#i just found my set of them in a cabinet and started reading em again and...man what the fuck is happening here

[doodlboy]

Yk, the fazbear frights books are weird as hell

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 6,188 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan + flashbacks in other eras Warnings: language, fear and anxiety, mention of fear of heights Summary: Y/N and Daryl head out on the run for the requested medical supplies. Things are tense, but possibly about to get worse... This part is written in Daryl's POV!

Your name: submit What is this?

* * *

“I ain’t waitin’. I got a whiff of him and I gotta go before it disappears.”

“Daryl, are you sure about this?” Carol pressed him, creases from worry between her eyebrows. “Are you sure you’ve really thought this through?”

“What is there to think through? If he finds her again, he’ll kill her. And I ain’t waitin’ around for that to happen.” The archer was a blur of activity, gathering his gear and shoving it into his pack.

“I think you need to talk to her about this,” Carol insisted, relinquishing her hold on his poncho somewhat unwillingly as Daryl pulled it from her hands.

He shook his head. “Nah. Ya know she’ll want to be there and I can’t risk that…” he trailed off. “I can’t risk—can’t risk that.”

A thick silence stretched for a moment and Carol wrung her hands. “Well, what are you going to tell her?”

He paused, his hands on the clasp of his pack. “I ain’t tellin’ her anythin’. I’ll leave before its light tomorrow. By the time everyone is up, I’ll be gone.”

“What am I supposed to tell her then? When she inevitably asks?” Carol pressed him. “You want me to lie to her too?”

“I ain’t lyin’,” Daryl snapped. “‘M just not—not tellin’ her everythin’. ‘M ending this so she can move on.”

Carol’s jaw tensed. “It feels like a lie.”

“Just tell her I went north. To see what I could see. Lookin’ for supplies,” he drawled, setting his pack and crossbow on the ground beside his bed. “I don’t know.”

Carol sighed heavily and shook her head as he straightened up. “I don’t think this is—”

“Look, tell her whatever ya want. Just wait until ‘m gone. This is happenin’. It’ll be done. S’gonna be over with. For good.”

She shook her head and gave him a long look before crossing his cell and gently clasping his shoulder. “Be careful. I mean it,” she said, surrendering to the fact that there would be no changing his mind. He nodded, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment.

“I will.”

Carol gave him one last look full of anxiety and left him.

* * *

I hardly slept. Maybe caught 20 minutes here and 15 minutes there. Anxiety about the run—that’s all it was. At least, that’s what I kept tellin’ myself. Wanderin’ into a hospital was about the dumbest shit we could do. They always promised to be loaded with unexpected bullshit and floods of undead assholes. But lyin’ flat on my back in the dark, I knew deep down it had a helluva lot more to do with her than it had to do with the run. I was tryin’ to remember the last time I’d spent more than ten minutes alone with her and it left me with a feelin’ like somebody had dropped a damn lead weight onto my chest. I turned over in bed in an attempt to throw it off, but it still sat there on my lungs. I knew exactly when we’d last been alone for longer than a few minutes. Of course I fuckin’ knew. It was burned into my goddamn memory.

But it wasn’t doin’ me a lick of good to think on it so I pushed it away and waited for the clock beside me to read 5:15 before I climbed out of bed. My gear was all waitin’ ready, except for pickin’ up a gun on the way out. I half-expected to run into her in the armory, but it was dark and empty when I grabbed a handgun and some ammo. It felt like a lonely walk to Aaron’s, up the empty street, dew heavy on the grass, and my bootsteps echoing loudly off the dark rows’a houses. I never feel right in here… with the square little lawns and lights on by the front doors. It just felt fake, like somebody had built paper houses and was plannin’ to light ‘em up to burn any minute. I couldn’t feel settled. I just felt… lost. Outta place. Like I didn’t belong.

I’d gotten rid of that feelin’ once… My mind drifted back to her like it always did. It was like I didn’t have no damn control over my own mind. She’d been the one who’d made me feel like I belonged. But now? Fuck. I’m doin’ it again. Focus, dumbass.

She wasn’t waitin’ by my bike either, so I rode up to the gate. As the lookout platform came into view, I caught sight of her climbing down, followed by Gabriel. Her pack was slung on her back, a shotgun hanging at her side and her favorite pistol in a holster on her thigh. I found myself chewing the inside of my cheek. Nerves. Anxiety. This was gonna be a long fuckin’ day.

“I’ve got the gate,” Gabriel said, heading for the latch. She wandered over and I felt a jolt when she met my eyes. I nudged my nose up in a nod, but she just looked back at me with that same stony expression. Unreadable. It always seemed like I never saw her smile anymore. Maybe she did, just not around me. I got that blank look or a glare that I probably deserved…

“Were ya on watch?” I asked, curious why she wouldn’ta gotten rid of her shift in favor of sleep, knowing we’d be heading out on a run early.

“No,” she said simply. No extra info. Typical. Why waste more on me when one word would do? She didn’t owe me nothin’. And she knew it. I swallowed my other questions and leaned forward on my bike so she could climb on. I felt her settle in behind me and glanced over my shoulder at her. She caught my eyes for a brief moment before looking away, down toward the ground. That was typical too. It was like she just couldn’t look at me. Felt like somebody twisted a blade in my chest every time she dodged me like that. And yet I couldn’t get enough of her, even if she was purposely a giant pain in the ass most of the damn time… I still felt like she was a mirage in a desert. A mouthful of cool water in a drought. Food for a starvin’ man.

Gabriel was waiting with the gate open, so I revved the bike to life again. Her arms wrapped around my waist to hold on and for a second I thought I felt her cheek press against the back of my shoulder, but I knew I must have imagined it. My heart was racing as we pulled out. I was more anxious than I had been all night. The thoughts rushing through my head moved so fast I couldn’t even focus on any of them.

Gabriel yelled at us to be safe as we moved through, kickin’ dust up that left a glowing red cloud behind from the reflection of the taillights. The ride to the city was smooth. We made good time, luckily only passing lone walkers or small herds that were easy to avoid. Around the curves, for a brief moment, she’d hold tighter to me and lean into the turns like I’d taught her in what felt like another fuckin’ lifetime. Each corner I could feel every individual fingertip pressing into my waist or stomach. It was always followed by a sudden wash of heat like somebody had shoved me in a shower with the temperature all the way up. I couldn’t control it. Didn’t matter how hard I tried to ignore the feelin’ of being so damn close against each other…

I slowed down as we neared the hospital. Cars sat rusting in gridlocked traffic, tires long gone, frozen in time—same place they were when everythin’ shut the fuck down. I slowed my bike to roll over some debris and hit a chunk of concrete a little harder than I meant to. Her arms tightened around me reflexively at the jolt before loosening again the next second. My heart jolted at the same time. That feeling… of her clinging onto me for safety—but fuck. Let’s not make it out to be more than it is, dumbass. I turned toward my left shoulder. “Sorry,” I murmured. She didn’t say anything back, just shifted in her place behind me, puttin’ an inch more space back between us. The hospital came into view ahead, tall over everything else on the block.

She tapped my arm and I turned so I could hear her over the engine. “We should park. Sound of the bike,” she said. I knew what she was thinkin’. Any walkers or people anywhere around would hear us. I turned down a side street and parked in a loading dock bay. She climbed off about as damn fast as she could. Kicking the kickstand out and swinging my leg over, she was already walking back toward the corner of the building to look down the street.

“Hold up,” I called after her. I still had to get my gear off the back. She either didn’t hear me or didn’t give a shit and I found myself gritting my teeth. But when I rushed around the corner, I nearly collided with her. She did wait. She was leaned up against the brick, her shotgun in her hands, staring ahead at the looming building.

She straightened up as I stopped beside her and we started windin’ our way down the last couple blocks, keepin’ to the shadows of the buildings, stayin’ in cover as best we could. Even so, I couldn’t help glancin’ up at the endless windows, too many high points. All it would take is one asshole with a rifle and a scope... My hands started to sweat as I gripped my crossbow. I glanced at her, but she was as stony-faced as ever. “C’mon,” I said, quickening my stride. “I wanna get the hell off this street.”

I heard her let out a small scoff behind me. “Yeah, you’re the only one worried about being out here,” she murmured. My teeth clenched again but I did my best to ignore it. There was no point gettin’ riled up this early in the day. We still had a lot of fuckin’ work to do. We reached a set of double doors on the side of the hospital, but one glance inside showed they were well barricaded. I stood there rubbing a hand over the stubble on my face. “S’try the south door,” I drawled. To my surprise, she didn’t argue. But that side was a fuckin’ bust too. “Shit,” I spat out. There was a tall cabinet blocking the entrance.

“Good call,” she said sarcastically.

I shot her a glare. And this time when I bit my cheek, I tasted blood. “Ya got a better fuckin’ idea? Huh?” I challenged her.

She rolled her eyes, studying the door for a moment. There was a large glass pane above it that was broken out and I saw her eyes lock in on it. “Boost me up there,” she said, inclining her chin to indicate the window.

Did she want to go in alone? Well, that sure as shit wasn’t fuckin’ happenin’. “Like hell,” I growled back. She rolled her eyes again.

“Just boost me through and I’ll get the door open. I’ll let you in.”

Now it was my turn to scoff. “Ya gonna move that cabinet? By yerself?” I asked skeptically. The muscle in her jaw tensed.

“I don’t have to move it far. Just enough to let you squeeze in. And you can help from the outside.”

I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. I didn’t like the idea. I paced a tight circle, thinkin’, as she shifted impatiently beside me. “What if ya get in there and there are walkers? Huh? We can’t see shit down the hall.”

“I’ll be quiet. Come on. We haven’t got all fucking day and we’re sitting ducks out here. Unless you’ve come up with something better—”

I didn’t like it, but she was right. Shit. “Fine,” I interrupted. She leaned her shotgun up against the wall as I set my back against the door, fingers locked together and hands low at my bent knee. “C’mon. Gimme yer foot.”

She seemed to hesitate and I wondered if she was having second thoughts, but the next moment she stepped close in front of me and her hands came to my shoulders. “Ready?” I asked. Her face was maybe six inches from mine, her hands light. I started to feel warm again, a flush of heat across the back of my neck that started spillin’ into my chest. I could see every fleck of color in her eyes, the upturned curve of her eyelashes, that little scar on her chin... Fuck. Focus.

“Ready.” She planted her boot in my hands and I boosted her up so she could grab the window edge. The tinkling of glass dropping in was all I could hear for a moment, and then her weight disappeared from my hands. Spinning around, I watched her pull herself through onto the top of the cabinet. She stayed perched there for a moment, glancin’ behind her, scoutin’ the hallway, before she dropped to her feet lightly. She made it look easy. Graceful.

I couldn’t stand still, constantly shifting my weight. I watched her face tighten as she wedged her shoulder into the cabinet, using all her weight, and it started to move at an angle away from the door. I pushed in with my shoulder from the outside and we finally had enough space for me to slip through. I passed her shotgun through first before turnin’ sideways and slidin’ in. It was dark and completely silent except for the sound of our own breathin’. It felt stuffy inside, and I could vaguely smell somethin’ sharp like animal piss and a sickeningly sweet smell. Death. Decay. I paused to draw the string on my crossbow back, cocking it ready to fire, a bolt nestled in the flight groove.

She pulled her flashlight out from the side pocket of her pack and clicked it on, shining it partially up the hallway ahead. “Jesus…” Her boots crunched over broken glass. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her shotgun, her eyes fixed down the hall, following the moving beam of her light. “This place is a fucking wreck,” she whispered. In her distraction, her tone lacked the usual hostility or sarcasm.

“Somethin’ went down since we were last here,” I agreed. There was a lot more debris and furniture toppled over and strewn about. A lot of obstacles to a clean getaway if we had to make one. “Let’s just get this done and get the hell out.”

“What a unique idea…” she remarked over her shoulder. There it was. Damn sarcasm was back.

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes and movin’ past her so I was in the lead. I knew it would annoy her, but I secretly wanted to be the one in the line of fire if somethin’ was crooked. I headed for the stairwell, pullin’ my own flashlight out and shinin’ it inside before I tried the door. It looked clear. “Upper floors are more likely to have shit left. Let’s go.”

We moved in silence. I could feel her ghosting behind me the whole way, almost mimicking my movements. This was the first time the two of us had been alone on a run since… since I dun even know when. But despite it being so goddamn long, we weren’t out of step. Once we started movin’ it was like no damn time had passed. We fell right back into our old rhythm. I knew her and she knew me. We worked well together when she put aside her need to argue with everythin’ I said. It still felt like we each knew what the other was thinkin’. Not that I expected this run would magically make working together bearable again for good, or solve anything, but at least we could if we had to. I also now was realizin’ this whole thing was probably orchestrated by Rick. Did Denise really need the supplies? Sure. But did it have to be Y/N and I gettin’ ‘em? Alone? Fuck no. I dunno exactly what he was hopin’ for but I’m pretty sure he’ll be disappointed…

Moving steadily upwards, we had most of the supplies on the list, plus plenty of extra finds, but I was growing more and more uneasy as we went on. We hadn’t run into a single fucking walker yet, and to me that meant they were probably herded up in a massive hoard somewhere. It felt like a matter of time before we found them or they found us. I could sense Y/N’s tension risin’ again too. She was more fidgety, more careful about each step she took. I found myself frequently sweeping my eyes back behind us to make sure nothin’ was lurking just outta the flashlight beams. There were the usual signs of walkers nearby; smears of blood on the floor and walls, that fuckin’ smell ya could never get outta yer nose, even chunks of flesh from the rottin’ fuckers. But we still hadn’t seen one, and I was fuckin’ worried.

“Almost got everything,” Y/N whispered to me, shoving a couple more bottles into her pack. “We just need to find the CPAP machine,” she murmured, staring down at the list. “I don’t have a fucking clue what the hell that looks like.” She glanced over at me, one of her eyebrows quirked in a question and I realized she was waitin’ for some kinda response.

“What? Yer lookin’ at me? I ain’t got a goddamn clue what the hell that even is,” I said gruffly. Shit. I saw it. Just for a second, but one corner of her lips twitched up in a smile and I swear there was a spark in her eyes—like the ones I used to see in her all the time. My heart jumped and I tried my best to ignore it. She seemed to turn away, hidin’ her face right as I was puzzlin’ over it.

“Right… well, let’s try down the hall. There’s probably another supply closet at the other end,” she said, nudging her head toward the darkness ahead.

We made our way cautiously. I pushed into the lead again and was surprised when she didn’t argue. I tried every door handle but most of ‘em just led to empty or trashed patient rooms. I caught her frozen in the doorway of one that had a massive bloodstain on the floor and spatter partially up the walls. Her eyes were wide and vacant, and I wondered what she was reliving. “Hey,” I said, just over her shoulder. She seemed to pull out of it abruptly and she turned away, moving on like nothin’ had happened. I let her go ahead, mainly so I could keep an eye on her for a minute and make sure she still had her head in the game, but I didn’t need to worry. Not about that anyway. She’d always been tough. She wasn’t shaken by shit easily. I knew that. And yet I still had this drive to want to protect her, even though she didn’t need it from me. And she definitely didn’t want it from me.

“Here,” she said suddenly, slinging her gun back on her shoulder and more fully opening the door to a small supply closet. There was hardly enough room for her to stand inside, so I posted up just behind her and strained my eyes and ears for anythin’. “It’s all electronic stuff,” she whispered, entirely focused at the task at hand. Her hands floated from one device to the next, illuminated by her flashlight. She was looking for some label or model number or somethin’ to tell her what they were. She bent down and grabbed some scattered papers from among the boxes on the floor. Swearing under her breath she held one up to the flashlight. “Of course the cover and all the useful shit in the front is torn off,” she muttered. She was bending down to grab another handful when there was some sudden, deep noise on the floor above us.

My heart seemed to stall out for a moment and she straightened up and froze, her eyes lifted toward the ceiling, lips partially parted. The sound seemed to reverberate through the building. I could feel it beneath my feet. It resonated through the walls. After a moment, I was looking at her and she glanced over and met my eyes, her eyebrows a little furrowed with worry.

“What the fuck was that?” she asked in a harsh whisper. I only shook my head. She gulped and refocused, shakin’ it off, focusing back on the papers. She was flipping page after page, scanning them as fast as she could.

I started to hear some more noises above us and then eventually spilling toward the other end of the hall. My grip on my crossbow tightened. “We need to move,” I said, keeping my voice low.

She was still intensely focused on the manual in her hands. “Just gimme a minute…” she said vaguely.

I shifted, turning more toward the far end of the hallway, straining my hearing. There was more clattering above us. “We might not have another damn minute.”

“Just—hold on—”

Fuck. I stood frozen for a moment as a herd of walkers started to spill out from the stairwell at the other end of the hallway and start toward us. “We ain’t got a minute, Y/N!” I urged in a harsh whisper. She didn’t seem to hear me.

There were more walkers than I could count. They hadn’t spotted us yet but I had to move fast, so I did the only damn thing I could think of and pushed her forward into the closet, pressing in after her and shutting the door as quietly as I could. I instinctively clicked my flashlight off and hurried to grab hers and do the same, plunging the two of us into darkness in that small space.

“Daryl, what the hell?!” she snapped at me. She’d been so focused she was completely oblivious to the mass of dead wandering our way. The goddamn closet was so small I had no choice but to be pressed into her… My heart started to pound and I think it had more to do with her against me than the undead assholes outside. I was sure she’d be able to feel it and prayed she’d just think it was adrenaline or somethin’. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

I shoved my hand over her mouth, all my patience gone. Did she really think I’d shoved her in a closet for the hell of it? “For once in yer goddamn life just shut up!” I growled in a low voice. She seemed to tense against me but in the quiet the sounds of the walkers outside the door were now easily heard above our ragged breathin’ and they were growing louder every second. I still had one hand over her mouth and the other clenching my crossbow at my side. She shifted against me and pulled my hand away. I could hear and feel her breathin’ pick up pace. I planted my palm on the wall behind her, next to her head, very aware of the growin’ heat pooling between the two of us where we were pressed together. The air felt suffocatin’. I started to worry the walkers outside the door would be able to hear my breathin’ I was so nervous. I wanted to shift, move away from her like I’m sure she wanted… I wanted to change positions and get my bow up, but it was impossible.

She didn’t seem to know where to put her arms within the tight, dark space. I couldn’t blame her. I was leaned in against her, sorta over her even. I felt her hand accidentally brush my arm and my body jolted a little at the contact, like some reflex I didn’t know I had. My teeth ground together. After that she seemed to settle away from me, into the wall behind her.

We had to just stay there, fuckin’ frozen, hardly room to breathe while the hoard passed by. Every once and a while, a body would thump hard against the door and I’d feel her flinch. I could feel sweat dripping down my neck and beading up on my face, my hair sticking to it. We were so close I could feel her breath against my skin when she faced toward me. I felt the rhythm of her breathin’. And I couldn’t ignore the fact that in that tiny ass closet, the only thing I could smell was the faint scent of her shampoo. I tried hard not to notice, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t try to put some name to the smell. Lavender? Not quite. Maybe more like rose? I dunno. And despite the possible death lurking just outside, I found it hard to focus on anythin' other than the feeling of her against me.

It felt like it took hours for the hoard to pass, but it was probably only ten minutes. But after the sounds drifted away we were still left with a big fuckin’ problem. They had to go somewhere, and my best guess was that they were travelin’ down.

It was so dark in there I couldn’t even tell if my fuckin’ eyes were open or closed, and it seemed to be makin’ it hard to think… Or maybe the angle of her one hip pressed into me was—fuck. Get it together, man… I fumbled for and clicked on my flashlight, findin' the two of us both wincin' at the sudden glare, noses almost touchin'. She was lookin’ up at me, her lips softly parted, her expression only full of concern for once, that little worry line she always gets near her eyebrow.

We both stayed like for a second. I guess just struck by actually seein’ how close we were in the sudden light, until finally she tore her eyes away and turned her head.

I tried to clear my throat, worried my voice was gonna come out soundin' strained or somethin’. “Uhh… sounded like they were goin’—”

“—down. Yeah,” she finished.

My eyes traced the angle of her jawline as she kept her face turned away from me. I heard the paper manual crinkle in her hand and groped for the doorknob behind me. “Yeah,” I agreed quietly. “So, we got a problem about gettin’ out.” My hand finally landed on the doorknob and I turned it and slowly opened the door on the hall, checking both directions carefully but also feelin’ like if I didn’t put some damn space between the two of us again I was about to explode. It looked clear and I stepped out. Glancin’ back, she still seemed frozen, up against the wall, her face turned away toward her shoulder so I couldn’t really get a read on her. “Hey. What is it?” I prompted her.

“Hmm?” She seemed to snap back to herself. “N—nothing…” She went back to searching the manual in her hand, like nothin’ had fuckin’ happened. Just one goddamn time I’d like to know what the fuck is goin’ on inside her head… But I ain’t got no right to that. She’s made that pretty fuckin’ clear.

It wasn’t the right manual or the right machine. But she went through two more until she found it. “Got it,” she announced, waving the paper at me before shoving it into her already full duffel bag. She seized a small machine from the shelf and started trying to rearrange items to make it fit in her pack.

“I got room,” I said, still nervously checkin’ over my shoulder. I thought I could hear the hoard moving below us, maybe two floors down.

“It’s fine. I can make it fit,” she said, jostling more stuff in her bag.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the damn thing from her, slinging my crossbow strap over my shoulder. “Ya’d really rather split yer pack at the seams than take any fuckin’ help from me,” I murmured. I didn’t wait for an answer. I didn’t need one…

She stepped out of the closet and I caught her wiping her forearm across her forehead. It left a smear of dirt near her hairline. I had to pull myself back to the present. “So, how are we getting out of here?” she asked, adjusting her pack and the duffel bag strap on her shoulder.

I glanced at her, knowing she wasn’t gonna like my idea.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, you’ve obviously got something. Just get on with it.”

“Fire escape,” I said.

I watched the muscle in her jaw twitch as he jaw clenched. “Fuckin’ great…”

“Unless ya got somethin’ else—”

“You know I don’t,” she snapped back at me. She wiped a hand across her forehead again, swiping away fresh drops of sweat. “It’s—” She cut herself off. “Let’s just go,” she sighed, defeated.

I looked at her for a second more, trying to gauge just how freaked out she was, but it didn’t seem to matter. We didn’t have any other options.

“Let’s go,” she snapped again. “Before I change my mind about being able to handle this.”

“It ain’t—”

She squeezed her eyes shut and I watched her body tense. “I swear to god, Dixon, if you say ‘It ain’t that bad’ or ‘It ain’t that high’ right now, I will lose my shit and attract every fucking walker in this goddamn building. I don’t even give a fuck.” Her jaw muscle twitched.

I couldn’t help letting out a sigh that was more of a growl than anything but then I turned and headed for the window a couple doors down that I’d noticed was busted out. Leaning through, I scanned the outside of the building for a fire escape. Nothing on that side.

“It’s probably around the other side. Let’s try the end of the hall,” she suggested. Her boots stayed rooted to the floor and I glanced at her again. She caught my eyes and must have read the concern on my face.

“I’m fine. You’re the last person I need worrying about me,” she growled.

Fuck. She could be infuriating… I found my hand clenching and unclenching a few times before I followed her back out of the room.

She was right. There was a fire escape down that side. I grabbed a piece of metal off the floor and straightened up. “Ya ready?” I asked one more time. “They might hear this glass break so we gotta fuckin’ move.” I thought her hands were a bit shaky.

“Just do it,” she said. And this time, I could hear the quiver in her voice.

I smashed the window and knocked out the glass before pullin' myself through. The metal grates rattled under my boots and she looked suddenly sick as she approached the window sill. I hesitated a second before reaching a hand out to help her through.

“I’m fine,” she said. She didn’t look fine, but she gripped the ledge and climbed out. “Oh, fuck. Fuck…” she muttered as her feet landed on the platform. She was keeping her eyes fixed straight out. Even just the metal grates at th prison used to freak her out, and that was one floor.

I wanted to comfort her but… I wasn’t dumb enough to think it’d help or that she wanted me to, so instead I just started down the stairs at a good pace. She followed stiffly behind me, gripping onto the railing with white knuckles and falling behind.

Every once and a while I’d glance back and she looked like she was about to be sick, but she was still following. We hit a snag as we reached the third-floor platform. A large part of it had rusted and fallen away, leaving a gaping hole we would have to edge around to reach the next set of stairs.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” I heard her behind me and when I looked back her eyes were wide and round and she was clutching onto the railing like it was a lifeline.

“S’fine. I’ll cross first. Just keep over—”

“Oh, really, Daryl? I should keep over to the side? You mean I should stay away from the huge fucking hole in the goddamn floor?” It kept drawing her eyes and I’d see her rip them back up and away, reeling.

I knew that was mostly coming from the fact that she was fuckin’ terrified, but every harsh word from her still stung. “Fine. Clearly, yer good,” I spat back. “Ya don’t need me and ya don’t give a shit and yer fine. I fuckin’ got it.” So much for trying to calm her down. I edged past the hole in the metal grating and went down the next set of stairs. Finally, I just had to push down the ladder, climb down, and we’d be on solid ground again. But when I looked back up, she was still frozen where she had been, on the far side of the platform. I watched her for another minute, waiting to see if she’d move. I knew she wasn’t gonna ask for help, not from me, but she obviously needed it and tough shit, I’m the only damn person here. I rubbed a hand across the back of my neck, anxious to even try again, and climbed back up. I edged past the rusted-out hole and stopped next to her. “Just gimme yer hand.” She didn’t loosen her grip on the railing, and her eyes landed on my face. “S’fine. Just for two seconds, lemme fuckin’ help ya.”

Her chest was heaving with fearful breaths and I guess the idea of tryin’ to cross along that edge alone was worse than puttin’ her hand in mine. Part of me still thought she’d take the heights over me, but she didn’t… She pried her hand off the railing and placed it into mine. I—I can’t say my heart didn’t jump when my fingers closed around it. The motorcycle. The fuckin’ closet. Now this. We’d hardly been within six feet of each other for years and now all this in one day… I felt dizzy. It ain’t like Rick could have predicted these things would happen. He sure as shit couldn’t command a hoard to force us into each other in a tiny closet… but he must have been hopin’ for somethin’ by sendin’ us out here. Was it gonna work on her? I fuckin’ doubt it.

As we stepped along the edge of the edge of the platform, she held her breath. She always seemed like nothing in this fucked up world scared her anymore, nothing phased her. Half the time it almost seemed like she didn’t give a shit if she died. But this? Heights? This still scared her on some level she couldn't reason away.

But we made it across just fine. She was gripping onto me so tightly I thought she might have bruised the bones in my damn hand. And as we climbed down the next set of stairs, long past the danger, she was still holding onto me. But just as quickly as I realized it, she slipped her hand out and stiffened next to me again, fixing her eyes away toward the railing, which she grabbed onto again desperately.

We made it down the ladder, dropping onto the concrete and making a run back to my bike, slippin' from cover to cover, packs heavy and weighing us down. I was thinking how batshit crazy it was that we’d just done a hospital run and hadn’t had to kill a single walker AND managed to get all the damn supplies... when we rounded the last corner and a string of curses left her mouth.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. What the fuck?!” She knelt down next to my bike and as I looked, my stomach dropped.

“Son of a fuckin' bitch.” Both tires on my motorcycle were slashed. Ruined. Fuck.

We were stranded in the city without a runnin’ vehicle and somebody knew we were here.

[teddy06writes]

nonono I need more ANGST part 3 for out of his grasp/out of their grasp were reader comes back as a ghost like Ghostbur but remembers bad memories so she doesn’t remember Dream or George

Out of Their Grasp

{THIS IS THE NEW UPDATED VERSION BECAUSE APARENTLY THE FIRST VERSION WASN”T ANGSTY ENOUGH}

{real talk though I thought maybe I could change this to be more angsty cause I didn’t think the ghost thing would work}

requested by this anon: “hey hey I was wondering if you could do dream x George x reader fantasy/royal au (bc I just read "for his hand" and I love it so much!!) where reader and dream go to battle but only dream returns from it. and he has to tell George that reader died. the more angst the better😝💅”

and also this one: “will there be a part 2 of For His Hand? It’s so good, i loved it!”

{Technically you don’t have to read part one but I would recommend it because this one takes place in the same universe}

Dream x George x reader

trigger warnings: swearing, yelling, major character death, aGnSt

premise: war breaks out near the borders of the SMP, you and Dream are sent ahead of the royal party to the front lines in an attempt to stop any further battles until a peace can be reached when disaster strikes, leaving your partners to deal with the repercussions.

{dude I’m like manically laughing right now}

(y/n/n)- your nickname

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“It was just skirmishes, here and there for the last few weeks,” Sam gestured to a few spots near the northern boarder on the map spread out across the table, before pointing to another in the center of the rest, “But then, yesterday there was a huge attack on the villages, and our military bases in this valley.”

You glanced around the room, from person to person, gauging there reactions.

George had visibly stiffened in his seat, and behind him Dream seemed equal tense.

“Have we taken any measures to fight back?” Sapnap asked impatiently.

“How bad are the damages?” George asked, ignoring him.

Eret looked down at the report they’d been given, “There seems to have been more pillaging than raiding, they were breaking into peoples house, causing general destruction and looting, when our forces attempted to stop them they began to fight. All in all 30 of ours were killed and there was an estimated 10,000 in damages.”

George frowned, as Niki spoke up, “We should pay the people reparation's and help them with any reconstruction that needs to be done.”

Many people nodded, but next to you Sapnap was still unhappy, “Are we doing anything about the invaders? We cannot just sit here and allow them to attack the people!”

“Pushing, pushing.” You muttered.

The king looked at him for a long moment, before turning to Callahan, the scribe, “Attempt to negotiate a peace. I don’t want anymore bloodshed to curse this land.”

The man beside you groaned, and you were quick to elbow him in the side and Sam ended the meeting and everyone began to file out of the room, hissing, “I don’t know how they do things where you’re from but that is no way to behave in an advisory meeting. Next time you pull that shit you won’t be allowed back to one.”

-You had taken the new coming warrior on as a sort of apprentice after he’d first arrived at the palace, and it was clear the change of pace wasn’t something he was ready for-

“They can’t just stand by! The King is a fool if he thinks a peace can be reached like this!”

You glared at him. “The King is no fool.”

“You only say that out of obligation.” Sapnap fired back.

