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valentiyne · 1 year

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𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 716 ❀ 𝗅𝗎𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗆𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌

Luke Hemmings x Fem!Reader Summary: Paper-thin walls and numerous noise complaints.

FULL BOOK: MIDNIGHT | L.R.H Warnings: None! Slight swearing if you squint hard enough Word Count: 2.8k Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

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Game Night was hosted every third Friday of the month. Cramped in the new tiny apartment, 7 friends and their significant others wound up on my shitty couch shouting nonsense at each other.

The living room consisted of the old couch, my TV on top of a cardboard box I hadn't quite unpacked yet, and numerous card games.

Holding the slip in my hand, I eye the timer in front of me on the makeshift coffee table My eyes scanned the paper quickly before jumping up and snapping my fingers, "Okay okay, it's born in the water but moves onto land when older."

My friends stare at me dumbfounded, their minds elsewhere as I furrow my brows and tap my feet numerous times. "Come on guys, it's what a tadpole turns into when it's older!" I'm practically yelling now, eyes darting between my friends sitting down and the tiny timer on the table.

"A baby turtle?"

"Andddd time"

I groan in annoyance, dropping the slip of paper while walking back to the spot on the couch, and plopping down with a huff.

"A baby turtle? Seriously?' I scoff, rolling my eyes at my friends who couldn't contain their laughter at my obvious annoyance.

"Okay I'll go nex-", My friend Abby was cut short by a knock on the door. It wasn't necessarily a pound, but it definitely made all of us go silent.

We all look at each other quickly, almost mentally counting everyone to make sure it wasn't an expected visitor.

I slide off the couch, my eyebrows raised for a moment before I walk towards the door. Standing on my tiptoes, I look through the peephole to see my next-door neighbor, Lucas, standing there with an annoyed expression painted on his face. I sigh and unlock the door, poking my head out with a smile.

"Are we too loud?", I ask with innocent eyes, my bottom lip tugged into my teeth as I speak quietly. Lucas gave a friendly smile, his eyebags hidden behind his eyeglasses as he turned to point at his door, "I know it's a Friday night but I'm really busy in the studio tonight... kind of hard to concentrate when there's a bunch of girls next door squealing over....?"

I finish the sentence for him, "If tadpoles are baby turtles." I rub the back of my neck shyly, laughing almost to myself.

"Right yeah, is there any way to keep it down just a tad?"

I give him a thumbs up before we part ways- him rubbing his eyes and kicking his door shut with his bare foot and me turning around and closing it softly. My friends all huddled up behind the door, eavesdropping on our conversation, and as soon as the door shut, they all squealed quietly.

"Oh my gosh! Y/n!", My friend Abby gushing, nudging me with her shoulder harshly. "You never told me you have huge chemistry with your neighbor?"

My eyes grow wide and my hands shoot up in defense, "Oh no- Lucas? He's just a neighbor"

All of my friends' eyes were on me now, and an awkward silence fell upon us. I give a mere shrug before walking back over to the coffee table to scoop up all the cards spawled across it.

"Game night at mine next time?", Abby asks from beside me, picking up the numerous cups with mysterious liquids in them with a disgusted look on her face.

I just nod in response, shoving the cards in their rightful places before sighing softly. We said our goodbyes with platonic kisses on the cheeks and dramatic waves before I was left alone in my apartment again.

It was cold, empty, and dead silent in here- completely opposite of the neighbor beside me I'd assume. My bedroom was similar to the living room- a tiny mattress rested on the floor and my toiletries were packed away in numerous boxes I was too lazy to unbox. My head hits the stiff pillow below me and I could hear Lucas in his bedroom strumming his guitar, humming to himself lowly.

It was a little after one o'clock in the morning, but he seemed to be wide awake singing.

"some things are meant to be secret and not to be heard"

It had officially been two weeks since the game night and two weeks since he came to my door. Lucas and I would occasionally make eye contact on the way to the mailboxes or even hold the elevator for one another- but not a single word was shared between us. He was always in his own world, his head bobbing to an imaginary beat inside his head.

Every night I could hear him singing to himself softly, the wall dividing our bedrooms was as thin as paper. The occasional groan and the sound of notebooks hitting the wall distracted me on nights I needed to sleep, but I never once said anything to him. He was a musician- and a very good one to say the least. I didn't want to be the annoying next-door neighbor.

I swing my door open, looking out into the hallway and scanning each door before finally averting my eyes to his own. The wrench in one hand was held on with a tight grip while the other hand carried the TV mount at my side. I could hear the sounds of various instruments being played from behind his door, his voice clearing every few moments to restart a lyric if it didn't sound right the first time.

The hand that held the wrench swung up, knocking on his door a few times before I took a step back and awkwardly looked around the hallway once again. The sounds from behind his door abruptly stopped and I could hear his heavy footsteps making their way towards the door now. Taking one more step back, I watched as Lucas opened the door and looked down at me,

"I'm sorry, am I being too loud?", He cheekily asked, a smile painted on his lips.

"No no, you're fine.", I laugh at his innocent teasing, quoting our most recent encounter. "I was actually coming over to see if you knew how to mount a TV", I poke my head around his figure and motion towards his apartment, "but seeing as you're busy-"

"I'm not busy." He corrects me, leaning inside his door to grab his keys before turning back towards me and grabbing the box from my hand. "Let me help you out, it'll take 10 minutes tops."

It didn't take 10 minutes. Hell, It didn't even take 30 minutes.

There Lucas and I both were, tools of various shapes and sizes sprawled out across my apartment floor and a cheap bottle of wine I found at the back of my fridge.

"Lucas are you sure you know how to-"

"It's Luke and yes, I know how to do this", he grumbles nonsense to himself as he flips through the instruction manual for the third time tonight. I sighed to myself slightly, trying to keep myself from laughing by taking a swig of the wine.

"Could always just use thumbtacks"

This makes Luke laugh, his eyebrows relaxing on his face and cheeks going bright red. He tosses the manual at me, and I put my hands up to defend myself.

"I'm pretty sure some thumbtacks couldnt hold a 35 pound Tv," He holds his stomach as he rolls around my floor, laughing loudly. I roll my eyes at this, groaning and tossing the screwdriver on the floor.

"Look, it's getting late. I'll just have you come over and do it another time.", I point towards the clock, which was held up with thumbtacks, that read two o'clock in the morning.

"Oh shit, sorry I totally spaced it," Luke stands up now, gathering up his tools quickly and giving me a crooked smile. "I'll swing by sometime this week to help you, I promise." I'm smiling now, shooing him out the door quickly.

"Yeah yeah see you later, rockstar", I tease and close the door abruptly, only to be stopped by a foot in the way.

"What are you doing tomorrow?", The way his eyes glimmered in the hallway light, his hair slicked back from sweat and cheeky dimples appeared as he smiled at me.

"I have finals tomorrow morning, and I'll probably be dead by the time its over- anytime after that I'm free.", I groan dramatically and push my palm into my forehead.

Luke just nods, freeing his foot from the doorway, and gives me a thumbs up, "I'll be sure to be quiet tonight so you can get your rest." I thank him kindly and give him a soft wave before closing the door behind him.

Luke was anything but quiet. I tossed and turned throughout the night, pushing the pillow closer to my ears as I heard him attempting to sing a lyric he wasn't even finished with. if there's one thing I've learned about him in the month and a half I've known him- he was a perfectionist. He sang the same things over and over countless times making sure it was absolutely perfect.

"Cause all these bodies are hoping to get addicted-"

I swing my arm up, smacking on the wall a couple times before groaning and letting it fall to my side once again. His side of the wall went silent immediately, the shuffling of papers and a small mumbled "sorry" was heard.

Luke had avoided me from that point forward: he didn't hold the elevator for me nor did he come and check his overflowing mailbox.

I found myself at his door once again, knocking in one swift movement before clearing my throat. I could hear him shuffling around his apartment, a loud thud followed by a "shit, one second!".

The door opens and a dripping-wet Luke is before me, a towel tightly wrapped around his waist. I blink a few times, holding my gaze above his shoulders out of respect.

"Why are you avoiding me", I ask in a monotone voice, cutting straight to the point. He raises his eyebrows at this now, one hand sassily on his hip.

"Who said I was avoiding you?", He chuckles lightly and opens the door wider, motioning for me to enter. My nose is filled with the smell of the oven baking something sweet mixed with his charcoal body wash. I step inside with a smile, closing the door behind me.

Luke wipes the water from his face and turns away from me, entering his bathroom for a split second, leaving me standing in his kitchen.

I glance around his living room: Pictures of his friends and family are hung up neatly on the wall, his instruments are laid out on the floor around his couch, and his bookshelf is overflowing with numerous copies of musical books.

He emerges from the bathroom once again, now clothed in a sweatshirt and basketball shorts and the towel that was once wrapped around his waist was now encased in his curls.

"I was just going to invite you over actually," He laughs again, flashing me his million-dollar smile before pointing at his dining table. It was decorated with a lace tablecloth, a small bouquet of flowers sitting in a glass-decorated vase, and a plate of steaming hot pasta was laid out. I smile to myself slightly, looking back up at him before taking my seat at the table, he rushes forward, scooting my chair in for me before taking his own seat across from me.

"What's the occasion?" I ask while picking up my fork, poking at the seafood pasta that was professionally plated. If you would've told me he hired a chef to make dinner- I would've believed you.

"I was loud on the night of your finals and I felt horrible knowing I kept you up all night", He picks up his napkin and places it neatly on his lap, "I wanted to make it up to you after I mounted your TV buttt you showed up a little early", He teases.

I take a bite of my food, groaning into the fork with a muffled giggle as my eyes look up at his. The food was amazing, and the flavor was intricately picked out to perfection.

Going back, this perfectly proved my point that Luke was a perfectionist.

We found small talk, conversing over what I was majoring in and what he was busy working on.

"So the album is almost done, I just need to finish this last song," He shrugs his shoulders and scrapes at the remains off his plate. I smile to myself, looking up now with innocent eyes, "Maybe I can help?"

He stands up abruptly, turning around and opening the oven to reveal the freshly baked brownies he had made- from scratch may I add. I groan in anticipation and rub my hands together dramatically. He grabs the brownies with oven mitts, turning around and facing me.

"If you want to help me, I'll allow it", he laughs and places the pan down gently and walks towards his living room, picking up a notebook that was previously thrown across the room.

"Here", he places it in front of me, removing my empty plate and walking

The notebook was written in barely eligible handwriting, with numerous words crossed out and mental notes scribbled on the sides.

Some things are meant to be secret and not to be heard so if I tell you, just keep it and don't say a word. when the doors are all closing.....It's bound to get ?? all these bodies are hoping to get addicted to

The rest of the page was scribbled out, lyrics that never made the cut. I snatch the pen from the metal spiral holding the pages together and click it once.

"it's bound to get.... loud?" I scribble it down next to the question marks and look up at him, scratching his chin with a nod. His cheeks were red now, the wine flushing through his body.

"What rhymes with loud?"

I look up at him now, as he scoots his chair right up next to me to the point our legs are touching.

"Cloud, hmmm,"

"Sound," we both say in unison.

Luke claps his hands together and grabs the pen from my hands, opening the notebook to a new page and scribbling down the new and improved lyrics. I watch him closely, the way his eyes twinkled and dimples poked through when he was concentrating.

I was so screwed. I was falling for my next door neighbor.

I didn't see him for another two weeks, his side of the wall seemed eerily vacant and completely silent. I even knocked a few times in hopes he'd knock back in some sort of rhythm, but there was no response.

Hearing the knock on my door shot my body out of bed, sweat dripping down my neck and sides. I groan and tap on my phone to check the time, blinding myself in the process. The pounding never stopped, not until I stumbled out of bed and opened my door. My heart skipped a beat, praying that the blonde would be on the other side with that cheeky smile I adored.

"Hello?", I ask in a groggy voice whilst rubbing my eyes and squinting up at the person who disturbed my slumber- at 2 a.m. may I add.

Instead of a person, I was met with an empty cold hallway. I avert my gaze down and towards my door mat. There, set up neatly was a bouquet of flowers with a note tied to the front with white lace.

I smile at myself and crouch down, picking up the thoughtful gift and looking down the hallway one last time before kicking my door shut.

Y/n,

I'm sorry I didn't see you before I left. Our album releases at 2:30am today and I was supposed to leave at 2... I just knew I had to leave you something on my way out. I hope you like the flowers I picked out my mom helped me.

I'd have probably sent you the link to the album by the time you finish reading this note.

I'm going to be all over the world, touring and doing what I love. I can't wait to be back home and see you again, i'll make sure to facetime every change I get.

love,

your rockstar

I could hear the familiar ringtone from my bedroom, alerting me that Luke was a man of his word. I wipe a few stray tears and make my way to the bedroom, snatching my phone up with my free hand and clicking the link he had sent me.

This is the song I spent the last 3 months working on, keeping you tossing and turning until finally you perfected it.

Mp3.ifwallscouldtalk.demo

1K notes · View notes

ghettogirly · 3 months

Note

Hello, is there gonna be part 2 of welcome to my world?

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐖��𝐑𝐋𝐃 [𝟐]

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀 ’𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐒’ 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

-> click here to read: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝟏

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-> synopsis: entering Miami, the crew are now thrown into a dangerous world as a bounty is placed onto their heads. Is something blossoming between Armando and Malia?

-> theme: slow burn, action.

-> format: story

-> warning: use of n word, violence, mature language, suggestive themes.

-> authors note: you asked and you shall receive! this took me a while since it was so long. hope you enjoy! 𝟐.𝟑𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.🌸

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𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟐: 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒.

Footprints trailed behind the four as they ran through the forest. Trees hung over them, running in between, in attempts to throw those who were following them off. A glimpse of a sunbeam peeked through the huddle of trees showcasing the time of day. It was now dawn.

Logs and branches covered the wildlife below their feet, moss and grass poked up from the soil where the sunlight touched them, allowing them to photosynthesise.

Panting, the crew located a hut at the bottom of the hill, built next to a river. At the top of the mountain, they all looked at each other, signalling what the plan was.

“Deberíamos barrer la cabaña, una persona en cada ángulo.”

Marcus turned to Armando with a confused look on his face, “Armando I don’t even know what you said but i am not following your plan. You’re too crazy for my old ass.”

Giggling, Malia turned away from group as she found Marcus comment funny. Mike shaking his head, looked towards Armando. “We all just need to go together.”

“Says who?” The male stepped forward.

“I’m not asking you, i’m telling you. We are staying together!” Mike stood up, a scowl crawling across his face at his son’s stubbornness.

“Fuck out my way.”

Grabbing on his shirt, Mike pulls Armando close to him. Grabbing him back Armando put his head closer to his father’s, a vein appearing on his head due to adrenaline pumping through them. His fight clearly activated due to the hormone being secreted from the adrenal gland. Getting in between them, Marcus put both his arms out.

“I can’t deal with this hot headed bullshit! On 3! 1, 2-“

The two pushed each other back.

“There you go!”

Walking past the two, Malia slowly glided down the hill towards the hut. Stopping at the back before peeking through one of the windows, noticing someone was there, she slowly creeped around the opposite side of the house. The three men looked behind them and noticed how she wandered off, throwing their hands up in defeat they followed behind.

A wooden deck trailed along the coast of the beach, the waves crashed against each other causing a thin layer of foam to bubble on top. The sun slowly popped from under the shoreline as the orange, dazzling rays were emitted from the giant star. The brown skinned girl was in awe of the beautiful sight that was before her, causing the melanated skin to glow in the light. She embraced the warmth of the rays as they gave her comfort: peace.

The enigma of why heat and fire brought her comfort lingered in the air. Not only making her ponder but even Armando who eyed her curiously as she basked in the tranquility of the beach. Nevertheless, he shook his head and focused on the mission before him. “Necesitamos movernos.”

Running towards the boat, Armando quickly unravelled the rope that connect the vehicle to the bank. Mike and Marcus hopped into the boat with Malia following their lead. Pushing the boat away from the bank slightly in order to start the motor, the male was just about to step on the beach until a figure appeared before him.

“I know you ain’t stealing from me!”

Looking up, a hillbilly stood in front of him.

“We ain’t stealing your shit just because we’re black!!”

All the heads turned towards Marcus who looked at him with a confused look on their face. “Escucha, tenemos que irnos.”

“Listen boy, you either need to speak English or go back to wherever you came from, you-“

Quickly tackling him, Armando dropped the caucasian male to the ground. In attempt to fight back, the man tried to grab his neck, with no avail. Quickly getting back in his feet, Armando grabbed the smaller male and threw him into the building. Causing the others to look at him with a shocked look on their faces.

“What?”

“Nothing.” They all said in unison.

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𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑, the boat slowly sailed across the river bank. Armando controlled the steering wheel while the other three just laid down. By the time they got on the boat and started the engine, the sun started setting. Sailing for about 4 hours now, everyone was quiet as the tiredness hit.

A crackle and a pop came from below the boat. Suddenly, a flicker of light came from the motor of the boat causing smoke to then burst from under it. The controls of the boat was gone. “Controls are out.”

“We are not too far away from the beach, you think we can get there?” Mike suggested.

“How though?” Marcus asked.

The three men looked at each other and then looked towards Malia who was just there fiddling with her nails. “You guys do realise that there are oars right beneath us right?”

Slowly looking down, the men realise the flat, wooden blades that lie on the floor of the vehicle. “Así que eres útil para algo.”

“Excuse me?”

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𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇, the three exit the boat. Panting due to the energy needed to glide the boat against the upthrust of the waves, as the pressure of the water made it harder to move. Looking around, they observed the multi-coloured lights and the neon strobes that wrapped around the tall skyscraper buildings that was before them.

City lights were on that illuminated the dark streets with a dim light, creating a moody atmosphere within the city. Walking across the beach, the four stood before a road. “Yeah, we in Miami.” Mike confirmed.

“So what do we do now?”

“Necesitamos armas.”

“Vendôme is not too far from here, we just need to get there.”

“Aw hell nah Mike, that crazy ass lady Mila who runs that shit don’t even like me!” Marcus argued back.

“She likes me though.”

“You are a married man now with you freaky ass, christine wouldn’t like all that-“

Slapping his head, Mike cuts him off. “Nigga just shut up and let’s go!”

Jogging up the path, the neon sign illuminated from the building above. The brown skinned girl walked forward and pushed open the sleek black doors welcoming an eruption of loud rap music and people cheering.

Strolling into the building, Malia pushed through crowds with the boys trailing slowly behind her. Elevated stages and stripper poles were scattered across the nightclub with near-naked girls sliding and doing tricks on the metal structures. On the other side of the club was a bar, where a group of people were taking shots, allowing the alcoholic substance to slide down their throats.

Approaching an archway that had red, tiny pearls hanging down from it, a bodyguard put his arm out in an attempt to stop the four from entering. “Ay, we here for Mila, it’s Mike.”

The arm was then retracted and mike gave a nod of approval to the bodyguard, who led them inside the private booth. In the smaller room was about 4 girls, including Mila. She had black, sleek hair trailing down her tan skin. Her nails were painted neon orange while she wore a skimpy, neon yellow dress, promoting the theme of the club which was known for its bright colours. “Hey big daddy..”

“Nah, i ain’t that. Don’t already start Mila.” Mike jokingly warned who embraced the hug from the shorter latina woman who just walked up to hug him. The rest of the three sat down.

“So what do you need?”

“We gonna need some clothes, a car and some guns. Just something quick.”

“Okay i hear that.. but what you gonna do for me though?”

The other three looked at each other wearily before glancing back over at the two and their conversation.

“Listen-“

“Mila, he’s a married man. He can’t do nothing for you!” Marcus interjected, shaking his head.

“So, what does that got to do with me? All you gonna do is close your eyes, i’ll do the rest baby.”

A splutter is heard from within the small room.

“I mean, she ain’t wrong. You close your eyes and she can do everything else Mike.” Marcus whispered, reenacting the movements of what Mike would do in the situation.

“Mila you fucking with me bro, we don’t have anytime for your bullshit. Matter of fact, we outta here-“

Standing up the crew for ready to leave, before clicks were heard across the room. Guns were drawn as the 3 other girls that surrounded Mila stood up on the couch. Bodyguards now covered every exit while shouts were thrown towards the group.

“Y’all better sit your dumb asses down before i kill you!”

“Mila what the fuck are you doing?”

“¡Cállate la boca! Hay una recompensa de 2 millones de dólares por tu cabeza. Solo me estaba demorando, bebé.”

“You a crazy, broke ass bitch.” Malia interjected, mugging the older latina lady as she just laughed.

“Who’s going to be dead and who’s going to have 2 million dollars by the end of it? That’s what i thought.”

Before the brown skinned girl could say anything back, A group of guys entered the room. 5 black men drawn with guns swaggered in, the chains glistening from the strobe of lights as the main one approached Mike. Opening his mouth, his gold grills were shown to the group, highlighting his status.

“Bounty is dead or alive. Don’t do nothing stupid.”

Pushing Mike and Marcus along, one of the men grabbed Malia, wrapping his rough hands around the woman’s arm as he forces her to hurry up.

“Let go of her.” Armando warns, his smooth sultry tone echoing through the dark room which causes everyone to look at him. Including the man who continues to hold Malia.

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“Man just let her go so we can get this money!!” One of the gang members shouted towards the male who just stared at Armando. Huffing, he let her go; not before pushing her forward to get her to continue walking.

“This nigga wants to touch me so bad, what the fuck.” Malia whispered to Armando who just laughed. “quién no lo haría?”

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𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 to respond the group was led outside towards a black van. Climbing into the van, a sudden series of gunshots was scattered towards the vehicle, killing the gang members that held them captive. Hiding behind the van, Armando quickly ran out to get one of the assault guns that was dropped by the dead member.

Jumping into the van, the four hid under the seats.

“Payday Payday! Yo Mike, i know you there with your tired ass!!”

Shaking his head, Mike sighed at the sound of the voice, recognising who it was.

“You know this guy?” Armand suggested, giving a knowing look to his father.

“Uh, i smashed his hand with a hammer a couple years back. Nothing crazy.”

Focusing back on the events going back on outside, the bigger male was still shouting. “I’m with the streets now! It’s my time!” Aiming his gun towards the van, the now identified male, Vincent starts shooting towards the vehicle.

In retaliation, Armando starts shooting back from within the van. Peeking his gun through a blind spot, spraying some of the other active criminals that were there with bullets. With precision and accuracy he successfully fired two shots that were part of vincent’s crew, his toned muscles popping out of the T-shirt he was in as he focused. Malia watched intently, now understanding the danger the surrounded the mexican male. Having a sense of danger yet cool aura to him, which honestly turned her on: slightly.

Marcus slowly crawls up to the driver seat, pressing the gas pedal, driving straight into Vincent whose eyes widen towards as he realises what’s going on. “Fuck!!”

Two more vehicles slide up, shooting Vincent’s gang in attempts to also retrieve the bounty for the bad boys. Jumping into the seat, Marcus pulls off and starts driving away, speeding down the roads in attempts to get away from the chaotic situation occurring by the nightclub.

A sudden flame rose from the cracks of the back door from the van, a molotov spraying a burst of fire around the ring of the entrance of the van.

“Don’t worry guys, the fire is on the outside!”

The cardboard boxes that were in the corner of the van was quickly lit on fire, the fire now reaching the inside. Swirling around Armando’s legs, the small flames create a hot sensation on his clothes as they slowly burn past the fibres, touching some of his receptors on his leg. Realising his legs were on fire, his eyes widened as he start yelling, patting the flames in attempts to extinguish them.

“Oh shit, now it’s on the inside!!” Marcus yelled.

Realising Armando’s current state, Malia quickly helped him out. Opening the door, she kicked the boxes out of the van. Instantaneously, a bullet shot right above the girl - just missing her as it hit off the top of the van. Back on his toes, Armando quickly wrapped his arms around Malia’s waist pulling her back and shutting the door.

“I was fine!!!” She shouted.

“No you wasn’t! Someone just fucking shot at you!”

“Guys, we need to jump out the van!!”

Quickly looking back at each other, the 2 younger ones jumped out of the back while Mike and Marcus jumped out each side. Speeding down the road, the van instantly blew up due to the overheating of the engine and the fire that surrounded it, now destroyed.

The crew looked at each other , panting as they get their breaths back.

“We need to get back to Dorn’s.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🌸] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“Deberíamos barrer la cabaña, una persona en cada ángulo.”: We should just sweep the hut, one person at every angle.

“Necesitamos movernos.”: We need to move.

“Escucha, tenemos que irnos.”: Listen, we need to go.

“Así que eres útil para algo.” : So you are useful for something.

“Necesitamos armas.”: We need guns.

“¡Cállate la boca! Hay una recompensa de 2 millones de dólares por tu cabeza. Solo me estaba demorando, bebé.”: Shut the fuck up! There is a 2 million dollar bounty on your head. I was just stalling baby.

“quién no lo haría”: Who wouldn’t ?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🌸] 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @milliumizoomi @shurisgf @armandosbabymama @wizewhispers @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @deadpool15 @amplifiedmoan @5tarlan7 @thedarkworldofhananerea @sarcasticbitchsblog @dyttomori @tyneshaaa @yeahnohoneybye @believeinthefireflies95

187 notes · View notes

fairygodsystem · 3 months

Note

Do you have any system names for just the grouping that aren't system or collective?

