six sharps

A Chance

Prompt: “Just give me a chance!” He called after you, eyes desperate and body tense. You shook your head, “why should I?” It seemed simple, but it was the question that would decided everything. “Because. I’ll prove to you i’m not all that bad.”

A/N: So I wasn’t gonna upload anything again, but I thought I should and I just finished 13 Reasons Why. Though I won’t be writing for it since i don’t really want to normalize it or romanticize it because it means a lot to me, I did really like Zach. Who Ross Butler plays and I re-watched Riverdale and kind of fell in love with Reggie, so i’d thought I’d finally make a imagine about him! I hope you enjoy! 

Requests are back open!

Pairing: Reader x Reggie

Warnings: none.


Originally posted by kulo-ren

(yes, i know the gif is from 13 Reasons Why, but he’s shown more in that show.)

“Just give me a chance!” Stoping, you ran your hand through your hair, sighing. This was the fifth time that week that he’d asked you out and the fifth time you’d refused. 

Turning, you let your eyes run over his form. Reggie Mantle. Captain of the football team, well-rounded popular guy, known for his jockiness and of course a player. You don’t know what you did to gain his interest, you were nothing special. You were invisible to everyone else, and previously for him, except for Jughead who was your only friend.

But recently for some reason it seemed you’d caught the eye of the jock and he was to take you out on a “date”. You reclined immediately, after everything he’d done to Jughead (and sometimes you, indirectly) and then the stories you’d heard of him, you were hesitant. Reasonably so, you thought, and plus Juggie would kill you if he found out.

“Why?” You asked, staring at him expectantly. He looked off, as if to think of a reason, but you cut him to it; “so you can tell all your friends about how good I was? Or maybe… be added to your playbook?” You’d heard about it, and even though it’d been removed and destroyed, whose to stop them from making another?

His eyes widened; “no!” He shouted a little too loud, shaking his hands and taking a step toward you. You rolled your eyes, eyebrow raised as he finally walk close enough that you could smell his cologne. “Oh? Well then, why should I believe you?”

“Please, Y/N, you have to believe me.” He begged and you only shook your head.

“After everything, why should I?” 

He paused, trying to think of something before staring at you desperately. “One chance.”

“What?”

“One date. One chance to prove to you I mean this.” He held up one finger, staring at you. Looking around the empty halls and holding the straps of your backpack tightly, you bit your lip… “Fine. One chance, that’s it.” You couldn’t help but let a small smile slip as he suddenly cheered, jumping up in excitement and pumping his fist to the sky.

“Pops?” He asked immediately, you nodded; “meet me at six. Sharp.” He nodded and with a shake and a laugh, you walked off, exiting the school.


Surprisingly, you were nervous. Your heart pumped against your chest and you leg unwillingly bounced up and down. You weren’t sure if it was because you were nervous this was all a joke… or… 

Looking at your watch, it read six fifty fifty. Looking back you looked at the door of the diner, biting at your lips. No one entered and you were left staring at nothing for two minutes until sighing and looking at your phone. This was stupid, you told yourself, to believe this was anything more than just a play.

You didn’t know why you were getting so nervous.

Suddenly the bell ringed, and your back straightened, turning you saw Reggie run in, his hair unkept and a nice shirt on. Different from the regular varsity jacket he always had on. You couldn’t help but smile brightly as he quickly caught sight of you and ran over, sitting in front of you. You smiled nervously as he grinned openly at you.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized; “I got here as fast as I could.”

Confused evident in your gaze, you took a quick glance at your watch to see it said seven. Giggling, you looked back up at him. “you’re actually on time.” It was sweet to see him so nervous when he had nothing to be nervous about.

Pop’s himself came around and you ordered a strawberry smoothie and him a coke. You guys talked about all and anything, and honestly, you were surprised at how much you two got along. And how sweet he was. He seemed genuine and you felt gitty inside as you laughed at everything and anything he said.

Looking at the watch you saw it read ten and with shock, you shook your head. “I should be getting home. School tomorrow.” You explained and moved to stand up, you turned to your bag reaching for money but heard Reggie shuffle and turning you saw money laid out on top of the table, enough for the both of you.

“Oh, Reggie-”

“It’s a date right? My treat.” He smiled at you, and you found yourself mesmerized. Who knew playboy Reggie could make you feel this way. 

“Thank you.”

He grinned, and stepping next to you he offered yo his arm, making you giggle. “Shall we go?”

“We shall.”


The next morning, you walked into school with a skip in your step. Unbelievably giddy. Though when you walked through the doors that morning and saw the instant interest in you, you faltered. What if… Everyones eyes pierced you and you felt your heart break, so…

No one ever payed this much attention to you… so there’d only be one explanation. Trying to blink by the tears, you tried to miss the way guys stared at you lustfully and girls glared at you in disgust. You’d really thought. The tears came before you could stop them and you sprinted off, not wanting to be faced with this.

Though on your run to the bathroom, you bumped into someone. With shock you looked up only to see Reggie who had a concerned look on his face. You faltered, trying to run past him but he grabbed your upper arm, calling your name.

“What!” You snapped, red faced and teary eyed up at him as he leaned down concerned.

“What happened?” He immediately asked; “are you okay?”

“You tell me!” You yelled, gaining the attention of the crowds. “Didn’t you already tell everyone about how much of a slut i am!” you sobbed.

Reggie faltered himself, his grip loosening in shock; “no. Y/N, where’d you hear that?”

“No where, just everyones staring at me…”

“Please, you have to believe me. I prom-”

“Hey, Reg! I heard you were dating Y/N…” You heard a distant voice and looking up you saw Archie next to you, a grin slowly falling off his face as his hand fell on Reggie’s shoulder. He looked at you with concern as the silence became loud and clear.

“I- umm, yeah.” Reggie answered, staring back at you in concern.

“Well… I just wanted to say congratulations, Y/N’s amazing… and it’s not very often you’re serious.” Archie awkwardly commented, before running off. The hallways began to move again and you were left with Reggie but instead of crying, you’d stopped and were staring confused up at him.

“Serious?” You asked hesitantly.

Reggie shrugged, seemingly nervous. “Well yeah.”

“Oh… Oh, i’m so sorry!” You realized your mistake and with sudden confidence you leaned up and pressed a kiss against his lips. It was quick and short but he grabbed you around the waist, before you regrettable pulled away. He grinned back down at you, all previous concern gone.

“I told you. I mean this.”

A Blind Path Home, part 6

Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: I obviously took some liberties with the storyline, but I tried keeping it as true as possible to the canon history. No beta used this time around, so excuse my mistakes.

Summary: It started with a blind date. A date you had skipped out on, but fate had led you right to the man you stood up. Steve Rogers, a man small in stature but big in heart. A chance meeting set everything in motion, but decades later when he is unfrozen, he has been told you have died. But when a mission to retrieve Hydra plans turned up some interesting information, Steve’s left to wonder whether you are still alive. Or is this all just false hope?

