#GIVE ME FACE FACE FACE FACE YA YOUR FACE CARD NEVER DECLINES MY GOD

[piwonies]

P1H_members: 10 10 10 across the board

#GIVE ME FACE FACE FACE FACE YA YOUR FACE CARD NEVER DECLINES MY GOD #< continuing the lyrics #and he has point by putting the caption as this #bc he KNOWS.... good for him #keeho #p1harmony #updates: twitter

[after-witch]

Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Title: Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Synopsis: You’ve broken up with Ransom Drysdale, and you mean it this time. But the freedom that comes with the breakup leads to a series of unexpected coincidences that leave you wondering: was it worth the price?

Word Count: 8955

notes: yandere, mentions of physical abuse, financial abuse, comfort sweaters

Nothing lasts forever. Not even relationships--and certainly not love. What might start off as an intense, passionate relationship can (and did, in your case) eventually fizzle; things that you were willing to overlook when you were absolutely besotted would wear down with time, and eventually they became too much to ignore.

That’s what you tell yourself, what you remind yourself, in the moment after you tell him:

“It’s over, Ransom. We’re done. I’m leaving.”

It couldn’t last forever. Not with his inability to stay sober, not with his tendency to cheat on you with meaningless flings that somehow hurt more than any steamy single-minded affair. Not with his flare-ups of controlling tendencies that left you in tears on the bathroom floor as he asked you to please stop dressing like a slut in front of his family, is that too hard to ask?

You’d asked him to change. He swore he would; he never did. You forgave him, more than once, more times than you could count. But enough was enough. Maybe he thought you were too weak to leave him, especially three years into your relationship, when your lives were becoming so integrated, pushing you towards a potential permanent future. It was a future that left you feeling numb and anxious. Stuck in a marriage with someone who wanted to stay with you but treated you horribly, all the same. And that wasn’t even getting into the family dynamics that left your head spinning.

He stares at you now, and his mouth opens just a little bit in what you know is going to be a barrage of questions, insults, maybe even threats spurred on by your words. But instead he closes his mouth and shakes his head, letting out a soft, bitter chuckle.

“Well, damn. This sucks.” You can see the indent of his tongue in his cheek before he clicks and shrugs. “Guess that’s it then. Need help packing your shit or what?”

His response is so blasé that you’re genuinely shocked and, you must admit, a little hurt. He didn’t even ask for a second chance or beg you to stay or argue with you about your terrible timing because our-vacation-to-Hawaii-is-coming-up. So it’s your turn to look surprised, and you shake your head.

“No, I… already took care of it. It’s at a storage locker.” You didn’t have family left, and your close friends had pulled away from you one by one once you stayed with Ransom time and time again--so you’d had to pay movers to help you pack and transport everything to storage over the weekend, while Ransom was away and you were free to make a clean breakup.

He nods, sticks his hand inside his jacket pockets. He’s looking around the room, avoiding direct eye contact in a clear show of his discomfort. It’s weird seeing Ransom like this--the normally self-assured, cocky Ransom, looking for any excuse not to look at you.

“So… see ya around?” His tone is sincere, if still confused. The idea of you leaving must have really never crossed his mind. The look on his face when he finally faces you again appears genuinely puzzled.

He sticks out his hand and it feels almost comical for things to end this way, particularly considering the nights you’d spent imagining some big blow up, some big fight with Ransom screaming and you firing off the many reasons why it had to end no matter what he said.

But it didn’t go the way you expected at all. It was calm. Easy. A clean break-up.

So you shake his hand and grab your purse and the small roller-suitcase and give a half-hearted wave as you walk out the door; the taxi you’d hired to pick you up is waiting, car running, meter going. You would be staying at a hotel for two weeks, which would hopefully be enough time to find a semi-decent apartment; your credit score had improved so much since Ransom added you to his cards, to a shared checking account, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to get approved.

A new life, one where you could focus on yourself for once, was just around the corner.

**

"I'm sorry, miss, but it's definitely not the reader. The card is declined."

You've had this nightmare before. No, you've lived this nightmare before--years ago when your credit was shit and you ran up your cards and had to face the music in a publicly humiliating display with the longest checkout line you'd ever seen behind you. Only that was years ago, in a little grocery store, and since getting together with Ransom you never had to worry about problems like this. You never had to worry about the shame of not having enough, not being enough.

But this? This was happening now. In an upscale hotel. With your nice purse (a Christmas present) and designer clothes (casual, comfortable) and your cheeks flushed undeniably warm.

The hotel clerk has a tight, sympathetic smile on her face. A coworker who walks behind her glances at you, judging, and you just know he's going to head into some break room and tell everyone but yet another piece of discarded army candy with a declined credit card. You wish you'd kept your sunglasses on.

"Did it, um, say why? I don't--" you plaster a smile on your face, hating the way this all feels familiar, like a part of your past coming back to haunt you. "I don't understand, the card is good."

The clerk's smile flickers, just a bit.

"It says there's a fraud alert on this card. Perhaps you'd better call the company. Or would you like me to call them?"

Fucking. Ransom.

"Oh, oh no, don’t worry about it. I’ll call them myself. I'm so sorry about this." You turn away from the clerk as quickly as possible and step away from the counter, away from the person waiting behind you who will surely have no trouble with their card, away from the clerks giving you a passive side-eye. You lean against a cool cement pillar in the lobby and you know what you have to do.

You have to call Ransom.

You haven't deleted his number yet--you'd planned on calling him today or tomorrow to figure out how to split up your shared finances--so it's easy enough to find the number. It's not so easy to tap his contact, but you have to, so you force yourself to do it and stare at his photo as the call rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello?” Your breath catches but in an instant, when the message continues, you feel stupid. It’s his voicemail. Fuck.

You text him, instead. Emergency. Call right away. And of course: He leaves you on read. Fuck.

You call him again. And again. He picks up on the sixth call, but your heart is racing too hard and sweat is beading down your forehead and it takes you a moment to confirm that the "Hello?" wasn't part of the voicemail message this time. Fuck.

"Um. Hey," you say, keeping your voice as un-royally-pissed-off as possible, because if he did put in a fraud alert then you don't want to risk any additional asshole moves. "So there's something wrong with the card? The one that ends in 8921? The hotel said there was a fraud alert and--"

"Did you really think I'm going to keep paying for your shit if we're over?"

His voice is quick, biting--exactly what you'd expected from him earlier. Somehow it stings even harsher over the phone, where you feel more helpless, unable to avoid his words.

"I thought..." you wet your lips, trying to maintain your cool. "Look, my name is on them, so I thought send you my part of the payments until I can get cards in my own name."

He chuckles, low and short. "Yeah? What, you want to create a payment schedule or something?"

You fight back the annoyance in your tone. You hate having to be the bigger person, but your finances--your life--is on the line. "Yeah, actually, that'd be perfect. It wouldn't be for long. You know I'll pay them on time, I'm not looking to screw you over."

"You're going too pay me on time? For all the stuff you've bought, the stuff I’ve bought for you, this hotel room and god knows what else? How are you going to afford all that?"

He knows you recently earned a promotion at your work. He knows this, because you were so excited about it, and his half-assed congratulations over lukewarm leftovers left you feeling bitter and sad and useless. So you can't help it when bitterness seeps into your voice with your answer. "You know I just got a promotion."

"Did you?" It's said in such a casual tone that it gives you pause, but a moment later he simply hangs up on you.

Fucking. Ransom.

You shove your phone back into your purse, and the clerks at the counter are staring at you. Sweat has trickled down your back and your shirt sticks to your skin ever-so-slightly as you pull away from the pillar and approach the counter, awkward smile and cheeks hot.

"There is an issue with the card, they're working on it, so I’ll just call for a new reservation when it's fixed. I'm so sorry for the mix up!" Your voice is so peppy and high-pitched and fake and you feel like you’re back at your old job, feet aching with falling apart shoes, forced to deal with people returning old toasters laden with crumbs, calming they’d “just bought it the day before and it didn’t work.”

"Of course," the clerk says, and you know this is hotel clerk code for "You're a shitty liar."

You roll your suitcase out of the lobby with tears in your eyes and you shove your sunglasses on as soon as you've cleared the building. You feel exhausted, drained--so you use what little energy you have left to start googling for cheap motels.

**

The room smells musty. You pin the plastic sheet you’d snagged at a dollar store over the comforter and pray it will be enough to protect you from whatever is on the likely unwashed fabric. The TV is broken, there’s no WIFi, and there’s a few suspicious stains on the floor that make you wonder if this hotel has ever been featured in a porno, true crime show, or both.

But it’s all you could afford with the cash in your wallet. You only had enough cash on hand for 2 nights at a ragtag hotel that offers nightly and hourly rates. You didn’t dare use your debit card or any credit cards with Ransom’s name or information on them.

You just need some sleep. A good night’s sleep to feel renewed and ready to tackle retaking your life, bit by bit. In the morning, you need to go to the bank and withdraw your money from the joint bank account. Then you can reopen an account in your name, get a new debit card, and apply for a few credit cards afterwards.

Sure, it would have been nicer to do this without Ransom being an asshole. But deep down, you suspected he wouldn’t let you have a clean, lets-still-be-friends type of break. Not after all the times he’d pressured you into staying, manipulating you with words and gifts and promises, promises. Promises that were worth shit. 

The sheet crinkles underneath you as you scroll through your messages. You’d texted a few formerly close friends about the breakup earlier, hoping that they’d maybe want to reconnect. So far, you’d been left on read, blocked, and received only one response: “New number, who is this?”

So much for that. Not that you can blame them. There are only so many times they can rush over for a late night intervention in which you tell them every horrible thing Ransom does (he’s controlling, he doesn’t want me to meet with friends without permission, he tells me what I can and can’t wear, he cheats, he lies, he pushed me--)--before they get tired of you returning to him, again and again and again.

The only one who’d been texting you recently--okay, for the past year--had been Ransom. Mostly dick pics. And demands for you to send him something back, which you always did after a while, because you didn’t want to deal annoyed texts or voice messages accusing you of clearly cheating on him or hating him because why else wouldn’t you be willing to send him so much as a sexy selfie to your boyfriend? 

But in between those, there were conversations. Sometimes sweet ones, sometimes thoughtful ones that always made you remember why you fell hard for him in the first place. Late night conversations from when he was off on trips. You try not to wonder if he was fucking someone on each of these trips, if while you were sending him a late night ramble about a TV show and he was humoring you with jokes and quips, he was actually snuggled up with someone else. Laying in bed, naked, laughing at your dumb ass waiting at home.

The not-so-sweet conversations were ones that you had screenshotted and sent to your friends more than once, before they pulled themselves away. Texts asking where you were. Asking who you ate lunch with, and whether or not you were fucking them. Asking why your new office was connected to a certain co-worker’s, and how many blowjobs you had to give to get said new office because you didn’t tell him about the new office until after you were moved in, so you were clearly hiding him. Asking you to send him outfit pics so he could approve them or make you change if they were too slutty or not slutty enough or if you were only clearly wearing that halter dress to try to get with the bartender.

Yet your mind had always returned to the nice Ransom, the Ransom who made you laugh and squeezed you hard when had a shitty day of work and let you bury your face in his sweater as you snuggled on the couch. Maybe that’s why it took so long to leave.  You were waiting for him to stop being Ransom and start being the fantasy of Ransom you’d conjured in your head.

Your eyes feel heavy so you plug in your phone, turn the sound off, and lay down on the uncomfortable plastic sheet that crinkled over the pillows. It feels strange to lay on a lumpy mattress covered in plastic, after years of custom-made beds and memory foam pillows and all the other luxuries that Ransom was able to provide.

You try not to think about it too much. While you won’t exactly be indulging in all the luxuries you had with Ransom, but your job pays you well, and you won’t ever have to go back to living hand-to-mouth like you did before. You won’t have to worry about late bills and debt collectors and landlords who come late at night and demand inspections while you’re in your pajamas.

You have work in the morning. You have to get to the bank in the morning. Your thoughts are still buzzing with anxiety as you fall into an uneasy slumber.

**

“I’m sorry, but the account has been closed.”

You feel years of customer service training cracking underneath your skin. You can’t freak out. If you freak out, they won’t feel inclined to go the extra mile. You know this, from firsthand experience.

So you take a shaky breath. “Um, this just--it isn’t possible. It’s a joint account. I’m on the account. There was money in there, you can check--”

“I’m sorry, but the funds were transferred and account has been closed by the other account holder. There’s nothing I can do. I suggest contacting the other party in the account.”

You swallow and nod and walk away, this time having been smart enough to keep your sunglasses on to hide your humiliated expression. Why didn’t you insist on having your own account? Ransom said it was better to keep it joint, so you could just buy stuff whenever you wanted. You’d agreed because it was so generous, something you’d never thought possible at the time, when you were used to having to pay overdraft fees and cringing whenever you checked your balance.

Your fingers tremble as you bring up his contact on your phone. You tap. No answer.

You don’t have time to call him two, three, ten times--you have to get to work. So you steady your nerves. You breathe in, you breathe out. You get in your car and plug your phone in and decide to contact your lawyer. Fuck--your lawyer was Ransom's lawyer. But the anxiety eases when you remember that you’d paid him a retainer fee months ago, and Ransom couldn’t do anything about that. You could at least get a basic consult out of the retainer.

The call ringing sounds muffled through your car’s speaker but it isn’t long before someone answers, and you’re transferred to the lawyer Ransom insisted you have--gotta have a lawyer when you have money, babe--and that you hadn’t spoken to in ages.

“Hi,” you say, voice artificially bright, “this is--”

You don’t get a chance to finish.

“I know who this is.” The lawyer sounds tired, and his tone is curt and clipped. “I’m sorry. I’m no longer able to provide you with any legal counsel.”

You almost miss a red light and regret calling the office while you were driving.

“Is this about the debit card? Because I paid the retainer months ago--”

“The retainer has been refunded into the connected checking account.”

Your voice looses its artificial cheeriness and you stumble over your words in frustration. “That’s--it’s--it was a joint account, which is why I called, Ransom drained it and took everything. Isn’t there something we can do, because that was my money too and--”

“I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel.”

You want to cry. You hate crying, as an adult. It makes you feel weak. Especially on the phone.

“I don’t understand. Why was the retainer refunded? Did--did someone call you?”

He clears his throat into the phone. “I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel. Goodbye.”

He hangs up. Your hands shake.

You pull into the parking lot of your work and park the car and as soon as you do, you hunch yourself over the steering wheel and simply shake in frustration.

You have no bank account. Ransom drained it. You have no credit cards. Ransom blocked them. You couldn’t even talk to a lawyer, because--shock--Ransom made sure you couldn’t. Everything was in Ransom’s name. He insisted on adding you to his accounts, closing out your own paltry ones; insisted that he pay off your credit card debt, and making you close those, too, instead adding you to his cards. It was all to help you out, he said, at the time.

Wasn’t it? He was shockingly not judgmental about the state of your finances, and while you’d put up some protest, you didn’t exactly argue with him when he suggested wiping your debts clean and getting your credit back up. And considering that he wasn’t immune to needing a bail-out now and then (late night calls to his grandfather, snarky comments at his parent’s dinner table, come to mind) maybe he could sympathize with being in over your head. Even if your issues were rooted in poverty and shitty jobs and his were rooted in a total lack of financial discipline and, as you’d later found out, a drug addiction.

Still. He helped you before. He would help you now, once he realized how serious it was. For now he was just--reacting like an asshole, acting childish and ridiculous. He was an asshole. You know this. You’ve known this. You need to call him and meet with him and make him realize how ridiculous he’s being, and he’ll sigh and snark but he’ll agree to stop acting like such an ass.

But first you have to work. Life goes on. Even without Ransom--even with Ransom, screwing you over out of pettiness.

The air conditioning in the lobby is on blast, and the familiar smell of clean furniture and floor cleaner from the late-night cleaning crew is surprisingly comforting. Here, you can forget about Ransom--forget about the cards and the lawyer and the fact that your life has been upended in mere hours. If only until your lunch break, at least.

Anthony is working the front desk and you give him a a soft, if strained smile. There’s something in the smile that he gives you in return that reminds you of the hotel clerk. Sympathetic and judgmental.

Ah. You probably look like--well, less than your best, you realize. You did pack some toiletries in your suitcase but the water in the motel had streaks of brown and you didn’t shower, opting instead to rinse your face with what was left of a water bottle you’d bought earlier and layering on more deodorant to make up for the lack of a proper scrub. You probably looked a bit tired, haggard, not unlike some of the employees who got stuck with big clients the night before their paperwork was due.

Still. Nothing that freshening up in your private bathroom--thank god for the new office--can’t help. So you hit the button on the elevator and take deep breaths as you ride up, intent on working as productively as possible. The doors open and you navigate the familiar maze of open-plan desks for the lower-tier workers, desks surrounded by half-walls that always kept you staring straight ahead, lest you accidentally glance over and see a co-worker picking their nose.

Yet as you weave in-and-out of the familiar rows, heading towards the back of the room where the real offices, the ones with full walls and doors and privacy glass lay, you can’t help but feel that something is… off. 

No one calls out to greet you, though that can be easily attributed to the jealousy over your promotion. You’d been working there for far less than most of the lower level workers--Ransom got you the job, with his connections and a hefty revision of your resume and, you assume, some personal phone calls--and you’d already been promoted to senior management. That wasn’t technically Ransom’s work, though. That was all your own effort, your own blood, sweat, tears and intense devotion to each project that came your way. Sure, the connections he helped you make, the dinner parties, all that helped--but if it weren’t for your skills, the connections wouldn’t have made a difference. Right? 

Still, whatever bitterness existed in the people hunch in open-air cubicles, the receptionists always greeted you. But today they caught your eye then awkwardly glanced down, or pretended to be looking for something in their drawers. It was odd. Did you look that bad? That out of sorts?

You shake off the heavy feeling in your stomach and for once, you shut the door to your office instead of keeping it open for passers-by or people needing approval for this-and-that. It feels good to lean against the solid wood door and take a breath, a deep one, invigorating and calming.

A quick trip to the bathroom has you staring at yourself from all angles. You don’t look that bad, you reason. Just tired. But who wouldn’t be, sleeping on a plastic sheet in the shittiest motel in the area? You take a quick sniff under your arms but even that reveals nothing much but a faint hint of sweat and powdery deodorant.

There’s a firm knock at your office door and you glance at the mirror for a final once over before opening it up. It’s your boss. Did you have a meeting? You try to do a mental scan of something you’ve missed, but nothing comes to mind.

“Hi,” you say, wavering with uncertainty at the threshold. Should you invite him in? “What can I do for you? We didn’t have a meeting, did we?” You let yourself chuckle, dry and quick. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit scattered this morning.”

Your boss doesn’t return your chuckle, which immediately raises the hairs on the back of your neck. Something was wrong. Shit--you were working on a major project for a seriously important client. The type of client that could genuinely make or break a company, if you got on their bad side. You press your lips together and make a silent vow to keep it serious.

“I’d like to keep this conversation private.” His tone is low and serious and you invite him in without a second thought, shutting the thick door behind you, trying to ignore the way everyone was shooting glances as it closed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your thoughts race--no wonder everyone was giving you the stink eye. Something was wrong with the client, and you were the one making primary contact with them.

Your boss takes a seat on the leather sofa pushed up against the wall and you immediately set yourself down behind your desk.

He sighs. Short. Frustrated. Annoyed.

“We have to let you go.”

The words don’t register.

“Go where?”

It’s only after you say it that you realize what he said, what it meant, and you feel like a colossal moron in every respect.

“It’s not working out,” he continues, staring at your desk and not at your face. “Since you’ve only been in this position for a month, you don’t quality for senior severance. The best we can do is to pay you what you’ve earned this week.”

Your mouth is so dry that you don’t know if you can talk. Your hand fumbles on your desk for a water bottle you’d left overnight, and that’s when you see it--the photo frame. You keep a photo of yourself and Ransom, cuddled together for a selfie, on your desk. The photo was lying on your desk, frameless, ripped in half--leaving only your vacantly smiling face staring up at you.

Ransom was here.

“Did he put you up to this?” You whisper. “Did Ransom tell you to fire me?”

You know he won’t answer. But you stare at him so fervently that he can’t help but look up at you, and you see it all in his eyes, in the subtle, embarrassed expression of his face.

You can imagine Ransom strolling in--maybe he called first--and settling in for a private audience with your boss in his office. He’d probably pull the chair up to the desk and put his feet on it, just to be an ass. Then he’d bring up… you. And why you had to be let go. Did he give a reason, did he tell your boss why a respected employee who he once secured a position for, who shot up the ranks through intense effort and work, needed to be fired? Did he even need to give a reason?

“This is absolute bullshit,” you say, finally, voice dry and hoarse and bitter. You want to say you’ll be contacting a lawyer. That this won’t stand. But you know--and he knows--that there’s nothing you can do.

Your boss stands, slow, and sighs again. “I’m sorry it had to end this way. Pack up your things as quickly as possible.”

He leaves, and you keep your eyes trained on the ripped photograph to avoid seeing the expressions of the people in the doorway before your boss mercifully shuts the door.

It takes all of your effort not to cry.

You don’t have much effort left.

**

Your things consisted of a handful of personal items, little touches you’d brought in to make your office feel more like “you.” A nice picture print. A pastel afghan to drape over the couch. A stapler with a floral design. You have the strong urge to dump them in a trash can, but that’s quickly quelled by the realization that you can’t afford to buy new things, or any things, at this point.

You don’t care if wearing your sunglasses as you power walk to the elevators makes you look stupid. You know someone, somewhere in this office is filming you and probably captioning it with something stupid to post to their Reels or TikTok, and it just makes you leave faster. A few people murmur comments your way, sympathetic in tone, but you’re not really listening. None of their platitudes matter, because Ransom was here, in your workplace, in your office, and he stole the thing you were most proud of from under your feet.

To his credit, when you reach the bottom floor, Anthony practically fumbles out from behind his desk and holds the door open for you. He mouths a “Sorry” and he probably is, but he’s probably used to dealing with rich assholes like Ransom who get what they want, when they want it; even when what they want is to fire a good employee on demand for very personal reasons.

The sun is beating down hard, even for the morning, and the stress of your situation makes you blast the air conditioning as soon as you get in the car. God, the car--how are you going to afford the payments? You wish you could call your mom. You wish your friends--are they even your friends, anymore?--would call you back.

You grab your phone from your purse and stare at the black screen. Maybe you should call the friend who didn’t block you. She would answer, if you called, because she knew you didn’t make calls unless it was serious. She might not rush to your side, but maybe she can offer you a place to stay, a couch, some advice. A kind word would do, right now, with how much anxiety and frustration has been packed into the last 12 hours.

But when you unlock your screen, your gut sinks. Five missed calls. From the storage company. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You tap their number and bring the phone to your ear and pretend that your hands aren’t shaking.

The man who answers is the same one you talked to on the phone before, when setting up your move. “Hello, Move’nSecure Storage Company. This is Steve speaking. How many I help you?”

“Hi Steve!” You hate how chipper you sound. “I actually just got a few missed calls from you guys, I’m sorry, I was in the office and--”

“Oh.” His voice is surprisingly flat, suddenly flat, losing its customer service inflection in an instant before picking it back up. “Yes. We’ve been trying to reach you. For confirmation, the storage locker your purchased is A443, correct?”

You fumble in your purse for the receipt and confirm the little numbers printed neatly on the paper. “Yes, A443. Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” You’re grateful that you didn’t have much for breakfast because you know it would be clawing its way back up at this point. “The card you gave us for the storage fee was declined.”

The debit card. You’d paid in cash for the move, and paid for 1 month of storage with the card. The card that was now useless, connected to an empty and closed bank account.

“Is there another card you can give us?”

“No, but...” You say, because no, there is not. There is not a card. There is not a job. There is nothing. “But if you could just hold my stuff, I’ll be there in less than a hour to get it.”

“We don’t hold items,” Steve tells you, a rehearsed banality to his tone. “Your items are currently outside the unit.”

You instinctively want to yell at Steve but, fuck fuck fuck, you’ve been there, behind the counter, dealing with people who couldn’t pay for shit and then had the nerve to get upset with you. “All of it?” You ask, your voice cracking slightly.

“Yes.”

You hang up, and toss your phone onto the passenger seat. The quicker you get there, the less chance that something will get broken or stolen or who knows what else.

The trip to the storage unit seems to take forever, and when you arrive you don’t even take a second to lock your car doors. Instead you sprint inside, startling Steve--looking at his phone, then at you, then at the sign plastered up on the wall leading to the storage locker floors. He points. Row A, separated into 100s, 200s, 300s, and--your number--400s.

You don’t remember if you say ‘thank you,’ because you’re speed-walking down the hallway and following the signs and it isn’t long before you see it: a storage locker with tons of stuff piled up, dumped, outside the now-empty unit where it was supposed to be safe and sound. Waiting for you to get an apartment and pick it back up and rearrange it into your new life, your new “you.”

The problem is immediate: You can’t fit all this in your car. You don’t know anyone who could take the stuff for you. You mind reels for options and the only thing you can come up with is ferrying your belongings to and from the hotel. You can pay for a few more days once you cash your partial paycheck. After that… you don’t know.

Pawn your things? Yeah. That might work. You can get enough cash by pawning most of your stuff, the good stuff. Enough money to get you into a shitty apartment with leaks and a bad landlord. Then you can a job that barely pays rent and you’ll be right back where you started, before you met Ransom. Before you thought leaking ceilings and $20 paychecks after taxes were a thing of the past.

You ignore the humiliation that makes your stomach curl as you take your things out to the car, handful by handful. Steve doesn’t bother holding the door open for you. You mention that you’re going to be back on your way out, and he offers a non-committal hum.

At least when you get to the hotel, the owner sees you fumbling with boxes and offers to help you out. It takes less time with two hands to get everything in the room, and once it’s locked up you head back out to the storage units.

You keep your sunglasses on for the second trip into the storage unit, even though you don’t know Steve or care what he thinks. He doesn’t look up when you walk in and it’s just as well, since you’re only heading back to the A-400s and don’t need his non-existent help.

But the sight that greets you when you round the corner to your unpaid-for storage locker makes your blood run cold.

Your stuff is gone. All of it.

You rush back to the desk, where Steve does look up, startled by your urgency.

“My stuff,” you spit out, “My stuff is gone! Someone took it!”

Steve shrugs. “Sorry.” He points to a sign behind him: “We are not responsible for the loss of items inside or outside storage lockers.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” You can’t the anger in your voice this time. “You just watched someone walk off with my stuff and didn’t say anything?”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “If it was that important, you shouldn’t have left it here. Or you should have given us another card.”

You feel like throwing your hands up but you just clench your fist and storm out the door, huffing as you reach your car. The anger melts into the sense of loss, the realization that you only have a few meager items that you’d managed to collect; you picked the lightest stuff, first. And in retrospect it was things that didn’t matter much at all. Clothes. Hair supplies. Makeup. You should have grabbed the box with your USB sticks, your memory cards, your photo albums; your personal mementos and sentimental shit. Instead you grabbed the box with your shampoo.

At least the clothes might get something in a pawnshop. The makeup, too, on Facebook or Depop or Instagram. But it wouldn’t be enough to put you up in an apartment. You’ll have to live in your car. Until they repossess it for lack of payment.

You don’t have your bank account, your credit cards, your job, a place to stay, or your personal possessions. And soon, you won’t have your car.

You have no friends. No boyfriend. No family.

All you have $20 left in your wallet and well, fuck it. You grab some McDonalds on the way home because, fuck it, and eat all the fries before you make it to the motel. The thought of eating in your dirty room makes your stomach turn and you decide to eat everything else you bought, the burger and the shake and the chicken nuggets too, tossing the wrappers on the floor. It feels like deja vu--getting cheap fast food to make you feel full, tossing trash on the floor of the passenger seat, all bringing back the way you used to when you’d grab something from the dollar menu on your way to work at the call center.

You almost wish you could stay at this hotel, brown water and all. The owner is decently nice. He smiles at you when you enter and doesn’t bring up that you didn’t come back with more boxes, like you said you would.  

You’re surprised at how grateful you feel for the dingy hotel room now that you won’t be able to stay here more than another day. Now that the alternative is sleeping in your car, then sleeping on the street, if you were lucky.

Your phone feels heavy when you set it on the table and stare at the home screen. Another photo of you and Ransom stares back up at you. You haven’t had time to change it up yet. He’s grinning. You’re smiling. It’s a good photo. You try to place it in your memory, try to remember what beach that was, but your trips blur together and you can’t.

Should you call him? If it was just the cards, just him being petty over credit and finances, it was one thing. You could try to placate him with returning gifts, just asking him to give you what you put in from your own paychecks. But making you lose your job? It was too far, too fucking far. And there was no going back from that. Fuck, someone was probably moving into your office as you sat in this dimly lit room mourning the loss of your entire life.

For a brief, very fleeting moment, you consider calling Harlan. You weren’t exceptionally close, but he seemed to like you well enough. He’d even asked you once, puling you aside at a tension-filled family party, if Ransom treated you right, told you to tell him if he ever got to be too much. Harlan felt like Ransom’s keeper--in more ways than one. You could never tell Harlan about the shouts or the occasional bruises from when Ransom really, really lost his temper--it’s not like you could prove them, anyway, as Ransom made sure to keep you away from his family when he lost control like that. No need for excuses about running into doors when he made sure you looked your best at family functions.

But the thought of breaking the uneasy stasis that Ransom had with the most significant member of his family made you want to vomit. There would be no coming back from that, and you knew better than to cross any line involving the great Harlan Thrombey.