You recoiled, burned, before crossing your arms and starting out of the room, “You may be a trained mercenary but you haven’t the faintest idea as to how to hold yourself among this crowd. It will be the death of you.”

He followed you back toward your office, listening as you continued, “King George is a good and just man, to say that he is a fool is to say the sun is square. He has wiped this kingdom clean of many years of bloodshed.

“The Kings advisors, and cabinet are kind, respectable people, you must remember to hold your tongue  unless spoken too, and never say anything brash as you have done now, lest you make a greater fool of yourself.”

He huffed, “If I must stay silent in those meetings than how can I get my point across? Sending a messege to the enemy through force may be the only way!”

“Now you sound like Tommy, just as foolhardy and headstrong as the child,” You pushed the door to your office open, “I’m sure that Technoblade agrees with you, though he knows better than to speak freely.”

“If he agrees with me than perhaps it’s the right move.”

You turned to look at him quizzically, finally saying, “A wise king does not seek out war, no matter what his knights advise.”

Sapnap turned, “Then the lot of them are fools.”

“I have told you once to never disrespect the king, I suggest you don’t do it again. This land has seen it’s share of unjust rulers, be thankful you have not come here under worse authority.”

~~ That night, when the palace grew quiet, and the sky dark, you found yourself back in Dream’s quarters, an overtired, overstressed George having wedged himself between you two and refusing to move.

You sighed as Dream ran a hand through your sleeping partners hair, “He’s anxious.”

“I mean, can you blame him? War may be on the horizon.” Dream murmured.

“I meant even now- in the time of sleep. I think Sapnap is just adding fuel to the fire.”

Dream sighed, “If he has another outburst like that-”

“He’ll be cast out,” You nodded, “I know. He just needs to be willing to learn the way things go around here. In time he will learn.”

Your boyfriend chuckled to himself, “Fucking hotshot.”

“I think you’d like him, if you were able to spend more time with him.” You smiled.

“Well someone had to go snatch him up as an apprentice!”

“Well it was him or Ranboo, and Ranboo is far too- forgetful, for this sort of thing. I’d’ve had Tubbo but he and Tommy are a package set an you took ‘em.”

“What about Purpled?”

You rolled your eyes, “He started an apprenticeship with Punz ages ago.”

“SHHhhhhhhh, ‘m tryin’ to sleep.” George muttered, burying his face in your shoulder.

In the darkness of the chamber you could barley make out Dream’s eyes sparkling as he took your hand, “Course love, course.”

~~

As the weeks continued the damages on the northern boarder only seemed to grow, the new invaders claiming three of the villages there own.

There was yet another large attack on the town that had been damaged the first time, this time a direct threat left etched on the walls, ‘You have made my people suffer, and now yours shall feel the same’

“Militia, both local and our own soldiers have taken it upon themselves to fight back, almost a hundred lived lost to each side.” The silence in the room grew deafening as Sam finished reading his report, not even Sapnap daring to speak.

“Your Majesty?” Bad hazarded, “What is our next course of action?”

George frowned, glancing around the room, “Peace is still the priority. Maybe- maybe we call a ceasefire, I could meet with there ruler-”

“No,” Dream interrupted, drawing all eyes to him, “It would be too dangerous. How do we know they can be trusted to lay down there arms?”

George shot him a look, “How do we know that we haven’t done anything to provoke them? Whatever we have done wrong we need to fix it. If we can work something out then people will be spared on both sides.”

“Shall we arrange for a ceasefire?” Eret asked.

The King nodded as Wilbur spoke up, “We could set up a meeting place, on neutral ground, possibly similar to the holy lands, so there would be no worry of a security breech.”

Dream seemed to relax at this, and then eyes were turned to you and Sapnap, representing the royal guard, “We can, but even so we should stay vigilant, perhaps send a group ahead with the runners to see too it.” You said, noting the gratitude on Dream’s face, as well as the slight annoyance on George’s.

“Well I see no one better to attend to the King’s safety than you,” Bad said, “You shall go with the party, and Technoblade with you, Sapnap can remain here to take over your day to day duties.”

The man in question quietly shot you a pleading look, at which you sighed, “With all do respect I think Sapnap could be better severing to the crown if he joined the running party.”

Bad glanced around to the others, looking for any objections before shrugging, “We can find someone else to do the work. So that’ll be you, Technoblade, Sapnap, and we can send the usual scouting party, and Sam shall go with again.”

~~

You sighed, tracing an absent pattern on George’s side, listening to Dream’s ramble about how dangerous the idea that had been decided on at the meeting was.

“Finding peace is the priority, you can’t can’t change that.” George mumbled.

“That doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous!” Dream protested.

“It’ll be fine, We’ll have a perimeter set up with guards and everything. I’ll make sure none of them can even get near him with such intent.” You yawned.

The blonde huffed, “That just makes me more worried.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Your hand blindly sought his, “I’m going to do everything in my power to keep the ceasefire from being broken.”

“I know.” Was the only quiet response you received.

The next morning found you suiting up and heading out to the stables to tack up your horse. Techno was already down there, idly chatting with Phil as he readied Carl for the journey, and out in the courtyard you could see Sapnap talking to two men.

“Good morning, (y/n)!” Phil chirped, waving your direction.

“Morning Phil.” You moved down the row, reaching out and letting Beckerson nuzzle into your palm.

After getting your horse cared for and saddled, the rest of the party had headed out of the stables as your partners entered.

George took your hand, “Don’t start any more trouble.”

“Sounds like your talking to Dream not me.” You chuckled.

“Hey!” Dream protested.

“I’m not wrong!” You teased.

George rolled his eyes, quickly pulling you in for a kiss, “Make things good for me to be out there.”

“Stay out of trouble.” Dream advised, pulling you away from George to kiss you himself.

“You underestimate me.” You smirked, grabbing Bekerson’s reigns.

Dream rolled his eyes as you started to lead the horse out of the stable, calling, “And stay safe!”

“I’ll see you in five days!” You chuckled, heading out of the stables and quickly mounting your horse, kicking at his sides to catch up with the others.

~~ The last few days had been spent anxiously waiting, and now the journey to the norther board was coming to a close.

Dream rode alongside the carriage, eyes following the strange trail of smoke on the horizon; something was wrong, he could feel it.

The quiet, almost calm of the morning was slowly being cut through by a growing noise, and then finally shattered as one of the runners sent ahead to signal their arrival came crashing through the trees looking panicked.

“What’s going on?” Punz asked.

“They attacked! They broke the ceasefire!”

Dream’s brain surged with panic as he turned to where George and his advisors were starting to climb out of the carriage asking why they had stopped, “Turn around! It isn’t safe here! Go! Punz! Tommy! Ponk! Get them out of here!”

Before he could even stop to see if they were following his orders he was rushing forward down the road, urging Spirit to go faster as the road widened into the village.

Dream was met with nothing but chaos, the royal insignia’s on the tents set up in the field were aflame, and the clashing of swords filled his ears as the royal army and the few commoners who could fought back against the pillaging people.

“About time you showed up!” Sapnap yelled from halfway across the field, “We could use some fucking help!”

“No shit!” Dream yelled back, dismounting and unsheathing his sword.

Almost immediately another person came barley towards him, throwing him into combat.

He cut his way across the field, taking down people here and there, still searching the carnage for you.

Eventually he made it to where Sapnap had just disarmed and knocked out another opponent, “Where are they?”

His eyes danced around the wreckage, “Could be anywhere, saw ‘em trying to get the townspeople out of the way.”

Dream cursed, running off the direction of the village, calling you name.

The fighting continued, the addition of the extra royal guardsmen helping turn the tide of the battle, though Dream still couldn’t locate you on the battle field.

The invaders, or what was left of there battalion began to retreat, but still Dream could find no sign of you, the now all too quiet valley erupted into noise as another skirmish broke out.

Taking off at a sprint he made it up the hill to find you locked in combat with another warrior.

You panted, throwing up you shield to block another strike from his axe before shoving forward and swing your sword at his spear wielding hand.

He wasn’t excepting this, and the spear clatter out of his hand, the shock on his face giving you enough momentum to keep pushing forward, throwing attack after attack at the man as he edged backward.

You had just managed to shove him to the ground when a cry broke your attention.

“(Y/N)!!”

You turned to see Dream, smiling, words starting to form on your lips as a spear suddenly drove through your chest.

“NO!!!!!” Dream shrieked, charging forward and quickly slashing at the mans throat before turning to where you had fallen in the grass.

“T-that one was your fault.” You mumbled as he did his best to pull your shaking body into his arms, “You-ou had t-to go distract-ing me.”

“I know,” tears flooded his eyes, “It’s gonna be okay, I’m gonna get help.”

You did your best to smile through your fear, “What would G-George say if he saw you here cuddling m- m- me without him? Huh?”

“(Y/n)....”

“Bad time for a joke I guess,” you shaky voice was disrupted by a painful cough wracking your body, “Never real-really planned on being r-r-ran through with a spear this morning.”

“It’s gonna be okay! It’s- it’s gonna be okay!” Dream desperately pushed your hair out of your face, head whipping around to where the royal soldiers were beginning to regroup, “WE- I need a medic! Please! We need a medic!”

It was the first time you’d ever heard him sound so distraught, gently you reached up to his face, “Dream- Clay, leave it alone, they won’t be able to- to do anythi-ng.”

You coughed again as he turned back to you, “Don’t say that! Don’t say that!”

“It’s just my time d-d-darling,” You gasped at the pain brought by him trying to pull you closer, “You- you gotta let go.”

“NO! You’re not gonna die! You’re not gonna leave! I won’t let you!”

“I d- don’t have your permission to d-die?” The spots floating in your vision began to grow larger, blocking out spot of his face, and the sky.

“No! You don’t! You’re not leaving! I’m not letting you!” He said desperately.

“You’ve- g-got too...”

He glared down through the valley, barking out, “I said I need a medic! Someone! Please! They need help!”

There were people hurrying up the hill now, not that you could see, as Dream continued to yell.

The spots began to grow even bigger, merging together until darkness fully overtook you and you slipped from there grasp, “I’m sorry...”

Dream tore his gaze from the approaching medical team, looking down at your now limp body, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no-”

“You can’t leave! You- your not allowed to leave us! You- you can’t- I- I didn’t give you permission to die!”

He blubbered, still trying to pull you closer to him, as if he held you tighter you wouldn’t have slipped away.

“You can’t go! I didn’t say you could go! You can’t leave! You can’t.....”

Then people were pulling you away from him, and Sapnap was pulling him up, and leading him away.

~~

“Your highness, news of the attack on the boarder has returned.”

George stopped his anxious pacing a Wilbur led in a scarily calm Technoblade and a visibly shaking Dream into the room, Sapnap still with a firm grip on his shoulder.

“What happened? Where’s (y/n)?”

Dream started to shake more at the mention of your name, and Techno stepped forward, “(y/n)- died in combat two days ago.”

George stayed silent, so he continued, “They died a hero’s death defending our kingdom.”

The king waved them away, “Out, please.”

Wilbur nodded, and quickly Sapnap and Technoblade followed him out of the room, leaving Dream to slowly move toward George, pulling him into his arms, tears coming from both men.

“It was my fault. They were fighting- an- and I distracted them.”

“You- you what?” George croaked.

“I wasn’t thinking,” He said quietly, ducking his head as George pulled away, “Th- they died in my arms George!”

“Wh- what have you done?”

Dream looked at him in shock, “What do you mean?”

“Tell me what happened.” It was a command, said in a way Dream had never heard directed at him.

“I got there- there was fighting, when the fighting died down I still couldn’t find them- then I heard another fight- on the ridge, I got up there, and It seemed like they had won, I yelled there name- and-” He broke off, barley muffling a sob.

“You all but killed them yourself.” George muttered.

“I didn’t- th- I- George.” Dream grappled for words.

“You killed them.”

“I didn’t! George I know it’s my fault, but-”

The King just shook his head, turning and silently stalking out of the room.

~~

The castle seemed to stay in mourning for weeks, the kings council having to take over as the king stayed shut up in his chambers, refusing to talk to anyone.

The King’s Knight became more and more vocal during meetings, providing insight on how to get back at the enemy, amplifying Sapnap’s voice.

Then, as plans were being finalized, Dream was met by another figure as he sat in front of your grave.

“You think this will make up for what you’ve done?” Georges voice was horse, rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in days, though still laced with the same venom as when he’d found out.

Dream nodded, remaining quiet as he traced the hilt of his blade.

“Tomorrow then?”

Again Dream nodded, looking down at the copy of the note that had been sent to the enemy:

‘Holy water cannot stop me now, a thousand armies couldn’t keep me out. I don’t want your money, I don’t want your crown, see I’ve come to burn your kingdom down’

[jobean12-blog]

Finders Keepers

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,344

Summary: Oreos, Bucky’s Henley and scary movies...

Author’s Note: This is for the continuation of the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club drunk drabbles and the super fun prompt sent in below. It’s very hard for me to pass up red Henley beefy bucky prompts of any kind. Thank you for this one! I hope you like it! Thank you all for reading! Much love always ❤❤❤

Warnings: Fluff, scary movie with CLOWNS!, flirting, teasing, sassy and sexy Bucky :)

You love being a part of the Avengers team. It had only been a short time since you joined but they accepted you like family. That’s how you found yourself currently sandwiched between the arm rest of the couch and Bucky during movie night. It was Steve’s brilliant idea to watch the remake of ‘It’ and although you told them a million times you were terrified of clowns, they insisted, team bonding and all that.

So now you’re curled into a ball with your head hidden under a pillow and Bucky’s warm body next to yours. A sudden streak of light invades your safe space as Bucky lifts the pillow and peeks his head under. “You ok in here, doll?” You crack open your eyes and focus on his bright blue ones. “Um. Yea. I think. Is the clown gone yet?”

Bucky looks out over the pillow, quickly sneaking back under. “No. He’s not.” You close your eyes again and just nod, hoping he drops the pillow soon. Instead you feel his strong arms wrap around you, turning your body into his and pulling you to his chest. Without looking up you snuggle against his soft tee shirt and take a deep breath, your fingers instinctively gripping the material.

His metal hand combs through your hair, gently twirling the strands around his fingers and you start to relax. At one point he taps your shoulder and you look at him. He smiles, motioning toward the TV and the scrolling end credits. You sit up with a bolt. “It’s over!?” you shout in glee. Bucky throws his head back in laughter and curls his finger under your chin, “yep, the clown is gone doll.”

His gaze drops to your lips before he clears his throat. “Want something to drink?” Not trusting yourself to speak you simply nod a yes, watching as he walks to the kitchen. He reaches the counter and grabs two glasses from the cabinet, filling them with cold water.

You find it hard to tear your eyes away from his body, the tight tee shirt doing nothing to hide his broad chest and bulging biceps. When he sits his shirt rides up and your eyes widen as you catch a glimpse of the soft patch of hair just above the waistband of his pants.

Grabbing the glass of water, you chug half of it hoping to cool yourself off. “Thirsty?” he asks with a chuckle. You almost choke on your drink, realizing that he probably knows you’ve been enjoying the view. “Yea, I didn’t drink anything the whole movie. Too scared to come out of hiding,” you say, hoping to diffuse some of the tension. “I really hate clowns.”

His metal arm rests on the back of the couch and his fingers brush yours as he asks, “any particular reason or just the obvious?” You try to focus on talking but your body is making it difficult, practically humming under his touch. “No childhood trauma or anything like that, just the fact that they are obviously terrifying!”

“I get it. If I had to pick, I’d rather fight an army of aliens!” You laugh, loving how his eyes crinkle around the corners at the sound. “A big, strong guy like you. I think you could take on some clowns.” You say the words while your eyes roam across his wide shoulders, smiling again once your gaze meets his. “So, you think I’m…”

“Hey Bucky. Have you seen my Oreos? I know you’re always stealing and eatin’ ‘em!” You look over Bucky’s shoulder to find a very pissed off Sam standing at the island in the kitchen. Bucky’s jaw clenches as he turns to look at Sam. “This time it wasn’t me. Check Parker’s room, last time I stole them he was eyein’ them too!” Sam stalks off in a huff, mumbling under his breath and Bucky laughs turning back to you.

He opens his mouth to speak only to be cut off again, this time by Peter’s screech as he flies into the common room, Oreos in hand. “HELP!” he shouts, sandwiching himself between you and Bucky. “What the hell Parker! What has your underoos twisted?” Not a second later, Sam walks in the room in a flurry of flying hands and curses. “If you don’t give me back my cookies…” he threatens Peter.

You discreetly reach out, snatching the Oreos from Peter’s hands and running for your life. You manage to make it to your door, opening and closing it so quickly you make wind. With a click you lock it, leaning against the wood. A loud knock vibrates through your head. “Y/n, if you don’t open this door and gimme back my cookies.”

With a snicker you press your face to the wood. “Nope. I’m gonna pour some milk right now and enjoy a few. You’ll get back what’s left later. You all need to learn to share!” You walk away from Sam’s loud knocks and shouts, putting on your music and getting the milk. After enjoying a few cookies, you turn down the music and listen at the door, hearing no sign of any of the boys.

Smiling to yourself you change into your pjs of a tank top and shorts and quietly open the door. Cookies in hand you creep down the hallway toward the kitchen. No one is around and you set the cookies back in Sam’s usual hiding spot, laughing to yourself at the fact none of them realize you knew where it was. You make some tea and go to sit on the couch.

Plopping your butt down you feel something balled up beneath it and quickly stand, picking up what looks to be a shirt. You unravel the material and smooth your hands over the soft red fabric. It’s huge so you’re guessing it must belong to one of the guys. Bringing it up to your nose you inhale, a familiar smell washing over you. You’re still not positive who it belongs to though, so you fold it nicely and set it down on the table.

Settling on the couch you drink your tea while watching some cooking shows, enjoying the quiet. Placing your empty teacup down you shiver, the hot liquid no longer warming your body. Your eyes land on the red Henley on the table and you shrug. Taking the shirt, you unfold it and slowly place it over your head. The soft material feels amazing against your bare arms. It nearly falls to your knees and you giggle, wrapping it closer to your body.

“I see you like to take things that don’t belong to you.” Your body stills at the sound of Bucky’s deep voice, his hot breath next to your ear. You snap your head around and come face to face with him, his lips curled up into a smirk. “I didn’t take it. I’m just…borrowing it.” He slowly walks around the couch, his eyes never leaving yours. “Oh yea. Usually you ask people before you borrow their stuff.”

Crossing your arms over your chest you huff, “well! I don’t know who it belongs to. I was cold. So.” Bucky inches closer, his tall frame towering over you. When his body brushes against yours you’re enveloped by the same smell from before. The same smell that’s on the shirt you’re wearing right now.

“This is your red Henley isn’t it.” It’s more of a statement than a question and when you look up at his face you know you’re in trouble. The best kind. “Mmmm hmmm.” His hand reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before trailing down your cheek. “You can keep it though.” Your face lights up but not before he continues with, “on one condition. Tell me how you figured out where Sam hides his cookies and let me take you out on a date. Whaddya say?” Standing up on your tippy toes you place a soft kiss to his cheek, whispering, “that’s two things. And the answer is yes to both.”

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @addikted-2-dopamine @azurika-writes @book-dragon-13 @bugsbucky @bucky-on-my-mind @buckys-broody-muffin @devynsdiary @emilylyoness @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hailmary-yramliah @hawksmagnolia @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @imgaril-lindru @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @breezy1415 @kaosera @yansi1923 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelgirl7 @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @scarletsoldierrr @softpeachbarnes​ @the-wayward-robot​ @when-the-hell-is-bucky​ 

[slasherkisss]

CABIN FEVER - JASON VOORHEES X READER [CHAPTER 8]

Summary In an effort to remove yourself from your previous life in the big city, you move to Crystal Lake. The cabin you had inherited from your father makes the perfect place for a fresh start, however, there is a secret in these woods (and within yourself) that you must come to accept…and to love.

A/N I finally managed to get some muse for this again! I have an idea of where I’m going to go with it and I can’t wait to actually finish this project, I’m gonna do it if it kills me. Here’s the next chapter at least...a year later lol 

——————————————————————————————

Months passed between the day of slaughter, and something inside of you felt heavy even after the deed had been said and done.

True to his word, Jason had taken care of everything. You had woken up the day after the Incident to clean sheets and the disappearance of both blood and body in your mind. It was as though the back of your head was trying desperately to push the thoughts of slaughter from you. To lock it away inside of your subconscious in a way that you would never be able to reach it again. It was something you didn’t need to remember, your brain insisted with desperation lacing the tone it usually took when it spoke to you, and you should simply accept that it would never be like that again.

The nightmares did not let you forget, though.

Each night seemed plagued with them, some more grueling than the other. More desperate in its plaintiveness each time you thought through the story that played within it. Your body in each dream pushed itself through dark, craggy forests and against the bare ground of soil. Roots curled with hunger at your legs as you chased your victim, breath heaving and weapon tight in your fist as you caught up to the terrified little thing. Your weapon always seemed to change in the time of your rest. Sometimes it was the trowel, pointed at its tip and built only for tilling the earth, and other times it was a machete with a glimmering blade and reflective steel like teeth bared for murder.

Sometimes, you were the one running from yourself. Your own form silhouetted in the darkness as you chased down who you knew you had to kill. Sometimes you tripped on the edges of roots so thick they might as well have been hands, and looked up into your own wild gaze. Your own form as you shakily held up the trowel against your fingertips. Sometimes it was you who screamed into the darkness as the weapon fell down into your skull and - oh - you could feel the pain in your body as the pressure drowned you in rivulets of dark red against soil.

You woke up more often than not during the night now, the nightmares ripping through your body in the form of a loud, shaky scream that would fill the forest late into the evening. You found yourself more than once awoken by Jason. His hands would cling to your sides and be pressing you firmly into the bed, keeping your arms away from yourself as what cuts you had given your skin due to your ragged nails blossomed over you. It was as though you were trying to write a message into your own body. If you squinted close enough, the lines you had scribbled with your keratin on the soft flesh or your inner arm were almost readable in their entirety.

Your fault. You did this. She’s dead. It was you! Always you.

As you pondered the threats of the voice inside of your head, staring idly at the slowly healing scars that littered your body now, you were pulled away by a knock at the door. It was a pounding and forceful thing that sent your already sensitive head reeling into a momentary headache. You could feel the pain behind your teeth and you could already tell it would slowly become a migraine after a few more hours of leaving it be. You were sure you had some pain killers somewhere left in your bathroom’s medicine cabinet. If not, you mused, you had willow bark and some rosemary out in your steadily growing garden. You could always whip up a remedy for it using those.

The second solid knock on the door made you more weary as you approached it, however. It was not how Jason knocked. He did so gently, afraid of breaking your doorframe if he slammed on it too hard. He never wanted to startle you with his force and, besides, as of late you’ve been allowing him to simply walk into your home without knocking. It was his home now as much as yours and the thought permeated your weariness to offer a fleeting touch of euphoria.

The third knock was accompanied by a voice.

“Hello? Is anyone home?”

You tensed, palms suddenly sweaty as you stared at the doorknob. You felt your stomach lurch in terror as you chewed on the inside of your cheek, biting down hard enough to feel the skin give into a bruising press of your molars. Jason was not due back from his daily patrol of the lake for an hour still. Likewise, he did not speak. He did not have a voice like that. Rough. Open. Unknown.

With a deep, long inhale you gripped the doorknob and slowly opened it up, the old wood creaking with every turn. You made a mental note to oil its hinges when you could.

The man standing in front of you was middle aged, the graying of the hairs littered in his beard giving it away that he was pushing closer to his 50s at the earliest. The thin lines of his wispy hair were hidden behind a dark brown Stetson rimmed with a small tassel of gold and a badge that indicated his status as a police officer from the local town station. Your mind could not read the words decorated on his tanned uniform. They floated against his skin like ancient hieroglyphs as you gripped the doorknob of your home tighter. Your knuckles turned white behind the frame.

You felt a cold rush of air hit your body and you stiffened, brows furrowing as you tried to act surprised and not as terrified as you felt beneath your skin.

“Afternoon, Ma’am,” The officer tilted his hat respectfully at you, “Sorry to bother you in… Your home. I just had a couple of questions for you regarding a few missing folks if that’s alright.”

You did not miss the pause in his tone as he looked around the forest, clearly uncomfortable in the vast outdoor space. You almost wanted to snort. Wasn’t it his job to patrol the woods? To keep hooligans and stupid hunters out of here in the first place? No, he wasn’t even doing that. Instead it was Jason who protected this forest. Who kept everything within it safe, far better than this fool who stood before you could ever do. You shifted on your feet, ignoring the damp spot of sweat growing on the back of your neck.

“Y-Yes that’s quite alright,” You managed out in a surprisingly even tone, your stutter passing as surprise for seeing an officer so suddenly, “It’s horrible to hear some people are missing, especially this time of year.”

“I know,” He sounded almost genuine in his remorse, “That’s why we’re asking around in case anyone’s seen them. Last I heard from another source, they were up camping out in the forest area around here. I figured since you lived up here, you’d be able to tell me if you’ve seen anything of ‘em around or close to your property? Have you ever walked around the forest and caught sight of some folks? Or seen any campsites set up close by, maybe?”

Your mind flashed to the images of the bodies dead on the forest floor, their red blood soaking into the mossy ground. Dead eyes stared forward at you in your mind, glossy with haze and their faces contorted into fear as their brains decorated the edges of tree trunks around you. You remembered the woman, your spade lowered into her skull and her blood warm on your hands as you watched her still pulsating organs devour themselves in an ouroboros of sin.

“Ma’am?”

You looked up with surprise, snapping yourself out of your momentary disassociation. You swallowed and sighed.

“Sorry, I was thinking if I’d seen anyone,” You were surprised how easily the lie left your lips as you shook your head, “Unfortunately, I haven’t seen anything but the deer lately. As far as I know, no one’s been around here.”

There was a momentary pause in the conversation. A quiet lapse as the officer gazed forward at you, a furrow to his brow marking his concern. Your heart pounded hard in your chest, moving its way up to your throat. He knew, you thought with terror rising in your veins, he knew that you were lying. That you had done it. He saw through your lies and into your soul. Into your sins and-

“Alright,” He nodded, “Thanks for your input. Now you don’t hesitate to call the station if you see any suspicious activity in this place, alright? It’s dangerous living alone in this forest, but rest assured we’ll keep it under control.”

“It’s been pleasant so far,” You find yourself speaking out softly, almost with a smile, “But I… appreciate the security, Officer…”

“Hughes. Darcy Hughes,” He introduced himself, his smile lines emphasizing his age as he gave you a brisk nod, “Take care of yourself and don’t get into any trouble, then.”

“I’ll certainly do my best.”

With another tilt of his hat and a hum to his lips, he turned away from you to file back into his police car that he had brought out, the top of it already slightly covered by fallen pine needles and leaves. He brushed them off gently before getting back in, offering one last wave to you through his windshield. You waved back, a smile plastered on your face as you watched him start up his vehicle, back out of the dirt driveway, and turn down the barely wide enough path to the town once more.

You didn’t stop waving until you were sure his car was out of sight. Slowly you turned back into your home, closing the door behind you, where you stood for a long, quiet moment.

Your legs shook the next second, trembling so hard that they gave out from underneath you. You collapsed to the floor, gasping for a breath you didn't realize you had been holding this whole time. You coughed, wincing at the pain of splinters gathering in your kneecaps, and you threw your hands out to catch yourself as you heaved. For a moment you felt like you were going to vomit onto the floor in front of you, but your throat was so dry with exhaustion that nothing dared to come up and ruin its scratchy heat.

You did it. You had made it out of that situation. Yet the weight on your shoulder burned like a brand, searing an invisible mark into your flesh as you cried out in pain, arching your back as if to escape the sensation.

Liar, your mind laughed at you, what a liar, lair, lair-

A new knock on the door startled you from your writhing episode on your floor. Your face paled in terror. Was the officer back? Maybe you could ignore his knocking. Maybe you could pretend to be in the back of your house and ignore the sound that scratched on your eardrums like a funeral march. Perhaps it was Jason? Returning early from his patrol and sensing your distress behind the door of your home? Your heart momentarily sparked with hope as you stood up on your feet again, feeling light headed as you turned and reached out, wincing at the feeling of the knob beneath your hand once again.

When you pulled it open this time, it was neither Hughes nor Jason. But someone new.

He was an older man, older than Officer Hughes certainly, with barely any hair on his wrinkled, liver-spotted forehead. The way his lip shriveled around his mouth indicated his lack of teeth, his sagging cheeks only serving to make the glare of dark brown eyes he trailed on you all the more intimidating. He stepped forward, invading your space the moment you opened the door. The scent of alcohol was radiating off of him, making you want to gag and cover your mouth as you took one step back into your home, swallowing hard.

“C...Can I help you?”

“Saw you talkin with Officer Friendly there,” He growled out with a raise of his eyebrow, “Told him you didn’t see nothin, didn’t ya?”

“Well, yes I-”

“Been a while since you been in town too, huh?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. It was true, you rarely visited the small town just outside of Crystal Lake. Since your self sustaining farm had taken off, you really only visited for canned goods to stock up on during the winter, or to sell some of your fresh produce to the local grocery store for a little extra money in your pocket here and there. When you did visit, you rarely talked to any of the locals that did not demand your immediate business. You exhaled, your fingertips drumming on the wood of your door.

“I haven’t had a need to.”

The man smiled, confirming your hypothesis on his missing teeth.

“Ya may have fooled the police, girl, but oh I know. I know just what you are, you know. Ain’t gonna pull the wool over ol’ Eddie’s eyes, oh no siree.”

He - Eddie you guessed - got closer to you, his eyes narrowing in a squint as you set your jaw in worry.

“Yer a witch, ain’t ya.” The way he said it didn’t mean it was a question, “Livin out here with yer potions and yer nature. I bet ya killed those folks, too! But oh, it don’t matter. You got em fooled, don't you?”

He was advancing more now, dangerous in his posture towards you as you swallowed hard. You stepped back into your home, moving your grip on the door to quickly shut it, but his boot clad foot blocked the entrance so it didn’t shut all the way. You gasped as he crawled through the gap, a spider with crazed eyes and gnashing jaws as he reached out for you with a glare.