Masterlist (if it works - links have been shity lately)

Keep reading

Huntress- Part Sixteen: Wayward Daughters

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E16 so warning: SPOILERS

Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Part five

Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve

Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen
Part Fifteen

Perched on the table, your legs swinging underneath you shared a bored look with Uncle Dean as he paced the room. Your Dad had his arms folded, but hadn’t given up yet. You knew Mick would come, he’d never turn his nose up at a meeting with the Winchesters- you could only dream.

“That’s it I’m waiting in the car-” Uncle Dean declared, readying himself to leave. Only, Dad stopped him. “Wait, come on-”

“No. Okay I didn’t sign up for this reporting for duty crap!”

“Just wait.” You sighed, not bothering to deal with any conflict.
“Sorry I’m late.” Mick’s voice made Uncle Dean turn round, shooting him a frown. “My report ran over. Everything’s been a bit hectic till uh…well,” he glanced down at the blood stain “Well. Best not to dwell.”
“Must be so hard for you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, enough. What’s the deal?” Dad silenced the argument before i escalated any further.

“Case in Wisconsin. Looked like an animal attack. The girl’s in the hospital, but her brother lost his heart. We recon it’s a werewolf.”
“That left a survivor?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe it got scared before it could finish the job?” Uncle Dean suggested. Mick shook his head doubtfully “Perhaps but it usually takes more than just a fright to put a werewolf off it’s meal.”
“The hell do you know that?” Uncle Dean scoffed.
“I studied them at Kendrick’s.”
“Kendrick’s?” Dad echoed.

“It’s where British Hunters train. Kinda like Hogwarts.” You explained.
“Cool.” 
“Not cool.” You countered.

“The case sounds easy enough.” Uncle Dean shrugged, ignoring any more points to be made.
“Then you won’t mind if I tag a long?” Mick tilted his head, aware he’d get some serious reactions out of that statement. You snorted, “Nice one, mate.”

“Mick, hunting isn’t really what you’re suited for…” Dad was trying to be a little more nicer about it than you had been. “There was a reason Mum never taught you.” You smirked- no doubt offending him in the process.

“I’m a fast learner.” He remarked “Our team were thinkers. We need to be ready for whatever happens next.

“One moment.” Uncle Dean threw his head back, gesturing for you and Dad to have a “talk” about it. When you were outside he rolled his eyes “No way this is happening.”
“Dean, these people have some serious knowledge.”
“I have that same knowledge, though!” You protested.
“Y/N’s right. Besides, you can’t learn this crap in a book. You put on a flannel, you pick up a gun and you go out there and you get good fast or you get dead faster.”
“He might come in handy.”
“What if he get’s himself killed?”
“I heard that.” Mick appeared at his side, making Uncle Dean back away a little from him: “Good.”


Unfortunately, Mick was in the back of the Impala next to you so you sat on one side, staring at your phone screen. To add to the excitement, Mick had one of his stupid podcasts playing. Sure, you liked interesting facts, but this was just torture. “Had to listen to one of his podcasts?” Uncle Dean frowned at his brother. Mick paused it, not wanting to miss anything.
“It’s educational. Besides, I’ve been wanting to listen to this one.” Dad sighed.
“And there I was beginning to think you weren’t so bad.” You rolled your eyes, getting a smile from your Uncle.

After they continued to argue over hunting, you took a headphone out and decided to see if it was worth getting into. “I’d take a handful of silver bullets any day over that crap!”
“That crap, meant that the last werewolf seen in England was in the 20s.” Mick sassed. You mimicked Mr K’s posh accent “The last serious werewolf case in the United Kingdom was in 1923. I can’t believe you listen to him.”
“Thank you for that, Ketch.” Mick rolled his eyes.
“Any time, Davis.” You sassed.

“Were they all evil?” Dad asked, going back to the werewolves.
“I’m sorry?” 
“Well not all werewolves are. We had a friend who was bitten, but he learnt to control it. Alongside lots of others.”
“Werewolf’s are natural born killers. Monster’s don’t just stop becoming monsters.”
“Mick-” You wanted to stop him, but he kept going.
“They live to kill!”
“Not everything’s in black and white you know.” You sighed.

Mick might have ignored you. Or perhaps he didn’t care: “Turn here.”


After flicking through endless lore books on all sorts of mythology, Dad, Uncle Dean and Mick arrived back from the hospital. They’d gone for more information, but it felt like they’d gone for a holiday at the speed they were taking things. They got in and began to explain what had happened.
“She wasn’t bitten?” You were surprised to hear that “You sure?”
“Positive.” Mick didn’t look at you when he spoke.
“So now what?”
“Well. You remember Jody?” Dad turned in his seat a little to face you.
“The Sheriff Hunter?”
“That’s her. She has two uh…adopted daughters. One of them, Claire Novak, is here working on the case. She’s gotta be about your age actually.”
“Novak?” You repeated it, you could have sworn you’d heard that name somewhere before. “Isn’t that…Cas’ vessel’s name?”
“Yeah…” Uncle Dean nodded “How did you know that?”
“He told me.” You shrugged.

Not that you’d admit it, you were excited to meet another Hunter your age. You just hoped she wasn’t a jerk…but, if Jody brought her up how bad could she be?

You sat down next to Dad on the sofa, Dean sitting the other side of you. Opposite was who must have been Claire. She had long blonde hair and the sort of eyes that changed from blue to green. She wore a jacket like yours, only it was green. She had the Hunter look for sure. Her head tilted and eyes furrowed in your direction “Who are you?” She asked. 

“Y/N.” You answered, not sure what else to say.
“Claire, this is my daughter.” Dad explained. Her eyes widened and she smiled a little “Daughter?”
“Sup.” You nodded.
“Your accent…British, right?”
“Which one?” You rolled your eyes.
“There’s more than one?” 
“Yeah-lots.” 
“Oh…sorry.”
You smiled “That’s cool.”

“You hunt?” She asked, obviously curious.
“Duh.” You smirked, making her smile.

“Beers all round.” Mick appeared, placing beers down on the table. “Who are you?” Claire was now even more confused.
“Mick Davis. British Men Of Letters.” Mick took her hand, shaking hers and his at the same time.
“Long story.” Dean sighed.
Long story.” You agreed.

You and Claire both reached for a beer when Dad and Uncle Dean stopped you. “No.” They both said, dragging the bottles away from your grasp. You both shared a look before sitting back.

“Either way. That alibi…massive lie.” Claire continued.
“Hayden’s Mom said the same thing.” Dad nodded. “Where was she?”
“Local dive bar. Eating trash…anyway she was on a date. But the guy was a total douche-bag. Motorcycle, weird-ass hair, snarky…grabby.”
“Grabby?” Uncle Dean echoed, he did not like the sound of that.
“I’m a big girl,” Claire assured him “I handled it.”

“Better call it a night.” Mick rose, having barely been seated for a minute.
“It’s 5:30.” You frowned.
“My reports due in at six sharp. Nice meeting you.”

You watched him go, becoming more and more suspicious but it was too ealy to say anything. “So…” Claire spoke up “Your foreign exchange student it totally lame.”
“Which one?” Uncle Dean joked. You hit his side, making him almost drop his beer. “Ow!”

