#it’s past midnight now cause i’m home but she broke up with me on the 9th. literally a calendar month.

[sharkieboi]

I swear to god I have a curse that anyone I introduce to my family breaks up with me within a month afterwards

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 6 Buried Truths

Summary: When the past can only be contained for so long, Joel is there to pick up the pieces. Rating: 18+ MDNI Explicit Word Count: 8.4k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, language, mentions of a hospital setting, mentions of injury, mentions of past trauma, a FUCK ton of angst, little sprinkle of smut, another cliffhanger (don't worry, i won't make you wait long) A/N: This is the part where you all collectively say OH...

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Joel’s hand remained wrapped around yours as you stared blankly out the plane window. Everything had been a blur the last twenty-four hours. After you got off the call with Beth, you ran through calling the school to find a substitute, packed what you could into a small carry-on bag, and went online to book the first ticket out to Boston. You tried to talk Joel into staying back in Austin; he had work and Sarah to care for, but he was adamant about coming. He made a quick call to Tommy to make a plan for Sarah and contacted his work to find coverage for the rest of the week. He was only apart from you when he rushed home to pack his travel bag. Then you were both off to the airport: you bleary-eyed and Joel more stoic than you could ever recall seeing. He hadn’t said much between security and the flight gate, but you were too exhausted to try and force conversation. 

“Hey,” Joel said, nudging you. “How you feelin’, baby?”

You glanced at him and shrugged, the tears from earlier still drying on your cheeks.

“I’m okay, I guess.”

His fingers squeezed around yours before he brought your hand to his mouth to kiss it softly.

“He’s gonna be alright,” he assured. “Beth said he’s recovering now, right? It’s just gonna take some time.”

While you and Joel were waiting at the gate, you called Beth again to find out what happened with your dad. She explained he had been up on the ladder fixing the roofing above the patio when his foot caught in one of the steps, ultimately forcing him to fall ten feet to the ground. He had a broken hip, a fracture in his lower spine, and a severe concussion—leaving him in a temporary medically induced coma. Beth had said he was lucky to be alive, but the anxiety still bubbled inside you in fear of what he would endure through his recovery. The thought of his injury only elevated the already strong emotions connecting you to the past, making it nearly impossible to cope with your dad’s accident while you simultaneously still struggled with your own.

The plane made a rocky touch-down in Boston well after midnight, the autumn rain causing the plane to slide against the tarmac before coming to a jarring stop. You and Joel rushed around the other passengers, filing out of the plane and sprinting through the airport to find Beth. You singled her out of the crowd, her face rosy and hair piled onto her head in a messy bun. The second she had your arms around you, you crumpled to the ground as the sobs broke out of your chest. 

“It’s okay, sis,” she said, her voice breaking. “He’s stable. It’s gonna be okay.”

“What if—what if he’s not?” You sobbed. 

You clutched onto her sweater, your head buried into her shoulders. She hushed you, her hand rubbing into your back.

“The doctors said he’ll make a full recovery. We just need to wait,” she said. 

“Is there any…” Your voice broke once more.

“No,” she whispered. “There’s no serious damage to his brain.”

You choked on your breath, relief swimming through your veins. This wouldn’t be like your accident; he would be okay. 

“C’mon,” she urged, pulling you to your feet. 

You wiped your nose across your sleeve, sheepishly turning to Joel. Gesturing from him to Beth, you gave a weak smile.

“Joel, this is Beth. Beth, this is Joel.”

Joel and Beth stood motionless, staring awkwardly at each other. You glanced between them, your eyebrows furrowing. Why weren’t they saying anything? 

Finally, Joel cleared his throat and extended his hand to Beth. 

“Nice to meet you, Beth. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Beth took his hand cautiously, giving him a friendly smile.

“Same here.”

You’d revisit this awkward interaction later, but you needed to go home. 

“Is mom home?” You asked Beth. 

You reached for your bag, but Joel gently nudged your hand away. He took it into his hand and walked to the parking garage behind you and your sister.

“Her and Stella are at the hospital,” she explained.

You stopped in your tracks, sending Joel staggering into your back with a soft oof.

“Sorry,” you muttered to Joel. You turned back to Beth. “Take me home.”

“No,” she said sternly. “They want you there. You need to be there.”

“Beth,” you started.

She lifted a hand to silence you, glancing over your shoulder at Joel.

“Can you jump in the car real quick? I need to talk to my sister alone.”

Beth tossed her keys to Joel, waiting until the back door shut before she glared at you. 

“Does he know?” She questioned.

“Of course, he doesn’t know,” you argued. 

She scoffed, folding her arms.

“Considering everything going on, you didn’t think to mention it to him?”

“Sorry, I’ve been a little busy getting my ass out here as fast as possible. It didn’t register in my mind to share the sad details of my accident with him.”

“You need to tell him, sis.”

“This isn’t the fucking time to do it!” You snapped. 

Beth rolled her eyes, her lips pursed for another attack.

“It’s going to come out sooner or later. You know that, right? He’s not going to run away if you tell him.”

“Bennett did, so why is he any different?”

“Stop comparing him to Bennett!” She yelled. “He’s nothing like him, and if you seriously think that, then you’re a fucking idiot.”

“Don’t say that,” you mumbled.

“What? The truth? Because the truth is that you are a fucking idiot. And on top of that, you’re a coward.”

“Fuck you,” you spat. 

Beth laughed. She actually laughed. Rounding the car, she left you standing teary-eyed and frustrated. 

“Get in the fucking car,” she shouted. “We’re wasting time.”

You hauled yourself into the front seat, keeping your eyes out of the window and avoiding the heavy truth sitting between you, Beth, and Joel. If any one of them told him about your past, you’d kill them. It was yours to share whenever you were ready. 

Beth drove like a bat out of hell to Mass General. No one said anything the entire drive, and you were grateful for it. After the blowup between you and Beth, you had no more energy left to fight. You just hoped you’d be able to reel in the anger with Joel; he didn’t deserve it. 

Mass General loomed above the rain clouds settling over the city. Joel and Beth had already exited the car while you sat inside its warmth, your eyes stuck on the Emergency sign at the front of the hospital. Joel tapped on the window, stirring you from the numbing sensation rolling through your body. You didn’t even flinch at the sound of his knuckles on the glass. Joel cracked the door open, pulling it wide enough to fit his broad frame between the metal and your shaking body.

“C’mon baby,” he urged, offering his hand. “I know y’can do this. I’m right here with you, okay?”

“I can’t,” you whined. 

Joel crouched slightly, leveling you with soft brown eyes, a curl drifting over his forehead. You wished you were both in bed, curled under the covers and far away from Boston. You wanted his soft hair between your fingers and his stubble ticking your skin. But no, you were here in Boston, with a rain cloud hanging in the sky and your father unconscious in a hospital bed. 

“Look at me,” Joel breathed.

You wanted to look anywhere but at him. If he looked at you any longer, you’d shatter completely. He cautioned your name, coaxing you from your hesitation. His strong hands cupped your cheeks, holding you firm as he kept your focus on his eyes.

“I’m right here,” he repeated. “Ain’t gonna leave your side no matter what. Y’understand? Whatever happens, I’m right here.”

You chewed on your lip to keep the sobs from escaping. It was surprising you had anything left to cry; all you did was cry… and cry… and cry. 

“I can’t go in there, Joel. You don’t—you don’t understand.”

“Help me understand,” he pleaded.

“Go without me. I’ll wait outside, okay?”

“Baby,” he groaned. “Beth will have my ass if I don’t get you inside.”

You scoffed, ripping his hands from your face. 

“You speak a few words to her and suddenly know how she’s gonna react?” You glared. “You both acted so fucking weird in the airport and now you’re taking her side?”

Joel straightened to his full height, the shadow of his body blanketing you. You were pushing him away; you knew it, and so did he. You just needed to nudge him a bit more, and he’d run. You’d be alone again and spare yourself the humiliation and heartbreak.

“I ain’t takin’ sides,” he argued. “I’m bein’ realistic. I saw the way she went at you back there. I’m not ‘bout to get the same treatment for leavin’ you behind.”

“Just go!” You yelled. You shoved at his chest, forcing him back into the door. 

He didn’t respond in anger like you expected. He did the opposite, pulling you towards him and into a desperate kiss. You tried to push him off—tried to fight it— but he only held you tighter.

“Keep fightin’ me, baby,” he said against your mouth. “I’m only gonna fight back.”

“I hate you,” you cried. “I hate you.”

But you didn’t stop kissing him. You gripped the wild curls at the base of his neck, pinning him to your lips as you sobbed through every slant of his mouth. 

“Why won’t you leave?” You cried, the words muffled as his tongue searched for yours. “Why, Joel?”

“I ain’t leavin’ you again, baby,” he murmured. “I can’t.”

Joel pulled away from your swollen lips, tears pooling in his eyes. You instantly felt remorse for treating him so badly. You wouldn’t do to him what Bennett did to you. 

“Remember when I said this was real?” he asked. “Do you still believe that?”

You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears ran down your cheeks.

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Then trust me when I say I’m never leavin’. Not now. Not ever.”

You inhaled a sharp breath and buried your head in your hands. 

“Just give me a minute, okay?” You exhaled. “Catch up with Beth, and I’ll be right behind you.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said, echoing the words you spoke only a few weeks ago. 

“You and your deals,” you grumbled, peeking out your fingers.

That garnered a slight grin from Joel, his lips curling upward.

“Take your breather, and I’ll wait by the back of the car. If y’wanna go in, we can go in together.”

You remained silent, hiccuping over another sob. Joel raised his brow, waiting for a response. Avoiding his eyes, you nodded, the Emergency sign taunting you from a distance. Joel leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead and abandoned you to retreat toward the back of the car. 

You steadied your breathing, focusing on the slow inhale and exhale of the air within your lungs. It wasn’t you in that hospital bed; it was your dad. He didn’t sustain the same damage you had, and that’s all that mattered. Whatever the outcome, he was better off than you had ever been, and you needed to be grateful for it. 

You let your legs move on their own accord as you took your spot beside Joel, his hand instantly grasping around yours. His touch grounded you in the moment, keeping you centered as your mind swam upstream through the rocky waves of the past. You had to stay strong. You had to prove you could do this.

The second your feet crossed through the sliding doors, all that strength collapsed. Joel hooked a strong arm around your back, bracing you to his side as he guided you into the waiting room. Your mom and Beth sat side by side in the worn-down seats, their faces grim and tired. 

“Hey,” you said wearily. 

Your mom's eyes snapped up, and she broke down at seeing you. She ran up to yank you from Joel’s grasp, smothering you into a tight hug. 

“Oh, honey,” she cried. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“How’s dad?” You asked, speaking into her hair that wrapped around your face.

“Doctors haven’t given much of an update, but he’s alright. They’re taking him in for surgery in a few hours to help reset his hip.”

“And his head?” You faltered.

“There’s no serious damage,” she whispered.

You peered over her shoulder to where Beth sat, eyes meeting in a quiet understanding. There was still a tension running thick between you both, but those words from your mom were enough to soothe the surmounting anxiety inside you.

“Mom,” you sighed, tearing away from her embrace. “This is Joel.”

You motioned to Joel behind you, an eerie repeat of what had happened between him and Beth. Your mom stood frozen, her eyes widening as she stared at him. Joel cracked a welcoming smile, extending his hand out to her. No one moved, and his hand remained wavering in the stagnant air. 

“Mom?” You pressed.

She shook her head and opened her arms to Joel, inviting him in for a hug. It was strange but not entirely unexpected, considering the circumstances. 

“Hi, honey,” she said as she rocked Joel back and forth in the embrace. 

“Hi, Mrs. Smith,” Joel replied. You caught on to the way his biceps flexed around her, squeezing her just as tightly as he would with you. He was comforting her, and something softened inside you. 

Beth cleared her throat behind you, snapping you out of your thoughts. Your mom released Joel and turned towards Beth.

“She should go up and see him,” Beth told your mom.

“She is right here,” you snapped.

“Oh, now she wants to listen to me,” Beth snorted.

“Both of you!” Your mom shouted. “Enough!”

You shrunk away, folding yourself into Joel’s warm frame. The press of his body against yours quelled the anger rising back up, and you kept focus on his hands rubbing over your arms to keep from lashing out. Beth was pushing, and you knew exactly why.

“Listen, Beth, stay here and chill out,” your mom started. She glanced back at you and Joel before continuing. “Let’s go upstairs, and I’ll take you to see him.”

You followed your mom up to the ICU, your eyes shifting from one room to another. The repetition of machines beeping and murmurs of nurses through the hall slammed into your head like a hammer, and you found yourself clinging to Joel, twisting his cotton shirt until it stretched between your fingers. 

“It’s okay, baby,” Joel crooned. “I got you. Ain’t lettin’ you go.”

Mom guided you to the room where Stella was perched on a chair beside the bed. You averted your eyes from your dad, refusing to look. Stella turned to see you walk in and immediately sprinted into your arms, sobbing into your chest.

“I know. I know,��� you cried.

“I was so scared it was going to happen again, sis,” she muttered. 

“They said he was okay, right? It’s not going to happen to him,” you assured. 

“But what if it does? What if he wakes up and doesn’t remember—.”

“Don’t,” you interjected. “Don’t say it.”

She peeled herself from you and wiped away her tears. Joel stepped forward, his hand pressed to your lower back, as he made his way to introduce himself.

“I’m Joel,” he smiled, extending his hand.

Stella flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling into his chest. Your mom watched them with a knowing look, something you couldn’t discern. 

“I’ve heard so much about you,” she sighed. 

Weird. You only really talked to Beth about Joel and didn’t expect her to share it with anyone except your mom. 

Joel rubbed her shoulders gently, then pulled away. 

“Likewise, Stell.”

Stell. You didn’t recall calling her that in front of Joel; that nickname was reserved for you and only you. Your head was pounding, and the nagging feeling that you were losing grip on reality was slowly settling in. You worked so hard to remember everything; it wouldn’t happen again. Not now. 

“You okay, sweetie?” Your mom cautioned, stepping beside you.

Her voice roused you from your confusion, and you made the mistake of looking at your dad for the first time. He looked so much smaller, lying in the hospital bed: a breathing tube situated under his nose and IVs running through the bend of his arm. Oh God, and his face. Both of his eyes were rimmed in dark bruises, and a thick layer of bandages was wrapped over his forehead. Was that how you looked all those years ago? Your stomach churned with nausea the longer you looked at him. The whirring of the machines in the room dizzied you, and you felt your body swaying in place. Joel quickly steadied you, his arms coming around your front to lock you into a tight hold. 

“You’re okay, baby,” he murmured into your ear. 

“Do you want to be alone with him, sweetie?” Your mom asked.

“Please,” you said, nodding. 

Joel kissed the crown of your head before following your mom and Stella out into the hall. You glanced over your shoulder to see them all huddled together, the cracked blinds inside the room obstructing your view of what they were saying. You’d ask Joel about it later.

Turning back to your dad, you let the real tears fall. The ugly, gut-wrenching ones you had held back for so long. Tears that weren’t just for him, but for you as well. No one in your family knew the fear and pain that came with a head injury. No one could understand you—not even Bennett, despite everything he tried to say and do. You were alone in its entirety, but you’d be damned if your dad dealt with the same. 

Cradling his hand in yours, you drew circles over his calloused skin with your thumb. You didn’t have words to express your pain, so you sat in silence. The constant repetition of machinery beeping throbbed through the recesses of your brain, a migraine looming on the horizon. You’d suffer with it later, but it would be worth it just to stay in this moment a few seconds longer.

“I love you, dad,” you whispered. 

You didn’t know if he could hear you, but you hoped he did. 

You remained silent for a few more minutes and glanced at the clock above the bed. 3: 13 AM. You hadn’t realized how much of the day had drained away, and the fatigue in your body was settling in rapidly. You wanted to lie down and wake up when everything was better, but it all came with time. And you hated that. You hated time and things it had stolen from you.

A light rap on the door startled you from your silent cocoon, and you turned to see Joel peeking in through the window. You motioned him to come in, and he bent beside the bed, his hand resting on your thigh.

“How ya’ doin’, baby?” He asked softly.

“I’m tired,” you lamented.

He smoothed his hand over your legs, the warmth of his touch radiating through your body. You leaned into his touch, letting your head rest on his.

“I’m gonna ask Beth if we can take the car and go home,” you said. “I can’t be here anymore, and I need sleep.”

“We can do that. Your mom said they’re gonna take him for surgery in a few, anyway. No point stickin’ around if we’d just be waitin’.”

“When he’s out of surgery, they can call me, and we can come back.”

“Sounds like a plan, baby. Let’s get you home.”

Joel offered to drive Beth’s car back to the house. You sat beside him, your head propped in your hand, watching as he drove through the city streets. Even cast in the late night sky, he was so handsome. The rich tan color of his skin seemed to be illuminated by the moonlight glinting through the windshield, his brown eyes softer than you’d ever seen. There wasn’t a trace of a smile on his lips, but he still looked so kind and so loving. Joel glanced over at you as the car slowed in front of the red light. 

“What’s that look for?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m just really thankful you’re here,” you exhaled. “I’m sorry you had to see me so angry earlier. It wasn’t fair of me to take it out on you.”

Joel leaned over the dash to pull you in for a soft, fleeting kiss.

“There’s a lot happenin’ right now, baby. Be angry all y’want. I can take it,” he said.

You chewed on your lip and nodded, turning your attention back to the street as the light turned green. Joel drove in silence the rest of the way to your parent's house, guiding him quietly with directions every few turns. Even though it had only been a few weeks since you were last home, the streets were scattered with yellow and orange leaves, autumn settling over the neighborhood. The car's tires flattened over them as Joel slowed to the front of the house and killed the engine. 

“This where y’grew up?” Joel asked, tilting his head toward the house.

You nodded, but your eyes were glued to the porch. The ladder was still lying on the ground; the metal pressed into the cold grass of the front lawn. Joel must’ve picked up on your fixation and sighed. 

“I’ll go pick it up, baby. Why don’t you grab your bag and head in, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” But your eyes didn’t stray from the ladder.

You watched Joel reach the ladder, his body a beacon under the moonlight. His tall figure moved against the cover of the night sky, working quickly to move it off to the side of the house. You took an extra moment to collect yourself before gathering your bags and meeting him on the porch. Joel took them immediately from your hands as you guided him into the house. You’d give him a tour of it tomorrow; you just wanted to curl under the covers of your bed and waste away. 

When you opened the door to your bedroom, Joel gave a low whistle, glancing around at the artifacts of your childhood. Miscellaneous pictures of you and your sisters hung on the walls, along with a collection of CDs stacked on the floor in one corner and a reading nook built into the windowsill. The dated white armoire was nestled against the wall beside your vanity, and the large queen bed sat untouched and nicely made with its white comforter and grey pillows. 

“Nice lil’ room y’got here, baby,” Joel chuckled.

“Yeah, it’s alright,” you shrugged.

You dumped your bag on the ground, collapsing backward until your back hit the bed with a soft thud. Joel followed your lead, and you both lay there silently, staring at the ceiling fan as it spun in circles. It was tempting just to succumb to sleep right in that moment, but you knew you needed a shower to wash off the lingering stress of the day. 

“Come shower with me?” You asked, glancing over at Joel.

“Of course.”

The heat of the shower pelted your skin as Joel rubbed a loufa into your back muscles, working out the knots that had materialized through the long day. You basked in the warmth of his body pressed into yours, your head falling back against his muscular chest and eyes drifting shut. His tender touch helped alleviate the pressure building in your head, and you prayed that the migraine would subside soon enough. 

“Doin’ okay, baby?” He asked, his mouth pressing into the side of your neck.

You hummed at his lips on your skin, bringing your arm up to wrap around the back of his neck. His fingers drifted over the curves of your body, squeezing your hips softly before trailing between your legs.

“Can I?” 

“Mhmm,” you sighed, shifting your body slightly so that he could explore further.

His hand dipped between your legs, your arousal already pooling at your entrance. He was slow with his touch, each graze of his fingers over your sensitive bud eliciting a soft moan from your lips. Joel’s mouth roamed over the expanse of your neck as he continued to draw circles over your throbbing clit. Your fingers tugged at his wet curls, urging him closer. The blood coursing through your veins thrummed with pleasure as he teased the build-up of your release. 

“You’re beautiful, baby. Y’know that?” He whispered in your ear.

Maybe it was the gentle touch of his fingers or his words swimming through your mind, but your climax shattered you into pieces in record time. Your thighs clenched tight around his hand as you let out a soft cry. 

“That’s it,” he crooned. “Let go, baby.”

You slumped against his body, your heart settling back into a normal rhythm. Joel held you close, wrapping his arms around your front and swaying you under the spray of the water. Your eyes grew heavy the longer you remained in his embrace, so you decided to cut the water and drag him out and into bed. 

Under the security of your comforter, you clung to Joel and buried your head into the crook of his arm. He traced circles over your bare arm, letting you lay quietly against him. The familiar pressure of a migraine began forming in your mind, the pounding ache settling behind your eyes. You squeezed your eyes tighter, curling yourself up into his body in hopes it would fade away as you slept. 

“What’s wrong?” Joel asked, noticing the tension paralyzing your muscles.

“Migraine,” you choked out. 

“What do y’need? I can go get it.”

“No, I’m fine,” you lied. “Just stay here. Please.”

“These happen often?”

“Not in a while.” You couldn’t find the strength to form complete sentences, so the words came out choppy and pained.

“Will sleep help?” 

“I hope,” you muttered, tears slipping down your cheeks.

Joel’s arms tightened around your body, anchoring you to his side as he hummed softly into your hair. Pain pulsated through your head as you forced yourself to fall asleep, your limbs shaking as they wrapped around his torso. 

All you wanted was for the pain to go away. 

A few hours later, the morning light dancing through the window stirred you awake. The residual aching pain in your head still lingered, but it was far more manageable than it had been before you fell asleep. Joel snored softly beside you, and you took the chance to watch him as he slept peacefully beside you. The creases in his skin were softened in his slumber, his face relaxed and calm. His lips were parted slightly, the bottom one plush and pouty and tempting to kiss. You nestled into his body, your mouth roaming over his scruffy jaw and eventually reaching his lips. The strange urge to say I love you nearly tumbled out of your mouth as you kissed him, but you swallowed it and saved it away. It was the first time you thought those three little words in the space with someone other than Bennett. Knowing Joel was digging closer to your heart, breaking down every barrier and wall, it was still frightening. But if this sudden trip had taught you anything, he was right; this was real. You weren’t ready to confess those words, but in time you would. 

Just not now. 

Joel roused himself from sleep, groaning softly as he pulled you in for a gentle kiss. 

“Mornin’, baby. How’s your head feelin’?”

“Better,” you sighed. 

“Ready to go back to the hospital?”

You groaned, shoving your head under the comforter. 

“I hate it there.”

He squeezed your side, urging you back up to the surface. Your eyes connected with his, the morning light coloring his eyes a rich shade of amber. Flecks of gold scattered through his irises, blending into the rich chocolate brown you were drawn to. 

“Why do y’hate it so much?” He wondered.

“I—I just don’t have good memories of it.”

“Y’wanna talk to me ‘bout it?”

You rolled onto your back, closing your eyes as the memories waded through the headache still swimming in your head. 

“Bennett, there’s a chance this could actually work,” you begged. 

“I’m not risking it. What if it doesn’t work and things get worse?” He argued. “Isn’t it easier to just move forward?”

You rubbed circles into your temples, trying to soften the onset migraine surging to the surface. All this arguing was making you nauseous and tired. Why wouldn’t Bennett be on your side about this? Why wasn’t he agreeing with you?

“I want to remember,” you lamented. “I want those two years back.”

“The doctors said it’ll take time. Why isn’t that enough?” Bennett sighed, crouching down to meet you at eye level. 

“You don’t understand, Bennett.”

“I’m trying,” he snapped. 

It was the first time you’d experienced his anger in such a way. He wasn’t taking your side, and he wasn’t even listening to your requests. You could only nod and cave to his arguments; he was the one holding the power now. You had to trust him. 

Situating yourself against the headboard, you inhaled sharply and glanced at Joel. 

“I might as well tell you since everyone is on my case about it,” you groaned. 

“Only if you wanna, baby. I ain’t gonna force you,” Joel sighed, looking up at you.

Giving yourself a moment to gather your thoughts, you dove into the story.

“I was in an accident when I was twenty-two, or I guess twenty-four. The last thing I remember was being twenty-two and just moving to Austin with Bennett. We had just moved into our apartment, and I was about to start substitute teaching while finishing my Master's degree. Everything was great. Then, I got in an accident on the way home from school, and the next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital. 

“I guess in the crash, my head hit the dashboard hard enough to cause serious damage to my brain. They—the doctors, told me I had sustained enough trauma to cause retrograde amnesia. I woke up thinking I was still twenty-two, Joel. I lost two years of my life. I couldn’t remember a single thing.”

“Oh, baby. I’m so fuckin’ sorry,” he whispered, propping himself on his elbows. 

“Bennett tried to fill me in on pieces of it, but trying to remember did more damage than anything,” you continued. “I had migraines all the time. I could barely function for the first couple of months, and that’s when my parents talked me into coming back here. To Mass General. They ran so many tests on me and tried to find solutions, but there was no hope. Bennett was adamant about not causing any more damage to my brain, so I just gave up,” you explained. 

“You gave up tryin’ to remember?” He asked, pulling himself up to sit beside you. There was a deep furrow between his brows and a noticeable shift in his body language. Everything was tense, from his jaw to how his fists clenched together. 

“Yeah. I trusted Bennett with the memories I no longer had and knew he would take care of me. Or at least, I hoped he would. The doctors suggested I stay in Boston to go through psychotherapy to help try and piece together those memories, but Bennett was against it. It caused a huge riff in my family since they wanted me to stay and get help.”

“He kept you from rememberin’ things,” Joel frowned.

You nodded, digging your knuckles into your eyes to try and push away the pressure building behind them again. 

“We were here for almost two months, just constantly going in and out of the hospital. I’d have these debilitating migraines that would lead to fainting spells, so I was always back at the emergency room for more testing. The outcome was always the same, though. I felt so defeated every time like it was my fault,” you confessed. 

Joel laid a hand on your thigh, smoothing over your skin as you tried to drag in a lungful of air. 

“It ain’t your fault though, baby,” he assured.

“I should have advocated for myself more. I just did whatever Bennett said because he knew things I couldn’t remember. He even proposed here. He made this big, long speech about how he never wanted to face the fear of losing me again, and I went with it because I loved him. I loved him enough to do whatever he said because I owed it to him.”

“You were tryna heal from everythin’,” he offered, trying to make sense of it all. “It’s not your fault for what happened after.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes.

“But it is,” you argued. “It’s my fault Bennett left. If I thought our fights before the crash were bad… It only got worse. We moved out of our apartment and got this big house. We decided to speed through our engagement for the sake of my fucking memory. All the while, Bennett just started to get angrier and angrier. I was trying so hard to remember things, and he just started to remember less. He was always fighting with me over every little thing. He barely touched me or looked at me. For fuck sake, he wouldn’t even sleep in the same bed as me! It’s like he didn’t want me to have those memories back, and I just—I don’t understand why.”

Joel pulled your head into his hands, his eyes darkening as he stared at you. His thumbs rubbed over your cheekbones in an attempt to calm your rambling. You wanted to flinch away from his touch, but he only held you tighter.

“None of this is your fault,” he emphasized. 

“It is, though,” you sniffled. The tears were ready to slip at any moment. “He wanted the girl I was before the crash, and I was so hell-bent on trying to fix my memory that I stopped being that version of myself. I couldn’t be what he wanted, so he left. I wasn’t enough, Joel. I couldn’t fight for him to stay because he didn’t want me. I—I’m so fucked up, Joel.”

Joel’s nostrils flared, a wash of anger clouding his eyes. But you knew it wasn’t anger toward you. It was toward Bennett.

“Hey, don’t talk like that,” he snapped. “You’re not fucked up. Bennett was an asshole, and I swear I’d kill him if I could.”

“That’s not funny,” you deadpanned. 

“It wasn’t meant to be funny, baby. I’m serious. Ain’t no way y’went through hell and back for him to do that to you. Y’didn’t get the time to heal because you were so focused on tryin’ to make him happy, and he didn’t deserve you. You know that, right? None of this is your fault.”

You shrugged off his hands and scooted out of the warmth of the bed. Digging through your bag, you pulled out a change of clothes, carelessly throwing an outfit together while Joel sat motionless on the bed. 

“Baby,” Joel pleaded. “Stop for a minute, ‘kay? Are you listenin’ to me?”

He threw back the covers and strode to where you stood, your arms halfway into a sweater. He helped tug it the rest of the way, settling it over your body before reeling you in for a long kiss. It was his weapon for shutting you up, and he was really fucking good at using it. You dragged yourself away from his mouth, staggering back until there was enough distance between you and him. 

“I should have fucking listened to everyone,” you heaved. “I should have fucking stayed in Boston, but I wanted to prove I could do it. I wanted to prove I could continue living with this fucked up part of myself.”

Joel cautioned your name, and you took another step back.

“Look at me, Joel!” You laughed. “I’m fucked up! I still can’t remember a damn fucking thing, and being here is only a brutal reminder of that. I lost so much of myself because of that accident. And I swear to God, if I lose my dad, too. I—I can’t…”

Your knees hit the ground before it even registered in your mind. Joel was quick to drop to the floor in front of you, pulling you into his lap as the sobs wracked through your body. You rocked yourself back and forth as Joel’s arms wound into a vice around your chest. He hushed you softly as you audibly cried loud enough to echo around the room. 

“You aren’t gonna lose him,” Joel whispered in your ear. 

“What if—.” You choked on another cry.

“Breathe with me, baby. Just breathe. C’mon.”

Joel inhaled loudly, coaxing you to do the same. You followed his lead, exhaling when he instructed to. You both repeated it a few more times until you felt the surge of emotions slow. 

“That’s it, baby,” he sighed. “I’m right here with you. Everythin’ is gonna be okay.”

You burrowed your head into his chest, your tears dampening his bare chest. How was he not running away from you? You laid all your damaged pieces out, and he still had his arms around you. You didn’t deserve it. You couldn’t make sense of it.

“What do y’say we get back to the hospital?” Joel offered after a moment. “We can check in and see how the surgery went. It’ll give you some peace of mind.”

“Okay,” you acquiesced. 

Joel helped you to your feet, and you both finished changing in silence. You grabbed your purse and followed Joel to the car, and you both returned to Mass General. 

“He’s fine, honey,” your mom said, giving you a weak smile.

You were all crowded in the hospital room surrounding your dad as he lay unconscious on the bed. 

“The doctors say he’s going to make a full recovery,” she continued. “They’re going to slow the sedative down, and hopefully, he’ll be waking up in the next day or so.”

Beth and Stella stood close together, Stella’s head resting on Beth’s shoulder. Their expressions were painted with relief, and you felt your muscles loosen at the news.

“So, we just wait?” You asked. 

