#A day late for his death day but I've been busy and exhausted this week

[karloff-the-uncanny]

Photos of when I visited Boris Karloff’s memorial plaque in Gildford crematorium, Surrey in July 2022.

It was a very modest memorial, just the same as every other one in the garden of remembrance. I liked that there is a yellow rose growing over his plaque, as Karloff used to grow roses and I like to think of his ghost tending to the bushes there.

Unfortunately I can never confirm whether or not his ashes were actually spread in the crematorium or not. I have heard conflicting stories.

I was a little disappointed that Boris wasn't there to greet me like this...

but maybe he was sick of the living by the time I visited! Our conversation was pleasant, but rather one-sided.

I hope to visit again soon.

[merrybloomwrites]

You Can Start a Family (Chapter 8)

Summary: Y/N enjoys the first two nights at Wembley before her grief makes a reappearance. Luckily she has people there to help her.

Previous Chapters: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven

CW: Mentions of past family death, panic attacks, nightmares

AN: I've had this chapter planned since the day of Wembley Night 2. I was driving home from work thinking that I wanted another angsty chapter with Mitch and Sarah comforting Y/N, but wasn't sure what the trigger would be. Then I saw a Tik Tok of a moment between Anne and Gemma being adorable at the concert and literally said "Yup, that'll do"

Also I randomly drop Brad in without introducing him so if you don't know about Brad he's Harry's personal trainer who has been at, like, every show for months now and seems to be personal security as well sometimes

Okay, on with the chapter!

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Monday is busy, starting with the early flight to London followed by a full day of prep for a week of shows at Wembley. Everyone’s exhausted by the time they get back to the hotel that night and you, Sarah, and Mitch climb into bed almost immediately. You talk quietly for a little while before falling asleep.

You all sleep in late the next morning, which is wonderful, but means that once you do get up you only have enough time to shower and eat quickly before you have to head over to the stadium.

It’s an incredibly exciting day, and the energy is even crazier than Slane had been. You meet Harry’s mother, Anne, and his sister, Gemma, who are both so lovely and welcoming to you.

Madi is the first opener for the evening, and she does a wonderful job. You hadn’t listened to much of her music before, but you’re mesmerized by her voice.

Once she’s done the band all goes backstage to get ready. You stay outside and watch Wet Leg’s set, and once Harry is on stage Brad comes to find you.

He invites you to hang with him for the night and you accept, walking through different parts of the crowd throughout the show. He’s seen it dozens of times by now and points out some small details you hadn’t noticed before.

It’s another fantastic concert experience and you are buzzing with energy when you meet Mitch and Sarah backstage. They quickly change and you all load up to head back to the hotel.

You’re finally able to engage in some post-show fun with Mitch and Sarah, and you all end the night completely satisfied.

The three of you spend time in the city the next morning, Sarah showing you some of her favorite places before you all grab a bite to eat and once again head to Wembley for Night 2. You explore the empty stadium, running through the seats and checking the view from all over.

Shortly before the gates open you head backstage and hang with the band. You watch Elin and Ariza’s set and can’t help but sing along to your favorite songs and smile at their wonderful stage presence.

You end up staying in an open area near the stage for the rest of the night and are joined by more people by the end of the show. It’s nearly over when you look to your side and see Harry’s whole family next to you. You watch as Anne wraps her arms around her daughter, pulling her in tight and gently running her hands up and down Gemma’s arms.

Tears immediately start to spring to your eyes. Grief is strange, and you thought you had a pretty good handle on it, but some days are worse than others and your emotions can be easily triggered.

Anniversaries are especially hard, and you’ve been so busy that you hadn’t even realized what the date was, but watching the mother daughter duo next to you reminded you that the next day would be the anniversary of the accident that killed your mother and sister.

You keep a hold on your emotions and walk backstage before the show ends. You just need a minute to yourself to breathe. By the time the concert is over and everyone else is flooding backstage, you’ve choked back your tears and put a smile on your face.

As soon as Mitch and Sarah see you, they know something is wrong, but don’t push you at that moment. They can tell that you don’t want to talk about whatever it is and respect that, but they keep a close eye, Sarah sticking next to you.

You end up between Mitch and Sarah in the last row of the van back to the hotel, and you look through social media to distract yourself during the ride. You’re scrolling through Tik Tok and see a video of the moment between Anne and Gemma that originally set you off, and you can’t believe how quickly it was posted and made its way onto your for you page.

You stare at the muted video, not realizing you’re watching it on a loop, as you’re lost in the thoughts of your family. Mitch and Sarah glance at your phone and see the video that’s playing. Even though you’re not in it, they know you were standing in that area and likely watched it happen in real time. They share a look over you and know they’re on the same page, that your mood definitely has something to do with you watching this interaction.

Once back at the hotel, you quickly get changed and burrow into bed. Mitch and Sarah, still in their outfits from the day, sit next to you. They’re quiet for a few minutes, but soon Sarah slowly pulls the covers off your face.

“What’s wrong love?” she asks, hoping you’ll let them in. You just stare at her for a bit before sitting up and taking a deep breath, deciding to tell them everything. You drop your eyes to look at where your fingers are picking at the sheets, and quietly say, “Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day my mom and sister died. And then Harry’s whole family was there supporting him and like, I’ll never have that. No matter what I accomplish, I won’t have my parents there. And Anne was so sweet with Gemma, and I remember moments like that with my mom and I’ll never have that with her again and I just, I miss them all so much-” Your words are cut off when the tears you’ve been holding back finally start to fall.

Mitch pulls you onto his lap, tucking you close to him and rocking you back and forth. Sarah’s hands are rubbing your back. They’re both quiet, not sure what to say to help you in that moment.

You start to think back to that day, the phone call from the police telling you what happened, your best friend driving you back home while you call and break the news to your aunts and uncles and family friends. You’re so lost in these memories that you don’t hear the knock on the hotel room door or notice the moment Sarah gets up to see who it is.

Mitch continues to comfort and hold you as Sarah cracks the door open.

“Hey, Harry,” she says quietly through the small opening. “What’s up?”

“Mitch borrowed my phone charger earlier and I can’t find my backup. Any chance you could grab it for me?”

“Yea of course, just give me a second.” Sarah walks back in and grabs Mitch’s bag, digging through and quickly finding the charger.

She walks back and reopens the door, handing it over. She wants to get back to you but takes a moment to politely say good night to Harry. In that time, you notice she’s missing, and start to panic. You’ve been so absorbed thinking about losing the people you care about most, that when you realize Sarah isn’t next to you your brain starts to think the worst.

You begin to say her name so quietly that Mitch can’t make out what you’re saying at first. Your cries of her name get louder, and you break free from Mitch’s hold, looking around the room for her in a blind panic. The layout of the room means that the door isn’t visible from the bed, and when you can’t immediately see her, your heart rate increases, and your panic starts to grow.

Sarah hears your shouts and closes the door in Harry’s face to run back to you. He’s left in the hallway, confused and concerned, but he understands that whatever is going on is a private moment and heads back to his room, hoping that you’re okay.

As soon as you see Sarah you run to her, launching yourself into her arms and wrapping your limbs around her. She stands there holding you, swaying side to side.

“I thought you were gone,” you cry.

“I’m here, baby, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” she says.

“You can’t know that! Bad things happen. All the time. And people die. I can’t- I can’t do that again. You can’t die!” Mitch moves to wrap his arms tight around you and Sarah and they feel their hearts breaking at your pain.

“You’re right,” Mitch says quietly. “We can’t promise that nothing will happen. But we’ll always do everything we can to keep safe, and healthy, and be by your side as long as possible.”

You lift up your head and look at him, eyes swimming with more tears, and you reach out your arms to him. Sarah passes you over to Mitch and you once again wrap your legs and arms around him so he can hold you close. He begins to sway as Sarah had been, hoping the gentle motion would help to soothe you as it would a little one. After a few minutes of this movement mixed with quiet reassurances you finally start to calm down a little. You’re still upset but you’re no longer panicking.

Sarah brings over tissues and wipes away your tears and snot, her gentle touches so full of care and compassion that you almost begin to cry again. When that doesn’t happen you figure you’ve dried yourself out and all that’s left are tiny sniffles.

Mitch continues rocking you, singing softly, and your eyes grow heavy. Eventually you fall asleep, and he transfers you to the bed. He continues to hold you, only letting go once Sarah has finished changing and lays on your other side, immediately pulling you close to her. Mitch rushes through getting ready and quickly lays back down after checking the door is locked and flipping the lights off.

It's unfortunately a restless night, and you find yourself woken by nightmares more than once. The first is one you’ve had numerous times in the past, where you watch the accident that killed your mom and sister. It’s not a real memory, since you obviously weren’t there, but between the medical reports and everything you learned during the trial of the driver that killed them, you had pieced together enough of what happened to build a terrifying mental picture of the event.

You have two more bad dreams that you can’t quite follow. Nothing makes sense but they’re somehow ominous and leave you with a sense of dread.

Shortly before 9 A.M. you have another nightmare, this one as clear as the first. It’s almost exactly the same as the first, but instead of your mother and sister in the car, it’s Mitch and Sarah. You again wake up completely paralyzed, never one to move around or make noise in your sleep, even during terrible dreams. You’ve managed not to wake the other two up so far, and you’re happy that you haven’t disturbed their sleep, but this time you need to.

Even though they’re both next to you in bed and you can see them breathing, you need to make sure they’re okay. You’re trying to hold back another impending panic attack, but you know you won’t be able to unless Mitch and Sarah reassure you that you’re all safe.

You lay a hand on each of their arms, gently shaking them. You try to say their names, but your breaths are already coming in gasps, and you can’t get the words out. It only takes a few seconds for them to wake up and immediately be on alert, trying to figure out what happened.

“Love, what is it, can you talk to me?” Sarah asks. You shake your head no, still not able to speak.

“Okay, that’s okay, let’s just breathe, alright? Here,” she lifts your hand and places it on her chest. “Just follow my breaths, okay?” You try to do so. It takes some time, but finally you calm down. You slump against her, almost more exhausted now than when you went to sleep the night before.

Sarah continues to hold you, singing quietly as she had noticed Mitch’s singing the previous night had helped you. You suddenly say, “It was a nightmare.”

“What was that baby?” she asks, as you had been mumbling into you shoulder.

You lift up your head and meet her eyes and say more clearly, “I had a nightmare. Actually, I had a few last night. I have a recurring one about the accident but this time it was you guys who were killed. It was so vivid; I feel like I lost you both even though you’re right here with me.”

“We are here, love. We’re together, and we’re safe.”

“We’re safe. You’re both safe, and here with me,” you repeat, hoping the message gets through to your brain.

“Exactly. We’re in bed, in a hotel, in London,” Mitch adds, letting you hear his voice and helping to ground you to your current reality, not the reality of your nightmare.

You nod to show you understand, that you know where you are. You're much calmer now and you all lapse into a comfortable silence. After awhile your stomach starts to growl.

“I’m going to run downstairs and grab some breakfast to bring back here, is that ok with everyone?” Mitch asks. You nod, understanding that he’s really asking if you’ll be alright if he leaves the room or if you’ll panic again. You know you’ll be fine now. You’re feeling more centered than you have in the past 12 hours, all due to the ways they’ve found to comfort you and remind you of what’s real and what isn’t.

He leaves and you decide to take a shower. Sarah sits in the bathroom, telling you stories about growing up in England. Even though you feel better now, you’re still grateful for her company. Focusing on her voice means your mind doesn’t have a chance to wander to darker thoughts.

Meanwhile Mitch is in the lobby where he bumps into Harry. After greeting each other Harry can’t hold back any longer and asks, “Is Y/N okay? She seemed really upset last night when I came to grab my charger.”

Mitch takes a deep breath, then takes a sip of his coffee, buying time to decide how much to share. “She’s just been through a lot. She’s lost a lot of people and sometimes the grief hits her.” He figures that’s a safe answer, explaining enough without giving too many personal details.

Harry nods and then says, “I know you and Sarah have to rehearse this afternoon for tomorrow's show, I could keep Y/N company if she wants.”

“I’ll ask her, not sure what she’ll be up for today.”

“Yea, of course, whatever she wants is fine with me.”

“Thanks man. I’ll talk to her and let you know.”

“Okay, sounds good. I’ll see you later then.” With that Harry puts on his headphones and heads out for a run, and Mitch loads up a tray with food to bring back to his girls.

You’ve finished showering by the time Mitch gets back and the three of you dig into your breakfast.

“So, I saw Harry while I was down there.”

“Oh?” Sarah asks. “What was he up to?”

“Getting ready to go for a run I guess. He was asking about Y/N. I didn’t realize it was him at the door last night.”

“Yea he stopped by for a second-” Sarah cuts herself off. “Oh my gosh, I totally slammed the door in his face. I didn’t even realize I did that, I just needed to get back to Y/N.”

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t think he’s upset about that. He was just concerned about Y/N.”

“What did you tell him?” You ask. You can’t imagine the scene he witnessed last night. You don’t exactly remember everything, but you know you were crying and panicking so it must have been a lot to see.

“I just mentioned that you’d lost people in the past and the grief hit you last night. I hope that’s okay.”

“Yea, that’s fine, I don’t mind him knowing.”

“He also invited you to hang out with him today while Sarah and I are rehearsing. I wasn’t sure what you’d be up for, so I said we’d get back to him. If you want to come with us or stay here that’s fine too.”

“No, I think a distraction is probably best for me today. Hanging out with Harry could be fun.”

“Okay, I’ll let him know.”

The rest of the morning passes with lighter conversation, and by early afternoon you’re all heading out. After making sure you’re set with Harry, Mitch and Sarah head out.

It’s awkward for a moment, as you haven’t spent any one-on-one time with Harry before, and you’re somewhat relieved when Brad walks over and you realize he’ll be joining you two as security.

Harry leads you to some quieter areas of the city, where he somehow goes unnoticed. You’re fascinated by everything he shows you and love getting to learn the history. By mid-afternoon everyone is starting to feel a bit hungry, so you grab a bite to eat and go to a nearby park. You and Harry sit beneath one of the trees while Brad goes to a bench nearby. He’s close enough to keep an eye on everything but far enough to not hear any conversation.

“So uhm, Mitch kind of told me what’s going on, but I just wanted to ask, are you alright? You just- you seemed really upset last night.”

“Yea honestly last night was a bit rough. But I’m okay. I think he kept his explanation pretty vague right?”

“Just that you’d lost some people.”

“That’s kind of an understatement. Two of my grandparents passed away when I was young. Then my dad died when I was in high school, my mom and my sister were killed in an accident when I was in college, and my other grandparents died a bit after that. And today is the anniversary of my mom and sister dying so it kind of set me off.”

You’re both silent for a moment before you say, “Sorry, that was kind of a lot. Sometimes it’s just easier to throw all the information out there at once.”

“No, don’t apologize I’m just. Y/N, I had no idea. I’m so sorry you went through all of that.”

“Things kind of sucked for a while. Years really. But honestly, I’m doing much better now. I have Mitch and Sarah, and I’m close with the family I nanny for. Some days are just harder than others. Sometimes a lot harder.”

“You’ve got me now too, alright? Anything you need, I’m here for you.”

You smile at him, quietly thanking him before you both turn back to your food. It’s a beautiful afternoon and though your day started off pretty awful, the people around you had turned it around completely.

If you had been home, you probably would’ve been wallowing, unable to get out of bed. That’s how these days normally went. But instead, you’re walking through the quiet outskirts of London with Harry Styles, smiling, and sharing happy stories.

After a couple more stops you make your way back to the hotel. Harry walks you to the room and you find that Mitch and Sarah had gotten back shortly before you.

They invite Harry in and the four of you hang out for a while. You order food in and watch a couple of movies. It was easy to tell that everyone was pretty drained and just wanted to relax.

At one point the movie becomes background noise after you convinced everyone to share old tour stories. You’re especially interested in Live on Tour since you hadn’t been able to go to any of those shows.

They get lost in the memories, excitedly talking over each other every time they remember something else that had happened. Everyone has made themselves very comfortable at this point, Mitch and Harry on the couch while you and Sarah are on the bed. As you listen to the stories you subconsciously shift closer to her a little at a time until you’re completely resting against her.

Your previous sleepless night catches up to you, and you find it hard to keep your eyes open. Sarah notices and quietly asks, “Would you like us to wrap up here so you can sleep?”

 “No,” you reply. “I like hearing everyone. It’s comforting. I know I’m not alone.”

“Okay, love.” She holds you close, running her fingers soothingly through your hair, and you fall asleep listening to the gentle conversation around you.

It’s not much later that Harry decides to head back to his room for the night. While he’s getting ready for bed he reflects on the day. He thought that spending more time with you would answer the questions he had about your relationship with Mitch and Sarah, but he’s only more lost. He decides that if there’s something going on then the group will share when they’re ready.

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AN: Thanks you so much for reading! If you have any thoughts (good, bad, you found a typo) let me know!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @theekyliepage @numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry @ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess @houseofdilfs @shaquille-0atmeal-1 @kissitnhekitchen

[zoeykallus]

i ... i dont know if you're still taking asks... and i am anxious even sending this but .... I adore you and your writing and I dont really know how this works, but if you ARE still taking asks (and this is with NO time limit, i know you're busy and mourning and i am in no hurry and dont want to cause undue stress) i would love some Rex/gn reader comfort. stuff has been *hard* lately and i could use some cheering up.

can you tell i'm a bit nervous about asking? ^.^

Yes, I can tell you are nervous about asking, and I'm so sorry I've been on the edge so much lately that peeps have a hard time sending requests 😅 Some Rex x gn Reader comfort fluff? Coming right up...

Rex x GN!Reader One-Shot - I Knew I'd Find You Here

Comfort/Fluff

__________

You've had a rough week and a rough day today. You've been under a lot of stress lately and Rex has been traveling a lot, you've seen each other very rarely in the last few weeks. You've retreated with some reading material and your music player to the small roof terrace that belongs to your apartment building. At this time of day, there's nothing going on up here, and you have the place all to yourself, just right for you, even if you'd rather have Rex with you.

Your favorite songs are playing through your headphones, and you're drifting between reading and daydreaming, finally feeling some of the week's stress fall away from you, when a strong hand, gently but firmly, grabs your shoulder and scares you half to death.

"Hey, love, are you deaf?"

Your heart is still racing from that little scare as you hastily pull off your headphones and look up in surprise at Rex's face. He smiles at you, his helmet tucked under his right arm, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Then a grin spreads across your face. It's so good to see Rex. You stand up and fall around his neck.

Rex laughs softly, "I'm glad to see you too. I knew I'd find you here."

With a relaxed sigh, you lean into his embrace and close your eyes for a moment, just enjoying his closeness.

"I've been trying to reach you," he tells you, "but I guess you didn't hear your com."

"Sorry," you say meekly, kissing his chin.

Rex smirks and leans his forehead tenderly against yours with a hum.

"I missed you," he confesses softly in his deep voice.

" I missed you too."

He sits down with you on the bench under the cherry blossom tree where you also sat before, puts down his helmet and puts an arm around you.

After a moment of silence, Rex says carefully, "I talked to Cody. He says you ran into him and that you seemed tense. You want to tell me what that's all about?"

You feel caught, and a little guilty, too. Rex has more than enough of his own to worry about, you don't want him worrying about you on top of it.

"It's been a rough week," you admit, "exhausting and frustrating."

He pulls you a little closer to him and sighs softly.

"Sorry to hear that"

You smile and reach for his free hand, playing with his gloved fingers. It's a soft, tender moment. There are no words for how much you missed being with him like this, every second he's not been with you.

"That I get to see you so rarely lately bothers me much more, though," you say softly.

"Me too," Rex sighs, kissing your temple, "Me too."

You lean deeper into his embrace, resting your legs over his, your face close to his neck, and take a deep breath. It is good to feel him, to smell him. You hear him laugh softly, then he asks, "Are you sniffing me again?"

"Maybe," you say, smirking, your face still close to his neck.

"I come with good news, though".

You sat back up straighter to face him, your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"Let's hear it!"

Rex smirks and says, "I'm off duty for four days next week."

You beam happily at him.

"Please tell me we can spend those four days together."

Rex laughs and says, "Yes, we can, and we will."

You sigh in relief and lean back into him. It's a nice feeling knowing you'll have more time with him soon.

"I can't wait," you say dreamily.

"I feel the same way. I already have something planned too, I hope you don't mind. I thought we'd book a hotel room on Naboo and visit that little restaurant you liked so much, among other things."

The thought is delightful, but a worry plagues you, "Rex, we can't afford that."

Undeterred, Rex says good-humoredly, "I called in a favor from General Skywalker and Senator Amidala. The hotel room won't cost us anything, and we already have a reservation at the restaurant"

Again you sit up to look at him.

"A favor? Oh, don't tell me, I already know, the secret you're keeping for them," you say with a conspiratorial smile.

Rex nods with a lopsided smile. Again, you lean into him and say, "I can't wait."

You think about the beautiful little restaurant in the countryside, the beautiful architecture on Naboo. Time alone with Rex, catching up on so much. That would be a wonderful little, vacation.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

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[fangirlandtheories]

Awww the mutual jealousy, so precious! They love each other so much. 🧀 Some cheeses, to start your weekend off,hope its a good one:

Steve takes up crocheting as something to do with his hands when he feels anxious. In addition to adding to his own sweater collection, when he deems his work good enough, he starts making various things for others. He incorporates their interests, and personal details,into his work sometimes. Examples: he made Eddie a scarf with skulls on it,for Robin he made a beanie hat with little robins, and a sweater for Lucas with his jersey number. If he's not there with them at least he's still protecting them from the cold.

During a gathering Steve gets hurt doing something extremely mundane (maybe he trips or he bangs his head in the corner of a cabinet door?) and has a full breakdown that he hasn't ever allowed himself to. He just can't stop the hiccuping sobs and, embarrassed, he tries to hide away only to be stopped and held by Robin and Eddie.

My cheesy little darling, you've inspired me. This isn't my best work by any means, it was written in a haze tbh as I've been running on less than fumes all week, BUT this is just for you my love. Thank you for sending me so many sweet ideas and messages, taking time out of your day to shower me with love.