We are really wanting a one worded collective name

♡ Alternatives to "system" or "collective" Master-list ♡

Association　　Assembly　　Aggregation　　Assemblage　　Assortment　　Array　　Alliance

Band　　Body　　Batch　　Battery　　Bunch　　Bundle　　Battalion　　Bracket　　Brigade

Class　　Club　　Chain　　Circle　　Crew　　Collection　　Cluster　　Clutch　　Clique　　Clump　　Clot　　Combine　　Conglomerate　　Congregation　　Crew　　Crowd　　Company　　Collaborative　　Communal　　Cooperative　　Common　　Corporation　　Compilation　　Collation　　Caboodle　　Convocation　　Cumulation　　Constellation　　Clan　　Consort　　Crop　　Coalition　　Classification　　Conspiracy　　Cabal　　Coven　　Corps

Division

Establishment　　Enterprise

Faction　　Function　　Formation　　Foundation　　Fellows　　Fellowship　　Family　　Force

Group　　Gathering　　Grade　　Gaggle　　Grouping　　Gild　　Guild　　Genus　　Generation

Herd　　Horde　　Hoard　　Heap　　Huddle　　Hodgepodge

Institute　　Institution

Lot　　League　　Legion　　Layout　　Lads

Mass　　Medley　　Mess　　Miscellany　　Mobilization　　Muster　　Mess　　Melt　　Mutual　　Mob

Number　　Network

Operation　　Outfit　　Order

Platoon　　Party　　Parcel　　Posse　　Phalanx　　Pack　　Personnel　　Pile

Round　　Ring

School　　Squad　　Squadron　　Set　　Species　　Syndicate　　Staff　　Stack　　Stock　　Suite

Team　　Troop　　Trust

Union

Variety

279 notes · View notes

scentedpepper · 2 months

Text

Embered Metamorphisis

JASPER HALE X WEREWOLF!GN READER

● gif by @goodomcns

Summary: The aftermath of transfroming into a giant, raging wolf isn't kind to you --yet, your sworn enemy is.

Content Warnings: Uhhhh, descriptions of bones cracking, hair sprouting and such werewolf things.

Other Pairings: Sam Uley x GN Reader, Wolf Pack mentioned, Carlisle and Edward mentioned.

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Slowly slipping back into my twilight phase...

We didn't get enough struggles of being a quileute shapeshifter content so heres your stuggles of being a quileute shapeshifter content

Yeah I'm changing up my format but does that mean that I'm going back and re editing all 8 parts of leon kennedy series —lol

I have a marvel fic written and I literally have no excuse as to why its taking me so long to edit but yk

Heres twilight instead?

_________________________________________

You pulled your eyelids closer to your waterline, the splash of water against your searing hot face felt dull compared to the tear shaped lava dripping down the curve of your back, meeting at the waistband of your boxers and leaving a sour, pungent smell within the fabric.

Your body shook with such agony, that had you been the fragile, human-esqu being that you posed as, your bones would have liquified; bones that turned a delicate peach flower shade of cream.

If you looked up into the mirror in front of you, you were sure, at this rate, you'd see steam floating off the very skin that had stretched and molded itself and grew hair the length of a beanstalk all over your body. But this wasn't the pain that tore apart every neuron in your brain, and rendered you to nothing but a shivering, aching mess.

It was something else, and even with your mind so sluggish, so disoriented and tired that you could easily sleep for several days and your stomach, pouring out gurgling noises of bregrudement that you could barely hear over the own ringing in your ears, ached with its hunger.

You seemed to be grunting to yourself, atop the linoleum flooring of your bathroom that you felt as if your feet were burning holes into. You made your own noises out in passing, brief, in and out moments where your ears tuned back to your surroundings. Huffs. Whistling. There was faint cursing.

Stupid. Fuckin stupid. The voice ran through your foggy mind, an echo of rage.

Your entire body shook with such a powerful force, so dolorous in nature, that your eyes held heavy purple bags beneath them. You squinted them ever further closed, yet the light seeped out from the crevices like tears.

You didn't dare look to the light, it'd be like blinding yourself to the sun because everything now was 10 times brighter, clearer, intense. You heard each beat of your pulse right behind your ears, it wasn't as much 'thump, thump, thump' as a constant noise that felt more like you were vibrating.

It was all the more aggravating, all of it.

Your muscles were spasming beneath you and the longer you stood the more you couldn't feel your toes. The longer you locked yourself in your bathroom, huddled into the furthest corner, the closer you felt death crawling along your own skin.

What are you? That question held such power to pull the rug beneath your feet. Objectively, you knew. Sam had crossed borders to ensure you didn't break the treaty anymore than he already was. And your mind held such a haze that not even now you could clearly decipher what exactly had happened.

The haze acted as a wall between your mind and Sam's, even as he commanded you, tumbled with you through the woods, wrestled you to the forest floor, leaves and broken branches caught in your fur as he snapped and snarled above you; he couldn't see clearly what happened. Let alone explain to you the precise point that your wolfy instincts -because apparently that was a thing you held within your very being- reigned.

All you could recall was a few faces.

Jasper's visage, etched with both horror and regret, staring back at you with rubies -as if you were the monster and not him.

At some point, you could faintly remember him speaking to you from below as his hands fiercely held your snout, telling you to transform back into your usual self. But his face...it spoke volumes at how ready he was to run if not needed, to flee. Like in that moment, the only difference between life and death were the few inches separating you both.

Then there was Carlisle. You don't remember what happened in between but you remembered seeing the struggle in his and Edward's faces as they attempted to hold you down without hurting you and having themselves killed in the process.

With Sam, the memories were clearer, sharper. They kept surfacing like bubbles on a swirly tub.

He too spoke but the difference between him and Jasper was that his were demands, not pleas.

Each plea was so faint against his normal voice -shockingly enough- and you could always recollect his words like a chanting, mantra of those just told a horrific, traumatizing tale.

"Concentrate. " Was what he said.

Your name. Sometimes the shortened version with his southern drawl etched in at the edges.

But your bones didn't ease themselves in molding, twisting, grinding back into their shape until Sam got there. More importantly, that uncomfortable heated feeling of hair pushing itself out from your flesh faded to a shiver.

And your faint memories did not aid the man, who you'd previously held an unimaginable grudge against, in easing you into the subject. So, he stuck to what he knew, what he was sure made the most sense to any half-man, half-wolf in your situation.

Quileute blood. This. That.

Each time you gritted your teeth, clacked them, your canines jarring against each other as he droned on about the treaty, about the vampires, about your time around all of them at once probably being the source of your trigger.

The magic in your blood lit ablaze like gasoline poured onto a pile of wood inside of you. And you didn't understand. Wouldn't for a while until you were coherent, not like this. But the idea of you simply being the one to blame had your mouth pursing shut, biting hard enough to draw that salty copper smell across your tongue.

Subjectively, as you stood in your bathroom, eyelids stapled shut, brain still muddled, body hotter than hot itself. Shaking. Teeth, sharper than usual, still dug painfully into the open wound in your mouth, pulling your lips back harshly.

You didn't know what to call yourself.

Werewolf.

Shapeshifter.

Monster.

They all seemed to mean the same thing.

Vampire.

Cold ones.

Blood sucker.

Those all meant the same too.

Enemy.

Your heart stung at that; painful. Sharp. There was something wet coming down your cheeks but you didn't acknowledge it. Barely registered the sound of your bones cracking from inside, the stretch and pull as tendons and ligaments reformed to shape your humanoid form.

Your teeth didn't let go of your lip as your body continued to reform itself in the correct places, your feet dirtied from the bottoms after you stalked through the woods behind your house, naked and scathed from your only 3rd transformation in counting.

You were not yet adjusted, that much was obvious as the rest of the wolves watched you stumble into your home before you were out of sight. Not because they could smell your shame or the pain you were in, not because your face was still smeared with mud and slobber. But because something struck their ears just then, the sound loud enough to echo from miles behind you and they recognized it for what it was.

A whimper. Pain, so visceral and agonizingly immense you almost keeled forward and gasped for air as soon as the shuddery whine passed.

You'd found your bedroom floor before you clung to the bathroom sink as you were now, the bite doing little but help rid the bitterness and tang on your tongue. The pit of your stomach tightened for a moment as your ears began picking up on your mother's soft shuffling noises and you could tell her exact location, how she fidgeted around on the couch.

But you were again drawn back into yourself and the memories seemed to flash once more as your body convulsed and twisted, feverously hot and unbearably sticky. But each pain felt like pure acid seared against a wound.

There were some parts that you noticed as things changed within your entire human psyche. For instance, the room, your room, smelled differently; it tasted differently. Your eyes, what were usually able to scatter quick glances about yourself yet it came off as completely relaxed and indifferent, your pupils darted as if you had a million things to look at.

This time, your lungs felt small, compressed and with that came each bit of scent the bathroom provided. All of it.

The hint of floral perfume that resided with your sister, most likely used the bathroom beforehand.

The watered-down aloe essence of a bottle of SPF that you guessed to be your brothers because it was strong, closer than the rest.

Then the sweetness of your mother's strawberry cream soap she splashed onto her hair in the morning and onto her skin not long before her eyes were drooping.

The musk of cologne, the sweatiness from the summer night. Some aftershave and others, toothpaste. The mint lingering from it assaulted your olfactories like the taste of charcoal briquettes did your dry throat.

It was everything all at once yet, each scent, noise, sight, touch was distinct. Picked out and pinpointed. You could hear your own heartbeat. You could hear how loudly the door caved a centimeter in its frame when the air from the fan swirled into the vent.

And when the sink began to crumble under your grip it was loud, deafening. A tidal wave and snap made entirely of your own anger. You couldn't bear to look in the mirror. You couldn't bear to lift your head and see a monster looking back at you.

You'd been in this state for hours, every minute, every single second, you could feel the warmth of the blood pumping through your veins, moving each muscle slowly, one by one. You knew the bone structure had settled as you curled in on yourself, facing the wall by the sink.

For the first half hour -though to you it felt like two- your mother had banged against the door, concerned by the slight creak and the heat you emitted through it. She cursed, cried. Stomped. After a while it became nothing but background noise to your ears, the vibrations going ignored against the center of your back, directly underneath her hand.

You heard her steps across the floor and the buzz of the phone line and then Sam but the searing hot pain encapsulating your muscles blocked you from hearing what he was saying; the only two words you picked up was 'let' and 'normal'. In short, he was barking reassuring sentences that were more mumbled than articulated in your ears.

More importantly, you could faintly sense just how long Sam had been on the line with your mother. Time kept going and the more it did, the clearer everything was from the white paint chipping off the door frames, to the noises in your own body.

But the heat never ceased, you couldn't find any salve that stenched and wouldn't flare your instincts even further, and any attempt to scratch yourself in frustration and ease the sting left a burning in your arm and no relief.

You were hot.

Hot.

Wet.

Hot and wet and burning.

You were burning, literally burning. Every nerve, every bit of skin was put on a sensitive scale against the brightest scalding iron fire and it fucking hurt. It fucking hurt so much, the longer it went on, and the longer it did go on, the quicker the seconds ticked by and you dripped and dripped in sweat and you couldn't seek any salvation of cold even as you continue to drown your face, your hair, your seething skin in cold water.

Your body reacted in the worst possible ways, taking every inch of your willpower to not lash out at your family members as they fussed over you in complete and utter worry, turning up the AC to arctic like degrees as they all bundled underneath quilts and heavy sweaters as the rain pattered harshly against the metal roofing.

It took an angry snarl, snapping from your teeth clacking together aggressively in the general direction of your family as their constant pacing, their buzzing over your conditions that they had finally settled. Tried to act like you weren't being tortured by your own cells, membranes, nerves and veins.

Your muscles cramped on multiple occasions in their adjustment and every time, Sam would be through the screen door, speaking loudly over the crashing of thunder and lightning, spouting off nonsense to assure you that, 'it gets better with time, it'll pass, focus on what it feels like to transform back faster'.

And you would cry out to him in rage, telling him to leave, go back home, to shut up, that this was his fault, his doing, and, for a moment, you seemed to scare yourself with just how animalistic your words were, sounding more like a literal wolf than actual human speech.

He was wrong.

Wrong.

All wrong.

This shouldn't be happening.

With nothing to help ease the pain, you'd found yourself, wrenching the knob of the faucet off of the handle and it had shattered with a small zap that you felt against your searing hands.

Again, your body convulsed, your muscles twitched and you heard a shriek in your ears at the piercing stab, the fire that licked your insides in a vicious inferno.

You sat against the flooring of the tub, breathing quick and wheezy, knees bent upward as your arms wrapped around yourself.

Hot. Hot. Hot.

It was always hot.

It was so hot.

So fucking hot that you didn't hear the slight creak of the door opening. Or the light footsteps that moved behind you.

Burning, burning, burning.

The freezing water felt like pebbles poking at your flesh until you could feel the fat beneath your skin being boiled.

You swallowed thickly, hard around the growl gathering in your throat.

Though you were drowning in what would normally feel comfortable and ease the fever swelling your skin, leaving it hot to the touch, instead it felt the same; you held no relief.

But this had worked before, or the pain eased enough that you were able to think without feeling your mind split.

On those occasions, you'd have a single moment of coherent thought before your body began trembling from an aching heat that came over you like a summer fog.

Last night had been the worst of it. Unbearable. Intense. It made your stomach do flips, threatening to spill out what little contents there were. Not even two hours ago you retched up a gallon of stomach acid, black tar-like muck. You shook through another shiver.

Ceramic shards clung to your nails like glue.

You had no care for them as you pressed your face into your knees, hoping, yearning that the water from the shower would return you back to how things were. How they should be. Normal.

A body that wasn't sore, seething. Uncomfortable.

Normal skin. That didn't catch every hue of light in the bathroom or smelled like nothing but the strong detergent used to wash away the bloody pieces of bark from the night before.

You remained with your eyes screwed shut, but you felt how quickly they blinked with need for more water. A need for something below freezing.

You waited.

Hoped.

Prayed.

You wished so hard on your breath that what was supposed to be a chilled drip instead fell like globs of goo, coating your head and shoulder blades.

You waited.

Waited.

Each second ticked and like yesterday, everything was loud again.

You heard the shower curtain crinkle slightly under the water falling freely atop you, it also made an abstract splattering sound as it hit the floor tiles but no longer fell in waves of droplets like it did before, no longer providing the soft chill to your inflamed skin.

Waited.

For your body to cooperate.

To fix itself.

You shouldn't have had to focus.

Focus.

That's the one thing that rattled your brain, pulled back and forth between each, as Sam continued with that word; he spat it out to you like it meant everything, like it should have you focusing. Yet.

Nothing.

Your muscles had ceased in the cramping but you assumed that was the first step in returning to normal.

It was still hot.

Furiously hot.

A raging wildfire.

Tears swam down your cheeks, across your lips, dipping in your mouth and clacking against your teeth and you remained as a lump of nothing in the dark room.

Waiting.

It wasn't the water that did it for you.

It was the loud, bitterly cold, small and circular patch of coolness that soon turned to multiples that struck you. You didn't feel it at first, couldn't decipher what it was you felt, but all the same, you tensed up.

Focused.

In annoyance, your muscles rippled and it put a gasp in your chest as the ice chips -or so they felt like- clanked in onto your back.

Ice.

Someone was putting ice on you.

Someone was touching you.

Someone who wasn't Sam.

It wasn't your mom.

And they were speaking.

But you couldn't hear.

Couldn't make your ears focus just on the voice.

Couldn't force your neck to twist and look as the muscles spasmed beneath the movement.

You couldn't find who spoke to you as they ran their fingers softly along your back.

From your neck and spine to the small of your being.

You couldn't make out a simple sentence either.

You couldn't make out what had happened moments before, only that the water was ceasing and your body was scorching again at the lack, only to abruptly lower to a simmer when you felt something enveloping you entirely. Something cold.

Something that must have smelled familiar yet, sickeningly sweet.

Softer than the air moving around, swishing and swaying as the curtain slid back further.

Something soft.

Something familiar but not quite within your reach yet.

You could almost remember it but in doing so your head began to pound.

Everything was loud; if it weren't you were almost certain that it would be deafening.

But then, with the last drag of each blink, you could feel the anger in you being gradually drowned out by something else, something unfamiliar. An intruder. It made your body jerk, jerk away from the cold source of salvation, jerk from the very thing that was keeping you grounded and your memory on track to forming; it made you feel weak in doing so and at the same time, scared, horrified, but calm. It put you at ease.

Almost.

And again you could smell a sweetness that flooded your nostrils and set the hairs inside teetering away from the rot, the decay. Your body jerked again. Instinctively. Out of your control.

But the cold, the cold that you slowly came to recognition with, held you firm. Limbs they were. Your vision was clouded in and out but they were limbs. Chiseled, scarred arms that felt like an ice statue come to life. Pressed so tightly against you that you began to slack. You began to hear.

"There we go... That's it..." A voice cooed softly, a dulcet soothing tone that rocked through the room and filled your ears; smooth, deep and enticing.

You swallowed harshly, a snarl stuck in the pit of your gut that stung and left you winded the moment your eyes were directed upwards. Your sight blurred instantly but the more you blinked they began to regain life. The wolf of you was being pushed further beneath the surface and the whine of protest inside went ignored for a few seconds.

"Breath and just relax. "

It was him.

Jasper.

It was Jasper.

And this time you could get a better look of him.

There were two, thick lines between his eyebrows that pushed and bulged the skin as he stared down at you in concentration, as if he were attempting to figure out the world's greatest puzzle.

His pupils were a hazy gold.

Almost a yellow.

A pale yellow, mixed with orange.

Red orange.

Almost sunset like.

"It's just me. " Jasper spoke quietly. So quiet, so gentle. Unlike his kind. Something stirred and growled inside you but in doing so Jasper's shoulders tensed and his eyes were narrowed just the slightest. "Just me. " His voice came and wafted.

You hadn't the strength to pick your limp body off of him, only to relish in the cool feeling of his skin against you and when he saw the dark pools of your black eyes clear from the threatening growl the lines above his eyebrows disappeared.

Some sort of moment had passed, a moment where he seemed to have returned to a child-like manner and focused in on you to the best of his capabilities.

"You're burning up. " A cold finger against the heat at your forehead and you jerked back but not roughly enough to leave his arms. Though the wince on your face did.

For the first time since your eyes adjusted, you met his gaze.

Slightly crumbled, Jasper's face relaxed as he offered a slow nod. "Healin' nicely. "

That's right, healing. You hadn't noticed that they were sore until he mentioned it. Scars along your face were slowly going away. "It shouldn't leave a mark. "

But what concerned you was how rough your skin felt. There was a sharp stinging as you slowly relaxed against him, and it stung like needles, and prickled like spines and thorns, the feeling was still dulled despite his cold flesh and the layer of cloth between his and your nearly-bursting skin.The white button up shirt was completely drenched, droplets slid off of the stark creams like shimmering diamonds.

"It's hot. " Was all you could get out, voice hoarse, grating against your tender flesh, torn and pulled in dozens of different directions. You wondered if talking was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Your instincts bubbled to the surface but never quite breached to the point where you snapped and growled.

"I know. " You heard the drop in his throat, the way his breath rolled with his mouth and he bent forward, hand to your forehead, through your hair, pushing the wet strands away from your face.

He watched you intently, gaze scanning for signs that gave hint to your pain.

You closed your eyes tight but his hand slipped lower, down your cheek, and coming to just about your chin. His hand cradled you, making a cold burning under your bones, under your flushed flesh and a wave of want spilled over you that you couldn't wipe away.

"I didn't know it was like this. " It was a whisper.

Your jaw hurt but you tilted to look at him more clearly. It was his touch. His hand.

"This wasn't what I felt from you when you first changed. "

"This is the aftermath. " Another voice. Booming. Louder than his. Slightly indifferent. And both your neck and head pounded painfully as you snapped to see the owner. It was Sam. Standing in the doorway.

Your mind cleared. "You shouldn't be here. " You choked on the second word. Heard a rumble in your head but it subsided when Jasper's large, cold hand pressed firmer to your cheek, bringing you back against him.

He was so soft to you. Too soft.

Sam addressed you. Tone even. "It's forgiven. " His eyes cross Jasper's.

"Just make sure the boys don't find out. " He paused. Thinking. Then. "Be careful. " He repeated. Sam turned to take his leave. His tall frame filled the doorway almost entirely with his size but you thought nothing of him leaving, as there was yet another tremor in your stomach.

Pain, a horrible stabbing type of pain, began shooting from underneath your skin like needles and for a second you forgot of Jasper's existence, forgot of your situation, and curled into yourself in hopes the pain would go away.

It was then you felt his hands encase you, one of your shoulder blades, the other pressing to the small of your back. His fingers dug into the bare flesh and you held onto that as you shook. He felt how the veins rippled the flesh around them and an ache came to him as he reached and tugged you up, the material of his clothes catching against the shower curtain when you finally, after several minutes, allowed Jasper to pick you up, your body pressed entirely to his, and he whispered to you with his usual calmness, brushing away your hair that dripped, and gently told you to breathe.

"In and out. "

If it weren't for the fog swarming your better judgment, you might have found your resolve, snapped and jumped at the sweet gesture. But nothing was going to fight through the high fever, and aching, pungent sting from the very needle pricking every inch of your skin at once.

Jasper tried again.

"Just breathe. "

You sucked air, a short gasp and it was like broken glass sliding down your throat. Painful and nauseating but the moment Jasper's skin dug deeper into your body, holding you tighter than before, easing his embrace by stroking a cold hand along the length of your arm and slipping further downward.

"In and out... Slowly. "

The burn on your skin stopped abruptly and you heard him say "there" but it felt weird.

At ease, the moment you began breathing slowly, his cold digits like magic against your arm, traveling gradually, in circles, all the way up to the bend of your neck and just the very corner of your jaw, and then falling to your thigh and repeating the same motion. It was soothing. Like your muscles didn't know what to do with themselves.

"Are you better? " The voice bounced against his chest and you weren't quite sure how, but you managed to nod, the action causing the world to spin. Jasper nodded back at you, gaze in that constant look of concern, as if he'd never been worried a day in his life. "Do you want to stay here or do you want me to take you somewhere else?"

A low and rather aggressive growl surfaced in the back of your throat and you felt your limbs all come to a standstill and tremble. Jasper's body tensed as he looked to you. All the muscles that were massaging the sting in your body hardened, no longer soft as you wanted.

"Alright, " his eyes didn't waver from you and the golden depths had you staring, he swallowed and sighed out a heavy breath, "it's just me again. Remember that. Okay? Only me. " His voice rumbled his chest and made you feel comfortable again, easy, the boiling in your bones all began to settle.

Still, that anger you felt inside continued with that growl that made him ever so tense, ever so weary. You could feel his body lean back, situating into the curve of the tub. "I'm alone. " Jasper whispered now, lowering his head to yours, cheek to your forehead and your eyelids slid half-way down, pupils dilating just the slightest, "Breathe. " He said. "Deeply. " The tip of his cold nose brushed along the space of your skull and for a moment it appeared as if he contemplated his actions but continued on.

There you could smell the strength of his scent with an underlying sweetness to his dead flesh, the scent of a vampire; still, you didn't jump or shove him off. And he exhaled the biggest breath you had ever seen a vampire take.

He did this several times, took several deep, calming breaths. As if it were to sedate your beast within, that monstrous, ravenous hunger that lay buried beneath the confines of your now flesh and bones, but far beyond control of your own.

Eventually you caught the air without it stabbing into your lungs like those needles and his arm moved to become wrapped, almost entirely, completely around your chest, and pulling you firmer to him, moving from the crook of the bath to the center of the room, sliding in a motion so inhuman and smooth, past the wash rack and the closet, to the wall, leaning your sore back against the plaster. You leaned. Not just leaned, but collapsed against him as your body relaxed.

So strange, so inhumane and entirely disgusting at the fact that a vampire, an immortal, the vilest, putrid stench to nature, could make you feel so comforted, so tranquil, and ease all the pains you had felt.

As if the moon had begun shifting its cycle of phases while in his arms, you found yourself staring into his eyes, watching the shadows of darkness become your savior.

The pressure in your head was gone, the aching and pinching in your bones were coming to a comfortable stand still, leaving you numb in parts, and full of an incredible urge to drift off into the darkness, where you felt more... At ease.

Jasper's gaze swept over your flushed features and he slowly reached to push the loose strands of hair from your face, fingers caressing your cheek bone and over the prickled skin on your neck and slowly, down to your left shoulder.

Your collar bone.

"Is it any better?" A whisper to your ears. Rough, jagged along his cold tongue and you fought the urge to show your teeth back.

"Yeah. " It was the first word that came to you, coherent, but the word itself sent a sharp pain up the muscle and you winced visibly. Jasper's eyes searched your face once more but never directly met yours.

When your heart began spazzing for his affection, you bit your tongue.

"Don't try to talk anymore. Rest. " His voice was soft and the muscles below your flesh rippled as he acted as a crutch on the way to your bedroom. It was at the end of the hall and to the right.

At the door his nose wrinkled, as did the skin along his upper lip, but he said nothing of the burning smell of wet dog.

His steps were swift as he carefully positioned himself through the threshold.

You stumbled to your mattress and fell weakly at the foot of it, Jasper's grip loosening and fingers unfurling from your flesh.

You settled into the cooled sheets and watched him intently as he carefully closed the door behind him. You only lifted your torso and crawled on your knees up to the pillows and got lost in there. They hid your flushed, irritated body against the rough surface.

Jasper stood for what felt like a long time near the door, standing by your closet and watched. You were too exhausted to think, it was nearing the start of daylight outside, and your eyes shut involuntarily, each blink longer than the last.

You were so tired but the anger persisted even when sleep took you. You dreamt not.

Unintentionally, you fell asleep.

For Jasper, however, he stood for several minutes just staring at your still body.

All was quiet and peaceful, the world outside was just wakening with the sounds of the birds, and the leaves were still, unmoving, but the air was dry. Just a couple of hours ago and this same place was like a cave. Smelling of beasts, of fur and musk, the woods themselves had a strong scent in this area, yet it changed suddenly.