“We will wait,” your mom corrected. “You and Joel should go back to Austin. There’s no point sticking around now that we know he’s alright.”

You turned to stare at her, your lips twisting into a scowl.

“I am not leaving until he wakes up,” you argued. 

“We’ll call right when he wakes up,” she offered. “I know being here is hard for you, honey. And you’ve got a job that needs you.”

“Mom!” You shouted. It was loud enough to startle everyone. “I’m not leaving.”

“She’s right, baby,” Joel chimed in. “He’s gonna be okay.”

“I want to stay.”

“Look, let’s make a deal. We stay another day and then go home, okay?”

You glanced between everyone in the room, finally settling your eyes on your dad, still unconscious in the bed. Everyone was right, but you didn’t want to leave yet. You weren’t ready. Even if being here felt like hell. 

“One more day,” you agreed.

You remained at the hospital most of the day, shifting between the waiting room and your dad’s room. Everyone took turns visiting him and meeting with doctors, and Joel stayed at your side every minute. Stella took a liking to him most out of everyone, spending a good majority of the time talking his ear off about Sarah. Seeing Joel engage with her as he did was endearing as if they knew each other and were old friends catching up. He treated everyone in your family so kindly that it was hard to continue shoving down those three little words. You wanted to say them more than ever…but weren’t sure when you’d feel ready. 

Eventually, the day faded into night, and your mom urged everyone to go home while she insisted on staying. You didn’t know when she had slept last, but she was adamant about staying with your dad. Beth drove you all home, humming some song that floated through the radio. As the house came into view, she dialed down the volume and turned toward the backseat. 

“Joel, Stella, will you guys head in while I talk to sis?” Beth asked as she parked the car.

You gave her a confused stare as they filed out and walked up the driveway toward the house. 

“Did you tell him?” She asked, turning to look at you.

Her eyes were dark with heavy circles, and her lips stuck in a straight line.

“I did,” you nodded.

“What did he say?”

“He just sympathized with me. There’s not much else to say,” you shrugged. 

“That’s it?” She pressed, her brows scrunching together.

You scoffed, glancing out the side window. 

“What did you want him to say, Beth? There isn’t much to say when you tell someone your memory is all fucked up.”

“I just figured he’d say more,” she offered.

“Like what?” You snapped. “Nothing he says is going to magically make it better.”

“I know, I know. I just thought he’d say more.”

You stared at her, the tiredness creeping into your bones. You didn’t want to argue anymore, not about this or anything.

“Can we just go in? I’m tired,” you said.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Beth and Stella offered to make dinner that night, all four of you quietly eating in heavy silence as the evening drifted later. Once dinner was all said and done, you and Joel retired to your room, curling up under the covers once again. You tangled your legs between his and kissed up his chest and under his jaw.

“Baby,” he warned. “The girls are right down the hall. Don’t be doin’ that.”

“Why?” You questioned, continuing the path up his cheek and to his lips.

Joel captured your mouth in a hungry kiss, his hands tangling in your hair. You moaned softly as the kiss deepened, his hands roaming over your body.

“I want you, Joel,” you whispered against his mouth.

“Baby, we can’t,” he groaned. But he didn’t stop kissing you.

He rolled his body over yours, pinning you to the bed as his hand slid under your pajama bottoms. You bucked into his hand, searching for a fleeting touch to quell the ache growing between your thighs. Joel responded to your desperation, slipping a finger between your slick folds. 

“I’ll be quiet,” you promised. “Just keep kissing me.”

Joel relented to your pleas, locking his mouth with yours again. He added another finger, plunging them inside you as you cried out at the pressure. His teeth quickly bit down on your bottom lip, a silent demand to keep your voice down.

“Sorry,” you exhaled.

“Be good for me, baby,” he whispered. 

His fingers abandoned you, but it was barely a moment of loss before he sank his cock into you. You used all your strength to hold back a groan of relief as the slight sting of your body stretching to him faded into bliss. Joel kept his hands tangled in your hair as he rocked into you, your bodies moving in unison as he drove himself deeper with each thrust. 

“Joel…” You whimpered against his mouth.

“Stay quiet, baby.”

His mouth roamed down the column of your throat, sucking gently at your skin as he reached one arm down to hook around the back of your knee. The change in position only sent his cock deeper inside you, your core clenching around him with every drive of his hips. 

“It feels so good,” you panted, rolling your hips. “I’m so close, Joel. Don’t stop.”

“Good girl,” he hummed. “Cum for me, baby.”

His hips snapped harder against you, and you bit back another cry of pleasure. Your body thrummed with the need for release, the waves crashing inside you growing stronger. Just a little more… a little more. Joel’s other hand snaked between your bodies, his fingers brushing over your clit. You arched into his touch and ground your nails into the skin of his biceps. 

“Joel,” you choked.

The orgasm exploded through you, fogging your vision as your core pulsated around his cock. Joel let out a strangled groan and tumbled over the edge with you, his release filling you only seconds later. 

Joel collapsed against your body, his cock slipping out of you as it softened. You welcomed the weight of him, letting his skin meld into yours. I love you. It was just a breath from escaping your lips, but you kept it shoved down. 

Another time, you told yourself. 

“Can I sleep like this?” Joel chuckled, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Whatever you want, handsome,” you giggled. 

He peered up at you, a grin curving over his face.

“There’s that word again,” he smirked.

“Oh, shut up. You like it.”

“I really fuckin’ do.”

You bent your neck to kiss his forehead before settling back against the pillow. It was easier to sleep like this, knowing you’d have him in your arms when you woke up. It made everything inside you hurt less. 

After an extra day at the hospital, nothing new had progressed with your dad. Your mom assured you that she would call if she had any news of him waking up, so you and Joel said your goodbyes and made the trip back to Austin. 

Nothing had changed in Austin, not that you were expecting it to. Joel returned home after spending an extra few hours under your bed sheets with you, groaning about not wanting to leave. You urged him to go, knowing Sarah was probably missing him. That first night home alone was the hardest; the nightmares continued again now that you had no distractions. The migraine had returned at full throttle when you woke up the next morning, and you had to make an extra effort to pull yourself from bed and dress for work. Not a single cell in your body wanted to return to a classroom full of loud kids, but you had missed enough days and needed to make up for lost time. 

Maria was the first to drill you with questions as you arrived at the school. 

“Is everything okay? I asked around and only heard that it was a family emergency.”

You shuffled into your classroom, Maria hot on your heels. You could barely stand the stream of light coming through the windows, let alone the sound of her voice.

“My dad had an accident, that’s all,” you assured. “Everything is okay.”

“Oh, thank God he’s okay.” She flung her arms around you, giving you a suffocating hug.

You peeled away from her, steadying your body against the corner of your desk. 

“I’ll tell you more later, okay? I just need to prep for classes before the first bell.”

“I’ll check in on you later,” she announced before leaving. 

The day moved on slowly, and before you knew it, your final class was over. As the students filed out, you started gathering your things but noticed Sarah lingered behind.

“Everything okay, sweetie?” You asked as she approached your desk.

“Um, kinda?” She gave you a sheepish look. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Of course, sweetheart. What’s going on?”

She shifted her weight between her legs, her hazel eyes on the floor.

“Are you dating my dad?”

Your breath stalled, and you were unsure of what to say or do. Was it appropriate to lie? You and Joel hadn’t discussed the possibility of her finding out much and now was definitely not the time.

“Why do you ask?” You were deflecting.

“I overheard him talking to my Uncle Tommy last night,” she explained. 

Your heart pounded in your chest, and blood rushed through your ears. God, what had they said? What did she hear?

“Go on,” you insisted, your voice unsteady. 

“My dad told Uncle Tommy he loved you.”

At that moment, her hazel eyes met yours, and everything came crashing down. You tripped over your words and found yourself gripping the desk.

“Miss Smith?” Sarah cautioned. 

“I’m sure your dad was talking about someone else,” you lied. “Why don’t you head home? I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She looked at you with confusion written all over her face but eventually followed your request and left you in an empty room.

You sank into your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose. You knew Joel’s feelings were there for you, but you didn’t want to hear it from Sarah. You wanted to hear it from him. Searching for your purse, you found your phone and dialed his number with shaking hands.

He answered immediately.

“Did y’hear from your mom?” He asked in a rush.

“No, it’s not that. Can you—” You steadied your breathing. “Can you just meet me at my house?”

“Of course, is everythin’ okay? You’re worryin’ me.”

“I’m fine, Joel. I’ll see you there in a few.”

You hung up before he could say anymore and be-lined for your car. You drove home on autopilot, the words jumbling together in your head. 

I think he’s already falling in love with you. 

My dad told Uncle Tommy he loved you.

Over and over again, Beth and Sarah’s voices played on a loop. You turned onto your street and blinked back tears. You weren’t ready to face this. What were you going to say? What would Joel say? What would—

You slammed on your brakes right before you got to your house. 

Joel’s truck wasn’t there. 

But Bennett’s car was.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Angst requesr, RoR characters receive a call from the hospital that teen!reader got into a horrible hit and run accident. The reader woke up soon after surgery and immediately cried in pian

-There was a phone call, one that nobody realized would change their lives.

-You were on your way home from school and someone blew a stop sign and struck you before driving off, a hit and run.

-You were in transport to the hospital when they received the call, fury and tears quickly rising before Brunnhilde spoke, quickly taking charge, “If you’re going to the hospital, come with me! I’m leaving now!” most followed after her, but a few went to the scene of the accident, to speak to police about what happened and if there was any information about who had struck you.

-Four hours had passed, the hospital staff wouldn’t let any of them back to see you, as you had been rushed to surgery, which send a chill of dread down their spines.

-Jack, Nikola, Lu Bu, and Hades had been the ones to go to the scene of the accident and question the police. Nikola was easily able to hack into the nearby security cameras and once they had their target, it was a race to who would get to this bastard first, them or the police.

-Just past the fifth hour, night had long fallen, a doctor finally came out to speak with your massive adoptive family, pulling them all aside to a quiet area of the waiting room so she could speak with them. Hermes video called Hades, so the four hunters could get an update on you, as their hunt was coming to a close, as the offender had been driving nonstop to get away.

-Both legs broken, your left on your femur and your right at your fibula and at your ankle, your right clavicle was snapped, your right shoulder dislocated, your right radius had a hairline fracture, your wrist and two fingers had hair line fractures, multiple abrasions and internal bleeding from the blunt force trauma, and a mild concussion.

-Your snapped clavicle was the one thing that caused the most worry, mainly because it broke outwards, nicking your carotid artery and nearly caused you to bleed out. Adding in the shock your body was forced into, you almost didn’t make it.

-The doctor was calm but demanded the same from your family, for them to remain calm, as she told them everything that had happened to you, but she calmed them with three short words, “She’s now stable.”

-You were unconscious when she allowed them to visit you, but they had strict instructions to not touch you at all, but seeing your broken little body in the bed, breathing mask over your mouth, casts on your arm and both legs, several of them had to step out, unable to stand the sight of you broken like this.

-Adam was openly crying, kneeling by your bedside while Brunnhilde was seething in anger, near vibrating, she only calmed when Odin put a hand on her shoulder, to ground her and it was only then when she realized tears had been cascading down her cheeks since she entered the room.

-The headhunters arrived at the hospital about an hour later, not bloody, but furious, as the police had gotten to the driver first, it was another teenager, one who didn’t even have a license. He was being booked on multiple charges and Jack, who was the only one not at the hospital, staking out the police station, had kept everyone up to date, that the kid’s parents arrived and there was a lot of shouting at the kid for his actions once the police received the report and the footage of the hit and run and the report of your injuries. He almost killed you.

-For once, the color of fear disgusted Jack, as the boy reeked of it, he didn’t even need to use his gift to see it, he found the color disgusting and thought the only worthy thing was the death of this idiot, but he held back, knowing that he just ruined his life and Jack hoped that the rest of it would be dreadful.

-It was another two hours, close to midnight, when you finally stirred and you could hear several voices calling out your name as well as the sound of people crying.

-You felt numb, you couldn’t move anything, you tried to open your eyes, but everything felt so heavy, like you were being crushed.

-Like lightning, your body immediately flared with pain, a harsh groan leaving you as you tensed and instantly you gasped harshly, almost to the point of hyperventilating as you felt like you couldn’t breathe, tears pouring out as the machines around you went crazy.

-You looked around, frantic, scared, you didn’t know where you were, you didn’t know what happened, the only thing that you could comprehend was the pain that seemed to ignite every inch of your body.

-Doctors and nurses rushed to you, ordering your family to leave except for Adam who refused to leave your side, holding onto you uninjured hand, trying to ground you.

-Those next ten minutes were pure torture for everyone, hearing your screams and cries of pain, the shouts of the doctors, the nurses running in and out until finally everything went quiet again.

-The doctors upped your morphine, to help deaden some of the pain, as well as to calm you down, as the shock from the pain sent you into a panic attack.

-Once deemed safe, your family was allowed to enter, Adam sat next to you on the bed, holding your hand carefully as you looked around, pupils blown out, showing you were loopy but awake.

-It hurt to talk so they all spoke for you, telling you what had happened, how you were injured, where you were, and that they caught the idiot who did this to you.

-You ended up spending almost three full weeks at the hospital before you were finally stable enough to go home with your family, who have all been constant visitors, almost to the point where they didn’t want to leave you.

-You had seen on the news that the kid who did this to you was going to prison for at the very least, twenty five years, you didn’t want to think about it but certain members of your family, Shiva, Lu Bu, Thor, Loki, Hades, Jack, and Beelzebub didn’t think prison was a good enough punishment.

-Once home, you had to adjust to being carried everywhere, at least until your legs healed, they didn’t want you walking at all, so if you wanted something, they either went and got it for you or carried you to what you wanted.

-They never once made you feel like a burden, each of them taking turns sitting with you, doting on you, helping you, but never making you feel like a burden.

-They were your biggest cheerleaders while going through physical therapy, constantly motivating you to do your exercises, and cheering with each milestone you hit with your recovery, never letting you give up, something you could never thank them enough for.

[andshedoesitagain]

Dishes & Kisses

Fred Weasley x Reader     Words - 1538

Warnings - Kissing, making out, really fluffy

Summary - You’re staying at the Weasley’s and Fred has some explaining to do. 

You had been more than happy when you had been invited to stay at the Weasleys house for a few days during the holidays, the red-headed bunch all as welcoming and cheerful as ever. It wasn’t the first time you had been, being friends with Fred and George since your first year at Hogwarts, but every time was still as exciting as the first, even if it was as equally chaotic, with everybody crowded into the cramped living room and around the table, chattering happily and loudly.

After everybody had finished eating, you hadn’t hesitated in offering to clear up, Molly was constantly rushing around doing one thing or another, and you were in no way going to deny the caring woman a break. Plus, it was already nearing midnight, and you had taken notice of the way everybody’s eyelids were starting to droop, as well as the hushed yawns slipping past their lips, all while you sat wide awake.

Although what you hadn’t expected was another volunteer, so when Fred stood up and made his way to your side you couldn’t help the small flutter in your stomach, a shameless smirk painted across his face as all the others raised a brow in question.

“Nothing wrong with a helping hand, hm?” The red headed boy retorted to his family’s look of doubt, to which Ginny quipped, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Yes, I’m sure you couldn’t wait to help with the dishes.” George snorted at Ginny’s remark, and Ron also tried to hide a giggle of his own. Glancing up to look at Fred, your own brows now furrowed, Fred hadn’t dropped his smirk despite the red hue across his cheek, although he did return your glance, murmuring for you to ignore them.

“Just keep your hands to yourself while you’re in the kitchen, okay?” George mocked.

Molly shook her head, lightly slapping George’s shoulder, “leave your brother alone, at least he was polite enough to offer,” she shot a kind smile your way.  Holding his shoulder, George wiggled his eyebrows while his eyes flickered between the two of you, mumbling. “Very polite of him.”

Trying to clear your throat, you looked to Ginny, a small ball of anxiety between your shoulders, as you thought back to what you had confessed to Ginny just hours earlier.

Placing your sleeping bag next to her bed, Ginny had been ranting about quidditch, something that wasn’t at all unusual but you were still happy enough to listen to her ramble, she seemed to glow proudly whenever she spoke of it and you couldn’t help but smile at her.

As you stood up and stretched, you dramatically dropped on to her bed, landing on your back with a bounce, while Ginny continued to talk, looking to you whenever she needed agreement on something.

Your conversation continued like that for a little longer until a familiar set of ginger twins popped their heads around from the doorway, “hello girls,” they said in unison.

Chuckling you replied, “hello boys.” Ginny mumbled out her own hello, as she stood up. “I’m just going to see mum about something, I’ll be back in a minute.” You nodded as she spoke.

George looked to you as she left, “Oh! I have to ask mum something too,” nudging Fred with a wink, he ran off with Ginny, them murmuring between themselves.

Putting his hands in his pocket Fred walked a little further into the room, “settled in okay?” he queried.

“Mhm it feels like coming home…don’t you dare say anything about how cheesy that sounded.” You warned, reaching out to him to help you sit up. Fred smiled in response, standing in front of you as he took your hands, slowly dragging you up into a sitting position, not dropping your hands even when you were up.

“I let the cheesiness slide, but only because it was cute.” Before you had a moment to process what he said Ginny and George emerged through the doorway, George dragging Fred away, him only then dropping your hand, George saying something his mum needing them, but you only just caught it as they rushed out the room, Fred catching your eyes with a wink as he disappeared.

Ginny plopped back down by your side, not saying anything as she stared at you. Laughing nervously, you spoke, “hi?”

Expression stoic, Ginny deadpanned, “you like my brother.”

Eventually all the Weasley’s all dragged themselves up the stairs, Ron and George exchanging whispers while looking back to their brother and then smiling innocently at you when you caught their stare. Until Molly came back quickly to pull them by their ears up the stairs.

Leaving you and Fred standing over the sink, a sponge in his hand and a dish towel in yours. You had been chatting at first, bumping hips gently as you passed dishes, although earlier had left you curious, his family’s strange behaviour dubious. “Um, so what was that all about?” You asked, a gentle chuckle following as you looked over to Fred who was washing a plate mindlessly.

Seemingly pulling him from his daze, his eyes snapped up to meet yours. “What do you mean?”  Your suspicion was only raised as he looked back to the plate, his own nervous chuckle bubbling to the surface.

Passing the wet plate to you, he tried to shake his shaggy hair from his eyes, “I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Fred replied, a grin grazing his lips as he looked over to you before once again shaking his head to move his hair.

Rolling your eyes, you placed the plate down and threw the dish towel over your shoulder, before pulling Fred by the arm to face you, soap bubbles trailing all the way up to his elbows. Softly you pushed his hair behind his ear without much thought, then placed your hands on your hips.

“You’re acting weird lately.” Fred seemed caught off guard by your statement, as he held out his wet hands in front of him, in a rare moment, seemingly speechless.

Though it didn’t very long for that moment to pass as he grinned again, “you’re completely clueless.” His tone almost seemed to be one of amazement, as he shook his head.  

“I’m clueless?” You repeated, as if you had heard him wrong.

Fred nodded, it was if there was a joke you weren’t in on as he looked you up and down, before he turned back to the sink, going to pick up another dish, chuckling to himself, while you were left baffled.

Biting your lip in thought, you went to turn around, ready to drop whatever was going on, but his words continued to play on your mind, so instead you faced him again. “Okay but how is it I’m compl---”

With the sound of a dish being dropped back into the water, suddenly all you could feel was two bubble covered hands placed on your face, and a pair of lips ghosting over your own. Your lips hadn’t entirely met just yet, as the red-heads nose gently grazed your own. Slowly you felt water from his hands drip down your neck, although you ignored it as you slowly let your eyes flutter closed.

Almost silently he whispered, “you seriously don’t know?” His breath fanning over your lips, you exhaled shakily through your nose, trying to find your words as you also tried to not to gasp.

“I have an idea now,” you replied not daring to open your eyes, his thumb rubbed along your cheek, as you leaned in just a little more, noses once again bumping.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He asked, not an ounce of teasing in his voice, which would’ve caught you off guard if had not been for how one of his hands had snaked down to your waist.

“More than anything.”

There was no more room for patience as he finally kissed you, holding you closer until you were completely flush against one another, both holding your breath tight in your chest. You found yourself grasping on to him by his jumper as you moved backwards, nearly tripping against the counter behind you, only kept steady by Fred.

Both of his hands now on your waist, you were lost in the kiss, he hadn’t lost an ounce of confidence, not breaking from your lips, as he absentmindedly pressed you against the counter.

Gasping against his lips you broke away for a moment, trying to breathe some air back into your lungs. Catching sight of how dishevelled Fred now looked, you couldn’t help but laugh softly, causing him to smile at you. “What?” He asked.

“You look like a mess, a hot mess, but definitely still a mess.” Leaning back, but still holding you at the waist he pursed his lips as he slowly scanned you up and down.

“I could say the same for you, definitely more hot than mess though,” he retorted, you could feel the water from his hands making it’s way down your top, as well as the damp marks where he was holding your hips, but you laughed nonetheless, not being to help yourself as you leaned back into kiss him.

//Hi! I hope you enjoyed this, I’ve had the idea for a little while, my requests are still open and I do all things Harry Potter and more so just ask!//

[jomamaofficial]

You should have said something: Finale (Bakugou x fem!Reader)

A/N: HELLO BESTIES, IT'S YOUR *lmao I just realised I wrote sentimental here instead of CRUSTY here* CRUSTY TOE HERE. Now please, for the love of whoever's up there, PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. I'm not going to dawdle along because this was the finale you all were waiting for, so enjoy. Social Media & LinkTree & Discord Server TW: Very gruesome descriptions of: Death, Burning, Heavy cursing, Blood, Abuse. Masterlist Taglist: @spicy-therapist-mom @speedmetalqueen @silentw-lkr @loki-an-idiot @clickbait-official @captainchrisstan @kamalymaly @idk-sam @runrabbitrun3 @power-house-fan12 @mrslawliet @memeingcheetah27 @lonleyweeb77 @midnight-storm Word Count: 1743

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Sirens flooded the scene, police cars blinding passerbys. Ambulances rushed to the location, paramedics pushing their way through the crowd of people, the heat travelling the smell of iron across the streets of Musutafu. Firefighters reached the estate, dragging people away from the hazard, eyes gawking at the uproar of fire. The house was engulfed in flames, crying voices piercing through the ears of those who looked on. Ashes here and ashes there, belongings erupting into soot and red embers.

A body was heaved onto the stretcher, blood staining the white cotton.

“The heart rate is lowering, I repeat the heart rate is lowering.”

The static noise from the walkie talkie was merely another addition to the tumultuous screams and orders.

Wind ran through his hair, panic stricken over the nurse's face who ran as fast as her environment could let her, the heavy but precious, bleeding body straining her arms and staining her hands.

The door was held open, commands being barked at her.

The reporters bombarded her, obstructing the nurse’s view. She shoved past them; her heart hammered in her chest inspecting the monitor, her movements speeding up as she reached her destination. The body was rushed into the ambulance, attached to pipes and machines.

It was the last thing the public saw before the door was shut and the sirens fled away.

Trending headlines and hashtags spread like wildfire.

Masaru switched on the TV, his wife finishing up her dinner in the other room.

“I am now live at the Bakugou-L/N estate. Word from our information team has come out and the fire has been going on for twenty minutes, however these twenty minutes were enough for Prohero Ground Zero to be sent to the emergency room after a local found him covered in burn marks and injuries inside his already smoking house. Prohero Y/HN is nowhere to be found and all forms of contacts have been shut off. I am now handing over to Tanaka-san who is live at the-”

Switched off. Masaru sat there glued to his seat with his fingers pressing on the power button.

-

Hope came crashing down and you could only stare at the broken screen of your phone, tiny glass particles spewed on the floor.

Your skin was boiling up but your blood ran cold. Your throat dried up but your tears were wet. You couldn’t feel anything but his nails, digging in through the layers of clothing you comforted yourself in.

If you could go back in time, you would have. If you could stop yourself from dialing Izuku’s number, you would have. Anything, anything would have been better than this.

Silence. And you still had the urge to cover your ears. There was nothing to look at apart from your only form of communication. Everything else was black. And the traitorous phone that gave you away was dissipating as well. It faded away from your sight, leaving you a wide smile on your face. Too wide. Stretching from one cheek to the other, your lips were quivering, forcing it to stop. But it didn’t stop. It was getting wider and wider and it was hurting but could you stop it? No.

You couldn’t stop anything. Not this marriage, not this moment, not your own body.

He pulled on your hair and you couldn’t even stop the pain. He crushed your face between his hands, searing pressure building up in your skull and you still couldn’t stop him. He shouted and he screamed and it was slowly seeping into your skull how loud he really was. Nothing would stop. You couldn’t stop it.

You were useless. Your shrieks were useless because he drowned them out with his own voice.

His words were barely comprehensible. You could either focus on the warm blood trickling down your hairline, or him.

But that took energy. And right now, trying to stay alive was sucking all of the energy out of you.

“YOU FUCKING BROKE RULE NUMBER THREE, YOU FUCKING WHORE.”

Rule number three spiked your interest. Not because you remembered what it was. It only drew your attention to him amidst all the repeated curses and the names and the agony, ‘rule number three’ was something new.

Why would you understand rule number three though, you couldn’t even understand why you were smiling, giggling underneath your breath.

“And out of all the people you could have gone to”, he sucked in a breath, squeezing your cheeks. He could feel your clenched teeth fighting against the strength of his hold.

“You fucking went to that useless cunt Deku”, Bakugou spat out, a crazed glint in his eyes as he felt your face shake and crumble under his grip.

“Where is he now huh?” he scoffed, a breathy laugh escaping from the depths of his body.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT PATHETIC BITCH NOW?” Screaming once again, he activated his quirk, missing you by a hair. The flames mocked you, free to move, free to grow.

“Is he gonna come and get you now? See your precious ‘Izu-kun’ anywhere?” he derided, smiling at the blackened area his palms left on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’M SORRY.”

Your tears said it enough, tears that were mixed in with the sweat and blood that dripped from your forehead. All you wanted was someone, someone who would hold you and stroke your head and clean you up. Someone who would take him away from you and let you live in a fantasy where you weren’t wrong anymore.

You apologized in the false anticipation that he would stop, and caress your face and pepper it in small kisses. You apologized in the false anticipation of thinking that’s what he needed all along. Just an apology.

So when he pushed you off of the sofa, your knees igniting in irritantance and bruises, you could only look at him. And when he crouched down in front of you, tilting your chin upwards, your heart almost fluttered at the thought that he would pull you into a kiss. A warm kiss where you would feel at home and feel loved.

The sad part was that you knew that you would forgive him if he kissed you once.

But the worst part was that you knew this would never happen. And it didn’t. But you were happy to live in your delusion. Because your delusion masked the sheer force at which he defiled your body.

The lethal blaze mirrored the lethal blaze that ignited his eyes. And this was the last time you’d ever see such hate, and animosity in them.

With your hands shielding you too late, all you saw was a blinding light shining through you, filling every crevice in your body with a scorching glow. But then it was extinguished by the darkness.

Alarms were going off in your head, telling you to breathe quickly and panic and scream and reach out and find something to see. And you did. And it entertained him.

So small and so vulnerable, scrambling around beneath him to try and escape. But he had you under his grip. And he wasn’t going to let you go until you remained lifeless under him.

Smoke infiltrated your lungs, forcing you to flail and writhe on all fours. You were heaving, trying oh so very hard to breathe in the oxygen that limitlessly surrounded you.

But you were useless. And you couldn’t breathe to save your life.

Coughing and slobbering, kneeling in front of him, you begged.

“Please, forgive me.”

“Please, I’m sorry.”

“Please, I didn’t mean to.”

“PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP. PLEASE JUST MAKE IT STOP.”

The fumes were stabbing at your throat, filling your head with fog.

And your world was running slowly. The noise was slowed, darker and deeper, slurred beyond understanding. The agony was slow; equally as painful, but slow. It gave you little breaks in between to piece everything together, bit by bit.

Growing up, your world was black and white: heroes were benevolent, there to serve the society and protect them whereas villains were malevolent, there to wreck the balance of society and harm them as they pleased.

Growing up, the first people you relied on were heroes. Even as the Number 3 Hero, Y/HN, you relied on your colleagues who worked day and night to ensure the safety of the country you served.

Maybe that was your downfall. Blindly trusting heroes as if they were some sort of untouchable deities who could never harm. Because here you were, taking the last few breaths with your world spinning around you and being snatched away from you.

And it wasn’t at the hands of a villain that you were dying. It was at the hands of your so-called superior, the Number 2 Hero: Ground Zero.

Ground Zero; the hero who everyone respected but feared. His snarl, his anger, his drive. The very hero who was found in every treacherous battlefield. He was the same hero who took on anything he found that threatened the life of the citizens he made his duty to protect from harm's way.

But who would take him on when he caused harm to you?

No one.

It wasn’t the smoke, or the burns, or the bleeding that caused you to take your last breath. It was the realization that no one would save you.

-

The pulse under Katsuki’s fingers diminished until it was nothing. And he cried. Veins standing out in livid ridges, his eyes seared in rage as they watered and dripped down his face, cooling his body in the circle of fire he put himself in.

If he wasn’t trained to suck his guilt up every time his hands were responsible for someone’s downfall, he would have been consumed in his own self loath…

But what was the point of feeling guilty when you deserved it?

It was because of you Eijiro broke up with him. And he internally promised himself he would always stand by this.

Blinking away his tears, he channeled all the remaining energy he had, letting his anger flow through out of his body.

His wrists were giving in but he swore it was the final time. Just one more blow. One more big blow.

Silencing his cries underneath the deafening roar of his explosions, he clenched his jaw, pressuring his body on and on.

No one would find you now. No one would know.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Deadbeat Pt. 3

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY 

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), smut, cursing, abandonment, infatuation, cheating/divorce, angst, mild housewife kink, mentions of prostitution, mentions of alcohol, corrupt official 

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

This is unedited, and I missed anything I should include as a warning let me know! This chapter introduces some new plots and conflicts, so it jumps around a little more than the previous ones. 

I hope you all enjoy!

I also am having some writer’s block with my Obi-Wan Kenobi miniseries I was working on, so expect Part 3 sometime Sunday hopefully! So sorry for the delay on the final chapter. 

Tags and Requests are OPEN 

Part One // Part Two 

Henry Curtis was one of the most infuriating people Lee had ever met. Curtis was a writer for the Columbus newspaper and constantly pestering the Sheriff. Curtis seemed to have a sixth sense for whenever the Sheriff did anything. He was desperately trying to catch the Sheriff doing anything but so far had remained unsuccessful. Curtis was the biggest obstacle Lee faced in winning re-election. The man would show up out of nowhere, pen and pad in hand ready to find anything that would be enough to keep the Sheriff out of office.

Maybe Curtis was just doing his job, but Lee always felt like it was much more personal. It was probably just his own resentment of the man who was just doing his job. But the man didn’t have to be so goddamn invasive. When the Sheriff had devised his plan on offering to rent a room from you, he was so tied up in his own mess of divorce and his somewhat confusing feelings towards you he had completely forgotten about the press. They would have a field day with the divorce alone, but now on top of everything else, Lee knew he should be more careful.