-.-.-

His mother had always loved those cabinets. Their dark stain with the little golden handles that matched the faucet. He remembered seeing her cleaning them obsessively as a child, crying while rubbing polish onto the handles just to see them shine. She never put that much effort into him, no one did.

It started over something so stupid, so small. He had barely knocked his forehead, especially in comparison to the previous assaults his brain had survived, there was a little cut from the corner that was hiding in the creases of his brows. It was nothing that a bandaid wouldn’t fix. Under the surface was a much different problem. 

He could barely hear the hushed voices around him, the placating hands of Eddie placed on his knees while he drew in practiced breaths. Nancy was on the phone with someone, face drawn in a sort of faux calm despite her eyes giving her away. Even Argyle seemed unnerved, eyes glued to the floor as he twisted and untwisted the cap of a bottle of water. Robin though, she was the kicker.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay…” She recited the mantra over and over while rocking him back and forth, he was held close to her chest, the way a mother cradles an upset child. Lying on the floor beside where his bruised and bloody knuckles were resting, was the door to his mother’s beloved cabinets.

-.-.-

“As I told you before ma’am, you can’t rent anything new if you have late fees remaining on your account. If you pay the $3.65 I can check you out, otherwise there’s nothing I can do.”  Steve winced from behind the counter. His head was killing him and he still had about 4 hours until his shift was over.

“Thanks for nothing, asshole.” The woman huffed before tossing the movie on the counter. “You’ve lost my business.”

“Sorry to hear that, have a good day.” He waved as she marched out of the store. Sighing, he put his head in his hands, exhausted. Every customer seemed to have a bee in their bonnet and his trusty sidekick had the day off. He’d spent the majority of the day squinting at the small computer screen, organizing shelves, and stacking boxes of candy. Essentially: busy work.

He could feel a slight tremor in his hands, a clear sign of too much caffeine to not enough food. He’d been sleeping a little less lately, constantly on edge and overthinking every emotion the kids seem to feel. He didn’t like to speak poorly of the dead, but he was a little bitter about the death of Hopper. He wasn’t jealous, per say, he was just very tired. Hopper seemed to have constant control, an answer to everything, and Steve felt like a poor substitute. He was spread too thin, between the missing support of Joyce and Jim, having to play both roles when necessary. The kids called him Mom for a reason.

It wasn’t until he pulled into his driveway that he realized he was driving home. It took another minute to process the cars parked on the street. He’d forgotten that he’d planned a ‘teenager’ night. He wasn’t a teenager, not anymore, technically Eddie wasn’t either. Nancy and Robin were, however, as were Jonathan and Argyle. Majority seemed to rule. He had given a key to Robin, trusting her with more than his life, so he knew they were all inside, likely laughing and telling stories, passing blunts and sipping beers. He let his head fall against the steering wheel, letting out a low whine as he cursed the past Steve who had invited everyone.

Showtime.

His mask was composed of nothing more than 28 teeth. A lazy smile that seemed to put everyone off his trail. He remembered learning about how different animals indicate that they’re venomous through color. Bright vibrant oranges and reds that drew in the eye but flashed as a warning to not get too close.

-.-.-

It had happened so quickly, the cabinet opened by Eddie in search of a snack. Steve happened to be passing at the wrong time, Eddie facing the wrong way, laughing at something Argyle had said. The cabinet, his mother’s favorite, had smacked Steve directly in the face, the corner catching on his forehead. 

It was one of those rare occasions when life felt so overwhelming, like it was throwing everything it had, that something as small as a loose thread on a sweater could throw someone into a panic. Like there were five too many straws on the camel’s back. 

Eddie’s eyes could only widen in shock as Steve swung at the cabinet, fists shaking, breaths gasping, until he managed to rip it off it’s hinges. He had made a low, animal-like growl as his eyes turned glassy. Everything moved around him as Nancy called Joyce and Robin pulled him into an embrace. Steve had been scratching at his knees as tears slipped down his cheeks, so Eddie put his hands on them to stop him from hurting himself. Robin met his eyes from behind Steve’s back, panic and uncertainty clear, and he knew he would be sitting there all night. 

“That’s it Sunshine, deep breaths.” Eddie took deep breaths with him, ignoring the tense argument going on behind him. Nancy and Jonathan were whispering about whether or not to drive over to the Byers family home. The idea was to get Jim, he’d know what to do, but he hadn’t answered the phone.

“Get out.” Robin’s voice was sharp as her head snapped to them. “You guys arguing isn’t fucking helping.” Nancy’s scowl softened as she took a hold of Jonathan’s arm, leading him out of the room, Argyle trailing behind them. “Steve, it would be really helpful to me if you could show me that you can hear us.”

“I can hear you.” His voice was a gentle whisper, a wheeze at most. His cheeks were red with embarrassment, his gaze not meeting either set of eyes. His shoulders were hitching as little sobs escaped his throat. “I-I don’t-”

“It’s okay.” Eddie grabbed his hands, rubbing the back of his hands with  his thumbs. “You just got a little upset, Pretty Boy, nothing to be ashamed of, happens to all of us.”

“No no no I’m sorry, Jesus fuck-” His hands pulled away from Eddie’s as he pressed them to his warm cheeks. “This is so stupid.”

“Hey, none of that.” Robin swatted at him gently. “Do you want to maybe walk us through it?”

“I don’t even know why…” He gasped, shivering gently. “It’s just been a long… few years I guess, but this week has been really bad. I just got overwhelmed, I guess.”

“That’s okay Sugar.” Eddie crooned, wiping a stray hair out of Steve's face. “You can ask the kids, sometimes I get real quiet during our campaigns and then 10 minutes later I come back to find Wayne shaking my shoulder and the kids looking at me like I just fucking keeled over in front of them. I can’t control it, neither can you.”

“Oh God the kids.” Steve sat forward suddenly.

“Hey they’re okay.” Robin rubbed a hand on his back. “They’re at home, probably getting ready for bed, eating dessert, and cramming for a history test most likely.”

“Yeah but…” Steve choked on a sob. “What if this happens again when I’m with them? What if one of them gets hurt?”

“Then they’ll be there for you like they are for Eddie.” She pressed a chaste kiss to his shoulder. “You worry more about them than you do yourself.”

“I have to!” Steve shot up suddenly, grasping at the counter. Eddie shot a look at Robin before slowly standing next to him. “I don’t have a fucking choice, okay?”

“Steve-’

“No, don't tell me it’s okay.” Steve whipped around to face them, eyes filled with tears. “It’s not fucking fair because I had to be the one in charge, alright? Nancy was doing shit with Jonathan and Hopper was off with Joyce, so who was left to make sure everyone else was okay? Me. Then Hopper dies and Joyce moves away, no other adults know about this, so sue me if I had to take on a parental role, no one else was there to. I had to be the grown up, but no one ever gave a shit about the fact that I was only 17. Those kids are 15, they’re too young to be dealing with this on their own. I’m so goddamn tired and I don’t… I don’t know what to do.” He cut himself off with a wet sigh, Robin wrapping her arms around him tightly.

“That’s a lot to carry around, Stevie.” Eddie cradled Steve’s chin in his hand. “If you start feeling like that again, anytime and anywhere, you call me, okay?”

“I don’t want to just unload all of this onto you guys, that’s not your job, okay?” Steve turned his head away.

“No, it’s not okay.” Robin pouted. “ Not at all. You’re not ‘unloading’ you’re working through trauma. That’s nearly impossible to do alone. Like it or not, we’re with you. We’re a team right? You’re not the only adult, not anymore.”

“I don’t want you guys to think I can’t handle this, like I’m weak or something.” Eddie wiped the tears off his cheek.

“Steve, I need you to hear this, okay?” Eddie peered deeply into his hazel eyes. “We love you. The way you are. Even if you think you’re weak, we’d love you. We will never look down on you like that, okay?”

“Okay…” Steve gave into the shaky breaths, his rough cries muffled by the shoulders of Eddie while Robin stroked a hand through his hair.

To hell with his mother’s favorite cabinets.

[jays-rus]

Can you do one where the reader is from earth and Kylo is very protective of her? Back home, mountain climbing became part of her life and she informs him that she’s going to make a summit attempt on Everest? He was supportive at first, but after learning more about the mountain, the basics of it, he quickly becomes judgmental about it and tries talking her out of it, but changed his mind when she made it to the top and makes it back safely? Thanks!

Hey! Sorry for late response. I e been really busy!

Here's your request!

The summit and back

Summary: Y/N, an avid mountain climber from Earth, plans to summit Mount Everest. Initially supportive, Kylo Ren grows anxious after learning about the mountain's dangers and tries to dissuade her. Despite his concerns, Y/N proceeds with her climb, successfully reaching the summit and returning safely. Her achievement earns Kylo's respect, and he admires her courage and determination.

Ever since she was a child, mountain climbing had been an integral part of Y/N's life. The towering peaks, the crisp air, the sheer thrill of conquering nature's giants—it was a passion that had followed her from Earth to the galaxy far, far away. And now, after years of smaller climbs and rigorous training, she had set her sights on the ultimate challenge: summiting Mount Everest.

Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, was supportive of her endeavors. At least, at first. He watched as she meticulously planned her expedition, studied weather patterns, and trained her body to endure the extreme conditions.

One evening, Y/N sat beside him, excitement bubbling over. "I'm going to make the summit attempt next month," she announced, her eyes gleaming with determination.

Kylo Ren, dressed in his usual dark attire, nodded thoughtfully. "It's important to you," he acknowledged, his deep voice softening as he looked at her. "I understand that."

However, as the days passed, Kylo's curiosity about this Everest began to grow. He delved into the history, the statistics, the dangers of the climb. He learned about the unforgiving cold, the deadly altitudes, and the numerous lives the mountain had claimed. He read about the 'Death Zone,' the perilous Khumbu Icefall, and the unpredictable avalanches.

One evening, as Y/N was packing her gear, Kylo approached her, a frown creasing his forehead. "Y/N, I've been doing some reading about Everest," he began, his tone cautious. "It's incredibly dangerous. People die up there every year. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Y/N paused, meeting his intense gaze. "I know the risks, Kylo. But this is my dream. I've trained for this, and I'm prepared."

"But the mountain... it's not just a challenge. It's a death trap," he argued, his voice growing more urgent. "I can't lose you to this. You're important to me."

She sighed, placing a hand on his arm. "I understand your concern. But this is something I need to do. For myself. To prove that I can."

Reluctantly, Kylo nodded, but his worry did not abate. He continued to fret as her departure date neared, his protective instincts battling against his desire to support her.

The day she left for Nepal, Kylo's anxiety was palpable. "Promise me you'll be careful," he said, his hands gripping hers tightly.

"I promise," she assured him, her voice steady.

Days turned into weeks, and Kylo found himself constantly checking for updates. He hardly slept, his thoughts consumed by the image of Y/N facing the deadly climb. When the news finally came that she had reached the summit, his relief was overwhelming, but it was short-lived. She still had to make it back down safely.

The wait was agonizing, but at last, he received word that she had descended successfully. Exhausted but triumphant, Y/N returned to him, her face sunburnt and her body worn, but her spirit unbroken.

Kylo met her at the spaceport, his normally stoic expression softening as he enveloped her in a tight embrace. "You did it," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and relief.

"I did," she replied, leaning into him. "Thank you for believing in me."

"I was scared," he admitted, his protective nature surfacing. "But I'm proud of you. You faced the impossible and came back stronger."

Y/N smiled, looking up at him. "I had to. And now, I have a new story to tell."

As they walked away from the spaceport, Kylo's arm around her, he couldn't help but feel a deep respect for her courage and determination. She had shown him that while the galaxy was vast and filled with unknowns, the human spirit was capable of conquering even the greatest of challenges.

[maybebecomingms]

a decade of repression

February 18, 2024

Lately I've been fixated on this memory of silently sobbing in the dark surrounded by my ex husband and his family. I didn't make a sound so as not to wake anyone up, and I did my best to breathe through the full bodily contractions so I didn't move and cause him to stir inches away from me.

It was February 14, 2020, and everyone had turned in for the night after his brother and his new wife eloped earlier that day at the courthouse. I have no clue why we split a room with his parents and grandmother - we didn't need to save money that badly to completely forego privacy. Anyway, I was never comfortable at a single family gathering of theirs, and I'm sure I was exhausted from another day of heavy masking. I'm sure I was drunk, too. It was the only way to cope.

But mostly I was feeling sad as the day drew nearer to The Dark Day, and I didn't have any outlet. Nobody cared. Now was not the time. That was a long time ago - everyone else has moved on.

I haven't talked much about my dad's death here - after all, that's not why I made this blog. But you can't separate me from this thing that has happened - it's a part of me.

The morning of February 16, 2014 started normally. We made our way to church and stopped for sandwiches after. While in line waiting for them, my ex showed me a text on his phone from my mother: "Please come here when you can." We'd had our phones on silent during the service, and I opened mine to find several missed calls and texts, too. I tried to call back and find out what was going on, but no one would come out and say it - it's not a thing to tell someone over the phone. I knew right away my dad had passed. None of the calls or texts were from him. Seeing the county sheriff squad in the driveway upon arrival confirmed it for me.

The following week was hazy as we wrote an obituary and planned a funeral for someone whose cell phone was still on and ringing, for someone who was feeling under the weather but still went to work the other day.

My world just sort of stopped. But life goes on, and mine did, in a slow and disjointed kind of way. I didn't really talk about it in any sort of meaningful way with anyone. Many church friends went *poof* (which is super common if you ask any evangelical who goes through something difficult). And I couldn't ask my family to accommodate my feelings. They were going through it, too, and my job was always to take care of everyone else. Even now - that's not an option. My ex tried to understand and empathize, but he simply couldn't, and eventually I could tell he just wanted me to "get over it." A few older adults with some perspective tried to get through to me, but I wasn't in a place to receive it. I even went to grief counseling two years later, but my therapist was so busy trying to convince me that having a baby would fix my grieving that I didn't really get to work through said grief.

It was very isolating. Sure, I knew of people who had lost parents to prolonged illness or an accident. I didn't bother them, though - I didn't want to stir anything up, and I wasn't sure they'd get it. My dad was sick with pneumonia, yes, but nobody thought he'd die when he did. He died of natural causes, in his sleep, like you might expect to happen to someone decades over. He had chronic illnesses society nonchalantly calls "lifestyle diseases" and yes, a series of poor lifestyle choices caught up with him. Those poor choices impacted me for most of my life, too. How do you even explain that to someone?

My partner also lost his dad when he was in his late 20s, and both of our dads were 58 when they passed. It's not my story to tell and it wasn't an identical situation, but it was weirdly similar in a lot of ways. I've always thought no one could ever possibly begin to understand this thing and the complicated dynamics surrounding it, but if anyone does, it's him.

We didn't exactly talk about it at great length this weekend, but we did go visit. Mid-February in northern Minnesota typically would NOT be the time to go to the cemetery, but this winter is anything but typical. It was actually the first time I've ever gone there and found the grave by myself. I wasn't even sure if I'd be able to do it!

But I did, and it felt like the right thing to do after a decade of holding back at all costs.

[pocketramblr]

So, I've been thinking about the dozi apple au lately and wanted to share some of those thoughts. Like, I know Ojiro is The Muse TM but I've just found this fic where Jiro got OFA and it somehow results in her getting some minor brainwashing skills out of it (it's called 'Shadows: The Horror Movie Heroes' if anyone's curious) and now I really want her nvolved in the au in some way. Besides that, I distinctly remember some sort of martials arts' club existance being mentioned as part of UA even if it's yet another thing that never got explored, so maybe that's what he and the battle-ready Luna Lovegood were busy with before the dead muse debacle. Also this vid youtube*com/watch?v=eumMMo6TGsM really changed my views on Tokoyami's character and made me think he may have started an "Occult" Club that's actually just the support group for anyone exposed to Midorya and so it's doors are open even to theorist like Shouto. And lastly, since we apparently decided that the apple is gonna have Damiano David vibes I think "THE LONELIEST" by Måneskin should be like the theme song for whenever the aftereffects of his traumatizing death get explored. Dunno why I suddenly got all these thoughts from reading awesome yet unrealted fics but here we are. Have a great day and thank you for putting up with us randos

It'd be funny if Izuku, on realizing Ojiro has the eidelon now, is like "ok I can tell you all the myth side of things and I can try to help you train but honestly I don't think my analysis will get you as far as someone with actual experience in things like this..." to which Ojiro is trying to figure out who could possibly have experience with getting a god spirit shoved in them, and Izuku corrects him by saying it's about using the powers, and remembering how Jiro helped him practice dancing for the cultural festival.... Maybe she could help out here too...

The next week, Jiro is out of it during class. Tokoyami asks what's wrong and she just looks at him, exhausted stare, and says he and his club were right about everything before following Izuku and Ojiro out of the room. She explains nothing.

[masterwords]

To Hell With the Salt

Summary: After a long, hard day, Penelope invites Hotch to stay for veggie omelets and surprises him with tequila (and maybe a hangover the following morning). Keeping secrets is a lot harder when tequila is involved. (Coda to 11x09 - Internal Affairs)

Warnings: alcohol (lots of it) & food, mention of blood/death (canon - based on episode) and Mayhem explosion/PTSD

Pairings: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 3.5k

Read On AO3: To Hell With the Salt

Notes: This is for Hotch Appreciation Week Day 1 - Alternate Scene or Episode Ending, also coinciding with Comfortember Day 1 - Discovery. Inspired by an idea loaned to me by @kirstenseas AGES ago and I've finally managed to produce something viable with it.

Find the rest here: Hotch Appreciation Week, Comfortember 2021

Tag List: @84hotpockets, @crimefiqhters, @bau-gremlin, @genevievedarcygranger, @mayasreadingnook, @arsonhotchner, @scuttling, @hotchappreciationweek

**

Jalapeños.

Nothing wild, nothing out there. Just a simple offer of omelets with jalapeño in the middle of the night. She looked so hopeful, his weary heart couldn't turn her down. The day had been so long and so exhausting, maybe they both needed a win.

Tequila was where it went off the rails.

"Derek has a bottle hidden in his office somewhere..."

"You really shouldn't tell me things like that," he scolded, but it was gentle and laced with a smile, the kind that said he was being serious but he wasn't upset - they really needed to share less with him when it came to breaking rules, and maybe that was his fault, blurring those lines in more ways than most of them knew. Tonight wasn't going to help if tequila was involved. She just nodded her understanding and he still accepted her offer of a night cap. Already one glass of scotch in after his day spent rubbing elbows with people he'd rather not associate with regularly, at least not outside of professional settings, so really why not continue? At least he liked Penelope, it was already a drastic improvement.

Before he could change his mind (and she could see it in his eyes, he was already getting there the more he sobered up from his previous endeavor) Penelope scampered down the hall to Derek's office, hardly having waited for the entire answer to leave his lips. Once he began, once she knew where his answer was going, she was gone.

No time to lose. She kicked off her heels halfway there so she could go faster and in comfort, shuffling barefoot down the hallway like a child. She returned promptly, heels back on, with a full bottle of tequila sloshing around in her arms and a triumphant grin on her face, a welcome sight after the tears that still glistened on her cheeks. He glanced at his watch, eyeing the time and fired off a reluctant text to Jessica - he was going to commit, no backing out now. She was far too gracious, quickly telling him to stay out as late as he wanted and that she wouldn't wait up. She almost seemed eager as she followed it up with something sweet before he could type out a response. You deserve to have fun, Aaron, like she knew he was already second guessing his decision and trying to find an excuse to head home. She wasn't far off.

"The team are on their way," she hummed as she busied herself with the foil on the unopened bottle. "They should be back in a couple of hours." A pang of guilt settled in his belly when he realized what that meant - mountains of paperwork and days of explanations to everyone who had questions, the take down had been messy and Agents were in danger. He would have a lot of talking to do. That was the job, and it was only the start. Worse than any of that, he had to worry over whether Derek was hurt, what he'd seen, what new nightmares might keep them up at night. Endless concerns, and then there would be the questions from Derek about his day, many he wouldn't be able to answer. Arguments and hurt feelings.

Not tonight.

Penelope hummed as she cooked, using the jalapeño he'd chopped with care, sure not to let a single mince go to waste. Spice hung in the air, ravaged his sinuses and he rubbed his tired eyes.

“Here you go, sir,” she said, surprising him as he worried over the conversation he was going to need to have, the ramifications of this day, each time he sorted and filed one piece another took its place. A coffee mug appeared before him, hand outstretched and he accepted it with a soft thanks. “It's not exactly a margarita, but it's all I have. Sprite with a splash of lime juice and tequila...I don't think it'll age well, we should probably drink them fast. Are you okay, sir?” Staring into the mug, he was more than a little uneasy and trying to figure out when he'd last had tequila. There was a brief flash, sand and waves crashing warm against his ankles, a stack of shot glasses and a gallon of Cuervo on a breakfast bar beside lime wedges and hot sauces...a sunburn and Derek. Mexico, that was the last time he'd had tequila. He lifted his mug and nodded, ignoring her question unintentionally and offering her a cheers in its place.

“To friendship,” he whispered, eyes twinkling in the low light, the bright tears catching the lamp's glow. His suit felt a little tight already, too warm, and there was a heavy feeling in his chest. The tears, he could feel the way they burned and he forced himself not to blink, not to let them fall. The chirp of his car lock had shuddered through him in a way it hadn't in years, the memories clear as day while he stood back and considered not getting into the vehicle at all. He could have just walked, called a cab, not touched the handle. Paralyzed by long buried fear. The scotch, begrudgingly accepted more out of a sense of obligation than anything else, had smoothed frayed nerves, helped him forget the sound of the explosion, the lick of the flames but they were there now in the caustic smell of the tequila and the burn of the peppers wafting through the air. He couldn't escape it. At best he hoped to quiet the anxious feeling, stop his fingers worrying against one another. The tequila, he hoped, might make it go dormant again, help him at least forget the way his heart jumped into his throat as flesh touched metal.

“And hope,” he added with a final nod. “We'll get you out of here soon.”

“Hear, hear!” she squeaked through tears, more tears. He hadn't intended to make her cry again, yet there they were holding mugs of effervescent future misery side by side, both brimming with tears. She cried over him calling her a friend, as silly as it was, but him...why was he crying?

