#one day all of my fics for roses and smoke week will be finished as well as all of my aus i Forgot

[xxswagcorexx]

there are so many fics in my files and yet i struggle to do any of them ever </3

[cha0ticspacebi]

You're An Image Caught in Time: Chapter 2

You got your soulmark when you were very young. You knew who you hoped had left their mark but since they never said anything to you, you resigned yourself to a life of bitter unrequited love. As much as you wanted to meet your soulmate you knew after all these years they must not want to meet you. Though the mark never faded some days you wished it would. Especially after meeting Billy.

☆ Since I've been sucked back into tumblr I thought I'd share my fics from over on A03 here. You can find me over there as Cha0ticBi ☆ Master list link!

Childhood Friends! Eddie Munson X Reader

Tags: 18+ NSFW (MDNI), slowish burn soulmate AU, reader is in an abusive relationship with Billy Hargrove, Dark! Billy, Eddie is a sweetheart but bad at feelings, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, eventual happy ending

Warnings: rape/non con elements, emotional and physical abuse, graphic depictions of violence, suicidal thoughts

Chapter 2/28 Previous chapter → Next chapter

☆☆☆This one dives head first into dub con so I hid the whole thing☆☆☆

“Ugh, fuck yeah! Take that cock bitch, tell me how much you like it!” Billy’s breathy words sent shivers down your spine as he pushed inside you over and over again as you lay there in his bed. His hand squeezes hard on your neck as you try to speak.

“Fuck I-I love it Billy! You feel so good.” the pressure building as his thumb pressed harder into your throat, “Please Billy, I-I can’t br-breathe.”

“Almost there, you can take it.” Your eyes clenched tightly struggling to breath as you hoped he finished quickly. His thrusts became more erratic and finally pulled out to come all over your stomach. His hand pulled away from your neck and you coughed. He got up quickly and pulled his pants back on before lighting up a cigarette.

“Hurry and get cleaned up, we’re going out.” He walked out of the room leaving you lying there. You wanted nothing more than to just lay there and pass out but you knew Billy would be upset if you didn’t hurry up. You pulled yourself up and grimaced as his now cold, wet come dripped from your stomach and down your leg. You grabbed a dirty towel and wiped it off as best you could and then got dressed. Billy’s younger sister Max was in the living room when you walked out. Her smile twisted to acknowledge your presence, lips pressed flat, she nudged her head towards the front door before taking another bite of her cereal.

He was waiting for you on the porch smoking. It’d been two weeks since you started school again. Billy has been working less at the community center as a lifeguard considering the season was at an end. 

“Jesus took you long enough, let's go.” He walked to the car and you rushed to follow him. He rolled all the windows down and pulled away. You wondered where he was taking you. He flicked the cigarette butt out the window and pulled into the parking lot of the Starcourt Mall. The car came to a stop and he smiled at you. He reached across your chest, tugging down your already low cut shirt to reveal more cleavage. You just smiled back and didn’t say anything. He got out, holding tightly to your waist as the two of you walked into the busy mall. Letting your body be guided by him. Nausea rose up into your throat when you saw where he was leading you. His boots clicked against the tile loudly. You stepped inside Scoops Ahoy ice cream shop. As much as you tried to control yourself, he noticed you tensing.

He kissed the side of your head, “What’s wrong sugar? You’ve been so good lately I thought I’d surprise you with a treat, do you have something else you’d rather be doing?” Nothing would be wrong except…your friends worked here. Robin and Steve, who you could see were both working as you approached the counter. Both had kept their summer jobs and you knew how Billy felt about your friends.

You smiled, “Nothing’s wrong. This is nice,” you lied, “Thank you Billy.”

Steve’s lips lowered to a frown when the two of you walked in. He was quick to regain his customer service look though, “Ahoy there! Would you lovely kids like to set sail with me on an ocean of flavor?” He leaned on the counter showing his wrist where six small tally marks appeared. Many people consider only romantic situations when searching for their soulmate, but sometimes your soul connects with an individual in other ways. Sometimes your soul needs a friend that you connect with on such a deep and personal level as they help you navigate this messy fucking world. Robin and Steve were in her words “Platonic with a capital P” but it was painfully obvious even before being official that they were soulmates…bromates?  

Your stifled laugh earned a curt side eye from Billy, “Whatever Harrington, just give me 2 single scoops of chocolate.”

“Whoa not even gonna ask the lady what she wants?”

Billy’s smile accompanied by the painful grasp on your waist made you wish you could beg Steve to just back off, “She loves chocolate right sugar?”

You smile and shake your head, “It’s my favorite.” From the back you definitely don’t miss Robin’s hat moving in a knowingly back and forth motion before she peeks out the service window at you, disapproving eyes staring at you full of pity. Steve thankfully shuts his mouth and takes the money from Billy before scooping the order and handing it to him over the counter. Billy thanks King Steve and walks you over to one of the tables. You thank him again as you take the ice cream from him and slowly start to lick the sweet substance before it starts melting down the cone towards your hand. Billy’s eyes soften as he watches you. He matches your movements with his tongue on his own cone and taunts you until you’re blushing bright red. He looks away from you for a second and scowls.

“Tch, they’ll let anyone in here. We won’t be coming here again.”

You chance a quick glance over your shoulder to see a very unwelcome Eddie and Dustin walking up to the counter talking with Steve. Your heart aches as Eddie turns to face you for just a second. Are you nervous that his look might provoke Billy or is it because you wish he’d look at you more? For a moment you aren’t sure which. You look back to Billy and finish your ice cream in silence. 

You’d swear Billy planned the timing of finishing his ice cream on purpose because the two of you get up to go leave at the same time Eddie and Dustin are walking towards the exit. Billy walks an unnatural path to leave the dining area. You follow behind him and watch helplessly as his shoulder checks into Eddie’s, hard. He laughs watching them react to what he’d done.

“Watch where you’re going freak!” He continues to laugh as he pulls you into him by the hips. You don’t dare look behind you as you continue walking out of the mall. Once out of their sights Billy pushes you away and quickens his pace as you walk back to his car. He doesn’t speak as he lights up a cigarette and drives away. The hand holding it hangs loosely out the window as you try to work up the courage to say something. Whatever you say has to be perfect, the rest of your evening depends on it. You lick your lips preparing to speak but he beats you to it.

“So what Munson’s got the hots for you now?” His tone left no room for debate. He spoke intentionally as he continued to stare out the window, “Saw him eye fucking you back there.” He takes another drag of the cigarette before flicking the burning ash out the window. 

You panicked trying to defend yourself, “What? No way! He probably looked at me to make a joke or something. I hardly know him, besides I’m pretty sure he hates me.”

“So you looked at him too?”

Pain pricks at your eyes hearing his tone, “Just for a second! I wanted to know who you were looking at.”

His fingers reach over and squeeze your thigh. He turns and smiles, “Don’t worry sugar. I’m not mad at you. You tell me if he bothers you.” You breathe a sigh of relief as you drive the rest of the way to your house with his hand on your thigh.

He drops you off with a kiss and then pulls away. You head towards the door and any good mood you had managed to retain on the ride with Billy vanishes. Voices get louder as you open the door to your trailer. Your mom and step dad are screaming at each other about who knows what. You’re thankful for your ability to appear invisible as you sneak past them into your bedroom and close the door. You can’t get your headphones on fast enough. 

The next day at school Robin wastes no time confronting you about yesterday. 

“Chocolate?” You hear shouted from behind you. Your shoulders drop as you already know what’s coming. It’s too fucking early for this shit. You turn to see her stomping towards you.

“Chocolate’s your favorite? Really?”

“Robin, please” you beg, “Just drop it. It’s not that big of a deal. There’s nothing wrong with chocolate ice cream.”

“Oh I’ll drop it when you finally admit to yourself that Hargrove is an asshole.”

Your body vents frustration anyway it can, your head shakes, your eyes roll, and you throw your arms up continuing the bad habit Billy doesn’t like of talking with your hands “He’s not as bad as you think Robin. He can be really sweet.”

“Yeah when? Is he sweet when he apologizes for hitting you? Does he even apologize?” she accuses as she screams causing bystanders to stop and stare. Your throat dries. The pleas for her to stop and be quiet disappear. You freeze. You hang your head, you’d been so careful. You were so sure no one knew. Robin’s hands touched your shoulders softly.

“Did you really think I didn’t notice?” she was fighting back tears, “You’re my best friend! Of course I noticed!”

You looked around, lowering your voice, pressure building in your eyes, “Can you please just drop it? I’m fine!”

She hugged you and cried into your neck, “You’re not! We all love you! Me, Steve, Nancy? We’re your friends! You deserve better, I don’t care what some stupid mark on your body says!” When Billy spread the rumor that he was the one who gave you your soulmark you just never bothered to correct anyone. Not even your closest friends know that it is from someone else. You rub her back as the bell for next hour rings. Great. Biology.

You and Robin stand in the hallway. People can’t help but stare when they walk by on their way to class. She guides you to the bathroom and helps you wipe your face. In doing so, she starts crying all over again when your makeup smudges revealing the nearly healed bruise on your cheek. You lay your head on her shoulder as you try not to start crying again, she lets you stay there as long as you need.  