Anyway,” Dad cleared his throat “Why aren’t you with Jody?”
“She’s busy with Sheriff stuff. Said to call if anything came up.”
‘Sheriff stuff’ sounded incredibly vague to you.


You watched in fascination as Claire dressed herself up to look twice her age. “Why do you keep staring at me?”
“How?” You asked in amazement.
“It’s so I pass as FBI. Why what do you usually do?”
“Wait in the car…” You admitted, realising how pathetic that sounded.
“That sucks.” She chuckled “Come here, I’ll show you.”


The Hospital was pretty big with endless corridors and hallways, but you found your way to the right room. Last night Hayden, who was in the hospital before, had died.”
“Any idea what happened to her?”
“The autopsy isn’t till tomorrow…it’s hard to tell. Perhaps a heart attack.”
“At her age?” You asked, well aware she was probably similar age to you.
“Well…yeah that’s what’s weird. Also, when we first found her she had gashes all along her arms. Now…” The Doctor pulled back the sheets to reveal her bare arms. There was no sign of any sort of wounds.

“Excuse me.” The Doctor left the room, leaving you all to ponder over the case.
“What the hell?” Claire started off with the same words that had been running through your mind since you’d arrived.
“What if she…turned?” Dad suggested.
“I guess that would explain how she healed…but then how did she die? And you said she wasn’t bitten.” You pointed at Mick who stuttered for words.
“Not that I saw.”

“None of this is making any sense.” Uncle Dean shook his head.

“But if she did turn then that means the werewolf wanted her turned.” Mick suggested. “So it’d have to be friends…family…”
“Someone from the bar.” Claire finished.

“Okay, Sam, you and Claire go talk to the girl she was supposed to be crashing with. Me and Mick’ll hit the bar. Y/N, pick a side.”
You rolled your eyes and followed on after your Dad.


Claire grabbed her headphones from the back of the car before putting her hand on the door handle. “Okay, so you wait here.” She ordered your Dad, making you chuckle.
“What?”
“You really think she’s gonna want to talk to some old skeezer…or us.” 
“She’s got a point, Dad.”You patted his shoulder before spelling aloud “B r b.”


After getting the information you needed from her friend you headed back out, only you paused in the doorway. “You coming?” Claire raised an eyebrow, turning round.
“I will be. Just need to uh…make a phone call.” You said, heading round the back.
“Okay.” 

You hovered over the caller ID before pressing “call”. It rang for quite some time, reaching the point where you almost didn’t think they were going to pick up.
“Y/N? What’re you doing?” He answered.
“You called me yesterday,” You began “Why do you keep calling me?”
“I can’t say it to your face..your Dad might overhear me and then that’ll just spark even more questions.”
“So what if he does hear you? All you do is say dumb stuff.” You sighed.
“I’m sorry. I should never have intruded on your family.” He sighed.
“You keep saying that. In every damn voice mail you’ve left.” You snapped. “I’m fed up. Just say it to me. It’s ridiculous! We see each other every other bloody day and you ignore me. But the moment you’re not near me you call up to say sorry for everything!” 
“You’re right…I’m not as brave as you.” 
“I swear to God the next time you call me I’m going find you and throw your phone off a cliff. Stop it. Stop leaving voicemails I never listen to and stop apologising. I don’t care anymore.”
“Y/N…”
“Mick. Grow up.”

You hung up. Fed up of Mick calling you. So what if he had things to say? If they were that important he’d say them to your face. He’d left those messages a few months back…he kept apologising and you’d had enough.
When you turned the corner you were greeted with the sight of Claire walking off in a huff from your Dad. Oh boy.
“What did you say?” You asked, looking impressed he’d managed to piss her off that quickly.
“Jody thinks she’s looking at colleges.” Dad sighed.
“And?” You shrugged, earning a shocked look.
“And?!”
“Yeah. If she wants to hunt she wants to hunt. She’s not stupid.”
“I know. It’s just not as simple as that.”
“It should be.” You sighed.

You were about to add to your point when you noticed he wasn’t fully convinced, but froze when a cry of pain erupted from the nearby woodlands. After worriedly glancing at your Dad, the pair of you leapt into action. 

You raced down towards the noise, fiddling with the inside of your jacket t grab your knife from the pocket. Only, when you reached the incident there was no obvious threat. “Claire!” Dad shouted, kneeling down beside her and clutching her close to him. She was still just coming out from an unconscious state, her eyes blinking into reality. You knelt down in front of her and examined her for wounds. Your eyes landed on her shoulder. The army-green jacket had a rip where the rims of the tear where dyed crimson. Blood was pouring from the scratch…no…bite

“Dad…” You managed, trying not to make it anymore painful for her. Dad glanced down to where you were looking and his face fell. “Oh God…”


“How long do I have?” Claire’s shaken voice filled the tense air.
“Sometimes it takes a full moon and sometimes it just takes time.” Dad answered.
“Can I help?” Mick asked.
“Stay out!” Uncle Dean snapped.
“I understand you’re angry-”
Dad didn’t let him finish “Listen. You killed a kid. We’re not angry we’re done!”
Mick turned his helpless eyes to you and you glared back “Don’t look at me I’m not helping you.” You spat, drawing your attention back to Claire. You sat down next to her and peeled the bandage back a little, examining her wound like you could help.

It had worsened considerably more since you’d last seen it. Now a deep red with swelling purples surrounding the teeth marks. You stuck it back over, patting her back gently. 
“Listen to me,” Uncle Dean knelt down in front of her and clasped hold of her hand. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but you can live with this.” He assured her.
Claire shook her head, “No…not me.”
“All you have to do is lock yourself up a couple nights a month. Other than that you’ll be just you.” He carried on, ignoring her protests.
“Dean listen to me!” She cried, making him stop “I can barely keep it together on a good day. I don’t want to hurt Jody…or Alex…I’d rather die.” 

You watched her eyes glisten with tears as she spoke, her hands shaking a little. You understood her completely, if you ever reached that a point in your life you know which route you’d take.

“Mick…there’s an experiment…it says here one out of nine subjects were cured.” Dad read over your shoulder.
“That experiment was on mice. It doesn’t work.” Mick sighed, but when he saw Uncle Dean’s stern glare he explained “We experimented with the blood of some werewolves.”
“You can reverse the early stages in rodents.” You piped up “Not humans.”
“How do you know?” Uncle Dean snapped, angry you were so against the idea.
“Because we tested on a human once.” Mick answered for you.
“And?” Dad pushed, his eyebrows raising expectantly.
“She died in agony.” You whispered, not looking anyone on the eye.