"Sir?" She eyed him suspiciously. "You never look particularly cheerful but you look...are you alright?"

He took a gulp and winced at the burn, the way the bubbles burst up into his nose and cleared his throat. "Hard day."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly," he replied softly and she nodded. "Thank you though."

"Of course, Aaron...anytime."

He was drunk fast, too fast, too easy. The world was softer, slower by the time he tried to focus enough to manage the fine motor skills of using a fork, pulling it to his mouth. She was right on his heels. The omelets provided a nice landing place for the tequila they were going through a little too quickly, and as a buffer she pulled out some tortilla chips and salsa. They laughed loud, probably too loud but who was there to complain?

"Wanna play a game?" she asked, watching the way his face seemed to fall after a few moments of silence. She couldn't allow it, and if he couldn't tell her what was wrong, she'd do her best to help him avoid it. He nodded and grinned, sloshing the liquid that was now more tequila than Sprite around in his mug - her pours had gotten considerably heavier as the night wore on. The curse of tequila. She dug an old Scrabble game out of a dusty drawer and by the time the team showed up, the board was a mess. Some real high score words, some terribly close but not quite, some just random letters thrown down because they looked funny side by side. They'd long since given up on playing the game by any real rules, now they were just making them up on a whim. She talked, he listened, they played. During one game, if you could pronounce the sounds of the letters and make the other person laugh hard enough, you could have the points. She was certain she had that one in the bag, but her skills were no match for his.

"Lawyer," he offered with a shrug as he peered at his tiles, tried to clear the double vision and pick some winners. She nodded, as if she followed his winding train of thought. It was a lie, she couldn't figure it out, so she offered an alternative that made sense to her.

"Dad," she said and he nodded, smiling.

"Yes. That, too."

In another version, he'd attempted to convince her of at least three words that Shakespeare had invented that you'd never find in a dictionary, proclaiming uselessly that they had definitions and rattling them off. There was no convincing her to budge on this one, she'd lost too many games to him already...even if he could produce the name of the play, the act and the line from which the word was pulled - she just laughed in his face and pushed the tiles back into his lap.

"I don't care where infamonize is in Love's Labor's Lost, it isn't in my dictionary so it isn't a word. You can't sway me with your pretty monologues, sir."

"Hey! Blondie!"

They both heard the shout from down the hall and froze. He was already curled up on the couch, his tired eyes having finally given up the ghost. The tiles had blurred into one wooden mess before him and there was not a thing he could do to change it - he'd tried, dumping his contacts and pulling out his glasses as a last resort. Not really sleeping, just laying curled up in a blanket with his glasses low on his nose listening to the sounds of David Bowie warbling ohhhh you pretty things...while Penelope told him a story, her words flying far too fast for him to keep up. He flinched at the sound of Derek's bellow, realized he was going to be in deep trouble, but it wasn't enough to make him sit upright or even open his eyes.

Derek would either find him, or leave him be to slowly die of dehydration. There was a bottle of water somewhere in his lap, fallen beneath the blankets but he couldn't muster the energy to search it out. The room spun in circles around him, slow and methodical rocking like he was adrift at sea. It didn't exactly make him dizzy but forced him to slow down, close his eyes, relax into it. Outside he heard the chirp of car locks, one two three and he hugged the pillow tighter to the ache in his chest, wondered how much tequila it would actually take to forget the way he'd felt just a few hours before, the way he hadn't felt in years and now it was fresh, like it never went away. Blood and shattered glass all he could see.

“Next time you're gonna steal my booze,” Derek continued, breezing into the room without stopping to consider what he would be interrupting. His go bag still hung over his shoulder, eyes narrowed to slits in the dark, he didn't see Aaron at first. He'd done a fine job of blending in, curling himself up tight beneath the blankets, Penelope's blankets. "Could you not destroy my office in the process?”

“You're back!” she stumbled out of her chair and flung her arms around his neck, pushing up onto the tips of her toes. She'd given up on the formality of her heels when Aaron slid out of his jacket, it seemed a fair trade. "My love, my light, I'm so glad you're all back safe and sound and OHHHH...you're in trouble you know that? Biiiiiiiig trouble. You and Dr. Lewis didn't take back-up...bad bad..."

"Woah," he said, scrunching up his nose at the smell of the booze on her breath. "Slow your roll. We didn't know that guy was the unsub, you know that, I was talking to you...wait, what's going on here?"

"Well," she started, still hanging around his neck. "Okay. I don't know, really, it's a liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittle bit fuzzy. See, it started with omelets. Or, back up...I was hungry, it was late but I didn't get a chance to have dinner and then Hotch came to talk to me and I was, I just...didn't want to be alone, and he had such a hard day here on his own and I thought...maybe he'd want to eat with me? So I asked him to eat with me and he said Jack was already in bed so why not and then I remembered the tequila in your office..." She was rambling, he was trying to keep up but his exhaustion was catching up to him faster than she could talk, a rough combination. "Now we're listening to David Bowie and talking...well I'm talking, he might be sleeping I don't know but did you know he's really really smart? He cheats at Scrabble though, I'm pretty sure..."

“Hotch...” Derek groaned and peeked around the fluff of her hair, shifted her to the side to get a better look at the man half alive on the couch. His lip twitched, a tiny smirk appearing right at the corner, just enough to be noticeable. Awake, but just barely. “You good?”

“Never better,” he lied as the smile spread to his entire face. His eyes remained closed, but he looked to be in very good spirits. “Sprite and tequila...not as bad as you would think...”

“Yeah. Right. Mama,” Derek warned, still holding her shoulders while he glared at her. She swayed like a leaf on a gentle breeze in his grasp, not enough to worry him but he struggled to keep her focus. He couldn't take another long story. Every few moments she opened her mouth like she wanted to say something and he furrowed his brow, quieting her instantly. “Here's what's happening. I'm gonna drive this man home and then I'm coming back...we need to have a talk.” Without giving her the chance for rebuttal, he helped the nearly sleeping man to his feet, steadied him there for a moment while Aaron forced his eyes open and tried to get his bearings. The floor rolled beneath him, he felt it up into his knees and he leaned hard against Derek, throwing one arm around his waist like it belonged there, quickly followed by the other. He held on like a baby koala, pressed his cheek against Derek's shoulder and finally he realized that this was how he forgot that awful feeling, the fear. This was his answer. Not scotch or tequila, he knew better, those only made things worse in the end. It had been Derek there before, with him in the street and at the hospital and driving him home, and it was Derek there now. It didn't fix the problem, but it did remind him that he was okay.

She had questions. Derek shushed her each time she opened her mouth to ask.

“My stomach is upset...” Aaron whispered, lost in his drunk fog that tasted an awful lot like regret but hoping Penelope wouldn't hear and feel guilty. Derek just nodded, he knew, and kissed him on the temple, walked him out the door without another word. He didn't fuss or argue, was pliant in Derek's arms.

Home was simple, Aaron slept the entire way, not a word shared between them. A pitcher of water and a glass, a bottle of ibuprofen, a handful of extra strength Tums and a trash can tucked right up beside the bed. Just in case. Jessica got a good laugh out of it when Derek told her, because even if she'd said she wouldn't wait up she always did, it was a force of habit far too old to break. She promised she'd listen for trouble while Derek was out, said it was her fault, she'd told him to have a good time.

"Never again," Derek said with a wink. "Not with that woman. Penelope can't be trusted."

It didn't take long for him to get back, the roads were empty enough that he could go a little too fast. It had just been enough time that she could clean up the mess, chug about a gallon of water and prepare her bed that now smelled just like whatever product Aaron used in his hair.

“I don't know what you were thinkin...” he announced, leaning in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. It was a little accusatory but mostly good-natured.

“I just...we just...”

“Oh, you just you just...” he was mocking her now, shaking his head. She didn't mind it, at least it told her he wasn't really mad. She hadn't done any real damage. The entire time they'd been gone she was worried she'd done something horribly wrong, maybe Aaron wasn't supposed to drink, maybe that tequila was special, a lot of maybes flew through her head as she forced herself to sober up and apologize.

“Is he okay?"

"He's sleepin' it off. Jessica's staying the night, he'll be okay. Might wanna take it easy around here tomorrow, huh? Seriously, Penelope, what were you thinking? He doesn't drink like that..."

"Hey. Okay, I made a mistake, it was a really hard day and I just thought...he looked like he needed...hey. Wait. Yeah I messed up but...but...you. You. YOU. What was...THAT?” And then there was this, it rose in her belly, beat at her chest, the indignity of feeling betrayed, lied to. Yeah, maybe she didn't need to get her boss drunk, that was stupid, and it would probably have consequences felt for days. She had a bed to crash on mere feet away but she hadn't considered where he'd be sleeping, how he would be getting home. Would he have been sleeping at his desk? And Derek was right, he didn't drink like that, he was doing it for her, to make her feel better and she felt awful, but then there was the arm and the kiss and she had QUESTIONS.

“No idea what you're talkin' about...” he feigned innocence, loved watching the way it got her all riled up. She was vibrating with anticipation and he ate it up. Pointedly, she played with the tea bag in her mug and stared at him, waiting for him to open up. A silent challenge. When it was clear to her that he had no intention of doing so, she set the mug down on the table and smacked him on the arm. “Keep your hands off of me, crazy lady.”

She eyed him warily while he gathered the dishes to wash, the last of the remnants from their wild two person party. “How long have you been lying to me?”

“Hey now,” he said softly, more than a little offended. He may not have told her everything, but he hadn't ever lied. "I don't like your tone."

“Don't you even, Derek Morgan...all those stories of girls you've been seeing...the...the...the roses and the weekend trip in New York and the...omigod...” Clarity was setting in but her mouth couldn't seem to keep up with the realizations.

“Okay wait a minute, I never said girls, first of all, you just assumed I meant girls...”

“So those were all...about...” Her breath hitched in her throat, she let out a soft little cough.

He grinned, waited for her to run through all of the stories she could remember, stories shared over late night glasses of wine ending in near misses, slips, an endless parade of nameless faceless girls replaced with her scowling but very handsome, well tailored boss. Moments he'd almost said too much, barely caught himself before saying a name, mentioning Jack but managed to keep it under wraps. She blushed, fell into the chair beside her with a dramatic thud.

“You are a monster. You...you two...for...how long?”

“Nevermind that, you little busybody. Now that you know what you know, your big, sexy mouth has to stay shut you understand me?”

She smirked and he shook his head, this was going to prove to be a challenge. Penelope, henceforth, was going to be insufferable. He wasn't looking forward to letting Aaron know that they'd been discovered, let the cat out of the bag with their affectionate shenanigans - Aaron had no idea what he'd done and Derek simply couldn't help it, it was already hard enough to keep his hands to himself on a normal day, this was too much. No more tequila for him.

“Go home, Derek Morgan. I want to go to bed and he needs you more than I do. See you...both...in the morning.”

[princess-of-inarizaki]

Oikawa roommate headcanons

Ah it's been so long since I've written something that wasn't a request or part of an event, so here's a soft and fluffy Oikawa one, I've been meaning to write for very long<3

gn reader x oikawa

Oikawa, is, without a doubt, the best roommate ever.

He's kind, considerate, smart, and honestly who wouldn't wanna room with him? I'd kill for it 😣🤚

Wakes you up every morning, because he wakes up freakishly early. If you're not a morning person, he usually just gets in bed with you and tickles you to death.

He's the type of guy to grumble when he sees you haven't made your bed in the morning, and yet lovingly make it for you while you're at class.

Sends you selfies really often while you're at class too. Sometimes he's with his teammates, though it's usually just him and his signature smile.

Since his training gym is close to your class, he picks you up "to save the planet and reduce carbon emissions" as he calls it. (But he's really just looking for chances to spend more time with you)

Will whine for your attention, because he's just a puppy when it comes to you.

If you're studying, you can just expect to be sidetracked because this mf doesn't ever leave you alone.

But

He pays for it, when you're unprepared and freaking out for your exams. then, he's suddenly your live-in tutor.

Instant ramen, cancelled training sessions, tons of coffee later, and you're finally ready to face the music because he's stayed up with you all night going through every single topic.

Every

Single

Topic

He has friends over sometimes, but he always asks you to give them their "privacy" when they're over, aka get out of the flat.

But it's really because he doesn't want to share you with them. You're his precious roommate, why should the rest get to meet you? What if they fall in love with you just like he has?

Iwa's the only person who knows of you, and he really just adores you.

But in a brotherly way.

He's never had a little sibling, and you're the closest thing to one. Cue Oikawa whining because "you love Iwa more" :((

"damn right they do, shittykawa"

:(

Movie nights are a thing with him. No matter how busy your week has been, Friday nights are for the both of you.

You're usually just cuddling in his arms, as you squeal over your husbandos on TV.

“Omigosh did you see Todoroki?? He's so hot, right?”

He gets really jealous and hogs the blanket when you do that, while increasing the AC.

How petty smh

But animes only hold your shared attention for so long. It usually ends with the two of you in your respective beds, chatting until 3 a.m.

Sometimes about dumb stuff, but Oikawa is a thoughtful person. He makes you see things in truly different ways, and his witty remarks have you laughing away.

Oikawa: "someday when I rule the world, you can be my trusty steed, okay?"

Y/n: 😁👍 shut up

He keeps you up some nights too. Usually whilst watching volleyball replays. The glow of the screen is dim, but you can't sleep until he does.

So you crawl into his lap and fall asleep there, whilst keeping him company.

Unfortunately, he can't focus on volleyball anymore, oops. Especially when you whine softly in your sleep, or cuddle closer to him.

Physically?? Can't sleep?? Unless you're home??

This sweetheart waits up until 3 a.m. for you sometimes, especially when you're out with your friends. And if you're drunk, he has a warm drink prepared for you.

And a handwritten note + Advil for when you wake up.

Ah he's really the sweetest. Our darling worries about you so much, even if you aren't aware of it. He just hides it behind his flirty words and exterior :'(

Sometimes, he comes home late throughout the week, after vigorous practices, and all he wants is your comfort.

Collapses on your bed in exhaustion, and whines for you to play with his hair. You probably complain at him for waking you up, but do it nonetheless. He is your precious Tooru, after all.

With your fingers tangled in his hair, you sigh softly because you guys aren't just roommates, anymore. You're so much more.

Hi everyone! Sorry for being so inactive lately. Things have just been very hectic. I hope you guys still enjoy my content, and that roommate! Tooru-chan made you smile a little bit !!

xoxo, the professor <3

Taglist: @k-sakusa-old @dai-tsukki-desu

[qyllenhaal]

God’s Face in the Fire || Part 2

Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader

Summary: A wife who would do anything to give her husband the world, even if it means getting herself involved with his trouble.

Word Count: 10.3k

Chapter warnings: dark themes!!! contains mentions of murder, non-graphic death scenes, smut (loss of virginity in a flashback scene), manipulation, brief mention of sexual assaults, misogyny, uncomfortable situations. Please heed the warnings!!! 18+ only

A/N: It's been forever since I posted. The last two weeks have left me discombobulated that it was hard to find time to sit down to write and edit this, but I'm glad I got to it! The next part is going to be the last part but I have plans to do one-shots for this universe. I'm going to be posting a Senator!Chris fic tomorrow so stay tuned for that.

Enjoy!

"You remember when I took you out for milkshakes and you spilled yours all over me? You were wearing that exact same color," Lee said pointing at the dress she was pressing.

"All those years ago, and you still remember that?" Y/n wanted to drown in this tender moment she's having with her husband. Hearing him laugh, his stomach shifting, and his eyes wrinkling.

"How could I? Watching you get all flustered and cute really got me goin’. It's when I knew I was gonna marry ya."

The days have been incredibly warm and beautiful since Y/n had done what she did. It was cruel irony that she was enjoying another day while someone’s body was rotting. The softer moments of life were few and far between these days, but right now she’s offered her a wonderful distraction.

She had taken on more tasks than usual to distract herself from the intrusive thoughts she had. She even accepted a last minute invite to help put on an event at the local rental hall with some of the other mothers in town. It gave her an excuse to look nice and show herself off to anyone who had some doubts about Lee. Things were looking good for him, but there was always something to do to further rehabilitate his image. She always looked her best as the sheriff's wife. Keeping up the appearances exhausted her since they have become more frequent for her. However if she wanted the people to fawn over her lovely family, she had to show up. An arts and crafts event for the kids is also a good chance to get their daughter out of the house.

Teenage Y/n did not see herself becoming a housewife so young. It was unsavory to think about being a homemaker for one of the boys’ at school. She surmised that she would’ve stuck by her original plan if she had not been so lonely. All of Y/n's friends left within a year of graduating high school. She didn't have that many friends to begin with, but she thought that at least one would always be there for her. Rose went to college, and Barbara found a man to marry and moved to upstate New York. Only one stayed for some time, Judith, but she eventually left after having a shotgun wedding. It was selfish of her to think that someone would stay just because she got rejected from the only college she had applied to. Other people had lives and Y/n was just not at the center of them.

The absence of her friends made her pregnancy more lonely. Her baby shower consisted of her family, Lee’s sister, and his co-workers and their wives. None of the women seemed to be fond of Y/n. It always plagued her mind to know if they thought she was too young and stupid or if it was just something else

She found solace in some of the other mother's in town. When she began showing up around to volunteer at bake sales and food drives she expected them to look at her face and then down at her belly and reject her. She is younger than them and feared they'd find her naïve. She had kept to herself for so long that she thought they'd write her off as the sheriff's meek wife.

Y/n didn't get a chance to mingle with anyone prior to her marriage and Lee made it harder by insisting in little ways that she stay in the house. No one was at fault that Lee wanted to keep her to himself. It was possible he did it out of insecurity, but Y/n now speculates that it was because he didn’t want to hear or even see what he may have been doing.

One of the ladies who Y/n only knew by her dark hair and distinct, pointy nose joked that Lee had, "finally let Rapunzel out of the castle." When the other mothers joined into laughter, she felt small. It was only a harmless joke that was steeped in the truth. It took her persistence to no longer wanting to feel alone while being pregnant to get the women to warm up to her, and the did.

"I remember spilling the milkshake, but I was too embarrassed to remember anything else about that night," she admitted.

Lee remembers that night very well. He wishes that she didn't end the night so quickly because she ruined a pair of trousers that could easily be replaced. He had only bought them to impress her, but it didn't take much to get her to swoon over him. No other man was giving her the time of day.

"We should go out to that diner Friday night. Now that we have someone to watch the little one, we don't have to stop by your parents to drop her off anymore. I can just scoop you up and we can have a night together," Lee pressed himself into Y/n's backside. She giggled when his hands lightly danced against her ticklish sides.

Lee had also been aware of the slim moments of intimacy with his wife. He was serious about this race but he truly underestimated how much time and effort he'd have to put into this. But people really did love the old mayor. The only slight Lee had against him was his old age and how some believed that if he kept going then he might run into some health problems. The rumors about him becoming more and more forgetful were minute compared to the dark gossip swirling about Lee though. Some of the people in town would probably vote for a paper bag before Lee.

His biggest fear is that he loses the election and drives his wife away. He could lose the race, but if his wife somehow slipped away, taking their baby with her, he’d drink himself into a stupor. Lee tried his very best to hide his insecurities from her. When he worried, she worried too and it made it much harder for him to plan his way out of whatever hole he is in when he has a hysterical wife to deal with. That's why he'd rather not tell her anything.

Lee also wasn't the young man in his prime anymore, he believed that his good looks were fading, and he has gained a considerable amount of weight. The fear of Y/n just up and leaving him for someone younger than him and riding off to the city always plagued him. The birth of their daughter should've assuaged him, but his self-doubt always lingered like a cloud that made him stick to his vices.

"I've really missed ya honey...missed this body of yours."

Y/n flinched when his hands ran down the front of her body, over her stomach and then circling up back to her breast. Her body has changed considerably since giving birth and the hormonal imbalance left her feeling tired, sad, and alone. Her mother told her that all she had to do was look at her child and she'd feel better, but every time she looked at her little girl all she did was worry. Was she a good mom? Why was her daughter crying so much without much working? Was Lee staying at work for long hours to avoid the crying and her? Did he still find her attractive?

They’re both too busy thinking Lee's mayoral bid to realize they felt the exact same way as each other. If there was any other time that proved they were an extension of each other, it was now, but they were too blind to see it.

"Lee y-you're going to be late for work," her voice was weakened by his lips now nipping at her neck.

"Don't give a damn," he whispered against her skin, inhaling her familiar scent, "just wanna feel my wife."

Today, Y/n felt herself slipping back into her normal self and normal life. She melted into Lee, hoping that maybe they could have a moment to themselves, but they were interrupted by the phone ringing downstairs. Every early morning and late night phone call had her on edge. They never seemed to be about anything important but it hasn't failed yet to make her stomach churn.

Lee groaned and pulled away from her. She watched him disappear to go answer the phone.

It has been nearly two days and the only thing on her mind is what happened after she left that brothel. The anxiety made her feel sick. Hours later after it happened, around 2 a.m., she woke up and darted to the toilet. Lee kept asking her if she was pregnant as he held her hair back while her face was in the toilet. She dismissed his claims, knowing full and well that she was just sickened by her actions.

Lee had not mentioned a death or anything related to that brothel, so had he even been found? Was his death even reported? The girls who worked for him were probably too worried about their own arrest than the death of their abusive boss.

She wiped the look of worry off of her face when she heard his heavy footsteps coming back up the stairs.

"Who was it?"

"Your brother," his tone held disgust, "invited us to dinner on Sunday. He asked to speak to you but I told him you were still sleep."

"Lee!"

"I don't want to hear it," his voice boomed, much more dominant and rough than hers, "I ain't having dinner with him and I don't want to hear your mouth about it."

Y/n stayed silent and watched him grab the police hat resting on the dresser. She hated for him to leave on such a sour note, but she wouldn't dare say anything in fear she might make things worse.

He started towards the door of their bedroom before turning back to his wife, "Sandy supposed to stop by Saturday. I don't know why, so don't ask, but she claims she's comin'. Who knows if she'll stick to her word."

