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#suffered a big injury that took off years of life + hard work i put in bettering myself and set me back on many skills i used to know which
scorchedhearth · 2 years
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trying to find canon stories or fanwork that touches upon guy's TBI is like walking through a baren wasteland. most barely acknowledge it, and when they do it's just a one-liner or for a joke which. You Know.
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itsallmightbitch · 3 years
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Hell Week
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Where have I been you ask? Recovering from the moment I found out that All Might’s middle finger is 6.2 inches long- that’s where. Jesus Lord I haven’t stopped sweating since.
Pairing: All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Reader
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Choking, Daddy kink, slight Praise kink and semi-public sex. Minors- even though I can’t make you not interact- I can come to your house and tell your mother and I want you to picture how that interaction would go down. I’ll show her your browser history I swear to God-
Word Count: 11,000+ 
Summary: Exam season had finally rolled around at U.A. and had been lovingly dubbed Hell Week by every long suffering member of staff there. All Might didn’t think it would be that bad- until it starts to get in the way of him doing one of his favourite activities. 
Namely you.
*as always, the gif isn’t mine but is oddly appropriate for the story O_O
-
You hated Hell Week but then... so did everyone.
 Those were the first thoughts you had when you stepped into the lecture hall on a sunny Monday morning. Desks upon desks, lined in neat rows, filled the room from front to back- each one with it’s own face down paper on top.
 It was exam season. It was exactly like flu season but with far more suffering.
 There was however, one very faint light at the end of the tunnel and it was the only reason you weren’t hopping a plane to some far away country and hiding there until this was all over. All Might, the big lovable dork, had zero idea of what was about to hit him. He’d only been teaching at UA for just under a year- missing the last exam season but just in time for this one.
 He’d been fucking you just a little bit longer than that but in all the time you’d been seeing him, you’d never brought up just how horrible it was.
 By the time you made it across the room, the door was opening again and sure enough, All Might ducked under the doorway to the lecture hall looking far more put together than he had when you’d left him that morning. You hadn’t had the heart to wake him as he’d sprawled out across your bed- his skinny frame taking up just as much room as his muscular one did.
 He was such a bed hog, you thought, a smile tugging at your lips.
 Looking far too cheerful for this time of the morning- and clearly oblivious about what was to come- he slipped through the desks and headed straight for you. Even though his eagerness to see you made your heart thump harder in your chest, you couldn’t stop the snort of laughter that escaped either.
 He was simply awful at hiding your relationship. The only reason you hadn’t been outed to the whole school yet was because you were a little more restrained than he was. 
Well... that and you told Hizashi to stop fucking prying into your business with such heat in your voice that anyone within earshot had decided to comply too and had left you both alone.
 Still, the fact that Toshinori couldn’t seem to help himself, couldn’t stop himself being near you all the time… it brought to life the butterflies that had made a permanent home in your stomach. So much for it being just sex.
 That had gone out of the window long ago.
 “Good morning,” he rumbled, finally next to you and you grinned up at him affectionately. His tie was crooked- the only indication that he’d woken up a little too late for comfort and slept through the alarm you’d set before you’d left for work. Glancing around, you found that you were alone with him and so you reached up, straightening the knot and smoothing the material flat against his solid chest.
 “Hi,” you answered at long last and it was the only thing you had time to say before his lips found yours for a kiss.
 You melted into it. There hadn’t really been much time for kisses lately. Between hero work and exam week prep, you’d both been exhausted and the only reason he’d even stayed over the night before was because he’d graciously offered to help you mark homework and lighten the load. You’d fallen into bed and slept deeply without even a thought of doing anything else- which was admittedly unusual for you both. Despite long work days and how tired his injury made him, Toshinori was insatiable when it came to you.
 Not that you were bragging or anything but… well. Look at him. You were goddamn blessed.
 “I missed you this morning,” he said, pulling back and looking down at you with those deep, pretty eyes of his. A shiver of lust made it’s way through you and you were suddenly sorry you hadn’t gone through with your plan to wake him up before you’d left. He’d just looked so damn sweet with his face buried in your pillow, snoring softly, that you’d decided to leave him be.
 You graced him with a winning smile.
 “Didn’t want to disturb you,” you said, glancing towards the double doors at the back of the room. You could hear footsteps approaching and you knew he could too, by the way his eyes followed your line of sight seconds later. “You looked like you needed the sleep, baby.”
 He flashed you a grin, his eyebrows raising in an expression you knew all too well. All Might was horny and he wasn’t afraid to let you know about it- despite the sounds of other people getting ever closer. Arousal made your stomach dip low and you shivered involuntarily.
 A big, warm hand curled around your waist and you were suddenly tugged closer until you were plastered against him, your hands pressing flat on his hard chest.
 Oh yeah, you thought smugly. 
This man was hot for you and your eyes mindlessly followed the path his tongue took over his teeth, coming to a stop on the point of his canine. The hand that was on your waist slid lower, to the small of your back and then across the curve of your ass until his fingers slipped ever so lightly to press between your legs.
 The noise you made was highly inappropriate for the workplace but fuck, when he acted like this it drove you to the point of losing any inhibitions you would normally have.
 “I’ll make it up to you tonight, sweetheart,” he said, his voice lowering to that timbre that had talked you into doing absolutely unspeakable things with only a few, encouraging words. “As many times as you want, for as long as you want.”
 You bit your lip, a grin threatening to break through.
 “Oh Toshi,” you cooed, patting his chest sympathetically. He was absolutely oblivious to the horror that was about to hit him square in the face.
 The doors at the top of the auditorium slammed open with a metallic thunk and within seconds you had escaped his grasp to stand at an appropriate distance, laughing inwardly at his puppy dog head tilt. His thick eyebrow quirked in question and you shot him one last pitying look. “You have no idea what you’re in for this week, do you?”
 You almost felt guilty for not elaborating and you had no doubt that he’d get revenge on you in some way, shape or form in the coming months. But for now you left it vague- left him looking confused but unable to question you as Aizawa and Nemuri approached with a line of sullen looking teenagers behind them.
 He wouldn’t have the time or energy to breathe this week, let alone do anything remotely athletic in the bedroom.
 It wasn’t called Hell Week for nothing.
 -
 It was Wednesday. You were tantalizingly close to the end of the week but also far too far away from it.
 Brushing against Toshinori while you passed each other in the aisle- supposedly observing the students as they scribbled away- was the most action either of you had gotten for days now. You didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose exactly, but the big jerk made it a point to touch you every time. Brushing his hand against yours. A palm on the small of your back as he gave way and let you through- so gentlemanly to any observer but the tension in his touch was a dead giveaway.
 The way his eyes darkened and he exhaled impatiently through his nose, almost as though if he opened his mouth he would say something entirely inappropriate. He wasn’t being chivalrous in his head in the least.
 He was thinking about fucking you and hard.
 It eventually got to the point that you couldn’t resist. 
Teasing him was just in your nature and every little innocent touch as your bodies passed so close was driving you insane. So as you passed him by at the back of the room, as far away from prying ears as possible, you whispered-
 “I’m so fucking wet for you right now.”
 - so softly that it could have been nothing at all. He heard you just fine though and you felt his whole body tense like he was being electrocuted.
 You carried on, grinning to yourself smugly as you did and all the while Toshinori stood like a statue- eyes wide and lips parted like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard come out of your mouth. He glanced back at your retreating form, his tongue pressing hard against the inside of his cheek.
 Oh yeah, you had royally pissed him off.
 And turned him on.
 Terribly proud of yourself, you went back to being an excellent teacher and leaned over to help an impatient Bakugo- who had run out of paper for his final question and by the looks of it, fucks to give too. Honestly, same. 
It took a couple of minutes for you to grab some extra paper at the front of the room and reassure the kid that his answer was on the right track, as vaguely as possible of course- so by the time you were about to make another pass of your boyfriend, you’d almost forgotten what you had said the last time.
 He clearly hadn’t.
 “Phone.”
 That was all he said as he passed you, his lips quirking at the corner and by the time you were at the front of the room with your back away from prying eyes, you were itching to know what he’d meant by that.
 You hadn’t felt your phone buzz in your pocket- although you had been distracted up until now and it was likely it had gone off without you noticing. Although you also hadn’t seen Toshi with his phone out either, unless he was being extra sneaky. 
Which at this point, you wouldn’t put past him.
 Sure enough, there it was on your screen. A message notification from ‘The Big Guy’. You smiled and despite your better judgement, you opened it in front of fifty or so quiet, focused students. After all, what could it possibly be other than maybe a little dirty response to what you’d whispered to him earlier?
 When your joined chat opened at last, the noise you made wasn’t human. It caught in your throat and when a few of the kids looked up in confusion, you had to pass it off as a cough before they began to ask questions.
Questions like, why are you turning that shade of red? Or, why did you just make a noise like a dying swan?
 All Might, that lovable, sweet, smiling number one hero, was leering at you from the back of the room- his grin absolutely filthy.
 When you were satisfied that the kids were focused on their exams again, you stared at the picture he’d sent you, face flushing hot.
 When the fuck had he even taken this?
 The photo was taken from a very low angle, his expression in the background much like the one he was wearing right now as he watched you- except his cheeks were a little pinker. He was wearing his hero costume, reclining on what looked like the bed in his apartment with one hand gripping the headboard behind his head.
 The picture of relaxation and innocence.
 Except his outfit was splayed open and his cock was jutting out from it proudly. You could see the fucking precum beading on the head, all shiny in the low light and you were practically drooling over your phone when it buzzed again.
 “Shit-” you hissed, jumping and almost dropping it. That would have been sensational. A picture of All Might’s cock sailing majestically across the floor for all the students to see.
 You hurriedly scrolled down to read what he’d messaged you.
 ‘You looked a little flustered. Everything okay?’
 The bastard had even attached a winking emoji to the end of the text and you were both pissed off that he’d gotten the better of you and impressed that he’d taken such a fucking great nude. Then had the courage to send it to you, whereas months ago he would have chickened out and complained about you seeing the scar across his side.
With embarrassingly shaky fingers you managed to type out a reply, not even able to stay mad.
 ‘Baby, no lie. You should wear every outfit like that’, you responded, chewing on your bottom lip in a vain attempt to keep the smile off your face. ‘Crime would drop to an all time fucking low’.
 Carrying on your route again, you watched him from your peripheral as he innocently took his phone out to read your response, so nonchalant and cocky.
 After a moment of reading, he barked a loud laugh that turned a few heads, before turning pink and muttering an apology to the students he’d just disturbed.
You nudged him playfully the next time you passed each other, winking at him and then feeling incredibly pleased with yourself when he grinned and shook his head- clearly enjoying the moment that had passed between you in full view of everyone.
 But, despite the thrumming sexual tension that crackled between you both for the rest of the day, by the time you got home there was only half an hour in which to change into your hero outfits and stare longingly at each other before going your separate ways for the evening.
 You were taking a fucking vacation this time next year and Nezu, the little sociopath, could pry your holiday hours from your cold, dead hands.
-
 “On your knees. Now.”
 Caught by surprise, you spun around in what you had thought was the empty auditorium- only to come face to chest with your very tall, very haggard looking boyfriend.
 “Huh?” you said stupidly, because the request wasn’t quite what you’d been expecting him to say. Not that you’d expected anyone at all to still be wandering around when the weekend and sweet, sweet freedom was calling.
 It was Friday and the last exam of Hell Week had finished an hour ago- a moment you’d both been looking forward to since the first set of exams had started. In fact, the way the other teachers had all but sprinted past the kids on the way out- you guessed that you and Toshi weren’t the only ones who had been willing this week to end.
 Toshinori had quickly figured out that he was not in for an easy work week as he’d first thought and the mounting pressure of grading papers, comforting stressed teenagers at all hours of the day and attempting to not have a breakdown had taken it’s toll.
 Every night, you’d both crawled into bed at some ungodly hour after midnight, exhausted from grading and the ever persistent hero work that took up a good chunk of your evenings. On top of all that, you knew Toshinori was still sneaking off every lunch time to get in a training session with Midoriya- and not eating anything the entire time either.
 You’d begun to sneak Midoriya lunches to share with his mentor just to make sure your boyfriend was at least getting something through the day and not neglecting himself as he always did.
 Then, you’d been over compensating with dinner and as a result had even less time to do anything remotely relating to a relationship.
 The only time the two of you had been close this week was when you woke up extra early for cuddles and even they couldn’t last long when the alarm would start to blare.
 All that and the pent up sexual tension meant that when Toshi told you to get on your knees with that ravenous look in his eye, your panties were soaking in seconds. However, there was still a little, itty bitty part of you with some common sense left at least and you glanced around the room before giving him a pointed look.
 “Babe, I know this week has been rough but is this really a good idea? What if someone comes?”
 You heard it the moment it left your lips and when you looked at his expression it was full of barely repressed mirth, his shoulders already shaking. He could be so immature sometimes. You rolled your eyes, despite your own smile spreading on your face.
 “Shut up, you know what I mean.”
 “You think anyone, student or teacher is going to want to look at this room again before Monday? The only reason I’m still in it is because all I’ve been thinking about, all day, is you sucking my cock sweetheart. I don’t think I can wait until we get home,” he rumbled in that deep, sexy baritone that he brought out whenever he wanted something from you.
 The one you found it impossible to say no to.
 His fingers trailed over your cheek and he took the moment of weakness in your resolve to swoop down and kiss you hard.
 You’d barely even had a moment to kiss this week and so the second his mouth was on yours, common sense was tied up and gagged. Horny you was now in charge and fuck, your boyfriend was looking fine today.
 It took no more persuasion for you to drop to your knees in front of him and when you looked up at him, impossibly tall as he was, his cheeks were pink and his eyes dark. He probably thought it would have taken a lot more persuasion than that but what could you say?
 Getting dicked down in the school was on your bucket list anyway and right now you imagined that it was hastily being added to his as well.
 “If anyone catches us, I’m leaving the country,” you muttered, taking another cursory glance around. This position was incriminating enough should someone walk in- and you weren’t even doing anything yet. Imagine the scandal if someone caught you blowing All Might- paragon of virtue and strength- in the middle of your workplace.
It was almost enough to make you stand back up again and put a stop to the whole thing but then he went and palmed the very obvious erection that was straining against the front of his pants and all you could suddenly think about was licking him from top to bottom.
 “I won’t let anyone catch us,” he said reassuringly. He pointed to his ear as though you’d forgotten about the whole, excellent hearing thing. You snorted.
 “Toshi, no offence but when we’re in the middle of sex a bomb could go off under the bed and you wouldn’t hear it.”
 He looked momentarily offended before his expression dropped into a sheepish smile, one big hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He knew you were right. Once he got into the zone there was no stopping him. It was kind of sweet, how intense he became. Even if you weren’t playing a game and just having some nice, lazy vanilla sex, he would get all possessive and serious and pull you in close to gaze into your eyes like it was the end of the world-
 You only realized you had spaced out when he spoke again and you snapped back to reality with a rising flush on your face.
 “Heh, I guess you’re right. But I promise, I won’t let anyone sneak up on us. You can count on me,” he beamed down at you and that promise alone was enough to make you relax and nod your consent.
 His tongue swept over his bottom lip as the air in the room suddenly shifted, turning electric and leaving you both buzzing with the knowledge that you were about to do something very naughty.
 Finding out that Toshinori was as kinky as you had been a bit of a shock at first. You’d expected him to be a the kind of guy who was insanely careful with his strength and as a result, gentle in bed. The sort of man who would whisper sweet words of encouragement to you and treat you like a princess the whole time.
 While there were times he did just that, imagine your surprise one night when he’d grabbed the back of your neck and told you to be a good girl and suck his dick. Ever since then, it had been one wild ride with you never quite knowing what he was going to do next.
 Afterwards, he’d quite shyly admitted that he’d never been entirely comfortable with letting anyone see that side of him.
 So he’d kept it hidden just in case.
 You nuzzled your nose against the straining bulge at the front of his pants, whining for him. Toshinori quirked an eyebrow at you, petting your head lazily.
 “Look at you,” he murmured, sounding undone already. “You’re always so eager for Daddy’s cock, huh?”
 It was no secret that it ruined you when he said things like that. Sweet, lovable All Might had an absolutely filthy mouth in bed and it turned you on every time he brought it out. His thick fingers trailed down your cheek, while his other hand slipped his loose tie from his neck with a snap.
 “You know, everything you do turns me on,” he mused, his head cocked to one side as he stared down at you. His voice was like butter and you felt your thighs quiver. “It’s almost as though you know what you’re doing. Do you enjoy it? Knowing that all you have to do is look at me and I’m hard as a rock in seconds?”
 You nodded, a little too eagerly.
 “What are you gonna do about it, Daddy?” you breathed, excitedly. Because you already knew what he was going to do. A muscle in his jaw ticked
This week had royally sucked and there was only one thing that was going to improve it. His mouth quirked at the corner despite the stern demeanour he was aiming for. That mouth had done some damn fine things to you in the past and you didn’t doubt that it would keep going in the future.
A pleasant feeling of wetness spread slowly but steadily between your legs. 
Your lips parted, soft puffs of breath warming the front of his pants. His cock was so close and you wanted it, wanted to take him into your mouth and give him a front row seat to just how much you enjoyed sucking him off.
In public no less.
“Hang on, sweetheart,” he soothed, noticing how impatient you were.
Suddenly, the soft silken material of his tie was being wrapped around your throat and knotted. He twisted the other end and wound it around his fist, giving an experimental tug. 
When it tightened ever so slightly, you moaned. It was nowhere near tight enough yet but you could already imagine it digging in and making you choke. Fuck, being choked- controlled like this shouldn’t have sent sparks dashing across every nerve ending- but it did and you tugged back to tighten it a little bit more.
“Better?” he asked and you nodded eagerly, dying to get on with things. The material around your throat was just tight enough to remind you who was in control here and you looked up at him through your eyelashes, pressing an open mouthed kiss against the outline of his cock. 
He grunted, pleased.
“Okay, you know the rules sweetheart. Red if you want to stop. Yellow if you need a second to breathe. Green if everything is fine. What’s our safe word?”
“Toshi,” you breathed, exasperated but not overly so. “I know the safe word. We’re on a time limit here baby.”
“Humour me,” was his firm, no nonsense answer and he gave you a look that meant he wasn’t messing around. He wanted to be sure that you knew it. 
You nodded. You were both experienced enough now that he didn’t really need to repeat the rules every time but it was sweet that he did anyway. Usually he would go above and beyond to make sure you were comfortable when you played like this and despite being on something of a time limit, now was no exception.
It was also just one of the many reasons that the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing had never worked out between you two. He was just too damn good to you. 
Any limits you had tried to impose between each other had quickly dissolved until you were both forced to admit that you wanted more than just sex. Not that you were complaining at all.
A quick, forceful tug on your makeshift leash brought you back to reality and you finally laughed, “Okay, okay! Watermelon.”
It only took a little guffaw on his part to trigger more of your own dumb laughter.
You both giggled to yourselves at the absurdity behind that word- a shared story of absolute shame, embarrassment and too much tequila that must never be told again. Why he’d insisted on it being your safe word you would never know but it was clear by now that you had trouble saying no to him.
He beamed down at you, all starry eyed and you were well aware that you expression mirrored his. Still smiling like a lovesick idiot, you nuzzled against him, nosing at the zipper of his slacks and making an impatient noise.
In a split second, his eyes darkened like he suddenly remembered where you both were. 
Auditorium.
U.A.
A very big possibility of getting caught doing something incredibly naughty. You sobered, partly because of the thrill of danger thrumming through your veins. Partly because the number one hero was staring down at you, tie in hand and looking like he wanted nothing more than to eat you whole.
“So,” he rumbled, voice like thunder in the sky, sounding miles away from his usual cheery self and more like a teacher about to dish out some serious punishment. “Are you going to keep me waiting? I’m getting impatient sweetheart.” 
No, you thought hazily, feeling your knees tremble and your clit throb in time with your racing heart. You would definitely have to do something about that. So you shook your head enthusiastically.
“Good girl,” he praised and you immediately felt a headrush, your fingers clenching tightly in the material of his slacks. “Now, take Daddy’s cock out for him,” he said and the words left no room for argument. Hah. Like you even would. Trailing your fingers across the front of his zipper, you were more than happy to do as he asked.
 You undid the button with shaking fingers and then down came the zip, bit by bit until you could push both sides wide apart. Dipping your hand into his now open pants, you felt his gaze boring into the top of your head- intense and heated as he watched you do as he said. At last, you wrapped your hand around the thick shaft of his cock and tugged him out. He hissed softly as it met the cool air of the room.
 All you could think was finally.
 He was just centimetres away from your face, all thick and solid- the tip leaking beads of precum that drooled down to where your fingers were on him. You wanted to lick them up, taste him on your tongue but you didn’t dare move because he hadn’t told you to yet.
 “Do you want something, sweetheart?” he asked and you felt sudden relief that this wasn’t about to go to waste.
 “Can I lick you? Please,” you managed to say through heavy breaths and a groan caught in his chest. He wasn’t exactly immune to dirty talk and he’d admitted to you once that hearing you talk like that made him hard. Honestly, you didn’t think he could get any harder.
 You could feel the thrum of his blood pumping, making his cock pulse in your hand.
 He gripped himself at the base and you let go, albeit reluctantly, when he tugged on his tie. Moving himself forward a little, he rubbed the head across your lips and you desperately wanted to open up and take him in but you refrained.
 “Mouth open. Tongue out,” he said, his voice strained and you obeyed.
 Red flushed across your cheeks when his gaze trailed over your face and he groaned, fist tightening around the tie in his hand. He rested the head of his cock on your tongue for just a moment, watching the precum continue to bead out- sliding down into your mouth now instead of being wasted.
 You made an impatient noise that, were you both at home with plenty of time, wouldn’t have gone unpunished- but time was of the essence here.
 Sort of.
 “Just admiring the view, princess,” he said after an agonizing moment of simply staying still. Wetness was spreading between your legs, warm and slick and the ache that accompanied it was intense. “You really do look amazing like that.”
 Toshi pressed further into your mouth, revelling in the hot wet heat that welcomed him.
 He was big and you had to relax your jaw a lot to take him inside but you were more than used to it- seeing as one of his favourite activities was watching you go down on him. He kept going until he was barely brushing the back of your throat and he gave himself a squeeze as though to keep himself in check.
 He let go then and trailed his thumb down, across your bottom lip and chin before pulling away completely.
 “Now suck me off,” he ordered, an edge of strain to his voice.
 You did just that, eager to please him. The tie tightened again around your neck- probably involuntarily as you went to town- but it still spurred a strangled moan out of you that vibrated through his cock.
 He grunted your name, his hips bucking. You could tell that he was restraining himself though, considering you hadn’t been thrown clean across the room.
 You hollowed your cheeks and dragged upwards, using the flat of your tongue on the underside of him.
 “That’s it sweetheart,” he moaned. “Just like that. You’re so good for Daddy. So hot,” he said mindlessly, a string of incoherent thoughts just spilling from his lips as he got lost in the pleasure of your mouth. You couldn’t help but feel a little proud that you could put him in this state just with a blowjob.
 “You’re perfect baby,” he sighed, his head dropping back to enjoy the feeling of the hot, wet suction on his cock. You traced a line along the vein that protruded from the length of him with the point of your tongue and saw his thigh muscles twitch hard. 
 Your body sang in response. It had taken you so long to bring him out of his shell at the beginning of your relationship and now here he was- getting sucked off in the middle of an auditorium, singing your praises out loud for anyone to hear.
From convincing him that your age difference didn’t bother you in the slightest, to coaxing him into being a little rougher in bed, it had been a long road, getting him to open up about his likes and dislikes. Getting him to put his trust in you. Making him believe that you wouldn’t laugh, wouldn’t judge him, wouldn’t walk away because he had a kink you didn’t like.
 But in the end, all of your kinks had actually aligned.
 Choking, domination, praise-
 The day you’d accidentally called him Daddy for the first time, though… Oh that had been something else.
 You had been riding him on the living room floor, setting an almost punishing pace that would leave you both spent for the rest of the day. Somehow, you had convinced him to keep the curtains open- the thought of getting caught thrilling you down to the bone even though he’d looked intimidated at the implication.
 Although he’d insisted that you be on top and had even smoothed down his hair to try and stay out of sight and that had made you giggle- the thought of the headlines the next day should you get caught.
 Breaking News! All Might’s Dick Just As Big As We’d Expected! Lucky Woman Found Unconscious At Scene!
 Your knees had been red and sore from the rug underneath you but you’d been so mindlessly set on coming that you’d barely noticed.
 His fingers were digging hard into your hips and the moment you’d started bouncing in his lap, his sense of privacy had gone and he was into it- encouraging you to roll your hips, pressing your tits together to push his face between them and spurring you onwards with an absolutely filthy monologue.
 You stood by the fact that it had not been your fault. Especially when he’d started with the whole, ‘you’re such a good girl’ shit. You had been close- so close and he’d been panting your praises and the damn words had slipped out without you meaning them to.
 A broken, stilted sob of-
 “Fu-uck yeah, harder Daddy!”
 You’d continued for another three seconds- full porn star mode activated- until you’d realized what you’d just said and all movement had ceased. Apart from the slow raising of your head to look him in the eye, deer in headlights meets startled rabbit, neither of you made a motion to continue.
 “Um… I- Sorry, it just slipped out,” you’d said sheepishly, body still thrumming from the thrill of saying it out loud and from the orgasm that had been tantalizingly close. He still hadn’t spoken, lips parted as though he wanted to try but was failing spectacularly. “It’s okay if you aren’t into it baby!” you had continued hastily. “If you want we can just forget about it-”
 “No!” he’d said, finally finding his voice at long last. His hips had snapped upwards, rattling your brain and driving his cock inside again with a new, energized rhythm. “No, no, no… Don’t be embarrassed. I liked it,” he’d rumbled, burying his face against your neck, pressing hot, desperate kisses to your skin. “You can say it again if you want.”
 Who the Hell were you to argue with All Might when he was asking you to do that?
 After that, the age difference, the scars he bore, the kinks you both shared- it all felt much more open. There was a newfound easiness to your relationship. You felt like you could share anything with him and vice versa and because of that, you swiftly discovered that Toshinori was kinky as Hell.
 And just as repressed.
 He didn’t dare share those parts of himself before because if they were ever repeated to newspapers or reporters, he would face inevitable ridicule from the general public because he was put on such an untouchable pedestal. It had greatly upset you that because of who he was and what he put on the line every day, he wasn’t allowed to be himself even in private.
But he’d never trusted anyone, he told you then, the way he trusted you.
 At the thought of him saying those words to you, you groaned, mouth full as you slid him inside as far as you could. His head snapped back up to stare at you, his lips parting and a throaty moan slipping out. You rolled back, bobbing your head in an easy rhythm and with each downwards stroke, you took him in further.
 Drool made him slick and shiny and easy to take, but you still had to grip his thigh for support the further you went. Once again, the tie around your throat tightened. It was just tight enough now to start making itself known- start to be worrying but the mere feel of it was making your clit throb painfully between your legs.
 You wanted more.
 You wanted him to choke you with it.
 Breathing through your nose now, you let your throat relax and finally took him in as far as you were physically capable. Your wish abruptly came true and the feeling of the head of his cock pressing down the back of your throat, coupled with the tightness of the tie, made you gag around him.
 Toshinori swore, loudly, half in pleasure and half in concern.
 But when he made to pull out of your mouth, the hand that had been gripping his thigh found his ass instead and you refused to let him go. You made a noise of protest and he stopped moving altogether, his stuttering hips trying desperately not to buck into you and make it any worse.
 You had to make a conscious effort to ignore your gag reflex, dropping your head forward to take him in again- albeit a little more carefully than before. Just before he could hit the back of your throat, you slowed down to a crawl, working him in further without making your body panic.
 The sensation wrenched a full body shiver from him, his breath heaving in his broad chest.
 “That’s my girl,” he praised fervently, his cheeks hot and the muscles in his abdomen fluttering and twitching. “You’re the best little cocksucker ever, aren’t you darling?” You absolutely would have answered if your mouth wasn’t currently occupied. His words were turning you on, making you desperate for an orgasm but your hands were far too busy on him to think about touching yourself.
 He would take care of you later, no doubt. So for now, you concentrated on bringing him to the edge.
 Now, usually you weren’t one to blow your own horn but in this case, you would openly and quite proudly admit that you had a knack for getting him off. Especially with your mouth. You’d never given a blowjob with quite as much enthusiasm as you did when it was with him and it was like he knew that.
 He was panting softly, his chest rising and falling above you and making the already straining buttons of his shirt even tauter as his muscles flexed.
 Such was your enjoyment of his reactions that the fact that you kept choking on the tip of his cock was only a mild inconvenience. He tasted hot and salty on your tongue, precum mixing thickly with your saliva and escaping from the corner of your mouth.
 He grit his teeth, a growl half mingled with a moan dragged from his throat at the sight.
 He caught it halfway down your chin with a swipe of his thumb and then tugged on the tie around your neck. Reluctantly, you released him- silently proud of the slick, dark pink throbbing mess that you’d left him in. Your jaw ached, yeah, but it wasn’t unbearable and it quickly eased now that he wasn’t in your mouth any more.
 You parted your lips in anticipation of his thumb- assuming he wasn’t going to let you waste anything.
 “Uh-uh, lips closed sweetheart.”
 You raised your eyebrows, amused at his hungry expression and did as he said. But not before biting your bottom lip, dragging your teeth over it to leave it redder than it had been. His shoulders dropped when he heaved a pleased, wanting sigh.
 “Absolute tease,” he murmured fondly, before smearing the come and saliva across your closed lips to make them shiny.
 Before he could move his hand away, your tongue darted out to catch him and he humoured you instead of giving you a warning tug on the tie. He pressed his thumb between your waiting lips- still sticky with precum and saliva and the groan that he released when you swirled your tongue around him was sinful.
 A full body tremor ran from your toes to your fingertips and he noticed- because this was All Might and he noticed everything. His lips tugged upwards in a devastatingly attractive smirk- the kind you would see on a villain’s face in the heat of battle. 
It was so unusual, but fuck did it look good on him.
 Your palms flattened on his muscular thighs, sliding upwards and drinking in the warmth radiating from him under your fingertips. More than anything you wanted to pull his pants down further- feel his skin under your hand but he was calling the shots and you didn’t dare. There was also the fact that if anyone were to walk in they would get an eyeful off his bare ass and no-one was allowed that privilege but you.
 He smoothed his fingers across your cheek, cupping your face in his massive hand and tilting your head up to look at him. Honestly, you must have looked like a disaster zone.
 Cheeks red with arousal, practically panting, lips parted in anticipation.
 That only seemed to turn him on more. His eyes flashed with lust and his tongue darted out and what you wouldn’t give right now to be able to read his mind. When he took his hand away to grip the base of his cock, you whined pathetically. You didn’t really know what you wanted though and right now you didn’t have the words to actually vocalize it either.
 Did you need to come? Absolutely.
 Did you also need to have his cock back in your mouth? Yes, with a capital Y.
 Not to mention the tie was going a little slack and you were beginning to miss the tightness around your throat. A thought quickly crossed your mind that made you clench your thighs, shivering under the pulse of arousal that washed over you. You wanted his hand around your throat instead.
 Toshinori cocked his head to the side, still stroking himself.
 You tugged on his pinstripe slacks and then pitched forward to press an open mouthed kiss against the shaft of his cock- sloppily almost missing and kissing his fingers too. You were shaking, trembling with the sweet ache and you desperately needed something to take the edge off.
 “Colour?” he asked, tugging you away gently by the tie.
 “Yellow,” you breathed, clit throbbing with tension that you couldn’t do anything about and your body tightly thrumming.
 He seemed genuinely surprised by your choice, though the silken material around your throat went slack almost immediately and he took a swift step away from you- giving you the space that you didn’t actually want. All you really wanted was an opportunity to talk openly.
 “Are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his tone as he took in your dishevelled state- as though he was seeing what he’d done to you clearly for the first time. “Is the tie too tight? Do you need some water or-”
 You waved him off with your hand, trying to catch your breath long enough to actually speak. Your throat was dry sure, but not for the reason he was thinking. Goddamn this man and the things he did to you- whether he meant them or not.
 “No- No Toshi,” you answered, breathlessly, chest heaving. “I’m fine, I just- Please, I want your hand instead of the tie.”
 The only indication that he was surprised by the request was a quirk of his eyebrows.
 “Oh,” he snorted softly, his cock bobbing back and forth with every movement he made. Your gaze zoned in on it, lips parting almost expectantly despite still being on a momentary time out. “You had me worried there for a second. I thought you weren’t enjoying yourself.”
 “You know me better than that, Toshi,” you admonished, tugging at his slacks again. When he didn’t move, a pleading whine caught in your throat.
 “M’ waiting sweetheart,” he sing-songed lightly and you shivered from head to toe as the game began again. The tie drew taught, almost too quickly as his excitement got the better of him. A strangled gasp cut off in the air as you looked up at him, wondering how he seemed so composed while you were basically reduced to pieces on the floor.
 “Please, Daddy,” you pouted, impatient but still willing to give him what he wanted.
 The words and the sight of you, basically begging on your knees, urged him into action and any further teasing he might have been considering was abandoned. You both needed to come, that much was clear and drawing it out any longer wasn’t helping either of you.
 Long, powerful fingers curled around your throat and your pussy throbbed as though an electric current had passed between you both. Granted, from the way he was staring at you as he ducked down to reach you, it might as well have.
 You were pliant and easily led, rising to your feet with the barest hint of a tug. You wrapped a hand over his wrist to steady yourself, thrilled when as usual, your fingers didn’t stand a chance of meeting around it.
 He squeezed and your legs quivered, a tremble wracking your thighs.
 His other hand had abandoned the tie now and instead swept up over your thigh as he walked you backwards. You hit the desk with a bump but Toshinori didn’t give you more than a second to get your bearings. He leaned past you and despite the mess you would have to clear up before you both went home, he swept one big arm across the surface of the desk to clear it for you.
 Everything scattered in a wide arc but you were much too busy lifting yourself up to sit on the edge, your boyfriend’s fingers tightening ever so slightly around your neck. His hand was so damn big that his fingers actually met around the circumference and knowing that did little to quell the heat in your belly.
 “Baby,” you muttered needily but Toshi was already sweeping forward to kiss you- all tongue and teeth and he really didn’t seem to care that you probably tasted of his own cock right now because the way his tongue pressed and licked at your own was almost obscene.
 You were, officially, a disaster zone of a human being.
 Toshi squeezed again and you broke away from his kiss with a choked moan of desperation. The week long drought had finally, finally broken you.
 “Please,” you whined. “Please, please, please-”
 He was already unbuttoning your jeans, thick fingers fumbling on the button and zipper until at last you batted his hand away and did it yourself, ignoring his chuckle at how eager you were. His cock jutted proudly from his open pants and his shirt had come untucked at some point that you couldn’t remember but it gave him a dishevelled, ‘just fucked’ look that was doing things to you.
 Not that there was much more to be done.
 The whole thing was reminding you of the picture he’d sent you two days ago and what you wouldn’t have given to have been there that time too.
 He let go of your neck briefly to help you out of your jeans and panties, stripping you from the waist down.
 A moment later and his hands went in two different directions.
 One cupped between your legs, forcing them apart as he dipped his two middle fingers between the lips of your pussy. A breath caught in his chest. You had been soaking wet ever since he’d told you to get on your knees for fuck’s sake. The other hand, to your relief, went right back where you wanted it to be.
 He pressed you backwards on the now empty desk until your back level with the surface and you were staring up at the ceiling. You were almost vibrating in anticipation, hitching your knees up to rest on his hips and locking your ankles at the small of his back.
 Toshi hovered over you, all solid muscle and wolfish grin and you almost leaned up for a kiss before remembering that doing so would lead to you choking under his hand. You hadn’t had sex with him in this muscular form for a while now and sometimes you forgot just how fucking strong his grip was.
 Instead, you rolled your lower body upwards to encourage him to move and in doing so, accidentally rubbed yourself on his fingers.