You could call your friend--ex-friend? The one who didn’t block you or forget your number. You should. No, you will. Because what else do you have to lose.

But before you can bring up her number, you get a text--Ransom. It’s a photo and your curiosity gets the better of you as you click the notification.

“What the fuck?”

He’s sent you a photo of his car, trunk open. It’s filled with boxes, odds-and-ends. It’s filled with your stuff.

You text him: What??

He texts back: Hey. I’m in front of the hotel. Come out? Bring your suitcase. :P

It’s your stuff. It’s his car. He’s here. All reason is thrown aside as you grab your suitcase and purse and rush down the hallway, ignoring the owner’s confused response from behind his desk as you push open the front doors and look around the parking lot.

His car is parked to the side, not in front of the hotel’s glass double doors. He’s standing outside his car, leaning against it. He takes off his sunglasses and tucks them in his pocket when he sees you approaching, face confused and fuming all at once.

“What the fuck, Ransom, what the fuck is your problem--”

“Hey, hey,” he says, hands up in defense, “You’re not even going to thank me for picking up your stuff?”

You feel suddenly, impossibly rooted to the spot.

“What do you--what? You took my stuff?”

He shrugs. “C’mon, did you really think I’d just leave your stuff in some shitty storage unit? Someone would’ve taken it if I didn’t get there first.”

You swallow. “Why?” You ask, because Ransom never does anything for no reason. Or so you’ve learned.

His expression loses a bit of its cocky casualness. He tilts his head a bit, looking at you as if you’ve asked a particularly offensive question.

“Why do you think?”

To lord it over you? To make you think your stuff was gone and make you worried, sick, crazy?

“I don’t know,” is what you settle for in the end. “I really, really don’t. You--” You lick your lips, and try to calm down, calm the pitter-patter of your heart, and think before you speak. “You’ve done some pretty messed up stuff today. My job?” The last question comes out soft and pained, and you know your eyes are starting to tear up.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and placating and it makes your stomach flip as he approaches you, standing there on the sidewalk with your purse and suitcase. “Hey, c’mon. Don’t cry on me.”

You know this Ransom. The Ransom that holds you and pets your hair and offers to get Thai food delivered even though he doesn’t like it just to make you happy.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and you jerk it away. “Don’t.” That Ransom is a fantasy. Or an incomplete version, the version that pretends he doesn’t lie and cheat and hurt you in more ways than one. “Don’t you fucking dare, especially not after what you pulled today. My job? My job, Ransom? You’re a--a fucking asshole.”

He puts his hands up again, defensive, and takes a step back. But he doesn’t return to his car, and stays just a few steps in front of you.

“Look. Call me an asshole. Sure, fine, I can admit that. But do you know what else I am?”

He waits a beat, waits for you to look at him, before he continues. “I’m a realist. I like facts. And the fact is? You aren’t much without me. No job, no credit cards, no bank account. Without me, you’re just some broke chick scrambling to get an apartment in the shittiest part of town, working a dead-end job that don’t pay shit. With me though…. “

He leaves the words unfinished, but you know what he means. Flashes of your life, cocktails and smart business outfits and dinners at restaurants you didn’t even dream about attending before you met him. Phone calls with shakers in the industry and social media requests from people you’d never dream you’d meet. Connections that meant something, a career path, dinner parties with people who could offer tangible benefits to your career and your life.

It wasn’t that he spoiled you. He wasn’t a sugar daddy. You weren’t getting gifts for blowjobs. It was that his presence in your life boosted you, socially, financially, mentally, physically, in every which way possible.

His presence got you a job that you loved, which meant you weren’t burnt out when you came home, which meant that you had the time and energy to spend hours catching up on books or redecorating the house or watching movies. Good money meant you could order in whenever you felt like it, meant you didn’t have to worry if you burned dinner because you could just buy new steaks or order-in or go out, last minute, and still get a great table. It meant you had all the clothes you wanted, stylish and personally tailored; it meant you had easy access to a gym and exercise equipment and an indoor pool to keep you healthy. It meant you had a life that provided comfort in every way possible.

Being with Ransom Drysdale was like… like a little shot of privilege directly into your arm.

Privilege that he took away just as easily as he gave it. Just as easily as you took it. Just as easily as you took it and eagerly ignored the dark side underneath. Or maybe you didn’t ignore it. Maybe you liked it, maybe it reminded you of who you were underneath the designer clothes and expensive dinners.

Maybe you wanted to fix him, like he fixed you? He wasn’t totally bad, after all, he did make sure no one took your belongings. Maybe it was your presence that gave him the idea for that touch of sympathy, maybe with Ransom change was slow and muddled, not picture-perfect sweeping changes like the kind in movies.

“So?” Ransom’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Are you going to come home or,” he waves his hands around dismissively, at the hotel, at you.

You feel very, very less-than right now. You look awful, your hair mussy and your makeup mostly melted off with sweat and sun. You probably smell more than you normally do, thanks to the lack of a shower. Your muscles, sore from the motel bed, ache for the large spa bathtub that Ransom had installed in the master bathroom just for you, stocked with bubbles and salts and overpriced bath bombs that were $10 a pop.

But your muscles had hurt before, when he pushed you against the dresser.

You have nothing, and no one. Except Ransom. Ransom who didn’t judge you when you instinctively saved plastic bottles and boxes, but merely nudged you towards recycling and took you out to splurge on a reusable water bottle and proper storage containers the next day. Ransom who asked you what sort of job you wanted, really wanted, and made it happen for you. Ransom who shrugged and wiped away your credit card debt without making you feel like shit.

Ransom who didn’t let you leave the house if your wrists were sporting fingerprint shaped bruises. Ransom who argued with you about talking to men, even men at work. Ransom who held you tight at night and said he never wanted to let you go, and wouldn’t you just make a fine-ass addition his crazy family. Ransom who took care of you, now that you had no one else.

“What do you want me to do?” The words feel slow, sluggish. Like they wanted to stick to the roof of your mouth and it took everything in you to get them out.

His voice turns low and serious as he stares at you with an characteristic expression. “Well, the first thing is to get down on your knees…”

You feel your eyes practically bugging out.

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

He laughs. He always did have a nice laugh.

“I’m just messing with you, Jesus. Take a chi-I-il pill. Just grab your purse and come sit your sweet ass in the front seat. Let’s go get some burgers, I’m starving.”

Your legs feel like jelly when you take that first step, and the sound of your roller suitcase as you pull it along seems louder than ever. Ransom pops the truck and you just manage to fit it inside with the handle closed, jamming it in between some boxes at an odd angle. The handle of the passenger side is familiar, warm from the sun.

You open the door and practically shove yourself into the seat, closing the door as fast as possible. You can’t do more than glance at him as humiliation and anxiety and just the smallest bit of relief washes over you. It’s been less than 24 hours since you broke up, and here you are--again.

He’s staring at you quietly, his expression difficult to place. He looks relieved. He looks annoyed. He looks like he wants to kiss you. He looks like he wants to slap you. Maybe he wants to do it all at once and can’t decide which to pick.

Instead, he puts his hand on your thigh. Gives it a squeeze. Hard, bordering on painful.  He’s staring straight ahead, at the worn-out sign on the hotel’s front door, one hand gripping the flesh of your thigh. He looks good in profile. “Don’t ever try to pull something like that again. I mean it. I really mean it.”

You turn, glance out the window, familiar tears at the edge of your eyes.

“I won’t,” you whisper, dreaming of the tub and bubbles and how good a warm soak will feel on your back, on your thighs, on your soul.

“Good girl,” he says, patting your thigh firmly. He plucks his sunglasses out of pocket and puts them on in a smooth motion. The car starts smoothly, its fine-tuned and expensive engine a familiar sound, and your hands feel robotic as you pull the seatbelt over your chest and click it tight.

“Let’s get dinner and get home. You have some unpacking to do.”

#ransom drysdale x reader #yandere ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #knives out #yandere x reader #afterwitch writes

[katsukisbayy]

The Wrong One (Eijirou Kirishima x Female Reader)

Hi all! This is my contribution to the BNHArem servers villain/hero swap! Special thanks to @unbreakablekiribaku for listening to me vent about this piece!

This is the masterlist for the collab! Go check out everone else’s work!

Warnings: slight cussing, reader is pregnant, Kirishima slits someone’s throat

No beta read cause this was due Saturday and I literally just finished it so if there’s typos, my bad.

Word Count; 3,620

“Ms. Y/N, you’re pregnant.”

Ever since those words were spoken to you in front of your boyfriend, one of the most notorious underground villains since UA collapsed, you were constantly followed. Whether it was by your boyfriend Eijirou, his best friends Bakugou and Kaminari, or one of the underlings who followed those three around you were never alone. Except for this particular moment when a massive job had been thrown their way. 

“We’ll be gone for less than a day Y/N, don’t leave the house. Don’t answer the door, don’t answer the phone for anyone other than me, Kaminari or Bakugou. Only those who need to know know that we’re leaving to do this job. Do not, for the love of god, do anything that could hurt you or our daughter okay?” Eijiro sighed, pulling you into a hug and resting his head atop yours. 

“Ei, I know the drill. Whether you like it or not, I know how to take care of myself. I’ve been with you three long enough to know how to kill someone if I need to. We will be fine.” You told him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He held you a moment longer before removing his arms from around you, kissing you softly, and walking out the door. He called out “Love you!” as the door swung shut. You glanced around your apartment, debating on cleaning the damn near spotless living room before deciding to watch a movie instead. You put on your favorite, grabbed a blanket, and laid down on the couch. Mind wandering to what the boys were doing, you barely paid attention to the movie before sleep found you not even twenty minutes later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eijirou Kirishima was 6’2 on a bad day, 280 pounds of pure muscle and extremely lethal to everyone but you and his two best friends. He and Bakugou tried their hardest to keep you out of that part of their lives, especially now with you pregnant, but you’d caught glimpses into just how lethal the three of them were. You’d seen Kirishima nearly behead a man using his quirk, and Bakugou AP shot a person’s head off. Kaminari had electrocuted someone to the point where it smelled like seared flesh for three days afterwards, maybe longer. Not many people, villain or hero, wanted to mess with your three boys. But some people are just stupid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A loud noise from right outside the apartment door jolted you out of your sleep. Pulling your phone off the coffee table, you checked the time. 6:35pm. There was no way the boys were back yet, and you knew that anyone else would’ve called before coming over. This was bad. Quickly, you shoved your phone into your sweatpants and ran to your bedroom. As soon as your foot crossed the threshold, the front door slammed open.

“What the fuck Tsukasa? Did you need to kick the door in?” A man’s voice yelled out.

“Did you want to get into the apartment or not?” another voice, Tsukasa you assumed, responded.

“We could’ve used a credit card to get in. That normally works for me and DOESN’T ALERT THE WHOLE DAMN NEIGHBORHOOD!” You heard rustling and assumed that the men had made it into the apartment. Making your way to the closet which had a hidden door in case something like this happened, you slid the fake panel out of the way and shimmied inside before sliding it back like nothing had happened. 

Your phone was still tucked into the pocket of your pants. You knew you had to call Eijirou, or at least Kaminari because if Eijirou didn’t answer that meant Bakugou wouldn’t either. Sliding it out and unlocking it was as far as you got before you heard the men come into the bedroom. Your breath caught in your throat and you hesitated, debating on not moving or breathing until they left the bedroom and you could call someone to help you. As you move to put your phone back into your pocket, your ringtone alerting the men to your presence. 

“Shit shit shit shit shit.” You mumble under your breath, quickly moving to decline the incoming call. Kirishima’s name popped up on your phone screen, more than likely wanting to let you know that they were on their way home and to check on you and your daughter. You declined the call and shoved your phone into your pocket before crouching into a corner as far away from the panel as possible. 

“Find where they are now.” Tsukasa said calmly. The door to the closet slammed open and clothes were shoved around as they tried to find you. You hoped that they wouldn’t notice the false panel in the back of the closet. Those hopes were dashed as you felt a hand clamp onto your ankle and drag you out. Your hands scrambled around for the bat hidden in your closet and finally closed on its handle. Taking a deep breath, you swung the bat as hard as you could against your captor. The sound of metal hitting could be heard and you hoped you’d swung hard enough to do some damage. 

Pain radiated through your cheek and it took a few moments to realize you had been slapped.

“Stupid bitch. You thought you could hide didn’t ya?” A tall, dark haired man chuckled.

“Easy for you to say Kizuki, you did not get hit with a bat.” The other man was stocky and tall, with long dark brown hair glared at you. 

“What do you think Tsukasa, should we kill her or keep her?” One of the men, Kizuki, asked his partner.

“She may be useful. And if not, we can dispose of her later.” Tsukasa responded.

You reached for the bat again, hoping to strike them when they were distracted, but it was taken from your hands just as fast as you had reached for it. 

“No, no. You’re not pulling that again. Go to sleep, little bitch. You’re in for a rude awakening when you wake.” 

The last thing you saw was a fist flying towards your face before the world turned black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kirishima tried your number for the fifth time since leaving the job.You hardly ever declined his calls after jobs, wanting to make sure the three of them were fine and wanting to know the exact moment they would be home so you could have the first aid kits out and ready. If you ever did decline, you would always shoot him a text letting him know why. That didn’t happen this time, and he had a bad feeling settling into his stomach. He clicked away from the phone app, clicking Find My Friends instead. Thankfulness settled over him that he had talked you into downloading it shortly into your relationship so he could make sure nothing happened to you while you were out or for instances like this. 

“Shit.” He muttered, noticing that your phone didn’t pop up onto the screen, just a Last known location popping up. 

“Guys we might have a problem.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pain was the first thing you felt before slowly cracking your eyes open. Well, eye. Your right one was swollen shut. You tried to rub your face and noticed that your hands were tied behind your back and to a chair. Surveying where you were the best you could with one eye, you noticed you were in a bare room with nothing in it except a light, a table with an ashtray, and another chair across from where you were sitting. Your head was throbbing.

“Well, well. Look who’s awake.” Kizuki stated as he walked into the room and sat across from you. A cigarette hung from his lips, ashes falling onto the floor. 

“Why am I here? Why didn’t you just kill me when you saw someone was home?” You glared at the man, subtly eyeing him up and down. He was tall, not as stocky as your boyfriend, and you’d yet to see him use his quirk. Eijirou will still take him down in about two seconds. He was in for a rude awakening when Kirishima arrived. It was basically a death sentence for anyone who messed with you before, but now that you were pregnant with his child he was extremely overprotective.

“Why else would I keep a beautiful woman alive? There’s too many men around here. None of us can unwind after a long day and we needed someone to take care of us sweet cheeks. That’s where you come in. Now, you can either agree and this can be the start of a wonderful partnership, or you can fight back and I can give you some scars on that pretty little body.” He chuckles, standing from his chair before caressing the side of your face.

A slow smile spread across your features. 

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” You asked sweetly.

“Why would I? You’re nobody important in the hero world that I know of, and someone living where you do had to know something like this could happen. You don’t exactly live in the best area.” He smirked at you.

“Did you ever think there was a reason why someone like me was living there? Like maybe I had connections to villains and not heroes?” You saw his face go white for a split second before he regained his composure. He removed his hand from your face and slid it into his pocket.

“Why would I care if you had ties to the villains? Besides, you couldn’t have been that important to them if they left you there all by yourself.” 

“Have you ever heard of Red Riot? Maybe Dynamight or Chargebolt?” You noticed the minute the dots connected in his head. 

“No, there’s no fucking way. I would know if any of them had a bitch.” Kizuki sputtered.

“Yeah, no you wouldn’t. Riot’s really good at keeping me hidden from the world. Especially when he has Dynamight and Chargebolt helping to keep me hidden.” You chuckled seeing the color drain from his face. He knows they’re in trouble now. Hopefully Tsukasa is here too so Eijirou can kill them both and we can move without anyone knowing about me and the baby.

Kizuki opened his mouth to say something before shutting it tightly and walking out of the room. You sighed, collapsing in on yourself slightly. Exhaustion settled over you like a heavy blanket. Eijirou where are you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days had passed and you were still tied to the same chair. The only times you were allowed to be untied was when you had to use the bathroom. Kizuki or Tsukasa fed you, and as far as you could tell they were the only two in this area with you. You were unsure if it was a house, apartment, or just some random building that they were using as a base for the time being. Kizuki had alerted Tsukasa that you were “property of Red Riot” as he had worded it, and neither one of them spoke to you unless it was absolutely necessary. You were going crazy.

“Can’t you guys just let me go? I won’t tell Riot that I know who kidnapped me. I’ll tell him that I never saw anyone, my head was constantly covered. You can let me go in some alleyway and I’ll find my way home.” You plead for what felt like the thousandth time.

Tsukasa let out a low grunt and shook his head. Knowing that was all you’d get from him, you turned your attention to the TV they had brought in for you while they tried to figure out where to go from there.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before. 

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

It was safe to say that Eijirou knew you were gone, and you knew that he would tear down every building in the city until he knew that you were safe in his arms. The crime toll had risen drastically in the last few days and you could tell what of the damage shown was Eijirou, Bakugou and Kaminari. The buildings and areas destroyed by the three of them were always left collapsed and on fire, with the power grid having been overloaded right before the attacks. Eijirou was looking for his girls and it was only a matter of time before he got to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ten days after your abduction Kizuki ran into the room looking terrified. 

“I passed someone on the street saying that Red Riot was in the area. We have to lea-” A loud explosion cut him off and threw him against the wall. Small slices of pain spread across your body as debris hit you. Smoke filled the room, blocking your vision and making you cough. Groaning filled the small space as Kizuki tried to move. A blonde headed figure flew across the room and picked him up by the throat.

“You think it was smart to take one of the most feared villains girl? Do you have a death wish stupid fuck?” Bakugou’s voice growled out. Relief flooded your senses. Eijirou had finally found you, now he just had to get to you.

“I-I-I didn’t know! We had just picked an apartment to ransack and she happened to be there! I didn’t know she was Riot’s girl, please don’t kill me!” Kizuki had tears streaming down his face as Bakugou pressed into his throat tighter.

“Where. The fuck. Is she?” A more familiar voice called out. The calmness in his voice was terrifying. You had never heard him talk like that, and it both turned you on and terrified you. 

“Ei! I’m right here.” You called out, trying once again to break the rope holding your hands behind your back. You felt wind fill the room, clearing the smoke in a split second. Rage overtook Kirishima’s face as he took in your disheveled state. Your black eye, though fading, was still prominent on your face. Bruises and dried blood were covering your wrists from trying to break your restraints, and you looked almost emaciated from ten days with little food. You noticed his pupils dilate slightly before he rushed to your side. He quickly cut the ropes from your wrist with his quirk, careful to not cut you while doing so.

“It’s okay baby. I’m here now okay? I’m gonna get you out of here and we’re gonna go home I promise. I just have to take care of a few things first. Can you go through the hole Bakugou made and go out there with Kami?” Kirishima asked. He slowly rubbed his thumbs over your wrists and you relaxed, leaning your body weight against him. Ten days being tied to a chair and only being allowed to walk to the bathroom had taken its toll on you. Your legs were weak and Kirishima had to wrap his arm around your waist to help you up.

“Ei, I don’t think I can walk out there to him. Can’t you carry me?” You whined in his ear.

“No baby I can’t carry you. I have to find the other fucking idiot who decided it would be smart to kidnap my girls. I’ll yell for Kami to come grab you okay? And do not move from his side. I’ll be out as soon as I get done with these idiots.” Kirishima kissed your forehead and you wrapped your arms tightly around him.

“I don’t wanna leave you baby. Can’t I just stay here until you’re done with them? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, and the baby can’t see yet anyway. Please don’t make me leave you. I went ten days not knowing if I’d see you again. Please don’t make me leave.” You whimpered. His arms tightened slightly around your waist. 

“Go sit back down okay? It won’t take long for me to take care of them.” He kissed you softly on the lips and helped you sit on the chair you’d been tied to five minutes ago. As soon as you sat down, a flip switched in Kirishima. 

“Where’s the other one?” He growled out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about man I’m the only one here. It was just me.” Kizuki gasped out. Bakugou’s hand was still pressed against his windpipe making it hard for him to breathe. Kirishima hardened his hand and slammed it into the wall next to Kizuki’s head making him yelp.

“I don’t like being lied to. I know there were two of you involved, now tell me where the fuck he is so I can kill you both and get on with my life.”

“You better do it man. We can make your death swift or painful and drawn out, it’s really up to you.” Bakugou shrugged casually. The sound of water hitting the floor hit your ears and you realized that Kizuki had pissed himself. 

“That’s disgusting. Shitty hair just kill him now, we can find the other one after.” 

Kirishima grabbed Kizuki by his hair and pushed him down to his knees. Hardening his arm again, he pressed it tightly against Kizuki’s neck before glancing up at you.

“Don’t watch princess.” He told you. You looked up at the ceiling before the sound of blood dripping and gagging hit your ears. A loud thump alerted you that you could look again. Kizuki’s body laid in a crumpled heap at the feet of your boyfriend and his best friend. Blood surrounded him, and you figured that Kirishima had used his quirk to slit the man’s throat. You sighed and cleared your throat.

“The other man’s name is Tsukasa. He’s the one who hit me and knocked me out when they came into the apartment. He’s in here somewhere, but I don’t know where. Eiji, please let Bakugou find him and let’s go home? It’s just those two. I’m positive he can take him on his own.” You begged. Bakugou shrugged. 

“I mean I can just demolish the place with him inside if you want me to shitty hair.”

“No. This dumbass hurt my girls, make him suffer.” Kirishima responded. Bakugou smiled and turned to search the rest of the building. Hands wrapped themselves around yours and Kirishima hoisted you up onto your feet. 

“Are you two okay?” He asked, his right hand grabbing both of yours and his left hand moving to rub your belly slightly. 

“As good as can be, I guess. I’m starving though, and I just want to go home and shower.” You sighed contently, wrapping your arms around your lover once more and leaning your head into his chest. 

“We’re not going home. We’re gonna go to a hotel, Kaminari and Bakugou are gonna grab anything you want and need from the apartment, and when you feel better we’re gonna go look at houses. I know it was just a fluke, but we need to make sure that no one else knows who you are or where you are. I can’t lose the two of you.” He glanced into your eyes and you noticed the unshed tears covering his. A massive explosion from somewhere within the building drew your attention away from each other. 

“Sounds like Bakugou got a hold of the other guy.” Kirishima chuckled. He knelt down slightly, grabbing the back of your thighs and wrapping them around his waist. You followed suit, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face into it. 

“Oi, you two coming or are ya gonna wait for the police to get here?” Bakugou yelled out. You looked up at him, noticing his soot covered face and smiled. 

“Yeah yeah Blasty. Let’s get out of here.”

#bnharem collab #kirishima #kirishima x reader

[step-on-me-natasha]

Blade; chapter 2

summary: Parker "Blade" Wiles, a high ranking SHIELD agent with an aptitude for sharp objects, goes missing. When Blade is found again with a darker and colder demeanor, SHIELD, with the help of The Avengers, are tasked with finding out what happened to their colleague and friend.

OC is ace and uses they/them pronouns

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x OC! reader (Blade)

warnings: knives, dead mom?? if anything else, let me know

RECAP:

“You are not gonna make it out alive” a voice came from the right of you. You pull out your swords and turn to the right. You gasp. “You’re a woman!”  “Indeed I am. But, like I said earlier, you’re not making it out of this one, sweetheart”  “Oh honey, they call me Blade for a reason, so you might not make it out alive.”  “I highly doubt that” she said as she hit you upside the head, knocking you out.

*At the HYDRA base

“Blade!” Natasha called out. “Blade! I heard a loud thump and I don't know if you just fell or if you’re dead!” She gets no response. By this time, everyone's comms have gone out. Great.  You’ve been knocked out and no one knows. Even better.

“Blade! Come on, this isn’t funny!” It’s not. Natasha starts searching every room on the way out of the base in search of you. She makes her way back into the room that she left you in. She's worked with you in the past, she knew you could handle yourself, so something bad has had to happen for you not to respond.

“Blade!” She was frantic, something happened to you and no one knows what. She starts to make her way back to the Quinjet, looking for you everywhere she can.

“Where's Blade?”

“Does it look like I fucking know Sam??” Natasha yells back. “I don't know! We split up! Okay, we split up, they were in one room, I was in the other! And then comms went out. And then they were gone. I don't know.” She says in one breath. “I don’t know.” She whispers.

“Okay, let's head home and figure out what happened and go from there.”  

“What?! No! We can’t leave! What if they're still in there? Tony, if we leave and they’re still there, they could die.”  

“Nat, if they aren’t in there, which they aren’t, they could already be dead”  

“Don’t say that Tony! Don't say that.” She exclaims. They enter the jet, heading home, while Natasha plops down in the seat you sat in on your way there.

*Meanwhile at an abandoned HYDRA base

“Ya know, for someone as intimidating as you, I thought it would be harder to get you here.” fucking bitch.

“Ya know, for a bitch of your caliber, I thought it would be easier to take you out. I was wrong apparently.'' You sassed back. Of course you were wrong! You’re fucking tied to a chair, you dumb shit.

“Here's what's going to happen-”  

“Nah nah nah sister, I am not going to do anything you tell me to do, that is simply, how I roll” you interrupt her. Nice way to set boundaries.

“I am not telling you to do anything” She replies “I am going to turn you into my personal-”  “assistant?”  “No! Let me finish!” She sighs, grabs a chair and sits down right in front of you.

“I am going to turn you into my very own winter soldier.” You scoff.

“That's dumb. It obviously didn’t end very well in the past.” She stares at you. “I mean, with the words and stuff too?” You ask.  “Well, yeah” amatuer. “Dude, Bucky escaped and found his long lost lover and now they live together in happy gay paradise, fighting the people who wronged either of them in the name of justice.” #stucky forever.

“You are so stupid.” She sighs. “I am right though, you could give me that.” My goal is to be the most annoying person she has ever met, in hopes of returning me. I think it’s working.

“Fine, I won’t use words. I wasn’t going to anyways” Catfishing bitch!

She gets up and starts to untie you from the chair. Before you could make a run for it, she cuffs your feet. HAH HAH she forgot my hands! She then cuffs your hands, while you are distracted. FUCK!

“Where are we going? Because I'm not too sure we’re on the same page here.” You ask. “The lab.” The lab? Of course the lab! Why wouldn’t we be going to the lab?!

“Huh, the lab. Got it.” She’s basically dragging you down the hallway to the lab. You look like a mom and a toddler who doesn’t want to go somewhere, so they end up getting dragged. I feel so stupid. Maybe Nat was right. I do do stupid things.

“So, what's your name?” You ask the woman.

“You don’t need to know my name.”  

“Pssh, why not? Is it bad?”  

“It’s not bad.” She says.

“Is it like Bertha or something?”  

“It's not fucking Bertha. If you really feel the need to call me something, then call me Madam” She finally replies.

“Kinky” You say with a smirk. EWWW NO. WHY DID YOU SAY THAT???

“Ugh, why did I pick this one?” Madam mutters to herself.

You get to the lab and immediately get strapped down to a table. This is a terrible way to die. I wish I could’ve gone out a cooler way, like, I don’t know, an avalanche could’ve taken me out or something. If you would’ve known this is how this mission ended for you, you would have faked a stomach ache like ferris bueller or some shit. As you lay there, spiralling into what you could’ve done to change this situation Natasha’s face pops up. If it wasn’t you who got kidnapped, it would've been her. That didn’t sit right with you. So, if you ended up dead in a place called “the lab” instead of Nat, then it was for the better.

“Why do you have this pout on your face? You seem upset” Madam asks.

“Now why would I be upset?” You retort. “I'm tied to a goddamn table, probably gonna die at the hands of HYDRA!”  

“A new and improved HYDRA” She pressed. “The old HYDRA was a waste. Only using men. They saw what the Red Room did and were afraid of what a powerful woman could do. So they made it impossible for change, unless they were destroyed. And they were, which gave us room to grow. We aren’t HYDRA, we are MYST.” And with that, she left the room.

She wasn’t wrong about a powerful woman, FUCK. As she walks away another woman comes up to you.

“Hey, hey! What the hell are you doing?!”  

“my job” She says as she pokes you with something.

“Ouch” you say drowsily “What was that?”  

“Something to make you sleep.” She says and walks away.

Soon after you pass out and the team of scientists begin experimenting. They work for what seems like days, but in actuality, was only a couple hours. You wake up, in a cell, strapped to what seems like a hospital bed. A nurse, or what you think is a nurse is next to you and pushes a blue button. Seconds later, Madam buzzes into the cell.

“Awww, they’re up. How was your nap sweetheart? Get some beauty sleep?” She coos.

“Oh yeah, dreamed about fairies and unicorns.” You sass “what's your play Madam? I’m an Avenger-” She cuts you off  

“That no one knows about.” You stare at her. “I chose you, not entirely because of your skills, but because no one knows who you are. You have been shielded from the spotlight your entire life, and with both parents dead, you were an easy grab. Sorry about your mother, by the way. It was a price I was willing to pay.”  

“What?” You say breathlessly.  

“Oh, you don’t know?”  

“Excuse me? What don’t I know?”  

''That accident wasn't an accident. We contacted her, Florence, about rebuilding HYDRA, with you as the fist, but she declined. She would’ve made some incredible improvements to our experiment, but she decided to keep you safe” She says in a demeaning tone.

“Keep my mothers name out of your mouth.”  

“Oh don't act upset! You barely talked to the woman after you joined the god forsaken Avengers!” You stayed silent.