To normalcy. And he wasn't quite sure how he felt, what the rest of the family, of his brothers and sisters, his mother and father would say when he returned smelling of dog.

The type of dog that sought to cease their existence.

Their natural doom.

The very dog that'd nearly tore their heads from their bodies days prior.

However, being this close to you and noticing the increase in hormones among all other smells, though, for the most part, the odor was horrendous, more specifically, that you were feeling better, not dying or in any more pain, was enough for Jasper to ignore anything else.

#jasper hale #jasper hale x male reader #jasper hale x gn reader #twilight #twilight saga #sam uley #twilight wolfpack #carlisle cullen #edward cullen #twilight vampires #jasper hale x reader #jasper x you #twilight x you #jasper hale x y/n #twilight x y/n #werewolf reader #twilight wolves #jasper whitlock

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monstersandgirls-webtoons · 6 months

Note

do you have songs that you feel represent certain characters?

Damn I've been kind of waiting for an ask like this because Yes I absolutely do.

Lili: "WantMe" by RITCHRD, "Everyone's a V.I.P. to Someone" and "Huddle Formation" by the Go! Team, "You Needed Me" by Anne Murray

Sera: "Gravestone without a Date" by Shiro SAGISU (also the bossa version, which i think fits Sera more), "4:00 AM" by Taeko Onuki (also fits Powers well)

Powers: "Love Was Really Gone" by Makoto Matsushita, "Manchild" by Eels, "Who Will Know" by Shiro SAGISU, "Papa, Can You Hear Me?" by Barbra Streisand (I also consider this song the peak Powers song)

Cheri: "Fly Me to the Moon" by Frank Sinatra, "Cycle Song" by Imogen Heap

Junior: "Don't Know Why" by Norah Jones, "Gone Guru" by Lifeseeker

Ciel: "Nobody" by Mitski, "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" by Regina Spektor

Catty: "Boyfriend, Girlfriend" by Tyler the Creator

Domino: "Bad Boys" by Wham!, "Dancing on Quicksand" by Bad Suns, "Death by Glamour" from Undertale

Adam: "Halfcrazy" by Musiq Soulchild

Luvart: "The Ballad of Billy the Kid" by Billy Joel, also I think death metal would suit her

Eva: "Mirrors" by Caravan Palace, "C'est Comma Ca" by Paramore (but the Wet Lag version), "Soldier of Love" by Sade

Mara: "Kitty Kat" by Megan Thee Stallion, "Trampoline" by Kero Kero Bonito

Scylla: "STFU" by Rina Sawayama, "OKAY SHAWTY" by Kwe the Artist, "Break Shit" by Jasiah

Shuck: "Me and Michael" by MGMT

Also I consider "Something Stupid" by Frank and Nancy Sinatra the peak Sera and Lili song

#ask #everyone

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wonbinistic · 6 months

Text

NETFLIX & CHILL

pairing: park wonbin x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), cursing, needy wonbin, spit, cum eating, wonbin calling you mommy like 2x

[If you're wondering about the format it's because it was supposed to be just thoughts only but then I got carried away lol]

chilling with wonbin 90% of the time ends up with you choking on his cock.

the atmosphere is relaxing with heavy sexual tension in the air. it's past afternoon when you're both huddled on his bed binging your favorite shows on his laptop. you're leaning against him, arms around his torso while his is thrown over your shoulder holding you close to him. the only sounds in the room radiating from the laptop and the air conditioner.

wonbin isn't really paying attention to whatever is happening in the show, letting his thoughts wander.

he can't help but think of two days prior when you insisted on giving him head in the green room, taking full control. he never spoke that out loud but he finds it such a turn on whenever you take the lead.

you had stuffed his favorite pair of your lacy red panties in his mouth forcing him to be quiet in the admits of a photoshoot set for the new comeback. you've been quite vocal about how sexy you found his new hair colour but he didn't think you would go this wild for it, dropping to your knees to suck him off where you could be caught at any moment.

he turns to you for a swift look, observing your lip gloss tainted lips. he also can't help but take a glance at your exposed cleavage. you feel him being fidgety and throw him a questioning look which he shrugs off.

it would be hard to hide the boner from you with you being so close.

he doesn't wanna ruin the quietude but he's also horny and wants your mouth on him. wonbin is usually good at getting what he wants but he felt stuck in place at the moment not knowing how to approach you with his “little” problem.

fortunately you notice what's happening and start to trail your fingers under his shirt, grazing your nails above his beltline.

“feeling needy babyboy?”

the nickname leaves him straining harder against his pants and he only nods bashfully. you take the laptop from his lap placing it on the bedside table before dictating your attention fully to him. he's sat against the headboard running hot as you tap against the side of his hip. his cock jumps out when you pull his pants down to his thigh.

“what do you want baby? talk to me” you whisper against the crock of his neck, leaving feather kisses below the jawline.

“need your mouth, please.” he whimpers, eyes pleading you to take action as soon as possible.

your hands wraps around his pulsing cock, beginning to play with the slick on his reddened tip.

wonbin had a pretty cock with prominent veins reaching to the tip which shared the same shade as his lips. he kept the hair trimmed, sometimes going for a full shave.

he gnawed on the bottom of his lip watching your actions. his cock twitches in anticipation when you lean down puckering your lips to let a blob of spit fall on it. you pumped him a few times before finally taking him in your mouth. wonbin let out a needy moan fisting the sheets underneath him for support.

“oh- my god” his hips thrusted upwards choking you up for a second. you slap his thigh, giving him a warning glare.

spit collects at the corner of your mouth dribbling down to the valley of your chest. the filthy wet sounds are the only noise in the room paired with wonbins desperate whimpers.

his head falls back, eyes rolling to the back of his head when your pace quickens. you force yourself down to take him whole choking on the process.

you take him out of your mouth for a fresh breath of air before taking him right back in, running your wet muscle around the tip.

“so good to me, you're so good to me” wonbin continues to babble lost in trance.

with your other hand you decide to give his balls some attention kneading them in your hand. wonbins hips jerk forward with no intention but you slow down your actions, receiving a whiny complaint from him. your sloppy pace only irritates him further.

“s’close… please mommy.”

“need to come into your mouth” he gasps when he feels your teeth graze slightly along his girth. his body shudders at the sensation.

“be a good boy and don't hold back bin.”

“yes mommy.” he mumbles. he tilts his head, viewing you intently immersed in your action. he feels the air in his throat get stuck when your pace begins to fasten again. his jaw falls slack, the hand on your head gripping at the strands. the noises fall out of him naturally not being able to hold himself back anymore. his thighs jolt when he senses your nails digging into his skin. you bob your head faster, swallowing more cum with each stroke.

“i-im gonna cum - fuck i'm coming.” his head fall back and he lets out a high pitched moan echoing throughout the entire dorm.

you don't manage to catch all of his seed, letting the warm sticky substance run down his cock. you swipe a finger at it bringing it to his lips which he accepts instantly swirling his tongue around your finger, tasting his own release. he hums around your finger before you take it to replace it with your own lips.

wonbin moans again your mouth letting your tongue inside, your tongues gliding against one another.

“I love you.”he pants out of breath.

“I love you too bunny.”

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into-the-grey · 1 month

Text

~It's Raining, It's Pouring~

Noah x F!Reader fic

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Mild Smut and some Angst

Sometimes, people are just meant to be in each others lives. And sometimes, magic happens.

Warnings: mentions of SH, allusions towards Suicide, allusions towards abusive family, mentions of death, brief smut (theyre both 18 by this point), high school, mental illness, panic attack, divorce, mild jealousy

WC: 13.2k

Taglist: @wh0th3h3llisbucky @blend-in-with-the-madness

RIP my YouTube history, I think I played It’s Raining, It’s Pouring by Anson Seabra for 7 hours straight working on this. Also, the tense probably changes a few times because I never write in second person, I apologise for that, still learning a bit. It might go from past to present tense and back again a few times. This is a new format, and a new way of writing for me, so let's see how it goes.

Fic Masterlist

Alright; ON WITH THE SHOW

Once upon a time, there were two people. Those two people were star-crossed, fated, meant to be. All of the romantic stories could have been about them. It wasn't a grand adventure for him to find her, and he didn't have to save her from a dragon. And she had never been locked in a tower, or forced into slavery by an evil step-mother.

No.

No, it was much simpler than that.

You. You were the one who lived in the house down the street. The house that he rode past every day on his bike when he was young. You were the one he used to see in the neighbourhood, playing with your friends and climbing the tree at the end of the block that all the kids were convinced was a magic wishing tree.

You were the one who came to school with notes in your lunchbox from your mom and knew that you were loved.

And him? He was the kid with the witch for a mom. She wasn't really a witch, but she scared a lot of the kids on the block. She would stand in the street, yelling for him to come home, and if he didn't show up, she'd give up and lock him out for the night. He was the one who came to school with bags under his eyes wearing the same hoodie he'd been wearing for a week.

He was the one who would look at all the kids around him, wishing he could be like you.

You found him in the wishing tree once. That day, you ran down the block, adamant that the tree would help you pass a test in your fourth grade science class. As an adult, you know how stupid you were, but back then it was the most obvious answer.

He was in the tree, high up in it's branches. He huddled in on himself as the cold wind whipped against his skin. He was alone, but his lips moved as tears rolled slowly down his cheeks. His bloodshot eyes fixed on you as you climbed higher, his lips pressing into a thin line as he watched you nervously.

You didn't hesitate for a second.

'Hi,' you said brightly, seeing his pain. You didn't know how to help him, and your eight year old brain couldn't imagine the gravity of his troubles. All you were sure of was that he was there, and he was upset. 'What are you wishing for?'

'Nothing.' His lie was blunt, and his eyes flitted away from you as he sniffed hard against his tears. He drew his heels in under himself as he perched on the thickest branch, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees while he shivered.

'Oh,' you said softly. 'I was going to wish for help on my test tomorrow. It's a science test and I suck at science. But, if you want, I can wish for whatever you were wishing for? It might help to have more than one person wishing for it?'

He scoffed, his deep brown eyes looking you over quickly before returning his hard stare back to his purpling fingers.

'A science test? Why didn't you just study?' he asked, his voice low. His hard shell seemed to crack as he glanced back at you a few times.

'I got distracted,' you admitted. 'A lot. Focussing is kind of hard for me, my mom says I have attention problems, but my dad thinks I'm just making it up to get people to feel sorry for me.' You leaned against a branch, tugging awkwardly at the sleeves of your pale blue hoodie. 'Sometimes my brain goes too fast though, and I can't read or I say stupid things that I don't mean. It's embarrassing.'

'Like offering a wish to a stranger?' he said, a snip in his voice. The words cut through you, stinging as you digested them. Your lip jutted out in a pout as you felt your gut twisting from his insult.

'Yeah,' you nodded sadly 'I guess...'

Your turned dejectedly, wishing silently for the boy to learn some manners, and grabbing the branch to lower yourself down.

'Wait,' he called. Your head snapped back to him, seeing him staring at you. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean it.'

You smiled weakly up at him, and after a brief pause, you made your choice. You scaled the branches and hauled yourself up to his level. As you reached him, you sat on the only other branch that stays steady under your weight, just above him in the dying leaves. The cool breeze rustled through the leaves, a few coming loose and drifting around you while the sky above darkened.

'I'm Y/N,' you said, pulling your hood up to protect you from the chill. Your introduction sounded eager, like you were asking for something. Mentally you kicked yourself, but he seemed receptive.

'I know, I've seen you at school,' he told you, shifting slightly to face you. He chewed the inside of his lip while he wiped his sleeves over his face, trying to erase the traces of his tears. No matter how hard he wiped, there was no way for him to erase the hollow sadness in his eyes. The moment you saw it, you knew there was more to this boy than he let on.

'I've seen you too. You're in Miss Forson's class, right?' you asked. You watched him nod slowly.

'Yeah. My name is Noah. You've probably heard it being yelled down the street enough times...'

'That's your mom, isn't it? The one who stands on the lawn yelling?'

Noah nodded, his cheeks flushing red and hanging his head. He clenched his fists and sniffed again, tears welling in his eyes.

'Yeah, that's her.'

'You're hiding from her, right?' you prodded.

'Yeah,' he said, his voice thick as he swallowed down the pain welling in his chest.

'Do you do that a lot?'

He nodded again, unable to look at you now. Your face fell, watching him picking at his nails and seeing his lip quiver.

'If you want, my mom would probably let you stay at my house? We could play my playstation for a while?' you offered. 'But, you gotta help me with my science test, just for a little while so my mom thinks you're not just there to distract me.' You giggled when you saw the corner of his lips lift into a smile. A sad one, but a smile nonetheless.

'Are you sure?' he asked timidly, looking at you with a glint of hope. 'I'm not really good at science...'

'That's okay, I'm not really good at playstation,' you told him.

A fat raindrop fell through the branches and the leaves, landing smack dab on your head with a pronounced 'plop'. You reached for your hair, feeling the wet spot and giggling more.

More raindrops fell, slowly turning the sidewalk below into a picture of grey polka dots. Noah followed your gaze, seeing the drops colouring in the concrete.

'I guess it's better than being out here in the rain,' he agreed, finally releasing his knees from his vice grip and stretching out to reach the branch below him to begin his descent. You smiled at him, following his lead and dropping off your branch.

Once you were on solid ground and you had a moment, you looked at him. Shaggy brown hair hung in his warm hazel eyes. A light dusting of freckles covered his nose, and a gentle smile lifted his pink lips. He stood only just taller than you, maybe an inch? An inch and a half at most.

You offered him your hand, leading him down the street towards your house. He walked slowly, letting the raindrops fall on the both of you. Normally, you'd run for home to get out of the rain, but something about him made the rain less intimidating. You felt safe with him the moment you saw him in that tree.

What you didn't know was that he felt safe with you too. A stark contrast to how things were at home. Noah had a strained relationship with his mom, and he never told you just how bad things were, but you knew it was worse than he let on.

He found solace in you and your home. Your mom welcomed him in, knowing exactly who he was and who his mom was. Noah's mom was known around the street, and a few of the parents in the neighbourhood were familiar with Noah's hiding spots. They would all keep a quiet eye on him whenever they saw him near their houses, knowing that someone had to.

When you brought him home to your mom, she didn't question anything. The two of you stood on the front doorstep, dripping and cold, and all your mom did was laugh and find you two the biggest fluffiest towels in the house. She brought you inside and found you a change of clothes, letting Noah have one of your oversized pokemon t-shirts and a pair of your dad's old gym shorts.

Your dad wasn't happy about it, but your mom shut him up. Never in front of you or Noah though. She wouldn't dare fight with your dad in front of the two of you, but you didn't miss the pointed glares she would shoot at him over the dinner table when your dad would make a remark.

Noah became a staple in your house, feeling safer there than at home. You liked having him there too, he was a lot smarter than he let on, and he was funny. Plus, he was really good at the playstation, he could help you beat the tougher levels. He even completed Crash Bandicoot for you when you got stuck on the hog riding level. And yes, he helped you with your science test, and you passed.

Some nights, Noah would sneak in through the dog door in the laundry and creep into your room. The first time he did it, it scared the hell out of you, but you got used to it quickly. Those nights were hard. He would wake you up in tears, but he would never tell you why. And when he did, you would simply scooch over and let him into the bed, rubbing his back while he cried himself to sleep.

Your dad would always ask who left the dog door open. Your mom never admitted it, but there were a few nights that you caught her unlocking it before she went to bed.

You two grew up together. Joined at the hip, you went everywhere together, did everything together...

And then high school happened. The first year was supposed to be exciting, you were meant to be enjoying life and all the perks that came with being high schoolers. Instead, your parents got a divorce.

Noah held you while you cried, fearing that your dad would try and make you move to Topeka with him. He mourned the breaking apart of your family with you, and he kept you distracted by playing video games with you or by hiding in the wishing tree with you.

Your mom gave him a key to the house the day your dad moved out, telling him he didn't need to sneak through the dog door anymore. He hugged your mom, unable to find the words to thank her. She even cleared out your dad's study and turned it into a bedroom for him.

Then came the awkward "talk". Your mom sat you down on the couch one day when Noah wasn't there, telling you that while she understood you two were close, that sex is a big deal and if you're not ready, then you can always tell him no.

She didn't judge, but she taught you all about protection, and asked that you wait until you were sure.

You laughed at her, telling her that there was no way you'd ever have sex with Noah. He was your best friend, and you told her you didn't feel that way about him. She just smirked at you, nodding and saying 'okay.'

But when you went to bed that night, you couldn't help thinking about it. You felt weird as you laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling with the images of Noah on top of you flashing through your mind.

Maybe you did feel that way, but you would never dare tell him.

That night, when Noah crept into your room, you comforted him and you felt butterflies as you held him. Silently, you cursed your mother for making you think about him that way, but you didn't let on that anything had changed.

At school, you joined music class with Noah, and he found something in himself. You watched him beam whenever he touched a keyboard or picked up a guitar. Lyrics seemed to flow from him like a fountain. He was magical.

You wished you were as good as him. But through music, he found his friend Nick. Nick was nice, and he hung out with you guys at lunch, but at the end of the day, Noah would come home to you. You tried to like Nick, but you couldn't help that teenage bubble of jealousy as he and Noah bonded over something that you just couldn't do.

And then Noah left. He just stopped coming to school.

The first day, you texted him and asked him where he was. He was blunt, telling you he wasn't coming. You assumed that he was just sick, or skipping for the day. But one day turned into two. Two became three. Three became a week. A week became a month.

After that, you knew to just let him sleep when you got up in the mornings. At least he was still in your room, still with you.

He got a job to fill his days, working at Nick's family's tattoo studio. Noah wasn't the art type, he couldn't really draw, so he never picked up a tattoo gun, but the money wasn't bad. He would bring you little trinkets and gifts sometimes. He even saved up to buy himself a car. It was an absolute piece of shit, but it ran, it got good gas mileage, and it had a stereo.

Then came the nights where you would drive around aimlessly, discovering more and more of Richmond as you belted out the words to any song you knew. Sometimes Nick would come with you, but you liked it better when it was just you and Noah.

He was growing up, and you loved seeing who he was becoming. He was still the awkward introverted boy you knew, but he was blossoming into a musician. Your mom even bought him a guitar one christmas, making him cry. Because he could finally practice again, he found his way into a cover band. You were their number one fan, and your mom was a close second. She cheered him on in any way she could.

You kept going to school though. You didn't have a choice, you weren't good enough at anything to take the creative path. Every day you wished Noah was there, but you did your best without him. Class was harder without him. It had been years of the two of you side by side, Noah helping you to understand the questions that didn't make sense to you. He would even read the questions aloud to you if you needed it. Now, your grades were slipping. You didn't have your support system, and no one else seemed to believe that it was that hard.

He would help with your homework, but it was getting harder. He'd never learned the subject matter, so he could only do so much. You'd let him read your textbooks, but sometimes neither of you understood what the hell the textbooks were talking about.

One night, a particular project had overstressed you. He held you while you cried, running his fingers through your hair while you tried to compose yourself.

'I can't fucking do this,' you choked, your arms around him while he rested his chin on your head. When did he get so tall?

'You can, it's just your brain,' he shushed you, his voice soft and his arms strong as he held you together. 'There's too much going on in there, isn't there?'

'There always is, you know that,' you told him, letting him sit you down on the side of your bed.

'And what do we normally do about it?' he asked gently, holding your hands and squeezing lightly. As he sat in front of you, you found yourself staring at him, your mouth hanging open while you panted through the tears.

He had the beginnings of a sleeve colouring his arm, the ink peeking out under his three-quarter sleeves. A shiny dermal piercing sat in his cheek, glinting under the low light of your bedside lamp. His warm brown hair hung down almost to his chest, always a layered mess.

But his eyes, those warm brown eyes. They were still the eyes of that boy from so many years ago, searching for comfort in yours. Offering you comfort with him. In them, you could see how much your pain hurt him, and how hard he tried to hide it.

'I don't know if can talk about it,' you whimpered, your gaze shifting to his hands. His long, slender fingers, wrapped up in your shorter, pinker ones. His thumb grazed over your knuckle supportively.

'There's nothing you can't tell me,' he said, both gently and firmly. 'What's different now?'

'Everything.'

'Y/N...' he whispered, shuffling closer. His hands ran gingerly up your arms, and you couldn't help flinching. You closed your eyes, holding your breath as heavy tears blurred your vision. You were thankful, you didn't want to see the pain in his eyes as realisation dawned on him.

'Why?' he asked. You knew he knew. It had been a while since you'd done that. You'd been clean since your dad gave up on trying to move you to Topeka. You hadn't needed it...

But school, the projects, the frustration of your brain not working right...

You hadn't felt good enough in a long time. Like something in you was broken. And even though you could normally talk to Noah about these things, Noah had found his people. He found his thing, the thing he was good at. You didn't have that. You were convinced he wouldn't understand anymore.

'I'm not right. I can't do the things everyone else can do,' you whispered. 'My grades are going to shit, and everyone thinks I'm just being lazy, but I just can't fucking do it. No one believes me-' you tell him, crumpling in on yourself as your voice breaks. 'I'm fucking def-fective,' you coughed.

Noah grabbed you, pulling you into his chest and holding you tightly, whispering into your ear.

'You are not defective. You are not lazy, or broken, or any of that bullshit. It's not your fault,' he told you, swaying you back and forth in his grip while he buried his nose in your hair.

'I-' you tried to start, but he shushes you, knowing whatever you were going to say would be negative.

'No, you are the kindest, smartest, most hard-working person I know,' he told you. 'You care so fucking much about other people. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here, that's for sure. It's not your fault that you can't always figure out what the fuck those textbooks say. They're stupid fucking books anyway, written by snooty old guys with nothing better to do than write rules about how numbers should work or brag about how war is great when you win one.'

'Noah-'

'Nope, I'm not done,' he stopped you. 'You don't need to think like them. You think like you, and the way you think is magical. You are so special, and that's what matters. You might not be great at science or math, but you make the most amazing paintings I've ever seen. You write the best stories, and you sing better than half the guys who auditioned for my band. Don't you ever doubt yourself, okay?'

His arms lock tighter around you as his voice hitches in his throat. You nod against him, your arms around his narrow chest. His width had yet to catch up to his height, he was still skinny as anything, but he still gave fantastic hugs.

'I'm sorry-' you try to say, but again, he stops you.

'You. Are. Incredible,' he tells you, punctuating each word as he finds your face and looks at your bloodshot and puffy eyes. 'And you are everything to me, got it? Please, don't ever take yourself away from me like that. I care about you way too much to lose you to that.'

You nod, releasing an arm and wiping your face with your sleeve.

'Y/N,' he breathes, 'I mean it. Please, don't go anywhere.'

Your heart breaks as his firm voice slips, instead pleading with you now.

'I promise,' you tell him, swallowing hard past the lump in your throat. 'I care about you too much to leave you behind.'

'Good.'

Pulling you back into a tight hug, he doesn't tell you that he meant more with those words than you understood. He had for a while. And so had you. Both of you caught in the limbo of what you each thought were unrequited feelings, and neither one of you brave enough to tell the other about the butterflies in your bellies. Neither of you dared to speak the three words that your hearts yearned to say.

I care about you?

No.

I love you.

More than life itself.

Noah made a point to be around a lot more after that night. Sure, he was always around, but he slept in your bed a lot more after that. He watched as your long sleeves became tank tops, always checking to make sure the scars stayed scars.

He even offered to get Nick to tattoo you to cover them up, going as far as asking your mom if she would let you. To your dismay, your mom was against that idea. She let you get away with a lot, but an underage tattoo was toeing the line.

It didn't stop you from getting a tattoo though. It just meant you put it somewhere your mom wouldn't see it. You got Nick to tattoo it on the front of your hip, somewhere even a bikini would cover it.

A little tree, just like the one at the end of the block. Noah held your hand while the needle dragged across your skin, the bony parts hurting the worst. Nick chuckled while you squeezed your eyes shut tight and grimaced at the worst of it.

Finally, senior year rolled around. The best and worst year of your life.

Finally, someone believed you. At school, there was a new counsellor. She recognised something in you that no one else had. You called Noah the second she told you about the letters that changed your life.

ADHD.

That's why you had been struggling so much. That's why things never made sense the first time. Noah celebrated with you when you got home that afternoon, and he went with you to talk to your mom about it.

Your mom was just as excited for you to have an answer, agreeing to help you seek treatment. She couldn't get on the phone to your doctor fast enough. Finally, something made sense. A chance at normalcy...

Noah took you for a drive that night, the two of you sitting in the front seat of the car and screaming along to all the songs on your shared playlist. He drove you out to a lookout and the two of you watched the stars, talking about how different things could be.

He told you about his side project from his cover band, Man Vs Self. He was excited about it, and Nick was getting involved too, and Vincent. You weren't completely familiar with Vincent, but from the few encounters you'd had with him, he seemed nice enough.

He showed you some of the things he was working on for the band, and you had to admit, it was good. Not that you expected any less from him. Noah couldn't make something bad if he tried, it's like it was against his nature.

While you two sat there, you googled everything you could about ADHD, learning more about how your brain worked. A part of you mourned how your life could have been if you had been diagnosed earlier. Things could have been so different, so much easier..

But without the struggle, you never would have found Noah. And you wouldn't change that for the world, and neither would he.

If only things could be so simple forever.

But time marches ever onward, and life goes on.

Noah's band picked up. And after a while, you noticed him withdraw. There was something there, something he didn't want to tell you. Whenever you asked him what was bothering him, he would shy away from the topic, trying to change it quickly.

After a few weeks of pushing, you finally got the answer. He was leaving.

He cried as he told you, telling you he had been seriously considering backing out so he could stay with you. Knowing how much you needed him, it was killing him to choose between making this demo in Jersey or staying with you.

