapped the silver clasps shut.

“What do we do with the rug?” I asked my best friend.

Jonah exhaled deeply and brushed the back of his hand over his forehead. He thought for a minute before replying, “Bring it with us?”

I nodded in agreement, “Okay. I’ll grab my keys.”

I headed back into the main house quickly to grab my keys and anything else I might want to bring with me. My laptop case was an obvious and I tucked Avalon’s letter in my bag too just in case I might need it again while figuring everything out.

I was ready for a quick getaway but of course that would have been too easy. Another thing that drove my wife insane? The fact that I constantly was losing everything. My keys were usually the victim of my carelessness and this moment was obviously no exception. I couldn’t find them anywhere, along the front console table or in my laptop bag or on the kitchen counter.

Jonah stepped inside the back door again, “Are you coming?”

“Yeah.” I rushed back down the hallway to the master bedroom, scanning the side tables and the front pocket of our packed suitcase hurriedly.

Time wasn’t on our side and my tendency to misplace everything I own certainly wasn’t helping. On my way back down the hallway, I caught myself on the doorway to the walk-in-closet when I saw a glint out of the corner of my eye and stepped back to see my keys peeking out of my jean’s pocket. You would think I would have checked their first. Well, sorry to break it to you, but nothing was going as expected that morning.

I grabbed my keys from my blood-stained jeans and stuffed the hoodie and pants into my laptop bag too. I stopped to grab a baseball hat and set it on my head followed by my darkest sunglasses I had in my closet to try and keep some sort of physical neutrality for going into public before meeting Jonah back on the porch. I held my keys up to him as I walked right past him and around the side of the house to the gate. He followed right behind me with the expensive box of knives in hand.

The driveway backed right onto the side gate and I unlatched it and pulled the white pickets open to let ourselves through. Ah yes, my pretty expensive Los Angeles house and my white picket fence and my dead wife. Really living the perfect American dream, huh?

I unlocked my Tesla and yanked open the back door to toss in my overflowing laptop bag and Jonah’s heavy work bag while Jonah opened the trunk and tucked the knife set in the corner. We hurried back down the driveway towards the studio door and slipped back inside, stepping over Avalon to grab the rug first. We each took an end of the heavy rolled up vintage Persian and took it down to my car. I was lucky my car had been parked in reverse in the driveway which prevented any neighbours from possibly seeing us loading the trunk with questionable items.

The last thing we needed to take care of was Avalon but we couldn’t necessarily carry her outside in a blood streaked towel. We stood over her in thought of what to do next. We needed something to keep it discreet while still being able to keep her in one piece. There was no way I would be able to stomach cutting any limbs. I had gone through enough that morning as it was.

My eyes scanned my studio for any possible solution to our situation and quickly landed on one of the large travel cases I used for my production keyboard. I looked back down at Avalon’s body and then back to the long trunk. 

This was insane.

I stepped over her and walked over to the corner of the studio where the travel trunks were stacked up. I moved a few smaller ones from the top and Jonah came over to help me once he caught on to what I was doing. I flipped open the top of the trunk and made sure it was empty except for the thin plush padding that lined the interior. 

I refrained from making a joke about it at least being a comfortable place for her to lay.

Jonah and I each took an end of the towel again and hoisted her stiff body up and over to the trunk and lowered her in slowly. I made sure the towel was tucked inside and that her arms and legs were resting flatly before closing the lid and buckled up the case. Jonah and I met each other’s eyes over top of the trunk but didn’t speak a word before picking up either end and made our way out of the studio.

The walk down the side of the house to the driveway felt like forever. There we were, in broad daylight, on a regular Tuesday morning, carrying a dead body into the trunk of my car. The production case fit nicely into the trunk – I knew it would from the amount of times I had to bring it into work or over to Jonah’s house – and I shut the trunk over top of it. I let out a shaky exhale and Jonah and I glanced blankly at each other.

Detective Team: @jonahlovescoffee​ @randomlimelightxxx​ @stuffofseaveyy​ @hopinglimelight​ @tempus-ut-luceant​ @br4nd1s​ @xkelsev​ @hiya-its-amber​ @sexyseavey15​

[1a-imagines]

Can I request hcs/scenario for Deku? They meet Pre-OfA and he starts crushing on her, nd she’s just oblivious even in UA? Thanks!

Puppy crush:

Characters: Midoriya

Type: Just a very fluffy scenario.

Overview: Midoriya's got a crush on the most oblivious person in school, and is trying his best to confess to her, though all his attempts seem to end is disaster.

"Good morning, Midoriya!"

"AAH! G-GOOD MORNING Y-Y/N!"

You let out a laugh at his upbeat attitude, not thinking to question the stuttering or the blush on his face as you passed him and walked into the school.

"Wow.. that was painful to watch." Midoroya heard Kaminari mutter from behind him.

"I do not understand… why don't you just confess already?" Iida chimed in as he followed a defeated looking Midoriya into school. He had yet again made a fool of himself in front if you. Barely managing out a stuttered reply as you greeted him. It was a repeating occurrence that happened everyday. He just couldn't stop himself from feeling tense around you. His heart beat always accelerated to a pace that knocked his breath away, and no matter how many times he tried not to, all he could ever focus on whenever you talked to him was your soft lips. He was turning into a walking disaster and it was starting to drive him insane.

Which is why he kept making an idiot of himself around you. "I-I can't just confess to her! It's not that easy.."

Kaminari raised an eyebrow. "So what? You plan to keep being an awkward mess everyday?"

'That's how I've lived my life so far izuku' thought bitterly. He couldn’t even imagine himself getting enough courage to tell you how he feels! Not to mention all the other things that were holding him back.

He sure he had no chance to be with someone like you. You were beautiful, smart, funny, caring, way out of his league. He didn’t notice himself letting out a dreamy sigh as the very thought of you.

"Oh man, you got it real bad huh?" Kaminari nudged his arm with an amused smile.

The embarrassment seeped in almost immediately. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t hide his attraction to you. Everyone in class had noticed the way he looked at you, how he always stood a bit too close to you without realising it, or how his face turned red anytime you so much as glanced at him. Everybody knew… everybody except you. If he was honest he was thankful that you were too oblivious to notice how obviously in love with you he was. He couldn’t even imagine how horrified he would feel if you found out! He could already feel a shiver run down his spine at the thought of your rejection.

“Confessing might not be easy but maybe it’s for the best? You’re constantly worried that she might find out and not only that, you’ve said quite a few times that you get distracted from your studies by the mere thought of her? This cannot carry on if it’s affecting your education!! You should confess and depending on her reaction you will either be able to relax into a relationship or learn to move on.” He couldn’t deny that Iida had a good point. A lot of his problems would go away if he just manned up a little and confessed to you But he was sure he would be rejected on the spot and his heart could take that kind of hit!

His friends shared a glance as they took notice of his inner turmoil.

“We can help you, dude! I am pretty good with the ladies!”

“You’d really do that?” He looked over to them, a spark of hope in his eyes. Maybe it was lame to have your friends help you with asking a crush out but what other choice did he have? He had no confidence to outright say it to you but you’d never figure it out otherwise! No matter how he acted you always seemed to brush it off as friendly. Even though his face turned red whenever you spoke to him, even though his eyes would avoid yours at all costs, even though he'd trip over his words and make a complete mess of himself. You never caught onto his affections. It felt hopeless.

