#so i thought hey. might as well offer Yet Another Snippet! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nerdypanda3126 · 1 year

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@quickspinner tagged me for this game!

Rules: Pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the midpoint, pick a line (or a few), and share it! Then tag people!

Aaaaand I don’t know if you’ve been tagged yet but how about @chrwrites @livrever and @freedom-shamrock (no pressure at all 💖)

I posted these in no certain order, just as I thought of them, and they’re all lukanette endgame! 😊 (snippets under the cut)

Heart i’s | Rated T | 1,775 words | Oneshot

Marinette set her cup down with a little snap on the table. “Okay, fine, you’re right, I like him, okay? The reason we come here for our coffee dates is so I can see him, and I come here specifically when I know he’s working, and sometimes I sit here for hours pretending to sketch, but I’m really waiting until he has a second to come sit with me, and sometimes we end up talking a lot, and sometimes I think about kissing him, and sometimes I wish I had the guts to tell him, ‘hey, I have a major crush on you, would you want to go out sometime when you’re not working?’ but I don’t, and he doesn’t like me like that, so I’m not going to say anything so I can keep coming here and dreaming about him in peace and why are you still laughing?”

Alya pointed behind her and Marinette spun in her chair only to come face to face with Luka. He was frozen in shock, it seemed, a pace or two behind her, holding another cup.

“I… you… heard all that, huh?” Marinette asked, biting her lip. He nodded as a cute pink tinge started to creep over the tops of his cheeks.

A Pink Ribbon and a Leather Cuff | Rated G | 2,899 words | LBSC Sprint Fics series

“My friend, Alya, she wanted me to… well, you see, I haven’t figured out my mark and it—well, it’s stupid, really, but Alya said that you might, well—not that you might, but that you mentioned you could…” [Marinette] trailed off and tugged at the knot.

[Luka] nodded as if he understood. “Alya, yeah. I remember her. And Nino. She said she might be sending someone my way. Wait right there.” He tapped his fingers rhythmically on the counter and gave her a kind smile before he turned and walked back to the back. She heard him rifling through something and he returned relatively quickly with a few small tubes in his hands.

“Now, before I do any coverups, especially for marks, I always recommend…” He eyed her forearm then switched through a couple, setting them down beside him as he seemed to rule them out. He settled on one and offered it to her. “I always recommend covering it up with this for a while first. Less permanent, and if you decide you want it after all, then no harm done.”

With trembling fingers, she took the tube of foundation he was offering her.

Little Blue | Rated T | 47,144 words | Multichapter

As soon as Marinette closed the car door after herself, she had a sudden realization.

“Oh my God, Alya... I just kissed [Luka].”

Alya grinned as she looked Marinette up and down. “Just kissed him, huh? So what’s with the outfit?”

Marinette looked down at herself. While she was rushing out the door, she had entirely forgotten she was wearing Luka’s clothes. She groaned and held up her crumpled dress. Neither option was a great look for her first day. “This is a total disaster! What am I supposed to do?”

Alya backed out of her spot and started driving towards Gabriel. “What you do is you throw those heels on and you rock it. It’s fashion, right?”

“I guess....”

“You’re the designer, you make the trends now. You never know, the ‘day after’ look might be the next big thing.” Alya flashed a smirk over at Marinette as she executed a turn.

“Day after…?” She looked down again. “Oh. My. God. Alya, I didn’t—I mean, we didn’t—I mean—nothing happened!”

Playing with Fire | Rated T | 28,293 words (and counting) | Multichapter

[Marinette’s] hands stilled on [Luka’s] shoulders. He was close, so close. And standing there in front of her and looking at her like that. Her breath caught before she could help it. His long fingers reached up to touch her stone. Glowing like a hot red ember, matching his. Her fingers curled into the fabric at his shoulders and she bit her lip nervously.

Hesitantly, he reached up and pulled her lip out from between her teeth, pausing after he did to swipe his thumb across it gently. His tongue darted out between his lips and he sucked in a breath before he leaned down.

She didn’t know what she expected, but her fluttering heart sank to her stomach when he hesitated and changed trajectory, his lips landing on her forehead instead of…

He pulled away, smiling sadly, and paused again to look at her. “Come on,” he said softly, “we’d better head out while we have the light.”

And with that, he took a step back and turned to lead the way down the stairs, leaving her feeling oddly bereft.

Pouring Alcohol on an Old Flame | Rated T | 3,682 words | Oneshot

"Why are you looking at me like that?" [Luka] asked, and with a start [Marinette] realized it was her turn to answer.

She was definitely blushing as she took her third shot of the evening, trying and failing to hide her embarrassed smile behind her glass. She was starting to feel pleasantly warm and heavy, but her shoulders had relaxed for the first time in what felt like ages. Even though things had started out rocky that evening, Luka had always been easy to talk to, alcohol or not, and the alcohol was definitely enhancing that effect.

He reached over again to take her glass and his fingers barely brushed against hers, making her heartbeat start to pound uncomfortably in her throat.

"Your turn," he reminded her as he set her full glass back down. She eyed the glass in front of him. Was it his second or his third? Either way he was falling behind. She bit her lip and tried to think of a question that would make him drink again. That stunned look he'd given her when he first saw her came back to her. How quickly he'd replaced it with that smirk.

"What were you thinking about when you saw me tonight?"

A Game of Snake and Mouse | Rated T | 9,188 words | Multichapter | LBSC Sprint Fics series

“I really like kissing you, too,” [Marinette] said, which made [Luka’s] heart leap into his throat. “And I…” She bit her lip again as she met his eyes. “I don't care who knows it. If that’s okay with you, too.”

His head was swimming and his heart was soaring and somewhere in the middle of all that his mouth managed to say “Yes,” so emphatically that she squeaked again before tumbling down into his lap to pull his face back to hers.

As he pressed kiss after kiss into those lips he’d only dreamt about for so long, his dopey grin came back before he could stop it. He tangled his fingers in her hair and deepened the kiss, only vaguely registering that her hands were smoothing along his chest and shoulders before she slid them up to clasp around his neck, holding him to her.

He didn’t care if he passed out from lack of oxygen, he wasn’t going to relinquish her lips first.

Humming | Rated G | 3,089 words | Oneshot | Moments series

“Y-you’re tired. I can take care of this.”

“Marinette, I’m fi—”

“No, you're not.” She fell to sit next to [Luka] and he turned to face her, crossing his ankle under his knee as he did and simultaneously putting a respectful space between them. He draped his arm across the back of the couch, though, so his fingers were a stretch away from brushing against her shoulder. Marinette bit her lip and glanced down at her hands in her lap. “I-I can… tell," she continued. "You worry so much about everyone else, and make sure they're taken care of. But you're wearing yourself too thin, taking everything on your shoulders like this. You need to take a break sometimes, too."

He hummed and turned his face to the window. She snuck a glance at him; he had his eyes closed as he raised his face to the sunlight that was filtering into the room. His tension left him as he took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out through his mouth. His shoulders relaxed; that small, unconscious smile came back; and he hummed again, in pleasure this time instead of in thought. When he opened his eyes again, he turned them on her, and his smile grew when he noticed she had been watching him.

Anywhere with You | Rated G | 1,717 words | Oneshot | The Luck of the Draw series

"I like your dress," [Luka] said easily, as if his heart wasn't starting to race under [Marinette’s] ear. "Is it one of yours?"

She shook her head, nuzzling him in the process. "I ran out of time. Bit off more than I could chew, as usual."

"I hope you still finish it. I'm sure it's great."

She shrugged. "Maybe. Seems silly to finish it now."

"There'll be other dances." He shifted against her and she pulled away to look up at him. His cheeks were pink, even though he was keeping his expression as neutral as possible.

"Yeah, and I bet I won't be asked to those either."

"You'll be asked." The corners of his lips were starting to pull up into a smile. "Trust me."

So... That Just Happened | Rated G | 915 words | Oneshot | LBSC Sprint Fics series

[Ladybug] grabbed the lapels of [Luka’s] jacket and tugged him down. He stumbled a bit before he realized that she’d pulled him down so fiercely to smash her lips against his.

He made a rather undignified noise and his eyes widened as his brain slowly processed what was happening. He knew his neck was probably bright red, judging by the heat coming off his ears, but Ladybug didn’t let go. Her ferocity softened and she moved to wrap her arms around his neck instead, pulling him closer.

His hands fell to her waist and tightened reflexively. If this was what Ladybug—what Marinette—wanted, he had no intention of making her stop. Instead he leaned into her, claiming her for himself, smiling only a little at the frantic clicking around them. If he happened to be angling his head so they couldn’t get a good shot of either of their faces, it was purely coincidental.

An Interesting Little Relationship | Rated G | 2,686 words | Oneshot | LBSC Sprint Fics series

The way [Luka] trailed off made Marinette picture him turning that focused gaze of his on his guitar as his jaw tensed, the way he sometimes did when his words failed him. It always made her think he wished he could let the guitar speak for him.

“I mean, she can never have a family with me, we can’t share our lives together,” he continued bitterly after a moment. “Hell, she can’t even tell anyone I exist because they’ll think she’s insane. Or what if I somehow manage to cross over and she’s left to try to figure out how to move on? It’s just…” For once Marinette actually heard him sit heavily on the couch, the leather whooshing out from under him and the supports creaking under the weight of his emotion. “I don’t see the point in telling her.”

There was a long pause and Marinette was starting to wonder if Juleka was even still in the room with him, but then she heard a sharp smack and Luka’s annoyed protest.

“The point,” Juleka shot back with more force in her voice than Marinette was used to hearing, “is that I’m sick of watching you moping around like this. And besides, don’t you think Marinette deserves to know?”

#lukanette #lukanette endgame #endgame lukanette #fic game

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greygullhaven · 3 months

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Ability Research Center Snippet Preview

New chapters posted so that means another random snippet from the story to share! :D https://archiveofourown.org/works/52696273/chapters/133291948

Connor walked off the stage even as the applause and cheers continued. The concert had been long and hard but it had been one of the most successful ones so far as far as no technical issues or unruly fans. Once he was out of sight, he wiped the sweat from his face and gratefully took the water bottle one of the stagehands offered. It was another concert finished and once he had caught his breath, Connor headed back to his private dressing room to see Devon.

With the typical congratulations and thumbs up from the crew, Connor reached his room and gave a knock in case Devon was already there waiting. “Hey D? You here?” he asked as he opened the door and walked in. “Wanted to see what the final tally was for the ticket sales tonight. How did we do?”

“Hey kid I’m in here,” Devon called and waved at Connor as he walked in, “great show tonight kid, you made a killing with the sales! This was one of your best yet. I gotta ask, have you given any more thought to the Europe tour that the label wants you to do to promote your latest album?”

Connor beamed proudly at that. “The crowd seemed really into it, more so than usual. And Tom from merchandise said he actually sold out of a few things tonight!” Connor walked over to the mini fridge and grabbed one of the bottles of beer from it and then sat down in his oversized chair.

“Yeah, I think we definitely need to do the tour. First one of that scale so if the label is willing to go with it that will get a hell yeah from me” Connor said as he took a drink, knowing that one was all he could have - for now. He still had a meet and greet to get to in a little bit.

“Trust me kid if you keep going the way you are, between ticket sales and merchandise, the sky’s the limit,” Devon smiled as he finished the tally of the sales. “And the label wants you to step up with the interviews as well, so I’ve booked you some of the morning chat shows next week. This is going to be huge, just the push we have been waiting for!”

Connor made a small face at that last bit. He liked the music and performing. Talking to people was another thing and especially when he had no choice in who he had to talk to. But he knew Devon was right and that it was what the label wanted and what he had to do. He’d just make the best of it.

“You’ll give me the basic script to stick to right?” he asked with a small smirk, knowing that Devon was fully aware of how easily he could get off on tangents during interviews. “And security will be there too right? I’d rather not have to deal with that crazy stalker on my own if she shows up!”

“She won’t get anywhere near you,” Devon promised, “and security will be with you at all times. I will personally make sure you’ll have a ready to go script, I’ll get our PR team to work on it,” he said. “The label knows if you work hard at this, you might even get album of the year, I’ve heard sales are doing extremely well on the global charts as well. They will absolutely adore any positive publicity we can give them right now.”

Connor nodded in approval as he enjoyed his beer. “Definitly won’t complain about that!” he laughed. “I’ll get with the PR and marketing team in a day or two and we can start hammering something out and working out the details. I got plans after the meet and greet tonight so I’ll need at least one of the security guys as usual. Got myself a date” he said with a smirk.

Devon grinned at that, “I’ll let security know and make arrangements for you while you’re at the meet and greet. And who’s the lucky lady,” there was a pause, “or guy, I definitely don’t judge,” he added.

“Names James” Connor said with a grin. “He’s actually been to a couple of the shows and meet and greets. We’ve talked a bit here and there. Thought he might be one of those stalker types at first but hes never pushed or done any of the creepy stuff ya know? At the last show, he asked me for a date and figured why not?”

“Well enjoy yourself kid you’ve earned it,” Devon grinned, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he added with a wink as he went up to grab himself a beer from the fridge.

Connor lifted the mostly empty beer bottle with a grin at that then reached into his pocket and pulled out his lighter and the well-worn tin he usually had in his pocket. He saw Devon’s look as he opened it and took out one of the spliff rolls he had made earlier.

“Oh come on man, don’t give me that look” he said. “I haven't had one since a few hours before the show! You’re gonna make me do the damned meet and greet without it?”

“I’m just trying to look out for you kid,” Devon said, raising his hands in a ‘I surrender’ position. “You know if the label finds out about this they won’t be happy, you signed a contract that said that you wouldn’t bring the label into disrepute. I mean you’re hardly the first musician out there to indulge in these vices but the press will eat you alive if they find out. So, ya know know, go easy and be careful.”

“Fine, fine…” Connor said with a small sigh as he put the tin and lighter back in his pocket. “The things I do for you and the damn label company,” he said, sounding annoyed but there was a slight smirk on his face all the same. “I’ll keep the vices to my personal time” Connor conceded as he finished the beer.

“That’s all I ask kid,” Devon grinned. “Anything that can give us some plausible deniability if the higher-ups start sniffing around, what the suits don’t know won’t hurt them right?”

“I knew there was a reason I liked ya Devon,” Connor said with a laugh as he stood. “Well guess it’s time to start that meet and greet huh?” he asked as he looked at the clock. “Think the paparazzi are around again?”

“I noticed a few of them hanging around the lobby, so you might have a media scrum on your hands on the way to the meet and greet,” Devon said apologetically, “but you know how to handle the press, make sure they can’t get any photos worth selling,” he said with a grin.

Read the whole story here!

#primeval #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #primeval fandom #primeval fanfiction

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glimmerglanger · 3 years

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Soooo…….HotR Codywan proposal snippet if you’re still taking requests? I feel like they’d be absolute saps about it and I am Soft