It’s like Lee did that on purpose, as some sort of sick payback for her brother calling. Y/n was not fond of Sandy and did not like to be around her for more than ten minutes. Sandy was a nice girl, a bit unsavory at times, but her husband Carl was a stain on her life. There was something about him that reminded her of the men her mother had warned her about when she was a young teenager; a man with a slick tongue and a creepy air around him. However, she found Carl much more sinister than that. The look in Carl's eyes when he looked at her and flashed her that unsettling smile was imprinted into her brain. They did not come around much, but when they did it was always a traumatic experience for Y/n.

Lee left the room before Y/n could respond. He knows how Y/n feels, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. She’s not going to protest against it because she knows better than that. He focused on the sound of soft babbling from his daughter as he walked into her room.

"Hey you," she looked up at him with her big eyes and her widening smile that made his heart swell, "you gonna be good for your mama? You've been on a mean streak lately and I'd hate to make good on my threat and put you in baby jail."

His daughter reached up and tried to grab at his face. Lee was clean-shaven now, but for the first few months of his daughter's life he had enough hair on his face for her to grab a hold of. It was funny to see how she still tried to grab at his non-existent hair, pinching his skin in the process.

"Miss the beard little lady? You're just like your mama," he kissed her forehead and felt a deep sense of guilt that he had to leave her to go to work. But everything he did was for her and if he believes that the long hours are going to pay off. All of his work is going to pay off when he wins that race.

-

The dress her daughter wore was blush to complement her mother's golden one. She looked around at every single building and person they passed as if it was her first time seeing it again. Her sense of wonder always made Y/n adore her even more. Y/n wondered what was going on in the little mind of her and what sense she made of the world.

She was never fussy when they were out, which was good for Y/n, but also good for the rehabilitation of Lee's image. He has such a good daughter and pretty wife, he must be doing something right. Every single person who stopped to say hi or coo at how cute her baby was, Y/n wondered if they have ever said something negative about Lee. Y/n never received weird stares or grimaces that would make her paranoid, but she still felt on edge. She always wanted to be on her best behavior, especially when Lee was not with her.

Y/n was forced to be her normal self; cheerful even though her mind was reeling over two nights ago, her sister-in-law, and what the conversation between Lee and her brother this morning may have sounded like. When one of the toddlers thrusted their drawing her face she feigned an excited smile. She hoped the mother's didn't notice her lackluster attitude.

"Y/n , can I speak with you?"

It was Sally's voice that called to her. She looked at the blonde woman with a bit of panic on her face. She thought that she was going to get chewed out by her, especially since she pulled her far away from the other children, and her daughter who was being held by one of the recently graduated girls.

"Is everything alright Sally?"

"I should be asking you that. Why am I hear things about Mrs. Blackwater sayin' she seen your Lee dumpin' bodies in the river behind her house?" At that moment Y/n could not hear her despite her lips still moving. Her blood ran cold at that last name being mentioned. It's been years, close to a decade, since she thought about that old woman, but the mere mention of her name brought Y/n back to a place she didn't want to be.

"I-I...I don't know what she's talking about-"

"My husband and I made a sizable donation to your husband's campaign, and it would be a shame to see him lose," the sugary voice and fake smile on Sally's face made Y/n's stomach ache. She didn't like how some of these women could be so fake because it always made her question if they really liked her or not. But Sally didn't care what Y/n would respond with, all she cared about was her and her husband's reputation, "you're not that much younger than me so you remember them days when that old bitch would be on her porch spewin’ whatever nonsense she could think if at any girl who walked on her sidewalk. No one likes Mrs. Blackwater, but don't think for a second they won't consider what she has to say about that husband of yours. I've heard too many whispers about him and I don't like it. I'll pull my endorsements if you don't fix this shit."

Was murdering one person not enough to save her husband from losing this race? The brothel owner was one person, someone who would not be missed by many people, but could she do something about Mrs. Blackwater?

'That's not right, that's not right.'

No matter how much she tried to shake that evil idea off, it kept creeping into her mind. Murder was the unlikely tool she had in her arsenal all along. It was morally wrong to kill someone, but her victim and the potential one had not been nice people. Mrs. Blackwater's stain on this Earth paled in comparison to Reed's, but that woman made her blood run much colder than the brothel owner.

It was so ironic that Mr. Blackwater was a beloved man in town because no one could stand his wife. They knew not to cross her path and that pies and home cooked meals would not abate her disdain for people. A man who was so kind and friendly was married to the most antisocial person Y/n has ever come across. But he never wasted a moment to sing her her praises. Y/n remembers one of her sons and he was mean just like his mother; a school yard bully that would beat up on anyone he saw as weak and alone. Y/n was lucky that he knew she had an older brother to protect because the Blackwater’s youngest boy never tried anything with her. However, she was not lucky enough to escape the wrath of Mrs. Blackwater. The irony was that she probably would've been better off being a victim of her son. That woman was nasty and wasn't afraid to show it.

"Don't you two get tired of dressing like whores?"

They had to pass the Blackwater house to get to Rose's house. Her house used to be at the end of the street before it got burned down, leaving the Blackwater house the last one on the street. It was nice, and had a big, big porch that Mrs. Blackwater always sat on for most of the day. She didn't stop at calling them just "whores'' and "wenches" either. Y/n never could understand why they always took the brunt of that woman's anger. Rose went home in tears every time she walked by that house. Maybe Y/n's anger is displaced, but she blames Mrs. Blackwater for why Rose was so eager to leave. There wasn't much here, but Rose always promised she'd stay. But ever since they encountered Mrs. Blackwater's misery, Rose had changed.

She could imagine that same venomous voice saying awful things about her husband, "Lee Bodecker put that body in the water. I saw it with my own two eyes!"

The thought of her husband killing someone shouldn't sound so crazy, especially after being able to do it herself. But her Lee can't be a cold-hearted man who slept with whores, murdered people, and ruined people lives. He was so sweet to her, he wasn't always was, but his touch was so soft against her skin, how could he hurt anyone?

Y/n had just turned 19 when she met Lee. He was a deputy, closer to being the sheriff than either of them knew at the time. Their age difference scared her somewhat; she only gave him a chance so she could distract herself from reminding herself that she should be finishing up the last year of being a college freshman. She had the grades and thought her test scores were satisfactory but she got rejected from Indiana University. Her father told her that there is always next year, but her mother told her she should just figure out a new plan.

It was the uncertainty and loneliness that made her get closer to Lee. He was close to his late 20s, unmarried, and he didn't exactly make his loneliness unknown.

He left a sour taste in her mouth in their very first encounter; pulling her over as an excuse to get her number. She gripped the steering wheel to stop them from shaking so much. She only had her license for a few weeks and made sure to be careful in fear of this exact situation happening. His slick talk didn't make her feel that much better either. She was too shaken up to even look at him in the eye or take in any of his features. She just remembered seeing his badge the words DEPUTY SHERIFF etched into it.

Lee let her off, saying she had a "pretty face" and that he hoped to see her around. She didn't think much about their interaction the days after he pulled her over, but she began to see him more than before. Y/n couldn't remember a time she had seen him prior to that one night and found it odd that his face kept reappearing. (He later told her that it was fate, but it was not. Lee purposefully put himself in her orbit. It was not hard to learn what her routine was and when she went out.)

She was weary about his advances, unsure how to react to them because the most experience she's had was with two boys, only one of whom she kissed. Their first date was not by choice either, he just decided to stick by her side while she was at the local dinner by herself.

And he has always stuck by since then, always hovering around her until she realized he was not going to go away and it’d be futile to ignore him. Lee never gave her the chance to make the decision for herself, but his girl was so sweet and she just needed a few cushy words for her to understand that this was where she belonged.

"Do your parents know you're out here meeting me?" It had only been a matter of time before she learned to be very obedient to him; always accepting his plans, even if it meant sneaking out of the house in the midnight hour. The smirk he wore on his face every time he watched her walk up to him left her feeling enchanted.

"Don't talk too loud. If my brother hears you he'll kill you and have my head."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her front to him. Lee groaned at the feel of her breast against his chest. She was so nervous to do anything with him that she only let him kiss her. It was fine for a while, but he had grown tired of waiting. Tired of being teased by her in those soft, pink dresses that would ride up whenever she had to bend over even just a little bit. He couldn't believe how naive she was to believe he was always dropping things like a pencil or his wallet on accident; he just wanted to see her bend over for him just for a chance to peak at what pretty panties she wore that day.

Getting her to come out with him at night was surprising, but the idea of riding in his patrol car was so alluring. The sparkle in her eyes gave him an overwhelming sense of machismo; enough for him to realize he just needs to take what she wants.

The full moon hung in the clear sky and they had a vast, open field in front of them. He took her just to the edge of the county that was secluded and was his favorite spot to go for some quiet (or getting his dick sucked). The moonlight and a few street lights that were actually working were the only light they had.

"You look so pretty today baby," his hand rested on her thigh the whole entire drive but only now did he actually move it to stroke her skin, "you always look so pretty for me. I'm the luckiest man in town."

Y/n giggled and her face felt like it was burning up. No one had taken the time to compliment her sweetly, and that was obvious to Lee. He cradled her face in the palm of his hand and watched her turn into putty. His hand inches closer to her heat causing her to jump like his hand was made of actual fire.

"Relax baby...just relax for me," Lee planted his face in her neck and nipped at it. His lips tickled the skin on her neck and she did her best to suppress her giggles but they spilled from her lips. Lee smirked against her skin, "there she is. There's my girl."

She let a laugh slip through, but she suppressed the moan that was stuck in her throat. It was so odd to feel him on her neck but it was an unfamiliar feeling that she liked. His hand never left her thigh, in fact he had sneakily moved it closer to her sex. She felt ashamed about the growing wetness that she could feel sticking to her.

Lee grabbed her hand and placed it right over the bulge straining in his pants. She let out a heavy sigh when she realized what it was. "That's how hard you make me. You making me so fucking hard girl," he growled in her ears. This was something only the senior girls from her high school could dream about when they talked about hooking up with their boyfriends. None of them were even half the man Lee was, and here he was: hard and ready just for her.

"L-Lee," her voice broke into bits, her body overheating from Lee taking control, "wait, can we slow down?"

"You taste so sweet baby," he continued kissing her, ignoring her until she was pulling away from his grasp. "What's wrong girl?" The furrowing of his brow made her worry that she pissed him off. Lee was all she had, he convinced her to put away her dream of going to college and stay here for him, if she ran him off then she'd have nothing else.

"I'm just nervous. I’ve never done this before Lee," she hoped her honesty went a long way and would make him take her home instead. But all it did was make him readjust himself in his seat and pull away from her rather coldly.

Lee was irritated with her, she got him all hard, but he did his best to temper his anger. She's lucky that he was on the job all day and didn't have a chance to drink yet or else she'd see the side of him that he purposely hid from her.

"Don't be nervous baby. You know I love you right?" She nodded her head with her wide eyes holding a sad look in them, "good girl. Let me show you something."

Lee patted his lap and Y/n looked at him with apprehension.

"C'mon now," he patted his lap once again, this time with a bit of impatience in his voice.

Y/n awkwardly shifted over the center console of his patrol car and found herself in his lap. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder. She tried to ignore how his bulge poked at her slit through her cotton panties.

"You ever been in a car this nice before?"

"Uh-uh," she shook her head, somewhat distracted by the beautiful interior and his cock poking at her. The only car she's ever drove was the shitty one that was passed down to her. Lee's patrol car doesn't look like it's more than five years old.

Seeing her look in wonder at the dash made him even harder. He began to rut against her, trying to feel as much friction as he could, but it wasn't enough to satiate a man who has been waiting a few months for this.

He sat back and started fumbling with his pants. Y/n heard the sound of the metal on his belt and unzipping of his pants but she froze on top of him instead of moving. She grabbed the steering wheel and held onto it as tight as she did the night he first laid eyes on her. Her alarm rose when Lee lifted her up a little to push her panties to the side.

"Lee what are you doing-"

"Shhh baby don't worry, I got you."

The sensation of his head poking at her slit and her sliding down him was unspeakable. She was uncomfortable with his splitting size, but he didn't move her at all, trying to give her some time to adjust but it was just so hard for him to restrain himself. She was so tight and warm, and definitely untouched by any man. "Fuck," he mumbled warmly in her ear. She felt him wrap his arm tighter around her, almost as if he was afraid she was going to somehow run away from him. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't know her way back home and she'd be stuck out here. She was safe with Lee even though she found herself feeling more confusion than pleasure.

Those girls from her high school days had to been lying to her, sex didn’t feel all that magical; his patrol car was not a romantic place to lose her virginity. Lee rocked her on his cock slowly as she tried to find the same pleasure that he was experiencing. His heavy breath was on her ear as she stared straight up into the night sky.

"You feel so good. You feel so fucking good baby."

His pleasure is what made her want to stay on top of him like this. She cared for him so much and she just wanted Lee to be proud of her. The "good girl" that continuously spilled from his lips sounded like a hymn she wanted to memorize.

Y/n let Lee have his way with her body. He groped her breast through her dress and then let his hands graze her sides. She wondered what he was doing when his hand slipped into her panties, but the warmth that shot through her made her mind go blank. Lee rubbed at her sensitive bud and she constricted around him. Instead of whimpering, she was now fully moaning; the way it felt so good had put her discomfort into the back of her mind.

"Oh fuck -- move your hips girl. You feel so good."

He rubbed her harder as a reward for swirling her hips against him. She began to bounce on top of him and he no longer had to do the hard work, just lean back and feel her engulfing him in her warmth.

"Lee," she whimpered, unsure of herself, but then she called his name again, "Lee," as if to let him know that he was the one giving her pleasure.

Lee knew he wasn't going to last, not when she was as tight and wet as she was. He can't remember the last time he took someone's virginity, nor when he was this hard. It was clear to him that she had no idea what she was doing by the way she bounced on him without a rhythm. Sometimes she'd stall herself before moving fast again. It didn't irk him, he found it endearing that she was so inexperienced. He was going to have to show her a lot of things and get her to fuck him to his liking.

Y/n gasped when Lee pulled out of her and jerked himself until white liquid was splashing on the back of her panties. She'd have to wash them before her mother saw the stain.

"You did so good baby, taking my cock like a big girl," he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek, still trying to catch his breath while she shifted on top of him. He put himself away and nudged her towards the empty passenger seat. She was silent the entire time he drove her home. A sense of pride filled her because she had made Lee feel good. The sex itself was too weird to describe as being good, but she liked how she felt inside when he told her she felt good and that she made him cum. That's all she wanted to do was please Lee.

-

Saturday morning proved to be another beautiful day. It seems as if Summer didn't want to leave just yet even though October was near. There wouldn't be many more opportunities for Lee to make his impressions and sway the last few voters not on his side.

The event had been boring at most, but Sally's words really shook her up. No one in town would deny that Mrs. Blackwater has always been a bitter women, but they also wouldn't necessarily turn the other cheek if she starts going around saying that Lee Bodecker is a murder. Y/n's new problem made her forget about the decaying brothel owner. She doesn't care how mean the whole town thought the old woman was, she wanted her gone.

"You slept in. Did I tire you out last night?" Lee had the same smug smirk on his face that has been imprinted on her brains since their early years together.

Y/n nodded even though it wasn't completely truthful. She slept so hard because she's mentally spent and it was finally catching up with her body. Lee had been too distracted to notice how distant she was last night and how she is still distant now. In his eyes, as long as she was eager to lay under him then everything was fine.

Most mornings started like this: Y/n waking up next to her still tired husband and waiting to hear her daughter crying for her. He trudged out of bed and she heard him beat a path down the hall to the bathroom. There was still no sound of her daughter needing her, giving her some time alone. It was nearly silent except for the faint sound of the shower going. She breathed deeply and found herself feeling serene. Just five minutes without the memory of Sally threatening to pull her and her husband's support taunting her.

"Y/n! Do you not hear her crying?" Lee held a stern look on face, he must have been standing there for a few minutes. His towel was wrapped around his waist, stomach hanging over the soft white cotton, "what's wrong with you girl?"

She shook her head, "nothing Lee. I'm just still a lil' tired."

His face softened at her explanation but he nodded his head towards the door so she could take care of their daughter. Y/n hurried not to upset him for the rest of the day.

Their baby was just fussy and hungry. Her little eyes weren’t that red so she hadn’t been crying for long. “You hungry?” Her daughter somewhat understood what her mother was saying because her eyes went wide. The nightgowns Lee had bought Y/n made it much easier for her to pull herself out of them to feed their girl. She could see her daughter calming down, eyes closing once again. Y/n thought about keeping her daughter with her but she needed to rest in her crib. She placed her down gently as not to disturb and wake her again. At least one person in this family deserves peace.

"Back to sleep?" Lee's voice startled her, but the hand on her hip soothed her. Y/n nodded, never taking her eyes away from her girl. "Precious isn't she? So sweet when she's not fussin' about."

"She only fusses because she's teething, and she misses her father."

"Honey, you know why I'm at work longer than usual. It's for her. It's for you. It's for us. Do you know how much better her life, your life, is going to be better after I win that race?"

"But what if you don't win?"

Y/n rarely questions Lee, not even over small things, so he was confused as to why she was questioning him now. Did his wife not believe in him? She worried a lot, but when he first ran for sheriff, she was not this doubtful.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Lee, I didn't say that. It's just that people been talkin' and -"

"And you believe them? So my own wife doesn't think I'm going to win because a few people can’t got some things wrong?”

Y/n flinched as his voice got louder. The brashness of his voice woke their girl up from her attempt to fall into a deep sleep. Instead of waking up and silently looking around, the first thing that came from her was a cry. It served as a way for Y/n to escape Lee's wrath. She pulled her crying daughter into her arms and held her close to her chest. One glance at Lee's face and she knew he was going to deal with her later. But for now he just sighed and walked out of the nursery.

"Aww don't cry honey. It was just your daddy, okay? He's not mad at you sweetheart. Don't cry...don't cry," Y/n's voice cracked and tears slipped down her face. Her pleas were more for herself than they were her daughter.

Lee's hesitance to address the obvious problems he faces in regards to the election made Y/n feel uneasy. All she wanted was for her husband to just outright say he never did those things, but he never did. And if Y/n has resulted to murder, then she knows deep down that he did some of those things that people allege. There were just things that were too loud to drown out. The business when it came to solving a string of murders that happened a few years ago and people talking about him didn't affect him when he was going for re-election. There was no one else that had a strong enough presence to go against him and the folks in town figured that Lee gets enough done as far as crime goes, even though he could do more.

Y/n should be tired of trying to clean up his mess when he was so short with her. However it is not entirely his fault; he does not know. Maybe one day he'll learn and be grateful for what she has done for him.

-

Lee just couldn't stop reminding her that Sandy and Carl were coming over. It's almost as if he knew it got under Y/n's skin and used it against her after she hurt his feelings this morning. He's a sensitive one, even though he hides it well from most people, but her moment of vulnerability wasn't meant to hurt him. Though if their conversation had progressed any further, she might have spilled what she did to the brothel owner. She may want to believe Lee would be proud of her, but she cannot be so sure. It's sickening to assume that someone would be proud of a murder. She quickly began to feel dirty after a few minutes with her own thoughts ever since Lee snapped at her.

"Can you clean up? We're going to be having guests soon."

There were just a few baby toys on the floor but it was best not to make things worse with Lee (even though those toys were going to end up in the same place anyway).

Lee stepped outside as Y/n put their daughter in her high chair. Ever since her birth Lee was mindful not to smoke in the house; it was one of the house rules Y/n proposed that he was surprisingly very accepting of. She had taken away most of the things that he used to destress: alcohol, cigarettes, and candies.

She heard the motor of a car and Lee's muffled voice. She knew it was them, but hoped they were just making a short trip over. It's not like Lee likes Carl, and he's constantly complaining about his trouble making sister. Y/n hates that Sandy uses their daughter as an excuse to come over. She wouldn't mind if Sandy came alone, but she hated Carl around her little girl and she's sure Lee feels the same way.

Y/n's mother had gotten their daughter such a stupid gift when she was born. A baby that's not even half a year old yet didn't need a toy that had a million little pieces they could easily choke on, but of course it was her favorite thing to place with. Lee never cleaned up the mess, it was always Y/n who was doing it. She tried her best to pick everything up before they stepped inside but she heard the front door open. She tensed up, but she only heard the heavy footsteps of one person, and god did she hope it was Lee.

"What you doin' down there?"

Her eyes trailed up and Carl was gazing down at her. Words got caught in her throat and she clutched her hand around one of the toy pieces, the edges of it painfully digging into her palm.

"Did I scare you?"

The smirk on her face made her want to shriek. She noted that he didn't call her "darlin'" like he used to. She can only guess what Lee did to him when he "took him out back" after calling her that for a few years.

"Where's my niece?"

Y/n shot up, not caring about the toys still on the floor. She'll be damned if Carl is alone with her daughter for even a second.

Sandy came in with Lee following behind her. He gave Y/n a look of understanding, he too hoped this was going to be a short visit. The sound of Sandy fawning over her niece overtook the room. Their daughter giggled and babbled at her aunt as if she could understand her.

"Y/n go make us some ice tea."

Usually Lee doesn't command her to do things, unless he was stressed or horny. She knew her was the former by the look on his face. He was aggravated and this visit wasn't going to make him feel any better. As Y/n left the room, Sandy sat down on their couch with their daughter in her arms. Carl sat next to them, making the alarm in Lee rise.

"I got you something honey," she pulled out a little doll from her purse. It looked tattered and Lee wondered where she got it from.

"You know she already has enough dollies," Lee joked. It didn't matter to his girl, it was a new toy, "got anything for your brother?"

Sandy eyes him before pulling out a small bag of candy. She tossed it to him and he caught it, "I knew you'd ask for somethin'"

He opened it and instantly popped a sweet cherry candy into his mouth.

"Y/n's not letting me drink since the girl is so young. This is the only thing I got, even though she's on my ass about that too," Lee knew that Sandy wasn't too interested in the ins-and-outs of his everyday life but he gets tired of complaining to his deputies.

"Yea, I bet," she kept a snide comment about her sister-in-law to herself. The box of cigarettes she had calling her name we're going to have to wait. "How's that mayor race going?"