“I knew you’d be trouble since ya came! Changing our town’s ways an communin out here with them spirits. Y’ain’t gonna fool me, not me! You’ll get turned right in and they’ll see ya for what ya are, ya witch! Ya daughter of Satan! Ya-”

He suddenly wasn’t there anymore. With a surprised yelp his entire form was peeled away from your door. You held your breath in surprise, your heart beating loud in your ears as you waited for another sign that he would come in. That he would break the door down and rip apart your form in search of his evidence. In search of anything to call you a witch once more. You looked at your hearth of bones and dried plants, setting your jaw as you understood the accusations, but did not want to hear them.

Instead all you heard outside was another strangled gasp of surprise. A solid snap of something fragile. A thud of body to wood.

You waited a few more seconds before gripping the frame in trembling hands, slowly peeling the door open to reveal what had happened just feet from you in your home.

Eddie’s head was bent to face his back, his eyes wide and dead in shock as his jaw hung limply, broken and bruising the tender skin of his old face. Only a small amount of blood dribbled from the dislocation of his jaw and neck, the tendons bursting against the bruising skin. His fingers curled in on themselves like a dead spider would curl its legs on itself. You stared, blank and unsure for the longest of moments as your heartbeat slowed in your chest. As you licked your suddenly too chapped lips in an effort to hold back your growing smile.

You failed, exhaling as the edges of your mouth upturned into something of a wide, relieved looking grin. You looked upwards from the crumpled body before you, a blush heating your cheeks as you admired the man standing in front of it, his breath coming in ragged gasps against his chest as he followed your gaze.

Jason reached out to you, ignoring the body on your porch. His fingertips roamed the vast expanse of your skin, feeling for any wounds or any indication that you had been hurt before he could reach out to protect you. When you gave a swift sign of ‘I’m fine’ his shoulders sagged in relief. His gaze returned momentarily to the body at his side. One hand reached up to his form, the awkwardness of signing with just a single one making it hard to read but understandable nonetheless. He refused to let go of you for even a moment.

‘What happened?’

‘Police came. Townsfolk are getting suspicious.’

The hand on your shoulder tensed, the pressure in creasing for only a moment.

‘Then I’ll kill them.’

‘No! You can’t get all of them.’

‘I want you to be safe.’

‘I’m safe with you. Always with you.’

Jason paused then, his hand finally freeing your arm as he looked away. He gazed down at the body in front of him, its tangled limbs and broken spine an homage to just what he would do for you. As if aiding in his thoughts, the wind blew gently through the trees. Fallen leaves swirled upwards in a momentary tornado. In the background, your chickens clucked in their coops and the soil housing both your plants and the dead bodies gathered for fertilizer filled Jason with a suddenly intense sort of want. He looked back at you. Through his mask you could see conviction. Surprised at the look, you tilted your head at him, brows furrowed in confusion. You reached your hand out to touch his face, rubbing along the rough edges of his hockey mask in a gentle gesture, one he leaned into as your touch grounded him.

“What’s wrong?” You spoke this time, your tone a weak whisper as you searched his gaze, “What are you thinking about?”

How he knew the next sign was beyond you, yet he moved his fingertips with such conviction that you could not help the heart stopping gasp that welled inside of you when he managed it:

‘Marry me.’

[vanillann]

busted lip kisses (steve rogers x reader)

a/n: i love steve rogers with my whole heart, it’s so sad!! also this is kinda a college au! because i’ve been obsessed with them lately

word count: 1.5k

warning: mention of fighting, blood, swearing, implied smut (nothing graphic), and TALK OF A GUY BEING A REAL CREEP

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I knew Steve Rogers never backed down from a fight, it was a simple known fact, but when I swung open my door accepting Wanda and found a bloody Steve I was definitely in a state of shock.

Rightfully so.

“What the hell!” I reached for his arm on the door frame, wrapping it lightly around my shoulder. Steve tried to get my name from his lips but instead came a small drop of blood.

“Holy shit!”

“L-languag-e,” his words were spaced out, the single word sounded like a whole paragraph falling from his lips, yet he still had the tiniest smirk on his lips.

I didn’t say anything about his comment, normally I would be making fun of his outburst as he would say “a sailor couldn’t curse as much as you” but I brushed it off and moved him deeper into the apartment.

Wanda and Shuri were supposed to be here by now, but after bar surfing, you knew better than you assume they would be home before three in the morning.

Steve stumbled deeper into the apartment, making it to one of the stools at the kitchen island. His head rested on the cold surface and I could tell by the way he hid his face from the light he had a headache.

I flipped the overhead light off, using the smile night light Wanda bought and the little lap on the counter for light.

“Did you fight a biker gang?”

I didn’t wait for an answer, running past him and my homework that definitely wouldn’t get done now, into the little bathroom. I heard him yell my name and him begging me to come back but my fingers were reading over the different bottles.

Once I found the last set of badges I closed the cabinet, shocked to find Steve leaning against the door frame with a little pout on his busted lip.

“I don’t need t-that,” he stuttered out, his body suddenly going limp in the doorway, sending him to the floor of the doorway.

“Shit Steve,” I moved to sit on the floor beside him, studying his face as she shook himself from the little trace.

“I drank too much.”

I rolled my eyes, readying to get him comfortable so I could get my phone and call either Bucky or Sam, praying they weren’t the ones who got him in this mess and then left him on the doorstep. While it didn’t sound like them I couldn’t help but question.

“How much did you drink?”

“Actually not a lot, just feels like it. After he smashed my head into the table I started feeling like this,” she spoke absentmindedly as if his words weren’t making me worry more.

My hands shaky grabbed the alcohol wipes, opening a pack and pulling out the whip.

“This might burn,” I didn’t get him time before I wiped the cut on his lip, which earned an overdramatized win and I knew he was either drunker than he says or he did hit his head hard, Steve Roger wasn’t a whiner.

“I’m sorry, you have a test tomorrow,” he was suddenly coming back, placing his hand on the floor as if he was going to leave but I placed my hand over his, stopping him immediately.

“You aren’t leaving.”

He didn’t question me, slowly sitting back to the floor of the bathroom as he watched me clean up the blood in his eyebrow and trying to avoid the black eye.

Shuri was the doctor in training, not me.

“Just tell me what happened?”

Steve stopped looking at me for the first time since he sat down, his eyes trained on the hinges of the bathroom door.

“Steve, please.”

I hated the way my voice was begging, but this was Steve we were talking about. Like I said earlier, Steve didn’t back down from a fight, but he never fought because he got bored.

There was always a reason, a real reason.

“You didn’t hear them,” he spoke under his breath, his voice far away like he wasn’t on the same campus as me.

“Who?”

I gently moved to sit shoulder to shoulder with him, placing his hand in my lap while I cleaned up his bloody knuckles. The bruises were already forming and I wonder how long ago he was beating someone up before he walked into my house and gave me puppy dog eyes.

“Rumlow,” I rolled my eyes at hearing his name. The jerk was a grade A ass who just happened to be captain of the football team.

What a cliche.

“What did Rumlow do this time? Did he say something about Bucky again?” I could only guess what stupid name he had given Bucky or Same this time, as he normally stuck to Bird Brains and Robobitch.

“It wasn’t them, he was talking about you.”

I dropped his hand in my lap, turning to study the side of his face with a frown. He still didn’t look at me but I saw the look in his eyes. He was reliving as we spoke.

“Why?”

“He was talking about having a class with Wanda-” he stopped, taking in a sharp breath and I watched him bawl a bit with my sweatpants in his hand, “talking about how he was going to partner with her to get closer to you.”

I knew that wasn’t it, Rumlow would have to get nastier than that for Steve to snap like this.

“What else Rogers?”

“Said he was going to sneak into your room and take your undergarments.”

I felt the vile build up in my throat, I suddenly felt small and the thought of him being on the same campus as me.

“So you punched him?”

“Not exactly, I smashed a glass over his head.”

I gasped, turning to look at the side of his face better. I was in shock for sure, he wasn’t one to do things like this. No matter what it was always a view, punches, and once he choked a dude for like a single second, but smashing glasses over someone's head?

“What the hell Steve?”

“I told you (Y/N), you didn’t hear ‘em,” I knew better than to ask who else saw, his eyes were already filled with rage just telling me around Rumlow.

The only thing he hated more than bullies were bystanders.

“I understand that Steve, but smashing a glass over his head!”

“Did you not hear what I just told you?” Steve finally looked at me and it took everything in me not to back away. He looked like he could slap someone in half at this point.

“I get that Steve, it’s fucking gross but I’m not some girl that you need to defend my honor! I’m your friend-” his hand slammed into the tile of the bathroom, his eye looking deep into my own.

“Don’t you see, I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your neck!”

Suddenly I was more scared of his words than him because I could have sworn he just said he wanted to kiss my neck.

“You must be concussed,” my words were barely above a whisper as I spoke.

“Trust me, I’m not.”

His harsh jaw was softer now, his lips frowning as he looked at me. That was the scary part, how he looked at me. You don’t expect someone to look at you like a siren until they are.

You don’t expect someone like Steve Rogers swinging at a stupid boy because he apparently wants to kiss your neck.

“I think-”

“Unless you're going to tell me to fuck off or fuck you I don’t wanna hear it.”

I slowly brought my finger up to my lips, trying to think over my words before I spoke. I couldn’t believe how forward he was and I don’t think he sounded either by the way his face fell.

“Shit, sorry (Y/N)-”

“Language.”

He looked back at me, his eye wide as I slowly had a little smirk growing on my lips. I felt myself shift around on the floor, smiling wickedly when he started to stutter over his words.

“You wanna kiss my neck?” I asked, my hand slowly moving up his arm.

“I mean, yeah, but without the busted lip and-”

“You wanna wait till your lip heals?” I titled my head, liking the way he watched my hand and my words were making him fall around like a fish outta water.

“What? No, I uhm-”

My finger finally reached the back of his neck, my body slowly moving closer to his own. Once my forehead was touching his he leaned in, his lips so light against mine it felt he was there. When I went to push slightly hard, still worried for his lip, I felt his hand grab my wrist.

I slightly pulled back, smiling at him with my eyes closed. I just kissed my best friend and liked it, a lot.

“I can’t wait for my lip to heal now.”

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[descendantofthesparrow]

Interlude - Rewrite POYW - Part 5 - Future vision and new VKs

=

-two days later(August 2016)-

Uma perked up from the small sea glass bead bracelet she was working on, a smirk growing on her face as you appeared from the brush of the forest and walked toward her, a black bag in your right hand full of food. “Took you long enough, I even started working on this!” Uma held up the unfinished bracelet and set it to her side, making grabby hands at your bag as you stepped closer to her “Gimmie, I know you brought pineapple wedges.”

You laughed a bit and held out the bag to her, taking the bag off your back and taking out a towel and laying it down on the sand before sitting next to Uma “I brought your pineapple wedges” which Uma was already getting into “Some mac and cheese that Gil made, chicken breast, cornbread, and some packs of apple juice. bone app a teeth” Uma gave you a look at your last couple of words but shook her head at your grin.

“Weirdo” she mumbled, pulling out the containers filled with chicken and a fork, popping open the lip, and chowing down “Damn, who made the chicken?”

“Someone in the kitchen” you chuckled, picking up the box of cornbread and grabbing one to eat “Harry, Gil, and I didn’t feel like eating in the cafeteria last night so we took some of the food from the kitchen that the students have access to that was in the ‘take whatever you want’ fridge that the chefs load up with so much shit, and Gil made the mac and cheese like a day ago, everything is pretty fresh” Uma shoveled some of the mac and cheese into her mouth and groaned, her eyes fluttering.

“Fuck that’s good, even on the isle Gil was a good chef, he needs to cook more” you laughed at that, grabbing a box of apple juice and stabbing it into the top.

“He does, he makes bomb cookies too.” Uma perked up at that, giving you a look that said ‘bring me the cookies or I drown you’ “Hey! Don’t give me that look! Next time he makes cookies I’ll bring ‘em, okay??” Uma continued to stare at you with that look before nodding, satisfied with your answer.

“So?” Uma swallowed her food and dug out an apple juice box from your back, pointing at you with it in her hand “Updates, what happened with the new vks? I saw the limo go in and out two days ago.”

“Complete success, we got Harriet, CJ, Sammy Smee, Skipper and Sterling, and Dizzy all off the isle, and they’re all at the dorms now, Harriet’s gonna be transferred to the college next quarter and school starts next-next week” Uma nodded at your explanation, twirling the fork in her hands. “Your hair looks really good by the way” Uma looked at you, a soft smile on her face.

She had undone her braids about a week ago, to let the ocean water properly flow through the strands, and now rested against her back and shoulders in thick curls. “Thank you” she hummed, picking at her cornbread “I've been trying to get the…shrimp smell out”

You furrowed your brows and reached up, stopping yourself a few inches from her hair “May I touch your hair?” Uma glanced at you, slightly surprised you had asked, and nodded. Tilting her head a bit as you gently tugged on a lock of her hair. “it’s really soft, and personally I don’t smell anything bad, especially not shrimp, more…the ocean and coconut” Uma laughed a bit as you released her hair and set your hand back on your knee.

“I've been using coconut to take care of my hair…good to know it's working” you smiled to yourself as a soft grin grew on Uma’s face, one of her hands reaching up and curling a lock around her finger.

“Yeah… Evie's business is picking up” Uma raised her brow, as if saying ‘nice subject change, and I care why?’ “Well” you laughed, pushing Uma’s shoulder a bit as she rolled her eyes “hold up a moment im getting to the good part, but her business is picking up and Harry works for her as a model” Uma’s brows raised at that, “Told you, anyway he works for her as a model and with her business picking up, he models for her more often and she's paying him for it, soooo Harry’s getting fucking moneys~”

Uma hummed and picked at her chicken slice “Really? How much?” you grinned, making Uma sit up and grab at your shoulders “Okay how fucking much is Harry making from modeling; because that grin tells me he’s already rich.”

“He very well might be in a year or two” you laughed, gently removing her hands from your shoulders and readjusting your sitting position. “somewhere between 30 and a thousand per paycheck” Uma gave you a blank stare for a few moments before she rolled her eyes.

“Okay don’t tell me then, sheesh” you fell back as you laughed, Uma twisting around and sitting cross-legged, picking up another apple juice box and sipping at it.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry, um, Harry and Evie said it should increase as her business grows n stuff, but right now he’s making about eight hundred a paycheck.” Uma turned to you with wide eyes, mouth dropping open slightly in shock.

“whaaat?!” she screeched, dropping the now empty apple juice box into the sand “Eight-hundred?! That’s more-that’s more than I've made in a month at my ma’s shop!!” you laughed a bit, nodding your head as Uma continued to stare at you bewildered.

“Yeah, he’s already put a lot of it into a savings account, something about getting an apartment for us in the future with room for the Smee boys and his sisters if they ever needed a place to stay, but that won't be for another year or two since you have to be 18 to rent an apartment without parental permission.” Uma smiled a bit, Harry was one to think of the future, even on the isle. He would stash away rubies and gold coins in a savings stash under a floorboard in his old apartment for when they got off the isle.

“That sounds nice, make sure he gets one with a pool for me yeah?” you laughed again, shaking your head a bit as you and Uma side fist-bumped.

“I’ll make sure of that yeah” you took out your phone and sighed, standing from the beach and wiping the sand from your pants “I got to go, Ben wanted me for a meeting at 1, I'll get the bag when I come back tomorrow, see you!” Uma accepted the crouch side hug from you and waved you off, casting a spell to keep water off and out of the containers of food and the bag as she packed it up and dove into the sea, swimming back out to her mother's old hideout.

She slowed to a stop in front of the main opening, stepping through the air bubble she had made a while back and snapping her fingers, the water disappearing off her body by magic. “There we go” she mumbled, swinging the backpack off her shoulder and walking over to the “kitchen” area of the old hideout. She stashed away the food into the “fridge” aka old spell and potion cabinet that she had cast a cold holding spell onto to turn it into a makeshift fridge.

With a wave of her hand, her clothes transformed from a tank top and calf cut cargo pants to a long-sleeved red shirt with a hook stitched to the chest and black leggings. She stretched her arms behind her back and groaned as her back pop slightly.

Uma sighed and looked around the hideout, eyes landing on the claw-shaped cauldron in the middle of the room. it was odd, being in her mother's famous lair, but…also comforting, in a strange way.

She couldn't explain it, but…she felt safe. Probably because the only people that came around here were teens or kids on a dare and were easily scared off. So Uma was pretty much alone in the deep of the ocean.

Uma walked over to the little corner she had turned into her bedroom and sat on her bed, picking up the orange blanket you had given her cotillion night and curling it around her, staring off into space as she thought about…well everything.

From the new vks, the transfer plan, her boys, you, the isle, the vks still on the isle…the future was so unknown, what she would give for just a glimpse, just so she wasn’t so scared for it.

wait

Uma’s eyes widened, drifting between the clawed cauldron and a small set of books that were hidden behind her mother's vanity.

She could see into the future!

Uma lept off her bed and towards the books, pulling them out until she found one with the symbol of twisting water and tentacles appeared in her hands “there you are” she whispered, she had gone through these books when she found the lair and in them, she found hundreds of spells and potion instructions ranging from simple hair or visualization spells to transfiguration and curses.

“Future vision, future vision, future-ah!” Uma landed on the page she needed and stood, walking over to the cauldron and conjuring a stand for her to set the book on. She set it down and read the instructions, it seemed she would need to both make a potion and use an incantation.

“Okay, I got this” she let out a breath, rubbing her hands together as she spun around and walked over to her mother's old ingredient cabinet.

The tail of a sea worm, the clenched fist of a long-dead merman, the head of a fish, wings of a dust fairy pixie, and the eye of a seer. She carried the items over to the cauldron, casting a levitating spell to keep them next to her as she reviewed the spell.

“Okay, okay I got this” she took another breath, opening the caldron and tossing the ingredients in, leaning back a bit as smoke and vapor released from the cauldron. “Oof, okay”

Uma took one last look at the book, muttering the incantation to herself as she held the eye of a seer above the cauldron.

Finally, as she dropped the eye into the brew, and she clutched her necklace as the incantation echoed around her.

“Though winters past and summers morn, the future will be shown/the sight clear and sounds echo, I see into a world unknown”

Uma leaned back a bit as golden shimmering dust rose from the cauldron, slowly forming into a shape…of the isle. “The isle?” Uma mumbled, leaning closer to the image, squinting as she watched the golden magic bridge build and a limo enter the isle, the main bridge part looked very different than the rundown broken castle-like area she was used to, it looked to be rebuilt with signs on the front. “They’re getting more kids, when is this?”

The isle disappeared and was replaced with the image of a golden calendar, showing the present date then suddenly the pages were torn off at a rapid pace, Uma desperately trying to keep up with the passing dates before it stopped.

Uma blinked and looked closer, her brows furrowing as she looked at the circled date. “August 2nd…2019?!” Uma took a step back, her hands clenching at her side, three years? The vision she had seen before was in almost three years? But…it could possibly be one of many pick-ups? “How many vks have been picked up between the six from two days ago and the vks from the vision just before” Uma hoped the spell worked like this, she was in for shit if it didn’t.

Thankfully, that’s how the spell seemed to work, the image of the calendar disappeared and the sand like magic stayed dormant, shifting within the caldron…it seemed the spell didn’t know how to answer that question “Maybe I need to make it clearer?” Uma hummed, tapping her fingers against the rim of the cauldron before it came it her “How long will it be between the six vks two days ago and the next transfer of vks.”

The calendar appeared again, now first showing the date of two days ago, and then ripping off the pages rapidly “Oh no.” Uma muttered, sinking down to her knees slightly as the calendar stopped at August 2nd 2019 again. “two and a half years? Seriously?! What the fuck?!” Uma growled and knocked over the stand that held the spellbook and whirled back around at the cauldron “Why does it take so long!?”

The calendar disappeared again and was replaced with a long table with about twelve people sitting around it, and she could recognize King Ben sitting at the end, his head held in his hands as the others all held a hand up, glowering at the young king. “His council?” Uma murmured, looking at the faces of the people to see if she recognized anybody, only able to pick out Aurora mother, who had her hand up, and ex-king Luis, Cinderella’s father-in-law, who had his hand down, seeming to be on Ben’s side of whatever they were debating.

“What did they vote for?” Uma asked, biting her lip as the council disappeared and a paper took its place, the top reading ‘Application for juvenile Reunification’. Uma furrowed her brows, confused for a moment before she kept reading, rage bubbling in her gut as she did. “They have to fucking apply??! Just to get the freedom they deserve?! Do they agree to this?!”

The application disappeared and was replaced with the moving image of Ben and (y/n), Harry glaring at the king just behind (y/n). (y/n) was yelling, so was Ben, both motioning to the paper in (y/n)s hand. “That must be the application thing or whatever” Uma muttered, smirking as (y/n) crumbling it in her fist and shook it in Ben’s face.

Ben seemed to nod and point at it, and Uma leaned in reading his lips ‘that’s what I want to do (y/n), but I can’t! When they overrule me, I can't do anything about it! I’m sorry, but if we don’t go by their rules then we don’t get kids off the isle im sorry!’

(y/n) shook her fist in his face again and turned, walking towards Harry and burying her face in his chest, he wrapped his arms around her and glared at Ben, Uma leaning in again to read their lips. Ben spoke first ‘I am sorry, I’ll try to get everything ready as soon as possible, but some of it is going to take almost two years, maybe almost three! Especially the shelter and cps agency, and the council required those to be done before we can even send out the applications’ Harry stared at Ben for a moment before looking down at (y/n) and pulling her tighter into him.

‘Get it done beasty boy’ Harry seemed to growl, his lip set in a slight snarl ‘and quick, if this takes longer than yeh say, you’ll be hanging from the mast’ Ben nodded, turning back to his desk and picking up a thick folder.

‘I'll hold you to that’ Ben said back, about to say something else but the image disappeared before Uma’s eyes before he could finish.

“Dammit,” Uma muttered, rubbing her with her palms as she grit her teeth. It was the same reason they had taken so long after Ben had promised to get her off the isle after the coronation, the council kept pushing back everything, so stuck in their old ways of thought that they just couldn’t bear to have more vks in Auradon.

“Bastards” Uma growled, standing from the floor and looking back in the cauldron, it seemed the spell had finished, and she wouldn’t be able to ask any more questions about the future. “Ben, (y/n), I hope to Hades you don’t fuck this up for those kids”

-

Celia couldn’t help but keep her eyes locked on the spot where the Auradon limo had been parked only two days ago, the spot where Dizzy had left her on the isle.

Dizzy had promised to get her off next, whispering it in Celia’s ear as Dizzy hugged her tightly just before she left. Dizzy was hardly one to break a promise, even in a place where promises were never kept, so Celia trusted her.

She just hoped that trust wouldn’t be proved wrong.

Celia sighed, looked at her watch, and realized she had to go pick up some stuff for Hades before her usual fortune-telling shift in front of the arcade.

She quickly traveled to the market and snatched up some cans of corn, cans of refried beans, and a large loaf of bread, that was only a day past its baking date. Celia took another loaf for herself and her dad, suppressing the smile she had as she walked towards the mines.

it was nice having actual food to eat, Celia no longer went hungry every other night and no longer needed to scrounge for money to get the food that was being kept on the market thanks to Harriet's crew that was making sure the merchants weren’t keeping the food away from everybody due to selling it at a high price as they usually did for the better food as they did before the program.

“Celia~” A velvety voice cooed behind her, and Celia turned, raising her brow as she spotted Ginny Gothel, Mother Gothel’s daughter. Ginny Gothel was a flirt, a heavy-set young woman who dared to blow a kiss to Harriet and survive. her dark curly hair was in a short bob that showed the shaved part of her neck. her face, which was always either set in a glare or a flirtatious smirk, was painted with dark makeup. she collected crystals and rings to adorn herself, black and dark red fabrics flowed around her body when she strut down the market place with pride. she was a part of the older villain kids, so respect came with her presence.

“Celia darling~” Ginny cooed; Celia just slowly nodded to show she was listening “do you think you can ask Dizzy if she's got an opening? I need a touch up” Ginny's hand reached up and brushed against the back of her neck where her hair was beginning to overgrow where it was supposed to be. Celia huffed, fixing her grip on her supplies for hades.

“First, I ain't in charge of her and you can go find out yourself I ain't your errand rant, second, Dizzy left two days ago” Ginny's eyes went wide at that “She's in Auradon now, with all those prissy people, so tough luck, eh?” Ginny groaned and leaned heavily back against the wall she was next to, throwing her arm over her eyes.

“Noooo how am I ever going to get my hair cut now?! Dizzy was the only one to understand exactly what I needed!...” her arm dropped to her side as she pouted, looking back at Celia who just stared at her with bored eyes “Well I could go to the hearts salon but I do not trust that mad queen with those sheers”

“Suck it up and get it cut you weenie” Celia snarked, smirking as Ginny scoffed at her and walked off, presumably to the queen of hearts salon.

Celia shrugged Ginny's dramatic attitude off and made her way to the mines.

-

Ginny sighed dramatically, rubbing her hands against the back of her neck again, she really did need a touch-up. But Dizzy was in Auradon and she was the only hair person Ginny trusted with her hair. The last time she went to the hearts salon she ended up with the wrong cut and length.

But then again. Ginny stopped in the middle of the street, hands on her hips as she pouted at the floor, she really-really needed a touch-up on her undercut.

Fuck it, if it got fucked up, she’d fix it herself.

She twisted on her heel and walked over to the side of the isle that housed the red-hearts salon. She pushed the main door open and crossed her arms, her dark amber eyes scanning the customers and workers.

“Ey darling, you here for a cut or a dye?” Ginny turned, smirking as she locked eyes with one of her closest cohorts on the isle, Colin Hearts. The only other person she trusted with her hair, she had hoped they were working today, and lucky for her they were.

Colin was a lanky teen, their heels making them seem taller than they really were. they always seemed to wear flowing shirts and tight pants, and wore five-inch heels more often than not. Their natural dark red hair had been cut into a fluffy bright red Mohawk and their brown eyes were hidden behind purple contact lenses. Their teasing lips were always painted with black lipstick, and their nails sharp and red.

Ginny walked to her “friend” and they shared a quick handshake they had made when both of them were young. “Yeah, due for a buzz on my undercut, think you can do that for me, hun?” Colin looked up at the ceiling, their painted lips in a false thinking pout “Colin.” Colin smirked at Ginny's low tone and nodded.

“Yeah, I can do that for you, come on~ you know my station~” Ginny gave tight-lipped smile to Colin and strut over to the scarlet red chair with painted white hearts that Colin had decked out a while ago to claim it as their station.

Ginny sat down and crossed her legs, examining her black nails as Colin settled behind her. “So just a touch up, eh?” Colin murmured aloud, Ginny nodded in confirmation, leaning her head back to peer at Colin.

“Don’t fuck it up or I take those red lace pumps you treasure so much” Ginny grinned as Colin gasped at that and pushed their hand to their chest at her threat.

“How dare you~!” the two shared a nasty grin and Colin reached for their electric clippers, throwing the hair catcher towel around Ginny's neck and turning the clippers on. “So did you hear that Harriet ‘n her sister left to Auradon two days ago?” Ginny gasped at that “Really?” Colin leaned into Ginny's line of sight “You’re obsessed with that girl; I’m surprised you didn’t sense the moment she left the barrier” Colin chuckled at Ginny's glare and went back to her hair.

“Dizzy’s left too” Ginny sighed, twitching as Colin let out a small laugh.

“I know, if she wasn’t you wouldn’t be here” Colin lifted up the back of Ginny's hair and started to buzz her undercut, going quiet as they focused on not cutting more than Ginny wanted.

“Smee’s boys left too, all three of ‘em” Colin muttered, shaving the design into Ginny’s undercut “Six more vks off the isle, wonder if any more will follow” Ginny hummed at that, watching Colin in the mirror as they worked at her hair. That was a question, would there be more vks to follow the six that left two days ago?… Ginny hoped so, she would love to get off the isle and away from her mother.

“Think they’ll pick any of us if it continues?” Ginny asked, leaning on her hand as Colin tilted her head. Colin shrugged after a moment.

“Dunno, maybe not us, but-” they nodded their head to the right, Ginny's eyes following to see Diego De’vil sitting in the salon chair reading a book as one of Colin’s coworkers finished on cutting his hair “-Diego maybe, considering he and Carlos are cousins there might be more of a reason” Diego looked over at them, raising his brow “Ey im not talking negative, just possibilities” he sighed and went back to his book, rolling his shoulders a bit.

Diego was a strapping young man, the older cousin of Carlos and the lead singer and guitarist of the Bad Apples. when he was younger, he would sneer at those who would either compare his looks to his much smaller at the time cousin or accidentally call him Carlos. nowadays he took a bit more pride in being Carlos’ cousin. his hair was cut into a short-brushed back Mohawk that transitioned from black at the roots to white at the edges, similar to Carlos’ hair. he wore red and black most of the time, decorated with spikes and pins with hard combat boots and patched-up jeans. his fingers were calloused from years of guitar picking and freckles decorated his face and shoulders.

Colin's coworker finished up refining his mohawk and took the towel from his shoulders, Diego stood and placed a handful of silver coins into the worker's hands. They nodded and walked to the register as Diego examined himself in the mirror “so De’vil?” He turned to look at Colin, who was brushing off the buzzed hair from Ginny's shoulders “Do ya think your cousin will get you off of here or nah?” Diego stared at them for a moment then shrugged.

“Dunno” he grumbled, grabbing his jacket from the counter and slipping it on “Not up to me, but I’ll do anything to get away from my maniac of an aunt, she keeps mistaking me for Carlos” Ginny and Colin winced at that, remembering the old days when the once runt-like Carlos would run out from Hell Hall with a screaming Cruella behind him, a burning cigarette in her hand.

Pity wasn’t a thing on the isle but many of the younger isle residents would take it upon themselves to keep Carlos away from his deranged mother when possible, even Mal had done it when she was younger and much more…nasty, it was like seeing a puppy being kicked while it was already down, you couldn’t help but just care for it.

Then once Mal created her little group the incidents where Carlos ran away from his brother bruised and bloody lessened, until they completely stopped because he was in Auradon.

Now Cruella, ever the insane woman, attempted to chase after Diego, but Diego was stronger and taller than Carlos ever was against Cruella, and easily battered her away when he needed to.

Cruella didn’t bother him much after the first fist to her face.

Diego waved Colin and Ginny goodbye and walked out of the salon, making his way towards the rundown movie theater for band practice. He turned down an ally for a shortcut and appeared on the other side in the market, making his way down the market to get to the other side of the main street, where the theater was.