OOOOOH! Oh! They're going to be SUCH saps, fair warning! Let's have some family time and sweetness and a proposal on this fine Friday morning! (No spice in this snippet, only SWEET).

~~~~~~~

Autumn slipped away, eventually, and Cody wasn’t sorry to see it go. Ben’s civil case wrapped up towards the end of the season, leaving him with enough funds to cover the memorial costs for his uncle and some extra, besides.

Mostly, he knew Ben put the money towards his school expenses and loans, though he also insisted on paying half when they bought a new bed for Cody’s place, replacing the one they’d broken so impressively.

Winter brought with it true cold, the dropping temperatures no longer teasing at freezing. Often, the sun didn’t rise until long after Cody was already up and working, but he was used to that.

And he had someone warm to curl up with in bed after a long and chilly day, burying his nose against the back of Ben’s neck so many nights.

Ben mostly slept over at the ranch, though he’d kept the apartment. He said, when they discussed it again, that he thought he ought to at the least keep it until the end of the school year. He’d stayed there through most of his work during finals, but….

But, in general, he went to sleep beside Cody and woke up beside Cody. In general, he was there, sharing meals just the two of them or with the rest of the family, going to the triplet’s games, or taking Anakin for walks with Boba.

He was there on New Year’s Eve, watching with a bemused expression as Boba and the triplets helped Jango load fireworks into the back of the four-wheeler.

“Aren’t fireworks...generally a summertime thing?” Ben asked, leaning against the porch as they loaded up box after box.

“New Years is during the summer where I grew up,” Val said, coming down the steps, offering out steaming cups of coffee - decaf, Cody hoped - as she did. “Jango and I were used to New Year's fireworks. So…” She shrugged.

“Do you do this every year?” Ben asked, expression curious, and Cody left them to it, making sure the four-wheeler was appropriately loaded up. He’d handled fireworks the past few years, but Jango wanted to take care of setting them off again, with Rex and Ahsoka volunteering to help with the lighting, so…

So, he ended up sitting beside Ben, huddled out on the porch and wrapped up in a blanket as the four-wheeler set off into one of the nearby fields. “Warm enough?” he asked, feeling the heat radiating from Ben’s body, all along his side.

In fact, it didn’t feel that cold on the porch, not with so many of them sitting so close together. But the air bit, still, cold and crisp, even with the blanket of clouds overhead. There’d been flurries, throughout the day, and they were starting to come down more heavily, drifting through the air, heavy and white.

“Mm, yes,” Ben said, arm curled around him, shifting to make room for Wooley on the step below them. He looked tired - but nearly midnight was late for both of them, early risers by nature and habit - with darkened circles under his eyes.

“We’ll go to sleep, after this,” Cody promised him, and got a smile in return, sweet and fleeting.

“No sleeping yet,” Val said, wading through the pile of them, followed by Bly, who started handing out cups. They didn’t keep champagne flutes or even enough wine glasses. Everyone got what was available, coffee cups, tall glasses, and even a few mason jars, already filled.

Most of them contained sparkling grape juice.

Cody and Ben got champagne, by the smell of it, and Ben raised an eyebrow. “Don’t drink yet,” Cody told him, with a little grin, and Ben huffed a laugh, opening his mouth, only to be cut off by Echo, who stood quickly, holding up a hand.

“Get ready!” Echo shouted, everyone shifting around, vibrating when he started counting backwards from ten.

Cody nudged Ben at one, gesturing to his cup, and they all managed to drink more or less on time as, off in the fields, the first of the fireworks went off with a flash of brilliant color and a crash of sound.

Ben made a sound, both surprised and delighted, and Cody set down his glass, curled an arm around Ben’s shoulders, and pulled him over, kissing him as the first seconds of the new year ticked over, feeling something stretch out, filling up the entirety of the space inside his ribs, realization unfolding not in a flash but in a sweet, inevitable wave.

He stared at Ben, when they pulled apart, Ben turning to watch the fireworks lighting up the night, and knew that he wanted to kiss Ben every New Year’s for the rest of their lives, wanted to sit and watch fireworks with him, hold him after a long day at work, eat breakfast beside him--

“Hey, man, fireworks are that way,” Fives hissed in his ear, at some point, while elbowing him in the ribs, and Cody shoved back at him, but blinked and shook himself, turning his attention to the show up in the sky.

They’d gone all out.

They usually did.

The fireworks echoed out across the fields, the sound held close by the cloud cover. Cody knew, from experience, that there would be cars parked out along the roads leading to the ranch, neighbors and people from further in town, who came out to see the show every year, watching colors chase each other, heralding in another year.

Ponds started the cheer, when the last of the fireworks finished echoing, leaving bright afterimages on the inside of Cody’s eyelids, and they all pushed themselves up, gathering blankets and cups while excitedly talking, half of them cleaning up the porch while the other half of them lit out for the fields, going to help find the firework casings, making sure nothing had landed where it ought not.

Cody ended up standing at the sink, rinsing off glasses that Ben dried, listening in as Echo’s girlfriend - who had never attended before - talked to Ben, her hair pulled back and her cheeks rosy.

He was glad Ben had someone to make conversation with. Cody’s thoughts were buzzing, thrumming along. He felt...not quite distracted. More waiting, with the tension in his gut of anticipation and something larger.

It was snowing in earnest by the time the clean up was finished and Jango, Rex, and Ahsoka returned as conquering heroes, to cheers and applause. The flakes swirled around them when Cody and Ben finally managed to say their good nights, stepping off the porch and heading back to their space.

Cody held Ben’s hand, gloves in the way, both of them leaning together as they crunched across the frozen ground.

Cody made it to his porch before he pulled Ben to a stop, standing there in the softly falling snow and just...looking at him for a moment. Seeing the whole future, spread out around him, feeling - feeling everything, all at once, wild potential just waiting for him to embrace it.

And he’d never been any good at ignoring that feeling, at hesitating once he knew what he wanted. Indecision wasn’t a valuable skill in his career, nor a feeling he’d ever been comfortable with. He exhaled, just looking at Ben for a long moment, lovely and cold and--

Everything he wanted.

“So,” Cody said, tugging on both ends of Ben’s scarf, pulling him in closer, cold noses brushing together when he went on, the words just slipping free, like they were meant to escape his lips, “What would it take to convince you to marry me?”

He was close enough to see Ben blink several times in rapid succession, eyes so clear and so bright, even as Ben asked, “What?”

Cody felt his mouth curve, pulling on the scarf again, stealing a fast kiss as Ben’s hands came up to rest on his sides. “A nice ring?” he asked, thoughts running ahead, wondering what kind of ring Ben might want. Something practical, likely. He wasn’t the ostentatious sort. He kissed Ben again. “A big wedding?” Ben’s hands squeezed, his breath came out in a pant against Cody’s mouth. “A fancy honeymoon?”

“Are you - are you being serious?” Ben asked, voice wavering, and Cody could acknowledge that this was...a bit sudden.

But he knew how he felt. He looked at Ben and saw the future unfurling outwards and wanted it, wanted to make it his, to shape it into being.

He made a rough sound, let go of the scarf to cup Ben’s face, and pulled him into a proper kiss, long and deep. And, when he pulled back, Ben looking dazed, he said, “Yeah, Ben. I’m being serious. What would it take? Tell me, and it’s yours.”

The snow was starting to fall in earnest, thick flakes swirling around them, landing on the copper strands of Ben’s hair and his eyelashes. His cheeks were tinged red from the cold. Maybe from the kiss, but Cody didn’t want to presume.

Not even with Ben swallowing, staring at him without blinking, eyes searching.

Cody wanted to prompt him for an answer, even though it hadn’t been very long, perhaps a heartbeat. Maybe two. And then Ben exhaled shakily and said, voice thick and quiet, “Well. You could ask. Properly.”

Cody groaned, the sound torn from his chest, fingers clenching in Ben’s hair as he rasped, “Will you marry me, Ben?”

He felt Ben shiver, watching his eyes flutter, delightfully, and had a moment to grin - feeling victorious, that same heady kick that came with looking over at the timer during a competition and knowing he had the best time - when Ben murmured, “Yeah, Cody. I will.”

And then Ben was kissing him as the snow swirled around them and the world went on, unnoticed.

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #home (on the range)#the cowboy au #codywan #AND THEY SMOOCH #check your sugar there's a lot of sweetness here

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akumaalert · 3 years

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Snippet of “Awake” - First Chapter of “Divergence”

Hey, all! Wanted to share a snippet of the first chapter (”Awake”) of “Divergence” - a fic that will offshoot from “Heavy Metal Lover.” Note that this is basically a whole spoiler for chapter 20 of “Heavy Metal Lover.” If you’re like me and see random stuff saying “Don’t click if you haven’t read...” and click anyway: Hi! Welcome, chaos lover. If you like this and want to know the context, please feel free to check out the full work on AO3.

“Divergence” should be posted within two weeks and will be open to requests for the reader (”Lucky”) to have different experiences than what she has in the original. This can mean the following:

- AUs

- Re-tellings of certain scenes of the original

- Reader-specific details included in old or new/original scenes (i.e., reader is plus sized, skinny, tall, short, etc.)

- Genderbending of any of the characters

Originally made this Tumblr to share snippets of the stories on...so happy that I could finally do that! If you want to skip writing that was in the story, you can start at “Though sleep pulled at your eyelids...”

Story contains mature elements, swearing, and explicit mention of sex. Please be forewarned.

Looking back, it would only be a wonder that it did not occur sooner.

As soon as you were alone in the bedroom, you took off your shoes and eyed the clothes Heisenberg had provided you from the factory...

...before turning to the tub.

Couldn't hurt to bathe. Love to be clean.

That man is coming back up to this bedroom.

This is the point, self.

The logical side of your brain, for once, remained quiet.

Though you had clearly lost all sense of sensibility, you at least moved the divider to completely block the tub from any but the most determined of views.

The water had been scalding when you got in.

By the time you had bathed and decided that your foolishness had reached its limit, it was stark cold.

"This was stupid," you said. "Fucking stupid. What did I want? Him to join me? This is the universe saying 'Wake the fuck up.'"

Though your fingers were pruned, you dried yourself off and pulled a nightgown from the small cupboard beneath the sink.

Sheer as ever. Fuck's sake. The universe had truly saved you.

Until it hadn't.

Heisenberg rushed into the room like a rocket and you jumped as the door slammed close.

"...you here, Luck?"

"Yeah," you called out. "Um...don't come over here...gotta get dressed real quick."

"...k" called Heisenberg.

Wasting no time, you slid the gown over your body and made sure to fan out the edges as far as they would go.

You needed no mirror to see your nipples proudly displayed through the fabric.

Mouthing a 'fuck' for good measure, you frowned.

"Heisenberg?"

"Yes?"

"Do you...do you mind looking away for a second?"

"From you?"

"Yes."

"...are...are you coming out naked?"

"No," you snapped.

An awkward silence greeted you.

"Heisenberg?"

"Huh?"

"You looking away?"

"Oh. Yeah. You're good now."

Peeking from behind the divider, you only saw Heisenberg's back.

With more speed than you were familiar with, you bolted to the bed and ducked under the covers.

Once secure beneath the pillowy softness, you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay. It’s safe."

You did not miss how Heisenberg whirled around.

"Oh...fuck...that was fast."

"Yeah," you said absently.

"Trying to set a fucking record?"

"Something like that."

"Mmn. I...gotta get changed."

"Okay."

The two of you stared at the other.

"You trying to get a free show or you gonna cover those peepers?"

"...I figured you would go behind the divider."

"The divider is on your side of the bed."

"Oh," you said dumbly. "Oh. Yeah...wait."

Yanking the pillow from underneath your head, you smashed it onto your face above your mouth and pressed down.

Heisenberg chuckled. "Dramatic as hell."

"Doing what you asked of me."

"...didn't formally ask you to...did I?"

Swallowing found your throat on fire.

"Mmn."

"What was that?"

"Mmn," you repeated.

"Heh...don't go into public speaking, kid."

You frowned at the ceiling and the darkness of your eyes.

Instead of speaking, Heisenberg decided to tell you he was done by climbing in the bed beside you. It struck you suddenly that lamps had been placed in the room instead of the candles that the castle was so beset with. But when you removed your pillow, you found yourself met by more muted darkness.

"Sure you okay with this?" asked Heisenberg. "I can fuck off and go into another room. I like to bitch like a drama king, but I don't need anything crazy set up for me."

"Bed is pretty big," you said carelessly. "S'okay. We've been closer."

The chuckle Heisenberg gave was absolutely filthy.

"We have...haven't we?"

The fucking lilt would be the death of you. What a relief it was to blink blindly and stupidly at the man in peace without judgment.

"Hey - last time I'm reminding you...what's your one job?"

"Get you out in the morning," you replied.

"Because?"

"Ah...generators...production line...something about a reset..."

"That's my girl. Nighty night, Luck."

"Night, Heis."

A turn. A breath. A feeling that you would never be able to sleep with the man so close that you could feel his body heat radiating from him like a welcome sign.

But you awoke.

You awoke often.

You awoke in the middle of the night from a dream you could barely recall and all the images of Alcina at the forefront of your mind.

You awoke in Heisenberg's arms and sobbed into his chest as he clung you to him just as sweetly as any of your snowy imaginings.

"Fuck you doing awake? No...shh...it's okay...shh...you're alright. I'm here. I've got you."

Though sleep pulled at your eyelids, you nudged your head up to feel the spikes of Heisenberg's scruff. You had to stay awake. Could not return to sleep and Alcina awaiting you with her long talons and even longer legs.

"Nightmare?"

You nodded into his neck.

"Mmn. Have those myself...think you can go back to sleep? Don't think it's quite time for me to leave yet if you just wanna yak about it or something."

Swallowing, you exhaled. "Don't wanna go back to sleep."

With a grunt, Heisenberg sat up to leave you curled on the sheets.

"Just checking the time..."

When Heisenberg turned to pull something from the floor, you noticed that your eyes had somewhat adjusted to the dark. Enough so that you saw the loose movements of his arms and realized that he had gone to bed without a shirt.

"Fuck...two in the morning..."

"I'm sorry," you said, tensing. But Heisenberg was mumbling and coming back to you with open arms. "Sorry I woke you..."

"S'alright," he said, yawning afterward. "Gotten less sleep and done more stupid things after than make sure the reset doesn't fuck up the factory..."

As he spoke, you could feel one of his hands rubbing up and down your arm a bit too roughly. An awkward and well intended move to comfort you.

"Still...I'm sorry...you need all the sleep you can manage to get. I don't know how much work the whole factory thing will be..."

"Honestly not much as long as I get back in time," he said, hand squeezing your arm for good measure before returning to that same rough rubbing motion. "Could probably even come back here afterwards...heh...that would spook that sixty-foot snake."

You laughed a sleepy laugh and settled further into his grasp.

"Mmn...like a fucking little bunny...cuddling into me and shit..."

"I can stop...pull away..."

Heisenberg's hand stopped rubbing you in favor of clutching you to him.

"Shh...you're talking nonsense. Need some sleep."

"Heis..."

"Shhh..."

"Heis, you can just tell me that you like it when we cuddle."

When he tsked and laid his chin on your head, you smiled. It felt so much like that day at the stronghold.

"Why would I say that? Not in the business of lying to people."

Lying...yes...because what we are doing now is causing you so much distress...

"Well," you said, smiling. "I'll say it then. I like it when we cuddle. Especially in bed. Feels more comfy than cuddling in front of the lycans."

A shiver - as though Heisenberg had been beset by the cold - ran through his body.

"Oof...y'okay?"

"Yeah, yeah..." he said absently. "Uh...actually...we might wanna go to sleep after all..."

"Mmn?"

"Yeah...early morning..."

"You mind if I hold onto you for a while? This...this actually helps from the nightmare."

The only way you knew how to describe Heisenberg in that moment was jittery. His movements were fine on their own but were conducted with such awkward quickness as to be alarming.

When he did not answer you, you looked up at him through the dark.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

A beat of silence and then another.

"Nothing's wrong." Quick words to match his quick movement.

"Heisenberg..."

"It's Heis."

"...you...Heis...something isn't right. Just talk to me. In English, preferably."

What you could only assume was a curse in German fell from his lips.

"I...fuck's sake, buttercup...I don't know how to...if you...this was such a bad idea...so fucking STUPID."

"What?" You paused, gathering enough evidence from his huff. "Sleeping together?"

"Yes."

"It was your idea."

"I FUCKING KNOW THAT, OKAY?" he hissed. "Just...I thought...earlier...it made more sense...this made more sense..."

"Glad something did because I am completely and utterly confused," you admitted.

"You're confused? You started flirting with me." Heisenberg grumbled something low and rough. "Fucking gave me ideas...false hope...so I thought...guh I'm such a fucking idiot..."

Hope began to fuel you too. Fuel you and feed into the most terrible of terrific ideas.

"Are you...whatever you're trying to say...I was flirting with you. That wasn't false. Honestly...I was in the bathtub just moments before you came in hoping you would join me."

"...you what now?"

You could not help but laugh. The fact that you could not see Heisenberg's expressive face only added to the hilarity as you imagined a hundred different emotions running through that scarred skin.

"I took a bath...a long one...hoping that you would come up here in the middle of it and offer to join me...figured one thing could lead into another and the bed was here anyway..."

The pauses in between Heisenberg's voice could only endear you to him. He seemed every bit lost for words.

"You...are you talking about...what are you talking about?"

"Sleeping with you," you supplied with a shrug. "What are you talking about?"

"Sleeping...you...ah...I wasn't...I wasn't mistaken? Shit...I...I may or may not have a fucking stiffy over here...because the cuddling is...something you enjoy so much."

"Oh?" you purred. The chance of escaping in the delights of Heisenberg’s body made your body positively teem with anticipation. But you could not forget your own actions...the last time you had seen him in such a vulnerable state. Losing some confidence, you glanced at the darkness of the bed instead of his body. "Umm...I want to touch you...want to...would it be okay if I touched you?"

"Yeah...course. You've touched me before."

"No...I mean...is it...fuck...can I jack you off?"

For a long while, Heisenberg said nothing.

The next thing you heard was a rattling spit.

"OUCH GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKER!" he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"Pinched myself."

"You...why are you pinching yourself?"

"Because I'm clearly fucking awake but clearly dreaming at the same time because yes, I would enjoy that very much. Please. And thank you."

"Are...are you sure?"

Heisenberg's hand came down heavy but without malice on your neck.

"OW!"

"Shit...I was trying to grab your hand."

Providing your hand to his, you hitched a breath when he splayed it against his chest. His heartbeat thudded against your palm. Wrenching your knees upward, you brushed against that heated length between his legs.

"I...um...we should probably talk about boundaries before I do this."

"Huh?"

"Is this...are you okay with me just jacking you off?"

"Just? This is a goddamn holiday. Marking it on the calendar. Nothing little about it."

"Dumbass. That's not what I'm saying," you said, scratching his chest somewhat affectionately to show him that you meant no harm. "Do you...are you wanting anything more? Because I'm on my period...I'm up for it...but it might get messy and I know that's the last mess I want a certain someone finding."

"We...we can do more? More like..." You heard him take in a shaky inhale. "Can we...is like full blown intercourse on the table?"

"Sure...long as you don't call it that again," you said, shaking your head.

Grumbling and tensing his shoulders, Heisenberg whined when you dropped your touch to round one of his nipples.

"What the fuck else am I supposed to call it?"

"Sex. Fucking. Making love," you added jokingly. "Um...ah...you know...I hadn't thought about it, but maybe you genuinely didn't know. German to English...or...ah...Romanian to English. Might not have those words."

"I like making love," he said with certainty in his voice. "Let's do that. Make love."

You had expected him to laugh at that suggestion if he acknowledged it at all. But there he was giddy and practically giggling over the most flowery option he was given.

"Okay...are there any places that you don't like being touched?"

"Not that I know of," he admitted. "Are there...is there somewhere I shouldn't touch you?"

"Not necessarily...just...no going down on me this time. Sex is one thing-"

"Making love."

"-us um...us making love is fine, but I don't want to get eaten out while my period is going on. And don't show me your dick after or comment on the blood...just...get rid of it. Please. And...and nothing too crazy to start out with. I'm not a prude, but don't want to be choked or anything harsh like that. Just...vanilla for our first go. Then we can see where things take us."

"Roger that! Heard loud and clear," he said, leaning his face to kiss your forehead. For all the lack of a relationship, Heisenberg was making you feel far much more mushy and cared for than your ex ever had. You let your hand round his stomach slow and soft in response.

"Thank you. We...if you want to, I'll jack you off for a bit before you grab the condom."

"The...I don't have one of those."

That made you freeze.

"Not even in this room? Your chambers? If you don't feel like getting up, I can grab them from wherever they are."

Heisenberg went uncharacteristically quiet.

"Heis?"

"None in this room," he said plainly.

"I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable by asking...but...is that typical? You having sex without a condom?"

It worried you. Here you were all too willing to have him fuck you into the mattress while he could be having all sorts of unprotected sex with who knows who in the village. He was attractive - a lord. Anyone with a pair of eyes could easily fall in lust if not love with him.

Anyone with ears too...fucking sexy ringmaster voice...

"Not typical, no."

"No? Has it just...been a while?"

"Never."

"Huh?"

"Never made love before."

That sent you sitting up in bed.

"WHAT?"

"What?"

"HEISEN..." you lowered your voice, realizing he was growing tense. "You've never...I don't believe you. Quit joking. Not the time."

"Not joking," he grumbled. "Why would I joke about that?"

"You're just..."

"I'm what?"

"You're you," you said as if it clarified anything at all. "You're a lord in a small town. You have a face of a model. Not...not trying to open old wounds, but you're absolutely gorgeous underneath all those layers..."

"Yeah," he snorted. "Fatass McGee will be strutting the runways any day now."

"Oh my god...you're serious." Lying back down, you brought your hand to the clothed length between his legs. He had grown noticeably more soft since the brush of your knee, but you could feel his cock twitch when you cupped him. "So...no one? Not even foreplay or...what about kissing?"

"...ahhh...nah...none of that either...you're probably the first person to see me naked since I was a little kid...well...maybe a few folks in Constantinople. Got sloshed one time and woke up naked tied to a lamppost. But...other than that...all you."

There seemed to be no end to the surprises that would fall from Heisenberg's mouth. You stared at him - or the inky shadow that was him - and ran teasing fingers up his shaft.

"I uhh...fuck...I'm pretty sure anyone who saw me then is dead by now though," he supplied.

"Heis...you're so fucking ridiculous."

#heavy metal lover #divergence #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you

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bvccy · 3 years

Text

Nothing to Despair | Preview 1 / Work In Progress

PAIRING: Soft!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before are asked, because of their language skills, to go undercover as married on a two-week mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, and notices his partner feels similarly isolated. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily persuaded.

RATING: it's pretty naughty but there's no bad words so Idk

WARNINGS: None, just softness and kissings and the hint of unrequited love

WORD COUNT: 2K

A/N: I'm currently working on something new, and as it might be a W H I L E until it's ready to post, I thought I'd share a snippet to tide you over. Now, the rest of it is only partly done, but I’ll just say I made myself cry while writing it. You’re all going to suffer, it’s gonna be GREAT. It starts soft and angsty but it will get very dark and smutty. On that note, do let me know if you’d like to be tagged once the full thing is published. It’s gonna be also on AO3 anyway.

Enjoy! :D

While he waited in his room for her to finish getting dressed, he was actually grateful to see Steve had texted him. Bucky read the message in passing then called without thinking.

"Hey, bud." came Steve's voice, happy but surprised and sounding just a bit tired. "Was afraid I wouldn't catch you in time."

"Hi, no, we were just about to go out."

"You ok? Sound a bit—"

"Everything's fine, Stevie, don't worry. So what's this club you mentioned?"

"Wanted to let you know about a little place SHIELD found out about. A few of your favorite people been making appearances, thought you'd be interested."

"Is that right… Where is it?"

"Not far from the hotel, I'll give you the address."

They sat through the first portion of presentations in a shared silence that was common but heavier than usual. She was as effortlessly nice to him as before any of their little fights, but distant, always distant underneath the smooth pleasantries.

They went for the lunch break with everyone else, and with every opportunity, Bucky kept his eyes on Hamelin. He was talking with the lady from Spain again and sitting more closely than usual. He'd seen him have lunch with a few of the other attendees as well, but she seemed to be his most frequent companion.