"It's going."

"Heard that whore house owner croaked," Carl's voice carried to the kitchen and Y/n paused, "found in unusual circumstances...chairs pushed up against the door...poisoned. Reckon one of those girls got tired of him holdin' them down-"

"No smoking in the house," Lee interrupted when he noticed Carl reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. Carl laughed as if he wanted to challenge Lee, but his hand went back to resting on the back of the couch.

"Wouldn't want this little darlin' smellin' like a bar."

Anytime Carl spoke at or about her daughter, Y/n wanted to vomit. Carl is not nice. She wonders how twisted Sandy might be to marry someone who is awful to women and has no filter.

There was a cloud of fear over her head when Carl was around. She wishes Lee was more apprehensive but Sandy's his little sister, and he cares for her no matter how much those two causes. Things would be different if Y/n had told Lee about that time Carl pressed himself against and put his hand up the skirt of her dress. His threat would forever bounce off her skull and it only got louder when he was near. "Shut you're fucking mouth or else your husbands gonna see his slut wife bending over for another man." She was five months pregnant and had no way to defend herself. He only groped her, but she always wondered if he would've gone further if Sandy hadn't come in looking for the cooking tongs Lee told her to fetch. Sandy knew something had happened, but she said nothing. Y/n's disdain for her only grew from that day on.

Lee redirected the conversation from what Carl had started to something a bit more asinine. He didn't want to talk about something work-related because he didn't need to be stressed out any further. Reed’s death wasn't another blow to his reputation like Lee thought it would. It was going to be another unsolved murder from the way it was looking though. The people assumed one of the girls did it. The place had been emptied out; it surely looked different from when Lee was last in there. Lee was lucky that Reed was extremely disliked, unlike that preacher Roy who died some years ago. More people said "he had it coming" instead of "why isn't the sheriff doing anything?"

He laughed about it though. When he was alone in the car after leaving the crime scene, he laughed. There was no more worrying about the rumor that Sheriff Lee Bodecker beat one of his girls. When Lee did go to that place, he was never forceful. Lee could be mean towards women at times, but he was never violent.

-

If Lee was called in on a Sunday morning, then it was very important. He woke Y/n up at 5 am and kissed her out of her confused state to say goodbye. She only slept for another hour after laying her head down back on the pillow.

This morning felt so different.

The morning she woke up knowing her task was to deal with Reed, she was distracted and jumpy. But she had grown so accustomed to her guilt that it's become a comfortable feeling. Mrs. Blackwater was a more personal score to settle. That woman was throwing dirt on Lee's name, but the turmoil she caused her teenage friend would never leave her mind. Y/n had learned how cruel someone could be without physically hurting you. The boys on school grounds were annoying brats, but that woman had a truly awful mouth.

The Petersons’ daughter was over right after church. She had a wide smile on her face, happy that Mrs. Bodecker was giving her another opportunity to make some money.

"She's been a fairly good mood lately," Y/n handed her daughter off to the shorter teenage girl, "she slept through the night for once, but she's still gonna need a nap. Once she starts fussin' put her in her crib. I should be back before Lee."

Y/n wished her well and the Petersons girl wished Y/n a good time running her errands. It was comical to think of this as an errand, even though today she was going to treat it like one.

She was in Lee's nice car again meaning she was going to have to temporarily get rid of it. Y/n put much more effort into this, her haphazard plan to take out Reed could've gone horribly wrong. She spent her time snooping around town when she was out with one of her mom friends. The plan had been simple: park the car at the crowded grocery just two blocks away from the Blackwater house. The house sat at the end of the street, a bit separated from the other row of houses because of the larger amount of land they owned. It wouldn't be a problem to walk to the house seeing as others in this neighborhood do the same thing.

When her mother had made that dress for her to wear to the Spring Formal, Y/n cried, saying she was going to look like a nurse instead of "the prettiest girl in town" like Jim, the guy who asked her to the dance said. A teenage grievance had somehow come in handy almost a decade later. It was under a long coat that was a bit abnormal for this warm day.

Y/n felt sickly confident. That only thing she worried about was Lee cruising through and seeing his car in the parking lot. But the grocery store offered a great cover. The sun was covered by a thick cloud as she walked away from the grocery store and to the old Blackwater house.

That porch still looked the same. It was old and rickety, squeaking as she stepped on it, she's surprised it didn't give it away some years ago. The rocking chair Mrs. Blackwater sat on while terrorizing people was no longer there. At least her days of scaring off the newer generation of kids were over.

Y/n knocked on the door and waited. She had to knock again, and by the third time she wondered if the old lady did the job for her!

"Who is it?" The voice was much more frail, but it was that voice.

"I'm here to help!" The upturn of her voice at the end made her statement sound more like a question.

The locks on the door began to click and Mrs. Blackwater peered at her.

"You're not the one they always send."

"Oh, she's sick today! I'm just filling in for her today!" After two weeks of watching, Y/n learned what days Mrs. Blackwater's nurse came and went. She came everyday but she was absent on Sundays. It's somewhat astounding that Mrs. Blackwater didn't ask about Y/n turning up on a Sunday.

"Ahh whatever," she dismissed, unlocking the screen door, and wheeling backwards in the wheelchair that she had been relegated to a few years ago.

Y/n didn't know what to expect when she stepped inside, but it wasn't too far off from how her parent's house looked; black and white photos littering the walls and stacks of paper that probably could've been thrown away a decade ago. What is different from her parent's home is that this place is an utter mess. The nurse that usually comes to take care of her could at least tidy it up a bit. With how much she hated everything, Y/n would've assumed she hated mess too, but her home says otherwise. This lady was an absolute hoarder.

"Don't bother me," Mrs. Blackwater sniped at her. She wheeled herself next to the couch and glued her eyes to the black and white television screen.

Y/n doesn't know how many hours Mrs. Blackwater spent sitting there and watching The Andy Griffin Show. She didn't laugh when something funny happened, she just sat there still, sometimes grumbling to herself in reaction to what was happening on screen.

The least Y/n could do was tidy up a bit. It would be a kind gesture to leave her to die in a presentable place.

Mrs. Blackwater is not going to die a violent death. She was awful, but she did not deserve the brutality like someone who has done physical harm did. (If she was just a little bit braver, she would've hacked him to death, but the sight of blood makes her ill). Mrs. Blackwater was up in age, nearing her 90s, and it would be time for her to go soon anyway. Y/n dusted around the TV, one of the last things this old woman may see. All the photos of people on the walls were staring at her as she moved about cleaning the dust from the frames. So many people, many dead but most probably alive. Mrs. Blackwater had children and probably grandchildren but no one came to visit her. Her tongue was sharp, but how could no one come and visit their aging mother?

"Stop moving so damn much. Sit down girl."

The venom was still in her voice. It would never go away, at least not until she dies. This woman didn't appreciate anything and enjoyed being miserable. Y/n listened to her like that scared little teenager she used to be. She sat on the couch, a few feet away from Mrs. Blackwater who had not taken her eyes off the TV or moved at all. Y/n was spending time with a woman who was going to die at her hands today. If she's going to die then at least she's going to die doing what she loves; watching her shows and bitching out the closest person in reach.

She had only moved to grab the newspaper from the table on the other side of her. It was Friday's addition, Y/n could tell from the photo on the cover. She couldn't help but eye the old woman as she read the paper. It has been probably three hours and she hasn't even asked for anything to eat.

"People droppin' like flies in this shit hole."

Y/n's ears perked up, but she didn't say anything, she just let the lady talk.

"Leroy should know better not to do that shit here...especially with that corrupt sheriff around...would've had an easier time gettin' away with it in the city. Everyone in the city already does all that illegal shit so it probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Now he’s dead."

Y/n had heard that name before. She remembers vividly Lee chewing someone out on the phone and saying their name with contempt. Leroy, Leroy, Leroy. The name "Bobo" also came up in the conversation a few times. Y/n wanted to be mad at Mrs. Blackwater for referring to her husband as "corrupt" but something nagged at her to keep the conversation going for her sake.

"W-what do you mean?" Her voice cracked but it was ignored by the old woman.

"You must not be from here. Everyone knows that if you get caught up with that fat bastard sheriff you must be doin’ some awful shit. The only reason why he keeps gettin' re-elected is because everyone is scared of him. It doesn't matter how many babies that man has, he's a killer...dragging that man's body and fucking up carnations..."

No one had ever talked to Mrs. Bodecker about her husband like this. Town gossipers had the decency to wait until she left the room to say something about him. But she's not Mrs. Bodecker right now. It does not matter anyway because the old lady doesn't know what she's talking about. She hasn't spent the hours with Lee, with him being sweet and so soft with his daughter. Y/n firmly believes that if Lee did indeed kill someone then it was for a good reason. She knows her husband involves himself in dirty things, but it had to be for a good reason. Lee did not show brutality for no reason; he didn't get his rocks off on hurting innocent people.

"People can change. I'm sure he's a different man now."

"Why!? Because he got a bitch and a bastard? You are too naïve...at least the other girl they send has some more sense in her head. No man is going to want to marry a dumb girl."

An awkward silence surrounded them but it was mostly felt by Y/n. She found herself frozen with a ball of rage and anxiety in her stomach. But she had no time to dwell for much longer though.

"I'm thirsty...go make me something."

Y/n noticed Mrs. Blackwater flinching when she grabbed the remote to turn the volume higher. She either had arthritis or just pain in her hands.

"Okay...do you need to take any pills at this time?"

"My husbands gone and my children don't visit me. You think I care about taking my pills?"

Maybe Mrs. Blackwater would be kind to her if she knew Y/n was going to take her out of her misery. Breaking open the capsules and dumping it in the tea she made for her is going to do the job. She might succumb to a heart attack, or pass peacefully. The only person Y/n felt bad for was the poor nurse who was going to find her dead tomorrow morning.

-

Lee was able to leave his shift earlier than expected. Sundays are very quiet, the only thing he got up to was paperwork at the station. He could go home early to his wife, play with the girl while Y/n makes dinner, and get a nice ride from his wife while their daughter sleeps. Y/n said something about needing him to pick up some chicken stock from the grocery store.

People filled in and out of the grocery store as the sun began to set. A few people spoke to him, never for too long knowing that he's not fond of small talk. But more people being friendly with him was a good sign. Even without his sweet wife next to him, no one shied away from saying hello to the man running for Mayor.

Two boxes of chicken stock should be enough even though his wife sent him for three. The brand she likes isn’t exactly cheap. Lee promptly made his way to the cashier who greeted him with a smile.

"Good evening sheriff!" her voice was sweet and she batted her eyes a few times. Lee offered her a smile, but a small laugh escaped. This girl couldn't be younger than 20 but she fawned over him like a young school girl. Her behavior reminded him of Y/n when she was that age. "Darlene said she saw your car in the parking lot but didn't get a chance to catch Mrs. Bodecker herself."

Lee stopped caring about the items (a few snuck in there for him) being rung up. His brows furrowed and the girl realized that she had said something maybe she shouldn't have.

"My wife was here?"

"That's what Darlene said. Her shift ended right as I was coming in so I wasn't there when it happened...do you still want the chicken stock?"

"Yea yea just ring it up."

Lee's mind was too preoccupied with the weird behavior his wife has been exhibiting for the last several weeks. She often hovered over him when he was on the phone like she was interested in what he was talking about. All the swearing and terms she didn't understand kept her from asking what his loud, and often abrasive, phone conversations were about. But now she was listening a little too hard for his liking.

The only time Y/n was supposed to drive their car is if Lee told her she could or if there was an emergency. A trip to the grocery store did not fall under either of those categories. But it was particularly weird to him that she would go to the store when she told him to go himself. If she had forgotten something, she would have not hesitated to call the station. Something was up with her.

Everything felt normal as he stepped into the house. The smell of what she was cooking hit his nose and the familiar noises of his daughter babbling louder than the Y/n moving around the kitchen. If he had no questions for his wife, then he'd feel all warm inside walking into his home in this current state.

Y/n was talking to their daughter as if she was holding a real conversation with her. Their daughter started squealing when she saw Lee appear in the doorway. He put his index finger to his lips to tell her to quiet herself, but she was only louder.

"I couldn't believe it either! They said the hairdresser purposefully dyed Marie's hair darker," she spoke, thinking her daughter was just squealing because she was talking to her and not because her husband was creeping up behind her.

Hands snaked around her waist and she nearly jumped. "Oh yea? Is that what the town is gossipin' about today?" Lee's familiar voice soothed her and she turned around in his arms. She deftly kissed him and looked up at him.

"Wanna know what else I heard?" He whispered to her. Y/n nodded, a smile spreading on her face as she rested her forehead against his, "heard the sheriff's wife been out and about and driving his nice car."

Y/n's smile fell from her face, but it only made Lee smile wider.

"You wanna tell me what you were doing out?"

"I needed something from the store."

"So my task to pick up the chicken stock after work was for nothing?"

"No...I went to my parents house...didn't want to go empty-handed. You know how my mother gets."

What a sweet little liar.

But she still had the smell of an old house lingering around her so maybe it wasn’t completely a lie. Still, he knew something was up with her.

“How was work?” She quickly tried to change the subject. Lee was not really in the mood to interrogate her, it was Sunday after all. He sat down in the chair next to his daughter's high chair. She started reaching for his hat but he was too far away, so Lee rested his head on the tray and let her have her fun. Y/n was probably going to be mad at him for putting his head where she eats and getting all of his “outside germs” all over it, but he didn’t care.

“I’m tired,” he confessed, a heavy sigh escaping him, “I’m really fucking tired.”

Y/n wishes she could lift more of her husband’s burdens. Killing people who were talking about him did not get rid of the core problem. Sometimes she wishes he never decided to run for mayor. Life was so much more comfortable when he would run unopposed for county sheriff. Instead her husband had a bigger dream. From the very beginning she felt like it was a long shot that this would be successful, but they had gotten so far in changing how most of the people viewed Lee. And even though they felt a way about him, they still respected the sheriff.

“It’s going to be over soon. I promise.”

He truly wanted to believe her, but the sinking feeling that the past was going to catch up with him was not going away.

[yoonieboonie]

The Substitute Lover (1)

word count: 2k

genre: fluff, angst hehe

pairing: myg x reader

summary: Finally meeting the college boy you've been eyeing on for months, everything goes wrong when you realise what you're really getting yourself into.

a/n: this is my first ever fic!! i hope you guys take time and read it 🥺 suggestions are welcome! NEXT | PREVIOUS

Moving to Seoul was a dream come true. For someone who lived in the farmland of Daegu, you always imagined what the city would be like. A concrete jungle far from the roaring fields that's all you've ever known, a breath of fresh air— metaphorically speaking.

Fuelled by dreams, and frankly a few wons to your name— you took the risk and moved your life in order to pursue your studies in the metro. Your thoughts drift to the heaps of paperwork that needs to be accomplished after this and frankly, you are exhausted.

You sigh, as you finally step in your worn down but still livable apartment. You got it for a really good deal since your mother is a friend of the landlady. You tried your best to make it as homey as you can. Placing a few touches of home to every corner.

"What does this even mean?" you wondered aloud, reading the email for the third time as if it would magically unsend itself. It was from the professor of your Humanities class, announcing the change of schedule. Your afternoon classes are now moved to morning, taking away all of the few hours of rest you get after getting home. You groaned and moved the cursor to tick the 'agreed' box. It's not like you have a choice anyways.

You drag your feet to class the next morning, sitting to the far right corner and preventing any interaction from the fellow victims of the change in schedule. Confused if your eyes are playing tricks, your hands flew to your thick-rimmed glasses to push it further up your nose. Then you saw it, the mint green hair that stood out in every room. To say that he intrigued you is an understatement. You are drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. You keep on looking for him at every corner of the campus, just catching a glimpse of him makes your day. He as usual is squished between his two friends who are chattering in the early hours of the morning.

The professor arrived not long after, immediately discussing the basic concept of Humanities, you scramble to get a pen and your notebook. If there's one thing you take seriously, it's your studies. You did not risk everything and moved here just to slack off.

The mint hair boy suddenly forgotten, you blink in shock as an orange head snapped to view your direction.

"Hi, I'm Hoseok. May I borrow a pen?" He asks, a hand rubbing his nape. You nodded mutely handing a pen, trying to show nonchalance that he is talking to me. The interaction had the student council president, if you remember correctly, shake his head.

"What? It's not my fault that you refused to lend me one despite of bringing a whole school supply store with you all the time." Hoseok muttered to which the president tried to counter, earning a snarl from the mint haired boy in the middle to shut the banter up.

Lecture flew by and hungry for a few hours more of sleep, you dash to the exit only to hear a voice calling out a 'hey'. You turned to look and see Hoseok waving your pen in the air.

You smiled and grabbed the pen from his hand. You bowed out of respect, and turned to leave. Only for Hoseok to grab your arm, making you halt and gently pull away.

He sheepishly smiled and apologised for catching you off guard. "It's just, I didn't get your name!" he chirped.

Panic bubbled inside you as you see his two friends catch up to him. You were not prepared at all to meet the boy you've been eyeing on for months.

"Y/N." You replied shortly and bowed again as you turned to leave. It was too late as you hear a new voice address you.

"Hey, Y/N? I've been wanting to know your name for months! Aren't you the one who stole my spot as the top Scrabble player in the campus?" The student campus president joked to which you gave a hearty laugh back, remembering the match.

"That's me." You replied curtly. You really want to leave, the zoo in your stomach will be the death of you. The boy who is silent until now is busy adjusting the case of his guitar.

"Well, it's nice to meet you. This is Yoongi." he gestured to the mint haired boy who just looked up. He gave you a curt nod that shot electricity to your veins.

"Let's eat lunch together, Y/N!" Hoseok beamed, catching all of us off guard. You racked your brain for an excuse but found none. Here you are 30 minutes later, trying to answer every question Hoseok and Namjoon have for you.

You learned that all of them are voice majors, Yoongi and Hoseok minored in guitar while Namjoon in flute. They had to retake Humanities because they failed to take the final exam due to the conflict of schedule thus the need to enroll again this semester.

Quietly finishing your meal, you nod off to the trio and started to gather your things. You fixed your thick rimmed glasses and your skirt that reached your ankles. Namjoon eyed you from head to toe, not bothering to hide the judgment that came with it. You shrugged and bid goodbye.

"Thank you for the company. See you guys around." You bid and thinking that it's probably your last and only chance to talk to Yoongi, you call for him.

"See you around, Yoongi." You beamed. Hoseok roared with laughter as Yoongi blushed from the sudden attention. Namjoon watched in amusement as the whole scene plays out.

You finally, turned to leave the trio behind.

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

  After a week, it was time for your Humanities class again. This time, you arrived earlier, sitting at your usual spot.

Not long after, students started filing in the the classroom. That's when you spotted a familiar orange head. He excitedly waved at you and grabbed onto Yoongi and Namjoon's arms for them to come and sit next to you.

You laugh heartily and paid them no mind. Hoseok whispered next to you if you wanted to eat lunch again after class. You nodded, truly enjoying the trio's company. Sure, you wanted to come because Yoongi was there, but also because Namjoon and Hoseok are cool to be with.

After class, you all headed to the cafeteria. You started to line up eyeing the dishes carefully. Just watching then made your mouth water. Distracted, you bump into the person in front of you. You gasped, as you mutter an apology, profusely bowing your head. That's when you heard surprised reactions from the small crowd that noticed the interaction. Slowly you felt cold liquid drip on your head, down to your clothes.

That draws the line. You may not be from here, and you may not look like much but you surely can defend yourself. You opened your mouth to speak when you were gently shoved behind someone's shoulder. As if shielding you from the student who poured the liquid on you.

"Is there a problem here?" Namjoon's voice was cold as ice. The student, probably in fear of getting in trouble tried to pin the blame on you to which another voice countered.

"I saw you from where I was sitting. Tell the truth, it's getting embarrassing." Hoseok, who is suddenly next to you, yawns.

"It's fine. It's water, it'll dry." You said confidently, smiling at the student who looked scared for her dear life. She looks younger, so you cut her some slack.

You bought your food and sat back at our table. You could feel the three of them eyeing you as you chomp down on your first proper meal of the day. You glanced at Yoongi, who for the first time since you've met was looking at you. You beamed at him before wiping your mouth with a napkin, as you cleared your throat.

"Yoongi, would you like to have coffee tomorrow?" you asked, my hands under the table over your lap.

Hoseok and Namjoon looked shocked beyond words. Yoongi on the other hand, didn't even spare you a glance. You winced internally but kept your composure cool. Namjoon cleared his throat and pushed a bottle of water towards my direction.

"Maybe you need a drink, Y/N." You accepted and drank. Then after, you faced Yoongi again.

"Is that a yes?"

It's Hoseok's turn to intervene now, using a napkin to get your glasses from your nose and wipe it. He tried to dry your hair too but you leaned away from his touch.

"Y/N, I think it's best you let this go." Namjoon spoke again.

"Why? Are you dating anyone?" You questioned further.

That seemed to be the last straw for Yoongi for he stood up, gathered his music sheets and left the three of us, not even bothering to carry his lunch.

Hoseok looked around the table before laughing in amusement. Namjoon joining not long after. You looked at them, confused beyond words.

"You are something else, Y/N. Now I know why we were always told to not judge a book by its cover." Namjoon beamed.

Hoseok just patted your head. Both of them bidding goodbye, as Namjoon stopped to browse in his notes. He slipped a paper to you and when you glanced down, it looked like their schedule this semester.

You smiled and bid them goodbye.

  You'll try again tomorrow.

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

  The following day, you woke up earlier than usual to buy two iced Americanos. If you're lucky, Yoongi might like something to drink before their recital's daily rehearsal.

As if on cue, you hear Hoseok's loud laughter at the campus yard and as expected Yoongi and Namjoon are there with him. You raise your hand and wave towards them as you see Yoongi's eyes darken.

You paid no mind and dragged your feet towards the trio. You stopped in front of them, fixing your glasses and smoothing out your green cardigan. Namjoon like his usual habit, eyed you up and down and scrunched his nose at your taste in clothes. That made you chuckle out loud.