“We should get to class,” you whisper.

“Screw class, we don’t have to move until you are ready.”

“I’m fine Robin really, I can handle it. Billy has a temper and I’m helping him work on controlling it. He’s got a rough home life.” 

She eyes you, still concerned, “That doesn’t make what he does ok. I’ll trust you but I see another mark. I'm grabbing Steve’s baseball bat and marching over there.”

The two of you stand in that bathroom a little longer before you touch up your makeup and head to class, still catching your breath from running as you enter.

“Well ladies, nice of you to join us.” You see Eddie’s eyes look up when the two of you enter, “We were just discussing the group project I’m assigning.” You apologize and make your way to your seats. The teacher continues, “As I was saying, a large part of your first semester grade will be this project. It’ll likely require many hours outside of class in addition to the time I provide you with. If you wish to pass this class I suggest you don’t leave it until the last minute. Now,” he grabs a clipboard, “You’ll be working with partners to create a display on the external elements that affect plant growth. We are beginning this early because you’ll actually be planting and recording observations on long term growth. Now the moment I’m sure you're all waiting for. Who you’ll be working with. Robin Buckley, you’ll be with Barb Holland.”

He continued listing all the students' names. You took stock of the names called and your heart sank. You kept waiting for him to say your name, your eyes pleading with him to just put you with anyone, literally anyone else. He looked up from his clipboard, “Well I guess that leaves you Ms.Ten-Minutes Tardy with… Mr. Munson.”

[vincess-princess]

in darkness shall you be reborn

Chapter 7

Word count: 3048 Warnings: mild unconsensual touching A\N: you thought this fic is dead? well i did too, but my depression said otherwise

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

This night Vince managed to get a couple hours of deep, dreamless sleep - out of sheer exhaustion, but it was better than feverish turmoil of the last night. This time he was too tired to finish what he started then, but Mick still locked the door of the galley and hung the key on a chain over his neck. Retrieving it from there was practically impossible - Mick was a very light sleeper.

Vince was roused early in the morning to help prepare breakfast for the crew. They were soon to reach Port Royal, and the anticipation in the air was almost tangible. He itched to set foot on a solid land: all the rocking that made him put so much more effort into the simplest actions like walking and carrying things was driving him insane. And, of course, getting off the ship could offer him a chance to escape. He had no idea where to go were his escape successful, but those were bridges to cross when – if – he would come to them. The pirates could as well just tie him up and throw him in the hold again, after all, and all his plans would go up in smoke.

Mick mercifully snatched the tray out of his hands when he was fumbling about with Nikki’s breakfast, probably because of the misery written all over Vince’s face. But that didn’t defer the inevitable for long: soon after breakfast Nikki went out of his cabin, red-eyed and pale like a corpse but in relatively good spirits, and joined the crew on deck. Vince, his guts twisting into a knot at the mere sight of the pirate captain, attempted to flee to the safety of the galley, but Tommy caught him by the arm and forcefully pulled back onto the bench where they had been sitting.

Slash and Duff, the most contrasting yet somehow inseparable duo Vince had ever laid his eyes upon, rose from their bench when Nikki approached them. Hardly had Vince begun to wonder why - there was enough place on it to fit a third person just fine – when Nikki climbed onto it instead and turned to the crew, looking all ready to take the floor.

“Mornin’, lads,” he said loudly and was greeted by a choir of hoarse voices. “We’re gonna reach Port Royal in three hours or so.”

Everyone knew that already, but cheered nevertheless.

“I know how much y’all miss the pubs and the whores, but we’ve gotta do the job first, y’know. So don’t wander off until all the slaves are gathered and sold. After that – go wild for the rest of the day, but only one day. I want everyone on board tomorrow morning, and whoever comes in late will be scrubbing the deck until it glows for the next week.”

The excitement dampened considerably, pirates’ faces darkened. Only one evening to let loose was definitely not enough to ease the stress of the long journey. Still, not a single soul protested, either out of great love or great fear for their captain. Vince still couldn’t determine which one it was.

“Now enjoy your breakfast and get ready to dock. Start planning how to spend your silver while you’re at it – we all have quite a bit of it now, I believe, and more will come when I close the deal on the slaves. Half a dozen more lucrative raids like these, and we might be able to give it all up for good and give our darling lady a comfortable dock to settle down until her time comes. Think of that, lads.”

A murmur of approval ran through the crew as it dispersed in different angles, and for a second Vince couldn’t help but wonder: did Nikki really held this bunch of cutthroats together solely on promises of comfortable retirement?

He didn’t get to ponder over this much, though. Nikki hopped off the bench, turning his head around, searching the deck with his eyes – and then his gaze locked on Vince and Tommy, and he confidently headed towards them. Vince couldn’t do anything but helplessly watch him approach: Tommy’s iron grip didn’t let him move away for so much as an inch. The first mate’s words said in the galley yesterday untimely came to mind. Would Nikki seek revenge for Vince not giving him what he wanted (unintentionally, but still) and painting him in the bad light in the eyes of the crew?

“Mornin’, T-bone,” he ruffled Tommy’s hair. The first mate closed his eyes and smiled; were he a cat, he would be purring. Then Nikki turned his attention to Vince. He didn’t look angry at first sight, but that didn’t mean anything. “And you, Vinnie the princess. How’d you sleep?”

The new diminutive stung even more than his other nicknames. Of course, Tommy told him Vince’s name, and of course, he immediately weaponized that knowledge, knowing full well how humiliated it made Vince feel.

“Don’t call me that,” Vince said through gritted teeth.

“Be thankful I even bothered to use your name, slave,” Nikki’s smile instantly shifted into a frown, the last word so sharp Vince flinched; next to it all the other nicknames were like wasp bites to a gunshot. Blood rushed to his cheeks, the warmth of anger in his chest so comforting, so easy to slip into Vince had to bite his lip to ground himself with pain. That was exactly what Nikki sought from him, he reminded himself, and no way in hell was he getting that. “Don’t you see your master has no place to sit? Get your ass off the bench.”

Relieved, Vince jumped at the opportunity to leave and was just about to walk away when Nikki’s arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him back. He didn’t manage to keep his balance, tripped and landed right onto a timely extended lap.

“What are you-“ he tried to push Nikki away, spurred by the sniggering and whispers coming from the crew, but the bastard dug his nails into the skin of Vince’s hips and held tight. Vince looked around helplessly, but saw only smirks and leers: the pirates openly enjoyed the show. Nikki’s eyes glinted triumphantly.

“I haven’t given you my permission to leave, have I? You will sit with us.”

“I could just sit on the deck,” Vince murmured, caving in amid the growing laughter. That was damn fine retaliation if he’d ever seen one: with one swift, artful movement Nikki sealed Vince’s status of the captain’s bitch on the ship. Protesting any longer would just prompt more mocking from the crew that already didn’t hold him in high esteem. He almost wished Nikki had violated him again instead, as long as it happened in the privacy of his cabin.

“What?” Nikki pinched his thigh. “Nah, my whores ain’t sitting on the deck as long as my lap is available. I don’t want that lovely ass to flatten out.”

“Whores get paid,” Vince said grimly. “I don’t.”

“Oh, is it so?” Nikki tilted his head. “Well, hate to break it to Your Highness, but food and water you get here don’t come for free. Neither does the sleeping place we so kindly provided you with. And if that’s not enough, there’s also the money we are going to lose on not selling you together with your crew, and believe me, that’s a debt you’ll be paying for a real long time.”

Vince figured what could an average slave cost, and the calculation filled him with resentment, spilled bitterness on the tongue. If Nikki really valued his contribution, unwilling as it was, no higher than a bowl of watery porridge and a bundle of rags, then he was really in for a long time here.

“Careful, Nik,” Tommy snickered. “He looks like he’s gonna gouge your eyes out.”

“Really?” Nikki tugged at Vince’s hair, forcing to face him, and leaned in so close their noses almost touched. “Are you, Vinnie?”

“Don’t want to get my hands dirty,” Vince replied, looking past him deliberately. “You can’t even get a proper soaking here.”

Tommy burst into laughter first, and it was so contagious that even Nikki let out a snort. Vince watched them from under half-closed eyelids. If they couldn’t comprehend the seriousness of his intentions, it was their problem, not his.

“Damn, you’ve got sharp tongue,” Nikki said when Tommy’s laughter subsided. His hand, meanwhile, was slowly but surely making its way up Vince’s leg, and it took Vince’s entire reserves of willpower to pretend it wasn’t there. “We appreciate a good joke, but you gotta be careful. Sometimes the border between a joke and an insult is incredibly thin.”

Nikki’s other hand slithered down Vince’s side until it reached the hem of his shirt, hiked it up and crawled underneath, his cold fingers stroking the skin just above the waistband of his trousers. Vince froze, heart racing, but the fingers didn’t try to advance past that. Thank God, Nikki wasn’t that perverted.