 The sudden jolt of pressure against your clit went straight to your head and much to your utter shame, you mewled like a goddamn kitten. You made a fucking noise that sounded so pathetic it almost made you throw your hands up and put a stop to the whole thing.
 He was staring at you, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.
 “Not a word!” you warned, game forgotten for a moment- along with any urgency you might have had over being in public like this. “We are never, ever speaking of that again,” you muttered, face flushed with mortification when he opened his mouth to speak. “If I ever make a noise like that again, I want you to throw me into the sun- Oh fuck!”
 Toshinori, was now beaming from ear to ear, smug that he’d drawn it out of you.
 He very clearly disagreed with the verdict you’d given and once again, he dragged the pads of his thick fingers upwards to circle your clit lazily- and anything else that was about to come out of your mouth morphed into a pleased moan.
 “Ah, ah, ah, kitten,” he said and you scowled at him despite the throbbing, delicious pleasure he was currently providing you. You supposed that the flush on your face and the little pants you were letting out did nothing to make you seem intimidating. “I think that that was one of my favourite noises ever. Think I can make you make it again?” he asked, nuzzling between your breasts and your hardened nipples tingled against the fabric of your bra.
 “You’d better fucking not-” you tried to say.
 But all of a sudden, Toshi’s hand tightened around your throat and you gasped as he loomed over you. His fingers began to move in tight, fast little circles- the kind he would use when he wanted you to come quickly and you could already feel the building tension in your thighs and stomach as he glanced between you both to see what he was doing.
 He licked his lips and breathed out an appreciative sigh at the sight, squeezing your throat again.
 “Listen to Daddy, kitten,” he repeated, all no nonsense because apparently the game had begun again and hooray for you because you were absolutely about to win. “Because that wasn’t a request. Now, what do we say?” he asked and then dipped his fingers low and inside you, making the words you’d managed to get out break in the middle.
 “Yes! Y-es, Daddy!” you choked out, eyes watering as he fucked you with his fingers. God, the stretch was fantastic. He didn’t hold back either, keeping an almost punishing rhythm that had you gasping for air.
 He curled them ever so slightly and you shuddered, hips jerking upwards in a desperate attempt to either get closer or relieve the pressure. You had no idea which because his hand was choking you tightly enough that the only real thoughts in your head were badly strung together swear words.
 “That’s what I like to hear,” he hummed, pleased and for the second time today, he ran his tongue across his teeth and grinned at you. Even though most thoughts were being railed out of your head at an amazing speed, you did manage to notice that he was beginning to look a little desperate himself- despite the cool, calm demeanour he was presenting.
 You clenched your muscles around his fingers experimentally and sure enough, his jaw tightened- smile gone and his eyes predatory.
 “Since we’re in public, there isn’t enough time to do all the things I want to do to you… But we can make do, sweetheart, can’t we?” he asked and you nodded. You didn’t care what kind of marathon you were signing up to later as long as he kept going right now and did. Not. Stop.
 Then his fingers were gone and the fat head of his cock was parting your pussy, bearing down to push inside you. You arched you back as you cried out and Toshi shushed you sweetly, although he kept the grip on your neck firm so that you wouldn’t move around too much.
 Knowing that these hands could hit hard enough to level a city block only served to make you wetter than you already were and the pressure of his cock pushing into you was leaving you breathless. You made another pathetic noise- still stretching around him as he pressed on further.
 “Colour, kitten?” he asked suddenly, eyeing your absolutely wrecked expression.
 “Green! Green, baby please!” you bucked, trying to take him in faster. Toshinori snorted and held you firmly- despite your protest and plea for him to hurry things along. You might be well practiced in taking his cock, but that didn’t mean it didn’t require a good amount of preparation and it wasn’t something he was willing to just rush.
 He didn’t care if someone walked in and you had to stop altogether. He refused to let you get hurt just because you were both too eager to do this safely.
 On the other hand, you were holding onto his wrist for dear life with both hands, your fingers digging in and urging him to go faster.
 Splaying his free hand wide across your belly, Toshi held you still and with a short sharp thrust he finally felt the head of his cock push inside you. You made a noise of extreme satisfaction and now it was just a matter of slowly inching himself in bit by bit. He did so, as slowly as he could stand until he felt like you were at your limit.
 You were shaking, because if he didn’t move in the next three seconds you were going to move for him. Fuck the game at this point, he was teasing you to the point of absolute madness-
 Toshi watched your face as he pulled out and thrust back in, easy and slow to begin with. Your reaction was instantaneous.
 You cried out, hips rolling and one hand sliding up along his arm to grip what you could of his bicep. He smirked and did it again, loving the way your head pressed back against the wood and how fucking amazing his hand looked around your throat.
 You were on a whole other goddamn planet right now.
 Breathing was getting slightly difficult but not impossible and if you tapped his arm twice he would know to lighten up. You weren’t at your limit yet though and so you simply touched him where you could reach, needing the heat of his skin beneath your palms.
 His hand tightened again as he groaned, loudly and sinfully- like this was the most religious experience he’d ever had. Your vision blurred for a moment and the pressure in your stomach was twisting, winding tighter and tighter until it was dangerously close to snapping.
 Your whole body was lighting up, nerve endings firing and Toshi was now picking up the pace of his thrusts. He was still keeping them steady but his tempo increased, and the slick warmth between your legs was making your head spin. Or maybe it was the lack of oxygen-
 Fuck, you needed to breathe.
 You tapped his arm twice and his grip immediately lessened, eyes flashing towards your face in concern. But as you’d agreed on, he didn’t stop fucking you or remove his hand from your neck. That would have been three taps- and you were nowhere near fucked out enough for that yet.
 You sucked in a full breath, glad for the oxygen.
 “Okay baby?” he asked, leaning over you to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You nodded, finding the perfect opportunity to thread your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Such were the perks of having an absurdly tall boyfriend. He could comfortably fuck you and lean over to kiss you at the same time.
 He sighed into the kiss, hips snapping forward and you bit down on his bottom lip- before sucking it lightly. Toshi made a noise of pleasure but it was drowned out by your keening cry when he reached down to rub at your clit again.
 “Tighter again?” he asked after a moment of letting you catch your breath and you nodded eagerly, mouth falling open as he applied the pressure in increments. Bit by bit he strengthened his grip and you watched, fascinated as the muscles in his arm flexed while he did.
 He stopped moments before it became too much. The whole time he’d been carefully and precisely finding the sweet spot around your throat, he’d been keeping a steady pace between your thighs. He wasn’t bottoming out- having not really had the time or space to really prepare you for that absolutely magnum task.
 So you both settled for shallower thrusts, keeping the pace quick as you raced to the edge.
 Toshi was panting against your shoulder and your inner muscles were fluttering around him, almost there. So close it was killing you. If he slowed down right now, you were going to kill him. Thankfully, he seemed to be all out of fucks to give and he smirked when your nails dug into his wrist, baring his teeth and sinking them into your shoulder.
 You bucked almost painfully hard, a choked, cut off cry of his name leaving your lips. He let go, laving the bite with his tongue thoughtfully, soothing the sting. The thumb of the hand that was around your throat was rubbing up and down your jawline, gently reminding you not to get too carried away.
 But you were so close to coming right now that your attention was elsewhere- chasing the pleasure he was giving you with a one track mind. His whole upper body was covering yours now and the hand you had buried in his hair trailed down so you could hook your arm around his back.
 Palm flat, you took a second to appreciate the roll of his muscles under his shirt.
 He nuzzled you, forehead pressing against the side of your head and his mouth close to your ear so you could hear every shaky, barely held together inhale and exhale.
 “So good, sweetheart. You’re such a good girl,” he said and you squeezed your knees into his sides to let him know that you appreciated his praise. A lot. If there was one way to get you to do anything it was to call you a good girl and Toshinori knew and exploited that fact all the damn time. “You want to come? Yeah?” he asked as if it wasn’t obvious from the absolute state of you underneath him.
 He squeezed when you didn’t answer and you managed a pathetic-
 “Yes please Daddy.”
 -that was hoarse and pleading and fuck, please, please, please was all you could think. You needed to come. You had needed it all fucking week and that picture that he’d sent you had nearly stopped your heart on the spot. It was all you’d thought about for hours at a time.
 He was all you’d thought about.
 “I’m close too, kitten,” he huffed out, raising himself up on one forearm so he loomed over you again. “Tighter?” he asked again and you nodded as best you could, feeling his hips pick up speed even more. This was it. He choked you as tight as you could handle without tapping out and thrust forward at such an angle that he managed to brush against your clit at long last.
 The result was instantaneous.
 Your orgasm whited you out. It spread from your fingers to your toes and hit every nerve with a fucking baseball bat on the way down. If no-one knew what was going on in here before then they would definitely know now- considering you had just screamed Toshinori’s name loud enough to be heard across town.
 Between your garbled sobs and pleading and moans of his name mixed with obscenities, Toshi was barely holding on to himself. The strong contraction of your muscles around his cock was suddenly too much and he lost the battle to see you through to the end of your orgasm.
 He groaned, long and low when his balls tightened and he came- panting your name as his hips jerked repeatedly. You could feel the tremble in his muscles between your legs and the sweet, fulfilling sensation of him filling you up.
 He wasn’t as deep as he would normally be though and the result was a mess, your mixed come dripping out around his cock and down your ass- pooling on the table below.
 His forehead dropped to the wood beside you as you both slumped at the same time, utterly exhausted.
 “How are you holding up princess? You alright?” he asked after a long moment of simply breathing in time to yours- noticing the way your eyes were shut and your breathing was still hard.
 Opening your eyes at last, you smoothed your hand across the broad plane of his back, scratching your nails in a soft line between his shoulder blades. His whole body trembled again- both from little aftershocks and the fact that he was nearing his limit on holding this form.
 “Alright?” you snorted. “Alright? Are you kidding me, Toshinori? I’m pretty sure that I’m not walking out of here. At least… not in a straight line.”
 Your laughter was infectious and he joined in, the pair of you giggling like teenagers, exhausted and spent and covered in various fluids. You would have been content to lay there like that with him at home, keeping him inside you while you played with his hair and gave him massive heart eyes. But it was quickly dawning on the both of you that hanging around in the open like this any longer was definitely going to get you caught.
 Toshi groaned when he pulled out of you and stood up straight, rubbing his back. He grumbled something under his breath about ‘getting old’ and you managed to lift your head to look at him- incredulous.
 “Yeah, I’m pretty sure old guys don’t fuck like you do baby,” you informed him smugly, absolutely loving the way his cheeks flushed as though he hadn’t been choking you and calling himself ‘daddy’ not five minutes before. This man was a study in fucking opposites sometimes and it only endeared him to you even more.
 He groaned when he twisted from side to side and you took pity on him, despite not being able to move much yourself.
 “Babe, why don’t you just change back now? You have to be exhausted.”
 He shot you a grateful look and then did just that- a blast of air and smoke and there he was in all of his skinny glory- dwarfed in a suit that was now ten times too big for him. Considering that his pants were still splayed open at the top, gravity dictated that they almost immediately fall down to his ankles.
 “Damn,” he huffed and glared down at them, unamused at both that and your resulting laughter.
 “There’s no way I can bend down for those,” he said, face absolutely deadpan and despite the ache in your whole damn body, you were wracked with giggles as he stared forlornly at his pants. He glanced over at you, content to lay there for a moment longer while he worked out his dilemma. “Little help?”
 “Oh, Daddy, there’s no hope of that. My legs are done. Anyone could walk in right now and I wouldn’t give a shit,” you explained, raising the only part of you that wasn’t all fucked out. You lifted your head and grinned at him- his expression amused and exasperated in equal measure. “Besides, I need to get my breath back.”
 He laughed, short and sharp and finally found the energy to bend at the waist and pull his pants up. He had to tighten the belt as much as he possibly could to make them stay put, but eventually they complied and he wandered over to you- holding your panties and jeans in one hand.
 He dangled them over your head and you managed a lazy grab, giggling again as he pulled them out of your reach.
 Then his eyes flickered down to your throat and he frowned suddenly, reaching out to rub gently over the redness he’d left behind. You were still quite content to sag back against the desk, knowing that when you moved at last it would mean cleaning up the mess you had both made of the hall.
 “Are you sure you’re okay? I know you like being choked sweetheart but I’m always worried that I overdo it,” he said, concerned as he always was after a particularly intense session. Your expression softened at the way he worried, feeling a wave of affection for him.
 You really wouldn’t have him any other way. No one worried about you like he did.
 You caught his hand in yours and brought it to your lips to kiss his palm.
 “I loved it and I love you and I had a great time.”
 His expression changed in an instant, a winning smile gracing his skinny features and you returned it without even thinking.
 “Love you too sweetheart,” he responded softly and you gave his hand one last kiss before finally summoning the energy to stand at long last. Using the desk behind you for support, you tiredly shimmied back into your pants while your boyfriend went about gathering the papers that had been strewn around the floor.
 It was only when you glanced at him after a moment, did it dawn on you what he was holding. What you’d almost been fucked on top of.
 The exam papers.
 The now messy, out of order, exam papers.
 Hell Week had struck again and when Toshinori caught your eye, he immediately paused in what he was doing to look down at the papers in his hand too.
 “Oh,” he said after a long, long moment of staring at them blankly. “Well fuck.”
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ganymedesclock · 3 years
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These are questions I've had for some while and it's hard to find someone who'll answer with grace. This mostly relates to disabilities (mental or physical) in fiction.
1) What makes a portrayal of a disability that's harming the character in question ableist?
2) Is there a way to write a disabled villain in a way that isn't ableist?
In the circles I've been in, the common conceptions are you can't use a character's disability as a plot point or showcase it being a hindrance in some manner. heaven forbid you make your villain disabled in some capacity, that's a freaking death sentence to a creative's image. I understand historically villains were the only characters given disabilities, but (and this is my personal experience) I've not seen as many disabled villains nowadays, heck, I see more disabled heroes in media nowadays.
Sorry if this comes off as abrasive, I'd really like to be informed for future media consumption and my own creative endeavors.
Okay so the first thing I'm going to say is that while it IS a good idea to talk to disabled people and get their feedback, disabled people are not a monolith and they aren't going to all have the same take on how this goes.
My personal take is biased in favor that I'm a neurodivergent person (ADHD and autism) who has no real experience with physical disabilities, so I won't speak for physically disabled people- heck, I won't even speak for every neurotype. Like I say, people aren't a monolith.
For myself and my own writing of disabled characters, here's a couple of concepts I stick by:
Research is your friend
Think about broad conventions of ableism
Be mindful of cast composition
1. Research is your friend
Yeah this is the thing everybody says, so here's the main bases I try to cover:
What's the story on this character's disability?
Less in terms of 'tragic angst' and more, what kind of condition this is- because a congenital amputee (that is to say, someone who was born without a limb) will have a different relationship to said limb absence than someone who lost their limb years ago to someone who lost their limb yesterday. How did people in their life respond to it, and how did they respond to it? These responses are not "natural" and will not be the same to every person with every worldview. This can also be a great environment to do worldbuilding in! Think about the movie (and the tv series) How To Train Your Dragon. The vikings in that setting don't have access to modern medicine, and they're, well, literally fighting dragons and other vikings. The instance of disability is high, and the medical terminology to talk about said disabilities is fairly lackluster- but in a context where you need every man you possibly can to avoid the winter, the mindset is going to be not necessarily very correct, but egalitarian. You live in a village of twenty people and know a guy who took a nasty blow to the head and hasn't quite been the same ever since? "Traumatic Brain Injury" is probably not going to be on your lips, but you're also probably going to just make whatever peace you need to and figure out how to accommodate Old Byron for his occasional inability to find the right word, stammers and trembles. In this example, there are several relevant pieces of information- what the character's disability is (aphasia), how they got it (brain injury), and the culture and climate around it (every man has to work, and we can't make more men or throw them away very easily, so, how can we make sure this person can work even if we don't know what's wrong with them)
And that dovetails into:
What's the real history, and modern understandings, of this?
This is where "knowing the story" helps a lot. To keep positing our hypothetical viking with a brain injury, I can look into brain injuries, what affects their extent and prognosis, and maybe even beliefs about this from the time period and setting I'm thinking of (because people have had brains, and brain injuries, the entire time!) Sure, if the setting is fantastical, I have wiggle room, but looking at inspirations might give me a guide post.
Having a name for your disorder also lets you look for posts made by specific people who live with the condition talking about their lives. This is super, super important for conditions stereotyped as really scary, like schizophrenia or narcissistic personality disorder. Even if you already know "schizophrenic people are real and normal" it's still a good thing to wake yourself up and connect with others.
2. Think about broad conventions of ableism
It CAN seem very daunting or intimidating to stay ahead of every single possible condition that could affect someone's body and mind and the specific stereotypes to avoid- there's a lot under the vast umbrella of human experience and we're learning more all the time! A good hallmark is, ableism has a few broad tendencies, and when you see those tendencies rear their head, in your own thinking or in accounts you read by others, it's good to put your skeptical glasses on and look closer. Here's a few that I tend to watch out for:
Failing the “heartwarming dog” test
This was a piece of sage wisdom that passed my eyeballs, became accepted as sage wisdom, and my brain magnificently failed to recall where I saw it. Basically, if you could replace your disabled character with a lovable pet who might need a procedure to save them, and it wouldn’t change the plot, that’s something to look into.
Disability activists speak often about infantilization, and this is a big thing of what they mean- a lot of casual ableism considers disabled people as basically belonging to, or being a burden onto, the able-bodied and neurotypical. This doesn’t necessarily even need to have an able neurotypical in the picture- a personal experience I had that was extremely hurtful was at a point in high school, I decided to do some research on autism for a school project. As an autistic teenager looking up resources online, I was very upset to realize that every single resource I accessed at the time presumed it was talking to a neurotypical parent about their helpless autistic child. I was looking for resources to myself, yet made to feel like I was the subject in a conversation.
Likewise, many wheelchair users have relayed the experience of, when they, in their chair, are in an environment accompanied by someone else who isn’t using a chair, strangers would speak to the standing person exclusively, avoiding addressing the chair user. 
It’s important to always remind yourself that at no point do disabled people stop being people. Yes, even people who have facial deformities; yes, even people who need help using the bathroom; yes, even people who drool; yes, even people whose conditions impact their ability to communicate, yes, even people with cognitive disabilities. They are people, they deserve dignity, and they are not “a child trapped in a 27-year-old body”- a disabled adult is still an adult. All of the “trying to learn the right rules” in the world won’t save you if you keep an underlying fear of non-normative bodies and minds.
This also has a modest overlap between disability and sexuality in particular. I am an autistic grayromantic ace. Absolutely none of my choices or inclinations about sex are because I’m too naive or innocent or childlike to comprehend the notion- disabled people have as diverse a relationship with sexuality as any other. That underlying fear- as mentioned before- can prevent many people from imagining that, say, a wheelchair user might enjoy sex and have experience with it. Make sure all of your disabled characters have full internal worlds.
Poor sickly little Tiffany and the Red Right Hand
A big part of fictional ableism is that it separates the disabled into two categories. Anybody who’s used TVTropes would recognize the latter term I used here. But to keep it brief:
Poor, sickly little Tiffany is cute. Vulnerable. How her disability affects her life is that it constantly creates a pall of suffering that she lives beneath. After all, having a non-normative mind or body must be an endless cavalcade of suffering and tragedy, right? People who are disabled clearly spend their every waking moment affected by, and upset, that they aren’t normal!
The answer is... No, actually. Cut the sad violin; even people who have chronic pain who are literally experiencing pain a lot more than the rest of us are still fully capable of living complex lives and being happy. If nothing else, it would be literally boring to feel nothing but awful, and people with major depression or other problems still, also, have complicated experiences. And yes, some of it’s not great. You don’t have to present every disability as disingenuously a joy to have. But make a point that they own these things. It is a very different feeling to have a concerned father looking through the window at his angel-faced daughter rocking sadly in her wheelchair while she stares longingly out the window, compared to a character waking up at midnight because they have to go do something and frustratedly hauling their body out of their bed into their chair to get going.
Poor Sickly Little Tiffany (PSLT, if you will) virtually always are young, and they virtually always are bound to the problems listed under ‘failing the heartwarming dog’ test. Yes, disabled kids exist, but the point I’m making here is that in the duality of the most widely accepted disabled characters, PSLT embodies the nadir of the Victim, who is so pure, so saintly, so gracious, that it can only be a cruel quirk of fate that she’s suffering. After all, it’s not as if disabled people have the same dignity that any neurotypical and able-bodied person has, where they can be an asshole and still expect other people to not seriously attack their quality of life- it’s a “service” for the neurotypical and able-bodied to “humor” them.
(this is a bad way to think. Either human lives matter or they don’t. There is no “wretched half-experience” here- if you wouldn’t bodily grab and yank around a person standing on their own feet, you have no business grabbing another person’s wheelchair)
On the opposite end- and relevant to your question- is the Red Right Hand. The Red Right Hand does not have PSLT’s innocence or “purity”- is the opposite extreme. The Red Right Hand is virtually always visually deformed, and framed as threatening for their visual deformity. To pick on a movie I like a fair amount, think about how in Captain America: The Winter Soldier, the title character is described- “Strong. Fast. Had a metal arm.” That’s a subtle example, but, think about how that metal arm is menacing. Sure, it’s a high tech weapon in a superhero genre- but who has the metal arm? The Winter Soldier, who is, while a tormented figure that ultimately becomes more heroic- scary. Aggressive. Out for blood.
The man who walks at midnight with a Red Right Hand is a signal to us that his character is foul because of the twisting of his body. A good person, we are led to believe, would not be so- or a good person would be ashamed of their deformity and work to hide it. The Red Right Hand is not merely “an evil disabled person”- they are a disabled person whose disability is depicted as symptomatic of their evil, twisted nature, and when you pair this trope with PSLT, it sends a message: “stay in your place, disabled people. Be sad, be consumable, and let us push you around and decide what to do with you. If you get uppity, if you have ideas, if you stand up to us, then the thing that made you a helpless little victim will suddenly make you a horrible monster, and justify us handling you with inhumanity.”
As someone who is a BIG fan of eldritch horror and many forms of unsettling “wrongness” it is extremely important to watch out for the Red Right Hand. Be careful how you talk about Villainous Disability- there is no connection between disability and morality. People will be good, bad, or simply just people entirely separate from their status of ability or disability. It’s just as ableist to depict every disabled person as an innocent good soul as it is to exclusively deal in grim and ghastly monsters.
Don’t justify disabilities and don’t destroy them.
Superpowers are cool. Characters can and IMO should have superpowers, as long as you’re writing a genre when they’re there.
BUT.
It’s important to remember that there is no justification for disabilities, because they don’t need one. Disability is simply a feature characters have. You do not need to go “they’re blind, BUT they can see the future”
This is admittedly shaky, and people can argue either way; the Blind Seer is a very pronounced mythological figure and an interesting philosophical point about what truly matters in the world. There’s a reason it exists as a conceit. But if every blind character is blind in a way that completely negates that disability or makes it meaningless- this sucks. People have been blind since the dawn of time. And people will always accommodate their disabilities in different ways. Even if the technology exists to fix some forms of blindness, there are people who will have “fixable” blindness and refuse to treat it. There will be individuals born blind who have no meaningful desire to modify this. And there are some people whose condition will be inoperable even if it “shouldn’t” be.
You don’t need to make your disabled characters excessively cool, or give them a means by which the audience can totally forget they’re disabled. Again, this is a place where strong worldbuilding is your buddy- a handwave of “x technology fixed all disabilities”, in my opinion, will never come off good. If, instead, however, you throw out a careless detail that the cool girl the main character is chatting up in a cyberpunk bar has an obvious spinal modification, and feature other characters with prosthetics and without- I will like your work a lot, actually. Even if you’re handing out a fictional “cure”- show the seams. Make it have drawbacks and pros and cons. A great example of this is in the series Full Metal Alchemist- the main character has two prosthetic limbs, and not only do these limbs come with problems, some mundane (he has phantom limb pains, and has to deal with outgrowing his prostheses or damaging them in combat) some more fantastical (these artificial limbs are connected to his nerves to function fluidly- which means that they get surgically installed with no anesthesia and hurt like fuck plugging in- and they require master engineering to stay in shape). We explicitly see a scene of the experts responsible for said limbs talking to a man who uses an ordinary prosthetic leg, despite the advantages of an automail limb, because these drawbacks are daunting to him and he is happier with a simple prosthetic leg.
Even in mundane accommodations you didn’t make up- no two wheelchair users use their chair the exact same way, and there’s a huge diversity of chairs. Someone might be legally blind but still navigate confidently on their own; they might use a guide dog, or they might use a cane. They might even change their needs from situation to situation!
Disability accommodations are part of life
This ties in heavily to the previous point, but seriously! Don’t just look up one model of cane and superimpose it with no modifications onto your character- think about what their lifestyle is, and what kind of person they are!
Also medication is not the devil. Yes, medical abuse is real and tragic and the medication is not magic fairy dust that solves all problems either. But also, it’s straight ableism to act like anybody needing pills for any reason is a scary edgy plot twist. 
(and addiction is a disease. Please be careful, and moreover be compassionate, if you’re writing a character who’s an addict)
3. Be mindful of cast composition
This, to me, is a big tip about disability writing and it’s also super easy to implement!
Just make sure your cast has a lot of meaningful disabled characters in it!
Have you done all the work you can to try and dodge the Red Right Hand but you’re still worried your disabled villain is a bad look? They sure won’t look like a commentary on disability if three other people in the cast are disabled and don’t have the same outlook or role! Worried that you’re PSLT-ing your main character’s disabled child? Maybe the disability is hereditary and they got it from the main character!
The more disabled characters you have, the more it will challenge you to think about what their individual relationship is with the world and the less you’ll rely on hackneyed tropes. At least, ideally.
-
Ultimately, there’s no perfect silver bullet of diversity writing that will prevent a work from EVER being ableist, but I hope this helped, at least!
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ravennm84 · 4 years
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Marinette’s Family Court Circus
I got this idea from a post @unmaskedagain and decided to put my own little spin to it. It’s a bit sad and does have my usual Lila-Salt spin, but I really loved writing this. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!
The day of her greatest triumph was also her greatest tragedy. Hawkmoth had finally been defeated, the butterfly and peacock miraculous back in the miracle box where they belonged, and Paris was finally safe. 
However, when Gabriel Agreste was revealed to be the magical terrorist and his assistant, Nathalie, his accomplice, Adrien had been devastated. When the Paris police sought to find out the extent of Adrien's involvement, he had no choice but to reveal in a private interrogation room with only the mayor, Officer Roger, the chief of police, and Ladybug herself, his identity as Chat Noir. After which, Adrien said a tearful goodbye to Plagg and surrendered the ring of destruction to Ladybug. A press conference was held within an hour, absolving Adrien of any crimes in relation to his father, and his bodyguard would also be absolved four days later.
That night, after Ladybug had returned home and tearfully placed the ring, broch, and pin back in the miracle box; her parents and Grandma Gina had told her that they were going out to dinner to celebrate; Gina had even rented a car so they wouldn’t need to walk or take the subway. How Marinette wished that they had just gotten on the subway.
She woke up the following afternoon in the hospital. Apparently, her family weren’t the only people celebrating Hawkmoth’s defeat, and a car load of university students had celebrated too hard and T-boned their car while running a light. The doctors told her that her grandmother and father had died on impact and her mother passed away during surgery. Marinette had been extremely lucky to survive without any life threatening injuries; a broken leg, arm, collar bone, two cracked ribs, and a few lacerations across her body. 
She was hardly paying attention to what the doctors were saying. Too shocked by the whole situation. There was no Miraculous Cure that could fix this. In the span of a single day, she had defeated her enemy, saved Paris, lost her partner, lost her grandmother, and her parents. She was alone.
When her family’s lawyer, M. Contere came to talk about custody, it was revealed that her grandmother was supposed to take custody in the event of her parents' deaths. Her grandfather would have been the next logical choice, but he had recently suffered a stroke and had been placed in a nursing home. This left the lawyer scrambling to find someone to take the girl or risk having her surrendered to the city of Paris.
Going through the Dupain-Chengs’ contact list, M. Contere made phone calls to numbers listed as family friends or emergency contacts. There were three that particularly stood out to him, all listed under the title of ‘uncle’. 
The first was to an ‘Uncle J’; a woman answered the phone, introducing herself as Penny. When Contere told her it had to do with the Dupain-Chengs, the phone was handed to a man with a distinctly British accent. He sounded devastated to hear that Tom, Sabine, and Gina had all passed away before going into a panic and asking if Marinette was alright, showing absolute relief that she had survived the crash. When Contere mentioned the custody hearing, the man practically demanded to know the date, time, and place before promising that he would be there.
The second contact that stood out was labeled as ‘Uncle Tony’. That call was answered by an assistant named Jarvis before transferring the call to Tony. Again, Contere could hear the surprise and hurt at hearing that his friends had passed away before asking if Marinette had been in the car. When told that she had survived, there was relief and he mentioned that Peter would have probably cried for a week if he’d lost his childhood friend. Tony then offered to take custody of Marinette and Contere quickly told him the details.
Although M. Contere was relieved that at least two family friends/possible relatives seemed more than willing to take Marinette, he knew how fickle and difficult the courts could be and wanted as many options as possible for the girl, which led to the third contact labeled ‘Uncle Bruce’. 
The phone was answered by an older sounding gentleman named Alfred before transferring the call. Contere could hear multiple voices in the background, most sounding like young men, and when he told Bruce about the passing of Tom, Sabine, and Gina; it went very quiet for a moment before all the voices began speaking at once demanding to know what happened, who was responsible, and if Marinette was okay. M.Contere answered the questions that he could and told them that Marinette was in need of a legal guardian. Bruce said Gina had been a great friend and mentor to him when he was younger and that he would be honored to care for her granddaughter. So he told him the details of the court hearing with the promise that he would make sure that Marinette was taken care of until then.
After hanging up, M. Contere had a strange feeling that he couldn’t shake. A feeling that told him that those three ‘Uncles’ were either going to make his job of getting Marinette into a stable home a lot easier… or it would be a total nightmare.
~oOo~
The day of the hearing was a Monday and Marinette's case was the first on the docket, which was a relief. If things went smoothly, she could be placed with one of her respective uncles by the end of the week and be taken care of. When the two of them stepped into the room, with Marinette rolling beside him in her wheelchair, M. Contere was surprised to see multiple familiar faces in the courtroom that he had not expected. Jagged Stone, Bruce Wayne, and Tony Stark were glaring, arguing, and puffing out their chests at each other; ignoring everyone else in the room. He also noticed how each man seemed to have an entire team of lawyers backing them up.
The tension and glaring match only broke when the two women; Pepper Potts and Penny Rolling, and the four Wayne boys; Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damien, noticed Marinette’s arrival. 
“Marinette, sweetie, how are you feeling?” Penny asked as she walked away from Jagged to kneel beside Marinette’s wheelchair.
“Been better, but I’m glad to see some familiar faces,” she said with a weak smile.
Pepper leaned over a bit to give the girl a gentle hug while minding her injuries. “We’re here for you, Mari. No matter what.”
Then the four boys were almost surrounding her, offering to hunt down the people that took away their family and pile so many lawsuits on them that they’ll die of papercuts. This made her chuckle and grimace a bit from the pain, telling the boys that was sweet but unnecessary.
Jagged, Bruce, and Tony immediately put their argument on hold as they hurried over to check on the girl as well. Contere found it to be a good sign that Marinette seemed familiar with the three men, that they all asked how she was and if she wanted anything, as well as promising that they would take care of her. That last one, the three said at the same time and got them glaring at each other again. This caused Contere to sweat and Marinette to give her head a resigned shake.
What followed would probably go down as the most intense, well argued, and most headache-inducing case in the history of the Paris Family Court System with all three men vying for custody of the teenage girl. 
Being able to provide financial stability wasn’t a concern as Jagged Stone was currently the most successful rockstar in Europe, Asia, Australia, and the Americas; while Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne were two of the wealthiest businessmen in the entire world. All three even offered to completely cover Marinette’s tuition to any school she wanted, so long as she was accepted.
Her safety turned out to be a large factor with all three men, and they were willing to hire their own private security to make sure that she stayed safe at all times. However, the three men also argued how the others lived in unsafe environments. 
Jagged mostly lived in tour buses and out of hotels, which was a factor; but he was willing to call off his tours during the school year and only go on tour during school breaks so Marinette would never be without her guardian. Penny was also willing to help Jagged at every turn, stating that she loved Marinette like a niece and would make sure that she had a strong female role model in her life as well.
Tony’s reputation as a playboy and his identity as Iron Man brought up the possibility of attracting a dangerous element. He argued that his homes were equipped with the most advanced security systems on the planet. As well as being friends with an actual “God-Alien”, who had met Marinette and liked her a great deal. Tony was also willing to make Marinette her own personal Iron Suit that would be programmed to protect and fly her to a safe location at the first sign of danger. Pepper also offered to share custody as she already took care of Tony’s daily life as his assistant, taking care of Marinette would be easy and she was looking forward to having her around.
Bruce’s residence in Gotham, the most crime ridden city in North America, was a big factor. Bruce made a point that he already had experience as a guardian of his three adopted sons and his biological son, and they were kept safe. That he also had a top of the line security system at his home, which was located outside of city limits. Dick, Jason, and Tim also commented that they thought of Marinette like a little sister and that Wayne Enterprises had locations all over the world. If the judge decided that Gotham was too dangerous, one of them would gladly take up residency in a city that the judge approved and would stay there to watch over Marinette while still working and providing for her.
After two hours of listening to the back and forth of the three men and their lawyers, the judge decided that he’d heard enough for the day and set the next meeting for the following Thursday after lunch. He also recommended that the men bring proof that they have the mental capability of caring for a teenage girl, lists of schools near their homes to show that she will continue her education, and character witnesses, if available. 
The three men wanted to take Marinette out to get something to eat after the court was adjourned, but M. Contere was forced to tell them that it would not be appropriate during the legal proceedings. He also recommended that they follow the judge’s instructions and make sure that they had everything needed, otherwise they would likely not qualify. Hearing that got all three men, their assistants, family, and lawyers moving at top speeds to get everything they needed for court in a few days. 
Once they were out of sight, the lawyer couldn’t help but let out a stress induced sigh as he raised one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. This custody battle had the potential to turn into a total circus, and although it could do great things for his career in the long run, he was more worried about how this would affect Marinette. 
Speaking of, he was brought from his thoughts when he felt her small hand gently pat the hand that was holding his briefcase. When he looked down at her, she gave him a kind, though slightly amused smile. “You had no idea about the can of worms you were opening when you made those phone calls, did you?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “How was I supposed to know that Uncle J, Uncle Tony, and Uncle Bruce would turn out to be three of the most influential men in the world? How does your family even know all of them?”
“Uncle Bruce was raised by the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth, after his parents died. Grandma Gina and Alfred were best friends when they were younger. After the Waynes died, Gina would go check on them in Gotham, she liked to brag that she helped get Bruce back out of his shell. Uncle Tony knew my parents back in university, he was a lot younger and smarter than the other students and you can guess that didn’t go over well with some of them. My parents looked out for him and they became friends, and even after he got busy when he took over the company, he always made time to be there for the big moments in our lives; my parents’ wedding, their baby shower, and when I was born. I’ve actually spent a few summers in Gotham and New York visiting them.”
“And Jagged Stone?”
“He’s the most recent of my honorary uncles. I’m his personal designer, but he got unofficially adopted into my family after the tv show that took place in my parents’ bakery. Uncle Jagged made a bread guitar and sang rock songs with my dad. Once the show was over, Mom invited him and Penny to stay for dinner. During the course of the night, Dad claimed him as a new little brother. Jagged was so happy that he started calling my parents big brother and big sister, and started calling me his niece. Since then, he’s come over at least once a month to just relax and be a family with us.”
M. Contere couldn’t help but smile at that. From the sound of it and what he had seen, all three men truly cared about this girl and were willing to bend over backwards for her. That was a good thing, but he still worried that a custody battle between these three men could go for a long time and possibly cause mental distress for Marinette. Although the final decision was ultimately up to the judge, he was allowed to make recommendations if they were in the best interests of the child. 