“Of course we'll help you! Anything for a fellow classmate and friend!”

~~~~

“Hey! Y/n! Come sit with us!” Kaminari said, already dragging you over to his table and not leaving much room for you to protest. “Oh- ok?”

You walked over with him to the table, but when you got there he pushed you to sit down in between Midoriya and himself, though when he plopped down next to you he sat down so close you were forced to be squished up against Izuku. Of course, you never thought to question the behaviour, you didn’t seem too bothered by the close proximity either and began to dig into your lunch.

With your shoulders pressed so tightly together you could feel his body trembling. You turned to him, your eyes filled with worry. "Izuku what's wrong? Are you cold?"

"N-no! I'm fine!" He squeaked.

'Not fine. This is not fine!!' You were so close!! He was too scared to move. He tried to shuffle over a bit but was met with the end of his seat and he almost ended up on the floor. He looked over your shoulder to Kaminari, who was grinning. He sent Midoirya a thumbs up before mouthing "talk to her."

He sighed, this isn’t exactly what he had in mind when he agreed to let them help, but he might as well take the opportunity while you were still here. Who knows when the next chance he could talk to you might be? “So- uh.. How was your day?” He scrambled to find a conversation topic but he assumed he didn’t choose well when he saw Kaminari slap his forehead at his choice.  

“Pretty good! I still hate maths class though, it’s so hard.” You said, mouth full of food. You even had a piece of rice stuck to our cheek and he felt his heart melt at the sight. The way his eyes softened as you talked to him about class did not go unseen by the other two sitting at the table. Honestly, how could you not see the way he smiled at you? It was the dorkiest grin in the world! Iida and Kaminari shared a glance. You really were that oblivious to his affections for you? This was going to be harder than they thought.

“Cute~” He sighed dreamily.

“What?”

“AHH NOTHING!” Midoriya screamed. The way you stared at him with a blank gaze made him want to hit his head off the table. This was so embarrassing, how did he manage to say that outloud?! He couldn't believe that really just happened.

Eventually you let out a giggle, “I think you’re cute too!” You reached over to ruffle his hair. It was such a friendly gesture, he knew you meant nothing by it. It was like something a best friend would do and it killed him inside. You really didn’t see him romantically at all?

“”Well! I’m finished now! Thanks for letting me sit with you, See you guys later!” You stood up and walked off. As soon as you were gone Midoriya let his head fall into his arms on the table. Trying to hide his shame from the rest of the world. “Dude… Even I felt that...” Kaminari shook his head empathetically.

“What do you mean? She said he was cute too! That’s a success, is it not?” Iida was clearly confused as to why the other two looked so defeated. “It was the way she said it, like she was talking to a puppy or a baby rather than a romantic interest.” Kaminari explained before turning to the sulking boy next to him. “Don't worry! We’ll get it next time! You just got to be more forward!”

--

“Are you sure about this?”

“Don’t worry! We’ll be right behind you! All you gotta do is ask her out on the walk to the dorms! It’s quiet and the sun's setting! It’ll be totally romantic! You got this.” Kaminari gave him a thumbs up and Iida followed his suit though he wasn’t sure he could really be much help other than support. He had about as much knowledge on this subject matter than Midoriya did.

With one deep inhale through his nose to calm himself down Midoriya walked over to you when he saw you leaving the school. “Hey y/n! Want to walk back together?”

“Oh? Sure!” Your smile was so radiant and it rendered him speechless again. For a while the walk was silent, but didn’t feel uncomfortable, It was peaceful. Even just being in your presence felt warm. It made him giddy to know that you were walking beside him. It was a strange yet euphoric feeling to be so in love-

‘I’m… in love with her..’ The realisation that his feelings had grown stronger than just some puppy crush hit him like a truck. His hands tightened around the straps of his backpack.

He realised he didn’t have much longer before you two reached your destination. He turned around to see his friends walking at a distance behind him. They gestured to him to go for it and he took another deep breath. These were serious feelings now, they weren’t something he could take lightly or forget about. He loved you, and whether or not you reject him, he needs you to know.

Before he knew it his feet stopped walking and when you noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore you turned around. Tilting your head, “What’s wrong?”

“I-I have something I wanted to ask you.”

You hummed in confusion, gesturing for him to go on. He looked tense, his lips were pressed together tightly as if he were holding something back and it was about to burst. “Whats-”

“Please go out with me!”

There was a small silence, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you after his outburst. He didn’t have a single clue as to what you could be thinking right now, the silence was torturous.

“I’d love to.”

His legs almost gave out when you spoke. He was finally able to look up at you, his eyes shining so brightly, his smile spreading across his cheeks, despite him trying to hold it back.. He felt like he was on cloud nine, he couldn’t believe this was really happening.

“Where are we going to go? Oh! We should invite the others too!”

And like that his whole world came crashing down around him.

“Others..?” He croaked out in disbelief. Th-There's no way… there's no way you could misinterpret that! He had been so forward with you and yet you still thought he was just being friendly?

This couldn’t be happening.

He saw your lips moving but couldn’t hear a word you said. You jumped happily and began walking back to the dorms. He followed you, just barely managing to drag his body along the path, he didn't say another word- Hell! He couldn’t even think. His brain was fried. He felt completely hopeless.

“Well! I better go get some studying done! See you later!” You gave him one last smile and disappeared down the hall. Midoriya crashed down onto the nearest couch. He wanted to scream into the pillows but that was just childish. He opted for shoving his face into the plush cushions instead, once again hiding his shame from the world.

“So… I’m guessing it didn’t go well then..” He heard Iida ask.

He couldn’t even find it in him to lift his face from the pillows as he replied, “I asked if she wanted to go out with me and she said we should invite the others..” his muffled voice came.

“Yikes..” Kaminari muttered.

“Perhaps you should take a break for today? It may not have been as successful as you hoped but you can always try again tomorrow! Don't give up!” Iida cheered.

Midoriya agreed, it was time to call it quits for today. His soul, his pride, his confidence just couldn’t handle another blow like that. He wasn’t even sure he would be recovered by tomorrow. He was starting to doubt that you would ever understand how deep his feelings for you were.

He spent the rest of the evening, studying, training, honestly? Just about anything as long as he could distract himself from reliving the embarrassing memories from today.

Though, no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't let it go. They kept replaying in his mind, he could barely focus on anything. It was driving him crazy! When he was eating dinner it reminded him of the awkward lunch he had with you, and when he went on a jog he was reminded on the walk back from school. The memories were still so vivid in his head and he still strung from the sort-of-rejection.

What if you did know about his feelings for you but were just too nice to reject him? Did you think he couldn’t handle it? Sure, it would hurt, a lot, but he just wanted some answers! He wanted to know if he ever stood a chance to be with you!

He couldn’t take it anymore. In a sudden burst of confidence he marched up to your room before curfew. He couldn’t live with himself if he let this one chance slip away from him, if he let you slip away from him. Even if you didn’t feel the same, he just had to know. This whole song and dance was slowly killing him. He was going to be upfront with you and finally put an end to all of it!

When he was standing outside your door it took him a few seconds to work up the courage to actually knock. Why was he still hesitating? He shook his head, he had to do this. No backing out now!

He knocked and it only took a few seconds for you to open the door. It was getting late and you looked sleepy, you were in comfy clothes, your eyes half lidded as you rubbed at them. He bit his lip, hoping he didn’t wake you up, but this was something that had to be done. He was sure if he left it until tomorrow his confidence would fade and so would his chance to express his feelings.

But seeing how sleepy you looked- It was so cute! Why did your face make his mind go blank? You made him weak at the knees and despite coming here with full confidence it slipped a little when he remembered how beautiful, and way out of his league, you were.

“Midoriya? What are you doing here?” You muttered.