As they were about to part, Hamelin passed her a note so surreptitiously as to seem a handshake, but Bucky noticed. They left together, and as they passed the great big doors of the restaurant, Hamelin went in the usual direction of the auditorium, while the woman went a different way. From Steve's call that morning, Bucky had an idea of where that might be, and knew better than to miss the opportunity.

The girl was just finishing her meal, sitting in silence across from him. He thought about tailing the lady on his own, but the idea of leaving his partner in the same room as Hamelin, even with all the other conference goers, didn't sit well with Bucky. He paid for lunch, and as they walked out together he led them toward the lobby.

"A little side-trip." he smiled at her confusion. She wasn't surprised by that anymore, and went along as always.

"What is this?" she asked as they approached a decrepit looking building, not a ten minute walk from the hotel. It looked utterly uninhabited, but a lit stairway leading down betrayed its use.

"Just checking something out." he said as he led them onward, one arm secured on the small of her back.

They went through a rusty looking door at the bottom of the stairway, a squeak announcing them to a few shadowy figures ahead. People looked at them then turned away in disinterest, minding their own business. The faint sound of jazz floated through the corridor, and red lights lit the way forward.

They arrived inside what was a sort of dance-club, mellow and warm and smoky. A few patrons gathered around old wooden tables, some sitting at a dirty wet bar; a pianist and singer performed slowly on the small stage up front.

Bucky scanned the place, not seeing anything suspicious yet, if you didn't count the clandestine nature of the whole thing. Heavy red curtains decorated the walls, and beyond some he could just about see doorways. He held the girl closer to himself, just in case, and heard her wince in disgust as she spotted some of the couples grinding against each other in the dark.

"What are we doing here?" she whispered into his shoulder.

"Just stick close to me, honey." he smiled down at her, pulling her more possessively to him.

He led them to one of the empty tables in a red-cushioned alcove, stained with alcohol sprinklings and cigarette ash, from where he could easily watch the entrance.

"I'm gonna go get us some drinks. Will you be ok here a minute?" he asked as she sat down and took her jacket off.

"Yes, yes." she sighed.

"Ok…" Bucky smiled, and right before he left remembered to ask "By the way, what would you like?"

She thought for a second, and decided "Absinthe, please."

"Bit strong for you, isn't it?"

"I'll need a good disinfectant for this place." she smirked.

Bucky grinned, then went to the bar.

He was back soon enough with drinks for the both of them, and sat beside her to scan the place. He held her close to him, one arm flung around her shoulder, the other resting on his glass of gin. Nobody bothered or approached them, or even looked their way much; discretion seemed to be the rule of the place.

The girl sipped her drink, melting slowly into his side as it soothed her nerves, though she still regretted it every time she looked up and saw something she didn't like.

They were there for a quarter of an hour before sharp footsteps echoed from somewhere to the left, almost unnoticeable underneath the music. Bucky followed the sound to one of the far walls, and sure enough a figure passed through the curtains, almost as if materialising from the dark. It was the Spanish lady, looking rather nervous and out of place as she walked with another man who was older and broader, with a professional look to him. He led her out, and several minutes later came back to disappear the way he'd come, through the curtains.

The girl noticed it too, and looked up at Bucky suspiciously. Catching her gaze, he shrugged with a smile and instantly she knew they had work to do.

He led them across the room, toward the walls, walking along inconspicuously as they made for the entrance they'd seen. The heavy material parted for them to reveal a hallway, dark and very cold and even more poorly lit than the bar. Trash littered the corners and broken old furniture was piled up in places, waiting to be thrown away.

Wordlessly, the couple walked through hand-in-hand. They reached far enough away that the sound of music faded, where bits of graffiti, partially covered or scraped off, decorated the walls under the flickering lights. Some drunk was passed out on the floor, his legs sprawled across the way. Bucky and the girl stepped over him and went on, and met another pair a bit further, cuddled together on the ground as they fiddled with a package between them.

Finally, they reached a corner the led on to a more well lit path. Bucky and the girl looked at each other and quietly agreed to go on together. They didn't make it a few feet until he stopped her, Bucky just barely making out some voices through the walls. Three men, by the sound of it, speaking in Russian. They talked about payment, one week or two, verification, doubts, and counter-offers.

When Bucky heard their voices draw further, then closer again, he started moving the girl back and going the way they came. The men were coming out, and were bound to find them.

She didn't seem too frightened, following his lead obediently, and that gave him a bit of courage to try and find out more. Stepping past the dizzy drunks and vagrants, Bucky stopped them both in the middle of the hallway.

"They're going to see us." she whispered with worry.

"I know, but we gotta get into their office." he said, looking at the far end of the hall. The men should come through any second.

"But if they catch us…"

"They're not gonna catch us, doll." Bucky pulled her closer as he stuck his back to the wall, his metal arm covering the length of her spine securely, black glove holding the back of her neck.

They both looked with concern at the shadows lengthening around the corner, and in a heartbeat Bucky made his decision.

"Kiss me." he whispered, turning his burning gaze down toward her.

"What?"

"Come on, kiss me."

"I can't." she choked, looking up pleadingly into his eyes. "I can't, I can't…"

Just as the far off voices announced the near arrival of the men, Bucky took her face gently in his hand and pulled it up to him, turning it just slightly enough that his lips caressed the corner of her mouth. From the side, it looked good enough to pass for the real thing. His other hand went to her leg and hooked it up around him, fingers curled around her thigh and caressing its inside from underneath, raising her skirt enough to flash the red lace trimming of her slip, the edge of her stocking, and those naughty black garters.

She gripped his lapels to hold on, fearful but tight enough to seem passionate, and she pressed herself against him. She closed her eyes tightly, and even in the shadow of all the other feelings — more erotic, more sensual, frantic — Bucky most of all relished the gentle tickle of her lashes against his cheek.

He held on to her and she to him, shocked under his kiss — that wasn't a full kiss, as much as he could make it, and she was grateful to him for at least that. She grounded herself on the hard planes of his body, broad and heavy as a wall but radiating with a furnace-like heat against her chest and stomach and all the way down between her legs. His mouth caressed the side of hers in tender waves, warm and damp and surprisingly soft, while the tips of his fingers stroked the inside of her leg.

Her hands let go of his lapel for the second it took to grip onto his shoulders, pulling herself even closer and hiding in his body as the men passed them by. Bucky held her tighter and tilted his head just enough to look through the corner of his eye at the back of them, while his fingers caressed her skin with a mind of their own. The men were far enough away and soon were out of sight, going through the curtain and out into the jazz club. He closed his eyes and swallowed a moan, in disbelief at just how hot and soft her thigh could be, and as his fingers crawled upward toward an even deeper warmth, Bucky felt her tense and tremble, and he let her go.

Her leg slinked its way back to the ground while he lifted his lips from her, and as they slowly let each other go they were hit again by the coolth of the corridor. Bucky steadied her, and himself, with a hand on her shoulder, and searched her blushing and avoidant face.

"You good, doll?" he rasped, feeling as winded as she looked.

"Yeah…" she gasped into his chest. Above and unseen by her, he licked the remnants of her taste from his lips and swallowed greedily, while the girl brushed a dry hand across her mouth to wipe him away. "Let's hurry, before they come back."

It was an easy enough job for Bucky to break into their office, though he took his time to pick the lock as quietly as possible and mindful of any alarm triggers.

He gave her one of the two small flashlights he carried in his pocket, and they started looking through the messy old place, sifting through files and folders and open drawers. None of it felt right, those didn't seem like the sort of guys to leave stuff just lying around. And sure enough, inside a stocky wooden dresser, nailed into the bottom of it, was a compact safe. Bucky called the girl over, and she held a light for him while he looked it over.

It had a number of dials and buttons, and the metal didn't seem so thick that he couldn't break it open, but he didn't want to be too obvious about their intrusion. Bucky felt around the edges of the box, and considered picking it open before he noticed an even safer entry point.

He looked at the girl with a cocky smile, and she raised a brow at him.

"Another shoe?"

"Hairpin this time, darlin'."

She sighed and pulled one from her hair. Carefully, Bucky stretched and twisted it into an L shape, then pushed it through a small hole in the corner of the box while he kept pressure on the dial that opened it. He didn't have to twist it around much until the lock was opened from inside. With no risk of picks scratching or breaking the keyway, there would be no hint it was ever opened.

"You know, if we decided on a career as burglars, we could live like kings." she whispered with amusement.

"Don't temp me." Bucky grinned.

He sifted through the safe's contents, pulling out folders and stacks of cash in various currencies. The papers were in multiple languages, including the local one, but they didn't have time to go through it all. They decided to risk it and take the folders with them, which Bucky hid at his back, beneath the jacket. It wasn't until they were back out into the club that the girl remembered she'd left hers behind.

They went back to their seats but couldn't find it anymore, and the bartender said he hadn't noticed anything. It didn't have pockets nor any identifiable mark, so they weren't too worried about its loss. They gave up on it quickly and went back to the hotel.

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

“I know you, Harry Styles” Pt. 2

aka “You’re an Angel”

how harry always be lookin’ at you ^^

AHHH so I’m so glad I wrote a second part of this! It got to be much more enjoyable once I just starting writing what I wanted and not keeping with the original idea I had lol. - I hope y’all enjoy: give me feedback and also I’d love some requests :)

Cannot believe I gave this a slight musical twist bahaha

Also more music was inspiring me to write (that’s usually how it goes) so main songs were: Besame Mucho - the beatles and Time of the Season - the zombies (both mentioned in the story but if you wanted to get ready lol

Word Count: 6.6k (lmao what is wrong with me) | Warnings: kissing, allusion to smut, mentions of covid/quarantine, a little self-doubt/allusion to insecurity, FLUFF

Part 1

His fingers came down to your chin and tilted your head back up to look at him.

“You’re an angel and you deserve to be told so more often.”

His lips connected with yours. The kiss was chaste, but it felt so good. Your lips tugged slightly on his lower lip and Harry continued to kiss you. Then he gave you one more kiss that lingered on your lips, his lower lip slowly pulling itself over yours before he completely pulled away. The warmth of his lips remained on you even when he was gone, but you couldn’t help yourself from trying to tug him back down onto you.

You went to bed that night flustered, to say the least. You couldn’t shake the thought of what almost was down on that couch. It excited you, but it scared you a little too. You didn’t actually know this guy, even if he was famous Harry Styles. You wanted to get to know the actual person, Harry, before you did anything you might regret. It also scared you because this would eventually end. Your lives weren’t connected except for David and that was a rather loose connection. It wasn’t realistic to get involved with Harry, no matter how hot it felt to almost kiss him.

You woke up from the light flooding into your room, through the beautiful, yet impractical, sheer white curtains. You groaned, a slight grogginess from drinking last night. Then you remembered the events of last night, and you groaned louder.

“Oh God,” you moaned to yourself in disbelief, before sliding out of the bed. You padded to the window and looked outside, the view from here was incredible, the city to your left, the vast hills to your right. This offered you some comfort.

Then, you went over to the mirror in the corner of the room. Your hair was a mess from sleep, your eyes were drooping, and your clothes that you had slept in were askew. You rubbed your face with a single palm before setting out to the bathroom down the hall. You crept slowly, worrying you might run into Harry in your unideal state, which would make the events of last night all the more embarrassing. However, when you left the room, you heard music coming from downstairs and decided Harry was likely down there as well.

After the bathroom, you looked in your mirror once more. Your appearance was far more uniform now, even if you were still in your sleepwear. Harry still hadn’t learned what quarantine was so you were assuming he’d be in some nice outfit. You didn’t know what would be worse, going down in the oversized t-shirt you had worn to sleep last night or getting dressed like you actually had something to do today - when you didn’t. You decided to go with the easiest option, go with what you got. You added shorts underneath the shirt for some coverage and ventured downstairs.

There, the music became clearer to you. The Beatles’ rendition of “Besame Mucho” had just begun and Paul’s voice was extra sultry in it. You loved this song and you almost ceased to exist when you saw a shirtless Harry singing animatedly to it as he made himself cereal.

You stopped in your tracks as you watched Harry. He had begun to sing to his cereal box when it had started, but he looked at you directly when he realized you were there. The way he sang out, “Besame, Besame mucho,” similar to Paul, was full of sexual yearning.

His tone made you feel something deep inside, but it also made you feel like you were right where you were last night. But it was morning now, no wine to blame. Just the two of you with your eyes locked and Harry singing “kiss me, kiss me a lot.” The two minute song seemed to last forever. However, when it finally ended, Harry released you from his stare. You were in disbelief that the tension from last night had been so quick to pop up this morning.

“Lovely song,” Harry threw out as he passed by you and went somewhere else to enjoy his cereal. You stood there, still dumbfounded at what had just happened. You shook yourself out of it and went to prepare your own breakfast.

Finding all the ingredients for your breakfast smoothie, you blended them up, poured it into a glass, cleaned up and headed out into the house. Slightly in search of you entrancing roommate, but also interested in taking advantage of all the space this house provided.

Harry was sitting in a different sitting room than the one from last night. You were happy with the change in scenery, not wanting any more reminders of last night. This room was smaller than the other, but it had a cute, little fireplace and you could imagine nights of laughing around the crackling fire, snuggled up next to someone you loved. You pushed the thought from your mind, knowing you didn’t have someone to snuggle with.

Harry had transferred his music to this room's bluetooth system and a random playlist was on, you assumed. He was happily chowing on his cereal when you entered and you smiled sheepishly at him. You crossed to the empty spot on the couch, the furthest one from his toned, tattooed, naked torso.

He raised his brows at your presence. “Hey,” you said, you had no clue what else you could say. “Hey,” he echoed in response. Silence. God, this is awkward, you thought. How could you have gone and screwed this up already? You mentally facepalmed.

Harry broke the silence, “Any plans for today?”

“Ah no, David doesn’t really have anything for me to do right now, but,” you stopped for a second to sip on your smoothie, “I think I’m going to take Checkers out on a walk at some point.”

Harry perked up at the mention of Checkers, “Let me know when, I’d love to get some fresh air and play with Checkers, too.”

You nodded, knowing the conversation was ending already and you’d go back to the awkward silence.

Harry and you went your separate ways again after breakfast.

At around 3, you decided it’d be a good time to walk Checkers so you grabbed one of his leashes and searched the house for the dog. In the living room, from last night, you found Harry, laying on his stomach, with his arms around the tiny pup, snuggling him and whispering to him.

You heard one snippet: “You’re such a cute lil’ baby, aren’t you? I love you,” he cooed to the dog below him. Your smile made an appearance on your face.

Clearing your throat, you notified Harry of your presence.

Harry flitted his gaze up to you standing behind him, brows raised once again. “I thought we could go for the walk, if you’re still interested,” you said, holding up the leash.

Harry jumped to his feet and thought better of making a comment about who the leash was for. Instead he said, “Yeah, thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Of course.” You leashed up Checkers and went for the front door.

“Actually,” Harry’s words stopped you, “do you think we could go out the back gate?”

You stood there slightly confused, you knew there was a path from the back, but you preferred walking to a patch of grass that required you to go out the front door.

“Um,” you started, not particularly wanting to change your plan.

Harry elaborated, “It’s just, I’d prefer no pap photos and the back walk is much more private.”

You understood his preference and you knew you didn’t want to be part of a twitter storm of “Who is that with Harry Styles!” and you, even more, didn’t want to be part of the twitter storm that followed the first: the deep dive into your life and then whatever terrible thing they decided to say about you afterwards.

“That’s fine, I wouldn’t want that either.” You switched courses and Checkers was roaring to go, prancing and yipping excitedly.

Harry mulled over what you said, he was, on one hand, glad you weren’t eager to be seen with him, but he also felt another feeling, possibly rejection, on the other hand, that you didn’t want to be seen with him. He didn’t know why he felt that, especially because he had been the one to bring it up.

Once out on the path, you actually let Checkers off his leash, he knew to stay close and since you weren’t walking next to streets you didn’t have to worry about cars.

That left you and Harry to walk beside each other while Checkers went around exploring and sniffing everything. It felt weird to have your hands next to each other yet not touching as you walked. The path was wide enough for the proximity of your bodies to not be as they were, but for some reason you and Harry had decided to walk within touching distance.

Harry wasn’t one for silence, you were beginning to realize, as he always seemed to be the first to fill it whenever it fell between the two of you.

First, he commented on Checkers and how smart of a dog he was for how small he was. You responded with something about how looks can be deceiving, even with dogs. Harry laughed. Silence. Then, he commented on the nature around the two of you and how beautiful it was. You only said “I love it.” Silence.

Harry was at a roadblock, mentally, there were no roadblocks on the path. The three of you had been walking for ten minutes and you had only said about ten words. Last night had been so fun for him and then you ran off and he felt like it all had been ruined. Now, today the two of you had been walking on eggshells around one another.

He thought back to last night and ran through the list of things the two of you had meshed on. There was actually quite a bit and he was determined to get back to the ease of conversation that had occurred between you two last night. Finally he had it. Travel.

“If you had to live in one country for the rest of your life, where would you go,” he paused, “And why!”

“Did you just pull out an icebreaker on me?” you asked, incredulous at the man walking beside you.

You had been content with the silence, but obviously had to bite at his question. It was a good question.

“I have no idea what that is,” Harry shrugged, crossing his arms nonchalantly. Your face turned to him and you couldn’t help your laughter. You could tell he was trying to be cute - and it was working.

You thought about his question for a moment.

“Am I able to travel still or am I required to stay in that one country at all times?” “You have to stay there at all times, but you can travel to different places in the country.”

You hummed at his response. “Alright,” you began, “Do you want to hear my thought process?”

Harry nodded eagerly, “Please.”

You knew you talking more would make him happy and honestly you were happy to oblige. As awkward as you felt after last night, you knew you had to shake it off. You were both adults, Harry probably has kissed plenty of his friends and it's been nothing, you sure had. You could’ve been another name on each other’s list of friends you’ve kissed. It was hard for you to think of a reason as to why it had been so daunting for you to face Harry today.

“Ok, so the smart choice for a travel happy person would be the United States because it is very large and you could travel around within the country to different places.”

Harry looks at you, a smile beginning to grow on his face. “Uh-huh,” he encouraged you to continue.

“But, honestly I’ve always wanted to get out of this country. So then my next idea was Japan because while it may be small, I love it there and everyone is wonderful. It’s just this awesome place.”

Harry’s smile was now an entire grin, he loved how animated you had become. “But?”

You laughed at the fact that he already knew what you were going to say. “Exactly, but! I don’t know the language, so I would have to spend a long time learning it either there or here first and as you get older, picking up a language is hard, and Japanese is a complicated language even if you are young.”

Harry nodded, again. This time you needed no verbal encouragement to keep going, travel excited you.

“Final answer,” you said, tone dire, like you were on a game show about to win the big money prize.

“Final answer,” Harry echoed.

He had flipped around and was walking backwards, you had no idea why, but he had wanted to get a better look at your face. It had lit up while talking and he just wanted to memorize the twinkle in your eye.

“France. It’s relatively large - with cities, coasts, and countryside. It's wonderful, filled with beautiful art and history. I speak the language already, and even though the French can be a little mean, I, also, in fact, can be a little mean.”

Harry bit back his laugh and clapped his hands.

“Wonderful answer, Ms. ...,” He paused, confusion filling his face, “I actually never got your last name, Y/N.”

“Oh,” you said before quickly telling him your last name, then he repeated his praise, adding it to the end.

You smiled back at him, feeling pride for your answer even if it was something silly. Harry made you feel extremely special. It was almost like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you.

You jumped a bit to get back in pace with him and he turned back around.

“What about you, Mr. Styles, where would you go if you could only live in one place for the rest of your life?” You nudged his exposed arm, the one that wasn’t covered in tattoos - just the eagle, as you repeated his question.

He sighed and looked at the sky, thinking for a moment.

“Are people allowed to visit me?” he asked, turning his head back to you.

“Sure, it’s not like you’re dropping off the face of the earth, people would know where you’ve gone,” you said.

“But you wouldn’t be able to visit me?” Harry followed up.

You responded to Harry with a question. “In this scenario are we both moving to places that we are never able to leave?”

He shrugged, looking to you for the answer since he had asked the initial question that had complicated the scenario.

You huffed and then took it upon yourself to decide. “Ok, so anyone who is not in a similar agreement as the one we have entered into in the scenario is allowed to visit you. So as long as your mum doesn’t enter into an agreement where she moves to one country for the rest of her life - that isn’t the same as the one you pick- then she can still visit you.”

Harry nods and snorts a little at how much you had just said in one breath. “Still no you though?” he teased.

“No me,” you confirmed, smiling that he was considering you in the scenario, even if it wasn’t plausable thing at all. Like you said, he made you feel special.

“Ok, well,” Harry finally began his answer, “I like France.”

He continued to look at you, but you knew he wasn’t done. “And I’m glad you cleared up the mum thing, because that would’ve probably swayed me back to England.”

He chuckled at himself, which caused you to roll your eyes playfully and whisper a little laughing “Shut up.”

He went on, “I like the idea of Japan or Italy as well, but I don’t know the languages there either. I don’t know, even with my Mum still able to visit me, I just love my home.”

You bit your lip, that might just be the cutest thing in the world.

“I love traveling around, I do. But, I want to go live in the English countryside some day. Have a little farm and a little family. We could go into the city if we needed, but it’d be a quiet little life and it’d be all mine. So, if I could only live in one country for the rest of my life it’d have to be England.”

You blinked and smiled softly at the sentiment. He described something so beautiful and the way he said it, he sounded so sincere - he’d obviously thought about the idea before - settling in the English countryside with a family.

“That makes sense,” you started, your voice low, just above a whisper.

Harry must have thought he detected some sadness in your voice because he was quick to say, “Technically, you know, the English Channel is half English territory and half French. So if we wanted to see each other, we could take boats out and meet in the middle, without leaving our respective countries.”

You threw your head back in laughter, but then you stopped in your tracks. You turned to your right and went off the path to a little patch of flowers you had noticed out of the corner of your eye. Your body crouched and picked one of the taller wildflowers.

Harry had followed after calling to Checkers, letting the dog know of your pause in the walk. He and the dog came up to you. You turned your body back to Harry who was watching you intently.

“We could see each other,” you looked at him and extended the long flower to him. “But we wouldn’t be able to touch,” you studied him carefully, he was like a puzzle - and you weren’t very good at puzzles, “Not without breaking the rules of our agreements.”

Harry delicately touched the opposite end of the flower between you. His eyes flickered between the flower and your face. He smirked, “It’s a good thing that none of it’s real, then.”

He plucked the flower from you with one hand and grabbed your now empty hand with his other. He spun you around and your laughter came out a little high pitched from the surprise of his actions.