So you chose for him. You told him to go. You told him how much he would hate himself if he didn't try; that if he didn't go for it, he'd never know how far he could go.

You asked him how much time you had left. He told you that you had a month, and that he had no idea what would happen after. For that month, he worked his ass off on that demo, doing everything he could to have it ready to record, but he spent every night with you, promising you that this wasn't goodbye.

The night before he left, the two of you sat in the wishing tree and talked all night. He carved your names into the branches that you'd been sitting on when you met. He held your hand tightly, promising you that he'd come back.

And then he left. You and your mom stood on the driveway, sending him off with a bag of snacks and the tightest hug the two of you had ever shared before your mom came in with a group hug. She told Noah that she was proud of him, a phrase that brought tears to his eyes.

As he drove away in that cramped car, your mom kept her arm around you. The pair of you waved goodbye, watching him disappear down the road. You were thankful he didn't see the tears in your eyes as he disappeared around the corner.

Your mom held you together while you cried for most of the day. And that night, you snuck down to the wishing tree. You scaled its branches, climbing to the high branch that you sat on the day you met Noah and pulling your knees into your chest.

Silently, you whispered to the universe, making yet another wish.

You wished for his success, for him to be brave, and to push through anything this industry could throw at him. But most of all, you wished for him to come back.

Weeks passed, and the end of the school year drew closer. Promposals were exchanged at school, but no one asked you. Your friends all had dates, while you debated if you even wanted to go.

You told Noah as much on one of your nightly calls. You had fallen into a rhythm with him, waiting for him to call you when he was going to bed. Sometimes you had to call him, now that you had a job to fill your time.

It wasn't much, just stacking shelves at the local record store, but it paid better than fast food or waiting tables did.

As prom drew closer, you found Noah egging you to go. He even dared you once. You knew you couldn't say no to a dare, and your mom was more than willing to take you dress shopping.

She found you a beautiful dress, and it cost a small fortune, but she was adamant that you needed to go. Something about a 'rite of passage for a young woman' and 'regretting if you don't go.'

So you did. You went to prom, alone, in your beautiful forest green dress. The colour of the leaves on the wishing tree. And you hated every second of it. You stood in the back of the room, watching all the couples slow dancing while you sipped at a plastic cup of spiked punch.

Until a hand graced your arm.

'Care to dance?' he asked you. You turned, hope blooming in your chest.

But it wasn't him. It was someone else, Jacob? Joshua? You never learned this guy's name. He was a theatre kid with cropped black hair and too-tight skinny jeans. Sure, he was nice, but it wasn't Noah.

So you shook your head.

'Thanks, but I'm good. I was thinking I might head off.'

He just nodded at you, wandering off in search of a different dance partner.

And you did. You left, wandering out of the school gym and through the halls. You didn't cry, even though you really wanted to. You kicked your heels off and scooped them up as you walked through the quiet halls, the music echoing behind you as it seemed to taunt you.

Outside, the cool night air sunk into your skin, a welcome change from the stuffy air of the gym.

You were about to shortcut across the grass to get to the parking lot where you had parked the car. Your mom had loaned you hers for the evening, and you figured if she thought you were out for the night, she wouldn't mind if you went for a drive, as long as you put gas in it before returning it.

A car came careening into the lot as you stepped onto the wet lawn, grass sticking to your bare feet as you moved. The car came to a stop, and the engine silenced. His voice rang out across the parking lot, your head snapping over to him the moment you heard it.

Noah.

He slammed the car door, running over to you as fast as he could. Your heart stopped as you looked at him. He was dressed in a white button down with the sleeves rolled up, a black vest, and a skinny tie hanging from his neck.

You grinned, tears pricking at your eyes as you ran at him, throwing your shoes on the ground. You threw your arms around him and sank into his grip, feeling him hold you like his life depended on it.

'Were you leaving?' he asked as he squeezed you tightly, a hint of a laugh in his voice.

'I didn't have anyone to dance with,' you told him with a shrug. 'Plus, it's kinda crap in there, the music isn't even that good. You came a long way for nothing,' you joked.

'Definitely not nothing,' he told you, pulling back and looking down at you. You missed his eyes, and the way he smiled at you. Your heart fluttered as he grinned down at you.

'Oh?' you asked him, 'so what really made you come back? If the renowned draw of prom night sex wasn't the reason, it must be really good.'

He smirked as you teased him.

'Well, there's this girl I really like, and while I was gone the guys told me I should really talk to her and tell her how I feel about her. They had a point, so I was kind of hoping you could help me out with that?' He asked nervously.

You could feel his hands trembling as he laced his fingers with yours. You didn't dare let your smile falter. He couldn't know how much your heart was breaking at the idea of there being someone else.

'I mean, I can... but you've gotta tell me who she is before I can help,' you said, trying to keep that teasing tone in your voice.

Noah shook his head, chewing the inside of his lip nervously.

'She's probably the kindest, sweetest, funniest girl I've ever met. Y/N, I think I'm in love with her, I've just been too scared to tell her because I didn't want to lose her.'

'Noah-' you breathed, stepping back. You wanted so desperately to be right, but you needed to hear it from him. You watched as he took a deep breath, locking his eyes on yours.

'I love you, Y/N. So much.' he finally said, pulling you back to him and lifting his hand to your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat at his touch.

All those nights of picturing what it could be like, the tingles at his touch, the thoughts you had tried to squash, it all came flooding forward. There was no denying it now. You were desperately in love with him too, and you didn't need to hide it anymore. The butterflies were free, no longer being squashed down and digested. You felt like you could float as he drew nearer.

Your breath quickened, your hand running up his chest and resting over his heart. You could feel it hammering beneath your fingers as you smiled up at him. In his eyes, you could see his fear while he hung on every breath, waiting for your answer.

'I love you, Noah. You have no idea how much I love you.'

A relieved laugh left his lips, and he leaned in. His lips brushed yours. At first it was tender, learning how you felt, how you kissed. After a moment, the kiss became confident, your arm wrapped around his neck while his hand rested on your lower back, holding you to him.

His taste intoxicated you, and in seconds he became the addiction you knew you would never be able to break. He felt the same. He knew he would never be the same, in that moment you became his air.

A hissing sound broke you apart, and the pair of you looked around. You were still alone, and there were no obvious signs of where the noise was coming from.

Until the sprinklers started, the cold mist spraying over both of you. You squealed, jumping in his grip and feeling him pull you in tight against his chest as the two of you cried out.

He was the first to laugh, and you followed close behind. You had met in the rain, it was only right that you confessed your love for each other the same way, even if the rain wasn't real.

'My shoes!' you cried out, looking behind you to where your heels glinted under the haze of mist.

'I got it!' he told you, releasing you and running through the brunt of the spray. You couldn't help but laugh as his hair deflated while he scrambled across the slick grass, grabbing for the shoes.

He scooped them up and turned to run back to you, but you had other plans. Instead, as he turned, he crashed into your drenched form and his arms wrapped around you again.

Your lips crashed to his, putting all the feeling you had been holding back for years into the kiss. He kissed you just as passionately, and both of you giggled as the water soaked you both to the bone.

'When I said you're everything to me, I meant it,' he told you, his forehead resting on yours as he smiled at you.

'I wish I had said something before you left,' you said, letting him sway you gently.

'So do I. But, we're here now, and that's all that matters.'

'We should probably go and clean ourselves up though. My mom will kill me if I catch a cold from running around in the sprinklers.'

Noah chuckled, kissing you again before finally releasing you. He took your hand, leading you through the water and over to the car.

'I'll meet you at home? I have to take mom's car back.'

'Okay, but after that, I have somewhere I wanna take you, if you're up for it?'

You agreed, parting with a kiss and practically floating back to your mom's car.

The drive home was agonising, and the lights were all off when you got there. Your mom had gone to bed, expecting you to be out late. You entered the house quietly, tiptoeing across the tiles.

You left the keys on the kitchen counter, grabbing a change of clothes from a basket in the laundry and the two towels from all those years ago. They didn't seem as big or as fluffy anymore, but your mom had embroidered your names into them for you. She knew an origin story when she saw one, and she was sentimental, so naturally, she took it upon herself to hold onto memories for you.

You met Noah outside, clambering into his car and handing him the towel. He grinned like a little kid when he saw it, remembering everything with you.

He wrapped the towel around his shoulders before setting off. The whole drive, all you did was talk. He told you about the demo, you told him about work and school, everything felt so normal. Normal, except for the buzz of adrenaline in the pit of your stomach, the cool rush that you felt every time he took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles.

After a while, he pulled into the parking lot of a hotel, grinning as he turned the car off.

'I figured that most people have some kind of after-party, why shouldn't we have our own?' He said, a sheepish grin on his face.

You laughed, shaking your head at him. He lead you from the car and through the hotel, the two of you looking dreadfully out of place in the gilded lobby in your drenched clothes and fuzzy towels. The concierge even giggled quietly as she watched you get in the elevator.

The room itself was fancier than any hotel you'd ever stayed in, and you wondered how he paid for it. You didn't ask, deciding to just enjoy it. As soon as the door closed, Noah tugged you close to him again, gazing down into his eyes with the sweetest smile on his face. If he kept looking at you like that, you knew you could die happy.

'Say it again?' You asked him quietly, your lips hovering just in front of his.

With a soft chuckle, he happily obliged. 'I love you, Y/N.'

'I love you,' you whispered, letting the space between you disappear again.

He was gentle when he stripped the dress off of you, draping it over a chair to let it dry. You were just as gentle about unbuttoning his vest and his shirt. Together you found your way to the shower, letting the warm water erase the chill from your bones.

Being naked in front of him felt strange, but his tender kisses made it easier. For a while, you stood under the water, wrapped in his embrace. Your head tucked perfectly under his chin, and every now and again he would nose into your hair, leaving feather-light kisses on the skin of your neck. If the water hadn't gone cold, you might have stayed there forever.

He wrapped you in your towel before finding his own. Your heart pounded as you watched him, looking over his growing collection of tattoos and the scars on his back. He caught you watching, and stepped closer to you with a look in his eye.

He reached for you, his fingers running over the scars on your bicep. Together, you were beautifully broken, and together you could build a whole new type of perfect. As you stepped into his embrace, you felt safe. You felt loved. You felt whole.

You were the one who lead him to the bedroom.

He was just as nervous, and both of you giggled as the towels came off. Neither of you had done this before, but it felt right to be doing it with each other.

You paid heed to your mother's warning, thankful to be on the pill, and you were sure you were ready.

He laid you down on the bed, and Noah positioned himself between your legs, slowly pushing himself into you, groaning as he felt your body accept him.

You breathed through the feeling, a sting burning through you as he froze in place and waited for your signal.

'You okay?' He asked as he saw your face screw up in discomfort.

'Mhmm,' you hummed, 'just getting used to it.'

'For what it's worth, you feel so much better than I ever imagined,' he breathed, kissing your collarbone and up your neck. His words reverberated through you, making you clench around him.

He smirked, taking your face in his hand. 'You like dirty talk?' He asked, surprised and fascinated to learn about what turned you on.

'A little,' you admitted as you held his bicep.

'So if I said something like...' he smirked, dipping low and hovering his lips just next to your ear, his voice barely a whisper, 'you're mine. Only mine. This pussy? It's mine, and I won't stop until you're out of breath and the neighbours know my name.'

He grinned, sucking in a sharp breath and feeling your muscles contract around him, lusciously squeezing him.

'You're so tight, baby, and so wet. Is this all because of me?'

You couldn't help the soft moan as he spoke, beginning to roll his hips against you. The feeling was heavenly despite the stretching feeling. You'd been warned that the first time could hurt, and it was easily bearable.

'Noah,' you whimpered, running your fingers across his skin.

'Does it feel good, baby? God, you feel so good,' he continued, rutting into you slowly. His thrusts were firm, exploring deeper than you'd ever been able to with your fingers.

You dragged his face back to yours, kissing him deeply. Noah happily followed your lead, letting you swipe your tongue over his as you moaned into his mouth.

'Fuck,' you hissed, your back arching. You wanted more, but you were too scared to show him what you needed. You didn't want him to feel inadequate, or think he was doing something wrong, but your clitoris screamed for attention. Your hand kept inching lower, but you couldn't help the anxiety in your stomach.

'Tell me, baby,' he purred, always able to read you. 'Show me.' He took your hand, guiding it between your bodies and resting his fingers atop yours.

You began to draw timid circles over the little nub, feeling Noah trace your movements to learn how you liked it.

You whined his name, and you felt his dick twitch inside you.

'Noah, please,' you begged, 'I think I'm close.'

'Me too, Y/N,' he panted, his cheeks red and his forehead slick with sweat. 'I want to watch you come. I wanna see how good I can be to you.'

The tingles started small, but the more you circled your clitoris, the stronger it became. Whines and groans left your lips, Noah mirroring the sounds.

His gasps were almost enough to have you, but what broke you was the way he said your name. His breathy cries for you as he sped up and reached his peak, sighing and closing his eyes while your body tensed around his.

He emptied himself into you, and you eked it out of him. You'd heard that it was rare to experience an orgasm during your first time, let alone a mutual one, but it happened, and it was so much better than using your fingers.

Noah laid on top of you, breathless. His eyes fluttered closed while he gasped for air, his panting tickling your nipple as he laid his head on your chest.

'I love you,' he told you between deep lungfuls of air.

'I love you,' you repeated, grinning and exhausted, running your fingers through his still wet hair.

If only that night could have lasted forever.

Fate was cruel like that. Fate, and Sumerian Records.

Man vs Self, then called CHLDRN got signed, becoming Bad Omens... You were ecstatic, celebrating with him and Nick and Vincent. Part of you was less thrilled, knowing this meant he would be gone again.

He promised you it wouldn't be for long, only a few weeks at a time. You believed him. But weeks didn't stay weeks.

Weeks became months, and months became moving to LA.

He promised you that he would come home and visit. He swore to you that he would pay to fly you out and you could stay with him. He would text you every day and call you every night, telling you how much he missed you and how much he loved you.

No matter how much you wanted it to be, nightly phone calls and texting weren't enough. Every time it rained, your heart ached for him. You missed his touch, his embrace.

And then the contact started to wane. You would lie awake, waiting for him to call or text you after a show, and some nights he would, but those nights grew further apart.

You would text him first, and you'd be left with no answer.

Your mom watched your heart break in real time. She understood the pain, and she missed Noah too. She felt like she had lost her son. She did all she could to help you cope, but you just felt hollow, like barely a shell of yourself.

Every now and again you would hear from him, and it would tear open that wound again. Finally, you had to call it what it was.

Dead.

You called him, knowing that this phone call would be the hardest call you'd ever had to make. You told him that no matter how much you loved him, you couldn't handle the heartache. His home wasn't with you anymore, and you couldn't have a home with him. Not right now.

He begged you to reconsider. He told you he'd throw it all away for you. You told him he was being stupid, and that he would never throw it all away, and if he did, he'd miss it too much. He'd regret it. Sure, the words sounded pretty, but he would never be able to walk away. Not fully. Nor would you ever want him to.

You told him that he was too talented and too good to walk away. He needed to stick with the band. So he did. And he hated it for a while. He wrote songs about how much he hated it, but none of those ever made the albums.

Well, one did.

It was embellished, sure, but you knew which lines were about you. And you hoped against hope that no matter how much he wanted to, that he wasn't watching you from afar. You knew his heart couldn't take that strain. He'd already been through so much. He needed to move on and live for himself now.

You found yourself in the tree one night, wishing he would be okay. You never wished for yourself anymore, but any wish you could make for him, he had it. Success, stability, love, you wanted it all for him. You could make do on your own.

So you did. It killed you when his name came up on your socials, seeing the articles about the band, and about him. You missed him more than anything. But you forced yourself to continue on with your life. The ADHD medication made it easier to function, so when you decided to go to university, you managed it a lot easier than you thought you would.

There were still nights that you wished he was there to read the questions to you. Or nights that you broke down in tears because the pressure was too much. Every time you reached the end of that rope, you remembered your promise to him, and you stepped away from the medicine cabinet.

Noah came to town once. His long hair had been cropped short, and his once spindly build had filled out. You thought about going to the show, but you couldn't bring yourself to go. Your mom even asked if you should go together, but you told her that if you did you'd only have to start the healing process over again. She was understanding, but you knew she wanted to go. She missed him too, after all.

More time passed, whizzing by in a blur of study, work, and long nights. Your mom watched your heart heal and break again every time his name was mentioned on the radio or in a news article.

One night, she sat you down on the couch like she had that night she gave you the "talk". Her skin had begun to sag, and her hair was greying, but you still saw the same look in her eye. That knowing look, the one that knew all your secrets.

'Y/N, honey, you've got to do something. You're not getting over him,' she told you. 'It's been almost two years.'

'I know,' you told her pathetically, curling into her side like a child. She rubbed your arm, comforting you.

'I have an idea that I wanted to run by you,' she said, her tone soft and warm. 'I'm almost ready to retire, and I think I want to retire somewhere sunny. I like the rain, but I'm ready for something new...'

You looked at her, an eyebrow cocked as you caught that mischeivous smirk on her lips.

'Mom...' you said slowly.

'I found a nice house, and with what this place is worth, we could easily afford it if we sell. You're almost finished with school, and there's plenty of job options for you-'

'And you want to move to LA?' you asked her incredulously, sitting up and searching her face for a hint of a joke. You found none. She was completely serious. 'Mom, this isn't some small move down the street, you're talking about moving across the country.'

She nodded, laughing at you. 'I know, sweetheart. But I mean it. I want something new, I've lived in this house for too long. I know it's your home, but once upon a time, it was mine and your father's. We bought it shortly after we got married, and there are days that I still expect to see him sitting on the couch when I get home from work. I still feel like he's here, even though he's been gone for so long. I need to move on from him, and I don't think I can do that here.'

You chewed your lip, looking at your hands. Sometimes it was easy to forget that your mom was a person too. She had her own life, her own story, her own feelings. It had been a long time since your dad left, and it was easy enough to forget that your mom had spent nearly twenty years with him. He was her Noah. Sure, in the end, he turned out to be an uncaring ass, but there had to be something there that she'd loved in the start, and now she couldn't let go of it. Just like you couldn't let go of Noah.

'Okay,' you told her. 'Show me this house?'

She did. She showed you the house, and it was perfect. A quaint little three bedroom townhouse in a quiet community, a thirty minute drive from the city. You fell in love with it the minute you saw it.

Things moved quickly after that night. Your mom put the house on the market, and when you weren't working or studying, you were packing. You found so many memories as you boxed up everything you owned. It didn't take long for the house to sell. It wasn't until the sold sign adorned your front yard that it finally sank in.

You were saying goodbye to your childhood.

The place looked strange without all your things in it. You remembered all of the nights you spent with Noah in your room, whispering about stupid things to make each other laugh. You remembered the sound of his guitar drifting from the room that was once his, even though he almost never slept in there. You had to patch the hole in the wall from when you had tried to slide down the hall in your socks and you slipped, coming crashing down through the plaster.

You remembered sitting around the dinner table, telling your dad about the picture you had drawn at school that day. Or showing off how much better your grades had gotten since Noah started to help you with your homework.

Most painful of all, you had to say goodbye to the tree.

For old times sake, you hauled yourself up into its branches, searching for the carving of your names on the trunk. You had labelled your branches, but after the night in the hotel, Noah joined your names in a heart on the trunk where the two branches met.

For the last time, you made a wish. You weren't sure you believed in it anymore, but that childish wonder in your heart refused to let go of the possibility. You whispered your wish, letting it go with the wind that rustled the leaves.

And then the frenzy began. The movers took all the boxes, packing them into a huge truck with all your furniture, and you got in the car. You told your mom to fly ahead, not wanting her to drive across the country. She was too easily worn out for such an adventure, and there was too much to do, you needed her to save her energy for unpacking and setting up.

So you drove across the country alone, just you and your mom's car. You sold the beater you had bought with your money from the record store. It wasn't going to make the trip, and you could find something better when you had a new job.

You stopped at motels, sleeping more fitfully the closer you got to LA. Your mind spun with possibilities. What would you do? Would you call him? Text him? Would you even reach out?

What if he had a new girlfriend? What if he hated you for ending things? What if he wasn't your Noah anymore?

Each night you tossed and turned, and each day you tried desperately to drown out the noise in your mind with music and podcasts. Finally, after nearly a week of non-stop driving and gas station sandwiches, you reached the exit for Los Angeles. Your new home.

You followed the GPS to your new house, seeing your mom outside with the moving truck. She was helping to take boxes into the house, even though the movers brought the couch in first for her to sit down. She insisted on helping, but that was what your mom was like.

You parked on the street, getting out of the car and stretching your weary legs. Who would have thought sitting still for so long would be so exhausting. The sun had started to dip in the sky, bathing the street in a warm golden glow. You took in your new surroundings for a moment, noting the difference in the smell of the air, the warm breeze, and the lack of trees. There were only a few trees in the street, most of them small. One house had a large tree in the front yard, and it reminded you of the wishing tree. Smiling to yourself, you were glad something felt like home.

Your mom had told the movers to put your bed in first, which you were thankful for. You made your way to your new room, stretching out on the unmade mattress and letting your spine decompress for a little while.

It took a couple of weeks to set up the house how you wanted it, and it took a few more weeks to find a job, but soon enough, you were an official LA working girl. You had a desk job, you paid stupid amounts of money to park fifteen minutes away from your office, and you thrived on coffee, but you were doing it. You were living.

You still hadn't called him. You wanted to, but fear got the better of you every time you typed in his number. Your thumb would hover over the green button for stupid amounts of time, and then you would lock your phone and put it down.

You never thought it would go the way it did.

You came home from work one cloudy afternoon, climbing out of your mom's car and heading to the mailbox. A cool breeze nipped at your arms while you sifted through the mail. While you sorted the bills from the junk, a large black pickup pulled into the street. It was the first time you had seen it move since you moved in. For the last month it had been stationary on a driveway a few doors down.

It crawled past your house, slowing down as it passed by. For a moment, you tensed, ready to run or fight, whatever you needed to do, but then it moved on. It rolled into the driveway you had become accustomed to seeing it at, the house with the large tree in the front yard.

The loud rumble of the engine ceased, and as you were about to turn and head inside, a voice called out to you.

'Y/N!?' the deep voice bellowed, echoing down the street.

You froze.

His footsteps approached, his sneakers pouding against the asphalt as he crossed the street and stepped closer.

'Y/N...' he breathed, stopping a few feet away from you.

You looked up at him with your heart in your throat. His hair was still short, but it had grown out since you last saw him. A hint of stubble graced his chin and his lip, making him look so much more grown up than the weedy little teenager you remembered from prom. And his muscles...

He truly was a man now.

'Noah,' you whispered, your voice gone as you stared at him in disbelief.

He seemed to be having the same problem, stammering as he inched closer to you. 'You're... you're here?' he asked, his tone bewildered, asking the how and why without the need to say them.

'Mom retired, she wanted to get away from the memories of dad,' you told him with a shrug. You could barely bring yourself to meet his eye. Your throat tightened as you got a glimpse of the warm brown that you had missed so much. 'She missed you too, I think that's why she came here.'

'I miss her too,' he said sadly, 'she was the only parent I really had.'

Bit by bit, he stepped closer, closing the distance between you.

'I'm sure she'd love to see you,' you offered quietly, 'if you're not busy?'

'I don't think I'm busy,' he told you, smirking. Your stomach backflipped, and your fingers itched to know his skin again.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. You knew you needed to rip the band-aid off and just say it.

As you finally blurted out the words, his voice melded with yours.

'I missed you,' you both said.

Pausing, you looked at each other. You finally met his eyes. In that warm gaze, you saw all the love you had seen when you were young. All the longing that you felt was mirrored in him. His cheeks flushed, and you became aware of the heat in your own face as the pair of you laughed.

'I'm sorry,' you told him, taking a step closer to him. He was within reach now, you could have easily brushed his hair from his eyes, or taken his hand.

'For what?' he asked, closing the distance further.

'For ending things. I thought it hurt to miss you when I had you, and then I didn't anymore... I've never felt so alone... I should have just waited-'

'No, Y/N, you did what you needed to. And it would have only gotten worse from there anyway. We didn't get a break for years. With or without you, I never would have seen you.'

He lifted his hand to rest on the bare skin of your arm, admiring the tattoo that covered the scars on your bicep. Your body tingled under his touch, your resolve weakening.

'I'm glad to see that chapter is closed,' he said softly. 'It is, right?'

'Yeah,' you assured him. 'I got close a few times, but I remembered what I promised you and I just couldn't.'

'Good,' he breathed.

You were so close now, his head tilted down to look at you, and you could almost feel his breath on your skin. A cool breeze blew over you, making you shiver. The sound of thunder rolled across the sky, and you couldn't help but laugh as a heavy raindrop smacked on his head, making him flinch.

'Why is it that every time we find each other, it rains?' you mused, grinning up at him.

'Or there's sprinklers?' He added with a smirk.

As the rain fell in slow, fat drops dotting the sidewalk, you felt your heart twist. His hand moved, raising to your cheek. Your eyes welled up, too many emotions filling you.

'I never stopped loving you,' he told you. 'I missed you, and I thought about you every single day.'

'So did I,' you admitted. 'I couldn't stop.'

'And now, here you are...' he said.

'Here we are.'

His lips finally touched yours, and thunder cracked overhead. The sky opened, the rain falling faster, masking the tears on your cheeks as you melted into him. In a matter of moments you were drenched, but you didn't care.

'Never let me go again,' he begged you between heated kisses.

'Never.'

Your arms wrapped around his neck, holding him to you. Your hearts pounded against each other's as your chests pressed together. There wasn't enough of him, you needed everything he could give you. You wanted to wrap yourself in him and never let go.