It was true. You didn’t talk to her that often after joining the avengers. You only really sent her christmas and birthday cards when the time came. But then she showed up. Saying bad people were after her. You got her a new home, armed with Stark Industries best home alarm system possible and got in the car. You were almost there too. You were 10 miles away from the home when a heavily armoured truck rear ended you so hard the car almost flipped. Then another truck showed up, only in front of you this time. You walked away from the accident. She didn’t. Told you run. To go back to your new, and loving family. And you did. And look where you ended up anyways. Tied to a table with a crazy woman who only wanted to be called Madam.

“Just because I left does not mean that she should be put in danger,” You said slowly, “She did nothing wrong.”  

“That's where you’re wrong sweetheart. You see, your mother was a leading scientist in the Red Room before she escaped and wanted to start a family.” Madam starts,  

“She wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”  

“Ding ding ding! Ten points for Blade! You are right! She wouldn’t do anything to hurt you! That's the problem! She kept you hidden for so long and so well that when you moved to New York to join the righteous group of heroes, she couldn’t protect you anymore! That's where I come into the picture. I'm doing the thing Florence Wiles could never do.” The room went silent. All the lab assistants stopped working. Everyone just stared at the two of you.

“Knock her out and put em’ under, I don't have time for this.” Madam barks and for the second time that day, everything went black.

#natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x ace!raeder #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow fluff #black widow x ace!reader #black widow imagine #marvel x reader #marvel x ace!reader

[youresog0lden]

Last Thing I Do II Spencer Reid

Summary: SSA Davis has found her sister shot in front of her by her sisters stalker. When her best friend is left pick up the pieces just like she did for him. 

Warning: Cursing, Drug Mentions, Guns, Shooting, Blood. Very sad, Angst 

This story is very similar to Maeve’s story. I completely made up the scene where they try and catch the unsub. 

WC: 2.4k 

I used a real name because it was easier to write feel free to change the name !!

masterlist

I DO NOT OWN THE GIFS I USED !

"SSA Davis," I spoke confidently on the phone.

"Yes I understand." I say. I walk out of my office and into the meeting room.

"No time to get comfortable. This is huge." Garcia said turning on her remote.

"Three Murders in the past two nights."

"A mom and son and a younger man?" Reid questioned.

"Yes."

"Okay they need us in Atlanta Georgia. Wheels up in 30." I sigh.

"Are we ever going to get a break." JJ sighs. I shake my head no before going to my office. I sit in there for a second my head spinning a little bit. I hear a soft knock at my door.

"Yeah." I say. Spencer steps in.

"Hey what's up." I say

"Can I ask you a question?" he asks.

"You just did." I laugh. He rolls his eyes.

"No but for real what do you need?" I ask

"There was three different drugs found in the bodies. A drug for each person. What do you think that could me?" he asks.

"They're probably a sadist. Who somehow has a connection to drugs." I say.

"I get that but how would all of them get the types of drugs into them without a prescription. Besides LSD." he said

"I don't know but we'll figure it out." I say softly rubbing a hand on his arm. He nods.

"Let's go." I say we both grab our to-go bag's and head out onto the plane. We sit down on the plane only having to be on there for an maybe twenty minutes all of us decide to just sit quite and do our own thing. Ever since Hotch left to spend more time being a dad and I was put in charge I've always felt different. I don't like being in this high authority but I promised Hotch I would keep this team on track. Ring. I look down at the contact. Amber is calling,

"Hey I'm on the plane I'll text you later. Love ya." I send the text and turn off my phone. We land all of us heading to the cars. Driving down to the police station. I walk in there.

"Hello, I'm SSA Davis, These are agents Rossi, Morgan, Jareau, Prentiss, and Dr. Reid." all of them shake hands with the Sheriff except Spence. He just nods shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Okay. We have all the files Garcia asked for on a table and a conference room set up. If you need anything don't be afraid to ask." we all nod.

"Okay JJ, Morgan ya'll go to the the house of where the last murder took place. Prentiss and Rossi, ya'll talk to the witnesses and families. Reid and I will go down and get the autopsy report's and examine the body." I say we all split up. I give Spencer the keys as we drive. I feel a vibration from my pocket. I pull my phone out to see my sister calling again. I hit decline deciding to call her tonight. We pull up at the morgue. I look at my notebook making sure I have a pen to take notes.

"Who still takes notes." Reid teases.

"Not all of us have an eidetic memory." I ruffle his hair. He let's out a huff before laughing.

"SSA Davis?" the autopsy technicians asks.

"Yes."

"Okay well in the mom there we severe levels of a date rape drug called Rohypnol in her body."

"Rohypnol also knows as Forget-me pill, R2, and Roofies is a pill some versions of it turns blue when added to liquid but other forms have no color when added to liquid." Spencer states.

"So she was roofied. Did she have an alcohol in her system? Maybe she got it at a bar and the unsub followed her home."

"No there we're nothing but water and rohypnol found in her body."

"Any food?"

"No."

"What about the-" I was cut off by my ringer going off. I shut it off again.

"Sorry about that. What about the boy?"

"He was a teen there we're high levels of Phencyclidine found in his system."

"It creates numbness of the legs and arm areas so he can't move."

"Yes, we think this was a really well though out plan to this because there was no way that this could've just happened randomly." I nod.

"What about the other one. We we're told high levels of LSD were found. So was he drugged when he died or was he coming off the high?" Spencer asked.

"We looked but couldn't really tell. But we made an educated guess and are saying that it was already in his system maybe to get him where they wanted him."

"They?"

"There's no way that only one person could do this. It had to be a team." she says. I nod.

"Thank you for you're time. If you have any more evidence please give us a call." I give her my card and she nods. We walk out and sit in the car.

"So they we're drugged before they could get away. Kept there for a day or two given water but no food and then brutally murdered. They are definitely a sadist." Reid says I nod.

"Let's go Morgan says the father of the kids are there."

"Father as singular."

"Yes apparently he is the father of both kids. Different moms." I say. He nods speeding off. We make it to the precinct. Spence and I walk into the interrogation room.

"John Hunter." I shake his hand.

"Why am I in here I didn't do anything." he pleaded.

"We needed you to be somewhere where there were not many people." he nods.

"Do you know who these three people are?" Reid asked.

"Yes that's my wife and sons." okay.

"Who are these two people." I ask.

"That's my ex-wife and son."

"Why isn't you're son with you in these photos. But you're youngest with you're first wife is."

"He was mentally ill. They had to take him away when me and my first wife Rose got a divorce he tired to kill his brother. Drowning him in a bathtub. He was sick." I nod.

"Can you give me his name." I ask

"Jack Hunter." he says. I nod and walk out. Dialing Garcia.

"Goddess of Everything Computer Related how may I help you."

"Hey can you do a background search on Jack Hunter and when he was released form a mental hospital. "

"Yes ma'am." she says,

"Okay so he was released from St. Claire's Mental Instantiation two weeks before the first murder."

"What about his mom?"

"Rose Strut she was given... you'll never guess."

"What."

"Phencyclidine"

"God I love you Garcia." I hang up seeing four missed call from my sister in the past twenty minutes. Reid walks out.

"It's time to give the profile." I said.

----

"We are looking for Jack Hunter and Rose Strut. They we're last seen two miles south of the Savannah River." I said.

"They could possibly be armed so if you are to see them do not go up to them. They will not be afraid to kill at this point." Emily said.

"If you do see them at any point. Please call the police and get away fast." Morgan finished. I hear my ringer again.

"Hey Garcia what's up."

"You'll never guess who's phone just pinged at a cell phone tower five minutes away,"

"Send the address." I circle my fingers telling everyone to load up.

---

Jack and Rose we're now being put into life in prison without the possibility of parole. We we're all getting off the plane when my phone goes off.

"Ash. "

"Hey Amber . What's up."

"She's back help-" before she said anything else I heard screaming.

"AMBER" I yell into my phone.

"AMBER." I yell again. Everyone looking at me. They put the stairs down. I grab my bag running down.

"Davis." I hear my team yell. I race to my car unlocking it. I start the car as fast as I can driving away. I'd be at Amber's house in a matter of minutes but realizing I wasn’t going fast enough I turn on my lights speeding down the high way. I finally pull onto her street. I stop at her drive way running up my gun sitting in my hand. I try opening the  door but its locked, I kicked in the door.  Looking all around before sighing. I heard a muffled scream come from the front yard so I run out the door as quick as I can seeing her. Holding a gun to Amber’s head. I must have forgotten my head set was on because I could hear the team yelling for me through it.

"Don't you come any closer or I will kill her."

"Please you don't have to do this." I begged.

"You killed my mom. I think it's only fair." she laughs. I take a step forward.

"Stop fucking moving." she yelled. I held my hand up my gun still in my hands.

"Drop your gun." she said. I drop my gun. She looks at me again and laughs,

"See I'm going to kill her either way but now you're just defenseless." she laughs. It was almost to fast to happen. A ring came into my ear's and I see her drop to the ground.

"AMBER." I called out

Blood spilling out of her head. I don't know if something kicked in my I grab my gun out of my leg canister and pull the trigger.  

"Oh hun. I'm not that easy to kill." she picks up her gun. Before shooting one last shot hitting me in my arm. I hissed in pain.

"I will kill you if it's the last thing I do. Weather I actually kill you are watch you fall apart mentally I will watch you suffer." she laughs falling to the ground. I see the lights flooding around us. I drop to my knees crying.

"Amber." I say softly. I put her limp body in my lap. I stroke the hair out of her face kissing her forehead. I see my team moving out of there cars. Kiera being taken away into cuffs. At this point all I'm doing is crying. I feel someones arms around me as they pick up my sister. I try to fight back but its inevitably not worth it. I'm covered in her blood. I turn around to see Spencer's arms around me.  I almost fall in them crying.

"Come on. We need to get you're arm looked at." We walk to the ambulance. I sit on the edge having them tear into my shirt cleaning up the barley scraped skin. I start staring into the space. Until. I grab Spencer's arm looking into his eyes.

"She has a kid. Where's Blake." I said softly.

"We'll find him. Right now you have to go to the hospital. I'll  come with you okay." he says just as softly.

"Okay."

----

They say it's always the hardest after. But what's hardest was telling my mom that it could've been me not her or that she would still be alive if I didn't move. Her funerals today. But a part of me can't go. This is my fault. I can almost hear my parents saying it to me but, none the less I still go. They found Blake and Tom her husband. They we're on out at a movie. Amber had to stay home for work. They don't blame me. They tried to tell me that I couldn't stop it even if I tried. Blake isn't old enough to understand what it means yet but he'll get there one day.

---

The funeral is over. I'm sitting in my tiny apartment surrounded by my feelings. My team couldn't be here. They were needed somewhere else. Even though Spence did offer to stay with me.

~ Flashback ~

"Spence." I called out.

"Spence I'm not leaving so please let me in." I say. I hear the door's locks come undone. He opens the door. He's standing there in a t-shirt, a cardigan, and a pair of pants, his hair was a mess, his eyes were puff, and he had bags under his eyes.

"Spence." I pull him into a hug. He wraps his arms around me crying into my shoulder.

"I couldn't do anything about it." he cries harder.

"Pretty boy, listen. It's not your fault. As much as I hate to say it. Diane already knew what she was going to do. Baby you couldn't stop that." I said softly. He just cry's.

"Can I come in?" he nods. I grab his hand he shuts and locks the door. I walk to his bed and lay down opening my arms. He cuddles into them laying his head on my chest.

"Go to sleep kid. I'll be right here when ever you need me."  I look at him. I kiss his forehead before putting my hand in his hair.

"I'll always be here for you." I said softly. His grip around my waist got tighter.

~ End of Flashback ~

I stood there a picture of us hung on the wall.

"I'm sorry." I said softly.

"Ash." I hear Spencer's voice call out. It startled me so i let out a yelp.

"Ash let me in please." I couldn't move. I hear keys jiggle and I see the door nob turn. Fuck why'd I have to give him a key.

"Ash." he says softly looking at me. He looked at me head to toe. I was wearing a pair of sweatpants and some how his 'Caletech' shirt. He sets his stuff on my counter and looks at me. I walk over to him standing in front of him. I let a tear drip down my cheek. He wraps his arms around me. I start sobbing in his chest.

"Why are you here..." I ask looking into his eyes. He placed a kiss on my forehead. His hands on both sides of my face.

"Because you we're here day after day when Maeve was killed so I will be here day by day until you are okay. because I love you. I love you more than anything." he says softly. I look into his eyes they were glistening with hope

"You love me?" I ask.

"Of course I do. I've loved you since day you offered to help me through everything you stuck by my side through everything, all my stupid little lectures, my rants, and facts. You're one of a kind." he said. I look up at him one more time. I lean forward into his lips. Melting together like butter.

"I love you too." he smiles and kisses me again.

"Let's go lay down." he says I nod.

“Everything will be okay” he whispers in your ear

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #spencer #spencer reid smut #mgg fic #matthew gray gubler #mgg fanfiction #mgg #mgg smut #derek morgan #garcia #emily prentiss #jenifer jareau #david rossi

[writingsbychlo]

heart under construction (06)

word count; 4551

summary; jake takes his little brother for a heart to heart, and gives him some harsh truths.

notes; oh, y’all are going to hate it and love it at the same time. it’s painful but it’s the sort of pain that you’re going to love, and then it’s just suuuuuper cute.

warnings; none. just adorable.

With a huff, Sam squeezed his eyes shut tighter to block out the morning light that was threatening to wake him even more. With a sigh, he rolled over to move his skin from the rays of sun poking through the tall balcony doors, feeling the warmth spreading across his back as he reached out, slinging an arm over your waist. 

Except, his arm landed against the soft carpet, one of his eyes cracking open as he looked around for you. The sun was lighting up the room in a golden early morning hue, specs of dust floating through the air lightly as he blinked, rubbing at his eyes and the pounding in his head suddenly became apparent. Taking a deep breath, Sam cringed as his throat felt like sandpaper, the taste in his mouth making him feel like gagging as he tried to come to terms with his hangover. 

Glancing down, heat crawled up his cheeks as he lay naked, sprawled out on the empty bedroom floor. Grabbing is boxers, he tugged them up his legs, his body aching as he stumbled to his feet to scoop up his jeans. Not even your bag or coat remained, and the house around him was silent, confusion filling the man and a frowned pulled on his face as he redressed himself. 

The silence was cut by the shrill ringing of his phone, and the pounding in his head only seemed to intensify as he searched for his phone, finding it sitting up on the window frame as the picture of a redhead pouting at him filled his screen. In his panic to decline, his phone shut down entirely, and he cursed as he tried to start it back up again. 

His foot was tapping angrily against the floor, the loading screen showing a small apple and he glared at the fruit as it seemed to drag on and on. When it had finally loaded, the notifications began to spring in, and he nibbled on the nail of his thumb as he anxiously waited for them all.

[Jessie from Tinder] Missed Call (3)

[Rachel from Tinder] Hey handsome, when do I next get to see ya?

[Jake 👷] How’d it go? You haven’t called me yet.

[Jake 👷] I’m assuming it went either really well or really bad.

“Oh, fuck!” He ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the text from Rachel, before his phone was once again buzzing, the sultry picture of the fiesty girl he’d been seeing on and off for the prior couple of weeks and he groaned, running a hand over his chin before clicking ‘accept’. “Hey, Jess..”

“Hiya, Sammy. Been calling you all morning.” 

“I know.” He spoke the words through gritted teeth, swallowing thickly. “I was.. Busy.”

“Are you busy all day? Because I was thinking maybe we could have a lazy day together, you don’t even have to wear your clothes.”

Her voice passed over the words in a sing-song tune and he winced, his jaw dropping as he tried to fumble for a response. “I just got dressed, so..”

“Well, I could undress you, and I’ll let you undress me? I know how much you like to.” 

She was baiting him, and he knew it, but he was far too hungover to handle this conversation with any kind of dignity and his head dropped back, letting him stare at the ceiling for a moment before he decided on his words. “Jess, look, I need to be totally honest with you.”

“Uh-huh?”

“You’re a really nice girl, and we have so much fun. We do. These past few weeks have been great and-”

“Oh my God, you’re not asking me out, right?”

“No!” He headed toward the stairs, rolling his eyes at himself from his outburst, and he listened to her chuckle down the phone. “I’m trying to tell you we can’t do this anymore. There’s a chick. Another chick, and I really like her..”

“I really hope it works out for you, Sam. And hey, if it doesn’t, then you have my number.”

“That I do.” He laughed, relief flooding his system momentarily as he reached the bottom floor, and he placed his free hand on his hip, looking around at the empty kitchen and frowning. “Thanks, Jess. Bye.”

Looking down at the blank screen, he cleared the call log, sending a half-assed reply to Rachel before moving onto his brother and trying to work out what to say. The blank message was staring at him, calling him a coward as he worked out just how to face down his brother, how to confess what happened.

It went really well. Like mind-blowingly well, multiple times. And then, it went really, really bad. Like Richter Scale 9.9 bad. 

Finally moving his fingers across the screen, he hit send, rereading the text he had constructed as the little bubble at the bottom popped up, the three dots dancing as he waited.

[Jake 👷] Okay, 1st of all, gross. 2nd, what the FUCK did u do?

He practically pouted down at his phone, brows furrowed. 

I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING.

[Jake 👷] Uh-huh. I’ll pick u up and take u for breakfast, and u can tell me all about what u “didn’t” do.

He grinned, at his phone, his stomach rumbling at the mere mention of breakfast food, and despite the twisting nausea in his gut, his mouth was practically salivating as he thought about the breakfast fry-up he would be getting within the hour.

You’re the best. I love you so much. I want coffee too.

[Jake 👷] Course, u do, I’m the best big bro there is. I need coffee to deal with ur fuck up.

[Jake 👷] Also ily2.

The large plate was finally placed down in front of him, and Sam had his knife and fork in his hands before the waitress had even left the table. With a hurried thank you, he stabbed aggressively at his bacon, folding the entire piece up and eating the strip in its entirety, his brother giving him a disgusted look. Sam would have flipped him off, if there wasn’t a trickle of bacon grease dripping from his lower lip, and he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand quickly, chewing as he did.

“You disgust me.”

“Good.” His retort could barely be heard around the mouthful of food, and Jake’s eyebrows rose as he sliced off an appropriately sized chunk of his omelette and lifted it to his mouth carefully. 

“So, you wanna’ tell me what happened then?”

Sam’s chewing slowed, and he had to practically choke down the bacon in his mouth, before nodding slowly. “I kissed her, and she kissed me back. It was very, very nice. The best kiss I ever had, actually.” He glanced down at his plate, picking up a piece of toast and distracting himself by spreading the butter across it. 

“Well, that’s good. Right?”

“Yeah, it was amazing. It was hot, too, seriously. The kissing wasn’t the only thing that was the best I ever had.” Sam sighed, ignoring the grunt his brother let out as he bit into the toast, sighing as the tasty food touched his tastebuds.

“So, what happened?”

“I don’t know. When I fell asleep, she was all cuddled into my chest and we were happy. I was fucking elated!” He scoffed, picking his fork back up once the toast was finished and poking around the food on his plate before settling in chopping up a sausage. “When I woke up, I was alone. She was gone, and I had a text from Rachel and calls from Jessie an-”

“Who’s Rachel?”

“Tinder chick.” Sam waved his hand, Jake rolling his eyes as he looked at him and Sam felt silent for a moment as he continued with his food, his stomach finally settling as he filled it with the tasty food. “So, clearly, she saw the text, and all the calls from Jess, and she must’ve thought..”

“Thought that you played her, slept with her, and then planned to treat her like one of your other hook-up girls, especially based on your past history of ditching her for a hot night?” Jake subsidised, and Sam glared at him, pausing mid-chew.

“I was leaving it for a subtle understanding between us, but thank you so much for that ridiculously aggressive form of the truth. Nothing gets past you, huh?” Jake simply flashed him a sly grin, the two men continuing to eat in quiet as they considered their options, and it wasn’t until the plates had been cleared and Sam was sipping his coffee as his brother pulled out his wallet that either of them spoke again.

“Why don’t you just call her?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s a good idea. ‘Hey, I know you’re probably super mad at me, especially now that, like, two hours have gone by, but I do really like you, I just didn’t think I had a chance with you and I didn’t think to delete all my hook-ups as contacts,. But, now I’ve decided that I am, in fact, in love with you, so I’m sorry I’m such a jackass, wanna date?’, yeah, that sounds awesome, Jake.” Sam huffed, his brother staring at him with wide eyes and a soft smile. “What?”

“You’re in love with her?”

Sam’s own eyes widened, and he let out a long sigh, before slumping down in his seat, smiling politely at the waitress as she handed over their receipt and a card with her name on in hopes of a review. “Yeah. So?”

“You’ve never told me you loved a girl before, that’s all.”

“What? Yes, I have!” His frown only deepened, and he fidgeted in his seat, a stormy mood coming over him from where he had somewhat brightened up. “What about.. y’know..”

“Evelyn?” Sam winced at the name of his ex, but nodded, picking at a splinter on the table as his brother hummed. “You never once said to me that you loved her. Not even when you broke up. I know it sucked what happened, but-”

“She was angry at her fiancé for making her move across the country so she dated me, and then married him anyway. I thought it would be me and her! I really liked her, Jake!” The words were practically growled out, and his brother only continued to beam, nodding excitedly. 

“Exactly! You really liked her, but you never once said you loved her!”

“Never? Not once?” Sam clarified, sitting up in his seat, and leaning across the table a little. 

“Not a single time. You know what this means, right?” He shook his head, urging the older man to continue speaking. “It means we have to fix this, dude!”

“We do? We can?”

“You’re fucking hopeless.” He sighed, taking his coat and he followed his brother’s lead, as the two of them stepped out of the homey diner. 

“How, exactly, are we going to fix it?”

Monday was screwed, Sam had waited the whole afternoon to see you. He’d been home, showered, and put on his best shirt, his hair flopping around his forehead in fluffy curls as he sat in the truck, listening to his playlist quietly as he waited to see you, hoping that you would pass by. 

He spent the time going through his phone, deleting his contacts and clearing out anyone who wasn’t important, his finger hovering over your name as he considered calling you, but he had to stick to the plan. The bouquet of beautiful flowers on the seat beside him forced him to do so. He had picked them out especially, spending over ten minutes staring at the colourful arrangements before settling on a pricey bunch of flowers that he thought were perfect. 

He had run over the speech in his mind several times, he had it all worked out, and now, he was chewing on his bottom lip and waiting for you to pass by. His eyes seemed to find the clock every minute or two, time only seeming to drag on even slower each time before he finally busied himself with cleaning out the truck of the car, and walking through the house, picking up the beer bottles for the night before and scrubbing the spilt lager from the floor.

When the sun was finally setting, he had given up hope, Jake driving him home as he gripped onto his flowers, assuring him that maybe you were just sick because of your hangover, and that he couldn't give up hope. 

Jake was right, he absolutely couldn’t give up. 

Not when he was this close to being happy.

Tuesday passed by in the same fashion, the flowers had been brought back, and he played with the stems gently, picking the thorns off of the roses and building up a small pile, until he stems were smooth and he had a small handful of spiky plant bits in the palm of his hand. Rolling down the window, he sprinkled them out onto the pavement, disposing of them quickly. His head snapped up when he noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye, sitting up straight as he gasped, but his mood came quickly plummetting down as he realised it was not you, it was simply one of the older neighbours, making her way up the road slowly. 

He watched her carefully, her husband locking the front door shakily before he followed after her, doing his best speedwalk to catch up to her, his arm held out as he neared. She had paused, linking her arm through his and pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek before they had continued on their way, and he waved at them as they passed.

His heart was racing, and his mind drifted back to you. He could picture the two of you together in your older age, looking after one another as you moved about the big house before him. The rooms would have been redecorated over and over, from baby rooms to kids, to teenagers, to teens that thought they were adults. When they were old enough, perhaps the rooms would have been changed back to baby rooms once again, as he revisited those years when he had grandkids to look down on fondly.

Wednesday was when Sam hit his low, the half week had pulled around and Sam had convinced Jake to message you when the middle of the struck. If you had been staying off because of your hangover, you had to have passed it by now, and you were avoiding him. 

He was familiar with this habit, you had another way to work and you had to be taking it. He had no idea how to find you, three days had no passed and Sm felt like he couldn't breathe. His flowers had begun to turn slightly brown on the petals, and the heat of the day and forced him out of the truck to sit on the front steps of the house because today was absolutely sweltering. He had convinced Jake to send you a text, something he had really hoped sounded light and breezy, the two had spent over half an hour trying to construct it carefully, and you had simply left it on ‘read’. Despite how much Jake had insisted it was okay, Sam could tell it clearly hurt him. Because of his own idiocy, he had now lost the woman he loved, and he had forced Jake to lose a good friend in the process.

He wanted to throw up.

He was still toying with just calling you, but now it felt like a waste of time. If you weren’t talking to Jake, you sure as hell wouldn't be talking to him, and you had probably blocked his number by this point. Jake had pulled him out of that little spiral by telling him to man up and stop looking like he was crying on the porch.

Thursday and Friday flew past in a blur, and new hope barely being enough to keep him cheered up but it was enough to keep him going. Jake had to drag him off of the porch when it had started to get cold, only the promises of a crate of beer and plenty of pizza had forced him up onto his feet. He felt like he’d been sitting in the car for far too long, and he looked down at the watch on his wrist, finding that Jake had now been in the pizza shop for over thirty minutes, and while they had definitely ordered a lot of food, it certainly wasn’t thirty minutes after being given a collection time’s worth of food. 

With a deep groan, he leaned back and kicked his feet up on the dash, resting his elbow on the edge of the door and balancing his head on top of his hand. Cranking up the radio, the same song that you’d first heard on your trip to Ikea was playing and he wanted to gag at the predictability of it. 

Of course, this song had to play. 

As if his week hadn't sucked enough already. 

Deciding he had most definitely had enough, he opened the car, snatching the keys from the ignition and locking it behind himself as he jogged down the road toward the pizza shop, ducking into it and finding Jake just as peeved as he was. Sensing his brother’s arrival, Jake glanced over scowling and shrugging his shoulders as they looked around the packed little entryway. 

Leaning against the wall next to him, Sam crossed his arms, looking out into the darkness over the evening outside and huffing. He just couldn't cat a fucking break, and now, even his cheer-up dinner was turning out to be a bust. He hadn't realised he’d zoned out until his arm began to ache, and he snapped back, looking to Jake who was hitting his arm forcefully. 

“Dude, why are you hitting m- Ow! Stop that!” He smacked at his brother’s arms, scowling as he turned to look at him, arms flying out to his sides in question, and Jake pointed back out of the window, across the road and into the dark.

“There!” He gestured, and Sam squinted as he peered out.

“What?”

“Look over near the little clock towards and the cabs. That’s (Y/N), right?” Sam looked again, his jaw dropping, a shocked mumble falling from his lips as he watched you walking by, your hands rubbing up and down your arms and you took up a slight jog in the night air, and Sam was stumbling over his own feet as he raced from the little shop.

“(Y/N)!” He watched as you spun around, shocked slightly as you looked around, before you spotted him, sending him a short wave and a polite smile, before continuing your way after watching him for a second longer. He was thankful for the late hour, the roads fairly empty and Sam made his way across the road in a quick dash, following after you and hooking his hand into your elbow, spinning you to face him as he panted lightly. “Please wait.”

“Sam..”

“You gave me your polite smile, and I hate that smile.” He mumbled, your face falling even further as your shoulders slumped, and you looked at him carefully before adjusting your bag on your shoulder, wrapping your arms around yourself in the cool evening. 

“You hate my smile?”

“No.” He shook his head lips pursed as he rubbed his hands together, trying to work out how best to say what he was trying to. “I love your smile. I love everything about you. But you have different smiles, okay? You have all these different looks, and I don’t like the polite smile look, because it’s the same look you give to someone when you don’t like them and you don’t want to talk to them, and I want to be someone you like and want to talk to.”

“I don’t get where this is going? The ball was in your court, Sam, you didn’t call!” 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to!” He exclaimed, the volume of his voice matching yours as the two of you stared one another down, and Sam narrowed his eyes, confusion etched on his features as he tried to work out what was going on.

“Why would I not want you to?”

“Because of Jessie!” He wanted to actually die, because he had never seen you look sadder than he did in this very moment, because you practically deflated before his eyes, and he panicked. 

“Who’s Jessie?” He shrugged off his coat, wrapping it around your shoulders and using his grip on the collar to pull you forward. 

“You’re cold, please put this on, otherwise you’re going to freeze.” He mumbled, licking over his lips as you pushed your arms through the sleeves, hs fingers moving down the front as he buttoned it up carefully to keep you warm, before pulling his hands back, respectfully pushing them into his pockets. “Jessie was this girl I was seeing for a few weeks, the last time I saw her was the night I left you to watch the sunset with Jake. I had a bunch of missed calls from her on the morning after we.. were together.. and a text from a girl called Rachel, I figured you saw them and thought I was playing you and so you left.”

“I don’t care about who you hooked up with before, Sam. I’m mad that you never called me. I don’t care if you used to be a ‘player’ or whatever, but I’m the kind of girl that likes to be with a guy in a real relationship. You told me I was special, and you made me feel like you wanted.. more!”

“I-” He choked, your gaze softening as you shrugged at him your gaze dropping to hide your expression and he whined, stepping into your space and risking the rejection as he placed his hands on your face, lifting your sights back up to his as he watched you carefully. “I’m in love with you. I’m so in love with you, it’s insane.”

“What?”