As he walked someone caught his eye, and he looked to his right, seeing Claudine Frollo picking through a basket of apples for whatever reason, probably her father making her do the grocery shopping.

Claudine was the bell ringer for dragon hall, she was quiet and soft-spoken, hardly talking to anyone her father didn't approve of. she wore clothes that covered her almost completely, as her father said it ‘keeps the sinful eyes of others away’. her sunflower curly blonde hair was always wrapped in a tight bun, it always got caught in her cross-necklace chain if it was let free. many assumed Claudine was a weak girl, her small frame and wide doe-like green eyes didn't help with the assumption, only to be in for a surprise when it was learned she could knock someone out with one clean punch, bell-ringing every day wasn't an easy task after all. she had many pursuers, many of which didn't go any farther after they were reminded of who her father was.

Diego stepped next to her and grabbed an apple, remembering he was wanting a snack before he had gone in for a haircut. She jumped slightly, turning to him with scared eyes before she realized it was him.

“Oh, hi Diego” Claudine mumbled, going back to grabbing some apples and stuffing them in her black and violet messenger bag.

“Hey” he mumbled back, picking up a sturdy-looking apple and biting into it, suppressing a smile at the crisp texture and sweet taste, fresh apples were so much better than he’d ever thought it be.

Claudine finished filling her bag and nodded at Diego, bidding him ‘adieu’ and turning to go the opposite way Diego had been going. Diego watched her for a moment before turning on his heel and resuming his walk towards the theater.

He arrived soon after and pushed open the doors, walking down towards the left hall past the broken-down arcade and stepping into the 2nd theater on the right.

“Eyyyyy look whose finally ‘ere~” his drummer, Ezekiel, called out to him, as he was sitting down on the stage in front of the screen. Diego nodded to him and climbed up the steps up to the stage, nodding at his bass player and secondary guitarist as they messed with their instruments “What took ya so long?”

“Haircut and snack” Diego shrugged, tossing the apple core to Ezekiel, who gagged and tossed the core into the trash a few feet away “let's get to it”

“Yeah~” Eva, his secondary guitarist and support singer, finished with her guitar and set up the mics and speakers. “Let's do dis~”

Kuvira, his bass player, nodded swinging their bass onto their back, and helped Eva set up the last of their gear.

Ezekiel plopped into his chair and spun his drumsticks between his fingers, grinning at Diego as he took out his guitar and threw the strap around his neck “So what shall we start with~”

“…” Diego looked off to the side for a moment, going through the mental list of their songs. “Different Evil Incoming, let's do that, it’s a wicked warm-up song” his band members nodded, setting up their instruments, following Diego’s lead as he started to shred on his guitar.

-

Claudine let out a sigh of relief as she stepped into her ‘home’, her father must have still been at his church service. She glanced at the calendar on the wall and closed her eyes, he had marked it as an all-day service which meant she was alone in the house until midnight.

Thank the gods.

She walked up the stairs to her room and unpacked her food into the fridge in her room, going back downstairs to pack away her father's food in the cabinets. Her father shunned modern technology, calling it the devil's work.

But Claudine would rather have her food last just a bit longer than they did in the cabinets.

Claudine took off her jacket and stretched her arms, groaning a bit as her back popped, she scanned the living room/kitchen once to look for anything out of place, and when she found nothing, she grabbed her jacket and ran back up to her room.

She closed the door behind her and took off her thick sweater, grabbing a thinner long-sleeved shirt and pulling it on, sighing in relief to be free of the slightly constricting fabric.

She glanced at her clock and smiled, it was hardly even one-thirty, she had plenty of alone time before her ‘father’ was home. As she grabbed her favorite book and walked to her closet, which was the only way to access the attic of the apartment, her mind flashed back to when she was much younger.

She was barely 4 years old when her mother died, leaving her scared and alone in their home. She didn’t know how much time had passed after that but she knew she was very hungry and very tired, that’s when Claude Frollo stepped into her mother's home and found her.

He had been looking for her mother after her mother had missed several church services, and with how devoted her mother was to the church it had ticked off the ‘that’s odd’ box for Frollo.

He found her, and in thanks to her mother for being so devoted to the church, adopted her, claiming her as his own and raising her under the name of ‘god’.

It had been 13 years since then, and Claudine had all but forgotten the face of her mother. She brushed away the memory of the day she had been found by her adoptive father and pulled herself into the attic carefully stepping around her piles of books, pillows, and blankets and settling into the corner next to the window, where she could read in peace with the natural light illuminating her favorite fantasy book.

Her father always said these books were works of the devil, but Claudine loved them too much to care, she knew they were fake but they allowed her mind to wander to a place far from the isle of the lost.

She set the book on her lap and opened it, beginning to read.

Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy.

-one week after the new vks are transferred to Auradon-

Ben growled into his hand as he glared down at the new documents the council had presented to him. ‘we hereby overrule the vk transfer plan, it is rushed and unplanned, you bringing six villain children over with no security checks or going through their history on the isle will doom Auradon’

While he and (y/n) had figured out the council couldn’t change the rules of his first proclamation or straight up say no to it, they had forgotten if they got enough evidence or if the whole council agreed they could shut the program down.

Luckily Ben had been able to salvage the isles fresh food and necessities program as it had high security going in and out of the barrier and the Auradon guards personally handed out the shipments to make sure no one snuck anyone or anything back into the ship.

Only one person on the council had gone against the rest, ex-king Luis, Prince Charming’s father. He understood the need to continue to get innocent children off the isle and had adamantly refused to vote against it, and helped Ben salvage the fresh food program.

Ex-queen Leah had been the biggest voice against Ben, and he knew she had orchestrated the meeting and the others to cut off the transfer program, she was still angry at Ben for bringing over the daughter of the fae that had “ruined” her daughter's childhood and ruined her motherhood.

Luckily, Ben had found a loophole, he had shown them his plans for the CPS and shelter, where each vk would have an adult to be in charge of them and a place to stay away from the general population and the council agreed that he could continue the vk transfer plan.

But only once he had finished building both the CPS and the shelter, then they demanded that there would be a more thorough screening of the villain children. In the way of applications, they would give their name, parents' name, fingerprints, an essay about why they wanted to come to Auradon, and then a section for the villain children to tell them about their lives on the isle. And then the council would go through the applications and THEY would approve of who was allowed to come to Auradon, and then Ben could choose out of their approved applications

Ben was angry, very, very angry. All the progress that he made within the last two months, gone. Only a day ago he was able to just point at a vk and say ‘you’re coming to Auradon’ and it could happen, with hardly any mess, yes, he would have to get a guardian for them and then get them approved by the school board for a new student and then get the new vk approved to live in the dorms but, that was a lot fewer hoops to jump through then this new application bullshit which would take so much more time.

And he wouldn’t even be able to be the first person to look at the applications as an unbiased person, they would go through cooky old people who still held on to their grudges against these kids’ parents, and pass that grudge onto the kid who wasn’t even born during that time!

Ben threw down the file containing the new guidelines for the transfer plan and buried his face in his hands. The shelter alone would take almost a year to be fully refurbished to be able to comfortably house hundreds of kids that ranged from toddlers to barely adults, then the CPS?? There was so much more to that than on the surface, he had to hire people, make sure they were certified, give them a place to base out of, get them trained to be able to handle the kids off the isle who most of which were probably traumatized! Get therapists ready, medical staff, kitchen staff, living wages, and so much more that just made Ben's head hurt.

Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to make a sixteen-year-old a king? His own father wasn’t king until he was well past his teens, why did he think his kid would be ready for all of this so much earlier than he did?

Ben sighed, lifting his head and rubbing his eyes, this was all going to take over a year, at least, possibly two, maybe almost 3. so the vks would just sit there and wait until they in Auradon were ready to have them come.

Ben felt rage bubbling in his gut, he just wanted to say fuck it and continue doing it the way he was, except with more kids each round. He wanted to go to the isle and just scream at the top of his lungs ‘those who wish to live in Auradon follow me!’ and be able to give those kids the freedom they deserved.

Ben’s anger-filled thought stopped at the sound of slamming on his door. ‘(y/n)’ Ben thought, slightly nervous. He had sent a text to the group chat telling everyone about the council's interference and it was safe to say no one was happy.

Mal had never responded but he heard that there was a new hole in the dorm building wall (which she thankfully repaired but it didn’t stop her from being pissed and deciding to go out for a fly to burn off her anger), Evie had let off a wide range of curse words, some of which were definitely not English, Jay had sent a flurry of random letters and a small rant, Carlos had chucked his phone and was busy repairing it.

And (y/n), Harry, and Gil? Gil was understanding, knowing Ben had no part in it, but the other two? (y/n) had gone silent, and so had Harry.

That was never a good thing.

Ben stood and walked over to his door, dragging his feet slightly as he did. He unlocked it and quickly took a step back as the door swung open and he was greeted by (y/n) and Harry's pissed-off faces.

“So what's this I hear about a meddling council” (y/n) hissed, stepping into the room with Harry following her, closing the door with his foot, and locking it. Watching as (y/n) stormed over to Ben's desk and picked up the file. “How could you let them do this?! Do you know how long it been for those kids?! Eight months!! And now you are going to let them wait even longer!? Fuck that!” (y/n) crumbled the file in her hands and Ben gestured to it as he gave a pleading look to (y/n)

“That’s what I want to do (y/n), but I can’t! When they overrule me, I can't do anything about it! I’m sorry, but if we don’t go by their rules then we don’t get kids off the isle…I’m sorry.”

(y/n) shook her fist in his face again and turned, walking towards Harry and burying her face in his chest, he wrapped his arms around her and glared at Ben. The two stared at each other for a moment, waiting to see who spoke first. Ben took the first word “I really am sorry, I’ll try to get everything ready as soon as possible, but some of it is going to take almost two years, maybe almost three! especially the shelter and CPS agency, and the council required those to be done before we can even send out the applications”

Harry stared at Ben for a moment before looking down at (y/n) and pulling her tighter into him.

“Get it done beasty boy” Harry seemed to growl, his lip set in a slight snarl “And quick, if this takes longer than yeh say, you’ll be hanging from the mast” Ben nodded, stepping towards (y/n) slightly and taking the crumbled file from her hands.

“I'll hold you to that” Ben sighed, stepping back and setting the file on his desk “In fact I’ll remind you if it does…what are we going to do about those kids in the meantime?”

“We can't let them sit there in the dark.” (y/n) mumbled, pulling away from Harry's chest and looking towards Ben “You remember the last time we did that, with Uma? You said she thought Harry and Gil abandoned her. We can't let those kids think we are abandoning them again; we need to let them know we’re doing everything we can”

“And we will” Ben nodded, the fire igniting in his chest again as he realized not all hope was lost “Those kids will know that we aren’t abandoning them. Through a newscast or a radio, I don’t know, but we'll let them know”

You and Harry nodded at Ben, who nodded back. “We'll figure this out.” Ben walked around his desk and sat down, glaring at the file. “We won't let them down.”

-end of part 5-

 Part 5! and Uma can see into the future~!! also yep the council are dicks and prevent Ben from doing everything easily. also yep more vks! more to come about them in future parts! hope you enjoyed!

permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11​

@musicarose​ @random-thoughts-003​

@remembered-license​ @rintheemolion​

@verboetoperee​ @imtryingthisout​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @jatp-rules-my-life​ 

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Home Bound (Part 2)

Summary: With some help from Samson, Dean makes it back to the bunker and starts to process everything that’s happened...

Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,700ish

Warnings: language, angst, injury, mention of character death, mourning, supernatural events

A/N: Written entirely in Dean’s POV. Enjoy!

______

“Morning,” said Sam as I groggily sat up. He was cooking in the kitchen, humming a happy tune to himself.

“God, it’s barely seven in the morning,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

“I’ve already been up for an hour,” he said. “Eggs?”

“If you’re offering,” I said, stumbling over to his bathroom. I changed back into my clothes, yawning as I sat down at the table. He put down a cup of coffee and plate of scrambled eggs along with some hot sauce. 

“You got any money to get by?” he asked, standing at his counter eating.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, wolfing down my food. 

“Here,” he said, pushing an envelope towards me. I leaned over and grabbed it, opening it up to find a wad of money. “It’s about five hundred. S’all I got laying around the house. That enough to get you home?”

“Samson I can’t accept this,” I said, putting the envelope back.

“I wasn’t really asking,” he said, setting it down on the table next to me. “I’d let you take my car but I need it for work.”

“Sam, it doesn’t look like you got much. I’m not taking your life savings,” I said.

“I have a bank account, jackass. It’s not my savings. Don’t worry about it. Go home, take care of what needs to be done and yourself. You’re getting closer to popping. Pay it forward some day,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said, drinking down the last of my coffee. I tucked the envelope in my pocket and he set his mug down.

“I’ll drive you to the bus station,” he said. I put on my boots by the front door as he rummaged around in a closet. He pulled out a black winter coat and held it out to me. “For if you decide you need a walk again.”

“Write down your address,” I said, handing him back the envelope.

“Alright. I don’t want any money or the jacket back. Send me a Christmas card or something,” he said. He returned it after a moment and grabbed his keys as I slipped into the coat. “Better?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks man.”

“S’no problem. Let’s get you home.”

36 Hours Later

My hands were shoved in the fleece lined pockets as I walked up the dirt road to the bunker. The ice storm in Colorado had followed me all the way back to Kansas but the hooded winter coat made all the difference in the world. I couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and curl up in bed with one of Y/N’s blankets. 

What happened after...I wasn’t going to be able to put off later for much longer. Now that I was home though, I could let go and get my head on straight in the morning to figure out what had happened.

With a deep breath I stepped down to the door and opened it up. The heat had been left on and the hallway was cozy. I stepped through to the other door inside and found the lights were on too, exactly as they were when we’d all headed out. Just in case, Y/N said. She didn’t want to come home to a dark house.

I headed down the stairs and cut into the library, the space feeling far too big for just me.

“I miss you,” I said. I pinched my nose and heard a creak behind me. I spun around, eyes wide.

“Dean?” said Sam. My Sam, the one that must have died, must have, was right there, in pajamas and with a bowl of chips in his hand.

“I die and now you eat the crap, Sammy?” I said. He set the bowl down and rushed over, giving me a hug. “I’m getting you all wet.”

“Don’t care,” he said. He squeezed me hard and I let out a tiny gasp, Sam giving me some room after that. He looked confused though and shook his head. “How…”

“Was gonna ask you the same thing,” I said.

“I didn’t die. You pushed me out of the way,” he said.

“I don’t remember that,” I said. “You were right there. Since I woke up I assumed…”

Sam was smiling at me still but the hunter in him finally kicked in. I nodded to the cabinet where everything he’d need to test me was. Three minutes later he was hugging me too hard again.

“Relax, Sammy. Gonna pop my shoulder back out,” I said. He immediately released me and I cradled my arm. “I fixed it already.”

“Still. You should wear the sling Y/N bought,” he said. We wandered over to the infirmary and he dug around in a drawer until he pulled it out.

“Is she…” I said, taking off my jackets and slipping it on over my head. Sam shook his head and I sighed. “You don’t know that for sure. Up until five minutes ago you thought I was dead too.”

“True but, you know,” he said. I nodded, staring at the floor. “Cas is alright. Billie got him back from the empty. He’s up in heaven trying to help keep that going. They’re trying out this new method or something.”

“Not your memories?” I asked, heading for the kitchen.

“No. I mean kinda. More like, collective afterlife? It uses a lot less power I guess,” said Sam. “They’re doing small test groups right now he said. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“How’s he alive again?” I asked.

“Billie brought him back,” he said as we walked over to the kitchen.

“How’s Jack?”

“He’s doing okay. He got pretty hurt during the fight. I took care of him for a few weeks before he headed out. New God and all. He’s still learning.”

“He bring me back?” I asked.

“He doesn’t know how to do that yet. He says he feels like he will be able to someday, like it’s in his bones but he doesn’t know quite right now how to pull it off,” said Sam.

“So how am I back?”

“I honestly have no idea,” he said. I took a seat at the table, catching Y/N’s mug sat at the end in her usual spot. “We gave you guys a hunter’s funeral. There’s a little marker up in the woods a ways, in that clearing you two used to go have dates in.”

“There’s no body then.”

“No. Where’d you wake up?” he asked, taking two beers out of the fridge.

“Middle of nowhere Colorado,” I said. “Any idea why?”

“No, not really. Any place we ever hunt?”

“No. I met a guy. Samson, apparently dad and I saved his folks back in the day while you were at school. But they didn’t live there. I never...I never met the guy,” I said. “He knew who I was but he’d never met me.”

“You think he was lying?”

“He was nice to me when I was an ass. I don’t think he was playing at anything. How would he know what I looked like though?”

“It’s possible I suppose that he reached out to other hunters and learned more about you? I mean the girls got pictures of us. Maybe Eileen?”

“Maybe,” I said, shaking my head. “Shit, Sam. How’s-”

“She’s good,” said Sam with a small smile. “She’s over in Lawrence at the moment actually. She’s looking at houses for us.”

“You guys deserve to finally be together,” I said. “She’s good for you.”

“I know.”

“Gonna stop hunting?”

“I don’t really need to anymore. We kind of turned them all human,” said Sam. I cocked my head and he shrugged. “The hail mary? It worked. No more monsters.”

“That’s great,” I said, forcing a smile. Great. I couldn’t even bury myself in hunting to feel slightly less crappy. I was worthless.

“I’m heading out to meet Eileen in a few days. Come with me.”

“Nah, I don’t wanna intrude or-”

“You can have some space but you’re not staying here alone,” he said.

“Y/N’s dead. I have no job now. I’m not gonna be the brooding mope sitting at the end of your couch when you finally get to be with your girl.”

“Dean,” said Sam as I stood up.

“I really want to shower and sleep, Sammy. I’m cold and exhausted. Please,” I said.

“You’re gonna come with,” he said. I clenched my fist and glared over my shoulder. “Y/N wrote you a letter for if she didn’t make it back. It’s in your room. When I thought you both...I read it in case she wanted something to be done after she was gone. You know the only thing she said? You need to go live your life. She loves you and wants you to be happy.”

“Easy for her to say. She’s not here,” I said.

“Dean. I know this is raw for you and I’ve had four months to deal you didn’t. Don’t disrespect what she wanted.”

“Oh fuck you,” I said. I stormed out, pausing around the corner. I heard him behind me and slumped my shoulders down. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” he said.

“She was supposed to live, not me,” I said. “Cause she’s stronger than I am and I can’t deal with her not being in that bedroom when I go down this hall.”

“Dean. Grieve. Please. For the first time in your life, grieve properly. When you’re ready, you and me will go out to Lawrence. I’m gonna call Eileen and make sure she finds a place where you got a big room and your own bathroom and garage and all that. Until then, I’m gonna stay here. Ignore me, yell at me, whatever. I’m staying. Alright?”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I want a pool too.”

“Dean.”

“Hot tub.”

“We’ll put one in.”

“Fine,” I said. He ruffled my hair and I headed down to the bathroom. I slipped out of my clothes, pulling out the envelope with a few hundred dollars left. “Sammy.”

“What?” he called back.

“Figure out who this guy was,” I said, holding the envelope out the door. “That’s his name and address.”

“Whiltiston,” said Sam, making a face. “You sure this is his name?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You wouldn’t know. About two months back, the Whiltiston family was in the news. National news. They’d been reunited with their daughter who was kidnapped as an infant. She was safe. The people who took her pretended to be her parents. They were real sickos. I’d hunt ‘em down if they weren’t already dead,” said Sam.

“So this guy’s her brother?” I asked.

“Yeah, there was a brother Sam I remember mentioned at the press conference. They didn’t show anyone but the dad but they were all really happy to be back together,” he said.

“Still doesn’t explain how he knows what I look like.”

“They said the girl has a sketchy memory of certain things. I mean they were bad people, Dean. It’s possible we worked her case and didn’t know?” he said.

“See if you can dig up a phone number for me too,” I said.

“Yeah. I’ll see if...you know, we’ve been in the national news before too. It’s entirely possible that one of his parents saw us on the news and told him that was you.”

“Oh. That’s...a lot more likely,” I said, frowning to myself. “Forget about it. Could you just slip in some extra cash in there for me? I’ll send it back along with the coat. The guy didn’t have much.”

“No problem. I’ll get you the phone number too. I know you’ll drive yourself nuts if you don’t know for sure.”

“Sam,” I said as he started to leave. “I’m really happy you’re not dead.”

“Me too. Take your shower. I’ll put out some pajamas for you.”

I nodded and shut the door, resting my head against the back of it. After a moment I went to the shower and turned the water on, forgetting about the prickly heat until my skin turned a slight pink and started to warm up. Somehow I got through with washing myself before I saw Y/N’s shampoo staring back at me in the cubby. I swallowed and picked it up, flipping open the cap and taking a deep inhale.

It took awhile and one concerned knock at the door to realize at some point I’d sat down with my knees in my chest, Y/N’s shampoo sat on the ground beside me.

“Dean? You okay? You’ve been in there for an hour,” said Sam. I buried my head down and heard the door creek open. “Dean? Answer me or I’m coming in.”

“I’m fine,” I said, voice raw and cracking with every syllable. Sam didn’t open the door anymore but he was still there.

“Turn off the water,” he said. I reached up and hit it off, wiping the back of my hand across my nose. “You have one minute to dry off and put on a towel.”

The door shut and I forced myself to get up. I patted myself off and got a towel around my waist, trying to wash my face off before Sam saw me.

“I’m coming in,” said Sam. One look at him said more than enough and I looked away. “I told you to grieve.”

“Her freaking shampoo bottle,” I said. Sam looked over to the shower and saw it on the ground, running his hand through his hair. “Why can’t I shove it down like every other time?”

“You know why. There’s no chance of you getting her back and she wouldn’t want you to do something stupid. You loved her. You’re always gonna love her. Dean, I’ve been there with Jessica. It’s gonna fuck you up real good for a while. I thought I’d never be happy again, not like that, and then I found Eileen. It feels like the end of your life but it’s not,” he said. “It’s not going away if you shove it down so just feel it.”

“Yeah,” I said. I brushed past him and went to my room, shutting the door to change. I left it closed and sat on the edge of the bed, catching his shadow under the door. It moved away after a minute and I let out a sigh. The room smelled musty which I appreciated. It was something different to focus on. 

I rolled over to Y/N’s side of the bed and saw the letter Sam had mentioned on her nightstand. I ripped it off and found it wasn’t as long as I’d expected. She probably did it last minute.

De, I love you. I’m always going to love you. I need you to try to keep loving and not shut the world out. Find some happiness again or I’m gonna haunt you like I’m your own personal Casper. Okay? You’ll get there someday. My big green flannel is in the closet if you need it. Be safe (I’ll keep an eye out for you though, promise).

My head glanced up and over to the closet, staring before I stood and opened it. At the end was her big oversized green flannel. She’d stolen so many of my clothes over the years she’d decided to get something of hers I could take for myself.

I pulled it off the hook and brought it back to bed, tugging it on before I lay back on the mattress.

It too was a little musty but there was the faint scent of her shampoo again filling the air. 

“Fuck, I miss you,” I said. I shut my eyes and turned off the light, hoping exhaustion would put me to sleep quickly.

_______

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

[you-can-wear-my-face]

Thomas Hewitt/Selectively Mute! Reader, part two

Part One

Summary: The Sheriff picks you up after you broke down on the side of the road. You know this can’t end well, but he makes you an offer you can’t refuse; use your nursing skills to heal the giant man he brings you to, and you can go free. Unfortunately for you, he obviously needs more than a nurse. (And how can you be sure he’ll really let you go when ‘Thomas’ is healed?)

C/W: Medical use of maggots, self-harm references. Also, please do not use anything here as medical advice. This is a slasher/reader fic, not a manual on first aid.

Note: As I said, I have no self control.

You wrote down an explanation for the maggots, trying not to let your shaking obscure your handwriting. Hoyt snatched it from you, obviously suspicious after your last note. The woman was glaring at you openly. Whatever points you’d briefly won with her were lost. Hoyt grunted. “Hmmph. They’ll eat the dead skin. Leave the good skin. That right?” You nodded. He grunted again, still skeptical. “Why can’t you just cut it off, huh? Ain’t like the boy hasn’t done it to his own—“

“Charlie Hewitt, you better not finish that sentence, ‘less you wanna see if I can still give you a good spanking.”

He turned his glare on her, mockingly parroting her words back at her before adding, “You don’t scare me, woman.” But you noticed he didn’t finish his sentence. He focused back on you. “Well? Just cut it off.” You shook your head, reaching for the pen and paper again. He held it out of your reach, mouth turned upward in a smirk. The woman slapped a hand to his chest, earning an aborted swear. “Mama, what the hell was—?”

She snatched the pen and paper, passing it to you. “You brought her here to fix Thomas. I ain’t gonna let you harass her while there’s something she can do to help him.”

He grumbled something to himself but pulled away to lean against the wall, picking at his teeth while you wrote. You hesitated a moment, then added a question at the bottom. You passed the note to the woman. She eyed it, then eyed you.

“Luda Mae,” she said, in answer to your scribbled question. “Charlie, go get the girl her maggots.”

“Mama—“

“Go on,” she said, “We got plenty of ‘em around here. You know where to look.” He sighed. “You’re getting too used to giving Tommy all the dirty jobs. Don’t think I ain’t seen it. Go. She ain’t a surgeon or a doctor, and she don’t wanna make it worse for him. She says maggots’ll help? Well we got maggots to spare. I’ll see what I can do about the rest of this list but...” She shook her head. “Ain’t likely to find much.”

You swallowed. It was just your luck that you’d end up in the backcountry of Texas, inside a home with an abundance of maggots and a complete lack of medical supplies—and with your life riding on your ability to heal the man in front of you.

It was almost funny, if you looked at it like that.

You nodded and shrugged, trying to convey acceptance without words. They—somehow—seemed to get it and left you to your devices, though Hoyt grumbled the whole time. Just before he shut and locked the door, he reminded you not to do anything stupid. You nodded, and he stepped outside. The door shut and the lock clicked, leaving you alone with your patient.

You exhaled slowly, a lot of the tension leaving you with their absence. You could almost pretend this was just another house call. You eyed the gash across his chest and swallowed. Almost.

Stepping close to the prone man, you pulled the blankets down to his waist to check for any additional injuries. Minor cuts and bruises littered his torso, and you shook your head. “What happened to you?” you murmured. You found no humor in the irony that you had no trouble talking when other people weren’t around. (As Thomas was unconscious, he didn’t trouble you either.)

Setting a hand on his abdomen, you pressed lightly to see if there was any internal damage—and if there was, both you and he were screwed, because there was no way for you to fix that. Thankfully, you couldn’t find any unusual swellings or broken ribs, and his bruises all seemed to be surface injuries. You pulled the blanket the rest of the way off, but his family had apparently decided to preserve his modesty; his trousers were still on, though they were stained with blood and dirt. “These definitely need to go, big guy,” you told him, “I’d like to change the sheets, too, but I can’t imagine we’ll be moving you, huh?”

If you were in a hospital, you’d have had orderlies and other nurses to help you muscle the big man onto a gurney or another bed, but even with Hoyt and Luda Mae, you didn’t imagine you’d be moving him anywhere anytime soon.

You scribbled down a few more items you would need—scissors, a bedpan or at least a bucket—then resumed your exam. The flesh around his injury was red and angry-looking, or blackened and starting to rot. His torso was covered in coarse hair, and you added a razor to your list...then noted that the skin around his injury needed to be shaved, when you realized they probably weren’t going to give you anything like a weapon. Soap and water went on the list, as well as clean rags.

You pressed the underside of your wrist to his forehead. You hoped Luda Mae could find acetaminophen, or something similar, because his fever needed to be taken care of first and foremost. He was burning up, and that could kill him faster than anything else.

You hurriedly added latex gloves and a face mask to the list, but you were certain they had nothing like that around. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, though. You raised your hands, putting your fingers to his pulse-point and checking your watch to take his pulse, only to jump when a huge, hot hand engulfed your wrist. Your eyes met his, and your breath caught. Pure rage stared back at you, and your heart-rate skyrocketed once again. His hand squeezed, and the strength in his grip was terrifying. He sat up and seemed to loom, despite his obviously pained hunch. You licked your lips nervously, trying to calm yourself. He was likely delirious, and you’d seen the kind of damage even small women could inflict in a fit of delirium—you didn’t want to find out what this man might be capable of when he wasn’t in his right mind. It was hard to find your words, but you managed to say, “Thomas?”

That caused his eyes to widen a fraction, the anger evaporating into surprise. Exhaling hard, you smiled in relief. “H-hey there, big guy. Your family—“ You swallowed. “Found. They found me, Thomas.” You kept saying his name, hoping it would ground him. “Looks like you’re hurt, but I’m gonna take care of you, okay? I’m a nurse. I’m here to fix you up.” His other hand reached up to cover his face, and your brows furrowed. “Is there something wrong? Are you breathing okay?”

He just stared at you, one huge hand spanning the lower half of his face. Then you remembered the deformities you’d caught sight of, and your stomach twisted. Was he...hiding them? “Your mama said you had trouble talking. Is that true, Thomas?” He didn’t respond. You licked your lips again, nervous. His hand flexed on your wrist. “Okay. Um. I have a few questions for you. Can you nod for me?”

For a long minute, he didn’t respond, and you were starting to worry he really was delirious, but he gave you a slow nod, and you smiled. “Good. Good! Okay. Nod for me again if you’re hurt anywhere besides your chest.” He shook his head. “Does your head hurt?” He shook his head again. “Good. I see you’re covering your face. Are you having trouble breathing?” Another head shake. “Good. You’re doing really good for me, Thomas. Thank you for answering my questions. I’m going to explain what I’m doing, but I need you to give me back my hand, okay?” He exhaled hard, the sound almost like a growl. Nevertheless, he loosened his grip, and you smiled at him. “Thank you, Thomas. I’m just taking your pulse. So, I’m going to put my fingers on your neck and count your heartbeats. Is that okay?”

He eyed you, then gave a subtle nod. You pressed your fingers to his neck and felt his throat flex against your fingers as he swallowed. You checked your watch, counting his heartbeats as the seconds ticked down. When you were finished, you smiled at him and said, “Good. Your pulse is just fine. Now we’re going to see about getting that fever down, okay?”