With that in mind, he knelt down beside Marinette. “You know the three of them and what they’re living situations are like better than I do. And even though you’re not 15 years old yet, I could petition the judge to factor your opinion. Which of them would you like to have guardian status?”
When Marinette gave him a knowing smile, he just knew that things might get more complicated.
~oOo~
It got a lot more complicated.
The media had caught wind of the custody battle, causing a giant crowd of paparazzi to stake out the courthouse to catch a glimpse of the rockstar, billionaire, and the self proclaimed “genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist” who was also a superhero. To their credit, the three only said that they were devastated by the loss of the Dupain-Chengs and wanted to do what was best for Marinette and left all the other questions at the door.
In the courtroom; all three men, as well as their assistants and Bruce’s boys, had done mental evaluations that their lawyers submitted to the judge. They also provided lists of different schools that Marinette was free to choose from; including public schools, private, and even schools that specialized in fashion. But the absolute kicker was the character witnesses.
Jagged Stone had brought other music stars, movie stars, and production mega stars that made Contere wonder for a moment if he’d accidentally walked into an award ceremony. Tony Stark had brought the Avengers, The Avengers, as his character witnesses. Contere wasn’t too proud to admit that he was a bit starstruck when Thor himself came over to great Marinette and complimented her on her ‘battle scars’, saying that they were a testament to her strength. If that wasn’t enough, Bruce brought multiple members of the Billionaire’s Club as character witnesses, many of whom had been suspected of being members of the Justice League. 
The judge looked just as surprised, though somewhat irritated, by the people crowding his courtroom. He quietly looked over the mental health evaluations that had been provided, as well as the lists of schools; finding that everything was in order and that any of them would have been wonderful guardians to the girl. He was tempted to call another recess and pick this back up the following week until Marinette’s lawyer raised his hand.
“If it would please the court,” the judge motioned for him to continue, “although Mlle. Dupain-Cheng is not yet of legal age to make a final decision on the matter of custody, I felt that she was old enough to state her opinion. We have discussed it over the past few days and I believe we came up with a proposal that will satisfy all parties involved while still being in the best interest of the child.” M. Contere presented the four copies of the proposal to the bailiff, who handed one to the judge, and the three lead lawyers.
The judge read the summary at the top before looking at the lawyer in surprise. “You’re proposing joint custody?”
“Yes, your honor. My client and I feel that due to the influence that these men hold, as you can see by the character witnesses that have come here to speak on their behalf, that this custody hearing could be drawn out for a long time, which could have mental repercussions on Marinette.” Contere didn’t miss the ‘you ain’t kidding’ roll of his eyes, or the looks of shame that the three men shared at the thought of hurting Marinette.
“Keeping that in mind, my client came up with an outline for a possible custody agreement. M. Stark would retain custody during school as he has listed one of the top fashion schools in America, which would further Marinette’s future career. The weekends would be spent with M. Wayne, as Wayne Enterprises has connections to the fashion industry and would be able to give her training to help her successfully run her own business. M. Stone would have custody during summer breaks, so Marinette may continue gaining experience as his personal designer, a position she has held for close to a year and has already earned her recognition in the industry.”
The judge grew quiet again as he contemplated the proposal and read over the details. He didn’t want to deal with these three powerful, and in a lot of ways eccentric, men for the next few months while attempting to figure out the best placement for the child. Nor did he want to deal with the media frenzy that this case had already brought on. If anything, this was likely the best option, if he could get the men to agree to the terms.
“Do you have any objections to this proposal?”
There was a moment of silence as the lawyers continued to look over the proposal and spoke to their clients. Jagged’s lawyer was the first to respond. “No, your honor. M. Stone believes that this would be best for Marinette, but we would like to add a clause that M. Stone be permitted to call and visit Mlle. Dupain-Cheng so long as it does not interfere with her school work.”
“My client would also like that clause added to the proposal, your honor,” said the Wayne lawyer. “As well as the clause that Messieurs Stone and Stark work together with M. Wayne in securing Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s safety. As previously stated, all three men could be considered high-priority targets and normally require bodyguards. M. Wayne has proposed that any potential bodyguard be vetted and approved by all parties involved before being hired.”
The judge looked to Stark’s lawyer. “And do you have any stipulations you would want to see added to the proposal?”
“Only that there be an open line of communication between Messieurs Stone, Wayne, and Stark at all times in reference to Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s well being and any possible travel. As all three men are known to travel the world for business; there will be occasions for the child to travel as well. When this occurs, the other guardians should receive notice of the country, city, and address that she resides; so, in case of an emergency, they will be able to be present to assist and protect her.”
“My client has no objections to these clauses,” said Jagged’s lawyer.
“And you, M. Wayne?”
The Wayne lawyer nodded. “The clauses are more than reasonable and are in the best interest of Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. Although I only speak for my client, I do not believe that I would be out of line to say that is the main focus of Messieurs Stone and Stark as well.”
The lawyers hid their relief when the judge nodded in agreement. “As the proposal was presented by the child and the three of you are in agreement, I’m scheduling a meeting in my chambers for next Tuesday to go over the finer details of the custodial agreement. I will allow your clients and one lawyer each to attend; this includes you and your client, M. Contere.”
“Yes, your honor.”
“And as for you, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” Marinette’s head snapped up to meet the judge’s gaze. “It seems that you have gained three extremely powerful, influential, and in many ways crazy guardians. I don’t know if I should congratulate you or give you my sympathies. What I will do is wish you the best of luck and hope that you are prepared for the future. Court is adjourned.”
There was a hum of surprise and joy that spread through the courtroom as Jagged, Bruce, and Tony stepped up to each other and shook hands before approaching Marinette and M. Contere. 
“Of course, my niece would come up with a way to keep everyone happy, she’s so rock n’ roll that way.” Jagged beamed with pride as Tony and Bruce nodded in agreement.
“Would it be alright if all of us went to dinner to celebrate,” Bruce asked Contere, indicating the ‘all’ to be himself and his boys, Jagged and Penny, and Tony and Pepper; along with Marinette and Contere.
“So long as there’s no discussion of custody and everyone stays civil, I don’t see any harm in it.”
Everyone smiled in agreement while Pepper mentioned that she’d just finished making reservations for all eleven of them at a nice restaurant that had the best view of the Eiffel Tower.
As the others began filing out of the courtroom, Marinette patted his hand and gave him a sympathetic look. “You just opened your second can.”
M. Contere wasn’t sure about what she’d meant until after the meal was over and the waitress brought the check, and then watched as the three billionaires fought over it. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he only hoped that this would all be over on Tuesday and he could go back to his normal, boring cases.
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stxleslyds · 3 years
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You always seem down on the idea of the Batfam. I mean, it is hard to take seriously when writers make Bruce hostile or downright abusive towards his kids, or when Batfam members never interact. But do you think the concept itself is good, and it's just been the victim of bad writing? Or do you think the Batfam is a bad idea that can never work?
Hi there Anon! Thank you for the ask!
Hmm, this is a difficult question. Maybe I can answer this better if I do it in parts because the concept of “Batfamily” is used in different ways currently. A way to separate them can be, DC’s Batfamily, Fandom’s Batfamily and Fandom’s Batfamily lore being introduced in comics’ canon.
DC’s Batfamily:
My rejection of this version of Batfamily comes from all angles, it is not a good concept within comics lore anymore, it’s badly written and used to hide and move on from truly horrendous actions done by Bruce towards the rest of the family, and DC uses the concept of “Batfamily” that fandom has become so attached to, so they can profit off of it without writing anything of real essence with it.
Why did I say that the Batfamily isn’t a good concept anymore? Well, because the Batfamily that I first came across in comics included, Bruce, Dick, Alfred, Barbara, Tim and Cassandra. It was rather small and their books interconnected and had pretty solid relationships with one another. Dick and Tim got along and spent time together, Barbara mentored Cass so she could become Batgirl and so on and so forth. The family was smaller and more connected. But they still had problems and bad habits then. So, I liked them as a group of people that worked together and the name they received was “Batfamily” as a way for DC to profit from it.
Right now, the Batfamily is huge, I don’t know if you have seen those splash pages with all the members of it for Rebirth and Infinite Frontier, but those promotional pages were crazy big, characters like Harley and Clownhunter are now considered part of the “Batfamily” and all that. Then there is the kind of characters like Cass, Steph and Kate who are all connected to Batman but that haven’t been appearing in books for very long, so putting them on that page really feels like DC is trying to prove that their “Batfamily” actually has women on it, but it’s just for show.
And then there is Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian, the most recognizable faces of the Batfamily aside from Bruce and Alfred (but Alfred is dead now so he doesn’t really count), all of them have had issues with Bruce or are indifferent to the existence of one another. Yes, Tom Taylor has included Tim in Dick’s book but here is the thing, it feels like he put him there just to make fans shut up about the lack of content with both of them acting as they used to do. But its false and lazy, Taylor just brought Tim to the book but we don’t get to see Tim and Dick interact in ways that can explain why they drifted off, it kinda seems like all those years where Dick and Tim were pulled apart never happened to DC and that makes me think “cash grab”. I would have loved to see them interact again if it meant that we would have some solid story for them to develop their relationship once more.
At the end of Rebirth, Damian was pissed off at Bruce and they had a fight and Damian left the manor completely. Bruce beat up Jason, then gave him a hug but still told him that he was banned from Gotham and all that abuse and manipulation was swept under the rug when DC came out with Urban Legends: Cheer, all they did with that story is lie and made-up stories about Jason wanting Bruce to go on a killing spree so Gotham can finally be the home to his beloved family (lies, lies, lies).
On top of all that we have the neglect, abuse and manipulation that Bruce had going on with Dick, ever since Bruce manipulated Dick into joining Spyral his actions haven’t faced any consequences (the family still believes that Dick was the one who lied about dying). And as recently as the end of Rebirth, Dick suffered from a head injury that left him amnesiac and Bruce absolutely didn’t care enough to look after him when he was so vulnerable and alone. DC had the audacity of having Bruce say that he was looking after Dick while Dick went from one villain manipulating and hurting him to another, and if we look at Batman’s run, we can see that he spent some of that time in a weird pit or playing catch the pussy with Selina in a tropical island.
So, taking all those things into account, I honestly believe that the Batfamily is a concept that absolutely does not belong in comics. If it were to be taken seriously then DC should come up with (organic, not forced) stories that make these characters connect once again, but they have to be careful, just because they can connect it doesn’t mean that everyone gets along and they have group chats and eat dinner together of Fridays, that would be a blatant lie and just too out there for their kind of dynamic, so, they should take things slow, start re-building what once was an make it better (if they want to make it work and feel like less of a cash grab).
I heard that there is a book with Cass and Steph being mentored as Batgirls by Barbara coming out in December, that to me is a good thing, what was done in Robin #5 was awful, Jason didn’t have or want to be there, Tim, what the hell was Tim doing there? The only ones that have gotten along with Damian and have had a solid relationship with him were Dick and Steph. Dick had a very nice moment with Damian in that issue, but Steph didn’t, they preferred to have Jason wanting to hug Damian instead (what the actual hell was that?).
Fandom’s Batfamily:
Fandom is a place where people can take any concept from anywhere and transform it into whatever they please. This fandom is just like any other in that matter, but I have noticed that sometimes the Batfamily Fandom tends to blur the lines between what’s fanon and canon. Their lore is so deep and established among people that they sometimes (willingly or not) make new readers or other people believe that how things and perceived in fandom is how things actually are in comics, and that is a huge problem.
Things like “Dick sent Jason to Arkham when the Joker was just a cell away”, “Jason has pit madness and when he gets mad his eyes turn glowy green”, “Dick was a horrendous brother to Jason before Jason died”, “Jason would be good friends with Tim and Cass”, “Jason is the only one that sees the world differently from Bruce and the other robins because he is the only one that comes from a life with no luxury” and so on and on and on…
All of those things are sometimes treated as the absolute truth by fandom and no matter how many times people have debunked and explained that those things aren’t part of comics’ canon because they are simply not true, fandom stills treats those things as the basis of their Batfamily lore.
That lore would be actually fascinating if people didn’t lose sight so easily of the fact that at the end of the day none of that lore can be applied to comics’ canon.
When you enter this fandom things can be extremely confusing and the way some of the characters are characterized are completely different to their canon characterizations, I knew that the Dick fandom was writing about was not real, but I had no idea that Tim being a coffee addict that hasn’t slept in five months and is an absolute genius in everything and anything that he does was completely out of character for him, I just thought that was true to his character in comics too. Something like that happened to me when I took a peek at Jason’s side of fandom, by that time I had read Red Hood/Arsenal, UtRH and New 52 RHatO (yeah in that order, Red Hood/Arsenal wasn’t finished yet though), with the already conflicting characterizations of those books, the first look that I had at fandom’s Jason confused me even more. After considering all those I decided that the Jason that I wanted to see and actually looked appealing to me was UtRH Jason.
Not all people in fandom read comics and that is ABSOLUTELY VALID, I have zero problems with people not liking the comic characterizations of the “Batfamily” characters, but that in itself also creates a rift between fans themselves.
Fandom’s Batfamily lore being introduced in comics’ canon:
This is obviously the intersection of the other two points and this is the biggest problem that I have with the Batfamily concept. The fandom lore has been leaking into comic’s canon for a while now but right now we are kinda drowning in it. Decisions that have been made recently in DC like, Jason giving up his guns, the group chats in Nightwing issues, the family dinners that were hinted at in Cheer #6, and Bruce having had at the ready a Red Hood suit for Jason with a Batman logo in its chest, have been proof enough that DC is planning on skipping any kind of solid writing for these characters to actually get along. We are never going to see these people sit down and talk about their differences and respect each other’s work ethics.
We are never going to get stories of actual essence that prove that these characters understand and care for each other, we are just going to be told that “all is good” and now everyone loves one another and they will build from there.
That is a problem for me.
-
And it also takes away duality from Gotham’s vigilantes, I know I say this too much but it’s the truth, putting all these characters under the ruling of Batman makes them all bland. Jason shouldn’t be part of any sort of group that involves Bruce! My god, I don’t want to see them interact anymore! Bruce has been absolute trash to Jason ever since he came back from the dead and I am tired of DC trying to make them be on good terms!
Jason and Bruce not getting along can co-exist with the fact that Jason isn’t a villain to Batman’s legendary hero. Jason is his own character, with his own morals and he doesn’t need a bat symbol on his chest or book logo to be relevant. Same with Dick, Tim and Barbara, let them be characters that can stand on their own because they have already done that!
Barbara as Oracle worked WITH Batman if she wanted, she had her own logo and had passed on the mantle of Batgirl because he had grown out of it.
Dick is Nightwing and has become an even better hero than Batman could even aspire to become, he has contacts with everyone in the DC universe, has led countless teams, he doesn’t NEED a batman logo on his book or to be constantly dragged back to him just to make the Bat more compelling.
Jason, my sweet Jason, he had his own logo! It was gorgeous and then Lobdell had the audacity to stamp a Batman logo in the middle of the book name and in Jason’s chest! Have we gone absolutely mad? Why did they do that? Lobdell’s constant back and forth with Jason and his feelings for Bruce, he respects him and he doesn’t, he kills and he doesn’t… each issue felt like a new take on the character! It was crazy!
And that has happened with everyone in the “family”. I will end this by saying that Bruce/Batman being at the centre of this “Batfamily” dynamic is the most laughable thing in the DC Universe. Batman isn’t family to any of the people that they constantly surround him with, he is a piece of shit.
Anyway Anon, I hope this answer doesn’t ruin your day and that you understand that even though I really don’t like the “Batfamily” concept, you and everyone else are allowed and encouraged to think differently!
Hope you have a marvellous day Anon!
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renaerys · 3 years
Note
Okay I've got one: Prompt 15 with Reds. 🤣🤣🤣
15. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying, I just keep thinking about how good that mouth feels.”
Somehow they can make even breathing a competition.
Send me a prompt and some characters! Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we're getting creative here.
List of prompts
xxx
“So, we’ve called the paramedics and they’re on their way, but until they arrive it’s up to us. Remember the acronym, kids: C-A-B. What’s the first thing you do?”
Aiyeesha Simpson, a gunner in the making destined for academic greatness and social ruin, raised her eager hand. “Find a flat surface to lay him down!”
“Correct.” Blossom took Brick by the shoulders and shoved him down to the floor. A gaggle of Girl Scouts gathered around him as he wheezed for air.
“Ow,” he said.
Blossom patted his chest. “Please choke more quietly.”
I will end you, he thought so loudly he hoped she could hear him through the murder in his eyes. There was community service, and then there was cruel and unusual punishment. When his required hours were up and his record expunged, he was going to write a very negative Yelp review of the local Townsville Girls Scouts of America chapter and tank this year’s cookie sales. Supremely annoying, outrageously petty, and totally legal. That would teach Blossom for sure.
“Place your hands here between the nipples.”
Some of the Cadette Girl Scouts giggled. To be fair, Blossom of all people saying the word nipples in reference to her former mortal enemy as she trained a room full of twelve-year-old girls in CPR using him as the dummy was a perfect storm of absurd and kinky that he did not see coming. And now he was giggling himself, because he was a teenaged boy who thought the word nipples was funny regardless of the very clear contextual cues, and that pubescent shame was on him, one hundred percent.
Blossom, an ancient and inconveniently attractive evil resurrected in a lab for the sole purpose of making his life miserable, did not appreciate his amusement. “Push hard at a rate of 100 to 120 compressions per minute. Remember to put your bodyweight behind it, like this.”
Brick flexed, and Blossom pushed against his heart like she was trying to crush it in her hands. Once, twice, three times she administered compressions, and Brick’s eyes glowed red with impotent rage.
“Assist Blossom with her CPR lessons to her satisfaction, and we can forget this ever happened,” Mayor Bellum had promised Brick when he lost his temper and blew up an (empty) ambulance. Butch didn’t need his Super stomach pumped no matter how much he drank, so the ambulance and the four-figure bill that came with it were completely unnecessary. This defense did not convince the mayor, however.
The promise of the bill forgiven and his record cleared—and the deterrence of Aiyeesha Simpson filming the whole thing to upload to YouTube later—gave Brick the strength not to eye beam Blossom in front of the children.
“Okay, who wants to try chest compressions on the dummy?” Blossom offered to the girls.
You evil bitch, thought the aforementioned dummy.
After the third little girl properly placed her sticky, little girl hands between his nipples, Brick had had enough. “Hey, I’m still dying over here. Can we move on already? Jesus Christ.”
“Of course.” Blossom smiled, and she had never looked more terrifying.
Brick hoped Butch was suffering. He hoped he was hung over so bad he couldn’t piss standing up. He hoped Butch tried going online only to find that Brick had disconnected the Internet and cut him off from all his online games and porn because fuck Butch and his weak-ass stomach.
“Who knows what the next step is? Maybe someone other than Aiyeesha this time?”
None of the other girls seemed willing to stick their hands up. The carpet under Brick had scorched where his power leaked out in his building resentment for this entire situation. The smell of burned polyester just made him feel even more powerless to stop this.
“No? Okay, well, remember the acronym. A is for airway. You want to be careful about a possible neck injury, so gently lift the chin…”
Blossom’s hands were not sticky like the Girl Scouts’ hands, but they were cold where they touched his skin and forced his head back.
“Are the paramedics here yet?”
Brick got a tight fist in his short hair for that one, and he considered it a small victory. “No. Something about a shortage of ambulances, apparently.”
Biiiiiiiitch.
God, he was going to destroy her so bad.
“Once you’ve cleared the airway and confirmed there are no obstructions—”
“Then you kiss!”
Some girls picked up the giggling again. Blossom, ever the professional, cleared her throat. “Mouth to mouth is a life-saving procedure and not something I’d recommend doing to someone you plan to kiss.”
Wow, great advice.
Some girls still giggled and whispered to each other. Brick had a sinking feeling that this was only going to end with his embarrassment: everyone knew that the cold judgment of pre-pubescent girls was the absolute worst type of judgment a person could suffer.
“Are you gonna show us?”
“Well, I don’t think I need to show you all how to breathe—”
“It’s in the manual! You have to demonstrate every step.” Aiyeesha waved the CPR manual, and Brick realized his misjudgment. She was no vapid goody two-shoes in the making, but a future Honors Student with a secret, a Work Hard Party Harder, an Ivy League Early Decision candidate with all of senior spring semester to slack off because no one was ever going to touch her 4.3 GPA.
Aiyeesha beamed a winning smile at Brick, and it was as chilling as Blossom’s.
Jesus Christ, there are two of them.
True to form, Blossom had never been able to defy a good instructions manual. “I suppose if it says so in the manual…”
Locking lips with Blossom was not a big deal. He’d done it before when they were kids, and he could appreciate the irony of a gesture meant to save his life this time rather than end it. She didn’t even try to mess with him by using her ice breath, just went through the motions as described in the instructions. The girls were disappointed with the lack of hormonal fanfare of it all, which was probably for the best. Leave it to Blossom to make mouth to mouth the sexless, medical act it was literally intended to be. He was almost upset, because it felt like she’d won something here, which could only mean he’d lost.
Disappointed but more educated than they’d been when they’d arrived two hours ago, the Girl Scouts dispersed after the lesson, leaving Blossom and Brick to put away the equipment they’d used.
She held a dummy torso, and she was looking at him with that pinched, constipated look she got when she was about to say something especially snobby. Instead, she surprised him. “Brick, thanks for being mature about it. I can honestly say you surprised me.”
He stared at her.
“I’ll talk to Mayor Bellum. I’m sure you’ve done enough to meet your hours quota.”
He had not fulfilled even half of his required community service hours and they both knew it.
“So yeah, thanks. I can finish up here if you want to leave.”
Was she trying to get rid of him? Why?
“Brick? Why are you looking at me like that?”
When Blossom was winning, he was losing. That was simply the way of the world. So, if she was losing, it could only mean he was winning.
“Are you listening to me?”
Brick smiled in what he hoped was a cool, sexy way if he imagined looking at anyone but Blossom. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying. I just keep thinking about how good that mouth feels.”
Blossom stared. “I’m sorry?”
He would make her sorry.
“Yeah, you’re a great teacher. I could really feel your passion for demonstrating the lesson correctly. With your mouth.”
Her staring intensified. “Did you.”
“Oh, yeah.” He leaned his hip against the table like he’d seen in the movies. It worked for Daniel Craig in Casino Royale, and that guy had convinced Eva Green. Iconic. “I could really feel you trying to save me.”
Where was Aiyeesha with her phone to film this? There was so little he could do to rattle Blossom as they got older, and while the challenge delighted him, it was also exhausting being constantly a step behind her. Was this truly her demise? Had he won the Teenage Experience? Was this poetic justice for how she’d once killed him with a mere kiss, only to suffer the same fate in turn? He could have cackled. This was better than trolling the Girl Scouts of America reviews, although he might still do that because it was a genius idea and he had always indulged his own genius ideas when they came to him.
So infatuated was he with his own self-fellating digression that he was slow to react to Blossom sidling up to him. Her hand was still cold on his chin, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “Shall I save you again?”
Brick’s dignity drained with his blood, which was an unfortunate side-effect of being a teenaged boy that he would just have to suffer. But winning was about recognizing one’s weaknesses and working around them. He leaned into her personal space. “Please.”
He wasn’t sure who kissed who first, but it was happening and all he could think was I am better at this than you and I hate you and also Do that again. He tried holding her waist, and she fought back with her fingers in his hair. Not one to be deterred, Brick tried some tongue but pulled back when he tasted thirty degrees below zero. He immediately went back in because he could feel her superiority, her Got you, you horny idiot, but the joke was on her because he liked her cold, always had when it was hot as balls out and he’d make up any excuse to pick a fight with her just for the chance to cool off.
The Girl Scout troop leader walked in on them competitively making out in the classroom like it was an Olympic sport and put an end to things, leaving them at a frustrating draw for now. They said barely a word to each other when Brick glared at the troop leader so bad she flustered and didn’t even question them before running out of there with some excuse about getting the wrong room.
Later that evening, Brick caved and changed the Internet password back just so Butch would quit whining at him. He Googled kissing techniques and spent the next hour and a half watching YouTube videos and reading GQ articles about How to Please Her Like a Champion, because he was a champion and a winner and he was not going to lose to Blossom in this. Not a chance.
This had to be what they meant when they said kill with kindness.
“I’m going to end you,” he muttered to himself as he read about the top ten highest voted movie kissing scenes, which he would then stream and commit to memory in order to be fully armed and armored for the next time he encountered Blossom alone in a classroom. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe during their shared free period.
Truly, he had the most genius ideas.
xxx
If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!
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thepaperpanda · 4 years
Text
The Bear and the Raven || Ragnar x reader x Rollo
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Summary: What will happen when the both brothers fall for you
Warnings: none
Words: 5166
Authors: Cass & Rouge
Request by: @porgsandtheirplace​​ OUR GIRL! ♥
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You loved to fight.
Violence and blood were your elements. The act that gave you strength to lead the quiet life back in the settlement when your shield and axe hung on the wall awaiting another big battle.
Even if so-called normal life wasn't your thing, what could you do.
Even as a Lothbrok's shield maiden you deserved the rest to recover from whatever injuries you suffered in the previous battle.
Of course you were lucky enough to be more than just another warrior ready to spill the blood at Ragnar's order.
You were his closest friend, his and his older brother's. Thanks to this privilege, your ordinary days were never boring.
Rollo was practicing with his ax when Bjørn came to ask him for dinner.
"Uncle, the feast is on, and the only person missing among us is you," man's nephew claimed. "Give us the honor of having you in the Great Hall."
Rollo Sigurdsson, son of Sigurd Hring, fearsome Viking warrior, with an impulsive streak, offered the younger man a brief nod of his head. "Need to wash the sweat and dirt first. Let them know I'll attend anytime soon."
Bjørn put his palm to uncle's shoulder. "My father will be glad to see you."
Rollo's glance followed Bjørn who walked away rapidly, rushing back to the feast.
Despite the bandages tightly wrapped around your chest and the general discomfort they as well as wounds brought, you joined the big feast.
You never planned to miss it, even if your legs would be broken beyond healing you would crawl by yourself to the Great hall to celebrate the successful raid.
"HERE SHE IS! AXE IN THE CHEST!," Ragnar yelled loudly, raising his horn as soon as he spotted you enter the building.
If he wasn't your friend you would turn around and simply leave but you only opened your arm and shrugged.
"THAT'S ME!”
Bjørn raised his curved horn as well. "Skål, Y/N!"
Despite Ragnar being his father and role model, Bjørn saw many things Lothbrok did. Including falling for women. Rganar's success with women was pretty impressive, but on the other hand it's hard to say no to him, he was the Earl after all. A very successful and influential.
One of the men gave you a filled horn and laughed at that.
Of course this would happen, your fellow warriors won't let you stay sober today. Maybe it's not such a bad idea. Your body is screaming from the amount of pain it took a few hours ago.
"Skål!," You said loudly, raising a horn at Ragnar and Bjørn's direction.
They all were your little family. Taking a big sip of your drink, you sat down next Ragnar's son and smiled.
"So! Ironside, huh? You made this old aunt proud!," You joked, nudging Bjørn in his side with your elbow.
Bjørn laughed, rolling his head back and hiccuping. "Old aunt? You're only 19 winters old which makes you younger than me," he reminded playfully while nudging your side. "Look! Rollo!"
As he promised his nephew, Rollo stepped in the Great Hall, wrapped in thick furs with his hair pinned in a bun.
You laughed and hissed when he nudged your side.
"Careful Bjørn, I don't have an ironside," you reminded him and smiled, seeing Rollo joining you.
As soon as older Lothbrok sat down, Ragnar wrapped arms around your and his son’s shoulders. "Well! And I was worried you two won't even come to celebrate our victory," he muttered, resting his head on your shoulder.
Rollo observed his brother with concern and cleared his throat before speaking.
"Thus celebrate, my brother!"
Rollo's gaze slipped from Ragnar to you and he fixed it on your eyes.
"My two best people," Ragnar said proudly, looking at you and his brother. "And my son!," He added, moving to Bjørn.
You watched this and giggled.
"I have a feeling he started celebrating way before the feast even started. Can I help you, Rollo?," You asked with a charming smile when you felt his gaze on you.
"You look pretty," the older man claimed and instantly slipped his glance off you, focusing on his chalice.
Bjørn cocked his brow and leaned forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. "You caught his eye."
Rollo downed his mead and nudged his brother's side. "You drunk already? Where's the princess?"
You giggled and patted Bjørn's head on your shoulder. "As much as I'd love that. I am afraid that your uncle is just nice because he is worried I will break his nose with my shield. Like I did during one training,"
"My dear wife is somewhere. Talking to her friends, if I can call them that," Ragnar shrugged, sitting down next to his brother.
"Oh, I remember that," He nodded, patting Rollo's shoulder. "Bjørn, your uncle didn't believe that Y/N could fight. We knew her for years but he was sure she was too weak, so he decided to fight her to prove he was right. He left the fight with a broken nose after meeting the rim of her shield up-close."
Rollo rolled his eyes and growled lowly at his brother's comment. "Would you skip that, brother? It's nothing to be proud of, to be so easily defeated by a woman. Being a woman is good on the battlefield, as they can easily get men distracted with their allures," Rollo stated, and took a bite of the roasted chicken leg.
Ragnar's son laughed loudly, rolling head back, which was a manner of his. "Admit it."
"Admit what?," Rollo frowned.
"She's as good at fighting as you."
"Ha!," Rollo rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Y/N is a good shield maiden but it's me who rock the ax like a Thor rocked Mjölnir.
You laughed but it was fake. Of course he wouldn't nice you in any other way than just a woman. They both wouldn't.
You worked your ass off to get good at what you are doing. Just to get attention from the Lothbrok brothers, you loved them both but apparently they didn't return the feelings.
"I mean, he is right. I am just a shieldmaiden. Just like all other women that fight.”
"Father, tell her something!," Bjørn demanded, slamming his fist on the table, making his chalice fall down and spilled his wine all over the counter.
Ragnar rolled his eyes and got up from his seat.
He walked to you from behind you and placed his hands on your shoulder.
"Our young Y/N is one of the best warriors I know. I am proud to have her fighting by my side," Earl announced and moved closer to your ear to whisper. "And I would be happy to have her by my side forever."
You choked on your drink and looked up at those beautiful, blue eyes. Blushing you nodded, biting your lips.
Rollo clenched hands in the fists under the table. Oh, how jealous he was getting whenever Ragnar treated you like his woman. The truth was you belonged to no one, you were a free woman.
Older Lothbrok knew too well that his brother was more successful and that you'd rather lay your eyes on Ragnar than him.
"Father's right," Bjørn admitted, nodding his head.
You smiled and nodded your head, flattered with all the words you just heard. There even was a slight blush on your cheek.
Finally you felt like all the effort was worth something, you only wished for Rollo to think the same. "Thank you, my friend. Your word are kind and flatter me a lot,"
"I hope they are because this is the truth," Ragnar patted your shoulder.
"I go now, I need to talk with others as well but please, Y/N. Come and find me later. I need to talk to you," he informed you before walking awal.
You let out a breath that you had no idea you were holding in.
Taking another sip of the drink your eyes traveled to Rollo, he looked angry.
"Rollo... Is everything alright? If it's about that silly shield story, I am sorry. I shouldn't say anything about it," you said softly, touching his shoulder.
"No, no, it's not about you, little thing," he assured softly, reaching his hand out to take his chalice, full again as Bjørn refilled it with wine. "Would you want to have a little walk with me? It's too crowded here."
Too crowded? Too crowded for Rollo?
Was it even really possible? Ever since you remember he loved to celebrate and to spend time with everyone else after a successful raid or fight.
Deeply confused you nodded your head with a little smile painted on your lips. "Of course, it will be a pleasure, Rollo."
He got up and walked outside of the Great Hall. He waited for you to join him.
You got up from your seat, smoothing your clothes.
Despite any pain you wanted to look the best. After all you still were a woman, you were a warrior behind the shield but back at home you were a delicate and beautiful creature or at least you hoped so.
"Oh... Fresh air," you let out a deep and smiled, looking up at Rollo.
He nodded, his steel blue eyes fixed on your figure as he looked down at you. "How do you feel? What about your wounds?"
Your arm wrapped around yourself and you shrugged.
"It's good I think. It hurts a lot actually but it's not the first nor last wound. I am used to it. Overall I am doing okay as you can see," you summed up. "How about you? How's the big, angry bear?"
He cocked his brow and chuckled softly at the sweet nickname you used on him. "I'm pretty good, even if I didn't kill as many Christians as I originally wanted to.'
"Don't worry, Rollo. Your brother will make sure that we spill more Christian blood as soon as possible,"
Patting his shoulder you decided to tease him little. "But I am sure I will kill more Chritians than you, Bear. I always do.”
He put his elbow on top of your head. "Hmmm, did anyone say something? I can't see. Is this a wind rumbling?"
You giggled and rolled your eyes. "Oh right, right I forgot. Forgive me Rollo Sigurdsson. You are the greatest warrior of them all, even Gods themselves should be afraid of your mighty ax! Better?"
Rollo simply patted the top of your head. "Much better."
Then, out of sudden, he cupped your cheeks, leaned down and stole a kiss from you.
You gasped, looking at him after he pulled away. What just happened?!
Of course you wanted this, oh so much but you never expected it to ACTUALLY happen.
"I... Rollo...," You blinked and bit your lips gently. "What... What did I do to deserve such an honor?
"I hate seeing my brother hitting on you," Rollo said simply, his thumb brushing soft skin on your cheek. "I hate when you make sweet eyes at him. I deserved you to buy mine," man replied, a deep, throaty sound of his tone vibrating through you.
Your cheek became red and warm under his touch.
This was almost everything you ever wanted, you gave him a shy smile not really sure of what to do now.
"THERE YOU TWO ARE!," Ragnar said happily, looking at you and Rollo. "And I was getting worried you got bored with the feast Y/N," He hummed and gently placed his hand right over your wounds. "Is everything okay with you? Are you in pain?"
You swallowed and shook your head.
"Ragnar," Rollo cleared his throat, "Don't you see, dear brother, that Y/N is speaking with me now? Maybe go and check upon Aslaug, huh?"
Ragnar smiled at and kissed the side of your head, relieved that you're doing just fine. His hands slid down and rested on your waist.
"Y/N is one of my warriors. As a Earl it's my duty to check on her, especially when she suffered the injuries she did," Earl said with a shrug, pulling you a little closer. "I saw Siggy looking and asking for you. I think your lover demands some attention from you, brother."
You looked Rollo and sighed, realizing that he was right. Siggy was always somewhere close. How you could even compare yourself to her.
"Just as much as princess Aslaug demands your attention," Rollo showed his perfectly shaped teeth in a wide, wry grin. "I understand that Earl needs to be frequently checking upon his loyal warriors but you can wait some time until I'll finish my businesses with her, right?"
Oh Gods. They were fighting. Fighting over you! You couldn't help but feel pride from this yet you felt scared as well. You loved both of them and didn't want them to fight when you knew that picking one of them will be impossible.
"Aslaug sits quietly in her room when your little toy walks around looking for you. As a Earl, I have my business with her as well," Ragnar growled.
Rollo smiled softly at you and then shifted aside, simply pushing Ragnar's shoulder.
"So wait. I was first. Let's behave like adults, not like savages!"
"I don't feel so good," you said, quickly getting their attention. "I... I think my body cannot take any more for today. I should return to my home and rest."
You didn't want to go and you felt just fine but knowing that they care about you, gave the opportunity to create the distraction from brotherly quarrel.
Ragnar looked at you with worry in those deep blue eyes. "Do you want me to escort you back?"
"I can walk you back to your hut as well, Y/N," Rollo offered immediately, his cold glance fell on his younger brother. "Whatever you wish, my dear."
"I.... I... Uhm," You didn't expect them to offer the escort and find another reason to fight. This wasn't planned at all but you had to somehow get away without a war.
Looking around you smiled seeing Bjørn leaving the building, he was for sure looking for his father and uncle. Oh he was a lifesaver not only on the battlefield.