Fortunately, the captain didn’t stay on deck for much longer and soon dismissed Vince to the galley, where he spent the remaining three hours laboring over dirty dishes. The sea water relentlessly burned his fingers covered in cuts and scratches, and Mick didn’t let him use precious drinking water to wash the salt out. Vince now understood why the hands of scullery maids at the Wharton mansion were always so dry and flaky. How did they manage to do it for a pittance all day, every day, for the majority of their lives, and not go insane?

“Hey, you’re a learned man, right?” Mick asked him while rummaging in the cabinets at the corner of the galley.

“Uh,” Vince stuttered, “depends on what you mean by that. I was… let’s say, not very diligent in my studies.”

“Well damn, I’m not asking you for a philosopher’s stone or anything. Just to write some stuff down – Nikki always forgets what supplies we need.”

“That I can do.” Vince wiped his hands on a towel, grateful for a distraction. “Just give me something to write on. Wait, isn’t that a piece of my shirt?”

“Sorry, we don’t have stamped paper here, Your Highness,” Mick huffed. “Just make it legible.” He then dictated the foods they needed to stock up on. None of them sounded particularly delicious, but at least there would be some variety.   

“So Nikki can read?” Vince asked halfway through the list.

“No, I’m making you write this just for shits and giggles.” Mick huffed. “Of course, he can. He eats up every book he lays his hands on.”

“Where’d he learn it?”

“Well, aren’t you nosey,” Mick’s lips twitched. “Curiosity killed the cat, y’know. You might get off with just a broken nose, though. But don’t count on it.”

“Lord! Are any of you capable of holding a conversation without threats of violence? A ‘fuck off’ would suffice,” Vince threw his hands up. “I am not even curious, mind you. It’s just… there’s more to him than meets the eye. Has he ever told you about his past? A classic street beggar to ship captain story?”

“What are you driving at?” Mick turned his head abruptly, his piercing gaze sending shivers down Vince’s spine, but he pressed on.

“Don’t take it personally. I’m not trying to offend you or him. I just find it hard to believe he’s of the same sort as the rest of you. Sorry, man, but none of you are even remotely close to him in swordsmanship. I for sure am not, and I’ve been training with a true master of the craft since I was seven. His technique is mind-blowing; you can’t just pick that up in street fights, only through prolonged formal training. Just a detail I noticed.”

Mick tilted his head and gave Vince a long, unreadable look. Heavy silence hung over the galley like a storm cloud, driving Vince more and more uneasy, but he refused to back down and drop the topic. Mick was on a losing end here in any case – it was not what he would say that mattered to Vince, but how he would say it.

Finally, the pirate spoke. “You’re more observant than you seem.”

“It doesn’t take much to see that.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Jesus, learn to take a compliment at last.” Mick finally turned his attention to the cabinet, letting Vince breathe with his whole chest again. “That’s a good trait to have. People never hide something unimportant. They also usually desperately want that something to stay hidden, no matter the cost. This might help you survive in this world, but only on one condition.”

“That being?”

“You gotta keep your mouth shut,” Mick replied sharply and slammed the doors of the cabinet.

Vince sighed. “Once again, could’ve just told me to get lost.”

“You could just as well take it literally. And I still need you to write the list.”

They had barely finished the list when Vince heard steps on the other side of the door, and his stomach sank. There was nothing particularly distinctive about them, but Vince’s sense of danger only spiked like this near one person. Nikki rapped on the door, just for the sake of it, because he barged in without waiting for a response.

“You done with the list, Mick?” he asked, picking up the piece of cloth and stretching it before his eyes. Then he frowned, brought it closer, then moved it farther from his face. It didn’t seem to help: his expression seemed just as perplexed. “Man, what the hell? I can’t make heads or tails out of this. Who wrote it?”

“Vince,” Mick pointed at him, and Vince shrank under Nikki’s vexed gaze. Why did the eyes of this man always make him feel like a butterfly on a pin in his sister’s bug collection? “Figured his writing would be better than my pothooks and hangers.”

“Not at all.” Nikki tossed the cloth back onto the counter. “It’s so ornate I can hardly make out words. Why are y’all blue bloods always trying to show off?” He shoved the cloth in Vince’s direction. “I ain’t reading that shit. Rewrite this in normal writing.”

Vince slowly exhaled through clenched teeth. His handwriting wasn’t perfect, but he liked to think of it as quite decent. Yet Nikki couldn’t leave even such a trifle untainted.

“Alright,” he said as indifferently as he could. “Let me just get my pencil.“

Then he raised it to Nikki’s eye level and pointedly broke it in half.

“Oh no!” He dropped the pieces, and they scattered across the floor. “What a pity! I don’t have any more pencils!”

Nikki’s eyes narrowed, and Mick clicked his tongue warningly somewhere behind Vince’s back. Vince belatedly realized that his spontaneous comeback, while undoubtedly effective, should have been played in public, mostly because then Nikki would be less likely to kill him on the spot, but the deed has already been done. Vince looked over him, detecting a gun on one hip and a saber on another, and wondered which one Nikki would choose to crack his skull open.

But seconds passed, and he wasn’t reaching for either. And the more he lingered, the less probable it seemed – Nikki could only grant him such a merciful death in a burst of mind-blinding rage.

“Huh. You’re getting bolder every day.” Nikki finally spoke. He sounded so unexpectedly, even unnaturally collected it was genuinely unsettling. Knowing Nikki, this lack of emotion was far more ominous than the ugliest form his rage could ever take. “We’ll have to talk about that. Not now, though. Since you just broke the only pencil on this ship, and I can’t read your scribbles, you’re going with me to Port Royal.”

Vince blinked, taken aback. Really? That was all it took to get Nikki to bring him to the shore? No elaborate plan centered around bearing humiliation through bitten tongue and gritted teeth needed-

“In a collar and leash, of course,” Nikki added with a devilish grin, ruthlessly crushing Vince’s barely rekindled hope. Getting groped in front of thirty people suddenly seemed not that bad now. Certainly no worse than being paraded around on a leash like a thoroughbred dog in front of ten times as many.

He couldn’t – wouldn’t – do it. His dignity might have been shattered and trampled and spit upon, but it was the only thing still giving him strength to resist, the iron rod that didn’t let the pirates fully bend him to their will. This move, cunning and cruel, aimed to pull it out, turn him into a doormat, meek, docile, submissive. Vince couldn’t let that happen, even with an opportunity to escape at stake.

…or could he? Could he play it out his way, pretend to succumb to bide his time, and then, when they let up on him, break free once and for all? Open resistance only invigorated Nikki’s efforts to break him, and Vince wasn’t sure how much more pressure the iron rod that was already showing cracks could still take. He had to try. Otherwise, there would be only one outcome, and he wasn’t going to like it.

Even not taking into account an opportunity to escape, a chance to leave the ship already sounded damn alluring. Vince couldn’t wait to get away from all the nauseating rocking, greasy piles of dishes, stuffiness of the galley and scorns and giggles of the crew. Granted, the main source of his misery would remain in close proximity, but it would still be a much-awaited breath of fresh air, in every sense of the word.

And Nikki was but a human. Vile and wicked, but a human nonetheless, who could get tired, sick or drunk and, as a result, loosen his guard. Besides, all humans have to relieve themselves from time to time - surely he wouldn’t drag Vince into a washroom with him? That wouldn’t be too out of character, but Vince wanted to believe he still had some shreds of decency left. Then Vince would prop the door up with a chair, and adieu!

“This wasn’t a question, by the way,” Nikki unwittingly solved Vince’s dilemma, and not in his own favor. “Get ready, we’re leaving shortly.”

[dqv-writes-stuff]

Chapter Two: Tea for Two? A Kazuha x Reader Story

A/N: Sorry for not getting this posted sooner, my entire fic was accidentally deleted. So I had to rewrite a lot of this chapter. I want to begin posting regularly once a week on Fridays at 4 PM EST. I am starting back school soon, however I will try to keep up this schedule. Hope you enjoy this chapter! 

Chapter Two

  A few days have passed since your encounter with Kazuha. Even since then, you had tried to forget him, since you were unlikely to see him any time soon. The idea of Kazuha scared you. You had never been so vulnerable in front of someone before, much less a complete stranger. 

You were arranging a bouquet of sakura blossoms and baby's breath, picking at the soft pink satin bow. One of your regular clients was getting married and had requested fifty sakura bouquets and one large rose centerpiece. This, as you can imagine, had been very time consuming, forcing you to hurry other orders in order to have ample time to finish such a feat.

It had taken all day, but you finally finished the massive haul. You were frantically double checking everything, your nail beds bitten to stubs. Your hands were shaking, so you stepped outside to smoke. You knew it was bad for your health, but it soothed your nerves. You had a furnace out back, and you used it to light your cigarette. 

You took a puff, closing your eyes, feeling the smoke fill your mouth. It sent a buzz down your spine, a rush of sudden calm spreading through you. 

It slowly filtered from your lips, making a soft, hazy trail up to the star-speckled sky. The cold night air brushed against your face, making you shiver slightly. You took another puff, watching the smoke lazily drift upwards. You melted into the wall behind you, slumping against the hard surface. 

