#need a rug for outside the shower an you know what WHY NOT RIGHT?

[pearl-kite]

rug hooking, hnggg

[saltofmercury]

As someone who has just fallen for König, thank you for the reading material. He's just more adorable now. May I request a 'there was only one bed' trope with König? If you don't feel comfortable with it or need anything else please let me know. <3

First of all, very very special thank you. You are the first to make me think of TWO ideas for this prompt but I will be publishing that one later.

Second, I’m surprised I never thought of this prompt for myself!

Anyway I love u and I hope you like this version and I’ll tag ya in the second one.

“There’s only one.”

At the start of your relationship, König was polite. Too polite. Maybe it was the cultural differences or the military instilled in him but between you two but he always kept his distance from you.

He asked to hold your hand when many other men would just simply grab your hand and intertwine their fingers against yours.

He asked if he could have a kiss, it was cute, almost innocent the way he asked as if he would get in trouble if he stole one.

Further down your relationship when you spent the night at each other’s houses he would leave you in his room while he took the couch. Same thing when he stayed at your house. He took your couch and never gave it a second thought.

You always respected this, even appreciated that he was so gentle with you, he was never one to be so forward with you, but it was just eating you up inside… does he really like me?

*

One afternoon while you two were building a puzzle together he casually brought up a “holiday” for you two.

“It’s not far, it’s technically up north from where we are now.”

You looked up at him from the table still holding a blue piece clearly not finding its spot. Was this extra?

“You want to go up north?” You say, still concentrating if the manufacturer had given you 501 pieces instead.

“I think it would be fun. A change of environment” he had said simply. He looked down now hoping you would say yes. He was fidgeting in the middle of the puzzle. König was so backwards to you. He worked on the middle of the puzzle and then slowly worked out.

You thought it over.

It was harmless, you needed a break from work and you craved a little more interaction, affection from him.

“Okay let’s do it.”

*

The ride up north should have been long, tedious, and never ending. Surprisingly it had become a great window of opportunity for the two of you. He told you about his childhood. A restless, dangerous, and tornado of a child in his backyard.

You loved when he talked to you about his childhood, it helped you piece together the guy that he was today. You laughed and smiled at all his expressions, his concentration to storytelling.

When you had arrived at the hotel, he took the opportunity to unpack for you and carry your luggage as you went to reserve a spot for dinner.

You requested an outside table, the wait would be about 30 minutes, right as the host called out to you, and he appeared in front of you half an hour later.

“Jesus,” you said sarcastically.

“Was pretty sure you abandoned me.”

He smiled at you, “No, just last minute details I needed to fix.”

You wanted to ask what details he was referring to, but the waiter approached your table to discuss specials.

*

It wasn’t until after dinner that you noticed him off. He kept fidgeting and finding an excuse to not go to the hotel.

“Do you want to see the park?” “Maybe there’s a fun event happening tonight.”

It has been a pretty long drive and a long day. What you really wanted to do was unwind for the day, shower, and wear cozy pajamas.

“No, maybe tomorrow, why don’t we go back?”

He looked nervous. Took a deep breath and agreed.

“Okay, let’s go back.”

*

You approached the hotel, rushed upstairs with him. Commenting on their choice of artwork.

Would you look at the rug? Gosh it makes me feel dizzy.

Look at this picture, it’s teal and the carpet is red!

He responded with small hums.

He opened the door for you, you ran inside the bathroom. You needed to wash away the sweat and grime of the day.

Once finished, you stepped outside, looking for your lotion and pj’s. You saw König sitting at the edge of the bed, elbows to his knees, rubbing his hands in circles.

“Are you washing your hands there?” You joked.

He said nothing. You kneeled toward your suitcase, got ready for bed in the bathroom.

“You okay there?” König kept fidgeting with his hands. Why did he seem ..Anxious? You approached him.

“Are you alright?”

He spoke softly, “There’s only one bed.”

“So?” Then it hit you.

Bed. (Singular)

One bed. (Sharing?)

König was sitting at the edge of ONE bed.

Maybe the universe had finally pushed aside the boundaries that König had been so fixated on. You had secretly said a small prayer —thank you so very much.

“Is that a problem?” You asked.

“No.” He was firm, but quickly added “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable. I didn’t plan this.”

You laughed. Only König would think because you shared one bed with one another it was malicious on his part.

“Would you stop it?” You shook your head and pulled him up towards the bed. You pulled back the sheets, nestled the pillows up around you. You pat down the side next to you and wiggled your eyebrows. He settled in. You settled yourself right next to him, a leg over his, an arm over him.

“This is okay. This is more than okay. This is the best..” you yawned

He was stiff. “… dove”

but as he peered down at you, seeing how relaxed you were, you closed your eyes against him, he then got comfortable with you.

“This is okay.” He says back. A confirmation. “The best.”

His heart warmed up with the thought of you being so comfortable, so at peace with him. You didn’t even think twice about sharing a bed with him and he did. Maybe he needed to shut off his brain when it came to you because this felt like home. This felt better than the couch.

He made a mental note of this moment.

It isn’t until weeks later that he confesses to you one night as you snuggle up next to him at his house —

“I don’t know why we didn’t do this sooner…Sleeping next to you is easy.”

[ivystoryweaver]

With you part 8

<-prev next -> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: Marc is determined to fix everything

Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader (Jake Lockley x reader) Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings/notables: Angst, complicated relationship stuff, bit of fluff, cursing, crying. joke about taking painkillers/using food/coffee to cope. Mention of alcoholism, mention of Marc's past. Sex implied but nothing descriptive. No gender-specific language. Let me know if I missed a warning. inaccurate DID, based on the show. Not beta'd

PREVIOUSLY, on "With You"...

If there was anything in this world you wanted, it was for Marc to feel accepted and loved - every single part of him. That, of course, meant Steven, but now it meant Jake too. If Jake didn't want your love, you would have to accept that, but the fact that he seemed to think he didn't even have the right to exist outside his protective role - to ever talk or interact with who he called family, including his alters - it killed you.

That was the last thing you remembered before you passed out asleep on the bathroom floor.

Marc woke up to your alarm, blaring from your phone on the bedside table. Realizing you weren't in bed with him, he rolled over and shut off the annoying sound, then promptly plopped back down on his pillow.

With a huge yawn, he wondered why the hell he felt so tired, and then remembered: Jake. Who knew what he did with the body at night? For Khonshu and...well, maybe even with you.

He groaned, running his hands over his face. How could he actually feel this confusion and apprehension about a part of his own system? He never felt anything like this about Steven. But it was like he told you: he knew Steven. He didn't know Jake.

They had communicated a few times. Marc had even offered him a key, so that he didn't keep trying out acrobatics through the bedroom window.

It seemed important to you to know Jake, to include him, somehow, in all of this. He knew you were right. He was certain you even had feelings for Jake, or at least a pretty intense attraction. Damn him.

So Marc was trying. For you. And in a way, for himself. And he knew he should try for Jake too.

With a tired sigh, he climbed out of bed to visit the restroom, but noticed the door was closed. Deciding to give you a moment to do your own thing, he went to the kitchen to start some coffee. Remembering that Steven had class around an hour after your shift started, he also put on the kettle.

Several minutes passed with Marc completing everyday morning tasks, finishing the coffee and steeping some green tea, which he would choke down on Steven's behalf if needed. (it supposedly helped him concentrate?) On occasion, if Steven was dreadfully tired, Marc would be left to attend class, take furious notes and pretend to be interested in all of Steven's courses.

Realizing he still hadn't seen you, Marc made his way back to the bathroom and wrapped his knuckles on the door.

"Hey...I made you some coffee."

No answer.

Knocking again, he added, "You okay, sweetheart?"

Respecting that everyone needed some privacy sometimes, he gave you another minute or two. But he wasn't able to hear the shower or sink, nor could he decipher any sounds of you moving around, getting ready for your day. And this morning routine wasn't like you at all.

After another quick knock, he twisted the door knob; then realized the door wasn't locked. Calling your name, he pushed against the door...but it wouldn't open.

Panic zipped through his body as he shoved the door open, meeting resistance. His firm shove sent you tumbling over on the other side.

You had been dead asleep against the door, and now you were a tangle of Marc's hoodie, the bathroom rug and his frantic arms, which were all over you.

"Baby? Baby, what's the matter? What happened?"

"Marc?" You croaked. You felt awful. "Ow."

"Honey, are you hurt? Talk to me." His hands checked you over carefully, his eyes wild and worried.

"I'm...I fell asleep." You reached up to rub the crick in your neck, blinking your puffy, burning eyes.

Helping you ease into a sitting position, Marc grasped your shoulders, joining you on the floor.

"You slept in the bathroom? Why, baby - are you sick?"

Marc absolutely worshipped the ground you walked on, but even he had to admit - you looked terrible. Your hair was a mess, your eyes were dull and swollen, with dark circles beneath them. You neck was covered in a layer of sweat because you had apparently slept fully dressed, when you were used to sleeping in only his t-shirt.

Leaning your forehead against his chest, you sank into his arms, feeling a few new tears forming. You were so fucking relieved to see him.

Pulling you close, Marc rocked you gently, his heart thundering and his gut twisting with worry.

"It's okay...it's okay, honey," his voice trembled with concern. He couldn't recall the last time he'd seen you like this. You were the steady one. He was the drama queen (according to Steven).

After shedding a few tears, you were desperate to get up off the floor, drink a gallon of water, 2 gallons of coffee and take like 17 painkillers.

"I'm not sick," you mumbled into his t-shirty chest. Finally sitting all the way up, you rubbed your eyes sleepily. "Just had a rough night."

Marc nodded, giving you a moment to explain. Meanwhile his brain was firing off a long list of terrible possibilities about how you ended up here. He was the one who had spent a ridiculous amount of time on the bathroom floor after spending the previous night in a bottle.

Surely you hadn't been drinking...

"Oh god - what time is it?" You climbed off the floor, shoving your hands inside your pockets to find your phone - which was still on the bedside table.

"Not sure," Marc said carefully, standing up to join you. "Your alarm went off about ten or fifteen minutes ago.”

"Shit, I'm gonna be late," you huffed, yanking off your layers of clothes, halfway tripping on them as you reached to turn on the shower.

"Hey...hey," Marc grasped your elbow, the way Jake was prone to do, bringing you to a standstill. Despite losing his mind with worry, he caressed your cheek tenderly. "What can I do? What do you need?"

You started to cry again, unable to believe your tears hadn't dried up yet.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Quickly releasing you, he gave you some space, fearing he was only upsetting you more.

"Could you make me a turkey sandwich?" You sniffled, wiping your nose with your sleeve. "And a really big travel mug of coffee?"

"Of course," he nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "Need your scrubs out of the laundry basket?"

Your bottom lip trembled as you nodded right back.

Several minutes later, after the all-time quickest shower and morning routine, you found Marc in the kitchen.

"Ah, you smell much better," he teased, hoping a lame joke would maybe cheer you up just a tiny bit. When you paused, he figured he'd fucked up. Typical. He held up your lunch bag as a peace offering.

But you ignored it, sliding your arms around his body and burying your face in his chest. Setting the lunch bag back down carefully, he wrapped his arms around you and buried his nose in your hair. Pressing a soft kiss to your temple. he rubbed your back soothingly.

"Thank you," you murmured after a few quiet moments, peering up into his eyes. "You have no idea how much I needed you this morning. I love you so much."

He melted, grateful for the small measure of comfort he was able to give. And thankful that he was the one able to share it. "I love you too."

Reaching up with one hand, he traced the fullness of your bottom lip with his thumb. "You're sure you're feeling okay, sweetheart?"

Nodding, you leaned into his touch as he brushed his fingers over your cheek. "I'm just tired. I was up most of the night."

His jaw twitched, dark eyes flashing possessively. "With Jake?"

Your gaze dropped. You really didn't want to talk about it, especially since you were running late.

"You're upset, though, so...I'm thinking maybe...it didn't go well?" Desperately trying to piece together anything about last night, Marc assumed the two of you had not come to any kind of agreement - relational or physical. If you had, he figured you would be in a much better disposition. He felt sick over what could have upset you so badly.

He knew better than to ask if Jake hurt you, after you had made it abundantly clear that no part of the system would ever harm you in any way. Still...

"Did he...hurt you? Your feelings, I mean," Marc quickly clarified. "He-he made you feel like this?"

Shaking your head, you pulled away, reaching for your lunch and giant tumbler of coffee. "No," you finally answered, scooping up your bag. "I did."

It became abundantly clear when Steven got out of class because he blew up your phone with messages, a few of which included...

'Heard you had a rough go of it last night. Seems like someone was a right twit. (maybe it was the stupid pigeon) So sorry, love. Hope your day is aces.'

A half-hour later...

'Hate to bug you - just wanted to say how much I love you.'

And another.

'Don't worry about a thing tonight. Already placed an order for your favorite takeaway. It's important to rest, so I'll read to you if you like.'

And that's just what you did. Dinner was warm and ready as soon as you walked in the door and only an hour later, your head was in Steven's lap as he read French poetry to you.

"How could I be so lucky?" You whispered, drifting off to sleep.

The following morning, you were well-rested and much more yourself. Steven's pampering and loving attention definitely helped improve things as well. And you felt anxious and excited for him to do a repeat of that French poetry reading so you could do scandalous things right back to him.

Briefly wondering if your fiancé got enough rest or if Jake was out all night again, you decided that, on this particular day, you didn't give a damn.

(You actually did.)

Marc was expecting you to fill him in a little more on what had taken place to upset you so on bathroom-floor-night. But you didn't really say much at all, and that's how he knew it was bad.

Still, he couldn't complain when you pulled one of his classic moves and decided to use his body for a little stress relief.

He was innocently making your lunch, again, hoping it would cheer you up or at least make your day go smoothly. But halfway through slicing a tomato, you walked up to the counter, boldly took the knife out of his hand and pressed your mouth to his.

He was kind of oddly excited that you were kissing him while holding a sharp knife, but you quickly set it down.

"Good morning," he grinned, forgetting your lunch and wrapping you up for what he assumed was a delicious morning greeting.

It was more than that. Your hands pushed his t-shirt up his abdomen before yanking everything else down. Your hands flew all over him, caressing, stroking, tugging and making him lose his damn mind in the middle of the kitchen.

"Come on," you ordered, dragging him by the arm. He assumed you were headed to bed, but you didn't make it past the first oversized chair in the living room before you were on him. And you were not gentle.

"Need you," you gasped, even as your bodies were already joined.

He was so ready to give you anything you wanted - anything in the world to comfort you, to love you, or just worship your body. After all, being Marc, he felt responsible. For damn near everything.

For his past, for his drinking. For everything that had ever gone wrong in his childhood home. For Randall. For icing Steven out for years. For anything Jake said or did unbeknownst to him. For all the blood on his hands.

Hell, it was probably his fault that the Cubs couldn't win the World Series for a damn century. If there was blame to be assigned, Marc always assumed his name was at the top of the list.

So whatever he could do for you, he would try his damndest.

The two of you finished on the chair and moved to the shower because you had to get ready for work and also because you weren't done with him - not that he was complaining.

But as soon as you left for work, he found the nearest mirror and glared at his reflection.

"All right, assholes," he growled, leaning in as if he could magically summon his alters. "Let's fucking go. My fiancé(e) is devastated and we're going to fix it. Right fucking now."

After a minute of staring, he huffed and rolled his eyes. He knew perfectly well that this wasn't how it worked - he couldn't stare into a mirror and summon Jake like Bloody Mary or Candyman.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to remember any advice from his meetings or therapy sessions. Or from you. His patience didn't last long enough to be reasonable however, so he banged his fist on the mirror in annoyance, but not hard enough to break it.

"Steven? Jake? Come on," he huffed.

'Don't look at me, mate,' he heard Steven say. 'Got no clue. But I bet the stupid old bird's to blame.'

Fine then.

Squaring his shoulders, Marc felt ready to do fucking battle if he had to. Because, even though he didn't realize it, you were right. He was your hero. Drawing a deep breath, he called out,

"KHONSHU!"

@stormydaysxx @laaundromat @kindlover @flyestvenustrap @spxctorsslxt @deezisnotreal @stevenknightmarc @imonmykneessir @marvelouslovely-barnes @evilbubu @usualsworld @rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra @this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face @cicithemess2000

Dividers by saradika

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[asocialangel]

Hello !! I saw that your requests were open so I wanted to know how you think the bllk would react if their s/o asked for a break or a break up with them ?? Actually i read your work on it and it was very well written (hurts my heart ಠ⁠‿⁠ಠ) so I was curious about that.

Anyway have a good day~~

“let’s break up” - how the bllk boys would react

Hello lovely ! Are you doing great ? Was my response quick enough ? Anyways, i wrote short fics instead of headcanons, i feel like they are more suited. But if you wish, I can write them in hc forms ! Specific characters can also be requested for a part two~  enjoy and don’t cry too much~~

Blue Lock angst: breaking up with Isagi Yoichi and Itoshi Rin

Isagi - swear words, toxic behaviors from both ends, no one is right\an example to follow tbh TT - 1,2k

It had been a while. That Isagi was ignoring you. Your hugs, your texts, the cooked meals you always put aside for him. You lifted your head and looked in front of you. It was so dark now it hurt your eyes. The afternoon had gone by in a blink of an eye. You had sat on the couch and next thing you know you’re on the floor, back against the living room rug, still crying. Everytime you dried up your tears, a few minutes of thinking were enough for them to start rolling down your cheeks again. Purposeful or not, did it even matter ? And you had rehashed thoughts and fake conversations so much by now, that you started convincing yourself he avoided you deliberately, to have fun and make you cry. 

The dim sky barely lit up the room, it was hard for you to distinguish the furniture around you. Everything was a grayish blue. Inside and outside. You and your surroundings. When you heard keys in the lock, you took a deep breath, eyes closed. The door creaked open. 

“Hey ba-” The voice that started talking with so much enthusiasm abruptly stopped. “Why’s it so dark ?” Without even warning, Isagi turned the switch on. Ow. It hurts your eyes so much. Yet you continue blankly staring at the coffee table. “Practice was so tough today. Hum, Y\N where are you ?”. You could feel him searching left and right for you. So used to it huh, you greeting him the second he arrives, a warm smile on your face, the table set behind you. There was a last time for everything, but none of you knew that yesterday was the one. “Oh well.” Quickly giving up, you heard his duffle bag hit the floor. He left everything as it was, heading for a shower. 

“I’m here.” Your expression still being as empty, not even looking in his direction, you got up. Your hand helping you lift your weight, you finally revealed yourself to him. From your peripheral vision, you could see his smile getting wider as he saw you. Not that you cared. You didn’t even bother to look at him when you pronounced that dreadful sentence: “We need to talk”.

“Do we ?” Isagi’s smile instantly dropped. But it made you furious. Instead of an apprehensive, concerned expression, he seemed annoyed. That bitch is gonna complain again right ? That’s probably what he was thinking. Couldn't he at least fake being scared for your relationship ? “Well i must. I’ll tell you something. Although I'm surprised you have nothing to tell me. Nothing’s been bothering you ? Everything alright, a-ok ? La vie en rose ?” You still didn't look at him, though you were walking in his direction, your eyes were empty. “What, does something seem wrong to you ? To me nothing h-” Ugh ! He was so ! Infuriating ! Why was he acting all cool, all unbothered, disdainful ? “Something ?! Something ?! Everything !”

You finally looked at him. Right in the eyes. You hadn't realized that anger had taken over your sadness. “How can you dare to pretend things are going right ? Have some respect, for me, and yourself !” “Okay okay, what will you whine about today ?” Isagi answered right away. “My fangirls ? How you wanna meet my friends ? The fact you’re convinced my parents dislike you ? Everything we’ve been through again and again.” He had an arrogant tone, almost laughing at you. “You always have something to bring up. I’m getting tired of your childish complaints”. 