“I need to say something!” He stood tall, his lack of stutter surprised even himself.

“When I asked if you wanted to go out I didn’t mean like a friendly group outing..” This time he was able to stare into your eyes, his gaze unwavering as he spoke. You were suddenly wide awake when you saw how serious he looked “I want to go out with you! But only with you. Because I-”

‘Don’t freeze up now!’ He mentally scolded himself.

“Because I have feelings for you. “ you opened your mouth to reply but he shook his head and spoke up before you could. “More than friends. Actually.. I think I might be in love with you. So please don’t take this the wrong way, because I don’t think i’ll ever have enough courage to confess to you again.” He sent you a lopsided smile.

Your lips parted, your eyes blinking rapidly as you processed the sudden confession. “So when we were walking back to the dorms together you meant, you want to go out, like, on a date?”

He nodded. “Yeah.. like a date.” He watched your head fall into your hands with a groan and he expected the worst for a second. “Oh god! I’m so dumb!” You looked up at him with a bashful grin. “I can’t believe I didn’t catch on! That must’ve been so annoying. I’m sorry!"

“No! Don’t be sorry! I think it worked out for the better anyway. At least I was able to look at you as I confessed this time around. I actually prefer this outcome.” He rubbed the back of his neck. You bit your lip to hide your smile.

He was such a sweetheart.

“So what do you say?”

You let out a small chuckle, your eyes softening at him. “The answer is still yes! I’d love to go out on a date with you.”

The nerves left his body so quickly that it left his head spinning. He let out a big sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure what to say. This was amazing, it was a dream come true! You- you actually said yes?! You want to go on a date with him!? How could this be real? He was so happy, and he was sure the smile on his face told you that much.

“R-really you mean it?! Are you sure?”

You nodded again, letting out a laugh. “I’m very sure! I wish you could’ve given me some signs though! I had no idea you liked me too!”

“....”

“M-..Midoriya… You ok?”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Blank Slate

Summary: After losing her memories of her life with her family, the reader has to try and piece together what exactly happened to her with her husband’s help...

Pairing: Actor!Dean x reader

Word Count: 9,500ish

Warnings, language, angst, head injury, minor violence

______

“Hi mom,” said a five year old girl at the front door, the man next to you giving you a smile.

“Hi, uh, Harper,” you said.

“Harper’s my sister,” she said with a frown, glancing at the man.

“Oh, uh, hi...” you said, looking at the man for help.

“Holland. We call her Holly,” he said.

“Hi Holly,” you said, giving her a smile, watching a careful one cross onto her face.

“Mom’s head is still hurt?” she asked. The man nodded, telling the girl to go play as you caught sight of a few more adults in the house, older looking than the man by your side. He kicked off his boots and helped you with yours, letting you look around the foyer. You wandered over to a wedding picture, tilting your head at it.

“You remember anything?” he asked. You shook your head, a white framed letter hanging beside the photo you started to read. “I wrote that for you as a wedding present.”

“It’s very sweet,” you said when you finished, looking back at the picture, turning to look at him. “I can’t even remember my husband’s name without looking at a piece of paper. Or my wedding day or the names of my kids.”

“I know. I know. The doctor said this is all trauma based so your brain is all okay. We just have to get you to access those memories again. That’s why you came home from the hospital, so we could try to get them out here. Do you remember that?” he asked.

“Dr. Henderson said that yesterday,” you said, the man giving you a smile.

“Yes. He did. Your short term memory is getting better. I know you don’t see it honey but it is,” he said. “We’ll get you there. I promise.”

“What’s your name again?” you asked.

“Dean,” he said softly. “Sometimes you call me Dean or Winchester or De or dork or honey or babe or Deanie Weanie if you want to tease me or...you’ve got a lot of nicknames for me actually.”

“Dean,” you said with a nod. “Dean...”

“Winchester,” he said with a smile. “That’s your last name too.”

“It used to be Y/L/N,” you said, Dean nodding. “I remember old stuff. This must be really annoying for you.”

“Nah. I get to remind you why we fell in love all over again. What’s so bad about that?” he teased, kissing your cheek. You liked it, not sure why but then his lips were pulled away and he was holding your hand, moving you along to the back of the house. You entered a kitchen area, spotting three kids playing in a family room, two other adults talking at the counter. “Hey guys.”

“Hi sweetie,” said the woman, walking over and giving you a hug. The man did the same as you took a moment to see a few similarities between them and Dean.

“You’re his parents,” you said, Dean smiling wide. “Don and Molly?”

“John and Mary but close,” she said.

“You remembered that on your own,” said Dean.

“Your perfume sort of...reminded me of a cozy house on a rainy day, it smelled like vanilla inside I think,” you said.

“It was raining the first time I took you to my parents house,” said Dean. “I told you coming home would be good for you.”

“So what are you guys doing here?” you asked.

“We’ve just been helping out with the kids,” said your father in law, his smile falling away when you frowned. “It’s really no trouble.”

“Where are my parents?” you asked. You saw your in laws look at Dean, his gaze going to the floor. “I remember my parents.”

“I can’t keep doing this to her,” said Dean quietly , looking at his dad. “I can’t.”

“They died,” said John, Dean squeezing his eyes shut. “A while ago, honey. You were at college when they were in a car accident.”

“Oh,” you said, blinking a few times. “I didn’t know Dean back then, did I.”

“No, you didn’t,” said Dean, lifting his head. “This isn’t your normal reaction to that news.”

“How many times have you told me this?” you asked.

“About ten or so. About once a day you ask,” he said. You stared at him, that happy mask slipping slightly. “Normally you get upset. Really, really upset.”

“How did I hurt my head? Or have this trauma thing happen to me that’s making me forget?” you asked.

“I can’t answer that, sweetheart,” said Dean.

“Why not?” you asked.

“The doctors don’t one hundred percent know,” he said.

“You’re saying I went insane or something? Why not lock me up then?” you said, not sure where your anger was coming from. Dean scowled at you, grabbing your hand and asking for a moment of privacy. He pulled you upstairs and to a bedroom, sitting you down before he knelt in front of you.

“All we know that happened was it was a Friday morning. You were perfectly fine when I buckled up the kids for daycare and to drop them off at school and stop at the winery quick. We have one of those by the way. You were alone for a few hours, taking some time to relax, do a few things around here. When I got homelater on, you were sitting in the middle of the floor just completely out of it. After you woke up at the hospital, you couldn’t remember anything. We were doing a few renovations on the house so the security system was down for a few weeks and that’s around when all of this happened. You just locked up on us, honey. You wouldn’t tell us what happened and then we realized just how bad your head got hurt. Nothing was stolen and the police are still working on it but we just don’t know what happened to you,” he said.

“Did I give the bruises on my arms to myself? Could I have just fallen down and hit my head?” you asked, holding them up.

“It’s possible but I don’t believe that, not with how scared my badass wife was,” he said. “I think someone came here and hurt you.”

“You think someone hurt me?” you asked. “Do you think it was Ricky?”

“Ricky?" asked Dean. “Your college boyfriend? I know you guys had a bad breakup but didn’t he turn out to be like a pediatrician?”

“Well my brain is weird right now and to be honest, you’re a stranger to me,” you said. “I don’t even remember you. I don’t remember any of these people in this house.”

“Do you want them to leave? I can ask my parents to take the kids,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You grabbed his wrist and brought his palm to your cheek, moving his fingers.

“Do that again,” you said.

“Why? Remember something?” asked Dean, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone.

“No. It makes me feel okay even though I am definitely not,” you said.

“The stuff I told you didn’t scare you?” he asked.

“It scared me. But everything is scary right now. I remember from school that if your memory doesn’t come back soon after an accident, it probably won’t, not all the way,” you said. Dean looked down at his feet, shoulders sagging. “It’s okay.”

“I have more scary news if you think you can handle it,” he said.

“Like I said, it can’t get much worse,” you said.

“What is the absolutely last thing you remember? Not me or a hospital but before that,” he said.

“I was in a car with my parents,” you said.

“That was the accident with your family, this memory thing...it’s mental right now. It’s not physical. The memories are there but your brain sort of froze up, using that other traumatic event as a stopping point,” he said.