You wanted to clear your head, to think straight for the first time all day. Your mind dwelled on him; his hands, his hair, his voice, his tears. Your breath hitched, spawning a coughing fit. You didn’t need this right now. You have a life, a career to keep up.

Clearing your throat, you stomped out the cigarette with the toe of your boot and stepped back inside to find a slip of paper on your countertop. Neatly rolled, and tied with a ribbon, the ink still fresh; ever so slightly bleeding through the parchment. It was cotton spun fabric, handmade with care, and rough to the touch. 

You unspooled the letter, and quickly scanned over its contents. It was an invitation to meet at the Komore Teahouse, the next day. You looked around, confused. It was addressed to you, but there was no signature at the bottom. Instead, there was a small poem. 

Your heart fluttered as you read the note, your fingers tenderly gripping the page. 

A swift breeze, your soft touch.

Would asking to see you again, 

Be too much? 

You showed me kindness

That I haven’t felt in years

So please meet me again,

Before I disappear.

Your heart pounded in your ears, your face flushing with embarrassment. It had to have been Kazuha who left this letter. You weren’t stupid, you could figure that much out. 

But still, you wondered. 

Why now? Was it that he was nervous or had he simply forgotten to write the letter sooner?  He wanted to see me, right? Or at least, in the deepest corners of my heart, that’s what you hoped. He had been taking up every space in your mind. He was a weed in your bed of flowers, ruining your idyllic life that you had worked so hard for. You didn’t need him right now. 

You sighed and folded the letter, tucking it into your pocket. You locked up the shop for the night and headed upstairs. You had a small apartment on the second floor, complete with a kitchen, living area, bathroom and master bedroom. Sighing, you sprawled yourself on your bed, staring up at the darkness that engulfed the ceiling above you. 

The ache in your bones was back. You could feel yourself slipping into that dark place again. Your fingers were red and raw, picked to the bone. You resisted the urge to bite at them, even though there was hardly any finger left. 

Closing your eyes, you curled up in your heavy woolen blanket and snuggled up to your pillows. Your heart thumped just thinking about him and that stupid letter he wrote he ealier

You spent the next morning tidying yourself, to meet your new friend. Could you even call him a friend yet? Nevertheless, you hurried to find the teahouse mentioned in the letter. You used to be friends with the owners, but fell out of touch over the years. Not to mention, you had to completely change your identity to evade the shogun. 

You set aside your doubts and pushed the heavy-set door open. Inside sat a tall man with hair like pale sunlight and coffee with too much creamer. A tall stature and a lean set build. His eyes were that of a pale jade stone, but rich with color. He introduced himself as Thoma, proprietor of the shop. After our short introductions and small talk, he led me to a secluded room, dimly lit with candles placed on the table. 

There he was, waiting for me, a soft smile on his lips. 

“I’m delighted you could join me.” He said in a low tone, making eye contact with the man behind me, silently directing him to leave the room.

Something was different about him. He was more put together than previously, his face was plastered with a pleasant expression that seemingly held less emotion than his vacant stare. 

You sat down across from him at a small table, which was glossy and smooth to the touch from the dark lacquer it had been dressed with. You could see your reflection in the inky surface, and quickly unclenched your jaw once you noticed it was tense. 

His demeanor warmed once you two were alone, his smile widening. He reached out and tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, which caused your heart to start beating with a mind of its own. You swallowed and reached for the menu, scanning your options. You were rather nervous, so your stomach was twisted into knots. Usually, when you felt this way, you went outside to have a smoke, but you would rather keep that little habit of yours a secret from him. 

When you looked up Kazuha was lost in thought, his eyes glazed and glassy. The anniversary of his friend’s death still seemed to hang heavy on him. You slowly extended your hand and softly grazed his hand with your fingertips, to try to snap him out of his stupor. 

He startled, suddenly red in the ears. However, he didn’t move his hand away. 

“It’s… alright. I don’t mind it, really.” He said, looking at the floor. 

The knot in your stomach loosened, and you placed your hand on his, his slender fingers interlacing with yours. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and all your words seemed to stick in your throat. 

You two made an attempt at small talk while you waited for Thoma to return. Sometime during the conversation Kazuha had begun tracing small circles on your hand with his index, a soothing gesture that finally let you relax and enjoy yourself. 

When Thoma finally returned to take your order, Kazuha tensed. The grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly as Thoma approached you. He slowly caressed the inside of your palm with his finger, sending shivers down your spine. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to concentrate on all the varieties of tea offered. 

You finally managed to decide on an herbal tea, and Kazuha chose a standard tea, nothing special added except for a squeeze of lemon. 

He smiled and leaned across the small table, gesturing for you to come close. He pressed his lips close to your ear, you could feel his breath as he said, “ You look amazing.” Leaning back with a smile, he looked abashed, but not apologetic; his pale skin tinted pink.  

Despite all of Kazuha’s shenanigans, in the pit of your stomach you still felt the gnawing urge to smoke. It was all-consuming. The tremor in your hands became more noticeable and you were picking at your fingers, to try and stop the craving. 

Not here, you thought, not now.

[buckyownsmylife]

Memory - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where Bucky's a vampire but still manages to develop a breeding kink

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, vampire!AU, creampie, daddy kink, mention of blood because of biting

A/N: this is for my darling cousin @whisperlullaby​‘s challenge, and also my own! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. I hope you guys will enjoy this silly idea of a vampire with a breeding kink 💛 I had a blast writing it! Unbeta’ed because I almost died this week and cannot be bothered to stare at my writing for any longer.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“Okay, let’s play truth or dare!” I groaned as silently as possible at the proposition. One of the downsides of dating someone in college was having to deal with the immaturity of their friends, especially when I was unable to escape yet another invitation for a weekend getaway.

There were only so many encounters a man could refuse before mysterious became annoying, and I knew I was toeing the line, even if my girlfriend never complained.

She understood just how irritating these gatherings could be to me. It would have been easy to imagine if there was a realistic age gap between us, but considering the centuries that separated our birth dates, it was laughable that anyone would entertain the idea of me with a bunch of young adults who only wanted to get laid, smoke some weed and drink their asses off.

Of course, her friends didn’t know my true age, so they only thought I was a little bit irked by their behavior. Y/N knew the truth, and so evidently she tried to get me out of it, but I resisted.

I wanted her to take part in the normal experiences people her age were having. There was already so much that she was missing out on just by being with me - and I wasn’t even referring to the blood that she granted me every night.

I’d accepted to be there with her that evening. I was going to immerse myself in the full experience, if only to learn a bit more about her and those she surrounded herself with.

Her best friend let out a little excited yell when she noticed that we were joining the circle and I forced myself to smile at her. “Alright, let’s do this.” One of the male friends rubbed his hands before reaching for the bottle, making it spin as I frowned. I thought that was a different game, but apparently I was mistaken.

It landed on a girl I had yet to get acquainted with, and so I disconnected myself from the conversation as I watched my beloved laugh and have fun with her friends. It made me feel warm. It made me grateful I had decided to join.

A few more rounds went by without anything of essence actually happening. I was about to excuse myself when the bottle surprisingly stopped while pointing at Y/N.

She gasped as she stared at the man who was responsible for deciding her fate, and I already knew I wouldn’t like what was coming next. But she was smart, so she avoided the dare that would undoubtedly enrage me, leaving her to answer a question that I also would have preferred not to hear.

“So… Y/N…” He began, taking far too much pleasure at the situation, and by the way she rolled her eyes, I knew she was thinking the same.

“Yes, Simon.” He opened his mouth to say something, but instinctively looked my way. I was trying my best not to let any emotion slip through the cracks of my perfectly constructed mask, but whatever it was that he saw seemed to make him change his mind.

He closed his mouth and frowned, for a second deep in thought, before he sighed and finally voiced his question. “Just tell us one of your kinks.”

It sounded like he was trying to get this over with, and although Y/N seemed just as confused, she cleared her throat and gave him an answer.

“Oh, I don’t know… I guess.. Creampie?” Little giggles and comments rose around the circle, but nothing really stuck out and they were quick to motion her to spin the bottle so another person could have a turn.

It was a different reaction that I was expecting, especially considering what everyone did for much tamer answers, but the explanation for the lukewarm crowd was made clear by a groaned comment from Simon to the man beside him.

“This is no fun now that she isn’t single.” A small giggle resonated by my side, and I turned in the direction it came from to find my girlfriend trying to suppress her amusement behind her palm.

“Something funny, little one?” I knew they’d take notice of the pet name, but I honestly couldn’t be bothered to even pretend to care, and the fact that she smiled openly up at me showed me that she didn’t, either.

“Not at all.” She pulled me closer to deposit a quick peck on my lips and I was sure if my heart was still beating, it would have fluttered at the way she looked at me. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

“Of course.” Thankfully, the game didn’t last much longer - for us, at least. Somehow, the bottle didn’t land on me once, and Y/N started to yawn, her head resting against my shoulder after the third consecutive “Who would you rather bang?” question.

“I think we’re gonna leave for the night,” she excused us even though I knew she wasn’t really sleepy. She really could be an excellent actress when she wanted to.