Right where it hits the most. You scoffed. “Okay. Okay then. You’ll be so glad to hear what I've got to say”. You too started putting on a derisive expression. “At first I was sad. But now I'm thinking, how could you let yourself be treated this way, love ?” You were walking around the living room, in a theatrical way, gesturing to yourself and raising your eyebrows faking concern. “Isagi. You looked at him. I’m not gonna let you neglect me again, let alone pretend I'm the one who’s wrong. You and I… We’re over”. You looked at him almost satisfied. You-from-4-hours-ago would've never believed that, out of all the feelings you could have felt when asking to break up, amusement would have been the one.

And what you saw was even more delightful. Isagi’s expression turned from scoffy to utterly shocked. He did not see that coming. After all, to him, you had become someone who would just complain… Not actually take action. Little did he know everything he took for granted was going to disappear. As quickly as you would. Suddenly his whole world fell upon his feet.

You smiled, walking closer and closer to him. His sad expression.. It was almost fulfilling now. So taken aback, Isagi couldn't move, he only looked you in the eyes, full of despair. His eyebrows were wavering, his eyes were starting to get glossy from tears welling up, he tried to blink. You approached your face dangerously close to his. Your noses were almost touching, but you didn't budge though. You looked at him deep in the eyes, feeding on his pain. “Can you finally feel what I felt ?” Your tone was full of resolution. You stayed for a few seconds, just to pressure him, until you stepped back. You took each of his arms, and looked at his face again. “It’s okay. You’re a resilient boy, you’ll get through this”. You put on a fake pout, mocking compassion. “It’s not like I mattered much to you anyway, right ?”. 

You violently let go of him, shaking his arms with strength, your smile fading away. “Now go”. You walked right past him, took your keys, your bag and left. It was his apartment, and you still had some stuff left. After all, it’s not like you had planned to break him up today, he just brought it upon himself. The way you moved made it look like you were unaffected. You swiftly opened the door and exited. You walked with resoluteness, steady walking, chin up through the hallways, up until the elevator. 

On his side, it took Isagi a few seconds to register what had just happened. He was still standing there, blankly when you left, not even trying to get you back. So confused. Until it hit him. It hit him so hard. Tears started rolling down his cheeks uncontrollably as he fell to the ground. What had he done ? How did he allow himself to lose you ? The corny saying that you ‘only notice something when it’s gone’ finally had meaning. As he played in his head every little thing he was already missing from you, a crushing feeling of remorse dawned upon him. Finally, he realized everything he’d done wrong while going out with you, and to add to the burden he now bore, he finally saw that that’s what you had been complaining to him about. Everything you had said, you were right. 

Knees to the ground and hands shakily wiping off his tears, Isagi thought he’d never see the end of it. He wanted you back. Maybe if he called you, apologized, no, maybe if he, ugh it was in vain. He just wanted to tell you he’s sorry. But was he ? Maybe the two of you were not meant to be. He looked at his hands and got up, wiped his tears. Actually… you were wrong. He did everything right. But you were an ungrateful lucky lover. 

Obviously, it’d end up like this. You broke down crying in the elevator. How foolish were you, to think he’d be affected. Like it always happens, you were the one hurt, and he didn't question himself. If just once it could’ve been reversed. 

Rin - 1k2 words

Even though the lights were bright and the crowd was loud, it's like you weren't there. Everyone around you was keenly embroiled, but you could barely distinguish the players on the field. You had come to watch your boyfriend play, just like you’d watched every other game of his from this season. But this time, you couldn't force yourself to get into it. Your vision was blurry, you know, when you can't focus your eyes on something ? You see it happen from afar, you’d like to catch every detail of it, but your eyes just won’t let you. It happens when you’re tired, or when you don’t put in enough effort. You could not concentrate, too busy thinking.

You were sitting in the vip spot, all alone, unfilled seats surrounding you, an empty, almost sad, look on your face. You knew what would come after the match. And as boring as the game felt to you today -even though it wasn’t- you didn't want it to end. Because it finishing meant you also had to finish something. Something you had to say to Rin. He scores, smiles faintly and glances at your direction. 

But you weren’t looking at him anymore. When you watch him these days… You don’t feel anything anymore. If you could force yourself to do so, you would have already done it a while ago. Every candle you blow is accompanied by the same wish, to restore the feelings you once had for him. It would feel so much easier if you could continue on pretending. What’s wrong with you ? He’s the dream guy…

You stared into space, and suddenly your ears rang louder than before. You looked up to see that the match had ended. You take a deep breath, faintly smile as you know your boyfriend is looking at you, and get up. Time to face reality. As you make your way to the backstage to meet him, you start thinking. You still have that surreal, high on over-stimulation feel, but your thoughts start clearing up: this might be the worst time to do what you’re about to do. He had just won a match, almost single-handedly carrying his team, and his season was far from over. It would most likely break his spirit. But you just felt like being selfish… Once again. Feigning this much, you can't do it longer. There was nothing left anymore that made you want to stay, apart from the objectivity that Rin himself, is what anyone would wish for. Even that was obvious to you, but it wasn’t enough anymore. Nowadays looking at him is like looking at a dessert when you’re not hungry. You don’t even want it, it wouldn’t satisfy you. 

You feel the coldness of the metal stair rail you’re trailing your fingers on. It brings you to where you ought to go. “Y\N”. His voice is just as cold. You used to dig that, though. “I did good, didn’t I?” “You sure did”, you answer, looking at the floor. “Look Rin, there’s something I wanna tell you. I’m sorry for being brutal. I want us to break up”. 

The whole room paused. Oh yes, because at this point, I might as well do it in a room full of people. They were bound to find out anyway. Rin’s feeble smile totally faded. His mouth was even slightly opened from shock. “Le-let’s take this elsewhere”. Rin had put a serious face on and sharply grabbed your wrist, dragging you rather inconsiderately in the staircase. No one came here ever. The sound resonated so well, it was almost scary. If someone were to pass by, they would hear everything. “Why so sudden ?”

You were so ashamed. You frenziedly shook your hand off his grip, still looking at the floor. “I don't know. It’s been on my mind a while. It just took me some time to muster the courage”. Lies. “That’s odd. It’s selfish, but I wish you’d never told me”. Rin took his hand to your chin, raising your head up so you’d look him in the eyes. You tried to escape, and look left or right, but you felt emeralds piercing right through your eyes. You looked straight up. You were most definitely going to miss this perfect face. His cold hands and towering stature. “Tell me the truth now”. He commended and you obeyed, as always:

“I dont love you anymore”. You glossy lips rested pouty. It was almost criminal, saying this while staring at him dead in the eyes. He roughly let you go with a ‘tch’, making you lose your balance. “That’s it huh ?” His back was turned but you could feel the disappointment in his voice. Not sad, just let down by your lack of effort. He was right though, if you were to end it, you could’ve done it nicely. You didn't know what to do as he wasn't speaking anymore. “Are you okay with that ?” What stupid thing to say. You looked at him, waiting for an answer. “Okay. Let’s break up”. Rin finally turned to you. You felt your heart fall to your chest, so heavy. Why now ? You’d rehearsed this conversation over and over, you knew well you didn't have feelings for him anymore. So why is it hurting ? Why now ? Rin walked to what you thought was closer to you, but shifted before. He was going for the door. “Tomorrow, come pick up your stuff at my place. If you can’t, please text my maid, she’ll get it sent to your address”. You started feeling tears welling up and your throat itching. “Is that all ?” You got walking too, to reach Rin. 

Pushing Rin’s chest with both your hands, you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier. But he barely budged. Your voice cracked: “Come on, react ! I don't know, throw a fit, cry, disrespect me, act like you care ! Grab my shoulders and shake me, shove me to the wall !” You were totally breaking down. Tears were now rolling down your flushed cheeks, your hands were shaking, rested on his chest. 

“Is that wrong for me, to love you so much I'll accept everything you do to me ?”. You looked up, surprised to hear him answer. “If you want to break up, I'll accept, because I'd do anything and everything for you. I love you like that ! I’m so hurt but I'm trying to keep it cool so you don’t regret your decision. If you came to realize how terrible you’re treating me right now, you would feel bad. Let me pretend I'm the bad guy so you walk away with a clean conscience.” His words sunk into you. “What, did you, on top of treating me like this, expect me to plead with you to stay, to change your mind ? I’m all yours, but I'm no beggar.”

Rin finally pushed you off him, looking down on you. “It’s over, goodbye”. The sound of his voice and the door shutting closed resonated in the staircase. It felt so alone. You stood there shaking from the cold and crying. It might be better like this.

A\N: ngl, these are borderline corny, ooc, and took me way too long to write TT. Next time i'll write HC maybe. Advices anyone ?! not rly proud of these.

[witchoftheewilds]

Dead Flowers

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Words: 2k+

Warnings: mentions of sex, nudity, death, and angst. Lord this shit is pure angst. Joel may or may not be a little OOC here. I'm just going off what the series Joel makes me feel not game Joel.  

a/n: So, I wasn’t sure if I was going to post this. It's been almost four months since I've written anything and suddenly, I had a moment of writing this in an hour. It probably shows from the errors I didn't see, but I will die on that hill. I started replaying TLOU the other night and realized the small differences between Troy Baker’s Joel and Pedro’s. Nothing crazy, but Pedro’s Joel just seems a bit more…rugged? Brutal? And I kinda like love it a lot. @deadneverlander thank you for always being the bestie I've needed and supporting me when I can't support myself. You are amazing. Comments are always welcome. Hope someone out there enjoys this. Much love, Jenn.

____________________

It’s been six days since the so-called incident. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” 

Spittallike venom coated the corner of his mouth. His eyes wildly took in your face waiting for you to break. He wanted you to tell him he was right and you were wrong, but he wasn’t the only one who was stubborn. 

“I’m not going to apologize for trying to save somebody.”

And there it was. 

His eyes glistened with a wrath that could’ve made the entirety of hell repent. Somehow, you’d found what little strength you had left to not budge under his gaze; refusing to waiver and take back something that was already done.

What would’ve been the point in trying to change the past when there was no Time Machine to do it? When you knew - deep down - you’d be making the same mistake over and over in his eyes. 

He called you sloppy. Reckless. Irrational. Irrational because you cared. Giving a fuck about anything outside of your own survival will get yourself killed.

“You’re going to get yourself - one of the team - killed all because you let your feelings get in the way.” 

It wasn’t about the team. The team was an excuse. The team was a bunch of sad sacks of shits who found a use for one another in order to survive. No, what Joel meant but wouldn’t say had nothing to do with the team. Just you.

You were the unexpected kink in his armor he never saw coming. 

You wanted to snap at him every time Joel spoke in your direction. Your own venom packed response building at the back of your throat like bile - rising up to scream questions of why the fuck did he still keep you around knowing you’d never get an answer. 

You wanted to believe it was because of the sex. Deep down you knew something worse than spores had begun to fester between you both. Something neither one of you dared bring up in case it caused you to go down in flames. Truth was, if Joel didn’t feel the same way, you knew his rejection would kill you faster than Mother Nature’s fucked up creation ever could. So, you kept silent and harbored a growth of your own. One that was slowly beginning to kill you. 

When you’d gotten back inside the safety of the compound’s walls you’d planned on heading straight to your apartment. You needed a shower. You needed to get the grim of death scrubbed free from your body. You’d made it all of ten feet when you felt a large hand grab you from behind. Your instincts roared for you to find the upper hand as adrenaline flooded your system. Your body is already tensing up for the upcoming impact of the wall just before your back makes contact. 

With your teeth bared and muscles taut you were ready to fight. Your shoulder blades touched down on the brick first. A small rush of air huffed through your nose as your back took the rest of the impact. 

“Motherfucker-“ you snapped, your arms wiggling to loosen his grip on your arms enough to get some leverage. 

When your eyes adjusted on your attacker's face you weren’t surprised to find Joel there. And just like that every defense came crashing down. You could already feel yourself soften as your name passed over his lips. 

“What?”

“What in the hell is wrong with you, huh? Why would you do that? You know better.” 

Joel was right, of course. You did know better. Everyone did. You just hadn’t been able to let that little piece of hope inside you die all the way just yet. It was something Joel hated. It was something he knew would get you killed. 

While Joel waited for an answer you allowed yourself to take in the contours of his face. The hard lines of his brow as he concentrated on you - waiting for a response. He was trying for anger but you saw in his eyes now the same thing you’d seen as you broke cover and ran towards the girl. Fear. 

It’d been a flash. If you’d blinked you would’ve missed it, but you’d seen it. Heard it in the way he called after you as your legs sprinted forward and bounding over leftover debris from the bombing. Felt it in the desperation that spread through his words as he shouted, “Get back here!” 

But you couldn’t. All you could see was a small child - a little girl - lost and alone. Crying for some fool to save her. You’d been just the fool she’d been crying for. 

A rough hand encased your cheek bringing you back to the present. Away from the fresh memory that was digging itself a home inside your brain to join all the rest of the tragedy it harbored there. What was one more? 

“What do you want from me, Joel? An apology?”

“No, I don’t want a goddamn apology. I want you to make it make sense why you would do that. You know she was as good as dead already.” 

Joel liked to think he was more methodical than you but in reality, Joel had a tendency to be as equally impulsive as you. He just wanted to pretend his moral code died the same day his daughter did. He wanted to believe he'd encased himself so deep in stone he was untouchable. 

Joel’s reputation of being ruthless preceded him. You’d seen it in action the first smuggling job you’d taken with him. A small group of four of you ended with only two of you making it back. His clothes were covered in specks of gore and dirt and the earth shattering spark of hell that ignited in the dark obsidian of his eyes. It was noticeable in the cautious way he carried himself - even more noticeable in the wary movements everyone subconsciously took when they approached him. The tension in their shoulders rose up until their jaws were baring down so tight you could hear their teeth crack. 

It’s how it had gone with every job you’d taken in the beginning. Everyone was so wary of him - you must have missed the danger sign completely. It wasn’t until the fifth job you’d worked together that he’d started to trust you. 

Trust. What a delicate thing. 

“Do you trust me?” 

The words left before you could stop them. The anger that’d marked his forehead lightened as worry took its place. 

“Why you askin’ something like that?” 

“It’s a simple question, Joel. Do. You. Trust. Me. Yes or no.” 

You couldn’t explain why your mind raced back to the first time he’d claimed you. A part of you wanted that right now. To shut you up with a seal of his lips on yours. 

Shut me up. Shut me up before I regret this.

It had started raining. The storm coming in quicker than either of you’d anticipated. Your shoulders were sore and beginning to bruise from the weight of the cargo inside your pack. You’d told Joel it wouldn’t be a problem and that you could make it back to the QZ without any issues. So, when he’d called to find shelter until the worst of the storm had passed the relief had been instant. 

“We’ll hunker down here for the night. Hopefully, by the time the sun rises we’ll be back on the road.” 

“Sounds good. I’m going to change into warmer clothes.” 

There was no missing the slow smirk that rose on his lips. His body folded to sit on what piece of the couch didn’t have springs and holes jetting out between mildewed fabric. 

“Something funny?”

“Not at all. You’d do a lot better to pack more ammo for your pistol than extra clothes.”

“Clothes are a necessity,” you chimed in response. 

You dared a glance over your shoulder at his large frame. His body finally reclining back, an arm lazily slung over, as he confined to watch you search through your bag. What were you even trying to find again? Oh, right. Clothes. 

Joel was distracting in that rugged handsomeness sort of way. A way you wish you could pretend you’d never started to notice. It was becoming a distraction and one you promised yourself once you finished this job you wouldn’t worry about anymore. No more jobs equaled no more being finely attuned to the presence of an emotionally unavailable man. 

“Ammo is a necessity, sweetheart. The importance of clothes isn’t that high on my list of what’s gonna keep me alive.” 

His drawl thickened around the last and you fought not to shiver. Sweetheart was new and the tenderness of it wasn’t lost on you. Sweetheart was going to get you killed. 

“I’ll remember that the next time I catch hypothermia from fighting runners in the nude.” 

His deep laugh warmed your skin leaving a heated flush across your skin. You tried your best to distract yourself from him. Get the clothes. Go to the bathroom. You felt rooted to the spot. Your eyes took in a rare smile that crinkled his eyes in a way that softened him and turned him human. 

“Wouldn’t that be a sight.” 

“The spare clothes stay,” you replied, your arm tucking your said spare clothes against your chest. “I’ve got you to hold the ammo.”

You could’ve sworn as you turned towards the bathroom, you’d heard him mutter, “That you do, sweetheart,” but you chalked it up to your mind playing tricks on you. Joel wasn’t like that. He wasn’t ruled by emotion and, as much as you fought to say neither were you, you knew you were. 

Joel was a perfect example that your emotions couldn’t be trusted. Maybe that was the excuse you used for the reason you’d left the bathroom door cracked just enough for Joel to have a perfect view as you undressed. You’d blame it on the door being too rotted to move or being delirious from the cold. 

You could feel his eyes on you as you stripped with your eyes trained on your reflection inside the mirror. The moss that grew through the cracks distorting your image and betraying the facade of your calm expression with wide eyes. It wasn’t until after you’d taken the last leg out of your jeans that you felt him enter the room. 

Your eyes catching him inside the mirror. You weren’t exactly sure why you froze. Your next breath caged inside your legs with you unwilling to release it as you waited for his next move. It felt like minutes passed within that brief moment and somewhere within that time your initial uncertainty began to thaw. The mirror was trashed, but it was enough to catch the way his eyes hungrily drank in your body. 

You started to pivot on your feet to turn to face him when a calloused hand stopped you. The dampness of his shirt touched against the skin of your back eliciting a soft gasp to fill the room. The hand that held you steady moments before snaked around your front and dipped lower. You were pressed tightly against his chest now, and the bite of the cold that had been there seconds before was gone. Replaced now with the growing heat that stirred within your bones. 

It wasn’t until you felt the weathered skin of his lips against your ear that you realized you were leaning against him fully for support. 

“I can keep you warm. Would you like that, sweetheart?” 

A pleading sound rose up in your chest. A sharp nod all you could manage as you turned your head those few inches to meet the intensity of his gaze. Joel wanted to hear you say it. He wanted to hear the words of submission come from you, and you were all too eager to give them. 

“Yes.”

With one simple word you signed yourself over to him and Joel sealed his mouth over yours. The kiss was nothing sensual or romantic. It was an assault of lips and teeth. A thrashing of claiming as his arms wound around you, constricting you closer with a hand greedily filling up your breasts. Your nipples pinched deliciously between his thumb and index. 

Joel fucked you hard against the old porcelain sink until it broke. 

Looking at him now, you wondered if Joel realized yet that his eyes were full of pleading. You wondered if you told him what he was giving away f he’d release the hold he had on your face, his thumb lightly stroking at your bottom lip, as he searched your face for an answer you couldn’t give him. 

“Do. You. Trust-“ 

“What kind of fuckin question is that?” 

“A real one. An honest one.”

A few beats of your heart later and a sigh of recognition hefted itself off his shoulders. He thought this was a game. Maybe tell you what you need to hear and you would stop with this foolishness. 

“Yes, goddamn it. You know I do. What does it matter-“

“It matters to me. It matters to know that you’ll trust me to make a good decision.” 

“But you don’t make good decisions, sweetheart!” His face was overcome with a shade of red as he struggled to contain himself. Both hands on your face now as he begged you to silently stop where this was going. Where it was always going. “You think too much with your damn emotions and it’s going to get yourself killed!”

“Joel - are you scared to lose me?”

No faster than the words spilled from your lips did his entire body shut down. It would’ve been amazing to watch him compartmentalize himself away if it didn’t mean he was doing it towards you. 

“I know you are,” you whispered to him. “Let me hear you say it. I wanna hear you-“

Joel crashed his lips down onto yours hard enough your teeth clacked. His tongue ruthlessly demanded entrance to your mouth; stealing the very breath from your lungs. You tried to move closer to get a better hold of him, but found he was keeping you at arms reach. Just as fast as he’d started it, Joel pulled away from you. An apology written in his eyes as he turned and walked away leaving you alone inside the alleyway. 