When the thunder seemed to be overhead, he released you, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the front doorstep of your house. His beautiful smile set something in you alight, a fire you thought you had lost a long time ago.

He rang the doorbell, holding you close to his side, his fingers laced tight in yours. After a moment, your mom appeared at the door with a broad grin and the two towels in her hands.

'It's about time,' she said, handing the large fluffy towels over to you, ensuring you each had the towel with your own name embroidered on it.

'You were watching out the window, weren't you?' you asked her with a laugh.

'You were taking forever to get the mail, I was curious,' she told you innocently, 'but Noah? It is so good to see you, honey.'

She opened her arms to him, asking him for a hug. Noah hesitated for a moment, looking down at his sopping clothes.

'Honey, it's water, get over here,' your mom demanded, pulling him into a tight hug. Noah grinned, revelling in her hug. He was home. You could see it on his face, tears pricking at his eyes as he squeezed her tight. He was finally home.

Noah stayed the night with you, having missed your mom's home-cooked meals and sharing a bed with you. He texted his housemates, telling them that he would be with you. Nick was excited to hear that you had moved out to LA, and you had to promise that the three of you would hang out together soon, but for the moment, all you wanted was Noah.

You spent the night tangled up in him, your legs entwined while he cradled you close to his chest. Every now and then he would kiss you wherever he could reach, often on the forehead or on your lips.

You giggled together in the dark, listening to the storm outside and reminiscing on all the nights you'd spent huddled under the covers back in Richmond.

'I love you,' he whispered to you as you both drifted closer to sleep.

'I love you too,' you told him, brushing your fingers across his cheek and smiling tiredly.

In the morning, your mom handed him a key as you sat down at the table with your coffee. She told him that he always had a home with the two of you. He tried to hide it, but you saw him getting misty eyed as he hugged your mom.

You had to leave for work, but Noah was free to sit and catch up with your mom. You left them together, smiling at the scene as you said your goodbyes.

Noah rushed after you, chasing you to the car with a smitten grin.

'Hey,' he called out, holding the car door open, 'you forgot something.'

'Oh?' you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He leaned into the car and kissed you, not caring that some of your lipstick was on his face now.

'I love you,' he said with a smile, 'okay, now you can go.'

This became a routine. As long as he was in town, the two of you shared a bed. Sometimes you slept in his, but most of the time you slept in yours. He would kiss you goodbye every morning as you left for work, and if he wasn't in town he would send you some kind of message.

The distance became bearable now that he would always come home. You missed him while he was on tour, but at least he would end up back with you at the end of it all instead of on the other side of the country.

It took some getting used to, but you adjusted.

Months passed, and there came a day when you were both free. He was excited, wanting to take you out somewhere, just the two of you. You agreed, seeing him so happy there was no way you could tell him no.

In his black pickup, you drove to the outskirts of town. He wouldn't tell you where you were going. You let him lead the way, trusting him.

He pulled up and parked the car, finally letting you see where you were. He'd taken you to a forest trail. For a minute, you didn't understand, but you let him guide you. He lead you down the trail and to a little clearing where you saw it.

A tree, just like the wishing tree back home.

You couldn't hide the smile on your face. He raced with you to the tree, both of you dragging yourself up through the unfamiliar limbs and branches. Noah had to help you a few times, pulling you up to a higher branch that you could sit on together.

And as you sat, you found yourselves grinning like little kids.

'I figured a little bit of home was a good thing,' he told you, taking your hand. 'But my home is wherever you are.'

'Noah,' you giggled, leaning into him and shoving him gently with your shoulder.

'I'm serious!' he told you, his eyes crinkling with his laughter. You loved the sound, never tiring of his voice. He could read a dictionary out loud and you would listen to him happily.

'How did you even find this?' you asked him, letting him hold you steady on the branch.

'I used to go hiking during quarantine. It was all I was allowed to do, and it got me out of the house for a while.'

You nodded in understanding. Those years had been insane.

'But, there's a reason I wanted to bring you here,' he said nervously. You shifted, turning to face him and swinging your leg over the branch to straddle it. Noah mimicked your movements, your knees touching each other's as he took your hands in the space between you.

You searched his face, seeing a hint of fear in his eyes. Your throat wanted to close at the sight, but you forced yourself to breath through it, squeezing his hands reassuringly.

'I know it hasn't been long since we found each other again, but I don't ever want to lose you again,' he said, sucking in a deep, shaky breath. 'I wish I had told you earlier than I did, I wish we could have spent more time like this. I loved you before I knew what it meant to love someone. You helped me when no one would, and you never wanted anything from me but a friend. I don't know where I'd be without you, but I wouldn't be here.'

As he spoke, your eyes began to water. Your fingers tangled tighter into his, your heart twisting in your chest.

'I don't want us to ever go through what we went through ever again. I want to always be with you, to look after you. I want to kiss you good morning every day, and I want to be the last thing you see when you go to sleep. I want to bring you coffee, and read your books to you, and run through sprinklers with you. My world starts and ends with you, and I want to be there while you build your world into whatever you want it to be. And I hope that whatever that is, it includes me...'

He released your hand, sliding his fingers into his pocket and retrieving something. A deep red velvet box. He opened it and turned it to you, holding it carefully in the palm of his hand.

'Y/N, I love you, more than anything. I wanted to do this in our tree, but this is the closest I could get us,' he chuckled, smiling nervously and looking at the box in his hand. The ring glittered under the light spilling through the canopy of leaves above you. 'Marry me? Please?'

You couldn't find words. Your body was a cacophony of emotion, tears spilling down your cheeks while your heart pounded in your chest.

'Noah,' you whispered, testing your voice. You could see how nervous he was, and you wanted to put him out of his misery. You nodded, smiling back at him. 'Absolutely. I will absolutely marry you.'

He couldn't get the ring on your finger fast enough. He couldn't kiss you hard enough, or hold you close enough. The pair of you were an emotional wreck, smiling and laughing while tears spilled down both of your cheeks.

Before you left the tree, Noah carved your names into the branch, scrawling a date under it. He helped you get down, and he caught you as you lowered yourself from the last branch, spinning you in a circle and kissing you fiercely.

'I love you,' he said, 'and I'm gonna say it until you hate it.'

'I could never hate it,' you told him, your arms tight around his neck.

When you got home, your mom was thrilled. She couldn't be more excited, demanding to see the ring and telling Noah it was about time. She immediately launched into wedding planning, promising to finance whatever you needed. She was overjoyed to have Noah be a part of the family on paper.

She helped you over the next few months while you picked dates and guests and everything there is to do with a wedding. You debated on inviting your father, but decided against it. He had never been warm to Noah, he didn't need to be a part of this celebration.

Noah had to travel a little bit while all this was happening, but it gave you plenty of chances to find a dress. And he would call every night wanting to know what you and your mom had found or planned.

You weren't sure who was more excited, you or Noah.

And as the days passed, the day finally came.

You walked down the aisle with your mom, surrounded by friends and family, but the only person who mattered to you waited at the end of the aisle with the biggest smile on his face and a glimmer in his warm brown eyes.

He took your hand and held it tight, silently swearing to never let it go. You swore the same. It had always been the two of you (and your mom) against the world, but now you got to declare it in front of everyone.

What you weren't prepared for were Noah's vows.

'Y/N,' he began, 'our history has been a long road of ups and downs. We've known each other longer than I've known anyone else. And I can't think of anyone else I'd rather take on the world with. You have always been my rock, my biggest supporter, and my best friend. You came into my life when I needed someone like you, and I know I was mean to you, but I was embarrassed.

'I was embarrassed because I had seen you in that tree making wishes. I wondered if maybe it was magic, because it always seemed to work for you. I never told you what I wished for that day, but I think by now you've earned the right to know.' He paused, squeezing your fingers and lifting them to his lips, his eyes glistening with tears as he cleared his throat. 'I wished for someone to love me. And not a minute later, there you were, wanting to wish for a pass on your science test. But you offered to wish for something for me, caring about me from the minute we met. I got my wish.'

'But, as I got older, I learned something. The tree wasn't where the magic came from,' he said, smiling at you, losing himself in your gaze. 'The magic was you. You granted every single wish, one way or another. You pushed me to be better, to succeed. You gave me everything you could. You protected me when I couldn't protect myself, you gave me a home when I had nothing, and you loved me when I couldn't love myself. So here I am, vowing to you, that I will always, always, protect you. I will love you when you can't, and I will give you everything I can, and I will always be your home. I vow to keep your magic alive, and to grant every wish for you that I possibly can, because you gave me all of mine.'

You knew he was good with words, but he had you there. By the end of his speech, you were a mess of tears, your own vows forgotten. You wanted nothing more than to throw yourself at him and never let him go.

When you were finally pronounced man and wife, you met Noah with the deepest kiss you could, pressing your body into his and wanting to hold your breath forever so you could stay locked in his lips.

Your guests cheered and wolf-whistled, and Noah dipped you, giving them a show. When the need for air overcame you, you grinned up at him, hanging on to him tightly.

'I've got you,' he assured you.

'And I've got you,' you smiled back up at him.

He spun you back onto your feet, holding you to him as you left the ceremony together. You had to go and take pictures, but you really just wanted a moment alone together.

You lead Noah to the room where you had been getting ready before the ceremony started, closing the door.

'Are you okay?' he asked you, taking your hand. You nodded, thumbing over the band that adorned his left hand now.

'Yeah,' you told him, swallowing hard. 'You just blindsided me a little.'

'I'm sorry-'

'Don't be. Noah, I am so sorry for what you went through, but also I am so thankful that out of all the places it could have lead you, it lead you to me. And I am so thankful that I get to be the one to love you.'

'So am I,' he told you, stepping closer until your chests pressed together. 'I meant it, you're everything to me.'

'And you're everything to me.'

The reception was filled with celebration, jokes, cheering, speeches, and some very unfortunate dancing. And naturally, at the end of the night, LA was subjected to a massive thunderstorm. Your guests hid inside, but you and Noah ran out into the rain, knowing you couldn't break tradition now. The pictures ended up immortalised in your photo album, displayed on the mantle in the house the two of you bought shortly after your honeymoon.

You got lucky, you managed to find a house just a few blocks from your mom. The house had a big yard, but it was missing something...

Noah came home from a tour with the answer a few months after you had settled in.

'I don't know if this is legal, and I have no idea how to do it, but we're gonna try,' he told you, opening a secure compartment in his suitcase and presenting you with a box.

It was an old amazon prime box, about as big as a shoebox, but as thick as a matchbox. You shot him a look, raising an eyebrow.

'Just open it,' he told you, rolling his eyes.

So you did.

A bundle of branches sat in the box, wrapped in wet paper towel.

'You went to Richmond?' you asked. He nodded.

'I did, and I brought some of the wishing tree home. If we do it right, we can have our own wishing tree, right here in our yard. It will take years to grow, but I can't see a reason not to.'

You smiled, shaking your head and placing the branches on the table.

'I love you,' you told him, looping your arms around his neck and kissing him.

'I love you more.'

Together, you propagated the branches, and you successfully planted a tree. And over the years, as that tree grew, the two of you grew. Your love grew, your family grew, your happiness grew. And one day, you and Noah will get to tell your daughter all about the wishing tree, and take her back to your wishing tree.

But for now, you and Noah get to watch her, seeing the magic you made together grow.

THE END.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #bad omens fanfic #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction

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sunkendreams · 1 year

Text

SIDELINES.

you haven’t seen jesse pinkman since high school — and he’s the last person you ever expected to connect with. however, times have changed — and so have you.

part 1. | part 2. | part 3. | part 4. | part 5.

༄ PAIRING. | jesse pinkman x [female] reader.

༄ FORMAT. | one-shot, multi-part — not requested.

༄ WORD COUNT. | 9.6K.

༄ WARNINGS. | drug use, references to substance use/addiction, past jane/jesse, emotional trauma/hurt, jesse’s internalized hatred/guilt, acquaintances to lovers, smoking, smut, smut with plot, making out, dirty talk, breast play, cunnilingus, hair pulling, bottom!jesse, riding, morning sex, aftercare.

༄ AUTHOR’S NOTE. | I don’t know where I’m getting these ideas, but I have a lot of projects in the works right now. Some are horror-related and some aren’t. Honestly, I’m just happy to be writing again no matter what the content is. Thank you guys for your continued support & love. I couldn’t do it without you all! Peace! ☺️

The scent of marijuana, pungent smoke, and a toxic amalgamation of sweat and AXE body spray wafted throughout the house, music jacked up so loud that it made your ears ring. You remained at your perch, stuffed along the wall of a stranger’s house while your friends got stoned in another room.

You were dragged to this party out of sheer loyalty to your friends and a boredom that outweighed anything else. Regret rippled through you, nose stinging from the foul smells that hung like a noxious haze in the living room. The drink you clutched within one hand was watered-down, tiny slivers of ice swirling around within the cup.

Some mediocre hip-hop song blasted throughout the house, bass loud enough to shake the very foundation — you were thoroughly surprised that the police hadn’t been called in for a noise complaint.

Grey wisps of smoke drifted in your direction, and you swatted at it with a wrinkled nose. It wasn’t your typical scene — the sort of party, at least. Partying was something you were accustomed to — harmless college parties with drinks and weed, but this was something else.

There were people snorting lines of cocaine off of a glass coffee table, and you swore that one person had passed out entirely in the kitchen. A strange sensation crawled across your flesh — a feeling that you weren’t exactly meant to be here. Your friends had driven you down here, but you were prepared to take your chances with walking home.

“Wanna hit?” A man asked you, gsze half-lidded, lips curled into a less than attractive smile. He propositioned you with a jerk of his head, motioning toward the thin line of fine, white powder sitting along the coffee table.

“No thanks.” You waved one hand in dismiss, weaving through the crowds to retrieve another drink. The kitchen was destroyed, ravaged by strangers with little respect for the home. Debris, trash, and the remnants of marijuana were everywhere. You nearly stepped on broken glass.

It felt like an out-of-body experience — as if you were simply a spectator, an observer who watched the chaos around you. You didn’t thrive or revel within it — you were indifferent. The vices of your friends differed greatly from your own, to quite an extreme degree.

As you watched the swarm of people, all huddled together within the living room, the air became stifling and stuffy, as if it threatened to suffocate you altogether. They reminded you of zombies — barely moving in one place, all drugged-out from whatever concoction of pills and illicit substances were available at this party.

You silently slipped outside, abandoning your drink somewhere on the windowsill as you stepped out into the cool night breeze. You inhaled, greedily drinking in the crisp freshness of dusk, hands roaming over your thin cardigan as you began to shuffle to the edge of the porch.

Moonlight pooled through the wispy clouds as they fluttered through the night — everything was so much quieter outside. The thumping of the bass had diminished, and the skunk-like scent had dissipated altogether.

The door opened behind you, a figure slinking out onto the porch a few feet away from you. “Hey.”

It was somewhat unfamiliar until you’d actually glanced over your shoulder, gaze landing upon a most familiar face — Jesse Pinkman. The two of you made eye contact; Jesse’s face blossomed with a subtle realization.

“Holy shit,” You let out a bark of a laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Jesse Pinkman, right? You went to J.P Wynne.” You hadn’t seen Jesse Pinkman since high school graduation — you distinctly remembered his social circle.

Jesse recognized you sometime during the midst of the party — a true wallflower, despite your popularity in junior high. It surprised him to see a girl like you at one of his drug-laden festivities, but then again, life was full of surprises. He looked tired, skin pale and eyes baggy as he leaned against one of the columns.

“Yeah,” Perusing his pockets, he fished out a cigarette, placing it between his lips. “You were one of the Honor Society members, right?” Jesse recalled your stellar academics and social standing — his polar opposite.

You made a face, keeping your arms folded across your abdomen. “Yeah.” Admittedly, Jesse wasn’t exactly someone you were friends with in high school. Cordial was a good word for it — your parents never would have allowed you to hang out with someone like him, anyway. “We were in Mr. White’s chemistry classes together.”

Upon mentioning Walter White, Jesse stiffened slightly, feigning innocence as he cracked a thin-lipped smile. “Jesus,” He exhaled, reaching for his lighter. “It’s been awhile.”

There was a prevalent exhaustion that hung within his eyes, a loneliness that almost felt tangible within that moment. He avoided eye contact with you at-times, hands fidgeting when you stepped closer.

“It has.” You paused, rubbing your palms across your arms. Despite the acrid heat that New Mexico produced during the day, the temperatures dropped drastically at night. You shivered, a delicate smile creeping across your features. “Did the party get a little boring for you, too?”

He’d forgotten about you a little bit — forgotten about just how beautiful you were. You’d only gotten prettier, too. Jesse felt the sting of sheepishness and inferiority that came with being around someone like you — a good person, someone with responsibilities and respectable morals. You weren’t a criminal — you hadn’t killed somebody.

Jesse almost felt as if he shouldn’t be speaking to you, but he pressed on. “I guess. Needed some air, you know?” He noticed your constant shivering, prompting him to remove the baggy, black jacket he wore. “You cold?” He asked, gesturing toward the garment he carried.

“Oh,” Warmth crept along your flesh, brows knitting together as you shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Jesse.” It was a thoughtful gesture, something you didn’t expect, but you were freezing and the dress wasn’t doing you any favors.

“Nah, go ahead. Might smell like cigarettes, though.” Jesse forewarned, tucking one hand underneath his arm. The long-sleeved Henley he wore was more than enough for him.

You thanked him, slipping into his hooded zip-up. He wasn’t exactly incorrect — it did smell of cigarette smoke intermingled with the cologne he wore. You didn’t mind, though.

Silence drifted between the two of you, awkward enough to make you uncomfortable as you fished around for your cellphone. Minutes ticked by without a word. Jesse appeared to be a little nervous, and you wondered if it had anything to do with you.

There was a string of texts from your friends inquiring about your whereabouts. It was a little after ten o’clock, and you fully intended on walking home. “It was nice seeing you, Jesse. I hope you’re doing well.” You cleared your throat. “I’m going to head home.”

Jesse opened his mouth to speak, lips fumbling around the unlit cigarette. Surely, you didn’t want to talk to him — Christ, he was practically a stranger. It felt cruel of him not to offer to give you a ride home, or something like that.

“Hey, uh,” Jesse cleared his throat, clamoring after you. “I can give you a ride home. Could be stalkers or crazy people around.” His reasoning was weak, but it seemed to resonate with you, oddly enough. He felt strange — he barely knew you outside of what he perceived in high school.

You knew that Jesse had gotten in trouble with the law in school — everyone knew. Gossip was prevalent at J.P Wynne. Part of you screamed to refuse, to politely decline and endure the lengthy trek home, but a sliver of you wanted to accept, to indulge in your curiosity.

Jesse had always been kind to you in the very rare, occasional interaction you’d had with him. He hadn’t given you any reason not to trust him. It was a nice change of company — refreshing, almost. There was a clean slate between the two of you.

Your shoulders slouched and sluggishly lifted in a weak shrug as you rubbed your hands together. “You don’t mind? It’s on Nauman Drive, past downtown.” A decent drive, for sure — a half an hour or more. You expected him to reject you given the distance.

“Nauman?” It was a nice area, he knew that much. “Yeah, I don’t mind. You care if I smoke?” Jesse inquired, gesturing around toward the garage. He didn’t care about the house — it almost seemed to fade away into the background. He needed a break, time to think.

“Go ahead.” You trailed after Jesse, following him toward the paved stretch of driveway. A 1984 Toyota Tercel sat, red paint beginning to fade and show signs of weathering. It was beat-up, but certainly held a bit of rugged appeal.

Jesse awkwardly shuffled to open the passenger door, and you thanked him, sinking down into the felt seats. The car smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap air fresheners, but it was tidy and clean inside. You placed your purse down onto the floorboard in front of you.

Blowing a pillar of smoke into the air, Jesse hastily finished his cigarette, fingers beginning to quiver as he opened the driver’s side. He hadn’t really spent time with a girl since Jane — but you didn’t remind him of her whatsoever. There were many qualities you possessed that certainly contrasted from her, not that it was a bad thing.

“Do you live here?” You asked, head canting to one side. There were other cars scattered around the block and parked on the street, but his happened to be the only vehicle in the driveway.

“Uh,” Jesse glanced at you, absentmindedly wetting his lower lip. “Yeah, I do.” He turned the key forward, car rumbling and puffing to life. “Bought the house months ago — used to be my Aunt’s.” He clarified, wondering if you would ask about the obscene amount of drugs.

“You don’t think it’ll burn down while you’re gone?” You questioned, lips twitching into a thin smile as you rolled down the passenger window, letting your elbow rest up against the ledge.

Jesse let out a huff of laughter, and shrugged his shoulders. He began to back up, rolling out onto the empty roads. “It’s been through worse shit.” His wry statement only made your smile flicker again, but he vehemently focused on driving instead.

You felt the barrier melt a bit at that — it was comforting to know that the two of you didn’t have to behave like complete strangers. Silence simmered again, settling between the both of you as he concentrated on finding something on the radio. It served as suitable background noise.

“What are you doing nowadays?” You avoided the topic of the party — it wasn’t worth mentioning. A cool breeze whipped through the car as he began to drive, causing goosebumps to prickle along your shoulders.

“I don’t know,” Jesse confessed, cerulean hues flickering in your direction. “Drifting, I guess.” It was the first time where he’d revealed a sliver of his true feelings. The parties were a worthwhile distraction — soulless events where he could find solace in all of the chaos surrounding him. “Shit, it’s a long story.” His laughter was shaky.

“You don’t have to do a full confession, Jesse.” You reassured, playfully prodding at your cardigan. “I’m not wearing a wire.” With a gentle exhale, your tone softened as he pulled out onto the highway. It was almost soothing — driving back home with somebody you never expected to see again.

Jesse laughed at that, running a hand across his disheveled hair, and then planting it against the back of his neck. The support groups he’d been attending didn’t work — there was no comfort he’d been able to find.

Everything felt like some massive distraction from the root of the problem — the residual pain he was dealing with from Jane, from Gale. His heart hammered within his chest, and he looked at you again. Oddly enough, your nonchalant behavior and lack of judgment would’ve been enough for him to spill in a different setting.

“Hey, what about you? What are you doing these days?” Jesse immediately shifted the focus away from him. He was far more interested in what you had to say than his own life. Besides, it would pull him out of his own head for a little while.

The inquiry was unexpected but not unwelcome, causing you to adjust yourself within the passenger seat. “Oh,” You cleared your throat. “I’m in college at the University of New Mexico. I’m still trying to figure out what I’d like to study — getting basics out of the way. I work at a cafe.”

Normal, uneventful, peaceful — Jesse envied you.

You were achieving something mundane yet safe, something that he wished he would’ve done long ago. Maybe things wouldn’t have happened in the way that they did. His countenance became a touch forlorn, but it wasn’t the time to become mournful over the past. He couldn’t go back, not anymore.

“Yeah, that’s …” He nodded, attempting to conjure the right words to say. “That’s good, really good. You know you could do anything you wanted. You were always really smart and shit.” Jesse replied, gaze hyperfocused upon the road as headlights raced past.

You could detect that Jesse was holding something back — that minuscule flicker of pain had crossed over his visage before being forced to dissipate. Your eyebrows furrowed together, and you reached over, gently prodding at his shoulder.

“Hey,” You began, tone laced with concern. “Are you okay?”

Jesse felt his heart constrict within his chest, wisps of air stolen from his lungs. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked that — and genuinely meant it. It wasn’t out of obligation, that was easy to tell. He felt his throat grow thick, but he staved off any tears.

“Yeah.” It was a blatant lie, spoken through a clenched jaw. He nearly winced when you touched his shoulder, feeling as if he were souring the mood entirely. “Just, uh … You know, going to therapy and rehab right now. It’s been tough.” A very threadbare half-truth, but it was enough to placate you.

“Oh.” A warmth crept into your voice as you withdrew, countenance softening as you sank back into the passenger seat. “That’s understandable, Jesse. I’m sorry.” You replied, tucking strands of hair behind your ear as you looked out the window again.

Albuquerque was a sprawling city, and as the two of you neared the nicer end, Jesse knew that Nauman was only ten minutes away. He didn’t want to go back to the party anymore — but it might’ve been the best option. If he stayed with you, he knew the pain it would cause. He feared losing people — it was present all the time, a nagging dread that never stopped.

“Don’t be sorry,” Jesse interjected, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. “Did that shit to myself, you know?” Addiction was behind him. He rarely participated anymore — he was just a silent observer, fueling everyone else’s vices while he withered away. What kind of a life was that?

You canted your head to one side, lips parting slightly as you spoke. “Jesse, that’s not entirely your fault. You can’t blame yourself for your environment or circumstances out of your control.” You were right — but he made the choice to shoot Gale, and he made the choice to shoot up with Jane before she died.

He was silent, feeling the sensation of tears swimming within his gaze. Jesse didn’t want to even remotely consider crying in front of you — he barely knew you. Instead, he focused on the road, taking the exit towards Albuquerque Studios. Nauman wasn’t very far away.

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d had a conversation with someone else that was this raw and vulnerable. Jesse’s discomfort was palpable and very real to you, and you felt horrible. Your countenance glistened with concern, brows furrowing together.

After the exit, Jesse drove onto Nauman Drive. There were rows of beautiful, lavish houses and apartment complexes, ones that he probably could’ve bought with the dealing money. He was blowing it all away right now on drugs for the parties — he was beginning to ask himself ‘why?’

“My apartment is at the end of the drive.” Your voice had softened, hands planted within your lap as he followed your directions. It was a smaller apartment complex but much nicer, your driveway occupied by your vehicle.

Jesse pulled up along the curb — it was eerily silent, aside from the cacophony of crickets that provided a steady ambience, and the occasional bark of a dog. He put the car in park, still gripping the steering wheel. “You got a nice place.” He murmured, a halfhearted attempt to shift the conversation to something else.