We walked up the stairs to where the bedrooms were located, quickly getting in what had been assigned as ours for the weekend. She smiled softly at me as she reached for her backpack, no doubt looking for the one shirt of mine she always slept in, but I had a few things in my mind I wanted to ask her about.

“Why do you like creampies to much?” The words spilled out at me so unusually, considering the silence in the room, it didn’t surprise me that it took her a while to answer. When she did though, I was surprised to find her biting her lip, a look between amused and horny in her eyes when she approached me.

“Dunno.” She shrugged, taking my hands in her and playing with my fingers. I knew it was a way to avoid my intense gaze. “Guess I have a bit of a breeding kink, actually. It just felt too personal to share with those guys.”

The answer took me by surprise as I stared down at her, blinking a couple of times as I made sure to really process what she had said.

“A breeding kink?” I confirmed, and she rolled her eyes in that way I knew she did when she was embarrassed but trying to play it off as annoyed.

“Yeah, you know.” She pulled away from me to sit on the bed, legs dangling off of it almost like a child. “I like the idea of being bred. Even though I’m in no way ready to become a mother,” she added in a serious tone, making sure I understood what she meant.

But I didn’t. I didn’t and I guess it was clear in my face, because she quirked an eyebrow and jumped out of the bed, coming to stand before me once more.

“Why is this so weird to you?” She inquired, head tilted in amusement. “You’re over a century old, I’m sure your expectations regarding sexual relationships were related to impregnation for most of your life.”

And I mean… she wasn’t wrong. But I hadn’t thought about that for so long, I guess it didn’t occur to me that there was an actual term for it these days.

“There’s no way you don’t have a breeding kink.” The affirmation sounded almost like a dare, so my instinct was to fight it, wrap my arms around her torso so I’d keep her close to me, but deny it.

“You know I can’t ‘breed’ anyone anymore, darling.” But she wasn’t giving up. Her fingers softly traced my jawline, eyes sparkling with a dangerous glint as she countered, “Doesn’t mean you can’t like the idea of it.”

Even though I didn’t need the oxygen, I inhaled sharply, suddenly fascinated by her every movement, the way she gently unwrapped herself from my arms to slowly unbutton her simple dress, the one she made it look like a fucking gown.

“Think about it, Buck…” Every inch of skin that became exposed to my eyes still had my mouth watering, desperate to taste her all over.

“Wouldn’t you want to see me round with your child?” The question provoked my imagination, playing with her features as I thought about what she proposed. Her breasts fuller, stomach protuberant, and maybe a little feet rubbing against the skin, something I could kiss.

“See me carry your genes, continue your lineage… Wouldn’t you want that?” Her innocent eyes spelled trouble when she stood before me again, close enough to touch.

And I couldn’t deny that the idea did something to my heart - even though it didn’t beat anymore. Most undeniably, it definitely did something to my cock, which now strained against my pants, the arousal that the image of her impregnated by me provoked bursting as I looked at the creature that I loved in wonder and fascination.

“Are you trying to tempt me, doll?” She bit on her lower lip to stop herself from giggling before I pulled it away from her teeth when I took her in my arms again, naked breasts rubbing against my shirt.

“Is it working?” She breathed out, eyes connected to mine while she tried to gather my feelings about her attempt. I pressed her body closer, making sure she’d feel the hardness in my pants before I even voiced it.

“Very well,” I whispered in her ear, enjoying the way my cold breath awakened goosebumps all over her warm skin. She never complained about the difference in temperature, something that I was profoundly grateful for, since I loved to feel her hot blood pumping underneath my fingertips whenever I trailed my digits over her flesh.

“So tell me,” she pressed, still going for seductive even though she sounded slightly out of breath, her desire evident in the way her pupils had dilated. “Would you like to breed me, James?”

A shiver went down my spine at the question and I closed my eyes for just one second, just to relish in this sensation before I opened them to confess, “You have no idea how much I’d like that.”

My hand easily spread her lower lips, middle finger running between them to test her wetness and finding her soaked, like she always seemed to be for me. The knowledge had me smiling as I lifted my hand to taste her before making quick work of my belt, observing her slowly walking backwards towards the bed as I followed, almost like there was a thread connecting us, keeping us close.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned against my ear as he buried himself inside of me and I clutched at his shoulders, desperate to feel every part of him connected to every part of me.

Only he could get me this way. Chest heaving, mouth open just from the simple act of feeling him stretching me open. It didn’t matter how many times he took me, it still burned the same - and I loved it.

“Tell me, doll,” he panted, hypnotizing eyes connected to mine, unwilling to let my gaze escape his hold. “Tell me you’d want to have my child. You’d look so beautiful with your body changing because of me, wouldn’t you want that?”

I groaned, throwing my head back as James fucked me senseless, his cock ramming against my sweet spot over and over again. He knew no mercy, I knew that. I just never anticipated to have such an overwhelming reaction to a silly little kink I never even thought I’d ever get to explore.

“Answer me, little one.” His fangs came into play then, piercing around the nipple that he sucked, galvanizing me into actually responding, “I would, I would, daddy,” while pulling on his hair without even realizing.

He let go of my breasts to look at me with dark eyes - not because he had come in contact with my blood, oh no. It was clear that this was the reaction to the name that escaped me so easily, waving its way into him until it broke the last bit of his control and left him completely undone, only determined to fuck me.

I watched him lick his lips before he ordered, “tell daddy you want his cum inside of you.” Hearing him acknowledge this other secret kink, refer to himself as it had me delirious, unable to formulate any words to obey him, so I opted to hide my face in the crook of his neck, hoping the feeling of my burning cheeks would satiate him.

What a mistake.

“Oh, so now you’re shy?” He mocked, rubbing his jaw against my cheek as I whined against him. “Want daddy’s cum so much but can’t be a good girl and beg for it?”

I came with a long drawn-out gasp right then, my body twitching underneath his as his cock dragged along my walls once, twice, a third time until it spilled his cum inside of my channel. The act was so hot to me that it had me pulling on his hair, whispers of “I love you, I love you,” tumbling out of my lips.

He silenced me with a kiss, still managing to keep on thrusting until I had to push him away because of my sensitivity.

“Spread your legs for me, little one…” He ordered, brushing his tongue over his lower lip in contemplation. “Let me see the mess I left there.”

I was still a bit nervous about the whole ordeal now that the wave of horniness had left me, but I did eventually spread my legs for him, whimpering as he bit down on his own lip at the sight of his spent dripping from my abused pussy.

“Oh, you look so good like that, darling.” I could barely contain my giddiness as he laid down by my side and pulled me to rest on his chest, pressing a kiss to my temple while he caressed my arm. “But one question remains unanswered.” To my almost sleepy hum, he proceeded, “Why do you like the idea of breeding so much?”

That got me thinking, wiping the tiredness off of my muscles like a bucket of cold water. It felt weird to admit it, but at the same time, I wanted nothing more than to bare my soul to the man I loved, to have him aware of every little thing about me…

So I admitted, “I like the idea of being yours… in this very scary, slightly territorial way.” At his silence, I giggled, hiding my face on his chest as I waited for his response.

“But you are mine,” he reminded me, and even as I rolled my eyes, a silly smile painted my lips, loving that he felt like he needed to tell me that.

“I know I am,” I recognized. “It’s just another way I’d like to be claimed by you. Besides, I can just imagine how well you’d take care of me…”

Silence filled the room as we both got lost in the images of what could never be. Me with a fully-grown belly, walking like a penguin as he held up tiny onesies that looked ridiculous in his huge hands.

My heart ached for what could never be, surely, but I couldn’t really grieve a future I’d never have while I was so happy with the man who wanted to give me one.

“I’ll always take care of you.” He kissed the back of my hand, and even though he knew it wasn’t exactly what I meant, it was just enough. “I’m sorry that I can’t ever give you children.”

The guilt in his tone was almost palpable, and I wanted to do anything in my power to make it disappear. This wasn’t what I intended when I shared my sexual fantasies with him. They were just that - fantasies. I wouldn’t trade my reality for any alternative version the universe could offer me.

“It’s alright, babe,” I assured him, depositing a kiss on his chest, right where his heart would be beating for me if it could. “I think the way you want to claim me is just as territorial… and much more final.”

Bucky held me close, breathing me in - even if he didn’t need to do that to survive - before he asked me the last doubt that still hovered in his mind.

“Aren’t you scared?” And as I laid there in his embrace, feeling loved and cared for, I knew the only acceptable answer that I could give him was, “It’ll be worth it.”

[ack3rlady]

Happy Birthday, My Love

Summary:  Everyone helps Levi prepare for your birthday!

Notes: Angst/Comfort, Post War - Spoiler Free, Character death.

Word Count: ~900

Master List

Levi cringed a little when he saw his reflection in the mirror. It had been a year since the war ended. But he couldn’t seem to get used to his appearance. He was no stranger to scars. But the ones on his face were ugly reminders of the bloodshed from his past that he was desperately trying to forget.