"Hi, Yoongi. I bought you an iced Americano." I offered, handing out the cold beverage. He eyed it carefully, before accepting it and shoving it to Hoseok's face.

Hoseok winced and looked at you apologetically. You shook your head and smiled.

"That's okay, I didn't peg you as an Americano guy anyway. How about an iced Latte for tomorrow?" you quipped, not giving up.

"Look, Y/N, isn't it?" Yoongi started. "I do appreciate the gesture but I am not interested. I am taken, and will never be available."

You felt your shoulder slump. That makes sense, with how he looks and the entirety of him, it was impossible for him to be single. You nodded and started to apologise when you heard Hoseok chirp beside you.

"No he's not!"

  "Hoseok!" Namjoon hissed. Hoseok shrugged his shoulders and dragged you away. With one last look at Yoongi, you followed Hoseok.

"Look, I'll help you. Just tell me what you need." Hoseok bounced with excitement. You laughed, you honestly didn't think you'd get this far.

"It's okay, I got this." You whispered to Hoseok.

"Hey, Min Yoongi!" you called out. He turned to look at you and you raised your hand to point at the bulletin board. He quipped his head to the side as if challenging you to continue. You sighed and moved closer to the board to point at the upcoming examination schedule.

"Our finals is coming up soon." You stated.

  "If I beat you and score higher than you, then we'll go on that date. Otherwise, you'll never hear from me again." You challenged.

Namjoon whistled at that, onlookers started to get interested and eventually started to taunt Yoongi. You smirk and wait for his response.

Hoseok and Namjoon are in the sidelines, watching and honestly enjoying their friend's struggle. Hoseok lazily drinking the iced Americano that you bought for Yoongi.

Yoongi stayed silent and you took that as your cue to leave, only a few steps in, you turned and moved closer to a glaring Yoongi.

"Oh, I forgot something!" you exclaimed.

You then stalked towards him, grabbing both of his collar towards you. Eliminating the height difference, you inched your face closer to his until your lips met. It was a quick peck but just enough to make the crowd roar and make Yoongi burn red in embarrassment.

You slowly took a step back. Bidding Namjoon and Hoseok goodbye.

What the fuck did you just do? -------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[iknowicanbutwhy]

Heads up we got an

Adult Hikikomori Sunny AU

I've been waiting to find an AU after the neutral end of the Hikikomori route for a while. What happened to Sunny? How did his life go on after that? Did he go to college? Did he get a fulltime job? Did he figure out what he wants in life?

these are all very good questions because literally anything could be the case. So this AU is just gonna be stuck in a hospital setting for a while.

Here's what I got so far:

Past:

Hospital Psychiatrist (practicing? Training?) Doctor Hero

I imagine after Basil's death, Hero would (eventually) turn to learning how to identify and help people with suicidal tendencies, if he's gonna be a doctor anyway.

In a choice between psychologist and psychiatrist, Hero went psychiatrist. Hero's parents would pressure him into getting a more lucrative job. PLUS psychiatrists go to college for 8 years, then take four more of psychiatry residency. Hero might feel just a little more accomplished, just a little better about himself for earning a higher degree, just to reassure himself that he's working hard and doing his best towards helping people.

Hero did extra studying in psychotherapy. He tried doing it at the same time as he did medical college. He's not.. the best at it because of that, for several reasons, but he knows it's better to combine medicine and conversation. When he has his head on straight, he can manage it.

I have.. no idea whether to put Hero into practice or residency. He'd have to be at least around.. 31, if he were in practice. That's a long time to have unresolved trauma. That's a nice hunk of research i gotta do.

That's it that's all for Hero. His goals are set in the present and focused around other people, as per usual.

Sunny is... not doing so well. He lied about going to college when he moved into some hole far away from his mother. He has no reason to get up in the morning when he can just lie around. He doesn't enjoy whatever hobbies he used to have.

He doesn't even know Basil is gone and he's so bad off.

He's honestly convinced himself that he doesn't care about anything. He still cares about people, however. He'd have stayed with his mom and burdened her with himself if he didn't. When they had moved from Faraway, it was to a cheaper, smaller place. That meant Sunny's mom didn't have to work so much. That meant more time with Sunny. He decided it was.. preferable not to stay.

The only times he does anything is when he tries to remember the past and relearn the person he used to be. What did he do? What did he like? He'd play games, and read comics, and would get frustrated? move on to something else when those did nothing for him, searching for.. some feeling to occur. And then he'd question why, why, why.

Why can't he enjoy anything? Why does he want to feel enjoyment? Why can't he just do something and be happy? Why can't he just do nothing and be fine? Why does he need to exist? Why does he want to move? Why does he want, but can never have, can never get by himself?

If there's nothing he can do, then what is he waiting for?

Vague memories would become clearer with introspection, until he would feel something, finally. An old guilt aching from deep inside his bones. A haunting self hatred, ripping away whatever minuscule strength his limbs had to try anything fun. A sense of iron resignation blanketing and anchoring his body, reminding him that it's much too late to try getting up now. Ironically, apathy got him up in the morning, as much as it keeps him from enjoying anything enough to stay up.

He was always a little too thin, but he used to force himself to do things like eat and work enough to survive. Mostly because to sleep means to not have headaches, and to not have headaches means to eat well enough, and to eat well enough means to have food, and to have food means to have money from a job.

But it's not as if he was all too desperate to sleep, anyway. His dreams have stayed the same for years. They're more eventful and colorful than bland reality, but it's a mix of the same thing every day. Staring at the swirling kaleidoscope of his dreams is exactly like observing the same beige ceiling for hours on end, until it all mixes together into the same shade of empty grey.

It probably doesn't help Sunny's mood that he thinks dramatic things like the previous point, just to pass time.

He only got worse once he was forced to move into one of those really bad apartments. You know the ones, with the rusted metal stairs nobody wants to risk their life on, and practically no privacy with four-to-five thin-walled neighboring rooms, and bad heating in one corner of the apartment. But it was cheap. Too bad he had to go up and down the stairs all the time.

He didn't have a problem with them when he just moved in. Generally, the most he notices is starting at the top, teleporting to the bottom, and a slight shaking of his hands that he barely glances at with empty curiosity.

As it is, some part of him knew this was going to happen. That he'd have one of those terribly introspective weeks, when he just so happens to have his new job with a boss ready to fire him and his sullen face and poor (somehow complete neutrality is offensive) attitude. He's emotionally vulnerable, and the memories on top of the stairs are devastating.

A week goes by. He's fired. He doesn't look for another job. He hasn't gone for groceries in a while. He's exhausted.

He was waiting for death, he guesses. He still wants, still feels that urge in the buzzing of his fingertips, the ghost of movement from his limbs, the phantom shiver in his back - the intent of every muscle in his body one after the other pleading with him to move, but never all at once - and Sunny laments that the human body is pretty stupid. Moving wont help. What would he do, make the end come quicker? He's already thrown away too many chances for that.

He'll stop wanting once he's gone. That's what happens when you get what you want, right?

His landlord finds him. He forgot the rent. He's taken to the hospital. Ugh.

Present:

Sunny is stunted and underweight. He wears baggy shirts stuffed into slightly less baggy hoodies, and sweats. Warmth. He couldn't find his hoodie after they took it off to put in an IV on his first trip to the hospital.

Usually nurses do things like bring food to patients, but Sunny only ever interacts with Hero and Hero wants to make sure Sunny is okay anyway. Not that it's much easier for Hero to encourage Sunny to eat.

Sunny stresses Hero the hell out. But Hero kinda missed Sunny, and his depressing and concerning reappearance brings with it a deadpan, world-weary, often childish humor that fails to take anything seriously when everything in Sunny's situation should be taken seriously. It's as much a relief as it is incredibly frustrating. Some days Hero loves it. Some days it makes him angry. Some days it makes him want to cry.

I tried doing research into the conduct Hero should display regarding patients/clients in general but it just. Any professionalism quickly devolves between him and Sunny.

As in, at one point, him and Sunny were whaling on each other about having no lives. Hero felt really bad afterwards; he had no idea what came over him. It was a great way for both of them to let out some hidden frustration, though, and they turned out fine afterwards. They even lowkey pick on each other every now and again.

Sometimes one or the other gets a bit too accurate in their teasing, however.

Psychiatrists are supposed to be able to understand, diagnose, and treat mental, emotional and behavioral disorders. So, if Hero were a completely capable psychiatrist, which he is, he wouldn't break down in front of his client. But Hero's late teenage years are wrought with so much grief and trauma, so to see Sunny and not just another client in this state is.. something i imagine he'd break down about eventually. There's also the fact that Sunny is mostly closed off to any help, which only makes things harder.

Hero is trying his best, but after years of never understanding why Mari died, years of thinking and wondering and second-guessing himself, years of guilt after never visiting Basil before he died, years of doing what he was told was "best" yet failing in what's most important to him (his friends) - his best never feels good enough around Sunny. It feels too little, too late. For this reason, and possibly because even if Hero were able to keep himself together he may just not be the right psychiatrist for Sunny, it would be better for him to find another psychiatrist for Sunny. He won't, though.

Hero really needs some time to himself to just think, or perhaps he needs someone else to talk to. Kel is nice, but Aubrey would have better experience handling emotions.

I have a very limited idea of what Aubrey and Kel are doing. Aubrey is a childcare instructor to parents and works in child services. She has studied child psychology. She has studied how childhood affects adulthood. Kel's off trying to make a name in basketball while giving kids high fives and heartfelt support.

Hero, in fact, does not like to be called Dr. Hero, but his shyness (feeling of unworthiness) about it only endears everyone to call him that more. He tells the kids that everyone calls him Hero, but the adults merely find out from the other doctors and nurses. Hero tried introducing himself as Henry to the other doctors, but Kel told them his nickname, and it stuck for obvious reasons.

Sometimes, on days when Hero has to wear his lab coat, he ties it around his neck like a cape. The kids like it, say it makes him look like a superHero.

Hero doesn't really cook. His schedule is always too busy to make anything that isn't quick. But he does eventually figure out that cooking for Sunny is the best way to entice him to eat, so when he makes something, he makes enough for both of them. They eat together.

Hero had to gather Sunny's change of clothes from his apartment when he found out that the reason Sunny has been in the same clothes for the last week is because he's had no one to visit him. Not even his mother. Why?

[addictofsupernatural]

Secret Barista

Katsuki Bakugo x reader

Summary: Y/n is too embarrassed to tell anyone about her job, but her crush knows something's up.

Word Count: 3.0k

UA was not cheap. It needed to get extra funds from somewhere, so admissions fees were charged. It was a fancy school, which meant it came with a fancy price tag. Your parents didn't have the kind of money to just pay for it, so they told you that you had to earn your spot if you wanted to be there.

You didn't want to tell anybody about your job, especially not when some of your classmates come from important and rich families. The only one who would most likely understand was Uraraka, but her parents were lucky enough to get a loan. Yours weren't.

So there you were, uniform in your backpack, walking down the common areas. "Oi, loser," Bakugo said, leaning back on one of the couches. "Where the hell are you going?"

Then there was Bakugo. You had a huge crush and was absolutely smitten with him for some time now. Ever since that day he quietly gave you tips on how to improve your fighting stance before silently walking away, you knew he was a nice person deep down.

"Hey Baku," you childishly waved at him, even though you were three feet away from him. "What're you doing here alone?"

"Shitty hair should be coming soon."

"Mm. Study buddy?"

He gave you a tch. "Yeah." He mumbled.

"Well look at you." You teased. You leaned on the couch opposite from him. "Aren't you just the nicest person. Helping out your friends and all."

"Heh, yeah right. Shitty hair's been whining and shit about his grades, and I just want him to shut up for once."

"Hm, I see. Well, remember, nice deeds means you're a hero at heart, so I don't think it's so bad to be secretly sweet." He gave you a blank expression, which you took as a win since there was no longer a scowl there. You then checked your phone. "Oh, gotta go. Bye bye!"

"Hey, you never answered my questions stupid!"

"I'm just going out!" You called out, leaving him there to be annoyed. He could see right through your lie. Why were you lying to him? You were the one who insisted that the two of you were best friends, and yet you also had the nerve to keep something from him?

That night you got some bad news. There was new management, and they wanted people to work longer shifts. Those who didn't were going to gradually just stop getting shifts altogether, since they weren't dedicated enough. That meant you were going to have to go on less sleep from now on.

The next night Bakugo saw you leaving again, and this time decided he was going to question you about it. Except you came back way later than he thought. You were trudging yourself through the doors damn near one in the morning.

Bakugo stood up from the couch and crossed his arms. "Where the hell have you been?!"

"Bakugo? You usually sleep early. Why are you up so late?"

"That's what I'm asking you idiot! Do have any idea how late you are?! There's a curfew!"

"Please don't yell. And don't worry, I have a permission note signed by the principal." You sounded exhausted. You then took a step closer, putting your hands on his shoulders. "Please listen. I've had a really bad night and I just want it to end. When I'm ready to tell you about what's going on, I will. Promise."

He could tell how tired you were, and felt kind of bad about it. He slightly nodded, mumbling, "Okay."

You smiled. "Thanks Bakugo. I knew you were my best friend." You then let him go and began walking to your dorm. "Good night."

"...Night."

Throughout the next week Bakugo could tell that you were getting more and more tired. You didn't smile as much and you began to eat less. Bakugo hated it. It was worrying him. He didn't know how he was supposed to help you without making it obvious to everyone else that he was crushing on you.

That was until the Monday in Aizawa's class. You two were sitting on a bench outside waiting for your turns in the exercises, when he felt you lean on his arm. He looked down to see you sleeping against him. He only stared at you, not daring to move and possibly wake you up. That was until Kirishima and Kaminari began snickering at the sight.

"What the hell is so funny?!"

You then stirred awake, and Bakugo wanted to punch himself for blowing that moment. You brought your head up and gave him a sleepy smile, rubbing his arm. "Oh, I'm sorry Katsuki."

Sometimes you called him by his first name, usually when you weren't really thinking normally. Bakugo felt like it would make sense if he said something about it, but he liked the way it sounded coming from you.

"Whatever. Sleep at night loser."

You playfully hit his shoulder and let out a teasing gasp. "I've been doing it wrong this whole time. See, I told you you're a genius."

He gave you a small smile in return, which was cut short due to Kaminari walking up to you two. "Y/l/n, you look exhausted."

You chuckled. "Wow, are my eye bags that bad?"

He only nervously shook his head in response after seeing Bakugo's death glare. Kirishima, who wasn't afraid of Bakugo, spoke up for his friend. "It's not that bad. Tea is a good way to relieve stress that causes them."

You nodded. "Good to know, thanks."

The next day in class you walked over to your desk in the back to find a cup of tea there. On the cup, it had nice writing on it. Don't sleep on anymore people. Instead of a name being signed, there was just a drawing of a grenade.

You grinned and happily drank it during class. Once class was over you two walked to the cafeteria together. He was dead silent and kept looking straight ahead, which meant it was your duty to start the conversation.

"So, there's this really awesome hero. Total badass and secretly super nice to me. His name is Dynamite, so if you see him can you tell him that he's amazing for me?" He finally looked at you, and you smiled in response. "Hi."

"Hey." He mumbled.

"Thank you."

He had his blank expression on. "Sure." It was almost inaudible.

You went to your spot in the cafeteria and sat next to each other as usual. While you were waiting for Kirishima and Kaminari to come back with their lunch, Bakugo plopped a container full of food in front of you. "What's this?"

"Your lunch. Eat." He stared at his own meal as he said this, already eating it.

You giggled. "What's up with the amazing gifts today?" Instead of answering, he only shot you a glare and kept eating. "No reason I should know about?" You teased, though he looked away from you. You patted his back playfully. "That's okay, you're still the best."

The other two boys showed up and began talking with you about the day, with Bakugo only making a comment here and there. He was about to say something, but fell silent when he saw you put the lid back on the container with half the food still uneaten. He didn't notice as you waved to the two boys leaving for their next class.

"Oi, what the hell?!" You turned to him with a confused look on your face, which only ticked him off even more. "I didn't cook you food for you to just throw it away!"

"Oh, I'm not throwing it away." You nervously laughed. "I, um, actually have a smaller appetite now, but I was gonna save it for dinner. It was really good." You nudged him with your shoulder. "You're a really great cook."

He gave you a tiny smile, though that smile went right away as the bell rang. "Whatever. Move your ass."

You walked in silence and grinned stupidly. "I like your smile—"

"Shut up." You giggled in response.

Over the week Bakugo had brought you lunch everyday, as well as tea twice. Whenever you tried thanking him he would brush you off. He was just glad that you were smiling more. But you were also still exhausted. He scolded you when you asked for his notes, which you never do, but immediately stopped when you shut down and apologized quietly. He couldn't wait for you to tell him what was wrong anymore, he needed to find out himself.

You didn't notice the next night when he followed you, or when he saw you go into the back of a coffee shop. He inspected the place. It was usually busy due to tourists in the area. He went inside and took a seat, not long before you came out with a work uniform on.

You had a job. If you were hiding it from him, then that meant that there was an embarrassing reason for having the job. Was it money problems?

His thoughts were cut off by a guy with the manager name tag yelling at this girl. He was going on about how worthless her working there was and to not waste his time and money anymore. He then pushed his way to the back, bumping you on the way and almost causing you to spill your drink.

He decided not to yell at the manager, though he had a very strong urge to, in order to spare you your pride. He went back to the dorms building and waited for what felt like forever for you to come back. You came in slouching, absolutely drained from the day. That was when you saw Bakugo standing there, arms crossed with a scowl on his face.

"Katsuki, what are you doing up? Can you not sleep? I have some medicine if you're feeling too sick to—"

"You have a job."

That woke you up. You knew he wouldn't make such random statements without evidence. You looked down to your feet. "...You found out."

"That's why you've been always tired lately. Why do you have that job?"

"Can we please talk about this another—"

"No. Why do you have that shitty job?"

You bit your lip. "Can you turn around first?" He just stared at you. Your voice sounded like you were going to cry. "Please?"

He hesitantly turned around. "Okay. Now you have to answer."

You nodded. "Okay. I, um, I have to keep this job. My parents can't afford the admissions fee for UA. If I want to be here, I need to earn it."

He fought the urge not to look back and tell at you for such an absurd comment. "You earned being at this school by being accepted."

You shook your head and took a shaky breath. "That's not what I mean. I need to earn being here to my parents. They don't expect me to just pick a fancy school and not worry about the consequences for them. That's just disrespecting them. Ugh, this is really humiliating for me, especially in front of you! There are other people here with big families that show respect their parents by being here. And here I am feeling like I'm gonna cry because it feels like I'm driving myself crazy and I can't stop going 100% all the time without failing at everything I've been working towards."

He heard your whimper, and sucked up all of his pride when he said, "Close your eyes."

"Huh?"

"Just close them."

You covered your face with your hands. "Okay. They're closed." You suddenly felt hands come and move your arms to take off your backpack. Strong arms then wrapped around you, bringing you into a muscular chest. You felt a chin rest on the top of your head. He was hugging you. You wrapped your own arms around his waist, closing your eyes and whispering, "I'm just so tired Katsuki."

He rubbed your back soothingly, and you calmed your breathing. "I'll fix this." He said after a long silence.

"What?"

You tried to look up at him, but he squeezed you tighter, silently asking you not to. You chose to not press about it. He didn't like showing anyone his softer side, and you didn't want to embarrass him.

"Thank you. I really needed this." You then brought back your hands to cover your eyes. "Don't worry. I'll count to ten so you can leave. Is that okay?"

"Heh." You could only imagine if he was smiling. "Yeah." He paused before saying, "Good night."

"Good night!" You grinned. When you opened your eyes you didn't see him there. You happily picked up your backpack and went to your dorm.

The next day the weekend started. You asked Bakugo if he wanted to hang out, but he told you he had something to do with his family. But he hated hanging around his cousins. You were starting to get worried that you screwed up your friendship. So you were left with only your paranoia to keep you company all day.

On Sunday there was a sudden knock at your door, and when you answered Bakugo was looking at you expectantly. "Get ready. We're going to my house."

"Um, okay?" You hoped he would elaborate, but he just nodded and walked away. You got out of your pajamas and walked to the common area, where he was waiting for you. "So why are we going there?"

"Is there a problem with my house?"

"No, but—"

"Then just trust me idiot!" You only nodded. You both walked in silence, and he bursted through the door. "Oi, we're here!"

You had only been to Bakugo's house twice. The first time was to help him bake sweets for his family's Christmas meal. The second time was for his birthday, and you were with Kaminari and Kirishima. You loved it there, and you loved his parents.

"Your daughter's here!" You grinned as you poked your head into the kitchen.

"Hey! Long time no see!" Mitsuki smiled. You ran into her hug. She ruffled your hair and pinched your cheeks.

"Did you miss me?" You giggled out.

"I missed your cooking. My son's going to burn the house down without you here."

"Shut up you old hag!"

As the two started arguing, Masaru walked into the kitchen. "Hi Mr. Bakugo!"

"Welcome back y/n." He gently patted your head. "Cookies?"

"Cookies!" You made grab hands at the container he took out of a cupboard. He opened it for you as you took one out, taking a bite and nodding in satisfaction. "You're the best at making this stuff Mr. Bakugo."

"Thanks y/n. Could you please come to the living room for me?"

You happily followed him. "Anything for you my father." He chuckled.

Your smile went away as soon as you saw your parents sitting on the couch. You respectfully bowed.

"Did you get tired of working?" Your mother asked. You shook your head. "Then you shouldn't be going around complaining to everyone. It's like you're trying to get other families to pity you, which embarrasses us!"

"But I wasn't—"

"Speak," She silenced you. "When told to."

Mitsuki came from behind you and put a hand on your shoulder. "Take my son to his room for me kiddo."

You nodded and quickly left with Bakugo to his room. Once you closed the door, Bakugo let out a tch. "Your parents get on my nerves."

"Baku, what's going on?"

He plopped on his bed and laid down in a nonchalant-like way. "They're gonna give your annoying ass parents a loan. That way you'll quit your shitty ass job. No more taking crap from that manager."

"But what if they get mad and pull me out of school?!"

"Keh. When has my old hag of a mom ever learned to take no for an answer?"