Lee always had to be careful, especially if he was meeting Leroy Brown. Lee would make sure he drove way out of town, and always insisted they met at a different location every time. This would infuriate Brown but Lee was the only lawman he had working for him. Sometimes Lee would drive several hours out of the way, always at some deserted ghost town or some sad excuse for a diner or a bar. Always somewhere no one would recognize him.

Lee lied to you and told you he and a few of the deputies would need to drive out of town for a stakeout when he needed to meet with Brown. It was one of those nights, sitting in the cruiser with the headlights off, as he parked in an abandoned parking lot almost two hours out of town.

He had been able to put this off for a couple weeks, lying about other legitimate jobs getting in the way. Honestly, it was because he wanted to one, avoid anything that would cause suspicion from Henry Curtis hearing he was back in town and two, he was selfishly allowing himself to just spend his nights at his new home, spending all the time he could manage with you. It was like being in that little white house was a place where he could let himself be delusional, and time spent with you was what his life actually was, not this mess he was currently dealing with. He wanted out.

Lee knew he wasn’t a good man. He knew that his laundry list of offenses had tarnished his badge a long time ago. He knew what he was doing, and before he never cared. Now, he’s thinking about how his actions could affect you. You were innocent, unaware of everything he was stuck in. He knew you weren’t stupid, and he was sure the town knows some about his corruption. But now, he couldn’t rationalize away his actions for any reason when it came to you. Janie? She didn’t care and would encourage it. She’d be in on it too. She’d have no problem lying to ladies at Church or starting other rumors to keep the town talking about anyone but Lee. She was as power hungry as he was sometimes, which could be a testament as to how their loveless marriage held together for so long.

***

“Hi, I’m looking for a Ms. (Y/L/N)?” the man asked when he approached you, talking a seat at one of the barstools.

“Who’s asking for her?” you asked raising an eyebrow.

“I’m Henry Curtis, I work for the Columbus Dispatch.”

“The newspaper?”

“That’s the one.”

“Why are you looking for her?”

“I’m doing a story on her mother’s marriage to Harvey Tucker.”

“She’s not here tonight. But I can let her know you were here. Do you got a card?”

The man pulled out a business card from his wallet and slide it across the bar. You picked it up and read all the information before putting it in the pocket of your apron.

“Seems weird for the Columbus paper to want to do a story on that a month and a half after it happened,” you said skeptically.

“We did cover the story when it happened,” Curtis informed you. “Doing a follow up since the story broke about his wife missing.”

“Missing?” you ask. “Do they know what happened?”

“Robbed the bastard blind and then ran apparently,” Curtis said casually looking past you at the chalkboard on the wall. “Scotch, neat.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, grabbing the bottle from the shelf. “Has anything else been found out yet?”

“Not yet, that’s why I’m here. Checking in to see if she’d come back here because I heard Ms. (Y/L/N) still lives around these parts.” He then pulled a newspaper out of the inside pocket of his coat and started flipping through the pages.

“She has another kid too, right?” you asked, playing dumb. “A boy, I think. Do you know where he is?”

“Couldn’t say,” he sounded very indifferent, “Most likely went with her but who knows? I went to the Sheriff’s office to see if they knew anything but the Sheriff wasn’t there.”

“That’s too bad,” you say. “I’m sure Sheriff Bodecker would help you help if he can.”

Your statement made Mr. Curtis chuckle, but you didn’t follow up on it. You were just focusing on getting as much information about your mother and brother as you could.

“Speaking of Mr. Bodecker,” he began, “I recently saw his wife is getting remarried. Saw the announcement of the engagement in the paper.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” you respond, skeptically. You didn’t know why but you didn’t trust this man. It was something in the tone of his voice, or maybe it was just how he held himself. Very polished, a suit and a nice dress jacket. He looked very out of place in this town, and this little bar.

“You familiar with the Sheriff at all, miss?”

“Not too well,” you shrug, “Haven’t had any run-ins with the law myself.”

“Not even a speeding ticket?” He asks, only a little condescendingly.

“Can’t get a speeding ticket if you don’t have a car,” you point out.

“Touché,” he chuckles before taking a sip of his drink.

He doesn’t ask you anymore questions, and when he leaves, he gives you a five-dollar tip.

***

Lee receives his cut from Brown. There was nothing new to report on that front and his meeting went by smoothly. All Lee had to do was to turn a blind eye, and make sure the rest of the department stays unaware of the brothel’s existence. Brown always insisted on meeting with him, wanting to know what the Sheriff’s department was investigating and making sure his businesses stayed under the radar. He felt sick, and is preoccupied with the fact he has an envelope of dirty money in the cruiser’s glovebox.

It’s around midnight when he pulls up to the house. He expects that you’re already asleep, but he notices the lamp is on in the living room. He takes the money out of his glovebox and tucks it away into the inner pocket of his jacket. Coming inside, he finds you on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, staring at the business card Mr. Curtis had given you. You face is stained with dried up tears, and you still haven’t even changed out of your work clothes.

“What’s that?” he asks, the sight of you breaking his heart. He winces because he comes off a lot harsher than he meant.

“Some reporter came while I was at work wanting to talk to me,” you explain softly, you sound exhausted. “Wanted to talk to me cause he’s doing a story on my mother. Apparently, she’s on the run from the Columbus police.”

You extend your hand to give Lee the card. He feels his jaw clench when he reads the information. “What happened?” he asks, taking a deep breath and sitting down next to you.

“I pretended I wasn’t me,” you say, another tear rolling down your cheek. “He came in asking for me so I said I’d pass his card on. I didn’t want to tell him who I was because he didn’t explain why he was looking for me at first. I don’t know- just scared me. I’m more upset about the news itself than him.”

“You did the right thing,” Lee said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder comfortingly. He was angry, but he didn’t show it. It worried him, fucking Curtis snooping around this close to you. It made him feel protective, wanting to shield you from the whole ordeal. He had been on the receiving end of unsolicited attention from the press and he knew how ruthless they were. He knew this wouldn’t be the only time Curtis would try to get in touch with you. He’d find out where you lived, he’d continue to show up while you were working- the whole nine yards. He didn’t want you going through that.

Curtis talking to you also made him incredibly paranoid. It was his two worlds that he desperately wanted to keep apart were colliding. He knew it was impossible, but he so wanted to keep you separated from the other part of his life. It wasn’t who he wanted you to see. Hell, he hasn’t even been here for a month. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep you in the dark, at least that wasn’t entirely intentional. Actually, he wasn’t sure, maybe it was intentional. However, it wasn’t just you he wanted to hide aspects of his life from. He wanted his involvement with Brown and others hidden from every goddamn registered voter. You were no different, he tried to rationalize. But that wasn’t true. These feelings he harbored for you, were getting worse. He needed to unwrap himself from this situation, and for the sake of you finding out he was a shill, keep you away from that asshole. He didn’t want to let himself think about how the way you look at him would change.

And here he was, making the situation all about him. It was in his nature.

“He’s just going to show up again if I don’t call him,” you say, wiping your eyes. “Maybe I should just call him in the morning. Just be honest and say I don’t know anything. He can keep coming around but nothing is going to change.”

“I can take care of it,” he says. He couldn’t risk you talking to Curtis again. For all he knows, Curtis would tell you all about the story on the Sheriff he’d been trying to confirm for years. Lee knew he couldn’t let that happen. He fully intends on telling you, but how the hell do you bring that up? ‘Hey doll, I’m also on the payroll of every pimp and bootlegger in a ten-mile radius, just letting you know.’ It wasn’t going to come up, unless Curtis tells you about it. He’d be hoping to pull himself out if it, show you how you made him want to be better.

For now, he settles for comforting you, and just being there to take care of you. Make you feel better. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and lets you cry into his chest. He sighs, kissing the top of your head in a friendly way and you curl up against him. Under different circumstances, you probably wouldn’t have let yourself do this- show your vulnerability or allow anyone to comfort you like this. But it was all the events of the past month, your mother leaving, everything, just all hitting you at once, and you were happy you weren’t alone.

In the morning, you wake up on the couch with a blanket over you. You see Lee asleep in the chair, and you realize he stayed with you all night. It makes your heart flutter. You pull the blanket up over your chin and close your eyes again. You felt surprisingly well rested. The stress and worry were pushed to the back of your mind long enough to let you get some sleep. It still lingered in the back of your mind, but you reminded yourself that for now, there was nothing you could do. You had the day off, and you let yourself have a little longer time to sleep in.

You woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and the sound of sizzling on the stove. When you opened your eyes, Lee was no longer in the chair. You sat up and looked toward the kitchen, where you saw Lee with his back to you while he worked with the pans on top of the stove. The portable radio was positioned on the counter, and it was playing at a low volume, so it wouldn’t wake you up.

“Hey,” you say softly, still waking up as you walk into the kitchen.

“Morning, doll,” he says, glancing back at you for a moment. “How’re you feeling?”

“A little better,” you admit, grabbing a mug for yourself out of the cabinet. You pour yourself a cup of coffee, savoring the smell before making it how you usually take it. “Thank you for sitting with me,” you say honestly, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he says with a small grin. “I just wanted to help.”

“I really appreciate it, Lee,” you reiterate your thanks, hopping up to take a seat on the counter, watching him cook breakfast. “Didn’t know you knew how to cook,” you joke, making him chuckle.

“I’m full of surprises, sweetheart,” he smirks, making you feel flushed. You take another drawn out sip of your coffee to try to distract yourself. You watch his arms, and his hands as they maneuver and flex when he cooks. You imagine how they must feel, your eyes focused on the veins. You bit your lip and it reminds you of the dream you had a little while back when he first moved in. You imagine him stepping in between your legs as your propped up on the counter, his hands gently gripping your thighs and-

“I’ll get it,” you announce hurriedly as you hear someone knock on the front door. You hop off the counter careful to not spill your coffee, and head to answer the door. Lee watches you bounce out of the room, fixing your hair as you go and you don’t catch his smile.

“Arvin,” you say surprised, stepping out onto the porch. “What are you doing here?” you ask, with a small grin. You’re confused but nonetheless happy to see him.

“You look like you’ve been crying,” he observes, concern written all over his face.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say dismissively, “Just last night I was thinking about my ma and everything. Just had trouble sleeping is all.”

“The Sheriff didn’t do anything?” Arvin asked in a hushed tone, looking over your shoulder to see if Lee could hear you two.

“No, nothing, he’s been perfectly fine,” you say coming to the Sheriff’s defense. “I know you and Ms. Russell are worried, I know how it must look- but Arvin I swear he’s just my tenant. He’s been nothing but a gentleman.”

“Just making sure,” he says, letting it go for now. “Lenora asked me to bring these by for you.” He hands you the glass baking dish that you can see is filled with homemade cinnamon rolls. “She’s been practicing making all kinds of baked goods for when the Church does that bake sale and has me running all over town giving it away cause me and Uncle Earskell can’t keep up with it all.”

“Tell her thank you for me,” you say with a smile, “And I’ll bring the dish with me to Church tomorrow- give it back to her.”

“She misses you I think,” Arvin says sheepishly, pushing his hands into his front pockets. “I mean- I do- I think my whole family does- we all do. I’m sorry my grandmother hasn’t asked you over in a while…”

“I understand,” you nod. “Reputation is an important thing.”

“I just didn’t want you to think it was because of us,” he says looking down at the porch, his eyes fixed on a loose board. “You know how she is- everything no matter the context is somehow a sin. Scared to death of her own shadow…”

“I know you’re not that resentful, Arvin Russell,” you chuckle and he relaxes. “And I don’t hold any hard feelings towards anyone in your family- you all have always been good to me.”

“Well, um,” he says awkwardly, looking like he was holding back from saying more. “I got to hit a couple more houses before I head to work, so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at Church?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Oh- I wanted to let you know,” he says, turning around as he’s already heading down the front steps, “The principal down at the high school is looking for secretaries- Lenora heard and thought you might be interested. It pays like $35 a week, I think. You should call Linda Carson; I think Lenora said- that’s the woman who’s in charge of hiring people, I think.”

“I’ll call the school first thing Monday morning,” you say, grin stretching from ear to ear. Arvin nods and says goodbye again. You walk back into the house like you’re on top of the world. You couldn’t contain your excitement. That job if you could get it would be a dream. You’d be making so much more than you’re already making. You were so excited.

“You’re in a much better mood than when I last saw you,” Lee jokes. He’s sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper while he eats his breakfast. You notice that he made you a table setting- brought your coffee over and everything. You place the baking dish in the middle of the table and sit down.

“That was Arvin,” you say happily, and Lee feels his heart sink into his stomach.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, trying to not let on how his heart feels like it’s crushed. He knew it was only a matter of time before a boy would come around- whether it be Arvin or someone else your own age.

“Well, first he was just dropping off baked goods Lenora made,” you say gesturing to the dish on the table. “He’s going around to everybody, I guess. He mentioned the high school is looking for office secretaries- Lenora wanted me to know. Thirty-five dollars a week! I’m going to talk to Linda Carson about it Monday morning. Can you imagine? I could get a secretary job.”

Lee feels just a crash of relief wash over him. He’s so happy that you are looking at a new job. You deserve better than that bar. He knew you deserved the job just as much as any of the other candidates. You work harder than anyone he knows.

“That’s fantastic, sugar,” he replies. “You deserve it.”

“Do you think I have a chance?” you ask, feeling a little self-conscious- you knew you weren’t as experienced as other candidates would be for sure.

“Of course, I do,” he says, putting down the paper to give you his full attention. “I feel like you getting this job is a definite. There’s no doubt about it.”

“You’re just buttering me up,” you scoff, finishing up your food, making him chuckle. You may have also seen his cheeks redden, but you couldn’t say for sure. You finish off your coffee, and then bring you dishes back to the kitchen, leaving them in the sink. Lee turns his attention back to his newspaper and you head upstairs to get ready for your day.

When you head upstairs, Lee notices that you took the radio with you- and he could hear you were listening to music from upstairs. He decides before it’s too late to ring Mark Cunningham. The line rings a couple of times before Mark answers.

“Cunningham.”

“Morning, Mark. It’s Sheriff Bodecker,” he smirks.

“What can I do for you Sheriff?” he asks, the sound of shuffling paper comes through as well. Most likely flipping through the paper.

“I wanna call in that favor you owe me,” he says, casually pacing the living room, holding the receiver up to his ear and the base of the rotary phone in the other.

“Of course, Sheriff,” he says. A while back, Bodecker busted the principal making moonshine in his old barn that was at the end of his property. Lee looked the other way and was waiting for the right thing to call in a favor for.

“I want you to hire (Y/N) (Y/L/N) for the secretary job,” he says, looking to the stairs, making sure you aren’t coming. The music is still playing loudly from upstairs so he determines he’s still got time.

“That’s all?” Mark asked surprised.

“That’s all I want from you,” Lee replies. “I expect you can make that happen?”

“Without a doubt. When can she start?”

“Still have her come in for an interview. I don’t anyone else knowing I called you about this- including her.”

“Done.”

With that, Lee hangs up the phone, feeling really good about this decision. He knew how much that job meant to you- he could see it in your eyes and how excitedly you talked about it. He can’t wait to see you when you find out you get the position. He knows it’s going to make you so happy. He knows you’d be a fantastic candidate, but this just eliminates any doubt. He reasons that there isn’t much difference, since you were very likely to get it anyways. He just had to make sure.

He can picture you know, coming home from the interview- excited to tell him that you got the job. You’d be so excited you’d jump up and hug him tightly, just so overjoyed that you let your feelings take over. You’d wrap your legs and around his waist and he’d hold you up by holding the back of your thighs. You’d wrap your arms tightly around him and bury your head in the crook of his neck. You’d lift your head up to look at him, embarrassed at your actions and then he’d press his lips to yours. You’d gasp softly, but your lips would melt against his own and your arms would wrap tightly around his neck. He’d walk forward, pressing you up against the wall and he’d kiss your neck mumbling praises of congratulations against your skin as his name falls from your lips at how good he’d make you feel. It’s almost unbearable how bad he wants you.

He heads to him room to get ready for his day, but his mind is still clouded with thoughts of you. He thinks about how much he wants nothing more that to just pin you on his mattress. He wonders if you know how crazy you make him. Sometimes there’s something in your eye that makes him think you want him too, but he’s not sure. His better judgement holds him back from everything he wants to do. He thinks about how it must feel to have his head right in-between your thighs. Back in the kitchen together, he wanted to just get on his knees and worship you. The feeling of them pressing against him as he sucks on your clit and runs his tongue across your folds.

Serval hours later, he can’t shake the thoughts, even sitting in his office at the sheriff’s station- working on a Saturday yet again. He’s cooped up in his office, unable to get through any of the paperwork that has piled up on his desk. He’s thinking about you, again, but in this daydream, you’re bent over his desk- because you came by to see him on your break from work at the school. His office door locked and his blinds pulled so he can bend you over and take you right there- rough and fast, sending you back to work with a feeling of him still there between your legs well after you’re back at your own desk, still sore from the encounter.

“You got a visitor, Lee,” the intercom on his desk lights up.

“Send ‘em in,” he responds back, shaking his head to snap out of it. He needed to get a grip.

“Sorry I didn’t call,” you say, walking into his office. His eyes widen and he wonders if he’s still day dreaming. He discreetly pinches himself. You’re actually here, standing in his office, while he looks at you dumbfounded. Part of him would think he manifested it if he was a man of any faith. “You forgot this,” you say, putting his wallet on the desk. “You must have taken it out of your back pocket before falling asleep in the chair last night. It was laying on the coffee table. I figured I’d stop by with it while I was coming up this way anyways.”  

“You’re a doll,” he grins, putting his wallet in his back pocket. “What are you doing?”

“I took the bus to the library to return some books, and now I’m going shopping for something to wear when I go in for an interview since I have the day off to go,” you explain. “I’m also probably going to get lunch after that before heading back home. I just didn’t want to be home in case that reporter stopped by. I’m not ready to talk to him yet.”

“I can take care of it,” he says, “He’ll make his way over here soon enough. I can talk to him.”

“You would do that for me?” you ask, the relief evident across your whole face.

“Yeah, I can talk to him, let him know you gave a statement here,” he says. You nod. “You know as much as he does, so it doesn’t matter if I tell him you don’t know shit or if you tell him.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you sigh, so relieved thinking that you won’t have to hear from Henry Curtis again. “If he tells you anything about them… will you let me know?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you say, hurriedly walking over behind him and quickly hugging his shoulders. You then are back by the door again before he can register the gesture. “Are you going to be home tonight?” you ask, your hand on the doorknob.

“Not until late,” he says reluctantly, and he can see the disappointment on your face- unless his mind was playing tricks on him.

“Okay,” you say finally, “Um, I’ll see you later then.”

“Bye, doll,” he says when you walk out of his office.

Are you going to be home tonight? Your voice lingers in his head. It was such a harmless phrase that could’ve just been one of curiosity. Maybe you were just asking because you were thinking about what you were doing for dinner. It most likely just meant nothing. But, the look on your face when he said no makes him think otherwise. Did it mean you cared? That you wanted to spend time with him? You wanted to see him and be with him as desperately as he needed you perhaps? Just the phrasing itself makes his brain feel like putty. It’s like you’re waiting up for him. It’s like you share the house in a way that’s much more than just him renting a room from you. It’s like you’re his and he’s yours. It’s like saying our house… our home. The question was so intimate and implied so much more about how you saw him and what he was to you. He knew seeing him as how he saw you was next to impossible, but you saw him as more than the Sheriff and more than just the jerk living in your house.

Part Four

 Taglist:

@scar-is-bi @jiminlife2k18 @asylummaniac01​ @rosalynshields​ @charmed-asylum @jamesbuchananbuckybarnes1917 @alexandrathegreat3

[bi-bi-buckleydiaz]

deep breath, do your job | owen joyner

requested; yes! - Could you do a Owen x reader where the reader is Owens personal assistant while filming JATP and while they are filming the reader starts catching feelings for Owen but Owen is in a relationship. Owen and his girlfriend breakup and the reader comes over to comfort Owen and Owen confesses that the reason him and his girlfriend broke up was because of the reader.

word count; 6.4K ... yeah kinda got away from me there. longest fic i’ve ever written

warnings; language, implied sexual content but no actual sex or description thereof

a/n; lol, so i just wrote from 1AM - 4AM because i’m procrastinating my child dev. project thats due today that’s worth a quarter of my grade. i really didn’t mean for this to be so long so it’s probably not this good and the ending is a lil’ rough, but oh well. hope whoever requested this likes it. i kinda do even though it’s long and only slightly proofread.

“Owen Patrick Joyner! Get your ass into hair and makeup before - oh, um, okay oops. Sorry ‘bout that. Should have knocked. I’ll just - yep, i’ll just go.” 

You thought he’d be sleeping. It’s nap time for him anyway, so he should’ve been sleeping. Instead, your technically boss and definite crush, was on his trailer couch with a girl you’ve never seen before. Kissing her. Without a shirt. Yeah, you definitely need to get out of there. 

You’re quick to close his door and begin to walk back to the hair and makeup trailer to tell them Owen will be a minute. 

“Y/N! Hey! Wait up! It’s um, it’s not, well it is, but -” He grabs your arm, causing you to turn around and face him, which, big mistake. Abort. Abort. Turn around. His post make out face is something you did not want to see. Liar.  

“It’s fine Owen. What you do in your free time is not my, well, actually it is since i’m your PA, I just mean who - WHAT, what you do in your personal time, in your trailer, is not my concern. Just, you’re needed in hair and makeup like, an hour ago. So, yeah, just, get there.” You stumble over half your words and watch his face fall as you near the end of your spiel. When he lets go of your arm you’re quick to turn around and leave him alone, walking right past hair and makeup and to set where you can curl up in your chair and eat your weight in brownies, if Madi hasn’t taken them all that is. You hope he goes to get his hair done. You know you should walk with him there because if you’re not practically dragging him to where he needs to go he never gets there on time, as just witnessed. But it’s usually because he’s goofing off with Charlie, not sucking face with a random girl. 

You don’t notice the brownie in your hand has crumbled until a whistle comes from behind you. You turn around a little too quickly, sending the brownie bits flying to the floor. 

“Shit.” You kneel down to begin picking it up, another hand coming into help. Charlie, based on the rings adorning the fingers. 

“Is Owen’s keeper okay?” You huff a laugh at the name the cast gave you a week into filming. You’re the only one who has managed to keep Owen in line since filming started, the only reason he’s ever on time for anything or actually has real food in the apartment or has his drumsticks when needed, etc. etc. 

The boys didn’t want PA’s when Kenny proposed it during bootcamp, they were young adults, they didn't want to boss someone around, it felt wrong. But having more experience than the boys, Kenny vetoed how they felt and told them PA’s would help tremendously, especially on a project like this. That’s where you came in. You were trying to get into the directing and producing scene in Hollywood, you’re dream to be as good a director as Steven Spielberg or, well, Kenny Ortega. But you knew you had to start small, so you applied for a PA job on an upcoming Netflix show, getting hired within the week. Now here you are, a nineteen year old being in charge of another nineteen year old who acts more like he’s five. 

In the beginning, it was purely professional. You were nothing more than his PA who got him from place A to place B in a timely fashion. But then he started to rope you into pranks with the rest of the band. He started inviting you to movie nights, and adventures to the grocery store, and ice skating with Charlie and Madi, and somewhere between helping him keep his life in order and watching him fall on his ass at the ice rink, you fell for the blonde. You know it’s a mistake, falling for him. You work for him. He’s your friend. That’s all he sees you as, but you couldn’t help it. But you’re good at compartmentalizing, so you took all the inappropriate feelings, shoved them in a box, locked the box, and hid it deep in your unconscious. You were doing well with ignoring the box, until you walked in on Owen kissing someone that wasn’t you. 

“I’m fine Charlie, just, stressed. Owen was an hour late to hair and makeup so I kinda feel like a shit PA right now.” Charlie chuckles and hugs you as you both stand up. 

“Please Y/N, you’re the best PA. If it weren’t for you, Owen would never know where anything is, including his head.” You laugh into his shoulder, reveling in the hug for a few more seconds. When you part, you see a flash of blonde enter the set and sigh in relief. He made it. He’s ready. You’re not fired today. 

Just incredibly confused and upset. 

But not fired.

“You better go, I know you’re in this scene with Owen.” Charlie nods and squeezes your shoulder once before running after Owen onto the set that holds Julie’s shed. Taking a deep breath, you try to push whatever the hell you saw ten minutes ago into your box, and get ready for the day ahead. 

Four hours, six brownies, and two cookies later, Owen is officially wrapped for the day, meaning you can go home and continue to eat your feelings in ice cream. You’re quick to grab your binder full of Owen’s schedules to drop tomorrow’s off at his trailer before he sees you. You’re not really in the mood to talk to him about what happened earlier, so you fast walk to his trailer, fully intent on just leaving the paper on his counter where he’ll see it, but a brown haired, green eyed girl throws that plan right out the window. 

You’re so stupid. You should’ve known she would still be here. Waiting. 

“Oh, um, hi.” She says. She sounds nice. She looks nice. But when you look at her all you can see is her hands in Owen’s hair and his lips on hers. 

“Hi.” You don’t know how, but you managed to put on a smile and put a little pep into your voice. “I’m Ashley. I’m waiting for Owen. Is he done?” You nod, not trusting your voice as you stand awkwardly in the doorway, one foot on the step the other in the trailer, hand outstretched ready to place the schedule on the table. 

“He just wrapped for the day. Should be here in a few.” The girl - Ashley - nods. 

“You’re Y/N, right? His personal assistant?” How does she know that. She giggles, “He talks about you all the time. Says the only reason he’s not fired or dead in a ditch is because of you.” OH, you said that aloud. Coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoo-

“Y/N! What are ya doing just standing in the doorway?” Fuck. You put a smile on and turn around. He’s smiling softly at you, still in Alex’s clothes, twirling those damn drumsticks around his fingers. 

“Um, just dropping tomorrow’s schedule off. Here. Okay...bye.” You walk down the steps, letting the door shut behind you, fully intent on leaving, but Owen grabs your arm again, just like earlier, causing you to stop and turn to look at him. 

“Wait. Can we talk real quick. About...earlier?” No. No absolutely not. 

“Um, I really have to go. I have a lot to do tonight for tomorrow.” Owen sighs and lets go of your arm, face contorting into that of a sad puppy. 

“Just, one minute Y/N. Please. Let me explain.” Screw him and his perfect freaking face. 

“A minute.” His face lights up and grabs your hand, leading you back into his trailer, smiling even wider at seeing Ashley sitting pretty on the couch. 

“Y/N, this is Ashley, my girlfriend.” Ashley smiles and waves, standing up to stand by Owen and grab his hand. A rock settles in your chest at the word. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

“Nice. I’m Y/N. But you knew that. Just like you also know I’m in charge of getting him to places on time. Which didn't happen today.” Owen’s face flushes at that while Ashley terribly hides a smirk behind her hand. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that Y/N. She surprised me today. We weren’t supposed to see each other until Thanksgiving but she finished classes early and flew out to surprise me. Kinda got, caught up in -” His face is beat red so you’re quick to cut him off. 

“It’s fine. Just, try not to get ‘caught up’ tomorrow, yeah?” It’s harsh and full of hostility, but you want to leave, the word still bouncing around in your head, swirling around the scene you walked into earlier. 

Girlfriend. 

Kissing. 

Girlfriend. 

Flushed face. 

Girlfriend. 

Kissing. 

“I have to go. See you tomorrow on set at 5 Am. Got it? Five A M. Don’t make me break into your apartment again. I almost got arrested for that.” Owen is still reeling from your harsh words said a second ago to laugh at the memory. Ashley however, has no qualms about speaking up. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s here on time.” She smiles and wraps around his arm like a koala. You hold back a scoff, throwing up a fake smile before turning and leaving. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

It’s almost midnight.

It’s 11:48 PM and someone is knocking on your door. 

Who the fuck is pounding on your door at near midnight. 

You shuffle to the door wrapped up in your comforter, wiping the sleep out of your eyes. You don’t bother looking through the peephole, too angry at the person behind the door to bother, just wanting to yell at them and get back to bed. 

“What the - Charlie?” He looks exhausted, hair ruffled and eyes puffy. He’s in joggers, a random band tee and his denim jacket. You’re pretty sure his shoes are on the wrong feet. 

“Can I stay the night?” He doesn’t wait for your response before walking into your apartment, flinging his shoes and jacket off and walking to your room. You sigh, ignoring the way he just threw his stuff around and instead follow him to your room before he takes your side of the bed. You walk in just as he chucks his shirt off and woah. You were so not expecting that. An explanation as to why he’s here at midnight? Yeah. Him taking your side of the bed? Definitely. But not Charlie taking his shirt off and crawling onto the right side of the bed and curling around a pillow. You take a moment to collect yourself and your thoughts before crawling into bed next to him, making sure to drape the comforter over him as well. He hums in content and turns around to face you. 

“Sorry for barging in like this. Just, ugh, Owen and that girl are not quiet if you catch my drift.” And it’s like the rock in your heart is now a boulder and it’s crushing your ribcage. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. You’re frozen, staring at Charlie’s half asleep face. “Like I get it, you’ve missed each other. But c’mon bro I’m there too.” He keeps talking. Keeps pushing the boulder until all the ribs crack and puncture your lungs. “There’s somethings in this world I never wanted to hear, and Owen moaning was one of them.” He won’t shut up. Charlie shut up. You’re entire chest is fracturing, breaking at his words and he needs to shut. up.

“I didn’t really know where else to go, but I remembered how comfy your bed was last movie night so, here I am.” His voice is raspy, words slurring as he’s trying to fight sleep to explain to you why he’s here. But you can’t focus on him right now. Can’t think about a shirtless Charlie in your bed. There’s only one thing you can think about right now. 

Girlfriend. 

Shirtless. 

Girlfriend. 

Kissing. 

Girlfriend. 

“Thanks for letting me crash by the way. I’ll try not to kick you in my sleep.” He chuckles, then finally opens his eyes when you don’t laugh back. You don’t know how you look right now. You know you’re frozen. But is the panic and pure sadness showing on your face? It must be, because suddenly Charlie is wide awake and leaning up on his elbow to look at you fully. “Y/N are you okay?” He’s worried. You want to tell him you’re okay. It’s fine. Everything is fine. But you can’t move. You can’t talk. Because reality is crushing you. It’s ripping up your heart, suffocating you, consuming your mind. 

Owen isn’t yours. 

Owen will never be yours. 

You’re just a friend. 

You’re just his PA. 

That’s when the tears finally start. They come slowly, one trailing down your cheek, then another. Then all at once your sobbing into Charlie’s chest, no doubt getting snot all over him. But he doesn’t seem to care. He just starts to hum some random song while he repeatedly runs his hand over your hair, the other holding you close to him. He keeps humming, his chest vibrating and giving you something to focus on that isn’t your depressing thoughts. It’s almost soothing, the petting and the hug and the humming. 