Two hands made a splat sound on his head, making him flinch once again. Gabi’s reflection appeared behind his own, her eyes enlarged to twice their size as she furiously tried to set his hair with something called ‘hair gel’ that Marley manufactured. An alarmed Falco fruitlessly tried to slow her down, afraid that the stoic man would lose his temper at her. But Levi was cool as a cucumber, since today was a special day.

After spending a small eternity trying to tame the one stray lock of midnight hair that wouldn’t budge, Gabi finally gave a nod of approval to Levi’s new sleek hairstyle once it joined the rest of his strands being his ears. Falco then carefully helped him slip on the charcoal grey blazer and topped his head with a matching fedora, that was a gift from you when you first visited Marley. Levi couldn’t help but wonder how the two teens’ personalities were poles apart from each other.

The strange but fragrant perfume that Connie sprayed on his clothes made his eyes water. Jean assured that it wouldn’t make him go blind in his remaining eye. The sheer chaos inside his tea-shop was striking down the bars of his patience one by one; only the thought of seeing you soon keeping him sane.

The bell above the front door of the shop chimed when Armin and Annie walked in with a bouquet of fragrant red roses that they knew you would love, and handed them to the former captain. Armin’s cheery face always calmed Levi down, much like the thought of being in your company soon.

The couple was shortly followed by Onyankopon who entered holding a powder-blue box in his hands. That would be your favorite cake from the bakery down the street. He held it open before Levi, showcasing the words ‘Happy Birthday’ delicately piped on top of the decadent chocolate cake in vanilla icing. He nodded in approval, giving a gentle pat to his friend’s arm.

Levi was relieved. Everything was going just as he planned. Everyone showed up on time and fulfilled the duties he had meticulously delegated amongst them to make your birthday special. He had been eagerly waiting for this day for weeks, planning out each and every detail of how he wanted the evening to go. He couldn’t wait to see you. All this excitement was condensed into the smallest upward curve on his lips, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn’t paying attention.

Finally, Mikasa’s figure appeared hurrying down the stairs, ready to take the man to the woman he loved. Reiner and Pieck stayed back with the kids for they had been assigned the Herculean task of not letting Gabi and Falco burn the tea-shop down in Levi’s absence. Just as they were about to leave, Historia stepped before them to straighten up Levi’s bow tie. Everyone was beaming at him as he waved them goodbye.

Mikasa wheeled him through the busy streets of Marley’s market, where his gaze wandered from store to store in search of the perfect gift for you. A shiny moon stone necklace caught his eye. Its features were soft, and delicate, just like yours. What better gift for you than the stone that stands for all things serene, mirroring the effect of your presence in his life.

Now it was finally time to see you. Mikasa finally wheeled him over to the spot where he met you every weekend. She helped him spread out the red and white checkered blanket on the lush grass, and arranged the cake, and bouquet on it along with smoked salmon sandwiches and the flask of black tea that she packed for the day. She helped Levi sit down on it before leaving with the promise of returning in a couple of hours to pick him up.

He neatly organized the sandwich squares on a plate, and poured out two cups of steaming black tea, one for you and one for him. He then fished out a small pack of birthday candles that Connie harshly shoved inside his blazer’s pocket just before they left, and lit them over the cake. He finished setting up just as the sun began setting over the horizon.

“Ahh. Just in time. You know how much I love watching the sunset with you. Reminds me of the good old days. Well, just the old days.”, he smiled.

Levi gathered the roses that Armin and Annie so lovingly bought, and laid them before you. He then picked up picked up his cup of tea and clinked it against the weathering granite. He scrutinized the stone, brushing away any dust that was beginning to collect within the letters engraved on it. His gaze ran over your name etched into the stone.

‘Beloved Wife

Ours is a love without an end.’

He gingerly ran his fingers over the letters, a lone tear escaping his eyes shone like a gleaming pearl rolling down his cheek. Just then, a gust of wind blew the candles out, bringing the smile back to his face.

“Happy birthday, my love.”, he whispered.

A/N: Wrote this on a whim. Sorry I keep killing the reader off in all my fics lately 😅 I may or may not be PMSing. 😅

[stickynotestoletters]

may i ask for some poly relationship w larry & sal x male reader hcs?

Ah! Of course! :) Sorry I've been taking so long school is getting to me cause of finals;-;

Warnings: Noncannon compliant (their parents aren't together, no one dies, etc), NSFW (implied teen NSFW otherwise they're out of highschool), no weird cult stuff but they still ghost hunt, more modernish (?) phones and stuff

Sal x Male Reader x Larry hcs

highschool

I think that Sal and Larry would have gotten together before you got there

Like, I say gotten together but the way they started it was literally best friends that were super hornknee and decided to have sex together

They started then developing romantic feelings for each other though

And although the sex dynamic wasn't perfect (refer to my Sal x reader NSFW fic) it was good and they loved each other

It became an on and off thing until they actually worked it out

they talked about it and decided that it was better that they stay friends until they can sort out their own sexual desires and endeavors

Sal didn't even know he could do both as a switch and verse so he wanted to just re-examine his sexual self

And Larry was okay with that

So they decided to date but just without sex for a while

Then you moved to Nockfell their sophomore year

and god were you cool

Sal was the first one to see you in the hallway

It wasn't love at first sight really

He thought you were cool and he wanted to talk to you

Then that same day he told Larry about you during lunch

"I want to talk to him I just don't know how to approach him"

"Oh, well who is it?"

Ngl Larry was kinda jealous about how flustered Sal was getting at the prospect of a new friend but then Sal pointed at you and Larry was like "Oh, okay, I get it."

So Larry just approaches you

It was kinda to tease Sal about how shy he was being

Also kinda because you looked rad as fuck

So Larry approaches you sitting at a table alone

You were actually quite chill

You were happy since no one was approaching you

You guys hit it off and ended up becoming really good friends!

So for the duration of your sophomore year and the summer of your junior year, you guys were really good pals and hung out a lot

Then Larry started developing feelings first

And he was super confused since he knew he still liked Sal, no doubt about it

So he was just super confused and conflicted because he didn’t want to break up with Sal

So during, about the first half, of all of your junior year he kept this to himself and tried to keep himself from feeling for you

Sal on the other hand already accepted his feelings, he realized it later than Larry

And he read yp on what being polygamous meant

So although there was a lot of confusion at first he figured it's no different from people in love triangles

He realizes it a couple weeks after Larry and decides to bring this up to Larry during winter break

The conversation pretty much just went like Sal explaining polyamory to Larry for an hour

They end up deciding to just wait a bit and try to flirt with you individually

you know,

because they don't remember that you don't know they're attracted to you at this point

:)

So basically you think that they're both trying to cheat on each other for the week they're flirting with you

At the end of that week, you tell them to meet you together

And they don't know any better than to meet you

And then you come to them, don't let them explain, and cry because you don't want two of your best friends to cheat on each other like this even though you like them

And then they realize why you're saying this

So although this was not the time they expected to confess to you they told you what they were trying to do

So you just sat there

With these two idiots

and told them "No guys, cause I was literally having a breakdown about losing my two best friends."

And they confess to you

and everything is emotional and raw and you accept

Your guys' dynamic doesn't change because you’re dating now

The only difference is you guys make out together and show lots more pda

although you always bring up what they did when they were trying to give you hints

"We just really wanted to flirt with you okay??? Is it such a crime to want your crush to fall for you???"

"When you guys don't explain you're looking to expand your relationship, yes. Yes, it is Larry."

"He's kind of right babe-"

"SAL-"

Y'all spend a lot of time communicating with each other on stuff like that now

Your senior year goes without any bumps between all of you and you then graduate

College Dynamic

so you and the gang (except Ash, she moves to the city of course) goes and makes a college house

once you all move in together there it's a new routine

You all agreed and talked about the move together and what it would entail

And then you all finally realized how different it was from a monogamous relationship it was

But you all had your learning curves within the relationship

You find out more about their dynamic as a couple

For example, Larry and Sal never liked to fall asleep without you anymore

They had trouble sleeping without you beforehand and the first time you all slept in the same bed together it was just... so... peaceful

They'll spoon and cuddle without you individually (Sal is always the big spoon with Larry)

but they just love falling asleep next to you

They also refuse to do homework without you there

Even if it's just the simplest this they're just gonna need to have you in the room to finish it

Sal likes to make songs about you guys

He records them and edits some but he never lets you two listen to them

"It's just embarrassing if you two were to listen to it. It's like confessing my love for you guys all over again except I can't hide behind the mask."