Claire hadn’t given up, it seemed: “Second time lucky?”
“No.” Uncle Dean stated “You don’t get a vote in this.”
“It’s my life.” Claire protested “I get all the votes.”
“Sam…Y/N…wanna back me up here?”
“It’s her life.” Dad agreed.
“Don’t, Claire.” You sided with Uncle Dean, not wanting Claire to die the same way the last one did.
She glared at you “Why should you get a say and not me?”
“Because I’ve seen what happens.” You argued, trying not to shout at her.
“That was one time.” She scoffed.
Please.” You were out of reasons “You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

“Okay….what do we need?” Uncle Dean changed his tune, having decided.
You stared at him in shock, feeling very much in a corner. Mick hesitated “Uh…blood from the werewolf that bit her.”
“Okay, me and Sam’ll go. Y/N, you stay here and make sure he doesn’t kill again.” Uncle Dean pointed at Mick.
You nodded reluctantly, you couldn’t believe they were actually going along with this. When the door closed you slumped back in the chair, lost for words and to tired to say anything if you knew what to say.

After a few minutes of silence Claire spoke up- “Why are you so against this idea?”
“Like I said, I’ve seen it happen. It didn’t end well. Not for anyone.” You sighed, sharing a worried glance with Mick. Then, you got angry. “Why did you tell them. If you’d have kept your stupid mouth shut none of this would have happened!” You shouted at him.
“I-I didn’t mean…”
“Shut up! I’m fed up with you and your-” Your rant was broken by Claire hissing of pain, she stumbled over some furniture as she tried to turn in the mirror to see her bite-mark.
You held your tongue, forcing yourself into silence so she didn’t feel anymore stressed. “This is your fault.” You murmured before helping Claire.

“It burns!” She managed through her deep breaths. The three of you watched as her wounds began to heal- she was beginning to turn.
“Claire, we need to tie you up so you don’t hurt anyone and so we don’t have to hurt you, okay?” You said calmly.

She ignored you and reached for the gun, Mick grabbed it in the nick of time and held it out in front of himself. “Please, you don’t understand.” Claire hissed through the pain “It’s happening. Give it to me!”
“No.” 
You froze. You didn’t know what to do anymore. Death by a bullet would be less painful than what was to come…but what if she was right? What if it did work? “Then you do it!” She begged. Her desperate eyes then fell on your gun in your pocket “Or you! If you want me dead so bad!”
“That’s not what I want…Mick put the gun down.” You ordered him.
“I know a man that would shoot you right now without second thought. Every instinct I have tells me to do the same…but my instincts haven’t been so grand of lately…” You listened curiously as Mick explained “So sit down. I’m not gonna shoot you.”
You offered your hand as she stumbled towards the sofa, helping her sit down. She didn’t let go.

“With any luck, when you wake up this will all be over.” Mick trid to reassure her as he put everything together ready to restrain her.
“If I wake up.” Claire corrected.

A loud crash tore your attention away from her as a man with a skull mask opened up the doors. “Stay back!” Mick shouted. He attempted to shoot the man with his pistol, but the man was much quicker. He dodged and slammed his fist into Mick’s head, making him unconscious. You and Claire shared a worried look, she smashed a vase onto his head, but it didn’t seem to phase him. You reached for your gun yet realised halfway that this must be a werewolf. Bullets meant nothing and you were out of silver. That hesitation was your mistake, a heavy object smashed into the side of your head and you were out cold.

“Claire!” A familiar shout dragged you into reality. “…Y/N!”
You felt two strong arms haul you up off the floor, forcing you to look into their eyes. “Dad..” You groaned, feeling the dried blood on the side of your head.
“What happened?” He asked, running a thumb over your wound. You winced but didn’t complain as he made sure you were okay “The wolf…I think he took her.”
“Three versus one and you couldn’t stop him!” Uncle Dean shouted. He wasn’t just angry at Mick but you as well. “Dean, come on. That’s not fair.”
You ignored your Uncle. “We need to find her.” You tried to ignore the pain on the side of your head as you dragged yourself up, not accepting the help from your Dad.

“I put a tracker in her pocket.” Mick said.
“You planted a bug on her?!” Dad shouted in disbelief, making you flinch a little.
“You can kill me after we find Claire.”


Ready for a fight, you charged into the building. Dad went straight for the werewolf, tackling him to the floor. You followed Uncle Dean to where Claire was tied up, only as he reached for the rope you grabbed onto his jacket and tugged him back. “She’s turned!” You warned over the timpani of clatters. She growled, her sharp teeth and bright eyes revealing how there was no more Claire.
Despite her reins she broke free and lunged at the pair of you. Immediately, Uncle Dean stepped out in front of you and threw her against the cabinets behind. “Sorry, kid.” He apologised.

A blur appeared in your peripheral vision and you ducked just in time, parrying to the left before kicking the wolf away from you. You then leapt over to where a gun, fully loaded with silver bullets, was lying. You reached for it in a panic, cocking it and aiming. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

The shot rang out, followed by the wolf collapsing in front of you. You watched as it fell to the floor, the needle still sticking out of it’s neck.
You handed Mick his gun back without bothering to look at him. He took it before kneeling down next to the werewolf, taking out the needle to extract the blood.

“Move.” You warned him, watching as Claire began to waken.
He side-stepped away, joining your Dad and Uncle. “Is that thing ready?” Uncle Dean barked.
“Ready.” Mick handed it to him, stepping away once more.
Just as she fully regained consciousness she lunged at Dad, who blocked, allowing Uncle Dean to inject the blood.
She hunched over in agony before staring upwards, her eyes somehow even more yellow than before. Somewhere between a scream and a growl erupted from her throat before she collapsed.


You couldn’t bare this any longer. Minutes, that felt more like years, of watching as Claire shook and cried out and shifted and screamed. You tore your eyes away.
This couldn’t be happening. Not again.

“I need some air.” Uncle Dean mumbled then left the room.

You held your head in your hands, not wanting to watch any longer.

Her cries grew louder as she adjusted her position in a constant cycle. She growled and hissed and cried. She whined and groaned and jolted. She twisted and shouted and…

She fell still.

You glanced up, Dad managed a quiet “Claire?” before raising his voice “Dean.”

Uncle Dean walked back in, he noticed your pale face, your Dad’s blank stare and the silence. His eyes fell on Claire’s still body and his heart sank.

A small murmur made you properly look up. You watched in amazement as her sharp claws retracted and her body stirred. Claire’s eyes, her eyes, opened slowly. “You guys look like crap.”


The drive back to the Bunker was silent on your part. You half listened as the brothers upfront bickered about nonsense and lightly argued over small-talk. You didn’t wear headphones.
Your eyes followed the scenery outside back and forth along the roadside, but your mind was elsewhere.

You barely noticed that you’d made it home until the slam of Uncle Dean’s door dragged you back to reality. “You coming, kid?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘no’ you wanted to say, thinking about curling up into a ball and falling asleep there and then just to prove a point: “…Yeah.”

Part 17: Power

Masterlist
I do not own these gifs

(Tag list after cut)

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Muse - “Something Sweet”

hi guys!!! this is gonna be a new series i’m starting ( if you’re into it ) – part two and part three

what??? a lin fic with an in the heights reference for the title?? groundbreaking am i right

i’ve never written before (wish me luck) and I know i’m very very very very new here but please gimme a moment of ur time and we can see how things go !!

summary: all nighters take a toll on everyone, but who knows? maybe a cup of cheap coffee really can fix everything

word count: 1186

warnings: if you think a cute & stuttering young lin is gonna make ur heart feel too big for your rib cage then maybe this isn’t 4 u? also if you hate dumb grins, you should see urself out

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paper airplanes - part one

Phil Lester was in love with him.