“Harry!” you exclaimed, you loved his spontaneity, but you felt like you couldn’t show just how much you really enjoyed what he was doing. He was still spinning you until he extended his arm and you thought it was the end. Until he tugged you and you spun right into his chest, leaving you wrapped up in his arm and staring at his face right above yours.

As you worked to catch your breath, you placed a hand on his chest. You could feel his heart beating below your hand, it was practically in sync with yours. Harry didn’t know that though and he feared you’d think his heart was racing unreasonably. Your smile calmed him down as you continued to stare adoringly up at him. It was nice to be held so close. He was so warm and soft.

“Can you not run away this time?” His tone was playful, but his eyes were serious. His jaw flexed beneath his skin as his eyes squinted slightly at you.

“I’m sorry?” you licked your lips. You didn’t understand his question.

“Can you not run away before I can kiss you,” he repeats. Oh, you thought.

“Harry…” you trailed off, conflicted. You wanted to kiss him. You really wanted him to just lean down and take your breath away with the touch of his lips.

“Just let me kiss you, please,” he was begging. Why did he have to beg? And give you that look that made you want to melt into him?

“We barely know each other,” you finally get out. It pained you to even put your thoughts into words.

“So what?” It was more of a statement, than a question when it came from Harry’s lips.

You realized he had a little clip on the top of his head, pulling back his curls. He still managed to look despicably handsome. He reached a hand to curl a strand of your hair between his fingertips. You sighed. Your eyes faltered from the hold his eyes had been keeping, his dimple making an appearance as he smiled sweetly down at you. You could tell that he knew what he was doing to you.

“Wanted to kiss you so bad last night,” Harry continued when he realized you hadn’t formed any words in the last minute.

He began to sway the pair of you slightly in the March breeze. You couldn’t stop your tongue from darting out and wetting your lips at his words. His eyes trained on your face of course didn’t miss the small movement. He only blinked.

“I wanted you to,” you said, still unsure of yourself, “I still want you to.”

His hand in your hair moved to the shell of your ear and trailed lazily onto your jaw. “Then I can kiss you,” he stated, but his voice faltered giving away that he was still a little uncertain.

You put pressure into the hand on his chest, “I’d say you’d have to make me dinner first, but you already did that.” He raised his brows at your change in tone, your words sounding slightly more flirtatious.

You knew what you wanted and hell, maybe this would be the two most fun weeks of your lives.

He leaned down to meet his lips with yours. Softly, your mouths danced together. You pushed your lips into his and his brushed against yours expertly. His pink lips were soft and you felt his bits of chin and mustached scruff on your skin. It all felt amazing. His mouth practically engulfed yours as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

Your body responded by pressing closer and humming a slight moan of satisfaction. Harry liked what he heard. Eventually you both had to come up for air, unbeknownst to your counterparts, both of you had asthma and this hot kiss had taken away your breath a little more than you’d like to admit.

You pulled away from Harry a bit, but he kept his arm around you. “Seems like a good end to the walk, yeah?” Harry asks you. You bit down on your lip and nodded. Checkers had stayed close throughout your whole ordeal, thankfully, but it seemed like he was ready to go back home as well.

Back at the house, Harry and you flowed so much better now. Whether it was the chatting or the kiss, it didn’t matter.

You planned for dinner again, deciding on take out, talked about watching a movie tonight, and then occupied yourselves with various random thoughts.

Whenever you were in reach, Harry had his hands all over you. You weren’t complaining. You liked having him close to you. His skin was fiery while his rings somehow managed to maintain a coolness about them.

The two of you settled in the back room with Checkers. You laid on the couch, while Harry was on his back, on the ground with Checkers laying on his chest. He lazily ran his hand through the dog’s fur, his other hand was extended up and you held his large hand in yours.

Harry had insisted on being the music player for the evening. It had prompted the discussion of music selection switching between the two of them every day, which was reasonable. It wasn’t too awful, Harry and you had similar tastes in music and it was only one day if one of you wasn’t loving the choices being made on your off day. You liked the simplicity of it all.

Over the speakers, “Time of the Season” by the Zombies began to play. You started moving your head side to side to the beat. Harry began singing the main verse. Then you both sang out “it’s the time of the season for loving” not fully grasping at the meaning behind the words.

Harry shifted as the music played so he was sitting at eye level with you. Your face turned to meet his and he smiled as he sang, “What’s your name?” And you giggled and pushed his shoulder. He stayed right where he was, leaning in closer.

You spoke the next verse, “Who’s your Daddy?” while looking straight into Harry’s eyes. He threw his head back and groaned at this, there was no other word for what you had just done to him, it was simply hot.

He tried to grab for you, but you pulled away and sat up, still singing the song. “Is he rich like me?” You caricatured yourself as if you were a wealthy woman on a yacht, flipping your hair and fanning yourself, and finished with a bite to your lip.

Harry followed you up, taking over control of the lyrics, “Has he taken any time?” While he sang he pushed you softly into the back cushions, “to show you.” He pulled his body up over yours, face skimming over the front of your body, then when his face was at the shell of your ear he whispered, “what you need to live?”

You let out a shaky breath. His whisper against you sent sparks tingling straight to your core. He was pressed against you, waiting for you to make a move. The song and performance the two of you had begun was forgotten. You turned your head towards him and he moved to face you.

“Hi,” you giggled and brushed your nose against his.

“You’re an angel.”

“Oh?”

“You’re so different from anyone I’ve ever met. Only makes sense that you’re an angel.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, “Down boy! Don’t go writing an album about me.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders and he looked at you with slightly squinted eyes. Then he smirked, sneakily, “I just might! I can see it already: Quarantine Angel the Album.”

“You already have a song called ‘Only Angel’ and she was your ‘only’ one so you can’t have another angel?” You tried to sound logical, but you were playing with him and had to try to hide your growing smile.

“Ah-ha!” Harry jumped up at your words and pulled you up with him. This left the two of you standing chest to chest, his hands now taking up residence on your waist. “You are a fan, I knew it!”

“That proves nothing!” You tried to break away from his grasp, but he refused to let you go. Your body twisted in his grasp so that your back was now against his chest and he was hunched over you slightly, trying to keep you from running away.

He scoffed, “C’mon that’s one of my least streamed songs and it’s off my first album. You obviously listen to my music, Y/N!”

You didn’t dignify his remark with a response. You continued to wriggle in his grasp, but you actually were quite happy in his arms.

“You can say you listen to my music, angel, won’t make me like you any less,” He smirked down at you.

“You really are a narcissist,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that, angel?” He moved his head around to try and see your face. You huffed, it was clear he wasn’t going to stop with the pet name now that he had it. “Did you say I really am an amazing artist?”

You finally wriggled yourself from his grasp and turned to face him, “No, I said you really are a narcissist.”

Harry’s lips pressed into a thin line as you smirked at him. His mouth then shifted into a frown as he tried to suppress his laughter.

“Hmm, maybe you’re right. You’re not an angel. More like an evil nymph.”

“Why not just make me a demon?” You teased.

He was backing you up into the wall as you continued to talk. “You’re sexier than a demon,” he replied like it was common sense.

“Oh, alright.”

Harry pressed up against you, your back on the wall, his hands back on your body. “See,” he whispered, “That right there. Who responds to someone telling them they're sexy with ‘alright’?”

“I don’t know,” your blush crept up your neck, suddenly feeling much more shy. Harry caressed your cheek, urging you to make eye contact with him. It was hard, but you obliged.

“I don’t usually receive comments like that.”

“But you’re stunning, angel?”

“Thought I was an evil nymph…”

“‘M not calling you an evil nymph, as a petname, you’re so weird.”

“You said it first, not me. But, seriously, I’m not usually one who receives constant attention - like that…”

“That,” Harry paused, nibbling his lower lip, “makes no sense to me. I find you unbelievably attractive and then your personality makes you all the more amazing.”

You continued to blush at his praise. “That,” you poked a finger into the center of his chest, punctuating your words, “is because you're able to find the good bit in everyone that makes them attractive. Plus, most people find my personality to be rather...off-putting.”

Harry tilted his head at your response, the playful conversation had quickly turned serious. “How do you know I always see the good in people?”

“We’ve already been over this, I know you, Harry, you’re a kind person. You do good by others, even if they don’t always do good by you,” you looked at him meaningfully, you wanted him to know that was a good way to be.

“I can be mean sometimes, unkind, angry, jealous, spiteful, all of it. I’m human, Y/N. I like you, not because I like everyone I meet, but because of who you are. Who you’ve shown me you are.” His eyes were looking intently back at you and you thought you might melt. “Your personality is refreshing, it’s real and honest. Anyone who doesn’t like it just doesn’t like being challenged.”

Your eyes faltered from meeting Harry’s gaze. Your hand on his chest fiddled with his cross pendant.

He was wearing a white tank beneath an open short sleeve white button down. It was clean and refreshing. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing come out of his mouth. Like his shirt, it was refreshing to hear someone speak so kindly of you, even though you barely knew one another. It felt so good.

His fingers came down to your chin and tilted your head back up to look at him.

“You’re an angel and you deserve to be told so more often.”

“You’re an amazing kisser, by the way,” you said quietly. Harry chuckled at your words and how you sounded so timid.

“Next you’re gonna tell me you’ve never been properly snogged.”

You disregarded his words, not trying to make yourself sound pathetic, that yes, no one had ever kissed you like Harry did.

“And I’m sorry I boxed you in before. I know you’re human and you have a full range of emotions. It’s unfair of me to say I know you, when I so clearly don’t.”

“Hey, hey, no. I know that’s not what you were saying. I just wanted to show you that I’m not perfect and I have my fair share of critics. Doesn’t mean I’m any less worthy of being treated well. Same goes for you. That was what I was trying to show you.” He wrapped you in his arms and you sighed content to rest your head on his chest and be engulfed by him.

“I want you to believe me when I say you’re an angel,” he kissed the top of your head. “And stunning,” he continued, kissing you again. “And sexy…” he trailed off, stroking your hair. You giggled as you nuzzled into his chest.

The two of you spent the rest of your day together, cuddled on the couch talking and flicking through the various streaming services David had, never able to settle on anything. For dinner, you decided on Chinese takeout and you ate it on the couch.

After you both were satisfied, you leaned into Harry’s side and he extended an arm around your shoulder. You placed one of your arms over his stomach and circularly rubbed him over his butterfly tattoo. You also threw one leg over his lap so your entire body was pressed against his. Harry liked the feel of your body on his, so he adjusted his arm to pull you flush against him.

“Wanna watch a movie?” You asked. Harry nodded. “Ideas?” He laughed before saying, “Earlier when we were singing Time of the Season, made me feel like I was in a musical.” You echoed his laughter as you looked up at him from your spot on his chest. “Mamma Mia?” You suggested. “Love that one.” “It’s probably on one of these apps?” You scrowled through until you found it for free and flicked it on.

The two of you settled again, pressing closer even if there was nowhere closer to go. It just felt good to feel Harry’s body against yours. Warm and strong, yet soft. You both sang softly to the songs in the beginning, but you loved hearing Harry’s voice so much that you stopped singing along by the third song. You laughed along to the antics of the characters, but you couldn’t help but stare at Harry when he would sing. He mostly kept his eyes on the screen, but would sometimes flicker them down to your face and smile dopily at you.

You fiddled with his necklace again when you would watch the scenes go by. You’d also comment on what was going on, you were never able to sit quietly during a movie or show, you liked to talk about it too much. Harry didn’t seem to mind, saying something if your comment warranted a response.

When ‘Our Last Summer’ started, Harry began to sing again and you motioned between Colin Firth on the screen and Harry. You said, “Harry and Harry.” He laughed while he continued to sing, the words slightly hiccuping due to his laughter. His soothing voice overpowered the three men, who weren’t actually that good of singers, despite him not trying to sing very loud at all. Then, you had to sing, “And your name is Harry!” when it came around. All Harry did was tap your nose and smile down at you. He wanted to tease you, but he liked how sweet you were being with him.

You continued to watch and about half way through the movie you shifted your spot so your face was in line with his. “You really are an amazing singer Harry, like to hear you right in my ear - it’s like magic.” Harry shook his head and grinned. “You’re too sweet to me, angel. Thought you said you weren’t going to give me special treatment.”

You pecked his cheek and bucked your head softly against his, similar to a cat. “It’s different now.” “I know,” he trailed off again. The pair of you turned your focus back to the screen, finishing the movie with some more side comments and kisses throughout.

When it ended, you yawned slightly, “I forgot how long it was.” Harry nodded his agreement. You began to sit up, but Harry pulled you back into him. A sigh left your mouth as you were able to explain how you wanted to upstairs and get ready for bed. “I just want to keep snuggling, angel, you’re so warm.”

“Harry, I need to go to bed.”

“Then sleep with me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Sleep with me in my room. You’re such a child, Y/N.”

“Says the one who won’t let me get up and go to sleep just because he wants to keep cuddling,” you gave him a shake of your head with squinted eyes.

“Look, I can guarantee you will enjoy it. I’m a very gentle man in my sleep.”

You threw your head back, still in slight disbelief of the situation you currently found yourself in. Cooped up in a house with Harry and no one else - besides the dog - the end nowhere in sight, since the news kept telling you how dire the situation was, and him constantly flirting with you. Not to mention the casual kissing that always seemed like it was on the verge of going somewhere else. You had no idea what sleeping in the same bed as him might bring. Sure, you didn’t know each other all too well, but look at him, he was gorgeous and if he wanted you, you were definitely not opposed to giving yourself to him.

You blew the air out of your nose and looked back at him. “Fine,” Harry lit up at your words, “But, you have to go let me brush my teeth and change.”

“I can agree to those terms.”

Then the two of you set off upstairs, Harry practically dragging you by the arm. But the smile never left your face. Checkers had gone to bed hours ago in the den, he preferred to sleep downstairs.

Once you were ready, you headed down the hall to Harry’s room. You admittedly had done a bit more than just change and brush your teeth - full skin care, reapplication of deodorant and some lotion, you didn’t want to smell gross when you were sleeping in the same bed as him.

He’d left the door slightly ajar, but you still decided it was polite to knock. “Come in,” he called, he was already in bed. You stepped into the room in some sleep shorts and a shirt that ended below the shorts, meaning you appeared to be only in the shirt. The room was dimly lit and you scurried to the bed. Harry sat up and dangled his legs off the bed when you came over. You stood in between his legs as he looked at you, running his hand over your face. You loved when he touched you, even in the simplest of ways.

“C’mere,” he pulled you into his lap and you straddled him daintily. Your thighs rested on his and you felt his hands move to cradle your round bottom. He shuffled the two of you back so he was resting against the bedpost. Your hands rested on his chest so that your fingertips fell into the dips of his collarbones.

He was only wearing boxers and you had to remind yourself to keep your eyes at his neck or above. The tiger on his left thigh was almost fully visible and you just wanted to trace it with your mouth. He kneaded your cheeks slightly and you jerked your body forward into him in response. He chuckled lowly.

“You’re very...responsive.”

“Harry,” you practically whimpered.

You knew where he was going and like you said, you wanted to go there with him, but you could feel your exhaustion wearing on you.

“Can we wait?” You leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’m so tired and I know that it wouldn’t be enjoyable for either of us if I wasn’t fully into it.”

You took a hand and ran it through his locks, he sighed at your touch. He moved his hands up to your waist and rubbed up and down softly.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I just look at you and I just want to kiss every inch.”

You took one leg from around his waist so that the two of you could settle in for sleep.

“Same here,” you laughed quietly.

He gave you one last searing kiss before you fell asleep.

“Goodnight, angel.”

Tag list: @cronias13, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow, @harrys-cherrry, @mellamolayla, @chillingbythesea, @thatgirlwithcamera, @reidsmemory, @socialfake, @harrxier, @imagine-that-1975

#harry baby #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #i know you harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles is domestic #harry styles angst #absolute kissy

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criminallyfanatic · 4 years

Text

secrets and lies

Aaron Hotchner and Y/N Y/L/N haven’t seen each other since Y/N mysteriously dropped out of Law School right before finals. 16 years later and the meet again as she joins his team at the BAU. Will Aaron finally find out why she left? (set around season 6 time)

aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: some swearing and mentions of murder, just your usual criminal minds antics

a/n - I haven’t written in so long so apologise if it’s not great :) also I have no idea how law school in America works so apologise for any inconsistencies there

“You have an excellent record Agent (Y/L/N), the BAU would be lucky to have you.”

She scanned over your file one last time before settling it on her desk, turning her eyes to you.

“I’m grateful for the opportunity maam” her eyes seemed to stare through you, sizing you up and you shifted slightly in your seat.

“Good. I’m sure you’ll fit right in, with such an impressive history. You’ll start with Agent Hotchner’s team monday morning.”

One mention of his name and it felt like your heart stopped. No, this had to be some sort of mistake.

“Is something wrong, Agent (Y/L/N)?” Her brows furrowed in concern, no doubt noticing the sudden tension that seemed to fill your whole body.

“No, it’s just … when I applied for this job I was told I would be placed on Agent Walters team maam.” please let it be a mistake. Please.

“I’m afraid you were misinformed. This position is on Agent Hotchner's team. Will that be a problem for you?”

YES

“No, not at all. Thank you so much, for this opportunity.”

FUCK

Just open the door. It’s simple. Just push the door open and walk in. He’s probably not even here. And if he is, he probably wouldn’t even recognise you. Or even remember you. Yeah …

Fuck

“Hi!” you jump as someone taps your shoulder, clutching your chest as your heart thunders against it “Oh my god i’m so sorry!”

You turn, coming face to face with quite possibly the most vibrant woman you have ever met. She offers you a tentative smile, her eyes full of concern, scanning your face for any sign of anger or fear.

“I’m so sorry,” she reaches out a hand and lays it on your shoulder, “are you alright?”

“Yes. Sorry. Lost in my own head.”

She appears relieved, happy she didn’t cause any permanent damage.

‘Hi, I’m Penelope Garcia” She reaches out a hand for you to shake, her smile returning tenfold. It almost seems to emanate light, like she makes everything around her shine. It was infectious, and you soon found yourself with a similar smile on your face, all awkwardness forgotten

“Y/N Y/L/N”

Her eyes seem to triple in size at the mention of your name, her grip on your hand tightening.

“Oh my gosh you’re the new agent! I just saw your name come through on the system. It’s so great to meet you. I’m Penelope Garcia, the technical analyst,” She’s shaking your hand again, this time quite vigorously, “Come on, let me introduce you to the rest of the team.” taking the hand she was shaking she now leads you through the impenetrable glass doors and into the bullpen.

“Guy, come meet (Y/N)!” with her free hand she waves at a group of agents all huddled around one person's desk. At her call they all turn to look at you, and all of a sudden the anxiety of meeting new people suddenly overwhelms the fear of meeting an old friend. “She’s the newest addition to our wonderful team.”

Quite suddenly you're enveloped by a swarm of agents, all introducing themselves to you, asking you about your past, your family, your life. And it’s nice. Overwhelming, but nice. They’re all so friendly, and you can tell they’re all so close. Like a family. It puts you at ease and soon you’re laughing along with them.

“Have I missed a memo or something?”

The voice comes from behind you, and it feels like someone is pouring a bucket of ice cold water down your back. You feel the tension come flooding back and you daren’t turn around.

“Hotch, have you met the agent joining our team?”

Everyone is staring at you, expectant. Your move.

Just turn around. Get it over with. Like ripping off a plaster.

You can feel his eyes on you, burning holes into your back. JUST TURN AROUND

You turn around.

“Hey Aaron.”

You could practically hear the gears turning in everyone's heads.

You knew Hotch? How did you know Hotch? HOTCH HAD A LIFE BEFORE THE BAU?

You drowned them out, focusing entirely on Aaron. For a moment, you could see every emotion on his face, written plainly for you to read. The fear, the surprise … the regret. You always were good at reading him. A moment later he was back to his cold exterior. Unreadable. Unknowable.

All at once his body jumped into motion. He moved the last few steps towards you, reaching out his hand hesitantly, as if not quite sure how to approach this situation.

How do you approach this situation? If only he knew just how weird it was

You took his hand, it practically enveloped yours, and it was so warm, familiar -

PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER

“It’s good to see you again (Y/N)”

“Likewise”

The stares of the other agents came from all sides, clearly trying to decipher just what was happening here. The silence was deafening, the noise of the bustling bullpen just background to the tension and confusion mounting in this one area. You were just waiting for the first brave agent to speak up, to ask the question they all wanted to know the answer to.

“So how do you two -”

BEEP BEEP

The shrill sound of the tech analysts phone thankfully cuts off the question that Agent Prentiss had begun to ask.

“Sorry guys, guess the getting to know you party’s over, we have a case” says Penelope, pouting slightly.

Ahh saved by the bell

Despite this, no one seems quite ready to leave just yet, much more happy to linger here and figure out this puzzle. It’s Aaron who moves first.

“You’re welcome to sit this one out if you want to get acquainted with your surroundings first.”

“Thank you, Aaron, but I’m ready. Let's get to work.”

He throws you a swift nod and moves past you, climbing the stairs to the walkway above. Slowly, the other agents follow suit, until you’re left alone with Penelope.

“Hey, are you alright?” she gently rests a hand on your shoulder, “You seem tense?”

“I’m fine,” you shake your head, trying to clear the thoughts racing through it, “Just first day jitters.”

She offers you a small smile, satisfied with your answer. You can tell she’s just dying to ask how you know Aaron, but not quite sure how to bring it up, like she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.

“We knew each other. In law school. In case you were wondering.”

“Have you seen him since?”

“Nope. 16 years since I last saw him.” sixteen very long years

You can tell she knows there’s more to it, but she doesn’t want to push. Not on your first day. You expect that in a couple weeks you will be grilled in depth about your relationship with Aaron, what he was like in College, how well you knew him. But for now she simply nods, happy with this snippet of information she will likely file away and research as soon as she gets back to her office.

“Come with me Agent (Y/L/N), we have a case to solve.”

The case was pretty standard, If you could call a case that. 5 women had been murdered, all brunets, all young and attractive. No doubt some sick bastard had been dumped or rejected at some point in their miserable lives and decided to take it out on anyone who looked the slightest bit like her. All you had to do was catch him. “From looking at the geographical profile I've deduced that his comfort zone is between these three points, so the odds are that he lives somewhere in here.” “We could increase police presence in these neighbourhoods, might make -"

you missed the end of the police chiefs sentence as you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

INCOMING CALL: SOFIA

You feel someone's eyes on you and look up to see Aaron’s questioning gaze. You flash the phone at him and he simply nods his head. You slip quietly from the room, trying not to pull any attention away from the discussion happening around the table, and duck into an alcove.

“Hey sweetie”

“Hey mom.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to say goodnight. How’s the case going?”

“It’s good. Well, not good, but it’s certainly going.” you can feel those eyes on you again, and you resist the temptation to look round. Not now, please not now

“Well, I don’t want to keep you if you’re busy, just wanted to touch base.”

“Ok, well goodnight sweetie, I’ll see you soon. Love you”

“Love you too. Oh and mom.”

“Yeah?”

“Kick some bad guy ass.” You laugh at that

“Ok, I will certainly try.” You hang up the phone, still grinning slightly as you glance at the picture on the screen. You and Sofia had spent the day at the beach and she had snapped a picture of the two of you as the sun set, ice creams in hand. You missed her.

There was a flurry of movement from the room you had just left, everyone grabbing their things and moving to the exit.