So until he decides to release his songs online or plays those at gigs he's never going to let you listen to them

Larry likes to paint you guys

His paintings of you before the "disaster confession" were okay, it just looked like he was making a painting of a friend, except for the occasional rose

But now he paints you and draws you two whenever he can

He finds it funny how flustered you and Sal get whenever he makes suggestive paintings or sketches of you two

One time he painted a whole sex portrait of you and Sal together (A 12 by 28 specifically) hung it upright in front of the door to your rooms and didn't tell anyone

So after you and Sal got home that day you were welcomed with Larry lounging on your bed with the giant picture of you fucking Sal next to him

It was definitely beautiful though, even if it's hard to call your nudes beautiful

"Larry Johnson, this painting, as always, masterful. Beautiful craftsmanship but please-" "-we mean this in the most loving way possible Larry-" "-STOP PAINTING OUR NUDES BABE"

He put it away to be hung up in your apartment for when you all move out

Non-College Life

Once you all finish college you guys move into an apartment outside of Nockfell

The minute after you and Sal leave to get food Larry puts up all his private paintings of you guys

It's funny to him

I imagine you guys moving to a really populated city

Somewhere where it's a good place for people wanting to have creative jobs but still close to Nockfell

Maybe not back to New Jersey but probably not as far as New York or LA

you guys do all the cute stuff you never got to in Nockfell together

It's not like the majority of Nockfell was homophobic, mostly just the people who went to the church

But a lot more of them didn't think that polyamory was possible

So now it's easier

It's not like you never experience any polyphobia anymore but it's easier because you're in a more open-minded place

Sal's favorite thing is to go to concerts now

And pride

He also likes coffee house dates too

Larry gets hit on a lot though whenever you guys go out anywhere though

He finds it funny how jealous you both get

Sometimes if he wants Sal to get really mad he'll play along

But most of the time he shuts it down before it begins

Sal gets hit on a lot at concerts the most though

He gets kind of awkward about it, he's not going to edge them on but he gets uncomfortable enough to just not know how to shut them down

Usually, you and Larry will just appear behind him and whisk him away

Larry likes to use it as teasing leverage for a good rough one that night but you usually make sure he's okay with it before Larry does anything

You get hit on the most casually

Here and there but there aren't really specific places

It just sort of happens

You mostly shut them down alone

But occasionally you'll have to go to Sal and Larry if they're persistent

And they'll be mean too

One of the first times you saw Sal and Larry ever legitimately get that mean was when you got hit on in a club and they both just pulled you behind them and absolutely ripped the person a new one

You guys really like to stay at home if you guys have dates though that way everyone feels included

But when you all do go around together it's always specifically for three people you never tell anyone it's a date for dinner reservations, you always make sure you go on rides everyone wants to go on at amusement parks, and hey if worse comes to worst smoking is a group activity (if you have asthma or any other breathing condition Larry makes you edibles if you really wanna do edibles with them)

Starting jobs there are tough and all but you make it off your feet

Sal ends up booking a lot of gigs and Larry's commission request skyrocket when he moves to the city and makes a blog about his art

You all get an apartment with affordable rent and one that allows Gizmo

I hc that Gizmo is an esp but I don't know if that's real

So regardless you'll still be able to have room for him

Sal proposes to both of you

You guys talked about marriage and decided that it would be easier legally to just not get married through a court

So you guys have a friends wedding and Gizmo is the ring bearer

You guys don't get a fancy venue or anything

You guys all just have a city wedding

NSFW

So, the first time you all decide to hook up it's mostly just very communicative rules beforehand

Sal is more comfortable with being fucked than fucking someone else at most times but "It's not like I never want to stick my dick in you two" as he puts it

He also likes background music on most of the time

It's kinda weird if there isn't just a little bit of music

It isn't really bothersome, you guys keep it below 20 at most times

Sal's also super submissive

He liked it rough, make him cry out for you two

A bit of a pillow prince

Especially enjoys being tied up by you two

gags and blindfolds are on the table

Although whenever he does feel up to fucking you and Larry he'll usually end up having you two ride him because he gets to be such a mess with you two unless he's jealous or upset

Usually, when he's upset he's gonna lift you two up and fuck you against the headboard or wherever you two are if he's impatient enough

One time you were chilling with Larry in your bedroom and he was painting over his easel

Sal burst through the door where it slammed back on itself and closed itself

He then tracks his eyes on you

immediately asks you "Can I please fuck you right now"

and as soon as your safe word and consent comes out of your mouth he's holding you down on the bed and fucking into you so hard you can barely breath

Larry doesn't mind it and just continues painting with you moaning and being so pathetic in the background of his music

He kinda finds it funny because before you all got together and he and Larry would angry fuck it never worked out

Sal was just being a brat most of the time because Larry still wouldn't let him fuck him submissively

Speaking of which, Larry's more comfortable with being dominant, he'll bottom but only if he can still be dominant otherwise forget it

Larry's just a rough fucker anyway

He really likes pushing and holding you two up against walls when he fucks you guys

He likes showing off the muscles he got helping his mom with handy work and stuff like that

The first time he did this was to Sal when you were studying in your guy's room

You said you didn't really wanna participate today so they fucked like they would without you

And so they're talking back and forth, teasing each other

and Larry corners him

And just

lifts him up

It looked like he was just lifting a bag of sugar up

Sal seemed weightless as Larry just rocks into him

It was one of the hottest things you'd seen at the time so you joined them

You do that a couple more times but then it just becomes normal and you decide you need to start finishing all those assignments

Larry does that to you one on one as well without Sal but it happens to Sal a lot more spontaneously

Larry though is kinkier than Sal in some respects

He'll try anything at least once "Lisa didn't raise no bitch-"

He's really into breeding and long fucking sessions though

Like, lowkey he has omegaverse fantasies

Not because of the weird stuff just because a lot of the time..... they have breeding written in

He'll never admit to reading any of it but you know he has at least once

Super into dirty talk

And he's really good at it

He also had a praise kink and a degradation kin

He likes degrading you and you telling him thank you and how good he's treating a filthy little brat like you

"What're my filthy little brats good for other than sucking my dick so well. Taking me so well like the dirty little whores you are?"

"Yes sir-" "-we're made for your big cock-" "-thank you for fucking us like this-"

He especially likes breeding you and having Sal suck you off while he does it, he finds your crying cute

And an added bonus is rewarding Sal after for it

You guys talk about long-term consent and all that and decide that it's a good idea, you all trust and love each other so there isn't a problem

lol this kinda went to shit at the end but I still like it enough! Thanks for the Sally Face request I really like this game and the dynamic between a poly reader hc :)

-Laika

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 65: Question

"Uncle Harry?"

He glanced away from Rose where she was eating the grapes Harry cut in quarters and over at Teddy where he was sitting at the table eating his grilled cheese. "Yeah buddy?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," he said as he looked back at the almost 16 month old eating grapes. He still got nervous about her choking.

"Do you like Uncle Draco?"

"Yeah," Harry replied casually, glancing out of the corner of his eye to gauge Teddy's reaction. "Yeah. Uncle Draco and I are good friends."

Teddy rolled his eyes, and Harry couldn't help but wonder how the time had flown by fast enough that he was sitting at a table with a nine year old who now rolled his eye at him. "I mean do you like-like Uncle Draco?"

"Gah bah dih!" Rose shouted, banging her chubby little fists on her high chair tray.

"See, Rose wants to know too," he translated for the baby.

He sighed, "It's complicated, Teddy."

"Why?" he asked, his brow furrowing. "Uncle Draco says he likes you. Why does it have to be complicated?"

"Uncle Draco said what?" Harry asked, sure he'd misheard.

(Read more below the cut)

"He said that he likes you but he thinks that you don't feel the same."

"Thats-" Harry spluttered, "I-" he started and broke off again, "But he nev-" he huffed, catching a spoon that Rose was trying to hit Max with. "Careful, Rose," he chided gently, "We don't hit the dog."

"Uncle Haarry," Teddy groaned.

"Apparently it's a conversation that Uncle Draco and I need to have," he managed.

"But-"

Harry shook his head, "No buts. If I like Uncle Draco, he should be the first to hear it, don't you think?"

"Fine," Teddy grumbled.

And Harry spent the rest of the day thinking about what he was going to say to Draco at trivia later that night.

-------

"I hate the muggle knowledge category," Draco groaned miserably as he and Harry prepared to answer the eighth round of questions that evening. "You're completely useless at it," he added, "even though you were raised by muggles."

Harry huffed, "Well, it's not like I was allowed to live like a normal muggle." He took another sip of his firewhiskey. He should stop drinking but he was just too nervous.

"What does that even mean?" Draco asked.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head to clear away the memories which somehow served to only bring them further forward in his mind.

"Potter," Draco said, poking his arm, "What does that mean?"

He stood up abruptly, feeling small and afraid, like he'd never be good enough. All of the feelings of loneliness and unworthiness that he'd had as a child rising up like bile. It was all too much all of the sudden and the idea that Draco might actually be interested in him was utterly preposterous. "I have to go."

"What?" Draco said as Harry made for the door. "Harry!" he called.

Harry fumbled with the door handle but finally made it out onto the street, pushing his way through a gaggle of people standing outside the door smoking.

He'd walked for maybe two minutes when he heard a set of feet running up behind him and he turned, body poised to fight.

"Hey," Draco panted. "You didn't pay for your tab, you know."

"Right," Harry said, reaching into his pocket and holding out a handful of galleons to Draco.

"I don't want your money," he said, sounding offended and Harry didn't know what to do with that. "I'm just telling you why it took me so long to catch up."

"Do you like me?" Harry blurted because he needed to know, once and for all.