“I was a player, and I liked it. And then, this super cute nursery teacher walked by one day six months ago and I hit her on the head and at that moment I think I fell way harder than she did.” He huffed, your teasing smile at his cheesy words making heat crawl up his cheeks, but he’d started now, and he had to finish. “You’re so cute, and I was damaged but I don’t care because all I want is to hold your hand, and kiss you in the mornings, and attend those functions every year as your date.”

“So, why didn’t you call?”

He gave you a little smile, his hands sliding over your shoulders to hold yours, your joint fingers almost swamped by the long sleeves of his coat hanging on your frame. “You left, I thought you were angry at me.”

“I left you a note!”

“You what?” You grinned, one hand leaving his as you dug your hands into the pockets of the coat you wore, pulling out his phone as you flicked through it and opened the notes app, showing him the latest draft there. 

‘got a call from work, had to dash. wish I could stay, call me and we can do dinner or smthin. I had a great time last night, it was amazing.’

You held the phone up in front of his face, lighting up the blush he sported as you watched him read the words out loud, and he sighed, defeated. “I didn’t see your note.” He felt angry, at himself, and he swallowed thickly, dropping his head. “I didn’t see the fucking note, I’m an id-”

Your lips pressed to his softly, and he hummed happily, his hands finding your hips and pulling you closer as you chuckled against his lips. Your hands found a home around his neck, and he pulled you impossibly closer, up onto your tiptoes as his arms wrapped around your waist to hold you as close to him as he possibly could. 

“It’s hard to kiss you when you’re laughing at me.” He muttered, only making you laugh more, and your forehead rested against his. He stroked a hand up and down your back, pecking the tip of your nose as he smiled, before letting you tuck your face into his neck, holding you in a tight hug. “You’re not mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.” You mumbled, scattering kisses along his jaw as you trailed your lips back up to his, Sam’s breathing going shallow and he let out a low groan when you finally kissed him again. This time, you weren’t laughing and smiling. 

Your lips were pressed to his in long and slow movements, dragging together slowly as your body leaned on his for more support, and his own knees trembled as he let his tongue flick out to tease at your lower lip. Tilting your head to the side, you parted them for him, and he licked his way into your mouth happily, little moans falling from both of you in unison. 

“Fuck yeah!”

You squeaked at the loud noise, your body falling away and Sam looked over his shoulder, Jake cheering as he held onto the pizza boxes, practically bouncing on the spot as he beamed at you both from the other side of the empty road. 

“Tell her the thing!”

“I already did, Jake!” The man growled at his brother, feeling you poke at his arm.

“What thing?”

“The ‘I love you’ thing- Jake, stop staring at us!” Sam snapped at his brother again, his sour mood quickly fading as he heard you laughing, your face burying into his shoulder as you held onto his hand with both of yours. He excused himself from you for a moment, jogging across the road to take a pizza from the top of the pile and tossing his brother his car keys before making his way back to you, holding it up as an offering. “How about pizza? And kissing. Lot’s of kissing. Maybe a movie. It’s a barbecue chicken pizza.” 

He shrugged his shoulders as you rolled your eyes fondly, nodding at him as you held out your hand, fingers spread. With a racing heart, he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles before dipping his head down to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “Say the thing, again.”

“It’s a barbecue chicken pizza?” Your elbow dug into his ribs as you guided him back to your car, and he grumbled under his breath about the joke, smiling as you falsely pulled away from him, but his hand around yours tightened, instead, pulling you closer to him before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He pressed a wet kiss to your cheek, before raising up enough to brush his lips to your ear. “Oh, did you mean, I love you? I do. I love you, a lot.”

“I love you too, and I want first pick of the slices in that box.”

“Deal.”

#sam taylor #sam taylor amazing stories #dylan obrien sam taylor #sam taylor x reader #sam taylor/reader #amazing stories #dylan obrien amazing stories #dylan o'brien amazing stories #dylan obrien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien fic #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien imagine #heart under construction #HUC

[bucky-smiles]

Doing Good

A oneshot? WOAH! Happy Early Halloween, here’s yall’s treat. Big love to @honeybucks and @delicatelyherdreams for betaing and helping in making my insecurities about this a little less. I’m going to note and say that flashbacks are not in chronological order. That’s all I’m saying though!

Prompt: This is an entry for my @star-spangled-bingo card for the Domestic AU square! If Bucky didn’t “die” in the war... Set in the late 60s and based on The Gambler by fun. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings: Fluff, angst, description of injury, mentions of blood and PTSD, war, children 

Honest to God, Bucky Barnes always wondered how the hell he got to where he was. The last thing that he thought of when growing up was that he’d end up with the life he has now. The focus then was staying alive and getting by on the tiny sums given to him on all of the paychecks he received from the jobs he worked. 

Falling in love was the last thing on his mind… Although he did indulge himself in that world from time to time. 

Even though Bucky and Steve were living paycheck to paycheck, they still tried to make the most of their lives by going to dance clubs, bars, and Coney Island whenever they had a little bit extra they could spend. That’s what happened the night his life changed for the better. That’s what happened the night he met her. 

It was a chillier night in Brooklyn when Bucky convinced Steve to go out for a night of dancing with dames. Steve didn’t want to, but figured he’d just indulge his best friend rather that listening to all the complaints Bucky would have about staying in. So there they were, the loud music hitting them the moment they entered the place. There was laughing, glasses clinking, and a jazz band ready to play to the night’s end… And Bucky’s smile and excitement made going out worth it to Steve.

Bucky was already scoping out the area, looking for potential dance partners as Steve found them a booth to put their jackets down at.. Also where Steve would likely be spending most of the night. Bucky got two coke bottles, moving to where Steve was sat and setting them down. He removed his jacket and set it down in the booth, eyes still flitting about the smiling faces in the vicinity. 

That's when his steel blue eyes meet hers... It was barely a glance, in all honesty. Bucky and her eyes bounced off each other before moving to other people and parts of the room.. The eye contact was unintentional, not to be spoken about again to anyone if brought up.. They didn’t even know it happened in all honesty, so what was the point?

The moment  Y/N looked back to Bucky was when she realized that there was a good looking, brunet man without a dance partner. Or at least without a visible dance partner. If she asked him to dance, what was the worst thing that could happen? Rejection? That wasn’t all that big a threat.. Especially if she’d never see him again after this.. Which was why she found herself moving in his direction, her own coke bottle in hand as she moved. 

When Bucky noticed a pretty girl coming his way, his heart found its way into his throat. She took his breath away and just.. Wow.. 

He was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open when the girl flashed him a bright smile before speaking, “Hiya! I’m Y/N.. Wanna dance?” 

Love at second sight. 

“Bucky, did I schedule people to handle the shop today? I can’t remem-” Y/N walked into their shared bedroom, the stress radiating from her. She had a habit of misplacing her journal that had all of these notes and would go on a stress spree trying to remember everything. 

“Doll,” Bucky interrupted, “you know you did.. You’re a good shop owner, don’t stress this much..” The man sits up in bed, metal arm creaking just a little bit as he boosts himself. “C’mere.. It’s barely 10.. We have time left to be lazy..” There was a soft smile on his lips and it quickly passed to Y/N’s as well and she let out a quiet sigh before moving to get back into bed beside her husband of 30 years, curling up into his side and wrapping an arm around his bare torso. 

“You’re right.. M’sorry..” Y/N lets out a quiet laugh before continuing, “I still have to find the damn journal though.. But.. Yeah later.. It’s fine.. You’re right, we have time..” She looks up to her husband before tapping his side gently, “What’s got you in such a good mood, hm? Sleep real well or something?”

Bucky leans down and presses a soft kiss to his wife’s forehead before speaking, “That and.. And I was thinking about us.. And how far we’ve come.. And all that.. Hey, don’t give me that look, I’m feeling nostalgic..” He laughs a little at the way that Y/N wrinkled her nose a little. 

“You’re such a sap, Buck..” 

“I know.. But I’m your sap.”

“So how does a beautiful doll like you end up working in a diner, hm? You should be in Hollywood or something,” That was Bucky speaking as he walked Y/N home. This was their third date now. They hadn’t counted the first night of dancing.. But every time they were together after that was most definitely a date. 

Y/N had Bucky’s jacket draped over her shoulders as they walked and his statement caused her to roll her eyes. She was toying with the singular rose that Bucky had gotten her earlier that evening and raised her shoulders in a gentle shrug, “The depression isn’t doing anyone favors, Bucky.. My parents need the money so I’m tryna help em’ as much as I can. Can’t do much else now that I’m 18.” 

Bucky knew the feeling, especially since he had moved in with Steve. But Y/N knew his situation for the most part. Only 3 dates and Bucky wanted to tell her everything there was to know about him. Even better, he wanted to give her everything too; his time, body, mind, and soul. Although Bucky figured that that would be a little strange to say all things considered. He’d only known Y/N for a couple of weeks now and was already feeling so strongly. 

“And if your parents didn’t need the money? What would you be doing?” Bucky felt this need to know everything about her. What she wanted from life, her hopes and dreams, worst fears and pet peeves. Anything she was willing to talk about. 

The question causes her to smile a little bit and she lets out a quiet, breathy laugh, “I’d still work.. But I’d save the money to open a flower shop of my own.” 

Bucky’s smile brightened at her words. Here she was with the desire to start her own business. Y/N really was the smartest girl in the world wasn’t she. He didn’t think twice as he spoke, “You know what doll?”

Y/N’s brow raises playfully as she looks to Bucky, “What, Buck?”

“When all the depression business is over, m’gonna stop just giving you a rose every time I see ya.. I’m gonna put the money in to help that shop of yours.. Cause’ you’re gonna make it big. I already know it.” And truly, Bucky meant every word he spoke. This wasn’t just flirting, rather a way to show how impressed he was by this girl. 

Y/N shakes her head a little at that, “We’ll see when the ‘depression business’ is over.. In the meantime, just stick with the roses.” She bonks the top of Bucky’s head with the rose as she speaks, a bright smile on her lips. He was cute with little things like that. It made Y/N’s heart swell. 

In response, Bucky only takes Y/N’s hand, swinging it between the two of them gently as they continue to walk under the starry night on the Brooklyn streets. 

Y/N lets out a quiet sigh as she shifts for just a moment to look at the clock. Seeing that it was only a little past 1 in the afternoon, she relaxes against her husband once more, looking up to him and smiling softly, “None of them are gonna be here for a few more hours.. We have more time..” 

Bucky tightens his grip around Y/N and kisses her forehead gently, looking down to meet her gaze, “I know.. That’s why I haven’t gotten out of bed yet, doll.” He leans down to kiss her properly, holding it for a few moments before pulling away, “I wish we could have more of them, ya know? I miss when they were all babies and we got to raise them and all of that..” 

Y/N laughs quietly at his words and nods her head a little, “Yeah me too.. Except I don’t miss carrying them around for 9 months.. And I don’t miss waking up every other hour.. Plus, we’re too old to have any more. I know for sure that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with a baby. And no matter how badly you want to, I know you wouldn’t either.” 

The man lets out a long sigh. His wife was always right, he knew that for sure. She was so smart and always said the things that he wouldn’t want to say. And she was right in all of this too. Now at 52, life was getting to be just a little more difficult. His arm didn’t make things easier. He could feel his mobility declining and, while it was natural, Bucky still didn’t want to give up his young soul and childish tendencies. “Yeah, I know, doll.. But a guy can dream, ya know?”

“Yeah yeah, I know.. Did Winnie say if she was coming or not?” Y/N let her hand drift over Bucky’s chest, drawing random patterns over the area as she spoke. This entire thing was planned because Winnie said she was going to be in town so hopefully she wouldn’t cancel last minute.. Not that they’d mind if she did, their daughter was an especially important woman in her work world. 

“She said she wouldn’t miss it for the world, doll.. I made her promise that much..” Their first daughter with eyes and drive both from her father. Winnie was, by far, the one that gave her parents the most trouble but in the most unconventional ways. Her younger brother, Grant, was much more of a handful when they were all growing up. 

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Barnes, his pneumonia doesn’t seem to be getting any better,” The doctor had a somber look on his face as he got up from little Grant’s bedside. “The medicine can only do so much.. And the cold climate isn’t helping his situation anymore..” 

Y/N was clutching the collar of her shirt as she listened to the doctor, taking her bottom lip between her teeth at his mention of the weather. “Are you suggesting that we move, doctor? Pick up our entire life from Brooklyn and go somewhere warmer?”

The doctor lets out a long sigh at Y/N’s question before shrugging, “At this point? With the severity of his condition? I really do think that it’d help a lot more with the medicines..” And with that, the doctor left, leaving a heartbroken Y/N thinking about the family having to leave their entire livelihood in Brooklyn for another life somewhere else. 

“Ma?” A quiet Grant spoke from bed, “We don’t hafta move, ma.. I can handle this.” 

Y/N lets out a quiet, breathy laugh at his words before nodding her head, “I bet you can, baby boy.. I’ll talk to your dad. How does that sound?” She rests a hand over the swell of her belly where another child rested before moving to her son’s bedside. “You’re such a strong boy.. I’m so proud of you..” And he was exactly like his namesake, it seemed. 

When Bucky came home that night, he wasn’t expecting Y/N to say what she did.. And it broke his heart.. Y/N being pregnant, Winnie being in third grade, and Grant so ill made the circumstances so much more difficult. But they could lose their son and they sure as hell were not going to risk him for their personal comfort and life. 

A few months later, the Barnes’ said goodbye to Brooklyn and hopped on a plane to San Diego, California. It was an up and coming city with nice weather and good people from the sound of it. Y/N had sold her flower shop in Brooklyn and started a new one up in their new city. Grant got better with time and the warmer air. Winnie made new friends quite quickly in her new school. And eventually, Y/N and Bucky welcomed their third child only 4 months after settling down in their new home. 

“Can you believe Grant is 25 now.. And bringing his girlfriend with him tonight..” That was Bucky speaking again, tugging the blanket further up over his and his wife’s body. California had been an adjustment they had to make.. But Bucky had grown to enjoy it quite a bit. He did miss Brooklyn at times but it was fine.. They were fine and their kids turned out just fine. And Grant was all grown up and okay. A true man, in Bucky’s eyes, especially because he couldn’t be more like his mother. Everyone was a lover in both of their eyes and optimism was of utmost importance. 

“Mhm.. And Winnie being pregnant yet travelling so much.. Something else..” Y/N laughs a little as she speaks. It was in moments like this that she felt especially old. Their kids were all grown up and doing their own thing.. And Y/N and Bucky were there, laying in bed, just fine and surviving. 

Surviving used to be a trial in itself. Especially when Bucky was serving during World War II. Y/N nearly shuddered at the thought, pressing closer to Bucky. 

“What is it, hm?” Bucky had a concerned look on his face at Y/N’s sudden actions, looking down at her with a curious gaze, “You alright?”

Y/N nods at his question, offering a weak smile reassuringly, “It’s crazy to think I nearly lost you at one point is all.. I dunno what I’d have done if I did..” 

Bucky lets out a quiet sigh at Y/N’s words and his gaze trails off to one of the walls of their room. “You didn’t though, and that’s all that matters..” 

1945 was by far the most difficult year Y/N had ever gone through. Bucky had received his papers towards the end of 1942, right after Winnifred Barnes was welcomed into the world. And 1943 was when he left his new daughter and wife of now 3 years. He could only come back twice in his time gone, both only for a couple of weeks which he spent with his family before he’d have to go back. The second time, he left his wife pregnant. One of his biggest regrets will always be that he missed Grant’s birth. The namesake came forth as Y/N’s only reassurance of Steve being there with her husband in Europe. 

Steve and Bucky had kept the capture in between them for the most part. Y/N knew bits and pieces of Azzano. Mainly that it was a difficult battle to win and that it was Steve’s debut as Captain America. She also knew that Bucky went through a lot but she was never told what. Bucky hated having her worry so he figured it’d just be best to avoid the situation. 

One thing Bucky knew for sure was that he would not let the horrors of war come to Y/N. Her eyes were too bright and her soul too warm to be tainted by the darkness of the wars. She saw hope in everyone.. But Bucky knew the truth of what he sees and what his fellow soldiers have been through… And he knows what that knowledge would do to his beloved wife.. So he keeps it away the best he can. 

He couldn’t keep it away, however, when the train accident occurred. 

Y/N had nearly lost her husband. There he was, hanging for his dear life from the side of a moving train when Steve managed to grab him and pull him to safety. However in the commotion, the jagged metal of the train got caught in Bucky’s shoulder. Attempting to get the metal off of him made the injury all the worse and it was a miracle that Bucky survived all the blood loss and managed to stay alive through all of the surgeries. 

Y/N got a call 2 weeks afterwards.. She had begun to get antsy as she hadn’t received Bucky’s weekly letter in two weeks.. Something wasn’t right, she knew it.. But no one would tell her anything. 

The woman had just gotten a toddler Winnifred and baby Grant to bed when the phone rang. She quickly picked it up in fear of waking the kids up and reversing all of her hard work, “Hello?”

“... Y/N?” Steve was speaking from the other line. It sounded like he hadn’t slept in days. 

“Stevie? What.. What happened? Is Bucky okay?”

“Y/N you’re going to want to sit down for this..” 

The work earlier in not wanting to wake up the children was in vain. Y/N’s shrieks at the news woke them up anyways. 

After that, Y/N got her mother to watch the kids for the week and Stark flew the plane himself to get Y/N from a covert military base. She was the wife of a Howling Commando, after all, and was to be treated with nothing but respect. 

Y/N was scared to see Bucky. The surgery had gone fine but he no longer had his left arm. She just.. God, it was terrifying to think that the man she loves the most had gone through this much pain and that she couldn’t do anything about it. 

The woman took a seat beside Bucky’s hospital bed and took his right hand gently, pressing a kiss to the back of it. Her husband was asleep, safe from the horrors of war to her knowledge.. And he seemed peaceful, like the Bucky she’d met nearly 10 years ago. 

It made Y/N cry quietly. What had war done to her love?

“You said you aren’t leaving till it’s our time.. And it isn’t our time.. I’m not quitting and you can’t either, Bucky.. You can’t leave me, Winnie, and Grant by ourselves. We need you. And I wouldn’t be able to survive without you..” Y/N presses another kiss to the back of his hand, pushing his almost shaggy hair back gently on his forehead. “I know you’re sleeping.. But I promise.. I’m not ever leaving your side.. As long as I can hold your hand, I’m not leaving you.” 

Y/N had to nudge Bucky a little to bring him out of the trance he’d fallen into thinking about war. He’d gotten discharged after the accident and spent time back at home getting himself together. Once the war was over, Stark helped Bucky’s arm situation out by fashioning a state of the art prosthetic for him. It wasn’t enough for Bucky as it wasn’t his arm. But he made due with it and would often go in to get things refitted and reworked. 

Bucky blinked a couple of times, clenching and unclenching his metal hand before looking back to Y/N and offering a weak smile, “I’m glad you never left me after the accident. Don’t know what I would’ve done.” 

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N sits up and runs a hand through her own hair before stretching out, “How could I? I love you too much.” The woman flashes a fond smile to her husband before moving to get out of bed, “Come on, the kids are all gonna be here soon.. We best get everything ready.” 

And so Y/N and Bucky worked in tandem getting everything together for their kids’ arrival. Lucy was the first to arrive, a taxi from the bus station bringing her right back home from her studies at UCLA. At the age of 19, she was on her way in the world of biology. Everyone knew she was going to make it big. 

Grant came home afterwards, his girlfriend by the name of Jane, on his arm. He was excited that his girl got to meet the entire family now. 

After Grant came Junior.. His name was James but the nickname was quickly taken up as Bucky’s full name oftentimes made him cringe. He was still in school, studying business as his working at his mother’s flower shop since a young age put him in a world he didn’t want to leave. 

And lastly, but most certainly not least, came Winnifred. Her belly was swollen and her husband was on her arm. Y/N was absolutely delighted that she was to be a grandmother soon. 

Dinner passed and all the Barnes siblings had filed to the expansive backyard. Junior was talking with Winnifred’s husband, Grant was handling the dishes with his girlfriend, and Lucy was talking with Winnifred about her plans for the baby. 

Y/N and Bucky watched from where they were sitting, fond smiles on their face. 

“Hey, Bucky?” Y/N spoke gently, her eyes slowly drifting to her husband. 

Bucky looks to her, his smile brightening just a little, “Yeah, doll?”

She takes his metal hand, her finger running over the gold band that’d been smelted onto his left finger before squeezing his hand gently, “We did good..” 

The man lets his gaze drift off to his children again, and the people they’d chosen for their lives like Bucky had done for his. Eventually, he nods a little, squeezing his wife’s hand right back. “Yeah, doll.. We did.”

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[moved-builtintripping]

Setleth AU: Weathering With You

CONTAINS SPOILERS, MENTIONED MATURE THEMES, AND A LONG READ!!

(While I’ll be assigning both Byleths in my preferred roles for them here, feel free to switch Beleth and Beles if it’s your cup of tea!!)

F!Byleth as Hodaka. 15 yrs. A highschool runaway from a rain-kissed island town who desperately seeks the shy sunlight in the city. Her life will forever change when she realizes that somebody dear to her is worth so much more than the hiding blue sky.

Seteth as Hina. ‘19’/16 yrs. His strict expression doesn’t best describe his identity as a sunshine boy. Values Flayn above all else until a certain somebody enters into (and saves) his life. Used to only clear the sky whenever his little sister excitedly asks for it.

Flayn as Nagi. 10 yrs. Lives alone with only her big brother. She seems to gain a sort of situation where most boys in her school would swoon over her charm, which she is unaware of (yet Seteth knows nothing about this). Becomes instant best friends with Byleth.

Jeralt as Suga-san/Keisuke. ?? yrs. Head of the J&A ‘news’ site (that will eventually grow into its own company). Compares Byleth (whom he hired) to his own child, who’s taken away from him by his mother-in-law. Still loves his dead wife dearly.

Leonie as Natsumi. 25 yrs. (post-timeskip design) Jeralt’s trusted and loyal apprentice and (surprisingly) niece. She’s currently job hunting, but her impatience is one factor why luck hadn’t been so kind to her. Would probably make an excellent speed cop.

M!Byleth as Moka. Jeralt’s son, who shares the same name and almost the exact same look as the girl his father hired. Despite the many phone calls they’ve shared, he still misses his father very much and wishes to see him everyday.

Cyril as Ame/Rain. A stray brown kitten who stares with his red eyes and bears a scar by the left side of his forehead. Adopted and cared by Byleth and eventually spoiled rotten by Jeralt.

Solon as Yasui. (Tomas looks) An aged and experienced police officer, who’s tasked to look for the missing highschooler and wielder of a lost gun around the flooding Tokyo.

Thales as Takai. A younger police officer who’s assigned to assist Yasui on their shared mission. Manages to get ahold of Byleth, but his grip on her had slipped more times than he hoped.

Kronya as the Dude who’s offering Hina the strip club job. (idk his name, rip) Harasses Seteth into offering him a job, a naughty one. Is stopped by Byleth and the warning shot she was threatened by her face.

Detail Changes!!

Not everything in the movie will be covered as I haven’t thought up some changes yet, especially the part when Keisuke’s child, Moka, was shown the first time and they all were just bonding. This should still be a lot already! Hopefully I can add some more and fix this eventually~

Byleth’s Yahoo!Answer username was ‘TheAshenDemon’

During her first days in Tokyo, she was silent the whole time, not even uttering a single word since she could just nod, shake her head, and bow, not even when Jeralt saved her from the crashing rainfall nearly slipping her away from the boat.

Jeralt thought he saw his own son in grave danger, so he jumped to action. He didn’t realized how panicked he must have looked until a blue-haired quiet girl (almost) blankly stared up at him. He tried to brush it off with a shrug, but he swore his heart was beating fast.

She pointed to Jeralt the beer vending machine, which she plans to give him one as an exchange for sparing her from death. Jeralt politely declines, yet she insists only to realize the price to be much higher than her budget. She bought one anyway. “I told you you didn’t have to, kid...” “*bows and sweat drops*”

During her stay around the city, Byleth had been hearing news about a killer who leaves their bloodied victims lying in alleyways, always sprouting knife wounds around different part of their body, plus they’re dismembered. Byleth didn’t know she would eventually encounter the said-killer herself.

The lost kitten Byleth found by the alleyway stared up at her, but not meowing. He hissed when she offered him some candies, but eventually he ate it gratefully. This was the first time a smile bloomed on Byleth’s face since arriving.

When she woke up from her unintentional slumber, Kronya (plus two more grinning men lingering by her side) were staring down at her. “What’re ya doing here, girlie? This is no place for a street rat like you, so I suggest ya scram… Unless you want to join the fun with me and the boys. *winks and licks lips*” “*fuCKIN SCRAMBLES UP AND RUN*”

When Seteth laid down the burger, Byleth was so shocked she stared with large eyes up at the strange kind worker above her for a long time. “… Stop staring at me. It’s going to get cold if you don’t eat that soon, and my money would go to waste.” “… *blinks*” “… Just… Eat it.*walks out*”

Byleth still hadn’t said anything, but she cried for the first time for not only satisfying her empty tummy after so long, but for also kindness to miraculously come her way in this cruel city.

During the bus ride to Jeralt’s place, she silently pitied Flayn several seats behind who’s obviously oblivious from the two young boys’ mission to capture her heart.

The moment Leonie wakes up, she thought Byleth to be a theif. As she shouted threats at the intruder (and shrieked at her for staring at her chest), Byleth nervously held up the business card Jeralt gave her.

When Leonie confirmed that Jeralt indeed invited the kid over, she quickly welcomed her with open arms as if she never shouted exactly a moment before. She introduced their home as the ‘holy sanctuary of the proud journalists’.

Leonie was clearly passionate as a J&A journalist, possibly much more than the head himself, to the point that she would insist on Byleth to read every single article they had ever written. “Alright, kiddo! What article was written on June 15, 2021??” “*shakes head in resignation with a tired look*” “SILLLY! It’s the first one you helped me out with!! The title is ‘The Magical Wonder of a Sunshine Girl’, which discusses about the blablabla--” “*cries inwardly*”

The second time Byleth sees Seteth, he was gripping his umbrella hard as he tried to quickly walk away from Kronya, who was following, cat-calling, and basically harassing him. Eventually she slyly offers him to ‘work’ with her with a promised high pay, which made Seteth abruptly halt on his tracks.

Byleth rescues Seteth from Kronya by pretending to be his girlfriend (Funnily enough, “HONEY~!” was her first ever word on Tokyo and also a foreshadowing of their future relationship). She then attempted to drag a spluttering Seteth away as she cooed, “Come on, sweetie~ We can’t miss the big day!” “B-b-b-but- I thought you’re mute-” “I said *grips Seteth’s arm too tight* Come. On.”

Infuriated for taking away her potential partner, Kronya whipped out a knife and charged at the two. Seteth instinctively grabbed Byleth’s hand and together, they ran.

They eventually reach a dead end, which Kronya took advantage of by literally jumping over the two, then pinning Byleth down. “Move a muscle and I’m going to cut your girlfriends’ throat.” “SH-SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND! AND LET GO OF HER!”

Byleth struggled to reverse their position and had been successful. She pointed the gun on Kronya and, as the rain poured, blasted a warning shot by her left ear.

When Seteth snapped out of reality, he grabbed Byleth up who was about to shoot Kronya’s forehead (whose left ear was slowly bleeding). “GET UP! GET UP! LET’S GET OUT OF HERE! WE HAVE A DATE, REMEMBER!?”

Once they retreated to the abandoned building, they argued. “Did you really think you should just- just interfere just like that!? You have a gun, for god’s sake! We’ll get in serious trouble for that, or worse go to jail!” “You ungrateful- I just saved your damn life like you saved mine-” “Plus sh-she’s a woman! We shouldn’t have been too harsh with her-”“Look, you can be a prostitute for all I care, but that woman was harassing you and that’s just wrong!” “You listen here very well: I am a grown man, and I make my own decisions!” “Yeah!? Decisions to get yourself killed by that murderer! Can’t you see she’s the recently wanted person who had been killing off men in the alleyways!?” “I…! You…! *growls and shoves towel at Byleth* *stomps away*”

Believing it to be useful, Byleth was about to pick up the gun she previously threw out of frustration, but Seteth’s voice interrupted her. “I thought about what you said, and you’re right. I’m sorry. What can I give you in return?” “Er… Your… Apology, I guess?” “That’s already given! I meant something else, more than that!” “... Hmm…”

Byleth spaced out. She couldn’t really think of anything she wanted other than... “I’d like for the sun to stick around, but *chuckles dryly* I know you can’t just magically clear the sky…” “… Actually…”

Byleth silently (and comically) screamed when Seteth prayed to draw the curtains of the clouds and make way for the blue sky and the sun to smile down on them.

This is the first time Seteth clears the sky for somebody else other than for his little sister, so he smiled. There, they shared each other’s names and age.

While trying to appear mature, Seteth awkwardly rambles about how he was old enough to make his own decisions and do adult things, basically justifying his consideration on Kronya’s offer.

“Seteth, that’s... That’s nothing to be ashamed of. There must somebody you want to protect. That’s why you’d go to lengths to commit acts like that.” “… How did you know??” “*shrugs*”

Ever since meeting Seteth, Byleth began to speak much more frequently than before, but was still overall silent. She only says more whenever she’s around her new friend.

Seteth cooked a seafood dish for his guest when Byleth visited to discuss about their new business. As Byleth observed around the house, she saw lots of cute objects such as the colored fish-shaped glass curtain. She assumed Seteth’s little sister had wanted it.

When Flayn arrived home, she beamed that finally, her big brother had made a friend! Meanwhile Byleth recognized her as the oblivious girl who had a lot of boys to answer to, so she awkwardly greeted Flayn back, who was shaking her hand too rapidly.