“So I’m the one preventing me from remembering?” you asked.

“Yeah but it’s not that simple. You had a trauma and no one knows exactly what happened. Until you can process it, you’re in a bit of limbo for now,” he said.

“So I’m nuts,” you said, an angry glare crossing his face. He sat back on his heels and put his hands on your legs, lifting his head up.

“Please stop saying that. You’re hurt, not nuts,” he said.

“I have brain trauma that’s all likely mental from what you said. I think I’m nuts,” you said.

“I was the one that told you to take the morning off, enjoy yourself. I’m the reason you were here alone,” he said.

“It’s not your fault I went full on Cuckoo's Nest,” you said.

“You were attacked. You are not crazy and I’m sick of having this argument,” he said.

“How many times have we…” you said.

“This is the fourth time. Normally you don’t get this far in the conversation before you ask to be left alone. The whole you not remembering these conversations is the reason they say it was mental trauma,” he said.

“What’d you do different this time?” you asked. “I’m not going to ask you to leave me alone.”

“I don’t know. You’re home for the first time, some place familiar. Maybe you feel safer here, maybe less, maybe it’s because it’s Thursday. I don’t have a clue, Y/N,” he said.

“I don’t want to argue with you,” you said.

“Me either,” he said.

“Tell me about you, or us, or our family,” you said.

“You want to know how we met?” he asked.

“Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

“Hey, kiddo,” said your father in law a few hours later. The kids were in bed and most everyone was asleep apart from the two of you and Dean who was off somewhere else in the big house. “How you holding up?”

“Okay,” you said, flipping through a wedding album, trying to put names to faces. “Thank you for watching the kids.”

“It’s not a problem,” he said. He was quiet as you flipped through the rest of the book. You looked happy and completely in love with the man in the photos. You wished you could remember it though. “You got that look on your face.”

“Hm?” you asked.

“You’re thinking hard about something,” he said.

“I’m trying to figure out my life,” you said.

“I’m a hell of a lot older than you and I haven’t figured it out yet,” he said.

“It’s been almost two weeks Dean said. I barely remember any of that,” you said.

“S’alright,” he said. You stared at him, getting a smile in return. “Do you want to know the first time he introduced you to us?”

“Sure. Earlier he said it was raining, right?” you asked.

“I think so. It was a few weeks before thanksgiving. He wanted to make sure you got to meet us first before the whole family,” he said. “You weren’t the first girl he ever brought home but it was different than the few before. He liked those girls but they were too different to ever work. You were quiet but friendly, kept trying to help out in the kitchen or with dishes. More than a bit nervous. You two kept looking at each other, like you were asking him if you were acting okay.”

“That’s normal,” you said.

“Yeah. It was still a little awkward and then I asked a question about your family or something like that and Dean got very defensive. I remembered he’d asked us not to bring that up but I was trying to get you to open up. You snapped at him a little, told him it was alright even though you clearly weren’t comfortable with talking about it. We sort of left you two kids alone for a minute before he walked into the kitchen. I was expecting an apology but he was still angry and wanted to understand why I’d done it. We’d never seen him like that before and realized it’d really upset him. He was afraid that you wouldn’t like us because of it and he went off on a tail spin when I caught you standing in the doorway and you just looked at me with this smile like you knew he’d calm down in a minute,” he said.

“Did he?” you asked.

“Yeah. He left after a moment to go find you and you snuck in and apologized for him. I told you not to do that and that he was an adult and could do it himself. You told us very calmly that you disagreed. I thought that was an odd thing for you to say and you just stared, with that same look on your face, thinking hard of how to say what you wanted to,” he said.

“What did I say?” you asked.

“Dean came back and sighed, apologizing and trying to get everyone past the whole thing. But you were more guarded with your answers and questions after that. You excused yourself to the bathroom and he said you two were going to get going. You’d only been over for two hours but things were going south and we know our boy. Sometimes he just shuts everything out when he’s stressed and wants to get out of the situation. We were going to let him go but you came back and saw him getting ready to leave and pulled him aside. I don’t know what you said but he was more relaxed when he came back, said he was mistaken about the time or something like that. Total bull but he was just better again. No one had ever gotten through to him before when he gets like that, no one. But you did. You kept trying to be relaxed for us and him after that and later on you tried to explain that he got protective of you, like it wasn’t obvious.

“That’s when you told me this was important to him, to you as well, but very much so to him because there was no meeting the parents for him. There was no meeting the family. He really wanted us to like each other because he wanted you to have something you’d lost and missed. And all you were concerned about was that we weren’t mad at our son because you thought that’s what was important. You wanted us all to have a good relationship because you thought he was important. It hit me that you didn’t care about getting close to anyone past a surface level. Then it hit me that despite all that, you were still trying, for him. He got close and I guessed you didn’t want to like him or fall in love with him or any of it. But you did, and you tried, because when you love someone like that, you try for them,” he said.

“I have a feeling we’re close despite our first interaction,” you said.

“By the time thanksgiving rolled around it was like you were another one of the kids. You warmed up to us real fast,” he said.

“So were you trying to say that I shouldn’t worry because I have a good husband looking out for me?” you said.

“I was simply saying how we met. Up to you to look at it like that,” he said with a smile.

“”You’re definitely that guy’s dad,” you said. He laughed and stood up from his chair.

“Yes, I am and alright eavesdropper, I’m heading to bed. You should probably get this one in one soon too,” he said, glancing at a doorway, Dean rounding it with crossed arms.

“How do you always know?” he asked.

“You’re my kid, that’s how,” he said, ruffling Dean’s head as he went past. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” you said. Dean gave you a soft smile. “Tired?”

“Everyone had a long day. We should get some sleep,” he said.

You followed him upstairs, Dean showing you your closet to change in, banging a few things around in the bathroom before you walked out and caught him in a tee and boxers.

“I turned up the thermostat since you like it warm,” he said. “I’ll be down the hall if you need me.”

“We don’t sleep in the same room?” you asked. He gave a quiet laugh before offering a smile.

“I’m not making you sleep next to me when you don’t know me,” he said. “We got a comfy couch I can crash on.”

“Thanks,” you said. “For trying to not scare me.”

“Of course, honey,” he said.

“But the point of me coming home was to get me back in my routine and I think we should sleep in the same bed,” you said.

“If that’s what you want. Feel free to kick me out anytime though,” he said. You waited by the end of the bed, Dean next to you. Both nightstands were fairly empty at the moment and you couldn’t tell from that who had what side. He seemed to stare at you, waiting to see if you’d remember.

“I sleep left but...I think you like the left too so you get that side and…I got something for it,” you said.

“You got to pick out our dog at the shelter,” he said. “You remembered that just now.”

“It was more a gut feeling than memory,” you said.

“It was still something,” he said. You shrugged and crawled into bed, Dean sliding under the covers after a moment but keeping his space in the king sized thing. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you said, turning onto your side.

“Love you,” he said quietly, more for himself than you. You looked over your shoulder, his back to you. You reached a hand out and rested it on top of his head, slowly moving your fingers through the strands. His muscles relaxed, a large breath leaving him.

“I don’t know you but I’m glad I have you to help me,” you said.

“S’been a long two weeks,” he said quietly. “I’m scared you’ll wake up tomorrow and have forgotten again.”

“I’m not,” you said.

“Why?” he asked.

“Just got a good feeling I won’t,” you said. He rolled over onto his back, smiling softly at you. “I love you.”

“You don’t have to say it, Y/N,” he said.

“Just because I can’t remember that I do doesn’t mean it’s not true,” you said.

“Alright, you win this one, Winchester,” he said. “Night.”

“Night, Dean.”

“Morning,” said Dean, walking out of the bathroom in a t shirt and pair of comfy looking sweats. “I figured a lazy day at home would be best to ease into things.”