"Bjørn! My friend, can I ask you for a little help. My wounds wear me off really quickly. Would you be so kind to help me get back to my home?"
Rollo, hearing you asking Bjørn to escort you back home, blinked a few times and snorted loudly.
Bjørn quickly joined the trio and rested his hands on hips, tilting head aside. "With pleasure," the young man offered his arm.
Ragnar didn't hide his surprise, looking at you with a soft frown to soon raise his eyebrows.
"Thank you, love. This is so kind of you," You nodded your head, linking arms with Raganr's son. "I am really sorry for making you leave the feast but I was afraid I won't make it back home alone," you said quietly, trying your best to sound weak.
"No problem, actually I left to find father and uncle," Bjørn replied softly and walked away with you, taking a sandy path leading to the hut of yours.
Rollo crossed his huge arms over his chest. "Are you happy? I hope you are. You shouldn't be called Earl but rather a mood killer," Bear pushed his side against Ragnar's.
Ragnar let out an annoyed laugh and returned to gesture at his brother.
"I did nothing. You were the one snarling like a hungry bear at his prey. Time to learn to be gentle with the woman, my brother," he summed up with a short shrug before patting Rollo's shoulder. "Just so you know. She will be mine to warm my bed."
With those words Ragnar gave his older brother one last smile before going back inside.
"Dick!," Rollo called after his brother.
Meantime, Bjørn walked you home and stopped in front of your little hut. "You're safe now but I have a strong feeling within me you did it on purpose, Y/N."
"I had to run away so the Raven and Bear won't rip me apart in a fight between them," You told him honestly letting out a sigh of relief that you somehow got away from that crazy situation.
"Mmmm, the situation is far more complicated as I can see, isn't it?," He chuckled and ruffled your hair a little. "I've suspected for some time that there is something going on between you and my father. Aslaug caught him staring at you too many times."
You laughed awkwardly and nodded.
"Trust me. I felt his as well as hers on me all the time," sighing deeply you rubbed your face and smiled at him.
"Go now. Celebrate for both of us, ok? I'll just lie down and rest.”
"Are you sure? I'm not certain if I should leave a little shield maiden alone. She might get herself harmed," Bjørn joked and smoothly shifted aside, avoiding the blow you aimed with your fist.
You laughed softly.
"I promise to be a good shield maiden and go to bed so I won't hurt myself. Is it enough for Bjørn ironside?"
He offered the nod. "Enough for me to leave you by your own. Good night."
After these words he walked back into the direction of Great Hall.
You smiled and shook your head, getting inside. Slowly you lied down in the bed, nuzzling to the pillows and furs you placed there. Finally there is peace and quiet. After hours of thinking about everything; the brothers, the kiss, the fight and Rollo's words you finally drifted into sleep.
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Few days passed.
You stayed away from Ragnar and Rollo, too busy with taking care of your house and wounds not wanting them to get any worse.
There were a lot of thoughts in your head, you kept thinking about the night of the feast. You needed a way to somehow be with both or just be alone.
"How are you doing today! Ready for me to look at those beauties?," Your friend the healer asked happily.
Rolling your eyes you groaned. "I need to be," you chuckled. "Let's get to it."
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Rollo was pretty surprised as you stopped talking with him. But, thankfully, you hadn't been talking with Ragnar either.
The Bear decided to pay you a visit, to speak with you about his feelings. Rollo even thought about stealing one of the necklaces they brought from the raid in Mercia, and he did.
Luckily, his brother didn't notice one missing item, or at least pretended.
Rollo walked out of settlement and headed right to your hut. He was about to walk closer, but he stopped' you weren't alone.
You hissed at the feeling of bandages being peeled off of your wounds. The healer tired her best to work carefully with you.
"Have you ever been in love?,” You asked suddenly, looking at your friend.
"Oh! With many, too bad they did not return the feeling or return at all?," She shrugged with a smile.
You rolled your eyes.
"Have you ever been in love with two men? Brother to be exact?"
The healer stopped whatever she was doing and looked at you with a smug smile.
"Oh! You love Ragnar and his brother don't you.”
Your face went red and she laughed loudly.
It was stupid idea to even start such a topic with your friend.
"You know, just finish your work. I still have stuff to do."
Rollo stiffened, all of his muscles tensed at your words and your creed. Were you truly in love with him and Ragnar at the same time?
Not being sure what to do, Rollo decided to get back to the settlement to meet with his younger brother. It couldn't wait.
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Bjorn was playing with his younger siblings as he spotted Rollo rushing through the path. "Uncle! You're running like you've got the devil on your tail."
"Have you seen your father?"
"He went back to the Great Hall, he was mentioning baths or something."
Rollo nodded his head briefly and headed to the house of Ragnar.
Meantime Raganr was relaxing while submerged in nice warm water. It was perfect. No kids, no wife, no people with stupid questions or needs. At least it was like that until Rollo walked in.
"I am busy, brother... What do you want?"
Rollo made sure to close the door right behind him before he stepped further in the chamber. "I'm coming to speak to you about our dear Y/N."
Ragnar raised his eyebrows and laughed softly, opening his eyes to look at his brother. "She liked the necklace? But taking the fact you are here it means that the trinket didn't woo her into your bed. What a shame.”
"It's not about that, brother," he scoffed Ragnar's words. "Yes, I took the necklace to gift her with it, don't forget that I was in Mercia with you and I deserved a cut. I distinctly remember you saying that every warrior will get a piece of the treasure. But it's not about that," Rollo simply grabbed the nearest chair and flopped on it. "I visited her today. At least, I tried but she wasn't alone, her healer friend visited her first. But I think I have information you might be interested in."
Ragnar rolled his eyes and moved closer to the edge of the wooden washtub he was sitting in.
"Oh really? Is the little shield maiden a spy of some kind?,”
Rollo shook his head for no.
Then he also leaned forward, resting his hands on the edge of the washtub, to get closer to his younger brother. "She claimed she loves me but you as well."
Ragnar blinked and looked at his brother with the eyebrows raised high.
"Well, that would explain her great escape with Bjørn when we were at each other’s throat because of her," He hummed, scratching his beard.
"Exactly," the older brother agreed quickly. "What are we going to do about this now, though?"
Ragnar thought for a moment then he looked at Rollo.
"Well, since she loves you and me... We could share. She can't decide, I don't think she will mind having us both at the same time,” he shrugged.
"What about Siggy and Aslaug? They'll go mad once they learn about such an idea."
"Siggy isn't my problem, she is not your wife as far as I remember. You can take care of this yourself, I always can take Y/N all for myself if Siggy stops you," Raganr teased with a shrug. "I can take care of my own wife, she will be soon relieved of the title anyway."
Rollo pretended he didn't hear Ragnar's nast comments about him and Siggy. "When then? I won't lie, I won't wait."
"You never were the patient one. Very well! Let me dress and we will go to her," Ragnar said, getting up from the washtub.
Rollo cringed a little while seeing his brother's naked form but grinned at the same time. "I'm lucky to at least be bigger in some other matters than ruling the settlement."
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Rollo knocked to your door strongly.
"Y/N, it's me, open the door, I know you're there!"
"We need to talk with you. It's an important matter," Ragnar also knocked at your door.
You freeze with a dress and a needle in your hands.
WHY WERE THEY HERE?! You didn't invite them or had any important stuff to discuss with the brothers.
With your internal dilemma you didn't want them here. You are just going to pretend you aren't home, they will go away.
Rollo aimed a strong blow to his younger brother's shoulder. "Shut up," he hissed quietly. "I told you that I'll do the talking, all you had to do was to stay quiet but as we can see you can't even follow the most easy plan."
Ragnar returns the action.
"I am in charge here. I always am so better behaved, Bear," he growled.
You listened to them and facepalmed.
Letting out a deep sigh you got up from the chair to open the door.
"Because of such a behavior I was ready to pretend I am not here,"
Rollo instantly slipped his foot between door frame and door to prevent you from closing them. "Hi, Y/N, we have to talk.”
You nodded your head and opened the door fully for them, inviting them inside.
"Come in then, can I get you anything? Drink? Food?"
"I'll pass," Rollo replied and smoothly slipped into your hut, instantly taking a seat at your chair. "Mmmm, cosy," he commented casually while looking around your place
This felt strange, just seeing both of them in your stomach twist. In a pleasant way of course but still.
You looked at them and smiled.
"I'll pass as well," Ragnar said and decided to sit down on your bed. "You had to do the talking. I am listening."
Rollo gave him a dead glance, and shifted his eyes at you. "Is there anything you'd like to share with us? Feelings, concerns?"
You shrugged and played with your hands nervously.
"No, I honestly have no idea what you are talking about Rollo."
Rollo gave you the look you knew too well. He wasn't the idiot. "Y/N, just to make the situation clear, I've heard your talk with the healer today."
Your face went completely red when you realized what it means.
Rollo knew what meant that Ragnar knew now too.
"I... I am sorry if this offended you or your brother in any way. I just, I really can't pick. Both of you are just wonderful men."
Rollo exchanged glances with Ragnar and chuckled. "It’s fine, don't worry, no one here is mad at you."
Ragnar got up from his comfy seat and walked to you.
"Actually we think the complete opposite when it comes to the whole situation,' He said quietly and placed hands on your cheeks before crushing his lips against yours.
You let out a surprised squeak but kissed him back, grabbing his wrists to brace yourself as you felt your knees going weak.
Rollo stiffened seeing his brother stealing a kiss from your lips; he wanted to this as well but his blood turned cold at the sight. "I beg your pardon?"
Ragnar pulled away with a chuckle and shook his head.
"Don't be offended, brother. Please, help yourself," he gestured at you.
Biting your lips you smiled. "Come here,"
Rollo wasn't sure if the thing he was about to do was good. For the first time in his lifetime he hesitated with a woman.
You watched Rollo for a moment and then walked closer to cup his cheek. "Whatever you heard today. It was all true, I love you and your brother in the same way," you whispered and kissed him gently.
Ragnar rolled his eyes at the sudden softness of his brother and decided to pour himself a cup of whatever drink was standing on your table.
Rollo offered the kiss back, slowly slipping his tongue past your lips. It danced slightly with yours as he cupped your cheek with one hand and simply slipped the other one to give your ass a harsh squeeze.
You moaned into the kiss, letting him dominate it.
"Careful Rollo or you will eat her alive." Ragnar muttered looking inside the cup.
Rollo soon let go off you, licking his lips.
You looked at him and giggled, stroking his cheek.
"I am so happy you don't hate me for this."
Raganr chuckled and gently pulled you back on Rollo's laps so he could kiss you as well. He pulled away as soon as he needed to catch his breath.
"It's hard to hate you, Y/N."
"My brother is right," Rollo agreed easily. "You're a good warrior, a decent and beautiful woman," the man claimed while putting his palms to his thick belt.
"And we will have plenty of time to discover what else you are so good," Ragnar summed up. "I suggest we don't trouble her too much tonight, brother. At least until her wounds heal fully,"
"But once the wounds heal...," Rollo came closer and gently wrapped his hand around your neck, "Then we will have to train her a little, am I right, brother?"
"Oh yes. Our little shield maiden will have to learn a lot of new things. Not necessarily combat related but still really useful," Ragnar hummed, kissing behind your ear.
You meowed at their touch.
It all was finally happening. Gods listened to you and your dreams came true.
"For now let's hope her bed can have all three of us. I bet her tired body would appreciate some gentleness,” Earl added.
Rollo laughed. "I take place from the wall."
And after these words he simply flopped off the bed which let out a cracking sound under his weight.
You cringed at the sound but smiled softly when you realized it didn't break.
Gladly you climbed into bed and placed one more kiss on Rollo's lips while Ragnar joined the two of you, wrapping his arm around your waist carefully.
You turned and kissed him as well before getting comfortable between them.
Rollo offered you his stretched arm. "Comfy?," He asked after you placed your head on him. His second hand rested on your hip.
"Don't be too greedy, brother. I am here as well," Other man muttered and nuzzled to your back, hugging you tightly.
You only smiled.
"I couldn't be happier. Two men I love dearly are here with me," You hummed, slowly drifting away into slumber.
Rollo brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear.
As you fell asleep, he looked at Ragnar. "Do you think we can handle it? Sharing one woman?"
"Why not? We are brothers, I am used to sharing with you," Ragnar shrugged. "If we want to make her happy we need to handle it somehow."
Rollo nodded and put his head to yours. "Yeah. That's true. I hope this will easily work out as I remember us fighting dearly about women.”
Ragnar nodded.
"Just so you know. I fuck her first and away from you," he added quickly.
"In your fucking dreams, Ragnar," Rollo smirked wryly, whispering. "I'll be the first one.'
"It's settled then, Bear. We'll see who will get into her pants first," Ragnar dared with a smile.
Rollo rolled his eyes a little with a consternation in his glance. "I'm older. Older people take precedence over younger people."
"I am Earl. I take precedence over everyone," he said proudly.
"I swear to Gods will you two keep your mouth shut and try to sleep or I need to kick you out of the bed?," You muttered annoyed.
Rollo scoffed loudly and remained quiet, closing his eyes and nestling with you.
Ragnar rolled his eyes and nuzzled to your shoulder before closing them.
"Much better. You two can be quiet," you joked.
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372 notes · View notes
20moonchild21 · 4 years
Text
𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 [𝗯𝘁𝘀]
⇉ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 5
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[pairings]
JK x female!oc, Jin x female!oc, bunny!JK x human!oc, leopard!Jin x human!oc, JK x female!oc x Jin
[warnings]
mentiones of abusement, injuries, injured Jin, traumatized Jin and JK, suffering, angst, mentiones of feeling guilty, too much fluff
[words]
4.3k
[author]
I am so excited to finally add Jin properly to the story. I really hope you like the new chapter. The next update will next Sunday, because I am still stuck in my exam period.
Also, if you are looking for some other Hybrid!Bts au stories, I have a few pretty good recommendations for you.
My personal favorite is Inferiority complex written by @starlightauroras-writes. Please check out her story and leave a lot of likes. Her story s amazing!🥰
Don’t forget to also check out my other recommendations that I linked below that chapter.
Of you have any criticism or recommendations or other wishes, there is no need to be afraid to write me. I am open for any kind of messages as long as they are constructive! Don’t forget to like and leave a comment, so I know I can continue!
Also, thank you for all the likes and cute messages you left under the other chapters. It always makes me happy!
By the way, did you watch JK‘s livestream yesterday? He actually read out my comment, and I swear my heart exploded. Best moment in my life🙏🏼🙈🤤
Stay healthy and safe!
Mꨄ
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[chapter 4 ||| chapter 6]
„Is he going to be okay, Hope?” Jungkook whispered, tears still spilling out of his eyes, as he watched his brothers injured upper body lying on the couch in Hope’s apartment.
Once the trio had arrived there, the girl immediately had taken off Jin’s shirt and tried to medicate his injuries. He had several bruises along his ribcage. Hope palpated over them, and finally came to the decision that luckily, that he had no inner bruises or broken bones.
But his scratched were another thing. Some were already starting to heal, but others were deep and looked infected. The girl carefully cleaned them all up with a wet clothe. Every time the wet fabric made contact with the open flesh, she would feel his muscles twitching under her touch. He must feel so much pain. When she was done, she opened her fits aid kid and covered all the deeper cuts up with fresh bandages, so they would catch other infections.
She soaked the cloth again with water, and drove it over the sleeping boy’s face, whipping off all the dust, sweat and dirt. Beside the scratches and bruises, Jin had a really beautiful face. With his plump lips slightly parted, and his deep brown eyes closed, he truly looked like a sleeping beauty.
“Yes, Kookie.” She sighed, as she threw her dirty cloth away. “He is going to be okay. We will keep an eyes on his injured so they won’t get infected again.”
She stood up from the ground, taking all the used supplied with her into the kitchen, where she disposed them in the trash can. For a short moment, she closed her eyes and leant forward onto the counter edge, trying to process the day.
Who could have told her almost three weeks ago, that her world would turn upside down from one second to another?
Studying law, she had read many cases from abused and misused Hybrids. She had read them back and forth, up and down, trying to imagine their how they must feel. But nothing she had read could compare with reality.
Reality had hit her hard since she had seen the real suffering in this world. In the past, she wanted to stand up for Hybrid law, because she thought that they were disadvantaged in this society. But now, now she wanted to stand up for them, because they were suffering in this society. Suffering from the species that called themselves human.
But right now, she could do nothing but being there for those two Hybrids. She had no other choice. She turned around and wated to go back into the living room, when the scenario she saw made her stop in her tracks.
Jin was still lying peacefully on the couch, his chest was rhythmically falling up and down. Jungkook kneeled in front of the couch, so he could be at the same level as the sleeping boy. His hand was still holding Jin’s, as he had pushed himself further up, with his head buried into the creak of Jin’s neck and shoulder. He was slowly moving and rubbing his head along the sensitive skin, spreading his scent all over his brother.
Among Hybrids, scenting was one of the most intimate ways of showing his affection to one another.
The girl stayed silence in the kitchen, just watching how carefully and lovely Jungkook was threatening his brother. She absolutely didn’t want to ruin that moment between those two.
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Jungkook spent the whole evening running around the apartment, making sure that Jin was okay. He got him some more blankets to cover his shaking body, pillows to make sure that he head was stable, he made him warm tea, that we always ended up drinking himself, because Jin was still sleeping.
It took the girl much to convince him to at least leave the couch and eat dinner with her at the table, but when his stomach growled loudly, he eventually showed insight and left the sofa.
“Jungkook, he is fine. “ He ripped his gaze away from his brother on the couch. “Come on, I bet Jin would want you to eat your food.”
Jungkook sighed loudly, ears hanging weakly at the side of his head. How could he eat peacefully, when he knew that his brother went through hell and back since his escape. If he just had stayed there, with is old owners, Jin would have never been treatened so badly. But he also would have never met Hope.
He looked up from his plate, just to see the girl looking at him worriedly. She seemed to be often concerned about him. He saw the way she would ask him if he was okay, or how she would tell him to eat enough when he said he wasn’t hungry, or how she would cry and try to conform him the night he broke down.
He didn’t mind though. Never, in his life someone had been worried about him. She gave him anything: a bed to sleep, foot to eat and just a place to feel safe and….home. Even though he had only known her for a little more than three weeks, he felt like this was the place where he belonged.
But even though he was happy she allowed him to live with her, there was also this other voice in his mind. The voice that always reminded him that he was only a guest in her house. And every guest had to leave at some point.
A shiver ran down his spine. He feared the day she would come to him and tell him that he and Jin had to leave. Where would they go? Would they have to go back to their old owners?
No, they were not their old owners. They still were their owners. And this meant that they would have to go back to them. He would never lay in his soft bed again. He would never read in his favourite book again, the one with this little daws and Hobbits. He would never look at the photo wall again, wishing that there was a phot of him and the girl, too.
“What is going on in your pretty little head?” Hope had carefully laid her hand on top of his, a small smirk played on her lips. “I can see your mind racing.”
“I just –“ He wanted to tell her his concerns, but he decided against it. Today was not the day he wanted to hear that they had to leave. “I just – thought about that Jin might be hungry. He looks pretty thin.”
“But he is asleep right now.” She squeezed his hands a little bit. “But as soon as he wakes up, he can eat as much as he wants, okay?”
The Hybrid forced out a small smile and nodded his head. He would just try to enjoy the time that he had left.
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After dinner, Jungkook had gone straight back to the couch, curling up beside his brother. Not once this day had done anything else, besides lying next to Jin and waiting for him to wake up. It was cute to watch though. Jungkook had a big heart, and the girl knew that he wished for nothing more than to just get the love back he gave to others.
Earlier, when the witch had told her, that they had given Jungkook up for adoption, Hope had felt a giant stone falling from her heart. She had feared that they would still be looking for him, wanting him back at all it costs.
But with he being free to be adopted, she could sign his papers while re-registering Jin. Even though she had his papers and deed of ownership, she needed to report her adoption to an authority. But she wanted to wait for Jin to fully wake up before she would do so. After all, she didn’t know if he or Jungkook even wanted to be adopted again.
She couldn’t offer them a luxury life. She would first had to make herself a name in the lawyer business, which will take a lot of time, because Hybrid lawyer often don’t get much appreciation. But don’t matter what the both of them will decide, she would have to accept their wishes, even though it would break her heart.
With the bunny Hybrid in her apartment, it was the first time in years that she felt truly happy again. Since her mother had died and her friend moving away for college, she had felt alone in her life. There had been no one to wait for her until she came home from college or work, or someone with whom she could talk at the dinner table.
She truly enjoyed the time with the Hybrid.
She sighed, as she looked over to the sofa, where Jungkook was still curled up next to Jin, reading his favourite book. She smiled when she thought about his fascination with the Hobbits. He had found that book a few weeks ago, while scanning through her book shelf.
He had told her every day what happened in the book, and though she knew the plot of the book back and forth, she listened to everything he told her. Once he had been done with reading through the book, he just read it from the start again, not even thinking about tying another one.
“I think I will go to bed earlier. “ She said, as she made her way over to the sofa, holding a mug with Jungkook’s favourite tea in her hands. “I am pretty tired.”
The bunny looked up from his book. He watched her putting the mug on front of him at the small table, before she took a seat next to him at the sofa.
“Can I – “ Jungkook hesitated for a moment, before he began to speak again. “Can I sleep on the sofa tonight with Jin Hyung. I don’t want to let him alone. What if he wakes up and don’t knows where he is. Or if he –“
“Jungkook.” The girl stopped him, smiling slightly. “Of course you can sleep here. Shall I get your blanket and pillow?”
He quickly nodded, as a small shade of red began to spread over his cheeks. Hope stood up and walked over into his room. Jungkook was a very tidy and organized Hybrid. He made his bed every morning, every piece of clothes in his drawer was exactly folded and stacked up and he even had managed to organize her storage room, the so called ‘Chamber of secrets’, which she had failed to clean up for several years.
(Do you know on which scene from TBBT I am referring to? I love it :D)
She made her way over to the bed, carefully taking the blanket and pillow into her arms, trying to not carry it to close to her body, so her scent wouldn’t be all over it. A smile played on her lips, as she remembered the day when Jungkook insisted on washing Brian’s clothes, because he didn’t like to smell another male on his clothes.
When she turned around to go back to the living room, her eyes caught something on the Hybrid’s desk. Next to desk lamp laid the notebook she gave to Jungkook a few weeks ago. It wasn’t closed like, the open page pointing upwards.
She didn’t want to invite his privacy, but when she saw the sketched lines from the distance, she got curious. She often had wondered whether he was writing or sketching in there, when she watched his hands sliding wildly over the pages.
Hope took a few steps closer, looking back at the door to make sure Jungkook wouldn’t catch her looking at his private things. When she bent over the small back, her heart skipped a beat.
Jungkook had indeed sketched something. The lines were soft and accurate, taking all the space the page could offer. The picture had been drawing from the perspective when sitting at the dining table, the place where the bunny sometimes sat while she worked on her computer.
In the background, she recognized her kitchen, with the white fridge and the small hatch, and in the font ground she saw herself sitting. She was amazed by the precision he had drawn her hair falling over her shoulder and the feature of her face looking concentrated at the laptop in front of her.
Next to the her in the picture, he had written 4 capital letters. The letters were messy and scrawly, but she could read them without problems: 卄口ㄗモ
The girl’s heart swell with love. He had drawn her into his notebook, the place where he kept the deepest thoughts of his mind.
With the proudest smile on her face, she made her way back into the living room. She carefully placed the blanket over and pillow next to Jungkook, before she made her way over to Jin one last time, checking if he was okay.
When she was sure that everything was fine, she made her way over to the front door to turn off the great light in the room. The small lamp next to the TV was now the only source diving the room with cosy and warm light, just enough that Jungkook could still read his book.
“Good night Jungkook. Don’t read too long, you need your sleep.” She walked up behind him and bent down.
With her all braveness bundled, she pressed a short kiss on the top of his fluffy hair, before bending back up. Luckily, the room was dark enough to hide her reddening cheeks, as Jungkook looked up. He closed his small book, laying it to the side.
“Thank you for saving my brother.” He whispered, as he took her hands in his bigger one, squeezing them slightly.
“Anytime.“
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When she woke up the next morning, the flat was unusually quiet. Normally, she was woken up by the dull tones of Jungkook’s boxing gloves hitting his punching bag. He would always wake up before her, already finishing his morning workout. She wondered every day, where he took his motivation from, but she didn’t mind though.
She changed into comfortable clothes, and carefully made her way up into the living room, trying to be as quiet as possible, in cases both Hybrids were still sleeping on the sofa. She tippy-toed through the hallway and peeked around the corner.
Jungkook was sprawled out on his back. He had his legs spread, and he blanket was only covering half his body, making his left leg stick out and hanging loosely off of the sofa. With his arms lying beside his head to either side, and his mouth slightly parted, and ears laying loosely on the sofa, he looked like someone had shot him.
Hope smiled at this scene in front of her, slightly shaking her head. It was nice to see how safe and comfortable he felt around here. She moved her gaze away from the bunny, and looked over to the other Hybrid lying on her couch. To her surprise, her eyes met big, brown orbs looking back at her.
“Good morning, Jin.” She said softly, as she went around the corner.
She tried to make her voice as smooth and warm as possible, showing him that she didn’t want to put any harm on him or Jungkook, after all, he didn’t know how happy Jungkook had been over the last weeks.
Jin, however, didn’t reply. His ears were pressed flat against his head, as he kept looking sceptically at the girl, before his gaze fell onto his naked upper body, that was half covered by a blanket.
“We had to take your shirt of yesterday.” The girl quickly said, knowing exactly what was going on in his head. “You have some pretty infected injures. I just wanted to wrap them up. I hope this was okay?”
He hesitated at first, but eventually nodded as a small shade of red covered his cheeks. He pulled the blanket, that had slide down his torso, up a little bit higher. It was obviously embarrassing for him to lay half naked on her couch.
“I think Jungkook wouldn’t mind borrowing you one of his shirts.” She quickly said. “I will get one for you.”
She turned around and got the shirt from Jungkook’s drawer, before going back and giving it to Jin. He carefully reached out and took the piece of hands out of her hands.
“I will just go and make some breakfast.” She was about to leave, before something came into her mind. “You can try waking up Jungkook. He wouldn’t want to miss eating his flakes.”
She made her way into the kitchen and started to prepare the breakfast as she always did each morning. Sometimes, she would hear some deep voices coming from the living room. Jungkook seemed to be awake by now.
“Kook, is it really safe here?” She heard Jin asking, as she was about to get the milk out of the fridge.
“It is, Hyung. Hope is the nicest girl in the world. She even gave me my own room and…” He kept rambling about the most normal things in the world, which made the girl even sadder. He shouldn’t be this exited to have his own bed to sleep in. She sighed and turned her attention back to the fried egg in the pan, before she heard Jungkook’s cracking voice“…I – I really missed you, Hyung. I thought that – that they – “
“Shh. It’s okay, Kook.” Jin whispered back. “I only wanted you to be safe.”
Hope gulped in the kitchen. She knew how much it hurt to loose someone you love. But she didn’t want to imagine how it must feel to not know if someone you love is dead or barely alive and tortured to death.
She waited another 5 minutes, making sure that she would not interrupt the moment, before she carried the pan into the dining room. Jungkook was just pulling away from hugging Jin , before he stood up and stretched his arms into the air, as well as his ears.
“Did you sleep well, Kookie?” The girl asked amused, as she pulled her chair back and took a seat.
Jungkook helped Jin up from the sofa, and led him the way over to the table by holding his hand. He pulled himself his chair back and sat down as well, gesturing for Jin to sat down, too.
“It’s okay.” The bunny said, as he saw Jin’s hesitation. “You can sit down and eat with us.”
Jin’s eyes flicked from Jungkook over to the girl, waiting for her to give him permission. Hope smiled softly at him, as she placed her mug back down and nodded at the standing boy. Jin hesitated again, before he carefully took a seat beside Jungkook, eyes never left the girl to make sure he didn’t do anything wrong.
“Do you want to try those flakes?” Jungkook held his bowl directly under Jin’s nose.
The older boy was clearly overwhelmed by the whole situation. His ears kept wildly twitching around, as he sniffed at the bowl, looking confused and scared at the same time.
“No.” He whispered, sinking his head down.
“But you must be hungry, Hyung!” Jungkook had placed his bowl back down in front of himself.
He was asking Jin all over again if he wanted to eat something and why he refused to eat something, but Jin just shook his head every time.
“Jungkook, don’t force him to eat something.” Jungkook dropped his ears but nodded, turning his attention to his own bowl, while the girl spoke now into Jin’s direction. “Jin, you don’t have to eat something if you don’t want to, but you are free to eat whenever and whatever you like. You don’t need to ask for my permission either. Just – do what makes you happy.”
Jin looked at her with wide eyes, still trying to figure out if she was serious or not. He nodded shyly, before he looked at the munching bunny next to him. Jungkook smiled with his mouth closed, before reaching over towards his orange juice. He lifted the glass and gestured for Jin to take it.
Jin’s eyes flicked towards the girl once again, but she avoid his gaze on purpose, pretending to be busy with her toast. With the slowest movement, Jin reached out for the glass, taking it out of Jungkook’s hand. He looked at it, before placing it on his lips.
While he drank, his eyes kept flickering between his brother and the girl, watching every movement form both of them closely. After his glass was empty, he carefully sat it back down on the table. Though he kept his gaze down, Hope saw his eyes flickering over to slices of bread lying in the small basket.
“You can take the bread, Jin.” As soon as she spoke his head shot up, as if he was caught doing something bad. “There is more than enough for the three of us.”
Jungkook confirmed her offer with a quick nod, and eventually, Jin reached his hand out to take a slice of bread. Though he refused to put something onto his bread, Hope was glad he eat something after all.
Breakfast went over without any other incidents. Jin kept munching at his bread, while the girl carefully introduced herself, telling him about her life like she did when she met Jungkook. Jin didn’t reply, he nodded from time to time, but stayed silent.
The only time he actually responded, was when she mentored how she had found Jungkook and taken him in. His ears dropped down onto his head.
“Thank you for saving Jungkook.” He had whispered, before bowing his head slightly.
Once they were done eating, Hope told Jungkook to give Jin a small tour while she would do the dishes. The bunny was more than eager to show his older brother everything in the house. He grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the table.
Hope watched with shaking head, as Jungkook dragged the confused boy into his own room, where she could hear him rambling nonstop about every little detail.
She turned her attention back towards the dishes in the sink. Later that say, she would have to call the authority, to make an appointment for re-registering Jin and signing Jungkook’s adopting papers, of course only if both of them will agree.
She didn’t want to bring the topic up this early. Jin had been here for not even one day. It would be hard for him to decide if he wanted to stay or not, and Jungkook would probably make the same decision as his brother, because he didn’t want to be separated from him again.
This meant she would set the appointment in about 1 week. Hopefully, this would be enough time for Jin to at least trust her enough.
“….And this is the photo wall.” She turned around and looked at Jungkook, who was still holding Jin’s hand. “This is my favourite wall of the entire apartment. I look at the photos every morning or when I am bored….”
She watched as she took a step closer, looking interested at the different photos. Hope honestly didn’t know why Jungkook was so fascinated about the photos hanging on the wall. Sometimes, she would watch him how he sat in front of that wall for over 30 minutes, just staring at the photos.
It was adorable thought. The picture surprise for his birthday was a good idea.
“….And this is Hope at her graduation party. Look, she was one of the best students in her year. She is so smart. And this is Hope and her mom at her mom’s birthday. But her mom died a few years ago. Hope is very sad about this, because she said her mom was the best mom in the world. And this are Hope’s friends from High School…..” Jungkook kept rambling about every single picture, talking about them as if they were the most precious things in the world.
Jin was still staring at the pictures, giving Hope the chance to watch his profile. He was as tall as Jungkook, but definitely slimmer than him. He had shaggy brown hair, that fell smoothly over his forehead. At the top of his head set a pair of fluffy, black, brown and white ears, that twitched back and forth.
It was just now, that the girl actually saw Jin’s tail. Since he was a Leopard, his tail was much longer. It reached about the almost the middle of his calves. It was covered with fluffy fur and black stripes all over.
She broke her staring when she noticed Jungkook finishing his monologue, not wanting to make her new guest uncomfortable.
“Hope!” Jungkook came running up excitingly at the girl when he saw her standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Where did this boy take his energy from all the time? “Jin-Hyung likes my room very much. I thought that he might can share my room with me?”
Hope wasn’t surprise by this question. She could tell that both of them were really close, even if she hadn’t known both for long.
“I – ehm – I can also sleep on the fl – “ Jin’s cheeks were covered in red, as he stuttered about sleeping on the floor.
“It’s okay, Jin.” The girl quickly interrupted him. “You can sleep wherever you want to sleep. If you want to share a room with Jungkook, that’s fine by me. There are also 2 more empty bedrooms, so if you change your mind, you can also sleep in there. It’s your choice.”
“Please, share a room with me, yeah?” Jungkook was squeezing and tugging Jin’s hand, begging him to sleep in his room.
“Okay, I – I will share.”
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Text
Still The One - Harry Styles Mini Series (Part 1)
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*Kinda a companion to my series Outside the Rain... basically I didn’t like where I took that series, so I’m “starting over” with this one. It’s a bit of a flash forward about a year or so after where that series left off. You don’t necessarily have to read that series first, but you certainly can. 
I chose the title Still the One based on both song by the band Orleans and Shania Twain because I love both of these songs and I think both fit with where I’m going with this... hopefully. And... One Direction had a song by the same name too... so why not. 
**
“Like a cigarette without a light...like a whippoorwill without the night… a broken buzz that’s lost it’s high, oh baby that’s what I feel like,” you sang softly as you strummed the strings of your guitar.
You wrote down the lyrics into your journal. You had been itching to put this song… your feelings down on paper and you finally got around to doing it. Even though it was something you wanted, needed to do, it was also something that made everything you were feeling real.
It had been well over six months since you and Harry had ended your relationship. Technically, it was worded as a break, but it ended up being an actual breakup. Things had been going fine for the most part, but then 2020 happened and it all became too much. So, naturally, you pushed him away to the point neither of you were happy anymore. You even pushed your friends, the girls in the band you just reunited with, away.
Pushing people away, especially those you are closest with has always been your downfall. Whenever you’re feeling down or sometime of way, you rather deal with it alone because you don’t want to risk bringing down someone else. So, you just… push them away until they don’t want to bother with you anymore. Or they give you an ultimatum and you don’t choose them.
Which is exactly what happened with both relationships. Everything had been going great for you at the time. Your band was back together after you all took some time for solo projects and the fans were looking forward to you going on tour. But then, you injured your knee, putting the upcoming tour in jeopardy, which caused a rift between you and the girls. And it only got bigger and worse from there.
When it came to your love life, you were the happiest you’ve been in a long time. You met your ex, Harry Styles, at the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame, when you both performed and introduced Stevie Nicks that night. You and Harry had quickly hit it off and with the help of some nudging from your good old Aunt Stevie, you two got together. And you fell fast and hard.
And that’s exactly when things took a turn. With your knee injury, Harry had agreed to stay with you to help you out, but it was also around the same time that he had his own things he needed to do. You felt as if you were holding him back. Then there was a little mishap over an old photo, which eventually got resolved, but it also brought up some feelings that scared you.
So, with the mix of those two that then carried over into the hot mess of 2020, your abort mission instincts kicked it and well… now you’re in the exact place you had wanted all those months ago.
Suffering alone with a broken heart. Just when one injury fully healed, you brought another one upon yourself and honestly you didn’t know which one was worse.
You wrote half of the song when you finally couldn’t take it anymore. You had to stop and walk away. You put down your guitar, closed your journal, and went out to your balcony. You took deep breaths as you soaked up the remainder of the sunlight as the sun started to set and let the wind caress you.
All it would take is for you to pick up the phone and call him… call the girls… reach out and talk to them. But you couldn’t. Too much has been said and there’s been too much time that has gone by for a simple phone to make it all better. Besides, you don’t even know what you would say to any of them at the moment.