You knew that Joel Miller was dangerous. You knew it in the wary way people moved around him and the way their jaws tightened until they cracked. You knew he was dangerous, and still, you decided to let him kill you long before the spores ever did. 

[star-girl-05]

Newly Discovered Desires

Cruise x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

You spent most of your time cooped up in this building. Drinking terrible coffee and eating take out. Even when you left work all you wanted to do was relax, a stressful job will do that. So your social life outside of work was completely non existing, and your romantic life only existed in the books you read. You were okay with that though because your books were plenty or at least you thought they were. 

After a rough day at work T.C. invited everyone out, offering to buy the first round. After the first round there was a second round and by the four your night started to blur. That was your first mistake. The mistake that led to the main mistake, the huge mistake. 

All you needed was your romance books, at least that's what you thought. Now at this moment you're beginning to doubt your previous belief. Cause the feeling of his hands running up your shirt, and his lips grazing your neck sent your senses into overdrive in a way words on a page never could. 

The alcohol in your system only amplifies your reaction to his touch. Never in a million years did you think you would let HIM of all people kiss you. He's a cocky ass, the only reason you tolerate him is because he's good at his job, but tolerating someone is a long way from letting them see you naked. Yet here you are moaning into his mouth. Unbuttoning his shirt and begging him to hurry up. 

That's the last thing you remember, the next day. As soon as you wake up a headache immediately greets you making you groan. The previous night was a blur but the things you did remember couldn’t possibly be true. There's absolutely no way you would kiss him let alone take him back to your apartment. That's what you believed until you opened your eyes and saw him lying next to you. The sight has you jumping out of bed. 

The sudden movement has him, Cruise lifting his head. He lazily flips over making eye-contact with you. He takes a moment to process what's happening and when he finally does he doesn’t seem horrified. In fact he seems the opposite, he's cocky, his signature smirk on his face. “Well isn’t this a sight to see” he eyes you up and down. You finally take a second to see what you're wearing and the sight has you cringing. You're dressed in his white button up and only his white button up.

You reach for the blanket only for Cruise to yank the blanket back. Of course even in a situation like this he's a jerk. “Jesus, how much did I have to drink to overlook your being a jerk?”

“Probably the same amount as me since I forgot just how bitchy you can be.” you openly gasp at him. Before staring at him with a glare that would send anyone running but Cruise just smiles at you before falling to your bed again.

“I’m going to shower and when I come out you're going to be gone and we will never mention this again to anyone” there was an underlying threat to your words one you made sure he picked up on.

“I need to shower too so why don’t we save water” 

“Cruise I’m being serious for all we know nothing happened so there's no need to bring it up again” Yeah maybe the two of you only kissed and you're wearing his shirt because you got hot in the middle of the night and his shirt was the closest thing to you. You were already forcing yourself to believe your unlikely narrative. 

“Yeah you're right I’m sure we just passed out and this condom in the trash is unrelated” Your heart stops your rounding the bed and checking in the trash can to find said condom. “Oh my mistake there's actually two condoms still it could be just a coincidence.” 

“Okay fine we slept together, still this changes nothing.” You were determined to sweep this under the rug. If anyone ever found out about this you would never hear the end of it. 

“Understood, I wouldn’t want anyone finding out about this incident either” You knew why you didn’t want anyone to find out about you and him but you didn’t think he wouldn’t want people to know. What's so bad about sleeping with you? STOP! You clear your mind, take a breath, you don’t care why he doesn’t want people to know. It's good for you that he wants to keep this secret too. Now you can take your shower and not worry that when you get to work everyone will be whispering. 

With one final look at Cruise you slip into the bathroom. You're finally able to take a survey of your appearance. Your hair is a mess and a trail of purple marks on your neck slips below the neckline of your, his shirt. You're slipping off the shirt in a hurry, allowing you to see the full extent of last night's activities. Your body is decorated with various purple marks, a mixture of bruises and hickeys.

He's quick to pull your shirt off, trailing kisses on the newly exposed skin. With every kiss you feel yourself get more and more lost in his touch. 

The memory has you shivering you just need to wash off last night. Put it behind you and never think of it again.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