“Yeah. I think so too, Dean,” you said, scratching your head with a sleepy smile. “I remember yesterday so no need to freak out on me.”

“I will let you get ready for the day then,” he said, watching you move out of bed and back to the closet, pulling out some clothes after a few helpful nods to the right drawers to go to. He let you take care of yourself mostly, lingering in the bedroom only if you truly couldn’t find something you wanted before he eventually left.

After a hot shower, you changed and headed down the stairs, a small child nearly tripping you as she ran past in the kitchen.

“Holly! No running!” said Dean, the little girl immediately freezing. “We got to be careful of mom, remember?”

“Sorry,” she said, turning around and walking over to you. She seemed hesitant but you bent down and gave her a hug, a smile instantly across her face. “I made my bed and helped daddy make the pancake batter.”

“You did? You’re such a big girl helping out like that,” you said, picking her up and carrying her over to the counter, quickly finding her far heavier than you were expecting. She stared at you for a moment before looking at her father.

“Daddy says you can’t remember us because your head got hurt,” she said.

“That’s right,” you said, taking a seat next to her, Dean watching the pair of you from the other side of the island where he worked. “I know I love you very much though.”

“But you’re gonna remember, right?” she asked. “You’ll get better?”

“Holly,” said Dean quietly. “We talked about this. Multiple times.”

“But-”

“Holly. I need you to be a big girl for me, okay? For me and mom,” he said. “Mommy’s going to try to remember but if she doesn’t, that’s okay too.”

“Okay,” she said, looking at her placemat. “Can I have orange juice?”

“Sure,” you said, getting out of your seat, pausing when you couldn’t find a fridge.

“Right here, hun,” said Dean, slapping a cabinet. You pulled on the handle and realized it was a double door fridge with a freezer on bottom.

“Are we rich?” you asked, Dean smirking as you found the orange juice. “What do you do for a living? What do I do for a living?”

“Well at the moment, you’re a stay at home mom and you run the winery with me and my brother,” said Dean.

“We must make like super awesome wine,” you said, looking at the cabinets, Dean nodding towards one and you found glasses inside.

“Daddy plays pretend on TV,” said Holly.

“An actor?” you said, shaking your head. “You are so not an actor.”

“I so am an actor,” he teased, sliding a few pancakes onto a few plates. “You little missy, wrote for that TV show until we had the second round of kids and it was too much to juggle everything. You occasionally do some editing now that the winery is going good but mainly keeping care of the rugrats is your main job.”

“Speaking of which, I have other children I...I don’t remember them,” you said quietly.

“Grandpa and Grandma took the twins to swimmies,” said Holly, squeezing a big puddle of syrup on her pancakes.

“Oh. Do you know how to swim?” you asked, Holly nodding.

“Harper and the little dude are young but even with the pool and the fence around it, we figured better safe than sorry,” said Dean.

“Little dude,” you said, knowing he was trying to get you to remember. “We have three kids?”

“Yup,” said Dean, motioning for you to sit down, Holly already chowing down on her first piece as you sat next to her. You grabbed your fork and knife, taking a few deep breaths. “His name is Axel.”

“I don’t remember anything,” you said, gripping the utensils tight until Dean rested a hand on your thigh. “I don’t remember.”

“Mom,” said Holly, poking your shoulder. You looked away from Dean, a curious little face looking up at you. “S’okay. I still love you.”

“You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever met,” you said, giving her a hug, Dean rubbing his hand up and down your back as you ate breakfast together. Holly was very well behaved and you had a feeling she was used to helping out in the kitchen, working with Dean and showing you where things went as you picked up.

“Can I go play in my room?” she asked, Dean humming before she took off.

“Wow. She’s mature for her age,” you said.

“Sometimes,” said Dean with a knowing smile, just in time for the door from the garage to open. You recognized John and Mary, walking in with two small kids. The kids both stared at you for a moment before they ran over and hugged your legs, both trying to pepper you with kisses. “Mommy’s home, guys.”

“Mommy, I miss you,” said the girl, Harper. The boy echoed a similar sentiment, his vocabulary not quite there yet but he was hugging you so tight it may have rivaled his father’s.

“Mommy,” said Axel, wrapping his arms around your neck, attempting to climb on top of you.

“I missed you guys too,” you said, picking them both up and giving them each a kiss. “How was swim class?”

Axel went off on a tangent, most of which you didn’t understand but Harper interpreted what he was saying, something about a big splash and soon Dean was over, scooping Harper out of your arms.

“Alright. I think you two are due for a bath to get that stinky chlorine off you and we’ll give grandma and grandpa some time to themselves for a change,” said Dean.

“It’s the first full day back, Dean,” said Mary, giving you a smile.

“I know and you’re not on babysitting duty today. Go hang out at home. If I need you, I’ll call,” he said.

“Call anyways,” said John. “We’ll see you guys real soon.”

“Later,” said Dean as they headed out, carrying Harper over to the stairs. You followed with Axel, same green eyes as Dean, your son staring happily at you.

“I love you, mommy,” he said.

“I love you too,” you said, kissing his cheek, pausing at the top of the stairs. Dean turned around, looking at you.

“Y/N? You alright?” he asked.

“I got one of those feelings again,” you said, walking again.

“What kind of feelings?” he asked.

“I love these kids so freaking much,” you said, Dean laughing.

“Well that’s good,” he teased, stopping outside of a door, pushing it open. You followed him inside to a bathroom, playful colored towels and kids shampoos in the tub area. “This is the bathroom for the kids. Holly has a bathroom in her own room but we decided to wait until she’s a little older to have her own.”

“Alright,” you said, Dean setting Harper down on the floor. He went over to the tub and put in a stopper, starting to fill it up as he tugged off her clothes. You mimicked what he was doing with Axel, Dean laughing when you had trouble getting his shorts off.

“To think I’m the one that’s always been awful at this,” he said, helping you get them off. He peeled off Harper’s diaper, tossing it in the trash, doing the same with Axel’s. He tested the water with his hand to make sure it wasn’t too hot before he lifted him up and set him in the water, up to his little waist, doing the same with Harper. He put a few little rubber toys in the water to distract them. “Okay, mom. Normally we wash hair first then soap up.”

He reached around you and grabbed some kid friendly shampoo, squirting some in your hands. He did the same and worked on Harper’s hair, nodding for you to clean up Axel. You were paranoid about getting it in his eyes with how much he turned his head around, Dean sighing and grabbing your wrists, moving them a little lower. He shook off his hands in the water and grabbed a pair of little bowls, handing one to you.

“Just watch me, Y/N. It’s super easy,” he said. He filled it with water and put his hand on Harper’s forehead, he head tilting back with a little giggle as he gently poured the water out. You started to do the same with Axel, Dean smiling when you kept pausing to make sure it wouldn’t splash all over his face. “We’ve both gotten soap in their eyes before. It’s not the end of the world if it happens.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you said, Dean taking the bowl away after a moment, squirting some soap in your hands.

“Neither one of us has known what we were doing from the second we found out you were pregnant with Holly. You get used to it,” he said, rubbing some of the soap on Harper’s chest, playing with one of her boats with her for a moment. You again tried to do the same with Axel, big wide eyes staring at you. “He’s a goof and knows he’s gonna get bubbles all over him so prepare for him to turn into a giggling mess.”

You barely had started to soap him up before you heard the first laugh, Harper joining in as you cleaned him, Dean wearing a big smile as their giggles got louder and louder. You hadn’t realized you were laughing with them until Dean was moving the stopper out of the way and plucking them both out of the tub and wrapping them up in big towels.

“They are so cute,” you said, Dean smiling while he ran a towel through their hair.

“They get it from you,” he said, the two of you working to dry them off before Dean slipped out of the room, returning with two sets of clothes. He grabbed something from under the sink, handing one to you. A diaper.

“I don’t-”

“I know,” he said softly. “Putting it on is real easy and once somebody makes a mess, I’ll show you how to clean it up too. Both these guys are pretty well behaved in that department.”

Dean took extra time to show you how it was done, letting you do Axel with his help, both of you getting them into some clothes.