Flayn had been more than willing to wear the teru teru bozu mascot. Although Seteth secretly thought it looked adorable, he simply didn’t approve of it.

After their first successful job, Flayn in her mascot told Seteth, “Onii-sama, won’t you lighten up?? You’ve finally cleared the sky for all the people! Isn’t that amazing???” “F-Finally? Flayn, how could you just forget the joy of just the two of us sharing our secret…” “Stupid brother! You’re the sunshine boy here, and sunshine boys should smile just like the sun! Look at Byleth-nee! She would make the perfect sunshine girl had she got your magic instead!!”

“Byleth?” Seteth wondered out loud and looked at the said-girl a few strides ahead of them, who was grinning ear-to-ear as she admired the sun. He tried to observe her enthusiasm like Flayn suggested. He ended up mindlessly gazing at the girl even when Flayn was already demanding for his attention.

When Byleth found out that Seteth enjoys writing, she suggested him to try working for J&A to earn extra cash. “Hm… I suppose I can give it a chance... Yes, this will make a great opportunity indeed.”

When Seteth visited Byleth’s place and found out that their intention and business were all a fraud, he backed out. “This is scam! I cannot feature my literary works in a shady manner such as this!” “WHAT THE FUCK!? YOU’LL CONSIDER PROSTITUTION, BUT YOU WON’T DO THIS!?!?!?” “…Uh. Language...”

During the firework festival, while Byleth hadn’t bother to fix her hair, Seteth smoothed his as well as tied a tiny pony. He almost frowned at her messy hair the first time he saw her, but held back when he saw the businessman standing beside her (i mean can u just imagine the beauty of him wearing a kimono while byleth in a formal suit omg im crying kjasdhjkhas--)

“Mr. Jeralt.” “Yeah, kid?” “If I am to give you a present, what will you ask for?” “Hmm.... Let’s be perfectly honestly: a good ‘ol beer is all I needed to remedy my past sins... Unless you can bring my wife from the dead, then *smiles sadly* I’d appreciate that.”

When someone on Yahoo!Answer suggested (jokingly) to gift Seteth a ring for his birthday, Byleth turned to Flayn for advice instead as they began walking home together while the love-strucked boys waved her good-bye. “Well, Mother told me that you shouldn’t limit your choices of gift just because your friend was born with the body they have. For example, even when society isn’t entirely ready to accept it, there are men who enjoy wearing dresses!” “.... OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH, SENPAIIIIII”

The next day, Byleth spent the entire day checking on every corner of the nearest mall to find the perfect ring, only to return empty-handed, exhausted, and bummed out. When an oblivious and excited Leonie shoved one of their old magazine copies (back when they could still afford printing their issues) on Byleth, she retreated to her room for the older girl to leave her alone.

Still tired, she flipped one of the pages and saw an article about a ring that can boost the wearer’s creativity and motivation to write many promising stories with the help of jewel’s powers. (aka, the ring in canon) Amused but resigned, Byleth shrugged and decided.

Byleth spent a much longer time looking for the tiny shop, which only had one branch, than looking for ring in the said-shop itself.

Meanwhile, police officers Solon and Thales had captured Kronya. Both are interrogating the criminal for what exactly happened when the missing girl, the one both officials were looking for, threatened to shoot Kronya.

Leonie nearly punched Byleth for accidentally staring at her chest again as the she struggled to sink in the information that Jeralt and Leonie are related and absolutely not 'lovers’.

Byleth lend her jacket (aka, her cloak in canon) to Seteth when he was nearly whisked away by the wind.

When the police were questioning the runaway kids, Seteth tried to ward them off with a slight glare all the while remaining polite. “Our family will continue to worry if we remain longer in the rain, so if you will please let us carry on...”

“Happy Birthday, Seteth!” “*inwardly: OH MY GOD IT’S A RING IT’S A RING HOLY SHIT DOES SHE ACTUALLY WANNA-- NO NON ON  THAT CANNOT BE IT, THIS IS TOO SOON-*” “This ring is supposed to help you write good, boosts your creativity and all. Not that I believe it, nor care, but I hope you like it~” “.........................................................Oh.”

“I... *clears throat* Th-thank you. I-I appreciate it.” “What’s with that stupid look though? Did you really think it was a proposal? Seriously, no way. I doubt it... *lies down, stares at ceiling, blushes* Unless you wanna...” “W-W-WHAT!? NONSENSE!! AND EVEN IF IT IS, YOU AND I BOTH KNOW VERY WELL THAT WE ARE TOO YOUNG FOR- FOR THAT!!” “You don’t say, you old geezer ;)”

“But Byleth... What are you doing? Oh no. No, this cannot be. I was even fully prepared... But if you were to part me with a gift, I’m going to leave with regrets...” “Regrets? Leave? What’re you talking about?” “Don’t you understand!? Back when we were walking our way home and you saw my skin? Don’t you see- *shuffles for robe*” “OH MY GOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU PERVERT!?” “*reveals chest, skin magically distorted* I’M DYING!” “...Huh?”

Like her first days in Tokyo, Byleth didn’t speak the entire time when she and Flayn were caught and escorted to the police car. When Thales mentioned Seteth’s real age to Byleth (16), Byleth shouted, “SIXTEEN!?” much to the police’s shock since they thought the girl was mute or refused to ever speak.

“*inwardly: ... Seteth, you damn liar.*”

Flayn’s borrowed disguise from her male friends was a cap, hoodie and baggy pants. “Flayn, I thought he was your ex! What’s he doing here stealing you away from me?” “Ex? Stealing? Whatever do you mean; I thought you two are wonderful friends! And please hurry up!”

“I’D MAKE AN EXCELLENT SPEED COP!!” “... No, you won’t.” “I HEARD THAT!!”

Jeralt always compared Byleth to his own son due to how dangerously similar they looked and acted. He tried not to see her as a sort of child to him since the girl was not his son at all. However, Jeralt does end up acting like a father-figure to her, especially when he saw Thales pin her down as she repeatedly and desperately shouted her loved one’s name. Who knew that quiet kid had it in her to fall in love, just like Jeralt himself?

As Flayn ran towards Solon to pin him down, her cap flew away and her hood fell to reveal her long green hair. “It’s not your fault, Byleth-nee... Neither of us has foreseen this... But I will always trust you no matter what... SO PLEASE! BRING MY DEAR BROTHER BACK!!”

While Seteth did jump to reach for Byleth out of instinct (and love, coughcough), he tried to pry away from her as they fell no matter how much she desperately confesses her love for him. “The people would no longer have sunshine! Isn’t that what everybody wants, you included!? It’s why we even made that business! It’s best I leave this world for all of your sake!!”

In her fury, Byleth reached out to Seteth with more effort than ever all the while muttering, “Come here- Come here you stupid old geezer--” When they finally held hands, she slapped him hard.

“DON’T YOU GET IT, YOU DUMB IDIOT!? FLAYN AND I DID NOT GOT ARRESTED, NARROWLY ESCAPED, HAD TO BE RESCUED BY LEONIE, RAN ALL THE WAY TO THAT BLASTED BUILDING, ALMOST STOPPED BY JERALT, AND NEARLY GOT SHOT BY FOUR DAMN PEOPLE TO RESCUE YOU FOR NOTHING! SETETH, I LOVE YOU!”

“*giggles* You look gross when you cry.” “Shut it, Byleth. Seriously, at a time like this... Let’s... Let’s just go home.” “Yeah...”

When Byleth returned to Tokyo, she had her hair dyed into light green since she felt like it (and reminded her of someone dear to her).

Jeralt happily showed Byleth the photo of Flayn (who barely grew an inch), his son Byleth (who’s almost reaching Flayn’s height), and Leonie, (wearing a cop’s uniform imean they should have seriously made natsumi a speed cop too, jeezus).

When she and Seteth reunited, his first words to her (other than, “Byleth!”) were, “Your hair...” “*grins* I know what you’re thinking, it doesn’t suit me.” “No, not at all. *touches Byleth’s hair with the hand wearing the ring* You look beautiful.” “*tries to pout, but melts into a winder grin* Not before?” “You always have been.”

Yay, it’s done!! I’ve had this AU for a long time now actually, but only got to post it now that the movie’s out on the west!! Now watch me ignore this shit for the next years, rip

Again, every detail in the movie isn’t covered here since I haven’t seen their potential setleth au differences yet, but the overall plot remains the same! Note that I haven’t actually finished the other routes yet other than the beagle one, so there might be a lotta ooc stuff here. Maybe when I’m done with them all, ima get back to this and fix it and add some more.

As you can see, I made their dynamic more on the teasing side unlike hodaka&hina’s, mainly because i interpret byleth to be playfully sly and ofc seteth’s distrust on her on the start of the game. I personally enjoyed them to be a bickering old couple, so they’re like that xD

Honestly, i’m torn in between assigning rhea as either the two green peas’ mother or jeralt’s mother-in-law. the former for obvious reasons, the latter since rhea sorts of ‘hides’ away the little kid from jeralt like in canon, but for another reason.

As for the taki and mitsuha cameo, I feel like that would be a completely different thing, so I didn’t include them here. But for sometime now, I’ve been imagining them as ferdinand & dorothea, manuela being their okudera. but this au isn’t house biased (leonie’s there cause of jeralt), so i didn’t include them.

Huge thanks to my sister for helping me shape this au!! Actually half of these ideas belongs to her, even more perhaps. Hope I can link ya’ll to her accounts once she’s done fixing ‘em so ya’ll get see how much of a genius she is!! <3

I wanna make a manga/fanfic outta this one day, but for now, here’s the idea compilation of my setleth au nobody asked for!! Thank you for reading!! :D

#fire emblem three houses #weathering with you #setleth #au #weathering with you au #seteth #byleth #flayn #jeralt eisner #leonie pinelli #fire emblem #fe #fe3h #fe16 #ファイアーエムブレム #ファイアーエムブレム風花雪月 #tenki no ko #天気の子 #headcanons #my art

[antiquechampagne]

Absolute Zero - Chapter 3

Within a few days, Angela had a full chemistry bench set up and a mattress on the floor next to it. Fred moved into one of the unused closets off the main room, giving her a modicum of privacy; not that she needed it. All she needed was a place to sleep and a place to work, the rest was of no concern. The Mayor had tried to get her to start a tab at both the local bar and general store, but she declined. Scraps would suffice until her first payday, then she would live on whatever was cheapest. She would save every cap she could.

Immediately she got to work, cranking out the basics as fast as she could. One expense she knew she would need was a secure place to store her caps. By the end of the week, Angela picked out a heavy-duty toolbox. The best part about it was the fact that it had a working lock and it came with two keys, making it a perfect drop box.

Late one night, she went for a walk. Along the way, she stopped to check the laces on her shoe… auspiciously right next to where Chuck was taking a smoke break. With so few people on the street, she was pretty sure no one would notice the key wrapped in a piece of paper she left behind. She also hoped the instructions were clear… that the money had could only be picked up when no one was around to avoid any unwanted attention. She reminded the raiders that she was also keeping careful notes on everything to discourage skimming off the top… not that she expected them to care. There was only so much she could control; she didn’t have the time to worry about the rest. Sure enough, when she came back from dropping off a crate full of Med-X, her caps were gone but the box was still locked tight.

The next day, Angela was elbow deep in cooking up a large batch of Ultra Jet. A woman entered the basement while she was trying to seal a particularly tricky propellant canister.

“Heeeey friend! You’re back!” Fred got up from his seat. “How was HalluciGen? Find me something good?”

The woman dug a handful of strange canisters out of her pack. “I think I’ve found a drug that even you’d think twice about huffing,” she snarked. Money exchanged hands

Angela glanced over. The woman was tall with skin that almost glowed, but her defining characteristic was her near pristine vault suit under her cobbled together armor. Angela had never seen a vault dweller before, the was only one vault near her home and it had been destroyed long before she was born.

“That so? Far out. Can’t wait to start breaking this down in the lab. I got a ton of time on my hands with this new gal helping out. She’s a maniac when it comes to cooking all sorts of goodies!”

The vault dweller turned to Angela just as she felt the persnickety canister pop into place. She put the finished chem down as the woman held out her hand.

“Nice to meet you. The names Nora. I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Angela,” The woman’s handshake was strong. “I’m pretty new here.” Angela turned back to her bench. “Sorry, but I have a lot of work to do. I hope you understand.”

“Yeah, I know how it is.”

Fred and Nora chatted for a few minutes before the woman turned to leave.

“Hey… Angela was it? You need to get yourself some decent PPE. Give me sec.” Nora immediately began poking around in her enormous backpack.

“What?” Angela was a bit flustered. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t really have any spare caps at the moment.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Nora pulled out a long white lab coat and a pair of safety goggles. “Here, try these. I’ve got tons. Hallucigen was lousy with ‘em.”

“No, thank you.” People just didn’t give away what they scavenged. There had to be a catch, and Angela didn’t need any more strings attached to her.

“What the heck am I going to do with a dozen pairs of goggles with matching lab coats? At the very least, take the goggles. Your eyes are pretty badly bloodshot already.”

Angela hesitated. Yeah, her eyes stung pretty badly from the fumes, but that’s just the way things were.

“It’s okay, pal. Nora here… she has a heart of gold. Haven’t you been listening to the radio or heard the talk around town? She’s an honest to god hero around these parts!” Fred put a friend arm around the vault dweller’s shoulders as she turned a little red from all the praise.

“Don’t go blowing things out of proportion, Fred. I’m just helping out where I can.”

Angela studied the pair. Fred had been fair with her, sincerely trying to be nice to her when he was around. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who would lie about this kind of thing.

“I suppose, if you are just giving them away.” As Angela tried on the goggles, Nora left the lab coat on the bench. Before she could react, Nora waved a quick goodbye and was gone. Angela looked at the coat and blinked.

“It’s bad mojo to refuse a gift, ya know.” Fred nudged her gently with his elbow.

Angela mused. “I suppose you’re right.” She’d only ever had one ratty lab coat she had scavenged years ago. It had only lasted her a year or so before it deteriorated so badly it offered next to no protection from spills. This coat was nearly spotless, save for a few spots on a cuff, and it was made from a thick canvas-like material that would last a decade or more, even with heavy use. And this random woman had simply given it away… to be nice to a stranger?

What a nice change of pace, thought Angela. Maybe my luck is starting to change?

Putting on the coat, she got back to work. Those caps weren’t going to earn themselves.

After a long day, Angela hung up her lab coat and sat on the mattress. She stared at it for a moment before grabbing her binder. She could feel the lump in her throat grow as she turned the dogeared pages. She stopped occasionally at little stick figure drawings or groups of roughly sketched flowers, her fingers lingering over the childish scribbles in the margins. Finally, she came to the back cover. Stuffed into the pocket she carefully removed a square black and white photograph stashed inside.

Angela turned away from the room, unable to stop the silent tears streaming down her face. The picture held three smiling faces. One belonged to a burly man in his prime, his skin darker from a full season working in the fields. The other faces that beamed back from the thick card stock was that of two jovial children. The trio stood in front of a pile of bloody molerats, the spoils of the girls first hunting trip. It was an old photo, one of a handful Angela ever got the chance to take before the ancient camera gave up the ghost.

“Keep them safe, Ben. I’m working as fast as I can.” She whispered to the picture. She knew they couldn’t hear her, but wished by some twist of fate they could.

#absolute zero #fallout #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfic #Fred Allen #goodneighbor #drugs #nora #sole survivor #ao3

[oingos-bitch]

Another JoJo Mall Fanfic™ -- Welcome to Bath & Body Works (Part 1)

Beware of Part 5 & Part 2 spoilers!

This  couldn't  get  any  more  awkward.  

Half  an  hour  into  the  mall's  grand  opening  and  there  hadn't  been  a  single  soul  that  so  much  as  wandered  into  the  shop  by  accident;  from  the  way  that  Mr.  Jonathan  had  described  it,  they  had  anticipated  a  flood  of  people.  Yet  here  they  all  were,  each  subconsciously  claiming  a  corner  to  stand  in,  hoping  that  at  least  someone,  anyone  would  care  to  break  the  heavy  silence.  Ten  more  minutes  passed  and  their  prayers  still  had  yet  to  be  answered.

Caesar  got  to  work  wiping  an  imaginary  stain  on  the  counter,  Lisa  Lisa  soon  jumping  on  the  bandwagon  and  dusting  the  displays,  Trish  and  Giorno  mindlessly  arranging  the  candles  by  scent,  then  by  colour.  They  were  two  hours  into  the  day  when  they  finally  heard  a  pair  of  heels  clicking  across  the  floor  and  through  the  door.  Everyone's  head  whipped  around  to  greet  the  customer.

"Welcome  to  Bath  and  Body  Works!  How  may  I  help  you?"

Suzi  Q.  staggered  backwards.  "Wow,  I  didn't  expect  such  a  warm  welcome!  Thank  you!"

Lisa  Lisa  groaned  inwardly  at  the  sight  of  her.  Trish  walked  towards  her.  "So,  what  may  we  help  you  with  today,  ma'am?"  

Lisa  Lisa  looked  away  so  as  not  to  witness  her  crew's  reactions  to  her  reply.

"Oh,  I'm  not  a  customer,  I'm  gonna  be  working  with  you  guys!"

Trish's  jaw  dropped.  "S-So  you're  not  a  customer?"  She  repeated.

"Afraid  not,  dear.  I'm  sorry  for  arriving  so  late,  I  got  lost  on  the  way!  I  hope there  wasn't  too  much  trouble  while  I  was  gone!"  

Caesar  was  the  first  to  laugh.  Trish  was  the  first  to  sob.

'You  have no  idea.'

Suzi  just  knelt  down  to  comfort  Trish  when  Lisa  told  her  to  ignore  it  and  get  ready;  while  the  former  maid  was  busying  herself  with  putting  on  her  smock,  they  once  again  noticed  the  sound  of  shoes.

"Let  me  guess,  you're  supposed  to  work  here?"  Caesar  grumbled.

"Uhhh....No?"  

He  snapped  his  head  up  at  breakneck  speed  to  see  a  bewildered  lady  clutching  a  few  handbags.  He  couldn't  believe  his  eyes.  They  had  a  customer?  They  had  a  customer!  After  two  painstakingly  long  and  boring  hours,  they  finally  had  a  customer!  He  had  to  choke  back  a  relieved  chortle,  forming  his  leftover  grin  into  a  kind  smile.

"Ah,  excuse  me  miss,  I  did  not  mean  to  say  that.  Now,  what  may  I  help  you  with  today,  signorina?"

Confusion  gone,  the  lady  lifted  a  scrap  of  paper  up  to  his  face.

"Uh,  Miss?  What  may  we  help  you  with?"

"Well,  you  can  read,  can't  ya?  I  have  a  coupon  for  30%  off  o'  Boardwalk  Taffy  Fine  Fragrance  Mist,  an'  I  want  exactly  three  o'  those."  

"..."

"Hel-loooo?~  Is  anyone  home?  Get  me  my  Boardwalk  Taffy  Fine  Fragrance  Mist."

Great. The  first  customer  of  the  day  just  had  to  be  one  of  these,  God  couldn't  let  them  have  a  break  for  just  one  second,  could  he?  Not  even  after..

Caesar  froze.  He  didn't  want  to  think  about  that  anymore.  This  was  supposed  to  be  a  new  chance  at  life,  not  more  torment --

He  straightened  up,  plastered  a  saccharine  smile  onto  his  face,  and  gingerly  took  the  coupon  from  the  woman's  hand.  

"Of  course,  sorry  about  that,  Ma'am.  I'll  go  get  that  for  you  right  away,  feel  free  to  shop  arou-"

"Ya  don't  have  to  tell  me  twice."  Her  shoulder  pushed  past  him  as  she  made  her  way  to  the  discounted  soaps.

Poor  Caesar  scrunched  the  paper  in  anger.  'You  barbarian  motherfucker.'

He  made  his  way  to  the  fragrance  table.  Meanwhile,  Trish  rearranged  the  candles  for  the  fourth  time, unaware.  Then  she  felt  a  tap  on  her  shoulder.

The  pink-haired  girl  turned  around.  "Yes,  Ma'am?  How  may  I  help-"

"Save  it,"  the  lady  held  up  a  manicured  hand,  "I  just  wanna  know  if  you  have  any  more  o'  these."  She  waved  a  soap  bottle  in  front  of  Trish's  face.

"Uh,  Miss,  could  you  please  hold  the  bottle  still?  I  can't  read  it  very  well."

"Read  it?  Shouldn't  ya  have  it  memorized?  Some  wonder  employees  they  have  here."  She  snorted.

Trish  wisely  chose  to  stay  quiet  and  read  what  she  could  before  excusing  herself  and  returning  with  a  similar  bottle.

"Here  you  are,  Miss."

The  woman  took  one  look  at  the  bottle,  scrunched  up  her  nose,  threw  her  streaked  hair  over  her  shoulder,  and  jutted  out  her  chin.

"Do  I  look  like  a  Japanese  Cherry  Blossom  kinda  gal?  I  clearly  wanted  Buh-lack  Cher-ry  Mer-lo-uh."  She  slowed  her  words.  "Japanese  Cherry  Blossom  is  for  little  girls  who  like  to  play  dress-up  and  pretend  they  know  a  lick  about  the  world  of  fashion  and  fragrance."

Her  thin  red  lips  curled  up  into  a  sour  simper.  "Kinda  like  something  you'd  wear."

Trish  opened  her  mouth  to  speak  when  the  customer  brutishly  pushed  the  bottle  into  her  hands.  "Here,  in  case  ya  need  a  reminder."

Trish  exchanged  a  glance  with  Lisa  Lisa  as  the  crass  woman  sauntered  off  to  another  display;  normally  they'd  say  something  about  this  sort  of  thing,  but  since  this  was  the  mall's  opening  and  she'd  most  likely  drop  a  really  bad  review,  they  decided  to  suck  it  up  and  spare  Mr.  Jonathan  any  heartache.  

'She's  headed  to  the  counter  now,  anyway.'

'WAIT,  THE  COUNTER.'

Trish  spun  her  head  around  to  she  who  was  managing  the  counter,  hopefully  it  wasn't  who  she  thinks  it  is --

And  what  do  you  know?  It  was.  Giorno  stood  listlessly  behind  the  register.  Anyone  of  them  could've  chosen  to  do  what  is  basically  the  most  exciting  job  right  now,  and  yet  no  one  except  Giorno  fricking  Giovanna  chose  to  do  so?!  Trish  winced  in  anticipation,  everyone  else  had  a  mutual  understanding  of  how  to  best  deal  with  today's  customer,  but  she  knew  for  a  fact  that  Giorno  wouldn't  be  so  merciful  with  her.

Thankfully  she  snapped  out  of  it  and  went  to  go  retrieve  the  soaps  from  the  stockroom  before  the  lady  opened  her  mouth  again.  Speaking  of  the  lady,  she  finally  stepped  up  to  the  register.  Oddly  enough,  she  didn't  treat  Giorno  with the  same  hostility  as  everyone  else,  oh  no.  In  fact,  she  was  outright  flirting  with  him.

"Hello  signorina,  I  trust  that  everything  was  to  your  satisfaction?"

"Well,  it  would  be  if  only  you  could  satisfy  me,"  she  winked.

Unfazed,  Giorno  began  to  scan  the  items  she  picked  out.  "Do  you  have  a  Loyalty  Rewards  account  with  us?"

"No,  but  if  I'm  loyal  to  you  would  you  give  me  a  reward?~"

He  nodded,  "Anyone  who  signs  up  for  the  Loyalty  Rewards  will  get  numerous  specials  and  coupons  sent  right  to  your  phone.  You  can  sign  up  today  for  free."

Blinded  by  his  beauty,  she  absentmindedly  drawled  out  her  e-mail  and  other  information,  all  the  while  sneaking  in  perverse  comments.  Trish  held  back  her  vomit  as  she  dropped  the  soaps  onto  the  table.

"Oh,  there's  the  soaps  I  was  waiting  on!  Fine-uh-lee.  Do  me  a  favour  and  ring  these  up  for  me,  baby  cheeks?~"

On  the  outside  Giorno  skrt  skrt,  but  on  the  inside  he  hurt  hurt.  He  now  joined  Trish  in  the  silent  ritual  of  spiritual  bonding  that  was  holding  back  the  hellish  torrent  of  vomit  they'd  spill  into  the  toilet  after  this  encounter.  

Words  cannot  describe  how  relieved  he  was  when  the  time  came  for  her  to  swipe  her  credit  card  and  pay.  Now  he'd  just  need  to  bag  up  her  stuff  and  send  her  on  her  way,  hopefully  never  to  be  seen  again.  

If  only  it  were  that  easy.

The  card  reader  made  a  small,  jarring  ERR,  startling  Giorno  out  of   his  daydream.  He  looked  at  his  screen,  'CARD DECLINED.'

"I'm  terribly  sorry,  but  your  card  seems  to  be  declined,  Madam."

"HUH?!  No  it  sure  as  hell  isn't,  lemme  see,"  she  craned  her  neck  to  read  the  computer  screen.  She  began  to  hastily  pull  a  myriad  of  receipts  and  whatnot  out  of  her  purse  to  find  her  phone.  

"It  can't  be,  I  swear  Bernard  just  got  paid  today..."  She  grumbled.  At  last,  she  victoriously  held  up  her  phone  and  punched  in  Bernard's  number.  

"Bernard...  HIIIIII, SUH-WEE-TIIIIIE!~  How  are  ya?  Uh  huh,  so  listen,  I'm  out  shopping  for  some  stuff.... Of  COURSE  I'm  having  fun,  thank  you  ba-byyy!  But,  there's  a  little  uh-oh,  my  card  got  declined  for  some  reason!  It's  not  your  fault,  I  know  you  just  got  paid..."

"....Whaddaya  mean  it's  gone??"  Her  face  slowly  morphed  from  shock  to  worry  to anger.

"I  TOLD  you  NOT  TO  USE  THE  COMPUTER  WITHOUT  ME.  I  know  you're  a  businessman  and  all,  but  se-ri-uhs-ly,  Bernard,  how  many  times  has  someone  stolen  from  your  account?  Do  you  know  how  EMBARRASSING  that  is  for  me??  Don't  ya  love  me?"

The  rest  of  the  crew  tried  their  best  to  look  away.  They  busied  themselves  with  patrolling  the  store,  hiding  in  the  stockroom,  anything,  all  of  them  choking  back  laughter  at  the  scene.  Meanwhile,  the  customer  raged  on,  further  damaging  Bernard's  nearly  deaf  ears.

She  solemnly  hung  up.  Turning  around,  she  calmly  glanced  at  Giorno  before  furiously  shoving  the  bag's  contents  onto  the  ground  along  with  a  slew  of  curses.  Of  course,  her  grand  debut  was  not  complete  without  her  kicking  a  few  displays,  huffing  on  her  way  out.

Lisa  Lisa  held  the  phone  in  her  hands  to  call  security,  only  for  Giorno  to  stop  her  and  gesture  to  the  register.  

The  declined  card  still  remained  in  the  card  reader,  and  Lisa  Lisa  watched  in  awe  as  he  transformed  the  plastic  to  a  small  butterfly.  A  familiar  face  appeared  not  long  after.

"Have..Have  any  of  ya  seen  my  card?!"

"No,  Miss,  I'm  afraid  we  haven't.  If  I  remember  correctly,  you  placed  it  into  your  wallet."

"Well... If  ya  say  so,  honey bun."

Once  she  was  out  of  earshot  the  whole  shop  erupted  in  laughter.  Caesar  was  the  first  to  crack,  and  soon  he  doubled  over  in  pain  from  laughing  so  hard,  Trish  following  along  with  tears  streaming  down  her  face.  After  a  solid  ten  minutes  of  ugly  cackling  they  tried  to  compose  themselves,  Caesar  having  to  sit  down  until  he  could  move  without  hurting.

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Lunchtime  rolled  around  without  a  hitch.  Caesar  waved  to  the  others,  "I'm  going  out  for  lunch,  anyone  want  anything?"

"Where  to?"

"Rainforest  Cafe."

Lisa  Lisa  snorted.  "Nice.  Can  you  get  me  the  Spicy  Stir-Fry,  please?"

"Okay.  Anyone  else?"

"What's  Rainforest  Cafe?"

Lisa  Lisa  stared  at  Trish  and  Giorno  with  wide  eyes.  "You've  never  had  it  before?  Why,  it's  one  of  the  only  places  that  even  resemble  gourmet  at  this  fast-food-filled  hellhole."

"But  there's  also  a  Dave  &  Buster's..."

The  Hamon  trainer  dismissed  them  with  a  wave.  "Go  on  now,  both  of  you,  and  don't  come  back  until  you're  educated  in  the  world  of  mall  cuisine."

"And  I  want  some  Daytona  Beach  Wings  from  Hooters,  please!"  Suzi  added  as  the  trio  headed  out.

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"The  Anaconda  Pasta  sounds  promising... I  suppose  I'll  have  that."  

"And  I'll  have  the  Aloha  Shrimp  and  Salmon,  please."

"And  the  Spicy  Stir-Fry  and  MoJo  Bones  for  me,  thank  you."

"Alright...Will  that  be  all?"

Caesar  nodded.  

"Okay,  your  orders  should  be  out  in  a  bit."

 Trish  eyed  the  waiter  as  he  walked  away.

"His  hat's  so  tall... What  weird  fashion..."

Giorno  looked  around  the  place  as  he  waited.  The  decor  was  cheesy,  as  he  expected,  but  the  menu  didn't  seem  all  that  bad.  The  waiters'  uniforms  could  use  a  bit  of  work,  and  maybe  start  regulating  haircuts?  That  short  guy  over  there  could  not  have  a  more  unflattering  hairdo.