“I need my shirt” you pick up the shirt cracking the bathroom door and slipping it through the bathroom door. You wait by the door waiting to hear the click of the front door. Once you hear it you finally get in the shower. 

~~~

Cruise said he wouldn't tell anyone and while you wanted to believe him you still found yourself hesitant to actually walk into work. If you didn’t hurry you would be late, gathering all your courage you finally pushed open the doors. 

You're thankful that you made it all the way to your area without anyone giving you knowing looks. It seems he was able to keep his mouth shut after all. 

The rest of your day went smoothly, an average normal day. After your morning/night you're more than thankful for your boring day. Now your going to go home and end your day with delicious food and a good movie. 

“Hey sweetheart, are you heading out?” Of course he has to ruin your night. 

“Since when do you call me sweetheart?” 

“It seems only fitting now that I know just how sweet you taste” a blush covers your face at his words. Cruise smiles at your reaction, taking pride in making you blush. 

“I thought we both agreed to not mention last night ever again”

“That was before I remembered all about last night” that wasn’t fair, you could only remember snippets from last night but if Cruise could remember all of it he has the upper hand. “Why don't you come back to my place and we can recreate last nights activities” 

“Cruise, i thought i made this crystal clear i want nothing to do with you” you words were harsh but you needed to make sure they cut through his thick skull. 

“Okay fine I’ll just return your underwear tomorrow then” it took you a moment to process his words but when you did your gasping. He stole your underwear, what a pervert.

“You stole my underwear?”

“Of course not I borrowed them, as insurance”

“….” You pause for a moment trying to process his words. As insurance, what sane person steals someone's underwear as insurance. Just as you're about to tell him to bring them tomorrow you freeze for a moment. If the last five seconds of this conversation is anything to go by, Cruise is insane. You could already picture him strolling into work and dropping the item in your lap for everyone to see. Even thinking about it was making you embarrassed. No you would have to get them yourself which unfortunately meant going to his place. 

~~

Cruise had been talking non-stop as soon as you sat down. Making the drive to his place excruciatingly long. You were already pouting at the thought of having to do it again. Cruise refused to give you his address so you were forced to ride in his car. Finally you arrive at his place, it's nicer than you thought it was going to be. “Go get them” you don’t plan on spending a second longer here than you have to. 

“Why don’t you have a drink first?” 

“I don’t plan on drinking ever again” he chuckles a little, mumbling something along the lines of ‘oh well I tried’. He heads to the back part of the apartment opening what you're assuming is his bedroom. You wait as patiently as you can for him to reemerge. He comes from the bedroom, your underwear hanging off his pointer finger. As soon as he’s close your reaching for them only for him to yank them away from you. You should have known it wasn’t going to be easy. You reach for them once more, even if it is futile. His 6’0 ass is holding them way above his head. Before you resort to kicking him in his groin you decide to try and sneak attack him. You pretend to give up walking away from him. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, he’s still holding them way above his head. He barely has time to register you running full speed at him, jumping into his arms. Both of you go crashing into the fall, at the last second Cruise is able to steady the two of you. “Are you trying to kill me?” His words are breathless as he tries to catch his breath. You're not focusing on him, however your attention on the underwear balled in his hand that now rests on your hip. You're pulling them from his grasp before he even knows what's happening. 

“I win” you say cheerfully, tucking your newly found clothing item in your pocket. Cruise is too focused on your smile to be mad about you winning. 

“Did you? I’m the one that has you in my arms” his fingers dig into your hips reminding you of the bruises that already rest there.

“That's enough of that, just put me down so you can drop me back off” You try to wiggle out of his grasp but his grip only tightens. You're prepared to tell him off for not putting you down. The words die on your tongue as soon as you lock eyes with him. ‘He has no business looking at me like that’ you think to yourself. 

“Can’t I have a kiss, you did almost kill me” You didn’t feel bad, he deserved it for holding your underwear hostage, so why are you leaning in. 

The kiss turns heated instantly, your hands tangling themselves in his soft hair. While his fingers continue to dig into the flesh of your hips. He pulls away, placing kisses over neck. In between each kiss you hear him mumble ‘Can’t believe that worked’ 

You can’t believe you fell for that cheesy line either. Yet here you are in Cruises arms once again. Turns out his mouth is useful for more than snarky remarks. Your curious what other things he’s been keeping secret…

[porchlightfairy]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕖𝕨 𝔽𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕

summary: Eddie gets jealous of your new friend from college.

New Life Fresh Start masterlist

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

Midterms were taking a toll on you. You were spending more and more time studying at school and less and less time at home. The only time you were home was when you needed to change clothes and shower or eat something.

You’ve barely had time to spend with Eddie, only able to call him late at night saying you were at the library and would be sleeping at a friend’s on campus or something. Eddie felt bad like he couldn’t do anything to help you. Just watch as you zoom through the apartment barely giving a kiss goodbye before going back to school.

“I don’t know what I should do. I want to support her but she’s barely home enough.” Eddie says as he shuffles through the records in the store.

“She’s busy, man. College midterms are tough. You just need to be patient.” Joey claims, “Once they’re over I am sure she will be back in your arms in no time.”

“I sure hope so,” Eddie mutters still unsatisfied with the answer Joey gave.

After work, as Eddie is walking home he sees you outside of a coffee shop. He was about to approach you excitedly when he stopped. A man steps out in front of you with two coffees and then hands one to you. Who was that guy? And why did you smile like that when he gave you the cup? That smile Eddie knew all too well. His heart started to sink. He turns in another direction and decides to take a long way home.

Back at home, Eddie stays up waiting, hoping, you come home tonight. And as if god was listening to his prayers, you arrive a short while later. “Hey, Eddie baby.” You smile and drop all of your stuff at the door before jumping onto the couch and snuggling up to him. “I missed you.” You kiss his cheek.

He smiles “I missed you too. How was your day?”

“It was okay,” You mumble, “But, it’s better now that I am home with you.”

Eddie smiles then grabs your chin, kissing you, “You know, I saw you today.”

“You did? Why didn’t you come say hi?” You pout.

“Oh, I saw you with somebody. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You must have seen me with Dave, he’s my study friend.”

Study friend. Study friend? Study Friend?! Was this the same person you were spending the night with? Some guy? Not just some guy, a guy with sophisticated clothes, a clean haircut, and intellect. How could you not want to spend more time with Dave instead of Eddie.

He purses his lips, “I’m glad you’re making friends at school.”

“Yeah, he’s been a really big help with exams and stuff. I think you would like him if you met.” Probably not.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

Eddie couldn’t help but get paranoid about you and your new friend Dave. How long would it be before you realize how much butter Dave was and dump Eddie? He sits on the rug in the living room, his head swimming with thoughts. You were off to school that day and he was all by himself riddled with anxiety.

Just then there’s a knock on the door, and he swings the door open to see Asya again. “My momma made cookies, want some?” She holds up a plate.

Eddie takes the plate, “Thanks kiddo.”

“You look worried.” She points out before skipping into the apartment.

Eddie takes a bite of a cookie, “Pretty lady has a new friend. A guy friend.”

“Okay? What’s the issue?” She cocks an eyebrow.

“He’s smart and sophisticated.” Eddie sighs, “He goes to school with her and takes her to coffee. Helps her with her homework and is all around better than me.”

“Sounds like it.” She mutters, “But she still comes home to you doesn’t she? Isn’t that what matters?”

“I guess you're right.” Eddie sighs, but one day maybe she won’t.

“Although I love to stay and make you feel better I’m gonna go back home. See ya.” She gets up and takes the plate before leaving.

Eddie chuckles, “See you around kid.”

You return home a few hours later and leap into Eddie’s arms, “I’m free!” You shout before peppering his face in kisses, “Midterms are over and we can spend more time together!”

Eddie smiles in relief, “No more late-night study groups?”

“No more late studying. I’m all yours.” You kiss him again. He smiles into the kiss and lifts you off your feet and takes you to the bedroom.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

The next morning, Eddie wakes up to the sight of you fast asleep next to him. He smiles at the sight and caresses your face. You begin to stir before pulling closer into him, “What time is it?” You mumble.

He checks the clock, “Just half past eight.”

“Oh shit,” You get up, “I told Dave, I would grab a coffee with him at ten.” You quickly stumble out of bed to get ready, Eddie’s heart sinks. He thought he had heard the last of Dave.

“Can’t you ditch? Stay in bed with me?”

“No, Eddie,” you laugh, “Dave got me through exams. I owe him big time.”

“Big time? What about me?”

“Would you like to come?” Not really, is what Eddie wanted to say but instead, he responds; “Yes”

“Perfect! I can’t wait for you to meet Dave. You’re going to like him.” You scurry to the bathroom to get ready.

Eddie grimaces when you are out of sight. While you were in the bathroom, he gets ready. Once you’re both finished you head to the local coffee shop. You hook your arm around Eddie’s as you sit and wait for Dave.

You look over to see Eddie’s deflated expression. “Hey, what’s the matter?” You nudge him.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” He waves it off.

“No, but you look upset.” You tug at him, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I promise… I just—” Before Eddie could truly answer Dave arrived at your table.

“Sorry I’m late, study buddy.” Dave smiles at you.

You stand up and give him a hug. Eddie feels a twang in his stomach. Once you let go Dave looks at Eddie. Eddie doesn’t stand and just sticks out his hand for Dave to shake, “Eddie.”

Dave takes his hand, “Dave.”

You sit back down and glare at Eddie. Dave sits across from you and starts small talk. Eddie couldn’t help but feel left out as you talk about school. Eddie was taking night school for his GED so this college jargon was flying over his head. But he notices the way Dave looks at you. He started to feel uncomfortable and his knee started to bounce rapidly.

As you talk, you notice Eddie’s composure. He is digging his nails into the table and he doesn’t appear to be listening . You’re saddened but you don’t let it show on you face. After the coffee shop you, Dave leaves and you head home.

Back in the apartment you read on the couch as Eddie silently makes lunch. He still has that sullen look on his face. “Did you like Dave?” You ask.

“He’s alright.” He shrugs

“Just alright?”

“He helped you with your tests.” He says, “I’m grateful.”

“But is that all?”

“Yes? What else is there?”

“Well, I don’t think you actually like him.”

“What’s not to like? He’s smart, rich, and attractive. You spend all your time with him.” He looks at you like he’s in love. He’s the whole package.”

You look at him taken aback, “Are you… Are you jealous?”

Eddie grumbles, “Maybe I am.”

You stand up and walk over to him, “Oh baby, you don’t have to be jealous. Dave is nothing like you and —”

“That’s what I’m worried about. You’ll find someone who's not like me. Not a wanted fugitive, not a high school dropout struggling to get a GED, somebody who is smart, getting a college degree, dammit!” His voice cracks, “We can’t go out in public too long or else I might get recognized. I feel like deadweight here. I’m holding you back and I am afraid you’ll come to the same conclusion and leave.” Instantly, you grab Eddie and hug him tightly. You feel pricks of water trickle onto your shoulder. He mumbles, “I don’t know what I’d do if you left me.”

“I would never,” You pet his head, “I’m not leaving. Never leaving.”

“I love you so much.” He whimpers.

“I love you always and forever baby.” You move your hands to his cheeks so he can look at you, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You continue to soothe Eddie into the late night. You lay in bed rubbing his bare back. Your hands gently graze over the scars that decorated his body. He is completely relaxed in your lap, “I promised you to keep you safe. To stay with you through all of this. I love you too much to break that promise.” You kiss the top of his head before turning before turning off the light.

[suddencolds]

Fool Me Twice [3/?]

I had a stressful week and was sort of considering dropping/discontinuing this fic, but then I ended up having fun writing this part last night :’) So here’s part 3—definitely a little different from what I usually write (and I was a little bold with certain decisions, haha). Enjoy! 

Part 3 ft. fake dating, a New Year’s celebration, drunken decisions, implied/referenced contagion (maybe)

You can read Part 1 [here]! (No additional context is needed aside from the previous 2 parts).

—

Margot’s decorated the bathroom nicely— a glass soap dispenser, tied with a singular golden ribbon that seems—intentionally or not—in theme with the decorations outside; a small, fluffy blue rug; a shower curtain lined with silhouettes of raindrops, and one of those scented reed diffusers, scented like bamboo and lemongrass. Neither of which he’s allergic to, to his knowledge, but with this cold, any small push is enough to send him over the—

“hhEH… hehh’IIZSCHEEW!”

The sneeze does nothing—or close to nothing—to relieve the tickle in his nose. Yves desperately hopes that the walls are more soundproof than they appear to be. He reaches blindly for the roll of toilet paper, if only to have something to cover the resounding—

“hEHh… hEH-hHEh-! hhhEH’iTSSCH-Eew! Snf-! hEHH… HEHh’iIZSCHEEw!” 

The sneezes scrape unpleasantly against his throat, enough that he coughs a little, after. He blows his nose into the handful of toilet paper and finds, even after, that his nose is still practically dripping. His excuse to Erika had been nothing more than that—an excuse—but he’s starting to feel as if this bathroom excursion was necessary in more ways than one.

The cold medicine from earlier is certainly starting to wear off, if the congestion settling in his sinuses is anything to go by. He’s tired, even though it isn’t especially late, and his throat is undoubtedly sorer than it had been before he got here. On top of everything with Erika, it feels like insult to injury. 

Erika. Where would he even begin with her? Now—knowing that she wants to be friends with him still—what can he do? Has anything she’s said tonight merited his forgiveness? Even if she hadn’t meant to cheat on him—even if she’d been planning to break up with him formally, even if she’d only made out with Brendon because she was drunk—does that make any of this permissible? She still lied to him. That night, when she’d gone to the party, she’d told him that she was just visiting a relative. The only reason why Yves had found her there with Brendon—the only reason why he’d shown up at the party at all—was because he’d been dropping something off for a friend.

She might not have chosen to cheat on him. But she’d still chosen to get drunk with someone she knew she had feelings for. Is that really any better?

And there’s this, too—part of Yves wants to forgive her. Part of him wants to move past everything, if only it means he’ll get to keep her as a friend. There was a point where she was everything to him, and maybe a friendship would be second best to everything if it meant he’d get to keep talking to her. That version of her that he remembers, walking with him through the 5am dark to crew practice, leaning into his shoulder.

Yves turns on the sink, lets the cold water wash over his hands for a few seconds before he cups his hands together to splash some water on his face. For reasons other than the cold water, his eyes sting. He shouldn’t have come here, he thinks. Seeing Erika again, after everything, feels like reopening a wound that had only started to close up.

Or maybe that isn’t right. Maybe he’s not over her at all.

From the other side of the door, he hears a sharp knock.

“I’ll - snf-! - be out in a sec,” he says. “I thidk Margot has adother bathroom if you need to go.” One that he hasn’t just sneezed in, notably.

“Do you need anything?”

It’s Vincent.

It occurs to Yves, all of a sudden, what an asshole he’s been. He’s the entire reason why Vincent is here in the first place, and here he is, locked in the bathroom, leaving Vincent alone at a party he wouldn’t enjoy to socialize with people he doesn’t know.

But what can he say? He’s far from presentable, right now—with the large, glossy bathroom mirror in front of him to confirm it—his face flushed, his hair a mess. There’s no way he can open the door, as it stands, and let Vincent see him like this.

“I could… hEHh… hEHh’iIIZSCHEEW! snf-! Ugh, I could use a dridk right ndow,” he says instead, which is more honest than he intends, except then he remembers he’s not supposed to be drinking. “Wait, fuck. I still have to drive.”

“I can do it,” Vincent says, “If you trust me with your car. I wasn’t planning on drinking.” 

“I do trust you with my car,” Yves says. 

“What do you want? Champagne? A beer?”

“Whatever you find that will get mbe idtoxicated the fastest.” It’s half a joke.

“So you can wake up tomorrow with a hangover to go with your cold?”

“Hodestly? I can’t think of a better start to the ndew year,” Yves says.

A pause. “If it’s what you want.” It’s an easier victory than he’d expected—he supposes he can’t complain. He listens as Vincent’s footsteps recede.

He shuts the water off. Runs a hand through his hair, fixes some of the strands back in place. Blows his nose again, for good measure. His face is a little flushed—probably a telltale sign that he has a fever—but if he drinks, who will notice?

Vincent is back a couple minutes later. He knocks with the same, curt knock as before, and this time, Yves opens the door.

He’s standing there, looking no less charming than before, holding a cocktail glass. There’s an orange slice on the edge, and an elegantly placed sprig of rosemary—Margot’s doing, probably.

“Vodka and orange juice,” he says, by way of explanation. “Margot said it’s called a screwdriver.”

“She’s really committed to the orange juice,” Yves says, and takes the glass from him. “Thadks, snf! I’m sorry for disappearing on you.”

Vincent looks like he’s about to say something more. Yves braces himself for the questioning, but instead, Vincent turns away. “It’s fine.”

“And sorry about Erika,” Yves says. He thinks he sounds a little less congested now that he’s blown his nose—at least, for the time being.  “It’s just—it’s been awhile since I’ve seen her. But that doesn’t mbean—i mean, I don’t wadt you to have to worry about all of this.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” “I just want you to edjoy the party,” Yves says. “Well, as much as you can, adyways. I can handle myself.”

“I never doubted that,” Vincent says.

“That’s why you’re the perfect pretend boyfriend.” Yves tips his drink back, takes a couple large, indulgent sips. He doesn’t catch Vincent’s expression as they take their seats again at the dinner table.

“You’re back,” Erika says. “I was starting to think you were planning on camping out in the bathroom for the rest of the night.”

“Yeah, it’s quite the complicated bathroom,” Yves says. “Thankfully Vincent was there to show me the way out.”

The rest of dinner is surprisingly uneventful—or maybe Yves is too tipsy to pick up on Erika’s passive aggression. Either way, he finds himself actually enjoying himself through the haze of the screwdriver and a few glasses of champagne. It helps that Erika hasn’t brought up the whole friend thing again, and it helps that Margot stops by a few times, whenever the conversation lulls, to change the subject to something utterly unrelated to his breakup. Yves isn’t sure how much of a role Vincent has to play in that. At some point—halfway through another sneezing fit—Vincent wordlessly gets him a stack of napkins, and Yves is not embarrassed enough to pretend he doesn’t need them at all.

After dinner and dessert (which Yves would usually help with, on the many occasions when he doesn’t have a cold, but which Margot does a perfectly impressive job with), everyone disperses again. Yves catches up with everyone he knows from college, introduces Vincent to them (“Don’t tell Vincent I said this,” he says, “But I think he’s way too smart to be on our team,” and Vincent laughs and modestly denies this), and wonders what he’ll tell them all when, inevitably, Vincent doesn’t show up to any of their future meetups. At some point in the future, Vincent will find someone, presumably, who he’ll spend every subsequent New Year’s with. Yves is a little too drunk to think about the slight pang in his stomach when he considers this.

It’s only when it’s nearing midnight that he finds himself out on Margot’s balcony with Vincent.

It’s a nice view of the city, with its rows and rows of glittering skyscrapers. Yves leans out on the railing. 

The alcohol has done its job of making him feel pleasantly warm indoors, but it’s too cold outside for it to have the same effect. He doesn’t realize he’s shivering until Vincent says, “Are you too cold?”

“No,” Yves says, crossing his arms in an attempt to keep himself from shivering. “It’s… ndot that… cold out—hh-! hHehh’IIZSCHh-EEW!” Ugh. Very convincing.“That was bad timing, snf-!, I swear.”

“Bad timing, I’m sure,” Vincent says, his tone soft. “We can go inside if you want.”

“No,” Yves says, rubbing his nose. “It’s nicer out here, snf-! Also, I’m sure there will be fireworks at mbidnight. Which is soon.”

“So you’re taking the best vantage point all for yourself,” Vincent says.

“Yes, I— hHh-hHEH-!” He thinks it might culminate in another sneeze, but the tickle in his nose dissipates, very frustratingly, at last possible moment. “I got here first,” Yves says, sniffling. “Finders, keepers.”

“In that case,” Vincent says. Then—in lieu of finishing that sentence—he unbuttons his blazer and drapes it over Yves’s shoulders. 

Yves stares at him, disbelieving. The blazer is still warm—indulgently, comfortably warm—from Vincent’s shoulders. “There’s no way you’re not cold wearing that,” he says, gesturing to Vincent’s button-down shirt. It’s long-sleeved—a small consolation—but with fabric that thin, there’s really no chance he’s dressed warmly enough for this weather.

It’s starting to snow again—lightly enough that the snow melts into water when it hits the ground.

Vincent shrugs. “I grew up here. I’m used to it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” Yves says, pulling the jacket closer. “Thadks.”

Inside, almost everyone who hasn’t left has gathered in the living room. Someone—Mikhail, maybe—is telling a story to the crowd, to raucous laughter. Then, after a bit, Margot says something, lifting her glass of champagne, and everyone joins her in counting down. Ten. Nine.

“Erika’s watching,” Vincent says, after a beat. Eight. Yves turns and sees that he’s right—he spots her somewhere in the crowd, in her sleek blue dress. When she catches him looking, she waves. Seven. Six. “She’ll probably be expecting us to kiss.”

Yves looks away from her to look at Vincent. Vincent, who’s here just because Yves asked him to be, who looks unfairly attractive even in something as forgettable as a white button-down shirt, who Yves will probably never have another chance to spend a night with again. The question is out of his mouth before he can think twice about it.

“Can we?”

He almost bites his tongue after. What is he thinking? It’s a ludicrous request—something absolutely unfitting to ask from a coworker, especially when he has a cold—and he’s certain he would never have asked it if he were sober. He opens his mouth to apologize, to explain himself, but—

Two. One.

Vincent leans in, briefly, and kisses him.

Beyond them, fireworks shatter into the sky. There’s the sound of cheering in the living room. 

The kiss lasts only a moment before Yves is wrenching himself away, taking a couple hurried steps back before his head snaps forward with a sudden, spraying—

“Hhehh’IIDSCHiiEW!”

—which, despite his efforts, almost certainly mists Vincent’s collar. It’s enough of a warning for him to lift his hand to his face and twist away to cover the subsequent—

“hHEH… Hheh’yISSCHEew! Snf-! Heh… hheh-!! Hheh… HEHh’iiDDZSChiEw!”

He feels heat creep up into his cheeks.  “I’mb so sorry,” he says, and means it for everything—for the untimely sneeze, for the kiss, for inviting Vincent to the party in the first place. “That was… I’mb really sorry. Oh, god, I really hope you don’t catch this. I would feel awful if you caught this.” His head swims, and he finds himself grabbing the railing to steady himself, muffling a fit of harsh, grating coughs into his hand. Usually, it would be his sleeve, but given that the sleeve he has on now belongs to Vincent’s very nice blazer, his options are limited.

Yves leans his weight onto the railing, sniffling, and shuts his eyes against the dizziness. He might be drunker than he’d given himself credit for. 

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Vincent says. Yves doesn’t want to look at him, doesn’t want to see what he might be thinking. He really, really owes Vincent for all of this. “Are you tired?”

“Just a little drunk,” Yves answers. “We should probably head home soon.” 

“Okay,” Vincent says.

The apartment is indulgently warm when they step back inside. Yves hands Vincent back his jacket and lingers in the living room to say goodbye to Margot (he has the pleasure of watching her hug Vincent for the second time tonight) and to the handful of college friends that he recognizes. It’s a short walk to the car through the snow—just a few minutes, except he finds it to be more of a tedious walk than expected, and Vincent has to grab his arm a couple times to keep him from stumbling.

“Careful,” he says sternly, the first time.

Yves stares at him, tries to think about what sober Yves would say. He’s always been a little too honest when drunk.

“You are a godsend,” he says. “Thanks for coming todight. I kdow you hate parties.”

“I don’t hate parties. Are you always like this when you’re drunk?”

“Like what?”

Vincent laughs—a short, soft laugh which Yves wishes he could hear more of. “This is the fifth time you’ve thanked me.”