You don’t know how long you sob into him, but when you stop, his humming stops too. He still holds you close, just lets go of your head so you can lean back a little and look up at him. He’s brows furrow in concern and he pouts at your post-crying face. 

“Are you okay? Am I really that bad of company?” He tries for funny but you can’t bring yourself to laugh with him. Just pout and push his semi-wet chest. “Seriously Y/N, i’ve never seen you like this. What’s wrong?” Those two words. 

What’s wrong?

What’s wrong? I fell for my boss and now he’s doing it with some girl and I can’t stop thinking about them and it’s killing me because before I could live with being his friend and PA because at least there was some sliver of a chance but now there’s nothing because he has someone and I have no one and I can’t breathe because oh my god I love him. I love that stupid fool and i’m nothing but his personal assistant. 

It’s quiet for a minute, too quiet, and that’s when you realize you said all that out loud. You look up at Charlie, which was a mistake because his face is full of pity. It’s all sad puppy eyes and “Shit Y/N i’m so sorry.” A fresh wave of tears make their way out of your eyes, but Charlie is quick to wipe them away. 

“Y/N I didn’t know I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have said all of that, God I was so stupid.” And then it’s like a whole new flood gate opens, this one full of laughter though. You start with a chuckle, but soon it’s full out belly laughing. Because Charlie isn’t the stupid one here. “I’m the stupid one. I mean, how idiotic does a PA have to be to fall for the one they’re in charge of? Never mix work with pleasure. It’s PA-ing 101, don’t fall for your boss. I’m so fucking stupid to ever fall for him or think he’d like me back because i’m just his stupid PA who has no talent what so ever, never has a good hair day, can’t go a day without eating their weight in sugar, and will never see him again after filming is wrapped.” Your laughing dies down by the end, and then ends completely when you see the look on Charlie’s face. It’s not exactly pity, but it’s not exactly sadness either. It’s hard to describe what exactly it is, but it’s not good. 

“Y/N. Babes. I don’t ever want to hear you talk about yourself like that again, okay? I swear to God next time I hear anything like that come out of your mouth again, I’m hitting you with a pillow.” You giggle, but he stays serious. “Dead ass Y/N. Listen, was it probably not the smartest to fall for Owen? Yeah. But you didn’t know he had someone. I didn’t even know he had a girl and I’m his roommate. But, we can’t help who we like. It’s all brain chemistry and heart palpitations and whatever else. It’s something we can’t control. So don’t say you’re stupid because of something you can’t control.” 

“You’re being really smart and caring for twelve am.” You both chuckle, a real smile gracing your face for once in the past twelve hours. 

“I’m sorry for the breakdown it’s just, there’s a lot in my head right now and what you said really didn’t help.” Charlie sighs and pulls you in close. 

“I’m sorry babes. You should’ve slapped me or something.” 

“I probably would’ve had the breakdown at some point tonight anyway.” Charlie pulls back a bit to look at you, confusion on his face. “I kinda walked in on them making out earlier when Owen was late to hair and makeup.” 

“Is that why you crushed that brownie earlier?” You sigh and nod. 

“Y/N, i’m sorry. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.” 

“It’s fine Charlie. It’s, well, it’s not but, I’ll get over it. I’m a big girl. Besides, I have you to get my tears and snot all over right?” He groans while you giggle, but he isn’t really mad if the way he pulls you close and rests his face in your hair is any indication. 

“Always babes.” 

The next day you drive to set with Charlie who didn’t have to be on set at five like Owen, but joined you nonetheless. Taking his duty as your new ‘heartguard’ as he called it last night, you walk to hair and makeup with his arm around your shoulders. It’s comforting, even though he’s putting most of his weight on you because he’s exhausted, the coffee you gave him this morning clearly doing nothing to wake up. 

“Charlie, you could’ve stayed in bed until you were actually needed.” You laugh as he trips up the steps to the trailer, nearly face planting if it weren’t for you wrapping your arms around his waist last minute. 

“Char you good?” You hear BooBoo ask. Charlie grumbles something incoherent and shoves his face into your neck as you lean against the arm of the couch. BooBoo laughs, so do you, but quickly sober up when Owen walks in, Ashley on his arm. Charlie must have ESP or something because, without looking up at who walked in, he wraps his arms around your waist and murmurs in your ear, “Deep breaths. I’m here.” You do as he says, shooting Owen a friendly smile, but dropping it as he frowns at you. 

What is that about? 

“Glad to see you on time Owen. I wouldn’t have been able to break in this morning anyway because an octopus decided to break into my own apartment last night.” You ruffle Charlie’s hair as you say that and he grumbles some more, playfully biting your neck as well. “Ow. Asshole.” Owen frowns even deeper at that, while BooBoo chuckles. He get’s scolded a second later for moving. 

“So that’s where you disappeared to last night. I was wondering why you weren’t home this morning.” Owen’s voice is tight while he says it, Ashley noticing as well if the tightened grip on his arm is anything to go by. Charlie squeezes your waist as a way to say, ‘prepare yourself’ before he moves his head to lean against your shoulder so he can talk. 

“Yeah well, I wouldn’t have had to if you and your girl weren’t so freaking loud.” You tense up, mind starting to reel again, but a squeeze to your waist and a warm breath on your neck manages to bring you back. The trailer goes quiet, even the hair and makeup ladies tensing up and sensing the tension. Charlie, ever the wrong place, wrong time type of guy, grabs your hand and places it on his hair, then moves it back and forth. 

“Pet me.” Despite the tension in the room, you can’t help but giggle at the stupid Canadian boy wrapped around you. Apparently that’s all the rest of the people in the trailer needed to go back to what they were doing. That or they just didn’t want to get involved in young adult drama. You shoot a look at Owen, his jaw tense and hands clenched into fists. Completely ignoring the way Ashley leans up to kiss Owen’s neck, you open your phone and begin to read off his schedule for the day, your left hand still running through Charlie’s hair. 

“Hair and makeup at five AM, sit your butt down and let Shelly do her thing, costume fitting right after. First scene at six-thirty with BooBoo, you guys are doing the scene at the Orpheum where you talk about what’s been going on, you’re going to be sad so this whole frowny face you got going on? Keep it. A break after that then rehearsal with Charlie, Jer, and Mads for Stand Tall. Fitting for the Stand Tall suit is after that, but no actual filming for that scene yet, just getting the measures right so after that, you’re done for the day.” You take a deep breath after all that, BooBoo whistling at you from his seat. 

“You could be an auctioneer with how fast you talk.” You smile and bow your head at him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment Boo.” He shoots you a smile and then raises his hand to high five Owen as he sits next to him. Owen ignores him. In fact, he stays silent throughout all of getting his hair and makeup done. Only smiling occasionally when Ashley shows him a meme on her phone. You watch them, the boulder in your chest rolling around as you do so. But not for jealousy, no, for concern. Owen is acting very unlike himself. You may be upset right now, especially with him, but it doesn’t mean you still don’t see him as a friend; still don’t worry about him. Something is wrong, and you can’t help but feel like it’s your fault. 

“So did it work?” You jump in surprise at the voice behind you, the cookie in your hand crumbling and falling onto the table. 

“Charlie! What did I say about sneaking up on me?” You turn to look at the boy who is smiling too wide at you for you to think this is about to be a completely innocent conversation. 

“Did it work?” He’s practically vibrating where he stands.

“Did what work?” 

“The cuddling this morning? Didn’t you see Owen? He was totally jealous.” And - what? That’s why he was so touchy this morning? 

“I just thought you were tired, that was - you were trying to make Owen jealous? Charlie what the hell? He has a girlfriend!” Charlie rolls his eyes and loops his arm around yours, dragging you away from the cookies and towards the costume room. 

“Yeah, but we both know she shouldn’t be. And the way he was acting this morning? I think he’s starting to realize that too.” There’s no way...right? No, the way Charlie described last night...no. 

“No, okay, he was probably just tired and angry about having to be here so early.” Yeah, that’s it. He was not jealous of the friendly cuddling you and Charlie were doing. Totally...not. Holy shit. You hear Charlie giggling in your ear as you enter costume. 

There, in front of you, is a very shirtless, very toned, very pretty Owen Joyner.

“You’re welcome.” Then Charlie is off to God knows where. Leaving you alone with Owen. Well, not really alone since Soyon is here too, running around looking for different fabrics and textures to throw on Owen. A still very shirtless Owen. 

“Oh, hi Y/N. What are you doing here?” Owen asks, looking at you though the floor length mirror in front of him. He’s not smiling at you, but he’s not frowning either, so improvement from this morning. 

“Oh, um, just making sure you got here on time. And look at that. You did! Good job.” You clap, who knows why, but it makes Owen laugh, which, whew, okay. 

“Yeah, I reminded him.” A voice behind you says. You turn and look at Ashley walking in, coffee cup in hand. She bounces up to Owen, ignoring Soyon and placing a big, wet kiss onto his lips before moving to the couch off to the side. Owen seems shocked by the PDA, which makes sense, you know he’s not big on that, remembering one late night conversation you both had a few weeks ago. 

“Anyway, Y/N, how does this one looks. I think the ruffles are nice. And then when he’s performing Stand Tall we can,” and then she begins to unbutton the shirt all the way down to mid chest and okay, seriously Soyon, now you just want to torture me. 

“I like this.” Owen says, twirling in the mirror like a ballerina. This causes the shirt to fling open more, showing his chest more in the process.

Deep breaths. 

Be a friend. 

You’re a big girl. 

“Yeah. It’s good,” you say, walking over to him to tuck to the sides back together somewhat. “Are you going to keep with the pink theme for the jacket?” Soyon smiles and nods, walking away for a minute leaving you alone with Owen and Ashley. 

“Should it really be unbuttoned that much? I mean, it is a kids show? I don’t want to share my boy with fangirls.” Ashley says. You can’t stop your eyes from rolling or the scoff that leaves your mouth. You watch Owen’s Adam's apple bob as he gulps. 

“Please, Charlie is sleeveless for a majority of the show. Owen showing a little chest isn’t gonna hurt anyone. Besides, Soyon chose good. The way the shirt fits and settles it’s never going to open all the way. Unless, ya know, he twirls like some Carolynn Rowland wannabe.” You smile up at Owen and inhale sharply when you see he’s already looking down at you. “And with the jacket on it’ll stay put pretty well.” You’re still holding the shirt in your hands, looking at Owen’s face as you talk. For a second, it’s just you and him, looking at each other, smiling. Then Soyon comes back and clears her throat. The trance breaks and you back up. You wipe your sweaty hands on your jeans before backing up and standing next to the mirror. You feel eyes on you and look over to see Ashely glaring at you. 

“Here we go. One pink jacket to match.” Owen slides it on and smiles wide. You have to say, it looks good. Professionally speaking of course. 

“Soyon, have I ever said how freaking amazing you are. I mean, this is really good looking. Very Alex.” Owen praises. He’s smiling and it’s a nice sight after this mornings debacle. 

“Alex is going to be the best looking one on that stage.” Owen looks over at you, his smile still there, and the boulder shrinks three sizes. 

“Still think the shirt should be buttoned.” Ashley mutters. But everyone ignores her, even Owen, who does another twirl in front of the mirror. 

“Well then, you’re all set Owen. Go ahead and change and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Soyon leaves, going off to do costume designer things, leaving you alone with Owen and Ashley again. Owen takes the jacket off, then looks around not knowing what to do with it. You sigh and smile softly, taking it from him.

“Here, just give me all the clothes and i’ll take them back to your rack.” He smiles thankfully at you, before frowning again and looking down at his outfit. Getting what he’s thinking, you chuckle and cross your arms. “Bub I just saw you shirtless it’s not a big deal. Now c’mon, give me the clothes before Soyon thinks you’re stealing them.” Owen looks up at you in a way you’ve never seen him look at you before. It makes you take a sharp breath in.

“Maybe you should go. I can give the clothes to Soyon. Don’t you have assistant duties to do?” Ashley is right next to you as she says it. It makes your ears hurt and hands clench. You’re quick to unclench though, not wanting to wrinkle the nice pink jacket. Ashley moves forward to unbutton Owen’s shirt all the way, but he grabs her hand before she can begin. 

“Actually I need Y/N to stay. I have to talk to her about some, ya know, assistant stuff. And besides, she knows where Alex’s rack is and that’s where the clothes have to go. Why don’t you go wait for me in the trailer, I’ll be there in a few.” 

I need Y/N to stay. 

That shouldn’t make you feel as warm and tingly as it does. 

Ashley scoffs and looks away, clearly trying to guilt trip him. Owen sighs and kisses her cheek.  

“Trailer. Ten minutes.” Ashley sighs before nodding and finally leaving. He watches her go, then turns back to you when she finally disappears. You clear your throat and he looks back at you, face a bit red. 

“Um, hey.” You chuckle. 

“Hi.” He nods, and you sigh, walking so you’re right in front of him. “Seriously, O, you need to get this off because if they’re not on the rack for Soyon to fix up by the end of the day it’s my head on a stick, not yours.” Then you’re unbuttoning his shirt. 

You’re unbuttoning. His shirt. You don’t realize you’re doing it until you hand grazes his navel when you untuck it from his pants. You hear him suck in a breath and you immediately take two steps back. 

“Sorry, um. Sorry that was not, um, -” 

“It’s okay. You were just, doing your job. Making sure I get stuff done on time, right?” But his voice is wobbly as he says it and his face is as red as a tomato. You couldn’t have made him that flushed, not you? 

“Right. Yeah. Um, so, pants?” Owen looks at you with wide eyes. “I need to take the pants back too.” It’s quiet, but you know he heard you because he nods his head and begins to unbutton them. You suddenly feel very hot, very suffocated. You should’ve left when you had the chance, just let Ashley do this. You shouldn’t be here, watching as he pulls the velvet pants down his legs. Watching as he steps out of them and - oh God he’s falling. You grab his hand to help him but it’s too late, you both tumble to the ground. You’re on top of him, smushed up against his bare chest, faces centimeters apart, sharing breaths. 

“Sorry.” You mumble. You watch him gulp and look down. Down at wha - oh. 

“It’s, it’s okay. I’m the one that fell and pulled you down.” You nod, causing your nose to brush against his. You’re close, so freaking close that if you were to move not even a full centimeter, your lips would touch.

So. 

Close. 

“What. The. Hell!” SHit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

You’re quick to scramble away from Owen, butt scooting across the floor to get as far away from him as possible. Owen jumps up, kicking the pants away then realizing that was probably not a smart idea because now he’s half naked in between Ashley and you.  

“Ash I -” 

“You were taking forever, wanted to know why. Thought you said there was nothing between you two?” She’s practically screeching. You know within minutes there will be a crowd. A crowd Owen will not want, his anxiety will not want. Ignoring his stuttering and the conversation in general, you push away the heat in your belly and the tingling in your spine and take a deep breath. 

Deep breath. 

Be a friend. Do your job.

You grab Owen’s clothes and put them in his hands, ignoring his speaking and Ashley ranting, you grab his hand and then hers, and shove them towards the back exit. 

“This is a trailer conversation, not a wardrobe fitting conversation. Leave, now.” 

“No, I have a lot to say -” 

“Listen to me, I’m trying to do my job and not get Owen in trouble. If you really care about him, you’ll take this conversation to his trailer. Now.” Then you shove them out the door before Ashley could screech some more. 

Deep breath. 

Do your job. 

You go back to the fitting area, only to see Charlie, Jer, and Madi standing there, looking confused. 

Deep breath.

Do your job.

“Hey guys. Owen just left. He and Ashley are having a date night.” Charlie gives you a look, but Jer and Madi nod, going to accept it, but Charlie has to open his big dumb Canadian mouth. 

“Why’d we hear screaming then?” Charlie questions. Jer and Madi look at each other, then back at you. 

“Oh, uh, mouse. I saw a mouse. Yep. Mouse. Anyway, I have to get this clothes hung up before they wrinkle, so excuse me.” 

Deep breath. 

Do your job.

You walk around the trio, gathering the suit and shaking everything out as you walk over to the Alex rack to hang them up. You hear the door to the room open and two sets of feet walking out. 

“Charlie, everything is fine okay? Just a little misunderstanding.” 

“Like?” You sigh and turn around from finishing hanging up the clothes. 

“Like...Owen kinda fell and when I went to help him I feel too...on top of him.” There’s silence then, 

“OH MY GOD! Y/N THAT’S LIKE FANFIC SHIT THAT WAS THE MOMENT! DID YOU KISS OH MY GOD TELL ME EVERYTHING!” He’s jumping up and down as he makes his way to you. 

“Ashley walked in.” All excitement stops.

“Oh shit.” You nod, walking past him to settle on the couch, pulling a pillow to your chest. 

“Yeah. And she started screeching and I knew Owen wouldn’t like to attention so I shoved them out the back door to his trailer.” Charlie’s arm goes around you, pulling you close. He goes to say something, but your phone ringing indicating a text from Owen stops him. You pull it out, opening it as Charlie watches over your shoulder. 

My trailer plz. 

Charlie starts shaking your shoulders, smiling like a maniac. “This is your chance Y/N go go GO!” you shake your head at Charlie’s antics, but leave nonetheless. 

Anxiety creeps up on you as you get closer and closer to his trailers, not knowing what you’re going to walk into. Him firing you? Saying you can’t be friends anymore? Ashley ready to claw your face off? 

Deep breath.

Be a friend.

You knock on his door. It opens a second later to a frantic looking Owen. Now you're anxious about him. Why does he look upset? Is he okay? He grabs your hand and pulls you into his, oh, empty trailer. Ashley is nowhere to be seen. 

“Hey, thanks for coming.” You nod, still looking around expecting her to jump out and slap you. “Um, sit. Sit, I have to talk to you about something.” You go to sit on the couch, but then remember what occurred there yesterday and instead lean against the counter. He notices but doesn’t say anything. 

“Yeah okay. What’s up?” You try to act nonchalant, but the anxiety is too high for that. ‘I have to talk to you about something’ never ends well. He walks over and sits on the bed pats the spot next to him. God, this can’t be a good conversation if he really wants you to sit. 

“Ashley and I were never...on here.” He mumbles. You walk over and sit next to him, blushing that he caught on to why you didn’t sit on the couch. 

“Must be serious if you need me to sit.” Owen takes a deep breath, another, another, and then there’s lips on your. They’re soft and nice and taste like carmex chapstick. 

“Mhm, Owen, what, what are you doing?” Your faces are still close together, both of you not wanting to back away yet. 

“I’m gonna talk. Okay I’m gonna talk and I want you to listen and not crawl inside your head too soon okay?” You nod, knowing in this moment you’d do anything to keep him this close. 

“I knew Ashley from high school. She started texting me a few weeks back and one thing led to another and she was calling me her boyfriend. I didn’t want it but it happened and I let it because it got my mind off a girl I shouldn’t like because it would ruin so many things. I didn’t know she was coming to visit and when she knocked on my trailer she jumped me and just kept going. And I just went along with everything yesterday because I’m supposed to be her boyfriend and I’m supposed to think about those things with her and I’m supposed to want those things with her, but I don’t Y/N. I don’t want those things with her I never did. I, I want them with you. I’ve wanted them with you from the moment you finally stopped being shy around me and dragged me from crafts by my ear to hair and makeup. You’re so amazing Y/N and I thought if I did anything I’d ruin this and ruin your career and I didn’t want that. I never wanted that so I went along with Ashley but I shouldn’t have because the whole time I was thinking about you. It’s always been -” You kiss him. You grab him by the cheeks and kiss him. It’s a passionate kiss, an ‘about time’ kiss, an ‘i’m never letting you go’ kiss. 

You only break away when you can’t breathe, and even then you only pull away enough to breath in each other’s air. 

“She left. She’s gone. She knew I was never 100% in.” You nod, but you’re not really listening. You can’t hear anything other than your heartbeat. 

He likes you. 

Owen likes you.

Owen kissed you. 

“It’s always been you, Y/N.” You smile. It’s a big one that you have to hamper down by biting your lip. Owen smiles back, then you’re kissing again. 

And again. 

And again.

[fanficshiddles]

My Sweet Rose, Chapter 3 (Last Part)

It took Loki a few days before he was able to get a chance to speak to Rosie again. She kept running from him whenever she saw him, not giving him a chance at all.

In the end, he got fed up of her running from him. So he teleported into her room when he knew she was there, to sort it out.

She looked a bit fearful when he suddenly appeared in her room.

Loki put his hands out to the side. ‘Please, Rose… Rosie. I just want to talk, that’s all.’ He said softly.

Rosie slipped off her bed and moved to the side, a little further away from him.

‘I want, no, I need you to know that I never meant to hurt you. Truly. And you were not just a play toy, I give you my word. You meant, and still do mean, the world to me. It broke my heart every single day that I didn’t return to you.’ Loki said honestly.

Rosie wrapped her arms around herself, she couldn’t look at Loki properly. So kept her eyes on the floor on front of him while she listened.

‘I thought it would be for the best, not coming back to you.’

‘Why… Why didn’t you come back or tell me?’ Rosie asked, being brave and raising her eyes up to look into his for a moment, tears in her eyes again. But she was a little confused to see his eyes looked a little bit teary too.

Perhaps he really wasn’t lying.

‘I found out on that trip back to Asgard that I am… that I am a frost giant, a monster. I was told I was adopted, that I had no idea about previously. I suddenly felt myself spiralling out of control, there was no way I was going to put you in danger. I thought it was best, safest for you that I didn’t return… I see now that it was a mistake, that I should have spoken to you about the situation. Told you who I was. I thought I was doing the right thing by you, Rosie. I truly thought I was.’

Rosie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

‘Why… Why should I believe you? I was… I was in love with you, I trusted you. And you broke that.’ Her lower lip was quivering as she spoke.

Loki nodded and looked down. ‘I am truly sorry. It is breaking me to see you so upset, knowing what I did to you. I never meant to…’ He turned to the door, to leave her alone. ‘I want you to know, there wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think of you… Rose.’ He said softly before leaving.

Rosie felt her heart breaking all over again.

-

Later that day, Rosie bumped into Thor on her way to the lab.

‘Rosie… If I may have a word, I only need a minute of your time.’ He said politely.

She nodded and stopped in her tracks to see what he wanted to say. Thor could see how upset she was, it was evident on her face that she had barely slept since Loki appeared at the tower.

‘Loki spoke about you so fondly, he was madly in love with you… He still does love you. He never stopped. He really did think he was saving you, from himself. He went down a dark path, one that I didn’t think we could pull him from.’ Thor said regretfully.

Rosie shifted nervously on her feet.

‘He isn’t lying to you now, I promise you that. He is beating himself up about it, knowing what pain and harm he caused you for not just speaking to you. He thought it was best to stay away, but he realises now how wrong that was.’

She looked down with a sigh, she knew Thor wouldn’t lie. It wasn’t in his nature. But realising that Loki was telling the truth, she wasn’t really sure what to make of that information.

Thor let her carry on to the lab to do her work, she didn’t bump into Loki at all that day. Which she was rather glad of, because it gave her time to think.

The following day, she went to the kitchen in the morning to find Loki.

His face lit up a little when she approached him, actually seeking him out.

‘I… I believe you. I believe that you thought you were doing what you thought was best for me… Like you always did, you always looked out for me and did what was best. But you did get it wrong this time.’ She looked down and she nervously fiddled with her hands. ‘I don’t know if I will be able to forgive you for it, but I don’t… I don’t hate you. I never could. I understand why, though it doesn’t make it any less hurtful.’

Loki nodded and he wanted nothing more than to grab her hands in his, but he refrained from touching her. Knowing it probably wasn’t the best thing to do.

‘Thank you, Rose. That’s all I can ask for, I know. Though I do hope we can maybe be friends, in time? But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable here, it’s your home and work. I can leave, if that’s what you would prefer.’ Loki offered, surprising her slightly.

‘No… No, it’s ok… I did think I would need to leave, but I… I think it will be ok.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’ll see you around… Loki.’ She gave him a very small smile, which made Loki smile a bit too.

It was a step in the right direction.

-

Over the following weeks, Rosie felt a bit better about everything. Herself included. Learning that a God had truly been in love with her was quite the confidence boost, even if it had gone wrong in the end. She understood now though.

She was still a bit nervous and anxious around him, but she wasn’t sure why really. Though their interactions were brief at first. Just hello’s or good morning’s. Then Loki started making her hot chocolate in the mornings, just the way she used to like it. With a marshmallow on top.

‘Thanks.’ She said shyly when he handed her a mug in the morning with a smile.

‘You’re welcome, darling.’ He smiled at her brightly.

He was glad to see she was looking better too, not tired or as scared of him. Though he could tell she was tired in another way, tired of being an adult and looking after herself. He had seen it before, when she was busy with work and hadn’t been able to go into little space for a while…

He wished he could allow her that relief, to go into little space with him. But he knew that would likely never happen again. Which broke his heart.

Over time, he couldn’t help himself from getting a bit protective over her. Old habits appearing.

She was cooking dinner one night, had offered to for everyone. She was using a sharp knife to cut up some vegetables when Loki walked in and saw her.

‘Let me do that for you.’ He said swiftly and rushed over to take the knife from her before she could argue. She tried to ignore the tingling she felt when his fingers had brushed against hers.

Another time, it was almost midnight and Loki had gone to get a snack from the kitchen when he spotted a light on in one of the offices. Popping his head round the door, he saw Rosie was still up doing some work.

He walked in and with a firm voice started telling her off. ‘You should be in bed, it’s way past your…’ He trailed off, eyes widening as he realised he had no right to be telling her what to do.  

She looked surprised and a little sheepish. Part of her wanted him to finish, to put her to bed. But she tried to push that feeling way down.

‘Sorry…’ Loki shook his head and rushed out of the room quickly.

-

One afternoon, there was a mad rush in the tower when Bruce had turned into the Hulk by accident, causing destruction and chaos as everyone ran around screaming trying to get out of the way, while Natasha tried to calm him down.

Rosie had gotten caught up with some SHIELD officers charging past her, knocking her to the floor.

‘ROSE!’ Loki shouted and rushed over to her, he had been looking for her during the panic to make sure she was safe. Seeing her being knocked to the floor panicked him.

‘I’m ok.’ She said as she sat up. But before she could get herself up, Loki had already put his arms around her and lifted her up to her feet.

‘You’re bleeding.’ He commented as he picked up her hand, she had a cut on the side of her wrist.

‘It’s just a scratch, it’s ok.’ She said quietly.

Loki put his arm around her waist and led her into the nearest room, away from the hustle and bustle. He sat her down on a chair and knelt on front of her, inspecting her wrist.

‘Honestly, it’s fine. Just a scratch.’ She said again, trying to pull her hand away, but Loki wouldn’t let her.

He conjured up a plaster and some soothing cream. Her heart started beating a little faster when he applied the cream gently and then put the plaster on.

‘Any other injuries? Are you sore anywhere else, that was quite a fall?’ He asked, concern etched all over his face as he inspected her arms and hands closely, then looked into her eyes.

‘I’m… I’m fine… Thank you… Loki.’ She stammered out, her skittish eyes never quite landing on his.

Once he was sure she was ok, he let her go and walked her back to her room safely. She was shaking when she got inside, not because of Hulk or being knocked over, but because of how close she felt to falling into little space with Loki.

There was the deep longing within her, just wanting him to look after her again, like he used to. His natural Daddy instincts was bursting out, though she could tell he was trying to contain it.

Though she was terrified of being left again

-

That night, Loki was sitting up in bed reading. It was getting late, but he just couldn’t sleep. He was really antsy because there was thunder and lightning outside, he knew how scared Rosie was of thunderstorms. And this was a particularly bad one.

He wanted nothing more than to go to her room and comfort her, or just make sure she was ok. But he knew he had no right to do that anymore.

Though he was confused when there was a timid knock on his door.

Slipping out of bed, he had some leather trousers materialise onto him as he crossed the room, so he wasn’t answering naked. When he opened the door, his heart utterly collapsed at the sight.

It was Rosie. Rose. His sweet Rose. She was wearing cute kitten pyjamas that he had gifted her before, and she was clutching a stuffed toy dog to her chest tightly. She looked scared, and he knew instantly that she was in little space. Her eyes were watery, she had been crying.

‘I… I’m… scared…’ She said shakily.

Loki had barely opened his arms to her when she rushed forward into him. He put his arms around her and held her tightly to his body, then he lifted her up and squeezed her even harder as he pressed his face into her hair, breathing in deeply.

She wrapped her legs around him and hid her face into the crook of his neck. She was trembling a bit, but it was slowly easing as he carried her over to his bed.

‘It’s ok, my little one. You’re safe with me, I promise.’ He said softly and got into bed, curling her up on his lap safely.

She kept hugging into him, jumping whenever there was a rumble of thunder.

‘Shhh, shhh. It’s ok, my sweet Rose.’ He hummed gently and slid his hand under her top to stroke her back soothingly, making her melt and feel safe.

‘You’re safe with Daddy. And I promise, I am never going to let you down again.’

[yuta-nakamots]

perfect - z.cl

Pairing - Chenle x Fem!Reader

Genre - fluff, angst, university!au, friends to lovers!au

Warnings -  alcohol consumption, mention of drunkeness, lots of arguments, heavy making out, breakups, contains an aged up chenle (26-ish) towards the end

Summary - He’s definitely not your knight in shining armor, he may not be the one you bring home to mother, but he’ll be the one to give you flowers. Chenle is not the right one for you, but he is for right now.

Word Count - 5.2k

A/N - Bolded phrases are song lyrics taken from One Direction’s song ‘Perfect’ and inspired from the lyrics along with all the vlives where Chenle and the members have started yelling out the lyrics.This was supposed to come out back in January but school held it up and now Ana is gone hhhhh. I know she’s still on Tumblr but under a new url so if anyone wants to send this to her, to let her know that I did finish it, that would be nice. 

Taglist - @astroboy-lele​​​ @in-my-neofeelings​​​ || fill out this form if you’d like to join my general taglist ^^

Written for the Sometimes Letting Go… Collab originally hosted by @sunryu​ who unfortunately deactivated. 

When I first saw you from across the room, I could tell you were curious

The mutual attraction between you and Chenle was undeniable. Ever since the two of you first met as freshmen in an econ class, you knew he was your twin flame and he was yours. That initial meeting was almost comical, the way the professor said to pair up and talk to someone next to them for a bit and it seemed like everyone had turned away from you except for the boy sitting next to you.

It seems you both had the same realization as your heads turned and eyes met. “Well I guess you’re my friend for today,” he began, “hi, my name is Chenle. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Y/n,” you told him, “the pleasure is all mine.”

“So, why are you in this class?” He asked, tapping his pen on his leather-bound planner.

You hesitated for a second as you thought about how much to tell him. “I’m majoring in business and this was just one of the mandatory classes in my plan.”

“Hm, same here,” Chenle shared, seeming the slightest bit amused at your similarity, “would you also happen to be in calculus this semester?”

“Section 3 at 10:30?” You counter.