'WAIT.'

Unfortunately  for  him,  he  locked  eyes  with  the  short  waiter,  whose  mouth  dropped  in  utter  shock.  Even  from  across  the  room,  Giorno  swore  he  could  hear  the  sharp  gasp  and  the  soft  thud  of  the  waiter's  pen  hitting  the  floor.  Said  waiter  drew  his  hand  up  to  point  at  the  blond  boy.

"Y-YOU!  YOU'RE  THE  ONE  WHO  STOLE  MY  LUGGAGE!"

#o shit i wrote something #Another Jojo Mall Fanfic #mall fanfic #mall au #stands exist #jjba fanfic #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizzare adventure battle tendency #vento aureo #koichi hirose #giorno giovanna #trish una #lisa lisa #caesar zeppeli #it pained me to write that lady's dialogue #spoilers #part 2 spoilers #part 5 spoilers

[lokibug]

Blinded

Pairing: Loki x Blind!Reader

Summary: Beauty and the Beast AU in which Loki is forced to stay in his Jotun form until another human loves him. He becomes a caretaker for You due to be recently permanently blind.

Warnings: Cursing, Guns, Mention of Blood, Angst

Song: On Our Own by Bruno Major

A/N: I apologize ahead of time guys, eek. But I feel all of you on Lucas being a douche, he is. That’s the Gaston facade for ya. Also I spend awhile looking for the chapter songs so if anyone listens to them lemme know haha okay, enjoy!

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7| Part 8| Part 9| Part 10

Three days had passed since Y/N and Loki had their enchanted evening. The two felt much more drawn to each other. Loki felt more intensely towards this beautiful young woman...he knew this because each day the hour glass ticked just as it had for the past few months. Despite time being his enemy, it also cursed him in a way he hadn’t already...he fell in love with y/n slowly each moment they spent together.

“Y/N?! Where are you? I woke up and you were no where to be seen.” Loki bellowed into the phone with y/n being on the other side of the line. He heard her chuckle and he slid his cold palm over his face in frustration. Leaning against the wall in the hallway he waited for her response.

“Calm down Loki, you were sleeping and I needed to get some things from the store. Stephanie wanted to talk to me so she took me. Look at you being all worried for me. It’s cute.” She responded. If Loki wasn’t a deep shade of blue, his cheeks would probably be the color of his eyes. He had never heard her tease him in such a way.

“I...nevermind. I get paid to make sure you’re not dead somewhere. I mean I like to think I’m doing a good job you know.” He continued to rant for a few more seconds until y/n stopped biting her knuckle to stop her from chuckling.

“...you done? Do you want anything from the store?”

“....those things from the other night...they were crunchy..” he said softly.

“The chips? The kettle chips?” “Whatever they are.”

“Okay. Well I’ll be home soon.” She said before hanging up. Loki looked at the phone and scoffed, “Madness.”

Meanwhile, Y/N stood in the chip isle of the market alongside Stephanie. Her light brown hair was pulled up into a pony tail as her clear rimmed glasses rested on her face. Y/N dressed warmly today, an off shoulder black long sleeve with dark blue jeans and white converse.

“Was that Loki?” Stephanie asked putting a bag into the basket. Y/N nodded in response and chuckled. “Hmmm...y/n have you ever considered the possibility of...Loki possibly being into you?” Stephanie could see the whole thing unfolding in front of her. Not that her friend’s sight loss was to blame but she didn’t catch these hints very well.

She furrowed her eyebrows, “No,” she scoffed, “he argues with me over everything. He’s so prideful.”

“I know the difference between flirty banter and real arguing. From what I’ve seen...he totally digs you y/n. Now the real question is...are you into him?” She asked not waiting for y/n to decline the feelings that were evident.

“I...no? I don’t know Stephanie,” y/n sighed defeated, “he’s different you know. I’m so used to guys being obnoxious—like that guy Lucas! Ugh he would not leave me alone...but Loki, he’s smart. He’s not just on full display, there’s so much to him and I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface. Not that he’s a project for me to dissect, but I’m enjoying his company...in fact..”

“In fact?...” Stephanie cooed and nudged her friend in the arm teasingly.

“I was going to invite him to...be my escort to the charity banquet my dad wants me to go to.” She smirked. Her face was so full of life, happiness. Stephanie knew this and it made her smile knowing that y/n was getting the fairytale she deserved.

“Yes! Do it! You’re asking him when we get back. Oh my god, what are you gonna wear?” She asked.

“Wait,” She looked a tad nervous, “I want you to come too...please? I would feel more comfortable if you did.”

Stephanie hesitated for a second but decided against her worries, “Sure thing y/n, now...let’s go buy you a god damn ball gown.” She squealed.

“I don’t even know any dress stores. My dresses are from random twenty dollar and below stores.” She protested.

“I know a guy.”

The two women got back inside Stephanie’s car and headed off. Both nervous and excited they made their way towards one of the most high end dress shops in New York City. This was all very new to y/n despite her father being a wealthy man. She never abused his money, nor had he due to the way he and her mother had brought her up. Now here she was, credit card ready to be swiped.

“Yes, is Jessie working today?” Stephanie questioned before a voice interrupted her, “Steph! Hi!” The high pitched male voice cooed before giving her a kiss on both cheeks. Steph pulled y/n a tad closer, “This is y/n. She’s going to a charity banquet tonight. She needs something elegant, sexy, bold. She has a date.” Stephanie stayed proudly. Y/N couldn’t help but shy away a bit. She hadn’t known exactly where to face and it made her slightly anxious. That was until Jessie’s friendly voice spoke once more.

“Oh yes honey, we carry dresses all sizes, all body types. Loose, tight, lacy, glittery. Let’s start with color. What does that heart desire?”

Stephanie quietly asked, “What’s his favorite color?”

“Huh?” “Loki...his favorite color, pick one of his favorite color and you’ve got a home run for sure.”

Y/N cleared her throat before nodding, “Green. Emerald green.”

So then the hunt began. Y/N had been living through the world through touch and the materials she felt were all very different. She blew through 7 dresses easily, Stephanie insisted all of them were beautiful on her. Yet, y/n couldn’t help but feel skeptical. It wasn’t until dress number 9 that she completely adored the fitting. Everything felt lovely among her skin and by the way Stephanie and Jessie said, “Damn girl!” She knew she found the right one. Holding her hands together in front of her, she couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear.

Back at the apartment Loki had gotten himself ready for the day not quite sure where it would lead him. He had come accommodated with the simplicity of cereal for breakfast and didn’t mind as much. Rice Krispies being his favorite, they were always stocked. Mid bite, the girls entered the front door.

Laughing the girls set the bags on the counter. This was when Stephanie stopped in her tracks....Loki had forgotten to put on his garments. Her mouth gaped and Loki quickly stood up and put his finger over his lips as to say to remain silent.

“Eehhhh....” Stephanie squeaked and y/n had a confused look on her face.

“What’s wrong Steph?” She asked holding the dress in a white zip up protection sleeve. Loki chuckled and quickly shot back, “I’m uh, having a bad hair day love...” he trailed, “I had messaged Stephanie with a clothing problem. I’m going to go show her now.” Quickly Loki slowly grabbed her hand and drug her off.

“Alright! I’m gonna p-put this away.” Y/N called out making her way back to her room. These days it was easier for her to do so, as she remembered everything that surrounded her.

Loki closed the door behind him and let go of the completely shocked Stephanie. “Please, hear me out.” He whispered nervously.

“Loki...what is this? T-This isn’t a skin condition. You’re cold. Your eyes are red. Are you a fucking vampire?” She whispered shouted.

“A vampire?...Stephanie no—“ he looked back to the door and grabbed her shoulders gently so she looked him in the eyes, “—I’m cursed. I’m not what you think I am...I’m not even from here. I’m still the same me...I won’t be like this forever...I hope. If you tell y/n, then I will. It will break her heart if she finds out I’ve lied. Please...” he pleaded.

Stephanie could see the sincereness in his eyes. Even though he looked like someone else, she still knew he was the same Loki. If anything she felt more comfortable seeing his actual face for once. She never wanted y/n to be hurt, yet she knew she was obligated to tell her the things she could not see herself. Her mind was at war with itself, but she could only do what felt right in her heart. “You’re going to hurt her more if you say no to what she’s going to ask you. You can’t show up with her blue.” She whispered.

“I...I don’t know what to do then...” Loki let go of Stephanie and rubbed a clammy hand over his face.

“I’ll help you,” She spoke making Loki look back over to her, “I went to beauty school for special effects makeup...I-I can give you something that will hide the skin,” She gulped and fixed her posture, “You’re going to say yes. You’re going with that sweet girl out there...you’re going to wear a suit and I’ll be back tomorrow evening to get you and her ready. Got it?” She said in a slightly threatening voice.

“Yes.”

With time passing, Stephanie kept her word to not tell Loki’s secret. Loki was still yet to find out just exactly what y/n had wanted to invite him to. He was surprised nonetheless that she thought of him at all. During dinner, she thought she’d speak of the whole ordeal.

“So,” She crunched the piece of lettuce from her salad, “I won’t assume you don’t have a life and I wanted to ask if you’re free tomorrow night.”

Loki stopped eating the salad that was before him and set his fork down. “Tomorrow evening, I’m free. What is it you’re proposing?” Those words, y/n found herself always loving to hear the way he spoke.

“A charity banquet. My dad has to represent his corporation there and he wants me to go. Would you like to be my...date.” She hesitated upon the last word of her sentence. In this moment she was glad she didn’t have to face Loki, but even without physically seeing him she remained slightly shy.

Loki’s heart filled with joy, even with Stephanie’s warning he was still taken back. “If I wasn’t mistaken, I would say you’re flirting with me.” He teased. “I-I’m just—Loki shut up. Just, are you going to join me or not?” She stabbed her fork through the salad aggressively and chuckled.

“I would be delighted to be your escort y/n.”

Spending an entire day to find his attire, Loki had this night on his mind constantly. He was incredibly nervous just as to what Stephanie was going to help him plan. Had she told anyone of his identity? Y/N was just as nervous, just in the slightest difference of ways. Hers revolved around appearance, elegance, and impressing.

Y/N had just finished getting ready, technically Stephanie had finished getting her ready, when she gently slid a hand down her arm. Her soft skin feeling far more delicate than before. Stephanie curled her hair and done her makeup to the best of her ability. Light brown eyeshadow covered her eyelids, thin sharp lines of eyeliner swiped along as well, a nude colored lip stick decorated as well. Despite the fact that y/n ever refused to open her eyelids, Stephanie added false lashes to the equation as well. It was only time for her to put on her dress. It was an emerald green color, off the shoulder, the top was cascades with an almost lace type of material that finished with a long satin mermaid tail. Even without seeing herself, y/n felt beautiful. She only hoped she wasn’t the only one.

Loki sat cross legged in the room. Various layers of plastered on makeup over his natural icy blue skin. “Are you to be done yet?” He complained. Fixing his eyebrows to her liking, Stephanie scoffed, “You’re so impatient. Just one more adjustment.” With that she ran a hand through his hair that was slicked back and dropped behind his ears. “I’m done. Go look.”

Loki stood to his feet and made his way to a mirror in the bathroom. He didn’t dare own one of his own, it was pure torture always having to stare at the monster he was turned to. Yet this time, as his frame stood before the glass...he was amazed. He no longer looked like the monster form he had been cursed with...but that of the prince he was on Asgard. His skin looked fair and his features groomed to suit his fancy. He breathed out and blinked a few times just to make sure he was seeing Stephanie’s work correctly. If he hadn’t just sat through the process of makeup for the past hour, he would believe he was truly loved by a human and his curse was no longer. Stephanie stepped in behind him, “You know you do look rather dashing,” she mocked his accent, “Now go get dressed, y/n should be ready for me to zip her up.” She patted his shoulder and made her way to y/n’s room.

Loki got dressed into the suit he owned. He even made a big deal in Stephanie fetching him accents to the suit, such as a new tie and handkerchief. His all black suit was now accompanied by a green tie and handkerchief, thanks to her. He felt confident.

Stephanie zipped up both her own silver dress and y/n’s. “You look so beautiful.” She said sincerely behind her friend. “Thanks to you.” Y/N thanked. Quickly Stephanie ushered y/n out of her room and into the hall. Loki stood in the living room waiting for the limo that was ordered to drive the three to the banquet by her father. Stephanie whispered, “Wait here,” tip toeing into the living room she cleared her throat, “I present to you! Drum roll please, Miss y/l/n of New York!” Loki turned his head as y/n chuckled and nervously held her hands together neatly in front of her. She walked out slowly towards them. She heard silence as Loki’s mouth parted from the awe of beauty in which she possessed. He always knew she was beautiful, but here she was...glamored to someone she could also believe to be, what he seen every day with her.

“All I hear is breathing. Do you not like it?” She asked softly. Loki quickly snapped back to reality and cleared his throat, “No love it’s not that,” he walked towards her and held her hands in his, “I was just taken back from your beauty.” He placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand. “You look absolutely ravishing.” If she hadn’t already, she let out the breathe she was holding in. Her heart was beating even faster than it had before. Loki’s gloves warmed his hands but the familiarity of his cold body comforted her.

“I uh...thank you. I mean...I may not be able to see,” She led her finger tips down the front of his tie, “but I believe you must look incredible as well.” She smiled. Stephanie looked outside the front door hearing a honk. “Time to go!” She squeaked.

The limo took them to their desired destination. Music played while the friends sat inside, they joked around and played with the windows as if they were children. More so y/n and Stephanie than Loki. It was all worth it once they arrived to the banquet. Tons of big named people were there. Their dressed and suits shone with elegance and they were tailored to perfection. Still, all Loki could do was feel absolutely lucky to be within the presence of one woman. Y/N. Her father was delighted to see the two. He was quite more shocked with the sight of Loki without the garments.

“Y/N darling,” he hugged her warmly, “You look absolutely incredible. Loki,” he let go of his daughter and faced the man, “you clean up nice as well. No mask?”

“No mask, sir. The evening isn’t as rough as the day.” He smiled. “Please, make yourselves comfortable. Lord knows I contributed enough into it for you to do so.” Y/F/N spoke proudly.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Stephanie said as she grabbed a glass of champagne delicately and walked towards the other side of the room. Loki held his arm out for y/n as he always does and she kindly wrapped her arm around. Yet this time, it held such more significance.

Sitting at a table decorated with a white table cloth along with a floral centerpiece. They were brought various glasses of champagne. Stephanie had met another man attending and was mingling elsewhere. The two laughed quietly as they joked of the many rich people they were surrounded by. The alcohol making them even more open. Y/N was in a fit of laughter and even laid her head on Loki’s shoulder momentarily before being interrupted. Lucas had walked up to the two. Not recognizing Loki right away, not knowing how he did it, but knowing he was up to something. Loki scoffed as Lucas walked to them. “Y/N. You look astonishing. Loki, hi.” He simply said not finding the words.

Y/N noticeably smiled in a mocking matter. “Thank you Lucas. What brings you here?” “Oh just wanted to know how the night was going for you. Hopefully not too bored of his accent going on and on,” he laughed at his own joke, “I actually came here to offer a dance.”

Y/N rose her eyebrows, “You know what Lucas? I would love to, Ive been dying to. Loki,” she turned towards him and made a small ‘hm?’ Sound, “Would you like to join me on the dance floor?” Loki smiled towards y/n and in a soft voice said, “It would be my honor. Excuse us Lucifer.” He purposely misadressed him as his hand wrapped around y/n’s taking her towards the other groups of people dancing. Lucas stood there dumbfounded and bit his bottom lip angrily.

Y/N giggled lightly as they were finally on the floor. The lights were dimmed down a tad more. “Now Lucifer is a far more suited name for that jerk than Lucas anyways.” She stood with her hands at her side. “Well, I thought I would grace it to him in my voice that he adores so much.” He chuckled as well. The music slowly changed to another song, a slow song.

“I um...I didn’t think this through..” y/n spoke quietly as her fingers fidgeted together. “Why’s that?” Loki’s asked. “I don’t...I don’t know how to dance. Good I mean, I’m not even sure where to put my hands.” She rambled nervously.

Loki quietly spoke, “Relax, I’ve been to a few...banquets such as this before. I could help you. Here,” he grabbed her hands slowly and brought them up onto his shoulders, “you leave your hands there and I’ll,” he slowly snaked his hands over her hips and gently pulled her a tad closer to him, “put mine, there.”

Y/N faced forward and gently whispered, “Now what?..” “Now, we sway...to the melody of the music.” He led the dance trying to make her feel a little more comfortable. He couldn’t help but get lost in her, his smile never fading. “I never thought I’d be dancing...let alone at a banquet. Might I add with a tall man who helps me move around because I’m blind now.” She rambled once more, this time quieter.

Loki let out a nervous sigh of breathe, “Y/N...can I be honest with you?..”

“You’re not going to admit to being an axe murder are you?” She asked chuckling.

“No. Y/N...when I first moved to New York, I could not stand the sight of anyone...I never wanted to be along side anyone but myself,” he spoke softly, “when I met you...I still hadn’t wanted to be around. It was a job. A hobo received yes...but you’ve granted me with the gift of so much more. You’ve taught me...the beauty of life, the inside of a person can be far superior in beauty than one’s shell. I care for you...greatly. I find myself wanting to be around you far more than away from you...it’s quite odd, I’ve never experienced this before. I guess what I’m trying to say is...” with these words spoken quietly between the two, Y/N pressed her forehead delicately to his, “Loki, I...” she trailed.

Suddenly a loud burst was heard. The doors of the banquet had crashed opens and masked men that held up guns and rushed in. Everyone began running as y/n felt herself panic on the inside. She almost fell to the ground as she heard the screams from multiple people. Shots being fired. The ringing in her ears was far more scary than the event itself. Loki held his arms around her, stopping her from falling to the ground from freight. Everything was as if it were in slow motion. Stephanie quickly ran towards the two.

“L-Loki...” She gulped as her eyebrows were furrowed, “Stephanie..where?” She choked out.

“Right here. She’s okay love. We’re going to be alright.” He said strongly and held her up. Shots were fired off once more before they ran out the door and left. “My father, Loki,” she began crying from the fear she felt, “w-where is h-he?” She felt a pit in her stomach as Loki looked around. As the people ran off in different directions he seen a body. One man, shot, bleeding out quickly. Y/N’s father.

“They’re leaving!” Stephanie shouted nervously to Loki. She two seen the horror of what lied ahead. “Take me to him!” She croaked our as tears streamed down.

Quickly Loki ran with y/n towards her father’s body. “Y/N,” he gurgled from the ground, “Go, now.”

“Oh no,” she sobbed and immediately fell to the ground at her father’s side. The blood of her father on her palms. It felt completely and utterly horrible, “Dad! Please!” She sobbed and found his hand with her own that trembled beyond extent.

“Someone call 9-1-1!” Loki shouted at the top of his lungs as her took off the jacket and pressed it over the wound. Stephanie held y/n’s shoulder as she shook.

“Daddy, please don’t l-leave me...” she sobbed and screamed as the scene unfolded before her. She held onto his face as she buried hers into his shoulder.

The only audible sound being that of her broken screaming and sirens in the distance...

Loki taglist: @drakesfiance @sunflqweroses @bambamwolf87 @pandaqua @bonelessbarnes @dorkybryan @hunter-demigod-timelord @thatmemequeen @powerstrangerdacre @barnes-infinity-bucky

Story Taglist: @mrssangsterstylesxavier @awkward-silence-turtle @vxidnik @fandoms-allovertheplace @limedane21 @yourpotatotwiceremooved @crazyweirdgeekthatneedstochill @ajduurikscjsja @kiwigrease @fireismysaftey @nhievyenne @bambi-loki @bilesxbilinskixlahey @jessiejunebug @imarockstar45 @fuckthatfeeling @the-deity-ofthe-cosmos @chibiyanai @zarizha @mell-bell @blueskiesbleakeyes @always-kneel-to-loki @graveyardchild @some-person-somewhere @aljadams369 @marvelc00kie35 @harleykittykat @lokis-little-kitten @sparkling-liability @youveseen--thebutcher @wickedscorpio22 @zeddlocket @sheeraverage @trenchcoatdevilsworld @wishrains

Permanent Taglist: @marvelismylifffe @libbymouse @keithseabrook27 @maladaptive-ninja-returns

#loki #loki fic #loki fanfiction #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #jotun loki #loki of jotunheim #loki of asgard #loki x y/n #loki x oc #loki x you #loki x reader #tomhiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Truth Set Free: Part 2 (Final)

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

As requested by @elivanah : Hey i have an idea for a request, if you like. Maybe one of seb’s character is a mob boss who also owns a strip club. He and reader are dating but she doesn’t know what he does. One day she finds out the hard way. Angst ending with a happy ending and maybe smut.

Part 1

Your heart was racing. You didn’t know what to do! Stay here where you’re safe, like Bucky said or Go back to the club and make sure that Bucky and Cheryl are safe? 

“Fuck it,” you run out from the alleyway and pushed past the people that were spilling out from the doors of Winter’s Fair. You kept your eyes on the look out for your red-haired friend. When you stumbled back into the club, you ducked behind the bar counter as bullets ricocheted around you.

“Y/N!” you heard someone whisper your voice. You looked down behind the counter to see Cheryl and the woman she was talking to. 

You hurriedly and quietly crawled over to them, “Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, but why the hell is your boyfriend involved in a shoot out?!”

“I have no clue!” You let out a few deep breaths to try to calm yourself, “Okay, I’m gonna take a peek, if the coast is clear, you guys get the hell outta here. Got it?” they both nodded.

You crawled back to where you ducked behind the counter. You cautiously peered around it, behind some chairs and saw that everyone was preoccupied with trying to kill each other. You motioned for them to hurry and they did, scrambling to their feet and running as fast as they can out the doors. You didn’t follow them.

“YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST SEND THE PYMS FLOWERS AND A NICE CARD AND THEY’LL JUST PARTNER UP WITH YOU!” you heard a man shout above the gun fire.

“They declined your offer, didn’t they?” you hear Bucky yell from his hiding spot.

“You’re really startin’ to be a pain in my ass, Barnes! My family has been in charge of Brooklyn for decades! You think you can come and sweep in on my business? You messed with the wrong mob family!”

Mob? Was-Was Bucky a mob boss?!

“Y/N!” you felt someone say as they touched you.

You gasped, “Steve!” you hugged him, “Are you okay?” you took note of his busted lip and disarrayed clothes.

The man shrugs, “A little beaten up, but nothin’ I’m used to. I need to get you outta here.” he takes a hold of your arm, but you oppose.

“No! I wanna make sure he’s safe!”

“Buck can handle himself fine. You can’t. If I don’t get you outta here and you get hurt, Buck’ll kill me. Literally kill me. So get up and let’s go!”

He pulls you up and out the door. Behind the club, a car is waiting for the both of you, “Sam?!” you exclaim as you slide into the car.

He looks over his shoulder and waves, “Hey, Y/N!” The car’s tires skirt against the pavement as he pushes on the gas and drives away from the club.

“Okay, seriously, what the fuck is going on?! Are you guys in a mob?! Is Bucky a mob boss?!”

Before anyone can reply, your phone rings and you see that Bucky’s calling you. You immediately answer it, “Bucky?”

You hear him sigh, “Thank God you’re okay. Steve and Sam got ya, right?”

“Yeah. Buck, what-”

“I’ll explain to you later. Right now, the guys are gonna bring you to a safehouse of mine. I’ll be there in an hour or so. They’re gonna watch over you, okay?”

“I’m so confused, Bucky. I’m scared,” you whimper out.

You hear him sigh again, “I know, doll. I know. I promise I’ll tell you everything. I just need to take care of some stuff. Everything will be okay.”

“Okay...I love you.”

There was a beat of silence before Bucky replied, “I love you too, Y/N. I’ll see you soon.” he hung up the phone and you tossed your phone back into your purse.

Bucky let out a long exhale as he watched cops and investigators work around his club, trying to get an understanding of what happened.

“Bucky,” he turned to see a former high school classmate approach him.

“Scott! Hey, man. You’re a cop now? That’s ironic considering how much of a thief you were when we were younger.”

Scott shrugged, “I’ve learned my ways. Anyway, I’m the sucker who has to ask for a statement. You ready?”

Bucky shrugged, “Yeah. I was actually not in the club when the shooting started. I was outside talking to my girlfriend in the alleyway two doors down-”

“Talkin’, huh?” Scott gives him a smirk.

He rolls his eyes, “Yes, Scott, talkin’. Anyway, in the middle of our conversation, we heard the gunshots. I told my girl to stay hidden while I went back inside to see what was going on. I see Brock Rumlow and his goons terrorizing everyone in the club. I pulled out my own gun just in case. 

Rumlow saw me and started firing away along with his men. Me and my security fired back as self-defense. Now because of him, I have to tell these guys’ families they were killed because some asshole was scared of competition.”

Scott nodded and he scribbled everything down, “Alright. Got it. So, as you’re probably aware, this place will be shut down for investigation.”

“Yeah. Well, at least I got the fucker in the shoulder before you guys showed up.” he said with a smirk and Scott snorted. The cop then gave Bucky a pat on the shoulder before walking away. 

Bucky then went to the back of the club and out the door to see his driver waiting for him.

When Steve and Sam escorted you to the safehouse, you assumed it’d be like everything else Bucky possessed: luxurious. But it was just a regular house in the suburbs. 

You walked in to see that the place wasn’t heavily decorated. necessary furniture here and there, occasional paintings and pictures spread around. But overall the place was bare. 

“Master bedroom is up the stairs and second door to the left. Closet is filled. There’s the basic essentials in the bathroom. Do what you need to do. We’ll be down here, Y/N.”

“Thanks, guys.” you went up the stairs and entered the master bedroom. You immediately went to take a shower to clear your thoughts. The warm water soothing your tense, tight body. When you went to wash your hair, you realized that it was the same exact shampoo you used. Did Bucky have a feeling you’d have to come here someday? You continued to wash and rinse your hair. Then soaping up your body with lavender scented body wash. 

You stepped out of the shower minutes later feeling more relaxed and refreshed. You then went to the closet, curious to see if Bucky had actually stored some clothes for you. He did. 

Inside there were some generic clothes: plain tshirts, graphic tshirts, sweatshirts, hoodies, leggings, jeans, etc. He really must’ve thought this through. You decided to go with a graphic tshirt that had a bee saying “You’re the bee’s knees!”,it was so cute and so you, along with some leggings.

“Now here’s the real test: underwear.” you went over to the dresser and looked at the first drawer. One half had men’s underwear and the second half had women’s underwear. You pulled out a lacey number and snorted, “That’s so him,” you threw it back in and went with a pair of floral cotton panties. 

You pulled them on and then the shirt and leggings. As you were drying your hair, there was a knock at the door, “Come in!” you said. 

The door swung open to reveal Bucky and you dropped your towel, running up to him. The speed you went caused him to stagger back a bit, “Woah! Hey, baby.”

You hugged him tight, “I’m so glad you’re safe!” you pulled back and then punched him in the arm, “Now tell me what’s going on!”

“Ah! Okay! Geez!” he rubbed where you hit him and gestured for you to sit down. You did and he began to pace the room, “So I got involved with this when I was twenty-one. I knew my dad was into some sketchy stuff but I never knew it was like this. But after some observing and training and guidance, he handed his position down to me. He was getting old and I was his heir.

“I really built up business. The past ten years, my dad and his business was laughed at. They always said we’d never make it to the big leagues and now we’re there. I did have to do some bad things to get here, though, but I didn’t like it and there really wasn’t any choice.” he walked over to you, kneeling down at your feet, “And trust me, Y/N, I would never do anything to put you in danger. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I was protecting you. If something were to happen to you ‘cause you got wrapped up in all this...I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, doll?”

“Are you the White Wolf?”

You watched as he gulped then nodded, “Yeah, I am, but I’m not a bad guy! Those things that Stark is tellin’ ya, that’s not me! That’s Rumlow trying to throw me under the bus just ‘cause he’s upset I’m better at this than he is!” He stood back up, slicking his hair back.

“I have another question.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you have a feeling we’d have to come here eventually?”

He sat down beside you and shrugged, “I hoped we wouldn’t, but I like to be prepared. Do you like the house?”

“I didn’t get to explore much.”

“It’s for us, actually.”

You looked at him in surprise, “What?”

He chuckled, avoiding your gaze, “Yeah. I bought it a little bit after we started dating.”

“How long after?” he mumbled a response but you didn’t quite hear it, “A bit louder, babe.”

“Five months.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Fucking Hell! Seriously, Bucky?”

A shy smile made its way to his face as he shrugged once more, “I was ready to buy it after the first month.”

“Why?”

He looked up at you and cupped your cheek with his hand, “’Cause you’re it for me, YN. I know you are. I fell in love with you the moment you told me get my car out of your fucking parking spot.”

You giggled, “I had a long day at work. I just wanted to park my car, get into my apartment, and sleep.”

“I’m glad I was in your parking spot,” he murmured as he leaned in.

You leaning in with him mumbled, “Me too,” and you lips met with a gentle kiss. You cupped his face with your hands, deepening the kiss. When he pulled you onto his lap you squealed, “Bucky!” The only response you received was a chuckle and many more kisses. Everything was going to be okay.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #marvel #au #mob boss au

[hautekurture]

[para] the one i want

characters → @hautekurture​, @happilyeveranders, and a special cameo.

location → nyc, ny.

timeframe → february 14, 2019 

summary → kurt celebrates a stereotypical romcom valentine’s day with blaine, leading to unexpected results.

notes → mentions of parental death, body horror, dysphoria.