Is it really? “Ndo, I just am… hEH-!” Yves twists away from Vincent, just in time to let out a barely covered— 

“hehh’IZZSCHH-iIEW! Snf!” The sneeze jerks him forward, harsh—and loud—enough that he feels a twinge of pain in his throat. Luckily, Vincent won’t be here tomorrow to see him lose his voice. 

“Bless you,” Vincent says, reflexively.

“That’s definitely ndot the fifth time you’ve blessed me,” Yves says. “It’s more than that for sure. So I’mb allowed to thadk you more than once.”

“If you put it that way.”

Vincent drives him home. Yves directs the GPS to his address and tries to stay awake so he can talk to him, until Vincent says, “If you’re tired, you should sleep,” which Yves wants to protest. It seems rude to fall asleep in his own car when he’s supposed to be the one driving in the first place. But maybe Vincent is tired, too, from having had to socialize with strangers all night, and maybe silence would be preferable to him now. So Yves leans his head against the passenger seat window and shuts his eyes.

It feels like he’s only been asleep for a minute before Vincent taps him on the shoulder.

“We’re here,” he says, pulling the keys from the ignition.

“That was fast,” Yves says. He muffles a small cough into his sleeve. “Thadks again for driving me. I’mb sorry we stayed out so late.” He checks his watch—it’s close to 1am. It occurs to him that he has no idea if Vincent is a morning person, if this is considered late by his standards. If he’s tired, too.

“It’s no problem,” Vincent says, stifling a yawn into his hand. Well, that answers his question.

Yves unbuckles his seatbelt, opens the passenger door, and gets out. It’s brutally cold out, cold enough that he has to fight back a shiver. “At least wait inside as I call you an Uber?” “You don’t have to do that.”

But Yves is already pulling out his phone, scrolling through their messages for Vincent’s address. It’s the least he can do, after everything.

Vincent waits inside with him for a few minutes. It’s a bit of a wait for his ride—probably everyone’s trying to get back home from their New Year’s parties at this time—so Yves makes them both some hot chocolate (nothing fancy, given the time constraints—just hot cocoa mix with some cinnamon and steamed milk—but Yves says “You should come again some time, I promise I can actually cook when I have more than three minutes”) and sits with him in the living room. He finds himself almost disappointed when the cab finally arrives.

“Get home safe,” Yves says.

“Thanks,” Vincent says. “I will.”

“And Vincent?” Vincent turns.

There’s a hundred things Yves wants to say to him. He wants to say, you didn’t have to do this. He wants to say, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. He wants to say, how can I make it up to you?

“Happy New Year,” he says, instead, and Vincent smiles.

[ Part 4 ]

[kurottsukii]

Five | Cool Kids

The alarm from Eva's phone went off, sadly it wasn't a soft alarm that'll ease you out of your slumber, it was the kind of alarm that'll give you a whole heart attack and it did. The obnoxious beeping sound scared Yovanna out of her sleep, causing her to hit her head on the steering wheel which woke Eva up.

Groaning at the pain that was now forming seconds later, she threw something at Eva for her to hit the damn snooze button. The sound was so loud, it got someone's attention from outside, who was now staring at the girls through the window.

Which was really creepy by the way.

He had milky white skin and spikey red hair, he kinda looked like a leprechaun, a freakishly tall leprechaun.

"Are you two alright?" The tall leprechaun spoke which only scared the girls more, Eva was close to pulling out her pepper spray till Vonna stopped her with a glare.

"Uh..yeah, sorry for the disturbance Mr. It was a long drive here.."

Yovanna apologized in a rugged sick like tone that made her sound like a crackhead or worse...a man. The tall leprechaun like fellow nodded in reply, taking in the scenery that was in front him, by how tired both girls looked, and how messy the car was with candy rappers; you would think they were homeless or something. And that what was exactly what the guy was thinking.

"Well, if you want to shower you can use mine. Its the least I can do, you two look like you haven't slept for days...and I don't feel right leaving you two here by yourselves." The man was nice enough to invite two strangers into his room...or was it really?

Knowing Eva wasn't going to turn down the offer, Yovanna nodded in reply but was still ready to fight if things turn left. Besides, the girl didn't have a room, they didn't know what hotel they were at, and she has a meeting in a few hours. So why not risk it a bit? If things do go south, there's two of them and one of him, so it wouldn't really work out in his favor. The mystery guy held a genuine smile as he went to open the door for Eva who just zoomed out of it like a excited puppy. Meanwhile Yovanna stayed inside for a bit to clean up the wrappers before getting out, grabbing both her and Eva's bags. She couldn't even take a step forward without the mystery guy taking all the bags out of her hands. It was a sweet gesture really, but Yovanna didn't need help.

"Oh! My name is Stephan but call me Sheamus. I'm a wrestler here in WWE, it would be nice to see you two in the audience, sorry if I'm being too forward." Sheamus had a shy like grin on his face, what a sweet guy. He took two girl's in his room to shower and eat and now he's inviting them to his show.

But what he said caught Yovanna's interest, not him inviting them to watch him but...that he works in the company she was going to join. Maybe he could be her trainer! Just as she was about to speak, Eva beat her to it.

"Well that won't be happening, Vonna here, has a contract signing with your boss! Most likely we'll see you backstage."

Sheamus eyes darted towards Yovanna as his smile grew wide, it kinda made her heart skipped a beat or two. He didn't say a word, not even questioning what Eva said, he just smiled. He was incredibly handsome and he definitely knew it, but Yovanna still, strangely, had her heart set on the stranger from the club/one night stand.

He still haven't texted her which sucked, you know? To not remember anything but still have the guy in your mind all day everyday. She didn't even know him so it shouldn't matter if a one night stand didn't want to hit her up, but why does it bother her so bad? Maybe it's the eyes and the body, maybe its because she so desperately want to have sex with him again and actually remember it.

Whatever it was, it can't matter right now. Today is all business not chick flicks.

Once they made it to the lobby, they were greeted by curious eyes from men and women that were built like greek gods and goddesses. They were all so muscular and good looking, Eva was in awe but Yovanna held no emotion in her face. Their lingering eyes made her uncomfortable, it felt like they were judging her. Why wouldn't they? She was a stranger that was following their coworker like she was some groupie.

They soon made it to the elevator with no interruptions, Eva and Sheamus seemed to already have a conversation in order to get to know each other better while their dear friend just stared off into space.

Until the familiar sound of her phone buzzing broke her out of her thoughts, it was just Vince reminding her about their meeting though, nothing really important. Unless you count the tweets and retweets she was getting about her beef with Randy. The elevator was surprisingly long, it took twenty minutes for them to make it to Sheamus room. Eva was the first one to shower, leaving Sheamus and Yavonna alone. The conversation with the two was short but sweet, he agreed to be her trainer but that was it. They didnt asked each any personal questions or anything. Once Eva got out, Yovanna rushed in the bathroom without a word.

--The meeting--

The three made it to the arena around 6pm, Vincent called to change the time, apparently he was busy or whatever. Backstage was busy, it was nothing like UFC. There was over a few hundred people crowding the place, Eva and Yavonna had to cling themselves onto Sheamus in order to make it through the intense crowd. He assured them that it was always like this, Eva was shocked, but Yovanna felt uneasy. Big crowds made her uncomfortable.

Soon enough, Shaemus dropped the girls off at Vince's door. They hugged and say their goodbyes, watching their new leprechaun friend head off to wherever he was going.

Once they couldn't see him anymore, they turned to the door that had a plack on it that held Vince's full name. Yovanna swallowed hard, pushing away at the thoughts, well voices...screaming at her to just back out and make a run for it but she just ignored them.

With one knock, the door swung open and the two was greeted by an very unattractive old man that looked rich, like filthy, disgusting rich and yet also racist, this must've been Vince. He began to smile once he spotted Yovanna, completely ignoring Eva's presence.

"Ah, Yovanna! You made it!" He voice held power but yet it sounded like he been yelling at the top of his lungs for years, it was horrible really but she held a smile to make it seem like she was happy to be here. "And who's this with you?" He was referring to Eva who wasn't even paying attention. She was too busy gawking at a pale skin girl dressed in black who was on her phone, eating what looked like grapes.

Yovanna gave her a small nudge to her side to get her attention. "This is my best friend and partner, Eva. I hope you don't mind her being here.."

His eyes went back to Yovanna as he took in her appearance, it felt like he was undressing her with his eyes but no one noticed except her. His smile grew but he didn't say anything, instead he walked back to his desk leaving the door open for the girls to come in.

Once walking inside amd closing the door behind them, once again that uneasy feeling was creeping back up. She felt nervous about this whole thing, being here in WWE, being in a room with Vince, it felt like a intoxicated dream. And she was about to sign her soul away to the devil that took away her aunt, her hero.

Vince pulled out the contract, handing it over to Yovanna for her to read over everything that was said over the phone between the two. She couldn't help but smile a little at how all of her request and conditions were in the contract. That smile soon disappeared. She knew that no one in wwe had the things she had in her contract, she didn't have to follow all the rules they did, she felt spoiled.

But then again, Vince wanted her here. This wasn't her dream job like it was everyone else's. To her, it was another job but to them it was their life.

The room was silent, Yovanna could feel all eyes on her as she cautiously signed on the doted line. After doing so, she felt chills down her spine, it literally felt like she just signed away her soul. She placed Vince's copy on his desk as she kept hers in her lap.

Her eyes went up towards Eva who returned her worried gaze with a small smile, she then looked at Vince who looked beyond thrilled. She returned his excited expression with a small smile of her own.

"Welcome to WWE Mrs. Silva."

He said and with that, the girls were on their way to the door till he stopped them. "You are going to debut next month. That gives you time to build your tension with Randy and to train, which starts tomorrow at NXT. I wish you luck. That's all, bye ladies."

And with that, they left his office. Eva took her bestfriend's hand, pulling her in a quick hug. "Look at you, a UFC female champion and now a WWE Diva. Congrats Vonna."

Sorry it took so long to update, my update schedule is going to be slow for next week due to me having school and work but I'll try.

Also sorry for the bad writing lol, as the story continues, it'll get better I promise. I just suck at beginnings.

[pomplumbing0]

Requirements of Perfect and Professional Plumbing Services

It's turned out to be quite common for people to overlook their plumbing issues that are commonplace in the day. We tend to ignore plumbing-related issues under the rug in the event that we could do this. They put off the maintenance on their hot water heaters or hot water systems in the hope that everything will go wrong. There are many instances that the simplest day-to-day problems have turned into complete plumbing emergencies. In the majority of such situations the only solution is to seek an emergency plumbing service from one or another reliable service provider. There are many plumbing service providers in Melbourne which specialize in providing high-end services for their customers and customers in various aspects of plumbing in toronto.

A lot of tasks don't climb up the structure, while essential to move forward the construction of every work within. It is imperative to run to connect with this crucial. Revocation of construction of general buildings and electricity supply oxygen packaging and decoration, color security equipment, many of these jobs could be developed. This is why we're concerned with the water pipe in the way it is often thought of. In reality, plumbers are expensive due to the parts of the plumbing and the components of the plumbing are expensive. It's a very hard job. However, there is no other option than to deal with our issues. This is the essential aspect to must choose the best professional plumbing services. Plumbing issues can happen at any moment whether it's all day or night. If you aren't willing to want to wait until the next day, take advantage of the 24-hour Emergency Plumbing Services. Professionally trained and certified plumbers are able to resolve the issue quickly, so don't wait around and choose professional plumbing services.

Plumbing includes the installation of a water lines for water supply and the evacuation from both structures. The entire network of pipes that connect to a different location that is equal to the source of the water within the building should be in place to prevent water from getting to be sent to every element. Other elements, such as the transport pipe , which is situated in the outside of the building that is for make a water slurry. Storage system based on water for treatment of waste water. The middle of these joint lead pipes , water heating pipes and water configuration.

Piping, this task can't be completed by a novice. To perform diverse tasks of varying proficiency and competence implicitly. Always have been certified, and requires the services of a certified professional plumber to efficiently. The pipe needs to be constructed by observing the draft in the construction. Therefore, it is possible to get a plumbing service to repair the pipe inside the building as well as the point of origin.

Our plumbing pipe, the need for piping, and the need for consumers to know what happens when you employ a novice company that has not had a in the right plumbing pipe and we are able to talk to witnesses. The leak was caused by the plumbing system being defective or perhaps more familiar. Pipes for drainage and side sewers are often required to provide a second mobile service provider to whom would have been required when we're completely committed to the initial commitment. The shower nozzle, or drop, is repairable without much effort.

But, the pipes that leak or sheets close to the bed linens and the walls. The pipeline, the structure was clean just a few days ago and replaced the construction. The construction will be organized chaos. The proportion of the cost of several more can shake the pockets of everyone. If the discoloration, fungus, smell or poor circuit court of the country, people who could be affected by the consequences of short time to show any requirement for repair is not there, it will be discovered.

[unholyplumpprincess]

heyyyy, what do you think it would be like with Revenant and a reader who’s naturally flirty and all “You know you love me” or “i’ll give you a kiss if you ____~~”. Basically another Mirage but less self depressive and scared

I think you're thinking more Loba than you are Mirage ieghierh.

But! Sure! I'll edit this a little bit and have the reader be more like the type to flirt with death as a double pun!

!!!Though this post is SFW, this blog is not, minors plz do not follow me but this post is okay to like/rb!!!

Warnings: SFW, kinda-ish suggestive only bc of the types of flirting, like rated T ya know, tsundere Revenant as per usual

______

Revenant doesn't really have an opinion on you right off the bat when you enter the arena. At first, you're just another competitor. Another blood bag to wipe the floor with, nothing more, nothing less. It's only when he's on the opposite squad to you and you take him down with a swift, piercing shot from a Kraber and march happily over to his downed body- to oh so happily plop down into his lap, whipping out a thick dagger and pressing it to his temple and cheerily saying, "Who knew the Grim Reaper wasn't to be feared after all?" Does he really start to consider otherwise.

You're cheeky. You're fearless. You're flirty. And you're an annoying bug buzzing around him and making his metal plating crawl. The problem is, the sponsors realize this, and put you two together. He tries to tell you off, snarling and telling you not to get in his way. But you bat your big fucking eyes and croon, "Do I get a reward if I obey?"

He doesn't know how to reply. Just scoffs a 'gah!' at you and pushes you by your face to the side as you laugh. But the problem is, it affects him. And you realize this. Following him like a goddamned puppy and pushing his buttons. Flirting left and right, making him feel all weird and...and...and-

Human.

You call him handsome, you call him cute, you compliment his aim- hell you even climbed to the roof to find him at some point and sat with him even when he grumbled at you to go away. You'd just told him he needed the company, and if he wanted you gone, to say it like he meant it.

You're a bug that needs to be dealt with. So he does. Outside the ring of a match, pinning you in the hallway of the quarters in the dead of night. You're wet from a shower, and you don't even gasp or look alarmed when he pins you. Worse thing is, he's..

He's almost happy you don't look scared.

"Hey, big guy!" You cheerily say, squirming a bit as his clawed grip keeps you pinned by your shoulders. "I mean. I'm more of a morning sex kinda person, but we can go a round for midnight-"

"I'm not looking for sex." He'd snarl and not even feel certain of it. Feeling his processors heating up with just the oh so casual way you'd set it and bat your fucking eyes-

"You sure?" You interrupt his thought process, making him see just how close you two are. He's got a leg slid between yours, your head lolled to the side openly, your hands pressing to his chest as if to keep distance between you two like he'd come any closer. "Cause I'll have to ask you to take me to dinner- or at least go and get snacks."

"Why do you act like that?" He finally snaps. Feeling that twist in his system. That little snap that makes him flicker, picturing his clawed hands as human. How his arms become clad in what appears like a suit for a moment. How you twist him up. Stupid, flesh-suited, pathetic-

"I think you're nice to look at." You interrupt his thoughts again, a smile on your face and looking so sincere that he considers skinning your face off just to make you stop looking at him like that. "And I think your voice is nice. Even when you sound mad."

It's so earnest. So gentle. So sincere. He's silent for a few moments, optics spinning as his eyes flicker over your face. But you don't laugh, don't pull the rug out from under him, just smile and look almost hopeful up at him.

He huffs, scoffing and pushing off your shoulders. His face plating feels warm, his processors kicking into high drive and fans trying to keep him cool. And you must hear it, because your smile gets bigger, looking overjoyed as you speak, "So that's a no to sex but yes to dinner?"

"...Don't push your luck." Revenant growls. "You're lucky I'm even giving you the time of day, flesh suit."

"Sir, yes, sir." You say, mockingly saluting him and making his wires give a jolt that he can only describe as fondness.

Gross.

[catdadacd]

Friends to Lovers the “date” that isn't really a date but feels like one

showing up at each other’s house late at night Either one. If it so inspires?

So, I went with showing up at each others house late at night.

I hope you enjoy it! Thank you as always for asking.

Knock Softly

Eddie knocks softly.

He’d convinced himself on the way over that he shouldn’t use his key. If he knocked softly, and Buck didn’t answer, then he would go back home and just… deal - Buck was asleep, and he wouldn’t wake him.

The thing is, he’d had a therapy session that day and where he would usually be wrung out, where he would usually just have a nap and sleep off some off the weight, let himself process unconsciously, this time he just couldn’t. His brain was not switching off. Christopher is with Pepa. The house is empty and entirely too quiet, too clean, so far removed from the sand and the mud and the blood in his head that it made him squirm.

The way that he’s conditioned to take his shoes off when entering his parents’ house because of how often there had been tutting and clucking and shooing when he did it as a child. The way people take a rug outside and close the doors and windows before beating the dust out of it. The way the pandemic had nurses staying in hotels, so they didn’t take something deadly back home.

So, he found himself grabbing the keys to his truck, in t-shirt and sweatpants, and taking himself to Bucks apartment at 1:30 am and, he’s sure, Frank might have something to say about that. Why could he take all his dirt and grime to Buck? Why was it only Buck he could take it to? They’re not questions he’s willing to answer yet.

Buck opens the door and Eddie looks like a deer in headlights. Like Christopher with his hand in a bag of chips. They don’t do this. Sure, have been phone calls at these kinds of times; after nightmares and rough days and bad calls, but never visits.

Buck looks him over and Eddie can see how meticulous it is, searching for some injury he can see, but he doesn’t find one. Call it a force of habit.

“Um…” Eddie scrambles for something, but still finds himself thinking about why he’s at Bucks.

His mind goes back to when this same apartment became, not only Bucks home, but a hostel for him, Hen and Chimney. A place for them to keep their dirt away from their (soon to be, for one) kids. Where everyone was safely away from them because they were still out there, doing their jobs, even though anyone could be contagious. He thinks of the showers they all took, one after the other, no one touching anything until they had. He didn’t know what it was supposed to mean but there was definitely something in it to think about.

“…I couldn’t sleep…” He finishes, finally, and Buck - wonderful, perfect, mind reader Buck - doesn’t say a word.

He steps aside and lets Eddie in, closes the door behind him and locks it, drifts through the apartment, and turns off the tv and then pads up the stairs with socked feet. Eddie doesn’t need to ask. Buck doesn’t need to gesture.

When the lights are off, it doesn’t matter. There’s no hesitation. Only Buck curling around him once he’s comfortable. Only a lax arm over his waist and steady puffs of air on the back of his neck. Sleep comes easy.

--

Buck is okay with water now. It’s not the water that does it. This isn’t a tsunami, there’s no force of nature. In the grand scheme of things, it’s a very small amount of water.

What does it, is the kid that’s right in front of the tank that’s about to burst. There’s no sign of a parent running to usher him out of the way and the truck isn’t close enough yet that Buck can do it himself. He just watches in real time as the plastic holding splits, gallons upon gallons of water rush out, and kid is pummelled and carried down the street, and landing on his back face up, spluttering when the flow settles down.

The kid has a couple of bumps and scrapes. It really isn’t a big deal, hell it should have been funny, but Buck can’t shake it. The same constant, screaming fear from the Tsunami, when he turned around and Christopher was gone. Just gone. There’s a knot in his stomach through the rest of his shift. He doesn’t eat Bobbys casserole. He’s distracted and jumpy, and he thinks that the ache in his legs might just be in his head.

It doesn’t stop when his shift ends, either. When does it ever? He sits down for a moment alone and the scene replays over and over in his head; some of them exactly how it happened, some end worse, sometimes he sees more water, sometimes he sees Christopher.

He gives up around midnight. Gives up trying to do it himself. Gives up trying to tell himself that he should be past it. Gives up telling himself that Eddie would think him stupid for it. He never did back then and he wouldn’t now.

He knocks softly, starkly aware that Christopher should and would be asleep, even if Eddie isn’t. There was no way he was using his key.

Eddie opens the door and Buck thinks he might be shaking, his eyes might be burning red, his hands might be balled into fists, he can feel Christophers glasses around his neck.

“Buck...” It almost has the inferral of a question, but it didn’t quite make it. Eddies moving backwards. Letting him in. Because Christopher is absolutely fine and he doesn’t hate Buck for losing him.

“Can I see Chris?” Eddie blinks, tilts his head and looks as though he would be making a sarcastic comment about asking stupid questions if Buck didn’t look like he might shake apart any second.

That’s Buck cue.

He stands in the doorway to Christophers room for what feels like a eternity. Until that knot shakes loose. Until the dull ache in his legs fade. Until his hand stops throbbing and his face stops stinging. Until the nausea in his gut is probably just hunger.

He turns on a relieved sigh and doesn’t find Eddie there. Anywhere near. He doesn’t go looking, he goes straight to the door, slides his shoes back on and he checks his pocket for his keys.

“Where are you going?” Eddie appears, voice gentle.

“Home.” Buck answers.

A frown creases Eddies forehead, not annoyed, not angry – not at Buck. He tugs the ring of keys off Bucks finger and places them on the table, taking hold of Bucks wrist instead of drawing back entirely.

“You are home.”

--

Buck has been awake for a while. Not that he minds. Eddie didn’t seem to notice that he’d managed to wake him, literally just crawled into the bunk and passed out.

He could probably go back to sleep himself, god knows he needed it, but he couldn’t help but think about how this had become a more and more regular occurrence. The whole turning up to each others homes, or bunks, and sleeping in the same bed. How it had become so... normal.

He wasn’t complaining, he just wondered if they were both on the same page. If Eddie had realised that somewhere between Eddie leaving the 118, committing to therapy, the complete breakdown of all the things that were not secure in the relationship they already had, and Eddie coming back to the 118, they had crossed a line. Broken through a glass ceiling.

He found it pretty hilarious, he was sure they would probably laugh about it together at some point; the way they’d inched together with barely a word. And yet words seemed to be getting so much easier. It was so very. Diaz.

Buck sees the moment Eddie wakes. He turns his head just a little, the flicker of his eyelashes, the inhale of breath –