“Hey,” After unbuckling your seatbelt, you leaned over the center console, palm resting over his hand, the one that was strangling the wheel of the car. “Why don’t you come inside? I can make you coffee or something and you can just space out for a little while. We don’t even have to talk.”

The offer was generous — admittedly, Jesse wondered if it would benefit him in any way. If he could just lay on your couch, decompress, let the emotion off of his chest. He didn’t care about the state of the house — he didn’t care about anybody at that party. What he did care about, however, was you, and how you made him feel.

It was as if the invisibility he’d been safely floating in for so long was shattered, but there was someone who could actually see him — see the veil he’d been maintaining for this whole time. His gaze finally flickered toward you, who appeared genuinely concerned for him.

You were good — truly good.

There wasn’t an ounce of maliciousness or an underlying agenda. You didn’t smoke, you hadn’t touched drugs, you were in college with a steady, normal job that never got you involved with the wrong people. Jesse knew what he’d be putting you through if he let this drag out for too long. If he fucked up, people could hurt you.

“Listen,” Jesse swallowed, palm planted against the back of his neck. “You’re really sweet, okay? You’re nice,” He wanted to word it in a way that wouldn’t hurt your feelings. “I just — I can’t. I’m not in a good spot right now. I don’t wanna drag you down with me.” That sounded fair, didn’t it?

You could accept that.

If it had something to do with the drugs, which you assumed that it was, then you understood that he was trying to protect you. You wanted to encourage him to try, but the last thing you wanted to do was pressure someone in a fragile state.

“Okay, Jesse.” You hesitated, pressing your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “I just want you to know that you're not alone. If you need someone, I’m here for you. I know that there was a wedge in high school, but I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t reconnect.” You shrugged, popping open the passenger side door.

As you stepped outside, you made sure to remove his jacket, draping it over the center console as you shut the door. Jesse didn’t say anything as you rounded the car — he was biting his finger, eyes squeezing shut as you made the short trek toward your front door. It felt like an eternity until you’d actually gotten inside.

Jesse exhaled, hands trembling as he hastily wiped away straggling tears that he’d been withholding during the span of the whole drive. Part of him knew that he could use a positive influence like you in his life, but the danger that lurked around him, the cloud of loss, he was afraid that you’d become lost in all of that, too.

The deliberation between going back to his house and biting the bullet to stay with you was a tedious process. He sat out in the car for a long time — he was surprised that you hadn’t come back outside asking why he was sitting there with his head pressed against the steering wheel.

When he finally made the choice to go up to your door, the walk felt like a lengthy, eternal drag. Jesse rocked forward, pressing his hands against his face as he composed himself. Back in high school, he was suave — much more of a charmer. Nowadays, he felt incompetent, but it was largely due to an amalgamation of nerves and drug use.

He knocked a few times, skin crawling with a nervous sensation, but there was something exciting about it, too. You were familiar yet new, a breath of fresh air that he desperately needed. Jesse watched as the door opened, and there you were.

“Hey, uh,” Jesse stuck his hands into his pockets, rocking back upon his heels. “Is the offer still on the table?” He’d ask, and your lips split into a gentle yet bemused smile.

“Of course.” You’d changed into your pajamas — a baggy, oversized graphic t-shirt and cotton shorts that were dwarfed by your top. “Did you want to watch a movie? I was about to start Watchmen.”

Jesse watched as you stepped aside to invite him in, closing the door behind him and latching the lock. You had a weird itch for security, especially at night. “Yeah, that sounds cool.” He replied, having a look around.

Your apartment was tidy and very cozy, with a rather comforting aesthetic and atmosphere. Jesse felt a little more relaxed, wandering around in the small living room. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the plush sofa, scattered with throw blankets and pillows.

As you prepared coffee, you wondered what changed his mind. It was a question that would likely nag at you until you asked. You understood being lonely — aside from the occasional hangout with your friends, you lived alone.

“Make yourself at home,” You chimed, weaving around the coffee table to place your steaming mugs down, settling into the couch. Jesse sat a comfortable distance away, arm slung over the back of the sofa. “What changed your mind?”

Your question caught him off-guard, but he wanted to be transparent with you. He owed you that much, especially after talking to him — after this, after everything. “I knew that I’d be miserable if I went back,” He shrugged. “I don’t wanna keep being miserable.” Loneliness also played a factor in this, but he didn’t really want to own up to it just yet.

“I understand,” You began, tucking one knee toward your chest as you played the movie. Admittedly, it served as better background noise than anything else. “I’m glad you came over.” Your lips split into a soft smile.

Jesse hesitated, glancing over at you as he stayed silent. He was most definitely drinking you in, gaze subtly raking you over as you took a sip of your coffee. For a moment, he envisioned this — getting close to you, hanging out with you, just getting to be himself, or as close as he could get again.

“I’m glad, too.” Jesse confessed, rubbing at the back of his head. He nearly shriveled at the eye contact you made with him, but he maintained it instead, lips twitching into a faint smile.

You nudged your drink back onto the wooden table, wordlessly slinking closer to Jesse until you were curled up beside him. The silence simmered with something else, perhaps a crackle of affection. Your gaze glistened with a peculiar softness, flickering between the movie and him.

Admittedly, this was the last thing Jesse expected — but that didn’t stop him from wanting it to happen. Once you initiated, he decided to meet you halfway, draping his arm around you, cheek pressed against the top of your head.

He’d been craving something like this for a while now. Jane left a void — a massive, gaping wound that he feared wouldn’t heal, but now? Maybe there was an end in sight — maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Jesse relaxed, sinking into you as you cuddled up with him.

Your hands intertwined, fingers brushing together until they joined. Just like Jesse, you were chasing after the sensation of touch, chasing after that feeling of fulfillment — no more loneliness. You’d been dealing with it for a long while, trying to manage the sea of emotions, and this was a nice break from that.

“I understand feeling miserable,” You murmured, head resting comfortably against his collarbone. “Sometimes it feels like you’re alone out on a raft, in the middle of the ocean.”

Jesse’s jaw tightened, but there was a mutual sense of empathy and understanding within your words. That was how he felt oftentimes — just himself, attempting to stay afloat. He didn’t say anything, but he did caress your knuckles with his thumb as a form of acknowledgment.

As the movie progressed, the two of you occasionally made small talk, but you were a little engrossed by the film, and so was he. It was comforting to just be near him — let him hold you, keep it light with gentle touches and whatnot.

It wasn’t until halfway through the movie that Jesse cleared his throat, glancing down at you with exhausted eyes. “Thanks for this,” He murmured, absentmindedly wetting his lower lip. “Would you wanna do it again? Like, uh … Hanging out, or something?” He was intent on cleaning up his place, now.

“Yeah,” You replied, twisting within his hold enough to peer up at him. “I would.” There was something special about this — perhaps a feeling of renewal, of starting something with someone you never expected. You had a feeling that Jesse needed a little bit of support, and you didn’t mind providing that.

“Shit,” Jesse breathed through a soft laugh, visibly bewildered yet pleased by your answer. “Okay.” He didn’t expect that from you — he didn’t expect anything, really.

The both of you were smiling, now. Watchmen dissipated into the background once more, simply serving as ambience as the two of you nestled together. “Okay.” You parroted, lips curling into a lopsided smile as Jesse gathered his bearings.

You had little time to fully comprehend his next actions — he moved inward, cerulean hues dropping from your face to your mouth. Everything about this screamed sudden and intense, but you didn’t care. He tasted like cigarette smoke and spearmint gum — he had a very sweet kiss.

Jesse inhaled, relaxing into you, careening right into the warmth of your body. Every fiber of his being felt electrified, and he became so incredibly nervous — he hadn’t done this since Jane. He didn’t want her death to tarnish the moment, but it was inevitable.

He pulled away, opening his mouth to speak, yet nothing emerged. Words turned to ash upon his tongue, dying then and there as he hung his head, fingers toying with yours.

It wasn’t difficult to tell that he was struggling with this — you didn’t want to pry, but you didn’t want him to feel obligated, either. “Hey,” You murmured, dragging one hand toward his face, fingertips grazing over his stubbled jaw. “What’s wrong?” It was written all over his countenance, this underlying sense of pain.

“Nothing, just …” Jesse shivered when your palm cupped his jaw, shamelessly leaning into the sensation you left behind from your hand. “I just don’t wanna leave.” It sounded so pathetic — he didn’t want to go back home to a drug-laden pit.

Your lips twitched into a faint smile. “Is that it?” You left it open-ended, attempting to stay on the side of not being invasive or pushy. You wanted him to be comfortable.

Jesse huffed, idly tracing the pad of his thumb across the delicate plane of your knuckles. “Nah,” He admitted, cerulean hues flickering toward your face. “Haven’t really done this in awhile.” Telling you the visceral, painful truth would’ve been too much for him, so he settled on something else, something superficial.

“What, kissing?” You teased, keeping it mellow and lighthearted before he shook his head. “If it’s any reassurance, I haven’t done anything, either. Don’t feel like it’s just you.” With a soft sigh, you watched as Jesse leaned back just an inch or two, head craned to rest against your couch.

There was something forlorn about him, a light aura of melancholy that swirled around his being. You didn’t want to ask, but you couldn’t help but wonder what happened. You were able to look past that — he was attractive. You’d always thought that he was handsome.

“You, uh … You mind if we do it again?” Jesse asked, head cocked to one side. He was some amalgamation of sheepishness and a suave charm, smile somewhat feeble as he held your hand.

“I don’t mind.” You replied, but before he could lean in again, you had something on your mind. “Jesse?”

Jesse stooped closer, forehead nearly pressed against yours. “Yeah?”

“Would it help if you stayed tonight?” Whatever was plaguing him, being alone around drugs was the last thing he needed. You didn’t mind him staying the night — you didn’t mind whatever came with that, too.

He remained silent for a few moments, and immediately felt as if he should say no — and against his own inner turmoil, he wanted to be with you. He didn’t care if the house was a mess or if it had been reduced to nothing — he’d rather stay here with you.

“I don’t wanna disturb the peace,” Jesse began, nose wrinkling slightly when you rolled your eyes. “I can crash on the couch.” Admittedly, that sliver of him that was desperate for affection also wanted to sleep with you, but it was only polite to keep his distance until you said otherwise.

“You’re not disturbing anything. Promise.” You reassured, fingers creeping toward the nape of his neck as you tilted forward. “I want you to stay.” You uttered, your own desire for fulfillment and company mirrored his own want to not be alone.

Part of him really wished you hadn’t said that — but once the gate was open, Jesse couldn’t stop himself, and neither could you. His gaze fell to your lips, thumb briefly caressing your jaw until the two of you were colliding into one another.

Jesse kissed you again, compassionate and borderline needy, hand dropping to grasp at the curve of your hip. His free hand still remained tangled with yours, eyes fluttering shut as you shuffled forward, partially planted within his lap. It was enough to make him forget about the downward spiral he was on, and it was as if the plummeting had ceased — for now.

You didn’t know where this would lead, but that was the exhilarating part about it. The uncertainty and the newfound territory that was Jesse Pinkman elated you. Maybe this was what you needed; he was what you needed — you needed a fresh start.

“Hey, uh,” Jesse whispered against your mouth, fingers teasing the hem of your baggy shirt, grazing over your thigh. “Where we going with this?” It was spoken with compassion and concern, out of total thoughtfulness for you. Maybe you didn’t want to sleep with a junkie — he couldn’t blame you.

“I think I know where I’d like to go,” You confessed, head canting to one side. “Where do you want to go?” You asked, idly trailing your digits through his hair. You noticed the subtle bobbing of his Adam’s apple, accompanied by a peculiar sheen within his eyes.

If it was something serious that you were after, Jesse was unsure if he even had that capability. After Jane, it almost seemed to shatter — fall apart. Maybe it didn’t have to be that way forever. Perhaps, there was a light at the end of the tunnel for the two of you.

Instead of recoiling, Jesse held you closer, wordlessly ushering you into his lap, palm splayed out underneath your shirt, resting soundly at the curve of your hip. “I just,” He hesitated, completely enamored by you — you were beautiful. “I don’t know if I can be what you need right now.” He admitted.

You respected him all the more for his candor, hands coming to rest at the nape of his neck. You decided to kiss him, slow and steady, tilting to one side for something deeper. When you withdrew, your lips twitched into a smile. “I’m patient.” With that conclusion alone, Jesse relaxed.

He felt a bit of pressure relinquish itself from him, like a weight being removed from his chest. Jesse was worried that you’d want something serious, something strict off the bat. He didn’t intend on sleeping around, but he was afraid of disappointing you more than anything.

Given the implication of your interactions, Jesse had something on his mind — he figured that the feeling was mutual.

Jesse remained quiet for a moment, pressing a sweet kiss against your jaw, and then another to your neck. “Where’s your room?” He murmured, nearly shuddering in delight when you absentmindedly tugged on his hair.

“Come on.” Reluctantly, you removed yourself from his lap, taking ahold of his hand as you led him down the short corridor towards your bedroom. It was, as Jesse expected, lavishly-decorated and aesthetically pleasing. It far outweighed the dump he was living in.

“Cute.” Jesse couldn’t help but comment, lips twitching into a smile as he observed your choice of style and the many pillows piled up on top of your mattress. Admittedly, it all felt so cozy and welcoming — it even smelled good.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you watched as Jesse nudged the door closed. The both of you were swallowed by the lower, dim lighting of your bedroom, slivers of orange encompassing your scantily-clad frame.

He pressed closer, hands roaming across your body, one palm gently slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to brazenly grab at your ass. Locked in another heated kiss, your hands moved to push his jacket away, draping across his shoulders.

The sensation of your fingers roaming through his hair was enough to make his knees weak, a low groan resonating within his throat. You tasted sweet, like the twang of strawberry chapstick and the citrus seltzer you’d been drinking at the party. Jesse kissed you again, greedily this time, one hand cupping the curve of your hip.

As the two of you fell onto your bed in a feverish heap of limbs and mouths, you withdrew for a moment, getting yourself adjusted. You prepared to remove your shirt until you saw Jesse laying there, eyes half-lidded. Exhaustion was scrawled into his face, as if it were a permanent feature.

“Are you tired?” You asked, more concerned about his state of wellbeing. You were getting hot and bothered, but your own desire could be put on hold for a little while.

Jesse appeared embarrassed, but with the bags underneath his eyes and the perpetual state of tiredness that hung around him, he couldn’t lie to you. “Yeah,” He chewed at the inside of his cheek. “Shit, this feels pathetic. I’m practically blue-balling myself.” He mused, and it made you giggle.

“It’s not pathetic, Jesse.” You reassured, opting to climb into bed and make yourself comfortable. Jesse kicked off his shoes, following suit until he was resting at your side, arms tangled around you. “You look like you’re seconds away from crashing. I think we can put sex aside for now.”

Begrudgingly, he felt you cuddle against him, head near his collarbone as he made himself comfortable with you. His erection happened to push into your rump throughout, but before you could make a playful comment about it, his breathing had steadied.

“Jesse?” You whispered, receiving no response. He was most definitely asleep, and you confirmed this by simply rolling over. His expression was cast into one of bliss, still clutching onto you even through slumber. You sank back down with a smile, and decided to sleep, too.

—

Slivers of dawn’s first light trickled through the gossamer curtains — faint enough not to draw any attention, but enough to signal to Jesse that it was early in the morning. He’d stayed the night, and even then, it didn’t seem real.

You were asleep at his side, still nestled against him, but beginning to stir. Jesse couldn’t tell if it was because you were really waking up, or because his hard-on was protruding into you. He remembered last night — kissing you before he’d fallen asleep.

It wasn’t one of his smoothest moments — not by a long shot.

“Hey,” As the haze of grogginess began to lift, you were elated to find Jesse — still in your bed, and still next to you. Even being disheveled from sleep, Jesse found you to be astoundingly gorgeous. There was perfection to you that he wanted to drown himself inside of. “You’re here.” You smiled.

“Did you think I ditched or something?” He asked, arm draped around you as you shook off the feeling of slumber. Admittedly, part of you thought he’d wake up and leave, but he proved you wrong.

“A little bit,” You confessed, feeling his hand trace idle patterns into the dip of your waist. You wriggled closer, pressing a soft kiss against his stubbled jaw. “But I’m glad you didn’t.” It was complete and utter bliss, waking up with him — it was the last thing you expected, but you could get used to it.

Jesse huffed, hand dragging from your waist to your face, palm cupping your cheek as he caressed your jaw with his thumb. “Nah,” He smiled this time, cerulean eyes boring into you, becoming lost in the mere presence of you. “Didn’t even cross my mind, if I’m being honest.”

You smiled, eyelashes fluttering in rapid succession before you planted a sloppy, slower kiss against his lips. “What crossed your mind instead?” You asked, careening into the sensation of his palm cradling your face.

Jesse felt much better, no longer plagued by the desire for sleep. Instead, there was something else he wanted — he wanted to pick up from last night. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours, hand skimming toward your thigh.

“Lots of stuff,” He began, coaxing you against him as he answered your question in between a series of heated, needy kisses. “All about you.” Jesse confessed, peering at you through his lashes before his hand gently grabbed at your ass.

“Yeah? Do you wanna show me?” You asked, becoming a bit breathless whenever he kissed you. It was accompanied by plenty of groping, ensuring that you were flush against him as the tension rose to a boiling point between the two of you.

You weren’t about to recoil, reciprocating his kiss with a passionate one of your own, stomach churning with anticipation. Your hand moved toward the nape of his neck, fingers lightly grabbing at his hair. Each kiss was sweet yet sloppy, and you could feel Jesse’s hand underneath your shirt.

“Yeah, I do. Do you wanna do this?” Jesse murmured, ensuring that he wasn’t jumping the gun. You could’ve changed your mind from last night — that was certainly a possibility, and he’d be just fine with it. He was partially on top of you, but he leaned back enough to gauge your answer.

“Absolutely.” You smiled, sitting up enough to get your shirt off, which Jesse kindly assisted with. The both of you sank into a rather peaceful moment, blissfully quiet as he wriggled out of his shirt.

Jesse leaned forward again, capturing your mouth in a passionate, heated kiss, his hands finding the smooth curve of your hips. “You’re so pretty.” He exhaled, feeling that little pang of nervousness. He hadn’t touched a girl since Jane, but he wasn’t about to let himself be thrust into the past, not now.

Heat saturated your skin, crawling all over you like a fever. In the wake of Jesse’s compliment, you felt sheer elation, feeling his lips roam from your mouth to your jaw. His hands were everywhere, inevitably finding their purchase against your thighs. He peppered a string of kisses from your jaw to your neck, though his kisses soon turned to suckling.

“Jesse.” You moaned, haplessly grasping onto his shoulders as he left a series of hickeys on your neck. You felt his digits curl around the waistband of your panties, but he made no motion to remove them just yet.

Your moan was enough to make him shiver in delight, gaze following the path of your hand as you hastily unclasped your bra. You had such a beautiful body — Jesse felt some semblance of awe, snug against you as you got comfortable atop the comforter.

Continuing his previous route, Jesse’s mouth kissed down your neck and collarbone, stopping above your breasts. Even your smell was intoxicating — everything about you reeled him in. “Jesus,” He mumbled against your sternum. “You’re beautiful.” It was an endless string of softspoken praises that escaped him.

He was scrawny, with a lanky musculature — you found it attractive in the best of ways. Your gaze occasionally fell across his many tattoos, committing every detail to memory. Your fingers continued to tug and pull at his hair, body jolting into him when his mouth wrapped around your nipple.

A low groan resonated from his throat, rippling across his chest when you continued to toy with his hair. His hand traced down the plane of your stomach, slipping underneath the elastic trim of your panties. You nearly buckled, writhing underneath him when his digits slipped against your cunt.

You felt his mouth suck and kiss at your breast, in-tandem with the teasing ministrations of his fingers. It was feather-light, enough to drive you to the brink of frustration. “You wet already, angel?” It was almost an incredulous statement instead of a question.

Fuck — the nickname was enough to send shockwaves pulsating through your body. Your skin became awash with warmth, lips falling apart as you peered down, enough to catch a glimpse of those half-lidded, cerulean eyes and the adoring tilt of his lips. Goosebumps snaked across your spine, back arching off of the bed.

Jesse wasn’t dumb — he knew that your reaction was from the nickname. He pressed his tongue against his cheek, pressing a string of kisses from your breast to stomach, tattooed hand curling into your panties as he inched them past your thighs.

“Say it again,” It was a command that fell from your mouth, and not a plea. Your fingers happened to tense within his hair, enough to make his jeans become uncomfortably tight. “Please.” With a breathy exhale, you felt Jesse’s lips trace across the curve of your hip.

He felt his heart hammer with erratic excitement, tongue absentmindedly flicking out to trace across his lower lip. Christ, you looked so perfect like this — Jesse watched you, breathing intensifying as you spread your legs just a little bit. He often walked the line between nervousness and confidence, feeling a sense of boldness swell within him.

His breath fanned across the inside of your thigh, lips ghosting over the soft skin there. Jesse’s gaze remained fixated upon you, glistening with a sheen of lust as he finally began to kiss his way to the throbbing between your legs. “Where do you want me, angel?” Jesse murmured, assuming that he knew the answer.

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt this way — floating, so unbelievably slick and warm that you felt feverish. Jesse brought out a new level of neediness and desperation that you never thought possible. “Jesse,” You moaned, squirming haplessly as you urged him closer. “Please, please.”

Jesse swallowed, wordlessly following the motion of your hand as he lapped at your cunt, tongue dragging along the length of your slit. You were whimpering, one hand grappling at his freckled shoulder. He was so turned on from the noises you made, enough for him to grind his hips into the mattress.

You sputtered a very pitiful apology when your hips bucked forward, but you were met with a barrage of needy licks and a faint moan. Slivers of morning light pooled through the curtains, falling across Jesse as he buried his face between your thighs. His weeks-old stubble rubbed against the sensitive flesh of your legs.

Nimble digits skimmed forward, one palm splayed against your pelvis as the other gripped down on your thigh. You wanted to sob from how good it felt — he was talented with his mouth, that much was for sure. His tongue flicked over your clit, gestures rhythmic and steady.

A knot formed within your stomach, a coil that continued to tighten, threatening to burst if Jesse kept it up. It all felt like some foreign fever dream, but you much preferred the current reality — Jesse Pinkman, eating you out until you cried. You felt his hand brush against yours, a gesture that was startlingly tender.

One hand untangled itself from his hair, deciding to give him a break, going to hold his hand instead, fingers lacing together. You felt his lips begin to purse around your clit, simultaneously eliciting another noisy, elated moan from your lips.

Your chest heaved with a myriad of throaty, high-pitched whimpers as he sucked on your clit, stars rippling past your vision. No one had ever gone down on you with such reverence and passion before, but now that you’d gotten a taste, you wanted more.

Jesse hadn’t realized it, but somewhere in the thick of hooking up with you, he was feeling like himself again. It almost felt as if he’d been transported back to a time before he’d met Walter White, to a time where he was slinging crystal and simply enjoying life. Each moan, every little mewl and keen that escaped you was akin to music.

“Jesse,” You panted, breathing somewhat ragged as he lapped at your clit. That coil began to unfurl, blistering heat coursing through you, a white-hot rush of sheer ecstasy that caused you to moan and cry out. “Jesse!” You felt him squeeze your hand, a silent reassurance to let go.

Unbothered by the mess, Jesse groaned, feeding off of your orgasm as he lapped at your cunt, ministrations lacking the vigor from before. Your stomach felt like mush, but you wanted him to fuck you senseless — you almost felt embarrassed for how wound-up you’d become.

He was quiet, kissing your thighs as he began to sit back up, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. Jesse ogled you, head cocking to one side before he spoke. “You are so beautiful.” It wasn’t something spoken lightly during sex — you felt it seep right into your bones, genuine as ever.

“So are you.” You replied, and you watched his throat bob as he swallowed. Jesse crawled up, and in a flurry of unrestrained passion, he kissed your mouth. You could taste yourself, taste him — it was enough to make your cunt throb again, still dealing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Could you, uh …” Jesse mumbled, erection pulsing and rubbing right into the pliant flesh of your thigh. “I want you on top.” He was used to climbing on top of girls and going to town until he ran out of stamina, but he had different reasons this time. “I wanna see you.”

Your heart fluttered within your chest, and you nodded, watching as he rolled over, making himself comfortable atop the mound of pillows lining your bed. There was something eerily intimate in the way that he spoke — maybe it was just you. It was soft and sweet, enough to make you shudder as you straddled his hips.

Reaching for his belt, you unfastened it, moving enough for him to kick his pants off. His hands moved toward your thighs, fingers caressing across your flesh as the both of you worked to remove the final article of clothing. He was quiet this time, staring up at you with a searing, intense look — it was almost adoring.

He was unbearably hard, hips writhing slightly, desperate to be inside of you. Jesse nearly melted at the sensation of your hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a few, sluggish strokes, thumb swiping across the head before you lifted yourself up just enough.

Jesse groaned in tandem with you as you sank down onto his length, digits tensing into your thighs as you adjusted yourself, lips falling apart. You reached for his hands, fingers twining together. Goosebumps erupted across his body, chest fluttering with an unshakable warmth.

“Jesus.” Jesse breathed, watching as you stooped down to press your mouth against his, open-mouthed and sloppy. His tongue traced across your lower lip, and you responded by rolling your hips forward. He exhaled, reciprocating with another heated, messy kiss.

He released one of your hands, enough to grip onto your hip, guiding you into a steady rhythm. Your pace was somewhat sporadic and erratic at first, slipping into a natural flow once he held onto you. Jesse groans, unable to keep from staring at you as if you were perfection incarnate.