You grinned and sighed in relief before patting his stomach. "Scoot over." He did so with his unreadable expression. You laid next to him and the two of you faced each other. "Thank you Bakugo. You're my hero."

He smirked. "I know that already dumbass."

"If there's any way I can repay you or if I can do anything for you, just say the word."

His smile faded. "If you really mean it..."

You grinned and nodded. He put his hand over your eyes. "Are we hugging again?"

"No."

Before you could question him he brought his lips to yours. He was hesitant about pressing further, but did so and kissed you a little roughly. It was sloppy and inexperienced, making it all the better. You moved your hand to the back of his neck to press on with the kiss, and his hand went from your eyes to getting tangled in your hair.

You both pulled back for air as you rested your foreheads on one another. "I've been craving Tai food." He suddenly said. "Tommorow, at 11."

You chuckled. "Hm, are you asking or commanding?"

He grinned. "Commanding."

You giggled. "That's not how that works."

"Then, can I ask you something?" He mumbled. You sat up and patted him to get up as well, him doing so. You nodded. "Will you be my girlfriend?" He looked away from you, muttering, "Please?"

You grinned, nodding and kissing him. "That was perfect." You said against his lips. "Thank you Bakugo." You then excitedly gasped and leaned back. "So can I call you Katsuki from now on then?!"

He yanked you into a hug. "You always could idiot."

You hugged back, only separating from him when you heard footsteps. It was your dad. "Quit your job, and don't worry about it."

You kept a straight face. "Thank you sir." He nodded and closed the door.

You looked back to Bakugo and threw yourself into a hug with him. He brought your head up and smirked. "Good, cause I'll be pissed if you fall asleep on our date tomorrow."

---

Author's Note: This is my first MHA fic. I hope I wrote Bakugo good. ╮(. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)╭

[girlpornparadise]

The Caged Bird Moans (pt 1)

Pairing: Diego Jimenez/f!Reader (Power - Starz)

Word Count: ~2600

Warnings:  It's a bit Stockholm syndromey, but that's not a real thing anyway (look it up). Not exactly non-con, but it skirts the idea, so if power disparities aren't your jam, please move along. It just real dirty. SMUT!

Personal ramble: Would anyone actually react like this to the situation I've set forth? No. But just as the pizza guy is never hot and doesn't offer you his extra sausage, this is porn people! So suspend your disbelief and don't hate on me for my bullsh*t.

I also wrote all this nonsense a week ago before I read anything from the lovely @1zashreena1 , @heresathreebee or @nicke0115 so sorry if it looks similar, I swear it's a coincidence.

"Ouch", you think to yourself but instead swallow the pain. Your arm hurts under the firm grasp of the thug dragging you from the elevator into the spacious penthouse.

"Be careful with that." Says a commanding voice from across the room.

The grip loosens, but he's still using your momentum to force you forward. You stumble, unsure of just how much danger you are in.

As you take in your surroundings the owner of the voice turns around and approaches you. He looks you up and down, examining you like a prize he had won.

"We can't afford to damage her." He states plainly, looking at the man still holding you in place.

As he examines you, you examine him right back. Whereas he is doing it in an obvious way, head nodding to rake his eyes over you, you move your eyes only, unable to control your body in this moment. You follow the carefully polished boots up past the fitted black jeans to the black buttoned up shirt with the slight sheen to it, that accentuates his frame. Everything is obviously expensive and very deliberately chosen. As your eyes settle on his face, a recognization dawns on you. Diego Jimenez. One of the heads of the Jiminez cartel. His reputation was well known to you. An unstable, merciless man whose penchant for partying made him a big name in certain circles. You were scared before, but now your body goes rigid with fear and your gaze hits the floor with force.

Though you're no longer looking at him directly you can sense his smugness and satisfaction at knowing you are now showing the appropriate amount of fear for the situation you're in. Maybe it's your hind brain telling you you are in the presence of an apex predator. Maybe it was the clipped snort he let out, tinged with amusement as he nodded with approval.

After what feels like an eternity, but was probably mere seconds, he speaks again.

"Take her to the guest room." He orders the man still firmly gripping your arm. "Lock this little bird in her cage."

Dragging you again, this time down the hall, Diego's orders are followed to completion. You are practically thrown into the room as the door slams shut behind you.

You stumble, catching yourself on the bed. You collapse onto it as tears prick your eyes and subsequently fall down your cheeks. You begin to sob, but muffle it in the covers, assuming someone is standing guard outside and not wanting to seem even weaker in such an intense situation. But the tears flow freely as the shock of what's happened slowly wears off and you begin to process the details of your abduction.

You hadn't grown up in this world, though your ties to it were strong. You were part of the Bennet family, a rival cartel, headed by your grandfather. He insisted you grow up distanced from this world. A world of violence and cruelty. A world of drugs and guns and transactions ending in death. Based on your current reaction, you couldn't help but think maybe it was because you're so weak. Both you and he knew it was true, you were too soft to be a part of the business, too kind to do what would be required of you. So he kept you away, from his city and his dealings and all of the darkness that came with it.

You were in town for a rare family visit when you were taken without warning, snatched from the street at gunpoint. They were able to do it without drawing attention, entirely professional, and you complied with their every demand as a sense of terror ripped through you.

And now here you were, trapped by a barbarous stranger who could end your life at any moment without a second thought.

As you wore yourself out from crying, you began to take in the room, determined to get your bearings. It was sparsely decorated, obviously the work of a man unattached. It was also immaculately clean, obviously the work of his maid. As your breathing slows and your senses sharpen, you become aware that the comforter you are still on top of is plush and expensive, like the kind found at a swanky hotel.

Curiosity returning with your senses, you walk over to the window that stretches from floor to ceiling and take in the impressive view of the city. If the long elevator ride weren't a clear enough indicator, the view tells you that you are in the penthouse of a very upscale building.

Next to the window is a large bathroom and you walk in. You splash cold water on your face and dry it on one of the plush towels. You can't help be momentarily amused by how well stocked the room is with soaps and lotions. There were definitely worse places to be trapped. Was this the definition of a gilded cage?

As you settle down, you take off your shoes and sit back down on the bed. You're exhausted to your core, and you sink into the mattress, wanting to disappear. You want to keep your wits about you, alert and on guard, but instead the stress combined with the late hour forces you to sleep.

You are woken up abruptly the following morning when the door swings open and you are literally dragged out of bed by the same man as yesterday. 

You're a bleary eyed, rumpled mess and the same fear and pain shoot through you as you remember where you are and how you got there. Your breathing is shallow as you try not to panic.

You've been dragged before Diego who is standing imposingly before you, hands clasped in front of him, chin slightly upward so he can look down his nose at you.

He examines you once more and you can tell he's disgusted by what he sees.

"Get our guest something to wear." He barks. "And get her something to eat. We can't bargain if she's broken."

As he turns away from you to resume whatever you interrupted, you catch the flash of the gun in his waistband and the fear settles once again in the pit of your stomach.

You are escorted back to the room forcefully and your mind is racing. You know everyone who comes through the penthouse is armed to the teeth and there's no chance of escape. You're not just weak, you're helpless. You assume you're being held for some kind of ransom, probably territory or resources as opposed to money, and you silently pray that a deal for your release is struck quickly so this nightmare can be over.

Soon after, the door opens and a housekeeper enters carrying a couple of bags of clothes. She doesn't look you in the eye and you wouldn't know what to say to her anyway. 

Once she has left, you rummage through the clothes. There's nothing there you'd pick for yourself, but you settle on a white fitted t-shirt and jeans. You carry them with you into the bathroom along with a handful of drugstore makeup you find in the bottom of the bag.

You look at yourself in the mirror and the reason for Diego's revulsion becomes clear. Your clothes are wrinkled and creased and your mascara is smudged under your eyes. You lock the bathroom door behind you, strip down and take a shower. The running water calms you and once you finish you get dressed and approximate your normal makeup routine with what you have. If you're going to put on a brave front, you need to be as put together as possible.

When you emerge from the bathroom a tray of breakfast is waiting on the nightstand next to the bed. Eggs sunny side up and toast, simple and straightforward. You devour it greedily since you haven't eaten since lunch yesterday.

The day passes with 2 more meals brought to you by the same housekeeper at the appropriate intervals. In the absence of your phone, you distract yourself with mindless TV on the rather large set opposite the bed. You don't take in much as you think about your predicament and then try to force those thoughts of the worst case scenario from your mind.

Your sleep that night is restless.

You are brought before Diego once again in the morning, shortly after you wake. 

This time you are allowed to walk under your own power, though your legs feel wobbly and your feet unsure as you approach him.

You're wearing a cotton t-shirt and shorts,  the closest thing you could find to pajamas. As he looks at you, you become painfully aware that you're not wearing underwear, his eyes seeming to stop at all the places where it should be.

You are at least able to look at him and take in more this time. He's clad in a similar black button up shirt and black jeans as yesterday, a uniform of sorts to convey his status. His hair is neatly cut and accentuates his angles, sharp jaw and well placed cheekbones. His greying facial hair gives him some earned distinction and his expression is hard and deliberate to elicit a specific reaction of fear. Through the careful tailoring of his shirt you can see that his body is sturdy and muscular. His tense posture using his frame to his advantage, making him seem larger than he actually is. You know to fear him, but he may be the most attractive man you've ever seen in real life.

He obviously cultivates an aura of power, and you can't help but be drawn to him as an Alpha Male. As you steel yourself, you dare to look him in the eyes. His eyes are cold but impossibly magnetic and you can't look away. He's looking back at you now, into you. Your heart forgets how to beat in rhythm and you swallow thickly.

He sees your fear and is clearly amused by it.

"Breakfast will be ready soon. You should go take a shower." He says, his lips curling upwards. 

"I, I was going to." you stammer.

"Good girl." It comes out as almost a purr and sends a shiver down your spine.

This time it's Diego, not his associate who accompanies you back to the bedroom. His hand is hovering above the small of your back, ushering you forward while maintaining a small distance. You enter the room and the lock clicks behind you.

You turn to see that he's still in the room and with his gaze set upon you, you begin to back away towards the bathroom,  afraid to turn your back on him. This was clearly his intended effect.

You expect him to leave, but he's doing the opposite. He is stalking forward. Your heart is pounding out of your chest and your uneven breathing becomes gulping for air.

As he closes the gap between your bodies, he repeats his suggestion. "You should go take a shower." It's not a suggestion though, it's a command.

He leans in. "Go on." His lips are close enough to your ear that his breath catches in your hair.

His thick body is now urging you through the bathroom doorway by its approach. You back through it, still transfixed by his gaze. 

You glance side eyed to your left at the shower that takes up the far wall. It's one of those large walk-in showers with a stone floor and a rain showerhead. It suddenly seems less like a shower and feels more like a trap about to spring shut.

"Take off your clothes." He says. He's not asking.

You gulp, your eyes have gone wide at the demand.

"Take. Off. Your. Clothes." He repeats in a tone that is both amused and losing patience. He raises his eyebrows slightly as he says it.

You look away, ashamed, and slowly and nervously acquiesce. You stand before him completely naked and try to avert your gaze. You are drawing your body inward, trying to conceal yourself in any way you can.

"Turn on the water." he says with his wicked smile widening.

You turn on the shower and wait for it to warm. It dawns on you that there's no shower curtain to protect you or glass wall to hide behind. You are fully exposed and will remain so.

You step under the water, unsure of what to do next. You'd obviously showered hundreds of times, but this wasn't a shower. It was a show.

"Wash yourself." His voice is quieter, more of a harsh whisper.

You grab a washcloth and pump the foaming body wash onto it. You rub it on the back of your neck and slowly work your way down to your shoulders. Your nerves have subsided a little as the water washes over your skin.

He's mesmerized by the motion of your hands and you drag the washcloth across your collarbones and down to your breasts, where you languidly rub them with the cloth as well as your free hand.

Your nipples harden at your own touch. He notices and his tongue drags over his bottom lip. You close your eyes in an attempt to momentarily escape.

When you open your eyes you notice him shift his weight and catch a glimpse of the shift in his muscles under his shirt. You get a rush as you feel the power dynamic shift slightly. You are slow to rub the washcloth down your legs and you arch your back slightly as you bend over, purposely sticking out your ass more than you naturally would. 

His eyes are dark with lust and you can feel the warmth radiating from between your own legs.

"Rub your clit." He says, reclaiming his power.

You look at him with shocked eyes and your eyebrows knit.

"You heard me." he says. "I won't ask again." His head tilting slightly.

You put the washcloth aside and tentatively slide your middle finger between your thighs to your bundle of nerves. You notice how wet you already are and using gentle pressure you begin to rubbing in circles.

You close your eyes and swallow as your walls contract and release. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier until you're panting. Panting and touching yourself for this fixated man. 

"Cum for me." He demands. "I need to see you cum." 

You think to fake an orgasm. To end this little game he's playing, but it's too late. Your finger presses harder on your clit and you tremble as the real thing rips through you. You close your eyes and cry out with abandon.

When you regain yourself you look at him. You are raw and exposed and at your most vulnerable. His mouth is in a wide smile and his eyes gleam with satisfaction. 

He reaches out to you, towel in hand. You steady yourself, turn off the water, and take the towel from him. You wrap it around yourself, suddenly panged with shame at how readily you revealed your most intimate self to this menacing stranger. Your posture closes, and reflects your return to shyness.

"Good girl." He says, and you feel the words like honey dripping in your ears.

He turns and leaves, his confident stride drawing your attention to how his jeans hug his perfect behind. 

You dry yourself off and as you get to your inner thighs you're reminded of how wet you are. How wet you are for him. You want to blame the shower, but you know the truth. You're spellbound by this man, and god are you in trouble.

[smutnug]

The Ruins

Returning late and weary from the Bannorn, it was morning before Alistair discovered the note. A worn scrap of parchment tucked in the frame of Briony's dresser, it was a fiddly thing to unravel. 

The ruins.

"How long has this been here?" he asked Winston. The dog thumped his tail softly. "We've been gone a week and it's midwinter. Couldn't she hide somewhere warmer?" 

He fumbled about for clothing: all his travel garb had been whisked away for cleaning last night. "Serviceable?" 

Winston looked away. 

"Yes, the jerkin's a bit flowery. But it's warm."

The mabari huffed through his nose. 

"It's not you I need to impress, you know." Alistair's fingers found the hidden catch. "This tunnel's going to be all cobwebby again, isn't it? Ugh." He fastened a heavy cloak around his shoulders. "You'd better stay here, old man. It's a long way down."

Winston grumphed. Please, his look seemed to say. I am a Mabari. 

"Well yes, you traipsed halfway around Ferelden. But that was a long time ago." The dog looked him up and down and raised a grizzled eyebrow. "Now that is just rude," Alistair admonished. "Fine, you can come. I won't carry you back, though."

The way was darker than he remembered, and more uneven. Lonelier, too: even the Mabari couldn't replace Briony's comforting presence. But, Maker willing, he'd see her soon… 

"If she hasn't frozen to death," he grumbled. The descent was icy; more than once his boots skidded and he found himself sliding several bumpy yards on his bottom. "Don't even say it," he warned Winston. 

The darkness stretched on, time and distance only measured by the growing cold and the complaint of his knees. He rested - for Winston's sake, you understand - and drew the cloak around him. 

"Is she home for good this time, boy?" 

The dog squeezed alongside him in the narrow passage and laid his big head on Alistair's knee. 

"No, I suppose you're right. Why sneak around if she plans to stay?" With a final scratch behind Winston's velvety ears he stood up, ignoring his protesting joints. "We'd best not waste any time then, had we?" 

An age passed. A freezing, stumbling, sliding age and then the breath in front of Alistair's face grew ever more visible. More light seeped in and the tunnel widened; at the final bend the glare was enough to make his eyes water.

"Bri?" he called uncertainly. There was no answer, but Winston bounded ahead with a speed that belied his age. 

Outside, the old arches and columns were festooned with icicles. A thin fog lay all about; Winston's paws sank in the snow as he snuffled around. He froze with a low growl. 

"What?" Alistair followed his line of sight to a half-collapsed building, little more than a round wall and part of a curving roof. Dead foliage surrounding the entrance had been recently hacked away, and as he looked a thin plume of smoke drifted out. 

"Bri?" 

"Here." The familiar voice was cracked with disuse. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm here, Alistair."

"Oh, thank the Maker," he muttered, lumbering through the snow. Heedless of stray branches that snagged on his hair and clothing, he blundered into the makeshift shelter. 

"Briony." She gave a muffled squeak as he fell and embraced her. 

"You took your time."

"I've been away. Stupid Bannorn business." Her shoulders felt frail as a bird's beneath the oiled cloak she wore. "I'm sorry," he murmured in her ear. "If I'd known -" 

"I'm joking, Alistair." She wriggled free. "Let me look at you."

"Me? Not much to see, I'm afraid." Her grey eyes flickered over his face. "You, though…you look…" 

"Tired, I know." She rubbed at a dark smudge beneath her eye. 

"I was going to say radiant." Both were true. 

Briony gave a rueful laugh. "In your wholly impartial opinion."

"I'm your husband," he said, tracing her cheekbone with a careful thumb. "I'm supposed to be partial."

Her lips were dry but warm when they met his, and parted. "Too long," he mumbled when he had a chance at breath. 

"I know." She peppered his lips with kisses, holding tightly to the front of his cloak. "Seven months?" 

"Twenty-eight weeks," he said. "Five days. But who's counting?" 

"Alistair." Their foreheads rested together, cold noses just touching. "I'm sorry I've been gone so long. It's been -" 

A low growl interrupted her. Winston stood at a distance, his brindled fur on end, fairly vibrating with intensity. 

"Winston!" said Alistair. "What's gotten into you?" 

"It's fine," Briony said wearily. She patted her leg, and the dog reluctantly crept forward to sniff her, ears pressed back against his head. "Settle, Winny." He whined, but slowly dropped to his belly. 

"What was all that about?"

Briony sighed and rubbed her eyes. It occurred to Alistair that she wasn't merely tired, but bone-weary; it seemed an effort for her merely to sit upright. 

"I should tell you where I've been."

"Come back to the palace first. We don't have to tell anyone. You can stay in Maric's rooms if you really want to remain hidden, at least you'll be warm." He squeezed her fingers. "It can wait, Bri."

"Not really." With an effort, she rose. "First I have to show you something."

Her pack and a neat pile of cookware lay nearby. Next to them, a burlap sack tied around with ropes. When she prodded it with her foot it sprang to life, wriggling and snarling. 

"Briony…" Alistair wrinkled his nose against the smell. "Is that a darkspawn? Why do you have a darkspawn in a sack?" 

She smiled ruefully. "It's just a genlock. I picked it up a few leagues away."

He stared at the squirming bundle in disgusted fascination. "Before you ask we are absolutely not keeping it."

Briony produced a knife from within her cloak. She hunched forward and carefully opened a slit in the burlap, and immediately a foul head poked through. It gnashed and floundered, spewing guttural noises up at its captors. 

"Winston knew," Alistair said slowly. 

"Yes." Briony's face was carefully blank. "He smelled it."

"But I didn't… I mean, I should have …" He sat down heavily. "I should have sensed it."

"Yes." With one swift thrust of her knife, Briony dispatched the creature. Again, standing seemed to cost her an enormous effort. "When was the last time you sensed darkspawn, Alistair?" 

"It's hard to say. I haven't spent much time around them since I left the Wardens." He scratched his beard. "You know, I really couldn't say."

She nodded. "For me, perhaps two years? I didn't notice at first. I took cues from the Wardens around me, I suppose. Then when I was out on my own…" 

"You too? So the darkspawn…have changed, somehow?" 

"No." Briony's mouth pursed. "You didn't hear the false calling, did you?" 

"No, but -" 

"Nor did I."

"Perhaps we weren't close enough."

"That's not it." She stared out into the snowy forest. "I've been in Orlais. I followed a lead from the White Spire -" 

"The Circle?" 

"Yes. To Skyhold."

"The Inquisition? They were looking for you. So you met with them?" 

"Not exactly. I didn't announce myself. I was there to speak to the former Grand Enchanter." Her eyes softened as she watched for his reaction. 

"Fiona." Small, dark and elven, with sad brown eyes. 

"You had your suspicions, I know."

"And…?" 

Her face told him all he needed to know. 

"Does she know something that will help with the Calling?" 

"In a manner of speaking." Briony clutched his shoulder, unconsciously smoothing his hair with the other hand. "Do you know she was a Grey Warden?" 

"So I've heard." He had made his enquiries, as discreetly as he could manage. "Was she, though? Could the Joining ritual have been done wrongly somehow?" It was the only explanation he could understand. 

"She was, Alistair. And then she wasn't." Briony tilted his chin, solemn grey eyes meeting his. "Thirty two years ago."

"I don't understand."

Her face etched in pain, Briony guided him to his feet. 

"I went in search of a cure, Alistair. And what I found wasn't quite what I was looking for, but it does offer hope." A tear escaped, trickling down the side of her nose. 

"Bri…"

"I don't know how to help the other Wardens, Alistair. My men and women, who fought beside me -" Her voice shook. "I wanted to save them. To keep them from death and madness. And I still don't know how."

"What did you find, Briony?" His own voice was dangerously unsteady. "What is it?" 

She stood before him, draped in a cloak of Warden blue. Exhausted, sorrowful and yet somehow luminous, as beautiful as he'd ever seen her. 

"There's a cure, Alistair. It's not what I wanted, but it's enough. Enough for us."

"Tell me," he whispered. 

She took his hand in both of hers, seeming to marvel at its mere existence as she traced the lines of his palm. "Alistair." She looked up at him from beneath tear-damp lashes, and brought his hand inside her cloak to rest on the round swell of her belly. 

"It's you, Alistair."

[goldenmazzello]

Lay all your love on me | Part 2

(I don't own this gif. Credits to the owner)

Warning: Alcohol, anxiety, angst, hungover, languague, mixed feelings, flashbacks. 

W/C: 5k.

Masterlist

~

Although you were all exhausted from your last day on set, you were going out and have some fun and celebrate. You needed this. You all needed this. So when Ben suggested to go to a new bar for some drinks all of you enthusiastically agreed, especially because you, Joe and Rami were coming back to the US tomorrow.