Especially to Harry. The second you hear his voice, you know you’d break down and wouldn’t be able to speak. And plus, did you even have the right to call him and expect him to even give you the time of day? You hurt him. You broke his heart just as much if not more than you broke your own. There’s a big possibility that he was over you, that he moved on, or that he was so pissed off at you, he didn’t want to hear anything you had to say.
And if you were being honest with yourself, the latter might actually hurt worse. The past few months, once the overwhelming feeling started to dissolve, you knew you had fucked up and of course, now you knew you royally fucked up.
Which meant Harry deserved to move on. He deserves someone who would choose him and wouldn’t push him away like you did, so with that being said, maybe…maybe it was time for you to let him go.
**
Punch after punch after punch, Harry strikes the punching bag in front of him. Sweat dripped down his face and chest as his arms burned with each hit. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm before going back to his punching fest. No matter how long he did this, no matter how long he went for a run, there was still this pressure built up inside his chest.
An ache that has been there for a while and no matter what he did, it wouldn’t go away. He even tried writing out his pain, but it only made it worse.
“You can’t keep doing this,” Jeff said from the doorway.
“Doing what?” Harry asked, chugging down some water.
“Sulking, feeling sorry for yourself, trying to beat the shit out of that bag to make yourself feel better,” Jeff mumbled.
“I’m working out,” Harry defends.
“That’s what you’re telling yourself, but it’s obvious,” Jeff said.
“What are you talking about?” Harry said, throwing off his boxing gloves.
“I get it, you’re still in love with Y/N and dealing with all of that shit on top of everything else, but avoiding what’s going on is going to work. You need to either try and reach out to her and get closure to whatever the fuck, or you need to move on, because this- this isn’t it,” he told him.
“Don’t you think I know that?” Harry snapped. “Do you think I enjoy feeling like this? I’m fucking tired of it! I thought… I fucking thought she was it for me, but once again I was too fucking blinded about falling in love, about wanting someone to come home to and look where it fucking got me.”
“You’re angry,” Jeff stated. “Let it out.”
“I can’t!” Harry snapped.
“Why not?” Jeff asked.
“Because I can’t be angry with her,” Harry sighed. “That’s the fucking problem. This… all of this shit would be so much easier if her breaking up with me was because she didn’t love or hell even if she cheated on me, but knowing she broke it off because she’s dealing with shit...I wasn’t enough for her. I wasn’t enough to help her. That’s my job… I’m supposed to be there for her… to help her… to protect her, and I fucking failed.”
“Hey,” Jeff rushed over, taking his best friend into his arms. “You didn’t fail. Y/N had her own issues, and she… I don’t know why she pushed you away, but that isn’t your fault.
Harry put his head into his hands, wiping away the sweat and the tears falling down his cheeks.
“I think...I think enough time has passed that you should reach out to her. It might be the best for the both of you,” Jeff suggested.
“I don’t know,” he sighed.
“The Grammy’s are in a few weeks, both of you are going to be there,” Jeff said. “Don’t you think it would be better for the two of you to hash this out before seeing each other for the first time on national TV?”
Harry sighed, knowing he was right, but he still didn’t know if he could bring himself to reach out to you just yet. He didn’t know if he could hear your voice and not break down. However, he knew he would have to face this eventually, but now wasn’t the time.
**
You were currently in your home studio laying down the track of the song you had recently written. You weren’t the best at mixing or producing, but you knew and were comfortable enough to make it sound half decent. At least until you could get some others to come in and work on it.
It took a few goes until you found one you were satisfied with. You downloaded and sent the demo to your crew.
“Okay, that’s enough for the day,” you mumbled.
You turned everything off before heading into your kitchen where you made yourself some food. Just as you were sitting down to binge watch another show, your phone rang. Your heart instantly sank at the sound of the ringtone, still after all this time, you got a bit anxious wondering who was on the other line.
Seeing Stevie’s name across the top brought both a little ease, but also a bit of disappointment.
“Hey, Stevie,” you answered.
“How’s my favorite goddaughter?” she asked.
“I’m okay,” you sighed.
“You don’t sound okay,” she noted.
“I’m just… going through it,” you mumbled. “I’ll be fine.”
“Aren’t we all,” she said. “But I also know that just because you keep saying you’re fine doesn’t mean you are.”
You sighed.
“Look, I’m back in town, why don’t you come over, spend a few days if you’d like, and we can talk through this because if I know you, you’ve been alone this entire time and that’s not good for anyone,” she said.
“How do you always know everything?” You mumbled.
“I’ve been around a long time and lived an interesting life, I know things,” she smirked.
“Apparently,” you sighed. “Fine, I’ll stop by tomorrow afternoon.”
“I look forward to seeing you,” she smiled.
You sighed, ending the call, and wondered what Stevie had up her sleeve.
**
Harry finished up rehearsals before stopping by to get food. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he sat in the car driving to home, well the place he stayed at while he was in LA. Even though he lived there, he couldn’t bring himself to call it home. It felt too empty, too cold for it to ever be a home.
Just as he pulled into his driveway, got out of his car, and carried his bag of food inside, his phone started to ring. Everytime his phone rang, he silently hoped it was you calling on the other line, but if it was, he didn’t know if he could bring himself to answer.
But it wasn’t you, but it was someone close to you… and to him. Stevie. He thought about not answering it, letting it go to voicemail then maybe following up with a text that he’ll call her soon, but he knew it wasn’t fair to let his relationship with her be affected by what happened with you.
“Hey,” Harry answered.
“Hello there, how’s everything going?” She asked.
“It’s going,” Harry laughed. “I just finished up rehearsals.”
“For the Grammys right?” She asked.
“Yep that would be it,” he said.
“How are you feeling about that?” She asked.
“Nervous… and excited, ready to get back on stage,” he answered.
“It’ll be a great night, I’m sure,” she said. “But I know you’re probably busy, but I wanted to let you know I’m back in town and I would love for you to come over for dinner tomorrow night, as long as you’re not busy.”
“Um… I’ve got another rehearsal earlier in the day, but I could stop around for a quick dinner,” he nodded.
“Great, it’s settled, then. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.
Harry hung up and sat down with his food. It wasn’t exactly unheard of for Stevie to call him up and invite him over for dinner. They’ve both done that plenty of times, but there was something going on with this particular invite Harry just couldn’t put his finger on.
But whatever it was, he would find out tomorrow.
**
And there’s the first part... not sure how often I’ll update since I am still writing the Sunflower AU series, but I’m going to try and post every other week at first. 
Let me know your thoughts! 
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yongtxt · 4 years
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turn back time [taeyong]
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word count: 6.2k words
characters: amnesiac!taeyong x girlfriend!reader ft. doyoung
genre: angst [meant to be just melancholic so no crying !]
warnings: few mentions of a car crash and some wounds. taeyong suffers from amnesia.  it’s a couple trying to learn how to love again.
author’s note: yesterday was my first year anniversary here on tumblr and i give you a short angst fic of the first nct member i wrote for as a present. anyway. i need a break from angst after this also i need to stop writing people getting hurt/wounded???? [stream turn back time by wayv later <3] / unedited
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Taeyong awoke to harsh fluorescent lighting filling his vision, a throat so dry it could compare to a desert, and the muffled cries of his lover.
His arms ached, muscles extremely sore that it hurt him to even lift his limb. He wanted to reach out to you, to run his fingers through your hair, and to tell you that everything was gonna be okay—he would work it out with you, together.
You had Taeyong’s hospital gown clutched in your hands, soaking the fabric with your weeping. WIth your face buried into his blanket, it took you a second to realize that your boyfriend had already woken up from his deep slumber. Your cheeks flushed at his intense gaze, dropping your hold on him almost immediately as if it was hot to touch.
“You’re awake!” You exclaimed, voice cracking. Fumbling to wipe your tears, you scrambled to your feet. “Let me grab some food, okay? You must be hungry.”
Taeyong did his best to shake his head, “No, you don’t have to. Please just stay beside me.”
A beat passed and you could only stare at him. The hesitance you exuded didn’t pass unnoticed, you sat back on the stool beside him and stayed tight-lipped. Taeyong sighed through his nose, a bubble of nervousness growing in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t even look you in the eye, his attention darting everywhere but to you.
“How are you feeling? Do you think you can move better now?” You asked, soft and wary—afraid of what his response would be and he didn’t like the sound of it not one bit, but he didn’t let it show.
“I can move my head better than yesterday.” Taeyong pointed out, craning his neck enough to prove it to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your face and his chest floods with an unfamiliar warmth. He added, “My joints just hurt since I’m kept on bed rest all day.”
“Well, you’re getting released tomorrow.” You said, subconsciously outstretching your hand to brush off the fallen lock of his hair from his forehead. He blushed at the contact of your fingertips and you immediately retracted it back. “Uh, your doctor wanted me to tell you that you should start walking around again if you can to avoid using crutches.”
“I’ll try to go for a walk tonight.” He nodded his head, staring at his lap as if it was the most fascinating thing in the room. “Can you help me drink some water?”
“I’m sorry, of course.” Your cheeks reddened the same way his were, fumbling to punch in a straw inside a bottle of water as you propped it up for him to sip on. Of course he was thirsty, he had been asleep for almost half the day.
Your fingers were trembling, he noticed. Before he could point it out, the door slammed open and you were forced to draw away his drink. You haven’t been told of anyone visiting so it came as a surprise to see your boyfriend’s childhood best friend panting in the doorway, holding himself up on the frame while he gawked at Taeyong’s wounded form.
Bruises of varying sizes littered across Taeyong’s pale skin and a bandage was wrapped around his forehead, his bleached hair peeking out from the bloodied cloth. A large gash can be seen trailing along his jawline and although it had been healing nicely, a mark remained. He had dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks were sunken from fatigue and a lack of nutritional intake, much like you.
He didn’t look well, Doyoung thought with a pitiful gaze Taeyong was already too familiar with.
“Aren’t you gonna come in?” Taeyong chuckled, grinning at Doyoung who frowned at him. He rushed to his side and mindlessly took him into an embrace, cradling his bandaged head into his shoulder. You felt hot tears pool into the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away before they could see.
He berated him, the way he always would when Taeyong got himself into trouble that could’ve been easily avoided if he would just think straight. The blizzard, Doyoung kept bringing it up, he shouldn’t have driven when the weather was too dangerous.
“I’ll try to remember that next time.” Taeyong said, reassuring him before Doyoung could burst into tears. He wouldn’t know how to handle him if he got too emotional, he doubted you’d be able to.
“Why were you driving, anyway? What was so important that you had to risk your life to travel?” Doyoung huffed and you rose from your seat from instinct, about to insert yourself into their conversation when Taeyong grasped your fingers.
You stared at him and you were suddenly reminded that he must’ve put himself in pain to stop you. You sat back down and he smiled, he wanted to say it himself and you could only respect his wishes. You hadn’t been able to inform Taeyong’s friends about his car crash as it had been only a week since it happened, all of your time was spent tirelessly tending him back to health. You didn’t have the time to share the unfortunate news.
“Apparently, I was on my way back to Seoul from visiting my family.” Taeyong said, gently grazing your skin away from his best friend’s sight. At Doyoung's confused knot on his forehead, he continued, “My mom told me that they couldn’t make me stay because it was the night of my anniversary with my girlfriend.”
“Taeyong, why are you talking like that—”
“The doctor said I hit my head on the steering wheel pretty badly.” Taeyong laughed mirthlessly, and you subconsciously squeezed his hand. “Bad enough that my memory got a bit fuzzy. Retrograde amnesia, I think that’s what they called it.”
Doyoung blinked, lips gaped at Taeyong who only smiled at him. He looked up at you, a sudden onslaught of anxiety coursing through him that you could just see him almost shake in worry. He whispered to you, “Amnesia? How far back can he remember?”
You bit your lip, turning away and loosening the grip you had on Taeyong’s hand, but he held it tighter with a strength you were sure he was only forcing. You said, “The beginning of third year in college.”
“What?!” Doyoung choked on his spit, leaping from his seat in shock. You offered him an unopened bottle of water but he shook his head. “You’re already a working man, Taeyong! We graduated two years ago, man!”
You did your best to calm Doyoung down, much to Taeyong’s appreciation. You knew where his emotions were coming from so you had to explain why it happened in a manner he would understand. You said that the blizzard was so strong that the roads had iced up and due to the speed he was driving, the car had slipped and crashed into a tree. He hit his head and the sheer impact caused trauma to his brain and made him lose his memories.
The doctors diagnosed him with retrograde amnesia, a form of memory loss that occurs from a traumatic brain injury. It prevented Taeyong from remembering what happened prior to his accident. His recovery was supposed to be gradual, it will take time for him to regain the memories he had lost but it wasn’t assured.
Taeyong doesn’t like telling what happened because people’s first reaction to his amnesia was to resort to aggression. As if their anger and frustration could magically make him remember what he had lost. You didn’t think of it that way, on one quiet night you told him that maybe it was just their desperation to bring him back to the person he was.
He thought it was selfish of them, but you kept your lips shut and refused to tell him that losing two years was a big deal to some people. Although he was still himself, quirks and habits are the same as you’ve first witnessed them, little aspects of him were different; some just different enough that others would do a doubletake to make sure it was really him. The person he is now just wasn’t exactly the person he used to be.
A slightly-off Taeyong, he grimly made a joke about.
You wanted to reassure him, comfort him that he didn’t need to try so hard to be who he used to be. You know despite all of his nonchalance and soft smiles, he was hurting. He instilled it in himself that he disappointed his loved ones by being a person they weren’t accustomed to. But you couldn’t, you weren’t in the place to when his last memories of you were when you have only first met during the anthropology class in your third year of college.
“God, that means you can’t even remember your own girlfriend.” Doyoung mumbled, mostly to himself but you heard it clearly enough as if he personally made it a point to stomp on your heart. Taeyong frowned.
“Shut it, Doyoung.” You grumbled, tears threatening to spill again. You and Taeyong have been so emotionally exhausted that having another person in the hospital room usually would lift both of your spirits, but Doyoung proved himself to be a disturbance instead.
Hours were spent lounging around with Doyoung talking Taeyong’s ears off with stories that he had missed in the past two years, how he was the one who had forced him into the class he shared with you and how coerced him into asking you out before he graduated; a bunch of stories that it almost made Taeyong wish that everything could just go back to the way it was.
He wasn’t the Taeyong they speak so fondly off, he was merely just the shell of him. Still, Doyoung had brought out a smile that you had been unable to make and for that, Taeyong gave him his thanks. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and sniffled.
Doyoung left not too long after, but he promised to visit soon. He knew you needed the support. You were left alone with your boyfriend again and the silence envelops you whole. When you excused yourself to grab a much-needed coffee, Taeyong sank to the hospital bed and succumbed to his tears.
This was his last night in the hospital and it had felt like the longest. He was out like a light but you stilled in your chair beside his bed, fumbling with the ends of his blanket in worry of tomorrow. Not much had progressed in your relationship with him. He was still embarrassed, timid in how he acted around you. You asked if he wanted to go home with you and he reassured you that he would be fine with it, but the panic you felt was still prominent.
Morning came and after what seemed like hours of finishing what was left of Taeyong’s documents in the hospital, it was time to finally leave. You hailed a taxi and you couldn’t help but notice your boyfriend’s sudden rigidness inside the vehicle. Swallowing your reluctance, you took his hand and forced his attention on you throughout the entire drive. He was thankful that you were able to distract him.
The apartment you shared with Taeyong was small but humble, the third unit in an old building that you swore was built in an era before the current. Thin walls and a poorly constructed floor, it was all both of you could afford when you’ve decided to move in together fresh out of college. Despite its imperfections, it was home as long as you had him with you.
With the creaky sounds your front door made, you heard the familiar sound of soft thudding of feet run across the wooden floors to welcome your arrival. Your heart leaped at the sight of Lala, the three-year-old Labrador you adopted with Taeyong, bolting towards your direction with her tongue sticking out.
Taeyong trailed behind you, drinking the place in. His gaze kept on darting from one place to another, his lips parted in amazement at the thought that he really had the courage to move out of his parents’ house to live with his girlfriend. It looked lived in, bits of his and your personalities showing in the way it was decorated and cluttered. The clashing of color schemes and wood tones almost made him want to laugh over how it was clearly furnished purely on indecision and compromise.
He was too busy familiarizing himself to notice that Lala had jumped on him. Your heart squeezed at the sight.
You crouched down to your knees, reaching over to scratch the back of Lala’s ear. You chuckled at Taeyong’s confusion on how to approach the hyperactive puppy, “Her name is Lala, she’s three years old. We adopted her on your birthday last year.”
Taeyong nodded with widened eyes, getting down to your level to attempt to pet her. He commented offhandedly, “Good girl, Lala.”
“She definitely prefers you over me, too.” You mumbled, watching Lala cave into Taeyong’s touch. She hadn’t seen him in a while so you wondered if her attachment to him would waver but it seemed to only grow stronger, the same way you were with your boyfriend. “I had my friend take care of her while we were gone.”
Taeyong kept his quiet and you swallowed the lump in your throat. His doctor told you to treat him especially kindly since he was in a vulnerable state, but you should instill a sense of normalcy. You were instructed to treat him as you normally would, he needed to be reminded of the lifestyle he used to have little by little.
The idea of having to consume copious amounts of medicines every day was already exhausting and gruesome, he even had the bandage around his head to deal with. He had a lot on his plate, you wouldn’t dare add to it by pressuring him to become the adult he doesn’t remember that he was. In his mind, he was still twenty years old and was living in a rickety dorm with Doyoung; it will surely take time for him to grow out of it.
You told Taeyong to go sit down on the stool across the island, to make himself comfortable while you prepared dinner—attempt to prepare dinner. Racking all the recipes his mother had taught you over the years, you wanted to cook a meal he would enjoy and reminisce over.
“Doyoung told me you didn’t like cooking very much.” You heard Taeyong’s voice said, a voice free of malice and full of genuine interest. He said, “It makes sense that I should be the one making food for us right now. You know, for all the trouble I’ve caused you the past week.”
You shook your head firmly, turning around so your back faced him. You didn’t want to let him see your ever-growing frown. You sighed, “Don’t worry, I can handle this. Do you want some coffee?”
“Yeah, sure.” He mumbled, pressing his cheek against the palm of his hand. He wished he could do more for you, but you weren’t letting him; you had your wall up as high as he had his.
Shuffling to where your coffee maker was, you quickly fixed a cup of coffee for him as if you moved purely on instinct. Taeyong watched you in amusement as you slid a blue mug to his way. The paint of its design was chipping off the edges and it had a small crack on the handle, it definitely had seen better days but he felt oddly drawn to it.
You saw him eyeing it out and you chuckled, “We went out on a pottery class for a date once and I made that mug for you. You refused to drink coffee without it, but I think it’s time for us to throw it out and buy you a better one.”
“No!” Taeyong interjected almost immediately, waving his hands to dismiss your idea. “I like it. We’re keeping it.”
Your chest ached, but you were unable to pinpoint the feeling that made it so, “If you say so.”
Taeyong was a picky man when it came to his coffee. He wasn’t an avid drinker of dark and rich brews, often preferred the sweeter and creamier side of the spectrum. The drink you made for him tasted just right, the perfect balance, and he was overwhelmed with gratitude. It made him laugh, how his taste in college didn’t seem to change in his twenty-three-year-old body.
“You can go look around while I cook.” You remarked, jutting your chin towards the rest of the apartment that he has yet to see as you run your hands under the running water. He followed your gaze and shook his head. You quirk an eyebrow, “You sure? It’ll take a bit before these noodles cook.”
Lala encircled his feet before cozying herself on top of his shoes, refusing to leave his sight. He laughed, bending down to pick her up and place her onto his lap. With his hands deep into the puppy’s golden fur, he asked, “Is Lala supposed to be a reference to the Teletubbies?”
You turned the stove on and plopped in the boxed pasta you retrieved from the pantry, “Your nephew loved the Teletubbies at some point so we made him name her.”
A visible twinkle appeared in Taeyong’s eye at the mention of his nephew. He’d only seen photos of him recently, the last he remembered of him was that he was only an infant cradled in his sister’s arms. And as if a barrier was put down, he asked if you could tell him more about what he had missed in his personal life. If Taeyong from the past trusted you enough to move in and adopt a dog together⁠—which he couldn’t believe he was able to do in college, he had to trust you, too.
You gladly entertained his curiosities while you prepared a mediocre version of his mother’s Jajangmyeon. As obscure some of his questions were, you were as honest as you could be. From how he managed to pass his senior year to how he got the job at his company, he asked it all while stuffing his face with dark noodles.
In your eyes, he looked like a kid who wanted to know what his older brother did, to follow in his footsteps and be just like him. He wanted to absorb so much information, it almost pained you to look at him listening to you with an expression so clearly resembling envy.
He cut you off and called out to you with a voice lower than before, sadder but still hesitant. You glanced at him in worry that you were rambling too much. He averted his attention away from you, “You’re crying.”
Raising a hand to your cheek, it was wet. You coughed in embarrassment, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He mumbled, meekly offering his half-empty drink to you.
You hopped out of your seat beside him, carrying your empty bowl to the sink. You stayed a bit longer away from his line of view, wanting to keep your emotions in check for Taeyong’s first night back in the apartment. You didn’t want to scare him away, he was getting more comfortable and you succumbing to your feelings would ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for.
You turned the tap on and cracked your neck, “I’ll clean up here while you can go take a bath. The bathroom is next to the bedroom.”
He let out a breath and nodded, lingering for a moment before ultimately deciding that it would be best to leave you be. He didn’t know how he could comfort you when he was the reason for your distress, it would only hurt you more if he tried to console you of things he didn’t know of.
He spotted a box on the coffee table on his way to the bathroom, a bright red box with doodles scribbled onto its sides. Glancing at you, he was about to ask what it was inside when he clamped his mouth shut. He sat down on the couch and let his curiosity get the best of him, reaching to fiddle with the latch that sealed it closed.
Inside were piles of polaroid films, photos were not only of you and him but also of his friends from college and people he had yet to remember. An assortment of knickknacks filled it to its brim, variations of trinkets that included movie tickets and receipts. It was a box made to help Taeyong remember the memories he had lost, the connections he had with people that he had forgotten.
Taeyong bit the inside of his cheek, it must’ve been your doing. You probably asked around for others to help assemble the box, his heart swelled at the thought. You were working hard to make himself and his environment feel normal after losing a good chunk of his memories, he had to work hard as well.
His fists were shaking, his knuckles turning a shade paler than it already was. Lala snaked into the crook of his arm and whimpered at her owner’s change of composure. He laughed humorlessly, scratching her belly in appreciation.
Shutting the box closed, he sighed. He made his way towards the unfamiliar bathroom and filled the tub. Doyoung always told him that a bath could melt all of his troubles away, and how he wished it was that easy.
Taeyong came out of his long bath with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, blushing as he hastily pulled on the clothes you had prepared for him in the bedroom. You remained unfazed as you waited for him in a change of sleepwear, he realized that you might’ve already seen him naked before and the thought of it only worsened the state of his cheeks. He perched on the edge of the bed once he was finished.
You grabbed his ointment and attended to the injury on the side of his head, a gash that the doctors had sewn back together. You had a light hand, he noted, but the ache persisted. It burned when the tip of its applicator grazed along the stitches. He reached out to toy with the hem of your shirt, to divert his attention from the pain. You wrapped a bandage around his head as quickly as you could.
You mumbled, “It’s all done.”
“Thank you.” He smiled up at you and you returned it halfheartedly. “Let’s go to sleep, yeah? I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No, don’t! This bed is yours, too.” You said, holding onto his wrists before he could make a home on your busted couch that functioned as Lala’s chew toy half the time. “I know how much your back hurts because of the hospital bed so please, sleep here.”
Taeyong looked at you with a conflicted expression on his face but after seconds of contemplation and mental debate, he relented only if you’d use the bed as well. You sighed and caved in.
He crawled to his side of the bed, making you wonder if there was an inkling of a chance that he remembered how much he preferred his half that faced the windows. You shuffled to your side, mindful to not cross any boundaries. This would be his first time sleeping next to you and you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable by being too close for comfort.
You switched to your side, away from his sight. The awkwardness was suffocating you, it seemed like you were the only one affected by it because soon you felt his side dip as he made himself more comfortable while you were frozen like a statue. You were nearing the edge of the bed, so far the end that one wrong move would make you fall out of it.
“Taeyong, are you asleep?” After an hour of silence, you spoke up but in hopes that he was already sleeping.
Unfortunately for you, he hummed in response. You could feel the blankets shift, making it known that he was facing your direction now that you’ve called him. At your lack of reply, he must’ve thought you didn’t hear him so he cleared his throat, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, look. I just want to say that if you want to break up with me, I’ll understand.”
“What?” He slowly sat up in confusion, hefting himself up with his elbows. You refused to look at him, gnawing on your lips and your eyes squeezed shut as if you were a kid caught by your parents awake past your bedtime.
“This situation we’re in, you don’t have to force yourself to be with me if you don’t want to.” You managed to choke out, choosing your words carefully. “I want you to continue living who you are now, I’ll just hinder you from moving on if I only remind you of the memories you lost.”
He called out your name, much sterner and different from the gentle tone he always used on you. You were suffering worse than he was, that he knew, but he didn’t know just how much until you’ve finally cracked—the insecurities and worries you’ve hidden from him, pouring out all at once and he didn’t know what to do with it.
You were sobbing into the sheets and he could only rub circles onto your back as a failed attempt at comfort. He wanted to tell you so many things, to reassure you that he wasn’t thinking the way you assumed he would be.
Taeyong thought of you so highly. You were someone who carried all of his burdens and stories that made him the person that he was, someone who had so much love for him despite not having it reciprocated back, someone who just wanted him to forgive himself for not being who he was and to start living again. You weren’t just some stranger to him, but the world had robbed him of you.
He ignored his hesitance and whispered under the blanket of the night, “You might’ve lost the Taeyong that you love but I promise I will spend the rest of my days proving to you that I’m worthy of the same love you’ve once given to me.”
“Taeyong—”
“It’ll take some time and I can’t assure you that things will be the same as it was but I swear, I will never forget you again and we’ll be happy.”
There were a lot of things to do, but none of those things were as important to him as lying here next to you, to pick up what remained of you from his ruins. He knew full well that he wasn’t the only victim. He was aware that you were also trying your best for him, to hold onto what’s left of the pieces you used to love about him.
“I really want this to work out.” You admitted amid your hiccups and sniffles, his heart broke at the sound of it. “I know I haven’t lost you yet.”
“Thank you for not giving up on me.” He mumbled, running his nimble fingers through the locks of your hair as a serene silence filled the room as you didn’t say anything back. After a week of being in the hospital, your heavy breathing was enough to lull him into his sleep.
You glanced at him for the first time since you had laid down, observing his furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. A small smile appeared on your face, he looked tired even though he was already deep in his sleep. You whispered in the dark, “Sleep tight, Taeyong.”
The cold of the night renders you restless once again, your eyes brimming with a bright red hue and utter exhaustion. You swung your legs to the side of the bed, careful enough to not wake your boyfriend who was already asleep. His gentle snores filled the room and you made your way towards the balcony connected to the bedroom with your phone in hand and a blanket draped around your shoulders.
It was another starless sky, you looked up and the absence of the twinkling lights comforted you. You pulled on the blanket closer as you fiddled on your phone, tapping on an option that directed you to a phone call.
“Don’t you know that it’s two in the fucking morning? What do you want?” Doyoung’s voice replaced the monotonous ringing, sounding raspy from what you assumed was his sleep.
“I wanted someone to talk to.” It was your honest answer and you knew he wouldn’t judge you for it.
He yawned, and for a moment you felt a twinge of guilt but it dissipated the second after, “How is Taeyong doing? You brought him back home earlier, right?”
“He’s okay. He’s passed out on the bed right now.” You said, stealing a glance at where Taeyong was sprawled across the bed. A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips, you haven't seen him more at peace. “It kinda sucks, you know? I want to be strong for him but I don’t know how long I will last.”
“You love him, right?”
“I do. So much.”
“Then just be patient, please. You’re the only person he can truly rely on right now.” Doyoung sounded like he was almost pleading with you, entrusting his best friend to you for a second time with the first was when you agreed to be Taeyong’s girlfriend. He said, “The love you shared is very strong, it conquered many hurdles and it will overcome this.”
You nodded your head, but you remembered Doyoung couldn’t see you. You whispered, “I’m scared, Doyoung.”
“Of?” He asked as quietly as you were being as if you wanted the conversation to only be a secret between each other.
“What if he never loves me again?” Your nail was shoved in between your teeth, your leg anxiously bouncing against the floor. It was a thought that had flitted about your mind but you have shoved it so far back in an attempt to ignore it but it demanded your attention, to face its possibility.
He scoffed at the other end of the line, “It’s Taeyong we’re talking about here. If he could fall in love at his first sight of you in college, he could easily do it again.”
You let out a shaky breath, “Thanks, Doyoung. I needed that.”
“Alright, good night. Take care of yourself.” He said, dropping the call when you didn’t return his farewell.
You bent over the railing, tilting your chin up to face the night sky once more. You scoured the endless dark for even just a glimpse of a shooting star, for a chance to wish upon the universe to end this nightmare of yours. Your boyfriend was right there with you, but you have never felt more lonely.
Shutting your eyes closed, you let out another sigh. You were so tired of crying but it felt like the only thing you could do. You wondered just how much an average person could cry, maybe you’ve exceeded their record.
You left the balcony not too long after, padding back to the bed with a heavier heart. You sat on your side and twisted your body to face Taeyong. His mouth was parted and his cheek was pressed onto the pillow he held onto, a chuckle rolled off your tongue. Before you could even think of stopping yourself, you leaned onto him and placed a kiss onto his forehead.
A familiar heat rises to your neck at what you have done, you jumped from where you sat and raised a hand to your lips as if you’ve been burnt. You hadn’t been this intimate to him since the accident happened.
You grabbed your blanket and bolted to the living room, making do with the couch for the rest of the night as you forced yourself to sleep. Lala sleepily watched you in confusion.
Days passed and things have gone relatively the same as the first time Taeyong returned from the hospital, but you noticed the tension has lifted ever-so-slightly. You finally stopped crying yourself to sleep and eventually he has grown enough courage enough to express his affection—discreetly holding your hand and tugging you into his arms late at night to cuddle.
He was forced to stay at home for the remainder of the month while he recuperated, family and friends have visited from time to time to keep him company while you returned to your job. All the stories he’d heard about the two years he’d forgotten about, all of them were linked to you one way or another and it sparked a familiar surge of jealousy he had over his own self; that his past self made so many good memories with you that he could not never experience again.
His feelings for you were growing steadily, dare he said that he may have grown a crush on you. He could never admit it aloud for how pathetic it was, to have a crush on your own girlfriend. But it was your soft hair, your gentle hands, and your never-ending love and patience for him—these were some of the things he could not believe he had forgotten the existence of, how loved it made him feel, and he was ready to drown himself in it again.
Taeyong received a package when you were still at work one day, the label of his hometown address stamped at the right-hand corner indicated that it was from his parents. He ripped off the packaging tape with Lala nuzzling into his side.
He looked inside and saw his luggage. When he was rushed in an ambulance after his crash, his parents were the firsts to arrive at the hospital so the nurses had entrusted to them his belongings that were found in the wreckage. They failed to return it to him once he regained his consciousness as they hurried home soon after you had arrived, unable to stay much longer for personal matters.
He supposed that he only had clothes in it for he was told that he came from his hometown for a week-long visit. Rummaging through his clothes, he was surprised to see a velvet box hidden underneath the pile.
He took it out and gaped at it with owl-like eyes, he fumbled to flip it open. A shiny sparkle of a diamond reflected a faint rainbow from the sunlight that poured from the nearby window, he stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. Chuckling softly, he held the engagement ring close to his chest with a newfound source of encouragement.
You returned home that day to a romantic dinner. Candles of different scents were lit up and a torn picnic blanket covered the dining table, you took off your shoes and followed the scent of your boyfriend’s familiar cooking and spotted him in the kitchen. He donned a suit but he had on an apron to protect his front, busy with whatever meal he was preparing to see you peeking in from the doorframe.
“What are you doing?” You asked, and Taeyong swore you had on the brightest smile that he had seen in a while.
He turned off the stove and threw aside his apron, he strode his way to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He placed his chin on top of your head and said, “I want to get to know you better.”
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“But I want to take you out on a first date—well, not out out, but you get what I mean.”
You giggled, pressing your cheek against his chest but you suddenly drew back, the worried expression you had taking him by surprise. Raising a hand to his forehead, you asked, “Your heart is beating really fast. Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?”
He stared at you incredulously before bellowing a laugh, a hearty laugh you’ve never heard before. Shaking his head, a small hint of a smile appeared on his lips. He gently pried off your hand from his face and placed a kiss onto the back of your hand. He said, “I’m okay now.”
You were unconvinced that he was, but his sudden affection made it easy for you to ignore it. He leaned down and stole a chaste peck onto your reddened cheek. He put his hand inside the pocket of his suit and nervously fiddled with the velvet box.
Taeyong lost so much of his memories, but he was ready to make new ones as long as he was with you. He will learn to love you again as much as he did before, if not more as long as the universe allowed his heart to.
938 notes · View notes
thesquishyrogue · 3 years
Text
Rogue's relationships with the rest of the mercs
Scout:
Almost like a brother-sister relationship. They're always goofing off together, joking around, getting on Spy's nerves. Just being the chaotic force of the team. Scout constantly convinces Rogue to play baseball with him, especially after seeing that they both use bats as a weapon (albeit Rogue's has nails driven through it).
Scout: "Aw man, sick bat! Say, you ever actually played baseball? If not I could teach ya. Though, you should probably use a different bat. I'll let ya borrow one of mine!"
Soldier:
He's definitely sort of a weird uncle figure to her. She's always giggling at his ridiculous antics, and he's surprisingly protective of her. Although at the same time he's always impressed by her ability to fend for herself, and fight off men larger than her despite her size.
Soldier: "Hell yeah, look at her go! Kicking ass just like a true American! She makes me proud!"
Pyro:
Oh my goodness. These two. Rogue almost always puts on a tough attitude, especially around the other guys. But around Pyro? They're probably the only person Rogue will be a softie towards. They're constantly seen platonically hugging and cuddling, and Pyro loves when Rogue covers their mask in stickers. They always return the favor by covering her face. Once they come off she treasures them. The others will always comment on how adorable the two are, usually followed by Rogue telling them to fuck off.
Rogue: "If anything were to ever happen to Pyro, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself."
Pyro: (灬º‿º灬)
Demoman:
Their relationship is quite explosive, to say the least. When Demo isn't trying to get Rogue to try some of his alcohol (which always results in Rogue gagging and choking from the bitterness) they're always assisting each other on the battlefield. Mostly in the form of Rogue catapultng Demo's bombs at enemies with her slingshot. They always share a laugh when a BLU team member is blown to bits.
Demoman: "Boom, right in the head! Look at all that blood! Yer aim is getting better and better, lassie!"
Heavy:
Just looking at these two stand next to each other is almost laughable. With Heavy being incredibly larger than everyone and Rogue being incredibly smaller, he practically dwarfs her. He's extremely gentle with her though, and takes care of her in sort of a protective big brother kind of way. Whenever the team is lounging around, she's often either cuddled into him or resting her legs in his lap. He doesn't mind it. He's also let her beat him in arm wrestling numerous times. She knows he lets her win, but she still take the opportunity to boast to the other mercs about it.
Heavy: "Little girl is so strong. You've beaten me again."
Rogue: 😏😏😏
Engineer:
He's also like an uncle figure to her. But unlike Soldier, he's more of the chill laid-back uncle that she can go to for advice. And she often does. Sometimes when she's bored she'll go into his workshop and talk with him as he plays his guitar or she helps out with whatever he's working on. Even if that help is something as simple as just handing him tools, he appreciates it. He appreciates the company too.
Engie: "Alright darlin', can you hand me the screwdriver?"
Rogue: "Uh... which one?"
Engie: "The Phillips."
Rogue: "Uh..."
Engie: "The pointy one."
Rogue: "Oh! Yeah sure I knew that."