You whimper, using your knees to rock yourself up and back down, sinking onto his cock until he’s bottomed out. The intermingling of your moans fill your bedroom, accompanied by the faint squeak and creak of your bed frame. “Jesse.” You mewl, feeling his lips smack against your collarbone.

What started as something slow and sluggish had gained traction, your pace increasing slightly. A crackling, familiar heat raced across your body, making your stomach churn with anticipation, simultaneously pooling with warmth.

A soft moan tore past his lips, skin flushing with a rosy shade as you careened forward, one palm splaying out across his chest. “Shit,” Jesse’s voice emerged again as an excitable pant, squeezing your hand as you continued to piston yourself up and down. “You feel so good, baby.” Any little nickname was enough to make you preen.

Heat rippled through you, continuing to consume your body in waves. He sat up, enough to be within reach of you as he pressed a messy, sultry kiss against your collarbone, clamoring for your mouth as you tilted your head downward.

Your hand snaked from his chest to the nape of his neck, gripping his hair once. Your motions became somewhat uneven and less rhythmic as you rocked yourself on his cock, mewling and whimpering, noises intertwining with his strenuous groans. His palm grabbed at the curve between your thigh and ass, gripping you tight as you rode him.

“M’close,” You huffed, prying your lips away from his, only for you to press a trail of haphazard kisses against his stubbled jaw. “Jesse.” Another whine escaped you, followed by a cacophony of lewd noises. Your thighs felt a strain and burn from pistoning yourself onto his cock so many times, heat pooling between your legs.

Jesse was right there with you, though he wasn’t entirely sure where you wanted him to unload, to put it mildly. “Where do you want me?” He asked again, mirroring his inquiry from earlier. You slowed somewhat at that question, but he shook his head. “Keep going.” Despite the sting of borderline overstimulation, he didn’t want you to stop.

Both of his hands redirected themselves to your hips, guiding you along, letting you grind yourself forward, rolling your hips up and back onto his length. He groaned again, forehead pressed against yours, skin feeling as if it were set ablaze. The hold you had on him already was rather ironclad.

He kissed you again, unusually intimate and full of desire, digits groping and kneading into your curves. Your skin felt velvety underneath his fingertips, and your scent invaded his senses, overwhelming him in the best way possible. His cock was throbbing, swallowed by your tight cunt as you whimpered his name.

“Not inside.” You cautioned, breathlessly clashing with him again — all tongue, teeth and want as Jesse nudged you back. With your newfound position, legs locked around his lanky musculature as he rutted into you, you felt like you were seeing stars. “Holy shit, Jesse!” You moaned.

Jesse wasn’t grotesquely well-endowed, but he knew exactly how to utilize what he had. He felt like he’d broken the barrier right then and there, bottomed out inside of you before he pulled out, cumming onto your stomach. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen as thin ropes of slick seed fell across your abdomen.

His chest heaved with recuperative breaths, perspiration glistening along his brow as he hovered over you. The two of you sighed in-tandem, both coming down from a blissful high. Those pretty, cerulean eyes of his consumed you over and over again, fluttering in rapid succession before he lowered himself to kiss you.

It was slow — too slow, almost, but Jesse savored you, instead. Your nails ghosted across his forearm, tracing around the intricate pattern of his tattoo before skimming toward his shoulders. You reciprocated the kiss with a familiar sweetness, unhooking one leg from his waist.

“Sorry,” Jesse mumbled, gesturing toward the sticky mess that was splattered all over your stomach. “You look so pretty like that.” His tone lowered, taking on some delicious pitch that itched a certain part of you, sending goosebumps trailing across your spine.

Before you could respond, Jesse slipped off of you, tugging on his boxers as he wandered toward your bathroom to grab a towel. It was the first one he could get his hands on, returning to you with a rather adoring look in his eyes.

As you cleaned yourself up, making sure to discard the towel into your laundry basket, Jesse reappeared with a glass of water. It was quite endearing, watching the way he took care of you afterwards without being asked to. He sat next to you, watching as you pulled your panties back on and your t-shirt.

“That was really nice.” Admittedly, you needed it — but it felt better than before, all due to Jesse. You curled up next to him, head resting against his collarbone as his palm moved to cradle your face.

“Yeah, it was.” Jesse murmured, wishing that he could stay with you. He needed to get back home — the house was likely ruined. He’d also briefly glanced at his phone and noticed four missed calls from Mr. White’s number. “I wanna do it again.”

You giggled, nose wrinkling in amusement. “Hanging out together or having sex?” You asked, and he scoffed, lips twitching in a brief flash of a smile. “You can be honest, Jesse. I can handle it.”

“Both,” He confessed, savoring the feeling of your hand delicately tracing over the tattoo on his collarbone. “What if I took you out somewhere, yeah? Like on a date.” Jesse couldn’t believe that he’d asked you, but it was out in the open, now — no going back.

“Okay.” You mused, gaze flickering toward his lips. You would never get tired of kissing him — the taste of spearmint and cigarettes had become borderline addictive. “You can take me out.” With that, you leaned forward, pressing your mouth against his.

Jesse exhaled, reciprocating your kiss with one of his own. He squeezed his eyes shut, pad of his thumb caressing over your jawline. “Shit,” He sighed, a forlorn look within his eyes. “I gotta get going. I don’t want to.” He didn’t want to leave, but he had a feeling he’d be seeing you again soon. His phone vibrated again.

You yearned for the contact when he’d rolled out of your bed, getting himself dressed again. Once he found his jacket and keys, you decided to walk him to the door, standing with him in the cool morning breeze. Sunlight glittered down, bathing the both of you in picturesque lighting.

“Jesse,” You murmured, hand poised along the doorframe. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” You asked, watching him linger around on the front step as he glanced toward his car. After everything that happened, from last night to now, you were a little worried. He wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind — that much you knew.

Jesse hesitated — he didn’t have a viable answer to that. His house was a drug-laden pit, he was beginning to spiral, but you’d kicked him back onto a different path. It was an unpredictable road ahead. Even he had no idea how he’d feel by the end of the day, but one thing was for certain — he’d be okay for you.

He swallowed, and then nodded twice. “Yeah, I think so.” His chest tightened with a flurry of emotions, ones he hadn’t felt since Jane was around. Jesse was absolutely enthralled by you — and he wondered if that would lead to your doom.

With that, you nodded, beginning to turn around. Before you could, you felt a hand curling around your wrist, as if guiding you elsewhere.

“Hey,” Jesse muttered, reeling you back in for a gentle kiss. “I’ll see you later.” It was a promise to himself, more than it was to you. He was reluctant to pull away, but the buzzing in his pocket became rather urgent.

The kiss caught you off-guard, stealing every wisp of air right out of your lungs, warmth creeping across your skin until it burned something hot within your cheeks. You opened your mouth, unable to keep from smiling.

“See you later, Jesse.”

You really hoped that you would.

#jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman x you #breaking bad #jesse pinkman fanfiction #jesse pinkman #breaking bad fanfiction #breaking bad fanfic #better call saul #female reader #aaron paul #sunkendreams masterlist

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dooblebugss · 1 month

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Some very general buggy headcanons for Bug Fables, focusing on the Main Three and the Explorers Association. Spoilers for the game.

Kabbu: (Rainbow Scarab Beetle)

- being a dung beetle (despite the name he's perfectly happy with mushrooms and leaves and everything else, he's actually quite diverse in his diet), he is very good at digging. He actually really likes digging too! Take a little dirt nap

- related to the previous, he loves being COMPRESSED. To mimic the feeling of layers of soil, he'll pile on blankets and pillows until he's satisfied. (During cuddle sessions he is at the very bottom of the pile)

- when it gets cold, his tunneling instinct increases ever so slightly. Not enough for him to start acting different, but he tends to hoard blankets.

Vi:

Leif (Technically a Fungus running on moth hardware, but sometimes old habits die hard lmao), Mothiva, and Yin:

- Bees don't need to 'dance' in order to communicate anymore, but Vi still uses a lot of hand gestures and moves a lot when talking, especially if she's frustrated or feels like she's not communicating well enough. If you bring attention to this, she will get mad.

- When cold, Vi will try to huddle up to bugs nearby. Typically Kabbu, but she's also done it to Maki, Zasp, Celia, and Stratos. (Leif is very jealous of this, but he's already cold, so-)

- they groom their ruffs, wings, and antennae frequently. For starters, this acts as a grounding experience that calms them down, and secondly no one likes having dirt on them. Yin isn't super good at it because she's so young, but she's getting better. Mothiva uses specialized powders and perfumes while doing it, but Leif does it the 'old fashioned way', aka with his spit, lol. Mothiva nearly fainted when she first saw him doing this.

- bright lights (especially artificial ones) can really mess up with their internal clock and GPS. I'd imagine Leif and Mothiva getting really really really lost in the Termite Kingdom and Bee Kingdom because of this.

Maki and Kina:

- they both have amazing reflexes, and they can go from a standstill to moving very quickly in what seems to be an instant

- they will track quick movement instinctually, especially from smaller bugs and critters. Most bugs assume this just shows how observant and skilled they are, when really it's a hunting trait. The two actually find it very embarrassing to suddenly interrupt a conversation when they see something move very quickly out of the corner of their eye and NEED to turn their head to see what it was.

Zasp: (I know the game says he's a potter wasp, but for my writing he's a paper wasp. He doesn't know this though, and assumes he is a potter wasp)

- when anxious, he will grind his mandibles against one another. It almost looks like he's chewing on nothing, and it would kinda be like chewing your lip or grinding your teeth. Chewing on things also helps.

- loves sleeping in little nest-like formations with blankets and pillows. He'd gather up all the bedding material, form a little "wall" with them, and climb in the middle to sleep.

Celia, Gen, and Eri:

- The three of them still use their antennae to help with direction, location, and general senses. This can lead to issues; Gen and Eri have accidentally followed each other for hours (cough cough ant spiral) and Celia, having a broken antennae, is terrible with directions. (If blindfolded, Celia will slowly go in circles)

- Ant Strength baby!!! The three of them are surprisingly strong, and can carry really heavy stuff! To compensate, they're a bit frail (it's why Celia has a shield, and why Gen and Eri rarely get into actual fights).

Levi:

- My man fucking loves Aphid Eggs. Due to the tension between the Ant Kingdom and Ladybugs, he actually doesn't like buying them in public. He usually settles for mushrooms.

- his blood is actually toxic, (something Delilah learned the hard way during a spar) and is sort of a 'last resort' defensive maneuver. If a target can get over being covered in blood, they definitely can't deal with the toxins.

Stratos: (I believe he's a Hercules Beetle)

- He's a technically nocturnal, so he's a little groggy during the day. To others it looks like he's being lazy, when really he's just tired and a little out of it. During the night is when he really shines as a fighter and explorer

- he can dig like Kabbu, but isn't very vocal nor enthusiastic about it. Stratos prefers a shallow little ditch to lay in, which is something he might do if he's really really tired.

Delilah:

- She only actually drinks blood during fights as an attack, or if she's seriously injured and needs a pick-me-up (Stratos will usually step up to the plate for that). She's totally fine with nectar and plant juices and berry juices otherwise. Delilah is aware of the stereotype, and she just kinda rolls her eyes at it.

- Delilah can actually fly like Vi or Zasp. But she prefers to keep this information to herself, as she's worried it'll have people ask her to do more work.

#bf

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enkvyu · 1 year

Text

jjk characters as spiderman pt. one

part one featuring: satoru, suguru, shoko word count: ~3000 warnings: mentions of death, murder and grief. use of profanities. varied headcannon formatting and writing styles part two coming soon

gojo satoru

having spiderman as your boyfriend, is really annoying

sometimes you'll find yourself strolling down the street, peacefully doomscrolling through your phone, when your world flips upside down and gravity is taken from under your feet. only bundles of web keep you suspended in the air, and even your phone which had slipped from your hands, is webbed to the side of the building

blood rushes to your head, fuelling your anger and you have a feeling that you already know the suspect before spiderman shows himself, a certain swagger in his steps as he approaches you

"are you in trouble, random citizen? do you need to be saved?"

you want to curse him out and he knows it. so before you can open your mouth, gojo lifts the bottom of his mask and closes the distance between the two of you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. that shuts you up every time

the bus creaks over the edge of the broken bridge, passengers huddled in corners or pressed up against the window in a means of escape. you usher the children out the door where strangers safely on the other side reach for them. a jarring abyss lays waiting in the gap below.

another creak, your hands fly out to find balance and you hear the screams of others reflected inside your head. the tremble in your fingers becomes harder to hide as the bus slides down, down, down, suspended only due to the front wheels clinging to the ragged edge of the road.

spiderman was late, and that mistake was all it’ll take for countless lives to stain his hands. but of course, your boyfriend was the one and only spiderman, and though you often rolled your eyes at his arrogance, it was there for a reason.

a sudden cheering tears your eyes away from the ledge, and your shoulders sag as a distant figure flies into view.

even in this moment, you can't help but laugh as he swings excessively over the site. it's almost like time stops when your eyes meet, and you see him through the white of his mask. eyes wide, was that a stammer in his swing? and suddenly he's coming towards you.

something flickers to your right, and you spot the prowler slashing his way towards you too. it must have been the widening of your eyes that gave it away as gojo turns his head and traces your gaze. the stammer in his swing is unmistakable now and with a weird feeling brewing in your stomach, you greet him.

gojo calls your name and you have to hush him before the sound gets too loud. “are you okay?”

“i’m fine, spiderman. none of us are harmed. everyone’s only terrified because the bus is about to fall into that weird blackhole thing, down there." his eyes follow your finger and he curses. "think you can do your job and save us?” you say when he doesn't immediately move.

gojo nods. his webs fly out from his wrists and ties the front of the bus to two poles on either side of the bridge. they wrap round and round and round once more, just to be safe. just as gojo is about to pull the bus up, the prowler drops onto the road.

you turn your head with spiderman and only the whispers of bystanders fill the scene.

“spiderman! long time no see.”

“this was your doing.” gojo grits out.

“think of it as a surprise gift. i wanted to return what you gave me.” the prowler lifts his hand and yanks at his right arm, pulling it clean off.

you shriek and hide your eyes with your hands, peeking between your fingers to see that the arm was mechanical.

“i needed a hand.” gojo retorts. “who knew you would come to my rescue. you didn’t need much convincing to show yourself to me, huh? this time for sure, i’ll get you.”

the prowler laughs and its the sound of death. “then lets see if you can catch me.”

he starts running off into the crowd of spectators, a path craved out for him without much effort. spiderman takes a single step forward, before turning back. you recognise the question in his eyes even before he has the chance to voice it.

“go!” you shout. “we’ve got it from here. the longer you stay here, the less time we’ll have to be safe. just go!”

gojo’s eyes show hesitance even through the mask, and for a second, you think he might stay.

his arm comes up, web shooting from his wrist to secure the bus even more to the edge of the bridge. fear makes your mouth dry but you manipulate it to show a smile anyway.

“be safe.” spiderman says. “i love—”

“just go!” you say over him, hoping the people around him didn't hear his last few words. “we’ll be okay, dummy.”

when spiderman leaves, you take in a sharp inhale before turning around. “everyone, come up one at a time! the bus won’t be falling anytime soon but we still have to hurry. get the children out first, here, take my hand!”

metres away, the prowler tumbles back as spiderman’s feet hit him square in the chest. “you followed me all the way out here, gojo? even though your girlfriend’s in danger?”

gojo swallows back the sour taste in his mouth. “she told me to come.” his webs pull him up high and he uses this to put power behind his next punch. “the only person you should worry about is yourself, getou.”

“where are your usual quips? you seem to be out of your element.” getou dances around gojo's moves with ease.

“if you have enough time to talk, then you have enough time to win. so show me what you’ve got.”

getou growls, digging his claws into the cement underneath and lifting it up, sending it straight up in the air. gojo easily swishes to the side, feeling the piece of earth skim his chest as it rushes past. letting the momentum turn him around, he spins and shoots webs at the prowler’s feet.

“you missed!” gojo taunts, jumping off a streetlamp as the prowler throws something at him again. again, he webs at the prowler.

“it wasn’t you i was aiming for.”

gojo lets the comment fall off his ears, diving between the prowler's legs to kick him across the back of his head. getou grunts, and tries to move only to find himself held in place.

“you’re done.” gojo says, dropping down to walk towards the prowler.

getou stays silent as gojo walks up, before jerking forward, stepping out of his boots to headbutt gojo. spiderman groans, clutching his head, giving getou enough time to run off. before he could give chase, he was already gone, now more nimble having discarded his armour.

the prowler has slipped from his fingers. again. gojo snarls, before sighing, he shakes off his regrets and attempts to clear his mind. no, he shouldn’t be focusing on this right now. right now, he just needed to make sure you were safe. turning back, he surveys the scene for something to swing on, to gain aptitude.

there were those two poles on either side of the bridge, from earlier. perhaps it was the dust he had kicked up, but he could no longer see them in the distance. something chilling fills his stomach, and he chooses to ignore it, aiming his wrists for the next best thing and slinging forward.

the crowd parts for him.

“where’s the bus?” he asks no one in particular. the bystanders whisper, but it isn’t an answer that leaves their tongue. gojo’s eyes take in the crumbled bridge, a large chunk of cement situated at the scene that wasn’t there before. with a gutting feeling, gojo peers over the edge of the bridge, straight at the black hole.

his grief is the city’s soundtrack for that night, ringing through the streets where he once kissed you.

getou suguru

being spiderman is so easy, getou thinks.

as he weaves through the jungle of tokyo skyscrapers, wind caressing his face through the latex, a true tranquillity washes over him. there was nothing quite like being a superhero, especially if you were as good as getou was at his job. and boy was getou good. in fact, he was so good that he wasn't even going to be late to your date.

being spiderman is so easy.

spiderman swings through the open window of his room and with a huff, yanks off his mask. his hair tumbles out, all fuzzled from the static and harboring small knots. getou smooths his troubled hair as best as he can, but gives up settles for finding a cap to shove over it instead, since he’s sure you would complain if he showed up in his current state.

getou spins around his room, whistling in haste, clicking off his web shooters and throwing them somewhere behind him.

the tune dies on his lips when he finds you sitting on the edge of his bed, phone forgotten in your hand.

you stare up at him like he's grown two heads. though, it might be more accurate to say that he grew two faces in that moment.

your initial surprise wears off and you jump at the opportunity to interrogate him. "getou? no, spiderman? are you spiderman? what am i saying, of course you are! you're spiderman! i just saw you swing into your room! you'd think spiderman would have better instincts than this."

at first, getou panics. his hands flail around frantically as if to wave away your questions, but it only fans the flames. eventually, he cracks. laughing, he holds you by the shoulders. "slow down! i can't answer all these questions if you don't let me."

you beam up at him and he remembers why he fell in love with you in the first place. "my boyfriend is spiderman." you reaffirm in wonder.

"and my girlfriend is the most incredible girl i know. who's going to let me change out of my dirty suit before you press me further."

"i was wondering what that smell was."

"i was fighting a sewer monster. you'll see him on the news soon enough."

"so this is where your large, inflated ego comes from. i was wondering where you got your confidence. if only i knew it was because you're spiderman! the spiderman!"

getou exhales a mix of a sigh and a chuckle. he’s almost tempted to think this was a blessing in disguise, for you to know and accept who he was. your eyes peering up at him, not seeing him anew, but seeing him whole. “okay, okay, enough. are you going to stick around to find out what spiderman’s body looks like underneath the suit too. or are you going to let me change by myself?”

for a lost moment, getou wonders why superheroes hide their identities.

spiderman’s hands yearn to grab onto you, the world like rushing water against his ears, fingertips stretched to their limit and he pleads in that moment that if you live, when you live, he'll never involve you with his spiderman side gig again. he’d been so thrilled to bring you along, take you soaring in the skies, sharing that intimate moment suspended between twilight and the city below, letting his most precious person join him in the joys of his world that differed so much from yours. he thought the world would explode in a million happy little pieces of confetti if he did so.

the ground breaks into view and getou sees you, backdropped against the incoming grey cement, and you see him, illuminated by the moon peeking through the steel bars of the watchtower, his mask ripped to show the vulnerable boy beneath.

he screams your name again but you can barely hear it, only making out the outline of his lips.

you've never felt the thrill of falling before, but you know you can't say the same for getou. spiderman practically lives in the air, caught between webs and the night sky. so you wonder why he looks the way he does, fear agape and swallowing his face, a raw kind of desperation that eats up every other facial feature and spitting out the ugly, worrying kind, when he’s in his element.

fingers touch fingers and with effort, spiderman reaches you.

the sudden rush of adrenaline leaves you gasping in his arms and you feel his breath mingling with yours. alive. you had felt the presence of the ground closing in on your neck seconds before his webs halted your descent, a single second late and you’d likely be dead.

the two of you huddle on the ground, holding tight on one another as if letting go would mean you'd never see each other again. getou lets go first, a shaky breath prefacing his words. you smile quietly at his concern, tracing his face with a shaky hand.

"thank god, i thought i would lose you—"

getou hears the bang of a gun before he sees it happen, your head lolled to the side until it thuds against his arm, a frozen smile on your face. he wonders briefly if the relief on your face was fate’s big, cruel joke, or if he should be happy that you had died thinking everything was going to be alright.

blood slowly leaks from the wound on your head. getou turns his head to the perpetrator and toji smiles back.

“a gun might not work on you, but it sure as hell would work on your girlfriend.”

when toji aims the gun next, getou ducks behind another pillar, his arms still holding you. the bullet hits the ground and a cloud of dust separates him and toji momentarily, and he takes the given second to look at you.

your eyes that once saw him, seeing nothing.

ieiri shoko

the news anchor reported that authorities had discovered webbed villains scattered throughout tokyo with several organs misplaced. they don’t want to jump to conclusions nor falsely accuse a certain web-related superhero, the anchor says, but they’d appreciate it if spiderwoman could confirm or deny any connections she may have with the current situation.

you turn away from the tv to shoko, the spiderwoman herself, as she lounges across the couch.

“what’s that about?” you ask.

your girlfriend pauses her game to look up at you. "it wasn't me. what would i do with organs anyway?" she says around the lollipop in her mouth, flicking it side to side to talk.

you think this is reasonable enough and let the topic drop. they were probably exaggerating anyway, that's what the news does best. shoko may not have the strongest moral compass, but suggesting that she was hoarding organs was extremely far-fetched, especially since she did a great job at ensuring tokyo’s safety.

huffing, you lean into her. "you could sue them for defamation."

"spiderwoman in court? wouldn't that be something. besides," she quickly gives you a clumsy kiss on the corner of your mouth and it tastes like raspberries. "you're the only one whose opinion i care for."

a comfortable silence stretches out between the two of you and you revel in the moment. it was rare to catch her away from her hero responsibilities, after all.

"what would you do if they were right though?"

you sit up and give her a level stare. "but they're wrong, right?"

"right. but if they weren't. hypothetically."

"shoko, where did you put the organs?"

“i hid them in your basement. what? you told me you never used it for anything. besides, i wanted to show you this interesting thing the human heart can do. where are you going? come back, i’m sorry, i’ll put them back!”

it was her potential that caught the eye of the spiderverse, an elite society of spidermen across the multiverses that ensured the stability of the cosmos. at first, shoko had been intrigued. different worlds, some so akin to her own but so unfamiliar at the same time, the endless opportunities and specimens and curiosities, shoko was enthralled.

though you weren’t on the need-to-know basis, shoko would whisper tales of her otherworldly adventures on late-night sleepovers and you both would giggle over the fantastical. it’s slightly bitter when she leaves for days on end, but you reassure yourself that it never exceeds a week, and that she’ll come back with a stolen souvenir and another world to share.

when shoko finds out you have to die, must die for the sake of the universe and all that exists beyond it, she feels conflicted. she could always reject the customs of the spiderverse, but the fantastical sights and infinite promises it held were all too tempting.

she’s forced to promise to not come in between the canonical event.

the decision breaks her. seeing you was no longer comforting. everything feels temporary, rearing to break apart and on nights she feels it the most, seeking momentary peace at the end of a burning stick despite your protests, she wonders if she could have fought harder. but it was choosing you or choosing the world and being spiderwoman meant she was capable of doing one, but not both.

eventually, shoko stays away. it happens like the flick of a switch, leaving earlier in the morning or denying the weekly movie night, or leaving your texts on delivered for weeks. and the entire time, you’re left in the dark.

shoko’s last selfish wish, she told herself, was to at least not see it happen. if she never saw it, never knew when it happened, then did it happen at all? so she fills her mind with thoughts of disgusting creatures and beating, pulsing hearts, of blurring villains and endless citizens in distress, and never of you.

but just like how she had never been one for rules, you weren’t one either. tracking her down, tracing her every move, you began to plot out her schedule on the rare occasions she’d come back to her world, to pick up a few clothes or to watch you through your window, never daring to come inside.

you feel triumph when you hop universes with her, unbeknownst to shoko’s knowledge. your feet dangle in a space not bound by time or gravity until they thud on unfamiliar soil. you’d made it, you think, you've successfully jumped through space all in the name of love. you did it even better than interstellar, even.

but someone once said: “there’s no curse more twisted than love.”

your naivety leads you to a battlefield, one on a scale that leaves shoko bleeding and panting, hand on knees, the other swiping a red streak across her mouth. just as she squeezes her eyes shut in the face of an incoming fatal blow, you jump in between

her eyes shake as you lie in her arms. battle rages on as spiderpeople from various universes come to her rescue, but the noise and clatter tunes out and a hollowness fills the void.

your hand comes up to rub the red mark on her cheek, but the force behind the gesture is weak and losing strength by the second.