He was in love with the mysterious boy who lived in the large pastel blue house next to his, the one with the Sakura trees carved into the shutters, the boy who sat on his balcony at exactly the same time every evening and did nothing but cry.

And it was irrational and completely silly considering Phil had never actually talked to him.

Dan Howell was the most beautiful boy Phil had ever seen. He had chocolate eyes and gorgeous skin that Phil desperately wanted to touch, everywhere. He looked soft, like an angel or a cloud, he looked like he smelled like vanilla and rain.

But of course, Phil wouldn’t know this, considering he had never been close enough to find out.

Dan Howell had moved in next to him junior year, and Phil had been completely and hopelessly lost since then.

Dan sat on his balcony every day at six o clock sharp. Phil wasn’t sure exactly why, but it happened every day, and Phil was always sure he was ready for it.

It had occurred to Phil that it was probably pretty creepy, but it was the only time he seemed real.

At school he wandered around like a ghost, hiding under his hood and keeping his eyes glued on his feet. On the balcony, when he was alone, he was real.

Every day Dan sat on his balcony and sobbed his heart out until he was shaking, his eyes red and his hair messed up from tugging at it.

And Phil Lester wanted to know why.

ten minutes in heaven [warren worthington iii]
warnings: Language, Sex mention (a lot), light smut (like this gets kind of heavy, but I do not write actual smut so)

word count: 2057


    It had started out harmless.

    Just a harmless game of truth or dare, but then again, nothing involving these rowdy teenagers was innocent.

Scott had gotten cocky, as he did on occasion, and called the group together. He claimed that you were going to have some ‘team bonding.’ You had laughed and asked him what that meant, but he would not tell you, instead forcing you into the room where everyone was gathered.

When everyone gathered in the living area, you sat on the couch next to Warren. This led to the group letting out various wolf whistles because they all knew that you and the angel were dating.

Scott then announced that you would be playing a few games of truth or dare. You had rolled your eyes and muttered, “Yeah, ‘team bonding.” It was a sarcastic, quiet mutter, and you thought no one had heard you, but Scott, from your other side, pushed you off the couch. You landed on the ground with a huff and looked up at your boyfriend who was laughing at your current predicament.

You turned and slapped him on the knee, but the action only caused him to laugh even harder.

“I’m sorry, baby. You’re just too cute,” Warren made out through gasps and chuckles. You frowned and crossed your arms like a child, and Warren reached down. He grasped you by your arms and pulled you up to your feet. He then proceeded to pull you into his lap, seeing as Kurt had taken your spot on the couch.

Warren wrapped one of his wings as well as an arm around you and squeezed your body close to his. You snuggled closer to him, laying your head underneath his chin and wrapping your arms around his neck. The Archangel dropped a small kiss to your forehead and the rest of the group groaned at your public display of affection.

Seconds later, Scott was trying to explain to Kurt what the game was as the smol blueberry cutie had no idea what truth or dare was.

You laughed and got off of Warren’s alp to grab a drink from the kitchen, questioning if anyone else wanted anything. Peter had called out that he wanted a soda and a Twinkie, and you chuckled telling him that you’d only get the soda.

When you arrived back in the room, you tossed the can of soda to Peter who quickly grabbed it and popped the lid. You sauntered back to Warren who held out his arms childishly, wanting you to come and sit on his lap once again.

“C’mere baby,” He seductively spoke, the words causing your cheeks to enflame and turn a bright shade of pink.

You walked back over to your cherubic boyfriend and when you got close enough, he reached out and grasped your hips. He yanked you down into his lap and wrapped his wings around you once more. He knew that you absolutely adored his feathered wings, which he had recently gotten back thanks to Hank’s intelligence. You stroked the pristine, white feathers in your hands, and Warren attempted to contain a small moan, but was unable. He groaned out and tossed his head back, causing the rest of the group to holler and laugh at him. Warren blushed, but was not ashamed; his wings were sensitive and when you stroked them, he was unable to hold back his pleasure.

When the game finally started, it had been innocent. Small, easy questions like ‘who do you like?’ or ‘how old were you when you had your first kiss?’ Simple dares like: ‘go jump in the pool’ and ‘go scare Charles and Erik downstairs.’

Then it got dirty.

Scott had asked Jubilee when she lost her virginity.

Jean dared Peter and Kurt to kiss.

You had chuckled and hoped that no one thought to ask you anything bad.

Then Peter spotted you.

It had coincidentally been his turn and he asked you to pick truth or dare, and you had bravely picked dare. That had been a mistake on your part.

Peter rubbed his hands together, a plan forming in his head.

“Stand up,” The silver haired speedster commanded, so you did. He then told Warren to do the exact same thing.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked to Peter, “What are you doing Peter?”

Peter laughed and then replied, “You and loverboy are going to play my favorite game: Ten Minutes in Heaven.”

Warren chuckled with his arms still wrapped around your waist, “Peter, it’s Seven Minutes in Heaven, dumbass.”

Peter rolled his eyes at the wing-adorned boy, “Yeah, I know that. I just don’t think you can get anything done in that time. I mean, you’re not me.” Peter boasted, which caused you to lean farther into your boyfriend with a smirk. You had been dating for a few years, and you knew exactly what he could do with seven minutes.

Warren smirked and his wings tightened around your frame, “Oh, I think seven minutes is enough time to get her crumbling beneath me.”

Your eyes widened at his blunt remark, the rest of the room letting out cat hollers and whistles. Warren only continued to smirk before rolling his lips into your back. You coughed and sputtered when you felt his obviously hard erection on your back. Warren held you tighter to him and repeated the action which led to Peter yelling at the two of you to get started in the room rather than in front of him.

You laughed nervously and stared up at Warren. You marveled at the tattoos on the sides of his face and the side of his scalp. You grew aroused when you thought about how the tattoos followed down his sides and onto his muscular stomach. Having the pleasure to trace those tattoos with the tips of your fingers and your tongue one night was the best thing you had ever experienced. Well, it was not really your pleasure, more like Warren’s. He had groaned and arched his back when you lightly traced the lines close to the hem of his sweat pants. Beads of sweat rolled of his forehead as you played with the strings that kept his pants from falling off. Warren continued to groan until you used your fingers to pull the sweat pants off.

By the time you came back from the memory, Warren was dragging you in the direction of his room. You followed behind him, almost melting in your own arousal.

When you reached his room, the door was immediately shut behind you and Warren reached behind you to lock it. Before you could do anything, Warren had you pressed against the door, his lips finding your neck and latching on. He used his plump lips to scour for your sweet spot, and when he did, you let out another moan and tossed your head back against the wooden door. The archangel smirked against your neck and sucked on the spot harder, no doubt leaving a dark purple mark for you to cover later.