“Did you mean it?” It tumbles out of his mouth before he can stop it, “what you said about- about home.” His voice low.

“Do I have to move your stuff in myself to prove it?” Eddies voice is still cracked from sleep.

Buck stays still, except for the hand that squeezes Eddies hip.

“Are you ever gonna kiss me?” Bucks sure he can hear Eddies eyes roll, but he makes a move to turn over anyway.

“Don’t you dare.” Comes from across the room from a sleep groggy Chimney.

Eddie buries his face in the pillow, shaking the bunk as he laughs.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 2) - Baseball Caps & Stroller Naps

Summary: The reader gets into the swing of things around the Ackles household and starts having more one on one time with Jensen. He even offers to set her up with a friend of his. When he invites her to a family outing as a friend though, she gets another glimpse that he might not be as put together as he appears...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Daddy!Jensen

Word Count: 5,900ish

Warnings: language, mention of death of a spouse/death of a parent

A/N: Things are starting to happen! This was also written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story Bingo!

________

“Good morning,” you said the next day as Jensen walked into the kitchen covered in sweaty workout clothes.

“Morning,” he said, going to the fridge to grab a drink. “Get the kids to school okay?”

“Yup,” you said, Jensen sniffing the air and humming as he walked over to where a loaf of banana bread was cooling in the rack. “Ah, it’s still too hot. Wait another half hour.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “It smells amazing by the way. I don’t think anything’s been baked in this house in six months.”

“I’ve always enjoyed it,” you said, Jensen taking a seat on top of the counter. He chugged down the cold bottle of water, some of it dripping down the corners of his mouth. “Enjoy sleeping in today?”

“You don’t know the half of it. I feel amazing.”

“You look rested for the first time since I’ve met you,” you said. “You should sleep in on the weekends more too. The kids don’t need to be up at dawn.”

“No, they don’t,” he said. “I do love sleep too. You do okay with getting the three of them going on your own today?”

“Yeah. JJ’s old enough to get herself dressed and make her bed and do a few things on her own. The twins are a balancing act but the trick is to give yourself double the amount of time you think you need and you’ll never be late.”

“Not a bad tip,” he said as you finished wiping off a glass and picked up a pad and pen. “Whatcha working on?”

“Ideas for crafts and that sort of thing. You guys have a lot of supplies already so I was thinking of some ideas to do this week,” you said.

“You know...you can stick them in front of a TV too. They have their shows they like. We aren’t big on tracking screen time,” he said. “As long as they play and do some kind of creative thing everyday they can watch TV for a few hours in a row if they want. Our parents didn’t worry about that shit when we were kids, you know?”

“No, they didn’t do that,” you said. He lifted up the bottom of his muscle tank and wiped off his face, your eyes going straight down to the pad so you wouldn’t risk staring. “Any work scheduled for today?”

“I gotta wash up, head to the brewery for a few to check on things. I have some voice acting work I’m doing right now so I go to a place downtown and record that. That’ll be my afternoon. I can handle making dinner tonight. I should be back around four thirty, maybe a hair after,” he said. 

“Alright,” you said. “Anything you need at the store today?”

“Nah, we got plenty here,” he said. He wiped off his face with his shirt again, using his collar this time. You handed him a dish towel and he smiled, rubbing it over his neck and head. “Sorry. I’m dripping aren’t I.”

“A little. Do you work out a lot?” you asked. 

“No more than the average person. Try to do thirty minutes in the morning most days of the week. It’s sort of been my only alone time lately,” he said.

“Are you a runner?”

“God no. I’m not built for that. I like boxing and HIIT, weights, that sort of stuff. Part of my job is to look a certain way so if I’m gonna be the tough guy…”

“You gotta look like a tough guy?” you asked. He smiled and you looked him up and down. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re a strong guy, that’s pretty obvious. But you’re not a tough guy.”

“Oh I’m not?” he asked but there was a lightness to his voice.

“Tough guys tend to be assholes. You’re too nice for that,” you said. 

“I suppose you have a point,” he said, sliding off the counter. He stepped over to the banana bread and picked up the knife nearby, slicing off a piece for himself and popping it in his mouth. “Hot. Hot.”

“I told you so,” you said with a small laugh.

“Tastes delicious though,” he said with his mouth full. You shook your head as he ate another piece and turned to go upstairs.

“Jensen,” you said, pointing at the sweaty dish towel. 

“Ugh, yes mom,” he said, swiping it away with a smile. 

“Thank you,” you said, tapping on your notepad. You felt his presence beside you, not to mention the smell, and turned your head up, Jensen smiling back. “Yes?”

“Aren’t you due for a break?” he asked.

“You don’t really get how this nanny thing works yet, do you.”

“Yeah well...I’m not a shitty boss so I guess you’ll have to get used to that too. Take a break Y/N. Have some coffee on the balcony. It’s a sunny January day. Enjoy it,” he said. You rolled your eyes and he pointed at the back door before he headed upstairs. You bit your bottom lip and glanced at the clock. You had been going for over three hours non-stop and one of those had been spent trying to convince a four year old he had to wear pants to daycare.

You turned to leave the kitchen when you heard a tsk. You jumped and slipped on the rug in front of the sink, falling backwards straight down to the hardwood floor.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he said as he rushed over. “I’m always tripping over that thing.”

“I’m fine,” you said as you sat up with his help. Your ass hurt but you knew you’d be alright. “Maybe we move the rug from the very trippable area?”

He swallowed and stared at you for a long moment before you smiled.

“How about we put it outside your office?” you asked softly. He nodded and you picked up one end of the long strip of fabric. He went to the other end and picked it up, backing up as you walked it over to the other side of the house. You laid it out in front of his closed door, smiling as you straightened it up. “There we go. Safe and sound.”

You headed back to the kitchen, Jensen lingering behind you.

“I was...gonna say you can make...you can use my coffee machine,” he said quietly. 

“Okay,” you said quietly. “Jensen.”

“Hm?”

“Stuff is stuff. This isn’t a museum. It’s a home. It’s gonna change over time.”

“I know. It’s just that rug...it is so damn ugly and I hate it,” he said with a smile. “I wanted to get rid of it the day she brought it home.”

“Wives have a way of getting the last word in,” you said. He chuckled and you got out a mug for yourself. “Tell me to shove it if this is too personal but are you sure you want to get back out into the dating world? It’s rough out there.”

“It is. Until it isn’t,” he said.

“You’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you.”

“Guilty as charged.” He rubbed the back of his neck and his cheeks flushed for a brief moment.

“Women like hopeless romantics,” you said. “Just don’t get taken advantage of for that. There’s some not so nice women out there too.”

“Afraid I’ll fall for some ditz?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think you’d do that. But someone might hurt you and you’ve been through enough. Maybe just...don’t fall in love at first sight or something like that,” you said. “Alright?”

“Never was much good at that,” he said to himself while you grabbed your coffee mug. “You believe in that sort of thing?”

“I’d like to. But you’re more of the expert on falling in love than I am,” you said.

“Maybe it’s not first sight but within a few days, a week, yeah I knew I was in love,” he said.

“Well if that happens again let me know and I’ll make sure this chick is good for you,” you said.

“I didn’t know my nanny came with bodyguard services,” he chuckled.

“That was under special skills on my resume,” you said as you headed over to the door to the balcony. “You should wash up. Don’t want to be late.”

“No I better not be,” he said. He turned to head upstairs, pausing on the first step. “You know, no one’s an expert at falling in love. Even those of us who were once married.”

“Oh don’t be a hopeless romantic for me getting my shit together too. We’ll be here for years,” you laughed. 

“Just sayin’...maybe we’ll both find somebody. Not that we need anyone to be happy but...you know what I mean,” he said. 

“Men don’t really talk about love like that you know.”

“I do,” he said. You smiled and he returned it. 

“That’s why all the good men get taken early, the ones that talk like that,” you said.

“I was older than you when I got married. Maybe I’ll get married again someday. We’re out there. I promise.”

“Go shower,” you said, waving him off. You slipped outside, closing the door behind you. You leaned over the railing with your mug and let out a sigh. “You have to a be a fucking hopeless romantic too don’t you. Fucking perfect at everything.”

You lowered your head and took a deep breath. 

“It’s a crush, it’s a crush,” you said, closing your eyes. “Just a crush. He’s your boss and a widow and he bought a birthday cake for me.”

You opened your eyes and glanced into the mug, taking another deep breath.

“He’s just nice. That’s it. Even if he’s…” you trailed off. You took a long sip of the hot liquid, not caring you were burning your tongue. Jensen was simply a nice person and that was that. You had a crush on the attractive single dad you were nannying for. There was nothing wrong with that and you knew for a fact it’d be gone by the end of the week tops.

“Ow,” you groaned a few days later. You opened your eyes and heard a knock at the door to your suite. “Yeah?”

“You okay in there? I thought I heard a crash,” said Jensen. 

“I’m fine,” you said, sitting up with a grunt, leaning back against your bed. “Shit.”

“Y/N, are you sure you’re alright?” he asked again.

“No,” you said with a sigh. “The door’s open.”

You peaked through your open door down the hall, Jensen opening the one to the suite and offering a friendly smile. You nodded and he walked inside, frowning at your cut up knee. 

“I got blood on the rug,” you said. “Do we have bleach?”

“I thought we agreed earlier this week a rug is just a rug,” he said, squatting down and looking at your knee. He looked up and saw your overturned garbage can in your closet where you’d been trying to reorganize a few clothes. “Next time use the step stool in the garage?”

“Yeah,” you said, your face hot. “I’m fine really. Just want to clean up the blood before it sets in.”

“It’s a few drops,” he said, helping you stand with a wince. “You got any first aid stuff?”

“Yeah,” you said, Jensen crossing his arms. “No.”

“Come on,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders and walking you down the hall. “Scraped up knees are my specialty.”

“Jensen,” you said, stopping at the kitchenette island and bending your leg a few times. 

“I’ll be right back,” he said. He left and you hopped over to the couch, stretching your leg out. The bleeding had stopped, just a thin cut on your knee cap where you’d hit it, but you knew you were in for a nasty bruise. He returned with a bottle and cotton ball in one hand, a bandage and ice pack in the other. 

“Sorry,” you said, Jensen setting the items down on the coffee table.

“Why would you apologize for getting hurt?” he said.

“I should have my own first aid supplies,” you said. 

“Ah. So you’re as stubborn as I am when you’re not feeling great,” he said. You looked down at your lap and took a deep breath.

“Am I fired?” you asked. 

“No? Why the fuck would I fire you?” he said. 

“I don’t know,” you said, picking up the bottle of rubbing alcohol.

“Have you been fired for getting hurt before?” he asked, watching you hold the cotton ball against the open bottle top and tip it over, soaking the liquid in. You pretended to not hear him and put the bottle back, wiping the ball over the cut, a deep red mark already on your skin. “Y/N.”

“Yes, I have,” you said. You set the ball on the table and picked up the bandage, trying to angle it over your knee. He rolled his eyes and took it out of your hand, bending down and turning it around, pressing it gently over your skin. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal,” he said as he looked up at you.

“Do I look like I have an HR department I can go to? They were dicks anyways,” you said.

“If you’re ever hurt, big or small, just tell me,” he said. He rested the ice pack over your knee and you sat back, throwing it up on the couch for you to lay there. “Promise I won’t fire you for it.”

“Well if I can’t do my job I’m not much use to you,” you said.

“Are all wealthy people assholes that act like that?” he asked. You shook your head and smiled. “Good.”

“I’ve nannied for eight different families, nine counting yours. Some were very good people,” you said.

“But you were just the help to them, even the good ones,” he said.

“I am the help. That’s the whole point of me being there,” you said. 

“Do me a favor? Don’t assume just because you’re someone’s employee that they think of you as just the help,” he said, picking up the first aid supplies.

“Sorry.”

“Why do you apologize for…” he said, muttering to himself as you looked down. “If I ever make you feel like that, smack me in the head, alright?”

“Alright,” you said quietly. He nodded and left with the items, returning a moment later with some cleaning spray, ducking into your room for only a moment before exiting.

“It’s all clean,” he said. He lingered at the door and put a hand on it. “Leave that ice pack on for fifteen minutes and pop it back in the freezer. Put it back on for a bit before bed.”

“Thanks,” you said. 

“It’s no problem,” he said. He still lingered and you took a deep breath.

“You should call someone, talk to them,” you said. He looked over his shoulder and you smiled. “You seem like you want to talk to somebody tonight is all.”

“I think I’m gonna go for a drive, maybe stop at a friend’s. The kids are all in bed,” he said. “If that’s cool.”

“Yeah go take a second for yourself,” you said. “I got everything here.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Jensen.”

One Week Later

“Y/N,” said Jensen as you washed your car in the driveway on a Saturday morning. You dropped the soapy sponge in the bucket and straightened yourself out. “Got plans today?”

“Uh, I was gonna run to the grocery store in a minute but other than that, no. Need me to watch the kids?”

“No. We were going out to lunch and then going to a little car show was all and we were wondering if you’d like to join us. Totally up to you. My treat.”

“You don’t want me to watch the kids?” you asked. He laughed and crossed his arms at you. “I’m confused.”

“Do you want to hang out with us today? For fun?” he asked.

“Oh,” you said. “That’s okay. You enjoy your time with the kids.”

“How do I make this clearer,” he said, walking over to you and looking down. “I want you to come with us, as a friend, to do something fun, like friends do. This is not work. Come if you want to.”

“You sure you want me to come?” you asked. He rolled his eyes and plopped his baseball cap on your head as he walked away.

“Yes. And wear sunscreen,” he said. “We’re leaving at eleven thirty.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you guys then.”

“There’s something about a burger that’s been cooked in a greasy pop up kitchen that just adds to the flavor,” you said as you took a bite of your cheese burger at the car show.

“It’s probably the grease,” he said, walking one hand on his burger, the other holding Arrow’s hand. She wiped her own little hand on his leg and he sighed as he looked down. “Arrow. I got napkins in my pocket.”

“Oh,” she said, wiping her face against him.

“No one mentions this part,” he chuckled. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulders once he was done with his food, humming as he pushed the stroller with a sleeping Zeppelin inside. 

“Dad, I gotta go to the bathroom,” said JJ. 

“I’ll take her and we can catch up with you guys?” you said. He mouthed a thank you to you as you headed over to the women’s room. You used the bathroom as well, finishing before her and waiting outside for her. “All set?”

“Yeah. Can we get fried dough?” she asked.

“Sure,” you said. You let her lead the way in line and got a plate for the two of you, taking a seat at a picnic table so she could dig in. “Taste yummy?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Dad likes fried dough a lot too.”

“Everybody does,” you said, taking a piece off the corner.

“Y/N, you don’t have a mom either right?” she said. “That’s what dad said.”

“Well that’s a funny question. I got a mom and so do you. They just aren’t around anymore is all,” you said. “What’s up?”

“I’m happy you stay with us I guess is all. I know you’re not mom and you work for dad but you kinda are and I like it when dad’s happy again,” she said.

“Me too. You doing okay, kiddo?” you asked. “It’s okay if you still miss your mom.”

“I do but I’m not sad anymore. Dad says when I get real old I can see her again so that’s cool,” she said, taking a big bite.

“It definitely is cool,” you said. “Maybe our mom’s are hanging out right now.”

“You think so?” she asked.

“Maybe. I bet they get up to some fun stuff up there,” you said. 

“Me too,” she said. “Dad’s really happy you came with us. He’s been cranky lately.”

“Your dad’s gonna be just fine,” you said as she finished off her food. “So do you like having a nanny? I know that’s kinda new and funny, huh.”

“Yeah but I really like you being home. Dad gets flustered sometimes.”

“Flustered?” you asked with a little laugh.

“He works on a lot of stuff and he didn’t pick me up on time from school and stuff a few weeks ago. Too many chickens in a basket,” she said.

“Too many eggs in one basket,” you said.

“Isn’t an egg gonna be a chicken though?”

“I...never thought of it that way,” you said. You nearly jumped when you felt some hands on your shoulders but JJ was smiling as Arrow climbed up next to you.

“Ah. I see you ladies found the fried dough. Twins you want some?” asked Jensen.

“Yes please,” they said and he chuckled as he went off to buy some more.

“Look at her,” said Jensen twenty minutes later, pausing at a deep blue Impala, the twins both conked out in their stroller. 

“Isn’t that the same car you have?” you asked, lifting up the brim of your baseball cap to get a better look.

“Mine’s a 67. That’s a 63. I love that color though,” he said. “Blue’s my favorite but it looks good on that car.”

“I think it looks good in black,” you said, walking again when you saw JJ a few cars ahead of the two of you. “Where’d you get your car?”

“Work,” he said with a quick smile, hiding behind his sunglasses and hat. 

“Aren’t you an actor?” you asked.

“You have very obviously never seen an episode of my show,” he chuckled. “Which is totally cool by the way. I drove that car in the show for well over a decade. She’s one of my true loves.”

“Ah, gotcha,” you said. “So you’re a car guy.”

“Kinda. I don’t know everything but I enjoy them. What about you, you like-JJ! Stay closer,” he called out when she kept walking ahead. “So do you like cars?”

“I guess so. This is kinda neat, walking around and looking at the old ones. They had more style back then,” you said, walking past a pair of guys your age, one of them looking you up and down as you went by. “Did that guy-”

“Yup,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder, throwing his arm over yours for a few moments. “Looks like he got the message.”

“Jensen,” you laughed. “I wasn’t offended. It’s not like he was gonna come up and ask for my number.”

“I don’t like the look of him,” he said.

“Neither did I,” you chuckled, Jensen dropping his arm from around you. “You’re that guy friend girls have that will do shit like pretend to be a boyfriend and all that stuff, aren’t you.”

“At your service,” he said with a mini curtesy. You giggled and he straightened up, JJ rushing over.

“Dad can I get an ice cream?” she asked.

“How about some apple slices,” he said, reaching under the stroller and grabbing a cooler. He pulled out a little baggie and handed it to her, JJ shrugging and walking ahead of the stroller again. “Shit, that probably means I can’t get ice cream now too.”

“We can always get some on the way home for later,” you said. “I won’t tell on you.”

“I’m putting this on your performance review,” he said. You shot him a side glance and he smirked. “I’m joking. I don’t want to do that as much as you don’t.”

“Thank you for that,” you said, stopping and looking at a red challenger for a moment.

“You like that one?” he asked.

“It’s nice,” you said before you started walking again. You fixed your hat and caught back up with him, Jensen slowing down as JJ took her time ahead of you. “So I should probably know this but what show were you in where you were driving around a muscle car?”

“You really haven’t looked me up online yet?” he chuckled. You shrugged and he laughed to himself.

“I may have peeked at your IMDB page but that was it. Was it that show you were on a long time? Super something?”

“Supernatural,” he said, a big smile on his face. “Yeah, I drove it for that.”

“Oh yeah, that was the really scary show, wasn’t it,” you said. 

“You’re too sweet,” he said, chuckling to himself. “It’s not that scary. I promise. Give it a try sometime. You might like it.”

“I’m sure someday I will. If I’m brave enough.”

“I think you are,” he said, JJ running up ahead again before he called for her to hang back. He sighed and threw his head back. “It never ends, does it?”

“I’m sure someday when she’s older you won’t have to worry so much.”

“I’m gonna worry about that kid when she’s forty years old,” he said.

“That’s cause you’re a good dad,” you said. 

“You haven’t known me that long,” he said.

“Do you love her? Worry about her?” you asked and he nodded. “Well any dad that does that and tells his kid that someday they’ll get to see their mom again to help her grieve when he well and truly doesn’t know the answer to that...you get the picture Ackles?”

“I could be better,” he said.

“Everyone could be better. They don’t need the best dad ever. They just need the best dad for them and you seem like you’re doing a good job of that from what I’ve seen so far,” you said. “You’re gonna screw up but so does everyone. Try to just enjoy it and not be too hard on yourself.”

“You’ve spent a lot of time with kids haven’t you,” he said.

“I’ve been in the mom role more than once as a nanny,” you said. You kicked at the dirt and shrugged. “It’s how I know the difference Jensen. You don’t need me or want me to be their mother. You just need help sometimes. That’s an important difference. Asking for help, especially when you don’t want it but need it, that’s a good dad move.”

He was quiet as he walked, stopping at a yellow mustang. He stared for a moment and swallowed. 

“Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot. Really.”

“Come on dad,” you said, walking away and up towards where JJ was. “Let’s go see if we can find one this one’s gonna be asking for on her sixteenth birthday.”

“Those three are finally down and out for the count,” said Jensen as he walked downstairs to catch you in the kitchen wiping up the pan from dinner. “Thanks for eating with us tonight.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you said, putting the pan away. He looked out the back window and bit his bottom lip. “Everything alright?”

“You’re not like, hanging out with us cause you think you have to right?” he asked.

“Trust me. If I didn’t want to, I’d be down in my room,” you said. “Besides, I’ve thought about it and you know what, why don’t you set me up with that friend of yours.”

“Really?” he asked, a little alarmed.

“Why not? The age thing doesn’t bother me at all. Unless you think it’d be a problem for him?”

“No, he doesn’t really care about that sort of thing. I think he’d prefer it’s just someone he clicked with, had a connection, you know?” he said.

“Perfect. Why don’t you set us up for next Saturday night then?” you asked.

“I need you to watch the kids next Saturday night. I have-”

“The gala. Sorry, I forgot. Um, just, I’m free whenever. You know my schedule so you can set something up and just let me know?” you said. He smiled and nodded. As you were starting to leave he grunted. “Yeah?”

“I have some friends coming over for a drink in a bit. Small backyard fire. Whiskey and smores. You’re welcome to join.”

“Jensen. You’re not asking because you feel like you have to right?”

“No, not at all. I like hanging out with you. I’m sure whatever you’re binging on TV will be there if we bore you too much,” he said.

“Alright. I’ll be out in half an hour or so. Just wanted to freshen up from the show earlier,” you said. You ducked back to your room, taking a quick shower and changing into some leggings and a flannel. By the time you were out you could hear a slight mumbling and walked downstairs, catching Jensen with some guys on the patio pouring some drinks.

“Hey,” said Jensen when you stepped out of the slider door. “Guys this is Y/N.”

“Ah we get to meet the world’s best nanny,” said the tallest one. “I’m Jared.”

“Rich.”

“Rob.”

“Hi!” said a redhead that slipped out of the door behind you. “I’m Ruth.”

“Y/N. Your hair is kinda amazing by the way,” you said.

“This is what happens when you invite the girls,” said Rich.

“Normally we just talk about Jared’s hair,” chuckled Jensen. You grabbed a chair and helped gather up some snacks to bring over to his firepit, Ruth hanging back to help you.

“Jensen said you live here with him and the munchkins?”

“Yeah. He works so much it makes things easier on him. Are you an actress?” you asked.

“We all are. Only Jared lives close by. The rest of us haven’t been down here since…” she said and you nodded. “I really am happy you’re here. It’s nice to see a smile on our boys face again.”

“He’s a great boss. He’s very kind. We’re becoming friends,” you said. “He’s trying to set me up with his friend actually.”

“Oh which one?”

“Dunno. He just said he’s 42, an actor and is single. Age stuff doesn’t bother me.”

“Rob is a bit older than myself. It really doesn’t matter in the slightest, especially when you’re a little older,” she said. “Jensen says you’re great with the kids.”

“They’re pretty easy going. Normally the parents are the hard part of my job but he’s been great. He really loves his kids,” you said.

“Yes he certainly does,” she said.

By the end of the night you found yourself really enjoying Jensen’s friends. It was clear they cared for him at more than a surface level, especially Jared. You’d heard Jensen speak to him on the phone a few times and call him his brother but it really was apparent they had a special bond that went beyond a typical friendship.

“I’ll catch you guys for brunch before you head home,” said Jensen, waving night to them all as you helped pick up. You were just about finished and heading back for your room when Jensen caught you in the kitchen. “You have fun tonight?”

“Yeah. Your friends are great,” you said, a small pair of footsteps coming down the stairs. You both turned and saw Zeppelin there with tears in his eyes.

“What’s wrong, honey?” asked Jensen as he walked over and squatted down.