Medic:
Like with Engie, Rogue will often go into the infirmary to talk with Medic as he works (she also makes sure he takes a break once in a while and doesn't overwork himself). He also does what he can to help with her depression once that's out in the open, prescribing her any antidepressants he can get his hands on. Though when she first joined the team and he gave her her first annual exam, he was astounded by how many fractures and injuries he'd found that were just left to sloppily heal on their own. The sadistic doctor was actually kind of worried for her, though honestly impressed by her high pain tolerance.
Medic: "Goodness fräulein, this is the fifth fracture I've found! How are you even walking?"
Rogue: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Sniper:
Despite having quite good aim from using a slingshot for years, Rogue was quite inexperienced with guns (not including when she killed her old caretaker at the end of her fighting days). So naturally, Sniper took it upon himself to teach her. He educates her on different types of guns in order to find what works best for her, and the two partake in target practice together. Of course, the two end up bonding during the lessons. She tells him all about her life in the ring, and he tells her about what life was like back in Australia. One thing that Rogue wasn't anticipating, however, was how strong the recoil of a gun can be. She was so unprepared she was thrown right onto her ass in shock.
Sniper: "Crikey! You alright there, mate?"
Rogue: "Yeah I'm fine... fuck, what was that?!"
Sniper: "Recoil, love. Did you not know guns did that?"
Rogue: "...no..."
Spy:
Although she and Spy certainly took the longest to warm up to each other, the two are as close as can be now. Once they finally accepted each other, Spy took her under his wing as his apprentice. He helps her perfect her thieving skills and educates her on how to take tough situations in stride. She really looks up to him, and they almost have a father-daughter relationship. And of course, when her depression comes to light, he's her biggest means of support. He's always available when she needs him and he does whatever he can for her.
Spy: "You make me so proud, mon cheri. You've captured the intel once again, our training has really paid off. Great job."
Rogue: "Thanks dad."
Spy: "Excuse me, what was that?"
Rogue: "....nothing."
Bonus!
Miss Pauling:
Miss Pauling is literally the first woman Rogue has ever been close to in her life. Throughout her entire childhood she's been surrounded by creepy older men, and even though things are different now with the mercs... they're still men. There are just some things Rogue isn't quite comfortable talking to them about. But with Miss Pauling, going to her for help with things like clothes shopping and feminine problems almost feels natural. Hell, there were so many things Rogue didn't even know about periods until Miss Pauling explained them to her. And of course Miss Pauling takes the time out of her busy work day as often as she can to make sure Rogue is stocked up on sanitary items, and whatever else she needs. Rogue is always extremely greatful for it. And while part of her sees Miss Pauling as sort of a mother figure...another part sort of has a crush on her. Yeah, Miss Pauling was pretty much Rogue's bisexual awakening. But she hasn't said anything about it, one because it would just be awkward and two because she knows Scout also likes her, and she doesn't wanna stand in his way (but little does either of them know, Miss Pauling is a lesbian 👀)
Miss Pauling: "Rogue, honey, you don't even know what a pad is? Or a tampon??? What- what do you do when you get your period?"
Rogue: "What, you mean that weird time of the month that I start bleeding? I just... live with it I guess? Maybe put toilet paper in my panties if it gets too messy-"
Miss Pauling: "Rogue. Come with me, I'll get you stocked up on the things you need. And we'll get you some new panties too."
Rogue: "But don't you have things to do?"
Miss Pauling: "This is more important. You shouldn't have to suffer every month just because no one ever properly taught you about periods. I'll help you out."
Saxton Hale:
Rogue thought he was obnoxious upon first meeting him. Called him a "corporate clown" to the other mercs. But, she had to  earn his approval in order to join the team, so Miss Pauling insisted that she be on her best behavior around him. But, even when on her best behavior her spunkiness still shined through, and Saxton noticed it real quick. However, that spunkiness only raised his interest. He commented on how he, "Hadn't met such a scrappy sheila in a long time." Truth be told, she reminded him a lot of Maggie, but he wasn't about to mention it. During their one on one meeting, he demanded that she punch him in the face to test her strength. After a short hesitation, she did so. Saxton was impressed that she actually hit him hard enough to dislocate his jaw and bust his lip, and gave her the job on the spot with the promise that she keep up that energy (and learn to use some weapons, of course). Miss Pauling and the mercs were shocked to see the two of them come back with Saxton's arm slung around Rogue's shoulders and his face dripping with blood, and the two of them laughing with each other. She took back what she said about him being a corporate clown. Although, the only thing she still doesn't like about him is how he treats Miss Pauling, considering how close she is with her. She has a mind to call him out on it, but Miss Pauling begs her not to.
Saxton: "Let's see just how strong a little gal like you can really be. Go on, hit me RIGHT here! Hard as ya can!"
Rogue: "Uh...Mr. Hale, I really don't-"
Saxton: "Oh don't wuss out on me girly, you want this job or not?!"
Crack.
Rogue: "Oh my god- Mr. Hale! I am so-"
Saxton: "Now that's what I'm talking about! You pack a hard punch for such a cute little thing!"
Rogue: "You're bleeding..."
Saxton: "Consider yourself hired!"
Administrator:
Doesn't trust her. Not one bit. She only respects her because she has to, and even then her "respect" is so shallow that anyone could see right through it. She hates the way she berates, overworks, and oftentimes gaslights Miss Pauling, and the fact that even all the other mercs seem to be intimidated by her concerns her greatly. She knows something's going on with her behind the scenes, and she's determined to figure out what. In the few times she actually saw her in person, Rogue definitely smarted off to her more than once, despite Miss Pauling practically begging her to watch it. The Administrator, however, almost finds it adorable. Almost. She kind of views Rogue as a bratty child. A bratty child with skill and talent that is essential for her team. And for that, she lets the sassiness slide...for now. Luckily these two don't butt heads often though, considering the Administrator is rarely seen.
Administrator, over the loud loudspeaker: "Well done, let's see some more."
Rogue, mumbling: "Bite me..."
21 notes · View notes
potassium-pilot · 3 years
Text
Prompt 12: Family
A big, blank spot on the wall of the Borel manor parlor wouldn’t normally bother her on another day, but Dia, still recovering from a near-fatal injury she sustained in the last treasure hunt she went on, suffered from intense boredom. Her day seemed wasted to her by sitting around, doing nothing. The books that surrounded her helped, as well as the free company linkshell, but her fellow adventurers were busy adventuring, and one could only bury herself in fiction for so long after spending years firmly planted in reality. Thus did the wall become painfully obvious.
To her, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say it seemed wildly out of place. Many works of art neighbored this new thorn in her side, yet there did that spot sit empty, lifeless, only showing the wallpaper. Why wasn’t there another work of art? Why couldn’t there have been one? Was he so busy that he forgot to hang something new there? Was she so busy that she never thought to ask?
No, that space simply wouldn’t do.
She cautiously stood up from the settee, taking great care not to reopen her abdominal wound, and found a different perspective. It helped little to ease the discomfort the blank wall was causing. There had to be something to place there. She would sneak off to the Jeweled Crozier and shop around herself if the act of even standing wasn’t so painful. Now that the quandary had revealed itself, she pondered what would hurt more to withstand.
“Oh, Mistress Sito, my lord will be rather upset that you’re not resting your wounds”, cautioned the steward, Angelbert, from the doorway to the parlor.
“The man fought off a terrorist cell hours after being stabbed; he can deal with me standing here staring at a wall”, she snarked. The steward frowned at the remark. “May I ask why you choose to stare at a wall, mistress?”
“Angelbert, do you know why there’s a blank spot here?” The old man stepped towards the spot she stood in, and examined the wall. “Running a house near singlehandedly has made it a bit hard to pay attention to wall decorations, I’m afraid, but I’m sure my lord has his reasons.”
She hummed in consideration. “Well, what might he think of filling it with something else, I wonder?”
“Such as?”
“Well, look at the rest of it- there’s art abound. Why not fill that spot with another work?”
Angelbert took a moment to think. “Well, the basement does hold several paintings that remain unhanged.” Dia brought her attention to the steward. “Really?”
“Plenty of them. That in mind, he has precious little time to spend thinking about house decorations.”
“Angelbert, I have nothing but time, at the moment. Why don’t we look through them and see what we can find, then when Aymeric gets home, we can ask what he thinks?” His white eyebrows lifted at the suggestion. “Hm, an interesting proposition. I suppose if my lord’s opinion is weighed as equally as yours, it could be a splendid idea.”
She grinned, and stated, “Well, we can’t stand around here, then. Let’s take a look!”
“Er, Mistress Sito, with all due respect, I would rather not aggravate your wounds further. Why do I not simply bring up the collection myself?”
“Angelbert-“ she was about to dispute it before she took a step ahead of her, and felt as if her core was tearing itself apart. She clutched her wound and strained to get out, “That’s a really good idea, you should do that.”
“Please drink your health potion, mistress! Shall I call the chirurgeon?”
She took her place back on the settee, held up a hand, and answered, “I’m a healer, Angelbert. I’ll take care of it. Just please, grab the paintings.” He bowed and left to find them while Dia examined her wounds and applied pain relief for herself, then drank the health potion as was recommended by the chirurgeon she was brought to, as well as Aymeric, her free company friends with whom she sought the treasure, the Scions, and now Angelbert.
A few minutes passed, and the elder steward returned with artwork in hand. “I found the collection, Mistress Sito.”
“Perfect. Here, sit down and we’ll look through it together.” The steward smiled and sat down with the portraits, ready to examine them together with her.
“This one’s just fruit”, she remarked at an unimaginative bowl of fruit topped with grapes, apples, and a banana, “Doesn’t go with anything up there, don’t you think?”
“I tend to agree.” The steward set the portrait to his side of the settee. “What of this one?”
“Oh, that’s a pretty landscape. I wonder where that is.”
“I’d recognize it anywhere: that’s Providence Point before the Calamity.”
“Aww…” she cooed, “Let’s add that to the ‘maybe’ pile.” Angelbert handed the portrait to Dia, who set it to her right side. “Uh…it’s just a splotch of blue…” she described confusedly of the next option.
“I believe it’s an abstract piece, up for interpretation.”
“I’m interpreting that it’s not a good fit up there.” The painting was placed in Angelbert’s ‘no’ pile on his side of the settee. The next portrait made Dia gasp in excitement. “Is that—“
A realistic portrait portrayed an elderly couple with a young boy between them wearing a green coat, green matching pants, and black dress shoes-typical of Ishgardian fashion- and sporting wavy black hair with similar bangs on his forehead, all parties with a neutral expression on their face. “There’s my lord as a lad with his parents. I remember when this portrait was taken, too. He couldn’t sit still, heehee.” Angelbert fondly reminisced of the time when this would have been painted.
“He’s adorable here! Look at him”, Dia marveled at the painting, “What’s this doing here with the rest of this collection?” Before Angelbert could theorize, he heard the sound of a key attempting to unlock the front door. “Ah, there’s Lord Aymeric now! Give me just a moment.” He stood up and quickly darted towards the front door, ready to greet him as was custom.
She kept searching through the rest of the collection, running into a flower vase, an abstract dining room, and an elezen woman holding a cat before she noticed the sound of his footsteps moving towards the parlor. “Ah, there you are!” she greeted cheerfully and attempted to stand up to meet him.
“Don’t you dare get up”, Aymeric ordered calmly, moving quickly towards the settee. She slumped back into her seated position and said, “Fine, then I shall simply sit here and waste away.” He kissed the top of her head from behind her. “‘Tis good to know you’re not being dramatic.”
She feigned a gasp. “Dramatic? Me? I’ve never been so insulted in my life…minus all those times I’ve been horribly insulted”, she teased. Aymeric laughed at her silliness.
“Now, if you have not been waited on hand and foot, I shall have a word.”
“Oh, don’t blame Angelbert. You’ll need more staff for that level of service.” Dia remembered the first time she visited Aymeric for dinner. The steward mentioned that House Borel employed the fewest staff members of any house of Ishgard, the amount being countable on one hand.
Aymeric pondered the suggestion. “You have a point.”
Dia’s eyes widened. “Well, hold on, I don’t actually want to be waited on hand and foot.”
“Neither do I, but Angelbert could certainly use the help. He’s not as young as he used to be.”
“He was young?” Dia joked. Aymeric gave a cautious laugh.
“Careful, Mistress. You’ll find yourself in a similar position one day”, Angelbert remarked as he carried tea and a new health potion. He placed the teacup and potion bottle on the table before Dia continued to joke, “I’m sorry, I refuse to believe you didn’t simply appear in the world anything less than fifty summers old.”
“Well, at least you’re generous with the age, Mistress Sito. Now, have you told Lord Aymeric what you had done before he came home?” he asked before promptly turning away to return to business.
“What did you do?” Aymeric asked Dia concernedly, “And does it have anything to do with all these portraits lying about?”
“Nothing bad, don’t worry. And yes, it does. I came up with an idea.” She pointed to the blank spot that kicked off the process. “That spot has been an immense bother to me since I first noticed it this morning. To that end did I bid Angelbert to help me fill it. He told me you had a bunch of unhanged portraits in the basement, and I asked him to bring them up here and we were trying to decide what to go with. I wanted to see which you would like.” She grabbed the family portrait and held it up so he could see it.
“Now I’m a big fan of this one. I’m not sure why it’s not up there now, but I’m sure there’s a reason, and if you don’t want it up there, you don’t need to put it up there…but you look adorable here, my love! At least consider it.” She set it back to it’s original spot and grabbed the landscape and explained, “This one was in the ‘maybe’ pile. It’s pretty, but it might also bring back some unwanted emotions about pre-Calamity times, so I understand if you don’t.” She set the landscape aside and grabbed the flower vase. “Now at first, I saw the flower vase and thought it was kind of boring, but now that I look at it again, it’s growing on me.”
Aymeric blinked and asked, “You were rather bored, weren’t you, dear?”
“Insanely so. Point is, I think we should fill that blank piece of wall with something, and there are some options here to do so. I know that you’re a bit too busy to think about stuff like decorations regularly, but your opinion matters to me, and I want to know what you think.”
“I would prefer we didn’t fill it at all…at least, not yet.” Dia raised an eyebrow in confusion to that statement. “What? Why?” Aymeric walked towards the empty wall space and stared at it.
“That family photo you adore so much was the original portrait that filled this gap.” Aymeric let out a sharp breath through his nose. “I took it down after the new government was formed.”
Dia carefully stood up, and slowly stepped towards him. “But why?” she whispered.
He hesitated to answer, but finally explained after a moment, “‘Tis silly, but…it transformed itself into a reminder. It reminded me that I was once an object of gossip and scorn, that generally, I was rather disliked by many of the other houses due to those origins of mine. In a way, it mocked me. I couldn’t be burdened with those memories as someone who needs to lead such people into a new age. Yet, that portrait served as something that would yank me back into the old and antiquated, into a position that I care not to relive. As such, it served no purpose sitting there, and so, I had it taken down.”
Dia frowned. She didn’t want to bring back bad memories with that. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for, my dear. I never told you this, and simply hoped you wouldn’t notice. It worked for a while.”
“It did. Well, if that’s the case, why do you not want to fill the spot?”
Aymeric brought his gaze to her and responded with a raised corner of his lip, “In truth, I would like a new family portrait to hang here…one of you and I.”
Dia’s mouth went agape and after taking a moment to process what he told her, she let out a breathed laugh of delight and confusion. “Isn’t that more for married couples, people with their own children?”
“Is there anything traditional about the two of us, about what we’re doing here? I’m a bastard leading a country that detests bastards so, unofficially courting an outsider as she unofficially lives in my family manor. But a few years ago, such thoughts would be unthinkable. Yet here we are, living these thoughts as truth, and rather happily, if I may say so.”
Aymeric stepped towards her and gently gripped her hands. “You are my family, whether that is seen in the eyes of Halone and Ishgard or not, and if you would entertain the idea, I would like to commemorate that soon. You need but say the word, and I shall find the time and artist.”
Dia didn’t know quite what to say. There was no other thought in her head, no conflicting emotions to tell her it was a lie, not when he looked to her with such sincerity. Strangely lucid, yet hazy, lost when she was so clearly found, the only thing she felt was adoration. Her ardor for the man seemed boundless, ever growing, and in this moment, it swelled gloriously.
Not that she was ever capable of vocalizing such emotions.
She kissed his cheek, then brought her forehead to his and asked softly and half-jokingly, “Do I get to choose the outfits?”
“You will have full control over anything you’d like, my love.” She liked the sound of that, so much so, that she met her lips with his, and they enjoyed their warm embrace for all it was worth. Like coming in from a cold winter’s night, their company was the hearth they sat near for warmth. The fire easily burned brighter. This was the most stimulating activity Dia’s experienced since she sustained her injury, and Halone knew Aymeric dealt with the House of Lords far too much to not feel the least bit greedy at her touch. He pulled in her closer, and she happily obliged.
Her wounds did not, however.
She yelped in pain and backed away.
“Are you all right?!”
“Give me a moment, I’ll be fine!” she strained through gritted teeth. Dia started preparing healing spells for herself while he quickly darted for the coffee table to grab the health potion Angelbert prepared and returned to her side with it. Slowly, the tension she exuded began to melt as the pain was being relieved gradually. She passed the worst of it, and gulped down the potion as required.
Godsdammit, she thought.
“I’ll just sit down then”, she announced meekly.
“A good idea”, he affirmed as he took her shoulders to stabilize her and make sure it wouldn’t reopen as she walked.
“Was this how you felt after our experience with the True Brothers of the Faith?” he asked her as he helped seat her.
“Ha! Not even close. You’ll need to feel completely baffled that someone could just stand up and fight off four people hours after being stabbed on top of abject fear for my life.”
Aymeric shook his head. “Well, I, for my part, will attempt to avoid doing anything so reckless again. I realize that danger tends to follow you regardless of what you do, but it still hurts to see you so.”
Dia folded her arms and sarcastically responded, “Hm, and I’m just so thrilled about it.”
“Must you be sarcastic about this?”
“Sorry, it’s the pain talking.”
He stayed silent. She nudged herself closer to him and rested her head on his pauldron. “You sure that this is what you want as your family? A snarky witch who teases you constantly?”
He removed his pauldrons and pulled her in with one arm so she could rest on him easily.
“Without a doubt in my mind.”
17 notes · View notes
midnighttmarauder · 4 years
Text
Full Moon
Pairing: Sirius Black x Lupin!reader 
Summary: Reader is Remus’ twin sister and has always felt guilty that she managed to escape a life of lycanthropy. During a particularly bad full moon, she can’t get rid of the feeling that something is wrong, so she follows the Marauders out into the night.
Warnings: blood, violence, injuries
***
You were there the night that your brother was bitten by Fenrir Greyback. Ever since you could remember, you and Remus had been attached at the hip. Your mother claimed that the two of you shared a bond that she had never seen before, one that went deeper than that of most twins. He could predict the ends of your sentences, and often finished them for you—a habit that you loathed yet somehow found endearing. Wherever you went, Remus was never far behind. You didn’t even mind having to share a room with him, not when he snored or muttered in his sleep. But when Greyback had crept through your window that fateful night, you weren’t sure why he went for Remus first.
It was a miracle, your mother had said, that the werewolf hadn’t seen you trembling beneath your quilt. That your father had woken up in time to stop Greyback from damning both you and Remus to a life of lycanthropy. But there was no miracle, not really, because your father hadn’t been able to stop Greyback from biting Remus. You hated that he had to go through it alone—it seemed to be the one thing in life that you didn’t share. A part of you wished that you had done something to stop Greyback, but what could you have done? You and Remus were only four when it happened after all.
Remus never let you help with his transformations. Your father always snuck him away before the full moon and refused to tell you where they were going. When you and Remus went to Hogwarts, you begged him to let you become an animagus along with your friends, but he’d adamantly refused. James and Sirius had been all for it and thought that it would be useful to have the extra help, but Remus had glared at them until they’d agreed with him.
“I know you feel guilty that this happened to me, but it’s not your fault that I’m a werewolf and you’re not. I don’t want this life for you, Y/N,” he had said.
Guilty didn’t even begin to cover how you felt. It made you sick to your stomach every month when Remus would disappear and return in the morning, his ashen skin battered and bruised. You were desperate to find something to do to make up for it, something to atone for the fact that he was suffering while you lay in bed, listening to his tortured howls in the distance.
***
“Absolutely not,” Sirius said. You trailed after him, struggling to keep up as he marched towards the quidditch pitch.
“C’mon, please? He doesn’t have to know,” you replied.
“No, Y/N. I’m not helping you become an illegal animagus behind your brother’s back. He already said no two years ago. I don’t think his answer’s going to change,” Sirius insisted.
“You didn’t care that it was illegal when you did it,” you countered. Sirius turned and began to walk backwards, rolling his eyes at you.
“It’s not the illegal part that I’m worried about. It’s Moony. I’d rather face the wrath of the Ministry than him. I’m not doing it,” he said.
“Why not?” you asked. Sirius gave you an incredulous look and opened his mouth to answer. “No, I know, because of Remus. But why won’t you really help me?”
Sirius sighed and stopped walking, bracing his hands on his hips as he said, “First of all—Moony is my best friend. I’m not going to go behind his back. He said no when we became animagi in fifth year, and I know that his answer hasn’t changed since. Second of all—you’re my girlfriend and I don’t want you to get hurt. It’s a stupid, selfish reason, but it’s a reason, nonetheless. Remus isn’t your brother anymore when he transforms. He’s gone after me and James before and he’s hurt us. I don’t want that to happen you. And third—the process to become an animagus fucking sucks. You remember us having to hold mandrake leaves in our mouths for a month. It was disgusting. I don’t recommend it.”
“Okay,” you replied with a dramatic sigh. “Those are valid reasons. But I still want to help.”
Sirius groaned and looked around for a moment, as if searching for his patience, then reached out to cup your cheeks in his hands. He stooped to look you in the eyes, ensuring that you were truly listening to him.
“You’re even more stubborn than your brother. My answer is no, and it’s always going to be no. Don’t even bother asking James or Peter, because they’re going to say the same thing. The only other person you could ask is McGonagall, and before you get any ideas, that would be insanely stupid. Not even I would do that. D’you understand?” he asked.
“Fine. I guess I’ll just have to keep making him his wolfsbane,” you said. Sirius poked your bottom lip as you pouted.
“That’s already a huge help for him, and you know it. C’mere,” he muttered, pulling you into a hug. He rested his chin on your head as you tucked yourself into his chest with a sigh.
“Go before James kicks your ass for being late to practice,” you said, your voice muffled by his robes.
“Since you’re already here, and my good luck charm, you wanna watch?” Sirius asked.
“I wouldn’t miss James yelling at you for the world.”
***
The full moon was taking an unprecedented toll on Remus. You had never seen him so on edge the week before the moon, not even when he was first learning to deal with his transformations. The wolfsbane that you had made him didn’t seem to be working—even Professor Slughorn was stumped. You knew it was going to be hard for Remus, but it was going to be even more difficult for your friends to keep him under control.
“We’ll see you soon,” James said over his shoulder as he walked through the portrait hole, Peter trailing close behind him.
“Sirius,” you called, grabbing his hand before he could follow. He hummed and turned to look at you, concern flitting across his face. “Be careful. I’ve never seen him like that.”
“We always are,” Sirius replied.
“I’m worried. Let me come and help you,” you said.
“Absolutely not. The best thing you can do is wait for us to come back. I don’t know what I’ll do if you get hurt. Besides, think about what it’ll do to Remus if he hurts you by accident. It’s too dangerous. Just…sit tight, and we’ll be back before you know it,” he muttered.
“I love you,” you said.
“I love you, too,” Sirius replied. He slipped a hand to the back of your neck and pressed a kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered against your skin for a moment, before he pulled away and gave you a tight nod. Your stomach dropped as you watched him disappear through the portrait hole.
***
You knew that you were being stupid. Knew it as soon as you stepped outside of the castle and into the moonlight. You’d had a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right, and had managed to sit patiently like Sirius had asked for all of two hours before you decided to go investigate. The dewy grass slipped beneath your shoes as you clutched your wand, using the moonlight to navigate across the grounds.
A howl in the distance startled you so much that you dropped your wand. You cursed as you dropped to your knees and began to search for it. Just as you caught a glimpse of it a few feet away, a cloud passed over the moon, and the courtyard went dark.
“Lumos,” you muttered.
Nothing happened. You gritted your teeth and tried again. Still nothing. There was no sign of your wand anywhere as you began to run your hands across the cool grass. A cool breeze raised goosebumps on the back of your neck. You hissed through your teeth as your hand caught on a rock, warm blood blooming across your skin. With a muffled curse, you wiped your palm impatiently on your jumper and went back to looking for your wand. The cloud moved away from the moon just as your hand closed around the handle. You let out a triumphant laugh to yourself and got to your feet, brushing the dirt off your knees.
A twig snapped behind you.
You whirled, dread turning your blood to ice, and felt your entire body go numb as Remus crouched in front of you. But it wasn’t really your brother—not when his eyes held such carnal rage.
The last time you had seen Remus as a wolf was when you were children. You had caught a glimpse of him as he’d transformed back into himself, but he was much smaller then. He was short, gangly, and looked like a harmless pup. This wolf towered over you, its powerful limbs capable of clawing you in half, its teeth sharp enough to tear you to shreds. You took a shaky step back with raised hands as Remus sniffed at the air, his eyes zeroing in on the blood staining your palm.
“Remus,” you muttered, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “It’s me, Y/N. Your sister. You know me, don’t you?”
He growled deep in his chest. Your heart leapt into your throat as you took another step backwards.
“Please, I know you’re in there. You know who I am, it’s Y/N. Please, Remus, you have to remember me,” you pleaded.
Remus stopped advancing for a moment, tilting his head to one side. He seemed to be listening. You nodded encouragingly.
“That’s it. It’s me. Just let me go back to the castle. I’m sorry I came out here. Please, just let me go,” you said.
A bark sounded as a stag and a big black dog erupted from the forbidden forest. Remus let out a terrible howl and launched at you.  
“No!” you screamed, but it was too late. You barely had time to put your hands in front of your face as he slashed at you, his claws ripping at your arms. You hit the ground hard, the wolf landing on top of you and knocking the air out of your lungs.
A flurry of black collided with the wolf, knocking him off of you. You choked on the air that rushed back into your lungs as you rolled over and stumbled to your feet. The stag ran in front of you and pushed you gently back with its horns, but you were rooted to the spot. You watched in terror as the wolf and the dog fought, the sounds of snapping teeth and savage growls filling the night.
“Sirius!” you yelled. The wolf turned its attention back to you, and a jolt of terror went up your spine at the feral look in its eyes. It knocked the dog aside, and the scream you let out ripped your throat as Sirius yelped and went limp. The stag pushed you once more and turned to keep Remus back, but he was already reaching for you.
You put your hands over your head and spun away, screaming as claws tore your shoulder open. A bark sounded over the ringing in your ears, and you were distantly aware of the black dog running towards you. The world went dark before your head hit the ground.
***
A burning ache in your shoulder roused you from your sleep. There was a weight on your arm, and you found yourself unable to lift it as you blinked your eyes open. The warm candlelight of the hospital wing slowly came into focus as you began to make sense of the sounds around you. Madam Pomfrey murmuring to your right, the clink of potion bottles that sent a spike of pain through your head, steady breathing beside you.
You looked down and smiled at Sirius, fast asleep with his head on your arm, clutching your hand in one of his. A stained bandage around his shoulder poked out from beneath his undershirt. You lifted your free hand, grimacing at the pain that shot up your arm, and ran your fingers gently over the bruise blooming on his cheek. He didn’t stir as you traced the contours of his face with your fingertips, skipping over the cuts littering his skin. You brushed his curls away from his brow as Madam Pomfrey bustled by, sending you a small smile and a promise to hurry back.
“Y/N,” a voice said to your left. You turned your head and smiled up at James. He looked to be in better shape than you and Sirius, only a few noticeable bruises scattered across his skin.
“Where’s Remus?” you asked. James blew out a breath and sank onto the mattress.
“Just across from you. He’s in bad shape, Y/N,” he replied, jutting his chin at the bed across from yours. The curtains were drawn, and there was no sign of movement behind them.
“Is he awake?” you asked.
“He woke up an hour ago for a little bit and fell back asleep. I didn’t tell him what happened, but he remembered bits and pieces. He knows that he hurt you and he feels awful about it,” James said.
“Let me go talk to him,” you replied. You took your hand away from where it rested in Sirius’ hair and threw off your covers. Just as you were about to pull yourself out of Sirius’ grasp, James put a hand on your shoulder and pushed you gently back against your pillows.
“Pomfrey says you’re not allowed out of bed yet. As soon as Moony wakes back up, I’ll bring him over,” James said, tucking your blanket back around you.
“How are you doing?” you asked.
“I’m okay. Professor Dumbledore came just after you passed out and helped us before anything got worse. I dunno what I would’ve done if Dumbledore hadn’t come,” James muttered. You sighed and put your hand on his knee.
“You would’ve done what you had to, to keep us safe,” you replied. James considered it for a moment, before nodding as if he was trying to convince himself. He patted your arm and stood, glancing over at Sirius.
“I’m gonna go sit with Moony for a bit. Looks like sleeping beauty’s finally awake,” James said. You looked back at Sirius and smiled as his grey eyes met yours. He gave you a tired grin and sat up, tightening his grip on your hand.
“How are you feeling?” you asked. Sirius let out a mirthless laugh.
“How am I feeling? I should be asking you that,” he replied.
“Well, I asked first,” you said.
“I’m alright. A little sore, but I’ll be fine in a few days. It’s not the first time I’ve been thrown around like that.” At the panic in your eyes, he added, “Not by Moony. I’ve been in…y’know, fights and stuff before.”
“Did it hurt a lot? When you two were fighting? Merlin, he didn’t bite you did he?” you asked, your eyes darting across every inch of exposed skin you could find.
“No, love, he didn’t bite me,” Sirius replied. He cupped your cheek with his free hand and ran his thumb soothingly along your cheekbone. “It hurt, but I’m okay now. I promise. Now, enough about me. How do you feel?”
“My shoulder hurts like a bitch and I’ve got a bit of a headache. But I’ll be okay,” you said.
“And how do you…feel?” Sirius asked.
“I’m not scared of him, if that’s what you’re asking,” you replied.
“I didn’t mean it like that, I just-”
“Yes, you did,” you interrupted. Sirius sighed and grabbed your other hand, cupping both of them in his palms. He brought your joined hands up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to your knuckles.
“It’s normal to be scared. I know you might feel guilty about it because he’s your brother, but it’s okay. I was scared after our first full moon. I couldn’t look at him for a week because every time I did, I saw the wolf. But I came to understand that he has no control over what he does when he transforms. He used to cry because he couldn’t remember what he did. Now he asks for a report every month of everything he does as the wolf. One time I told him that he killed a bird, and he cried for hours. Remus and the wolf aren’t the same. You may think you understand that now, but when you look at him, you’re going to doubt it,” he said.
“You don’t know that,” you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes.
“Maybe not. But just know that if that’s how you feel when he wakes up…that’s okay,” Sirius murmured. Something about the gentle tone in his voice and the way he was stroking your knuckles made the tears you were biting back spill over onto your cheeks. Sirius moved to sit beside you on the bed, reaching to wipe your tears as he pulled you into his side.
“I was terrified. I know I was stupid for going outside, but I just had this bad feeling. I felt useless and I wanted to do something to help. I tried to reason with him, but he didn’t recognize me. There wasn’t a shred of my brother in that wolf. I don’t even think I’ve made the connection that it was him yet,” you said.
“I know, love. We’ll all be here when you do,” Sirius muttered.
“I thought he was going to kill me,” you whispered.
“I would never let that happen. I swear,” Sirius said, pulling you closer as if he could shield you from the very idea. You sighed and tucked yourself against him, wincing as you bumped your shoulder against his side.
“I don’t think I want to be an animagus anymore,” you muttered. Sirius’ laugh vibrated against you.
“Music to my ears.”
***
You had already taken two naps by the time Remus woke up again. You started as the curtains around his bed tore open and watched as he stumbled to his feet. Sirius squeezed your hand.
“Moony, slow down! You’ll rip your stitches,” James chastised. He put an arm around Remus’ back and helped him straighten up.
Your breath hitched as Remus’ eyes met yours. There was no sign of the wolf in them, no rage or hunger, but your stomach still leapt into your throat. You only saw guilt in your brother’s eyes as James helped him sink into the chair beside your bed, and then Remus was falling apart.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you,” he sobbed. You shushed him and pulled yourself out of Sirius’ arms, swinging your legs over the edge of your bed so you were sitting in front of your brother.
“It’s okay. I’m alright,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around Remus’ shaking shoulders. Your heart clenched as he pulled himself out of your embrace.
“No, I don’t deserve that. I’m a monster,” he said.
“Remus-”
“Don’t! I nearly killed you! I remember wanting to hurt you. Smelling the blood on your hand and wanting it,” Remus cried. You rubbed subconsciously at the bandage wrapped around your palm. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. You’re my sister, and I did this to you!”
“You didn’t do anything. It was the wolf,” you insisted.
“No, you don’t understand,” Remus muttered.
“You’re right. I don’t understand what it’s like to be a werewolf. But I know you, Remus. I know that you would never want to hurt anyone. You can’t control what you do when you transform. If you could, you would be the most docile werewolf in the world. You wouldn’t hurt a soul. I don’t blame you for what you did,” you said.
“Are you scared of me?” he asked. You paused and turned to look at Sirius, seeing only love and reassurance in his eyes. When you turned back to Remus, your heart clenched at how broken he looked.
“I could never be scared of my brother,” you replied. Remus sobbed and didn’t push you away as you wrapped your arms around him again. He tensed for a moment, before sagging against you and returning your embrace. You felt Sirius wrap his arms around you and Remus, and then James did the same. They were like anchors, keeping you and your brother afloat as you cried together.
“I love you,” Remus whispered. You realized that he was saying it nobody in particular.
“We love you, too.”
392 notes · View notes
eberles · 4 years
Text
Memories
Jamie Oleksiak
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Request: Hello!:) Can you write something (super) sad with Jamie Oleksiak? I don’t have a specific idea in my mind so I’d like to leave it up to you completely if that’s okay 💕
A/N: officially the longest thing i’ve ever written coming in at 5300 words!! based this fic off of The Vow, so it’s sad but not like sad sad. i hope you enjoy it i feel like this is one of my best works so hopefully you guys think so too! 🥰 italics = flashback
Warnings: angst, sad, mentions of car accidents & hospitals
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Every Friday you and Jamie had a date night, it was the one night a week the two of you could wind down with each other and you never missed it unless Jamie was on a roadie. This Friday you guys went to your favorite restaurant and saw a movie after, the movie was some stupid romantic comedy and in all it’s cheesy glory it had the two of you laughing all the way to the car after the movie. It was a fairly hot night in Dallas, both you and Jamie wearing shorts and light t-shirts, walking back to the car hand in hand at around 11 PM. 
“AC, I need the AC.” you groaned, buckling your seatbelt, not even in the car for a whole minute before complaining about the horrible heat. 
“Don’t pressure her, it takes a few minutes.” Jamie spoke, softly patting the steering wheel as if to give the car some comfort after your harsh tone towards “her.” You laughed, putting up your hands in surrender as Jamie buckled his seatbelt and began pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road. It was fairly quiet tonight in Dallas not many cars on the road, so you and Jamie decided to have some fun and sing along to the radio at full blast not having a care in the world. Pulling up to a stop sign, you looked around before turning the music down and undoing your seatbelt, smirking at your husband in the driver's seat. 
“You know, i’ve always wanted to get knocked up in a car.” you whispered as seductively as possible, Jamie smiling at you, his eyes going wide once he realized, and you took no time to lean over the center console and press your lips against his. Tonight was supposed to be like every other Friday night, dinner, movie, sex, it sounded simple, but it was truthfully all you wanted and everything you looked forward to during the week. Tonight ended differently than your other Friday night dates, only a few seconds into kissing and there wasn’t anything to stop what happened next. You never predicted for your once blissfully in love moment to be completely ruined within a matter of seconds. You couldn’t have predicted the drunk driver speeding up behind you and shoving your car full force through the intersection. Yet it happened. With your seatbelt undone the collision caused you to go right through the front windshield, your head suffering most of the damages as you landed on the hood unconscious.