Now, you were at your hotel room getting ready for your last night in London. You chose a little black dress with embroidery black sequins all over it, it also had a nice cleavage that left nothing to the imagination. That was your favorite dress, you felt absolutely confident when you wore it. You put on a pair of black high heels, you were almost ready.

Suddenly, you heard a knock from the door and gave a glance to the clock that was hang on the wall. Fuck. You were late and you hadn't done your make-up yet. You weren't used to wearing a lot of make-up, you prefered having a good skincare routine but since you've had eye bags from the exhausting week on set and your skin wasn't helping due to your PMS pimples, you decided to slightly cover them.

You opened the door and Joe was standing there, wearing a white dress shirt, a pair of black jeans, a leather jacket and a pair of black boots. He looked stunning.

"Wow, you look..." You both said at the same time and laughed. You moved your sight to the floor with blushy cheeks.

"Are you ready?" Joe asked while studying you with a curious expression from the door frame.

"Hmm...do we have time?" You played with your hands, nervously. "I mean, I've haven't done my make-up yet, but I promise it won't take more than 5 minutes. Please Joey." You looked at him with puppy eyes, trying to convince him. He chuckled.

Joey. You were the only person who called him like that. You thought that maybe his mother called him like this but no, you were the only one and Joe found it pleasant. He got annoyed when someone who wasn't you used that nickname.

"Okay, you are already pretty but anyway, you can do it, we have like 10 minutes." He checked his watch as he entered the room and sat on your bed.

"Thank you!" You hugged him and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. He could feel your scent. His heart began to beat hard like a hammer. He swallowed.

You grabbed your makeup bag which was a few inches away from the bed on a table and started to apply your red lipstick quickly. Joe was following every movement. You bent over the table to have a better look of your face in your little mirror to apply concealer and Joe couldn't help but fixate his eyes on your thighs and then, your ass. it wasn't the first time he did it, but that little dress allowed him to have a perfect view of your long legs and he couldn’t resist. 

"I'm ready!" You turned around and faced him, he was silent and pretended to look at the window. "You okay?" You walked towards him and grabbed his hand.

"Y-yes, I was just...thinking about our flight" He lied. You rubbed his hand gently and sat by his side. You'll be the death of him.

"Sure? You look...tense" You said worried.

He nodded. "I'm tired but I not going to stay in bed in our last night in London." He tittered.

"Okay, let's get going!"

~

The bar was overcrowded, something to expect for a bar that opened two weeks ago. There were some tables and chairs lined up against the walls and others were just packed into the middle of the room. It was kinda dark, since the lights were red colored, but it was perfect, you still could see people’s faces. Music from the 70s, 80s and 90s was playing at the background.

As you sat at the table, you could notice that it was full of bottles that Ben and Gwilym had brought, since they were the first of the group to arrive.

“Well, you really want us to celebrate tonight Ben.” You raised an eyebrow while looking at them. Ben giggled. 

“Of course!” He said as he grabbed a glass and poured champagne on it. “Where are Rami and Lucy?” 

“Here!” They shouted from the door and walked towards the table. “What the hell...we’re only six in here. why is the the perfect amount of alcohol for the entire bar?” Lucy asked, blinking. 

“Your blonde friend wants us to be shit-faced.” Replied Gwylim and took a sip of wine. Ben shrugged. 

You raised your drinks and Ben began talking "Cheers for this movie and everything that will come with this!"

"Cheers for us guys!" Rami shouted.

Bohemian Rhapsody was a very promising movie. It was one of the most anticipating of the year worldwide, so maybe it will lead to awards nominations such as the Oscars and it also will give all of you more recognition. The best was yet to come.

An hour later, you’ve already drunk half of what was on the table. it was going to be a long night.

There was a tall blonde girl leaned on the bar counter, who was gazing at your table. She was having a drink with a straw that made her lips look big. Maybe, she was doing it on purpose.

“Hey, that girl is trying to get your attention.” Ben elbowed Joe and he looked at her. 

Your eyes rapidly moved to Joe, waiting for his next move. 

“Go and have fun.” Gwylim blinked. 

“I don’t know, I don’t think she’s looking for me.” Joe commented.

Joe wasn’t interested at all, especially since you were on his thoughts all day. But maybe, if he tried to talk to other women he could keep his mind occupied for a bit. Whatsmore, he has been in a forced celibacy for the past months due to filming so it could be an opportunity.

"Are you kidding me? Joe, she's been staring at you for like the last five minutes." Gwilym said. "Go and invite her a drink, do something!"

Joe hesitated for a minute until he put his phone in his pocket and went with her.

You didn't know why, but something made you feel sick to your stomach. Why were you feeling like this for Joe? He was your friend and you should be happy for him. Did you...like him? It wasn't a secret that he was very attractive, but you never thought about him as your lover.

Your not-so-sober state was making you feel so nauseous. You were also tired from your last days of work which were stressing and hadn't been eating properly because you were busy. This wasn’t going to end well. 

You stopped drinking and sighed. There was a growing unease running through your veins, you couldn't take it anymore. You rushed to the bathroom. Fortunately, you were the only one in there. You locked yourself in an individual loo and pressed your forehead against the door, breathless. You closed your eyes and tried to catch your breath, but you felt as if the sharp point of a knife was stabbing you in the chest. The feeling of your heavy pounding heart and a persistent tightness in your shoulders were taking over you. You began to count, one, two, three, four to remove the explosion in your brain that was sending your thoughts spiraling out of control. You couldn't put into words the way you were feeling.

A few minutes later, your breath was becoming normal. You stayed there, trying to recover.

You thought it wasn't going to happen anymore, or at least tonight.

On the other side of the bar, Ben noticed that you were gone. He looked for you desperately, but he couldn't find you anywhere.

He immediately went to the bar counter where Gwilym was standing there, laughing out loud, he has just moved his hand on Joe's head and disheveled him, showing off his perm. Joe wasn't happy at all but the girl just laughed and continued talking.

"Guys, I can't find (y/n) anywhere." Ben explained.

Joe's eyes widened. he apologized with the girl and looked for you. Gwilym followed him.

"Why don't we tell Lucy to go and see if she's in the bathroom? She might be there."

"It's a good idea but, where is Lucy?" Joe moved to the crowd where Rami and Lucy were rocking their bodies to some 80s love songs.

Joe explained her what happened and she went to the bathroom. Rami helped the boys.

What if someone hurt you? what if you were in danger and you couldn't ask for help? Joe couldn't stop thinking about the worst case scenario. He felt a twinge in his chest.

As Lucy entered the bathroom, she looked under each door and felt relaxed when she saw your black high heels there.

"(y/n)? (y/n), are you okay?" She knocked the door.

She sent a message to your group chat.

Lucy: I found her, she's in the bathroom. Don't worry.

"Yes, absolutely." You opened the door and she almost jumps. Your eyes were red and your mascara was running on your cheeks.

"What happened? Did someone do anything to you?" She hugged you tight and you hugged she back even thighter.

"No, no. I'm just...I don't know, I was feeling anxious but I think I'm better now." You moved to the mirror and opened the tap water. You washed your face.

"Was it for anything in particular? What were you doing when you started feeling like that?"

You explained the situation and she hugged you again. “I’m here for you, don’t worry.” She said sweetily. You smiled. 

You came back and the guys sighed in relief.

"She's okay, don't bother her." Lucy warned them. Joe sat beside you and put his hand on your shoulder.

"Do you need anything?" Rami asked.

"Give me that." You snatched the wine bottle off his hands.

The blonde girl showed up again. She whispered something on Joe's ear and gave him a piece of paper. Then, she blinked at him and left the bar.

"Man, what's on the paper?" Ben was dying to know about it. Joe gave it to Rami. Ben stucked out his tongue.

Rami opened it. "Ohh, what a heartbreaker you are, Mr. Mazzello." He gave it back to him. Joe held it in his hands as he read.

"I really liked your perm. If you fancy doing something after the bar, let me know 64788433"

Joe tore the paper and took a sip of wine. Ben, Rami and Gwilym's jaw dropped. You felt relieved. "What?"

"I can't believe you're wasting such an opportunity!" Ben said with a wide eyed face.

"She's not my type." He continued drinking.

He didn't feel like leaving you. He felt alarmed by your state, you were his friend and he wan’t going to leave you when you were feeling like that.  Although he didn't know what happened to you, he could notice you were tense. He would do anything to make you feel better.

"Dude, you're mad. It's your last night here." Rami insisted. Joe didn't care.

"And, what about you? Did you find anyone for tonight" Gwilym asked you, mischivously.

You almost choke. "W-What?"

"You know, a one-night stand.” He moved up his eyebrows. You giggled.

"I'm not much into that, I'm more classic, you know." You confessed.

"Come here, I'm gonna find you a hot date!" Lucy begged you.

"It's okay Lu, I wanna be on my own tonight." You smiled gently.

~

It was 2 a.m, you were all a mess and there were like 3 more hours ahead. Oh shit.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming to our place tonight.” Yelled a man from the little scenario, holding a microphone. ”It’s 2 a.m and that means, It’s karaoke time!” He raised his arms and people clapped excitedly. “We invite you to come here with a partner and give us a performance! Who will be our first duo tonight?” 

“Here! These pretty girls right here are going to sing first.” Ben jumped from his chair and pointed at you and Lucy, who gaped at you. 

“Oh no, shut up Benjamin!” You tried to sat him back to his place but it was impossible. 

“Come on girls, let’s go!" The man encourage both of you. Everybody turned their heads to your table. You swallowed.

"Are you sure?" You asked Lucy and she shrugged.

"I guess we have to do it, we have no choice." She said in a small panicky voice as the whole bar was waiting for you to go.

"Fuck, then let's do it."

You rapidly took two more shots of vodka so as not to be so conscious of what you were going to do and walked towards the scenario with her. As you got out of your chair, Joe followed your body with his eyes. He swore no one ever looked so good in a dress and it hurt him to know he couldn't have you that night.

Ben took out his phone from his pocket and started to record, maybe it would end up posted on Instagram.

"So, to who do we owe the pleasure tonight?" The man handed Lucy and you microphones.

"I'm Lucy and she's my friend (y/n)." Everybody clapped and there were some whistling. For a second, you regretted wearing that dress.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Lucy and (y/n)!" He yelled, leaving the scenario.

You both moved to the little screen you had in front of you. Lucy chose Wannabe by the Spice Girls.

You took a deep breath and started singing. "Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want." You moved your head to Lucy's direction.

"So tell me what you want, what you really, really want." She sang and held your hand. You both started moving your hips from side to side following the rhythm of the music, trying to remember some moves from the music video.

The boys were singing and clapping from the table, totally enjoying it. You started to feel more comfortable and to enjoy it too.

"If you wanna be my lover." You both sang the last line of the song and hugged. You quickly came back with the boys while you heard clapping again.

"You girls nailed it!" Rami gave Lucy a quick peck.

"I still hate you, Ben. You better be careful, I'll kill you." You blustered annoyed. He mocked you. 

"Please tell me you're going to sing with me!" Joe put his best puppy face that made it hard to deny anything.

"Yeah Joe, when pigs fly!"

Two hours later, you and Joe were on the scenario, you were totally sloshed.

"Purple rain, purple rain. I only wanted to see you underneath the purple rain." You both sang from the top of your lungs. Joe had his arm around your waist and you had yours around his neck, moving backwards and forwards, trying to dance.

"For you Ben, I'll ruin my voice for you!" Joe pointed at Ben, who was trying to hide behind Gwilym.

Joe lost his balanced and fell to the ground, but that didn't stop him for singing. Screaming.

"I only wanted to see you underneath the AHHHHHHHH PURPLE RAIN, PURPLE RAIN, UHHHHHH." He grabbed your leg like a kid.

"Okay Joey, it's enough." You burst out laughing and helped him up.

~

As fast as you opened your eyes, you closed them. A merciless sunbeam was squirting straight in, making the oppressive force in your head go deeper. You turned around and checked your phone, 12:30 p.m, you had to be at the airport in exactly five hours. 

You couldn’t remember neither coming back to the hotel nor falling asleep. As you sat up bed with a rather unpleasant feeling, you felt a shiver down your spine, the room was cold and you were still wearing your black dress. You felt a wave of nausea and ran to the bathroom. You ended up bent over the toilet, puking your guts out. You haven’t been like this in months. The last time you were like this was last year when your ex broke up with you. When you finished puking, you struggled to lift your head up, but the head throbbing was making it impossible. You rested your head in your hands and began to rub your temples, trying to massage away the headache. It was pointless. You felt you were going to die in about five minutes. 

You looked at your face in the mirror, your mascara was running on your cheeks and your red lipstick was smeared, you looked terrible. After cleaning up your face with a damp cloth, you turned on the shower and tossed your dress and your underwear. You felt really gross. The drops of water running down your body felt warm and you enjoyed it. After a long shower, you got changed into your comfiest clothes and finished packing. 

While you were drinking water, your phone buzzed. Joe was calling. 

“Hey, how are you?” Asked Joe with a husky voice. He might have just woken up. 

“I feel like shit, I’m never drinking again.” You protested. Joe laughed. 

That's what everybody says waking up with a terrible hangover and then, they drink again and repeat it over and over again.

“We both know that’s a pretty unconvincing lie.” 

“Well, I’m not drinking any soon. That sounds better?” 

“Absolutely.” You nodded, smiling. “Can you come to my room? I can’t move and I feel I’m about to pass out if I don’t drink water soon. Please, I’m gonna die, don’t let me die!” Joe screamed, being totally dramatic. 

“You aren’t gonna die, Joey. I’m on my way.” You hang and walked towards his room. You knocked the door and Joe cursed, he had to get out of bed. 

“God, I can’t even walk.” Joe said as you entered the room. He jumped back to bed. “Come here.” 

“Are you sure?” You asked, walking on his direction. 

“Of course, come here, I’m gonna die.” Joe pouted. You rolled your eyes and lay in bed. 

You called room service and they brought you bottles of water and some snacks. 

“Joe, you have to take short sips of water.” 

“I’m thirsty.” 

“I know but it would get worse.” You squeezed his bottle and now, his face was wet. You laughed out loud. 

“You’ll regret it.” He left the bottle on the nightstand and started to tickle you. 

“Please, please, please, Joe, stop or I’m gonna throw up the water, please stop” You begged between laughs. Joe stopped and you sighed in relief. 

“Well, I see you aren’t feeling so bad after all.” 

“Kinda, but I wanna stay here until we head to the airport.” He moved close to you. 

“So do I.” You placed his head on your chest and hugged him. Joe felt he was going to die. 

Never had he been this close before. He didn’t want to move because he was practicaly on your boobs. He tried to avoid any dirty thoughts but his view wasn't helping. When he felt your fingers through his hair, he closed his eyes.

Joe wished this was part of his routine. You and him, waking up together on the same bed, him, giving you kisses all over your face and body. He wanted to kiss you so bad. He liked to think that your lips were as soft as a cotton. He hoped someday he’ll find out if he was right.

"You know," said Joe, breaking the silence. "I think you've never told me, but how did you find out about Queen?" Joe questioned.

It was a rainy cold saturday afternoon. Boredom had taken over you, so you decided to sit on your computer while your mom was baking a delicious banana bread while your dad was working on a project for his job, you assumed that he had become a workaholic because no one would ever dedicate so much time to his job on a free day.

"Can you look for a song on YouTube? It's awfully noiseless in here." Your dad said stretching his back, he had been sitting for like 5 hours.

You knew that your dad liked The Rolling Stones so you clicked on Start me Up music video. When it finished, you checked on YouTube's suggestions. Queen - I Want to Break Free. You knew that Queen was a well-known British band but you've never listened to any of their songs.

"Dad, mom, do you like Queen?"

"Yeah, well, I used to listen to them a lot when I was young." Your dad told you.

"One of my favorite songs by Queen used to be I Want to Break Free." Your mom said as he took out the banana bread out of the oven. It smelled amazing.

"That's the one YouTube suggested me."

You watched the music video while eating what your mother have just cooked. What a pretty girl, you thought when a blonde schoolgirl appeared in the kitchen. A few months later, you realized it was actually Roger Taylor.

"I can't believe you thought he was actually a girl." Joe couldn't stop laughing.

"In my defense, some people in the 70s thought he was a woman."

"And then what happened?"

"Then, there wasn't a day in which I didn't listen to Queen, and nowadays it's still that way. I really love them. They helped me through difficult times and they still do.” 

He smiled. “It’s crazy how every person has at least a memory of Queen in their lives. I remember that Bohemian Rhapsody was the first song I downloaded on Napster.” You interrupted him. 

“Which is ilegal.” 

“Shh, don’t tell Brian and Roger.” You giggled. “And then,” he continued. “When I directed Undrafted, I would drive every morning listening to Somebody to Love and it gave me good vibes for the day. It was great” 

You talked for like two hours about Queen. Now, you were on Joe's chest. "What are your plans for the next days?" Joe started to play with your hair.

"I'm staying in New Jersey with my family, you know, it's been a while since I've seen them. And the other week I'm having an audition in New York for a theater play."

"Great, what is its name?"

"It's Romeo and Juliet. A classic. I really hope I'll get this, otherwise I don't know what I'll do." You sighed.

"You'll get the role, don't worry about it, you are wonderful." Joe grabbed your hand and you rubbed his.

"Thank you. And what are you up to this week? Any meeting or something?" You inquired.

"Not yet. I'm going to visit my family and some friends and of course I'll wait for you to free so we can start with our To do list in New York." He smiled sheepishly.

"I can't wait for it!"

"Hmm, I was meaning to ask it earlier but anyway, what happened last night?"

You were frozen. You tried to find the exact words to explain him you were feeling anxious and that you didn't know the reason why. He let you know that you could always count on him.

A few minutes later, Joe fell asleep, he was still holding your hand. You stared at him for like an eternity and thought about how you felt last night. You weren't sure about your feelings as something more than a friend. You loved him with all your heart, he had become someone you really cared for, you were together all the time and you knew that it would still be like that from now.

He had a peaceful look in his face that made your heart melt. You were grateful that you were going to spend a few days in your hometown where you will have enough time to clear your mind.

~

After a week at your parents' home, you came back to your apartment in New York and now, you were getting ready for your audition. You kept reading the script over and over again while you were on your way in the taxi.

While you were waiting in the queue to enter the theater, your phone buzzed. It was a message.

Joe: Good luck sweetie!

You were beaming from ear to ear.

~

Joe finished cooking one of his specialties, meatballs with spaghetti, his favorite food. His friend Aaron was about to come in any minute. It was a long time since they last reunited, especially because they were busy with their acting careers.

The doorbell rang and Joe opened the door of his house. Aaron Tveit was standing there, holding a bottle of wine and some cans of beer happily.

As they ate, they talked about their lasts projects and brought up some memories of Joe's movie, Undrafted, in which they were co-stars. When they were about to finish the delicious supper, the doorbell rang. They looked at each other.

"Is it really the doorbell?" Aaron asked, confused.

"Yes but, that's strange, I'm not expecting anyone."

Joe opened the door and his gaze flickered over your presence. 

“I wasn't expecting to see you until tomorrow, what a lovely surprise!” His smiled disappeared when he noticed you were weeping. "What's wrong?" 

“Sorry I came out of the blue but I really need you.” When you leaned over the frame of the door trying to enter his house, you saw he had a guest. "Oh, sorry, I didn't know you had people tonight. I can come tomorrow morning." You moved backwards. 

“Don’t leave, (y/n).” He grabbed your arm. “You can join us.” You hesitated, “Please, stay.” 

You entered his house and he took you to the kitchen, not before telling his friend he would be back in a minute. You sat on the counter and he stood in front of you. “Tell me, what happened?” 

“The audition...” You played with the edge of your shirt, avoiding his gaze. “It was awful, they treated me so unkind...and obviously I didn’t get the role.” 

“I’m so sorry, (y/n).” He embraced you in such a tender and warm way that made you feel safe immediately. He rubbed your back and whispered sweet things in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

You couldn't lie, in the days you spent away in New Jersey, Joe couldn't leave your mind. He was there, 24/7 and you couldn't stop talking about him to your family. Your mom only needed two hours to say you were having feelings for him, despite your denial. 

“Forget about that.” He took you to the dining room, where his friend was with his phone. As he saw you were coming, he left it on the table and smiled.

"(y/n), he's Aaron. Aaron, she's (y/n)." Joe introduced each other. Aaron was a brown haired man with beautiful blue eyes. He seemed to be in his mid 30s, just like Joe.

You remembered seeing them on tv, he was in Gossip Girl!

"It's nice to meet you, Joe talked about you a lot!" He admitted. Joe blushed and you smiled.

Did he really talk about you with his friends?

Joe insisted on serving you a plate of food and you acepted it. An hour passed, now you felt better, Aaron was so friendly.

“I’m having an audition on friday for a musical, If you like, I’ll give you the script.” Aaron said while you were having a sip of wine. 

“What is it about?” 

“It’s a Broadway musical based on the movie Grease. I think you’ll like it. They are looking for someone to play Sandy Olsson." 

You almost choke. “B-Broadway? Oh God. I don’t know..” 

Broadway. It was a tempting proposal, but you weren’t sure if you were going to be acepted to play a role in a such an incredible musical, especially after your failed audition from today. 

“Hey, why don’t you give it a try?” Suggested Joe. “You have nothing to lose. It’s a big opportunity, you should definitly go.”

“And you still have time to prepare for this.” Aaron unlocked his phone and asked for your number. “I’ve just sent you the script. Don’t worry, I can help you if you want, you can call me at any moment and I’ll try to help you. Tomorrow I’ll send you the adress and everything you need to know. And if you want, I can pick you up and we can go together.” 

“That would be nice, thank you.” You smiled. 

“So, that’s a yes?” Joe asked expectantly. 

“Yes!” 

Joe was absolutely happy for you. However, his mind was being cruel.

“Joey, are you listening to me?” You asked him. He rubbed his eyes. 

“Sorry, I think I’m falling asleep. What were you saying?” 

“Can I stay here tonight?” 

“Sure!” 

He had to do something, too much love will kill him.