“What’s happening?” you managed to snag Reid’s arm as he walked past. By the look on his face it wasn’t good.

“They’ve found another body.”

You felt your stomach drop. You weren’t smiling anymore.

Dumped. Like trash. Just something to be thrown away. That’s what he thought of these women. You stared at her body, all crumpled on the floor and you felt the anger bubbling in your stomach. If you stared long enough she started to look like Sofia. A bit older, a bit taller. But the similarities were still there.

You closed your eyes, shaking your head slightly, trying to clear yourself of that mental image.

No. She’s at home. Safe.

“Are you alright?” He’s looking at you with that air of concern again and it’s almost too much. You can't bring yourself to look in his eyes, instead opting to look at the wall just over his shoulder.

“Yeah I’m fine.”

“If you need a minute, a break…”

“I’ll be fine Aaron.” You look at him then, feel the full force of his gaze and it overwhelms you. He can see it in your eyes. His eyebrows furrow and you can see he’s trying to read you, trying to figure out just what's wrong.

Everything. Everything’s wrong. And you don’t even know .

You feel the tears start to well in your eyes and you force yourself to look away. You can see out the corner of your eye as he begins to reach for you and you hold up your hand.

Please no. Don’t touch me. I don’t think I could bare it. Then it would be real.

“I’m fine Aaron. Really. It’s just a lot is all.”

“(Y/N) -”

You walk away before he can probe any deeper, moving to the mouth of the alley, breathing deep from the crisp night air. The tears still sit, threatening to fall and you try to hold them back.

Not here. Not now. Keep yourself together.

You feel him coming up behind you again, and you spin, your fear and sadness turning to anger.

“Aaron I said I’m fine -”

“Woah don’t shoot it’s just me.” You see Prentiss holding her hands in mock surrender. She lowers them, huffing out a laugh, but regarding you with that self same look of concern.

What is this look? A BAU special?

“I’d ask you if you’re alright but I don’t especially feel like getting my head blown off. That being said … Are you ok?”

Just like she did a moment ago you let out a small laugh, shaking your head slightly.

“Oh god, this isn’t a great first impression is it?” You feel like an idiot. You’re first day and already you’re practically having a breakdown.

“Don’t worry about it. We all have our moments, our limits. It’s what makes us human.” She lays a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You can see why they’re all so close. They look out for one another. See when one is hurting. Like a family.

Family.

“We’ll get him you know.” She pulls you from your thoughts and you glance back to her, eyes focussing on the here and now.

“I know.”

You share a small smile and you begin to truly believe it.

And catch him you did. You had figured out he was stalking and abducting women from their homes. He saw them at work, in a coffee shop, at the mall. One look and he already knew he wanted to kill them. The trick was finding them after he had abducted them. And without any physical evidence to even hint to who this man might be it seemed an impossible task.

But he slipped up. He left a trace. Whether that was the increased police presence, the fact that the FBI were there or just the fact that he was getting sloppy. It didn’t matter. You had DNA. And a name.

Charles Manes. We're coming for you.

For a man unhinged he was surprisingly easy to take down. He just gave himself up, that shit eating grin on his face as he did it. The last woman he had abducted was laying on the floor, bound and gagged. You ran over to her, pulling the rope from her body and helping her to sit up. She began sobbing and you held her against you as she cried, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

“You’re ok. You’re safe now.”

The paramedics took her from you and led her outside, ready to take her to the hospital. You followed after, stopping by the front door and leaning against the frame, taking a moment. You felt a presence beside you and turned to see Rossi watching her get loaded into the ambulance.

“We did good.” he said, not even glancing towards you, “She’ll be alright.”

“Eventually.” You took a deep sigh, feeling yourself start to relax. A commotion made you both look and you saw Charles fighting with the officers trying to load him into the police car. It seemed Aaron saw too as in a flash he was by their side, helping to get him in without causing any more damage.

You felt your body tense, felt Rossi glance at you questioningly.

“Everything alright agent?”

How do they do this? They barely even know me! Stupid profilers.

“Never better.” You said, glancing back at him over your shoulder as you made your way to the SUV’s, to the rest of the team.

“We got him,” Prentiss clapped you on the shoulder as you passed, headed to the second SUV, “let’s go home.”

You had to admit, travelling by jet was quite the experience. What wasn’t as fancy was the great pile of paperwork waiting for you at the other end. You’d only just started but already you were swamped.

You sat at your desk. Penelope had laid out your things whilst you all were away. “I just wanted you to feel more at home here when you got back”. It was sparse, but functional. She had even left you a post-it note with a cute message on and a unicorn stress toy, “You didn’t have any pictures, so I wanted to liven the place up a bit, I hope you like it.”

Right. No pictures. Wonder why.

The paperwork loomed and you tried to stay focused, eager to go home, but as the words began to merge into one another you knew it was time for coffee.

Another long night it is then.

You thought about calling Sofia, letting her know you would be late back. Would she even still be up? Who are you kidding, of course she is.

Might as well call her. A break from paperwork might do me some good.

You reached into your desk drawer to take out your phone.

“Y/N can I speak to you for a moment in my office?”

Maybe not then.

He was looking down at you from the walkway, not quite meeting your eyes. He seemed fidgety, like he couldn't decide whether to cross his arms or put them in his pockets or lean against the bannister.

Nervous. Interesting.

“Of course.” You walked up the stairs to where he stood and he motioned for you to go inside and take a seat. He lingered by the door for a moment before pushing it closed and making his way around the desk and sitting in his chair, hands steepled before him on the desk. He regarded you for a moment and you felt your heart skip. It felt like he was x raying you, like he could see into your mind, into the thoughts racing about in there. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying to escape his gaze, or at least prompt him into talking. Anything to break the silence.

“I just wanted to check in on you, your first case and all. You’ve done some exceptional work and I can see you being an excellent asset to this team.”

“Thank you. I can see that I’m going to enjoy working with this team.”

He simply nodded, nothing more to say, but you could see in his face he wasn’t done. Not really.

Is that really all you want to say? Come on Aaron spit it out. I can see it in your eyes. Maybe this will make it easier on the both of us, if we just blurt out what we have to say at the same time. Or would that wreck you even more? Either way I’m the bad guy. But I can’t keep this to myself. You need to know. You want to know. So just ask.

“Why did you leave?” he blurted it out suddenly and it shocked you, and by the look on his face it shocked him too

“I’m sorry what?”

He gained back some of his composure, steeling himself before asking again.

“Why did you leave law school. Right before finals you just up and left. No letters, no reason just there one minute gone the next. I tried to find out something, anything but no one knew-” You could tell he was working his way up to something.

Come on. Ask me. Make this easier on me. Blame yourself, so when I tell you the truth it will hurt less. Because you know why. Or at least part of it.

“If you left because of what I did I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to drive you away. It was stupid and immature and if that is why I am truly sorry.”

Oh god, I thought if I heard you admit it, it wouldn’t hurt as much to tell you the truth. To hurt you like you did me. But it’s worse, so much worse. Because you’re sorry. And I’m the villain. The one who didn’t tell you.

You could feel the tears falling down your face, slipping onto the hands wound tightly in your lap. His face was breaking too, and you couldn’t bare to look at it a moment longer.

“Y/N -” he reached across the desk for you but you held up your hand to stop him, just like in the alleyway.

“Please. Don’t.”

“If this is because of me I’m so sorry. If you want I can get you a transfer. If you can’t work with me we can sort this out.”

That's right, the cowards way out. Just keep avoiding this conversation till you eventually die.

Just tell him. Get it over with. Rip off the bandaid.

“Please stop. Just stop. It’s not your fault. I mean, it was, partly, but it wasn’t. And when I tell you why you will probably hate me, and can take that. I deserve it. And if you want to transfer me out, get rid of me I understand. But when you left me, to go back to Haley it broke me. I hated you. I hated you with everything I had and I thought the best way to punish you was to just not tell you. But over the years I’ve realised how stupid I was, how selfish and foolish I was to not tell you. All because of some petty relationship drama.”

His look of confusion morphed into one of understanding and horror. Like he had connected the dots in his head but wasn’t quite ready to admit to what they all added up to. He was as far away from you as possible. Like you stood before him with a bomb and he was waiting for it to go off. And you were.

“I was pregnant Aaron. I was pregnant and I never told you. I just left. And I’m so sorry.”

Your whole body was shaking as you dissolved fully into tears, not daring to look at him, to no doubt see the anger and the disgust written on his face. Disgust at how stupid and selfish you were.

Not telling someone they have a daughter. How evil can you be.

You heard your name spoken softly from the chair beside you. You hadn’t even seen him get up. But he reached for you again, and this time you let him, let him pull you into his arms, rest your head against his chest as you cried and cried, spilling tears onto his white shirt. He rested his chin on top of your head, rubbing soothing circles onto your back, rocking you slightly.

No. This is wrong. This is all wrong. You should hate me for what I’ve done, I’m despicable.

“Aaron.” You brought your head up from his chest, finally looking at his face. He didn’t look angry or disgusted, he just looked … sad.

“It’s alright.” He gently brushed some of the tears from your face, one hand coming to rest on your cheek, “It’s ok.”

“It’s not ok Aaron. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I kept this from you.”

The hand on your cheek fell away, coming to rest instead on your hand, holding it in his.

“You must hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Well I hate myself.”

“This isn’t your fault”

“Isn’t it?”

“I screwed up. We both did. But I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me about this. I drove you away and I broke your heart. We both made mistakes. But we can fix them now.”

The way he said, the way he seemed to stare into your soul, made you truly believe you could.

“Tell me about them. Tell me everything.”

And so you did. You told him everything about Sofia. How excited she was to go into her junior year next year. How she liked to eat pancakes on saturdays and drink tea because it made her feel fancy. You told him how she cries at soppy movies and how you would always make time for mother daughter dates. And he listened to every moment of it, every little detail. And it pained you that he never knew any of this. That he never got to see her grow up. But maybe now he could get some of that time back. Still have a relationship, make some memories with her.

“I want to meet her.”

“I want that too.”

And you felt some understanding pass between the two of you. That whatever had happened in the past was over with. Now, what was important, more than anything else, was family.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic

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annaraebananawriter · 3 years

Text

(Part Three) I Want to Forget

FINALLY!

WHO’S BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE???

I know I have. I’m sincerely sorry for the wait. Motivation was a damn bitch and came throughout the almost full year it’s been since I posted Part One and Part Two (which you might want to read, if you can’t remember or haven’t yet) sporadically.

But I finally finished it. Now, there’s only one more part left and then a little bonus part from Nightmare’s POV. The bonus part is when Jake gets some well deserved Karma from the King of Fear himself! So stay tuned for that.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Fandom: Undertale, but specifically UTMV

Characters: Nightmare, Dream (Who belong to Joku), Killer (Who belongs to Rahafwabas), Dust (Who belongs to ???, I don’t know), Error (Who belongs to CQ), Horror (Who belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios) and, finally, mentioned Ink (Who belongs to Comyet) and Blue (Who belongs to P0pcornPr1nce)

Warnings: Implied Rape (although, it’s toned down more, so it’s more like flashbacks), Implied Self-Harm (but just a tiny bit, barely there) Panic attacks (close enough to, at least), Implied Anxiety and I think that’s it? Let me know!

Word Count: 5254

~oOo~

"Heya," the human said, "you're Dream, right?"

"A-ah, yes! That's me!"

stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid

"Hey, do you want me to get you a refill too?"

"Oh, uh...it's fine. I was just having water, anyways."

"I'll get you some more water?"

"...alright."

Dream forced himself to breathe.

He closed his eyes and pushed those thoughts and snippets of memories down and away. Looking back on them and berating himself for not realizing, not noticing, would only do him more harm than good, he knew that. But he couldn't help it. If he had just...if he had been smarter...if he had...

There were so many 'if' this and 'if' that, it made his head spin.

They clouded his mind, becoming more jumbled as more and more came.

…

"Dream?"

Horror's voice made him start. He blinked his eyes open again and stared at the sink, which had been turned off now and was just dripping. Another call of his name gave him the incentive to tear his attention away and meet the other's concerned eyes.

Drip, drop

Nightmare hadn't told his boys much, as per the wishes of Dream. He didn't want anybody to know how weak he had been, how blindsided he had been, how...anything that happened, really, he wanted to keep as limited as possible. It was bad enough with Nightmare knowing, even if his brother still didn't know all the details. The ones that Nightmare did know made him worry, worry about Dream and Dream hated being worried about.

He was supposed to worry about others. Not the other way around.

However, he was glad that Nightmare respected his wishes. Horror and the others—as they had, naturally, been curious as to why Dream, their supposed enemy, was staying with them, the brothers did kind of owe it to them to tell them something—they knew the bare minimum: there had been an...incident...with Dream and someone that involved, on Dream's part, some non-consensual actions taking place, and that was why the guardian of positivity was staying with them for a bit.

Dream knew that Nightmare's gang was smart, though, and that they had probably read between the lines to understand the actual reason, even if they had been told the truth.

Dream...had been raped.

Admitting that to himself brought shivers and an automatic denial that said no, he wasn't, he was just stupid and naïve and pathetic and he let it happen, it was his fault, his fault, and he could've stopped it, should've stopped it, but he didn't because he was, again, stupid and pathetic and—

Drip, drop

Dream shook himself, realized he had been silent for longer than he should have and laughed nervously, the sudden sound making Horror jump a little.

"S-sorry, I...got lost, for a minute there," Dream said, shaking his head at himself, resting his gaze on the countertop where it was drawn, as if by a magnet, to the two innocent glasses of water. The ice in them had already melted quite a bit.

There was an itch in his mind that begged to come forward, promising another flashback.

Drip...drop

Dream swallowed. "I'm fine," he said softly, in answer to the unheard question. He could feel Horror's eyes on him as he stared at and through the glasses of water. He ignored them and the concern rolling off of the other.

He felt Horror start to speak and braced himself. "...do you remember why we're in the kitchen?"

Dream blinked and looked to Horror, meeting the other's guarded eyes, an unreadable expression on his face. That...wasn't the question he expected. He opened his mouth to answer what seems like an easy question, but found his mind blanking on the answer, like he had just woken up.

But he hadn't. He had been awake for a while now, he knew it.

So why didn't he remember?

His silence was answer enough for Horror, who nodded as if he had heard something. "We were in the garden, picking some fruits and berries that were ready. I was there because it's my job as the designated chef to gather everything that grows there." He paused, as if making sure he was still listening. "You were there because of two reasons: Nightmare wanted a reason to get you out of your room and you wanted some fresh air from being inside the castle for almost a month."

Dream listened quietly while Horror explained what they had been doing. As he talked, fuzzy moments came back to Dream, though the talking was muffled and the scenery was blurred, like he was both there and not there at the same time.

...has it really been a month since then?

"We didn't talk much," Horror continued, "as I could see you weren't all there. Eventually, it became really hot and you asked if we could take a break, cool down for a minute. I agreed. When we got back here," he waved his hand to say, here, in the kitchen. "I asked if you wanted something to drink, you said that you did, although now that I look back, I probably should have asked you what you wanted to drink instead of just assuming." He eyed the glasses, laughing to himself.

Dream shook his head. "It's fine."

Horror looked back to Dream. "It's not, not really, but okay. As soon as I turned on the tap," he nodded to the sink behind him, "you froze, staring at the water. I didn't notice until I had gotten our glasses. Sorry."

"It's fine," Dream repeated, shaking his head again. "you didn't do anything wrong. It's silly, anyways."

"It's not silly." Horror straightened, steel in his voice. "It's not silly. What happened to you..." he trailed off as Dream cringed. "It's not silly."

Dream said nothing.

Drip...drop

He never drank the water, either.

~oOo~

The hours passed by rather slowly until it was after midnight. Dream was sitting on his bed, fingers playing with the blankets when there was a knock and Nightmare entered without waiting for permission. Which was fine, as it happened most nights; they practically shared a room now.

Nightmare would come, Dream would be awake, they would talk and Nightmare would force Dream to sleep, being there when Dream had a nightmare, usually being gone when he woke up for good, although there was a couple of times when Nightmare had been asleep when Dream woke up. It made Dream guilty, but he didn't stop it.

"Horror told me what happened." Nightmare said, like Dream thought he would. His brother was still standing by the door, like he did every night.

Dream nodded slightly.

It was silent.

He inhaled as he realized Nightmare was expecting him to talk. "It was silly."

"It wasn't."

He clenched the blankets in a fist by his side. "Yes, it is!" Dream blinked against the sudden wetness of his eyes. "It's weak, too."

"Dream, it isn't silly." Nightmare said firmly, moving to sit beside him. Dream refused to look at him. "Nor is it weak. These are normal reactions to what happened."

"What happened was almost a month ago!" Dream sniffed, reaching up and rubbing at his eyes. He was so tired of crying. "I should be over it, but I'm not."

Nightmare was silent. "...that's not how things work, no matter how much we wish they did. Rape," —Nightmare ignored how Dream flinched at the word— "is one of the most serious things in the world. It's wrong, so, so wrong, but it still happens, and those it happens to don't just forget about it and move on suddenly. It's a process. You have to heal from being wronged and learn how to live with the effects of what happened. And that's going to take a while."

No.

No, he had to be wrong.

Dream had to be different because...

He should be different because...

Dream was shaking, trying to think of reasons as to why he should be different, why he should be over it already. He didn't know when, but his head had been moved to Nightmare's shoulder and Nightmare was hugging him as much as he could.

"I was drinking water that night," Dream started, surprising himself but finding himself unable to stop, "I was at a bar and I was drinking water and he didn't care and we talked and when we ran out, he offered to get us a refill. I tried to refuse him because I was just drinking water, but he insisted and he got me some more water, but I didn't realize he had drugged it." Dream sobbed, his emotions getting the best of him, reaching up with a shaking hand to clutch at Nightmare's shirt. "It's my fault."

"It's not." Nightmare shushed him, rubbing his back. "It's not, nor will it ever be your fault. You didn't ask for it, you didn't want it and it shouldn't have happened, but above all, it wasn't your fault."

~oOo~

Dream didn't know what to think of Error. The destroyer wasn't at the castle all of the time. He usually came, like, once a week or something and just lurked around a bit, annoying everyone but the guardian.

And he didn't know why. He wanted to know why.

But how did he ask something like that? 'Hey, I noticed you don't bother me when you're over and I know you probably know about what happened, but I still would like to know why.' No. That just sounded...weird. It was all weird, worrying about something so small like this but he couldn't help it. It was something he couldn't control and, frankly, he didn't want to. It was normal. He wanted normal things.

He was tired of things not being normal.

Admitting this didn't solve anything, though. He still worried about it. And he shook his head at himself when he caught himself drifting into the thoughts about it, the what-ifs and such. He did this a lot. It was also tiring.

It was one of the days that Error was over that something inside Dream rose.

It was like his bones were on fire, and every time something touched it, it hurt. It felt like hell and made him want to cry and cry but he couldn't because he was tired of crying and it was all so frustrating. Everyone walked around him, sneaking glances at him, because they knew something was wrong but they didn't know what. Even Nightmare was at a loss for once. And then everything was too much; the sounds too loud, the fabric too rough, everything heightened and he hated it.

HateditHateditHateditHatedit

Someone, he couldn't tell who, tried to touch him, rest their hand on his shoulder as a reassurance, but it stung. God, it stung so bad and Dream knew that he had to get away. He didn't know why, and that didn't help, but he had to get away from anything that wanted to touch him, bring back things he wanted to forget. So, he ran away from the problem.

Which was how he found himself in the bathroom, skin alight with ghost hands that he hated but couldn't get away from because they weren't real. His vision was blurry from tears he held back by force. Shivers racked his body, but they couldn't shake the memories away either.

—Hands tied to the headboard—

—Bad hands going over, down, over, down—

—Stupid, stupid, stupid—

—Over, down, over, down, down, down, hurting, hurting, hurting—

—Hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate—

Dream shut his eyes tight, trying to drown the images in blackness, but it didn't work. Nothing worked. That was pathetic. He was supposed to be getting better, why wasn't he getting better? Why, why, why? He wanted to forget what happened. He couldn't forget what happened and that scared him.

He pressed his forehead to his knees and went in—

"Distraction usually helps me, when this happens."

—and out, eyes snapping open and head whipping up, Dream met the eyes of Error, who was sitting against the sink, shoulder relaxed. His head leaned back and up, one of his eyes closed, the other watching Dream.

He blinked. When did Error get here? Here, in the bathroom with him? He hadn't heard anything besides the images, the bad thoughts and his own breathing struggles. Was he so caught up in his head that hadn't heard anything else? How more pathetic could he...

He dug his fingers into his ankle, the pain keeping him from staying too far. No. He refused to say bad things about himself any longer. Nightmare said this was normal, this was healing, and if he said it then it must be right. If he continued to view it as unnatural and wrong, he would be disrespecting Nightmare and he never wanted to do that. Nightmare's trying to help and if says something is good then it must be good and that's good.

What Error says suddenly springs back to him and he tenses. "What?"

Error shifts, sitting up and opening his other eye, gazing at Dream evenly. He was still calm. "When this happens, when everything is too much." He pauses. "When the touch feels like, in my case, it's probably different for you, electricity, where it zaps me if anything touches me, reminds me that it's bad."

Dream blinked again and it's out of his mouth before he can stop it: "Like the fire?"

Error nods, eyeing him thoughtfully. "Yeah. The electricity, the fire, it lies, that's what you have to keep in mind. It says something bad, that touch itself is bad, but it's not." His gaze becomes knowing. "It can be, sometimes, but it's not meant to be like that. It's meant to be a good thing. Understand?"

Dream slowly nods, saying he does, though his mind is elsewhere.

A lie. A trick of the mind.

Like when he's in a small, small, small place and it's so dark he can't see anything and he thinks that everything's closing in when it's not, that he can't move when he can.

Just like that.

That feels like suffocation and touch feels like fire, but they're both lying. They both want him to believe somethings wrong when nothing is, all they're doing is trying to protect him, keep him from getting hurt again the same way he was. And sometimes, sometimes, they get so panicked that they scream and overwhelm him, but that's okay. That's normal.

He can calm them not that he knows what they're trying to do.

Dream looks up from the floor. "You said distraction works for you. What kind of distractions?"

Error tilts his head, thinking. "Lots of things, really. Going to Outertale and staring at the stars is one. It gets a bonus for being pretty. Watching Undernovela is another one, a great one because the talking overrides everything and it makes me laugh. Uh...Oh! Knitting, too, is one because the yarn is soft and..." Error continues on, rambling about distractions for himself that eventually just turns into an infodump about the process of knitting, how to choose the right yarn, things like that.

Dream sets his chin on his knees and listens, smiling.

Listening to people is a distraction he uses anyways so he's glad he can use it with this too.

~oOo~

Later, once Error leaves and Dream finds enough courage to face the others again, he goes downstairs. Everyone pauses once he enters the living room, stares at him for a second, then returns to what they were doing before he came. The only one who doesn't is Nightmare, who continues staring at Dream.

Dream looks back and gives a small smile, a real smile, the first one he's shared since he started living here. Nightmare blinks, surprised and smiles back, relieved that he's good.