Chenle broke into a smile, “that’s the one.”

“How about freshman seminar?” You asked.

“1:15 in the world language building?” Chenle offered, copying your answer from before.

“Wow,” your eyebrows were raised in actual disbelief, “did you steal my schedule or something?”

“No, but I do believe in fate,” the boy next to you confessed, “would you like to get lunch sometime before freshmen seminar?”

You nodded, “I’d like that,” you stopped mid-sentence when you remembered that you told your friends you’d eat with them, “I am gonna be eating with my friends though so I could introduce you to them if you’d like.”

“Want to bet that we have the same friends too?”

“No way, that would be too coincidental.”

And coincidental it was. Somehow your friends knew some of Chenle’s friends whether it be from high school activities, childhood friends, or even having just met in their own classes. Your small group of five had immediately doubled in size.

Of course, with such a large group of friends, there was much fun to be had and many memories to be made. During midterms is when you were thankful you were majoring in business and not something like biology or chemistry. You could still go out and have fun on weekends with Chenle and the majority of your friends, meanwhile a few poor souls had to stay back to study their ‘reaction mechanisms’ or whatever the heck those things were called.

You quickly found that you weren’t one for parties though you loved to hang out with your friends and have small little parties of your own in the dorms. Every single time, as you all got progressively drunker and started to clock out for the night, it was always you and Chenle left being the two most sober with no other choice but to take care of your friends over hushed conversations.

“How much vodka did Hannah even drink?” Chenle asked while you both worked on cleaning up the mess of solo cups and napkins surrounding your friend who had, unfortunately, drank over half of the bottle. You picked it up, waving it at Chenle to show him. “She’s gonna have a nasty hangover…or at least wake up super dehydrated.”

As you worked on laying a blanket across her, passed out on the floor, Chenle had managed to stuff all the napkins inside the cups he had collected and was busy aiming at the trash can across the room. Right as he was about to shoot, “miss!” you called out. The little stack of cups hit the rim of the plastic trash bin and fell to the floor. Chenle turned to you, sticking out his tongue and imitating the way you caused him to mess up before going to properly dispose of the rubbish.

Instead of simply placing it in the waste, he once again returned to where he stood before, with one eye shut, aiming for the bin. You let out a scoff, ready to disturb him once more. He shot you a glance, knowing what you were planning from the way you just stood watching him. But regardless, he tried again. “Airball” you sang as he released the short stack of cups, sending them flying to the foot of the bin.

Chenle let out a growl, childishly stomping his way over to you while you tried to quietly escape from his grasps through the mess of food and other miscellaneous items on the floor. From the hushed giggles and name-calling from the two of you as you both stumbled around the room, to the whispered late-night thoughts and affirmations spoken from your positions on the floor with your heads resting on the edge of a bed, you barely even noticed how fast time was passing.

“Are you going home for the holidays?” You asked him.

He shook his head, “it’s my first time getting to live away from my parents and whenever I do go back, they’ll probably be expecting me to bring some girl with me.”

You turned to look at him, “why would they expect that?”

“They’re both getting old and want to retire soon,” Chenle started, “so the faster I get married and take over the company, the faster they’ll get to live out the rest of their lives,” he explained.

“Well that’s not very nice of them,” you commented, “what kind of parents would place such high responsibility on their child like that?”

“Mine I guess,” Chenle sighed.

After a moment of silence, you sat up, unsure what to make of the next words to come out of your mouth. “If you want, I could go with you.” Chenle looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “Like, I could be your fake girlfriend or something so that they don’t bother you so much about finding one.”

“That’s…an idea,” he started, biting on the corner of his lip as he played out possible scenarios in his head. “I think that would only make it worse though since we’d both have to make up stories and tell the same information.”

“True. But we could at least make it look believable, don’t you think?” You reached over to pet Chenle’s head the same way you’ve seen him do to his friends. “Oh, Chenle, you’re so cute,” you cooed, “I can’t wait to marry you and be with you for the rest of our lives.”

He grabbed your wrist and put it in your lap, not very keen on the show of affection. “Yeah, I think we’d look like a pretty convincing couple.”

“Do we look good together though?” You pondered. “If we were to show up to an event or something, would we make people stop and stare at us?”

“Anyone can do that if they wear something weird or do something out of the ordinary-“

“Okay but that’s not what I’m asking,” you interrupted, “I’m asking, would we look good together as a couple?”

Chenle shrugged apprehensively, “sure.” Your eyes bore into him as if forcing a more legit answer out of him. “Yes, I think we would look good as a couple.”

It was as if you and Chenle were made for each other. Whatever one did, the other was never too far behind. It was absolutely no surprise to your friends when you told them Chenle had asked you out and you became official. While your college careers continued and friends came and went, Chenle was always with you. He was your solid island in the middle of a tumultuous sea, your oasis in a dried desert. You didn’t need anyone else around to have fun, just him, just the two of you.

But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms and if you like having secret little rendezvous

Being with Chenle was as wild as things could get. It meant impulsive plans and bad decisions. Weekend nights normally consisted of one of you driving with no destination in mind until someone got hungry. Even at that point, the night didn’t end.

Sometimes the two of you would stay out past midnight, not wanting to leave each other’s company just yet. The feeling of the wind whipping past you as Chenle drove or the thrill of gassing it down the freeway was almost dreamlike. One would think that at this point, you’d return home, but for you, your home was wherever Chenle was. If it meant staying in a small hotel room for the night drinking cheap wine out of paper cups then so be it, that was home.

“Baby, you already drank almost half of the bottle, leave some for me,” Chenle teased, his eyes glimmering under the low lighting. The brightness of the small lamp on the desk failed to reach where he was sitting, the cozy armchair too far in the corner for it to be illuminated.

“Come here and get some then,” you suggested, lazily winking at him before downing another shot-sized gulp and enjoying the burn from the liquid running down your throat. The bed you were sitting on wasn’t all that soft but you had already warmed up a little spot of it and gotten too comfortable to move.

Chenle raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I don’t think you want me to do that.”

“Why not?” Your expression mirroring his.

“You wanna find out?

“Maybe I do.”

He let out a scoff and within a second he was on the bed, climbing up and settling over you. His warm breath fanned your neck, the scent of alcohol filling your senses. “Are you sure about that?”

“Fuck around and find out, handsome,” you taunted.

You had barely even finished your sentence before Chenle’s lips were on yours, his usual soft and pillowy lips became hot and heavy against yours under the guide of the fifteen-dollar wine. You were sure that you were definitely getting tipsy but Chenle’s love and passion were even more overwhelming. It was moments like this when you felt that you were drunk off of his love and it was absolutely intoxicating in the best way.

If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn’t do, then baby I’m perfect

It was drunk weekends like this that led to a rocky start of the following week. It’s not that you and Chenle were bad students, it’s just that when you become totally infatuated with the person you love, you start to devote yourself to them instead of what actually needs to get done.

As sophomores in college, one would think that you’d have a little more self-control but with Chenle, you just couldn’t help it. He was worse than any drug you could ever take, to the point where your friends would have to intervene and keep you in your rooms until a substantial amount of work was done.

You called them annoying but really you should’ve been thankful to them for caring so much about you back then, and you are thankful, looking back on it. They always told you ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ and you wish you had listened to them. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have lost a relationship that you thought was practically flawless.

Perfect for you

In junior year, that is when your beautiful illusion finally began crumbling down. Your workloads grew heavier and your hours of sleep decreased. Chenle would often leave you on read, having opened your message in the middle of studying then forgotten to reply to it. Even when you childishly got upset at him for that, he’d always give you the same apology or buy you something cute as if money could shut you up.

With little to no distance between the two of you, it was easy for boundaries to be crossed and for problems to go unaddressed. You can feel like you know someone so well, that they’ll always understand what you mean and they can read your words like a book, but it didn’t seem that way anymore with Chenle.

He’d make fun of the way you always made him say ‘I love you’ at least once a day or some of your other pet peeves, including the way you had a Hello Kitty mouse pad that was ‘too childish for a college student to be using.’ It may have been out of love but it sure didn’t seem that way.

I might never be the hands you put your heart in or the arms that hold you any time you want them

Soon, the little pricks in your relationship spread past closed doors and into your schoolwork. Sharing a major and classes with your significant other was not exactly ideal, especially when they had different values and beliefs from you and had to argue for their reasoning.

“That just isn’t sustainable in the long run though,” you commented as you read through Chenle’s senior research report while seated opposite of him inside a library study room.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back into his seat, about to repeat himself for the fourth time. “It’s not about sustainability, it’s about the profit margin that’s being made. What don’t you get?”

“It’s not good for the environment, it’s not good for the people working in the factories,” you point out, “I don’t get how you can subject these things onto people.”

“Y/n, we’re business majors,” he stated plainly, “we study money, the economy, sales, company relationships, we’re not here to be environmentalists. Things don’t have to last very long, so much as they make a profit.”

“But we should think about the impact of our future businesses and their longevity in the world-”

“You should think about passing this class and stop being so prissy and uptight about saving trees or whatever the fuck you’re going on about.”

You were absolutely shocked at the words that had just come out of his mouth. This wasn’t the first time he had seemingly degraded you in this manner, but when it came to school and your own work, you were deeply offended at what he had said, especially since both of you had spent many hours on your respective projects.

“Chenle,” you began softly, “tell me you didn’t mean that.”

He refused to meet your gaze, “If I told you that then I would be a liar.”

“Look, you can’t just spew whatever bullshit you want and just expect that people won’t get hurt,” you criticized, only to be cut off once more.

“Then maybe you should learn to not take everything so seriously,” he snapped back.

“I...I think we need a break.”

“Agreed.”

“No, from each other.” Chenle’s head whipped up to look at you, his eyes went wide when he realized what you were insinuating.

“Baby no, you know it’s not like that,” he started, but it was already too late. You blocked his voice out of your head as you packed your belongings, just wanting to get out of this room, wanting to get away from him.

This wasn’t the first time you had fought with him in this way but it felt like you had finally lost all your patience. You were tired of always being told you were wrong and having your thoughts and ideas invalidated. As you stormed away from the library, you realized that maybe you needed to let go of things that no longer brought you joy.

Sometimes letting go...is a new start

After that incident, you did indeed have a fresh start. You slowly removed Chenle from your life and just in time for graduation. Whenever he tried to approach you on campus, you always turned the other way even if it meant being late to class. Luckily, you didn’t have many shared classes with him anymore and you were all the more grateful for it right now.

You’d come back to your campus apartment with the occasional flower or sticky note left on your doorstep asking you to give him another chance but you simply didn’t have enough time or energy to care anymore. Commencement was approaching and you still had yet to hear back from any of the companies you had applied to for internships.

But that don’t mean that we can’t live here in the moment

One of your friends had mentioned that Chenle had already received news that he was accepted into his family’s business, a large company in China, and you wished you could’ve been there when he had read the email. You could practically hear his yell of delight, his laugh when he’d turn to hug you, even if it was practically guaranteed that he’d get in, you missed it all so much but there was no turning back now.

It wasn’t until after commencement did you receive your own letter of acceptance from one of the largest foreign trade companies in the area after you saw Chenle for the last time. “Zhong Chenle, Bachelor of Arts in business management.” You remembered the immense pride and pain you felt in your chest, watching him walk across the stage to claim his diploma as you sat clothed in the same cap and gown only a few rows away. You wished you could share your emotions with him, but you had to remind yourself that he was no longer yours, he was no longer the man you first fell in love with.

‘Cause I can be the one you love from time to time

Four years have passed since that moment at commencement. In those four years, you’ve climbed your way up in the company, taking a hold of a directing position in project development and management. With all your success though, there was always one failure that kept floating through your mind. The number of sleepless nights and wandering moments you’ve spent thinking about all the ‘what ifs’ and the changes you should’ve made in your relationship have all decreased with time, but sometimes it all comes crashing back. You miss the memories you made with him and you miss being so young and naive.

Sometimes you managed to hear a thing or two about the company he worked for but you never paid much attention to it, always falling back into a spiral of guilt and calling yourself the sole reason why your relationship fell apart. Chenle would even pop into your mind at the weirdest times when you’d be thinking of anything but him.

Like the other day as you were staring out the window of your office, watching people and cars pass by, your memory of Chenle speeding down the empty highway suddenly resurfaced. The adrenaline you felt from the buildings and signs whizzing by, the slight buzz of alcohol you felt in your system, the cool air coming in from Chenle’s window, the warmth of his hand in yours. You couldn’t help but smile at it fondly yet it turned sour when you thought of the last time he ever drove you somewhere. You had argued with him about something dumb, you couldn’t even remember it at this point, and you even slammed the door before storming off to who knows where.

Or some months ago, you were interviewing possible new hires for the company and met someone from Puerto Rico. Once you finished the interview with them, you sat at the wooden desk while remembering the way you teased Chenle because he didn’t know how to pronounce Puerto Rico. You thought it was cute and even told him that, but it ended up in another fight because you may have spent a little too long dwelling on the topic.

But oftentimes when you find yourself thinking about him, you’d wonder how he’s doing. Is he happy where he is right now? What kinds of things is he doing for his job? Has he found a new girlfriend? What if he dated many other people after me? What if he’s married? Would he have children by now? Or most importantly, ‘does he still love me?’

And if you like midnight driving with the windows down, and if you like going places we can’t even pronounce

Regardless, you’d shake off all these thoughts and continue about your day, completing the tasks assigned to you. The majority of your time was spent conducting interviews and deliberating with the directors about who to hire for what position. It was quite fun, really. You got to meet all of the new hires before they came into the company and you felt empowered by the fact that you would be indirectly responsible for the future of the company in this sort of way.

On one particular day, everything felt like it was going just a little too well. Your hair was done just the right way, traffic was light, your coworkers seemed to all be in a good mood, but most importantly, there were no fat folders sitting on your desk, waiting for you to go through. Just a single sheet of paper with the list of the new hires coming in for their briefings along with the notes you were required to go over.

You didn’t bother checking it, seeing as how you had exactly two minutes left before the scheduled meet time, which was exactly the amount of time you needed to head downstairs to the conference room. You really should have checked the list though. It would have prepared you for the shock of seeing a certain someone sitting at the table in a suit that looked all too good on him.

“Zhong Chenle?” You audibly gasped, pausing in your tracks the moment you entered the conference room.

His eyes were already on you as if he knew you’d be the person to walk through that doorway at that exact moment. “That would be me.”

The other new hires looked around at each other sharing all types of glances. Worried, suspicious, surprised, questioning, nothing really all that positive. “Sorry, he’s just an old friend that I was surprised to see,” you quickly explained, trying to pull yourself back together.

Throughout your whole presentation, it was like all the attention in the world was directed at you. Never had you felt this nervous before doing something that was supposed to be so familiar. Every time your eyes glanced over in Chenle’s direction, his gaze managed to catch yours as if he was trying to speak to you without any words.

By the time you adjourned the meeting and sent the new hires off to their respective departments, it felt like you had run a marathon. Your palms were clammy, your legs shaky, your mind racing, and your heart was pounding.

Chenle was the only one left in the conference hall while you pushed in all the chairs and turned off the lights. “Looks like these years have done you well.” He commented, finally able to take in the sight of you now that there was no one else around.

“I could say the same for you.” His shoulder had gotten broader and any childlike features had left his face. He truly looked like he had grown into a man. The dark gray suit he was wearing fit the lines of his body so well, it made you think he could’ve been a model instead of simply becoming an office worker. “So how have you been?”

He did a classic Chenle shrug, “nothing much really. I started off being just a marketing employee, did some work, and got myself to be chief marketing officer. It seems you’ve gotten much further than I have, though. Project development and management?”

“Oh, it’s not anything huge. I just help with planning things out and doing all the paperwork for its execution. I only do interviews and help with hiring when we’re in season, which would be why I’m here right now,” you explained, motioning for him to follow you out of the room. “Your new supervisor is probably wondering where you are. I sent the rest of the newbies a few minutes ago already. I’ll just tell him that you had a few questions about our operations.”

“Wow, cheating the system? That’s not the way I remember you,” Chenle said with mock disapproval. You led him to the elevators, pleasantly surprised to find one still on your floor after you hit the ‘up’ button. Your eyes met with his while you gestured for him to go in. “Ladies first,” he had a cat-like grin on his face as you rolled your eyes and stepped into the elevator.

“So why did you decide to leave your company? Weren’t you going to take it over someday?” You ask over the squeaking of the doors closing.

Chenle leaned against the cold metal wall of the elevator, “I still plan to but I felt like they were just kind of babying me or treating me differently because they knew of my background,” he explained. You could only nod to acknowledge the fact that you were listening. “I told my parents that I wanted to get experience outside of the company and they didn’t really understand at first until I showed them my point of view and how it’s a little worrisome to perhaps, learn how to cook when you always have chefs around you giving you instructions down to the tiniest things.”

The elevator came to a stop and the heavy doors opened onto the floor Chenle would be working on. “But why this company? We’re not even closely related to yours?” You led him down the hallway in the direction of his supervisor's office.

“My parents were the ones who recommended it, actually. It would be a little risky to go to a neighboring one in the case of it being viewed as a betrayal or like some kind of inside mission so they said I should just come back here since I’d probably have a high chance of acceptance-“ you put a hand up to stop him from talking, seeing how many of the other employees had started to look at him due to his volume.

“Chenle, must I remind you that this is an office?” You gritted out, embarrassed in front of your colleagues.

He shook his head before turning to the mass of them, bowing politely then continuing in the same direction as before. Once both of you reached the head office at the end of the hallway, Chenle spoke up once more. “By any chance, are you free tonight?”

“That depends,” you began, “what are you hinting at?”

“Just seeing if you’d like to go out to dinner so we can properly catch up, I guess,” he proposed bashfully.

You hummed in thought, “mmm, put in a good word for me with your supervisor and you’ve got a deal.”

“Deal,” he agreed.

“Meet me in the lobby at 5:30, don’t be late,” you told him before knocking on the wooden door in front of you and allowing Chenle in.

If you like to do whatever you’ve been dreaming about, then baby you’re perfect

You thought Chenle’s wine phase in college would be just that, a phase, but it really wasn’t. He had ordered an expensive bottle of merlot even with all your insistence that you wouldn’t be drinking and even made him promise that he’d be sober enough to drive himself back to wherever his accommodations were.

He made a face of fake dismissal before picking up your last conversation. “So anyway, as I was saying earlier, my parents suggested that I come back here, especially since I got my degree from the university so I’m bound to get in.”

You were about to open your mouth to say something like “getting in is not a guarantee” especially coming from your experience in doing interviews and having to decide which applicants to turn down, but you decided against it.

“Initially, I was a little against it since I didn’t want to come back to somewhere I’ve already stayed at for some time,” he confessed, “but after I did some research on the company and found out that you’re one of the associates, I was a little more open to the idea.”

There was a break of silence while you started to link your thoughts together. “So you came here because you found out that I work here?”

“Yes, but also no,” Chenle stated, blurting the second part out rather quickly when he saw the shift in your expression. “It is true that I wanted to see you and how you were doing but it’s not just that. I figured that if you worked here and had such a high position, it must be a good place to work.”

“But what I’m hearing is…you came here because of me,” you state bluntly though your heart couldn’t help but let out a cheer of delight.

Chenle redirected his gaze at the neighboring tables. “You could say that, sure.”

“Chenle, what do you want out of this? What do you want out of me specifically?” You contended. His eyes continued to flit around the lowly lit space, not daring to meet yours unlike earlier in the conference hall. “What? Did you come back just expecting me to run into your arms? Did you think we would just pick up where we left off?”

Now he looked down at the white tablecloth, as if in shame. “Would it be wrong of me to ask for a second chance?”

You too joined him in staring at the table, wishing that he had answered ‘no’ to your previous questions. “It wouldn’t exactly be wrong, but it’s not right either. I’d be willing to give you a second chance if we agree to not call it that, but rather a promise.”

He finally looked up at you again, his dark pupils catching the dim golden lights above him. “A promise?”

You nodded. “We’re older now, we’re fully grown adults with jobs to do and taxes to pay. We’re no longer the same carefree college students we used to be.”

“Well yeah, obviously-“

“No, listen,” you interject, cutting him off, “we can’t just recklessly play with each other’s minds and feelings like we used to. No more games and no more ‘next times.’ If we try again, I want this to be a promise that we’ll both do better because we can and we want to.”

“If it’s a promise that you want then,” Chenle held out his hand with his pinky finger extended, “it’s a promise I’m willing to make.”

You linked your pinky with his before bringing your thumbs together and sealing the promise. Matching smiles appeared across both of your faces as you stepped into a new chapter of life with Chenle by your side once more.

Sometimes letting go is…perfect. So let’s start right now

[helnjk]

I Never Planned On You - C.W.

Charlie Weasley x reader

This is part of my showtunes fic list based on the song I Never Planned On You from the musical Newsies 💗 also i am SUCH a simp for Charlie it’s crazy 

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: when the twins bring their best friend to the burrow for christmas, charlie can’t keep his eyes off of her. 

Warnings: very brief mentions of death (minor character) & the war, injuries from dragons (?), mentions of food & alcohol consumption

- 

I’ve got no use for moonlight, or sappy poetry

Girls are nice, once or twice,

Til I find someone new

The pub was unusually packed, Charlie noticed.

As he scanned around the crowded room, his friends idly chatted around him. This was their usual routine, every Friday they would clock out of work and make their way here for a round of drinks and some fish and chips. 

He hadn’t noticed until she was directly in front of him, but one of the girls he saw around the reserve had made their way over. 

“Hello Charlie,” She drawled, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder, “It’s so nice to run into you here.” 

Despite the freezing temperature and the fact that everyone else was dressed comfortably, having come straight from work, the girl was wearing barely anything. Not that it mattered what any bird wore, as long as they felt confident in it and in themselves. But, as she bent down to be eye to eye with him, her breasts practically spilled over from her too tight top. 

It was obvious what she was trying to do. 

His friends watched with amused glints in their eyes, already knowing how this interaction would go. Her appearance was not out of the ordinary. Despite each incident involving a different bird, they had seen this kind of thing happen quite often when they went out with Charlie. 

“Erm, hello,” He muttered, trying not to make eye contact, “Louise right?” 

Her attempt at a sultry conversation was shattered as she replied, “It’s Leanne.” 

“Right.” 

Sensing that he was not at all interested in whatever was going on, Leanne huffed and turned on her heel. She angrily strode across the room, making as much noise and ruckus as possible, just to get a reaction out of the redhead, but her attempts were futile. 

Mark, one of Charlie’s friends, let out a low whistle as the girl left hearing distance, “That one was rather presumptuous, don’t you think mate?” 

Charlie let out a soft chuckle, “I don’t understand why they all think they can pull the same move and expect me to react any differently.”

“They’re all hoping to be the lucky one that the Charlie Weasley falls for, or some other crap like that,” He winked, taking a swig of his beer. 

“Reckon that won’t happen for a long time yet, mate.” The redhead replied. 

“You never know, Charlie boy!” 

He merely shook his head and took a sip of his drink. Dating wasn’t really on his mind anyway. 

Love at first sight’s for suckers

At least it used to be

The crack of apparition sounded through the pale morning light. 

Charlie landed steadily on his feet as he appeared on the top of a hill, just on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole. Nothing had really changed since the last time he visited, the same silhouettes of different houses littered the landscape, the same sleepy neighbors about to begin their day. The familiarity of it all blazed in his heart like a warm fire at the end of a cold day, comforting and all consuming. 

The Burrow stood proud and tall in the horizon, and he couldn’t help the smile that graced his lips. He was home. It was the Christmas holidays, the war had ended, and he was home.  

He took his time, trudging up through the blanket of snow surrounding the house. Smoke rose from the chimney signalling that his mum was already puttering about in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the army of people no doubt housed under her roof. 

“Mum!” He yelled as soon as he crossed the threshold, “Mum, I’m home!” 

As he banished the remaining snow on his boots with a wave of his wand, Molly Weasley came bustling out the kitchen door. Apron adorning her waist and a smidge of flour flecked on her fiery hair, she grinned and opened her arms. 

“Charlie,” She said as he bent down to wrap his arms around her in an embrace, “Oh love, it’s so good to see you!” 

“You too, mum.” He smiled at her, “Anyone else here yet?” 

From eldest to youngest, she listed off the plans of each of her children and where they were to spend the holidays. Everyone would be ‘round on Christmas and Boxing day, but the only ones spending the night that day, Christmas Eve, were the twins, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. The younger ones of the bunch had arrived the day prior, but were still asleep from what she knew. 

Charlie nodded his head before he was sent away to unpack his things in his old room. His mum had kept it just as he left it, even though it had been many years since he moved to Romania. She said something about not being bothered to think of anything to turn it in to, but he knew that she kept it for nostalgia’s sake. 

As he made his way back down the stairs, the commotion at the front of the house caught his attention. Fred and George had arrived, noisily announcing their appearance, taking off coats and scarves and calling out to their mum. However, Charlie could also just barely see the outline of a third person behind them. 

She was nearly a head shorter than the twins, but when she came into view, he felt the air get knocked out of him. The light streaming in from the open door behind her seemed to glow in a halo around her, her eyes lighting up at whatever the twins had said and a laugh falling from her lips. 

She was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes on. 

The twins took notice of Charlie’s presence, as he was paused halfway down the stairs, and called out to him. 

“Oi, Charlie!” George called, making his way to his older brother, “Nice to see you, mate! How’ve you been?” 

“Good-erm, good yeah.” He managed to stutter out, head still spinning at the sight of the beautiful girl, “What have you lot been up to, then? Who’ve you brought over?” 

“This is Y/N,” Fred said, motioning to his best friend. 

At the introduction, she smiled brightly and held out her hand for Charlie to shake, “I work with the twins at the shop, nice to meet you.” 

Charlie spotted Fred and George roll their eyes playfully. 

“Oh come off it,” Fred nudged her before turning to his older brother, “We’ve been mates with this one since Hogwarts. She was usually the one getting us in trouble, though.” 

“Oi!” She laughed, “Don’t make me sound like the bad influence, I was a perfectly good student.”

As Charlie watched their interaction, he had flashes of a little girl always in step with the twins and causing mischief in the halls of Hogwarts during his last few years there. Back then, she had only been a child, bright eyed and inquisitive, but now she had grown into a woman, confident and sure. 

“Nice to meet you,” He murmured as their eyes locked, “The more the merrier around here.” 

He might have been imagining things, but he swore he could see the faint beginnings of a blush creeping onto Y/N’s cheeks. 

The ruckus made from the twins & Y/N’s entrance was enough to wake the rest of the inhabitants of the household. It seemed like the Christmas celebrations had begun early as they all clambered into the slightly too small kitchen table and had a meal together. 

For the rest of the day, Molly had them all helping out in preparation for the real celebratory meal the next day. Charlie hadn’t had the time to strike up a conversation with Y/N and instead settled with (not so) subtle glances her way. 

Once or twice, one of the twins would catch onto his game and send him knowing looks. He paid them no mind, though, being used to their antics. 

“So Charlie,” Fred began, as the family was settling in around the living room after dinner, “Y/N, huh?” 

The pair of them leant against the wall in the corner of the room, away from any prying eyes or ears.

“Shove off, mate.” He replied with a slight shake of his head and his lips barely twitching into a smile. 

The younger brother rolled his eyes playfully, “It’s alright. Georgie and I have been fending off boys for years with our Y/N. She’s quite fit, but no guy’s been good enough for her in our eyes, or in hers I reckon.” 

“Don’t you go playing the protective best friend on me now, I haven’t even done anything!” Charlie playfully shoved his shoulder against his brother’s. 

“Nah, I’d never. Just wanted to tell you that she’s never been romantically involved with anyone.” 

“Well, that makes the two of us then.” 

-

The Burrow was uncharacteristically silent as Charlie crept down the staircase. It was definitely past midnight, but he hadn’t been able to fall asleep, tossing and turning from the moment his head met the pillow. 

He paused for a moment as he reached the bottom, not expecting to see light filtering through the open kitchen door at this time of night. His heart only picked up its pace as he noticed that it was Y/N who was sat by the counter, nursing a cup of tea in her hands and staring out the window. 

“Care for any company?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe. 

He noticed her body jump slightly at the noise, but when she turned to face him, the smile she sent in his direction could light up any room, “I’ve just heard from a certain redhead that around here, the more the merrier.”

“Fred tell you that?” 

Her laugh was a sound he knew he would never tire of hearing, “And I see cheekiness runs in the family as well.” 

“Nah,” Charlie shrugged, taking the seat across from her, “It’s our good looks that you should be watching out for.” 

He flicked his wand and the kettle began to boil once more as a mug floated its way towards the counter. The pair of them had settled into a peaceful silence, taking in the comforting atmosphere of the winter night. 

It was Charlie who finally broke the silence, “So, how’s it been working with the twins at the shop? They drive you mad yet?” 

She gave him a knowing smile, “When you’ve spent nearly seven years in close quarters with them, you tend to get used to it. Plus it’s good to have steady company, especially when it comes in the form of Fred and George.” 

“What about your family? How’re they spending the holidays then?” 

The moment the question escaped Charlie’s lips, he knew he had made a mistake. The light in Y/N’s eyes seemed to dim and her grip on the mug in front of her seemed to tighten.

“Oh I’m sorry, you don’t have to–” He began.

“No it’s alright,” She assured him, “My parents died in the war. I was going to spend the holidays alone, but the twins refused to even entertain the thought.” 

“Well, I’m glad they brought you along this year.” He sent her a timid smile. 

“Me too.” 

But I never planned on someone like you

Christmas comes and goes in a flurry of cable knit sweaters and too much food. Y/N and Charlie found themselves tucked away in a corner or out in the snowy landscape taking a walk together more often than not. A quiet conversation at the dead of night did wonders for their budding friendship. 

It was as if they were magnets now, drawn to each other in a way that couldn’t be explained. 

Sooner than he’d like, Charlie found himself in one of the Ministry offices, hand tightly gripped onto a portkey. 

As he settled back into his daily routine at the dragon reserve, his mind often wandered to Y/N. The way her eyes lit up when she saw the snow fall, how her smile bloomed at any of the twins’ (albeit not so funny) jokes, the little crinkle in her nose when she had a particular thought in mind. 

“Look out, mate!” 

He only had a second to react as he saw one of the younger Welsh Greens open its mouth and shoot flames in his direction. Charlie had been so distracted by his thoughts that despite his best effort and his exceptional flying skills, he still felt flames lick his skin and singe his clothes. 

Full of adrenaline, he managed to land his broom properly before rolling onto the grass and performing the protocol for accidents such as these. Mark reached him quickly, as the rest of the team he was with went to settle the dragon down. A quick aguamenti charm at the still burning areas of Charlie’s clothes got rid of the remaining flames, but he still suffered a few burns and scrapes. 

“You alright, mate?” Mark asked, helping the redhead get to his feet, “I think we’ve still got to get you to the infirmary for those burns.” 

“Nothing I haven’t gone through before.” He smiled, wincing slightly as his clothes rubbed against the new burns on his skin. 