He exhaled, watching you warily, but exhaustion seemed to get the better of him. He laid back down, head resting on the limp pillow, but he never took his hand off his face. The door opened behind you, and you turned, happy to see Luda Mae. “Did you find acetaminophen?”

She handed you a basket. “I emptied the medicine cabinet. Look in there, see if you can find—Thomas?” She went to him immediately and started fussing over him. He didn’t seem to react to her, his gaze fixed on you. “Don’t worry about her. She’s here to help. Hoyt found her.” She leaned close to Thomas, and you could hear faint whispering, but you couldn’t understand what she was actually saying. It didn’t matter—you were too busy sorting through the medicine bottles.

You grinned, finding a bottle of penicillin and a bottle of ibuprofen. Their expiration dates were long past, but digging deeper didn’t net you anything helpful.

“T-thank you,” you said, belatedly, You struggled to read the label, but it was too faded and worn. You eventually gave up and measured out what seemed like too many pills, hoping to counteract the pills’ age-induced ineffectiveness. You stepped alongside the bed and took Thomas’ free hand. You turned it palm-up, and passed off your handful of pills. He watched you intently the whole time, looking from your hand—resting lightly on the underside of his fingers—and back to your face, searching your features. You smiled for him, trying not to get nervous under his gaze. “W-water?” you asked, unable to get the full sentence out.

He just pulled his hand free of yours and sat up, turning his big body away to hide his face while he swallowed the pills dry. “Oh.” You looked to Luda Mae, and seeing the hard expression on her face, you tensed immediately. Swallowing hard, you gave her your list. She skimmed it, pausing to eye you.

“What do you need a face mask for, girl?”

Her tone was harsh, angry, and you had no idea why. You took the pen and paper, scribbling out an explanation. “It’s for you,” she said flatly, “You’re worried about getting your germs on him?” You nodded. She shook her head. “Ain’t got nothing like that ‘round here.”

A handkerchief? you wrote.

She cocked her head, then nodded. “Yeah. I can probably find something like that.”

“Gloves?” you asked.

“Nothing like you’re asking for—we got leather workman’s gloves. Would that work?” You shook your head, vowing to wash your hands especially thoroughly. “I’ve already got water heating up. I’ll bring up some soap when that’s ready. Hoyt’s not gonna let you have scissors—that just to cut the guaze?”

You glanced at Thomas, then at Luda Mae. Since he seemed lucid, you turned to address him directly. “Thomas, listen, there’s mud and blood on your trousers. Your injury is already infected. We need to try to keep things clean so the infection doesn’t come back once we get it all bandaged up. Do you think you can take off your pants on your own? Or do you need help?”

His eyes went wide, and he lunged for the blanket—but you saw the moment the pain hit him. His features paled and his hand fell away from his face, grasping at nothing. He never uttered a sound, though, and he still managed to snatch the blanket, pulling it up to his ribcage. He lay back against the pillow, breathing rough and glaring at you when he remembered to cover his face again.

You pressed both hands to your mouth, appalled that he’d hurt himself. Luda Mae just sighed, shaking her head like she’d expected that. “Shoulda pulled them off while he was sleeping,” she said to you. Now you stared at her, equally horrified. “Thomas Brown Hewitt, you behave yourself and let her do her job, you hear?”

He didn’t respond, didn’t acknowledge that she’d spoken at all—he just continued to glare at you. Wringing your hands, you were having trouble finding your words again, but you shook your head when Luda Mae tried to tug the blanket out of his grip. You caught her hand, shaking your head when she looked at you.

You weren’t going to force him to strip. He was conscious, apparently not delirious despite the fever. You were going to get him to cooperate with you. You just needed to find your words.

Exhaling slowly, you shooed her away from the bed and leaned down to meet Thomas’ gaze. “Thomas, I’m a nurse. I want to make you feel better. Sometimes, I might ask you to do something uncomfortable or even painful, but I’m not going to hurt you. Promise. Now, your ma can find a fresh pair of pants for you to wear, and I won’t look while you put them on or while you take these off. Would that be okay?”

Thomas searched your face. You had no idea what he was looking for or what he found, but eventually, he exhaled audibly—not quite a sigh or a snort, but something between the two—and gave you a subtle nod. You smiled, patting his hand. “Thank you, Thomas.” He stared at your hand on his, brows furrowed as if he was trying to understand something. You hesitated, then said, “You know, you don’t have to cover your face like that.” His gaze snapped back to your face, glaring again. You swallowed when he growled at you, and you held up your hands. “Okay. If you don’t want me to see, that’s okay too. Your ma is going to get me a handkerchief for my face, so I don’t germs on your injury. Would you like one too? So you don’t have to hold your hand over your face?”

He gave a firm nod. Luda Mae shook her head, but there was a grim smile on her face. “I’ll get you what you asked for, but I suggest you start explaining the maggots to him before Charlie gets back.”

Hearing that, Thomas grabbed your forearm, his grip almost painfully tight. You met his gaze, and his demand for an explanation was clear enough, even without words. Your heart jolted, but you laid your hand overtop his, smiling nervously as you tried to find the right words to explain to him.

[tenthgrove]

L'inizio- A La Squadra Backstory Collection

Chapter 3: Due Cuori (Sorbet & Gelato Part 1)

Word Count: ~3800

Warnings: parental abandonment, homelessness, mildly-suggestive behaviour

The young boy sobs into the bag he’s carrying as he flees down the dark, damp street. The quick-paced footsteps of his pursuer sound loudly as they smack against the wet concrete. The boy prays for some rain to cover the sounds of his panting and running, but he knows such luck will not be afforded to him.

He is out of his depth in this part of Naples. Not yet 14, he’s one of many such young fools who thought it would be easy to snatch a little money from one of the smaller street gangs that roam this part of the town, making the crucial mistake of thinking ‘smaller’ was synonymous with less relentless. The boy has barely a moment to comprehend the dead end ahead of him before he is knocked sharply around the back of his head and sent reeling to the floor.

“Where the hell is my money, you shit?!” the angered man interrogates him sharply. He rears a clenched fist ready to strike him again, and the boy cowers against the wall.

“It’s there! Right there!” he shrieks desperately, pointing at the back dropped at his side. The man spits. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gun. “I swear Signor! The money’s there!” the boy pleads, his voice hitching in mortal terror. The man scoffs venomously.

“Yeah, I heard.”

Two shots ring out, but they aren’t aimed at the boy. The man’s blood splashes over him as he chokes on it, falling to the ground without a word. The boy counts two wounds on the man’s back.

The figure at the end of the alleyway lowers his gun and begins to approach. He is somewhere on the boundary between boyhood and manhood, perhaps about 18, at a first guess. He is darkly dressed, with hair to match, and he returns his weapon to his pocket with a detached smoothness that suggests great experience with the murderous act. He leans over the boy and picks up his bag, smiling in satisfaction at the wad of cash crudely jammed inside. He zips the bag up and hauls it over his shoulder.

“Grazie,” he thanks him, turning away and beginning his journey back down the alleyway.

He does not walk far before he reaches his destination- a small house in a densely packed row just a street away. He knocks calmly, and the door soon opens.

“Ah, Sorbet,” the responder answers. “I thought I’d heard gunfire.”

“’Evening Gabriele,” he greets him, sorting off some of the money in his hands. “20,000 lire says I can stay the night.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Gabriele agrees with a small chuckle. “Come right in, friend.”

Sorbet removes his jacket and seats himself down on the sofa, shuffling the bag protectively behind his legs. He takes off his own bag as well and pilfers through to find the chewing gum he’s been saving for this evening.

“May I ask how you still haven’t found a place of your own? Surely you must be rolling in it from all that blood money you’ve got lately. Hell,” he remarks, eyeing the money poking out from behind Sorbet’s lap. “You could probably sort yourself out for a couple months on that alone.”

“You can certainly ask,” Sorbet answers apathetically.

“Well?”

Sorbet looks at him contemplatively before deciding he’s in the mood for compliance tonight. He leans back.

“To put it simply I’ve just been out of it too long. ‘Don’t have my birth certificate, ‘don’t have any documents of that sort. I left home at 14 and frankly I’d be shocked if I wasn’t legally dead by now. Well, assuming my mum was ever lucid enough to do the paperwork, that is.”

“You could rent a flat from the gang. They’d hardly say no to you,” Gabriele suggests.

“Not really a fan of that sort of obligation, Gabe,” Sorbet refutes him. “Besides, the quote on quote ‘buildings’ the gang owns get busted by the cops all the time. I hardly wanna deal with that at 1 in the morning.”

“True,” Gabriele snorts. A knock sounds at the door. “Who the fuck at this time of night?” he gripes.

“No idea, but have fun with them,” Sorbet says, getting to his feet. “I’m off to help myself to your shower,” he announces, departing up the stairs. Gabriele answers the door.

“H-Hello,” the newcomer greets. It’s another teenager, with messy blond hair and a sky of freckles. He shivers into his thin jacket, hand red-raw from clutching his heavy bag. “Are you Gabriele?” he asks.

“Who’s asking?” Gabriele says with scrutiny.

“My name is Gelato, sir. You don’t know me, but I know a friend of yours from Florence, well, small village outside of Florence, I’m sure you know which one I mean. I heard from him you wanted to get someone to do errands for you and well, I was wondering if I could do that for you,” the boy offers. There’s a wild look in his desperate green eyes, and Gabriele knows this won’t end quickly for him.

“Kid, that was weeks ago! What the hell took you so long?” he asks.

“It’s not my fault I had to walk here!” Gelato protests. “Look, I got kicked out by my parents, I’m only 17 and if you don’t help me I’ll have nowhere to go!” he pleads.

“That’s rough and all, but the job’s closed. Go find a shelter or something.”

“PLEASE!” Gelato begs. He’s trembling, but there’s a touch of anger in his eyes as he glares at him that makes Gabriele mildly scared to turn him down.

“Look, I have neither the need nor the money for another errand boy right now. But, now I think of it I do know a guy who needs someone to manage a bar for him. Make no mistake, it’s nothing more than a meet-up spot for the gang so don’t expect anything fancy, but I think it has a flat upstairs. Maybe you can ask to move into the place as your pay.”

“A bar? That’s perfect!” Gelato enthuses. “Thank you thank you so much!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, I’m happy for you. Now If I go give the guy a call will you please piss off?” Gabriele entreats him.

“Anything you say sir! Thank you!” Gelato agrees. Gabriele heads for his phone with a sigh.

::::::::::::

An hour later, Gelato finds himself in the staff-only section of what was once a fully functioning bar.

“Look kid, it’s not hard stuff,” his guide tells him. “Just keep ‘em drunk enough they can’t kill each other and ring me up if you hear any talk the boss ought to here,” he explains.

“Yes sir, I will,” Gelato answers dutifully. The man opens a rickety door leading to a thin, steep staircase. Gelato follows him up.

“And, this is the flat you were so eager about,” the man announces, looking over the dark, dust-filled space of the bare-bones apartment. There’s a frightful stain on the sofa, and one of the kitchen cabinet doors is hanging on one hinge. “Consider yourself lucky I’m letting you have it when I could be giving it to someone who pays. Don’t expect a penny more from me, this is your full payment,” he continues.

“But how will I eat?” Gelato protests.

“I guess you better hope they tip you good,” the man answers apathetically. “Look, if you do a good job and don’t piss me off, maybe I can spare a few thousand lire a night later on, but until then, you’re getting no more help from me,” he maintains. “Maybe you should learn to pickpocket. ‘Useful skill to have around here.”

Gelato growls inwardly. Of course he knows how to pickpocket! Well- how to pickpocket 13 year olds outside a school gate. Grown men might be a different matter, but he’ll figure it out. Getting caught can’t be much worse than what happened when his parents found out.

“Alright. Thanks,” Gelato forces himself to say. The man gives a satisfied nod and exits.

“Make sure you know where everything is before you open at 9,” he says.

Gelato seeks out the bedroom and lies down, not caring how musty the frayed sheets smell. He grabs the pillow and hugs it close to him like a stuffed toy. It occurs to him that he’s scared.

::::::::::::

It takes him a month to accept his parents aren’t taking him back, two to stop fucking up every day of his life and three to feel some sense of normalcy in his new life at the bar. That’s not to say he’s happy, by any means, simply that he holds onto his current existence with a vice-grip, for fear that things could only get worse if he shook the boat too much.

He sleeps until noon, usually, leaves the house as soon as he’s awake enough to do so and just walks. Anywhere. Sometimes he tries to pickpocket but ever since that beating he earned from a poorly chosen victim, he saves it for his most desperate days. After lunch, if he has any, he sometimes goes to the library. He was never much of a scholar and rarely reads, but he finds the place more pleasant to dissociate in than his apartment.

Should he feel like treating himself, he occasionally visits the arcade when he has the change to spare. After it became clear letting him waste away was not in the landlord’s best interests if he wanted his bar to stay running, he began to help a little with food costs but nowhere near enough for such frivolous outings to be frequently affordable.

Around 3pm, Gelato goes home and sleeps until his hunger forces him to get up and eat. He likes to make a start early on setting up the bar, and cleaning it from the messes of its previous nights patrons, so he tries to begin by 7. It opens at 9 and closes at 2, after which Gelato will shower, and spend a short stretch of time watching the old, boxy TV he pulled out of the attic in bed, before sleeping.

As he exits the cellar, he receives a few apathetic glances from some of the patrons but ultimately nothing much. His eyes are on the far corner of the bar where, to perhaps less of his concern than it should be, two men are engaged in a heated argument. It’s a sight he’s well used to now, but he keeps a keen watch on the men, since the landlord insisted he de-escalate anything that looks like it may prove fatal.

“I don’t care what your excuses are! We had a deal and you’re going to fucking pay me!” The first man shouts. He is one of the younger ones, probably little older than Gelato but with an air of authority more akin to some of the older individuals in the mob. He has heard whispers about this man- his name is Sorbet and he is an enforcer. The mobsters are cautious about the word ‘assassin’, it makes them sound like a more ambitious group than they truly are, one that could be deemed a threat by the larger syndicates that truly control this city. Yet, Gelato reads between the lines when they talk about the things Sorbet has done. As Gelato approaches Sorbet’s eyes flick towards him momentarily. Gelato shies away from the eye contact and feels an odd feeling inside him. Seeing Sorbet always makes him feel odd. He doesn’t dare speak to him directly.

“Whatever. It ain’t on me if you misread what we were talking about. You did me a favour, nothing more,” the second man retorts. He’s another regular, as familiar to Gelato, if not more, than Sorbet is, even if he doesn’t know him by name. He is a cruel man, impatient and aggressive whenever he visits. Gelato always tremors a little when he comes through the door.

Still, he scares him less than Sorbet.

Gelato forces a smile as he approaches the second man.

“Pardon me, could I get you any more-” he inhales sharply as the half-full bottle of wine is chucked over him.

“Yes, one more of these,” the man orders coldly. Gelato wipes his eyes.

“Right away,” he nods, turning back towards the cellar and fighting every fibre of his being telling him not to let this slide.

Gelato descends into the cellar, shaking from the cold of his wet clothes and anger. As he pulls a new bottle off the shelf he wonders briefly if he ought to piss in it, but decides the best result that could come of that is having it thrown over him again. He pats down his shirt and takes the bottle back up to the bar.

He knows what has happened before the door is even open. The sound of shouting is familiar to him, and if the past few minutes is anything to go by, it’s Sorbet and that petulant man’s feud which has turned violent. Opening the door proves his theory, as a small crowd has formed around Sorbet and his opponent as they engage in a relentless match of fists.

Gelato debates to himself. He could put down the bottle and run, he could try and calm the men down and risk one or both of them turning their anger on him, or he could use this opportunity to finally get back at that bastard’s disrespect. Gelato’s never been much of a thinking sort. His mind doesn’t take long to settle on the third option. He rears the bottle above his head and charges.

There’s a collective gasp of shock as Gelato suddenly crashes into the man, smashing the bottle over the back of his skull with full strength. It shatters, and the man falls to the floor with a groan. Gelato looks up at Sorbet, briefly fearing his interference may have provoked anger but, Sorbet only smiles.

Gelato rushes to his feet just in time to join his new ally in kicking the man, again and again until he starts to spit blood. Gelato picks up the remains of the bottle’s base and pours out the remaining liquid onto his enemy’s face in one, final insult. The crowd cheers. Evidently this man was not so popular with the gang after all.

Gelato sits down, whoozy from exhaustion and adrenaline. He finds himself laughing. He cannot recall the last time he’s done that. Sorbet leans down and pulls a stack of cash from the unconscious man’s pocket.

“Lying bastard,” he scoffs. “He did have the money. Probably a lot more than I asked for, but I can hardly complain about that.” Sorbet turns to Gelato with a look of deliberation. He pulls out one of the 50,000 lire bills and hands it to him with a smile.

“For your trouble,” he declares. He withdraws his hand with a slow deliberateness, their fingertips touching for just the briefest of seconds. The odd feeling Gelato has felt since laying eyes on Sorbet returns with a vengeance, and yet, Gelato can feel nothing but awe as it begins to eat his heart.

Oh dear. Gelato might have a crush.

::::::::::::

It is three days later to the hour, that Gelato finds himself hauled into the cellar and pinned against the wall, mouth agape in shock as Sorbet digs his fingers into his neck. It occurs to Gelato he might have gone about this the wrong way.

“Alright, spit it out,” Sorbet demands. “What the hell was that up there?”

“Pardon?” Gelato pleads fearfully.

“Did you think I would let you get away with mocking me like that?” Sorbet asks through gritted teeth. Gelato’s mind turns to the myriad of weapons no doubt hidden in Sorbet’s clothes. That thought shouldn’t endear him as much as it does.

“Mocking?”

“Oh? Is there another explanation for why you would behave like that around me? Humiliate me in front of half my gang? Well?!” Sorbet entreats him. His grip around his neck tightens

“Flirting! It was flirting!” Gelato confesses desperately. Sorbet’s grip lessens.

“What?”

“Look. I think I like guys, you like guys or at least everyone says you do. And- I think I might like you a lot so- I wanted your attention. I wanted to talk to you again,” Gelato admits sheepishly. His cheeks start to burn, and it isn’t from the lack of oxygen any more.

Sorbet looks like something in his brain must have just blown a fuse. Perhaps Gelato should take this opportunity to run, since this half-assed attempt at seduction is clearly a resounding failure.

But then Sorbet starts to laugh. It’s a low, quiet laugh but nonetheless genuine as he fixes his eyes warmly on the floor.

“Oh you dear thing. That isnot how this works,” he says. Gelato breathes out in relief, as well as a little disappointment.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. This was stupid I should- probably just go back to my work,” he apologises. His body goes still as Sorbet touches a hand to his cheek.

“Though if you ever want my attention again,” he leans in and presses his lips lightly against Gelato’s. “You should just ask.”

Sorbet lets out a little hum of amusement at the sight of Gelato’s shock. He caresses his face once more, touching his finger to a little curl of hair as he does so, before finally freeing Gelato from his hold.

“See you later,” he promises, before leaving him alone in the cellar. Above him, Gelato hears Sorbet walk out in the direction of the front door. Gelato collects himself, and calmly wanders over to the sink, waiting patiently for it to fill with water.

He sticks his head in and screams.

::::::::::::

Sorbet visits the bar twice weekly, no different from before. But he starts visiting Gelato more often. Barely a week from their first kiss, they are in bed together, Gelato clinging onto his new love tightly as he reads. This touch is alien to him and in spite of his joy, he cannot help but quiver as Sorbet pets his hair. He wonders how he ever lived his life without knowing joy this strong.

Their second week is easier. They both start to become accustomed to this newfound love and no longer think of each other as strangers. Gelato knows Sorbet’s full name now, he knows which street he grew up on and the names and ages of each of his siblings. Sorbet knows what Gelato’s parents did for a living. He knows the name of the boy he had his first real fight with, and the therapist who tried and failed to relieve him of the ‘learning disabilities’ that made his parents despise him so deeply. Sorbet tries to at least drop in on most days, but when he can’t, he calls Gelato to tell him where he’s staying for the night. Gelato thinks of him as he falls asleep, hugging his pillow close.

By week three, the pair have found a new normal together. Sorbet sleeps over more often than not, and the bar patrons now know full well not to cause Gelato trouble when Sorbet is in the building. Sorbet has made every aspect of Gelato’s life more enjoyable, and he can see in Sorbet’s eyes that the feeling goes both ways. Gelato knows why Sorbet left home four years ago, and Sorbet knows how Gelato really wants to get revenge of his parents for abandoning him. On precisely day 19 of their affair, Gelato asked Sorbet if he planned to keep doing this with him forever. Sorbet did not hesitate in saying yes.

It’s a few days later that Sorbet comes to the bar with an especially warm smile on his usually cold face. Gelato thought little of putting down his current orders to rush over and greet him at the door.

“Sorbet, you’re here early!” Gelato enthuses. Sorbet pecks his cheek.

“I thought we might spend a night to ourselves. I think you need it, Caro.”

“But Sorbet, the bar doesn’t close for three more hours yet!” Gelato reminds him.

“Not if I can help it.”

Sorbet raises his gun and fires it twice at the ceiling. The patrons look up in fear. “Alright, everyone out. Bar’s closed,” he announces. The patrons sheepishly get to their feet and file out.

“But, the landlord!” Gelato protests.

“Fuck the landlord. If he has a problem with this, he goes through me,” Sorbet maintains. Gelato’s breath escapes him with a laugh and he follows him upstairs.

“Really, tell me,” Gelato insists light-heartedly. “What’s brought this on?” He turns around and his face falls to see that Sorbet is looking saddened.

“I- saw my siblings today,” he announces.

“Are they… okay?” Gelato asks worriedly.

“Oh, they’re fine. I saw them down at the cafe, they didn’t notice me. Taking a look at the other ones, I’m assuming the older ones are getting better at taking care of them. It makes sense, given the ages they’re getting to. The issue is… there was another baby, this time, who wasn’t there before,” Sorbet reveals. “Probably just a month or so old, from the looks of her.”

“Sorbet…”

“My sister,” Sorbet says, bringing his head into his hands. “And I don’t even know her name!”

“Sorbet,” Gelato says, taking his head in his own hands. “It isn’t your fault the way your mother is. Looking after them isn’t your responsibility.”

“It was,” Sorbet reminds him. “Then I left.”

“Look, I’m sure they’re fine,” Gelato reiterates. “Believe me when I say there are many worse things older siblings can do than just not look after you. Now,” he begins. “How about that night we were going to have together,” he smiles.

“Right,” Sorbet recalls, pecking him on the nose. “It’s you I came to see.”

Sorbet leans forward and kisses him deeply. Gelato, so recently a stranger to the sensation, leans in further to the kiss, pawing teasingly at Sorbet’s chest to urge him on. Sorbet groans to the kiss, hooking a hand around Gelato’s collar. Downstairs, something crashes loudly.

Sorbet pulls back. He sees Gelato’s eyes widen in fear as a parade of footsteps stumble into the building. Sorbet presses a kiss to his cheek reassuringly.

“Stay calm,” he urges him. “Not a sound.”

Sorbet stands up and, watching his feet on the old floorboards, moves over to the window to peer outside.

“Shit!” he exclaims, ducking away out of view.

“What is it?” Gelato whispers.

“The police. Two cars.”

“Are they here for us?” Gelato asks, voice hitching in fear. Sorbet shakes his head quickly.

“Unlikely. They most likely thought the place was empty. If we are quick, we can still leave without them seeing us,” he promises. Gelato shrinks back.

“I’m scared,” he admits. Sorbet takes his hand in his.

“Just stay with me okay? I’ll protect you.”

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

HERE'S THE OFFICIAL ASK BABE, YOU CAN SAVE IT FOR NEXT WEEK BUT HIT ME WITH THE RONNIE GOODNESS. That boy has a serious sweet tooth (fight me it's my own canon) and I want to hear about the VERY MOMENT that it dawned on him that he can eat things off of us whenever he wants. ALLOW ME TO SET THE SCENE. Friday night. The Mandalorian is back for season two and you're both FUCKING STOKED. Ice cream sundaes. You have a little something on the corner of your mouth and he leans in to kiss it away. 💜

A/N: LET ME JUST SAY... THIS FIC GIVES ME ALL THE FUCKIN’ FEELS I COULD POSSIBLY HAVE AND I THINK IM IN LOVE WITH THIS ADORABLE NERD NOW... @millenialcatlady THANK YOU FOR PUTTING THIS NUGGET IN MY HEAD AND THANK YOU FOR ALLOWING ME TO RUN WITH WHATEVER I PLEASED AS FAR AS IT ALL GOES! I LOVE YOU MY MUSE AND I HOPE YOU LOVE THIS TAKE ON YOUR AMAZING ASK!🖤

Warnings: food play, pregnancy, pregnant sex, tit sucking, cowgirl style, DIRTY TALK (the good kind), slight breeding kink, stuffing/creampies, Use of the word Daddy but not in the kink way, absolute fluff, absolute smut, just pure marital bliss

(Text Thread) 

Ronnie: Hey, honey. At the store picking up some things. Anything you want for dinner? 

Y/N: Oh, babe, you read my mind. I would love some ice cream, chocolate sauce, cherries, the works… oh, and pickles! 

Ronnie: LOL. Okay whatever you and my lil’ pumpkin want. I’ll be home in a little bit. 

Y/N: We love you, daddy! 

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

You put the phone down to adjust your body on the couch, the further along you were getting, the harder it was to feel comfortable, let alone pretty. But Ronnie never failed to make you the happiest woman in the entire world. Always asking what you needed, rubbing every inch of your body when it ached, running baths to soothe you and your growing little one, and fucking you whenever you had the rush to eat him alive. 

He always went out and got whatever you needed, even if it meant waking up from a dead sleep at four in the morning all because ‘the baby’ wanted some black olives that seemed to be missing from the pantry. He was so selfless that way and in every way. You thanked whatever entity over and over again that he and you had met at the diner that one day. Both ordering the same cheeseburger and milkshake for lunch, sitting across the way, shooting glances as his mouth devoured the meat like the carnivore he was, and then proceeding to do the same to you in his smart car not even thirty minutes later. 

The both of you were inseparable at that point. Loving the same things, watching the same shows, eating the same foods. It was kismet in every single sense of the word and even more so when you found out that a carbon copy of you both was on the way. 

You sat there, contemplating the last year, waiting for your knight in shining armor to arrive home with the good stuff, rubbing your protruding belly as your little girl flailed around like the deviant she was. 

“I know sweetie,” you whispered to your bump, “daddy will be home in a little while,” glancing up as you heard the key turn in the lock. 

“Hey, there ladies,” your grinning husband beamed as he saw you cuddled up on the couch waiting for him, “how’s my favorite girls?” he put the paper sack down and knelt between your legs, pulling your face to him with his large hands, kissing you with the sweetest effort he could muster. 

“We’re good daddy,” you grinned, grabbing his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along his shaven cheeks, admiring his soft pouted lips, “we missed you today.” 

He sighed, bringing his hands to meet your bump, rubbing it to get his daughter’s attention, “I missed you girls too,” bending his head down to meet your clothed skin, kissing the baby, “So. Much.” 

A series of flutters hit his hands as your daughter squirmed at his honeyed voice, “I think we’re slightly hungry, huh, baby girl,” he laughed as he felt more kicks pummel his fingers. 

“God, yes we are,” you whined as he got up to pick up the sack and bring it to the kitchen, “comin’ right up ladies,” he smiled grabbing the stuff out of the bag and chuckling at your excitement when bringing the jar of dill pickles and a fork your way. 

He kissed your forehead after taking the food, “I’m gonna make our sundaes after I get changed, okay honey?” 

“Ronnie, I can make the food,” you said struggling to lift your body from your spot. 

“Woah there mama,” he pushed you and your pickles back on the plush sofa, “I can do it. How about you queue up the show and put your feet up. I’ll rub ‘em when I sit down.” 

“Honey I really wan-,” 

“No,” he scolded, “you and my daughter relax while I get the menial tasks done that you shouldn’t bother yourself with. You’re the one doin’ all the hard work after all,” he grinned again, his glasses moving up his perfectly chiseled nose, displaying his precious dimples. 

You prayed that your little girl would get those perfect features of his. The ambered eyes, the dark hair, the moles that littered his body. He was too damn perfect. 

“Okay honey,” you sat back, balancing the jar on your belly as you shoved one pickle down your throat, rolling your eyes back into your head at the satisfaction of sustenance. He chuckled again, padding upstairs to change into more comfortable clothes as you got your weekly show ready for viewing. 

He made his way down after changing into a pair of black joggers, and a grey t-shirt, the sight of him hopping down the stairs causing a warmth to radiate through your pussy. After a few minutes of cabinet opening, and fridge closing, he came into the room armed with the majestic concoctions he’d created for the both of you, grinning ear to ear at the sight of your doe eyes twinkling at the food. 

“Babe,” you looked at him, “I love you so much, this looks amazing!” 

“I thought you’d like all the fixings,” he grinned even wider, sitting down and handing your special sundae to which you located where the pickle jar had been. 

He situated himself with an arm around you, and the sundae on his thigh, lifting the blanket you’d had over him so he could scoot even closer. After some rearranging, you pressed play on the show you’d decided on and devoured your ice cream as if you’d never had any your entire life.  

Half an hour in you held the empty bowl, thinking about sitting up to put it on the coffee table. You started to strain up to put it there, when Ronnie noticed your movements before you could even put them to action, “honey, here,” gesturing his large hand to which you placed it in and he did the deed for you. 

Sitting back after putting both bowls down, he threw his arm back around your shoulder, and the other to meet your belly, rubbing the spot as you laid your head between his neck. He looked down at the scene before him, smiling and kissing your crown, taking in the jasmine-scented shampoo that emanated from your gorgeous hair. Grinning yet again as he saw his unborn daughter writhe under his touch. 

His eyes wandered to your plunging cleavage, where a stream of chocolate sauce had found its home. His eyes widened at the glimmer from it, thinking of how he’d love to cover you head to toe in the mixture and lick every single bit of it from your perfect skin. His loose cock straining in his joggers as he became restless at the thought of bending you over the couch and stuffing you fuller than you already were of him. 

“Babe?” you looked up at his lust-blown eyes behind his glasses, “are you okay?” running your hand to brush his painful erection. 

“What’s going on?” looking at him with concern, “do you need something?”