~oOo~

Dream walked into the main living room and looked around. Nightmare wasn't there, but Dust and Killer were. They had cards in their hand and had looked up when he walked in. They went back to their game upon seeing who it was, seemingly unconcerned with his presence, but he did notice a slight increase in the tension of their shoulders.

Dream hesitated, but walked over when the curiosity (and worry) over where Nightmare was won out. "Um...do you—?"

"Boss had an errand to run," Killer answered, voice clipped. He seemed to be annoyed at something. "He took Cross and Horror with him. We had to stay to watch you."

Dream flinched.

"Killer." Dust warned, looking up from his cards.

Killer snorted, shrugging a bit. "Just telling sunshine here the truth."

Dream shifted and quietly thanked the two. He retreated back to the door, but paused before leaving. The two had gone back to their game. He watched them play for a minute, watching them laugh and glare at each other playfully.

The sight brought a feeling of longing.

He hadn't realized it until now, but he really missed his friends. He missed laughing with Ink and Blue. He missed playing games with the two, just like Dust and Killer were doing. He missed just being with them, when all they had to worry about was when Nightmare and his gang would attack next.

He missed the before. Dream liked the before. He didn't realize how much until it became the before and he was in the after. It was kind of shocking, just how much he missed those times, the sense of normality and happiness. Now, here he was, watching two friends play a game together while his friends had no clue where he was. They were probably out of their mind with worry, especially Ink, who was there before everything changed.

Maybe he should...

No, no. He couldn't. That wouldn't be fair on them. This was his problem, his...trauma. He didn't need to burden his friends with the knowledge of what happened.

His friends didn't need to know, right?

He was fine with what he had now.

…right?

"Hey, sunshine!" Killer called, making Dream jump. The two had apparently finished their round, as Dust had started to reshuffle the cards. Killer had turned to Dream and had an expectant look on his face. "Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna join in?"

Dream blinked. "What?"

Killer rolled his eyes, which was interesting; he didn't have any eyelights. "If you're gonna stand there, you might as well join in. It'll beat just standing and doing nothing while you wait for Nightmare."

They...they wanted him to join their game?

(Why would they want his presence? He was their enemy.)

But...

But...he thought the two were uncomfortable with his presence. Weren't they? That's the message the tense shoulders had given him, along with the clipped tone Killer had talked with. Did Dream imagine all that? Surely not. But they didn't have any tension now; just the opposite, they looked like they wanted him to join.

Well...if they wanted him too, it wouldn't hurt, right? Besides, maybe all he needed to soothe the longing was to play a game with other people.

"Um, yeah! I'll join."

"Great!" Dust smiled and patted the spot across from them. Dream sat down and waited as they were all dealt out. They had been playing a game of Uno. Good. It was a game that he knew. Dust flipped over the first card, which was revealed to be a yellow seven.

Killer's turn was next. He placed down a blue seven, changing the colour.

Dream hesitated before playing a blue eight.

They played in silence for a few minutes. Killer always groaned when he got faced with a skip or a plus two. Dust just faintly smiled when it happened to him and in response to Killer. Dream watched it all happen, fighting to keep a smile off his face.

They had gotten a fair amount into the game—Dust had two cards, Killer had nine and Dream had four—when Killer shifted his legs into a different position and spoke up. "You know, sunshine, you don't have to just stick by the Boss while you're here. The rest of us don't bite."

Dream looked up from his cards, oddly feeling like a deer caught in headlights. "I...I don't know what you mean..."

Killer gave him an unimpressed look. "I think you do. The first few weeks you were here, you locked yourself up in your room. Which is fine. You weren't ready then, I understand." Dust played a card and Killer scowled, picking up a card from the draw pile. "However, you've been coming out of the room for...what has it been? Two weeks? And all you've done is hang around with the Boss."

Dream stilled. "Oh."

"Yeah." Killer looked up and met his eyes, his emotions giving nothing away to what he was thinking. "You don't have to do that, you know. We aren't gonna be mean or anything—" Dust snorted at that. Killer glared at him. "We're not...I'm not gonna be mean or anything."

Dream shifted himself, an unplaceable feeling growing.

Dust spoke up, voice soft. "We know what happened."

Dream fought hard not to flinch, instead staring hard at his cards as if he could burn them with his mind. He didn't know why this was so scary for him to hear. He knew they knew already. But still...

Down, down, down, down—

Fear, panic, guilt, confusion—

Hurting, hurting, hurting, hurting—

Sometimes he still found it hard to believe that other people cared about him, not just that their source/drug of happiness might be broken.

"I'm not saying it's necessarily wrong for you to stay beside Nightmare so much," He heard Killer continue, voice still deceivingly uncaring, apathetic. "but it might not be the healthiest. I mean, you give off the vibes of needing to talk to more than one person about your issues."

"Everyone here has their share of trauma, Dream." Dust said, voice still soft and gentle. "It might not be quite the same as yours, but we know what it's like. You can talk to us, okay?"

"When you're ready, of course," Killer reassured. They were both gazing at him when Dream finally looked up. "if you want to just talk to Nightmare, that's fine. You do you. We just want you to understand that we're also here if you need us." Killer slid into a grin, gesturing to the cards. "Or if you just want to play Uno."

Dream swallowed.

This was a lot to take in.

He appreciated it, he really did. He also was under the impression that he had already known that they were willing to help, especially after talking to Horror and Error, but the fact that tears were welling up in his eyes made him think otherwise. It was overwhelming that the people he had fought tooth and nail with not that long ago were the ones telling him this now.

Overwhelming and needed.

The smile he had been fighting won out and spread across his face. He reached up and wiped away his tears before addressing the two, soul filled with gratitude. "Thank you." He made sure his words sounded genuine, even though he knew they knew he meant them already. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Dust nodded and looked back at his hand. "Great. Now," he grinned, placing down a plus four wild card. Killer gasped, offended. "Killer, pick up four. And it's red now."

"It was already red! You can't just change it to the colour it was!" Killer continued to fume, though he also began to pick up four cards, seemingly forgetting that he could challenge Dust. It seems Dust knew this would happen; he had a smug look in his eye and he sent Dream a wink when he caught him looking.

Dream looked down and let himself start to giggle.

~oOo~

Dream had been thinking recently.

One, he didn't know what happened to Jake. This had come to his mind during a bad day, one where he couldn't leave his room because the thought of going outside of it made his skin tingle and a feeling of utter fear run through him. When Nightmare had first found him, it was the next morning and he hadn't mentioned anything about the whereabouts of Jake since. It made him wonder. It also made him a bit fearful, not knowing what happened to his rapist.

The second thing...was that he hadn't seen nor heard from his friends Ink and Blue since the raping. For the months he's been here, he hadn't even thought about them until not that long ago. It also made him wonder. How they were feeling, if they missed him, if they were looking for him. Knowing them, they were probably scoring the multiverse for him. Not that they would find him. Nightmare's castle was hidden very well. Not that it would matter; they still thought Nightmare and him were on bad terms with each other.

Thinking about his friends made something ache in him. He really missed them. He hadn't noticed it, but he did. He missed their movie nights, where Ink would criticize the movie and Blue would defend it and Dream would just laugh at them, amused. He missed when they all baked together, almost burning down the house because they sucked at it. The game nights, the sleepovers, the laughs, the bonding...he missed them so much.

They were great friends.

And Dream needed to tell them what happened.

The need to do so filled him, made his heart pound and mind race. He wanted to see them again and they deserved to know. He trusted them. Nightmare and his gang knew, but he hadn't trusted them at first. He had always trusted Ink and Blue. Telling them was something he could control. He could decide whether he told them or not.

And he decided to tell them.

He just had to tell Nightmare that now.

~oOo~

The next morning, Dream rehearsed what he was going to say over and over. He knew that Nightmare would probably agree, say that it was a good thing he wanted to tell his friends, but he just...couldn't get himself to move, to knock on Nightmare's door and ask.

Instead, he just found himself staring at the dark wood.

Staring and staring and staring.

He sighed.

It was frustrating. He knew that wanting to tell people about Jake was good, that it meant he was recovering and healing, but somehow—somehow, his mind didn't really recognize that as a real thing that will happen. If felt too good to be true, that they'd look at him with disgust and say it was his fault and confirm everything he already thought of the incident and oh god he can't do this why was he here oh god oh god oh god—

The door opened from the inside and Dream yelped as a tentacle pulled him through, Nightmare shutting the door behind it. The appendage dragged him along as Nightmare returned to his desk, first dropping him in one of the seats in front of it and then taking his seat for himself.

Nightmare laced his fingers together and stared at Dream expectantly.

Dream stared back with wide eyes, frozen stiff.

Silence reigned.

…

Nightmare sighed, making Dream jump, nerves on edge from being pulled into the room so suddenly and put in the spotlight before he was ready (even though he knew everything he wanted to say and could pretty much predict the ending). His brother waved his hand, leaning back. "So?"

Dream blinked. Now was his chance. All he had to do was say 'I need to talk to you, Night'. It's not that hard. 7 words. Practically nothing! So, c'mon mouth work with him here and say it...now— "So?"

—or just repeat what was said. That works too. At least you said something.

Nightmare stared. "You were standing outside the door for some time, clearly anxious to ask me something." He paused and looked away, sheepish. "I was getting a bit annoyed with waiting." He looked back, gaze knowing again. "I decided to take the initiative for you and open the door, as you would probably think yourself into going away."

He took a breath. "So, I'll ask again. What did you want to ask me, Dream?"

Dream broke off the eye contact, instead looking at his hands as he fidgeted with the end of his shirt. He knew that Nightmare was watching him, waiting. He was always waiting for Dream, no matter if it was now or back then, when he was waiting for him to come back to the tree.

He didn't like being waited on. It made him feel awful that others had things to do and people to hang out with and instead of doing those things, they were waiting for him, as if they needed his permission or something. Dream was fine on his own, he could handle it, they should just do their own thing and the next time they met, he'd be better.

Except with...this.

Rape wasn't a thing he could handle on his own.

That's why he needed to do this, why he was here. He had to ask—no. Not ask. He had to tell Nightmare that he was going to tell Ink and Blue about what happened. He didn't tell the gang himself what happened, at the time not being able to admit what had happened to him. But he was somewhat glad they knew without him telling. It was easier that way.

But Blue and Ink were his friends, not Nightmare's.

Dream deserved to tell them what happened himself.

"I want to tell Ink and Blue."

Nightmare paused, making Dream look up. His brother was eyeing him cautiously, a faint surprise present in the air. "About what?"

A rhetorical question.

Nightmare already knew.

He just wanted Dream to say it. "About Jake. And the bar. And what happened." He took a breath. "Everything."

Nightmare watched him for a moment. And he said, so soft and gentle understanding, "Okay."

That was all.

Just "Okay."

It was all that was needed to be said.

The surprise faded and pride took its place. Not much, but it was enough for Dream to detect. It made him shy and feel weird, but in a good way, and he looked down at his hands again, this time fighting a smile. He always got this way when someone was proud of him; it didn't happen as often as people assumed, so it was always nice.

Nightmare caught his attention again. "Do you know when you want to tell them?"

Dream shifted and frowned. "No...I didn't think that far ahead." And though he knew Nightmare didn't like it when he did it, added, "Sorry."

Nightmare glared at him with no real intent. "Don't be. It's fine. How about in...a couple of weeks? Would that be enough time?"

Two weeks, more or less.

Dream mulled it over.

Having a set time for seeing his friends again already made him nervous, but he dug deeper to see if it was enough time to prepare himself mentally. No real backlash came, no fear, no what-ifs, nothing besides the normal—or at least what Nightmare says is the normal—amount of worries. He wasn't starting to overthink it yet, and he should probably make his decision now before he does start to and backs out.

Two weeks. Yes or no?

Dream looked up and met Nightmare's eyes and said, "Yes."

#my writing #my fanfiction #oneshot #undertale #utmv #dream sans #nightmare sans #horror sans #error sans #killer sans #dust sans #mentioned ink sans #mentioned blue sans #implied rape #tw implied rape #tw flashback #tw panic attack #tw self-harm

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archadianskies · 3 years

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wingspan

→ on Ao3

@dbhrarepairs Monday Day 1: Post-Apocalypse • Sacrifice; Hank Anderson/Rose Chapman TLOU AU

“Alice needs medicine.” It’s said in a whispered hush, paired with nervous glances over at the feverish child labouring in bed. “Her coughs are wet and her chest sounds congested.”

“Adam’s still about a week out from being able to drive back here,” Rose chews her lip, shaking her head.

“Doesn’t matter,” Hank shrugs, “I’ll make the exchange by myself.”

“No!” Her voice is stern, her gaze even moreso but she knows it won’t dissuade him. They both know this has to be done.

“Make the call. Luther can help me load up the truck and I’ll go.”

“Hank-” Kara, sweet Kara with anguish on her face weighing her down, wearier and wearier with a sick child already.

“I’ll get it done, for your little girl,” he pats her hand and there’s conflict mixed with her gratitude. “Luther will keep everyone safe here while I’m gone.”

They’re easing into winter and they all know if he doesn’t go now, there won’t be a chance later when the roads are covered in snow. Doesn’t mean Rose is any more comfortable with the plan, not when the world isn’t what it was and every single day they’re out here they know they’re all on a knife’s edge.

“The cold slows them down,” Hank tries to placate and she raises one brow and he drops that line and goes for another. “I’ll be careful.”

“You better,” Rose says firmly and eases the beanie on his head. “North’s making the drop this time.”

“Doubly, extra triple careful then,” he mutters. North’s tempestuous at the best of times, so Hank knows there won’t be any casual banter or interesting snippets of news exchanged with the goods.

Usually Josh is the one he meets with, sometimes Simon, and on that one occasion which he still is half-convinced never happened- Markus himself turned up. Jericho is one of the largest communities flourishing in the aftermath and has a functioning hospital, and the Chapman farm has, well, fresh vegetables and poultry. It’s a good relationship in this hellscape, one that gives him hope for a future.

“Truck’s all loaded,” Luther thumps the hatch as Hank makes his way over. “If you leave now you’ll make it back before nightfall. I’ll keep an eye on the house, I promise.”

Hank claps his shoulder. “Thanks Luther, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” the man murmurs, his voice more like a deep rumble in that broad chest. “Thank you for doing this for us.”

“Hey, I’d do anything for her,” it’s the goddamn truth and he isn’t too proud to admit it. “I’d do anything for any of you.”

“Be safe,” Luther squeezes his arm. “It’s your turn to read to Alice tonight, remember?”

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

He pulls out of the driveway, sparing Luther one last glance in the rearview mirror before it’s just him and the road and all the thoughts he tries so desperately to keep at bay. It’s been ten years since the outbreak, ten whole years since that cursed day he held Cole as his son bled out in his arms. It’s been nearly five years since Rose Chapman found him, half mad with grief and nearly feral with hunger yet too stubborn to die.

He doesn’t really remember the years between Cole’s death and him wandering onto the outskirts of Rose’s farm. She’d saved him, continues to save him day in and day out because he has a purpose here, he matters here, and there are people here he’d kill to protect.

Once the initial wave was over, once the violence cannibalised itself, people did what people do best- they come together, they rebuild, they reconcile, they strive forward. It doesn’t mean it’s completely safe, it doesn’t mean it’s all smooth sailing, but Hank can see a future now where he couldn’t see one before.

*~*

There’s three kids walking along the tree line; it’s a blink and miss situation, but he definitely didn’t miss it. Three kids, all alone, heading somewhere but nowhere close enough they’ll make it by nightfall. Ah shit. Hank pulls over and the kids are smart enough to dart for cover.

“You kids alright?” He takes out his gun and sweeps his gaze around, trying to spot any infected who might be lurking nearby.

“We’re alright!” One of them calls out.

“Shut up Connor!” One of them hushes the one named Connor.

“It’s only a couple of hours until sundown and there’s no camp you can reach safely on foot in time,” Hank approaches slowly, keeping his voice low. He sees them now, all three of them, skinny boys in ill fitting clothing with backpacks too big for them.

One of them has a bandaid stuck to an old crusted wound right in the middle of his forehead. The other has a bandage wrapped around his forearm, brown with age. And the last one is pointing a gun at him.

“We said we are alright.” The one holding a gun says icily. He can’t be more than ten, yet the look in his eyes says everything; the boy has been through things a ten year old shouldn’t have, but then the same could be said about most children in this hellscape.

“Two of you are hurt. I’m going to Jericho and-”

“Jericho?” The one named Connor perks up. “We’re going to Jericho!”

“Shut up Connor!” The other says exasperatedly, and Hank can see they’re identical twins with the only difference to be found in their expressions.

“I can take you there. Plenty of room in the truck.”

“What will it cost us?” The one with the gun demands, and Hank shakes his head.

“Nothin’. I just don’t want you boys out here all alone, especially once it gets dark and the temperature plummets,” he tries to reason with them, but can’t fault them for their caution.

“We managed to make camp just fine,” one of the twins says stubbornly but Hank can see it, can see that small hopeful expression he’s trying so desperately to mask.

“I’m sure you did, and I’m sure you can tonight. You just shouldn’t have to, that’s all,” he gestures at his truck. “This way’s pretty deserted but Jericho’s much safer and the truck’s much faster than going on foot. What do you say?”

“If you try something funny, Ronan will shoot you,” the stubborn twin threatens, and Hank nods.

“Alright.”

It’s a tight squeeze but three boys under ten are about the size of one grown man so it spares Hank the effort of rearranging the produce on the back. There’s a blanket Kara crocheted on one of the seats, and he tucks it over them and doesn’t miss the way they snuggle closer, huddling for warmth.

“Is Jericho nice? How long have you lived there?” Connor asks after a while.

“Jericho is very nice. It’s big and safe and there’s other kids in there too,” Hank explains, “but I don’t live there. I live on a farm down the other way, and we supply vegetables and chickens to them in exchange for meds and materials and shi- stuff.”

“You’re making an exchange now?” The one named Ronan asks quietly, the gun still held tightly in his hands now resting on his lap.

“Yeah, uh, Alice, a little girl about your age, she’s sick,” Hank spares them a glance. “Her cough’s getting pretty bad so we’re hoping to get some meds to help.”

“Maybe they’ll have something for me there?” Connor says so softly Hank barely hears him.

“Are you sick? What do you think you need? I’m sure they’ll have it there.”

“You’re not sick!” The other twin hisses, and Connor huffs stubbornly.

“That’s the problem Sean, and maybe that’s why I need help!”

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” Hank looks over at them and both boys click their jaws shut and refuse to meet his gaze.

“It’s fine,” Ronan says, the ice back in his tone. “We just need to get to Jericho.”

They spend the rest of the drive in silence, and Hank’s glad when the large gates loom up on the horizon. He doesn’t drive up to the main entrance, but takes a side road and stops the truck by a clearing where there’s another car waiting.

“Hey Hank,” the redhead greets with a lazy wave, leaning against the trunk.

“Hey North,” he nods respectfully as he kills the engine and hops out.

“Oh,” she blinks in surprise, “new survivors?”

“Yeah I picked ‘em up on the way,” Hank gestures over at them before busying himself with removing the tarp over the cargo. “They were headed this way so I thought I’d get ‘em here safely.”

“Doc will want to check them over,” North looks at the boys and Connor is the only one who offers a wave. “It’s just protocol of course.”

“They’ll need her help anyway- Sean has that wound on his forehead and Connor has the bandage on his arm,” Hank looks over his shoulder at the boys. “Blood looks old but it can’t hurt to give it a once over and a dressing change.”

“And the other one who looks ready to murder me?”

“That’s Ronan. He’s holding a gun.”

“Clever boy,” North smirks, coming around to the driver’s side and peeking in through the open door. “You boys want to come stay here with us, you have to get checked by the Doc first okay?”

“Okay,” they chorus obediently and Hank finds himself grinning helplessly.

“Got the meds and some honest to god wool yarn for Kara,” North informs him as she loads up a crate onto the back. “Otto farm about six hours away made the exchange and I kept a couple of skeins for her.”

“She’ll love that, thanks North,” he pats the crate happily. “And we all profit it from it, so…”

“It’s more an investment than a gift,” she grins before beckoning to the brothers. “Alright kiddos let’s go. Come in and grab a coffee Hank, while the guys unload the rest and refuel.”

“You’re a saint, thanks.”

*~*

Jericho is a nice place. It’s a really really nice place. It’s full of life and learning and healing. No matter how hard others try to take this place for themselves, no matter how much violence they try and inflict, the sheer resilience of its people keeps the place running. That, and well, having nearly an entire SWAT team complete with a Captain in residence can’t hurt.

Far better, kinder, saner team than the rabid FBI team led by Prickins from a few years back who tried to destroy Jericho and take it for themselves. The whole debacle saw over half of Jericho burned to the ground and dozens slaughtered.

It’s when he and Rose took in Kara and her family, because the sheer trauma was too much for Alice to process and she could never return. Adam stayed on as a nurse and found his calling. It feels like a lifetime ago too.

He takes his coffee over to the little clinic at the side entrance where newcomers are screened because he wants to make sure the boys are alright.

“This is a burn,” Adam frowns as he inspects the wound on Sean’s forehead. “How did you get this?”

The boy doesn’t answer, looking over nervously as doctor Anthea unwraps the bandage from Connor’s arm.

“Oh my god-”

“Fuck!” The expletive leaves his mouth before he can stop himself.

“It’s three weeks old we swear!” Connor cries, nursing his arm to his chest, tears in his eyes. “It’s three weeks old!”

Before Hank can comment any further he’s being slammed to the wall, North placing a gun under his jaw. “You brought a fucking kid with a bite into Jericho and expected to leave him here?!”

“I didn’t-”

“He didn’t know!” Ronan shouts, clenching his trembling hands into fists. “We didn’t tell him in case he left us behind!”

“He should’ve left you behind!” North growls.

“It’s old,” Anthea raises her voice. “The teeth indentations have healed over. This is new scar tissue right here.” She’s gently tracing the mark on Connor’s arm, the boy’s bottom lip trembling as tears spill down his cheeks.

“How the fuck is that possible?” North steps away and lowers her gun, too shocked to be angry now it seems. “Everyone who’s ever been bitten turns after eight hours at the most.”

“He must be immune, then,” Anthea smiles in disbelief as she smooths Connor’s hair away from his face. “You are one of a kind, Connor.”

“We keep him in holding overnight,” North declares, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just to be sure.”

“No, you keep us together!” Sean spits, fuming at the mere suggestion of separation.

“I don’t have time for that, I have to get back to Alice!” Hank argues and North cocks her brow.

“No one’s asking you to stay, Hank, you can go.”

“Bullshit! I’m not letting you lock up these kids outside of Jericho’s walls!”

“You can go, you got us to Jericho, you don’t need to do anything else!” Ronan adds and oh Hank can see it, Hank can see the fear of being left alone in those big grey eyes.

“I’ll go, I know the way,” Adam offers, holding his hand out for the keys. “It’s my home, after all. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“I’ll spend the night in holding, then,” Hank nods as he hands over the keys to the truck. “Tell Alice I’m sorry I’ll miss storytime.”

“You spend the night in holding,” North orders as takes his gun from the table and presses it back into his hand, “and you put him down yourself if he turns.”

“And then us too,” Ronan says in a voice so steady, so resigned for a child. “If you shoot him, you have to shoot us too.”

“It won’t come to that,” Hank says firmly.

“For everyone’s sake, I hope you’re right,” Anthea runs her fingers over the bite on Connor’s arm again before gently thumbing away his tears. “I guess we shall see in the morning, hm?”

The holding area must have been a security control room at some point. It’s now been caged by wire completely, with a chained and padlocked gate. He must be losing what little sanity he has left, but at least he’s not losing his compassion. No way in hell he’s about to abandon three boys to an uncertain fate, no matter how brave they’re trying to be.

“You could’ve gone back to the farm,” Ronan points out as Connor curls up on the lumpy mattress under the covers with his twin.

“Yeah I know,” Hank shrugs, nursing his coffee mug. Simon had left them with provisions to last the night, including a large thermos of coffee because he’s an angel in this apocalyptic hellscape.