Warren let his lips still for a moment before he spoke, “What do you think, baby? Think I can get you crumbling beneath me in seven minutes?”

You nodded your head frantically before responding, “Fuck yeah, you can. You just might need some more time after for a few extra rounds.”

Warren smirked again and began walking backwards, his wings expanding to their full fifteen foot length. You practically melted at the sight of his wings, and Warren knew it. He knew you had a fucking wing kink and used it to his advantage. The angel knew that the thing you loved most about him (Well, this was debatable) was his large, white wings. Warren smirked and puffed out his feathers and let you watch them for a few moments, before he extended his muscular arms as well. He nodded his head once before he flexed his biceps, the action causing you to whimper under your breath.

Warren chuckled and motioned for you to step forward, “Then we better get started, babygirl.”

You moved forward, attaching your lips to his. Warren responded with enthusiasm, tilting his head to the side so he could dominate. He slipped one hand up to your neck, tilting your own head to the side. He ran the tip of his tongue along the edge of your bottom lip. Granting him access to your mouth, he slipped his tongue into your mouth and rolled his hips up into yours. You groaned and Warren pulled his mouth away for a split second to whisper, “Jump.”

So you did.

You jumped into the air, trusting Warren to catch you. When he did, his arms were underneath your ass, supporting your weight.

The blonde angel walked backwards towards his bed. He let you fall first, so that he could lay on top of you. He reconnected his lips to your neck, allowing you to arch your back into his chest. You dropped your hands to run down his hard chest and you played with the hem of his shirt. Warren got the message and leaned back away from your body so that he could pull the shirt over his muscular body. It seemed to go in slow motion as you watched the shirt leave his body.

God, you had the hottest boyfriend.

From his muscular biceps, his chiseled six-pack, and his sharp v-line; you melted under him.

Warren let you watch him for a few moments before he reached down and pulled your shirt over your own body. This led to him marveling your body just as you did to him.

“I’m so lucky,” Warren whispered, his eyes deep and dark with lust as they scanned over the bare skin.

You pulled his lips back down onto yours by grabbing him by the back of his neck. He let one of his hands drop and roam around your body. You let out a few moans as he did so, and you raised a hand to pull on his gorgeous blonde locks. This caused Warren to let out one of his own moans, and you smiled at you achievement.

As for Warren’s wings, they were transferring between extending to their full length and curling around your body. At one point, you raised your other arm to stroke his sweet spot. Because his wings were sensitive as he just got them back, he had a sweet spot; it was just above his right shoulder blade. When you stroked it with your fingers, Warren collapsed above you. He kept his weight from crushing you, but his wings shuddered and his head threw back. He moaned out again and you let yourself arch into him.

Warren took your lifted back to his advantage, so he reached behind you to grab ahold of the clasps of your bra. With one flick of his fingers, he unclasped it from your chest. He quickly pulled the straps from your arms and let the material fall. He chucked the useless bra away from you, his movements becoming frantic and rushed as he grew more aroused.

When Warren finally let his hands fall to the hem of your pants, there was an interruption.

Knocking was heard on the door, and a voice shouted out, “Hey, your time is up!”

Peter.

The both of you ignored his voice and continued your actions.

Minutes later, Peter knocked again, “Hey guys? Can you even hear me over your fucking?”
    Warren laughed against your skin and pulled his head up from your stomach, where he was layering kisses along the soft skin.

The angel spoke next, diverting Peter from opening the door, “Hey Peter? Can you please fuck off? We’re going to stay in here to finish some important business!”

You moaned beneath Warren as he reattached his lips to your stomach.

Peter was heard shuffling outside the door and his voice rang out one last time, “Okay fine, but if you guys fuck again, can you keep it down? I didn’t get any sleep last time you fuckers went at it!”

Warren ignored the comment and finally let his lips graze the hem of your pants. Then in one swift motion, he pulled the pants off of you and smirked, “Let’s see what I can do with unlimited time then.”

Backup Prince // Yoon Sanha

-

the prompt: I wanted to request a fluffy Sanha scenario where you’re a theatre actress playing the lead in a musical and he works backstage and the actor playing your love interest drops out so he has to fill in last minute.

words: 2604

category: fluff

author note: i don’t write abt sanha much but when i do it’s always a pleasure. also this took forever to finish for some reason so sorry for the wait.

- destinee

Originally posted by eunswoos

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Date a girl who lives in the sewers and avoids the sun. Date a girl who is 9 feet tall, super lanky, with sharp teeth, six inch claws, matted hair, and no pigmentation. Date a girl who is blind but has very strong senses of hearing and smell.

Luckiest Man on Earth

Request: Please do a super sad but cute ending for Jason Blossom imagine please!!! 💕

I’ve decided this isn’t going to include him dying lolololol. Also I’m not really that into Jason so this is pretty short and not super well written. Also I barely followed the request soz

Originally posted by dontjokeaboutjasonblossom


You and Jason Blossom were never meant to be.

He was a shining light in your world. Too bright to focus on without it hurting you. You were just a girl in a small town with no money and no real family. He was out of your reach. Untouchable.

At least that’s what you thought.  

Jason first noticed you freshman year. There had been something about the fire in you that caused him to feel drawn to you. After that first day he started to fall, he made no resistance. He just fell hard and fast.

It had been any other day for you, really. Cheryl Blossom was on the prowl, looking for a poor soul to torture. Unfortunately for you, you were late to a class and not looking where you were going when you barreled straight into her.

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anonymous asked:

sad Kakashi scenario

I thought this was good, but I don’t know now. 

Originally posted by hatake-k

Gazing at his reflection in the mirror, Kakashi inhaled slowly, taking the deep breath in with the hope of displacing the heavy weight that was had been bearing down on his chest for the last four days. Though he knew that all of his attempts would be in vain, he still tried, well aware that he was going to have to be presentable for at least the next six hours, and the sharp pain in his chest was not going to help him one bit in these following hours. Right then, he was at a point where he wish he had become numb, where he couldn’t feel the heaviness of the reality that he was now living, but he was still very much in a state of shock with every little moment that passed bringing upon a different pain, each worse than the last.

Straightening out his tie, the man worked on his appearance, trying to ignore the fact that his entire world had fallen apart in a matter of mere hours. Everything still felt surreal to him, like he was just stuck in some strange sort of Purgatory where he couldn’t move forward and escape the all these terrible things. Kakashi had run through the last four days over and over and over again, but nothing felt right; nothing felt true. He knew that he hadn’t come to grips with it all just yet, but by the end of the day, he was going to have face everything whether he was ready or not. Still as he stood in front of the mirror, making sure that he looked his best for this funeral, he couldn’t get over the fact…

He couldn’t accept that you had been killed in a car wreck and now he had to carry on and raise your nine year old daughter all by himself.

It didn’t make sense to him. How could everything have gone so wrong in such a short period of time? He remembered seeing you call his phone, though he hadn’t been able to pick it up at the time, but still, you left a voicemail saying you and Karina were coming home and that you would meet him at the house for dinner. You even left the familiar phrase at the end, the one that he was now just learning that he had been taking for granted the last 15 years, “Alrightly, well I’ll see you soon. Remember, I love you, okay?” It all seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary, but then, not even twenty minutes later, he got a call from the hospital, saying that both his wife and his daughter had been in a fatal collision and that he needed to come immediately.