“why are you here?” shoko asks. she grabs your falling hand and presses it back on her cheek, giving you the strength to smear the blood. it only makes the spot messier though, rubbing over your hand and over hers.

“i love you.” you choke. “you never said it back before you went away.”

“you idiot. i love you, you don’t need me to say it back. you should already know.”

“then why did you leave me?”

“i didn’t choose to!”

you close your eyes as everything feels heavy. “can you tell me a story? of what you’ve up to without me?”

“i can’t.” she manages to say around a sob.

“shoko.”

“yeah?”

“you never took those organs out from my basement.”

“you could have cleared it away when i was gone.”

you smile despite yourself. “that would just have made your disappearance sadder. they reminded me of you.”

you can feel shoko’s body trembling underneath you. taking in a deep breath, and you have an inkling it might just be your last, you manage out a few more words. “i love you.”

but just like how she had left you without a goodbye months ago, you don’t hear whether she replies before you slip away.

as thank you for 100 followers and support on my previous posts !! i don't know why i keep writing angst when i can't even do it well, call it self-sabotage. i don't really have a fav from this post but megumi's that will be out on part two comes in close so look forward to that 🤍

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cozage · 1 year

Note

Hi. How are you? Can I put in a request for Law x Corazon’s daughter? Corazon asks Law to take care of his wife and daughter (she is his age) if anything were to happen to him. After Corazon dies, Law finds them and stays with them before becoming a pirate and promises to visit. As the years go by, he falls for her and vice versa. Then after Dressrosa (which she helps them with), he asks her to join the crew.

A/N: Im great! anyway…Uhhhh yeah this got way long. I’m not mad about it. I hope it was worth the wait for you :) (you can also read it on AO3 if you dont like the tumblr format for long posts)

Characters: female reader x Law

Cw: sadness, abandonment, parent death

Total word count: 5.2k

A Lifetime Promise

You pout at the boy standing in front of you. “Who are you?”

Your mom squeezed your hand to silence you. “You must be Trafalgar Law,” She said, smiling at the boy. She seemed tense, like she’s scared of something.

“You have a funny hat,” you remark, looking at the spots. They matched his skin, which was patch-worked like the cows you had at home.

“You have a funny face,” he spits back, scowling at you.

You stick your tongue out at him, and your mother picks you up and holds you on her hip.

“Well, Law. Let’s get you settled into your new home.”

“What?!” you shriek, looking at your mother. “I don’t want him to live with us! He’s mean! And scary looking!”

“Quiet, Y/N!” Your mother hissed at you, squeezing you tighter to her. You could tell she was upset, but you weren’t entirely sure what you had done to make her so sad. So you kept quiet and let your mother lead the strange boy back to your house.

He stayed with you for a few years, and in that time you learned to coexist. You helped him study, and you were there when he got the last drop of lead poisoning out of his system. Both of you cried for the things you had lost and the things you had gained, and you learned to actually enjoy being around him and his friends.

You spent the summers roaming the forests with Law, Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo, and you spent the winter huddled together in front of a lowly lit fireplace, your mother serving you all hot chocolate. It was heaven in the North Blue Sea, and you never wanted it to end. You all would be together forever, you were certain.

“One week from now, we’re setting out.” He had acquired a small boat, big enough for four people. “We’re going to take on the Grand Line and I’m going to be King of the Pirates.”

“It’ll be a tight fit, but we can all fit I think,” you said, examining the boat. One more person wouldn’t be that much weight.

Law shot you a look, and the other members exchanged looks nervously. They had been anticipating an argument, but they weren’t expecting it to be in front of them.

“You’re not coming, Y/N-ya.”

You looked at him, trying to understand. Your goals have always been aligned. Go to the Grand Line and take down the Donquixote family. To take revenge for your father and for Law.

“A pirate's life is a man’s life. You wouldn’t fit in. We all talked about it, and you’re better off staying here. Where you’re safe.”

“I don’t want to be safe, Law,” you cried, your eyes filling with tears. “I want to be with you! We had plans!”

“Plans change.”

“You’re really going to leave me behind?” Your broken voice and bleary eyes were almost enough to change his mind.

“I never promised to take you with me,” he snapped. He tried to ignore the pain in his chest when you ran away crying, but the dull ache didn’t go away.

The coldness between the two of you was worse than any winter storm you had ever encountered. He said goodbye when he thought you were asleep, and you laid there silently without responding. It was easier for you both that way.

He didn’t return for another year, and when you saw the pirate flag the four of you had created now painted on a submarine, your heart soared.

“Law!” You screamed, jumping onto the deck as if it were second nature.

You leaped into his arms for a hug and he caught you, spinning you around with the momentum you both had gathered.

“I missed you,” he whispered, clutching you close to him.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Let me come with you this time!”

His hands gripped tighter against your back, grabbing fists of fabric from your cloth dress.

“Just kidding!” You say quickly, not wanting to pick up a year old fight. You scrunch your nose at him and your other three friends. “I bet you guys smell. So. Bad.”

Everyone laughs at that, and you pull away from Law nervously, hugging your other friends who you’ve missed just as much.

Their visit was short, but you made the most out of the two days they stayed in port. You showed them new restaurants, and revisited some of your old adventures, and explored the marketplace with Law to make dinner for your mom one night.

And when they left, you stood at the cliffside and waved until they were out of sight, praying their telescope wasn’t good enough to see the tears in your eyes.

It was three and a half years until Trafalgar Law came back to you, but it felt like a lifetime. You had learned to live with the pain of his absence, and tried your best to move on. But every time the light glimmered on the ocean, you could feel your heart calling out to him.

Law came quietly that time. He was surprised when he looked for you at your usual spots and you weren’t anywhere to be found. He wandered the streets with his crew - now 7 strong - searching for you.

“She’s down in the Trademark Hotel. She works the front desk now, dear,” an elderly woman at a stall said.

He tried not to quicken his pace, but everyone could feel his speed increase, and worked to match it. His new crew was desperate to see the girl he returned home to, and his old crew members missed your face.

He rushed in to see you standing at the desk, talking to a man who was dressed in a fancy suit. You laughed, and Law could feel his heart clench with joy at the sound of your voice. He couldn’t help but see a piece of Corazon in your smile now.

Your eyes slid over to the door to greet the new customers, and you screamed out upon realization of his identity, startling the man beside you.

“Law!” You jumped over the desk and he opened his arms for an embrace as you ran to him. He held you in his arms for just a moment before you pulled away, and he reluctantly let you go.

“Oh my god, this is perfect timing!” you squealed, running back to grab the man’s hand. “Jami, this is Law. You remember me talking about him, right?”

“Yeah…” the man eyed Law and his crew. “The pirate crew?”

You laughed. “And my best friend!”

“He’s more like your brother, isn’t he?” He smirked. “Since you were raised together.”

“We’re not siblings,” both you and Law said at the same time, and you laughed at your synchronicity, but Law’s eyes stayed fixed on the man.

Law frowned, looking between you and this stranger. He had his arm wrapped around your waist, and he was standing extremely close to you. It was clear you all were close, but Law had never seen him before. He was glaring at Law, as if he expected some sort of challenge from the pirate.

You took a deep breath, and then broke the news. “Law, this is my boyfriend, Jamison.”

Law’s eyes widened at the news. You were too preoccupied waving to Shachi and the others, but it was enough for Jamison to see his visible reaction.

“The three of us should have dinner tonight,” Jamison said, looking at Law with a smirk. “If you can leave your crew for that long.”

“No way! Everyone needs to come.” You pressed your hand against Jamison’s chest playfully, and Law felt something twist inside of him. “You have new people in your life too, Law. Introduce us!”

Law finally breaks his gaze from Jamison and looks at you, his jealousy melting away when he sees your smile. Things felt more normal when he looked at you and heard your voice.

“I’ll set up a reservation at the hotel restaurant for ten. Oh, and mom. So eleven. Does five o’clock sound okay?”

“Perfect.” He smiled back at you, and for a moment you were alone together in a crowded room.

Jamison cleared his throat, bringing you both back to the group. He looked at Law and his crew. “The dress code is a bit more…” he paused to scan the pirates. “...Formal. I hope you have nicer clothes available than those.”

Law frowns, and he sees you mimic his own facial expression in response to Jamison’s words. “I think the Trademark can make exceptions for distinguished guests.” you said sweetly.

“Darling,” the man hissed, squeezing your side causing you to flinch. “The Trademark has a reputation to uphold, don’t you think?”

Law resisted the urge to punch the man right then and there. If he stepped in now, you would only be angry about his interference. He knew he had to grit his teeth and let you handle it. He fully expected you to give some snarky remark back to Jamison and stand up for yourself and his crew. But the spunk he remembered you having seemed to have dissipated over the years, and your rebelling heart was more soft spoken than he remembered.

You offered a compromise instead of a fight. “Then we’ll go to Cordelia’s.”

“I don’t think Cordelia’s is the proper place for this occasion,” Jamison retaliated.

“Then don’t come.” Your voice was short and to the point, and Law could see the fire of defiance begin to relight in your eyes.

“Cordelia’s sounds lovely,” Law interjected quickly before the fight escalated too much. “Still five?”

You gave him a tight smile and a quick nod, and then broke from Jamiston’s hold to run and wrap your arms around Law’s neck again.

“It really is so good to see you again, Law.”

He held you tight for a moment, trying to remember the feeling of your body against his before he let go. “You too. See you at five,” he said, walking out the door.

When Law arrived at Cordelia’s, he noticed the table was only set for ten, but nobody in his crew commented on it. Law kept the seat next to him open, in hopes that you would take it rather than your snotty boyfriend. But as it turned out, he didn’t need to worry about it. Only you and your mother showed.

“Sorry I’m late!” you say, taking the seat beside Law without a second thought.

“You’re always late,” Law teased.

You waved him off, rolling your eyes at him. You leaned over so you could see his three new crew members. “I’m Y/N,” you said. “I’m so sorry I didn’t officially introduce myself earlier! I was just so overwhelmed with seeing Law and Shachi and Penguin and Bepo!”

“She didn’t even acknowledge us earlier,” Penguin said under his breath, causing Law to shoot him a glare.

The rest of Law’s crew introduced themselves, and you spent a lot of time asking about them and their lives. Law could feel your nervous energy, like you were interviewing celebrities or famous royalty. You wanted to know everything about their lives and how they became a pirate, and by the time dessert rolled around, there was no time left to talk about yourself.

“Can I walk you back to your place?” Law asked as you got up from the table after the meal.

“Such a gentleman!” you gasped, feigning surprise. “Heart Pirate crew, it was lovely to meet you. Please come back anytime! You’re always welcome here.”

Law held out his arm and you grinned as you took it, overly dramatic in your actions. You walked down the cobblestoned streets in the moonlight, quiet for a while until Law broke the silence.

“No Jamison for dinner?” he questioned innocently.

You scowled. “I don’t want to talk about him,” you replied. “Jami always says Cordelia’s is our spot. He doesn’t like to share with other people.”

“He doesn’t seem like-”

“Law,” you warn, irritation creeping into your voice. “I really don’t want to talk about him right now.”

“Okay, fine.” He eyed you, but your face was completely unreadable. He wasn’t sure when he had lost the ability to read your emotions, but it saddened him now.

“Can we go to the harbor before you take me home?”

“Of course, Milady,” he said, ushering you towards the sea wall at the bottom of the hill.

You all sat on the wall, staring at the moon and its reflection against the ocean.

“Tell me a story, Law.” It was something you used to say when you were kids. On the nights one of you had such terrible nightmares that you woke up crying, and the other would crawl into bed with the other. You always begged him to make up some kind of story to get your mind off of things. He was a good storyteller.

He chuckled. “We’re a bit old for that, don’t you think?” He looked over at you, but your eyes were on the sea, deep in thought.

“Tell me a real story, then.”

He obliged, of course. He’d do anything for you. Keep her happy and keep her safe. That’s what Corazon had asked of Law when he was a child. A lifelong promise for the man who gave him a life worth living.

He told you the story of giant bees who hated humans, but loved Bepo’s fur. The crew had to make trades of honey for Bepos fur, and how it saved them from starvation and left Bepo half bald.

“That can’t be true!” you giggled, pushing him away from you. “Tell me a true story!”

“It’s true! I swear!” He said, smirking at you.

“Promise?” you looked up at him with wide eyes, desperately wanting to believe him.

He was about to respond, but your gaze distracted him. You all stared at each other for a few moments, hovering close to each other. Not touching, just out of reach.

“Take me to sail with you, Trafalgar Law,” you begged. “I won’t ask for anything ever again. Just take me with you.”

He desperately wanted to take you away from this island, from the man who claimed to love you and the mediocre job you worked. But he made a promise.

“I can’t,” he whispers, and you can hear the pain he's causing himself in rejecting you.

You pull away, breaking your eye contact with him to stare out into the sea. You want to cry, but no tears would come. You were expecting this response from him. You were expecting rejection from him. It still stung, but not as much as you were anticipating.

“Okay,” you say with a nod, pushing down your sadness. “I won’t ask you again.”

You rise to your feet, and turn your back to the ocean and your best friend, and walk into your house on the dock. Law didn’t even have time to beg you to stay before you had vanished into the night.

Law found your house the next morning with the help of a friend of yours. Of course, Jamison answered the door with that signature cocky sneer on his face.

“She’s not feeling well,” he said, glancing at the back room. “How about you try again tomorrow?”

“We’re leaving tomorrow,” Law says, trying to push past the man. “I need to see her before we go.”

“I’ll send her your way if she’s feeling up to it, okay?” He starts to shut the door, but Law jams his foot into the opening to prevent it from closing completely.

“I need to see her.”

“No, you don’t,” Jamison said, kicking Law’s foot out of the doorway. “I don’t need my future wife being influenced by a bunch of pirates. Your presence is bad for her. You make her rude and disobedient.” He pauses to look out to the harbor, and his smirk returns. “You might want to hurry, it looks like some Navy ships got a tip about a notorious pirate crew on this island. Wouldn’t want you to get caught.”

Law looks to the harbor and finds 10 marine ships on the horizon, and he takes off towards his crew, cursing the coward you’re with.

“I’ll be back,” Law whispers into the air as he runs for his ship. “I promise.”

Law finally made it back to you two years later, praying that you wouldn’t be giving him another major life update when he found you again. He was terrified that he’d come back to you and you’d be engaged to that pompous ass - or even worse, married. He wanted you to be happy, but he knew you weren’t happy with that man.

The crew could sense his tenseness in the days leading up to the arrival on their home island. But nobody talked about it, until Shachi finally went into his office as they docked.

“Are you going to ask her this time?” He demanded. “You know she’ll say yes.”

“I don’t want her on the ship,” Law said. He didn’t even bother to look up from his book.

“Bullshit,” Shachi replied. “You have Ikkaku here now too. You can’t even use that stupid “No Girls Allowed” rule.”

Law didn’t respond. It had been what he told you years ago, and he had to admit he was a little nervous to see how you’d respond to seeing a woman on his crew.

“Captain,” Shachi said, walking over to his desk. “Ask her.”

Law finally looked up from his book. “I’ll consider it.”

When they docked, Law was the first off the ship. The others didn’t bother to follow him, they knew they’d see you soon enough.

He made a beeline for the Trademark, and was surprised to find that there had been a name change in the past year and a half.

It was now the Heart Hotel.

He walked into the lobby, but your smiling face wasn’t the one to greet him, and his heart sunk. A young woman sat at the front desk, but it wasn’t you.

“Hello, how can I help you today sir?” Her voice was high pitched and overenthusiastic, but Law couldn’t tell if she was genuine or not.

“I’m looking for Y/N.” Law said, looking around. “Does she still work here?”

The girl at the front desk laughed at his question, but Law didn’t understand why.

“Let me go get her. Please wait right here. What business do you have with her today?”

Law frowned, unsure how to answer the question. “Personal, I guess?”

The girl nodded and receded into a back room. A moment later he heard your voice cry out, and he relaxed a little bit.

“WHAT?!” He could hear quickened footsteps, and the door to the back rooms opened, revealing your frame.

He smiled when he saw you, but it was quickly erased when he saw your downward knitted brows and angry look on your face.

“Trafalgar Law!” you screeched, storming out to where he was standing. You pulled your hand back and swung it around, your palm hitting his cheek full force. Before Law had time to react, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him close to you, so your face was only centimeters away. You were shorter than him, but with this amount of rage, he couldn’t help but feel intimidated by you.

“Don’t you ever leave me without saying goodbye again!” You said, and he could see tears in your eyes. Your glare breaks, and you crumple into his chest and let out a sob.

“Why did you do that?” you cried. He wrapped his arms around you, and held you tight against him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, holding you tight. He didn’t make excuses or try to explain. It didn’t matter now. “I’m here now. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

You nod into his chest and pull away from him, viciously wiping the tears away with your hands.

“God look at me, I’m such a mess.” Your voice is still thick from crying. “Amanda, I’m going on break. If anyone needs me-”

“They won’t,” Amanda finishes, and you laugh at her response. Then she corrects herself with, “I know, I’ll call you on the transponder snail.”

“Looks like you’ve moved up a bit in the hotel,” Law states as you take his arm and lead him out the door.

Your laugh rings out, and Law feels his heart flutter in his chest. “I’m the owner now, thank you very much!”

“The owner?” he gasped, looking at you. Your chest is puffed out proudly and you’re carrying yourself with more confidence than the last time he saw you.

“Yep! You like the name?”

“I was wondering about that,” he mumbled, looking up at the top of the hotel, where name was proudly displayed.

You giggled again and bumped into him as you walked. “I missed you, Law.”

“I missed you too,” he said, bumping back into you. “You seem to be doing good for yourself.”

“Oh, I love running the hotel!” He can feel your excitement. “It’s something I didn’t even know I was good at, but it’s so fun! And the restaurant is interesting to work in too! It keeps me busy, but me and mom run it together and we work with local farmers and suppliers for everything in the restaurant and for the hotel.”

He listens to you ramble on about the intricacies of the business, and he feels his heart sink. He was going to ask you to come with him, to join him in his adventure. But he can’t pull you away from this life. He can’t pull you away from this happiness. He’s not so selfish that he would do that to you or your mother. He made a promise, and he would be breaking it by asking you to leave now.

When you finish talking about your new business, you both find yourselves at the door of your house on the dock.

“Would you like to come in?” You ask, pulling out your key. “I can make dinner for-your crew! How many are there now? I can make a reservation at the restaurant if you want!”

“There’s thirteen of us in total, but we still don’t have any fancy outfits, I’m afraid.”

You roll your eyes and open the door, trying to usher Law into the house. “The Heart Hotel isn’t as snobby under my new management. Table for 15, got it. Come on in.”

But Law kept standing outside. “Are you sure it’s okay with Jamison that I come in?”

You scowl, and you realize that he’s waiting for some kind of update on more than your professional life. He glances down at your hands, but there’s no sign of commitment around your fingers.

“That kind of crashed and burned.” Your tone indicates that you won’t be going into any further detail, but Law isn’t quite done with his questions.

“It looks like you came out on top, at least.” He walks into the house, looking around. It’s decorated similarly to the house you all grew up in, evident that only you and your mother were living in the space. “The hotel, the house…”

“Law.” Your voice told him he was getting into dangerous territory. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, flopping on the couch. He didn’t want to drop the conversation, but he could tell that he wouldn’t be getting any more information out of you at the moment.

You put out a snack tray, and called Amanda on the snail transponder. “Hey dear, could you put in a reservation for 15 please? 6 pm should be good, but we might be a little late.”

Amanda and you chatted briefly, and then you came back to the living room to sit across from Law.

“So, how’s the sea life treating you?”

He talked about his adventures, telling you about his three new members on the crew. He saw you tense at the mention of a female joining the crew, but you didn’t say anything. You just snacked on the cheese and crackers and listened to his stories quietly.

You desperately wanted to ask him to take you with him again, but you refrained. After the last time, where you begged him to go and then he left without saying goodbye, you promised not to ask anymore. And you would hold true to your promise, no matter how much it hurt to let him leave again.

Law left you to round up his crew, and you all met up again outside of the Heart Hotel. You could tell his crew adored their captain, and it was good to see your old friends and meet your new ones.

Dinner was delightful, and you could tell the chefs had put their entire soul into creating the meal for you all.

“It looks like you’ve got the best of the best working for you,” the crew complimented.

“Oh, they are! I love the creative liberty they take in each meal.” The more you talked, the more apparent it was that you loved the life you had built.

Shachi and Law exchanged a look, a sense of understanding passing through them.

“How long are you here for?” You finally asked after dessert was served.

“We’re actually pulling out tomorrow morning,” Law said, ignoring the look of shock from his crew. They had anticipated being in port for at least a few days.

“What?” Your spoon dropped out of your hand from the surprise. “So soon? I can put you up in-”

“That’s not necessary,” Law said, cutting you off. “I just wanted to stop by and say hello as we passed through.”

“I see,” you said carefully, trying to beat around the bush of the question you wanted to ask. “Are you heading to the Grand Line?”

“Not yet,” Law admitted. “We should be ready soon.”

“You’ll visit before you go for good, right?”

“Promise.”

He came back to find you a year and a half later. He had his mind set for the Grand Line, and he was finally going to ask you to come with him. You had to be by his side if he was going to succeed in being the King of the Pirates.

When he walked into the Heart Hotel, he saw Amanda, who didn’t seem surprised to see him at all.

“Trafalgar Law,” Amanda said with a sad smile on her face. “She said you’d come back.”

Her words raised the hair on his neck. They were ominous and foreboding, and she spoke as if she knew something he didn’t. She walked to the back and came out with a envelope, which she handed off to him.

“This was what she left you.”

“Where is she?” he demanded. His name was on the front of the envelope, the handwriting in your style. He felt sick to his stomach.

“I’m not sure,” Amanda said. “Off on some great adventure. There’s more in the note. You should read it.”

He walked down to the sea wall and sat, opening the letter to find out what happened to you. The date was marked 10 months after he had last visited.

Law,

Mom died this morning. She got sick a few weeks ago, and it all happened pretty fast. The doctors said she didn’t suffer much, and she passed peacefully in her sleep. So I guess there’s some comfort in that. I wish I could’ve told you another way. Maybe I’ll find you and we can talk about it face to face before you’re reading this.

I can’t stay here. Everywhere I look reminds me of you or her. This place I loved just feels dead now. Maybe I’ve outgrown it. Maybe I need something more.

The last time you were here, I was hoping you would ask me to join you. But I see now that you don’t want me to be a part of your crew for whatever reason. Don’t worry, I’m not angry about it. I understand that you want to live your own life, and I don’t hold that against you.

But I can’t wait around for you to brighten up my life every few years. I have to make my own adventure. So I’m heading off to be my own captain, going straight for the Grand Line. I’m going to do what we promised we’d do all those years ago. I’m going to go find my uncle and take revenge on my father. Some way or another.

I hope I’ll see you on the Grand Line. We’ll meet as Pirate Captains, but don’t take too long, or I’ll beat you to the One Piece.

See you soon.

Law shoved your note into his pocket and took off towards his crew. He wasn’t even sure if you had made it to the Grand Line, or how you would survive it long enough to get to Dressrosa.

“We need to go,” he yelled at the crew. “The Grand Line! Now!”

Shachi looked behind the captain, waiting to see you tagging along. But you didn’t appear. “Captain, where-”

“She left!” He yelled. “She went to the Grand Line already!”

“What?!” The crew yelled in unison.

He heard rumors of a one-woman ship in Alabasta, but there wasn’t much information besides that. And then, on Kite Rose Island, he heard that you had disappeared. People speculated if you had been killed by an enemy ship, or sold into slavery, or sunk into the ocean. Law got sick to his stomach whenever he thought about it.

But he still had a promise to fulfill. To take down Doflamingo. For you and for Corazon.

And he did. With the help of the Strawhat Pirates and some luck, he finally succeeded. And as he sat with Sengoku, he couldn’t help but bring up your name.

“Did you know he had a daughter?”

Sengoku raised his brow and smiled. “I kept tabs on her,” he said. “She came to Dressrosa about two years ago, and has been operating under the Donquixote family. I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

“She made it?” Law breathed out, unable to believe you had been here the whole time.

Sengoku laughed. “How do you think your friends were able to navigate the colosseum so easily to escape? Or that the Tontattas made it to Dressrosa so quickly? How do you think Princess Viola avoided detection of her betrayal for so long? She may not have been an inner family of Doflamingo, but she was high on his rank and extremely trusted. Any time you thought luck was on your side, I assure you it was her.”

Law struggled to stand, looking around for you over the cliffside.

“If I remember correctly, she was heading for the castle the last I saw her.”

He ran as fast as his feet would carry him. Even in his weakened state, he willed his body to stay upright to find you. His eyes desperately searched every face he saw, looking for your eyes, your smile. He had tried to abandon the hope that you were alive over the past three years since he found your letter, but it had never truly died.

Finally, he found you laughing with the purple-haired princess of Dressrosa. He called your name, and he saw you turn to him, scanning the faces until you met his eyes.

“Law!” You screamed. You abandoned Viola and took off towards him at full speed, tears streaming down your face.

He tried to brace himself for the impact he knew was coming, but it wasn’t enough, and the two of you tumbled onto the floor. He pulled you into his chest and refused to let you go, and you laid against him, sobbing.

“You did it,” you cried, getting tears and snot all over his coat.

“We did it,” he corrected. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

You cried harder into his chest at his praise, and he stroked your hair gently. He didn’t care that the two of you were causing a giant scene in front of everyone. He blinked back tears of his own, relieved to know you were finally back in his arms and you were safe.

“Sail with me. Join my crew.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded in response.

“I’ll follow you anywhere captain,” you sobbed. “I promise.”

He pulled you closer to him, never wanting to let you go. “And I’ll never leave you alone. I promise.”

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