“Okay, dudes. You’ve had a long morning so time for a little nap,” said Dean, picking them both up, getting a round of giggles as he carried them across the hall and into their shared bedroom. He set them each down in their cribs and gave them both a blanket and stuffed animal, the pair of them passed out before he could leave the room. “We’ll wake ‘em up in about twenty minutes. They need naps after swim days or else they get very cranky by the time lunch rolls around.”

“I need a parenting guidebook,” you said. “Or a drink.”

“We got both but probably not a good idea just yet,” he teased, heading back down stairs with you, plopping down on the couch. You sat next to him, Dean smiling at you. “You look tired, sweetheart.”

“My head feels like it’s going a thousand miles an hour straight into a brick wall. I keep trying to remember things, like giving baths, but I just can’t,” you said.

“You’ll get there,” he said.

“Will I though?” you asked.

“If you don’t, we’ll still be here for you,” said Dean, smiling softly at you.

“What do I normally do when I’m not feeling great?” you asked.

“Cuddles. A blanket,” he said. You nodded and grabbed one from a nearby basket, sitting down closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Is this okay?” you asked.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he said, moving his arm around the back of your shoulders. “Is that-”

“It’s okay,” you said, glancing up at him. “If it’s ever not, I’ll let you know but you don’t have to ask all the time, Dean.”

“Alright,” he said.

“This is something we normally do, right?” you asked.

“Sit and cuddle each other? Yeah. Even your manly husband likes a good cuddle,” he said, a laugh in his words.

“Oh,” you said.

“Oh, what?” he asked.

“You seem very sweet is all, not like you’re a tough tough guy. I mean you seem tough but not mean. I’m sorry that doesn’t-“

“It’s okay,” he said. “You just have a well rounded husband.”

“That sounds nice,” you said.

“It is. It’s a bit of a lie,” he said, smiling sadly at you. “I get wrapped up in my own head sometimes. Take this whole situation for instance. Normally, you’d be the one telling me it wasn’t my fault and a whole bunch of other stuff to help me realize that. But you can’t do those things right now, which is totally okay, but I have to try and be that person on my own and it’s fucking hard.”

“Well I don’t blame you,” you said.

“You don’t know what happened,” he said.

“No but I don’t blame you,” you said.

“I don’t think you’re in the position to really think straight,” he said.

“Well I don’t think you’re in the position to tell me how I feel,” you said, sitting up to get a better look at him. “I look at you and I worry and I do not understand why. All I can guess is that it comes from a place of love. Maybe I don’t remember how to tell if you’re feeling crappy or whatever but a part of me does and it needs you to be better too. I know this is hard and you basically wound up with another kid to watch and make sure I’m okay but we’ll get through this.”

“But what if-“ he said before you put a finger to his lips.

“Relax,” you said, Dean slumping back into his seat.

“I’m supposed to take care of you. Not the other way around,” he said.

“I’m guessing that we normally take care of each other and trying to get me normal again means we act normal which means I take care of you too,” you said, leaning back against his shoulder. “I have the feeling you haven’t let anyone take care of you the past few weeks.”

“Even when you go all beautiful mind, you still know the right thing to say,” he said, brushing his finger over your cheek.

“Did you insult me while we’re having a moment?” you deadpanned.

“Now you sound just like you,” he teased, kissing the tip of your nose. You got a headache and sat back into the cushions, wiping at your nose. “Y/N? You okay?”

“My nose,” you said, tapping the end of it. “It was wet. I remember it was wet!”

“That...okay,” he said, forcing a smile. “I suppose that’s...helpful.”

“Why would my nose have been wet?” you asked. He cupped your cheek and smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. “What?”

“You take a shower every morning. You’re probably just remembering that, honey,” he said.

“Oh,” you said. He kissed your cheek and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest but you were pretty sure it was more for him than you. “Dean, I’m alright.”

“Someone hurt you,” he said. “And I have no idea who did it. I couldn’t protect you the first time around and I have no idea if I can do it if this person comes back.”

“But you’re really big and strong,” you said. “And who knows? Maybe I fell and am just nuts or something.”

“Y/N. I know being nice to yourself isn’t always easy but can you please stop calling yourself nuts. Something traumatizing happened that caused this. You aren’t nuts. You got scared because something horrible happened, I’m sure of it. Please don’t say that again. I hate it,” he said. You turned your head and gave him a small nod. “Thank you.”

“You need to let someone take care of you too though, got it? I can’t remember, it doesn’t mean I’m useless,” you said.

“Okay,” he said softly. You reached a hand up to his hair and rubbed his head, Dean nuzzling into the touch. “We got a doctor’s appointment to get you to soon.”

“That sounds not fun,” you said. He chuckled as you gave him a head massage, resting it on your shoulder for a moment.

You still didn’t really know him or who he was. But you could feel something towards him, very much like the reaction you had with the kids.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked. He nodded and you leaned over, pressing your lips to his. Dean didn’t move and you shifted back after a moment. You tilted your head at him, doing it again once more before you sat back in your seat. “That is so weird.”

“What is?” he asked.

“I am in love with you. Unconditionally. I barely know a thing about you but I know that much,” you said.

“Even if it never comes back, we got this, alright?” he said.

“Yeah. Can you show me around the house some?” you asked. He smiled and grabbed your hand.

“I’d love to, honey.”

“I don’t like it here,” you mumbled, kicking your legs against the bed in the doctor’s office. Dean hummed from the chair in the room, giving you a smile when he glanced away from his phone. “I want to go home.”

“The doctor just has to give us the test results and then we’ll go. Want to grab some food on the way home?” he asked.

“Okay. I still don’t like it here,” you said, rubbing your bare arm.

“I don’t like it here either,” he said, leaning back in his seat. The door opened and he stood up, the doctor giving him a friendly smile.

“Dean, Y/N. Sorry about the wait,” he said, holding up a file. “So...we did a blood test when you first got in. Dean, if you wouldn’t mind waiting outside a moment?”

“Why,” he asked.

“Because I asked. It’ll only be a moment,” he said. Dean glanced at you but you nodded and he left, the doctor shutting the door. “Y/N, we saw something a little odd in the blood work.”

“Odd?” you asked.

“Traces of a drug. Most people know it by its street name. Roofies,” he said.

“Someone gave me roofies?” you said.

“Well, no but it’s very similar. It didn’t show up on any tests before because we weren’t looking for it,” he said.

“Why’d you decide to look for it?” you asked.

“Because something seems off about this whole situation which is why I asked Dean to leave the room,” he said.

“You think my husband drugged me?”

“I don’t know who did what. All I can say for certain is that there is a four hour time period in which you could have been drugged. It would explain the memory loss of that event. The rest...it’s likely a combination of the drugs and self-regression,” he said.

“So I’ll never remember?”

“I’m not sure you’ll ever remember the event. But everything before that, I think you can. I think whatever happened you didn’t want to deal with it so you shut it all away. Your physical injuries weren’t life threatening so that leads me to believe it was environmental, something that was said or threatened. I think, because of the reaction you had, it had to have been done by someone close to you, someone you trust,” he said. “Who that is, you and the police have to figure out but that’s my medical opinion on what happened.”

“Dean wouldn’t hurt me,” you said.

“Y/N.”

“He wouldn’t,” you said. “Now let him back in.”

“I know the cops think I did it,” he said, rubbing his temple at a red light. “Why wouldn’t they suspect me? I make sense on paper.”

“I don’t think you did it,” you said.

“Thanks,” he laughed, hitting the gas when it turned green. “No one is really going to listen to you at the moment though, sweetheart.”

“Well we’ll figure it out then,” you said.

“How do you trust me so easily?”

“Because I still feel good and safe with you. If you hurt me, I don’t think that’d be the case,” you said.

“You might not remember if I’d hurt you though,” he said.

“Do you want me to believe it was you or something?” you asked.

“No. But I don’t want you to be so trusting of people,” he said. You stared at him as he drove, Dean resting his head in his hand. “What do you want to eat, honey?”

“You pick what you want,” you said.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, sighing as he made a left towards a to go place. He parked and moved to get out of the car but you grabbed his hand, Dean staring back at you.

“I won’t be so trusting of people. But I’m going to trust you, okay?” you said.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

“Hey, Dean,” you said, finding him in the home office after lunch, going over some bills from the look of it. “How come I haven’t met Sam? Well...seen Sam?”