-

As it was protocol for the reserve to inform next of kin of serious injuries, Molly Weasley received an owl detailing the accident and the procedures done to make sure that Charlie was well taken care of. 

When she received it, she just so happened to have Y/N over for some tea. As the matriarch of the Weasley family couldn’t help but be drawn to children who had lost their parents in unfortunate circumstances, she made it a point to have her over every once in a while. 

“Charlie’s hurt?” Y/N asked, concern leaking into her voice. She had peered over Molly’s shoulder to see what could be so urgently delivered from Romania. 

Molly tried to hide her smile as she noticed how much Y/N cared for her son. She wasn’t the only one who took note of how quickly they were drawn to each other over the holidays, and she was thrilled at the thought of Charlie finding someone to love. 

Of course, she knew it wasn’t love just yet.

“Got a few burns from one of their younger dragons, it says,” Molly clarified, “He’s confined in their infirmary until further notice. Usually we’re allowed to visit them when we get a notice like this, but I don’t think I’d have the time to go this week… And I don’t want to bother Arthur, he’s been so busy these days with the Ministry as well.” 

Having been around Molly for much of her Hogwarts years, Y/N knew exactly what she was doing. But she couldn’t deny the flutters in her stomach when she realized that the person she looked up to as basically her second mother was trying to push her into the arms of her second eldest son.

“Molly,” She began, already set to turn down the offer. 

Mrs. Weasley was quick to the chase, however, “Oh I hope he wouldn’t feel too bad, being injured and not having anyone come to visit him.”

A small chuckle escaped Y/N’s lips as she shook her head, “I’m sure he’s got friends over at the reserve.”

“Oh Y/N, but I know he’d love to have you over!” She protested, “And I know the twins would let you go and visit him as well. I would be truly grateful if someone from the family could visit him and come home with news.” 

Y/N’s resolve faltered as she noticed that Molly had said she was family. The Weasleys had been practically her second family the moment the twins took her under their wing, but hearing the family matriarch say it so casually moved something in her heart. 

“Oh alright.” Y/N smiled, “I’ve never been to Romania, might as well go and see what all the fuss is about.” 

-

The infirmary wasn’t new to Charlie. 

Working with dragons was a little more high risk than his mother would’ve liked, but his love for magical creatures overrode whatever concerns she might have had. It helped that everyone working in the place was a top notch healer and got him patched up in no time. 

Still, he found himself on bedrest for at least the next few days as he waited for the various balms and soothing creams applied to his skin to work. 

Just as he began to feel a little stifled and antsy, a knock on the door rang and the familiar head of one of his healers popped in, “Looks like you’ve got a visitor, mate.”

Charlie furrowed his brows, “But, my mum said she couldn’t come ‘round and visit–” 

“Sorry to disappoint, love.” 

The sound of her voice was enough to fill his heart with immeasurable joy. In that moment, he forgot all about the uncomfortable sting of his burns and the itch he had to get out of the ward and onto the field again.

“Y/N?” He asked, as she stepped into the room, looking as radiant as when he first met her, “What’re you doing here?” 

“Molly said that you were injured,” She shrugged, nonchalant, “Just thought I’d keep you company while you recovered.” 

“You came all the way to Romania just so that I wouldn’t be bored out of my mind?” 

“Well when you say it like that, it sounds like I went through loads of trouble! I just got the next portkey out of Britain.” 

Despite all appearances, the two of them bantered with each other with rapidly beating hearts. Charlie couldn’t believe that his own mum had sent the bird he was pining after to visit him in the infirmary. Y/N couldn’t believe that she had actually gone through with the plan and was going to be around the boy who caught her eye. 

As soon as she took a seat next to his bed, though, their conversation flowed from where it left off. No awkwardness or uncomfortable pauses, just the two of them chatting as if they were still back in the Burrow, nursing warm mugs of tea and watching snow fall outside the window. 

Y/N had to avert her eyes when the healer came back to redress his bandages, not because she was embarrassed to see him practically naked in front of her, but because seeing the burns nearly made her gasp out loud. She knew that he was a dragon tamer, but she hadn’t known the severity of what accidents on the job looked like. 

Of course, he noticed and once the healer had left them again he said, “I’m alright, love. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be all patched up in no time!” 

“Yeah,” She nodded, “I just wasn’t expecting that.” 

Without thinking, she reached out and took his hand in hers. The both of them looked at their intertwined hands atop the stark white bed sheets. His skin was calloused and rough, she noted, but tender and gentle too. It was evident that he enjoyed what he did and he did it with a lot of care. 

“Tell you what,” He stage-whispered, finally meeting her eyes, “I know what’ll help me feel better.” 

“Oh yeah? What?” She raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to him and playing along.

“For you to go on a date with me once I get out of here.” 

“You are something else, Weasley.” Her eyes glimmered as she shook her head, and Charlie felt his heart hammering in his chest, “If you weren’t injured, I would’ve shoved you off this bed.” 

“You didn’t give me an answer, Y/L/N.” He replied, hoping that he didn’t come off as too eager, but still squeezing her hand to show that he was serious.

“Of course I will, you silly man!” She rolled her eyes, but pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. 

She relished in the way that simple gesture brought a rosy pink tinge to his skin. 

[imagine-loki]

My Sweet Rose, Chapter 3 (Final Chapter)

TITLE: My Sweet Rose CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 3 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you are secretly a little but no one knows, one day you decide to check out a local BDSM club to try and get a feel of the community. You meet a handsome stranger that, over the next few months, shows you all about the lifestyle. However, one day… he vanishes without a word. 

RATING: M

It took Loki a few days before he was able to get a chance to speak to Rosie again. She kept running from him whenever she saw him, not giving him a chance at all.

In the end, he got fed up of her running from him. So he teleported into her room when he knew she was there, to sort it out.

She looked a bit fearful when he suddenly appeared in her room.

Loki put his hands out to the side. ‘Please, Rose… Rosie. I just want to talk, that’s all.’ He said softly.

Rosie slipped off her bed and moved to the side, a little further away from him.

‘I want, no, I need you to know that I never meant to hurt you. Truly. And you were not just a play toy, I give you my word. You meant, and still do mean, the world to me. It broke my heart every single day that I didn’t return to you.’ Loki said honestly.

Rosie wrapped her arms around herself, she couldn’t look at Loki properly. So kept her eyes on the floor on front of him while she listened.

‘I thought it would be for the best, not coming back to you.’

‘Why… Why didn’t you come back or tell me?’ Rosie asked, being brave and raising her eyes up to look into his for a moment, tears in her eyes again. But she was a little confused to see his eyes looked a little bit teary too.

Perhaps he really wasn’t lying.

‘I found out on that trip back to Asgard that I am… that I am a frost giant, a monster. I was told I was adopted, that I had no idea about previously. I suddenly felt myself spiralling out of control, there was no way I was going to put you in danger. I thought it was best, safest for you that I didn’t return… I see now that it was a mistake, that I should have spoken to you about the situation. Told you who I was. I thought I was doing the right thing by you, Rosie. I truly thought I was.’

Rosie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

‘Why… Why should I believe you? I was… I was in love with you, I trusted you. And you broke that.’ Her lower lip was quivering as she spoke.

Loki nodded and looked down. ‘I am truly sorry. It is breaking me to see you so upset, knowing what I did to you. I never meant to…’ He turned to the door, to leave her alone. ‘I want you to know, there wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think of you… Rose.’ He said softly before leaving.

Rosie felt her heart breaking all over again.

-

Later that day, Rosie bumped into Thor on her way to the lab.

‘Rosie… If I may have a word, I only need a minute of your time.’ He said politely.

She nodded and stopped in her tracks to see what he wanted to say. Thor could see how upset she was, it was evident on her face that she had barely slept since Loki appeared at the tower.

‘Loki spoke about you so fondly, he was madly in love with you… He still does love you. He never stopped. He really did think he was saving you, from himself. He went down a dark path, one that I didn’t think we could pull him from.’ Thor said regretfully.

Rosie shifted nervously on her feet.

‘He isn’t lying to you now, I promise you that. He is beating himself up about it, knowing what pain and harm he caused you for not just speaking to you. He thought it was best to stay away, but he realises now how wrong that was.’

She looked down with a sigh, she knew Thor wouldn’t lie. It wasn’t in his nature. But realising that Loki was telling the truth, she wasn’t really sure what to make of that information.

Thor let her carry on to the lab to do her work, she didn’t bump into Loki at all that day. Which she was rather glad of, because it gave her time to think.

The following day, she went to the kitchen in the morning to find Loki.

His face lit up a little when she approached him, actually seeking him out.

‘I… I believe you. I believe that you thought you were doing what you thought was best for me… Like you always did, you always looked out for me and did what was best. But you did get it wrong this time.’ She looked down and she nervously fiddled with her hands. ‘I don’t know if I will be able to forgive you for it, but I don’t… I don’t hate you. I never could. I understand why, though it doesn’t make it any less hurtful.’

Loki nodded and he wanted nothing more than to grab her hands in his, but he refrained from touching her. Knowing it probably wasn’t the best thing to do.

‘Thank you, Rose. That’s all I can ask for, I know. Though I do hope we can maybe be friends, in time? But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable here, it’s your home and work. I can leave, if that’s what you would prefer.’ Loki offered, surprising her slightly.

‘No… No, it’s ok… I did think I would need to leave, but I… I think it will be ok.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’ll see you around… Loki.’ She gave him a very small smile, which made Loki smile a bit too.

It was a step in the right direction.

-

Over the following weeks, Rosie felt a bit better about everything. Herself included. Learning that a God had truly been in love with her was quite the confidence boost, even if it had gone wrong in the end. She understood now though.

She was still a bit nervous and anxious around him, but she wasn’t sure why really. Though their interactions were brief at first. Just hello’s or good morning’s. Then Loki started making her hot chocolate in the mornings, just the way she used to like it. With a marshmallow on top.

‘Thanks.’ She said shyly when he handed her a mug in the morning with a smile.

‘You’re welcome, darling.’ He smiled at her brightly.

He was glad to see she was looking better too, not tired or as scared of him. Though he could tell she was tired in another way, tired of being an adult and looking after herself. He had seen it before, when she was busy with work and hadn’t been able to go into little space for a while…

He wished he could allow her that relief, to go into little space with him. But he knew that would likely never happen again. Which broke his heart.

Over time, he couldn’t help himself from getting a bit protective over her. Old habits appearing.

She was cooking dinner one night, had offered to for everyone. She was using a sharp knife to cut up some vegetables when Loki walked in and saw her.

‘Let me do that for you.’ He said swiftly and rushed over to take the knife from her before she could argue. She tried to ignore the tingling she felt when his fingers had brushed against hers.

Another time, it was almost midnight and Loki had gone to get a snack from the kitchen when he spotted a light on in one of the offices. Popping his head round the door, he saw Rosie was still up doing some work.

He walked in and with a firm voice started telling her off. ‘You should be in bed, it’s way past your…’ He trailed off, eyes widening as he realised he had no right to be telling her what to do.  

She looked surprised and a little sheepish. Part of her wanted him to finish, to put her to bed. But she tried to push that feeling way down.

‘Sorry…’ Loki shook his head and rushed out of the room quickly.

-

One afternoon, there was a mad rush in the tower when Bruce had turned into the Hulk by accident, causing destruction and chaos as everyone ran around screaming trying to get out of the way, while Natasha tried to calm him down.

Rosie had gotten caught up with some SHIELD officers charging past her, knocking her to the floor.

‘ROSE!’ Loki shouted and rushed over to her, he had been looking for her during the panic to make sure she was safe. Seeing her being knocked to the floor panicked him.

‘I’m ok.’ She said as she sat up. But before she could get herself up, Loki had already put his arms around her and lifted her up to her feet.

‘You’re bleeding.’ He commented as he picked up her hand, she had a cut on the side of her wrist.

‘It’s just a scratch, it’s ok.’ She said quietly.

Loki put his arm around her waist and led her into the nearest room, away from the hustle and bustle. He sat her down on a chair and knelt on front of her, inspecting her wrist.

‘Honestly, it’s fine. Just a scratch.’ She said again, trying to pull her hand away, but Loki wouldn’t let her.

He conjured up a plaster and some soothing cream. Her heart started beating a little faster when he applied the cream gently and then put the plaster on.

‘Any other injuries? Are you sore anywhere else, that was quite a fall?’ He asked, concern etched all over his face as he inspected her arms and hands closely, then looked into her eyes.

‘I’m… I’m fine… Thank you… Loki.’ She stammered out, her skittish eyes never quite landing on his.

Once he was sure she was ok, he let her go and walked her back to her room safely. She was shaking when she got inside, not because of Hulk or being knocked over, but because of how close she felt to falling into little space with Loki.

There was the deep longing within her, just wanting him to look after her again, like he used to. His natural Daddy instincts was bursting out, though she could tell he was trying to contain it.

Though she was terrified of being left again.

-

That night, Loki was sitting up in bed reading. It was getting late, but he just couldn’t sleep. He was really antsy because there was thunder and lightning outside, he knew how scared Rosie was of thunderstorms. And this was a particularly bad one.

He wanted nothing more than to go to her room and comfort her, or just make sure she was ok. But he knew he had no right to do that anymore.

Though he was confused when there was a timid knock on his door.

Slipping out of bed, he had some leather trousers materialise onto him as he crossed the room, so he wasn’t answering naked. When he opened the door, his heart utterly collapsed at the sight.

It was Rosie. Rose. His sweet Rose. She was wearing cute kitten pyjamas that he had gifted her before, and she was clutching a stuffed toy dog to her chest tightly. She looked scared, and he knew instantly that she was in little space. Her eyes were watery, she had been crying.

‘I… I’m… scared…’ She said shakily.

Loki had barely opened his arms to her when she rushed forward into him. He put his arms around her and held her tightly to his body, then he lifted her up and squeezed her even harder as he pressed his face into her hair, breathing in deeply.

She wrapped her legs around him and hid her face into the crook of his neck. She was trembling a bit, but it was slowly easing as he carried her over to his bed.

‘It’s ok, my little one. You’re safe with me, I promise.’ He said softly and got into bed, curling her up on his lap safely.

She kept hugging into him, jumping whenever there was a rumble of thunder.

‘Shhh, shhh. It’s ok, my sweet Rose.’ He hummed gently and slid his hand under her top to stroke her back soothingly, making her melt and feel safe.

‘You’re safe with Daddy. And I promise, I am never going to let you down again.’

[arctickat2400]

Pains <> Harry Styles

You were sleeping on your recliner in your bedroom after reading a bit while waiting for your husband Harry to come home. He was hesitant about leaving you this morning for work considering you’ve been having huge stomach aches these past few weeks. They’ve gotten to the point where you wake up almost screaming, but they stop after a minute or two. You didn't think it was bad enough to go to a doctor for yet, so you haven’t, and Harry is still worried about leaving you. He would hate himself if something happened to you and he wasn’t there to help you through it.

It was close to midnight when Harry came home, locking the front door behind him. He set his keys and wallet on the entry table as he makes his way towards the kitchen and living room.

“Y/N, baby, I’m home.” Harry shouts in a whisper. He didn’t know if you were sleeping or not so, if you were, he didn’t want to wake you. He starts upstairs and peeks into your shared bedroom. He sees your closed eyes and your peaceful state. With a sweet and relieved smile on his face, knowing you’re okay, he walks into the room and towards you.

Harry gently places his hand on your stomach that is slightly shown from your shirt being pulled up, rubbing up and down with his thumb. He leans down and kisses your forehead. He wanted you to know he was home, but he knew you were exhausted, so he didn’t wake you.

Harry carefully undresses you, leaving you in your bra and underwear. He tucks you in, making you comfortable. He knew you’d want him to stay with you, but he left you to rest. Harry went downstairs, settling himself at the bar with his laptop and getting a little work done. He would’ve done his work in the bedroom so he could keep an eye on you, but he didn’t want to make too much noise.

* * *

It was almost 2 in the morning and you suddenly woke up. There was a sharp pain in your side, and you could feel another stomach ache coming. But, after a minute, the pain went away. You stood up from the bed, the floorboards creaking beneath you.

You barely took one step when the sharp pain came back, even worse than before. Your stomach began aching, and the sharp pain cut across your stomach. You let out an ear piercing scream, this being even worse than it's ever been. You held your stomach in severe pain as you fell to the floor, banging hard against the wooden floorboards.

Harry’s POV

I was just about done with my work for the night when I thought I heard the creak of the floorboards from upstairs. I couldn’t be sure, but it was probably just Y/N getting up to the bathroom.

Just then, not a second later, I heard a glass-breaking scream, followed by a bang on the floor coming from upstairs. I didn’t hesitate as I threw myself from the bar and flew upstairs, rushing into the bedroom. What I saw broke my heart and I didn’t wait even a second as I rushed to my baby girl, lying on the floor and struggling to get onto the bed.

“Y/N, what the hell happened? Are you okay?” I questioned as I picked her up and set her on the bed. Her eyes were closed but I knew they were red, and tears streaked her cheeks as she sobbed in pain. I looked down to see Y/N covering her stomach in pain. I knew what was going on.

“Okay, Y/N, I’m gonna help you through this. You’re going to be okay.” I told my wife. I tried prying her arms away from her stomach, but she just put her arms back where they were.

“Y/N, I need to help you.” I told her as she cries. I could tell she was trying to open her eyes, but it looked hard for her. “But, I can’t do that unless you let me.” I explained, trying to be calm, though it physically hurts me to see her in so much pain. She cried out as she just barely nodded. She slowly released her arms from over her stomach as I guided them to her sides.

I placed my hand on her stomach, knowing it'll help ‘coz it always helped when Y/N felt sick or was hurting. But, when I just barely touched her, she winced and flinched back, replacing her arms over her stomach.

“NO!” She screamed. “It hurts to much.” She cried to me.

“Ok, baby. I’m gonna get you to the hospital. Just stay calm for me, alright?” I said, hovering over her. I look across the room and make my way to get one of Y/N’s long sweaters. Sliding it over her head with difficulty, I pick her up in my arms and take her to the Range Rover after grabbing my keys.

I place her carefully in the front seat, buckling her in and rushing to the drivers side. I drive 5 minutes to the hospital, running inside to the reception desk.

“Something’s wrong with my wife and she needs a doctor now.” I panic to the woman as she eyes Y/N and the fragile state she’s in. She looks past me to see a doctor or two there in the hall. She waves them over with a hospital bed as they run over to me and Y/N.

“What’s going on?” One of the doctors questions, motioning for me to put Y/N down on the bed. But, as I was about to put her down, she clutches my shirt in her fist.

“No, Harry, don’t let me go!” She screams, snuggling her head in my chest and her other arm wrapped around my neck.

“I’m right here, baby. I won’t let go.” I tell her and the doctors begin leading me down the hall, Y/N still in my arms.

“She’s been having bad sharp pains in her stomach for the past 2 or so weeks to the point where she’s screaming and crying. And tonight, I found her screaming and on the floor. She won’t let me touch her stomach because she says it hurts too much and it’s tender to the touch.” I pause as I set Y/N down on the bed in the room the doctors led us to. I held her hand and sat behind her, holding her against me. Cries and whimpers escape her as she snuggles into me. “And I’ve noticed her belly has been a bit swollen and I don’t know what any of this means.”

Just then, Y/N lets out another ear piercing scream just as the doctors were hooking her up to heart monitors and machines. One of the doctors put an IV into the inside of Y/N’s arm and the other came and placed a morphine shot to her stomach, telling me it will help with the pain. Y/N calmed down, cries and whimpers still audible as I stroked my fingers soothingly through her hair. My shirt was still balled up in her fist as she flinches every now and then in pain.

The doctors call in some nurses to help figure out what’s wrong with Y/N. They first give her a sedative so she’ll sleep through most of the pain. As Y/N falls asleep in my arms, I wipe away the tears stained on her cheeks.

Your POV

The beeping from the heart monitor runs through Harry’s ears as the doctor feels around your stomach. He, then, lifts your shirt and takes a monitor, placing it against your belly, guiding it around as he looks at a small screen beside him.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, confused, his eyebrows furrowed.

“We might know what’s causing Y/N’s pains.” The doctor says, his eyes switching from your and Harry and back to the small screen.

“It’s very rare, but sometimes a woman can experience severe pains in the abdomen in the early weeks and stages of her pregnancy, along with a bit of a swell with pain.” The doctor explained to Harry. He was astonished to say the least.

“Wait, are you saying Y/N’s pregnant?” Harry tried to understand.

“Now, I believe so.” The doctor turned the screen towards Harry to show him a sonogram of a small baby which was in fact growing inside Harry’s wife.

Harry never knew, never even had that thought. But, now that he thought about it, his heart fluttered and a tear threatened to spill from his eye as he stared at the screen.

Harry’s head fell to look down at the most precious thing in his life, you. A small smile came to his lips, his thumb stroking your cheek, as he imagined starting a family with you. He’s always wanted a family with you, though wishing you didn’t have to go through all that pain to do so.

The doctor stood up, and just before he was about to walk out the door, “Wait, is she gonna be okay?” Harry asked about you.

“Yes, Y/N and the baby will both be just fine.” The doctor paused and the rest of the nurses and doctors made their way out. He started back towards the bed. “Y/N is about 4 weeks along, and for women who experience those pains, they should last only 2 weeks. The pains should be gone now, but we will prescribe Miss Grace with pregnancy safe medicine that will help with the pains if they ever do come back. But, she will be okay, along with your baby. Congratulations, Mr. Styles.” The doctor smiled to Harry as he walked out, leaving you and Harry alone to rest.

You stayed asleep for a little while longer as Harry held you in his arms. He set his hand on your belly, realization hitting him that he was going to be a dad in a matter of months. He was so happy, he couldn’t hold back a few tears. One accidentally fell onto your cheek as Harry wiped it away, and you started to stir.

Harry stroked his fingers through your hair as you nudge your nose into Harry’s stomach. He chuckled quietly as you felt around for Harry with your long sleeve covered hands.

“Harry?” You questioned as you looked up.

“Hey, Beautiful.” Harry smiled calmly at you. You began to sit up, you laying back beside Harry as he laid beside you. You lay your head against his chest.

“How’re you feeling, Baby Kitten?” Harry questioned you, holding your head against his chest as you wrap your arms around his torso. He places a kiss to the top of your head as he holds you.

“I’m not really sure. I little ill feeling, I guess, in my stomach. Still really tired, but fine otherwise.” You finished.

“Does this hurt?” Harry asked, placing the slightest pressure onto your belly. You sighed in relief at Harry’s gentle touch.

“No, not really. It’s not as bad as it was before. You’re free to touch it whenever you want now.” You giggle, looking up at Harry, and he joins in, happy to see your smile again. He leans down and presses his lips to yours, guiding your chin towards him.

He releases you and he brings your head back to his chest. You close your eyes, hoping to get more rest in Harry’s arms.

“Did they find out what’s wrong?” You question Harry, setting your hand on his chest.

You can hear the smile on Harry’s voice as he answers. “Well, all I can say is that little Baby Styles was conceived 4 weeks ago and is now living in that adorable belly of yours.” You looked up into Harry’s eyes in shock before he could even finish as he stared down at you, his hand on your belly.

“You’re kidding me?! I’m… we’re pregnant?!” You hesitate, and knowing the answer was yes as Harry smiled down at you with a sparkle of adoration in his eyes. Tears began streaming down your cheeks.

You sighed as you wrapped your arms around Harry’s neck, his carefully tightening around you, holding you close to him.

“But, what about all the sharp pains in my stomach?” You challenge, slightly pulling away from Harry as you stare into his eyes.

“Though rare, the doctor said some women experience some sharp pains during their first few weeks of pregnancy. Though not common, it wasn't not normal. But, you’re okay and so is Baby Styles.” Harry tells you as he places his hand on your belly again, caressing it with his thumb. Harry leans down again and kisses your forehead as you sigh in contentment.

Soon, around 5 a.m., the doctor came in to check on you and Harry was able to take you home. He guided you down the hall to the receptionist. She checked you out and gave Harry your prescribed meds.

Since he only had time to put a shirt on you, leaving you in only your underwear and barefoot, Harry had picked you up bridal style in his arms as you wrapped your arms around his neck, being carried to Harry’s Range Rover. He placed you gently inside, kissing your cheek and walking to the other side as you buckled up.

Pulling into your driveway, you got out, not worrying about walking barefoot on your driveway, Harry holds his hand out for you as you take it, helping you out of the car, leading you hand in hand to the house.

It was still dark outside, and you were still exhausted. “Hey, baby, how bout you go upstairs to bed and I’ll be up in a minute. I’m just gonna put your medicine away.” You nod in understanding as he pulls your head to him and places a kiss to your forehead before making your way upstairs.

You slip out of your shirt and slide into bed, closing your eyes as you wait for Harry. Not a minute later, you feel a warm hand on your belly, his thumb caressing your skin. You smile in satisfaction as Harry bent down, hovering over you, and placed a kiss to your 4 week pregnant belly. He fell into bed next to you after taking his shirt off, and pulled you against him, covering you in the duvet.

Harry kissed the back of your head and set his hand on your already growing belly as you moaned peacefully. Harry nudged the back of your head with his nose in response. You closed your eyes once again, falling asleep in Harry’s strong but gentle embrace.

[literate-lamb]

can I kiss you on the dancefloor?

Steve Rogers/Reader

One year into a relationship, yet still dancing in secrecy. Steve thinks he’s protecting you.

When a civilian and a hero fall in love, anything could go wrong. But not in the way Steve would have thought.

Or how the media play with the lives of superheroes.

►word count: 7.6k

► warnings(!): slight angst, alcohol

A/N: My gift to @blue-like-barnes for the Hoelentines Fic Exchange! I’m sorry it took some time, giftee. I didn’t expect this to turn into a monster (yikes). Thank you for hosting @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes ! Dividers from @firefly-graphics​ and GIF from Giphy

On his day-offs, Steve Rogers was a man full of disguises. 

When they first started, it was the baseball cap and thick-rimmed glasses. He liked it, it was simple, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before someone would notice. How could one not when his face was the one plastered in old war propaganda, in the museums commemorating his achievements, and even flashes on the telly when you walk past the local electronics store. 

Hence, it wasn’t a surprise when the tabloids posted a photo of him in his disguise, waiting at a crosswalk on a cold night. 

‘Captain America spotted on a midnight stroll’ came the next morning. It was taken after he was done walking you home, thankful they didn’t catch a glimpse of you.

“So capsicle, where were you off to last night?” Tony greeted him at breakfast, offending paper in hand. He unrolled it, opening and making a show of reading, displaying the front page for all seated to see. “Nice reading glasses, wasn’t aware you needed them.”

Striding into the room, Natasha came and snatched the tabloid. She gave it a critical eye, judging, before turning towards him. 

“Hmm, recycling disguises, Rogers? I’m disappointed.” 

Steve just groaned in reply.

The second time it happened, he had gone to the Black Widow herself for advice. He had expected sound advice coming from a former KGB spy who spent her paycheck on hair, but all he got was a stick-on mustache. Something about ‘needing to blend in rather than pointing the obvious’.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, Steve, but at least it’s better than that nerd get-up,” she smirked.

You had liked it. Giggling every time he kissed you, the fibres tickling your lips. He had ‘a caterpillar’ on his upper lip as you called it. And Steve had learned to get used to the itch.

But it wasn’t long before his new look was the star in barbershops. 

‘Captain America’s new look takes the world by storm.’ They had caught him again in another paparazzi shot. Tony had teased him for days after.

He couldn’t shake it off easily, constantly reminded of it when he walked the streets. Seeing them on screens when he’s channel-surfing. Even when he’s training new recruits, his vision filled with a sea of unshaved cadets, their hairy upper lips a prominent fixture.

He knew he had to do something when Bucky and Sam came in one day sporting twin mustaches. 

He discarded the strip of fibre in the bin. Reminding to pay Natasha a visit.

The third time he decided, he seeked out the help of Scott Lang, who was a master in keeping out of sight during his burglary days. Scott had given him a black beanie and told him to grow out his facial hair. 

The beanie hid his golden locks and the beard made him look rugged. You loved it, your thighs quivered when it was him and you in the four walls of your room. Uncontrollable groans as he went down. ‘Beard burn’ you had called it. Whatever it was, he loved the sounds you let out.

Four months. That’s how long the disguise lasted. His longest disguise to date. 

Before he became a trend.

‘Captain America is the new style icon.’ The internet sleuths found out where he got it too. ‘The sale of Walmart beanies skyrocketed by 70% thanks to Captain America.’

Tony had bought everyone in the compound a black beanie for Christmas, including the receptionist.

“Our grandpa’s a trendsetter, who knew,” he announced. Steve had smacked the back of Tony’s head with the beanie before retiring the disguise.

Now, sitting in The Sleeping Cat, Steve had opted for aviators and a Nasa baseball cap. He still kept his beard after your pleads, and he liked the look, he admits. It was back to basics for him and this was one of the only places where he was safe from prying eyes. Afterall, it was in this very café where he had met you.

The Sleeping Cat was a quaint little thing, a hole in the wall in a quiet part of the city. Not many knew of its existence, the entrance obscure, a blink and you’ll miss it. Which made it all the more perfect for him. The baristas knew him and minded their own business, offering him a smile every time he visited. ‘You’re safe with us’ they seem to say. 

He could say the same about the patrons. Most that frequented were regulars like him, they seemed the same, looking for a place to get away from the overbearing world. They seemed to share an understanding, paying him no mind as if he was just another man they passed on the streets. And that’s how he preferred it. 

Just a boy from Brooklyn.

Ding!

The chime of the door pulled him out of his thoughts. Facing the door, he saw you, smiling as you came through.

This was the best part of his days. 

You had met Steve Rogers at the most unexpected of times.

Terminated from your previous job at a small gallery, dumped by an ex-boyfriend after a 2 year relationship, you were at an utmost low. To escape your roommates —in case of pitying or prying, but if you were honest with yourself, it was to escape your own humiliation— you left the apartment on weekdays under the guise of going to work. In reality, you were at The Sleeping Cat applying for jobs on your laptop.

It was during one of the afternoon hours when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Turning to your left, you were greeted by a pair of startling blues. They were bright but worn as if they’ve seen too many. Looking at the bigger picture, you took him in. Hair hidden under a cap, a sharp jaw and an equally sharp nose, and if you looked closely, you thought you could spot a few moles on his cheeks. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t put a finger to it.

Eyes fleeting to his lips, you realized he was actually talking.

“Huh?” 

“I was wondering if this seat’s taken?” He smiled, gesturing towards the empty seat opposite. He was clearly amused.

“Yeah, sure, sure,” you nodded, making room for his things. 

The following days, it became a routine and an arrangement. You would be at the café as early as the owner would allow, laptop in hand. While he would come in the afternoons in a different jacket each day, a sketchbook in hand. You would be propped up, sending application after application, praying for luck. While he would quietly sit, churning sketch after sketch, in a relaxed demeanour. 