“What if we’re lying and Connor turns and kills you?” Sean demands, though it’s not so effective given Connor’s clinging to him tiredly.

“Then I’d die,” Hank offers them the soup thermos. “Alice is still getting her medicine tonight, so that’s perfectly fine.”

“Don’t you have family at the farm?” Ronan accepts the thermos and pours out a cupful, handing it straight to Connor.

“Losing me won’t be that big a loss for them.”

“That’s a lie! Everyone has someone who’d miss them!” Connor shouts, nearly spilling the soup in his outburst. Hank admits defeat there. Rose would miss him, he thinks, because she’s all heart and soul.

She took him in when he was a husk of a man and together with Adam they toiled and tilled the land, took in every broken survivor and sent them on their way to Jericho with a full belly and provisions to spare. And Hank shot anyone who ever dared to raise their hand against Rose because people like that, greedy fuckers who want to take and take, have no place in this new world.

“What happened to you boys out there? What happened three weeks ago?” It’s The Question and no one seems to want to answer it.

“We wanted to go to the stream to see the fish,” Ronan eventually starts quietly. “We snuck out because Amanda didn’t give her permission.”

“It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have insisted,” Connor stares into the soup as if it could offer comfort. “I just really wanted to see them.”

“We didn’t see the infected one until it was too late and it bit Connor,” Ronan reaches over to hold his hand. “We tried to hide it but it was bleeding a lot and Amanda heard us in the bathroom getting the first aid kit.”

There’s a pause and Hank realises Sean hasn’t said a single word, resolutely avoiding everyone’s gaze.

“She dragged Connor out the back and-” Ronan falters, pressing his lips into a tight line as he darts a look at Sean. “She gave Sean a gun and told him to shoot Connor as punishment for sneaking out.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Hank swears, recoiling in horror and it makes sense now; the small burn mark on his forehead is from the shell casing hitting him.

“She made you do it, Sean, I don’t hate you!”

“Well you should!” Sean yells. “You should because I pulled the trigger!”

“She made you do it!” His twin insists, squeezing his hand. “She made you and if you didn’t she would’ve killed you!”

“So I killed her,” Ronan says evenly, as if he’s simply stating the sky is indeed blue. “I took the gun from Sean after he missed, and I shot her in the chest and after she fell over I shot her in the head.” Ronan looks at him defiantly. “So we’re fine. We can look after ourselves, you don’t have to care about us.”

Hank slowly sinks to his knees, taking the cup of soup from Connor and setting it aside before gently gathering the boy into his arms and reaching for the other two. He’s a big guy, he has enough wingspan for all three, and he enfolds them in as tight a hug as he can manage and that’s it, that’s what sends the last of their defences tumbling down. They cry loudly, the trauma of it all finally being given a proper outlet and he holds them and he vows to himself that he’s never letting them go. There will be no more Amandas in their life, not now, not ever again.

“Takes us with you,” Connor sobs. “Don’t leave us here.”

“We’re leaving once Adam gets back. All of us,” Hank promises. “I’m never letting you out of my sight.”

He’s used to watching the dawn, used to getting up this early now to feed the chickens and collect the eggs. He’s even used to waking up with a child still fast asleep on him, now that Alice treats him like a grandfather. There’s something different about this moment, though, with all three boys snuggled against him.

There’s something hopeful about this because it’s eight hours later and he’s still whole and alive and unbitten. And that means Connor is indeed immune. With Sean being an identical twin, that means he too could carry the natural immunity. The hope of the entire world, fast asleep in his arms. It’s a beautiful sentiment.

“Good morning Hank,” greets a voice at the gate and there’s Mister Markus Manfred himself; Jericho’s saviour and leader. “It’s good to see you.”

“Is Adam here yet?”

“Not yet,” the man shakes his head. “But Simon made breakfast for you and the boys. They’ll have a room near the creche with the other children, and we can get them settled in afterward.”

“We’ll have breakfast, and then as soon as Adam gets back, we’re heading for the farm,” he meets Markus’ gaze steadily. “They’re not staying.”

“Hank, Dr Anthea told me Connor is immune. That means we could work towards developing a vaccine.”

“You still can,” he shrugs as best he can with three sleeping kids piled on him. “We can make the trip every weekend. But these boys are coming home with me.”

Markus looks at him, scrutinising him, and Hank can see both the leader and the saviour at work, weighing up the pros and cons and trying to find the common ground for the greater good. Hank would never want to be in his shoes, no sir, no thank you.

“Breakfast, then?” Markus smiles one of his charming presidential smiles as he unlocks the gate and gestures towards the entrance. “Simon made pancakes and we cut up some of the strawberries you brought over from the farm.”

“Pancakes?” Connor stirs sleepily, rubbing his eyes and there it is, there’s the bite on his arm, three weeks and one day older.

“Yeah kiddo, pancakes for breakfast before we head home.”

“Home,” Ronan echoes with a soft smile.

“We’ll be good, we’ll help out on the farm and work extra hard,” Sean whispers nervously, and Hank runs a hand through his sleep-tousled hair.

“I know you will.”

Connor and Sean Dechart are ten years old- very nearly almost eleven, Connor points out. Ronan Dechart turned nine two weeks ago, a birthday forgotten entirely in the struggle to survive so Hank makes note to bake a cake. Their parents had died in the initial outbreak, and Professor Amanda Stern had taken them in after finding them hiding at the nearby university where she taught. The story unfolds on the drive back to the farm and the more he learns about their time with Amanda the more he’s glad Ronan shot her and shot her again.

Luther greets them on the driveway, Alice bundled up in a thick down jacket and blanket sitting on his arm. She waves enthusiastically, cheeks rosy and smile bright and Hank feels his heart squeeze in his chest at the sight. Rose is standing on the porch and she’s giving him A Look and he wants to say sorry reflexively but he’s not actually sorry for anything.

Alice takes Connor’s hand and drags him inside, the boys trailing, and she announces loudly that she’s giving them the grand tour. Luther claps him on the shoulder before following Alice.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Rose sighs heavily as she pours him a generous mug of freshly brewed coffee. Her tone is reprimanding, but there’s something fond in her eyes as they take a seat at the dining table.

“I couldn’t leave them,” he shakes his head. “Not out there on their own, and not even at Jericho. Not after all the shit they’ve been through.”

“Because you’re a parent, Hank,” she says it so softly, so gently and his breath hitches in his throat. “You’re a father. It’s just what you do. It’s just who you are.”

“They’ve been through hell, and they deserve better. They deserve a second chance.” His vision blurs as he raises his head and looks at you. “You taught me that.”

“I did, and now you’re teaching them that,” Rose is smiling, a big radiant smile and he can’t help but lean over to kiss that beautiful smile. As far as second chances go, he reckons this is about as perfect as it gets.

#Hank Anderson #rose chapman #connor rk800 #rk800 60 #rk900 #Detroit: Become Human #detroit become dad #dbhrarepairsweek #tlou au #annie writes: dbh

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eatsleepandsupernatural · 4 years

Text

Saved - Chapter Eight

Saved Masterlist

Pairings: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Warnings: Character Death, Angst, Character Resurrection, excerpts from 14x08

Word Count: 2,243

A/N: Hey! The following chapter does contain some aspects of the Supernatural episode Byzantium. I would like to just state that I do not own those particular paragraphs of this chapter or of course the characters (but we already knew that). You probably didn’t expect the chapter to go this way, it was my plan from the beginning because of an idea I had, can’t tell you yet. Anyway, hope you don’t mind and I hope you enjoy! XX

Tags: @akshi8278 @goddessofmischiefs @flutistbyday2020 @samsgirl93

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Tossing and turning, surrounding yourself with your Alphas scent, no matter how hard you tried, you can’t sleep. Your thoughts are on Jack, the image of him collapsing on the floor, coughing up blood, is replaying over and over in your mind. He had quickly become your closest friend, keeping you company while Sam and Dean went on hunts. You had made a habit of sneaking into the ‘Dean Cave’, cooking up some popcorn and watching movies for hours at a time. The way Jack’s eyes fixed on the T.V like an excited puppy always made you smile. You had barely known him, but the memory of him passing away, his hand grasped firmly in yours, was overwhelming.

You shove the covers off and leave your room in search of Dean and some comfort. You had gone to bed once he and Cas brought Sam back safely after he had left the bunker, feeling the need for some alone time. Hours have passed and your need for your Alpha grew stronger every second.

You find him passed out in the kitchen, surrounded by empty glasses and half drunk bottles of whiskey, snoring louder than you had ever heard.

‘Dean...Dean, you shouldn’t sleep here.’ You speak softly into his ear and gently shake his shoulder in an effort to wake him up. ‘Dean.’

‘I don’t think he’s waking up anytime soon, Y/N.’ You turn around to face Cas, who is watching you from the doorway. ‘Why are you awake?’

‘I never went to sleep, couldn't.’ You admit quietly, knowing what was going to come next, silently wishing it was Sam who had found you.

Cas glances between you and Dean before sighing and holding out his hand, ‘It would be unfair to wake him now. Come on, I’ll get you settled.’

You place your hand in his and let him lead you back to your room, but you don’t make it easy for him, dragging your feet along the way. There is no hiding the fact that you are frustrated with him, with everyone. Jack is dead and they are still hiding things. You want to know why Jack was sick in the first place, and for how long. You want to know why, whenever you ask about anything supernatural related you are ignored.

‘Y/N, what are you doing? Aren’t you tired?’ Cas asks when you pull your hand from his and take a few steps back to put some space between you.

‘I am tired. I am tired of being kept in the dark. Did you ever think that maybe I would have been able to help Jack if I had known what was going on? He was my friend, and I lost him, and I don’t even know why. All you guys do is keep me in the dark for ‘my protection’, but one day, that’s going to come back and bite you in the arse. I may have been afraid of the idea of monsters being real when I first moved in, but I’ve seen Sam and Dean come back from enough hunts to accept that truth now. I’m ready to fight, to help. Dean, he is never going to let me near a gun. I need you to let me help, teach me to fight Cas, please.’

Cas stares at you, surprised by your outburst. He frowns for a moment, deep in thought, before approaching you slowly. ‘I’m sorry you feel that way. I will talk to Dean.’

You roll your eyes at his response and slouch your shoulders. ‘Like that will do...Hey!’

Cas cuts you off mid sentence, grabbing you around the waist and placing two fingers to your forehead. ‘Go to sleep Y/N’

‘Y/N, wake up,’

‘Omega.’ A firm hand on your shoulder and the smooth voice of your Alpha draws you from a peaceful, deep sleep. Your eyes meet Deans tired ones, the bags sitting below them prominent.

‘Morning’. You sit up against the bed head, accepting the glass of water Dean offers you.

‘Afternoon, actually.’

‘Stupid Angel.’ You grunt, making Dean chuckle softly.

‘I had an interesting conversation with Cas this morning.’ He informs you, turning serious once again. ‘He told me you had trouble sleeping, went for a late night stroll.’

‘Didn’t realise that was something I wasn’t allowed to do.’ You shoot back. You aren’t sure where the attitude is coming from, but you are sick of Dean’s Alpha behaviour.

‘I didn’t say that.’ He speaks quickly, eyes scanning your face in an attempt to read your thoughts. ‘But he told me what you spoke about, and I’m sorry. Truly. My intentions were always to keep you safe, and in doing so, I’ve pushed you away. And you’re right, chances of you holding a gun in this lifetime, or any other lifetime are pretty small. But you’re also right, that I have been letting the Alpha in me control my actions, and I have been unfair to you. If you believe that you are ready, you can be put on research duty. That means books only, no knives, no guns, no ghosts. We got a deal?’

You stare at your Alpha with wide eyes, shocked and disbelieving. Dean stands up from the bed and smiles down at you, ‘You coming? You might want to get dressed. We have a guest.’

You take a few minutes to compose yourself, washing your face and brushing your teeth in the basin, before getting dressed and leaving your room in search of the others.

The library is not how you left it last night, furniture has been moved to the side, and Sam and Dean stand next to a table in the middle of what looks to be a very intense discussion making you pause at the door and hide behind the wall, you decide waiting out the conversation is the best idea.

‘Use the soul-sucking magic? Boy, that lady’s a peach.’ Dean’s tone of voice surprises you, and you realise this was one of the things he was trying to hide from you, his hunter side.

‘Listen, we talked about this.’ Sam interjects.

‘I know. Gotta happen. It’s the only way. Right. But I don’t like rolling the dice on some psycho ex-angel killer.’

‘I don’t love it, either, but taking risks, making crappy deals--that’s what we do.’

‘Yeah, and they usually bite us in the arse.’ You smile at Dean’s choice of words, remembering what you had said to Cas last night.

‘So, what do you want to do about it? Leave Jack in the morgue? Burn him?’ That’s the moment you realise that they were planning to do something about Jack, to try and bring him back. You had heard snippets of conversations before, you knew that both Sam and Dean had died at least once.

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Because, for me, not doing this--that-- that would be like letting him die all over again.’ At Sam’s words your heart almost breaks all over again and you struggle to hold back tears.

‘I want Jack back, too okay? I do. I just don’t trust Lily. Especially with my little eavesdropper.’

If you hadn’t had that conversation with Dean ten minutes ago, your heart would have dropped to your stomach. You straighten your back and peek around the doorway with a small smile on your face. ‘I didn’t want to interrupt.’

Dean rolls his eyes but waves you over, and you reach him the same time Cas comes up the steps looking more than stressed.

‘You got a twenty on Jack?’ Dean asks, eyes pleading for a yes.

‘Not exactly. Angel Radio is playing a distress signal.’

‘Awesome’, He replies, letting his arms fall, surely mirroring his disappointment.

‘All of Heaven’s gates are open, even the ones that Metatron closed.’

‘What could that mean?’ Sam asks.

‘I don’t know but it’s not good.’

‘More awesome.’ Dean says, making you reach out and grab his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze.

‘All right, well you go. We got Lily. When we’re ready, we’ll pray.’ Sam says, hoping that the solution will be enough.

Cas shares a look with Sam and Dean before walking away and to do whatever he had to do.

‘What’s going on?’ You ask, turning back to face the two Alphas.

‘We may have a way to bring Jack back. It’s risky, but we figured it’s worth a shot. You can hang around for now, but if I need you to leave later, you have to trust me. We’ve never done this before Y/N.’

You are tempted to argue but something in Sam’s eyes makes you change your mind. He is watching you carefully, eyes wide, pleading with you to reassure Dean that you’ll listen.

‘Got it, just tell me to go make myself some lunch, and I’m gone.’ As soon as you see Dean’s entire body relax you know you have made the right decision and Sam shoots you the biggest smile, to which you respond with an eye roll. It’s as if they don’t believe you can behave.

‘Alright, hand me that glass bottle would ya?’ Dean gestures behind you as he moves to fiddle with some paint and a bowl on the table.

You pick it up, inspecting the clear liquid inside before handing it over and you and Sam watch as he pours the liquid in and stirs the paint around. He picks up the bowl and holds out a piece of paper for him to copy from and you watch in awe as Dean expertly paints a large symbol on the wooden floor.

‘The instruction manual’. You had been watching Dean so closely you hadn’t heard the footsteps of another person approach the three of you and you jump away in shock as she hands an old leather-bound book to Sam.

‘It’s alright Y/N,’ Sam reassures you before turning to face the older woman who you assume must be Lily gives you a questioning look before turning back to Sam. ‘Thanks. All right, we’re almost set. Just got to get one more thing. I’m gonna go grab it.’ He says, he gives you a second reassuring smile before walking off. You watch him go, as he does, he grabs Dean’s attention and nods in the direction of you and the strange woman.

Dean puts the bowl and brush down on the ground as he stands up and walks towards you, watching where he steps. He gives you a quick smile before addressing Lily.

‘You know, I think we got off to a bad start. Um, I guess I should be thanking you.’

‘Apology accepted.’ You frown at Lily’s response and her attitude towards your Alpha, but you stay quiet, unwilling to test any boundaries on the first day. ‘Are you going to introduce me?’

‘Uh, right. This is Y/N, my mate. Y/N, this is Lily Sunder, an old...acquaintance.’

‘Nice to meet you.’ You nod from your corner with a small smile, not a fan of strangers. Lily was a beta, but she gives off a weird vibe that makes you uncomfortable.

‘There, you’re acquainted, great. Except, something’s been bothering me. Uh, you know, if this magic of yours is so great...why’d you stop using it? You’re letting yourself get old. You’re letting yourself die. Why? Why risk going to hell if you don’t have to? There’s something you’re not telling us.’

You raise your eyebrows at Dean’s words and look to Lily, waiting for her answer. Is this magic too risky to use on Jack?

‘When Ishim took my daughter, I swore I’d kill him, even if it meant burning my entire soul. But it didn’t. I have a sliver, a whisper of my soul left.’

‘And?’ Dean prompts, getting impatient.

‘May--my daughter, my little girl--is in heaven. And if there is still a piece of my soul...Now do you understand?’

You are deep in thought when Sam comes back carrying a box filled to the brim with candles. You watch as he places them down at different points on the symbol like he had done it hundreds of times before.

‘Sweetheart.’ Your head whips up at the sound of Dean calling from the other side of the room, breaking you from your thoughts. ‘Why don’t you go make yourself that lunch we talked about.’ You glance back over to Sam who’s already looking at you, one eyebrow raised, a reminder of your promise.

‘I was getting hungry anyway. You know where I’ll be if you need me.’ Sending your Alpha one last long look before making your way to the kitchen.

You take your time, deciding to make a pasta salad, one of your favourite home-made dishes from before your parents became alcoholics.

Twenty minutes later, one potato salad and a cup of tea, your curiosity gets the better of you. You quietly make your way down the hallway and poke your head around the corner to see Jack sitting up on the table saying words you don’t understand, Sam and Dean standing either side of him.

‘Was that my soul?’ He asks, looking up at Dean.

‘How do you feel?’ Dean queries, his hands hovering over Jack as if he is expecting something to go wrong.

‘Good. I feel...good.’

Sam smiles as Dean gives Jack a quick hug.

‘It’s good to have you back’, he says with his hand resting on Jack’s shoulder.

You are about to join them when you notice Lily sitting in your favourite chair, umoving.

‘Lily, thank you,’ Dean speaks from beside Jack.

‘Yeah. Lily..’ Sam’ voice is halted when he sees Lily.

‘Lily?’ Dean calls once more but there is no response.

‘How about Jack and I go back to his room, I can help him get settled?’ You ask tentatively from the door.

The Alpha’s turn to face you faster than you thought possible. ‘How long have you been standing there?’ Sam asks, his lips twitching as he tries to hold back a smile.

‘Long enough. I got bored.’ You smile at Jack who slowly turns around to meet gaze.

Dean rolls his eyes at your excuse for leaving the kitchen but keeps his opinions to himself all the same. ‘You wanna hang out with Y/N for a bit Jack? We’ve got some clean-up to do.’

Jack nodded, ‘I like the sound of that,’ he says getting off the table and making his way over to you on wobbly legs.

‘I’ve changed my mind, why don’t we break into Dean’s room instead.’ You suggest, wagging your eyebrows at him in excitement.

‘Can we watch Star Wars? I like that one.’

‘Jack, we can watch anything you want.’

#supernautral #superntural #alpha dean winchester #alpha dean x omega reader #supernatural abo #jack kline #castiel #spn 14x08

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ill-skillsgard · 3 years

Note

Hey dear:) I got a little Mickey and Adrian idea so maybe you are interested to write something for it please. Like imagine they are being best friends and want to move in together but are too broke so they look for another roommate. So what would it be like living with them together/ meeting them for the room?

Hello, love! Thanks for the request. It’s been a hot minute since I wrote any Mickey stuff or Adrian for that matter! Here’s a snippet of what I think it would be like meeting the duo for a roommate interview ^^

Neither of the two men fidgeting on the couch was the brains of the operation. The tall, lanky one named Mickey had a pen and notepad but chose not to depend on the preset questions. Instead, he gnawed on the end of the pen as he looked you up and down. The other one was strong and quiet until he introduced himself, and you thrust out your hand in greeting. Your ease put his worries to rest.

"So, listen, we know the ad said we're looking for a roommate, and while that's true... Uh, there's a slight hitch," Mickey explained.

"We don't have the room that would qualify anyone as a mate," Adrian added.

Mickey shrugged, flinging the chewed end of his pen in Adrian's direction. The blue-eyed man scowled, then turned back to you with an amiable smile. "But we have something lined up. We just can't afford the rent between us two... Yet!"

"Or first and last," Mickey said.

You let out the long breath that had filled your chest. The two men looked like they meant well, but it wasn't the situation you expected.

You pointed around the room and said, "this isn't your house?"

"Nope."

"Not exactly," Mickey winced.

"Mickey! Adrian!"

You cocked your head toward the woman's voice. Then you noticed their clothes and how ragged they looked sitting on the steam-cleaned sofa, an ornate wrought-iron and glass table separating you from them. Of course, these two didn't have the money for a place like this.

"Mickey!"

"One minute, mom! We're interviewing!"

An older woman shuffled into the living room carrying a plate of assorted store-bought cookies. You grinned in surprise and stood to pay tribute to the real proprietor and her generous donation of baked goods.

"Oh, don't you seem nice," Mickey's mother said after you introduced yourself. "Don't scare this one away, boys. I'll leave you three to your discussion."

Mickey leaned on his propped fist, rolling his eyes. "Mom, I thought I told you, no cookies until after she says yes."

"Hey, if there are cookies, you can consider it a yes from me," you said.

"Really? You don't want to see the place first?" Adrian asked, one dark eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"Nah, you two seem cool. As long as I have my own room, I'm fine living anywhere. Even if it's just a broom closet."

"N-no, it's not a closet. You get an entire room. I called dibs on the bigger bedroom, but you can have it if you want," Mickey offered.

Adrian scoffed, telling of a previous negotiation that might have ended up combative. You could tell Adrian had been vying for the room in question. Squinting at the boys, you feigned contemplation. "Hmm... Cookies and you're giving me the bigger bedroom? Well, I suppose that makes up for the false advertising."

Mickey slid to the edge of his seat. "So, you'll take it?"

"Do I have to say yes again?"

"Maybe don't decide until you actually see the place. It's nothing like this," Adrian twirled his finger around the meticulously clean room. Mickey's mom kept the home spick and span, which should have been another telltale sign you'd walked into an unintentional ruse. They had a spark of deeply woven brotherhood, rich in background and criminal record, and—smack-dab in an elderly woman’s bijouterie—they sat comically out of place in the best of ways.

It didn't matter what the place looked like; you knew becoming a roommate was much more than liking the digs. It was determining whether you could tolerate the person offering the room and all their poor habits and grating mannerisms.

"Well, let's go see the place then. And don't worry, I'll cover first and last. You two can make it up to me in other ways."

Both of them went dark as they chewed on what you said. You imagined at least one of them had conjured sexual thoughts, then dismissed them with a subliminal shake of the head. These were good boys. Perhaps a little on the dim side, but they were solid guys.

"What do you mean, like, doin' your laundry or somethin'?" Mickey asked.

You tapped your chin. "No, not quite what I had in mind. I was thinking you two could be my resident spider-patrol, dust the shelves I can't reach, um... intimidate guys that bother me."

"So, you want bodyguards?"

Mickey stuck his thumb in Adrian's direction. "He used to work a security job."

"Oh, really?" You said with a smile.

Adrian glared at Mickey, waiting for him to erupt.

"Until he got caught shoplifting, and they fired his ass."

"Adrian!" You gasped. "For shame!"

"Whatever! Everyone else did the same thing."

You giggled at them both. The pair might have been of the rough-and-tumble sort, but you had a feeling you'd get along with Mickey and his best friend Adrian just fine.

#mickey x adrian #mickey stuff #Adrian stuff #bill skarsgard imagine #alex hogh andersen imagine

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kissjane · 3 years

Text

So! Writer’s Choice Wednesday!

Here’s a snippet from something I haven’t even really talked about yet... So forgive me for keeping it a bit vague... But as you can see it has a big healthy dose of Oh no there was only one bed - which is exactly what the doctor recommended.

Enjoy!

Lucas looked like he might faint. Eliott decided to step in.

“Hey,” he said, touching Lucas’ shoulder. “You want dibs on the bathroom? If we run out of hot water I’ll wait until morning.”

Lucas stared at him with wide eyes. Eliott thought he saw fear in them, but exhaustion won out, and Lucas nodded.

“So where is the bathroom? And our bedrooms?” he asked.

Curly Hair scraped his throat.

“Uh, upstairs,” he said.

Eliott climbed the stairs slowly, bringing along the duffel bag, thinking they could divide the contents when they’d decided on bedrooms.

But when he opened the door at the top of the landing, he stepped straight into one big room with one big, but surely way too small for two grown men who’d never seen each other before this morning, bed. There was another door, and Eliott opened it, hoping it would be another bedroom somehow, but instead he saw cold tiles and a big bath and no more doors.