“He’s kind of doing both your jobs right now and hospitals make him...ah, Jess. I forgot. You wouldn’t know. So our sister-in-law, Jess, she almost died in a fire once. It was a really bad night for Sam. When everything went down with you, he volunteered to deal with the kids and stuff so he wouldn’t have to go back. It sounds shitty but the guy is freaking terrified of hospitals. We can invite those guys over for dinner if you want,” said Dean.

“I was just…” you trailed off, Dean lifting his head.

“You think it was Sammy,” he said.

“I didn’t say-“

“I’ve been thinking it too unfortunately,” sighed Dean. He ran his hands over his face and you shut the office door, taking a seat on the comfy chair. “He’s been reluctant to see you and I haven’t spoken to Jess in weeks.”

“Do you think something happened to her?” you asked.

“Jess? No. Sammy would kill for her. He’d never…” said Dean. “Oh shit. I think I know what’s going on.”

“What’s going on?”

“Sam,” said Dean at one end of the conference table in the police station. “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Dean,” said a police officer, holding up a hand. “Let’s try to be calm.”

“He tried to kidnap my wife!” said Dean.

“But I didn’t,” said Sam. “I’m risking Jessica’s life just saying this. I am lucky she’s even still alive.”

“Oh so it’s my fault you nearly killed my wife?”

“I was never gonna kill her! Even drugged up...” said Sam. “Then I just...came to my senses and left.”

“Well thanks for traumatizing her!” growled Dean.

“Guys! Both of you just shut up and let the cop talk,” you said.

“Thank you,” said the officer. “Now, Sam. You were saying after you decided not to follow through on abducting Y/N, you returned home?”

“Yes. I thought she was gonna be okay and left. Then I got a call from Dean asking to pick up the kids later from school because Y/N was having a hard time remembering. He said someone must have come in and attacked her and I am so sorry, Y/N.”

“You don’t talk to her,” said Dean.

“I think I can decide who does and doesn’t talk to me, Dean,” you said. “Keep going.”

“He-“

“Sam,” you said, cutting Dean off. “Talk.”

“So...I didn’t do what I was supposed to obviously but I was offered another chance to get Y/N and bring her to this person. Trade for Jess,” he said. “I’ve been buying a little time and said Y/N got hurt and it would be impossible to get her and...I was gonna say something. I just…” said Sam, closing his eyes. “I got scared.”

“I can’t…” said Dean standing up and grabbing your hand. You shook out of it, Dean staring at you. “I’m not leaving you in a room alone with him.”

“First off, there’s a cop literally right there. Second, if he wanted me, I’d be gone. You need to go cool off. Go. Now,” you said. Dean shook his head and walked out, the officer staring at you. “What?”

“Your brother-in-law did admit to trying to-”

“I’m not pressing any charges against him,” you said, Sam turning his head towards you. “Shocking, I know. But Dean’s pissed enough for the both of us right now and I know...you could have hurt me if you wanted to. But you didn’t and Jess still needs help so right now, let’s just work on that, alright?”

“Thank you,” said Sam, giving you a half smile.

“Alright,” said the officer with a deep breath. “Do you have any idea who this person is that took your wife?”

“I think it’s a woman to be honest,” said Sam.

“Why would you say that?”

“When she let me talk to Jess she was using one of those voice things to make her voice deeper but she moved it away to put Jess on and she told Jess to talk and it was definitely a chick,” said Sam.

“You’re saying a woman took Jessica and is the one that wanted Y/N?” he said.

“Wait, my husband is kind of famous, isn’t he? TV famous but still…” you said, the officer nodding his head.

“Let’s go see if the other Mr. Winchester is calm enough to join the discussion again.”

“Bonnie Tyler,” said the lead detective on the case, slapping down a file a few hours later. “Your stalker from six years ago.”

“She wasn’t a stalker,” said Dean. “Just...an overzealous fan.”

“Bonnie Tyler put in her notice at work shortly before Jessica disappeared. She has also started, according to her credit card statements, frequenting the winery. Are we staring to get the picture?” asked the detective.

“But if she took Jess, why wouldn’t she ask for Dean instead? Isn’t that who she wants?” asked Sam.

“Oh I’m sure of it. But Jess most likely hasn’t seen her face if Bonnie’s willing to risk running into her again,” said the detective.

“Running into her where?” said Dean.

“Most likely the winery where I suspect her plan was to introduce herself to the newly single Dean Winchester,” he said. “If Y/N were to go missing that is.”

“What,” said Dean.

“She targeted the girls so that she could, likely, attempt to swoop in and become romantically involved. It’s probably not good news for whatever she had planned for Y/N,” he said.

“Oh. Awesome,” you said.

“Jess was taken because of you,” said Sam, cocking his head at Dean.

“You think I don’t know that?” said Dean, putting a hand on his head. “Can’t you guys just go to this psycho's house and arrest her?”

“We risk a chance of losing Jessica if we do that,” said the detective. Sam dropped his head, Dean glancing across the table at his brother.

“I am sorry, Sam. I am. It doesn’t excuse what you did,” said Dean.

“Well, I’m gonna have to live a dead wife most likely so thanks for adding onto the already giant pile of shit I feel like,” said Sam.

“I said it doesn’t excuse it, dumbass. I didn’t say I don’t forgive you,” said Dean. Sam lifted his head up, Dean giving him a nod. “I’ve been plenty scared the past few weeks too so I get that helpless feeling. I do. But we gotta be on the same team.”

“I’ll do whatever they want me to,” said Sam.

“Me too,” you said, both of them turning to you. “I can’t remember but not helpless, remember?”

“There’s a ploy here,” said the detective, looking at you and then Sam. “But I want to see that Y/N’s mentally fit before we even consider it.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to do this,” said Dean, tucking your hair behind your ear a few hours later.

“She’s our family...and Sam made a mistake, a mistake you very easily could have made if you were in his place,” you said.

“I know. I don’t...if I’m being honest with myself, I’d have considered it. It’s impossible not to,” he said.

“So you don’t hate Sam?” you asked.

“No. He didn’t know that would happen with you. No one did,” he said.

“I’m sort of hoping I get another kind of shock and it all comes back,” you said.

“Well, it’s not everyday you get to play victim in a police operation,” he said, rubbing up and down your arms. “If things go bad and this bitch gets near you, you put her down. I ain’t raising three kids by myself.”

“I’ll be okay, Dean,” you said.

“Be careful,” he said, kissing your temple as Sam walked over. “If worse comes to worse-”

“I got her back,” said Sam. “Jess is gonna kick my ass for everything so you’ll have to get in line behind her.”

“If worse comes to worse, both of you don’t be idiots, alright?” said Dean. You nodded and Sam gave Dean a small one.

“You two ready to go?” asked the detective as he came over.

“As we’ll ever be.”

You weren’t entirely surprised when things stopped following the plan and you and Sam were left to wing it. Jess looked relatively okay and aside from a look at Sam like she was pissed, the actual swap went okay.

The you getting in a car part with Bonnie definitely wasn’t happening though.

“But I don’t understand,” you said, trying to play the idiot. “I don’t even know these people!”

“Listen, I know you’re even more of an idiot now than you were then but you got to go,” said Bonnie.

“I don’t even know who those guys are! I don’t remember anything!” you said. She shoved you against the car door, cocking her head. “Please. I don’t care what your problem with these people is, just let me go.”

“I can’t,” she said.

“If I did something to you, I’m sorry. I don’t remember,” you said.

“It’s not personal, alright? You’re just in the way,” she said.

“Tell me how to get out of it and I’ll move,” you said.

“Sorry. You’re too recognizable and they won’t stop looking until you’re gone,” she said, pulling out a knife. “Get in the car, Y/N.”

“Can I at least-“ you said before you kicked out with your leg and proceeded to head butt her. She groaned and you kicked out again, slipping out of the loose zip ties finally.

She clocked you in the face and your head spun but you managed to hit the knife out of her hands.

“A little help over here!” you shouted, blocking a hit, surprised at yourself for doing so. She tried to go low but you stopped that one too. “Guess who’s got muscle memory back.”

“Guess who can shut up,” she said, pulling out a second knife from her back pocket. You glanced your eyes just over her shoulder, Bonnie spinning around long enough for you to get the drop on her.

“Bonnie, just stop,” you said, kicking away the knives. She took the opportunity to push back and slam you against the car, breaking free and shoving you again, your head hitting the back door.

You woke up with a headache but you felt intact. Dean was yawning as he watched TV, a stuffed animal shoved next to you.

“Hey,” you said, Dean turning towards you, immediately waking up some as he moved his chair around. “Dean Winchester, born January 24th, grew up in Lawrence, Kansas and who hid hiccups at our wedding.”