The rest of that night was just a complete blur of memories in Kakashi’s mind now. There were bits and pieces that he remembered, but a lot of it just didn’t stay with him; truth be told, he only remembered two main moments from that night. He recalled the doctors handing him Karina, because by some miracle she had only sustained a minor concussion and some various bruising. But in that moment, she didn’t even look like his child; she was completely terrified, clutching onto him for dear life, too afraid to even loosen her grip on her father for more than a second as they waited in the emergency room. She was a far, far different child than the one he had raised and come to know. And then he remembered an exhausted surgeon coming out in the middle of the night and telling him that you didn’t make- that your injuries were too great and your heart couldn’t within stand them or the surgery. They tried to save you, but you were too far gone when you arrived at the hospital, and that they sent their sympathy to him and Karina.

And that was it. That was all Kakashi could recall from the night you died.

Since then, he had played that last voicemail at least a hundred times, just listening to that soft hum of your voice, knowing that there was a gentle smile upon your lips as you spoke it. It used to be a common practice everyday between the two of you, but now that quiet little recording was all he had left of you- and that was something he was just beginning to face.

With a glance to his watch, Kakashi knew that it was time for him and Karina to begin their way to the church. He wanted some time to prepare your daughter for the things she might hear; he knew she was suffering too, and facing a crowd of people offering their condolences was not something was going to help her in her healing, but it was something that had to be done, and so he called out to her, “Karina, sweetheart, where are you?”

Though no answer came.

His daughter had never been the loudest, but Kakashi had noticed that within the last few days she had been especially quiet, only speaking to him, and even when she did, it was soft and short. What was he expecting though? She had just lost her mother, one of the few who had molded her into the child she was. There were many ways to grieve, and maybe Karina’s was just to keep silent, and for the while being, he was going to allow it.

Knowing that his best chance was to go and find her, Kakashi made his way down the hall, which was now illuminated with sunlight as the morning broke through the small windows scattered throughout the home. It brought a warmth into the house that had been missing, and for a moment made him feel as if he wasn’t about to experience one of his hardest day of his entire life, though it did last only a moment. As he walked down the hallway, he remembered that it was you who fell in love with this home, because of this brightness that these little windows delivered into the house, but now it was a memory that he pushed away, not wanting to get caught up in everything right before he had to leave. And so, reaching the back of the house, he took a second to just look out the large glass door and to the porch, where his daughter sat nearly motionless save for a few ginger hand motions. There on her lap was one of the small stray neighborhood cats curled up, relishing in the morning sun and the attention from Karina. There was a part of Kakashi that didn’t want to bother her, knowing that this was as close to normal as she was going to get, but they also needed to be getting ready to go, so he slowly opened the door.

As she heard the door slide, your nine year old looked back to her father, and tried to give a small smile, but one never came.

“How are you?” Kakashi asked, more as a ritual greeting than a question as he came and sat down next to her.

She just shrugged, her frown still evident. Kakashi could tell that she was struggling, but she was also his child, so she was going to hide it as much as she could. Brushing her bangs out of her bloodshot eyes, she spoke up to him, “I’ve got to make sure that she’s fed- we’ve been kinda slacking on her and the others the last couple days, so….” your child trailed off a bit as she glanced back down to the stray in her lap.

“Well, I’m sure the other neighbors are helping them- making sure they’re fed and everything.”

Karina just shook her head for a moment, “I know, but…” she stopped herself, “Mom always said it was our job to make sure they had just a little each day, because we never know if they’ll get another meal, and we can’t let them go hungry…” she spoke, trying to focus on one of the more mundane things about her little life, staying as far away from the reality of everything for a long as she could.

A small smile came upon Kakashi’s face for a moment, seeing his child’s empathy, but as almost everything that morning, it quickly faded as the truth needed to come out. With a glance to her, he did his best to be gentle, “You know it’s about time for us to leave. We have to make sure that we get to the church on time.” the father’s voice was soft, not quite sure on what his daughter’s reaction would be throughout the day.

Though at that moment, Karina didn’t even give him a reaction. She simply fell silent and looked out into the backyard.

Immediately, Kakashi took note of her avoidance, “Baby girl, I know it’s not going to be easy, but…” he faltered, wanting to give her something that would help her through all of this, but not really having an answer.

Still, she said nothing.

“Karina, it’s time.”

Looking away from him, she just shook her head, fighting back tears with every fiber of her being, “No, I don’t want to go, Dad…” she admitted. Letting her hair fall back into her face, she just continued to shake her head, “Please don’t make me go…” she cried out quietly. “I-I don’t want to go to Mom’s funeral. I-I….” she began crying harder, tears beginning roll down her little face and onto her black dress.

Instantly, Kakashi felt his heart break even more than it already been. “Shh, shh, c’mon here,” he offered up gently as he pulled her in close to him and hugged onto her. As he held onto her, he could her breathing quicken and her chest heave as the tears never seemed to stop. Trying to calm her down, he kissed the top of her head, “Karina, I need you to take a deep breath.”

She just continued to shake her head, still very much in denial about the whole thing. “N-no.” she breathed out as she balled her fists in his jacket, “I-If we go,  then that means she’s really gone, and I don’t want her to be gone. I don’t want Mom to be gone; I want her to come home and be with us….” she continued to cry. “I want Mom, I want to change what happen- W-why can’t we change it? W-why couldn’t the doctor’s save her? They saved me, why couldn’t they save her?” the questions just flooded out as the child finally broke.

Almost at tears at this point himself, Kakashi just continued to hold on tight to his daughter, knowing that this right here might have been the hardest moment of everything. “I know you miss her and you just want Mom to come back, but sometimes we don’t get what we want, no matter how much we wish for it. We can’t change what happened, Karina, it’s not how things work…”

Looking up from his chest, she asked a question that finally broke him,“But, but how are we going to live without her, Dad…?”

Frowning, he shook his head as he admitted the truth, “I don’t know yet…” he trailed for a moment, “But, we will, and we’re going to be just fine. I promise, Karina…”  

7

That 70′s Show + Instagram || Because they totally had Instagram in the 70′s.

The Escort, Chapter 9

Thanks to @repellomuggletum15 for all her hard work betaing this chapter, and to @the-alpha-incipiens for her input, encouragement, and comments in the doc :)


Every Tuesday at six-o'clock sharp, Regina drops Henry off at the Family Solutions Center. She still has a restraining order against Leo, and to avoid coming into contact with him, the center has asked she use the side door and wait for the social worker, Ms. Rosa.

She’s on their side, Regina thinks. At least, Rosa has been there since the custody plan was set in action. She is privy to the records, and she knows Leo’s temper. She knows how he hurt Regina in front of her son, and how when he got custody back from her, he yet again ruined it with a public slap to a four year old’s face. She’s aware of how many times Leo simply did not show up to these meetings at all, and when he does, how disinterested he is in Henry. He’s allowed to take Henry out - Rosa has made it clear she will go out to dinner with them, or even accompany Henry and Leo into the Blanchard home.