Blaine smiles as he places his card on the bill, his eyes never leaving Kurt’s face as they finish their dinner. His boyfriend looks extra wonderful tonight, and Blaine’s happy to see he wasn’t the only one looking forward to St. Valentine’s Day. Everyone complains about it being overproduced, but it’s no different than any other holiday, Blaine thinks. What’s special is how Blaine celebrates it. He reaches over to clasp Kurt’s hand, which he sees, has the decorative ring Blaine gave him over Kurt’s birthday. “Shall we head back to campus?” Blaine says, checking his watch. There’s one more gift Blaine has planned for Kurt, and he can’t wait to see Kurt’s face when he sees it.

Kurt pulled over his black PS Paul Smith breasted overcoat over his patterned Givenchy white shirt. The thorny pattern covered well by the simple jacket, and Kurt swung his colorful Alexander McQueen printed pants over to get up. “Why not,” said Kurt. He smiled at Blaine’s watch checking. Another gift? The Valentine’s Day date was romcom trash involving an Old Hollywood movie, another trip to the Empire State Building, and this fancy dinner. It wasn’t bad however. Although Kurt’s hands were freezing in his Fendi Karl Gloves, holding Blaine’s similarly gloved hand as they strolled back to campus made the cold winds bearable.

By the time they were at Sciron Square, Kurt was feeling the playful mood, which was a stark difference whenever he saw the emptying dormitories day by day. Flipping his Offwhite Intarsia scarf out of the way, when Blaine opened the door for him and Kurt followed him to the lobby of the dorm, Kurt too had a very intense itch to put his hands on his boyfriend. He initiated by wrapping his arm around Blaine’s shoulder to pull him into a short kiss. Stranger was the occasion with Kurt wanting more than the first touch.

Blaine is bouncing in the inside stepping into Sciron Square. The reservations have gone perfectly all throughout the night, and the special gift for Kurt, Blaine has agonized over in getting it down without any problem -- and Blaine hopes everything’s in place. These worries leave momentarily when he feels the solid push of Kurt’s fingers on him, and the addicting feel of Kurt’s soft lips. “Mm,” Blaine hums, instantly closing his eyes and sinking into the gentle intimacy of their kiss. Kurt’s a bit different tonight, bolder, and whilst Blaine would have already been loosening his tie eagerly, he can’t tonight. “Mnhey, hey-- Kurt, not here. We have to get to your room. I have a special present for you back at your place.”

“Yes you do, babe,” Kurt whispered back. His interest was piqued by Blaine’s insistence they go to Kurt’s dormitory. Maybe tonight they’d cross all the bases? Kurt hadn’t been thinking about his nights with Blaine in the fore front of his mind since there were so many other things to worry about instead of whether or not Blaine would let him, however the proposition wasn’t something Kurt was going to decline. He followed Blaine beyond the lobby however seeing the back of his boyfriend’s head had Kurt already missing touch. “Your jacket’s too bulky. I wish I had picked out something different,” Kurt muttered, spinning Blaine around and nudging him to the wall of his floor’s hallway. Someone was off in the distance however Kurt was sure the person would slink into their room. He was unbuttoning some of the toggle loops on Blaine’s coat.

Blaine doesn’t get embarrassed with public displays of affection, in fact, it’s where he feels no shame at all but this is not the time. He sees the person in the hallway and notices the baseball cap. Oh, Aether. “Kurt, Kurt! Wait, ah, not here!” Blaine whispers and gently pushes Kurt off of him, though he really likes kisses near his ears. The figure grunts and Blaine slides out to the side, launching toward the person in the hallway with a hand out. “Mr... Mr. Hummel! Good evening, thank you for being here.” Blaine shakes Kurt’s father’s hand, keeping his head down since he’s one-hundred percent certain Mr. Hummel wasn’t expecting seeing Blaine and Kurt in the middle of what Blaine would say is a “frisk.”

Kurt’s eyes widened when he realized why Blaine pulled away. He was face-to-face with his dad in the flesh. “Hi Kurt,” Burt said looking embarrassed. 

“Dad,” Kurt said and then in an exasperated tone, “Blaine.”  Blaine, what the fuck.

Blaine knows that tone. “Sorry! I saw there was a discount on plane tickets and I’m so, so sorry to have kept this from you! But I saw how you don’t get to see your dad a lot and I thought this would be a good time! Mr. Hummel said it was okay!”

Kurt said again, “Blaine.” Blaine, what the fuck. I’m going to die of embarrassment.

Blaine is immediately hit by Kurt’s stare and feels the pressure. Kurt’s probably not the happiest with him but Blaine asks for forgiveness by holding Kurt’s hands and kisses him on the cheek in a G-rated manner as Mr. Hummel is there. It’s now time to escape this situation, quick, just get out of there! “Okay, I’ll be heading out, happy Valentine’s, have a good night with your daddy, Kurt! Bye! Love you!” Blaine fumbles his words and rushes it out of there.

Kurt wound around to yell at Blaine’s retreating back, “Oh my god, just go! People can hear what you’re saying! Why are you like this?!” Blaine was gone by the time Kurt finished his sentence and Kurt groaned, slapping a hand over his eyes. He felt a flush over his face and not the good kind when Blaine was being cute and Kurt couldn’t handle it. Burt was chuckling and Kurt hated this night even more. “Hiya, Dad. Sorry about that. Oh my god. He’s just... ridiculous.” Kurt muttered as he lead his dad to his room.

Once inside, Burt spoke in his simple twang. “He’s a nice boy. Real good to you, it seems like. He showed me by booking the flight, the hotel, and even writing me an itinerary for the type of eats I like in this big city.” Burt took a seat on Kurt’s chair, and Kurt was preparing some tea for them both. 

Just like Blaine to go the extra mile. Kurt shrugged though he was pleased to know Blaine had been accommodating to his dad.

“Was... Carole ok with this? It’s Valentine’s,” Kurt still found it awkward to talk about his dad’s girlfriend who was Finn’s mom. It’s because I only see her like two times a year. I don’t know what she’s like at all. Kurt poured the two cups of tea and passed the mug to his dad. Burt sipped it slow. 

“She was the one who told me to go for it! She knows how much I miss ya, and while you and Finn don’t text us back much, she knows she gets to see him easy and I ain’t got that.” Burt patted Kurt on the arm and Kurt smiled.

“Sorry, Dad. It’s been weird,” Kurt said. He didn’t know how to say more. He didn’t want to freak his dad out with what was going on with his body. The flowers and vines growing out of his skin.

“S’alright. I bet. Carole fills me onnit. Scary things that I don’t get, but the world’s becoming scarier the second. ‘M glad to have her to keep updated with what might happen to you, son.” 

Kurt took the seat next to his dad and sipped his drink too. It was soothing to have this night chat with tea with his dad. It made Kurt think of the past. He fought back a watery smile. “Even if you’re a common?” Kurt realized late he said common instead of human.

Burt chuckled. “She says the authorities won’t know. She got some privileges and pulled some strings so I should be fine. No MIB memory zappin’ here.”

So the cops are corrupt no matter who they are. I guess it’s not bad to have her on our side though. Kurt hummed behind his cup to acknowledge his dad’s statement.

“Y’know, she’ll be here up tomorrow, and I’m going to be with her... You and Finn, try to find some time this week, yeah? We should all go have dinner together, like at one of ‘em family places,” Burt suggested.

Kurt put his mug down and wiped at his mouth with a napkin.

“Kurt, I know when you’re angry,” said his dad. Kurt froze mid-wipe. 

“I know it’s been a long time since your mom passed. Long time since we ever talked about it.” 

Don’t. Please don’t talk about her. Kurt shook his head and forced a smile. He knew he would only make his dad sad if he got bitter about a non-relationship he had with his mother. That’s on me. It’s not on Dad or... even Mom.

“No, I’ll give Carole a chance. It’s not about Mom. I didn’t know Mom.” Kurt admitted and he saw how his dad’s eyes twitched with incoming tears. “I don’t know if I’ll know... how to act around Carole because of it.” Kurt’s fingers circled around his cup. “But she’s nice. I know you wouldn’t like anyone if they weren’t good people.”

Burt nodded. “I think she’s the best and don’t know how she doesn’t think a balding man like me is the pits--”

“Dad, come on--”

“I wanna ask you to give her a chance to be more than just my girlfriend, Kurt. When she’s coming up, I’m... uh. Going for it.” He pulled out a box from his pocket. Kurt felt his insides get cold.

Ah there it is. The punch. Straight into my gut. No minced words. You taught me that, Dad.

Both Hummel men sat at the table with their teas cooling. Finally Kurt spoke up.

“Do you think you love her, Dad? No BS?”

“No BS, Kurt. She makes me feel the happiest I’ve ever been. I want to show her I’m for her as she’s for me, son. love her.” 

Kurt saw the determination in his dad’s eyes and couldn’t get mad at that. I can’t. Dad deserves to be happy.

“What about Blaine?” Burt asked. Kurt wasn’t expecting the question back. 

How do I feel with Blaine? He drives me nuts. He’s doing these extra, very him things for me which he doesn’t need to waste his time, energy, or care on however naturally he does it, every single day, unflinchingly. He makes me laugh hard enough to cry. And cry hard enough to laugh. However...

Kurt’s mind drew up Blaine’s face next to him in sleep and it warmed up Kurt right from his chest, driving all the cold out he had felt. He makes me the most I’ve ever been. Angry. Sad. Surprised. Wanting. Before him, I don’t know if I felt... The happiest I’ve ever been. 

Kurt didn’t say anything. If Burt was indeed his dad he would know what Kurt was feeling. 

“Is what you felt with Mom the same as you feel with Carole now?”

His dad’s face changed. “I don’t know. Elizabeth was... she’s different. I love her, but it’s not the same as I love Carole. I’m sorry, son.”

Kurt nodded though he didn’t know what he was appearing to agree to. He knew he wanted his Dad to move on. However there was the underlying shadow. The fickleness of the heart. Is there such a thing as a one true love.

Pushing his cup aside, Kurt went to give his dad a hug. “Don’t be sorry, Dad. I’m happy for you. Honest. Hope the proposal goes well. We should all have a family dinner together. I’ll ask Finn. I’m sure... I’m sure Mom would be happy to see you move on.” Kurt hated to pretend to know how a dead woman felt. 

“Thank you, Kurt.”

His dad hugged him back and the two Hummel men sat there, both of their hearts simultaneously lightened and burdened with their relationships, new and old.

#ref: paras #para: self #para: blaine anderson #tw: parental death #cw: body horror #cw: body dysphoria #// timelorded :x

[crownedbyluke]

Through the Wall (Part Nine)

Premise: you live in the same complex as 5 Seconds of Summer and are neighbors with their lead singer, Luke Hemmings. When Luke and his girlfriend start fighting, you take an approach of blasting his own music back at him to tune it out. When you finally meet Ashton at a coffee shop near your complex, there are sparks flying, but what happens when Luke starts to get jealous?

Word Count: 2,500 (oops...sorry)

The headache you woke up with that morning was worse than any hangover you ever had. You checked your phone, no texts from Luke. Two from Ash, one from Cal, and one from Michael.

Ash: hey he’s gonna be okay. You’ll get through this.

Ash: he just needs time Y/N. he’ll come around.

CalPal: Y/N I know you didn’t expect that to happen tonight. You deserve that promotion without being forced to be in a relationship with anyone. Give Luke some time and I know he’ll let you talk to him. He’d be crazy not to give you a chance to explain what happened.

Big Red Dog: Y/N you are an amazing person. I’ll support you no matter what you decide to do, promotion or not, you’re still my friend.

They made you feel slightly better, but it wasn’t the same. You wanted Luke and only Luke. You had a voicemail and with the slight hope it was Luke, you listened to it.

Listen here Y/N. If you don’t continue to go along with this relationship my father is going to take away that little promotion of yours - You stopped listening right away. This wasn’t fair and it definitely wasn’t legal or at least you hoped it wasn’t legal. You heard some noise in the kitchen and were hoping it was Crystal and not some burglar. You followed the noise and then came the smell of bacon. You had forgotten your glasses in your room, but you stopped short when you saw it was in fact Crystal. Her purple hair gave it away. You might be blind without your glasses, but you weren’t color blind thank god. A part of you was hoping it would be Luke.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” she asked and you couldn’t tell, but it sounded like she was giving you a smile.

“Head hurts. Are you making me breakfast?” you asked and walked back to your room to grab your phone and glasses.

“Yeah. I had a feeling you wouldn’t eat unless I forced you to,” she said and watched as you pulled yourself up onto the counter.

“That was a correct feeling. Crys, I’m sorry about last night,” you said and hung your head a bit.

“Y/N, what happened last night wasn’t your fault. You have nothing to apologize for,” she said and put some bacon on a plate for you.

“I know, but-”

“Nope. I don’t want to hear it. Eat your food,” she said and pushed the plate closer to you. You listened and the bacon on the plate was gone in a matter of minutes. You hopped off the counter to go to the bathroom when you felt sharp pain in your hand.

“Fuck!” you shouted and held your hand up. Sure enough, there was a small piece of glass in your hand. The counter was empty and you saw a something from the drawer sticking out.

“Do you have any tweezers?” Crystal asked while inspecting your hand.

“Shit, no. They’re at Luke’s,” you said and felt stupid for not bringing them back with you. You shared a look and you both knew what had to be done.

“You go, he doesn’t want to see me,” you said and went into the bathroom to clean out what you could.

“Y/N-”

“Crys, I don’t want him to be in a situation he doesn’t want to be in because I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings. Please,” you said cutting her off. You heard the door close and shook your head at your stupidity. Of course you left your tweezers at Luke’s.

You heard the door open and went out into the kitchen.

“Thank you for. Luke,” you said surprised to see him. He had the tweezers in his hand and he looked worried.

“Crystal said you were hurt. Said you had a big piece of glass stuck in your hand,” he said and looked away from you.

“Um, well, she lied. I have a small piece of glass in my hand, but I do still need the tweezers,” you said and moved a little closer to him in hopes he would look at you or at least give you the tweezers. He wouldn’t look at you and he wasn’t handing over the tweezers. It was starting to sting and if you didn’t get the damn piece of glass out, you knew it was going to hurt later.

“I know you’re mad at me, but to be fair, they are my tweezers and I do need to get this piece of glass out of my hand. I’m sorry Crystal lied to you and didn’t follow you in so you could drop them off,” you said and moved closer again. He handed you the tweezers, but he didn’t leave right away. You smiled a little and went back into the bathroom to remove the glass. You couldn’t get your hand to be at the right angle to get it.

“Fuck!” you shouted and groaned. You really needed Crystal to come back to help you.

“Let me help,” you heard Luke say from the doorway. You looked up at him and saw all the worry in his face. It was a small cut, but to Luke, you needed help. You handed him the tweezers and pointed to where the cut was.

“Y/N, this is gonna hurt but if you move, it’ll hurt more so just stay still okay?” he said, repeating the words you said to him when he was in your place. You saw a small smile coming across his face. You winced a little when he pulled the glass out, but other than that it was painless. You cleaned the cut and then put a bandaid on it. Luke gently took your hand in his and placed a kiss over your bandaid.

“Luke, I. Last night-”

“Y/N, I don’t want to think about last night,” he said quietly, your hand still in his.

“We kinda have to don’t you think?” you asked and tried looking in his eyes, but he wouldn’t meet yours.

“No. I’m gonna head home. See ya later,” he said and started walking away. You couldn’t just let him kiss your hand and walk out of your apartment.

“Luke Robert Hemmings!” you yelled after him. He stopped by your front door and stared at you. You had never used his middle name. He didn’t even think you knew it.

“Don’t walk away. Please. Please don’t walk away,” you begged walking towards him. He was shocked. He couldn’t move from his place by your door. He just watched as you walked towards him.

“I don’t care if I lose my job okay? I’m not going to let them bully me into a promotion or a relationship I don’t want. They can fuck off,” you said and stood in front of him. If it took you putting all of your cards on the table to keep him standing there, then hell, you would put them all out there.

“Y/N-”

“No. I don’t care. Luke, I want to be with you. Not Ashton, not some random guy, and not Andrew. I want you Luke Robert Hemmings,” you said and took his hands in yours.

“Y/N-”

“Do you want to be with me?” you asked cutting him off again. It was a simple question, but it was loaded with a lot more than just yes and no.

“It’s not that-”

“It’s a yes or no Luke. Do you want to be with me?” you asked again. If he needed you to beg him, you would get on your knees to beg him to stay.

“I won’t let you throw your life away because you want to be with me. I’m going on tour in two months. I’m gonna be gone and you’re gonna be here. Without your job, you’d be lost. You love it there. You love the work you get to do there and you love watching your plans come into full effect. I can’t let you drop all of that because of a stupid rockstar neighbor,” he said and looked down at me. There were some tears welling up in his eyes.

“Luke, yes or no?” you asked again. The urge to play with your ring was coming in and if you let go of Luke’s hands now, you were scared he’d walk out the door.

“Yes, but-”

“There doesn’t need to be a but. Luke, I want this. I want us, I want the whole thing. Can you look at me and tell me with confidence that you want it too?” you asked and squeezed his hand again. He was looking everywhere except you. You started to worry that you had misunderstood somewhere or that you were coming on too strong. He was dumped a freaking week ago and here you were asking for him to jump back into a committed relationship. Another moment passed and Luke still hadn’t said anything. You let go of his hand and started playing with your ring. If he didn’t want you the way you wanted him, then you couldn’t help that. You felt tears starting to well up in your eyes from the continued silence on his part.

“I get it. You don’t have to say anything. I understand. You can go,” you said and started walking towards your room. You wanted him to stop you. You wanted him to fight for this the same way you were willing to. You heard the door close and your heart hurt all over again. You crawled into a ball on your bed, not even the blankets being enough to comfort you.

You woke up not knowing what time it was. You didn’t want to leave your bed and you didn’t want to check your phone. There were probably a bunch of texts from Crystal and a bunch more from the rest of the boys. You heard it ringing from the other side of the apartment though which meant it was either an emergency or it was work. You pulled yourself from your bed and went back to the kitchen to grab it.

“Hello?” you answered, not checking the caller ID.

“Ah, Y/N, so nice to hear your voice. I’m guessing you’ll be accepting our offer then?” you heard Stanley say on the other end.

“You mean the offer of me dating your son to get a promotion?” you asked just wanting to clarify.

“That would be the one,” he said. You didn’t care if Luke didn’t want you. It was time to stand up for yourself.

“Actually Stanley, I would like to tell you that I will be declining your offer. Your son is an asshole that decided to call me last night and threaten me. I have the voicemail and I plan to use it for a case against you,” you said and clenched your fist.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ve fired Andrew. After what he pulled last night, he’s been terminated. I had no intention of putting you in that position Y/N. I was genuinely offering you the promotion. Andrew was supposed to announce that he was leaving the firm. You are correct however that he is an asshole. I apologize for any harm that he’s caused you,” Stanley said. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“You mean, I don’t have to date your son for the promotion?” you asked your heart starting to beat the same speed it did last night.

“You don’t have to date my son. In fact, I’m pretty sure that band guy you were making eyes at would appreciate it even more,” he said. You wanted to scream.

“Sir, I’m so sorry that I threatened to sue you,” you said quickly after realizing you would still be working for him.

“Oh Y/N, that’s why you’re my new head of marketing. Enjoy your weekend off. We’ll talk numbers and all that on Monday,” Stanley said and then hung up. You had to tell your friends about the news, but that meant checking your phone. Three texts and two missed calls from Ashton, two texts from Crystal and one from Calum.

Ash: what happened? y/n why is Luke beating himself up?

Ash: you not answering isn’t helping. Luke just said you begged him to be with you and he didn’t say anything.

Ash: I REPEAT LUKE SAID HE WAS BEING STUPID AND DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE ALIVE

Crys: listen, I’m sorry that I tricked Luke into talking to you. I thought it would help.

Crys: let me know if you need anything okay?

CalPal: you know what fuck that Andrew guy, you can come work for us as a part of our team if they fire you.

You had to admit that Calum’s text made you laugh.

You created a new group message, but left Luke out of this one.

Y/N: Stanley just called. Said he fired asshole anyways. I have my job without dating him. Help me win back Luke?

Ash: thank god you’re alive! Whatever you need, I’m on it.

CalPal: he’s at mine right now. Ash you have a spare key to his place right?

Big Red Dog: Crys and I are in. We will do all the things that need to be done.

Ash: yeah it’s at my place, what ya thinking c-swizzle?

Y/N: oh my god, please stop calling Cal that. What are you thinking CalPal?

Ash: so you can call him CalPal? Fuck that. C-swizzle hit us with the plan please.

CalPal: you two are ridiculous. I’m thinking we surprise Luke before he comes back. Have Y/N dress up, make dinner, maybe put on some music, set the mood ya know?

Big Red Dog: if you’re suggesting that we set them up to have sex, I’m out.

Ash: I’m with Mike on that.

CalPal: you two suck at this. NO! I’m saying, we setup a romantic dinner for the two of them. I’ll make Luke put something other than sweats on before he heads back his place. Jesus Mikey.

Y/N: Cal, I hate to break it to you, but that’s what I took it as too. Okay, I’m in. WAIT, CALUM CAN I BORROW YOUR GUITAR?

CalPal: why the hell would you need my guitar?

Y/N: it’s a surprise pleeeeeease.

CalPal: fine. Operation get Luke and Y/N together is a go!

Ash: it needs a better codename.

Big Red Dog: are you seriously complaining about the fucking codename?

Ash: okay fine. Break!

CalPal: Mikey come get my guitar for Y/N. I can’t really leave Luke alone or he’ll get suspicious.

Ash: Y/N, I’m bringing my key down!

Big Red Dog: I’m supposed to tell you that Crys is coming over to pick out your outfit.

Y/N: I love you guys.

CalPal: yeah yeah, love us after we’ve accomplished our mission.

I’m sorry this was late! I didn’t get back until after midnight (almost one) so I didn’t get to post it. THE FLUFF IS COMING I SWEAR!

Tag list: @thruheavenandhighwater @rosesforluke @a-study-in-melapples @fallengrimes @thebookamongmen @lilheavfuhyobih @cocobuttercalum

Part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

#d writes #my writing #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #michael clifford #calum hood #5sos #5sos fic #5 seconds of summer #luke #ashton #michael #calum 5sos

[arazialotis]

Back Of A Cop Car - Part 2

Word Count: Around 4600  

Pairing: Dean x Sheriff!Reader

Summary: The reader meets Sam in her last year of high school and is head over heels for his older brother Dean. When they finally get a moment alone, it is short lived and they both end up in more trouble than they signed up for. 

Part 1

More than ten years later Sam and Dean come back to town to finish a job their father had started. Yet they are both caught off guard when a familiar face makes their job a whole lot harder. 

Warnings: Language, General mentions of regular SPN violence/gore

This is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I am by no means a writer so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

------

It had been a few days since Officer Benoza had come crying to your office about evidence she had misplaced but it had turned up in the end. Though reminiscing in the past had brought back a longing. You wondered what had become of both Sam and Dean. Had Sam made it to Yale or Hartford? Did Dean escape the family business and trek off on his own? Had either of them found someone and settled down? You sure hadn’t aside from the relationships that lasted a few months every now and then. But as soon as you made sheriff, the dating scene halted completely.

You laughed pulling Dean’s mugshot from your desk, remembering his devilish charm but the picture now showed such boyish and innocent features, you wondered how he had changed, if you would even recognize him if you crossed paths. Your mugshot, however, was framed on the wall. Once you joined the force, the pranks became old real quick, it seemed better just to display it out in the open.

It followed you to the sheriff’s office. Yes, you were young to be in this position, but you were smart and you had proven yourself time and time again in the field. Officer Stevens was no longer with the force, although you did work a couple years by his side. He was the one that pushed you towards criminal justice and to run for sheriff. You cried a bit at his retirement party, but he found a way to keep in trouble; coming around the station frequently, giving you advice on cases he was following in the paper.

Of course when you needed his guidance and advice the most, he was off fishing in the Bahamas. Aside from him, only Officer Murillo had worked the previous case but not down in the nitty gritty. Regardless, the both of you had been putting countless hours of overtime pouring over every last detail. The previous case had ended as deemed that the murderer had committed suicide. But the details were so strikingly similar, you doubted even a copycat could pull this off with such precision. Besides all the evidence they had on the perp was circumstantial. The true murder could have seen his opportunity and laid low for a few years but the itch was just to strong and they began again.

Unfortunately, press was much different nowadays than it was even just ten years ago. With constant headlines on facebook and television, you avoided it all together. The following afternoon, having only left the office six hours ago, you were back on duty. You made your way into the office, a latte in had with perhaps two or three extra shots of espresso. Murillo had the day off, and you made sure he wouldn’t come in. In the lobby the tv was on as usual, reporting on morning news.

A male reporter with a fake tan and unnaturally white teeth was discussing the recent case. “Realistically, Sherriff Y/L/N has only been on the job for a year and a half, how can someone lose their touch if they never had it? You have to wonder if she’s the right man for the job.”

You rolled your eyes. Sexist pig. If you weren’t held to an ethical standard, you would be tempted to target him for speeding. “Can you change the channel?” You requested out of annoyance.

“Sure thing boss.” The tiny young receptionist peeped, switching channels immediately to some soap opera. “Hey, don’t listen to them. They are not here everyday seeing the hours and effort you are putting in.” “Thanks.” You mumbled and headed for your office closing the door behind, not really wanting the pep talk.

Dean’s photo still laid on your desk from last night. But you pushed a pile of papers over it, looking for the most recent criminal profile; male, satanic/cult ritualistic tendencies, long term resident to know people's routines and schedules, knowledge of medical procedures and autonomy. It was all stuff you heard before. It also contradicted the first case closure, the girl who it all was pinned on. To make things worse, there were apparently FBI agents wanting to get involved as well. Although you haven't had enough caffeine for social interaction, you headed out of your office to check on any new leads through the fingerprints and DNA found at the most recent scene.

---

Around 4 PM, Sam and Dean pulled up to station. Dean shifted the Impala into park and straightened his tie while checking his teeth in the mirror. Sam sat motionless, still upset about the situation.

“I still don’t like this idea.” Sam stated.

“Cheer up pal.” Dean patted Sam’s chest and hopped out of the car.

Sam followed him, continuing to argue. “All I’m saying is there is usually a reason we don’t come back to previous cases. We should have called another hunter in on this.” “What? You think someone is going to remember us? Weren’t you like in middle school last time we were here?” Dean asked.

“I was a senior.” Sam corrected.

“Your hair has, what, grown three feet since then? No one is going to recognize us. A lot has changed in 10 years.” Dean rambled heading up the stairs to the police station. “We just have to go in with confidence that’s all.”

Dean pushed open the doors, the layout and decor greatly updated since he last remembered it. With no recognizable faces, he was on a role. He took the lead and headed directly to reception.

“Hey there sweetheart.” He leaned over the counter, grinning at the receptionist. “I had called in earlier about some files.”

She giggled, lost in his smile. “Oh of course, let me call my boss up quick…” She picked up the phone dialing your extension. “Sorry, she’s not picking up, let me go look for her.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably next to Dean, keeping a watchful eye.

“There’s no reason to waste her time.” He pulled out his FBI badge. “I’m sure this is all you need. I’ll leave my card as well.” He assured with a wink.

The receptionist looked at the badge, debating.

You were coming back from forensics, when you noticed the two suits standing in your lobby. One of them leaning over, clearly making eyes at the receptionist. It must be the feds, you knew you had to introduce yourself now or later, might as well be now. The tall one with the long hair turned around. Both of your eyes went wide with surprise and recognition. All the sleep deprivation magically left your system replaced by excitement.

“Sam Winchester!” You squealed, running in for a hug.

“Y/N?!” Sam was just as ecstatically surprised as you at first, embracing you in a hug before shooting Dean a ‘I told you so’ scorn.

Dean straightened up and cleared his throat upon realizing it was you.

You stepped back getting a better look of Sam. “I thought I’d never see you again! God, it’s has to have been ten years at least?” He still had that brightness you remembered so well.

“Yeah, I was hoping to run into you.” Sam tried to match your eagerness.

You glance at his partner and your heart hit the floor. “Dean?” His bad boy charm had matured; his jaw more chiseled, weariness in his smile, but those luminescent eyes still promised thrill and danger. Jealousy rose in your chest knowing he had been shamelessly flirting. You tried to stand a little taller.

“Wow.” Dean felt his heart flutter, the years had been more than generous to you. “Sheriff?” He noticed the star on your chest. “Who woulda thought.” Sam grew evermore anxious.

“Not me that’s for sure.” You laughed. “So what are you all doing in town? Sorry, it’s just so unexpected.”

“Nah, it’s alright.” Sam tried to recover. “Just on business.” You noticed the badge still in the receptionist’s hand.

“Federal Investigation business, that is.” Dean added following your eyes.

You took the badge and examined it. “Bullshit.” No chance in hell either one of them was FBI.

Sam chuckled nervously sensing the change of atmosphere.

“Tell ya what.” Dean fished out a card. “Why don’t you just call our supervisor and he’ll straighten all this out.”

“How about I run the badge myself.” You declined to take his card. “Sam shall I check yours too while I’m at it?” Sam went from nervous to overly cheesy. “I’m sorry, I can’t do it anymore... We are passing through town, just on business, and definitely wanted to see you. And we just.” He paused to laugh. “Though it would be hilarious to prank you while we were at it.” The lack of amusement on your face clearly stated you were not buying it. “So, uh, when you aren’t busy, um, do you want to grab dinner or something?”