Lucas, who had followed him up, made an involuntary noise.

“Really?” he said, sarcastically. “They bring us here against our will, and they’re not even gonna make sure there’s enough bedrooms? Or fucking beds, for that matter?”

Okay, anger was better than panic, at least.

“I’ll take the floor,” Eliott offered, but Lucas shook his head at that.

“For who knows how many nights? No way. I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs.”

“With them watching you toss and turn all night? Hardly inducive to a good night,” Eliott snorted, and Lucas groaned.

“Oh, fuck. Can we send one of them out for an air mattress or something?”

“That’s not much better than the floor,” Eliott pointed out.

They stood in silence for a while.

“Okay, well, we can share, I suppose,” Lucas then said, sounding determined and deliberately neutral. “Unless you...” His voice trailed off.

“No,” Eliott said, his voice just as carefully schooled. “That is fine.”

He put the duffel bag down and opened it.

“Looks like we’ll be sharing a wardrobe too,” he joked. “But, ta-daa,” he held up two toothbrushes still in their packaging, “at least we have two of these!”

#SH AU #I write things #Writer's choice Wednesday #we live for WIPs

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eldritch-fr-ideas · 3 years

Text

Uh huh, sure Kir, there was definitely something chasing you down in the Shrieking Wilds, we all believe that!

[Oh, shut up, I wasn't imagining it!]

{Ok, but have you considered that you totally were?}

(You do imagine everything under the sun...)

You know, if you guys want something really scary...let me tell you the story of Ascua.

Ascua was my hatchmate, see.

Not in actual genetics, but our original lair had a habit of gathering up eggs on their lonesome, and we hatched on the same day, nearly the same coloring, although completely opposite eyes- my water to his fire.

But we hatched on the same day, and we grew up together, so all in all we just called ourselves hatchmates and that was that.

{Come on, get on with it, get to the scary bit.}

Oh, come on, let me have my buildup. Would you rather Ascua was some random stranger?

("Was"...did your hatchmate die?)

I'm getting to that, Rolla.

But for the record, no.

So. Lets talk about the volcano, shall we?

You all know our Great Furnace, yes? Well, we lived- not in the furnace, our clan wasn't nearly renowned enough for that- but in the Blacksand Annex, where land is sculpted by every dragon's whim, and it's therefore such a beautiful chaos, to know how many clans reside there is almost impossible. Right easy to get away with not paying our dues, or to steal from another clan.

{Holy shit, Verre committed crimes.}

No-

That's not to say that anything we did was illegal, it's just that we all only bothered to keep track of coin or custody once or twice a year, when the forgemasters deigned to descend upon us and take the best of what we made. It was just...easier to not, with the smoke, and it's not like we were ever scarce on anything that way.

{It's still stealing, even if its consensual!}

That is not how that works.

In any case, it was on one of these such days when our story, proper, takes place. The forgemasters had come down from their Great Furnaces to collect what they thought theirs, and, well, me and Ascua had gotten it into our little heads to go hide from them. We were, what, a few months old at best?

This happened long before the Rebellion started burning, of course, and our overseers were not nearly so strict, nor the Furnaces closed, and the two of us had witnessed the sort of chaos the Annex was thrown into the entire week before, over who owned what and what dragon belonged to which clan, and it had...well, it had made us a bit nervous, about why it all mattered.

If even Tegere, who was this great big guardian who kept us safe from harm, was worried, what horrible beasts these masters had to be!

They weren't, and aren't, of course, just dragons with power, but we were young and foolish and thought everything was dangerous.

(Sounds familiar.)

[Hey- shut up, ok!?]

(Mmm....no :)

So we decided to hide. Our little minds thought that, well, if all the horrible forgemasters were down here, none would be up there, and so...

We flew up.

The smoke was particularly thick today, and none saw us leave.

No one would have stopped us if they did, too embroiled in their own troubles.

And so up, and up, and up we went.

Nothing stopped us.

Some days, I wish something had.

We went up, and then we went down.

Down, down, down to the great bellows in the earth, into a place that dragon-made machine could never hope to tame, where we must build enormous contraptions just to give us breath, and then even deeper, where that machinery had not yet reached. We got hopelessly turned around, jumping at every sizzle of smoke, and then we found our way again.

It turns out that we somehow made our way into the volcano through a passage that doesn't exist on any map, that doesn't exist at all. But that was only obvious after the fact, when I went back to check, to make sure what I experienced was real, and couldn't find the entrance I went into.

In the Great Furnaces, there were dragons, proud smelters and workers, but none of them noticed us, careful not to say a word, make a sound. They were too focused on their work, and the pounding of the enchanted hammer was already far louder than our footsteps.

But beyond that, below, there was not a soul but the two of us.

And, in all honesty, that was far more frightening.

The caves down here were not lit by anything but the free-flowing lava, the blood of Sorneith. Shadows flickered, and smoke burned our lungs.

And still, we kept going. Our footsteps did not echo, the sound taken by the pumice beneath us, around us, but we did not speak.

We just kept going.

I don't know why.

I don't want to.

Ascua was fire, and I was water, and our matching slate-grey colors were a natural camouflage against the rock.

But for all we matched, we had our differences. Ascua was far more certain, far more...driven. I was reserved.

And so as the smoke became thicker, and the air became thinner, and we still kept going deeper, and deeper, I think something shattered, for me.

Like glass.

I wanted to turn back, and I told Ascua so.

He did not listen. He did not even hear me.

I wasn't afraid enough to turn back, and so with him I went, but now, there was hesitation.

And, now, I knew that something was watching us.

I didn't know what that something was. Even now, I'm not really sure. But it was bigger than the volcano it "lived" in, if such a thing could ever live like we do.

It was not a person, nor a monster. It was greater than all of that. It saw more than any of us would see in a lifetime, and it had no need for eyes or blood or flesh or skin.

It had no need for a mortal mind nor a physical body.

It had such a thing anyway, in the volcano. It was...

Trapped.

We descended deeper. There was no sound. The stone turned red-hot, burning our feet, and still we went deeper.

I looked at Ascua, and I noticed that there was something wrong with his eyes.

They were too bright, and there was nothing behind them. They did not move at all, fixed on a point I no longer saw.

And I wanted to turn back,

but there was no point,

because all at once we arrived at the end of the tunnel.

There was a cavern

Its ceilings were as high as the sky and you

Could barely see the walls

Veins of magma trailed along the cavern

On the other side of it there was another tunnel going deeper down

Everything burned, red hot, and I blinked to keep out the smoke

I had not blinked the entire way

But now I did

Imprinted on the back of my eyelid I saw

Something much larger than I

It paid no mind to the dragons in the Furnace, those forgemasters that

Had driven us down here in the first place

For although the volcano was a part of it

It was not a very big part

And it did not care whether every dragon on itself lived or died

Though every dragon was on its skin

And the Pillar of the World could crumble to dust if it shifted

Though cared not about it

All it wanted was to be freed

And the two little specks that had made it just a little deeper into the vast creature

Might be a start

So it beckoned us to keep going

To free it from its bindings of fire and earth

I didn't go.

Ascua did, and as he did, he burned, and his eyes set alight.

I still have scars, from when I touched him, tried to pull him back.

And as I ran, and abandoned my brother, the great enormous thing at the heart of the world was...disappointed in me.

It let me leave, for there was nothing I could offer, and it would not care whether I lived or died.

Better than having its attention on me, I thought,

And I ran up, and up, and up,

Although as far as I ran, I knew I could never escape

The vast body of Sorneith.

(Kir, are you alright?)

[Wh-]

[Oh, yeah, sorry, I just...swore I...nevermind]

{What, imagining things again?}

[N...no, I definitely...]

I- Shit, if you're actually scared, don't...don't pay this story any mind, ok?

It's just a story.

You're safe here.

------

hi its prophet anon again the premise for this one was "u know shadow and arcane and ice and water are really easy to eldritch horror but u know what? no, im going to eldritch fire. take some dragon ocs and the concept that the world is incomprehensibly vast"

The narrator is Verre, and they look like so: https://www1.flightrising.com/scrying/predict?morph=1487467

Ascua looked like so (although who knows what he looks like now): https://www1.flightrising.com/scrying/predict?morph=1487468

And the 3 other side characters are Kir, who is in [square brackets], Rolla, who is in (parenthesis), and Fonen, who is in {squiggly brackets}

This snippet was a lot more trope-y i think, but tbh i managed to write a first person pov without hating it so we'll call that a win

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

We forget what lays beneath. We forget what came before.

Even the gods fear something, no matter how much they hide it, and it will always come to light...

#offerings for cthgooloo #fr short horror #answered #submission #tw fire #tw underground #cthgooloo's forbidden tomes

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harrys-reverie · 4 years

Text

DOG YEARS // Harry Styles O.U.

Part 2: The Bar Cart

a/n: hey and welcome to part 2! this is kind of short but I felt that it needed to be it’s own chapter (in my head it makes sense.) aw harry and colette are v sweet in this one (i love them already). also there is colette’s face claim in the collage/mood board above including real pics from the soho farmhouse. :) comments, likes and REBLOGS are v much appreciated happy reading!

STORY PAGE // PART 1

What I had concluded throughout the night was that this small group of Harry and his friends were just so normal. It was so easy to watch him on a phone clip or on the screen of a TV for an award show and have a false preconception of who he was. After all, he was a huge celebrity -- it’s hard not to imagine him being a certain way. I never could have dreamed he would be the way he is though, I suppose that’s the beauty of first getting to know somebody. As the hours weened late and the clock neared 12 AM, I realized Harry Styles was as normal as any man in a baby chick sweater could be.

I had never been a massive Harry Styles fan, sure if his song came on the radio I bopped along. If I saw him on my Snapchat Daily Mail snippets, I’d read them every so often — but other than that I had no true preconception of who he was and what he was about. I guess that came in my favor because I had no high expectations from him and therefore he could only go up from there. Throughout the night the five of us took an abundant amount of shots and played a few childish ‘Truth or Dare’ games. I found myself taking a shot of maple syrup and pickle juice MIXED — Harry’’s idea of a dare.

This was the most fun I had since moving over here to England, and in the presence of all these ‘misfit’ like personas, I felt at home. There was no awkward beats, shame or egos. The whole atmosphere was completely judgement free and as light as a feather. I talked to everyone, chatting away about California, good food spots, sports and more. I found it so refreshing to be able to relate to other people’s stories about my home state, a place I was starting to long for.

It was fair to say that we were all peak drunk around 12, dancing along to old 70’s hits as well as current ones. Jamie tried to teach us all ‘TikTok’ dances she had learnt from her children back home. Of course the 5 of us tried our best to be choreographed and in sync, but failed miserably. Little did they all know I spent most of my free time perfecting these stupid dances. Of course any videos we took, were never posted publicly...but some did make the cut as a private post to a whopping 0 followers. Watching Harry Styles sing the words “I'm a savage. Classy, bougie, ratchet, sassy, moody, nasty” with a bunch of hip pops was an award winning scene.

So as it reached 1 am, I was near my max of what I could handle for the night. My head which was once spinning was now beginning to pound and that gross dry feeling in my mouth was taking over. I hated this part. I didn’t feel sick to my stomach yet but I knew if I didn’t get sleep soon I’d be regretting it.

“Hey, so do ya need a ride back home?” Harry’s raspy voice asked, reading the room very well. He had taken a sudden seat next to me on the couch, spreading his legs apart and laying his head back fully — complete relaxation.

“You drank tonight,” I reprimanded him jokingly. But I meant it, he was the most plastered of all of us. “You can’t drive, even if it’s just down the hill.”

“Can’t argue with that,” He hummed. “’M pretty trashed still.”

I turned my head towards him, he was still looking up as if he was admiring the wood paneled ceilings, taking every detail in. But when I looked closer, his eyes were shut. His face structure was flawless if I’d say so myself. His jaw looked like it could cut someone, his eyebrows full enough to make any girl jealous, and those floppy, thick waves — it was hard to admit that he wasn’t handsome. I blinked my eyes hard, trying to get out of the small trance I was under. I was drunk after all.

“Well…” I began, “I need to start heading down to my casa.”

“Well…” Harry chirped, directing his attention towards me. “If I can’t drive you back down, the least I could do is walk you there.”

“No, please,” I scoffed.

“Yeah, yeah. Shaddup and grab your coat, it’s about to get chilly out there.”

I knew I’d manage doing the walk by myself well enough alone. The premises of Soho Farmhouse were protected with heavy security and gates. I knew I had no reasons to worry about a swift 5 minute trudge down a hill.

“No Harry, seriously. I’ll be fine!” I argued back, forming a tight lip smile to reassure him.

“Who knows? A bloody chicken could be loose and start chasing you, ya? Plus, it’s my duty to make sure you get back safe. Now, up!” He instructed. “’M a gentleman.”

I knew there was no point in fighting back, he was adamant about it. Plus the look on his face when I obliged was well worth it.

The two of us said our quick fair wells to everyone who was still gathered round the kitchen island talking amongst each other. It might have been the alcohol, but I felt oddly emotional saying goodbye to all of them. For the first time in a month I made what felt like real connections with a group of people and all I wanted was to hang out with them forever. I was bummed knowing Jamie and Jeff would only be here for another week or so.

“Shall we take the wagon, bar cart contraption thing?” Harry offered, pointing to the blue wagon filled with alcohol.

“I don’t even have the keys.”

“Fair enough, walking it is.”

“Thanks for having me tonight,” I spoke tiredly.

“Don’t even worry about it. Glad to be of assistance in the ‘lit’ department,” He laughed, using quotations around the word lit.

“You’re very Americanized,” I noted. He turned his head to me, raising his eyebrow as if he had just been accused of something terrible.

“That’s why I’m back here in the English countryside. Trying to ween away from all that LA bullshit…” He admitted, running a hand through his hair nervously.

“LA bullshit?” I asked, appalled...maybe even a little offended. Although I had lived in Northern California, an insult to one city of my state was an insult to all.

“Yeah, erm, spent too much time there ‘s all...” Harry mumbled. I was almost sure by his tone he was not giving off the complete truth but I didn’t want to push. Harry started to fiddle with his bottom lips, hit teeth constantly biting it over and over. Most likely a nervous habit.

We continued walking along the cobblestone in silence, the click-clack of our shoes echoing through the emptiness of the night. Despite the quietness of it all, it felt pretty comfortable.

“I love LA,” I offered sheepishly. “I mean, as long as you surround yourself with the right people, I think LA’s one of the best places you could be.”

“Well you’re just saying that,” He countered. “You’re from California, you’re supposed to say that.”

“False!”

“I loved LA too,” Harry admitted, focusing his attention back to the cobblestone ground ahead of him.

“Loved?” I asked inquisitively.

He turned his gaze to me and laughed, “It’s complicated.”

“LA can have that effect,” I said back, trying not to delve any deeper. I had just met him today after all, there was no reason for him to trust me with any of his problems.

“I think you staying here will definitely be a big change. It’s about as simple as it gets.” I didn’t want to delve any deeper and invade his privacy so I took his explanation as it was. I couldn’t help but think there may have been a direct correlation with his quick mood change yesterday and his reasoning for disliking California.

“Looking forward to it,” He smiled. “‘S kinda just like, the perfect situation for me. No press, no distractions, just focusing on myself...the music.”

“Mmm, exciting.”

Harry caught my gaze, “You’ve got no idea.”

We began to approach my cottage, the smallest one on the property. The lights on in the kitchen we’re still on from when I left. They were now shining through the windows giving a angelic glow to the darkness of the night.

“No rush to get up early tomorrow.” Harry insisted as we approached the large wooden door. I looked at him excitedly, all I wanted to do was sleep in after tonight and he had just granted me his permission to do so.

“Really?” I questioned.

He nodded his head, “I’ll be sleeping in late too. Bloody tired.”

“Alright I’ll just wait for a text from Jeff..”

Harry cut me off swiftly, “Or myself.” He pointed a finger to his chest playfully.

“Or yourself,” I agreed.

“But don’t worry, like I said, sleep in and uh I’ll see you tomorrow maybe.”

For some unknown reason the air between us felt extremely awkward. I was still a little tipsy, but coming down quickly. I thought to myself that if this was any other guy, I’d probably be on my tippy toes and ready to kiss him, because why not? But it was Harry Styles. He was like my boss, I guess, and he’d have no interest in me. If anything he’d file a restraining order if I tried to pull something like that. I pulled my jacket closer to my body as the air swirled around us.

“Alright well goodnight!” I exclaimed bringing him in for a quick side hug. Harry quickly turned it into a full on hug, giving me a tight squeeze. He smelled divine. How badly I wanted to arch my head up and meet his lips, which were probably freezing. The alcohol just does something to me and makes me want to kiss almost anybody to be fair. Making out with friends whilst drunk was one of my famous traits. It was like he had handed his warmth over to me because being embraced in him I instantly felt warmer, any shivers I once had were gone.

He let go of me and awkwardly stood there, his hands flying into his pockets. “Just want to make sure you get in safe,” He noted, bringing his lips into an awkward smile, shooting his gaze towards the door.

“Oh yeah, of course,” I laughed nervously. I emphasized the key in my hand, giving him a big smile as I twisted it and unlocked the heavy door.

“Right,” He muttered.

“Get back safe!” I chirped, allowing myself to fully walk in the warmth of my cottage and turning to face him.

“I’ll text you.”

“Oh?” I arched my eyebrow at him jokingly.

“Goodnight, Colette.” And with that he turned on his feet, slowly waking back up the treacherous hill and to his abode.

I slammed the door fast, the thunderous noise vibrating through my whole cottage. I rested my back against it in a state of relief and confusion of the encounter I had just endured. Pulling myself back together and avoiding any intrusive thoughts I may begin to think, i decided to start up a hot shower and brew myself tea.

HARRYS POV

I felt weird. I hadn’t felt this way since the night I had met Camille, years ago at a friends party. It was a feeling I longed for, but also was scared of. The creative side of me wanted to embrace the feeling, the broken side of me wanted to steer clear. I knew the girl I had just waved goodbye to depended on this job, I couldn’t just ask for a replacement — plus, I was intrigued. I felt like I was at tug of war with myself over a girl I had just met earlier today. It was a tad ridiculous.

I figured the best thing for me to do was to only call her around when trulynecessary. It wasn’t like me to be this unwelcoming, but the feeling in my stomach that was creeping up to my mind was telling me to be this way. I wasn’t going to text her tomorrow for anything. Colette, right? Yep, that was her name — how could I forget it. A face as pretty as the name. I didn’t say much when I came back into my temporary home, instead I insisted I needed sleep and get a propers nice rest of what was left of it anyways. It was the most polite way to let my dear pals know to fuck off for the night. I loved them all, but I needed to get situated and I wanted space. Time to myself is what I cherished most.

I rushed up to my bedroom, shutting the door and entering the attached bathroom. I neatly undressed myself, taking a deep stare in the mirror. I looked at myself hard, the alcohol was still in my system so I appeared a little fuzzy. I felt older, my hairline was not what it used to be in the 1D days, it didn’t bother me but I had seen some tweets about it. My facial hair was growing in kind of unevenly, this is what I get for wanting to be independent and not have a stylish take care of how I look. I preferred it that way though, that’s how it should be.

Sighing, I went for the toothbrush and started on my nightly routine. I wanted to create a new set of routine now that I was becoming accustomed into this place I’d be calling ‘home’ for the next four months.

After freshening up, I let my body get underneath the cool covers, pulling them up high up to my neck to keep me warm. I stared at my phone that was sitting on the wooden table side. I always kept my phone on Do Not Disturb when I was taking time off for myself. Seeing a bunch of missed calls and emails stressed me out, and I wanted to detach from all that. I let out a puff of air, knowing what I’d be seeing if I decided to take a look at my phone. But the alcohol that was left in me couldn’t hold back so I reached for it anyways.

I quickly opened up the safari tab and typed my own name, something I was never keen on doing. I hadn’t done it for weeks actually, but I knew there was a part of me that needed to see what was being said. Just like that, a bunch of highlights of new articles and my name as well as hers were everywhere.

“Fuck..” I sighed, closing my eyes shut for a second. “Why..”

Camille Rowe, model and famed ex girlfriend of musician and heartthrob Harry Styles releases tell all book — including steamy details of her former romance with the star!

Click. I waited for the page to load, nervously biting my lower lip.

There’s a lot of things we should thank Camille Rowe for — her Vogue tips on how to achieve the perfect Parisian makeup look, inspiring the fabulous Harry Styles Fine Line album and now releasing a book telling us ALL about her old relationship with the man himself!

Details in the book delve deep into her once what seemed great, but now known doomed relationship with the singer. She mentions details of cheating, jealously and what Harry’s really like in the bed. Thanks Camille — you’ve answered all of our questions. Turns out, Harry is just as packed as we thought he would be!

I couldn’t read it anymore, I felt humiliated and invaded of my privacy. Privacy. The one thing I valued most in my life, the one thing I hold onto like it is the most precious jewel in the world. Privacy — the one thing Camille knew was the most important aspect of my life. I grew up in the spotlight, placed under a huge amount of pressure and scrutiny. I felt as if I was made from a testing tube so specially to fit into a mold of a person I wasn’t.

For so long in my life I had felt as if people knew everything about me, even more than I did — and that’s a harsh feeling. I regained that privacy back after leaving the band and learned how to maintain a healthy balance of showcasing who I was to the world but holding back at the same time. It was what made my albums, my art, so special. Making my songs and putting them out there was my own personal invitation to those who listened, to get a glimpse into my life.

I felt sick and the alcohol in my stomach stirred the more I thought about that damn book.I was getting older, and alcohol didn’t clique with my body the way it used to. I opened my messages up, seeing Camille’s name at almost the top of my list of new messages, probably trying to apologize. What she should have done was ask if I was comfortable with her releasing a book that almost solely focused on our past relationship. A relationship that was well done with for almost 3 years now. For fucks sake, I’d always have love for the lady, but she never knew when she took things too far. I finally felt at peace and fully over her, and here she was ambushing my life and swiping away my beloved privacy.

I swiped left on the unopened messages, deleting them before even reading. I had to focus on the positive, that’s why I was here in the countryside after all. I hadn’t answered my publicist since the damn book came out last week, I didn’t even know where to start or what to stay. I wanted to keep silent, MIA.

Tonight with Colette though, I forgot about it all. She was stunning, there was no denying that. Funny too, and a little shy. She didn’t come off star struck by my presence, she treated me like any bloke off the street. Normal. Dropping her off at her cottage tonight, after spending the past few hours with her bloody gorgeous face, I wanted to snog her face off. Was I getting too old to be acting that way? I didn’t want to scare her off though, and that wasn’t really my style anymore.

Hookups and shit. The amount of one night stands from my days in the band were shameful. Thinking back to having security bring girls we thought were hot to our hotel rooms for a quick fuck, was so common back then, it was insane. It was a part of my life that I felt deep regret for, and sickened me to think about. I was young, horny, and willing to give my body up to any girl. Most of the time, I felt awkward. I’d see a girl at the bar in a fancy hotel we were at, I wouldn’t even say a word to her, 20 minutes later I was back in my room, waiting for my security to drop her off for an hour or so. No phones, sign an NDA, show ID of proof of legal age, be my type and bam, she got to be fucked by Harry Styles.

Things were so much different now, I focused more on making those connections, I found it built more of an attraction. The lead up to the sex or the relationship, was now my favorite thing. After years of getting instant sex, waiting for it had now become the best part.

I shook my head, brushing away these invasive thoughts I wanted to avoid and memories I wanted to forget. Switching off the lamp beside me and placing my phone on charge, I dozed off.

#dogyears #dogyearsmasterlist #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanficiton #harry styles ff #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #1dff #1dffupdates #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x ofc #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #slowburn #friends to lovers

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