“Honey,” he calmly stared into your eyes, “I need to do something,” his lips fell into a pout. 

“Okay?” you gestured, “what is it?” 

“I need to fuck you,” he matter of factly said, gripping your belly with his hand. 

Your lower stomach twisted in a knot, “o-okay babe, that’s fine with me,” you chuckled at his desperation. 

“But I need to cover you,” he moved his hand to plunge in between your tits, the motion causing a gasp to leave your mouth, “with chocolate sauce,” he said showing you the amount that had found its way there in the first place. 

You were fully on fire at this point, willing to let him cover you in anything he wanted to get him to fuck you good and hard. 

“Get the bottle,” you gripped his forearm, pleading him to wreck you.

He jumped from the couch and ran to the kitchen to grab the large bottle of sauce, grinning like a fucking kid in a candy store. In the time he had grabbed it and run back, you were already completely undressed and sat upon the edge of the couch, tits, and belly protruding out as you arched your back towards him.  

“Fuck, honey,” he beamed at your changed body, opening the bottle to drip it on your delicate skin, “you look fucking delicious,” watching the cascade of sweetness drip into the crevices of your breasts.

You sat there, completely dazed as your husband painted a mural on your tits, musing as he watched the chocolate cover your engorged peaches. 

“Perfect,” he marveled, capping the bottle and setting it on the coffee table. He made quick to remove his shirt, displaying his thick body to which you shuddered at the sight. 

“Suck my fuckin’ tits babe,” you mewled, falling to pieces as he brought his lips to your aching buds, sucking the life out of them as he situated himself between your legs kneeling before you on the couch again. His hands caressing your luscious pregnant curves, rubbing the sauce all over his face and your jugs. 

“These fuckin’ tits,” he moaned, “they’re gonna be the death of me, honey,” removing his glasses as he devoured them, leaving no trace of chocolate as he finished his work. 

He gazed at your blissed-out face, taking in the sounds you made and the way your lips parted as he made you fall apart over his gestures. His hand wandered down to your heat, feeling the wetness seeping out of your weeping cunt for him. 

“So fuckin’ delicious,” he groaned, rubbing the skin with his middle finger. 

“I want you to ride me, honey,” he begged with golden eyes. 

You of course couldn’t resist his puppy dog pleading and made him lay back on the couch like the good boy he was. 

“Take your pants of babe,” helping him undo his joggers as his large cock sprung free from its cage. Grabbing it in your soft hands and pumping it as he guided you onto his lap, your juicy thighs straddling either side of him. You let him help you guide your pussy to his tip, settling down as the shaft was covered by your walls as you sank down. 

“Fuck, Ronnie,” you whined out, feeling every inch of him touch your fluttering pussy, “you make me feel so damn full babe.” 

Undulating your hips on his lap, his hands gripping your sides with a bruising touch, rocking you back and forth on his body. 

“Yeah, honey?” he panted, “you like bein’ all full of me don’t you?” 

Thrusting up into your cunt, knocking on your tight cervix, releasing a piercing moan from your open mouth. 

“Goddammit!” you screamed speeding up your motions, “I fucking love it so much!” 

Your tits bouncing at his gyrations, your belly on display, it was almost too much for your poor husband. Your walls began to clench around him, signaling your orgasm, to which he moved his left hand down towards your throbbing clit. Rubbing tight little circles as he watched you unravel in front of him for the millionth time that night. 

“That’s it, honey,” he growled, “fucking cum all over my cock. You know you want to.” 

Watching your face look down at him, screaming for release, “I wanna cum on your big cock babe!” 

“Fuck Y/N,” his eyes went wide as your pussy released its sweet nectar, causing his pulsations to quicken. 

“I’m gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he gritted his teeth as you were rag-dolled on his thighs, sweat beading up on his forehead as he watched you grip your aching tits whining and moaning like a whore on his thick cock splitting you in half. 

“Stuff me full babe!” you cried out, rubbing your sensitive nipples, as he slammed your hips harder with his. He let out a feral growl as his dick twitched inside you, releasing his potent seed into your sopping hole. He pumped up and down slowly, watching the mixture began to seep out, only to have this bright red cock push it back in with a squelch and a groan. 

You both took some deep breaths, stilled in position, still gripping your tits as his hands left your hips to grip your bump, “you girls okay?” coming out of his haze in concern. 

“Yes babe,” you laughed moving to get off his lap to be more comfortable, “we’re just fine, I promise,” patting his blushing chest as he tried to control his pulse while helping you get into position. He sat up, grabbing your t-shirt from the ground as well as his, helping you place it back on, kissing every inch of your face and neck as he did so. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he grinned, pulling your face to his in a searing kiss as your fingers found his loose strands, pushing them back as your tongues danced over each other. 

You pulled off, gazing into the swirl of his ambered eyes, still petting the baby hairs that had stuck to his face, “I love you too babe.” 

At that moment, your daughter made her presence known again, sandwiched in between your sweat covered bodies. Ronnie brought his large hand to meet your over your belly, “she’s gonna be mad at us all night now, huh?” he laughed, rubbing on the spot where her little foot was poking in and out. 

“Ya,” you agreed, “I’m gonna be up all night with her I think,” putting your other hand over his and kissing his cheek as you both sat back into the embrace of the couch. 

Leaning down to press his lips to your bump, “pumpkin you’d better not give your mama any grief tonight,” he pecked a few times, rubbing his thumb over the flutters erupting, “she needs to sleep just as much as you do baby girl.” 

Your hands rubbed the back of his head as he nuzzled on your belly, cradling it as he shushed your squirming little one. The sounds of his hushing lulling you to sleep in the light of the tv playing the show you’d both been neglecting. 

After a few minutes of rubbing and cooing, he lifted his head to look at your sleeping form, admiring the way your face looked so peaceful in the white light of the tv. He kissed your forehead, gripping under your knees and back, lifting your dead weight into his hulking body. He sauntered up the stairs, carefully moving you out of the way of sharp objects and corners as he found your shared bedroom. He placed you gently on the bed, making sure you were on your side, and grabbed the body pillow you’d worn out over the last few months of its purchase. 

He placed it just so it supported the baby, and your aching body, watching as you closed in on its plushness, sighing in relief when you’d relaxed on it. He stared in the dim light of your bedside lamp in total adoration of you, noticing the baby moving in your body as you quietly snored. 

He bent down once more to kiss the appendage poking out, “go to sleep baby girl,” he whispered on your skin, “mama and I love you to the moon and back, pumpkin,” kissing it again and then moving up to you. 

“Goodnight honey,” he whispered into your ear, kissing it at softly as he possibly could, “I love you more than life itself.” 

He switched the lamp off, and slid into his side of the bed, enveloping himself around you, cradling his baby. Letting out a heavy sigh as he let the sweet sounds of your snores lull him to sleep. 

-----------

I. AM. A. FUCKIN’. PUDDLE. 

IF ANYONE NEEDS ME IM BURYING MYSELF ALIVE BECAUSE IVE DIED OVER THIS ONESHOT. I JUST LOVE IT SO MUCH. 

🖤,

ray-nal-beads  

[13-reasons-ideas]

Can’t Go Back Part 17

A/N: This chapter is pretty fluffy. We get a glimpse at how they are moving forward in their relationship since their fight. I’m planning on uploading a part from Monty’s perspective about what he’s doing Friday after school tomorrow or sometime this weekend. I hope you enjoy. Feedback is appreciated as always and much love. -Em 

I spent the next week actively not checking my emails. I was too afraid to even consider if I would get emails about schools yet.  It had only been a week. But you never know. In an attempt to keep my mind off of the fact that my entire future was now completely and totally out of my control, I tried to fill my time with normalcy. Things I normally did. Things that Monty and I normally did. That normalcy now included carving out an hour and a half for Monty’s physio three days a week, but we made it work.

I tried to get back into my routine. For the most part, I went to bed at the same time every night. Some days Monty went with me, other days he stayed up and did stuff for a while. But he came to bed every night. I went to the game Friday night. Scott and Charlie came over for brunch on Saturday. Justin came over to see his new best friend, I mean me, on Sunday because he picked up a shift Saturday morning. Monty and I did our own things together in the evenings during the week. I pretended to read while he played video games one night. Secretly, I was just watching him. For some reason watching people play video games was highly entertaining. We just did normal things.

We also went grocery shopping Saturday. “Are you sure you want to come with me?” I asked again.

“Yes, I’m sure Addison. Besides, we are over halfway to the store. It’s a little late to change my mind now.”

“Okay. Remember the list please.”

“I know. There’s a list and we get what’s on the list.”

“Exactly.”

At the store, I grabbed a cart and dug through my purse for the list and my pen. Monty took the cart from me without asking. I feigned an affronted look. He smirked back. Cocky bastard. I can already tell this is going to be so fun. I opened my mouth to speak when we got inside. “List, I know. And yes. I remember you’re going to make us get vegetables.”

“And you have to get at least one that you like.” He pouted. “You like carrots.” I offered.

“Fine.” He muttered. We are in a dramatic mood today. It was so peaceful when I went by myself. But I missed this. Monty went and put exactly five bulk carrots in a bag. Not wanting to fight him on carrots, I didn’t say anything. As usual, I was in charge of the rest of our vegetables.

The aisles were an easier task. There were no evil scary vegetable that I would have to force him to eat. I quickly scanned down the list as we entered each aisle. Carefully, everything was placed in the cart just so. “We need this.” Monty said, grabbing a box of cheese its.

“Is it on the list?” In response, he plucked the list and pen from my hand, and scribbled it on.

“It is now.” I rolled my eyes and grinned as he handed it back to me. His cheeky grin made me blush. I turned my back and pretended to look at something when we got to the fruit snack aisle and ignored the telltale thud of a box, make that two boxes, of fruit snacks being chucked in the cart. He didn’t write them on the list.

We both cringed at the price of meat, as usual. But we needed it so there wasn’t a whole lot we could do. I crossed things off that had been missed as we were filling the cart. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like the store was out of anything. “Oh, we need butter.” I muttered.

“Is it on the list?” Monty smirked. Like he had done earlier with the crackers, I quickly wrote it down.

“Yes.” I grinned. He grinned and stopped to kiss me on the cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Now let’s get this done so we can go home and do nothing.”

“Your wish is my command.” There was even a dramatic wave of his arm to accompany his attempt to woo.

“You are so fucking cheesy. I’m telling the guys about that one.”

“Ah, come on Addison. You love it.”

I went to grab a couple of pounds of butter and decided I could trust my adult husband to get some bread and jam on his own. When I found him in the bakery with our cart, I remembered that I married an overgrown child. There was bread. And there was jam. And also, cookies. Four different kinds of cookies. And a thing of strudel. Which, to be honest, I wasn’t that upset about because it’s like the best pastry. But the point is that it was there.

“I asked you to get bread and jam. Not half of the baked goods in the store.”

“But cookies are delicious Addison. And you like their chocolate chip cookies. And for some reason I still don’t understand, plain oatmeal cookies. Don’t even lie and say the strudel was a bad idea.”

“So, the sugar cookies and M&M ones are just to look pretty on the counter?”

“No. Those ones are for me.”

“I married a fuckin’ child.” I muttered softly. We turned when we heard a quiet chuckle behind us. A cute little old couple was watching our interaction with giant smiles.

“Mine still does the same thing dearie.” The woman said to me.

“Remember, we don’t grow up. We just get bigger.” The man smiled.

“I’m beginning to realize.” I laughed.

“See. I told you.” Monty smirked. As if to prove the point they were making, we watched as the man grabbed a container of lemon rolls and placed them in his cart. The woman gave him an exaggerated, exasperated look.

“Wait, how long have the two of you been married?” I asked when they passed us.

“Sixty-five years.” They said together, smiling fondly at each other. Wow. That’s amazing. I was still smiling when we got to the till and checked out.

Our normal routines continued for the rest of the week. School, physio, make dinner, sports, spend time together. The normalcy of it was refreshing.

“You’re scratching.” Monty said offhandedly, without looking up from his notes.

“Am not.”

“You stopped typing five minutes ago Addison.”

“I’m thinking.”

“And scratching.” I rolled my eyes and didn’t respond. I started typing aggressively loud to try and get a rise out of him instead. He didn’t respond at all. Not even an annoyed muscle twitch. We aren’t there yet. Okay. Monty’s phone buzzed on the coffee table beside me. I ignored it. It buzzed again. And then again. Before I could reach for it, he had hobble run over and snatched it out of my reach. I looked at him quizzically. He was trying to think of a reason to be hiding his phone from me. What is going on?

“It’s guy stuff. Jamie is having… girl troubles.”

“Girl troubles.”

“Yeah. His girlfriend but not girlfriend or something is doing stuff.”

“Something and stuff.”

“Yes. So, uh. I’ll be over… over there.” He motioned back to the kitchen table. “You know, dealing with girl troubles.”

“Right.” That was weird. Also, he’s going to pay for the movement in the morning. I went back to my writing and not scratching quietly. Occasionally I would look up over my laptop at Monty. He seemed to be very engrossed in his notes.

“Hey Addison?”

“Hmm?”

“Since the game got cancelled some of us are going over to Jamie’s place tomorrow after school.”

“’Kay.”

“Because girl troubles.”

“Yeah.”

“And stop scratching. You’ll only make the rash worse.”

The next morning, I skipped a shower. Cuddles were too enticing. It was a Friday so I didn’t feel like I had to look all cute. While Monty made himself a smoothie, I grabbed one of his shirts to wear because it was loose enough that it wouldn’t irritate the rash. It finally started to clear up. But now it itches. As though he could hear my thoughts, he called from the kitchen, “stop scratching.”

“Bite me.” I called back.

“If you don’t stop scratching, I will.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” He looked up when he heard me come in the room.

“I was going to wear that today.”

“You have like… fifty more in your half of the closet.”

“I know mum is a history professor, but dad is a businessman. I know he taught you fractions. What I have is not half of the closet.” I merely shrugged. He waved towards the bowl beside the blender. “Chunky monkey with smooth peanut butter.” I sat and took a bite.

“Yum. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Don’t worry about washing the blender. I’ll do it after school.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

School was pretty boring. It was the middle of November, so we were in the awkward not quite midterms but not quite ready for a new unit time. I met Monty at my locker after the last bell. He was waiting for me with Justin and Jamie. “Hey baby.”

“Hey babe. You guys have fun tonight, okay?”

“Yes Ma’am.” Jamie saluted. I shuddered. Monty tried to stifle a laugh.

“Jamie. Do me a favour and never do that again.” I placed a couple of textbooks in my locker. “I’ll see you at home. Can you stop and grab baking powder on your way home tonight?”

“Sure.”

“Why can’t you stop? You’re going straight there.” Justin asked.

“I have a date with a bubble bath.”

“Ooh la la.” Jamie laughed.

“I guess. Didn’t shower this morning and a bath is better for my itching.”

“Oh?” Justin asked.

“I’ll explain later.” I muttered. He furrowed his brow and looked at Monty. I kissed Monty goodbye.

At home, I went to wash my face so I could do the expensive face mask I had been saving for a night alone. I did an exfoliating treatment first and ran my bath. A few scented candles were set on our master bathroom counter and I poured myself a glass of raspberry juice. The book I had been meaning to get around to reading was sitting on the toilet for easy access. Okay fine. One of the books I had been meaning to read. It was very relaxing. I had to dig in the cabinet for my body scrub but found it behind a backup pack of deodorant from Costco. Luckily, the bubble bath was also right there. I poured some in to give it time to foam.

With my face mask done and washed off, I undressed and settled in the tub. The water was boiling hot, just the way I liked it. I sighed and sipped my juice, enjoying a night alone. When the husband is away, wife will pamper. The hot water helped to calm my itching skin. The scrub made my legs nice and smooth before I shaved them and exfoliated a second time. Once the necessaries were taken care of, I could start to relax. Picking up my book, I settled in for the foreseeable future. My book was so interesting and immersive, I completely lost track of time. I was still in the tub when Monty got home. “Addison?” He called when he didn’t find me in the kitchen.

“I’m in the bath.” I called back.

“Okay.” He was opening and closing drawers in our room. He poked his head in the bathroom. “Do you want a glass of water or anything? How long have you been in there?” I paused for a moment to consider. How long had it been?

“What time is it?”

“Almost seven.” My eyes widened.

“Really? Then yeah, I’ll take a glass of water. I’m going to get out right away.” He shut the door behind him and I threw my book across to the door so it didn’t get wet when I got out of the tub.

Once dry and moisturized, I left the bathroom in search of my husband. I found him on the couch scrolling aimlessly through his phone. “I missed you.” I bent behind the back of the couch to kiss his cheek.

“I missed you too. You look very cozy in your fuzzy pyjamas.”

“Why thank you.” I curtsied. He laughed happily. Settling next to him, I laid my head in his lap.

“How was your bath?”

“Amazing. Very relaxing. Oh! And I exfoliated and shaved my legs.” I grinned and lifted my pants leg. “Feel!”

Again, Monty laughed and shook his head. He still reached out and rubbed my leg though. “Very soft and smooth.”

“How was girl problems?”

“I think they’re resolved. It wasn’t as major or as difficult as we thought.”

“That’s good.” I peeked at his phone. He was watching football injury videos. Oh Sweetie. “Hey, how’s your knee?”

“It’s okay. Physio has been helping.”

“I’m glad.” He seemed to realize then that I wasn’t just asking for an update on his progress.

“Oh. I’m just watching this because some of them are funny.”

“Funny?”

“Yeah.” He restarted the video and adjusted his position so I could see too. He was right. Some of them were pretty funny.

It was family brunch Saturday the next day. Scott, Charlie, and Justin all came over. As usual, the four young men were more than happy to eat relatively work free. Monty did have to help me reach a few things and our guests helped set the table. But for the most part, I did the work. It was relaxing for me. Monty still felt a little uncomfortable having me do most of the work in the kitchen, but I didn’t mind. It was my choice to do it. I enjoyed it. And it made things much smoother when I was working solo.

Since it was just a casual pancake breakfast this week and just the five of us, I didn’t really feel a need to shower before they came over.  As such, I was still in my pyjamas most of the morning. They didn’t mind. We hung out for a while after brunch together. By the time everyone was getting ready to leave around two, I decided it was time to shower and make myself feel like a human again. “I’m running Scott’s place for a bit. We have a couple of things to go over with Charlie for next week’s game.” Monty explained when I was going to shower.

“No problem. I’ll just be here writing or reading or something.” From the bathroom I could hear him putzing around our room. I didn’t think too much of it. He was probably looking for a playbook or something.

After my shower, I wrapped my towels around me, fully prepared to throw on a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater for the rest of the day. Instead, I was puzzled to find a large white box in the centre of the bed. There was a bow and a single pink Post it note stuck to the lid. It simply said wear me on it in blue ink. I frowned in confusion but opened it anyway. Nestled inside was a classic, Hepburn-esque little black dress. I gasped and covered my mouth in shock. Gently lifting the dress out of the box I held it out at arm’s length to examine it. It was beautiful. This man is full of surprises. Not wanting to wrinkle the dress, I carefully set it on the bed while I grabbed a hanger.

Once it was hung up, I put on a pair of sweats and an old pyjama shirt. In the kitchen, I found another note next to the coffee machine. This one was on a yellow Post it, also in blue ink. No coffee. Look up. I frowned again. Why no coffee? Looking up on the underside of the cabinet, I found another yellow Post it. This one had an arrow pointing towards the living room. There, yet another Post it. This one was blue. There was another arrow pointing at the coat closet. A green Post it was stuck to the closet door. Be ready at 5:00. Wear your matching black pointy shoes. Now I was even more confused. Well, it says be ready. I shrugged and checked my watch. It was just past two. I rolled my eyes at the coffee note and made myself a cup anyway. I wouldn’t need to be up all night, but note be damned. I wanted coffee. I savoured it while I let my thoughts run wild of what could be in store for my night. At home fancy dress dinner? Going out for dinner? A walk in the financial district in the city? Hmmm. By two forty-five, I had finished my coffee and started getting ready.

I carefully put on the dress after I had washed my face again. I decided to curl my hair in tight ringlets so that when I brushed them out, they wouldn’t fall flat immediately. I let them set while I did my makeup. So, I didn’t get makeup all over my dress, I draped a towel around my neck to cover it. The simple black cat eye and blue red lipstick paired wonderfully with the classic, timeless style of the dress. A neutral blush and light bronzer added colour and balance to complete the look. I carefully brushed out the curls into nice waves framing my face. Using a decorative bobby pin, I pulled my bangs away from my face. Exiting our room after putting on my tennis bracelet-a birthday gift from my Gran a couple of years ago- I looked at the clock on the stove. It was four fifty. I had ten minutes to spare. Slipping on my heels, I went through my wallet and took out my ID and credit card. I had assumed that we would be going out and Monty usually kept my cards in his wallet.

The sound of a car pulling into our driveway pulled me from my thoughts. I opened the door when the car door shut. Monty was walking up to the house in a very familiar white dress shirt and black slacks. Damn, he cleans up good. I thought it every time he dressed up, no matter how often I saw it. His eyes widened slightly, and he stopped to take in my look. I stopped him in his tracks. I blushed and did a little twirl. He whistled through his teeth. “You look. Absolutely amazing.”

“You look incredible. Have I ever told you, you clean up really well?”

“Once or twice.” He shrugged. I smiled widely. He finished his walk up to the house and took my hands in his, really taking the time to take me in. “You really do look beautiful Addison.”

“Thank you.” I blushed again. My engagement ring sparkled in the setting sun. Monty’s black tungsten ring felt cool in my hand. Together, we walked to the car. We took my car, but I let him drive. It’s our insurance. “Are you going to tell me where we are going?”

“Nope.” He said as he pulled out of the driveway.

“Okay.” We chatted quietly on the way to our mystery location. Given the time, I assumed we were going to a restaurant. When we got closer to the county limits, I realized we were going into the city for dinner. I watched the cars speeding past us on the highway in the other direction. People were eager to be getting home from spending their days shopping or running errands.

I tried to figure out where we were going once we got to the city based on the turns Monty made. I was familiar with most of the downtown and financial districts due to visiting my dad at work when I was younger. I was a little surprised when he pulled in the parking lot for the new Italian place that opened last month. I wasn’t surprised because I was concerned about cost or anything like that. We just weren’t really fancy restaurant people very often. It was a pleasant surprise.

When he parked, we walked hand in hand to the door. He was a perfect gentleman and held the door not only for me but for the couple behind us. I smiled at him while we waited to be seated. He squeezed my hand. We were seated at a more secluded table, closer to the back of the restaurant. The table was lit by candlelight and dim recessed lighting in the aisle. It’s beautiful. Our waiter came by and introduced himself as Anthony. I ordered a cranberry juice with ice and Monty got a Coke. Anthony gave us a few minutes with the menus. As soon as I saw traditional carbonara on the menu, I had made a firm decision. Monty and I sat in comfortable silence while we perused the menu. Even though I knew what I wanted, it never hurt to look at the other options.

After we ordered-carbonara for me and lobster ravioli for Monty-Anthony left us to our evening. “This is really nice.” I said, after a sip of my juice.

“I figured we deserved nice. Or rather, you deserved nice. After everything… and I know you’ve been stressed about school. So, I figured you could use a night off.” He left the obvious tension between us and the cause for it unsaid. We both knew the reason.

“It’s still nice. And we do deserve it. This dress is beautiful by the way.”

“I thought you would like it.”

“When exactly did you acquire it?” I asked, with a sly raise of my brow.

“About yesterday…” Montgomery began, “Jamie wasn’t having girl troubles.”

“I kind of figured. Have they even decided if they have anything to have troubles over?”

“No. They’re still not together. But they go places together and buy each other things. And have sex. Apparently, there is a lot of sex.”

“But they aren’t dating.”

“No.”

“Maybe he is having girl troubles.”

“Maybe.” He chuckled. Anthony came by with our orders. Unsurprisingly, the food was delicious. Mouth wateringly delicious. My eyes widened in ecstasy. So did Monty’s after he took a bite of his own food. We each shared a bite with each other and smiled. So good. So so good.

We spent the rest of our evening talking and enjoying being with each other. It was very nice. We hadn’t gotten to do the whole going out and just being together thing in a while. I pushed the last of my carbonara around on my plate. I wasn’t bored exactly. I was having a wonderful time. “Hey. Where’d you go?” Monty reached across the table to take my hand.

“Oh. Nowhere. I was just thinking.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“This is really nice.” I paused.

“But…?”

“I would honestly much rather be at home in sweatpants watching the new episodes of Law & Order from the other night.”

“Me too.” He giggled. I couldn’t help but giggle along with him. He motioned to our waiter for the bill. The black holder was placed in between us. Monty placed some cash inside and set it down without so much as a glance at me. He helped me with my coat and took my hand after he put on his own. As soon as we got out of the restaurant, I stopped and turned to him.

“Race you to the car.” I grinned before taking off like a bat out of hell. I heard him bark out a laugh behind me. I didn’t look back. Nor did I turn when I heard his footsteps. He wasn’t running because of his knee. They were getting closer though. Even without running, he was able to gain on me because of his gait.  Running in heels was not the easiest thing in the world but I managed to beat him to the car. When he arrived with the keys, I was grinning at him, triumphantly from the passenger’s side. “I won.”

“Yes you did.” He was grinning back at me.

When we got home, the two of us changed into our comfiest sweatpants and t-shirts. I threw on my old Tigers hoodie and popped a bag of popcorn in the microwave after taking off my makeup. Monty pulled up the recorded episodes. I couldn’t tell if he wore his grey sweats on purpose or not. We got comfortable on the couch and hit play. From the get-go this episode of SVU had both of us on the edge of our seats. The popcorn was mostly untouched. I teared up multiple times. When it was over, I ripped the remote from the coffee table and scrolled up to the new episode of Organized Crime. I couldn’t stand to wait any longer than strictly necessary. Our eyes were glued to the screen for the whole hour, minus the fast forwarding through commercials. By the end, we turned to each other in shock. “Wow.” Was all I could say about it.

“The new theme song is pretty great.”

“Yes. I don’t know how to process any other thoughts about it though.”

“Me either.”

“Very worth the wait.” Monty only nodded in response. I yawned and stretched. It was getting pretty late. The afternoon coffee I had wore off a while ago.

“Tired Bookworm?” I yawned again and nodded. Monty carried me to bed and tucked me in. I cuddled up beside him.

Before falling asleep I mumbled, “thank you for tonight. Was really nice. Ni’ night.”

[teddy06writes]

Out of Their Grasp

requested by this anon: “hey hey I was wondering if you could do dream x George x reader fantasy/royal au (bc I just read "for his hand" and I love it so much!!) where reader and dream go to battle but only dream returns from it. and he has to tell George that reader died. the more angst the better😝💅”

and also this one: “will there be a part 2 of For His Hand? It’s so good, i loved it!”

{Technically you don’t have to read part one but I would recommend it because this one takes place in the same universe}

Dream x George x reader

trigger warnings: swearing, yelling, major character death, aGnSt

premise: war breaks out near the borders of the SMP, you and Dream are sent ahead of the royal party to the front lines in an attempt to stop any further battles until a peace can be reached when disaster strikes, leaving your partners to deal with the repercussions. 

{dude I’m like manically laughing right now}

(y/n/n)- your nickname

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“It was just skirmishes, here and there for the last few weeks,” Sam gestured to a few spots near the northern boarder on the map spread out across the table, before pointing to another in the center of the rest, “But then, yesterday there was a huge attack on the villages, and our military bases in this valley.” 

You glanced around the room, from person to person, gauging there reactions. 

George had visibly stiffened in his seat, and behind him Dream seemed equal tense. 

“Have we taken any measures to fight back?” Sapnap asked impatiently. 

“How bad are the damages?” George asked, ignoring him. 

Eret looked down at the report they’d been given, “There seems to have been more pillaging than raiding, they were breaking into peoples house, causing general destruction and looting, when our forces attempted to stop them they began to fight. All in all 30 of ours were killed and there was an estimated 10,000 in damages.” 

George frowned, as Niki spoke up, “We should pay the people reparation's and help them with any reconstruction that needs to be done.”

Many people nodded, but next to you Sapnap was still unhappy, “Are we doing anything about the invaders? We cannot just sit here and allow them to attack the people!” 

“Pushing, pushing.” You muttered. 

The king looked at him for a long moment, before turning to Callahan, the scribe, “Attempt to negotiate a peace. I don’t want anymore bloodshed to curse this land.” 

The man beside you groaned, and you were quick to elbow him in the side and Sam ended the meeting and everyone began to file out of the room, hissing, “I don’t know how they do things where you’re from but that is no way to behave in an advisory meeting. Next time you pull that shit you won’t be allowed back to one.” 

-You had taken the new coming warrior on as a sort of apprentice after he’d first arrived at the palace, and it was clear the change of pace wasn’t something he was ready for- 

“They can’t just stand by! The King is a fool if he thinks a peace can be reached like this!” 

You glared at him. “The King is no fool.” 

“You only say that out of obligation.” Sapnap fired back. 

You recoiled, burned, before crossing your arms and starting out of the room, “You may be a trained mercenary but you haven’t the faintest idea as to how to hold yourself among this crowd. It will be the death of you.” 

He followed you back toward your office, listening as you continued, “King George is a good and just man, to say that he is a fool is to say the sun is square. He has wiped this kingdom clean of many years of bloodshed. 

“The Kings advisors, and cabinet are kind, respectable people, you must remember to hold your tongue  unless spoken too, and never say anything brash as you have done now, lest you make a greater fool of yourself.” 

He huffed, “If I must stay silent in those meetings than how can I get my point across? Sending a messege to the enemy through force may be the only way!”

“Now you sound like Tommy, just as foolhardy and headstrong as the child,” You pushed the door to your office open, “I’m sure that Technoblade agrees with you, though he knows better than to speak freely.” 

“If he agrees with me than perhaps it’s the right move.” 

You turned to look at him quizzically, finally saying, “A wise king does not seek out war, no matter what his knights advise.” 

Sapnap turned, “Then the lot of them are fools.” 

“I have told you once to never disrespect the king, I suggest you don’t do it again. This land has seen it’s share of unjust rulers, be thankful you have not come here under worse authority.” 

~~ That night, when the palace grew quiet, and the sky dark, you found yourself back in Dream’s quarters, an overtired, overstressed George having wedged himself between you two and refusing to move. 

You sighed as Dream ran a hand through your sleeping partners hair, “He’s anxious.” 