Sometimes you would peek over your screen and watch him draw for a few minutes, lost in his strokes. When you look up, you’ll find his eyes locked with yours, and you’ll immediately reimmerse yourself behind the screen, embarrassed.

It was a comfortable routine. You came to expect him everyday. And on the days that he didn’t make it, you felt a bit forlorn looking at the empty seat. You both didn’t talk much, yet you were getting comfortable in his presence.

Until one day, he broke the silence.

“So, what is it that you do?”

You stared, dumbfounded. Looking around there wasn’t anyone nearby. 

“Were you talking to me?” you asked.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “It’s just that you’re always on your computer…” he trailed off.

“I’m an assistant curator at an art gallery— or, er, used to be,” you explained. “Long story short, I lost my job and now I’m looking for a new one, that’s why I’m here.”

He seemed to ruminate before replying, “So you know a thing or two about art?”

You both started a new routine; one with a lot of communicating. He would ask you about your mundane weekends and interests and in turn, you would ask about his. Except, he was anything but mundane. 

On the days he was absent, you learned Steve was away on a lot of ‘business trips’. When he returned, he had never failed to present you with a souvenir. From matryoshkas to sarongs, it was always a surprise accompanied by a tale.

“The pattern on the sarong is called a batik, and it’s amazing how they’re drawn using wax like a liquid crayon. It’s an interesting art form.”

Outside of your little routine, he was an enigma. You barely knew about the Steve outside of The Sleeping Cat. Sometimes he threw the names ‘Bucky’ and ‘Sam’ a lot —out of exhaustion— without giving away anything, remaining tight-lipped. While his mysteriousness should’ve been a cause of concern, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards him, wanting to peel more of his layers, like the shell of a matryoshka. 

The routine went on for a few more weeks, with calls of interviews and business trips in between. Before you received a phone call.

“I got a job! At the Whitney!” you squealed, shaking his shoulders over the table, oblivious to the other patrons. Steve endured it, smiling. 

“Congratulations,” he said when you’ve calmed down. “I guess this is the last time I’ll be seeing you?”

You froze, high coming down, realization settling in. After a few weeks of secret meetings, of getting to know him, of having lunch together, of sharing laughs, you’ve come to see Steve as a good friend. And maybe, there was the birth of something more.

“Let’s exchange numbers,” you said, opening your phone. “This way, maybe we can hang out again. Have lunch sometimes?”

“I’d like that.” He smiled. 

And the rest was history.

Making your way towards The Sleeping Cat, you amused yourself with past memories. Memories from almost over a year ago. 

Steve had come to give a speech at the opening ceremony of an exhibition at the Whitney. Your first exhibition as a curator. An exhibition on art from the war times. When they had announced his title, a loud ‘oh’ was the only thing you could muster. 

The ‘ding’ of the bell resounded, announcing your arrival. Heading in, you saw a head perked up, beaming, baseball cap securing his golden locks and aviators hiding his mesmerizing blues.

This was the best part of your days.

But maybe, you were getting a little tired.

If someone were to ask you months ago if you were happy and content with your relationship, you would’ve replied with a swift yes in a heartbeat. No hesitation, no reservations, no doubt. Now, sitting in the same cafe, the same one you frequent on dates, the same one you both met in, you weren’t sure of the answer anymore.

As Steve gets up to order for you both, your eyes wander to his sketchpad. It was filled with sketches of random objects; the flower on the table, the pastries on display, sometimes the patrons of the cafe, and occasionally, you. 

“You’re my favourite subject, so far.”

It was not for the lack of love or the lack of affection. Steve was the most loving; loyal in so many ways, gentle when asked, and protective to a fault. Maybe the protectiveness was the cause of it all.

Staring at Steve’s back, your mind shifted to a memory from the past week, when your roommate pulled you aside from a get-together at the ice rink.

“Hey,” she called your name, taking a hold of your elbow. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure, what’s up?” you followed her, leading you to the sides.

Her eyes conveyed her worry. It amplified with the chewing of her bottom lip, a nervous tick.

“Are you and Steve… okay?” she asked, her brows perked. “I’m not sure if you notice, but today, it’s full of couples.” 

You looked towards your group of friends. There was your roommate’s girlfriend tying her skates, your other roommate and her boyfriend talking to another couple —their friends— and they were all holding their significant other’s hand. Oh.

“I don’t want to throw you out of the loop, but there would probably be a lot of double skating involved today,” she said, widening her eyes, looking comical. “Do you want me to talk to Steve? Maybe I could convince him to come, y’know?” 

Out of your two roommates, she was the only one who knew of your paramour. Having walked in on you and Steve making out on the couch. She was sworn into secrecy, with the promise of autographs from all the Avengers. 

“Look, it’s okay,” you assured her. “I can handle skating alone, and you know why he can’t really come here with us,” you shrugged.

“Okay, but aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around? Don’t you want to shout to the whole world ‘I’m fucking Captain America!’” she flailed.

You shushed her, muffling her mouth with your gloved hand.

Part of the secret was how Steven Rogers was an engineered superhero. A superhero with many enemies, leading him to fear for his loved ones, and that included you.

You went into the relationship whole-heartedly knowing the challenges; discreet rendezvous, kisses in the dark, minimal contact in public. You were his secret and he was yours. It was for your own good, wasn’t it?

“What’s got your little head wrapped up?” Steve’s voice startled you, bringing you back to the café. On the table, two cups of coffee and a slice of cake was served.

“Hmm? Oh, just thinking about this party the museum’s throwing this weekend,” you took your cup, blowing, contemplating your next words.“Say, how about you and I, I don’t know, go as dates?”

Steve crunched his brows. “You know that’s a hard thing for me to do, especially with your colleagues around.”

“I know! But maybe… maybe, you can go in one of your disguises this time? Remember that one time we went to Central Park?”

Steve exhaled, he remembered that afternoon. It was the one-off that you both ventured on a date in the outdoors. 

Decked in his beanie, casually strolling through Central Park with you beside him. Although he was still wary, keeping his hands in his pockets, fighting the urge to hold your hand. 

No one had recognized him; not the ice-cream man, not the kids running around, not the mothers pushing strollers. No one. 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

You leaned forward, pecking him on the lips multiple times. “Thank you!”

“You sure this looks convincing?”

“Trust me, punk. Grade A assassin here, thank you very much,” Bucky boasted while fixing the wig on his scalp, untangling the unruly strands.

Steve had sought Bucky for help, with the belief that assassins were good at hiding in plain sight (and maybe, he just didn’t want to go to Natasha twice). Bucky was also his most trusted confidant and he knew about you, Steve trusted him not to tell. But now looking at himself in the opposite mirror, he wasn’t so sure of that anymore. 

Long dangly tresses hung on the sides of his face parting in the middle, a trimmed beard leaving a bit of goatee, and to finish it off, Bucky dressed him in a checkered shirt consisting of random coloured squares. He looked like he just stepped out of the 60’s.

“Oh, wear these,” Bucky handed him a pair of large wire-framed glasses. “Done.”

Steve took a look in the mirror. A seedy pimp was the first thought that crossed his mind.

“Thanks Buck, I owe you one.”

“Sure Stevie, just bring me around next time on one of your dates, I’d like to meet her,” Bucky winked. “Or make it double.” He wagged his brows. “Like old times.”

Steve snorted.

“Okay, I got—“ Steve’s words halted when an alarm blared overhead. It demanded their attention.

“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, your presence is required in Prep Room six,” called the disembodied voice. “There’s been a breach of extraterrestrial energy in the airspace of Sweden.”

Steve exited and rushed through the hallways, Bucky following close behind. He made it through the living quarters, trudging to the training wing before entering one of the many prep rooms. 

“Nice costume, Cap. Halloween already?” Sam quipped. Almost everyone was present, they were equally amused.

Before anyone else could follow, Tony strided in immediately, grumbling. “Okay team, there’s been an E.T synthezoid putting holes in the ozone layer. I’ll fill you all in the quinjet. Suit up and meet me at the hangover in 10.”

Everybody gathered their equipment and hurried to leave, passing by him. Before Tony could, he took notice of Steve and did a double take. And then a third. 

“What’s with the pimp daddy get-up, Capsicle?” 

Steve huffed, ignoring the jab. “I have something that I need to attend. How important am I in this, Tony?”

“We need all hands on deck. We don’t really know what we’re up against, Fury’s still running recon,” Tony explained, squaring his shoulders. “Whatever it is you have, Cap. It can wait. Lives are at stake here.” With that, he left, not standing by for a response.

“Darn it,” Steve cursed, removing the glasses and the wig.

He left the prep room with his shield in hand. With one hand, he shot a text to you. He’ll make it up next time.

Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Emergency mission

Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Can’t make it, sorry

You switched the screen off, sighing. Around you, the party was in full swing. Invitees mingling with refreshments in hand, discussing the pieces on display tonight, and bidding on the pieces they find exquisite. Hors d’oeuvres and champagne were being served, brought around by servers on silver platters. You’ve been munching on them non-stop, grabbing one every time a server comes your way, needing something to occupy you.

Surrounding you, you’d see the occasional couple walking around, enjoying their time. The palms of their hands locked in each other’s as they navigate together, rarely straying afar. 

You clenched your hand, reminded of how empty it felt. 

It was inevitable, you were warned of this, you were told to expect this. Dating a superhero meant that he was never solely yours. You were sharing your boyfriend with someone, except that someone was the world. 

“Hiiii!” a shrill voice broke your thought, calling you by name. A blonde woman, followed by a brunette emerged from the gathering of art-goers, headed towards you. “It’s been a long while!”

“Hey! Yeah, it’s been awhile,” you waved, recognizing the two. 

When they reached you, you were aware of the slight tension in the air, leaving the three of you standing awkwardly. After all, these two were your ex-colleagues and you didn’t exactly leave the previous gallery on good terms. Tonight was a night with masks, it seemed.

“So, how are you two doing?” you decided to get it over with.

“We’re fine, everyone’s fine! But how are you? We heard you worked here now, pretty impressive,” the brunette —Claire— winked at you. You laughed.

“Yeah, it’s so nice seeing you again, and at the Whitney? The pay must be good, you know what I’m saying?” Hilda chimed, knocking her elbows with yours. You didn’t appreciate it but you endured.

 “Say, what are you doing over here far away? Why not you join us over there,” Hilda pointed, towards a mounted canvas at the end of the hall. It was occupied by two men in a discussion among themselves. “Chat a bit to catch up, a bit of art philosophical debate in between. What do you say?”

You contemplated her offer, not wanting to seem pretentious, but thought about the false flattery and ego-stroking that would sure ensue in their company. The thought of it drained you.

“It’s okay,” you waved them off nervously. “I have to call my boyfriend sooner, gotta check up on him and let him know I’m... alright.” You held up your phone, playing on convincing.

“Oh? He isn’t here tonight?” Claire seemed to feign worry. 

“No, he got caught up with something. He’s a busy man,” you cooked up an excuse. No one could know. 

“Okay… In that case, we’ll leave you to it. Maybe we’ll bump into each other sooner.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys soon.”

They waved before backing away into the mass of patrons. You let out a breath you didn’t know you held in. 

While the interaction was unexpected, this was what you had to deal with when it came to the question of your relationship. The excuses, they became second nature to you. The lies. The deceit. Anything to protect Steve’s identity, and inadvertently, you.

Throughout the night, you mingled with any clients interested in a work of art, all the while stepping out of Hilda and Claire’s line of sight. You didn’t wish a repeat of the earlier evening.

When the crowd started dwindling, signalling the end of the night, you were relieved of your duties. You headed straight for the restrooms after, one getaway before leaving. You huddled yourself in a cubicle, locking it shut.

Seconds in, you heard the creak of the restroom door followed by the clicks of heels.

“Can you believe it? Someone like that got the chance of working here.” 

You recognized the nasally tone. It was Claire. 

“Yeah? Not like she deserves it. I mean look at her? Demure, slow. It’s like talking to a mouse. I bet she’s a prude too.” That was Hilda.

The gushing of the faucet muffled their voices, but their sharp words were clear as day, your ear catching every snark and hiss.

“And when she was talking about her boyfriend? He probably doesn’t even exist, it was just to get off our backs,” Hilda paused. “Last time I heard, her boyfriend dumped her. So, I guess she’s creating imaginary ones now.” 

They both cackled.

By now, you knew they were talking about you. Their words didn’t hurt as much, you knew the colour of their hearts beneath the masks. But was that how people viewed your hidden relationship? A facade? A farce?

Once the door clicked shut, and the tapping of their heels faded, you left the restroom, heart feeling heavier.

(y/n) [6:45 PM]: stay safe stevie ! remember to hydrate

(y/n) [6:46 PM]: punch those meanies

(y/n) [6:46 PM]: (`⌒*)⍟-(`⌒´Q)

Steve chuckled when he turned on his phone, amused at your texts. You always sent him good luck messages every time he went off for missions. Although he didn’t seem to get the emoticons that you sent, even after being taught by Peter Parker. He just didn’t get them.

Steve dialed your number, sitting on the edge of the bed as he dried his washed hair. Beeps ringed before you picked up, your smooth lilt permeating the speakers. 

“Hello? Stevie?”

Steve smiled, missing the caress of your voice after a day filled with explosions and cries.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he greeted. “How’s my girl been?”

“Great, now that you called,” you teased. “But are ‘you’ fine?” you emphasized.

On the other end of the line, you mirrored his position, sitting on one corner of the bed. Picking the newspaper in your lap, you observed the front page: ‘Avengers saves the Arctic!’ 

“Same old, same old,” his voice carries. “Listen, about yesterday—“

“It’s okay,” you interrupted him, other hand gripping the newspaper. “You have to protect the Earth and that also means me. You don’t have to apologize, I knew what I signed up for.” 

Did you? Or was it now a hollow statement to convince yourself?

“I still want to make up for it, my girl deserves that much,” he responded.

You slowly unclenched the paper. It left Steve’s form crinkled.

“If you want to sooo bad,” you exaggerated. “There’s a Valentines charity ball for our arts program in three weeks time. You think you could make it this time?”

“You know no promises, but I plan to, even if I have to do everyone’s laundry for a week.” You heard rustling on the other line. “What’s the exact date? I’ll put it on my calendar.” 

“The 16th.” Scratchy scribbling filled your ear, the sound loud in the silence. 

“Done. Can’t wait to see you all dolled up, sweetheart.”

“Me too, baby,” you said. “At least put on a nice moustache this time.”

He laughed. Your heart felt lighter. To him, it was probably nothing, but to you, it was a form of reassurance. A reassurance that what you had was real.

“Steve, you got a moment?”

The aforementioned man turned around, taking a glance over his shoulder. Sharon Carter slowed to a stop, a small smile on her face. As always, she carried an air of superiority, matching that of Steve’s wavelength. Yet today, it seemed dim.

“I think we need to talk, you have time for coffee?”

Glancing at his watch, he nodded. “Sure, Sharon. Lead the way.”

She took them outside of S.H.I.E.L.D and into the chilly air of DC, navigating through streets and crowds while huddling in their coats. They chatted, breaths puffing as they caught up, the familiar scenes passing by.

He hadn’t been in DC in awhile, it felt good to be back. 

“We’re here.”

Sharon headed in first, holding the door for him. He thanked her. They ordered and got seated. A smile was shared, strained as it seemed. 

“Better just rip the band-aid off,” Sharon sighed. “I miss us.” 

“Sharon—“

“Please, hear me out first,” she insisted, showing her palm. “We probably shouldn’t have done what we’ve done after Aunt Peggy’s funeral. I just lost someone I looked up to the most, and you lost the woman that you loved. We were both grieving. It wasn’t fair to the both of us.”

“While I do miss us, I know that it wasn’t meant to be,” she continued, shooting a sombre smile. “I understand that now. I guess, what I wanted was closure.”

Her hand quivered on the table between them. Steve clasped his over hers, offering to soothe.

“I don’t regret what happened in Germany. While yes, it should have not happened, it was what we thought we needed at that time. We both lost someone we held dear,” Steve explained, hoping his words reached her. “None of it was a mistake, Sharon. You’re still someone I trust and hold dear, remember that.”

Steve clutched her hand tighter, running his thumb over her knuckles in circular motions, attempting to calm and show understanding.

In his efforts, unknown to the two, the shutter of a camera went off across the street.

Something felt off. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. At first, you thought it was your own anxious mind running. 

You woke up late on a work day, burned your eggs and toast, accidentally wore unmatching socks, and your roommate was acting weird. All jittery when you entered the hall, stammering her words, and performing this bizarre dance when you walked past the living room. You gave her no mind when you passed the threshold and slammed the door, phone gripped in hand.

Loverboy [6:00 AM]: Good morning, dear 

Loverboy [6:01 AM]: [image]

A photo of Steve, sweaty after a run showed on the screen. He was smiling, shirt stained and clinging to his chest. You had taught him how to take selfies.

You [7:20 AM]: morning, handsome

You [7:20 AM]: 😍😍😍 

The morning texts were the best part of your morning commute. It made the arduous and packed journey worthwhile. Even when you almost tripped at the doors, it couldn’t take away your joy.

You made it just in time and clocked in, meeting clients and discussions with artists throughout the day. It was uneventful, although the bad luck seemed to have followed when you spilled your coffee on the concrete.

It was when you left the museum that your day took a turn for the worst.

On the ride home, the man opposite you was reading a newspaper. Nothing unusual, but at a glance, you thought you saw a familiar face printed on the corner. Before you could take a closer look, the man folded it in half and got off.

A few minutes later, you arrived at your stop, exiting the station with the fast-paced crowd. That’s when you were bombarded.

Lining the streets, your vision was filled with the scattering of a crowd of papers. Every face you saw was plastered in them.

‘The Good Captain In Love?’

‘A Superhero & A Civilian Romance?’ 

‘Captain America’s Girl? Mysterious Woman Sighted’

The sight of them left you in a panic, your anxiety spiking through the roof. Your world started spinning, everything —buildings, trees, faces— blending altogether. Everywhere your eyes deflected, a headline invaded your sight, imprinting itself on your retinas. Had they found out?

Composing yourself, you headed towards the nearest news stall, mind boggled with too many questions and not enough answers. How? Why? When?

Only, it wasn’t your face they were publishing.

‘“Oh Captain, My Captain” America in love? Spotted last week in DC was Captain Steven Rogers with a mysterious lady. They seemed to be cozy with each other, an eyewitness told Us Weekly. Story on Page 11.’

The photograph showcased Steve with a blonde woman, sitting in a café with their hands clasped on the table. Your heart shattered at the sight, remembering how empty yours have felt lately. 

Was he purposely out with this woman in public? What did that mean for you? Why were you shadowed?

“Are you and Steve… okay?”

“She’s creating imaginary ones now.”

“Aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around?”

“You know that’s a hard thing for me to do.”

“Hey lady, you gonna pay for that?”

You were shaken out of your stupor. Looking down, you were clutching the magazine too hard, ripping the image of Steve and the woman in half, right in the middle where their hands met.

You apologized to the man and paid for the magazine. Immediately discarding it in the next trash bin you saw.

“So… you and Sharon?” Sam had asked him after training.

“What?” 

“You, and, Sharon,” Sam emphasized, pronouncing each syllable. “Are together. Man, when were you gonna tell me? I thought it was over.”

Steve froze before replying, “Because it is. A long time ago.”

“Well, this seems to say otherwise.” 

Sam showed him his phone, the screen displaying an article; ‘Captain America’s Girl Revealed. A Family Affair That Transcends Time.’ On top of the article was a photo of him and Sharon at the cafe in DC, his hand atop of hers on the table. A zoomed in version of their hands were provided, fueling the tabloid’s narrative.

Steve paled at the sight. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was his fears manifested; his anonymity taken, his privacy invaded, but his worst fear was putting his loved ones in danger. And if it was due to their association with him, it would leave him racked with guilt. 

While the tabloids were wrong, he knew that Sharon could defend for herself. You on the other hand… 

His heart rate rose, a new wave of anxiety spiked. Steve wondered if you’ve seen this. No, you must’ve seen this. 

Fishing for his phone, with clammy hands, Steve quickly dialed your number, anxiously waiting for the beeping to end. 

‘The number you’ve dialed is not—‘

“Damn it!”

His outburst surprised Sam, shocking him. Sam gave him a look, inquisitive. 

“Sorry Sam, I have to run.” 

He left, heart in his throat.

When Steve arrived at your apartment, he was almost out of breath. He was still anxious, the ride here not doing much to his addled mind. But he was determined.

Rapidly knocking on your front door, Steve composed himself. When it opened, he was met with the sight of your roommate -- the one that he has never met before.

“Ca-Captain America?” she yelped, shocked to see him on the doorstep.

“Is your roommate in?” he steeled.

“Which one—” 

“Steve,” a voice interrupted.

The door pulled further, widening the entrance. Steve was met with your familiar roommate. She was tense, arms locked across her chest, eyes full of fury. Steve detected something else in them; worry.

“You fucked up,” she said. He winced.

“I know,” he admitted. “And I’m here to make things right. Can I please see her?”

She sighed, stepping in, nodding towards your room. 

Steve hastily walked in, stopping in front of your door. He knocked thrice, signalling you, before turning the knob. It was unlocked. The room was dark when he entered, every source of light switched off, except for your curtains. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed was you, figure illuminated by the street lights against pitch black darkness. When he stepped in closer, you looked up, eyes meeting his. 

Steve turned on the lights and closed the door. He took a good look at you; hair frazzled, eyes bloodshot and dry, nose red. You were the image of heartbreak.

“Are you ashamed of me?” you asked, eyes locked with his. 

“What? No, I—“

“Is it because I’m not strong?” you cut him off. “I know she’s Peggy’s niece… a-and I know how much you loved her. She was your first love.”

“She and I, it’s all in the past. She moved on and lived her life, and I… did too.”

“But did you really, Steve? Move on?” you whispered, getting up. You stood in front of him. Steve could see how puffed your eyes were from crying. “Or was I just… a rebound?”

“No. No, you were never a rebound,” he took hold of your forearms. “I care for you, too much.”

“Then why?!” you shrieked, shocking Steve. “Why the secrets? Why the hiding? Steve, you’ve never even introduced me to your friends. Shouldn’t they know?”

“I wanted to protect you!”

“Protect me from what?!” you roared, eyes full of fury. “The Avengers? If they knew about me, they would protect me. Don’t you think so?”

Steve had no words to that, his mind a jumbled mess.

“I’m… beginning to think that you’re embarrassed with me,” you sighed. “We’ve never been on a date publicly, as each other. We’ve never held hands in public. I want you to meet my friends. I want to introduce you to them, and maybe soon, I want you to meet my family.”

“B-but, I’m tired, Steve. Tired of all the hiding. Of all the sneaking around. I want to tell the world that I’m in love with Steve Rogers, not Captain America,” you sighed, shedding a few tears.

You waited for his reply, only to be disappointed. 

“You know I can’t do that.”

You saw red. All you saw was red. 

You started pushing him, swatting him in the chest. Steve didn’t fight back, letting you unleash your anger, your disappointment. He took your hits, letting you release your pent up emotions. He began backing away when you started advancing, back against the door.

“Get out! Get out!” you screeched, pushing him.

When he unlocked the door and crossed, you immediately shut the door in his face. Steve heard sobbing from inside, his heart shattering at the sounds. 

“This way, Captain,” your roommate approached him, showing him to the door.

Steve relented, shame flooding him. He fucked up.

You stopped visiting The Sleeping Cat, wanting to avoid him at all costs. You blocked his number. You immersed yourself in your work, prepping for the upcoming charity gala. 

Sometimes you find yourself thinking about him when sleep proved to be difficult. It’s when you’re laying at night that you missed him the most.

But it was for the best, you reasoned. For you and him.

The Avengers PR had pushed for a fix-it, publishing a story that spoke a truth. ‘Just Friends: Romantic Allegations Proved False’. Steve had hoped you’d seen it. 

He called you every day but found himself blocked from everything. He still tried, hoping you’d come around one day. He came by The Sleeping Cat every other day, sitting in the same spot, hoping to catch you. 

But you never came.

You clasped the necklace in place, admiring how it sat on your clavicle through the mirror. You took a step back and took yourself in, smiling at what you saw. It didn’t reach your eyes.

Today was the day of the Valentines gala and you weren’t feeling particularly giddy about it. 

Opening your phone, you stared at the one contact that stood out, finger hovering over his name. That name used to give you so many feelings, but today it was a reminder that you were going alone, again.

Sighing, you threw it in your purse and left. Another lonely night, and on an even celebrating love.

Days turned into weeks, and soon, before he knew it, the day of your Valentines gala arrived. 

Steve stared at the calendar. The heart-shaped doodle he drew called out to him, reminding him of fond memories. Fond memories that seemed like a distant dream. But then, he went back to last week, and it all came crashing.

He had hurt you. While thinking he was protecting you, he hadn’t realized he was inadvertently pushing you away. He had no one to blame but himself. 

He loved you. No, still loves you. You grounded him, gave him the normalcy that he craved. Reminded him of a distant time before he was Captain America. 

You made him feel like the boy from Brooklyn again.

While he was ruminating in his feelings, Steve was caught off-guard when the door burst open with Tony Stark coming through. From his peripheral, he could see Bucky and Sam peeking through the frame.

“Heard from the Manchurian Candidate that someone has a case of the achy breaky heart,” Tony said, smug.

“Leave me alone, Tony. I’m not in the mood,” he grumbled, setting down the calendar. 

“And leave you wallowing like shit while your girl is out there probably equally miserable? I know a thing or two about women, Rogers, and it’s that they don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Tony snapped his fingers and from behind, Sam came in with a tuxedo in hand.

“Thought you might need this,” Sam said. 

Bucky came out behind him, with a brush and can of hairspray. “And I still know how to do hair.”

“And I have friends in places,” Tony quipped. “I can get you in.”

Steve was surprised. His friends had surprised him. You would’ve loved them. He was left speechless.

“What are you waiting for, Cap? Suit up.” Tony winked.

Swirling the glass of rosé, your gaze fell towards the dance floor. An upbeat song was being played as people flocked near the middle, letting their bodies take charge for the night. You saw your former co-workers among the throng, hands thrown around their significant others, having the time of their lives.

The gala was in full swing, if the crowd and chatter was any indication. Red and roses were the main theme, with a red carpet stretching from the grand staircase towards the main hall and roses lining every corner and wall. Taking it all in, you were proud to see your ideas visualized and work came to fruition.

You sipped your rosé, enjoying every bit of the gala as you could. From the sidelines, you spoke with a few potential clients and art collectors. Their presence made you feel your importance, and if you dared say it, a little less lonely.

It was during one of your little chats that you didn’t realize when the hall suddenly fell quiet. You turned around when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi folks, mind if I crash your party?”

Steve smiled at Tony’s antics. They both had arrived at the gallery dressed in their best, and with Tony’s connections, they were granted access. 

Stepping down the grand staircase, Steve felt all eyes on him. He paid them no mind, the thought of you the only occupant of his racing mind. Gazing over the crowd, Steve spotted you to the side, occupied in a chatter. 

Taking deliberate steps, Steve soon found himself behind you. He admired your gown and hair, it entranced him. You still hadn’t registered his presence, even when your partner had ceased chatting and was now staring at him.

With a tap on your shoulder, he was taken away as immediately as you spun around. Steve took in your whole image; your dolled-up face, your intricate dress, your styled hair. It left him floored.

You always did manage to take his breath away. Was this what he had been missing out all this time?

Taking your unoccupied hand, Steve pressed a small kiss before meeting your eyes. 

“May I have this dance?”

Giving away your drink, you took his hand as he pulled your towards the centre, taking space among the crowd. A slow number started, and before you realized, you were swept in a slow dance. It didn’t take long before you felt the sensation of his two left feet.

“Sorry, a hundred years and you’d think I’d know how to dance,” he said.

A small smile lightened your face. Steve savoured it all he could. Gulping, he took the first step.

“I’m... sorry for what I’ve done. I realize now that you were right,” he started. “I thought I was protecting you, but now I see that all it did was push you away. You have all the rights to be mad at me. I was being an idiot, a selfish one. I didn’t think about how you felt about it.”

You winced. Steve had stepped on your toes again. He murmured an apology, resorting to swaying instead.

“Can we start again? No more hiding. No more disguises,” he breathed, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “ We can meet your friends, you can meet mine. Bucky’s been pestering me to bring you to the compound, he wants to meet you.”

You laughed. How Steve had missed the tune.

“How can I make it up to you? How do you want to take the first step? A picnic at Central Park? Dinner at the compound? A trip to the beach?”

You seemed to contemplate, a thoughtful look on your face. You both failed to realize all the eyes on you two.

“How about now?”

“Right here? Right now?” he asked.

“Yes, right here, right now,” you said, determined.

Without hesitation —no more— Steve dived in, planting a kiss on your wine-coloured lips for the whole world to see. Your first kiss in public, yet it felt as if it was only the two of you there, lost in the moment. 

You both didn’t notice the gasping crowd nor the clicks of cameras from photographers nor the booming laughter of Tony Stark. You both only felt the other in your orbit, and that was all that mattered.

“Can you put that down? You’ve been staring at it for the past hour.”

You pouted, setting the frame on the side table, where it has been designated since its publication. 

“I can’t help it, I think it’s a good shot. Don’t you think so, Alpine?” you petted the snowy white cat lazing on the arm of the sofa. Its’ purrs intensified.

“Dinner’s ready!” Bucky shouted.

You and Steve left the room, joining the others in the dining room for dinner. On the side table, the framed article sat neatly, showcasing the tale of the famed occurrence that took place at a charity gala.

‘America’s Girl: The Modern Woman of The Captain’s Dreams.’

Fin.

[suicidalslasher]

𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚 - 𝒋𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒅.

the one where Jason is a jealous  dumbass,  that’s it -  that’s the plot.

WARNINGS: This is a Jason Dean fanfiction, therefore, you all know what you’re signing up for. I don’t really got to tell you, twice. 

  Possessive!Jason. Jealous!Jason. Female reader, reader’s pronouns are she/her. 

Slight mention and scene of choking but it’s not graphic. A hint of NSFW but it isn’t shown. Also there’s a few mentions of blood but it’s not a lot, either. I wanted to tag that nonetheless, too. Also, Jason actually shows emotions in this which is out of character but in MY world, Jason Dean is a simp to his girlfriend and would rather die than to live a day without her. 

I may add the smut scene later on, who knows?  Not me. This is my first imagine of Jason Dean so be nice to me or I’ll be like Ghostface and gut you like a fish (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*  

If you enjoyed this story, don’t hesitate to follow and or leave me a request, as they are open. If you also like my work and or have a dollar to  spare, as it will help me write and create more stories like this one, my ko-fi is here. 