“I’m glad to know you’re still going to tease the shit out of me over that,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I kinda remember being halfway decent in that fight earlier,” you said.

“Well you are pretty good, if you could have remembered the moves,” he said.

“Should have got her in the stomach,” you said, closing your eyes. “I’ll take the fact I’m not dead as a good sign?”

“Yeah. They grabbed her. Jess is okay, a few doors down actually. She nearly strangled Sam and then strangled me and let’s say Bonnie should be living in fear from Jess’ wrath,” laughed Dean.

“How’s Sam?” you asked.

“Oh, wallowing in self-guilt when he’s not doting on Jess. You know, typical, Sammy behavior,” he said with a smirk.

“I can remember more of what happened, with Sam,” you said.

“Sammy not giving us the full picture?” asked Dean.

“He didn’t scare me. Not really. In fact, it was no one’s fault at all,” you said. “Remember what I said about a wet nose?”

“Yeah?” asked Dean.

“I was in the bathroom, getting ready for the day and Sam came over. We had coffee for a minute which is probably when he drugged me but then he had this really guilty look on his face. He kept trying to get me not to drink it too, steal it back. So he was over and while we were fighting over the coffee, I spilled some. So I went and put on a new shirt and tossed the other one in the laundry basket. That’s when I saw in the bathroom, the floor was all wet. The sink was leaking again. I called in Sam and he was trying to help fix it and he did a good job. I felt a little funny so I got off balance, slipped in the water and bam, hit my head against the tile floor. Sam tried to catch me. That’s why I had bruises on my arms. He left to get help and in my dumbass state, must have wandered into the bedroom and by then, you were getting home and I think Sam just freaked and left since you were there.”

“You slipped in some water,” said Dean.

“Yup,” you said.

“Why would Sammy say…” said Dean. “Cause the little idiot thinks it was his fault anyways. If it’s anyone’s fault-“

“It’s Bonnie’s. Not anyone else’s,” you said. “I’ll talk to Sam and remind him of what really happened.”

“I feel kind of bad about plotting his murder for like five minutes back at the police station now,” he said.

“I appreciate the thought, De,” you said, pulling the stuffed dog from your side. “Was Axel here?”

“No. He and Harper both wanted mommy to have their favorite toys to get better,” he said. You glanced at the bag on a table across the room. “Yes, Harper’s creepy ass doll is in there. I didn’t want to scar you further.”

“You’re a good husband,” you said, sinking back into the bed. “It is so weird to be able to remember everything again.”

“It’s so nice to have you back again,” he said, sitting up on the edge of the bed, pulling you to lean against him. “Although I have a feeling you would have fell for me all over again if we had to go that route.”

“In your dreams, Winchester,” you teased.

“I’m so happy you’re back,” he said.

“So am I, Dean. So am I.”

_______

[mascwhump]

Chapter 24 - Shattered

BTHB: Major Character Death

TW: death, guns, blood, broken whumpee, forced fighting, manhandling

Tag list: @whatwasmyprevioususername @milk-carton-whump @whumpasaurus101 @whatwhumpcomments @mnmlover2002 @ashintheairlikesnow @tears-and-lilies

-

Charlie slipped the silver knife into his pocket. His hands were sweaty and shook as he tore the note into tiny pieces. He flushed them, knowing that leaving the pieces in the trash would be a death sentence.

When Basil brought his dinner that evening, he thanked him with extra enthusiasm. Basil gave him a small smile as he exited the room. Charlie could hardly eat his dinner. He was nauseous from the anxiety, and sleep didn't come easily, either.

He awoke in the middle of the night to find Mallory leaning against the wall. Jumping slightly, Charlie put his arms over his head. Mallory ripped them away and dug his nails into his wrist.

"Up," he spat, “we’re going outside.” He lead Charlie out of the building and to the empty runway.

“What are we doing out here?” Charlie asked as he gazed up at the billions of stars. Mallory didn’t answer. He stood staring at his phone for a long while, until a light revealed an open door in the distance.

Charlie could already hear Adrian yelling. He was being dragged outside by two soldiers. He stopped his rant when he noticed Charlie. The soldiers held his arms behind his back, and Adrian strained against them.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?” Mallory said. Adrian scowled at him before attempting to rip his arms away unsuccessfully.

Charlie brushed his hand over his shorts to check for the knife. It was still in his pocket, and he breathed a silent sigh of relief. Mallory pulled a revolver from his side. He spun the barrel mindlessly as he spoke.

“You two are going to fight. That’s all,” he said.

“You’re insane,” Adrian growled. One of the soldiers twisted his arm.

“The winner gets a special surprise. Go on,” Mallory said, putting the gun away.

The soldiers shoved Adrian forward as they released their grip and stepped back. Adrian knew better than to attack them, but the look in his eye showed he was fighting the urge.

“I’m not fighting him. You can-“

“We spar all the time, right? It’s just like that,” Charlie said. Adrian looked at him as if he had three heads.

“I’m not fighting you, Charlie!”

Charlie knew they didn’t have a choice. He grappled Adrian, taking hold of his shirt.

“What are you doing?” Adrian questioned, grabbing Charlie’s arm.

“Just do it,” Charlie said before whispering, “please.”

Adrian took a deep breath before shoving him back and lifting his hands. They bounced on the balls of their feet as they circled the invisible ring, both hesitating to throw the first punch. Charlie got closer and swung his fist, missing by a few inches.

“I don’t want to fucking do this!” Adrian yelled.

“Just hit me, dammit!” Charlie said.

Adrian swung at him, landing a hit to his jaw. Charlie could tell he wasn’t using all of his strength, something he was silently grateful for. He ducked to avoid the next punch, and Adrian wrapped his arms around his torso, tackling him. Charlie’s head slammed against the pavement. He heard clattering metal, and looked over to see the knife had fallen out of his pocket.

He and Adrian looked to Mallory as they froze. Mallory approached slowly, then picked up the knife.

“Where’d you get this?” He questioned.

“I-I found it,” Charlie stammered. Mallory calmly put the knife in his pocket before revealing the revolver again.

“And you didn’t think to leave it alone, or give it to me?” He asked.

“I was going to, but I forgot it was there.”

“Right. Did I say stop? Continue.”

Adrian got off of Charlie and stood up.

“No,” he said.

“Very well,” Mallory replied. He lifted the gun and pointed it at Adrian. Before he could react, he pulled the trigger. Time began moving in slow motion for Charlie as Adrian fell to the ground. He got to his feet, glancing at Adrian before jumping at Mallory. He managed to get the gun out of his hands and pull back the hammer. He pulled the trigger without a second thought, only to be met with a disheartening click.

Mallory began to laugh as Charlie was pulled away from him by the soldiers. He couldn’t feel his legs, and only stayed upright due to the mens’ hold. He looked to Adrian again as blood began pooling on the tarmac. His vision blurred as he was dragged back inside the building and tossed into his room. He collapsed by the wall and curled up on his side. His mind had gone completely blank as his body numbed.

Charlie wasn’t sure how long he had been still. The door opened, and his eyes stayed glued to the wall straight ahead. He didn’t move as Mallory stepped in front of him. His gaze was broken only when Mallory lifted his head with his shoe. His eyes peeled away from the off-white wall to look up. They stared at each other for a moment before Mallory dropped his head and kneeled down.

“You’re as white as a ghost,” he said. Charlie moved his eyes to the floor. He remained unmoving as Mallory put his hand on his arm.

“Sorry about your friend, but it had to be done. You wouldn’t listen.”

Charlie briefly looked up at him again. Mallory sighed before leaving the room. He didn’t shut the door, and Charlie moved his head slightly to look toward it.

A few seconds later, Crow appeared in the doorway, and the door was shut behind him.

“Are you okay?” He asked. Charlie didn’t answer. He shut his eyes, and Crow sat down in front of him.

“What happened?” He asked softly. Charlie took in a shaky breath as he prepared his answer.

“Adrian,” he spoke, voice cracking, “He… he killed Adrian.”

He could hear Crow hold his breath. The room fell silent. Crow then slipped his arms around Charlie and pulled him up into a hug. Charlie fell against him as he let out a sob. His body shook as he released the emotion that had built up in the last hours. Crow held him tightly as he fought tears of his own.

Charlie was finally able to breath again after awhile. He was exhausted, and nuzzled his head into Crow’s shoulder as he rubbed his back.

“Here,” Crow whispered. He moved to sit against the wall and pulled Charlie into his lap. Charlie rested against his chest and shut his eyes, letting the exhaustion take him over.

-

Square: Major Character Death

Fandom: Original Characters