Everyone’s life was based on moments and how one decision you make could impact you for the rest of your life, no matter how big or small. Jamie felt that meeting you was one of life’s greatest joys, he knew the second he saw you that you were meant to be, that you were his one true love. Jamie used the one opportunity he was given to talk to you and he knew it would change his life forever. 
-4 years ago-
Jamie couldn’t stop staring at the back of your head from a few feet away from you in line at his favorite coffee shop. You paid the barista and said “thank you” before turning around with your drink and walking passed Jamie, stopping at the door briefly to turn and look back at him realizing that he was already looking at you with a small smirk. You gave him a smile and continued out the door and made it the short distance to where your car was parked. 
“Ugh!” you groaned, turning around almost bumping into Jamie who came walking up behind you with a small bag in his hand. 
“You forgot your bagel.” Jamie smiled, handing you the bag feeling giddy inside that he was given the opportunity to talk to you. 
“Thank you, you’d think I would remember my breakfast after spending 20 minutes waiting for it.” you laughed, looking up at his broad figure just now noticing how tall he really is. 
“Yea, it’s what i’m here for.” Jamie said, mentally face palming at the corny line he just gave you. 
“Um, i’m Y/N.” you reached your hand out to him, and noticed a small blush on his face. 
“Jamie.” he shook your hand, both of you laughing awkwardly and pulling away from each other.
“Well, thank you for this.” you said, opening your car door handle.
“You know, um, I noticed that we have the same coffee order.” Jamie mumbled, and you turned back to look at him, a smirk showing on your face. 
“Is that so?” 
“Yup.” Jamie nodded his head, as if to confirm it and you could already feel the butterflies bubbling in your stomach. 
“How intimate.” you giggled, keeping your eyes on his and noticing how the squint when he smiles.
“I was thinking, we should drink our coffees together. You know, to create a bond over our joint tastes...in coffee.” Jamie said, looking down at you and giving his award winning smile. You agreed closing your car door, the two of you walking back into Weekend Coffee together. You grabbed a table while Jamie ordered his coffee and pastry, coming back to the table and telling you he swears by their pastries. It took Jamie all of about 5 minutes to fall in love with you and you with him. The next few months were spent getting to know each other and falling for each other's quirks and habits. 
Jamie woke up in the hospital with virtually no injuries having to listen to the doctor explain to him that his wife was in a medically induced coma. He sat by your side as often as he could and made sure to place your wedding band on your finger where it belongs. Jamie replayed the significant moments in your relationship in his head while he sat by you. 
“Babe, you can’t keep doing that.” Jamie walked outside to where you were crouched over a grey cat giving him some food to eat. 
“I know, but I love him.” you frowned, going back inside his apartment.
“I can’t keep him though, I'm allergic.” Jamie mentioned, and you knew that already, but the poor cat having to stay outside in the heat made your heart ache. 
“Do you want some fruit? I bought it this morning.” you pulled the bowl of fresh fruit out of Jamie’s refrigerator and looked at him while he just smiled at you. Jamie, in those moments, confirmed the thoughts he’d been having for a while now. “What?”
“I want you to move in.” Jamie continued looking at you as he flipped the pancakes he was making for breakfast and you gasped.
“Yes!” you put the fruit down on the counter, coming up behind Jamie and pulling him away from the stove to give him a kiss. 
Jamie smiled at the memory, and looked over at you with a tear in his eye. You had a tube down your throat connected to a ventilator to help you breathe and he couldn’t get over the sight. He blinked back the tears and put his head in his hands thinking about your wedding. 
“I vow to always love you, and always try the new pastry flavors at the cafe, no matter how weird they may be.” you said looking up into Jamie’s eyes, making him and both your friends laugh at your vow to him. 
“You wrote your vows on a Weekend Coffee menu?” Jamie asked, noticing the paper in your hand and you smiled shyly holding it up over your face. Jamie held the same menu up with his vows on it and you both laughed in shock. “Okay, I vow to love every bit of you, now and forever. I promise that no matter what gets in our way, we will always find our way back to each other.” Jamie said, promising his love to you in every way as long as you were both alive. 
“Do you take each other as man and wife?” 
“I do.” Jamie said proudly, a wide smile covering his face.
“I do.” you smiled just as big, letting a happy laugh leave your throat as you said it. The wedding was small, just having Jamie’s bestest friends there who grew to be your friends as well over the years and you wouldn’t have had it any other way. 
A few days later you started breathing on your own so the doctors removed you from the ventilator and told Jamie you should be waking up soon and you did. The nurse told Jamie to give you some space when you woke up, knowing that you wouldn’t be fully coherent and probably scared.
“Hey.” Jamie whispered from the end of your hospital bed, seeing the eyes he fell in love with finally flutter open. You looked around the room feeling confused and avoiding eye contact with Jamie. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Y/N, it’s okay. You’re in the hospital, you were in a car accident, you suffered from some head injuries, but you’re okay.” the nurse explained in a soothing tone.
“Was anyone else hurt, doctor?” you asked softy, looking directly at Jamie and feeling uncomfortable under his confused gaze. 
“What?” Jamie whispered, feeling his voice about to give out. “Y/N, you know who I am right?”
“You’re my doctor.” you stated, and watched as the man in front of you looked at the nurse and back at you before coming to sit in the chair beside you.
“Um, i’m your husband.” Jamie said, reaching for your hand and feeling his heart break when you pulled away from him holding a scared expression on your face. You glanced down at your left hand gasping when you noticed the wedding ring. Jamie walked out of your hospital room with the nurse feeling frustrated as she explained how brain injuries were hard to diagnose because of how unpredictable the brain is. 
“She doesn’t remember me!” Jamie said frustratedly, pulling at the ends of his hair. 
“The swelling in the brain can cause confusion and memory loss sometimes, but it’s normal.” the nurse explained, watching Jamie walk down the hallway of the hospital with tears in his eyes. 
Jamie went home to pack a bag for you and came back to the hospital later that night. He fell asleep laying on a few of the chairs in the waiting room and was woken up by you tapping his shoulder lightly. 
“Hi.” Jamie said sitting up, his voice gravely from the short slumber he was in.
“What are you doing?” you asked, wrapping your hospital robe tighter around your body.
“Sleeping.” Jamie yawned, and you smiled awkwardly before nodding your head. Jamie grabbed the bag he packed for you and moved it closer to you. “I brought you some clothes.”
“Thanks.” you spoke, sitting on one of the chairs next to him. “I’m hungry.” 
“Okay.” Jamie laughed, grabbing your bag and walking with you to the hospital cafeteria. Jamie explained to you that you were a painter and had your own studio and you were shocked to find out you didn’t follow through with going to med school. 
“I remember being in med school and...being engaged to Samuel.” you said, noticing how Jamie put his head down a little. “I just, I don’t know.” you got up from your seat in the cafeteria heading up the stairs hearing Jamie run after you.
“Babe, babe, just wait!” Jamie called after you and you tensed hearing the pet name he used, but stopped on the stairs turning to look at him.
“The best thing you can do is to go back to your life, with me. You heard what the doctor said.” Jamie said, putting emphasis on the word “best.”
“But I don’t know you. So what? I’m just supposed to go back to a stranger's place.”
“It’s our place.” 
“There’s no proof of our love? A journal?” you asked, feeling helpless. Of course, you wanted to believe Jamie was your husband for the right reasons and that you were in love with him, but it was so hard for you. 
The next day you got ready to leave with your parents not feeling like going home with Jamie was even an option at this point. 
“Wait hold on, I have a letter you sent when I was away.” Jamie ran into your room, holding up his phone. “You said you wanted proof.”
Hey baby,
I’m at the studio right now and I miss you so bad these paintings are starting to look like you. I’m sending you a letter because I thought it would be a fun surprise for you on your roadie. I hope it actually makes it to you. Anyways, I love you and I can’t wait to see you when you come home next week.
Love you always,
Y/N
“Just think about it, you quit med school, you pursued being an artist, you moved to Dallas. These are all things you did way before meeting me, you know it to yourself to at least experience the life you set up for yourself.” Jamie said, grabbing onto your hands and pouring his heart into those few sentences. “Come home with me.” 
“I guess I could try it out, to see if it will help my memory. If it doesn’t work out, i’ll come home.” you turned to look at your parents as you spoke and your parents understood. They loved Jamie and just wanted the best for you. You drove home with Jamie taking everything from Dallas in on your ride from the hospital. You spent the night looking around your shared apartment at the pictures and smelling the perfumes you had on your vanity. Nothing felt familiar when you went to sleep alone, Jamie sleeping on the living room couch. 
When you woke up you took a shower and came out disturbed to find out you had a tattoo of a bird on your shoulder, and changed into an oversized sweatshirt before going into the kitchen area where Jamie was.
“You look nice.” Jamie said, smirking slightly, taking in your interesting clothing choices.
“Really? This is the only thing of mine I feel comfortable in.” you said, hugging the material around your body awkwardly. 
“That’s mine actually.” Jamie laughed, pointing to the Stars logo on the front and you laughed while apologizing and he assured you it was okay that you wear it. Jamie went to practice and you managed to find the video of your wedding chuckling at your corny vows and tears up at Jamie’s. You noticed the name of the cafe on the menus and decided to go there for the afternoon. 
The next few weeks went by as seamlessly as they could when you’re suffering from amnesia. You and Jamie made small talk in the mornings and at night before retreating to your own beds. Nothing felt normal for you, but you were trying everyday to discover new things around the apartment that might jog your memory while Jamie was at practice. Today you were feeling curious about your old life and Samuel and how things ended between the two of you when you remember being so blissfully in love with him. You called your mom and asked where he worked so you could visit him and although she was hesitant on telling you she eventually gave you the information. You took a short bus ride to locate his office building that he worked at and asked the receptionist to show you where his office is. 
“Hi.” you said walking into his office, smiling widely when he turned to look at you and you realized he hadn’t changed a bit. 
“Y/N.” Samuel said, shocked to see you standing in his office after no many years apart. You explained to him what happened with the car accident and how the last thing you remember is being with him. 
“Can you please explain what happened with us?” you asked, shifting in your seat across from him in his office. 
“Only you would dump a guy and then come back and ask for answers.” Samuel said, fidgeting with the pen on his desk. “A cruel, pre wedding dumping.” 
“Why?” you asked, genuinely confused not fathoming why you would call off your wedding to the guy sitting in front of you.
“You just changed. You weren’t sure about med school anymore, and you really weren’t sure about me.” Samuel explained. “It’s okay though, i’ve been with Rose for about a year now.”
“Right.” you shook your head slightly disappointed that the guy you last remember loving had moved on from you. 
“I couldn’t wait forever, Y/N.” you nodded your head agreeing with him and stood up to leave. 
“I’ll let you get back to work.” you said, both of you going in for a hug, something you hadn’t felt in ages. Feeling Samuel’s arms wrap around your waist made you pull back to look at him before leaning in to kiss him with your hands cupping his cheeks. “I’m sorry.” you said, pulling away and walking out the door. 
The next day you woke up ready to explore a different part of your new life that you hadn’t yet understood. The artist side. The last time you wanted to be an artist you were in high school so owning your own studio and actually selling paintings to people was one of the biggest things you had to wrap your mind around. 
“I’m ready to see the studio.” you said at breakfast with Jamie, hoping he would take you there and show you around. 
“Yea? Alright! We’ll go after this.” Jamie said excitedly, ready to show you a huge part of who you were. It was a short walk from your apartment so after breakfast the two of you went there and Jamie unlocked the doors for you. 
“This is it.” he said, opening the door and letting you inside first to take everything in. “It’s cool right?”
“Wow.” you said slowly walking around the room, looking at all of your art supplies and paintings all over the room. 
“You used to come in here and blast the music and get so lost in your art.” Jamie explained, watching you look around at everything, stopping to touch a few of the pieces you had on the walls. Jamie handed you a paintbrush when you stopped in front of your latest unfinished piece and you hesitated before taking it. “Go ahead.”
“I don’t really know what i’m doing.” you felt panicked and insecure in those moments, with Jamie watching over you knowing he wanted nothing more than to know you still remember how to make art. 
“Hold on.” Jamie said, running over to the stereo you had in the corner of the room and turning it up loudly before walking back to you with a big smile on his face. “Just try it.”
“Can you just turn the music down please?” you asked, voice shaky feeling anxiety erupt in your stomach and spread all over your body. 
“I swear you used to listen to it way louder than this-” 
“I have a clinically bad fucking headache! Please turn it down!” you threw the paintbrush, yelling over the music at Jamie and rubbing your temples. Jamie turned off the music, feeling anger bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to blow up on you, but he wanted you to realize it was hard for him too.
“I’m trying to help you! We don’t speak to each other like this, Y/N. This is difficult for me too.” Jamie explained, before turning around and walking out of your studio. After he left you spent some more time looking around before going back to your apartment. Jamie went for a walk and stopped at your favorite takeout place before returning home to you. 
“Y/N?” Jamie called out, not seeing you in the living room.
“I’m in here.” you responded, and Jamie walked into your bedroom seeing you packing a bag. “My sister is getting married soon and I just feel like I should be there for her. She has an engagement party coming up so I want to help her with that.” 
“Okay, but what about your life here?” Jamie asked, watching you walk around your room grabbing more things to pack away.
“I don’t know, I just- I can’t do it.” you said. “I’m sorry, it’s just going to be until after the wedding.” 
You invited Jamie to your sister’s engagement party, per your family's request, and against your sisters. Your sister never minded Jamie, but she always preferred you with Samuel, since she was the reason you guys had met in the first place. Your parents insisted on Jamie being a part of this event, not as your date, but just so he could feel welcome in this aspect of your life since it was new for all of you.
“Y/N!” Jamie said, spotting you once he entered the backyard to where the party was happening.
“Jamie! You made it!” you said, walking over to him and noticing his suit. “You look nice.”
“I was thinking that we should try a new method. We should start from the beginning, and I would like to take you on a date.” 
“A date?” you asked, feeling uneasy at his question when you looked behind him briefly noticing Samuel. “I don’t know, the weddings coming up-”
“But if we go before that, you could still take me as your date.” Jamie said, smirking. Suddenly feeling smooth and confident with his choice of words. 
“Okay. A date.” you nodded your head in agreement, smiling widely up at Jamie before both of your attentions got turned to some toasts being made. 
A few days later and Jamie was getting ready for his date with you. He picked you up at your sister’s house, just outside of Dallas. 
“Where are we going?” you asked curiously, noticing that Jamie was driving back into the city. 
“It’s a surprise.” Jamie said, and not long after you made it to your first destination which was parked on the side of the road, you knew it looked familiar from the day you explored on your own, but you couldn’t pinpoint it. “This is the exact spot where we first met. I’m gonna take you down memory lane.” 
You guys got out of the car and headed into Weekend Coffee where Jamie brought you to the table you first sat at together and left to go up and get you the same order you both had that day. 
“This is my favorite pastry of all time and the day we met I forced you to try it.” Jamie said, sliding the pastry over to you for you to try. You took a small bite and moaned in satisfaction making both of you laugh at your reaction.
“It’s amazing!” you took another bite, and listened as Jamie explained to you how you always order that pastry and whatever new flavor they have that time and split them. The next stop on Jamie’s list was the rink where the Stars practice and also where he taught you how to skate very quickly into your relationship. 
“What do you think?” Jamie asked, handing you a sweatshirt to wear while you're inside the rink.
“Um, I can’t skate. I’ll eat ice.” you said, shaking your head and Jamie laughed throwing his head back.
“I got you, don’t worry.” Jamie said, finishing the laces on his skates before kneeling down to help you tie yours the proper way for them to be secure on your feet. Jamie stood up on his skates and walked towards the opening of the rink before turning to look at you. You nodded slowly wobbling behind him, and watching as he expertly took his place on the ice.
“Hold my hand.” you shrieked, holding both your hands out for him to take. Jamie grabbed a hold of your hands and led you onto the ice, but he quickly moved his hands to your waist to help stabilize you.
After a little while of him holding you tightly, you hadn’t realized when he started pulling away from you and you were skating on your own. You gasped realizing he was watching you from about a foot away and that caused you to lose your balance. You felt your skates come up from under you and you closed your eyes bracing yourself for the fall, but it never came jamie saving the fall, holding you in his arms.
“Oh my god! I thought I was gonna die!” you yelped, and looked up at Jamie seeing him smiling down at you.
“I think you learned even quicker this time around.” Jamie smirked, standing you up straight  on your skates. The two of you wrapped up the lesson and made your way back out to his car.
“Kiss me.” you said to Jamie once both of you were in the car. Jamie looked at you with wide eyes and you were already smiling confidently at him. 
“Are you sure?” Jamie asked, already starting to lean into you and you nodded your head yes before pulling him in by the back of the neck. Jamie put everything he had in that kiss and you could feel all his emotions pouring into it. 
“This is nice.” you said, pulling away with a smile on your lips. Jamie nodded, leaning in to kiss you again, finally letting himself feel safe in your embrace because for the first time in months he felt close to you again. You pulled apart both of you breathing heavy and your faces flushed and Jamie drove you back to your sisters house and of course, walked you to the door like a gentleman. 
“I miss you. I miss us. I love you.” Jamie said, and you gave him a sad smile before looking around to avoid meeting his gaze.
“I should get inside. Goodnight Jamie.” you walked into the house, giving him a small smile before closing the door. When you walked inside your sister was sitting on the couch watching tv and waiting for you. 
“Hey! Were you out with Samuel?” your sister asked excited. 
“No, I was with Jamie. I like him.” you smiled, trying to fight off the tears beginning to pool in your eyes, but that didn’t help and they came rushing down your face.
A few days later and it was your sister's wedding, you didn’t bring Jamie as your date knowing that it wouldn’t be fair to him to give him that kind of hope. Jamie kept his distance with you, not wanting to overwhelm you with his presence at the reception. 
“Hey, you want me to introduce you to people. Can’t feel good to be the one left out.” Samuel said, coming over to where Jamie was standing at the bar.
“I’m not the one left out.” Jamie said confidently. 
“If you say so. You just seem weird over here all by yourself.” Samuel laughed, getting his drink from the bartender. 
“I’m just waiting for Y/N.” Jamie said, slight irritation in his tone of voice
“Good luck with that.” Samuel said, starting to walk away from the bar.
“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” Jamie asked, before Samuel could get too far away. “Y/N leaves you, has a whole life without you with some new guy that's different and now you get to watch her reject all of that.”
“I like it a little bit, I guess.” Samuel smirked, a condescending chuckle falling from his lips. 
“You wanna know what I like? I like that Y/N told me everything about you, that when she was with you she’d wake up at night panicking thinking, ‘is this all there is?’” Jamie said, taking a sip from his drink.
“She told you everything?” Samuel asked, a smile on his face. “Did she tell you that she kissed me a few weeks ago?” 
“Look, you obviously love her and think that you're gonna get her back, but she outgrew you. It’ll probably happen again, man.” Jamie said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Well, i’ll be sure to think about that when i’m in bed with your wife.” Samuel said, and that was the final straw for Jamie as he threw a punch to his face knocking Samuel to the ground. 
“Jamie!” you yelled, running over and seeing Samuel on the ground. Jamie turned to look at you and ran after you. 
“What was that?” you felt Jamie coming up behind you so you stopped short turning around once you were out of earshot from everyone. 
“I’ve been driving myself crazy trying everything possible to save us and you’ve been kissing Samuel?” Jamie said, frustration hitting him like a brick. 
“That’s not fair!” you said, looking up at Jamie.
“No? I see the way you look at him, it’s the same way you used to look at me.” Jamie whispered, looking at the ground and back up at you. “Your memory’s not coming back. I’m a stranger.”
“I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to hurt you Jamie. I’m so tired of disappointing you.” you let the tears fall down your face freely.
“I know. How do you look at the girl you love and tell yourself it’s time to leave?”Jamie asked, before turning and walking away from you. 
9 Months Later
You were finally getting around to unpack your things from Jamie’s apartment. You hadn’t realized the last box was holding something very near and dear to your heart. It was your wedding vows, the ones written on Weekend Coffee menus. 
“I vow to help you love life, to always hold you with tenderness, and to have the patients that love demands.” you read the menu outloud, feeling a pang in your chest and your breath hitch in your throat. You decided to take a ride to the small cafe where everything started, upon arriving you saw Jamie outside the doors reading the “closed” sign on the glass. Jamie turned, walking away from the door and doing a double take as he saw you approaching and stopped in his tracks.
“Hi.” Jamie said, walking closer to meet you halfway on the sidewalk.
“Hi.” you responded, both of you stopping in front of each other.
“I hope you didn’t come all the way to the city for a pastry.” Jamie said, turning to look back at the sign.
“Actually, I moved back here six months ago.” you said, smiling up at Jamie.
“Really? That’s great.” 
“I’ve actually started to paint again.”
“That’s amazing!” 
“It’s crazy what my hands remember, that my mind forgot you know?” you said, gesturing to your head as you spoke. “So, thank you.”
“Wasn’t me.” Jamie said, shaking his head noticing the tears pooling in your eyes.
“Yes it was. You did everything. You never wanted anything but the best for me.” you said, reassuring Jamie, wiping the tears that started to fall down your face.
“I just wanted you to be happy.” Jamie confirmed. 
“Isn’t there somewhere we used to go when this place closed?” you asked, smirking at Jamie hoping he’s getting the hint that you want to go out with him. 
“Yea, let’s go.” Jamie said, both of you walking the same direction. Jamie smiling down at you when you reached for his hand. 
You never regained your memory, but the love between you and Jamie was true, it was real and raw and able to be felt no matter what forces were between you. It was a love that anyone could feel being in the same room as you, it was kind, patient, and honest. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
taglist: @sortagaysortahigh​ @sweeterthansammy​ @butgilinsky​ @kiedhara​ @taiter-tots​ @jjmaybanksbaby​ @jamiedrysdales​ @ana-maa​ @iamtheblondestblonde​ @elitebarzal​ @softboybarzal​ @himbos-on-ice​ @bestestbenn​ @dreamypeaches​ @mycaptaintazer​ @dunnerbarzal​ @matbarzall​ @sidscrosbyy​ @calgarycanuck​ @celestialblae​ @jackiesquinn​​
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Title: That Old Thing Back {One Shot} ***
Charlie Hunnam x Ex-Wife Reader
Warning: Cursing, Angst, POV Changes, LOTS OF WORDS, NSFW, Mentions of miscarriage
Words: 8,888k 
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Note: Okay, this is a first for Charlie. I am not familiar with his mannerisms at all, so I hope this hits well. If not, anon, I am sorry. As always, thank you all for reading! Also, y’all see 8888 words. 8888 must mean something right.
 ***Loosely Edited/Proofread***
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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When you meet someone, within minutes, you know what you want from them. After the first conversation, you know what capacity you want them in your life. After a week, you know just how you feel about them. Charlie could attest to this. When he first saw you, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. He was mesmerized by you and just sat and marveled as you danced around the great lawn of the park he happened to be in that afternoon. You looked carefree and so full of life. Nine other women were dancing with you, but he could only see you.
 That led him to stalk you for the remainder of the afternoon. Once the class was finished, he followed behind you and listened to your conversation as you walked through the streets and fell deeper under your spell. Your voice was like a finely tuned melody that sounded better than any song he’d ever heard. He sat in the same restaurant you did and just watched you as you spoke and laughed. Every story you told was so animated he felt like he’d been right there when it happened. You were the most captivating creature he’d ever seen.
 By the time he knew what had happened, he’d pushed his entire day to the side and had followed you, and he didn’t regret one thing. When he least expected it, you confronted him and called him out on his stalker antics, and that only made him want to know you more. It was the perfect imperfect meet. From that day, the two of you had been inseparable. You spent all your free time together. When he told you his aspiration to be an actor, you didn’t laugh or tell him to forget it and be more practical. You were his biggest supporter, and he fell harder for you.
A whirlwind, passion-filled eight-month romance led to him proposing and begging you to spend your life with him. When you excitedly screamed yes and leaped on him in the middle of the restaurant, everyone around you elated and showered you with applause and well wishes. The two of you didn’t bother waiting. A month later, you were married and more in love than ever. Neither of you were prepared when CJ came around, but it made your love deeper, your marriage stronger.
 You were by his side as he struggled through audition after audition, waiting for his big break. You were there rejection after rejection, always having his back and pushing him never to give up. You were his backbone, and when that role came, you were right there for him. The rolls came in one after the other, which meant he was gradually becoming busier and busier. Before you knew it, he was always on a movie set, and you were always home with CJ.
 No one prepared him for the struggles of marriage, a baby, and his budding career. He was warned about it by his agent early on, but he swore the two of you had what it took to withstand any and all struggles. He hadn’t factored himself in as a struggle. Thanks to his rapid rise to fame, everyone wanted a piece of him, and when they took their piece, there was none left for you. The arguments increased, and the miscommunication and unsaid words took a toll. The space that formed between you was wide enough to classify them as chasms.
 It seemed like he couldn’t do anything right. Everything he said was wrong. When he took a weekend off of work, it was wrong because you found it clear he would rather be working. When he tried to get close to you for any affection, you were always tired from your day with CJ, and every time you tried, he was too busy. He got lost in the Hollywood lifestyle, the parties, the socializing, the life that was bullshit, and had nothing on you or CJ. He turned into the monster in the fairytale, the monster that mothers warned their daughters about.
 He’d lost track of how many times he’d heard you crying, lost track of how many times he’d struggled with what to do, how to be. It wasn’t that he wanted to hurt you, he just didn’t know how to be who you wanted, how you needed him to be. The last straw was him missing your birthday to remain at the Cannes Film Festival, the festival he got pictured in a compromising position. One he was entirely at fault for, but one where absolutely nothing happened. The last thing you said to him was, “Your priorities are all fucked up, if you don’t want us fine I’ll solve the problem.”
 He came home to divorce papers and an empty house and not too long after you were in the hospital suffering from a miscarriage. A miscarriage the doctors blamed on stress, a miscarriage you blamed on him, a miscarriage he blamed himself for. After that, you made it clear you were done with him. He had the thought to contest and fight for you, but he knew the same problems would still be there. He had to face the facts that you’d probably grown too far apart, and that he would only cause you pain. He had to let you go. So, let you go he did.
 Groaning, he rubbed his face trying to keep the sleep at bay. The sound of the waves at his Malibu home was the soothing back noise he needed. It was the same noise that propelled him deep into his state of depression. It was a sate he’d been fighting for the last year. He’d been mostly successful, but tonight was hard. Tonight, was the anniversary of what would have been your seventh wedding anniversary.
 The whole night he’d been haunted by memories, haunted by feelings, and haunted by every regret he’d held on to for the last near two years. He thought of scenarios where he should have said something when he hadn’t said anything. He thought about the times he didn’t do something when he should have dome something—anything. He regretted everything that led to this point, the point where he had no wife and a son he was missing that was growing up without seeing him every day.
 “Fuck!” His shout was loud, and though the beach was vast, it still somehow echoed around him. There was no escaping you. He’d tried like hell every day, especially when you moved said the most hurtful words you’d ever said to him.
 -Fourteen Months Earlier-
 “Leave Charlie; you’re good at that.”
 “That’s not fair, Y/N, and you know it!”
 You spun around with pure vitriol radiating from you. “Fair! Do you know what’s not fair? It’s not fair that I’ve been by your side through everything, supporting you and loving you fiercer than a mother lion to her cubs, birthed your son, held you down through everything, the struggle, the good times only to have you do this!”
 “You’re the one who left me, Y/N!”
 He knew he shouldn’t have thrown that at you. He knew it was a bad idea.
 “Let’s be real. You left me long before I left you! Plus, what was there to stay for, a man who turned out to be my biggest mistake?”
  -Present Day-
 With his phone in hand, he pulled up your contact. It was one that he stared at so often—too often, he opened up his messages and did the only thing his head told him to.
 MSG My Wife: It’s insane today would have been our 7th anniversary. Seven years. The day I said those vows to you were the happiest day of my life until the day you told me about CJ. I thought seven would be just the beginning for us. I fully expected seventeen, twenty-seven, thirty-seven, seventy. I probably shouldn’t be sending this, but there was no way I could fight it. God, Y/N, this has always been my favorite day. Now it’s one of the most painful.
 He tossed his phone on the side table and dropped his head back, praying he could forget and move on. It was clear you’d already done it.
 As if that wasn’t enough, to add insult to injury, four days later he was staring down at the date your divorce was finalized. It was irony at its best and a just punishment for him. He’d been suffering the last year, so much, so pain felt like his best friend. He just wallowed in everything he’d lost, wallowed in it with no intention to pull himself out. It was that same pain that had him on this interstate driving out of LA to the place he shouldn’t be going anywhere near.
 When he pulled up inside the yard, he sat in his mustang for much longer than he should have. He looked around at somewhere he was familiar with but only loosely. He looked at the toys scattered on the lawn and smiled before it slipped and was replaced with sorrow. After taking a deep breath, he got out and walked to the door. He hesitated before his knuckles rapped on the door, then he waited.
  ~~~~~~~~~
-Y/N-
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“CJ, please put this hoverboard away before I break my neck!”
 You wiped your hands on the dishtowel as you made your way to the front door. Your son was single-handedly working overtime to break every bone in his body. You’d heard that raising a boy would be difficult, but you were not prepared. He was a handful and a half, especially since he was the carbon copy of his father. Not only did he look just like him down to his blond hair, but he also had the same interests—skating, hoverboarding, biking, and soccer. Those were just the beginning of their similarities. With your head lost in thought, you didn’t see the fist-size fire truck that was lying in wait for you just in front of the door. You hopped and did your best football scrimmage to avoid the tragedy you foresaw.
 “Jesus Christ! Charles Matthew Hunnam, Junior!”
 You could hear the barrage of footsteps as he came running. He knew when you used his entire name; he was in trouble. As sure as the sky was blue, he came bounding around the corner with his blond curls bouncing and honey-chocolate sun kissed complexion on his way to you.
 “I’m sorry, mommy,” he sheepishly breeched as he bent to the floor to gather the death traps he’d left for you.
 “How many times have I told you to pick your toys up when you’re finished?”
 “I’m sorry, I forgot.” He looked so sad now and gave you those blue specked hazel eyes that were such an interesting mix of yours and Charlie’s that you were always a sucker for.
 Groaning, you shook your head affectionally. “Try to remember, honey,” you softly reminded. CJ nodded and threw his arms around your midsection. These were the things that made your day. The doorbell rang then, reminding you someone was there.  “Take them up, please.”
 “Okay, mommy.” You turned from him and continued your walk to the door. When you swung it open, you were shocked half to death to see Charlie standing on the other side.
 “Charlie,” you gasped out. Once CJ heard his name, you heard the clatter of the toys he must have just had heaped in his hands.
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“Daddy!” You heard him running, and in seconds, he bound into Charlie’s waiting arms.
 “Ah! Hey, buddy!” Charlie stood and held onto CJ like he was his most favorite thing in the world; it was the same way CJ held onto him.
 You stood there and watched them half warmed by the sight of father and son and their evident love for each other and half seething that Charlie was there in the first place. He knew better than to show up unannounced. The only way this worked was if you had time to prepare yourself to see him. This was unexpected.
 “I missed you, daddy.”
 “I missed you too, CJ. Gosh, you look like you’re growing like a weed,” Charlie surmised, placing CJ back onto the ground.
 “I am, mommy says I’m half her height.”
 “Oh, is that right? So half her height means you’re still a ways behind me. I guess I better go back to eating my veggies,” Charlie joked. CJ found it funny, even if you didn’t.
 Clearing your throat, you brought the attention of your ex-husband to you. his smile faltered. “What’re you doing here, Charlie?”
 “I uh—I wanted to see CJ.”
 You dropped your head and sighed. This was going to turn into an argument.
 “I wanted to see you too, daddy. Can we do something? Can I show you my new bike? Then can we go down to the lake, and I can show you my new trick?”
 “Hold on there, bud. We gotta ask mommy,” Charlie said on a chuckle.
 “Can we mommy, please, please, please, please!” CJ was pouring on all the emotions and sweetness. You didn’t have the heart to say no.
 “Go ahead, have fun. Please, no broken bones!”
 “Thank you, mommy.” His hug was quick before he was grabbing hold of Charlie’s hand to yank him away. As he did, Charlie looked back to you with a melancholic smile, one you refused to read into.
 When you walked back inside, you were the one to pick up the toys you’d just told your son to pick up. You didn’t mind this time; you needed something to keep yourself busy. Picking up CJ’s toys turned into rearranging some of the things in the living room, and that turned into sweeping, then vacuuming and finally mopping. You could hear the jolly screams and laughs from inside the yard, and though it made you happy to hear how happy CJ was, it also filled you with a hint of sadness, one you’d worked hard to ignore.
 Every so often, you found yourself drifting to the windows to watch on as the two of them played. Every time you looked out, they were doing something different. Once it was tricks on BMX bikes, another time it was weird acrobatics like handstands and flips, and when you looked out once and saw them actually building mud monsters, you nearly lost your shit at how adorable they were together. That was when you stepped up the cleaning and began cleaning the kitchen.
 Once the cleaning was finished, you moved on to starting dinner. An hour passed then two, and you were in the thick of things. You’d only intended on cooking lasagna, but that turned into lasagna with sautéed broccoli, and garlic bread and dessert. It was apparent to you that you were anxiety cooking. Before you finished, though in they bounded downright filthy but over the moon.
 “Mommy, look!” CJ ran to you completely covered in a mixture of dried and wet mud with grass stains. He looked ready to throw his arms around you before you scurried behind the kitchen island.
 “Charles Matthew Hunnam, don’t you dare get me dirty.” His laughter was loud.
 “Fine, but look what we brought you.” He held out a bouquet of handpicked flowers of all varieties. A smile stretched across your face. You knew it was going to happen before it did.
 “You picked me flowers?”
 “Yup, it was daddy’s idea, then we had a competition who could pick the most. I won,” CJ happily boasted. The tears welling in your eyes could not be stopped from spilling.
 “Thank you, CJ, they are gorgeous. I love them almost as much as I love you.” CJ’s smile was just as wide, and your heart melted.
 “If you weren’t as filthy as a lost boy, I would hug you and kiss you, so if you want that hug and kiss, you better get showered.”
 “Okay, mommy.” CJ began to run away but stopped and came back to stand before Charlie. “Are you going to leave now?” His tone was low, and he looked like he was about to cry.
 “Uh—well, I hadn’t planned on staying this long.”
 “No! No, no, stay please, please, please. Mommy said she was going to make lasagna. It’s my favorite,” CJ rattled on.
 “Mine too,” Charlie admitted. You knew it.
 “Mommy, daddy loves your lasagna too; can he stay for dinner with us? Please, please, pleeeeeeease!”
 “CJ, I’m sure that your dad has things he has to do.”
 “No, he doesn’t, I asked outside he said he has nothing to do. Please, mommy, for meeeeee.” His whine was becoming incessant, sighing you accepted defeat.
 “Okay, only because I’d do anything for you.” CJ smiled widely again then hugged Charlie before he ran off, leaving the two of you standing there.
 “Uh—I can take shower duty, or have you transitioned him to alone ones?”
 “He’s all yours.” Charlie nodded and walked up the stairs where CJ just disappeared from.  
 Once alone, you looked at the flowers in your hands and ignored the flutter in your belly and the sight of one of your favorite wildflowers, dab smack in the middle of the bouquet, the one only Charlie knew about —poppies.
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Nearly forty minutes later, dinner was underway, and it felt like old times, the times during your marriage before things went to shit. CJ talked about everything under the sun. He told Charlie all about his soccer schedule and who his friends were in school this month, he even told him all the gossip in his class. It was like he was making up for the last three weeks he hadn’t seen him. That made you sad, but you knew it was just how life was. Charlie was now a full-fledged movie star, and though his star rose years ago, it was still rising. Thanks to his insanely successful show, Sons of Anarchy, his name was a household one, and it came with thousands of thirsty groupies.