But according to Henry, Leo does not do that. He sits in the recreational room and plays with his phone while Henry entertains himself. Her son is good sport, though. He tells her they have video games there, and they order pizza. Sometimes, Ms. Rosa has ice cream cups. He tells her it’s not so bad.

The thing is she’s not sure she believes him, truly. He’s already far too good at noticing her moods. He already has this need to protect her — she sees it far too often and hates the thought of her little boy feeling the need to tell his mother white lies so she doesn’t cry herself to sleep at night.

She hopes he’s still oblivious to how serious it all is, to how terrified she is, deep inside. She tries desperately to hide all of that from him, but Henry is a perceptive boy, and he’s getting older.

He’s all smiles when he sees Ms. Rosa, walks over and grabs her hand, waving goodbye to Regina as if he did not have a care in the world.

And all Regina has had to do now, as she has done for the last three-and-a-half years, is to avoid a panic attack. She has to wait out these two hours where her son is in a room with a viper, and then prepare for next week, where she gets to do this all over again.

At least it’s only once a week. For now.

.::.

Handing Henry over into the arms of a monster is never easy. When she the judge first ordered for this visitation scheduled, he assured Regina it would get easier over time. Social workers said the same.

So far, that has not proved to be true. Her ex-husband is a vindictive asshole who can snap in an instant, he’s with her son, and she isn’t there to protect him. How could that ever be easy?

But over this time she has developed a rather good routine.

The center is close to her house, so she has more than enough time to pop home and clean, or hell, just take a much needed vacation from her life and vegetate in front of the television. But she never does go home, never allows herself to get too comfortable during these trips. Instead, she treats herself to a dinner at the nearby Panera Bread. Or she just nervously walks the aisles of a Marshalls or the grocery store down the street. And sometimes she just drives. Drives around and around listening to music, waiting for a phone call just in case she’s needed to rush back and get Henry early.

In the cooler months, right before it’s time to pick Henry up she will buy some hot chocolate from the coffee shop down the street, and has it ready for him on his way out.

In the warmer months, she goes for baked goods from the Muffin Man, chocolate and peanut butter brownies, oreo cake, or a few of their giant, homemade cookies. The kid has a belly full of pizza and sometimes his own dessert at the center, he has no need for this extra sugar.

But she enjoys giving it to him. Maybe it’s just an extra something to look forward to. Maybe it washes down the guilt she has of the situation he’s in.

Because this is entirely her fault.

Leo manipulated her, maybe. Lied, maybe. But she agreed to it all, agreed to let this man into her life, and now she’s damned them both.

.::.

She fiddles nervously with her glass of water. Her eyes are still puffy, breath still shaky from her meltdown in Daniel’s office.

Leo’s hand is soothing over hers from across the table. When she looks up at him, he shoots her a look so sympathetic, so sweet.

It’s much appreciated, because she has no one.

Well, she has her friends. Not very many, but she does have Emma. Of course, Emma has her own problems and her own life, and Emma is falling in love with Neal and they will be married and have a perfect life together and will have no time for the weepy wanderings of an almost-widow.

She has no family.

Her mother has made it clear that she is not welcome at home, not unless she gives up the only part of Daniel that remains. And she would rather die than abort or give this baby away. Daniel’s death has only solidified how much she loves and wants this child.

Daddy told her he was disappointed with her, and his words still burn at her from the inside, still keep her up at night, and still make her lose her appetite. He loves her, but he had said he was so disappointed. And that if she chose this life, chose to stay with Daniel, he could not help support her.

Weeks later, Daniel died, and perhaps that changes things. Perhaps they didn’t mean those words, and would gladly take her home. A grieving fiancé with a baby in her belly, surely even the most unforgiving of parents could find their way to help someone so pitiful?

But she’s too stubborn to even ask for the help. She’d rather never see them again. After the way they disrespected Daniel, she doesn’t think she will ever feel at home with them again.

So she has no one looking out for her. No family, no kindly father figure telling her that it’s going to be alright or it’s okay to grieve.

When she looks into Leo’s eyes, when she listens to his kind words, it almost feels like she has someone again.

“Daniel meant quite a bit to me,” Leo says. His eyes grow misty, and he shakes his head to prevent the tears from dropping. It’s curious, Daniel never told her how close he was to his boss. “A very special man. He was a poet, Regina. He was incredibly talented. I wanted him to pursue his creative writing, but he always said he preferred to read the words of others instead…”

“He did say that,” she mutters tears flowing down her face, “he never knew how gifted he was.”

“I made sure he knew,” Leo assured. “And oh, how he could go on about you.”

He tells her stories of Daniel, detailed, beautiful stories of the man she loved, and they make her laugh and cry and clutch protectively at her belly, for the unborn child in her womb will never know the beautiful man that Daniel was, and it’s forever unfair.

He takes her to more than just coffee (decaf, or tea, for her, of course). He treats her to dinners. Buys her lunches. Stops in on her at her little apartment, just to make sure she’s alright.

Regina is closed off. She doesn’t seek companionship, and even Emma is not sure how to handle her in her grief. She is shut out from the world. Leo notices this, expresses it often, speaks of how her friends have abandoned her, and he doesn’t like that, not at all.

On the third week he makes his proposal.

“You’re struggling,” he says matter-of-factly. “Money-wise, I can tell.”

She looks down into her soup shamefully. “I’ll manage,” she says above a whisper, “I can break this lease and move somewhere cheaper, I can…”

“When the baby comes how will you afford to pay those medical bills? Do you have paid maternity leave as an editing assistant?”

“It’s contract work,” she mutters, “but it… it pays, I can save…”

“I’m going to propose something that sounds absurd,” Leo interrupts, “I want you to know it’s only because I’m quite fond of you, and I want to honor Daniel and his son. Before I continue you must tell me you believe me.

"I do,” she says, and she means it. He’s been her rock for these past few weeks, and she’s grateful for him.

“My family has money,” Leo says, “but it comes with strings. I want to give you everything, but my accounts are hyper-controlled. I can give you lunches and dinners, but I can’t pay your rent like I think I should, as a friend and employer to Daniel.”

“You owe me nothing,” Regina assures, “don’t talk like that.”

“Your son deserves the world,” Leo insists, “I can give it to him, and you. You will want for nothing. I can’t give you much now, my trust fund, like I said, is highly controlled… but, strings are removed for my wife. And, obviously, should I have a child…”

“Oh no, that’s absurd,” she breathes, but already the idea of not staying up at night worrying how she will pay rent feels so relieving, just the ability to be able to go into a grocery store and buy whatever she wants without scraping and saving. Little things. He could provide her with more, but all she can think of is him taking away the discomfort of her near poverty. “I’ll manage, I can’t take—”

“It’s my only opportunity to do something with this money that is actually good.” Leo insists, “and if there were another way… just consider it.”

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