“I mean, can you blame him? War may be on the horizon.” Dream murmured. 

“I meant even now- in the time of sleep. I think Sapnap is just adding fuel to the fire.” 

Dream sighed, “If he has another outburst like that-” 

“He’ll be cast out,” You nodded, “I know. He just needs to be willing to learn the way things go around here. In time he will learn.” 

Your boyfriend chuckled to himself, “Fucking hotshot.” 

“I think you’d like him, if you were able to spend more time with him.” You smiled. 

“Well someone had to go snatch him up as an apprentice!” 

“Well it was him or Ranboo, and Ranboo is far too- forgetful, for this sort of thing. I’d’ve had Tubbo but he and Tommy are a package set an you took ‘em.”

“What about Purpled?” 

You rolled your eyes, “He started an apprenticeship with Punz ages ago.” 

“SHHhhhhhhh, ‘m tryin’ to sleep.” George muttered, burying his face in your shoulder. 

In the darkness of the chamber you could barley make out Dream’s eyes sparkling as he took your hand, “Course love, course.” 

~~

As the weeks continued the damages on the northern boarder only seemed to grow, the new invaders claiming three of the villages there own. 

There was yet another large attack on the town that had been damaged the first time, this time a direct threat left etched on the walls, ‘You have made my people suffer, and now yours shall feel the same’

“Militia, both local and our own soldiers have taken it upon themselves to fight back, almost a hundred lived lost to each side.” The silence in the room grew deafening as Sam finished reading his report, not even Sapnap daring to speak. 

“Your Majesty?” Bad hazarded, “What is our next course of action?” 

George frowned, glancing around the room, “Peace is still the priority. Maybe- maybe we call a ceasefire, I could meet with there ruler-” 

“No,” Dream interrupted, drawing all eyes to him, “It would be too dangerous. How do we know they can be trusted to lay down there arms?” 

George shot him a look, “How do we know that we haven’t done anything to provoke them? Whatever we have done wrong we need to fix it. If we can work something out then people will be spared on both sides.” 

“Shall we arrange for a ceasefire?” Eret asked. 

The King nodded as Wilbur spoke up, “We could set up a meeting place, on neutral ground, possibly similar to the holy lands, so there would be no worry of a security breech.”

Dream seemed to relax at this, and then eyes were turned to you and Sapnap, representing the royal guard, “We can, but even so we should stay vigilant, perhaps send a group ahead with the runners to see too it.” You said, noting the gratitude on Dream’s face, as well as the slight annoyance on George’s. 

“Well I see no one better to attend to the King’s safety than you,” Bad said, “You shall go with the party, and Technoblade with you, Sapnap can remain here to take over your day to day duties.” 

The man in question quietly shot you a pleading look, at which you sighed, “With all do respect I think Sapnap could be better severing to the crown if he joined the running party.”

Bad glanced around to the others, looking for any objections before shrugging, “We can find someone else to do the work. So that’ll be you, Technoblade, Sapnap, and we can send the usual scouting party, and Sam shall go with again.” 

~~ The next morning found you suiting up and heading out to the stables to tack up your horse. Techno was already down there, idly chatting with Phil as he readied Carl for the journey, and out in the courtyard you could see Sapnap talking to two men. 

“Good morning, (y/n)!” Phil chirped, waving your direction. 

“Morning Phil.” You moved down the row, reaching out and letting Beckerson nuzzle into your palm. 

After getting your horse cared for and saddled, the rest of the party had headed out of the stables as your partners entered.

George took your hand, “Don’t start any more trouble.” 

“Sounds like your talking to Dream not me.” You chuckled. 

“Hey!” Dream protested. 

“I’m not wrong!” You teased. 

George rolled his eyes, quickly pulling you in for a kiss, “Make things good for me to be out there.” 

“Stay out of trouble.” Dream advised, pulling you away from George to kiss you himself. 

“You underestimate me.” You smirked, grabbing Bekerson’s reigns. 

Dream rolled his eyes as you started to lead the horse out of the stable, calling, “And stay safe!” 

“I’ll see you in five days!” You chuckled, heading out of the stables and quickly mounting your horse, kicking at his sides to catch up with the others.

~~ The last three days had been spent anxiously waiting, and now the journey to the norther board was coming to a close. 

Dream rode alongside the carriage, eyes following the strange trail of smoke on the horizon; something was wrong, he could feel it. 

The quiet, almost calm of the morning was slowly being cut through by a growing noise, and then finally shattered as one of the runners sent ahead to signal their arrival came crashing through the trees looking panicked. 

“What’s going on?” Punz asked.

“They attacked! They broke the ceasefire!” 

Dream’s brain surged with panic as he turned to where George and his advisors were starting to climb out of the carriage asking why they had stopped, “Turn around! It isn’t safe here! Go! Punz! Tommy! Ponk! Get them out of here!” 

Before he could even stop to see if they were following his orders he was rushing forward down the road, urging Spirit to go faster as the road widened into the village. 

Dream was met with nothing but chaos, the royal insignia’s on the tents set up in the field were aflame, and the clashing of swords filled his ears as the royal army and the few commoners who could fought back against the pillaging people. 

 “About time you showed up!” Sapnap yelled from halfway across the field, “We could use some fucking help!” 

“No shit!” Dream yelled back, dismounting and unsheathing his sword. 

Almost immediately another person came barley towards him, throwing him into combat. 

He cut his way across the field, taking down people here and there, still searching the carnage for you. 

Eventually he made it to where Sapnap had just disarmed and knocked out another opponent, “Where are they?” 

His eyes danced around the wreckage, “Could be anywhere, saw ‘em trying to get the townspeople out of the way.” 

Dream cursed, running off the direction of the village, calling you name. 

The fighting continued, the addition of the extra royal guardsmen helping turn the tide of the battle, though Dream still couldn’t locate you on the battle field.

As the remaining invaders began to retreat, and the royal troops beginning to recoop be demanded, “Has anyone seen (y/n)?!”

“Last I saw they were on the ridge sir.” Someone said.

Dream nodded, quickly turning to head the direction they had pointed as they all went back to collecting the villagers from there hiding places.

The little valley seemed all too quiet as Dream climbed toward the ridge, the sounds of another skirmish erupting into the air.

Taking off at a sprint he made it up the hill to find you locked in combat with another warrior.

You panted, throwing up you shield to block another strike from his axe before shoving forward and swing your sword at his spear wielding hand.

He wasn’t excepting this, and the spear clatter out of his hand, the shock on his face giving you enough momentum to keep pushing forward, throwing attack after attack at the man as he edged backward.

You had just managed to shove him to the ground when a cry broke your attention.

“(Y/N)!!”

You turned to see Dream, smiling, words starting to form on your lips as a spear suddenly drove through your chest.

“NO!!!!!” Dream shrieked, charging forward and quickly slashing at the mans throat before turning to where you had fallen in the grass.

“T-that one was your fault.” You mumbled as he did his best to pull your shaking body into his arms.

“I know,” tears flooded his eyes, “It’s gonna be okay, I’m gonna get help.”

You did your best to smile through your fear, “What would George say if he saw you here cuddling me without him? Huh?”

“(Y/n)....”

“Bad time for a joke I guess,” you shaky voice was disrupted by a painful cough wracking your body, “Never really planned on being ran through with a spear this morning.”

Dream had resolved to muteness, watching you life slip away and out of his grasp with a murmured, “I’m sorry.”

~~

“Your highness, news of the boarder war has returned.”

George looked up as Wilbur ushered a scarily calm Technoblade and an all too quiet Dream into the room, “What is it? Where’s (y/n)?”

“Their gone,” Dream sounded all too hollow, “Th- they aren’t coming back.”

George froze and Techno sighed, “I think I’m gonna leave you alone to sort this out. C’mon Wilbur.”

The doors closed slowly behind them as Dream moved closer to the throne, quietly pulling a distraught George into his arms.

“Th- they died in my arms. I- I couldn’t stop it.”

George wipped at silent tears, “We’re going to make them pay.”

A funeral was planned and attended, everyone leaving the King and his Knight space to breath as they remained standing by the grave.

“Tomorrow.” George said with finality, “Tomorrow we make them pay.”

Dream nodded, looking down at the copy of the note that had been sent to the enemy:

‘Holy water cannot stop me now, a thours and armies couldn’t keep me out. I don’t want your money, I don’t want your crown, see I’ve come to burn your kingdom down’

[butgilinsky]

incase you don’t live forever // rc

warning; ig it alludes to death, it’s fluffy until it’s angsty

summary; rafe loves y/n more than she’ll ever wrap her head around

word count; 2k+

based on incase you don’t live forever by ben platt

You put all your faith in my dreams You gave me the world that I wanted What did I do to deserve you?

“baby!” y/n looked over her shoulder, smiling widely and completely forgetting about the conversation she was previously immersed in when her eyes landed on a smiling rafe. 

he jogged the short distance over to her and wrapped his long arms around her waist, lifting her off of the ground and twirling her in the air. the girl squealed, but it only made rafe laugh and smile even brighter before he set her back down. 

“what’s got you so happy?” it wasn’t the rafe didn’t act like this around her, but it was something he often saved for less public occasions, and given their spot in the middle of a crowded beach, it shocked her slightly. 

“my dad agreed to let me sit it on his meetings this week. he also told me this morning that i get to go to the bahamas with him next week for that trip he has planned.” y/n’s smile almost reached her ears by the time rafe stopped talking. she had never seen rafe so excited about something so mundane, and it made her heart soar. 

“i’m so happy for you.” her voice was soft, but rafe heard every word spill from her lips. “i told you you could do it.”

he hugged her again, both of them smiling and laughing into each other. rafe was finally dipping his feet into the right pool, and was finding something worth his time. y/n always supported rafe’s dreams to implement himself in his father’s business, and now it seemed that it was all paying off. 

“we can go celebrate by stealing wine out of my mom’s cellar and taking the boat out.” y/n’s lips were pressed close to rafe’s ear, her voice sending a chill down his spine. 

“what did i do to deserve you?” he pressed his lips to her temple, careful not to make too much noise when he pulled away so she wouldn’t flinch at the sound. 

“you’re perfectly yourself, rafe cameron.”

I follow your steps with my feet I walk on the road that you started I need you to know that I heard you, every word

rafe trailed her, digging his feet into the footprints she left in the sand behind her. he stayed close behind, but gave her a bit of space as she wandered the shore’s edge. 

he held both of their shoes, one pair hanging from each of his hand while he watched the girl in front of him make irregular patterns in the sand with her feet.

rafe had lost track of how many topics she’d run through while she ranted about anything and everything. it started off with her mom dragging her to brunch again that morning, something she dreaded every sunday morning. now it was something about how her older sister was coming back to the island from college, and y/n would have to share the vodka stored away in the liquor cabinet. 

she spun around on the balls of her feet, stopping in place and crossing her arms over her chest as she pouted at the boy behind her. he laughed gently, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around her waist. 

“why are you pouting?” he kissed her lips, successfully getting her to suck in the lip that she had puffed out in a small pout. 

“did you even hear anything i just said?” he smiled widely at the girl, a warmth spreading through his chest as he pressed his lips against her forehead. 

“every word, princess.” 

In case you don't live forever, let me tell you now I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth I'm everything that I am because of you

he doesn’t remember a time where he wasn’t filled to the brim with love for the girl. the girl that would sneak him through her window when either of them were having a bad night. the girl that would stay on the phone with him all night long when insomnia kicked his ass, even if she had a final the next morning. 

the girl that would dance around her room in nothing but one of his shirts that was too big for her, holding the neck of a wine bottle and letting every melody flow through her body like she had made it herself. the girl that somehow fit in every bit of his life as if they were perfectly sculpted for one another. 

but above all else, the sight of her laying on top of him, even if it was just her head in his lap while he mindlessly played with her hair, was his favorite sight. she looked up at him, eyes locking with the blue pair that had been trained on her for an unknown amount of time. 

“you’re staring.” she whispered softly, but he just nodded. he did it often, and it came as a shock to nobody, but it still caught her off guard every single time. “what’s on your mind, cameron?” 

she sat up, moving into the boy’s lap like a dance she’d committed to muscle memory. his hands found her hips quickly, and her arms snaked over his shoulders while her hand threaded itself into the hair on the back of his head. 

“i love you more than you’ll ever wrap your head around.” she smiled widely at the confession, having heard the words drip from his tongue a few times before. the simple thread of words were something she never missed hearing rafe say before. 

“i’ll never love another person or thing as much as i love you, rafe cameron.” he let the smallest laugh pass his lips as he stared at the girl in his lap, not an ounce of worry or dread found within him in that moment. 

“I'm everything that I am because of you.” and it was true. 

she’d shown him that life is not all about being on top, or having people reassure you that you’re doing great. she showed him that he’d never get any reassurance in life from others until he found it within himself. she showed him how to be happy on his own, and in turn allowed himself to be happy alongside the girl of his dreams. 

I, I've carried this song in my mind Listen, it's echoing in me But I haven't helped you to hear it

“rafe, tell me what’s wrong.” she was confused, having watched the boy cry for the past hour without any indication of what had happened before he snuck through her window. 

“everything’s just piling up, y/n.” she sighed then. she knew rafe buried his problems and his feelings. he buried them so deep he convinced himself that he was truly okay. 

which only led these things to bubble over at some inevitable point, but y/n was always there to pick up the pieces. she held him, hand running up and down his back and thumb wiping away the tears on his cheeks. 

“you can’t keep burying these things, rafe. you have to talk to me.” he nodded into her chest, knowing that he simply had to get better at opening up about things. 

and he would do better. better for her and better for himself.

I've waited way too long to say Everything you mean to me

he couldn’t believe what life had handed him. he couldn’t thank the universe enough for the girl they had perfectly built for him. he couldn’t believe that she had slummed it with him for the past three years, but he wouldn’t have taken a second of it back. 

he couldn’t believe that life could take a complete 180 in mere hours. he couldn’t believe that one single moment of time, one bad decision, could bring him to this uncomfortable plastic chair, waiting for her name to ring through the waiting room. 

his leg was bouncing so quickly it had stressed out topper enough to ask him to calm down, more than once. but how was he supposed to calm down when he had no idea what was going to happen? 

had he waited too long? he knows he’d said ‘i love you’ enough times to last a lifetime, but he thought he’d be able to say it for a lifetime. he though that he’d have more time.

more time to tell her everything he loved about her. more time to watch her dance to songs even when her hips were affected by alcohol. time to hear her sing his favorite songs at an hour where they weren’t sure it was morning or nighttime anymore. 

time to hear her laugh, even if it was at how bad his joke was. time to watch her eyes light up when he brought her coffee after a long night. time to listen to her read poems to him that she found on the internet. he thought he had time.  I have a hero whenever I need one I just look up to you and I see one I'm a man 'cause you taught me to be one

he remembered the time his hands were shaking so bad that she had to tie his tie for him. he’d taught her how to do it one day after she begged him. 

“it’ll be cute! i can tie your ties before you go off to work in the morning. or, i can tie our son’s ties before graduations and parties that he doesn’t want to go to.” rafe was smiling at her, wondering if she realized the rant she had fallen into. 

“our son? you want to have kids, baby?” her cheeks tinted red as she realized what she had said. 

“yeah, i mean, uh- is that what you want?” he kissed her forehead and then her lips, smiling widely when their foreheads pressed together. 

“i want everything with you.” 

she tied the tie quickly now, her fingers working with the fabric as though she’d done this for years. her hands smoothed the lapels of his jacket before she grabbed his shoulders softly. 

“you’re going to be great, okay? just laugh at their awful jokes, and smile when you greet people. shake their hands firm enough to get a compliment on your grip, but not so much that they joke about you ripping their arm off.” rafe was nodding, taking in every bit of information that she offered him. 

“okay, i think i got it.” she smiled widely and kissed his lips. 

“you got this, baby. knock ‘em dead.”  In case you don't live forever, let me tell you now I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth I'm everything that I am

he cried when he saw her, needles in her arm and bandages wrapped around various parts of her body. her eyes were open, which only let him see how much pain she was in. to anybody else, it was nothing more than a tired or scared expression, but to rafe it was devastating. 

he didn’t know how he was ever meant to get in a car again. how he could sit behind the wheel and look out of the shield of glass in front of him without remembering what the love of his life had to go through. he didn’t know if he’d make it out of this.

her parents left the room when rafe walked in, leaving him with a hug from her mother and a clap on the back from her father. he pulled a chair up next to her bed and held her hand in his tightly. 

“i’ll be okay.” she whispered softly, trying to assure rafe that whatever was happening to her would end however it was meant to be. 

“what if i’m not?” he looked up at her, all confidence that he had previously washed away within seconds. 

“you’re going to be better than okay. whatever happens will happen, and you’ll live your life however you’re supposed to, okay?” she reached out to wipe away his tears, letting rafe see and feel how much her hand was shaking. 

“baby.” he spoke softly, leaning into her touch and filling her hand with fresh tears. 

“it’s going to be okay, rafe. i love you more than life itself, baby.” he choked out a sob at the words she picked out, the situation at hand playing into it all too well. “I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around.”

he smiled at the familiar words, though it didn’t make him cry any less. 

“I'm everything that I am because of you, y/n.”

In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth As long as I'm here as I am, so are you

-

you interpret the ending, bbies

[feed-your-neopets]

Valdemar x Devil!Lucio Fluff (One-shot)

Writer Preface:

First, I haven’t written fanfiction in years. Nor have I read a book recently. So, don’t feel bad about pointing out grammar mistakes or spelling mistakes. It’s been a while since I’ve done anything like this. Also, my knowledge of the science and medical world is pitiful. Please, let me know if I said something ridiculous.

Second, it is cannon that Lucio has a New Jersey accent. It may enhance the story to imagine him with it, because I did while writing this.

Third, this is just slow, awkward, fluffy Valdemar x Lucio stuff. I was trying to piece together how a relationship could even develop between them, and I love the challenge of unlikely, cursed pairings. I was thinking this would probably take place in Muriel’s route (so, smoll SPOILERS from this point on). I would think Lucio’s social circle would be dwindling since – ya know – he merged with the Devil and all. Lucio would definitely be longing for friendship and companionship. Valdemar will humor him if it means they get new things to study. Get that bag, Valdemar.

---

The salon was one of the few rooms left in the palace where one could find some peace. Ironic, as this room was once one of the livelier places in the palace. After all, the salon was where Countess Nadia would entertain her guests. Now, it was an echo of its former self.

Since his resurrection and merging with the boss, Count Lucio ran with a different crowd, and these new guests had a habit of “borrowing”. Not that Valdemar cared about the state of the rooms throughout the palace, nor the drunkards who sloppily paraded through the hallways with pockets full of silverware. However, the room was simply lacking. It was not quite the same without Countess Nadia’s fingers gliding across the ivory keys with precision and grace. Instead of the haunting melodies of a grand piano and the idle chatter of the other courtiers, the room was filled with the distant echoes of intoxicated partygoers reciting a rather impolite folk song about a sea captain’s cousin.

However, Valdemar was paying little attention to the commotion outside and quietly sipped their tea. They chose instead to focus on the decorating choices they felt were an improvement. For example, the dying flowers wilting in waterless vases were a nice touch. Additionally, the portrait that Count Lucio had commissioned in his mother’s likeness had some alterations. It was laying waste on the ground below where it was once proudly hung. The vandalism was done with such intention that Valdemar was certain the count had crossed out the eyes himself. Valdemar pondered if he had done so in a fit of rage. The count had such a temper, and judging from his interaction with his mother, there was a lot of emotional baggage to unpack. While the symbolism was a tad on the nose, Valdemar appreciated the irony none-the-less. It was Lucio who murdered his own mother. It was only fitting he should be the one to remove the light from her portrait’s eyes too.

Without much warning, the doors of the salon burst open with a bang; shaking the few portraits that still hung on the walls. Yet, Valdemar sat unflinching despite the abrupt entrance from the count.

“Alright, I’ll catch you guys later.” called Count Lucio to a chorus of guttural cheers and whooping from the end of the hall. Valdemar peered at the count from over their teacup as they took a long sip. They had been wondering what was taking the count so long. He had been the one who had requested a meeting with them. To keep them waiting seemed in poor taste.

“Crazy guys.” chucked Lucio to himself before turning his attention to Valdemar. “Hey, there you are! Where have you been? You weren’t at last night’s party. You missed Vulgora tackling several new recruits. You should have seen them go at it. We were taking bets and everything.”

“Hm.” hummed Valdemar as they peered into their teacup, finding more interest in the way the tea leaves settled to the bottom of their cup than Lucio’s story. However, Lucio did not seem to notice as he reenacted the punches and kicks of last night’s tussle; knocking over a chair in the process. “But hey, don’t worry about missing it. They’ll probably do it again tomorrow night. You’re gonna love it.”

“I am sure, my count.” lied Valdemar.

Lucio seemed convince Valdemar was genuine, and with an exaggerated groan, he slumped into the chair next to them. Valdemar watched as he adjusted the scabbard on his waist, the end of which clanked aggressively on the hardwood floor. His legs then spread out for maximum comfort as he sunk into his seat. It would seem he was finally situated, and he looked merrily back at Valdemar expecting them to speak first. The quaestor closed their eyes. Admittedly, their patience was wearing thin. With a short sigh, they placed their teacup on the table and prepared themselves to address the count.

“Is there a reason you have called me here today, my count?” asked Valdemar as politely as they could muster.

A spark of realization lit in Lucio’s eyes. “Oh, yeah, that’s right! I gotcha something.” said Lucio as he started rummaging through a small satchel. “I felt like we left it kinda weird at that old broad’s house, and I been wanting to make it up to you.”

“Old broad?” whispered Valdemar to themself as they searched their lexicon for a translation.

“Yeah, you remember. I gave you her heart. I was weird about it, but you were just asking for your payment.” explained the count. “It is nothing amazing, really. You probably have twenty of ‘em, but I was traveling through the market, and I saw it, and I thought - do you know who would like this? Quaestor Valdemar - so, I got it. No big deal, ya know?”

From his bag, Lucio pulled out an adult human skull. Embedded in the eye sockets were large rubies that burned in the orange glow of the setting sun. The count placed his gift in Valdemar’s hand, who made quick note of the condition in which the skull was in. In short, it was nearly perfect. The dental work was most fascinating to Valdemar. Not a single tooth was crooked or missing. No sign of disease or decay. Whoever extracted this specimen knew what they were doing. Valdemar was so transfixed by the skull, they almost forgot Lucio was still in the room.

“Yeah, I thought you like that.” said Lucio as he leaned forward in his chair. “I got that off a guy who was selling all kinds of wild, kooky stuff.”

Valdemar was quiet as they studied the skull. They were far more impressed by the specimen itself than the embellishments. Gemology was not at the top of their list of the most appealing subjects, and frankly, they thought the rubies were rather gaudy.

As they pondered the feasibility of extracting the gemstones without damaging the bone, a visibly nervous Lucio shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the silence between them.

“I -uh- I got it because the eyes remind me of your eyes.” said Lucio. As the words left his mouth, he instantly wished he had just swallowed them instead. He was not prepared for Valdemar's undivided attention. Their eyes were fixed on Lucio. Their expression was blank. Their entire form was eerily motionless. He immediately felt the need to elaborate. “Ya know, because the rubies are pretty - pretty like your eyes.”

To Lucio’s relief, the compliment was enough to break their stare. No one had ever called their eyes pretty before. Creepy. Unsettling. Unnatural. But never pretty. Pretty was a meaningless word. Pretty was objective. Pretty could not be measured. Pretty was unscientific. Yet, the word bounced around in their mind, unextrapolated and uncategorized. Valdemar wanted to dissect its meaning. They wanted Lucio to elaborate. What did it mean to have pretty eyes?

"Hey, is that thing broken?" asked Lucio. who had unknowingly grounded Valdemar from their slow spiral into the definition and interpretation of the word pretty.

"Pardon?" asked Valdemar.

"Did that bastard give me a busted skull?" asked Lucio gesturing to a fissure starting from the bottom of the eye socket across the cheekbone.

Realizing what the count was referring to Valdemar had to stifle a laugh. "No, that is a zygomaticomaxillary suture. You'll notice the second one, right here." They turned the skull to allow Lucio to see the other fissure reflected on the other cheekbone.

"Oh, so it's okay then? It's not broken?" asked Lucio.

"This specimen is in excellent condition." reassured Valdemar. A moment passed between them before the quaestor softly cleared their throat, and managed a polite thank you to the count. They fully intended to investigate the skull further for any clues of what may have lead to the specimen’s demise. They loved a good mystery. Afterwords, it would look lovely in their display cabinet - pretty ruby eyes and all.

“Right, so that guy I got this skull from. He has other things too. Goopy things in jars. Dead things in jars. Dead things out of jars. Drawings of bones and meaty parts. Books. Does any of that sound interesting to you?” asked Lucio.

Valdemar considered Lucio’s offer before replying, “I suppose that I am always in search for new specimens to add to my collection. Additionally, this could be an opportunity to ask the merchant where the rest of the remain’s of this specimen can be found.”

Their response seemed to greatly please the count as he leaned back in his chair. For the past few nights, he had done nothing but party - which he loved to do, and would surely want to do again - but sitting with Valdemar, as the sun lowered into the horizon felt nice. Not to mention, they knew a lot, which Lucio appreciated. Having them around could be quite helpful to keeping his kingdom. Additionally, he was curious as to what was under their bandages. His money was on horns, but it would be fun to confirm his suspicions.

“Great, I’ll take you down there sometime.” said Lucio. “And, if you see anything you like, consider it yours.”

While material possessions never interested Valdemar, the idea of discovering something new was quite alluring. Perhaps, the merchant had a sealed jar of an entirely forgotten disease, or maybe they would uncover an ancient tomb that described a real account of an unsolved death of an entire village. The more they thought about it, the more exciting the prospect became.

“Would now be an appropriate time?” asked Valdemar who had moved to the edge of their seat. Their body was stiff with anticipation, as they leaned over ever so slightly towards him. A coy smile spread on Lucio’s face. He knew the moment he agreed, Valdemar would be sprinting for the door. Frankly, it seemed cruel to make them wait another moment for his answer.

“I’ll have someone fetch two cloaks and a carriage.”

END.

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Forty-Nine

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, and a wee bit of Angst. 

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

“Morning, Harry.” Isaac smiles at Harry as he walks in.

“Mornin’.” He says going right to his office. He was extremely groggy. He barely got any sleep thinking about a future with you. He was just too excited at the thought of you someday being the mother of his children.

“Have a good weekend?”

“Mm.” He says, not really being awake enough to talk yet.

He goes into his office and sits down. His phone buzzes, a notification from Instagram. You had posted some pictures from Saturday. He smiles when he swipes to see the picture of the two of you, and then some from the photo booth. You also added a funny one of you and Niall, and a decent picture of the four of you. He double taps to like it, and sets his phone aside. Julia knocks on his door.

“Hi Harry.”

“Hi.”

“Doing the coffee rounds.”

“Julia.” He sighs. “I ask for the same thing every mornin’, do ya think we could skip this part and just go straight to when you actually give me the coffee from now on?”

“Um…sure, Harry, I could do that.”

“I’d really appreciate it.”

She smiles and leaves. He knew she looked forward to that first interaction every day, but he just needed the time to settle in without being interrupted. He grabs a camera and head down to the set up he’d be working with for the day. Mariah joins him a couple minutes later. They chat about the weekend and he shows her the pictures you posted. Julia comes over with their coffees.

“Ah, thanks, love.” Harry says without really thinking about it, taking a sip of his coffee. Her face heats up.

“You’re welcome.” She smiles at him.

“Right, well, have fun with Myk today.”

She turns and leaves them alone. Later when he feel puckish for a snack he bumps into Paige in the breakroom.

“Hey, H.” She says.

“Hi Paige, good weekend?”

“Yeah it was alright, went by way too fast.”

“Agreed.” He grabs a protein bar from a cabinet. “How are things with Dana?”

“Really good actually, she’s a fast learner. It’s been nice having some help, I’ve been able to get a lot more work done since I’ve been letting her handle some more of the mundane tasks. Thanks again for telling Ryan to have her work with me.”

“So you haven’t been annoyed at all?”

“I was at first, but once I realized that she was actually helping I was totally over it.” She smiles.

“Good, glad I could help.” He smiles back.

Harry’s day is easy for the most part. No one really interrupted him which he greatly appreciated. There were a fuck ton of pictures and shots he needed to take. He was exhausted by the time he needed to leave to meet Niall.

“Have a good evening, H.” Isaac says as he leaves.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Always have such a bright smile on your face? I have to say it always helps me leave here with a good mood.” Harry smiles at him and leaves.

“Oh my god.” Isaac says to himself, feeling slightly flustered.

//

Harry meets Niall at the storage unit, and they take a couple of trips bringing things back and forth. After work you went home to pack up a bunch of things. You also wanted to make dinner for Harry since you knew he’d be hungry after doing so much heavy lifting. When he got home he was sweaty and tired. He took his shirt off the second he was able to hang his coat up. He was desperate for a shower, and you.

You were bent over cleaning something up off the floor, tears streaming down your cheeks. Harry rushes over to you, and you stand up.

“Hi.” You sniffle, and then look at him surprised. “Where’s your shirt?”

“I just took it off, what happened?”

“I was taking dinner out of the oven and I burnt myself and then I dropped everything on the floor. I feel really bad because I know you did a ton of work tonight and I just wanted to have a nice dinner made for you.” You wipe your eyes.

“Where’d you get burnt, babe.”

“My wrist, look.” You hold your wrist out to him. He leads you over to the sink and runs a paper towel under some warm water. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“It’s better to run a burn under warm water, cold water will make it scar.” He dabs your wrist with the paper towel and you wince, but relax at the way he touches you. “I’m sorry this happened.”

“I just finished cleaning everything up. I’ll have to dive into our frozen meals, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, love.” He continues to press the paper towel to your wrist. He removes it and brings your wrist up to his mouth for a kiss. “There, all better.” He kisses the top of your head. “A frozen meal is just fine, do ya mind poppin that pizza we got in the oven? I’m desperate for a shower. I probably smell like a goat.” You giggle.

“You smell just fine, and yeah I can make that for us.”

“Thanks.”