“I had a bad dream and I want mommy but she’s gone,” he whined. Jensen instantly scooped him up and held onto him tight, kissing his head. “I want mommy.”

“I want mommy too, baby,” said Jensen quietly. You mouthed go and he nodded, taking Zeppelin upstairs while you finished cleaning up. 

You got up early the next morning and made a big batch of chocolate chip pancakes, plenty leftover for breakfast the next morning. Jensen padded over from the hall where you knew the home gym was, sweaty and tired but a smile came onto his face when he saw you.

“What’s all this,” he asked, getting a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Chocolate chip pancakes make everything better,” you said. He put a few on a plate for himself and sat down at the counter as you made up some more, stealing a few for yourself.

“These are delicious,” he said. You stored away some for when the kids got up, making up your own plate before you dug in. “Sorry about last night. I feel like I ruined the fun.”

“Not at all. He’s a toddler. I literally can’t imagine being in your position. I’d have fallen apart instantly,” you said.

“No you wouldn’t. You care about those kids,” he said. “You push on for them.”

“I know it’s not really my place to say so but-”

“Y/N. I’d prefer if you just talk to me like a friend, really,” he said.

“You made it sound like you were ready to try dating again. Last night you seemed kind of...maybe not so ready.”

“I’m ready. I will always miss her. I’ll always love her. But that doesn’t mean I can’t love anyone else ever again like that too, you know? I don’t believe there is a limit on how much love a person can give,” he said.

“Your wife was a very lucky woman,” you said.

“I was lucky. She was patient with me,” he chuckled. “You guys would have gotten along really well.”

“Can I offer a bit of advice?” you asked.

“What’s that?”

“Keep telling your kids about her, all throughout their lives. They’ll still get to know her that way, you know?” you said. “Tell your future girlfriend too. That’s how you’ll know if they’re a good one for you.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

“You’re a kind soul. I would expect your partner would be as well,” you said.

“I hope so. Mine kinda has a permanent handle with care warning label on it,” he chuckled.

“I don’t think so. Just need somebody that understands, not try to fix you. There’s nothing wrong with you in the first place,” you said, taking a bite of your pancake.

“Thanks, kiddo,” he said.

“You’re not that much older, bucko,” you chuckled.

“Nah, I’m keeping kiddo,” he laughed. “You good to watch the kids for a few hours around eleven?”

“Sounds good. Go have a mimosa with your friends for me,” you said.

“Will do, Y/N. Will do.”

______

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

[helliontherapscallion]

What is Real? (Adrenaline Junkie Part 4)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: PTSD, memory loss, swearing, angst, panic attack

Word count: 3,509

You opened your eyes to the dim sunlight pouring through your curtains. You tried to move your arms to push yourself up, but strangely your right arm felt incredibly stiff. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you looked down at it. Nothing was off about it, so why was it so stiff? It made no sense. 

With great difficulty, you slowly maneuvered your legs over the side of your bed. Everything felt incredibly stiff, especially your right wing, and your head felt like it was filled to the brim with cotton. Groaning, you heaved yourself off the bed into a standing position. You wobbled slightly on your feet, but you steadied yourself with your nightstand. What was with you today?

Hobbling out of your room with a steadying hand on the wall. You let your wings thump and drag across the ground behind you. You didn’t have the energy to hold them up and your right one felt very off. You should ask Philza to brew you a potion of healing and maybe ask him why you woke up like this. Were you in for a really bad molt?

Stumbling your way down the hallway and dragging your feet, you almost fell over a couple of times. The stairs were going to be a massive pain if you could barely walk down the hall. Your body lurched forward as your foot caught the edge of a rug. You yelped as the ground quickly met your face, your arms not cooperating when you tried to move them to catch yourself. 

Feeling a stabbing pain in your nose, you laid there for a little bit hearing the door next to you swing open. Without looking at him, your scratchy, muffled voice called out.

“Wilby, thank god you’re here. Can you help me up? My legs aren’t working today for whatever reason. I think I’m gonna molt soon.”

He gently pulled you up and wrapped his arms around you in a hug, smooshing your face into his shoulder. You pulled away slightly to look up at him. He was smiling widely at you and his face looked blotchy. Wilbur never cried in front of anyone, so naturally you were incredibly worried for your older brother.

“Wil, are you crying?”

He just pulled you into another tight hug. Hissing in discomfort, you felt him push on your sore muscles.

“Wil, as much as I love you, can you please let me go? Everything feels really sore.”

He pulled away again, giving you a little confused smile. “I’m so sorry, do you want me to take you downstairs? We can get Dad to make you a potion.”

You returned his smile. “I’d appreciate that. But can you carry me? I don’t wanna move anymore.”

“Of course.”

Chuckling, he turned around and crouched gesturing for you to get on his back. A few unsteady moments later, you were successfully on Wilbur’s back and started your much quicker journey downstairs. You rested your cheek on his back and hummed in content. You found comfort in hearing his heartbeat, even if it was beating faster than usual. 

Quickly reaching the couch, he gingerly put you down on it and made sure you didn’t lay on top of your wings. They sprawled behind you over the back of the couch. 

“Stay right here, I’m going to get Dad.”

He walked outside with large strides, leaving you by yourself in the living room. You closed your eyes and pondered why today was so strange. First, you couldn’t move this morning. Second, Wilbur, your collected older brother, was crying. Third, Philza was up and outside. Usually he’s basically unresponsive in the mornings. He would never be up and about this early. 

Opening your eyes when you heard hurried footsteps rushing toward you. Why’d you get déjà vu? Why did you feel so… so scared? Your panicked eyes landed on your dad running towards you with all your brothers following suit. You relaxed seeing your family. But why did they look at you with relief and tears in their eyes? Even Technoblade looked relieved. 

Philza landed on his knees next to the couch before placing a gentle hand on your cheek. His worried blue eyes scanned you and he stared at you with a gentle smile.

“...Hey hun, how are ya feelin’?”

“I’ve had better days. I just feel really stiff, I think I’m going to have a bad molt this year.”

Your brothers looked at each other with confusion. Tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, Philza crinkled his brows. “Hun, do you not remember what happened? You-”

Tommy interrupted, “You died. SOMETHING KILLED YOU AND YOU RESPAWNED. HOW DO YOU NOT REMEMBER THAT?”

Flinching back, you deadpanned. “Gremlin, I think I’d remember if I lost one of my lives. My entire body feels like shit, but I sure as hell didn’t die. That’s just absurd.”

Philza gently grabbed your wrist and pulled down your sleeve. Instead of the usual three red hearts that were etched into your skin, only two stared back at you. You stuttered as your brain processed what you saw. You... died? How? Why couldn’t you remember your own death? 

Your thoughts were interrupted as Philza spoke up. “You died, (y/n).”

“I… How?”

Philza pursed his lips together. “You were killed by The Warden. You were out mining.”

You looked at your hands. “Who’s The Warden?”

“It’s a mob that usually spawns in subterranean caves. We’re not exactly sure how you died, but… but you died down there, (y/n). You lost a life.”

You took in a shuddering breath. How could you be so damn careless? Were you falling back into your dangerous stunts phase? Did you get yourself killed? Why couldn’t you remember anything?

“Hun, do you want me to get you a potion for the stiffness?”

“...Yes please.” 

“Tommy, can you please go get them a potion of healing? WIlbur, can you get a glass of water for them?”

Without a word, Tommy and WIlbur ran out of the room, leaving you with Philza and Techno. The piglin hybrid wouldn’t even look at you. Philza ran a comforting hand through your hair as he waited for your brothers to return. 

When they came back, Wilbur helped prop you up so you could drink the potion and water. They soothed your scratchy throat and you felt your body fill up with warmth. It was always nice to drink a healing potion when you were hurt. Most of the stiffness and soreness that was previously rooted deep in your muscles was alleviated and you felt some of your nerves melt away. Now only your right wing was sore. You stretched, feeling a tugging sensation on the skin of your back around the base of your right wing. 

“That’s better. I think I’m going to go shower, I feel absolutely disgusting.”

Not giving your worried family any room to argue with you, you swung your legs over the side of the couch and shakily stood up. Philza tried to help steady you, but you wove him off. If you were weak enough to die, you thought, you needed to prove yourself to your family that you were strong. You needed to do things yourself. 

As you were shakily making your way up the stairs, Philza was following you, probably making sure you don’t kill yourself again. He was fussing over your wellbeing, you did just die and you were acting surprisingly calm about it.

“At least let me help you preen your wing.”

“Dad, I can preen my own wings. I’m 17.”

“I know hun. I just want to help you.”

“Dad. I can do it myself, I’ve been doing it alone since I was 10, and I don’t plan on stopping any time soon.”

Without giving him any more room to try to convince you, you closed the bathroom door in his face. You understood and appreciated that he was worried about you, but you needed to do things on your own if you were going to prove your strength to your family. You were angry that he thought you couldn’t do a simple thing by yourself. You could still hear him breathing from the other side of the door.

Peeling off your jacket, you ran your fingers along your left wing. The feathers were more out of place than usual, you must’ve gotten pretty fucked up by The Warden if they were this messy. After about 10 minutes of frustrated preening, you twisted your torso around slightly to reach for your other wing, but you couldn’t see anything. Why couldn’t you see anything? Your wings were large enough for you to completely wrap your body in them twice and then some, so it didn’t make sense to you. 

Turning around to face the wall across the bathroom mirror, you spread out your wings and craned your head around to look at your right wing. Your eyes were met with a featherless nub that matched your skin tone. An ugly, discolored scar covered the entirety of the right side of your back. Without warning, memories flashed in front of your eyes at rapid fire.

A monsterous being towered over you, standing completely still. You held your breath as it just stood there. It walked away so you started to walk away. Everything lit up as you started to run from the thing chasing you. Blood pounded in your ears as panic engulfed your entire being as you tried to fly away, but you were caught. It effortlessly swung you around as it screamed. You felt your wing rip from your body and you flew across the cave. You couldn’t breathe. What did you do to deserve this?

“../n).”

You reached around to feel your wing, but you only grabbed the bone sticking out of your body. You felt anguish as you realized that you just lost a limb. You watched it drag your wing into the depths of the cave, leaving you completely and utterly alone as you slowly died.

“...(y/n)..”

You were crying in pain as you felt everything that happened crash down on you all at once. You laid there for what felt like hours as you sobbed and dry heaved. You prayed to whatever god was above that you would be put out of your misery soon. You felt as your body slowly got colder and colder. You were drifting in and out of consciousness. You couldn’t breathe. Please, for the love of god, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it sto-

“(Y/N).”

You saw a hazy figure in front of you. You felt someone’s hands gripping your shoulders in a firm grasp, you thrashed about trying to get out of it’s grip. You saw the monster that took your wing from you. The thing that killed you. You threw your arms about blindly in a desperate attempt to land a hit to try and get it to let you go. The only reason it let you go in the cave was when your wing was torn off, was it going to take your arms too?

You felt a smack as your hand collided with what you guessed was its grotesque face. It yelped and jumped back, releasing its grip on you. Its yelp strangely sounded like your dad’s voice. Your mind was probably playing tricks on you, your dad wasn’t here. You needed to get out. You scrambled up to your feet and bolted. You weren’t going to get killed again, especially by that thing. 

“(Y/N)!”

How did it know your name? More importantly, how was it talking to you? You were probably still in the cave bleeding out as your delirious mind turned stone into the comforting walls of your home. You were probably imagining hearing your dad’s voice in a last chance to comfort yourself as you neared your impending doom. 

Running down the hall, you made your way to the stairs. You couldn’t jump over the banister, you would probably break your legs again without both of your wings. Your vision was tunneling as you only focused on how to get out and away from the monster. When you were halfway down the stairs, you saw Tommy sprinting up to you looking panicked. No one deserves to die in the way you did, especially not him. 

“Oh my god, Tommy we need to get you out of here, it’s coming for us.”

He grabbed your shoulders and bent over to look you in the eye, “(y/n), whatever you’re seeing is not real, you-”

“We need to go now!”

He was cut off as you grabbed his hand and drug him down the stairs. You could hear the thing coming closer. It started to come towards you and Tommy. You yanked him along with you as you reached the living room and sprinted towards the front door. You could taste the freedom. It tasted sweet. 

Right as you grasped the door handle, you felt Tommy wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back. What the fuck, did he want to die?

“Tommy, if you don’t let me go now, it’s gonna get us. Please, you don’t wanna die the way I did.”

He said nothing as he turned you around and blocked the doorway with his body. The monster turned the corner and entered your sights. You’d be damned if you let Tommy die. You were determined to protect him even if you ended up dying a second time. 

You puffed up your wing and shifted your body into a stance that you hoped was threatening. Pushing Tommy behind you and shielding him with your wing, you harshly glared at it.

“You fucking bastard, ya here for seconds? Was my wing not enough for you? Well, I’ve got bad news for ya, I won’t let you kill me again. I won’t let you near my brother.”

“(Y/n), it’s me,” it croaked out in your dad’s voice and started to slowly walk towards you, holding its arms up. Why wasn’t it shambling like it did in the cave? You felt more fear well up in your gut as you stepped back.

“You’ve got a lotta audacity to use my father’s voice against me. I’ll rip you to shreds if you step any closer to us. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU.”

It stepped back, it’s mouth impossibly frowning more as more drool pooled from its mouth. Tommy wrapped his arms around yours as he bound you to his chest. Thrashing, you desperately tried to get out of his hold.

“TOMMY WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? DO YOU WANT TO DIE? THAT THING IS RUTHLESS, IT WILL TEAR YOU APART LIMB BY LIMB JUST LIKE IT DID TO ME. DO YOU WANT THAT?”

He once again said nothing. You felt your hair on the top of your head start to dampen. You heard more footsteps running to you. Techno and Wilbur appeared behind the monster. They looked absolutely terrified. Were you going to watch your older brothers die?

Your chest heaved as you looked at them with wide eyes. “Tech, Wil please, for the love of god run while you still can. It’s in front of you.”

They glanced at each other before Wilbur grabbed the monster’s arm. You screamed in horror as it looked at him. To your confusion, Wilbur wasn’t grabbed. He just gently led the monster away into the kitchen.

“I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU TOUCH A SINGLE HAIR ON HIS HEAD, YOU’LL MEET A FATE WORSE THAN MINE. I WILL MAKE SURE YOU SUFFER MORE THAN I DID, YOU GODDAMNED FREAK.”

Your hoarse screaming was interrupted as Tommy squeezed you against his chest tighter. Techno slowly approached you, making sure that you saw his every move, and bent over to look you in the eye. Tommy’s arms tightened around you, scared that you were going to lash out at Technoblade.

“(Y/n), The Warden isn’t here. You’re home, you’re not in the cave. You’re safe.”

You studied his face. Was he even real? Was any of this real? He looked real. Then again, everything around you looked real.

“I… Tech, are-are you real? Is any of this real?”

Techno pulled you out of Tommy’s arms and pulled you into his own tight embrace. He pressed a hand on the back of your head and pushed your face into his shoulder, rocking you back and forth. Your forehead tickled where you felt the end of his braid brush against your skin. You started to sob into his chest.

“Tech, I was so scared. I… I thought I was gonna die again. Please don’t let me die.”

“The Warden isn’t here, (y/n). I’m real. The house is real. You are home. No one else is here besides Dad, Wilbur, Tommy, me, and you. You’re safe. We won’t let you die again.”

He repeated the same things over like a mantra. With each reassurance, you felt yourself calm down. Techno’s soothing, monotone voice gave you something that wasn’t too overstimulating to center your focus on. You cried until you didn’t have any tears left to cry. Even after you were done crying, Techno continued to rock you back and forth, caressing your hair on the crown of your head like he did when you were kids. 

The voices in his head have been screaming at him nonstop since he saw that they had lost a life earlier in the day. They were telling him that he was stupid for letting you go mining alone. That he was a failure for letting you die alone. He couldn’t hear his own thoughts. He could only attempt to comfort you while trying to ignore the voices.

Tommy stood stiff at the door watching you two. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do. His older sibling was always calm and collected. He’s never seen you react like that. He’s never seen you so terrified. You were always the one to comfort him, never the other way around. You were there to give him hugs when he scraped his knee as a child. You were there when he’d have nightmares. You always made sure that he was alright. He was truly stumped.

Meanwhile in the dining room, Philza sat at the head of the table staring blankly at his folded hands placed in his lap. Wilbur had pulled up a chair to sit next to him, rubbing his back in small circles. The two didn’t speak to each other. Instead, they were listening to your heartbreaking sobs as Techno’s deep voice rumbled lowly underneath your sobbing. 

Wilbur didn’t know how to comfort his dad. Hell, he didn’t know how to comfort himself. His little sibling just died, forgot about it, and remembered it in the span of six short hours. Your death must’ve been traumatizing if you were reliving it. He didn’t know how to comfort you, he always was the one, besides Philza, to comfort you when you were upset as a kid. He felt completely lost.

Philza remembered how he felt his heart drop when he heard you start to scream from the other side of the bathroom door. The instinct to comfort his child overpowered his rational thought as he opened the door. He found you curled in on yourself on the ground with your only wing tightly wrapped around you mid panic attack. He asked you multiple times if it was alright to touch you, but you never responded. You just kept your eyes screwed shut. He was crouched in front of you trying to get you out of your trance before he decided to put his hands on your shoulders. That made you finally open your eyes. He tried to give you a smile, but you started to flail your arms. He dodged the best he could, but your movements were too erratic and you ended up smacking him across the face.

He felt so scared for you when you ran away from him in a panic. He thought you were going to hurt yourself when you reached the stairs. He felt like someone tore his heart out and stomped on it when he realized that you were afraid of him. You saw him as your murderer. When you started to threaten him, he saw just how terrified you were of dying again. How terrified you were of him killing you. You didn’t react when tears started to slip down his cheeks. He didn’t care that you were threatening him, he cared that his own child was terrified of him.

At the moment, you were slowly fading out of consciousness in your brother's hold. You felt completely drained physically, emotionally, and mentally. You barely registered Techno picking you up and carrying you up the stairs to your room, laying you on your bed. He even covered your wing with your blanket.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added to the series taglist): @acecarddraws   @goldenstarofthunderclan  @ravennightingaleandavatempus @dirtydiavolo  @immadatmostthings  @hee-hee-haw  @jackalopedoodles  @m1lkmandan  @vanhakirja  @im-a-depressed-gay  @coolleviauchihadreamerlove  @questioning-sanity @bongwaterflavoredgatorade  @kakamiissad  @lifestylesleep  @speedymaximoff  @sun-shark-tooth  @camisascam  @yeiras-world  @jayistrash  

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART FOURTEEN

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: mentions of sexual content, feelings, cigarettes Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place.

Notes: HI EVERYONE! I’m sorry I’m so inconsistent lately. I promise that the next chaptered fic I write, I’ll only start posting it when I’m done writing it. I hope you like this chapter - its incredibly sappy because I’m on my period lol

As always, big thanks to my beta, @lantern-inthenight​ <3

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack​  @dharma-divine​

MASTERPOST

“Remind me again why you want to ride separately from your brother?” You looked pointedly over at Josh, who was smiling as he ran a soapy rag over the plate you’d just finished eating off of. 

“I already have to spend my whole winter break with my family, no need to rob myself of alone time with you,” he explained like it was obvious. 

A huff escaped your lips. You pushed away from where you had been leaning against the counter and wrapped your arms around his neck from behind. You laid your head in between his shoulder blades, feeling him turn to nuzzle his nose against your arm as it laid on his shoulder.  

“We spend so much time together - like every day - which I’m obviously grateful for,” you said, half-muffled by the material of his sweater. “But don’t you think it just makes more sense to carpool?” 

You couldn’t see his hands, but the movements you could feel told you he was wiping the extra water off of them before turning around and pressing your chests together. His lips lightly brushed your temple as he spoke. 

“You’re right,” he agreed, though you knew him well enough to know he wasn’t about to just relent. “It does make more sense - I just don’t want to.”

You let out a breath, frowning as you tried to figure out if you should say what you were thinking. After a moment of working up the courage, you cupped his jaw with your right hand, knowing full well that the sweet gesture would help him swallow the discomfort your words would cause. 

“Josh,” Your voice was low and quiet, but as you met his eyes, you chickened out. They were so honest, looking at you like your presence was the only thing keeping him grounded - like if you left, he’d just cease to exist. You made a mental note to have a talk with him about that at some point, but you decided it would have to be after you’d returned from Christmas break. 

“Hm?” You must have been contemplating too long, prompting his features into a look of concern. You couldn’t bear it. 

“Jake is going to ride with us,” you said decidedly. “I already told him he could.”

That was a bit of a lie - he had mentioned it a few days ago and you had said you’d run it by Josh, but you had just made up his mind for him.

He huffed a laugh as he rolled his eyes playfully at you. “Sounds like you’re already communicating better with my family than I have in months.”

“Well,” you started, giving him a pointed look - the kind you only give when you feel confident that you’re right. “I think that would mean communicating with them at all. Honestly, Josh, I know you-”

You were abruptly silenced as he placed his forefinger across your open lips, a half-smirk on his face. 

“It’s okay,” he assured simply. “He can ride with us.”

A smile spread across your face underneath his finger. “Good. Have you started packing?” Your words were muffled under his touch.

“Eh,” he replied with a noncommittal shrug, lowering his hand to brush his thumb across your chin. 

“Do you want help with that?” you inquired cheekily. “Because, you know, we leave in two days.” 

He appeared to consider it for a moment before nodding. “Actually, yeah, that sounds nice. You can sit on my bed and watch while I pack really inappropriate clothes for the occasion.”

You half-snorted out a laugh, rolling your eyes because you knew that’s the reaction he was aiming for. “How about I just pack for you?”

+++

For the first time since knowing him, you saw Jake Kiszka wearing a jacket. It was long and dramatic and nearly brushed the top of the snow as he made his way out to your car with a leather duffle bag in his left hand.

He opened the rear, passenger-side door and tossed his bag in next to yours and Josh’s before sliding in next to it. 

You greeted him cheerily, to which he shot you back a smile as a reply.

“You’re actually wearing a coat,” you noted as he pulled the seatbelt over his form and buckled in.

He hummed amusedly, reaching into his pocket and popping a stick of gum in his mouth. 

“I’ve found that he doesn’t usually dress like a slut to go home,” Josh replied instead as he turned a lighter around in his palm, absent of the task. 

“And if I didn’t wear a coat home, I’d never hear the end of it.” 

Josh nodded in agreement, and then you watched a shit-eating grin spread across his lips. “I’m kinda surprised Kate isn’t coming with us today, to be honest. Are you waiting until Easter just to make sure?”

You were busy pulling out onto the road, so you didn’t see it, but you could imagine Jake deeply rolling his eyes at the question. 

“I would bring Kate home - it would make me truly happy to physically see Mom die a little inside when she starts trying to talk about amphibious breeding cycles at length during dinner,” he mused, voice clear of any kind of sorrow. He finished simply and with a smile, “But she isn’t my girlfriend.”