Thank you and enjoy :)

White knuckles from clenching his fists too hard, and gritted teeth from effort to remain silent, Jason bit back his words, knowing they'd be harsh and full of  poison.  He's fully aware of how much damage he'd likely cause if he spit out the words that were on his mind.  He was going to break, and he knew it wasn't going to take too long until he did so.   Yet, as the female continued to talk beside him as an attempt to grab his attention, the feelings only grew larger and he dug his teeth into his bottom lip, the metallic taste of blood trickling on the tip of his tongue.   Jason swallowed that anger when it was nothing but a fire-seed and he had forgotten to drink something cold right after, in an effort to calm himself down;   therefore, it grew in his stomach until it came out hotter than any dragon breath.... all those negative emotions that swam in his veins  and crept in the pit of his stomach exploded and all the feelings he desperately was trying to hold back came burning on the one person he loved the most, his girlfriend, (Y/N). His face was red with suppressed rage and when (Y/N)  set her finger on his shoulder, he swung around and mentally snapped, his nostrils flared  and his pupils were blown and dilated  as he snarled like an  out of control beast.  "I hate him more than I do the Heathers," spat Jason,  as he pushes his girlfriend up against the wall, the framed photograph that hung there now remained at the bottom of their feet, shattered into hundreds of pieces.   "I don't like you hanging out with him." Jason growled, his fingers curling around (Y/N)'s throat, feeling her pulse begin to quicken  as he presses his weight down onto the palm of his hand.  "Do you know how much it hurts to see you look at someone else? To see you smile at someone else? It makes me feel sick.”     "Jason... Let go of me. Let's talk. Please? You don't even know him... if you'll let me speak and tell you-"  "You love him, don't you?" Jason hisses, the sentence feeling like a slap to (Y/N)'s face as he throws out this statement.... it was a lie, that's what it was and (Y/N) desperately was trying to tell him how wrong he was but he just wouldn't listen, the arrogant  son of a bitch never listens!    "You love him more than you do me."  Before either teen realizes it, Jason is letting go of (Y/N)'s throat only for him to raise his hand up  into a fist and he's punching the only other framed photograph that was beside her, the glass shattering behind his knuckles. (Y/N) screams in horror and although she's pissed off, she - obviously - still cares about her boyfriend.  "Jason!" (Y/N) yelps, tears falling down her cheeks as she rushes to her boyfriend's side, examining his hand which was now dripping with crimson, a few drops of red landing on the now broken picture frame and the wooden floor beneath their feet. "C'mon, I've got a first aid kit around here, somewhere-" "You love him." Jason repeats, ignoring the fact she was trying to help him.  He pulls his hand back, dropping his arm by his side, not  even caring about the way the blood was falling from his knuckles and staining both his pants and shirt. The anger and venom that once coated his words were now replaced with a hint of sadness and heartbreak.  She's never seen him this upset before.... regardless, if he'd just calm down, she could explain.  "Jason, baby-" His voice broke as he looked up at (Y/N), sad eyes meeting with her confused but angry gaze. On top of those, she was sad, too.   "Go then. Go to him, if you prefer to spend your day with him rather than your own boyfriend. You don't care about me, I'm not sure you ever did."  (Y/N) sighed, shaking her head as a few more tears spill past her cheeks. "Fine. If you won't let me talk and tell you my side of the story, I'm leaving. If that's what you think and if you truly think I don't give a fuck about you, I'm gone." (Y/N) mutters, letting go of his hand as she walks back over to the door, grabbing her keys and wallet before storming out the door, slamming the door shut as she leaves.

A week passes. 

Another week following behind that.  

(Y/N) didn't bother to call or show up.

He really fucked things up, didn't he? 

Jason wasn't huge on  showcasing his feelings and putting them out on display for people to see. The only emotion he was so used to showing was anger and madness. Nothing but chaos was built and stored away in Jason Dean's body, too.  All three traits made him who he was.  People may not like him because of his temper and all the flaws he had but it was him, and he didn't plan on changing for anybody.  Expect.... of course, (Y/N). As he sat alone in his bedroom, he felt depressed. He never cried, either.  Couldn't tell you the last time he ever did cry. Did he even cry as a baby? Jason wasn't sure, nor could he tell you.  

But.... Jason cried. For the first time in forever, he broke down and cried. Couldn't help himself.  By the end of the night, there were no tears left to cry. He had run dry. His body couldn't form any more tears.   Feeling both mentally and physically drained, Jason reached over and grabbed his phone off of the night stand, dialing the one number he actually had memorized.  All he got was her voicemail.   "This is (Y/N). I can't answer the phone at the moment but  I will get back to you as soon as I can! Bye!"  Jason groaned and he was half-tempted to throw the phone out of his window but he decided against it as he left a voicemail, regardless. He wanted (Y/N) to know he was sorry. 

He wanted (Y/N) to know that despite their arguments (which weren't constant but when they did fight, it was mainly due to Jason's behavior rather than her own) he loves her.  

 (Y/N) coming into his life was the only good thing the world had offered and gave him. He wasn't going to give her up. Not that easily, anyways.  "Hey." He had forgotten he was leaving a voicemail, having zoned out for a second, the beep brought him back out of his thoughts.  "It's me. Uh.... Jason.... your boyfriend? I hope so, anyway, still.... But, yeah, it's Jason.... Jason Dean.... ha, uh.... you knew that.

  Listen, I'm sorry for everything,  (Y/N).  I'm sorry for having that temper tantrum and taking out my frustration and jealousy on you. I'm not good at this type of stuff, not so great with showing my emotions in person either, so....

 I'll talk here,  hopefully the message goes all the way through. I don't want to say this in person, again, I'm not good at the whole unraveling my feelings, especially not face to face.

 But... (Y/N), baby, you're the best thing that's ever been mine. You're my darlin', my girl, and I got jealous because I was scared, okay? 

I was scared of losing you. And I'm telling you this because it's been awhile now and I haven't seen you around or heard from you in awhile. Therefore, I may have already lost you but.... I love you, (Y/N)... and I'm sorry, okay? 

Thought you'd never hear me say that, huh? Me, apologizing? That's like... once in a blue moon. Hah.....  

But, uh... well, it's true. I'm sorry and I, Jason Dean, love you, (Y/N) (L/N). And I hope that you still love me too."   With that, Jason ends the call, hanging the phone back up on the table as he falls back onto the bed. He didn't - doesn't - know what to do if he didn't have (Y/N) by his side.   Trying to ignore these thoughts and place his attention elsewhere, he decides he needs to focus on sleeping. His body was exhausted after all that crying, plus the punch to the picture frame was still making his hand ache and throb, despite it being a few weeks since he had done it. 

He had one hell of a nasty bruise, too. He was sure it wouldn't look so ugly and scarred if he  had listened to (Y/N) and taken her up on that offer when she suggested the first aid kit...  Before he knows it, he's drifting off into a deep slumber, naturally bringing a pillow into his chest, tucking it underneath his arm as he falls asleep.   

Faint whispers of (Y/N)'s name spills pass his lips as he sleeps. He'd rather be cuddling her than a pillow but he'll take what he can get. He just hopes she'll accept his apology.  

(Y/N) gets home a little after midnight, sighing heavily and tiredly as she kicks off her shoes and strips out of her jacket, hanging the coat up first before setting her shoes under the rack. She had just finished unpacking and helping her cousin move things in his new apartment and she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was take a shower and go to bed. 

 In the corner of her eye, however, she notices her answering machine is flashing red, letting her know someone had left a voicemail.  She walks over and clicks on the button, expecting it to be for  her parents but instead she's met with a shocking fate - it was Jason.  

Hearing his voice, so weak and vulnerable, brought tears to her eyes and she bit back a sob. Especially when he apologized, that was new. 

They've said those three words to each other before, of course, but it was hearing how sad he sounded that let her know he truly did love her, despite everything they've been through and all the silly arguments they've shared over the past few months; they loved each other. 

 And nothing - nobody - could ever stand in the way of that.   Jason was still a huge dumbass, however. 

And as she grabs her jacket, sliding the thick layer of clothing around herself and dips her feet into her boots, she's quick to go and tell him that, too.  

She loves him, yes, but she needs to let him know he was a  huge fucking idiot. 

Jason, for the most post, was sleeping peacefully until he heard a loud crash coming from downstairs, along with a string of curse words. 

  He was quick to get up, throwing the blanket and pillow aside as he opened his bedroom door and creeps down the hallway, wondering who the hell was in his living room.   

He was met with.... well, not a burglar  neither his father as he would have guessed the next outcome to be but rather his girlfriend.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here?" He asks, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands as he tried to shake off the remaining sleep that had taken over him not even a few hours ago. 

"I came here to scare you, obviously." She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she scrambles up and off of the floor, brushing her knees and arms from the fall she had taken.  "Your door was locked, couldn't find the extra key anywhere so I snuck in through the window and-"

"And... you're bleeding." Jason said, gesturing to the tiny gash on her arm.   "C'mon, I've got a first aid kit around here somewhere." He mocks, giving her a playful smile as he quoted the words she had said to him the day they got into that fight. 

 (Y/N) said nothing but she follows when Jason offers his hand out to her, anyway.   He was surprised when he did find the small box up in a cabinet.   

"It's fine. I'm fine. Nothing  a bandage won't fix, right?" 

"(Y/N). Why are you here? You never did answer me." Jason said, getting out the tiny box of band-aids, ripping one open as he presses the item down onto her arm. She was right, it wasn't a big cut, a few drops of blood, sure, but it wasn't one that'd get infected.  

"I got your voice message." She said with a shrug of her shoulders. "And I came to talk to you about it."

He wasn't sure whether or not that was a good or bad thing.

 "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. You're a dumbass." 

Oh. 

 It was bad. 

He felt his heart drop down to his stomach. He really let his jealousy get the best of him and now he was going to lose the one good thing he had in his life. 

"I love you but you didn't let me speak," She continued.  "That guy you saw... first of all, you have no right to judge him or say you hate him when you have no idea who he is. That dude I was seen with was my cousin, who, may I add, is gay.” 

“I’ve been helping him move which is why you saw me in town with him. We were getting a few supplies and picking up his furniture.” She continues.

“You got jealous over a guy who is far from being attracted to  females. And you know... he's related to me as well, so, that also plays a huge part in it. And if you didn't notice either, the picture you broke was actually a portrait of my family and his together at a family reunion. Of course, you didn't see that, though or probably even noticed but.... yeah, you're a dumbass. I love you, J.D, but you're an idiot for thinking I'd ever love someone more than I love you." 

Jason says nothing, he feels embarrassed, ashamed, but overall; he feels happy, knowing she still loves him, even if he was a total moron.  "I'm sorry, baby, I got jealous and I shouldn't jump so quickly to conclusions  and-"

"And you need to make up for it." She said, pressing her chest up against his, resting her hand on the palm of his cheek, brushing a few stray hairs out from his face as she gives him a seductive look. "And how.... exactly, are you going to make up for it, baby?" She purred. 

"I think I've an idea." He said with a smirk.

"Oh, yeah? While you're at it, can you choke me like you did, too?" 

"I'll do more than just choke you with my hand, darling." 

"To be suffocated and to choke on either your cock and hand would be a blessing, my dear." 

"Then let's go upstairs, shall we?"

(Y/N) smiled and took Jason's hand with her own, giggling as if she wasn't just talking about getting choked by her boyfriend, as if she was some saint rather than a sinner. Fuck... Jason loves how dirty she was. "We shall." He replies, nearly dragging her up the stairs and into his bedroom. 

"Going to show you how much I love you, going to treat you so good, so well, baby girl... missed you so much, love you so much..." 

[undertaker1827]

Could you do 15 20 and 23 for Undertaker and their s/o finding out he is a grim reaper not being afraid of him bec she knew from the very moment they met, he was different and accepted that from the very start. [sorry for my english]

Of course! And your English is great! Also I kinda got carried away (there’s around 2k words) I just loved the prompt. Enjoy! 

Prompts in bold

❗️Warnings; Canon-typical violence, reader gets attacked/minorly injured (UT saves the day, tis all good), said attacker gets knocked unconscious and doubting & hurt/comfort-ing ensues, but there’s a fluffy end I promise

Masterlist

-

Your steps echoed through the dark, empty city streets, not a soul about apart from you. It was to be expected, you supposed; after all, it was midnight. You had been out with a few friends and the time had just slipped away from you all until you remembered that you had work in the morning and you needed to get home quickly. Having not intended to be so long, the only mode of transport was either walking or getting a taxi, and the latter seemed a little ridiculous to you given that your apartment was only just around the corner. That led to where you were now, taking a shortcut through a less than advisable area of town so you would get home quickly.

There was a sudden scuffle behind you and your whole body tensed, heart jumping and mind racing with possibilities. You risked taking a glance behind you, doing your best to slow your breathing when you realised nothing was there. Unnerved but determined, you carried on at a slightly faster pace and focused on getting to the door of your building, which was now only a few minutes away, less if you were to walk any more quickly. The second noise you heard behind you was closer than the first and enough to set your every nerve on edge.

Nausea crawled up the back of your throat when you distinctly sensed someone following you, heard their footfalls as they broke into a run and felt each limb start to tremble with the ensuing rush o adrenalin. You broke into a full sprint hardly daring to turn for long enough to make out any more than a figure dressed in black, face covered by fabric and holding something that glinted in the halo of light coming from the back window of someone’s workshop - - was that a knife? The thought spurred you on even more heart pounding and preparing to scream for help, but you just weren’t fast enough.

You let out a muffled yell as you were tripped up and landed unceremoniously on the concrete pavement, chin scraped and lip split as your face collided with it. You couldn’t care less about that now though, immediately twisting over and trying to haul yourself to your feet, ignoring the pain blossoming from the ankle you landed on. Again though, you were too slow; a hand pressed to your mouth and a steel blade to your throat prevented any escape attempts you were going to make. Your eyes widened in fear and you desperately tried to press yourself further back into the concrete, but it was no good.

“Stay still,” your attacker hissed out at you, digging the knife a little further into your neck, “and be quiet.”

You hands gripped his wrist automatically, fingers trembling, but both your attentions were drawn by the arrival of a second person. You looked over your shoulder to find a man silhouetted at the near end of the backstreet you were in, a large, familiar coat flaring out around him and one arm out to the side, holding a… stick? Whatever your attacker was going to say, be it a warning to leave or a lie that this wasn’t what it looked like, the other spoke before he had the chance.

“I will say this once, and once only,” he said in a cold, hard voice, so different from his normal joking tone and one you hadn’t ever heard him use before. “Let them go.” Each word was pronounced individually, as if being made clear to a child who was likely to misunderstand. He took a step forward to punctuate each one, now close enough that you could see the grey hair that draped over his shoulders and hung down his back. The stick was a sotoba, you realised, you had seen a few of them scattered around his parlour. You always thought they were there for the aesthetic.

Fear still coursed through you, but now it was for your long term partner as well as yourself. What did he hope to accomplish against a man who held a knife to your throat?

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but I suggest you go before you cause anymore bloodshed.” This was accompanied by a poignant press of the knife to your neck, a single, hot drop of blood trailing don your skin. And there was something else you never expected to see displayed by your beloved Undertaker. Pure, barely restrained rage.

You hardly managed to keep track of the events that unfolded, but one minute he was standing there a few paces away and the next he was right next to you. The knife dropped to the floor with a clatter and your attacker let out a cry of pain. If the angle of it was anything to go by, his wrist was both dislocated and broken. You couldn’t help the way your eyes widened as the mortician grabbed the man by his collar and held him as high into the air as possible, then threw him back against the brick wall of the building he had been holding you against just moments earlier. You floundered for a second or two before realising there was a massive blade held to the man’s throat, a polished silver that curved gracefully into a human skull and ribcage, the spine of which had been whittled down to a handle that was easily as long as you were tall. The sotoba was gone.

As your gaze trailed back up Undertaker’s form, you came to a second realisation. His bangs were shoved back away from his face and you could see his eyes. And they were glowing. He seemed utterly detached from the man’s frightened whimpering, as if his begging made no sound at all.

“You thought it would be fun, I believe,” he stated in confident mockery, “to pick on someone weaker than yourself. How does it feel now, hm?” The mortician let him drop down a few inches as his hand found purchase on his throat, grip tightening until you could see it was a physical struggle to breath. “How dare you.” The last had fallen to a threatening whisper, Undertaker’s face far too close to the other’s. You could see the man’s struggle was weakening, the lack of air starting to have its effect. “I won’t kill you,” Undertaker muttered at length, “you aren’t worth my time.”

With that, he let go entirely, disinterested gaze watching as the man crumpled to the floor. His eyes then flicked over to you, taking in the hand you were holding to your throat and the fear practically radiating off of you in waves. He fancied he could hear your heartbeat even as you stood several steps away. The mortician languidly held out a hand as he said your name, waiting until you moved towards him to pull you into his chest.

You thought you had only blinked once, but in that fraction of a second, all of your surroundings had changed. It was Undertaker’s parlour that you were standing in now, not some dingy side street with a man who had tried to kill you now laying unconscious against a wall. The mortician stepped away from you quickly, a little too quickly really, and moved to lay the scythe against a coffin. You stood still, unsure what to do after everything that had just taken place and unprepared with the intensity that would come from your partner’s gaze when he turned back around on his heel to face you.

“Are you alright?” It was still the same, serious voice from before, though now instead of being laced with anger, all you could hear was concern. Your fingertips drifted back to your throat as you contemplated whether you actually were alright or not, though you frowned when Undertaker went to reach towards you then stopped, almost as if catching himself from doing something he knew he shouldn’t. Your frown only deepened when he stayed an arm’s length away. Physical contact was always something he had loved, craved even, so why he was acting so strangely now when you could really do with the contact you didn’t know. You made the executive decision then that his bizarre reasoning didn’t matter, opting to close the distance between you and wrap your arms securely around his body, head tucked into his shoulder and eyes closed. You were still shaking and Undertaker ached with a deep, broken sadness so strong that he didn’t realise he was once again raising his arms to hold you. He dropped them immediately, but you were still just standing there and now it seemed like you were holding back tears as well and everything he did was just making things worse -

“Fox?” You whimpered out the name you had adopted for him past the obvious lump in your throat and he could have sworn that he had never felt so guilty for anything before.

“Yes?” His voice was hoarse too.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this, but please just hold me.” Your words were so small and frightened, something in the reaper just snapped. A hand on your side brought you impossibly closer to his and he hauled you up into his arms, one hand supporting your back and the other carding back through your hair as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He pressed his nose against your neck, avoiding the injured part, and left a series of gentle kisses there as sobs started to wrack your frame. You had no idea how long you stayed like that but over time, you became aware of the reaper murmuring the same set of words against your skin, over and over again.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

He was holding you so tightly that something in him was afraid he might hurt you, but you were holding him in return and he couldn’t bring himself to let go. Your tears having finally subsided, you tilted your head to leave a kiss on his jaw, halting his flow of words.

“Stop apologising, you have nothing to be sorry for.” The chartreuse eyes that met yours were full of so many different emotions that it was almost overwhelming. He moved a hand to cup your face, thumb carefully brushing over your lower lip.

“You’re not afraid of me?” Your stomach dropped at the fact that he thought you would be.

“You’ve given me no reason to be.” He looked for a moment like he didn’t want to believe you, so you took his face in your hands and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, relief flooding you when he kissed you back. “I knew you were different,” you continued, not breaking eye contact, “I’ve always known. I just didn’t know how.” The mortician gave a small nod.

“I’m a reaper,” he told you, “retired. It was my job among many others to collect the souls of the dead.” You just nodded, smiling a little. He let out a sigh as his eyes caught the crimson staining on your neck. “Let me do something with that.” Another smile.

“Thank you.”

-

Undertaker cleaned and covered your wound efficiently but with gentle hands, making sure he didn’t hurt you. From the angle your head was at to give him best access to your injury, you could just see the top of his grey hair, feel its weight over your legs as he leaned close to you. You started running your hands through it and playing with the ends almost subconsciously, missing the small glance he gave you out of the corner of his eye.

The mortician only moved back a fraction when he finished seeing to your neck, close enough that you could still play with his hair. Close enough that he could see you rather than sense you and do so without the need for corrective lenses. You looked straight back at him though, and stole the words he was going to speak before he had the chance.

“You’re so beautiful.” He tilted his head affectionately, a few strands of hair crossing his eyes and leading you to push them out of the way. The reaper leaned into your touch immediately and you buried your hand in his hair, fingertips trailing over the roots. His eyes were soft when he opened them again.

“You’re the beautiful one, love.”

[juminly]

The Death of Me (Nobunaga x Reader)

Fandom: Ikémen Sengoku.  Pairing: Nobunaga Oda x F!Reader.  Summary: After being away from you for a while, Nobunaga finally comes back... and he misses you so.

Rating: Explicit. (Minors, DNI)

Warnings: Fingering, Teasing, Nipple Play, Dom/Sub Undertones, Slight Exhibitionism, Very Very Light Choking, Dirty Talk, Marking, Implied Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Doggy-Style.  –♥– ”Why is my queen looking up at the midnight sky when she should be waiting and watching the woods, seeking my arrival?”

His low husky voice swept into your ears without warning, it was unclear whether it was the sudden gust of wind that sent your skin shivering or if it was the sensation of having your Devil King pressed against your back, hovering behind you as he settled his chin on your shoulder and his hands found home on the top of your thighs. You knew better than that, feeling the minuscule movement of his hands as they began to travel up your body. He murmured against the column of your throat but all you wanted to know was if your Nobu was safe and sound and if his mission was successful. When you parted your lips to speak, the way his name fell from your lips in an inquisitive tone, your lover knew exactly what you were going to say and what was going through your mind and reassuring you was absolutely his top priority before anything else. He was still human after all and you would fear for his life, even from a mere cold and he has seen it with his own two bloody eyes.

“Tsk, when all my victories are sure and certain, my Queen, you worry about such trivial matter when it seems that my apparent claims of territoires that are exclusively mine and occupied by myself have been fading?” His hands meandering over your supple curves squeezed your small waist, right over the obi that had the kimono you were wearing tied together, tearing your mind away, wondering what your Devil King was talking about and what he was planning to do to you.

"I suppose my fireball is due for a reminder since she's been fiery enough to be wearing my clothes upon my unexpected return." The heat of his breath increased as you felt his lips part against your skin, his teeth grazing ever so gently before sinking into your flesh as he soon sucked on you as gently as he could. Not.

This was only a preamble to what he had planned for you and having spent over a week away from you already had him reeling and aching for a taste of you. The thought finally clicking in you brain, the blemishes that clearly marked you as Nobu's were no longer there. And the thought did not please him in the slightest. However, there was a silver lining. Now he could claim you over again, as he had many times before. As he will continue to do so as long as he is able to breathe.

Sucking in your breath with an audible hiss, you could feel the blood rushing through your veins as Nobu began so diligently marking very visible spots, tactically choosing the lands in which he wanted his claim to be the most apparent. His breathing seemed to be controlled yet you could feel his heart beating fast, hard and strong against your back, his hands were now cupping your breasts, over the fabric of the kimono of his that you had so brazenly worn, the same kimono that you had worn from the desire of wanting to be surrounded by them, the feeling of having him on you, his scent... anything of his.

It was all you needed, especially when he was away. You looked beyond delectable to him...The fact that you were dressed in a piece of apparel of his taunted him in inexplicable ways, especially since you did so when he had been away. What were the thoughts that you had of him when he was away? Were you thinking of him as much as he had been thinking of you? There had been so many thoughts whirling through his mind even as he had been so immersed in his role as King during his mission, yet deep down, nothing could change the fact that he was your lover and he would yearn for you, in any time, any place. He was irrevocably yours and the way you had occupied not only his heart and soul but his mind as well spoke volumes. Someone had to pay and it had be both of you.

His lips were ruthless on your skin, visible dusky spots appearing in his wake as his tongue teased your earlobe as he sucked on it ever so gently and whispered in your ear. "Is my queen glad that I have returned or maybe we shall allow your body to speak for you, hm?" Tracing a wet trail over the seams of your earlobe before speaking once again, every word from him blowing on it and eliciting the slightest of trembles while his calculated motions only caused the sleeves of the kimono to slowly fall off your shoulders, slowly but surely exposing more of your chest, the fabric barely even covering your breasts.

He could feel your pebbled nipples as he gently brushed his fingers over your breasts, the hardened beads noticeable even through the barrier that had dared to separate you from your lover and almost, excruciatingly so, he finally allowed the fabric to fall and unveil what you both sought.You wanted nothing more than his hands on you and he wouldn't even fathom the thought of depriving you of that wish.

Finally, his calloused fingers flicked over the sensitive pebbles while he palmed at the tenderness of your mounds, every part of you hanging on every word he spoke as you were aching to turn around and be utterly consumed by crimson, a pool of darkened blood that had every ounce of your being screaming in yearning. You knew the moment you looked upon it, you would then be rendered completely helpless, not that you already were. You were lying to yourself. As you tried to wriggle in his grasp, wanting to act upon your thoughts, Nobu pinched you, hard enough to elicit a small gasp from you and gentle enough not to hurt you.

"Nobu, please. Let me hold you. I've missed you and I want to just.."  Pushing you against him as he pressed you against the railing of the balcony, you couldn't help but squeal, a surge of adrenaline mixing with the desire rushing through you. "You better not let me go, Nobu. I've waited long for you. Let me have you first and then you can let me go."

Nobu chuckled, the resounding sound making your heart fluttering with happiness as if it were a bell that chimed in reaction to the blissful echo coming from the depth of his throat. ”My fireball has enough energy to tease me even in a compromising situation such as this.”

Finally turning you around, you were finally able to lay your eyes upon your lover. Finally taking him in, knowing that he was safe, knowing that he was back where he belonged, in your arms. You were expecting to see that devilish smirk of his, that expression that made your skin tingle and a deep knot being tied so tightly in your stomach. Yet, you were welcomed by a serene smile and eyes shining with emotions that you could only identify as affection and adoration. Bringing your hands to cradle his face, he leaned down and greeted you with an enrapturing kiss, his tongue stripping you from any thought that wasn't of him in your mind while one of his, hastily slid over your midsection and over the obi that was the only piece that kept the kimono on you, traveling down to smooth his hand over the apex of your thigh.

A deep chuckle resounded from his chest. You, out of everyone in Japan, being able to read his mind on specific occasions and especially in intimate ones, knew what he was thinking and aiming for. As he pressed himself harder against you, pinning you against the railing so you couldn't even move, even if you wanted to, the imprint of his hardness becoming imminent as you felt it probing your waist but you were far more distracted by what he planned to do with those fingers that had been teasing the softness of your inner thigh.

Right when you broke the kiss to catch your breath, Nobu pushed two fingers inside you and curled them immediately, caressing your inner walls and watching you with a fierce gaze, with bated breath that matched yours. “I know how the fire of impatience burns within you, love, I can tell by feeling how wet you are for me. But patience..." His smile grew wider as he watched your back arch and your mouth fall open as he easily slid in a third finger inside you.

"You shall find what you seek. See, I have all the intention to ravish you after I watch you fuck yourself with my fingers and tell me how much you have longed for me in my absence. Move, my love. I want to see your hips thrusting down on my fingers, bringing yourself over the edge, using me just for your own pleasure." One of your hands gripped his hair tightly when the other scratched at the skin of his nape, not even eliciting a wince from him as he watched you with a pleased smiled while you hump his hand, his thumb finally joining to drive you even closer to your climax.

"May the past lie in the past yet I can’t help but find myself curious and jealous of the thought of you not thinking about me the way I’ve been thinking about you. I’ve rode miles before my men as I left them to rest just so I can be here with you, my warrior Queen." Noticing how you had bitten your lips, the influx of sensations coursing through you, your legs quivering and barely managing to keep you standing, your grip around his shoulders even loosening as your strength is slowly drained out of you with the sheer intensity of your desire. His lips crashed down on yours, biting your lower lip and prying your mouth open, taking in the delicious sweet and soft moans that you were making in your kiss.Taking your breath away, his lips still hovered against yours, his eyes now even closer to yours, an unmistakable yearning in them.

"This nonsense of you being my future Queen than actually being my Queen is nothing I want to hear from you. Especially when you know the power you hold over me. People know you as The Queen that reins over the Devil King himself and that is not something that I'm saying.” What he told you were not just mere words, coming from him, they meant more, they weighed so heavily on your heart as you continue to get more acquainted with how deep his love truly runs for you. Brushing his lips gently across your cheeks, he whispered in your ear.

"It is what the people say. And I can tell you... It's true." And that's when you snapped. Your vision blurred as the waves of pleasure came crashing down on you, your core clamping down on his fingers which he was now pumping in you, helping you ride out the aftershock of what was just the prelude of the night. And he wasn't going to stop there.

"You're going to turn around for me, Queen of mine and let me fuck right under the midnight sky, so that the Heavens can look upon us and watch me as I claim you as mine and no one has a single say in it but me... and you." He spoke as he licked your slickness that dripped from his fingers, his attitude as haughty as it had always been but there was so much more in it than that. The vulnerability dripped from every word he said, the way the crimson of his eyes shined for comfort, for solace that he could find within and with you.

Removing your hands from around his shoulders, he brought of your hands to his lips, kissing your hands and your palms before turning you around and placing them on the rails of the balcony. "Since you had so eagerly took it upon yourself to decorate your body with a kimono of mine, you will not be taking it off until I am through with you." Pushing the fabric of the kimono to the side and exposing the lower half of your body to the cold wind, shivers ran over your skin but soon, you would have enough to warm you up.

"Nobu, I don't think I can stan... Ahh..." With a swift thrust, your King had completely sheathed himself inside you and began rocking his hips against yours, the slap of his skin against your behind joining the chiming of the cicadas that accompanied you in your intimate reunion. Your slick from your previous release only aided him in thrusting in and out of you at an intense pace, each time he plunged deep inside of you, the head of his cock would brush that sweet spot of yours and your body rocking forward with the sheer force of your warrior.

One of his hands were wrapped around your neck when the other had been placed on your lower stomach, his middle finger running incoherent and cruel circles over your sensitive nub. By the end of that night, you knew that you would be shaking from overstimulation and it was clearly bound to happen. Squeezing his hand around your throat briefly, Nobunaga growled against your neck. "Right after I'm done fucking you on the balcony, I'm going to carry you to my room and you're going to show me exactly what you were thinking of doing to me while I was gone." He chuckled lightly and kissed your cheek, the gesture almost a little too sweet for what he was doing to you. Completely and utterly wrecking your body.

"I'm going to watch you 'bounce on my dick' as you always say in the middle of your sleep, your naughty thoughts always revealing themselves to me. Shamelessly. And I wouldn't accept otherwise. Just like how your body tells me how much you want me. Your cunt is milking my cock so good... Gods... What are you doing to me?"

Gripping you a tad bit tighter, he turned your head so he could kiss you senseless, his hold on you the only thing keeping you both seemingly grounded. "You'll suck both your cum and mine off me, looking at me with those fiery eyes as you devour me whole and show me how determined you are to make me weak for you. Hah... Before I... take you all over again... Until you are completely spent. Don't you know how weak for you I am, my love? You... If I'll allow anything or anyone to be the death of me, it would be you..."

Only you... –♥– Tagging: @delicateikemenmemes, @sweetlittlemouse come get your man... again hehe.  Please feel free to leave some love in the comments or some feedback!💜 You can also check out my Masterlist !