 Charlie laughed loudly as he threw his head back, clearly amused by one of CJ’s stories. He truly looked to be enjoying himself to the fullest. You’d long known that CJ was the best thing that had ever happened to Charlie. You’d spent long nights talking about just how much he loved that little boy and everything in you loved to hear him talk about how enamored he was with him. You knew that would never change, no matter what happened between the two of you.
 A little more than halfway through dinner Charlie’s eyes met yours, and it felt like forever ago that you’d looked into them. They looked different, sadder, more detached, and full of something that looked like pain. He looked different to you now than he had months ago. Maybe he was different, you thought.
 “Mommy, can I have dessert?”
 Snapping out of it, you smiled and nodded to your son. “Absolutely, a slice of pineapple upside-down cake coming right up.” You stood and walked into the kitchen to fix three plates of the dessert. When you came back, the two of them were doing thumb wars. Shaking your head, you put the plates down and tried not to think about how much different things could have been.
 The three of you ate your sweet treat and continued to emulate the perfect family. Once dessert was finished, Charlie was the one to initiate doing the dishes something you remembered he promised on your wedding day to do when he loved you the most to show you he cared and appreciated you. There was no way that was the reason now. While he did the dishes with CJ, you busied yourself with finding yet another thing to clean. It was a habit at this point.
 After the tidying was completed, you sat in front of the TV to watch an episode of CJ’s favorite cartoon, The Last Airbender. Through the entire episode, he and Charlie whispered and chatted about the episode then pretended to be from warning nations while they did their bending. It was then you faced how much you missed nights like this. It had been close to two years since the three of you spent time together like this. It was done on purpose. You didn’t think you could handle it. You had no idea how you were now.
 Before you knew it, the time had run away, and it was now almost ten. After telling CJ to get into bed, hit the bottle of your go-to liquor, hoping to find some form of strength to hold you up. Having Charlie there playing doting dad and husband as if he was no longer a part of your life hurt, it hurt a hell of a lot. You still had some animosity about the way things ended.
 When you made it upstairs, Charlie was sitting at the foot of CJ’s bed looking as if he were about to read him his bedtime story. “Oh, it’s cool. You guys go ahead,” you began.
 “Mommy, can you both read to me, like how you used to,” CJ pleaded. That was like a knife to the gut. You’d made CJ your top priority your whole like, and when you and Charlie began to have problems, his happiness was the only thing the two of you agreed on. You didn’t want him to feel as if he were missing anything, but right now, you saw he felt the void.
 “Of course, baby.” Walking around the bed to CJ’s pillow, you settled in your usual place and lifted your bare legs into the bed to cuddle beside your son. CJ dropped his head on your chest, where he knew he could listen to your heart. It was an action he’d always done ever since he was a little boy.
 You kissed the top of his head before you began. “Ready?” CJ nodded. Charlie held out the book to you, but you shook your head. “I’ve got it memorized. You keep it.”
 You took another breath, then began. “A mother bird sat on her egg. The egg jumped. Oh, oh! said the mother bird. “My baby will be here! He will want to eat. I must get something for my baby bird to eat! She said. I will be back! So away, she went.” CJ burrowed deeper into your side, making you smile. When you looked up, Charlie’s eyes were glued on the two of you. Nodding, you signaled for him to take over.
 Charlie cleared his throat and took a breath. “The egg jumped. It jumped and jumped and jumped! Out came the baby bird. Where is my mother, he said? He looked for her. He looked up; he did not see her. He looked down; he did not see her. I will go and look for her. So away, he went.” He read it without looking at the book. He just stared at CJ.
 With your turn, you read the next few pages, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off Charlie. He watched you as you watched him, and it was the most perfect thing. For the next ten or so minutes, you read the book to your son together. When he spoke, he never once looked down at the pages, never once broke the eye contact between you. The only time he glanced from your eyes was to look into his son’s. There were so many instances you had to stifle the flutter of your heart, and countless times, you found yourself looking over his hands and forearms. Even when he caught you, you didn’t seem to care. His voice coupled with how enamored he looked with CJ and vice versa and how rugged he looked, was wreaking havoc on you, especially when you remembered the miscarriage. Once you remembered that, a bitter taste filled your mouth, which brought you back to your reality.
 “All right, prince charming, that’s it,” you gently informed. CJ was still wide awake.
 “Aww. Does that mean you’re leaving now, daddy?” Charlie sighed, and it brought your attention to him. He looked equally as distraught as CJ did. The pit of your stomach knotted. This was never the fun part.
 “I’m afraid so, buddy.”
 “No. Stay, please. I don’t want you to go. I won’t see you for weeks. I miss you. Don’t you miss me? It’s like you don’t like being here with me or with us,” CJ rushed out. You could hear the pain in his voice, and it broke you in two. Looking at Charlie, you could see it was the same for him.
 “Of course, I miss you, buddy. I miss you more than I have the words to say. I always want to be with you, to be here, but you know that’s not our life anymore,” Charlie carefully explained.
 “Baby, it’s all right. Your dad loves you more than anything in this world,” you assured, hoping to smooth things over. It didn’t look like he believed one word you said.
 “Bud, I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise.”
 “I don’t believe you!” With that, the silence in the room was heavy. Charlie looked at his wit’s end with how to console him, and you knew what to do, but you didn’t think you had the strength. You could feel CJ’s tears, and that was the last straw.
 “Look at me, CJ.” Slowly he rose his head to you. you wiped his cheeks and kissed his forehead. “He’ll be here when you wake up.” It was a whisper because that was all you could muster.
 “What?” Charlie’s shock was evident. You looked at him and sighed.
 “You should stay. He needs this—he needs you.”
 Charlie searched your eyes before he spoke again. “Are you sure?”
 No, you weren’t sure. This was probably a bad idea for you, but for CJ, it was the best solution. Nodding your response, you looked back to CJ.
 “He can stay, mommy?” His smile was right back where it should be.
 “He can stay love, but you have to go to sleep.”
 Yayy!” CJ threw his arms around you to show his gratitude and excitement. You kissed him once more then stood.
 “Bed.” CJ kissed your jaw, then dropped back onto his bed and snuggled in his covers.
 “I’m going to stay; it’s been a while since I’ve watched him sleep,” Charlie whispered. Nodding, you walked out the door, leaving it slightly ajar.
 Again, you busied yourself preparing the guestroom, hoping the movement would distract you from not only thinking but worrying about the ramifications of your decision. This would be the first time in almost two years you’d slept under the same roof. Divorced meant over and done with. Of course, divorced with a child didn’t give a shit about over and done. He’d forever be in your life.
 The message you’d received from him a few days ago reminded you of just that. It was the most unexpected thing, the most heartbreaking message you’d gotten from him in a long time. It was so heartbreaking you had to lock yourself in the bathroom with the faucet and shower running to hide the sounds of your bawling from CJ. You ended up hiding in there for close to an hour, and even when you reemerged, you were emotionally unstable for the remainder of the evening. You were so emotionally unstable; there was no way you trusted yourself to respond, so you left it on read. What the fuck were you supposed to say to it anyway?
 After changing the sheets and straightening up a few things, you retreated to your bedroom for some quiet time, quiet time you desperately needed. You didn’t know how to get through the next twenty-four hours. You were struggling. Staring in the mirror, you objectively looked at yourself. You saw the truth, you always had. You just couldn’t afford to let that truth slip to the surface.
 The knock at the door had you leaping to your feet. When you opened it, there was Charlie, and your stomach liked what it saw.
 “Fast asleep?” He nodded and looked down at the floor.
 “I don’t have to stay in the house. I can sleep in my car,” Charlie suggested.
 “I’d do anything for you—for CJ.” The way he said it had your heart racing.
 “It’s fine. I have space. Come on.” You walked out of your bedroom and down the hall leading him to the guestroom you’d just prepped. When he walked into the room, you watched as he looked around.
“I just changed the sheets; they’d been on for weeks. It should be all good.”
 He turned to you, nodding his head. “Thank you, love dove.”
 The name hit you like a mack truck. You audibly “oofed” as you wrapped your arms around your midsection, instantly feeling the effect and the loneliness it brought on. He used to always call you that name, a day would never go by without him whispering it in your ear, against your neck, or your lips. You were brought back to happier times where you’d be locked in your room in bed, just ravaging each other, and he’d whisper it the entire time.
 Charlie must have been going through the same thing you were because he looked regretful before he spoke. “Sorry. Old habits.”
 Again, your stares lingered, and the air in the room was heavy and hot. It was like the last year or so didn’t happen, like he hadn’t broken your heart. He still had an effect.
 “Good night.” It was quickly said, and your exit was just as quick. You spent the next forty or so minutes in the shower. You hoped it would help to calm you down, but it didn't do that, it just gave you more anxiety.
 When you got out, you began to wonder if you’d placed towels in the room. When you saw them in your closet, you realized you’d brought them here mistakenly. Once you wrapped in your robe, you made your way to his room to drop them off. You knocked once, then twice, but neither knocks were answered. Deciding you could chance sneaking in to put the towels down, you opened the door. The sound of the shower running gave you your answer as to why he didn’t answer. Quickly you walked to the bed and put the stack of grey towels on the bed. As you neared it, out came Charlie in all his wet glory. In your shock, the towels fell to the floor and had your eyes snapping shut.
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“Oh, god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I forgot to leave some towels. I knocked; you didn’t answer.”
 The room was silent; he didn’t speak. You wondered what he was doing. Was he trying to cover himself? Using your hands as your eyes, you felt for the towels you’d dropped. In seconds frustration filled you when you couldn’t find them. Opening your eyes for a second, you saw the towels, but when you looked only a centimeter up, there was his junk right in front of you. He hadn’t budged from his spot and hadn’t even made an attempt to cover himself.
 You meant to look away immediately, but that didn’t happen. He was maybe half a foot from you, close enough to touch. Charlie had always been the most attractive man that you’d seen. He’d always done it for you. With you on your knees before him, you realized that hadn’t changed. A son, a miscarriage, a messy ending to your marriage, and a divorce had done nothing to temper how much you always seemed to want him or be attracted to him.
 You were kneeling there in wide-eyed amazement. It had been years since you’d seen him like this. The deterioration of your marriage meant you spent lots of nights lonely and unloved. Before you gave him divorce papers, it had been seven whole months since you’d been intimate. When you added on the four months it took for the divorce to finalize and the year of being a divorcee, you hadn’t gotten laid in over two years. It was shameful because right now you knew why only he had an impact, only he would do.
 “It’s okay,” Charlie whispered. His voice was shaking, and he sounded hopelessly breathless. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before in great detail.”
 Again, you remembered all the things you’d done to him in great detail over the six years of your marriage. Jumping to your feet, you tried your hardest to look away from his inviting appendage. You held out the stack of towels to him with your head turned to the side and waited for him to take them. When his hands grasped the items, they brushed yours and sent thousands of electric sparks through your hand and directly into your heart.
 Your eyes met again, and they lingered on each other. You hoped he couldn’t hear your heart, hoped he couldn’t tell what a fraud you were.
 “I should go,” you whispered.
 “You don’t have to.” His response awoke a need in you that you thought you’d buried. You knew what he was suggesting. Everything in you wanted to take the gentle suggestion and cross the room to him, but then what.
 Groaning, you peeled your eyes from his and turned. “Yes, I have to. Good night Charlie.” Those were the last words before you made your rapid exit.
 The following morning you awoke to the scent of food being prepared. When you looked at the clock, it was almost ten. Usually, you’d be up by eight. You’d slept in. Quickly you brushed your teeth and pulled on a pair of leggings then went downstairs. As you neared the kitchen, you could smell the evidence of what promised to be a delicious breakfast. You turned, and there was Charlie standing over the store in his tank cooking away. Good lord help you he’d buffed up even more, you thought. Times like these you wished things had been different. You missed mornings like this. Charlie looked up and smiled when he saw you. As you approached, his eyes roamed your body before his eyebrows knitted together.
 “What?”
 “Is that my hoodie?” You looked over yourself and realized your error. It was normal for you to sleep in his clothes, but you didn’t realize you still worse it.
 “Nope.” It was a lie but one he couldn’t fully prove.
 Charlie scoffed but didn’t speak again for a long time. You took the opportunity to bring up his impromptu visit.
 “You can’t just show up unannounced Charlie. That is not okay. You can see CJ whenever you want I have never kept the two of you apart but just showing up here—you can’t.”
 Charlie nodded and but kept his eyes down. “I know, I’m sorry. I just—I really missed CJ, and I had to see him, so see you. I couldn’t stay away. I wanted to talk.”
 What the hell were you supposed to say to that, you thought. Sensing your speechlessness, Charlie spoke. “I’m sorry about last night. I was out of line.”
 “Let’s not talk about it, CJ will be down any minute.”
 “I have to talk about it. I’m losing my mind. I’ve been losing it for the last near two years, and—I’m struggling,” Charlie admitted. His candor shook you. Half of you wanted to know more, but the other half was too scared.
 “Charlie, it’s fine. Let’s move on.”
 “I can’t. I can’t be like you. You have everything so put together. You’ve pieced this life together without me, and I can’t seem to piece any life together without you—without CJ.”
 It was then CJ came running down. It should have been sooner because you were absolutely ruined now.  You and Charlie stared at each other. He was daring you to speak, to acknowledge what he’d just dropped on you.
 “Daddy!” CJ jumped onto Charlie bringing his attention to your son. You took the reprieve to dip into the half bath to pull yourself together.
 You tried to wrap your head around what he’s said, tried to make sense of it. After five minutes, you still couldn’t come to terms with it, so you did the next best thing, pushed it aside. When you walked back out, CJ was sitting at the dining table, as was Charlie.
 “Ready to eat, mommy?”
 “Absolutely.” You sat at the table and dove into the food, all the while avoiding Charlie’s eyes. Through breakfast, he and CJ talked and joked with each other. It was a welcomed chatter because it took the attention off you.
 Once breakfast was finished, you cleaned the dishes while CJ got himself dressed for a playdate he’d been looking forward to the whole week. Now that Charlie was there, he refused to go. It wasn’t until Charlie promised he’d still be there when he got back did CJ agree. When the two of them came down, CJ was dressed and ready just in time for him to be picked up. You thanked Claudia for setting it up the playdate and waved goodbye to CJ from the front door.
 When you turned around, Charlie was leaning on the steps watching. You hesitated closing the door to enclose yourself in a confined space that had plenty of surfaces for him to bend you over. When you did, you quickly walked back to the kitchen.
 “We have to talk, Y/N.”
 “No, we don’t. There is nothing to talk about.”
 “Bullshit. After yesterday, last night, even in the kitchen this morning. We have plenty to talk about,” Charlie responded, following you through the house.
 “Charlie, don’t.”
 “I have to. Are you happy? Like really happy? It’s been a year. Are you happy? Is this what you wanted? Did you want our son feeling like a consolation in our relationship?”
 “Are you happy? You’ve gotten what you wanted.”
 “Me?! Y/N, you gave me divorce papers. You left our house and never came back,” Charlie shouted through clenched jaws.
 “Oh right, I’m the big bad wolf. You know how to fight for a role, but you have no clue how to fight for your marriage, your son. Classic.” You slammed the kitchen fridge unsure why you’d opened it in the first place.
 “Don’t pull that. I fought, I came to you over and over, begging you not to do it, pleading with you. You refused to listen.”
 “What did you come to me for Charlie? What the hell did you prove to me? What did you show me? What was I going back for? The same bullshit? The same treatment?! In all the times you came begging and pleading, you never once showed me how things would change. You just didn’t want a divorce under your belt. You didn’t want the press to get wind of it.”
 “That’s bullshit! I wanted my wife; I wanted my son! You didn’t want me. When did you stop loving me, Y/N?”
 You looked at him incredulously. He had to be fucking kidding, you thought. Your anger was rising by leaps and bounds, and you knew the next words out your mouth were going to be venom. “Is the weight of it all too heavy now, Charlie? A year later, a year after you switched up and changed? A year after you showed me time and time and again what was important, who was important. You showed me I didn’t mean shit; CJ didn’t mean shit. I was not going to stay and turn into those Hollywood couples who hated each other and only remained for the spotlight. No!”
 “You gave up on me,” Charlie whispered.
 “Fuck you! You gave up. You gave up on me and us long before I left you those divorce papers. You did.” You walked away because you could feel your tears spilling over, but you turned around back to him, tired of hiding the fallout of his actions. “You know what makes all of this so much worse? My friends told me this would happen. They told me before we got married, told me to slow down, be careful with you, and I defended you. I defended you till kingdom come. Look where we are, Charlie! Living in a perfect lie!”
 “I don’t want to live this lie. I miss you, Y/N. I miss CJ. I miss our life; I miss our family. I’m miserable,” Charlie dropped.
 His tears ran down his cheeks, and you flared your nose. This was always your weakness. Charlie had always been in touch with his emotions, but his emotions had to be overwhelming for him to cry.
 “Good. You sowed this Charlie. You brought all of this on. My baby--,” you began, but the pain was too much. Charlie sobbed and dropped his head back.
 “I’m sorry,” he said as he approached you. You steadily backed away from him, not wanting him to touch you.
 “Y/N,” Charlie began as you shook your head.
 “No. I’m not doing this with you. I refuse.”
 Charlie quickly caught you before you turned and kept you facing him. “You can’t run from this Y/N. Face it with me, please.”
 You kept a straight face, refusing to cry any more. You refused to allow him any closer than he already was. You wouldn’t survive it this time. Charlie grunted out in frustration when he realized you were hell-bent on keeping him at bay.
 “Y/N!”
 “What do you want from me, Charlie?” You shot death rays right at him.
 “I want you to say anything! Scream! Yell at me! Just something to show you fucking care.”
 “Why should I care? Why the hell should I give one flying fuck?”
 “Because I’m still in love with you!”
 The words felt like a slap in the face. You’d imagined how they’d sound coming from him during the whole divorce process, during the whole year after the divorce. You were convinced he didn’t love you anymore for him to have treated you the way he did, for him to have done what he did in Cannes. The stress of it brought on your miscarriage.
 Though you’d wanted to hear them, you hadn’t prepared to hear them.
 “I love you. God, I can't keep pretending like I'm okay with any of this. I can’t pretend that it doesn’t kill me to be away from you, to be away from CJ. I can’t act like I’m thriving or happy. I’m not. I’m miserable. I wish I could press rewind and go back and better, do better. I wish I knew better then, as I know now. I fucked up, and I regret it more than I’ve ever regretted anything in my life. If I had been a better man, none of this would have happened. If I’d only been the man you deserved our baby—our princess would be here right now. I will have to live with that for the rest of my life, the pain that I caused your miscarriage, the pain that I broke our vows, that I broke your heart, I broke us.”
 Charlie dropped his forehead to your collar, and his tears dropped across your chest. They felt like acid peeling away every barrier you’d built between him and your heart. He was saying everything you want him to, everything. He wasn’t holding anything back. They were words you’d desperately wanted to hear.
 “I’m sorry, love dove. I never wanted to give up on you--on us. I loved you so much. You were my world until CJ. Then you became my universe. I lost myself. I lost sight of you and me. I lost sight of the man I was and wanted to be. For that, I will always be sorry. Losing you and CJ, it broke me. I stand here a broken man. I had to find me again. It’s been hard, but the root of me is you and my son. My family. You have always been what mattered, and I regret I ever lost that, that I ever made you feel like you weren’t my everything.”
 One lone tear rolled down your cheek, and that was just the beginning. When Charlie swiped it away with the pad of his thumb, the flood gates opened. You bawled uncontrollably, all your emotions finally catching up to you. Charlie wept with you, and that was how the two of you stayed for countless minutes.
 When you opened your eyes and realized how close he was, you sniffled. Slowly the two of you inched to one another. Before your lips touched, both of you hesitated. “Fall back in love with me, love dove.” He whispered.
 He really thought you’d ever fallen out of love with him. “You’re an idiot if you think I’ve ever fallen out of love with you.” The hope you saw in Charlie’s eyes set your belly fluttering. It was overwhelming. Charlie claimed your lips in a soft but passionate kiss that took your breath away. It was so intense you felt as if you’d been possessed by sheer desire. The kiss began timid and soft, but in seconds, it had turned into a lustful and sensual soul transference. Charlie’s hands gripped your hips and pulled you flush against him before he lifted you in his arms.
 Wrapping your legs around him, you kissed him back with as much heat as you kissed you. Soon the two of you were walking through the house blindly looking for anywhere. Charlie plopped you onto something, and the backs of your knees said it was the kitchen island. Quickly both of you stripped each other. He pulled off his hoodie from your body as you peel his shirt off. Charlie cupped your breasts when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra then dipped his mouth to your mounds. Instantly you moaned and hugged his head to your flesh.
 Charlie nipped and hypnotizingly sucked your skin, bringing you more and more ecstasy. It had been so long since you’d felt like this; you didn’t want to think about anything else but the sensations. Charlie pushed you back onto the island and brought his lips down your stomach to your hip. Once there, he pulled off your leggings in one fluid motion. His beard tickled your skin and had you wriggling underneath him. Charlie’s groan was loud when he realized you wore nothing under those leggings.
 In seconds he’d draped your legs over his shoulder and reclaimed claimed ownership of the most intimate part of you. He moaned as he lapped at your wetness and teased and pleased your body. You bucked your hips against his lips, feeling your orgasm barrel toward you. Everything in you said it was going to be a catastrophic one. You panted and gasped his name as your body wildly thrashed, unable to control it any longer.
 “Aah, yes, right there. Yes, Charlie, yes, yes!”
 Your scream was loud, and the tightness of your legs around his head was enough to suffocate. Charlie didn’t panic. Instead, he lifted your lower half into the air and continued his feast, not caring if you were overstimulated or not. Your screech echoed off the walls of the kitchen, and you tried to pry him away from your sex. He refused to budge even when you’d unwrapped your legs the best you could. Yet another orgasm ripped through you, sending a gush of moisture all over his mouth and beard. Charlie groaned, gripped your breasts, and squeezed hard enough for you to know just how tightly wound he was.
 When he pried your legs from around him, you felt the renewed fire and quickly slid off the island to drop before him. You hurriedly stripped him eager to have him. Once he was free, his heavy cock bobbed in front of you. Wasting no more time, you slid him into your mouth, ignoring your gag and took every inch he was blessed with. Charlie shouted and hugged your head to his cock, keeping him lodged tightly in your throat. Sensing the low levels of your air supply, he pulled back enough to give you a brief reprieve. It was all you needed and more than you wanted.
 Slamming him back into your mouth, you lodged him in your throat again, all the while moaning enthusiastically. Charlie’s hands never left your head just as his mouth never closed. Moan after moan fell from him as you sucked and slurped his length. In no time at all, Charlie was thrusting into your mouth hell-bent on finding his long-overdue release. Just as you were finding a groove, Charlie pulled from your mouth with a loud “pop” before he pulled you up and pushed you onto the island.
 With you bent over the island and your ass poked out for him, Charlie rubbed his cock across your soaking folds sending shivers through you. He bent to your ear and kissed you.
 “I love you, only you. Endlessly for eternity.” It was the same thing he’d said the night of your wedding before he joined you for the first time as husband and wife. When you peeped behind you and locked eyes with him, you knew the two of you had an understanding. Charlie kissed your back then snapped his hips forward, harshly, and completely filling you to the hilt. You shouted and gripped the island. Your knees bucked from the sheer pleasure of just this. When you clenched around him, Charlie, have you just what you wanted—a rough tryst.
 Every slam into your core had you clenching around him. Each thrust was more bruising than the last, and each one brought tears to your eyes. They weren’t hurt tears; they were a mixture of relief and complete joy. You shouted his name over and over, not caring how needy or desperate you sounded. You could feel how on edge he was; his body shook every time he filled you, and every time you said his name, he shouted yours.
 When Charlie began jackhammering into you clearly lost in his pleasure, you left planet Earth. Only he could have you like this. Only he could fuck you into outer space. You knew he was close, and the second he whimpered behind you, you pressed back into him, throwing your ass back onto him. Charlie sucked in a breath, and his whimpers intensified. The slap to your ass was the last thing you needed to be pushed over the edge, an edge you dragged him over. Charlie grunted and groaned as he filled you with every ounce of his love.
 It took several long moments for the two of you to come down from your sultry sex bubble. After having you across the island, you rode him until his toes curled, and he saw stars on the kitchen floor leaned against the same island. By the time you’d both stopped, hours had passed. Neither of you were fully satiated. As Charlie hugged you to him still buried deep within you, he tipped your chin so you were looming at him.
 “Marry me again.” Shocked, you searched his face for his meaning.
 “You’re not serious.”
 “I am. Will you be my wife again?” the gleam of silver caught your eye, and you looked down to see him wearing your engagement and wedding ring on a chain around his neck. Your world shattered. He’d worn them this entire time. Locking eyes with him again, you knew he could tell you realized what he was wearing.
 “All this time?” Charlie held up his hand to show you the silver wedding band he still wore.
 “I promised forever; I wasn’t done with it.” Your tears fell, and so many emotions filled you; you had no idea which one to go with.
 “I have to do whatever it takes to stop my heart from being broken, Charlie,” you whispered.
 “I’ll never break your heart again. I know how it ends. I know what it means. I can’t risk my life without you or CJ anymore. I can’t.” His tears welled, and you believed him.
 “Surrender to me, love dove. Surrender to me as I can only surrender to you.” His voice was pleading with you. Closing your eyes, you listened to your soul, the place where no fear lived. When you looked at him, you trailed your thumb across his bottom lip.
 “Give them back.” Charlie looked confused for a few seconds before he got it. Quickly he yanked the chain from around his neck and slid the rings off to hover them over your finger before he locked eyes with you.
 “Never again will we be here. Never again will I lose us,” Charlie forcefully vowed.
 “Never again will I walk away,” you responded. He looked overwhelmingly emotional then, but you could see him holding as much of it back as possible. When he slid the rings onto your finger, both of you sighed as if you both felt instant relief.
 You knew this was a new beginning for the two of you but also for CJ. You knew that neither of you would ever again make the same mistakes.
 “I surrender,” you both whispered together.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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tmabigbang · 4 years
Text
Masterpost of TMA Big Bang 2020 Fics
To prevent clogging up anyone’s dash, we have put all of these fics under a read more since there are 28 wonderful fics created for this bang, which makes for a bit of a long post! Below the cut are links and summaries to all the fics created for this bang! 
In addition to this post, you can also check out our fic page (which you can find here)! The fic page includes links to all the fics, art, and the team members that helped create them! You can also use some basic filters for rating and oneshot/multichapter to find fics.
Thank you again to all our participants, and we will see you next year!
Your Job’s A Joke (You’re Broke) by @bisexualoftheblade and @desert-lily
Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27590578
Summary: Working at the Magnus Institute was stressful by default. With monsters, mayhem, and potential primordial entities, it has very little expectations for being a comfortable job. However, everyone is allowed to have a little fun sometimes - even an archivist, their assistants, and their really creepy boss. Fueled by spite and a rampant lack of heterosexuality, they all try to balance their work life with a bit of fun and a healthy dose of bullying twelve-times divorced Elias Bouchard.
I Know The End by @williammatagot
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27947966
Summary: Except, for all that beautiful poetry, Eliot was wrong, because the world doesn’t end with a bang, sure, but it doesn’t end with a whimper, either. It ends with the distant-yet-deafening voice of the man Martin loves shouting through a ragged, wild throat--I open the door. (The world ends, Jon shatters, and Martin tries to fix it. The house tries, too, in its own way.)
From the Depth of the Spiral by @trickstergod14
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27842941
Summary: Michael had no idea what was going on. He suddenly woke up in the tunnels under the Magnus Institute with no memories of the past seven years after that fateful trip to Sannikov Land. Watch as he slowly spirals into madness, regaining his memories while strengthening his bond with the Distortion along the way. Can he hide all this from the other Archival Assistants? What will happen when Jon wakes up from his coma? And what does the newly crowned Distortion Avatar, Helen, have to do with all this?
Every Word I Say is Kindling (But The Smoke Clears When You’re Around) by @ohnoimdeathing
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27956897
Summary: The unknowing left Jon stirring in the nightmares of others, watching their torment and suffering and making everything worse. He wanted to wake up, to go back to Martin, Tim, Basira, even Daisy. But he didn’t know how to. Until a voice told him to choose Though, to be honest, he doesn’t remember actually making the choice to stay a monster and live rather than be human and die. The only injury the doctors will talk about is his missing eyes, and why are all the doctors Scottish? At least Martin is here.
Spinning ‘Round (like two sides of a coin) by @awayofunderstandingit
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27835756
Summary: Time is a construct. What we know as past, present, and future all exist at the same time, ad infinitum. • Guided not by time but a spoken word poem, follow along the lives of two intertwined souls, Timothy Stoker and Sasha James. The story of their friendship from the time they meet, through growing apart, to when they fall back together, and through their time working at the Magnus Institute. Witness slices of their lives—not memories, memories would suggest the past—as they exist, ad infinitum, even at The End.
retrouvailles by @jet-siquliak
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27818092
Summary: The Magnus Institute burns. The archivist, for all intents and purposes, burned with it. In a dingy hospital room lies what remains - Jonathan sims. weak, powerless, and insignificant. On Jon’s last day in the hospital, Martin awakes from a coma, unscathed. Melanie King kicks the dirt that once housed the institute. Tim stoker wakes up in the middle of nowhere. Elias Bouchard is dead. No one knows where to go from there. Or: the destruction of one home and the making of another.
Still, I’ll Always Keep the Memory by @revolutionnaire-e
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27932125
Summary: [MARTIN turns, stepping out of the shadows towards him. It is blood, not tears. His left eye is not his own. His eyes never shone that blinding green, never shone with such malice or self-satisfied pride.] MARTIN BLACKWOOD Pleasure to see you again, Archivist.
Making Home by @cuddlytogas
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27664805
Summary: After the events in the Panopticon, Jon and Martin rush to leave London. But making their home in an idyllic safe house isn't that easy: between the layer of dust, and Forsaken still clinging to Martin's heels, it could be some time before they reach an understanding.
called your name ‘til the fever broke by @corpsesoldier
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27845161
Summary: Basira made a promise to her partner. At the end of the world, a monster comes and demands she keep it.
assorted family photos by @lesbianbirds
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27903979
Summary: When setting off on a research trip, it is advised that you prepare yourself for certain oddities that may greet you. or; key moments in a world where the entities are weaker and everyone got a bit more therapy
Timothy Stoker’s Guide to Dating by @pezilla
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27841267
Summary: Timothy Stoker has a lot of advice when it comes to matters of the heart, online agony aunt, gossip monger and general love guru. He has a list and he sticks to it. Or he did. That was before he took a job at the Magnus Institute and before he met three of the most fascinating and frustrating people to ever come into his life. Rule #7 under no circumstances fall for a co-worker. Yeah, that rule was starting to become a problem.
Running the Institute by @drowsy-salamander
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27878306
Summary: Caroline Ferguson, the entirety of the Magnus Institute's legal department, is furiously ignoring any weirdness that could be going on in her workplace, from the tech issues to the vanishing colleagues to the everything about Artefact Storage, Caroline will turn a very deliberate blind eye. They're are not her problem. Now if only those murders could also stop.
kindred spirits (not so scarce as I used to think) by @pollylittlehigher-littlelower
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27914821
Summary: An Anne of Green Gables inspired AU, set in modern day England. Jon and Georgie are childhood best friends, but the two stop talking after a falling out. Even doing their best to avoid each other, Georgie struggles to escape him, even while dealing with her own mental health issues and a blossoming romance with her housemate, Melanie. Is Jon truly the kindred spirit she once considered him? Or will the two eventually part ways for good?
Friends of Empty Graves by @artswaps
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27974807
Summary: After the coffin, she cuts her hair. Who is Alice Tonner? People are searching for her in the space she left behind, in the person she was. Daisy looks elsewhere, and tries not to choke.
just let the feeling grow by @ajkal2
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27838447
Summary: Jon is a musician. He plays songs for a living. Except love songs. He doesn't do love songs, and he makes this quite clear with anyone interested in working with him. Except his manager has booked him for a wedding. Without asking. With days before the festivities start, Jon needs help. Desperately. He won't get it from his hosts, the Lukas family. He certainly won't get it from his manager. However, there's a certain amateur poet on the Lukas' staff who has a talent for making love sound genuine.
World Cold and Hard, Moth Boy Warm and Soft by @lcjenkinswriting
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27827491
Summary: Jon, a young moth fairy, leaves the nest in search of a place that feels like home
tapes winding forward by @ghostbustermelanieking
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27858721
Summary: Martin ignores him, stops him mid-sentence to say, "Jon, what have you heard about time travel?" --- Martin and Jon wake up two years in the future. It goes about as well as can be expected.
MAG 26.5: Beach Episode by @ebenrosetaylor
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27882746
Summary: Sasha is aware of the rising tensions in the archives after Martin was stalked by Prentiss and after she had her own encounter with Michael. In an attempt to boost morale and bring them closer together, Tim suggests that they all visit the beach to unwind and get their minds off of all things paranormal. Sasha takes it upon herself to make sure that everyone has fun and relaxes, but she forgets to give herself that luxury.
Rewrite The Rulebook by @radiosandrecordings
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27823774
Summary: "Panic! Bloody panic! I've been out since I was fifteen and never once actually brought someone home. I think I just wanted to seem like I had my life together, y’know? Mainly I just... I think I just wanted someone to be there with me, so I wasn't just alone with her the entire time. A bit of comfort.” There was pause as Martin let out a dramatic sigh, seemingly relieved to ramble out his thoughts. "... I could go with you. If you want."
A Test In Patience by @talking4the1
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27917749
Summary: Elias is going about his day as the new head of the Magnus Institute in 1995. Some spreadsheets to do, meetings to attend mundane and supernatural. Nothing seems out of place until The Eye calls him to Bournemouth.
Of Mothers and Memory by @loverdontleave
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27856585
Summary:  There is a story to be told, of two people, a mother and a son. Of their history together, and the sacrifices they made for each other. Perhaps they loved each other once, but that thread of connection has weakened on one end, fraying away. And it is so, so cold.
Would That I Were Golden Dust by @that-one-girl-behind-you
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27734197
Summary: The world is a lot more dangerous with your soul walking by your side, and Entities aren’t shy about feeding on golden Dust.
Till Death, Parted by @bigowlenergy
Ao3 Link:https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27749680
Summary: Jon gets caught after ripping out Gerry’s page by Trevor & Julia, and through a comedy of errors ends up engaged as an excuse. Somehow, Jon gets out alive, Gerry is freed, and they have the two hunters accompanying them as bodyguards - and as best man and best woman - without a fight. Living alone in Gerry’s London safe house afterwards will be totally fine. Jon is fine. He knows what coping is and everything! Totally fine.
The Spoken Word by @drumkonwords
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802708/chapters/68066326
Summary: Jon wants. Their pinky twitches — stretching and curling to the tune of something musical. The song of wanting, with its motifs of long, low notes. Starting quiet and mumbling up into Jon’s chest until the strings of their heart vibrate like the strings of a double bass and all they can do is wonder who’s tune they’re matching. But they know.
First Aid by @platypik
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27948284
Summary: Jon is certain Martin has been acting strangely all morning. When Martin offhandedly mentions he took a bad tumble off the tube to work, Jon suddenly Knows that the fall had given Martin a nasty fracture. Despite his desperate pleading, Martin stubbornly refuses to let Jon drive him to the hospital. In fact, it seems he would much rather take care of it himself than have Jon worry and fuss over him. Jon would disagree.
Burning Bright, In the Forests of the Night by @triffidsandcuckoos
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27915400
Summary: The safehouse bursts into flames at their backs. You can choose to change the path. Just be ready for what else you might change.
i’ve been static for too long by @furryjefferson
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27887878
Summary: Jonathan Sims ends up with a stranger’s phone on the way home from work. All signs point to the Magnus Institute, and all roads lead to its mysterious archivist: Martin Blackwood.
through the clouds like a moonbeam by @digital-waterfall 
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27877402
Summary: After passing through the Vast’s domain, Jon is left with an unexpected surprise-- a pair of wings. Unsurprisingly, Martin finds them beautiful. Also unsurprisingly, Jon does not.
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