“I don’t know, it seemed a little sus when I showed up at her house in the morning and you were already there, chillin’ with her dog,” you replied in a sing-song voice. 

“I wasn’t already there, I was still there.” You felt him place a hand on your shoulder, and slap his other one against Josh’s. “Not all of us have the luxury of just being able to pop down the hall.”

“Fair enough,” you relented, feeling your face flush warm. 

“Or the shower. Or the kitchen that one time,” Josh added unhelpfully, making your eyes immediately pop open. 

“Josh,” you scolded and quickly considered reaching over and slapping him, but decided it was unsafe to drive and strike a passenger at the same time. 

“No, this is good,” Jake assured through a smirk you could hear. “Let him get it all out before we get there.”

Josh snickered back, “You’re such a prick.”

+++

The Kiszka homestead was almost impossibly cozy. There was a basket of blankets by the big sofa (much nicer and fluffier than the blankets at your apartment, which had been flattened and matted to the point of complete defeat) and the furniture was centered around a glowing, stone fireplace. Josh’s mom had hugged him for a long moment upon your arrival - a gesture that made your throat feel tight as you watched her fingers flex in the material at the back of his shirt. 

She was sunny and kind to the point that you could clearly see Josh’s mannerisms reflected in hers, and the dinner she laid out on the dining room table seemed impossibly large to you, having come from a home with just three people in it. 

When she asked you how you liked Midwestern cooking, you gushed about it for - what was undeniably - too long. You’d never say, but you weren’t positive that part of it wasn’t just not having had a real home-cooked meal in months. 

You had come to decipher that Josh had told his family that you were just a roommate that didn’t have a place to go for winter break, but you were pretty sure you’d be able to tell the nature of your relationship if you were on the outside looking in - you seemed to be magnetically drawn to wherever Josh was these days. 

Everyone cleared out of the living room pretty quickly after dinner and conversation, and you finally got the chance to ask the question that had been on your mind all day. 

“Do I sleep out here?” 

You were posted up on the couch, your legs crossed one over the other with Josh staying a few inches farther away from you than you were used to.

“No,” he replied. “You can take my room and I’ll sleep out here.”

You had asked mostly as a formality - you hadn’t figured that you’d actually have to sleep separately. Through a slight frown, you said, “Oh, man. It’s been a while since I’ve had to sleep alone. What if I freeze to death?” 

He flashed you a smile. “I thought ahead and laid a heated blanket out on the bed for you.”

“Heated blanket? This whole time heated blankets were an option?” you whispered harshly.

“Okay, in my defense, by the time I remembered that they existed, we were already sleeping in the same bed every night.”

The suspicious way you stared at him for a few moments had him biting back a laugh - one of those unguarded ones that seemed to be reserved for people he was really comfortable around. Which seemed to just be you most of the time. 

“Will you at least come get ready for bed with me?” you asked, subtly looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Of course - no puppy eyes necessary,” he assured with a snicker.

This room was decidedly different than the one back in Ann Arbor. Josh’s space back in the apartment was mostly made up of Earth tones - either picked by choice or having just dulled over time. There were little pops of color scattered around the room, like the golden yellow rug that spread across almost all of the wooden floor, or the string of flags that spanned the entire wall above his bed. 

This room was different. You could tell that his parents had tried to clean it up since Josh had moved out, but there was still evidence of spots where posters were hung on the maroon red walls. A stack of comics laid on the dresser - the surface of which was covered in residue and paper where he had placed stickers and then tried to peel them off. 

You eyed a well-used keyboard placed along the far wall, and what appeared to be milk crates full of sheet music and the idea of him sitting in front of it and practicing for hours brought a smile to your lips. 

He hauled both of your bags up onto the bed and you both picked through them for the sleep apparel you’d packed. You watched him change into a short-sleeved tee and a pair of loose flannel pants through the bathroom mirror as you brushed your teeth across the hall, and when he caught your eyes, he gave you a smirk. 

You’d been half expecting him to change his mind and just crawl into bed with you, but instead, he helped you clamber under the covers and pulled the comforter up to your chest. 

“Wow, full service tuck-in and everything,” you teased, but quickly shut up when his thumb brushed over your lips. 

“Well,” he mused, voice low. “Not the full service.”

You gave him a sour grin as he backed up to the door and flicked the light off. 

“Good night, Joshua.”

+++

The next couple of days came and went easily. You were starting to get actually acquainted with his family - chatting with his mother and sister over morning coffee, and getting pinned between his brothers on the sofa while Christmas movies played in the background.

You really hadn’t realized how much you missed being around family until it hit you at dinner one night. You watched out of the corner of your eye as Josh unscrewed the lid on the salt under the lip of the table and then asked Sam if he wanted any. 

Josh was just about to slide it across the beat-up wooden surface when you snatched it out of his hand, pointedly tightened the lid, and then slid it over. 

When you peeked over at him, Josh was glaring at you, but he wasn’t able to stop the mischievous smirk that his mouth took the shape of. 

Sam huffed a laugh that sounded more like a scoff, having figured out the plot quickly after seeing the look on Josh’s face.  

“Samuel, do me a favor and dump the whole shaker of salt on your potatoes,” Josh requested in a faux-sweet voice. “Please and thank you.” 

“Piss off.” Sam’s reply came through a mouth-full of food, but somehow, he still managed to look lovely while saying it. However, that didn’t save him from his mom’s scolding look - though whether that was in response to the harsh language or speaking with a full mouth was anyone’s guess. You guessed that a person never got to grow out of being “the baby”. 

It was then - that simple moment - that you realized how oddly welcomed you felt in this setting. It hadn’t been awkward or uncomfortable even once. You’d never felt out of place despite how different it was from your own home experience. 

After you were settled into bed that night, you laid awake thinking about nothing and everything. You didn’t feel particularly tired, but you had decided to turn in when Josh started dozing off on the couch while you were watching the tv on low volume. 

You had no clue what time it was, as your phone was charging across the room, but at some point you heard the distinct sound of a door creaking open. It was just down the hall - that you could distinguish -  but you weren’t positive which room specifically. The person made their way down the hall, and then up a creaky set of steps, though you could tell that they were trying to move quietly when they got to the next floor and the cadence of their steps changed to something lighter. 

You thought about it for a moment before pushing the covers off of you, crawling out of the warmth of the nest you’d made, and slipping your feet into a pair of Josh’s fuzzy slippers that were just barely peeking out under the bed frame. Trying to be as quiet as the last person had been, you crept up the stairs in the low light, having to strain to see the steps in the unfamiliar space, lest you lose your footing. 

The room at the top of the steps was a study, and on the other side of it was a large, sliding glass door. And on the other side of that, was Jake, sat out on a covered patio with a cigarette in his hand. 

You crossed the room, grabbing a blanket off of the worn leather sofa and wrapping it around yourself as you moved. 

He barely turned his head to look at you as you slid the glass open and stepped out onto the porch. The brisk air hit you hard enough to nearly knock the breath from your lungs, so you pulled the blanket up your body until only your head was showing. 

“Sorry if I scared you.” The volume of your words were just above a whisper as you bent to sit next to him on the cold wood. “Or if I’m intruding.”

He hummed around his cigarette before ashing it into a Coke can. “You didn’t, and you aren’t.” He looked you over for the first time then and frowned deeply at you. “You are going to freeze to death though. Where the hell is your coat?”

“I’m fine, I’ve got the blanket, see?” you assured, though you had to admit that the cold cut right through the thick material. 

He ran his eyes up and down it, rolling them affectionately at you. “Okay,” he replied, though it sounded nothing like he believed you. After a few silent moments, he spoke again. 

“How are you liking it here?”

A genuine smile spread out over your lips. “Michigan is lovely, if that’s what you mean. Cold to the point where I’m not sure why anyone would want to live here, but. Lovely, all the same.” 

He smiled back at you, oddly warm in nature for him. “And what about the family? Do you find all of us lovely too?” 

“Absolutely,” you agreed, pulling your knees up to your chest like you were in a cocoon. Another few long moments ticked by as you watched the snow fall. The night was so still that you swore you could hear the flakes as they settled on whatever surface they happened to land on. 

“Can I ask you something?” You flicked your eyes over at him to assess his expression. You knew your brows were threaded close together in worry, which he seemed to take into account before he answered.

He nodded as he took another drag. “Sure,” he replied, smoke and steam glowing with the light of the cherry on the end of his cigarette as he exhaled. 

You were silently trying to figure out how to word it for long enough that he looked over at you expectantly. 

“Do you think Josh would have come home for Christmas if I...weren’t around?” 

He met your eyes and huffed a humorless laugh. “I think that he would have spent a week or two anxiously deciding whether he could handle it and then, ultimately, he would feel too guilty to say no. And from there, I think it would have been a repeat of last year - he would have come home here, found it exhausting, and then screened everyone's’ calls for a couple of months again.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you just stared at his face, your teeth pressed into your bottom lip until you could feel they’d left an indent as you ran your tongue over it. 

“But it’s weird, right?” he continued, biting back a smirk that made you a little uneasy about what he was going to say next. “He seems to be almost blissfully happy this year.”

You held your breath for a moment as you tried to organize your emotions, and then exhaled in a rush once it became uncomfortable. “Look, I. He’s obviously a lot of things to me. A best friend, a room mate, a...romantic partner?”

Jake shot you a disbelieving but highly amused look at your wording.

“But I’m worried that he’s tying himself to me too tightly.” With your eyes, you tried to portray the emotions that that thought evoked in you - how compressed it made you feel. 

He seemed to chew it over as he stubbed out his cigarette on the damp wood and then - near instantly - materialized another from behind his ear like a magic trick.  

“I love seeing him happy, but I’m scared that I’m the only thing making him happy,” you finished, voice admittedly a little shaky. You didn’t ask first - though you should have - but you slid closer to him until your shoulders were touching, and despite not knowing him all that well yet, it still managed to make you feel more grounded. “It’s not that I expect this to end - whatever we have - but what if it does?”

Jake’s eyes flitted around your features like he was trying to map your face as you anxiously waited for him to tell you everything would be alright. 

“You know,” he started, voice low. “When we moved away for school, he was the one that decided we wouldn’t room together. I mean, I didn’t blame him or anything, but I always just assumed we would. He used to be so outgoing. I mean, he never missed a party. People would trip over themselves to be next to him. He used to take his ex out any time he could - it didn’t really matter where, because he’s always had a way of making even the most monotonous task seem fun.”

You didn’t try to suppress a smile as it found your lips. 

“So, his ex broke it off with him. I don’t know what happened really - only what I’ve been able to pry out of him - but it fucked him up pretty good. And then as he was just starting to get over it, his roommate had some kind of mental break and just moved out one weekend while Josh was gone. It’s not like they were best friends or anything, but they got along.”

“Fuck,” you whispered, resting your head on Jake’s shoulder and not caring whether or not it was polite to do so anymore. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, simply. The tone of his voice was something very somber - the kind you’d use if you were giving a eulogy. “I tried to help. I offered to move in with him. I showed up at his apartment all the time, but he got pretty effective at dodging me. Not just me, actually, but everyone. Worried the fuck out of our mom.” 

“What then?” You were not-so-secretly hoping that Jake was going to find a way to make you feel better, and the pitch of your voice reflected it. The core of your body felt like it was stuffed full of stones, weighted and heavy. “What happened?”

Jake hummed. “Well, he started to level out a bit. After a good couple months he started at least answering the door when I came to see him. Sometimes he’d text me back after a day or two. That went on like that for a while.”

He titled his head to look over at you then for the first time in a while. You felt oddly vulnerable after hearing all of that, but you tried not to duck away from his eyes. 

“But then, suddenly, you were there. He didn’t tell me a thing about you, or even that he was getting a new roommate until well after you were already moved in.”

You huffed a laugh. “If it makes you feel better, he didn’t tell me anything about you either really. Imagine my surprise when I open the door and you were a twin. Uncanny valley territory.” 

“I think he learned how to compartmentalize the people in his life. Seems like it’s easier to manage relationships that way when you’re an extremely guarded person like he had suddenly become.”

He took a pause to take a long drag, simultaneously running a hand through his silky hair. 

“But to answer your question - I don’t think you’re the only thing making him happy,” he continued, meeting your eyes with an intensity that you understood to your core. “I think you’re just reminding him that there are things to be happy about.” 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, but you were suddenly choking back tears and a tight, hot feeling in your throat.  

“You’ve just got to give him time to remember what it’s like.”

When you opened your mouth to reply, you realized you’d been holding your breath for a moment too long, causing you to suck in a shaky breath. “I intend to give him all the time he needs,” you promised. 

Jake offered you back a smile as he moved to stand, stretching out his muscles and then extending a hand for you to take. He helped you clamber up off the floor before tucking his lighter back into the pocket of his fleece sleep-pants. 

“Good to hear.” 

[luimagines]

Coul I request the chain reacting to meeting the reader who is Wild's sibling? (If background is needed shrieks science and them whatever purchase did so the reader is just sorta- 15-28 )

Masterlist

I don't understand the second sentence but I think I can infer what you're trying to say. And even then, I came up with a backstory that more less fixes it regardless so yay!

Wild is everyone's favorite chaotic creative sibling!

And I went for older sibling because reasons and just assume that sibling! Reader is in their early twenties.

Content under the cut!

You woke up one day in Hateno village, quietly aware of the silence that echoed through your house.

You miss your brother.

Not that he was here often with his Goddess given assignment nor did he even know who you were for the first half of it.

What a day that was.

Your little brother back from the dead, scars and all and then some... but he had no idea who you were.

It hurt to say the least. But you were told it would happen once the news reached you. He would wake up one day to finish his duty but he would not remember anything regarding his past life.

Even when he found you again, after he somehow remembered you, you didn’t know where to begin.

You just knew that you were so happy to be together again after so long that you hugged him as tight as you could and told him that your door was always open.

To say you both cried is the understatement of the century. It was wet and ugly and messy and neither of you really talk about it but it felt good that day.

And while you both knew he couldn’t stay for long with his adventure being no where near complete. He did come home for the night after he set that travel medallion of his by the front door.

But that was then- before the Calamity was defeated.

Now that it’s gone- so is your brother. Again.

On a different quest this time, it seems.

You don’t understand why your baby brother of all people has to be the one to do it and you would like nothing more than to wrap him up in a blanket and shield him from anything else that comes to hurt him- but he never let you do that as a child- let alone now.

You begin the day like any other and try to get as many mundane chores done as you can before you finally try and get the stable in the back fixed up.

You noticed Link had an affinity to horses and had checked in with the nearest stable to see that he had some lodged under his name.

There’s a place at the house, darn it. Lodge them here. It just needs to be fixed.

With your goal in mind, you lose yourself to the work and the time passes effortlessly.

It’s around noon by the time you hear it.

The familiar sound of activation that gets your heart pounding in relief and unbridled joy.

You drop your hammer and run to the front of the house with the largest grin on your face. “You’re back, you Rug Rat! Come here!”

You single him out instantly amongst the group and tackle him in a hug.

He’s long stopped trying to fight on you on this and has also returned your crushing hug with one of his own. “I’m back.”

“You brought friends too.” You grin and give the group a two fingered salute. “And here I was afraid that this loner child would end up dead in a ditch somewhere and I would be none the wiser. Thank you for looking after my little brother. I’m aware he’s a handful.”

“Ok thanks.” He says.

“Little brother?” Someone from the group asks. They’re lost amongst the sea of head but you nod regardless.

“Yup. I remember the day he was born like it was yesterday.” You grin and put your hands on your hips, introducing yourself right after. “Any friend of Link’s is a friend of the family. Come in, come in. Make yourselves at home. It’s not much but it’s ours. Been in the family since before the calamity struck. Let me wash up a bit and then we can get some food going, yeah?”

“I’ll start up the stove.” Link says and you’re about to disagree. After all, he just got home and should rest while he can but he ahs the most unburdened smile on his face that you can’t bring yourself to deny him.

 “Alright.” You sigh and head to the back where the shower is. It’s always been small and a bit cramped and the door stopped fitting correctly about ten years ago but now that’s it’s not just you anymore, you can go around into the giving the house the TLC it deserves.

But you’re starting with the stable in the back.

When you’re finished and you’ve dried yourself off, you get into the house to find it in a delightful array of colors and chaos.

Each of the boys seemed to have made themselves completely at home in the time you were gone and you leaned against the door frame, watching them all interreact.

Your brother didn’t waste any time with getting the stove up and running. You can smell the beginning of lunch getting cooked and it appears that Link has wrangled two of the boys to be his helpers. One appears to be the youngest with bright wide eyes and a similar blue tunic to that of Links and the other looks to be  slightly more timid in the process. He’s around the same height as Link but darker hair and a long white cape still clasped around his shoulders. 

You recognize the Master Sword strapped to his back.

Making a note of that you look around the room again. Three of them have made themselves comfortable at the table. One is easily the biggest guy of the group, red and blue tattoos on his face and scar over his eye as he watches the others go about the admittedly small house. The other two look to be the same size and you’re sure you can look them in the eye if you needed to. They’re talking to both each other and the group that’s cooking. One has a wolf pelt on his shoulder with more tattoos on his face and other is a knight if you’ve ever seen one with a bright blue scarf around his neck.

You’re not one to judge your brother’s friends but you make a mental note to watch him in case he tries anything.

Two of the boys- one with pink hair and the other have the most solid brown mane of the whole group have made themselves spares and are talking quietly to each other and not making a fuss.

The final one looks to be the smallest but he’s got an older glint to his eye that recognize well. He’s wearing arguably the most color tunic of the group with those four patches sewn together. He’s tucked himself away into a corner with a book out, not interacting with either of them outright but he has been looking up and adding his two cents to the older’s conversation at the table.

They don’t notice you’re back which is a testament to how tired they all must be.

They’re an interesting bunch.

But Link did always surround himself with interesting people.

So you’re not really surprised.

“Sooo...” Pinky starts off, calling your bother’s attention. “You have an older sibling?”

“Yup!” He answers, not looking up from the pot. “They were waiting for me the whole time, and even manage to keep the house. Up keep still needs to be done but we’ve been working on it together.”

“But they’re older.”

“Yes. We’ve established this.”

You have to hold back your snort.

“You were asleep for one hundred years.” Four Patches speaks up, closing his book silently. ”Shouldn’t they... ummm...”

“Be dead?”

“Or at least really old?” Mr. Brunette hops in, trying to lessen the blow of the sentence.

“You’re like one hundred and seven teen right? Wouldn’t that put them at being one hundred and twenty something?” Wolf boy offers.

“I guess so. Yeah. They were old at some point.” Link stops stirring and you can see him try to run the numbers in his head. “I know that much. The village talks about them being really old sometimes, but I guess that was years ago because it’s only from the older folk that live here.”

“But they lived through those one hundred years, didn’t they?” Blue Baby Face speaks this time.

“That’s what they told me.”

“So....” The knight tilts his head and tries to put his hands out as if that would help answer the question. “They’re like the Old Man then? Old in their head but young on the outside.”

“You can say that, yeah.” You say and take extreme satisfaction at the way most of the jump at your voice. “Unlike Link, I was alive the whole time he was asleep. I’ve got grandkids in Lurelin and they visit from time to time but someone had to at least keep the house up and running, might as well have been me.”

“I...” Link starts as he takes the food off the burner. “I never asked you how you stayed young, did I?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.” He looks away and deflates a little. Link looks a little disappointed with himself and that won’t stand in this house.

“I didn’t realize it was that important. And I’m going to assume you’ve explained most of the situation Rug Rat.” You laugh a little with a raised eyebrow. “You can blame Purah. You know she wanted to find a way to keep the old from aging, right? It’s why she’s in the body of a little kid again. But when she tried the second formula she realized that if she tried it on herself that it might as well but poof her back into a baby and she wanted to contact Robbie but he’s too far and too old to make that trip. I volunteered.”

“Really?”

“It still didn’t really work, I was transformed into a teenager instead of a child- a horrible time to exist really. But I suppose it was a blessing in disguise. By the time this one-” You step into the house fully and ruffle Link’s hair. “-came back, it left us with the same age gap as before. So in the end I can’t complain.”

“Why’d you volunteer?” Cape guy leans on the wall. “There’s only so many times you can test it, right? Who’s to say it wouldn’t have been worse?”

“Yeah, what if it did transform you into a baby again and you forgot everything?” Four Patches stands up and comes to stand by the table, putting his book on top of it. 

“I wanted to take the risk.” you shrug and pull your brother into a hug. “Is it a crime to want to see my baby brother again not matter the cost?”

“Get off.” He whines.

You laugh but do as he asks. “It was never said when he’d be back. Only that he would. I was willing to buy as much time as needed to be there for him.”

“I didn’t remember you...” He mutters to himself.

“You now, don’t you?” You punch him gently. “We’ve talked about this. It’s ok. I knew it was going to happen. It wasn’t going to stop me. Ganon himself couldn’t properly get rid of me. I’m not leaving your side anytime soon.”

He smiles and turns to hug you.

“Now where’s your wolf friend?” You ask. “Are you still traveling together? There’s something I wanted to give him.”

Wolf Pelt shimmies in his seat for a second but you don’t think much of it.

Link shakes his head. “Not right now but he has been coming by every now and then.”

“Well it’s good he’s still around to look after you then in my stead.”

“We have a horse though.” Link tilts his head up to grin at you. “It’s not the same but her name is Epona.”

Familiarity stabs you in the heart and you know it’s something that Link even remember even if he lives another one hundred years.

He was too little when she passed.

“...Like dad’s old horse. Can I see her?” You say with a light constriction in your throat. “How crazy would it be if they looked alike?”

“Dad had a horse?”

“You wouldn’t remember her, you were too little. I barely remember her as it is but yes, he did.” You take a step back and motion back towards the door. “Maybe after lunch you show me. We can bring her to the back and measure up how the stable is. I’ve been fixing it up.”

“Really!?” Link blinks, an excited glint appearing in his eyes.

“Yes. That’s what I was doing when you first came in. But let’s eat first.” You put your hand to the small of his back and push him gently in the direction of the table. “And then you can tell me about your friends and this new adventure of yours.”