He goes into the bathroom and gets in the shower. He stands there for a while just letting the warm water cascade over him. You pop the pizza into the oven, and go sit on the couch with your laptop. You wanted to start your first assignment for class. You had to read a few chapters out of your book and then post in a forum. You had two different high lighters out so you could color code. Harry comes out in just a pair of boxers, his hair still damp. He sits down next to you. You had the TV on while you were reading and high lighting. He watched as your lips mouthed the words you were reading.

“How can you concentrate with the TV on?”

“Hm?” You look at him. “I don’t know, I need the background noise. I usually have the TV on or listen to music while I do my homework. Are you one of those people that need it silent?”

“No, I used to listen to music, just couldn’t read with the TV on.”

“Well, I already read what questions she wants answered in the forum, so I’m just skimming for quotes.”

“Cheatin’ the system a bit?” He smirks.

“I learned a long time ago, it’s all about learning how the teacher teaches. I’m taking in all of the content, but I also know how to play the game. I’m not going to put in a crazy amount of effort if I don’t need to.”

“What happened to givin’ your all?”

“I still am.” You shrug. “I still fully intend to get an A, I’m just doing it the way I know how.”

“How come you have two high lighters?”

“I code while I read, it helps me remember things when I go back to study later.”

“What-“

“Harry.” You sigh. “TV is one thing, but you talking isn’t really helping me read.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I can go into the bedroom if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. Do your readin’ here.” He smiles.

You get back to it and find what you need for quotes. You grab your laptop and open up a word document. You had a word limit you needed to hit and you wanted to hit it well. Harry steals glances of you. You looked so concentrated. He couldn’t believe how fast you were typing away while you answered your questions. The timer went off on the oven, so he got up to take it out. He let it cool for a few minutes and then sliced it up. He brought two pieces on a plate over for you and set it on the coffee table. You copied everything from the document into the forum and posted.

“Finally.” You sigh and grab the pizza. “In a couple days I have to respond two people, and then I’ll be done for the week.”

“Seems tedious.”

“Very, but it’s easy so I’m not complaining.”

“What’s this class about?”

“It’s a philosophy, ethics, and education course. I think I want to teach at a collegiate level someday so getting an MEd is the route I think I’m going to take.”

“Hm, Professor Y/L/N, I like the sound of that.”

“Me too, I especially like the way it sounds coming from you.” You give him a peck on the cheek and dive into your pizza.

“I don’t think I’d survive one of your classes.”

“Why’s that?”

“The combination of how strict you’d probably be with how sexy you’d look teachin’ would just be disastrous. I’d probably have to come to your office for extra help, and then who knows what would happen?” You shake your head at him.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s true! I wonder what options you’d give me for extra credit.”

“Who says you’d even take one of my classes?” You get up and put both of your plates in the sink. He follows you around.

“If I saw you on campus, I’d sign up for any class you’d be teachin’.”

“That’s only because you know me.”

“Not true.”

“Are you saying there was a hot professor at your school that you took every class with?”

“God no, I don’t think I had a single young, hot professor.” He laughs. “I typically stuck with the grad assistants.” You roll your eyes at him. “Kidding! Yikes, lighten up.” He smirks.

“Harry, I would literally not be surprised to find out if you fucked every single woman at both of your universities.”

“Not all of ‘em, didn’t fuck anyone that had a boyfriend.”

“My, how considerate of you.” You say sarcastically.

“What about me? If I were a professor at your university, would you have had a crush on me?”

“Harry, I think in any universe I would have a crush on you.” His cheeks heat up. He wasn’t expecting such an honest answer. You walk away from him and plop back down on the couch.

“Don’t get too comfy, c’mon.” You turn your head up to look at him.

“What?”

“Bedroom, let’s go.” You cross your arms and turn your attention back to the TV. “Y/N.”

“Aren’t you too tired?”

“Caught a second wind. Nothin’ on the TV is more important right now.”

“Says you.” You point to the TV. “The Bachelor is just about to start.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Harry, the season of The Bachelor starts tonight, and I’d like to watch.” He comes over to sit next to you.

“Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“No, and in fact…” Your phone goes off, you have a FaceTime request from Niall. Your face lights up as you answer. “Hey!”

“Tell me you’re watchin’!”

“Yes! And you’re friend here doesn’t seem to understand the importance.”

“Next Monday we are gettin’ together to watch, just like last season.”

“Yes! Please, I need you here. Can you believe they went with Peter over Mike?”

“I’m still not over it.” Harry bends over and puts his face in his hands.

“I cannot fucking believe this.”

“You can either sit and watch or go to another room. This is my guilty pleasure and I’m allowed to have it.”

“Can’t you just record it?”

“And be spoiled by all the people on Twitter, I don’t think so.”

“What else is so important?” Niall asks. You give him a telling look and he starts laughing. “Keep it in your pants mate!”

“That seems to be how it’s going to be this evening.”

You and Niall decide to just text each other during the episode so Harry is slightly less annoyed. He grabbed his laptop and put his headphones in so he didn’t have to fully watch. He’d glance up at you when he’d hear you gasp or start laughing hysterically.

“What a dumb bitch!”

“Oh god, I really don’t like any of these girls.”

“Peter! You’re horny stop!”

Harry took his headphones off when he heard you say that. He looks at the screen and sees two people heavily making out.

“What in the fuck are you actually watching?”

“This is how The Bachelor is! This guy last season, he fucked this girl four times! Four times! He just wants to bone, I don’t know if he’s ready for marriage, I just don’t see it.”

“How long is this?”

“Usually it’s two hours, but because it’s the premiere, it’s three hours tonight. It’s live.”

“Three hours?!”

“You don’t have to stay up the whole time with me if you don’t want, babe.” It was already 9:30.

“No, I…”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna go to bed at a different time than you.” You turn to look at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think it’s good when couple’s go to bed at different times. Like, I could already be asleep when you come to bed. Then we wouldn’t really be able to enjoy a cuddle. What’s the fun in that?”

“My parents never went to bed at the same time, it’s a perfectly normal thing.”

“Yeah? Look at how well that turned out.” Both of your eyebrows raise in a snap, and you pause the TV.

“What the fuck did you just say to me? Are you telling me that because my parents didn’t go to bed at the same time that that’s why they aren’t together?”

“No, that’s not what I meant…that came out wrong.”

“Don’t know how else you could’ve meant it Harry.” You hit play on the TV and turn your attention back to it. “Maybe you should go to bed now.”

“Can’t go to bed with you mad at me.” You sigh heavily.

“Not mad.”

“Yeah you are, I just pissed ya off. I’m sorry, I-“

“I can’t fucking hear the TV! Please, I just want to watch this!”

“It’d a fuckin’ reality show! Fuck!” He slams his laptop shut and stands up. “Don’t worry I’ll leave you and Niall to you’re textin’.”

“Good, it’s all I wanted, thanks.” You say snappily.

“You know, you didn’t even say thanks for all the shit I had to do after work today.” He crosses his arms. You pause the TV again.

“Yes I did. I tried cooking you dinner, and then I fucked it up. I appreciate everything you did this evening, okay? Would you like a cookie to go along with the thank you? Perhaps another prize of some kind?”

“Note to self, never bother you again when this stupid fuckin’ show is on or else I’ll get bitched out.” He huffs.

“You literally just threw my parent’s separation in my fucking face because I want to stay up late! You’re being psychotic Harry, it’s one night that I’m not going to go to bed with you at the same time, fuck, you’re such a baby sometimes!”

What was happening right now? He knew he shouldn’t have said that, but now you were cutting deep.

“Psychotic? A baby?”

“Yup and yup. Did you ever stop to think maybe I had a stressful day, and maybe I was looking forward to watching my stupid fuckin’ show all day? I’m sorry, Harry, but you’re wrong. Now leave me alone.”

“I’m not bein’ psychotic.” He pouts. 

“Oh my god!” You stand up and turn the TV off. You whip the remote on the couch and stomp off to the bedroom.

“What are you doin’?” He follows you to the bedroom.

“This is what you wanted right? I’m going to bed with you. I’ll just watch the rest during my lunch break tomorrow. Now I have to text Niall not to tell me who Peter’s sending home.” You were texting him furiously. You go into the bathroom and slam the door shut. You come back out after finish your routine and get into the bed.

“Now you’re going to bed upset with me.” He says sitting up in the bed.

“I can’t fucking win with you tonight!” You feel tears prick at your eyes. “Do you want me to go to sleep with you or not?!”

“I wanted to have sex earlier and you wanted to watch TV instead.” You grab the pillow behind you and scream into it, then set it back behind you.

“Harry, I didn’t feel like it.” His mouth forms into a straight line. He really couldn’t comprehend it.

“Because you wanted to watch another guy make out with over twenty women?” You pinch the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You sigh heavily again. “You’re exhausting, you really are. I’m here, in the bed with you, just like how you wanted.”

“S’not how I wanted.” You blink at him, and turn over. You grab your earbuds and plug them into your phone and put them in your ears. “What are you doin’?”

You don’t say anything, you put on one of your playlists, and start scrolling on your phone.

“Hello? Really, the silent treatment over something so stupid?”

You feel tears roll down your cheeks. You hear him groan and he turns the light off. He stays sitting up in bed with his arms crossed. He could faintly hear your music, but couldn’t quite make it out. He was acting like a baby. He was exhausted and you had denied him. He wanted attention, and you didn’t give it to him. He was wrong to have said that about your parents, but you’re not the only one to have parents that were split up. Although something tells Harry he grew up in a much happier home than you did. Great, now he feels terrible. He hears you sniffle. Fuck. He made you cry.

“Babe?” He places a hand on your hip.

“Go to bed, Harry.”

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” You switch your phone to your Hulu app so you can keep watching the show.

You went to bed with Harry, but he didn’t get his proper cuddle. He knew it was his fault. You fell asleep with your headphones in, and woke up with them tangled around you. You put them and your phone on your night table. It was around four in the morning. Harry was asleep facing you. You turn to face him. You felt bad about getting so worked up earlier in the night. You lightly brush his cheek with your hand, and snuggle up next to him.

You rest your forehead against his chest, and your hand on his hip. You feel his arm drape over you. You put one of your legs over his, and he moves his leg between yours.

“Hi.” He says opening his eyes.

“Hi…I hope you don’t think I think a TV show is more important than you.”

“No…I’m sorry about all of it. I shouldn’t have said that about your parents.”

“It’s alright.” You snuggle into him further.

“I know I can be kind of…needy sometimes. And I was bein’ cranky from just bein’ tired.”

“But I like how you are, I like when you want me. You’re so cute.”

“You called me a baby…” He pouts.

“I did…it’s not a lie, you are a baby, but you’re my baby.” You sigh into him. You feel him chuckle against you.

“Just don’t say it in such a mean way again.”

“Okay.”

He moves his hand and tilts your chin up so you look at him. You close your eyes and kiss him. He pulls you closer and deepens the kiss. You roll your hips against his thigh and groan into his mouth.

“Harry, please make love to me.” You whisper.

“Won’t you be too tired for work later?”

“Don’t care.”

You roll over onto your back and pull him with you. He kisses you again, and nips at your jaw and neck. He plants wet kisses on you while his hand roams between your legs. He rubs up and down your slit, getting you nice and wet. He pushes your legs apart as you give his hard cock a few quick pumps. You guide him in and he pushes inside. Your hands reach for his so you can intertwine your fingers. He rests them up above your head on either side your pillow. He slowly pumps in and out of you, and you wrap your legs around his waist. His thrusts were so and sloppy, and you were incredibly turned on. His head is buried in the crook of your neck.

“I hate when we fight.” You say into his year.

“Me too.”

“I love you so much, Harry.”

“I love you too. I’m sorry I was an asshole.” He grits is teeth when you start to move your hips along with his rhythm.

“I’m sorry I acted like a brat.”

He presses up hard into you, and stops moving so you can just grind back and forth on him. You squeeze your hands tightly on his as you feel your stomach start to tighten.

“Ah, fuck, Harry, Harry, shit!” Your release comes and he presses harder into you as you ride it out. You were full on panting. You tighten around him to hold on to your orgasm as long as you can.

“You like when I do that?”

“Yes, feels so good. Love the way I can really feel how hard you are.”

He bites down on your neck and your back arches. His hands tighten around yours as he thrusts in and out of you, chasing his own release. Every moan and groan that leaves his lips and goes into your year sends you. You feel your legs start to shake, and you come at the same time as him. He collapses on top of you and lets go of your hands. You go right for his hair and play with. He slowly pulls out of you and moves to lay on his side facing you. It was around 4:45 in the morning. You sigh and decide to just get up and shower. He grabs onto your hips and you giggle as he pulls your back to his chest.

“I need to pee.”

“Just stay and cuddle a minute, I didn’t go down on ya so you don’t need to be paranoid like ya usually are.” He nuzzles into your hair.

“Alright.” You feel your eyes flutter closed, but they soon open back up when you hear your alarm go off. You get up and turn it off. You groan as you shuffle into the bathroom to take a shower.

You were just washing your hair when you heard the door click open and the curtain shuffle open. Harry steps into the shower as you scrub the rest of the shampoo out of your hair. He waits for you to finish and you step aside to let him step into the water. He looks up at the shower head.

“Ever use tha’ before?” His voice was still raspy from the sleep and the sex. It was so sexy.

“Use what babe?”

“The shower head?” You blink at him, confused.

“You just saw me use it to wash my hair.”

“Not there, there.” He points to your crotch and your cheeks flush.

“Harry, I do not have time for this, I-“

“Just answer the question.”

“No I have not used my showerhead on to get off.”

“Would you like to?”

“Harry, out of all the time we’ve taken a shower together, why are you doing this now? I don’t want to rush to work?”

“It’s not even six yet, you have plenty of time.”

“But, I’ll need to blow dry my hair, and-“

“You didn’t answer my question.” He crosses his arms.

“Would I like to use it to get off? No, not really. Why are you offering to do it for me?” He grins at you and nods. “You just got me off, I’m good for the morning.”

“Good for the mornin’?” He chuckles. “You’re funny. C’mere.”

“Harry…”

“If you’re late to work I give you full permission to be mad at me all day and I won’t make a fuss of it, now.” He grabs your shoulders and moves you. He takes the shower head down and moves towards you.

You nearly ripped the shower curtain off the rod as you had one of the most intense orgasms ever. You thought using a showerhead was only something that worked in movies or porn. The way Harry maneuvered it was astounding. You got out of the shower and left him in there to do his thing. You put a simple outfit together, and started to dry your hair just as Harry was getting out of the shower. He punched your bum as he walked into the bedroom. He went into the kitchen to make a smoothie for the both of you. You end up only partially drying your hair. You braid back some of it and get it all in a ponytail. You put on some make up quickly and walk quickly into the kitchen. You smile when you see the smoothie.

“Mm, thank you.” You say as you take a sip. Harry wraps his arms around you and kisses you tenderly. “I really need to go. It’s my day to get coffee.”

“When did this little tradition of your start?”

“Pretty much when I first started. We both realized we were going to the same coffee shop, so we just started taking turns.” You shrug. You kiss him one more time.

“Do ya ever wanna play hooky?”

“Oh no, no, no.” You step away from him. “You’ve had enough influence over me today. I’m saving my vacation days for the move, remember? Another ten days and we’ll have a whole week off together in our new place.” You grab your smoothie and keys. “I’ll be home late, therapy session today.”

“Alright, have a good day, love you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

//

You get to work on time, somehow, and give Niall his coffee. He pulls you into his office quickly.

“What?”

“Your neck! Did you forget a scarf?” Your eyes grow wide and you take out your phone to look. You clamp your hand over the spot.

“Shit! I didn’t even notice. It happened really early this morning.”

“I have one you can wear, but it might look goofy.”

“I’ll try it. I don’t even have makeup with me to cover it up.” You groan. “Maybe I am getting too old for this.” He chuckles and hands you the scarf he wears with his jacket.

“Thanks, this’ll work fine.” You wrap it around your neck.

“Early mornin’ romp?” He smirks.

“Maybe.” You giggle. “We had a little fight last night, and we went to bed upset.”

“Oh yeah, you mentioned that when ya texted me. Did you see the rest of the episode?”

“Yes! So dramatic.”

“As always.”

“I was texting the girls too. We should all get together to watch it.”

“Great idea! Everyone can come to my place Monday.”

“I can’t wait to move and have a few days off to unpack.”

“You know if you need a couple days to work from home this week, I’m sure that would be fine. You’ve got a lot goin’ on with the move, class, and Harry’s birthday this weekend. Where are ya takin’ him again?”

“To where we went on our first date.”

“Oh my god, he’s gonne die.”

“I know! I can’t wait to take him out.”

//

Harry was sitting in a staff meeting, trying his hardest not to fall asleep. It’s not that he was bored, he was just genuinely tired.

“H, you could look a little more interested, you know?” His supervisor Christin says.

“Hm? Sorry, I had a long night.”

“Well perk up. You could at least act to be happy that we’re sending you down to Florida in the middle of winter.”

“I’m sorry what? I…I thought I wasn’t travelin’ much anymore.”

“Sorry, H, but I need you on this one. The assignment’s in the folder I handed out.” He looks around to everyone.

“When do I leave?” He sighs.

“In two weeks.”

“See, the thing is, I’m in the middle of movin’, and I had some vacation time put in-“

“We’re giving it back to you, and you can use it at another time.”

“Is there any particular reason I can’t go, and Harry can stay here?” Mariah asks.

“I need you hear on another assignment.”

“But, Harry really doesn’t want to travel. Him and his girlfriend-“

“Mariah, I don’t need to know about Harry’s personal life, neither does anyone else in this room. Harry, I know it’s not ideal, but I need you on this.”

“How long am I gone for?”

“About a week.” His heart sinks into his stomach. He just wanted to have the time off with you. And the thought of you spending the first night in your new place alone crushed him. He thought he was going to be sick. Everyone could see it on his face, except Christin.

“Okay.” He says looking down.

“H, listen, you’re going to be in Florida, try to perk up, hm?”

“Yeah.” He was biting the inside of his cheek, he needed to get out of there.

After the meeting he went right to his office and looked over the full assignment. He was actually going to be taking pictures of some really cool vegetation, the timing was just terrible. He wondered if he could ask to bring you with him, but he was sure that wouldn’t go over well. He could always pay for a plane ticket for you. He was so frustrated. He put his face in his hands at he started crying. Isaac noticed what was happening and made a call.

//

“Hi Trish, what’s up?”

“There’s a man on the phone for you from Plant Geo, his name is Isaac, do you want me to transfer him?” You’re slightly confused, and a little concerned.

“Um, yeah.” You wait a moment for the transfer to go through. “Hello?”

“Hi…Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Isaac, I work reception at Plant Geo.”

“Yes, I know. Is everything okay?”

“I think Harry could use you. He just got an assignment and he’s not taking it well.”

“Oh no! What kind of assignment?”

“I think they’re making him travel somewhere. He’s, um, crying.”

“Oh god, okay…um…I’m there. Thank you. How did you find my office number?”

“He’s mentioned where you worked before, just tried my luck with Google.”

You hang up and run down to Niall’s office.

“I’m taking an early lunch, something came up.”

“Everythin’ alright?”

“I’m not sure yet, I’ll keep you updated.”

You sprint down to your car and speed over to Harry’s studio. You get there in about twenty minutes. Harry had calmed down a little, but his eyes were red and puffy as he began working. Everyone knew to leave him alone. You park and get up the elevator. You wave to Isaac as you go right for Harry’s office. You don’t knock you just go right in.

“Oi, it’s polite to knock.” He looks over at you, and his face completely changes.

“Sorry ‘bout that Mr. Styles, I won’t do it again.” You give him a small smile. “What’s wrong baby?” You sit on his desk.

“How did you? I’m so confused.”

“Isaac called me at work, he said you were upset.” Harry looks over in Isaac’s direction.

“Tattle tale.” He sighs and looks at you. “I have to go to Florida the same week we were supposed to have off together.” He starts sniffling. “And I’m upset because I can’t stand the thought of you there all by yourself when we were supposed to be unpackin’ together.” He buries his head in your stomach and you stroke his hair.

“Harry, honey, it’s okay. I understand.” You try to soothe him as best you can. “You don’t need to feel bad. Maybe I can fly down too, what part of Florida are you going to?”

“Um.” He lifts his head and looks at the papers in the folder. “Near Port St. Lucie, I’ll be near the manatee habitat.”

“Hmm, on the east coast. Well, I could fly down and spend a few days with Nannie, and then I could come meet you or you could come to us.”

“But what about us unpacking and gettin’ everything together?”

“Harry, we can still fully move in when we planned to. And I don’t mind unpacking a bit without you.”

“But…I’ll miss our first night together there.”

“I’ll leave for Florida when you do.” You shrug.

“But the last minute ticket will be really expensive.”

“I can afford it. I have the time off already anyways, and getting out of the cold sounds nice. It’s nothing to be upset over.” You run your thumbs over his cheeks to wipe his tears away.

“You don’t mind that things are gettin’ a little messed up?”

“It’s not ideal timing, but I’ll take any excuse to go visit my grandmother.”

“Where’s she again?”

“On the west coast, in North Port. Only a couple hours from where you’ll be.”

He stands up and wraps his arms around you. You hug him close to you and just stand there hugging.

“You’re amazing, thank you for being so flexible.”

“Of course.” You kiss him on the cheek. “Don’t get mad at Isaac, I’m glad he called.”

“I would’ve just come to see you in a couple hours.”

“Yeah, but you would’ve been upset for that much longer.”

Christin comes walking over to Harry’s office.

“What the hell is going on?” You whip your head around to look at the woman.

“Christin, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Didn’t realize it was social hour.” She crosses her arms.

“Sorry, it was my fault, um, I grabbed something of his by accident this morning and I needed to drop it off.” You smile at her. “I’ll see you tonight, Harry.” You give his hand a squeeze and leave his office. You nod at Isaac on your way out.

“Heard she’s been coming around here a lot.”

“Only on lunch breaks, and it’s been like two times.” He crosses his arms at well. “Did you need somethin’?”

“We need to go over Florida.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I’m going too.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m your supervisor and I’m supervising the assignment.”

“Are your kids comin’ too?”

“I’m going to have my husband take the girls to Orlando and I plan to meet them there later on.”

“How nice for you.”

“Harry, if you hate it here so much, why don’t you quit?”

“I don’t hate it here, I just hate travelin’.”

“You used to love it.”

“People change, I don’t like it anymore.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Nothing specific.” He shrugs. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine, this is just a sort of stressful time. You could act a little more sympathetic ya know. There is such a thing as work-life balance.”

“You’re right, I didn’t mean to be insensitive. As long as I’ve known you, you never really had someone in your life you seemed to care about so much…I didn’t realize how serious this was.”

“I don’t exactly go around spilling my nonsense around. Her grandmother lives in Florida, she’s going to try to find a flight to go down there too and then we’re going to meet up.”

“That’ll be nice.”

//

“Well at least they’re not makin’ him go this weekend.” Niall says, diving into his lunch.

“I know…he was acting like it was the end of world. It’s really not a big deal.”

“He probably just felt like he was lettin’ ya down. It’s good you were able to get over there,”

“His supervisor wasn’t thrilled to see me.”

“Christin can be kind of shrill…I think she forgets what it’s like to be young sometimes.”

“She didn’t seem that much older.”

“She’s like thirty-five.”

“Ah.”

“Do you think you’ll need some extra vacation time?”

“Depends on the flights I’m able to book. I’m secretly kind of happy, I can’t wait to call Nannie to tell her.”

“She’s gonna be so happy to see you. So when will you guys actually move?”

“The plan was to be fully out of my place by next weekend, and then spend the week unpacking. He was really torn up about me sleeping there alone.” Niall’s face falls.

“That wouldn’t upset you?”

“Well, it’s not ideal, but it is what it is. He and I will be able to unpack and set up pretty easily since all of the boxes are clearly labeled.”

“Was your family plannin’ to help too?”

“My brother is coming with his truck, and my mom said she could help unpack the kitchen, so I’m really not worried about it. Just need to book flights now. Hopefully it won’t be too expensive with it being sort of last minute.”

“I have plenty of miles built up if-“

“Save them, please. Very kind of you though.” You smile at him. You sigh. “Do you think Harry will ever just freelance full time like Louis does?”

“No idea. I know he wants to do it eventually, but there’s so much uncertainty. His busy seasons are great, but when it’s slow, it’s slow. He’d have to do a lot to really keep the business goin’, he’d have to lease a studio space.”

“Our loft could easily be set up as a home studio.”

“Yeah, maybe for small projects, but do you really want a ton of strangers comin’ in and out?”

“Good point.”

“Real-estate isn’t cheap in this area. He’d need to put together a whole business plan, not that he doesn’t know how to do that.”

“He just seems to no enjoy his work.”

“He enjoys the work, just not the people.”

“It sucks how the people you work with can make you hate what you’re passionate about. It shouldn’t be that way. You and I are so lucky we have each other.”

“Grateful for it every day.”

//

You can’t wait to get home to Harry after your appointment with Dr. Mara. It was a great session. When you walk in, Harry was packing boxes according to your very specific list.

“Hi baby.” He turns around to look at you.

“Hey.” He comes over and wraps his arms around you.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah, thanks.” He kisses your cheek. “He was Dr. Mara?”

“Good! She says hi.” You giggle and let go of him. “What do you feel like eating tonight?” You ask, walking into the kitchen. He follows you and sits at the island. “Well? I’ll make whatever you want.”

“Really only one thing I’d like to eat right now.” He rests his chin on his palm.

“Okay, well if it’s takeout that’s fine. I can pick up whatever.” You weren’t picking up on what he was putting down. He sighs. “What?”

“Babe.” He gives you his bedroom eyes and your face flushes immediately.

“Oh!” You look at him and then the fridge. “Okay, but I’m legitimately hungry…”

“We can have food after.”

“Okay.” He perks up. “Where do you want me?”

“Take your pants off and go lay on the sofa.”

You do as he says. He comes over to you, and just admire your body. His thumbs spread you apart, and your hips buck up when you first feel his tongue on you. You felt bad, you should be the one tasting him, but he wanted to forget about everything and get lost in you. You feel yourself get even more turned on when you hear him groan against you. His tongue licks a flat stipe up your center, and then he lick up into you. Your hands grasp at his hair.

“Fuck.” You gasp as he swirls his tongue around inside you.

His thumb moves up to your clit and rubs slow circles on it. He was taking his time with you. That was the thing about Harry, he knew how to get you off quick, and he knew how to move at an agonizingly slow pace to get you there just the same. This was one of those time where he just wanted to savor every last bit of you. You looked down to see him nose deep, and totally in another state of mind. He pressed harder on your clit as he rubbed on it and you started to grind against his tongue.

“Feels so good babe.” You moan, throwing your head back. His free hand presses down on your stomach adding to the pressure of it all. “Harry.” You start panting his name. “Harry.” It’s music to his ears. If he could hear one sound for the rest of his life, it would be this. “Harry!”

Everything goes white for a moment, and stars come into your vision. He doesn’t let up though, he continues to suck on you. He gulped up every last bit of your release, and was hoping to give you another one until your phone rang. You saw it was your Nannie.

“Harry, fuck, I need to answer that.” He slowly lifts from between your legs and sighs. You clear your throat before answering. “Hi Nannie!”

“Hi precious girl, I got your message.”

“Will that week work for you? I know it’s short notice.”

“Nannie’s actually going to have company for a few days that week, so I don’t think it’ll work. But, if you wanna come the week after?” Your face falls.

“That won’t work, I only have this particular week off…”

“I’m sorry baby, your cousin and his kids are coming to visit, it’s their school vacation.”

“That’s alright, I’m glad they’ll get to see you.”

“Maybe you could come to Aruba again this year.”

“I didn’t think you had fully committed to going.” You perk up.

“I decided a little while ago. You should come if you can, I think your mom is planning on it too.”

“It’ll be just like last year! Okay, I’ll talk to mom. I’d need to book that like now.”

“Yeah, the airfares are decent now, I can text you the dates.”

“Okay! This’ll be so much fun, I’m looking forward to it.”

“Sorry we won’t see each other this month.”

“It’s okay, really. Aruba sounds amazing right now anyways.”

“Okay sweetie, well I need to go, but I love you.”

“Love you too!” You sigh and look at Harry. “So…I’m not going to Florida, I’m sorry. My cousins are visiting with her that week.”

“You could come with me, and stay at my hotel.” You put your hand on his shoulder.

“Harry, I would be bored out of my mind while you worked all day. It’s really short notice, I’ll just stay here.”

“What was that about Aruba?”

“She’s going again this April, and she wants me to come, so I think I will. It’s so much fun.” You stand up and pull your underwear and pants back on. “It’s not the end of the world. I won’t unpack anything you don’t want me to.”

“That’s not the point.” He sighs.

“I know. Sometimes we can’t always get what we want though, babe. Besides, it’ll be nice for us to miss each other a little, don’t you think.” You go over to the fridge and take out some carrot sticks to munch on.

“I miss you enough during the day as it is.” He pouts.

“Harry…”

“I know, I’m actin’ like a baby.”

“It’s only a week. We can FaceTime every night if you want. I can walk you through the apartment, and we can leave our phones on until we fall asleep. You can even still read to me if you want.”

“Do you have enough vacation time to go away in April?”

“Yeah, I have plenty.”

“My family is probably comin’ in April for Easter.”

“That’s usually when we’re in Aruba.”

“Will you have enough vacation time for the summer? I want you to come back to England with me for a couple of weeks.”

“Yeah I should have enough. Besides, they’d probably let me flex time if I didn’t have enough. I could just work remotely over there.”

“How do you stay so calm about all this?”

“In the grand scheme it’s not a big deal.” You shrug, chomping on another carrot. “I’ll miss seeing your mom and Gemma when they come. But at least we’ll have a nice guest space for them!” You say cheerily.

“Suppose you’re right. C’mon, can’t have eatin’ carrots for dinner. How bout I make us some soup?”

“You’ve had a long day. Why don’t I make dinner, and you go play a video game or something?”

“That’d be great, some of my friends might be online.” You give him a quick kiss and get to work.

You had heard someone jokingly say once that your boyfriend or husband was essentially your first baby. You always that that was a weird thing to say because a man should be able to take care of himself. But today Harry literally felt like your baby. You felt this overwhelming need to protect him at all costs, and you knew you’d pounce on anyone what tried to hurt him.

“Oh Harry!”

“Yeah babe?” He says from the couch.

“After dinner, I’d like to return the favor.” You wink at him.

“Best kind of dessert there is, isn’t it?”