“Yeah… sure.” You passively agreed.

“Awesome. Should we exchange numbers or just call 911?” Dean joked.

You pulled a smirk having heard it several times before. You wrote your cell on your business card and handed it to Sam. “Hopefully it will work out, we’ve been awfully busy around here trying to catch a serial killer…” You stated only to gauge their reaction.

They exchanged glances. “Really, that is… wow...” Sam gasped.

“Just like the time we were locked up in here together Dean… remember?” You continued pushing, the wheels in your head spinning.

“Oh, that’s a night I could never forget.” He assured.

“Mmhmm.” You hummed placing his badge in your pocket fully intending not to return it. “Well, I really should get back to the books. Give me a call though.”

“Right, of course.” Sam agreed. “See you around.” You stayed put as he and Dean turned to exit the lobby. It was only after they were out the front door that you ran to the window. They seemed to be arguing outside the same chevrolet Dean drove as a kid. You went to the reception’s phone.

“I was going to look for you, I swear.” She defended.

You hushed her dialing Benoza’s extension. “Hey. I got a gut feeling about something. You up for some tailing?” She was more than happy to obliged.

You took a seat back in your office closing the door blaming the caffeine overload for your swirling head. Perhaps the years had fogged your memory, but the boys you remembered weren’t capable of such things, especially Sam. Yet your instincts screamed at you. The coincidence that they were in town with a string of murders with the exact same pattern as the case ten years ago; the only other time they were in your town, then mysteriously vanished.

Against your own will, not wanting to know the truth, you dug through the system’s old records, locating Dean’s file. Fingerprints and all. Your finger hovered over the mouse before building up the courage to hit scan. Since the latte you had since moved onto regular pot of coffee. You went to refill but before you even started to pour, you already heard the ping indicating a match. You poured the glass, already hearing another and then another.

It must be malfunctioning you thought, setting the cup down and heading back over to your desk. Upon seeing the results, your stomach turned over and immediately you grabbed for the trash can to spit up. His prints alone were associated with countless unsolved murders, grave desecrations, weapons, blood trails; the list went on and on, and those were just Dean’s.

You wiped your mouth with a tissue, blaming again the coffee for the incident. You texted Benoza: Someone on them at all times. No. 1 suspect, will debrief you later. She responded her understanding. Meanwhile, you were going to head back to the latest scene of the crime, if you could pin Dean or Sam there, you could bring them in for questioning; potentially more. 

---

“Do I need to say it?” Sam sternly asked. Dean blew him off. “We don’t work old cases.”

“Come on Sam. It’s Y/N we’re talking about. Sweet little innocent Y/N. This will be easy peasy. In and out. Plus, I can tell she still wants me.” Dean rambled. “Maybe I’ll get a little more out of this case.” 

“It’s not too late, we could still call someone else in.” Sam suggested.

“And give up the chance of what I missed out on ten years ago, no way.” Dean argued.

Sam rolled his eyes. “And I thought Dad had scared you away for good.” Dean clenched his jaw. Sam didn’t know the half of it. “I know he sure did me.” Sam continued.

“Ahh. I’m my own man now.” Dean brushed off the memories.

Sam followed Dean into the Impala. “Frankly, I’m surprised she didn’t arrest you right then and there.”

“Yeah, maybe just to see me in handcuffs again.” Dean teased. “But we’ll call her up, go for dinner, a few drinks, and have a great time.” Dean pulled off onto the street.

“Is that why she’s having us followed?” Sam asked.

Dean looked in his rearview mirror noting the oldsmobile. “We are not being followed.”

Sam stayed silent recognizing Dean’s maneuvers in attempt to loose the car, but after every turn, the oldsmobile quietly crept behind in the distance. 

“Fine, we’re being followed.” Dean gave in. “New plan. We go back to the motel, exit out the bathroom window and head to the scene of the last crime. If we are sure it matches, make sure Dad crossed his t’s and dotted his i’s.”

“Dean, I was there. Dad took care of the mumiho and there’s no chance that thing was going to recover.” Sam explained.

“So you’re telling me the chances of dad screwing up are less likely than two very ancient and very rare Korean spirits hitting the exact same town, oceans apart from its home country, exactly ten years apart.” Dean sarcastically doubted.

Sam pushed his lips together. “What I am saying is we do not have enough details. I haven’t been able to hack my way into the police system yet. From what the press is printing, yes it does seem similar, but for a town this size and history of crime, perhaps they are making connections that aren’t really there.” Sam argued.

“So either way we need to visit the scene of the crime.” Dean repeated.

Sam nodded in agreeance.

----

When Benoza reported that she was staking out the boys at their motel, you decided to get ready and leave for the crime scene. When trading places with the old sheriff, you had passed up on his Bronco just for a regular squad car. Not three minutes had passed since you left the station when you heard a report coming in over the radio for a disturbance at the cemetery.

You grabbed your radio. “It’s on my way, I’ll stop by.” Reading what you just had learned about Dean, it raised your suspicions.

Once you arrived you instantly regretted it. “Mr. MacGregor,” You addressed the groundskeeper. “I think you need to contact animal control.”

He had shown you around. At least four graves had the same two foot wide holes. All occuring on different nights. You clicked your flashlight on, squatted down, and shown it into the hole, unable to see the bottom.

“That’s what I thought at first too, but animals don’t go digging holes that deep and especially breakthrough…” He explained.

You stood up, brow furrowed together. “Breakthrough… the coffins?”

He nodded his head and pulled out a locket. “This was just inside the hole this morning. Caught on a root.” You grabbed a rubber glove from your back pocket and took a look to examine it. The engraving on the back the same as the head stone.

“I was here when they buried her. She was wearing it. Metal casket too…” He explained.

You place the locket in an evidence bag. “I’ll send some officer’s out to gather more evidence. Also, animal control…” You looked at the hole again not noticing traditional shovel marks. “Just to get their input. I expect you’ll cooperate with them?” “Of course ma’am.” He assured. “But you should know. There this woman been coming around at night too. Never got a good look at her.”

“Hmmm. You think she’s got something to do with it?” You asked.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Alright… Let the other officers know as well… they’ll look for prints, get a more detailed statement…” You assured him.

You sighed getting back into the squad car, setting the evidence aside on the passenger's seat. You did some quick paperwork and radioed in two officers to come by to take a closer look. Lastly, you phoned over to animal control who ensured they would come by as soon as possible. Honestly it was a bit relieving not to have pinned Dean here yet; to think it was just an animal no matter how weird the circumstances.  Everything you were taught lead you to believe that Dean and/or Sam was the murderer, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to accept it, not 100 percent at least.

---

The sun was setting when Sam and Dean had made their way to the latest victim’s house. The door was sealed shut with tape and a warning notifying anyone except police not to enter. Dean whipped out his pocket knife and tore through the wrap, allowing them both inside. They searched around a bit, eliminating the obvious; cold spots, sulfur, EMF.

“This is pointless.” Sam complained. “We need to examine the bodies.” “The police aren’t looking for what we do, they most likely missed something in the case.” Dean reassured. “Besides, wait a couple more hours and we can break into the station since you can’t break into their website.” “Shut up.” Sam groaned.

Dean waltzed to the kitchen and flipped on the light. “Hey, did the neighbors mention anything about a dog?” He nodded to the muddy paw prints on the kitchen floor.

Sam knelt down and got a closer look. Dean knew very well there were no neighbors, they were on the very outskirts of town. He pulled out his phone to compare. “They do appear… fox-like.” Dean clapped his hands together. “That’s all I need to know. So, where’s the den of the one you supposedly killed.” “Supposedly killed? I was…” Sam started to argue but he was cut off by the sound of gravel crunching underneath tires.

Sam tired the window in the kitchen but it was jammed. Dean quietly raced to the front window, pulling the curtain slightly aside to peek out.

“Oh great, it’s your high school BFF.” Dean snarked. “Is there a back door?” Dean whispered to Sam. Sam shook his head no. The both heard the sound off boots on the front porch. “Find a way out, I’ll distract her.” “What? No.” Sam quietly protested.

They both paused at the sound of the door creaking open. “Get out.” He mouthed to Sam and quietly walked towards the front.

---

You pulled up to the latest scene of the crime, to process additional evidence, to look at it with fresh eyes, to find incriminating evidence against the Winchesters; whatever the reason you were just glad to be out here away from judgemental eyes. A quiet place where you could just think without that burnt orange of a news anchor peering at your every move.

You wandered up to the front porch, your instincts stopping you before reaching the door. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears realizing the seal had been broke. Hopefully it was just teenagers, a few instantly came to mind. You uncliped your gun from it holster and slowly pushed the door open.

“This is the police.” Your voice felt foreign in your throat. “Let’s make this as easy as possible and come out with your hands up.” “Don’t panic.” You pointed the gun towards the kitchen were the voice was coming from. “It’s just me.” Dean? He waltzed out of the kitchen with his hands in the air.

“Dean Winchester.” You stated.

He smiled and popped his eyebrows. “That’s me.” “You are under arrest for trespassing on a crime scene.” You swallowed the growing lump in your throat.

“Oh come on sweetheart, I was innocent last time and I still am.” He assured with confidence.

“You have the right to remain silent.” You began the Miranda rights. His smile dropped as you put your gun away and replaced them with handcuffs. “Against the wall.” You nodded.

He complied. “You know, if you are into bondage, ya could have just asked.” You were glad he was facing the wall to conceal the blush that grew within you. “Is Sam here with you?” You tried to ignore his rhetoric.

“Just you and me sweetheart, ever since I saw you at the station just wanted to get you alone.” He assured.

“Sam!” You called but did not hear a response. You swear you felt some tension leave Dean. “I need to pat you down.” You warned.

Dean chuckled. “I always enjoy a good frisking.”

Had it been any other male, you would have rolled your eyes. You immediately removed a handgun tucked into his jeans. “I assume you have a permit for this.” You snarked disassembling it and laying it on the nearest table.

Dean chuckled nervously. You removed four other weapons including a bowie knife, another knife with unknown symbols carved into it, as well as a lock pick in his back pocket. He easily followed your push towards the squad car, thinking through his options, he’d gotten out of worse before. You locked him inside and went back to retrieve his weapons and have another look around.

In the meantime, Sam came around to the car and opened Dean’s door but furrowed his brow when Dean didn’t immediately get up and go. “Dude, Let’s go.” He encouraged.

“I got this, I can handle it.” Dean calmly affirmed.

“You in handcuffs.” Sam sniped.

“Kinky, right?” Dean smirked.

Sam rolled his eyes and practically grabbed Dean. “Hey, Hey.” Dean whispered attempting to stay put. “Seriously, I’ll win her over. We’ve done it before.” “I’m not bailing you out.” Sam warned.

“Get outta here.” Dean growled.

Sam sighed but gave in. It would help to have you on their side for this case. He shoved Dean back in and silently closed the door before taking off into the woods.

Coming back out of the house, completely unaware of their interaction, you threw the weapons in the passenger's seat on top of the locket. You sighed picking up your papers so you could record everything that just happened.

“This brings me back…” Dean started. You pretended not to listen, flipping through papers. “I was a wide eyed 22 year old stud… A fiesty girl with no regards for rules or authority sat next to me, that cross around her neck throwing me off at every turn.” You automatically grabbed at it even though it was no longer there. “I don’t know what she had in mind that night, but I was just glad to be by her… She stood by my innocence, even though she had no reason too…”

He was just playing minds games with you. Had to be. Every instinctive thought in your mind blared he was a cold blooded killer but your eyes darted to the rearview mirror and met his piercing green eyes in the back. You looked away flustered.

“Back then she told me a ghost story. I told her there was no such thing. Course, I thought I was protecting her. She didn’t need to know of the truly horrifying things that haunt this world. But maybe she’s old enough know to know the truth.” He rambled.

“She didn’t think monsters were real.” You piped in sarcastically. “Only to learn that she loved one and it now sits in the back of her car.” Shit! You squinted your eyes shut. Did you just use the word love?

Dean smiled and looked down at his feet, taken aback by your words. “I’m not a monster sweetheart, I’m what monsters are afraid of.” 

“So, what? You think of yourself as some sort of vigilante?” You questioned.

He chuckled. “I guess you could say that.”

“Well, no one is above the law in my town.” You promised.

“Do you hold the ghost and demons to that same standard?” He played.

“If they existed, I’m sure I would.” You affirmed.

“Oh but they do. You just don’t want to believe or don’t have the will to see the patterns.” Dean explained.

“So your saying sweet ol’ Larry who lived in this cabin was some sort of monster and it was your job to put an end to it.” You clarified remember something about religious psychosis or cults in part of the criminal profile.

“No. Larry was a victim. While your wasting your time looking for a serial killer, Sam and I are hunting the real murderer… A kumiho.” He disclosed.

You turned around to face him. “A what?”

“A kumiho. An accent spirit from around East Asia. Goes by different names; Kitsune or Huli Jing. The difference with the kumiho though, it’s always a malevolent creature. It can shift between that of a fox or a woman in white. Always preying on men, cutting out their livers and eating it in order to survive… if it can’t get fresh meat, digs up graves for leftovers…” Dean explained and you shivered in horror unsure if you thought he was capable of such violence or that such a thing could actually exist. “You’re town had a problem with one about ten years ago. I thought my father had taken care of it, but obviously Sam and I need to clean up his mess.”

But you kept on your front. “I’m impressed, Winchester. You’ve obviously done your research. Or should I say your father had.” He raised an eyebrow questioning. “Oh, don’t play coy with me. Obviously, no matter how delusional, your basing these murders on lore that fits with the wave of Korean immigrants that came to mine in this town… oh was it… the 1950s?” “Interesting…” Dean pondered. “I wonder if you went back far enough in your police records if you would find the same pattern… maybe this 10 year thing is a hibernation of sorts...” He theorized.

The radio crackled through. “Y/N, you there?”

You grabbed it. “Yeah, go ahead.” Normally the first thing you would have done was call in the arrest, but you completely glazed over mentioning it now.

“Animal control got back with us… found fur down one of the holes, fox…” They explained over the radio, you gulped down your nerves trying to remain calm. “And, I don’t know… only prints around here we could find where the ground keeper’s… he doesn’t have much else to go one the women… expect dark hair and a long white dress.” 

You made eye contact with Dean through the rearview mirror.

Another officer laughed. “Heh, maybe it was a ghost.”

“Shut up, Marc!” Another cop barked.

“Anyways, we can stake out the night if you think it’s worth following up on.”

You looked at Dean for guidance, he nodded his head. “Yeah, go ahead. It can’t hurt.” You ordered. “But for the love of god, if that over tanned ape of a man shows up, do not engage.” You referred to your favorite news anchor. “I’m going off air for a while. Call my cell in case of emergency.”

“Sure thing boss.” Marc followed up before you clicked off.

“Dean…” You turned back around to meet his eyes. “Let’s say your right... Let’s say I go against my every instinct that says you or your brother somehow planted that fur there…  Where would we start?”

“We go looking for it’s den.” He calmly directed.

Either you were going mentally insane or Dean Winchester was telling the truth. Regardless of which one was right, you were about to place this entirety of this case in the hands of your number one suspect.

-----

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More Parts to Come

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[tattoosandporcelain-blog]

Journal Entry #1 I don’t know where I went so wrong.  I mean, I do.  I just choose not to think about it often because if I do, I’m going to run away and never look back and that’s just no good for either of us.  I know this man.  I know what makes him tick.  I know his fears and his hopes and his dreams and I know what he needs most in this world.  I know what life looks with him and I know what it looks like without him and I know that I don’t want to ever feel the without him part again.  I know that in his love, it is the warmest place in the world, but when I find myself caught in the cut of his eyes, or in his absence, it is the coldest place I’ve ever known.

That day, I was excited.  I had just finished laying the eighth track for my first album.  Barron was there in the studio, just behind the glass where I could see him and he could see me.  Eyes were made between us as I began.  The song was one that I’d never let him hear as it was meant to be a surprise.  Though I always thought I’d wait until it was on the album for him to hear it, there was something else that struck me that morning.  He had a random day off from school and it was all too perfect as it was that track that would be laid that day.  I asked him to come to the studio and gave him a time and when he arrived, the pieces came together.

It was a scene from a movie, of that I was sure, as this moment couldn’t really be happening.  I sang.  I sang for him.  I sang from the depths of my soul.  I laid it all out there on the track and it fell together perfectly.  I could see the elation in the eyes of those behind the glass as the song came to a close.  I knew.  I knew from within the sound booth without ever needing to hear the playback.  When I came out, I was into his arms instantly without hesitation.  Holding onto him, one of the producers asked if I’d like to hear the playback.  I’d declined, but it was Barron that would say that I needed to, knowing I’d be pleased.  I agreed and three and a half minutes later, I was on a high that no drug could have ever brought me.  

I wanted to celebrate.  Dinner and a glass of champagne was on my mind and then all at once, I was onto something else.  The subject matter was something I’d thought on briefly before, but never had I breathed a word of it.  Barron had been back for five months and ever since, we’d been on what I’d call our best run yet.  Things were coming together for us.  We were moving in together.  We were being open with one another.  I was being open.  And in my openness, I’d spill words that I swore I’d never be the one to speak.  “Let’s go to Vegas, get dinner, and get married right after.  I could cancel recording tomorrow, right?” The faces in the studio were ones of surprise as they’d watch on, not entirely sure if I was serious in that moment, but one man in the room knew I was.  He watched carefully, giving up a nod of his head to tell me that yes, I could cancel recording if that’s what I wanted to do.

‘I’m cool with anything as long as the place doesn't have little food on big plates.  Then we can go adopt a Cambodian kid and top it all off right.  Maybe invite a few photographers too. What's the worse that can happen?’

In that moment, I’d realize he didn’t think I was serious.  He thought I was just joking around, but I couldn’t have been more serious.  Perhaps it was my elation that would make for a confusing moment for the man, but if he met my eyes, he’d find I’d never been more serious in my life.  We had danced with one another for six years now and for me, I wanted to dance with him for eternity, and no one else.  I wanted to celebrate in the only way that would truly top laying that track. I wanted to marry the love of my life.  The only man who had ever /known/ me.  The only man that had ever held my affection.   “I’m serious.  No Cambodian kid and no photographers.  These guys in here’ll be the only ones that even know and they won’t tell anyone.  Will ya?  We’re only gonna live once and we already know we want to do it together.  So c’mon.  Let’s do it.  Forget all that tradition.  Hell, everyone already knows we’re going to sooner or later.  So let’s do sooner rather than later.  Give ourselves more time together to enjoy it.”  

‘Alright, alright...a Vietnamese kid.  This is the part where you offer an Elvis impersonator…’

And all at once it was gone.  His mention of an impersonator of his own grandfather solidified it for me.  He still didn’t believe me.  He still thought it was a joke.  Maybe he thought in that moment that I was a joke.  I can’t be sure, but in that moment, I back tracked.  I went back to the restaurant list that had started the ideas of celebrating, though it was truly just an escape card from the recording studio that would now hold one of my most painful memories, most embarrassing moments, within it.  

We didn’t make it halfway out of the building before I was turning to him, unable to carry through with just going to dinner with this hanging between us.  For him, it might have been alright in that moment if I’d just left it alone, but leaving something out there like that was going to do neither of us any favors as it would be ripping me apart from the inside.  I’m such a fucking idiot.  “Baby, if you’re not ready, then I understand, but I need you to know something.  I wasn’t fucking around back there.  I don’t want to go to Gramercy Tavern tonight.  I want to marry you.  I want to marry you now and I’ve wanted to marry you for the last two months.  I haven’t said anything until now because I wanted to be sure and my God, Barron, I’m sure.  Girls don’t do this and I know why they don’t do this, but I’m doing it.  In the recording studio.  In a creative planning office.  No joking, no Elvis impersonators, no photographers, no children.  I want to marry you.  I’m not pregnant and I’m not dying and there’s no trick happening here.  I really, really just want to marry you.  To be your wife and you my husband.  I want to hop a plane and fly to Vegas and I want to marry you before midnight.”

The look in his eyes in that moment was one of complete vulnerability directly followed by humiliation.  All at once he’d realize what had happened moments before.  All at once he’d realize that I’d put him in what might’ve been the worst situation I’d ever put him in, yet it was never designed to be that way.  ‘Girls don't do what?  Put the person they want to marry on the spot in front of a room in front of her peers like a lil' kid askin' for a fuckin' sleep over? Embarrass me in front of how many people? Make me look like a complete fuckin' idiot? All because I thought I had an understandin' how this relationship had always worked. How /we/ work. At our own time, in our own way. Away from all this other shit. You've got to be fuckin' kidding me? I'm not doing shit.’

And then he was gone.  He turned away and he left the building.  I tried to stop him with a whisper at my lips, but before I could do anything more, he was gone.  Instantly, a scream left my lips that everyone on that floor of the label would hear.  It wouldn’t come as any epic surprise to anyone who had just witnessed what had happened in the studio as us leaving for dinner seemed to be all too calm for a situation such as that.  But here, they’d get that reaction they knew was festering deep within me.  The gut wrenching scream of absolute pain as it radiated through my body.  I watched his back as he walked out on me.  It was a sight I’d seen many times before, and yet never before had it cut so deeply as it did in this moment.  Here, he’d finally break me.  Or did I break him?  

Over an hour later, I’d finally pick myself up off the floor and go outside to find him there in the parking lot, laid out in the backseat of his SUV, high.  We didn’t talk about it.  We didn’t talk about anything.  To this day, it hasn’t been talked about and it’s been over a month now.  I try not to think about it because thinking about it means remembering it and remembering it means feeling it.  I wonder if he does though.  I wonder if he thinks about it and feels that humiliation he felt once he realized I wasn’t playing.  I wonder if he hates me for it.  I wonder if he hears my scream in his head when he looks at me.  I wonder if he feels my heart breaking in that very moment.  I wonder if he remembers it like I do.  I wonder if he thinks about it often or if he’s blocked it from his mind.  I wonder if he feels like I do.

A month has passed and although I’ve done my best not to think about it, it still comes up from time to time.  The last couple of days it has been on my mind more than it should have been and I’ve used just about every outlet in the world to try to get rid of it, but nothing is working.  I was so sure that he’d say yes.  I don’t know why but I was.  I knew how he felt about marriage and relationships and I knew the fears he had about it all ruining us.  But I also had this faith in us that we could do it better.  We could do it and not destroy ourselves and everyone else in the process.  I still have this faith in us.  I know that it’s terrifying to promise yourself to one person.  I know that things get tense between us at times.  I know that it means when one of us is off, the other will feel it.  I know that it means giving up on being selfish as every motion we would take from that moment on would be about us instead of just one or the other.  I know that it means that we no longer function as two individuals, but as a unit.  I know all of these things and yet, that’s what I want.

Maybe it’s what I want because that’s what it’s been for me already.  Even in our times apart, when I find myself trying not to think of what he’s doing or who he might be with, I am faithful to him emotionally as I am physically.  Sometimes I think maybe he’s done the same thing as I can’t imagine that man looking at another.  I can’t imagine him touching another person aside from me.  If I told the truth, that’s what I think.  I think that our connection is such that he couldn’t.  He wouldn’t.  He wouldn’t hurt me like that even if we were technically apart because in my mind, we’ve never been apart and we never will be apart.  From the time I was two years old, I’ve been with that boy in one way or another.  He’s the only boy I’ve ever looked at the way I look at him.  He was my first crush.  He was my first love.  He was my first kiss.  He was my first.  He is my only crush.  He is my only love.  He is my only kiss.  He is my only.  And I think the same is true for him.

So why not?  Why not jump off the deep end when we know ourselves the way we do?  Why not take that plunge and completely put our faith in one another?  He already knows I’m not going anywhere.  I never have and I never will.  I’m here.  With him.  Constantly.  I don’t know why he said no.  I don’t know if that means that he’s just not ready right now or if that means he never will be.  I don’t know if that means that he doesn’t have enough faith in himself, in us, or… in me.  I don’t know if he’s just scared.  I don’t know if he’s not ready to put his name next to mine in that manner.  I don’t know what any of it means, but I just know that since that day, with it falling silent for a month, with the topic not talked about, not discussed, just out there somewhere in space, I feel inadequate.  I feel like I’m the reason.  I feel like if I did this or that differently or more often or at all, then maybe. I feel like there is some reason that is stopping us and in that, he’s not giving it to me.  I feel like there’s got to be some other reason and it’s not just how I asked him.  I didn’t mean to ask in that moment and he knows that now, but a part of me wonders… if after six years, he can’t marry me, will he ever?

I am trying.  I am trying so hard to be patient and wait for him.  I am hoping that one day he’ll want what I want the way I want it.  I am hoping that he’ll come to me and say those words.  I am hoping that he’ll take my face into his hands and tell me that he wants no other for the rest of his days.  I am hoping that he can tell me that I’m it for him and put his signature behind it. I am hoping that one day, he just looks at me, and in that moment he knows that this is it, we are it, and that he wants me to be his wife.  

In the aftermath of it all, I find myself insecure.  I suppose I always was on some level, but this has taken it to a whole other level.  I find myself wanting to impress him in ways I never tried to before.  I find myself pushing myself harder and harder and if I’m honest, I don’t know if I can run this race forever with no hope of getting there.  I want to say that if things stay as they are right now that it is more than enough. I want to say that I’m happy for what I have with him.  I want to say that I can spend the rest of my days with him, just as we are, and know exactly what it is that we have and be confident in that without worry or concern.  I want to say that no matter how long we stay at this stage that I know he loves me.  That I know what I am to him.  I want to say that marriage is nothing more than a piece of paper. I want to say that I am blessed to have him in my life the way he is there now and that it is a life worth living.  I want to say…

That I’m sad.  I hide it most of the time.  I smile and I laugh and I try to be there for him for whatever it is that he wants to do.  I will watch movies.  I will read on his lap.  I will do lego sets with him.  I will hold him.  I will travel with him and dream with him.  I will walk this line with him for as long as he wants to walk it this way, but all the while, it is with this knowledge somewhere in the back of my mind that we can’t take it to that next step.  The next logical step.  Our days and our lives are already so intertwined with one another that it’s been expected for years that we’d do it.  I’ve never thought we should do it when others thought we should.  I’ve always said if it ever happened, it would be in our time when we were ready.  But I’m ready.  I’ve been ready.  And I really just need this boy to be there with me.  

I’m devoted to him just as I always will be.  I have no plans of ever being anywhere else and he knows this.  I believe he has no plans of ever being anywhere else either and I hold onto it.  But it doesn’t stop the voices in my head.  It doesn’t stop the doubts.  It doesn’t stop me from wondering what it is that is wrong with us, with me, that we aren’t there yet.  I knew three years ago that I wanted to marry this man, but we were younger and had barely gotten into the world.  I never brought it up, but sometimes I thought I saw it in his eyes too.  Sometimes I swear I could taste the words in his kiss.  Sometimes even now, I swear I see it in his eyes when he’s taking care of me, when he’s reassuring me, when he’s pulling me into him.  

Or maybe I’m just seeing things that aren’t there.  Maybe I’m hearing things that don’t exist.  Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic who thinks you can meet someone in your life, fall in love slowly, and then spend the rest of your lives together as husband and wife.  Maybe I’m an idiot.  Scratch that.  I am an idiot.  But I’m not sure what I’m a bigger idiot for… for still wanting all of these things or for not speaking up about them?  

I’m afraid.  I’m afraid to say anything about any of this and have it all blow up in my face.  I’m afraid that the door that was once ajar might be closing entirely the moment I breathe the words into life once more.  I’m afraid.  I’m so afraid that we are so fragile that something so simple as me saying again that I want to spend my life with him could send him off once more.  I’m afraid of the door slamming.  I’m afraid of seeing his back as he walks out the door.  I’m afraid that this time, I won’t be able to get up off the floor.  I’m afraid that this time, if I do get up, that he won’t be there when I open the door.  I’m afraid that the door will be bolted, locked, chained closed.  I’m afraid that I’m going to fuck it all up and just like that, six years will be gone.  More than that.  A lifetime will be gone.  Not only would I lose the man that I love.  I would lose the man that I’ve loved for my entire life.  I will lose my best friend.  I will lose the only person that knows what I’m thinking without me saying a word.  I will lose the person that can make it all better in a single moment.  I will lose the one person that I’ve always been able to count on to be there.  I will lose my life.

I’m afraid of what will happen to him on the other side of that door.  I’m afraid of someone else finding him.  If they do, they’ll find out just how great he is and maybe he’ll find out that I wasn’t so great after all.  Maybe he’ll find out that what he got with me can be found in someone else.  Maybe he’ll find someone that he can love.  Maybe he’ll find someone that he can settle down with.  Maybe he’ll find someone that he can spend the rest of his life with.  Maybe he’ll find someone he can marry.  And that someone will be everything I never was.  That someone will be the luckiest girl in the entire world.  That someone will know just what she has and just what to say and just how to hold him.  That someone will not be insecure.  That someone will be the most confident woman in the world because she’ll have the love of a man that loved me first.  She’ll be able to say she wasn’t his first, but she was his last, and I’ll be the one they never mention.  I’ll be the song on the radio that he turns the channel on, but never says quite why.  I’ll be the one that he thinks of and remembers in shadows, but it won’t be fondly.  I’ll be the girl that pushed him away because somewhere in the middle of it all, I just wanted too much.  I wanted it all.  I wanted it all with him.  And I still do.

-March 23, 2017

#ionlyaskthatyouwontgoagain #imightbeenoughforyou #memphis #insights #2017