Draco looked confused, "Harry, we've been friends for like 7 years, of course I like you."

"No," he shook his head, "I mean do you like-like me?"

The other man paled, taking a step back from him and Harry realized that he must be thinking that Harry had run out because he thought Draco liked him.

"Because I really like you," he hastened to add. "I have for ages but I didn't think you could feel the same. How could you feel the same?" Harry whispered, more to himself than Draco. "I'm a mess," he added, "I've got ptsd from the war but I'm also like super messed up from my childhood? And I don't even understand what healthy relationships look like and how to have them," he covered his face with his hands, "I'm just-"

"Harry," Draco interrupted, his hands gently holding Harry's shoulders. "Come here," he murmured, pulling Harry in against him and wrapping him up in his arms.

Harry leaned into him.

"Okay," Draco murmured, "Deep, slow breath with me, yes?"

He nodded and mirrored Draco's breathing, feeling his heart slow as his lungs filled with air.

"There we are," Draco said softly, brushing his hands over Harry's back. "It's alright."

"Sorry," he whispered, making no move to pull away from Draco.

Draco dropped a kiss on his cheek, "There's no need to be." After a beat he asked, "Would you like to come back to mine to talk? I've got some sobriety potions and I can make us some tea."

"Do you have biscuits?" Harry murmured against his skin where he'd tucked his face in Draco's neck.

"I do."

He nodded once and Draco held onto him as he apparated. After they took their sobriety potions and made tea, Draco nodded to the living room.

Harry curled up on one end of the couch and Draco sat on the other, cross-legged and facing Harry. "So," Draco said, and Harry really dreaded the next words now that he wasn't drunk, "Who ratted me out? Was it Weasley?"

"What?"

"Who told you that I like you?"

Harry blinked, "Teddy. But how-"

"I've liked you for six and a half years and people have been telling me that you like me for at least five of them. Clearly someone must have decided to tell you, it's the only thing that could have prompted you to change."

He tilted his head consideringly, "What I said, though," he started, "Well, it's still true, even if I'm less emotional about it now. I have had several relationships flop through no fault of the men and women I've dated. I'm a mess, Draco."

"Do you imagine for even a moment that I'm not?"

Harry huffed a bitter laugh, "You're always so poised and put together. You-"

"I have nightmares three times a week," Draco said matter-of-factly. "I sleep with my wand tucked under my pillow and a dim light in the corner. I see a therapist every other week. My father and I have a very strained relationship because he doesn't approve of me being gay. And," he added, "I haven't had a successful relationship ever."

Harry stared at him for a long moment.

Long enough that Draco started talking again, "I'm a lot. Even on my best days and I would drive you roun-"

Harry interrupted him by leaning across the sofa and kissing him once softly to stop the words coming from his mouth. "You are amazing," he breathed. When he pulled back he said, "If you're okay with me not being perfect, I would love to try."

"Really?" Draco whispered.

Harry nodded, "Really."

And in the end, it was their imperfections that made the other love them all the more.

-----------------

Day 64: Shower | Day 66: Bond

So confession: this was not the fic I started writing for this prompt. But that one is already over 4000 words and it's like halfway done, so it's not making the cut tonight. I think it's actually going to end up being multiple chapters, I'll add a link in here when I've finished it. (I say this to apologize that this one is so rushed!)

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

hear those bells ring: chapter 3 (a deaf!bakugo x reader fic)

Summary: Bakugo wakes up with his hearing and a bunch of questions.

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader; Katsuki Bakugo x You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood, descriptions of gore, and adult language.

A/N: Sorry for the wait on ch 3, I had to work over the weekend. Anyway, hope you enjoy! 

~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here

Bakugo woke up confused, disoriented, and pissed off. 

He bolted upright, the taste of smoke and ash still on his tongue, but when he whipped his head from side to side, there was no fire, no burning asphalt, no villain, only the empty, dark expanse of his apartment. 

But something was still tugging at him, fucking incessantly, and it took him a moment to realize it was his phone alarm. 

Red eyes flicked to the device on his bedside table, and even though its continuous siren was like nails on a chalkboard, Bakugo found himself unable to move, unable to stop it. 

Because he could hear the alarm. Clearly. Loudly. 

He hadn’t been able to hear his phone alarm in weeks, not really. It was nothing more than a muffled tone that petered out toward the end as it rose in pitch and frequency. Thankfully, Bakugo’s internal alarm got him up most days around the sun, but he’d been late to morning patrols a handful of times. 

But now… 

Numbly, Bakugo finally reached out and tapped his phone. His ears rang slightly in the ensuing silence, but it was barely perceptible, nothing like the perpetual buzzing he’d been living with, like a hive of bees had taken up residence in his head. 

The quiet, after so long, was almost… unsettling. 

And it was all because of that woman. He was sure of it. 

Bakugo pressed his lips into a thin line as he thought about you, the memories of last night flooding back. The blurry image of your face, crouched over him, splattered in a thin mist of red blood and dusted with white plaster. He couldn’t remember much from right after he blasted that villain into the fucking dirt. He remembered the feel of glass breaking around him, and pain, a lot of fucking pain, but then it was black until you appeared. When he’d opened his eyes and met yours, he recalled thinking he should be in more pain, but then you spoke to him and derailed all coherent thought. 

Because he’d heard you. Clear as fucking day. 

That immediately drew his attention, and so did the blood all over your hands. 

There was a lot of it. Way too fucking much for nicking yourself on some glass or whatever bullshit excuse you gave. And Bakugo knew it was bullshit. You weren’t a convincing liar. Well, maybe to some idiot extras you would be, but not to him. He clocked the way you stuttered, the way you fidgeted and averted your eyes. And when you looked at him… fuck, your face was so goddamn guilty. 

Why, he had no idea. 

But he did know one thing. 

You had a healing quirk. There was no other explanation. 

Even if he hadn’t just miraculously recovered the hearing that a doctor told him he would never get back, there were a lot of other little discrepancies. His left arm, for one. Bakugo remembered how it felt when the villain’s asphalt wrapped around his limb, the burning, scalding agony of it. But now, the skin was just pink and barely blistered in some places. 

Then there was the blood. 

When he’d gotten home after ditching the crime scene, Bakugo had immediately beelined for his bathroom to take a shower. But, when he stripped off his hoodie, he realized it was heavier than it should be right before he noticed it was dripping onto his floor. Dripping blood. Without thinking, he’d wrung the hoodie out on the bathroom floor, and a fuck ton of red liquid seeped out of it. 

He had immediately dropped the jacket and started scanning his body in the bathroom mirror, but besides the shallow gash on his abdomen, the burned arm, and a few other minor scrapes and bruises, he was uninjured. 

But… his back was coated in red, and so were the seat of his dark jeans and boxer briefs. It was almost like… he’d been lying in a pool of blood. 

So, you had to be a healer. You just had to be. 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to confirm this since the cops had been circling you like vultures. He also hadn’t wanted to be bitched at by any more heroes, or the fucking media, so he made himself scarce. 

But he needed to see you again. Needed to hear the truth from your own mouth. 

And maybe he could coax you into a deal. 

The doctor Bakugo spoke to yesterday obviously hadn’t known what the hell he was talking about. He had made it sound impossible to fix the blond’s ears, and yet you’d somehow done it easily, in the middle of a fucking battlefield. 

With that kind of power, Bakugo wouldn’t have to worry about going deaf or designing stupid hearing aids with some company. 

With that kind of power, Dynamight would become Japan’s Number One Hero in no time. 

But first, he had to find you. 

Resolved, Bakugo shoved the covers off and slid out of bed, but before he could make it to his bathroom, someone started knocking on his front door. 

No, not knocking. Banging. It sounded like they were trying to break the fucking door down. 

“Bakubroooooooo!” 

“Gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Bakugo grumbled as he padded to his front door. He was only dressed in boxer briefs, but that’s what the idiot got for barging over so early in the damn morning. 

The banging persisted, growing louder and more fervent. 

“I’m fuckin’ comin!” the blond shouted just before he undid the deadbolt and wrenched open the door. 

Eijiro Kirishima, dressed in his Red Riot costume, blinked on the other side of the threshold, his fist still raised to knock. 

“What the fuck, bro?” he asked after a moment of just staring at Bakugo. 

The blond immediately scowled. “That’s my fuckin’ line. What are you doing breaking down my door at six in the damn morning?” 

“Excuse me?” his patrol and agency partner scoffed. “I’m obviously coming to check that you’re not dead since you’ve been MIA for over twenty-four hours.” 

“What?” Bakugo frowned. “I saw you yesterday morning for patrol.” 

“Noooooo,” Kirishima drawled like Bakugo was a particularly stupid child. “That was two days ago, bro. Then that night, I see you all over the damn news, and no one could get ahold of you all day yesterday. I would have come to check on you sooner, but I’ve been having to play damage control with the media because someone decided to blow up a residential neighborhood.” 

“Two days?” Bakugo echoed with a furrowed brow. He’d slept that long? 

“Have you been passed out this whole time, dude?” Kirishima groaned as he shouldered his way into the apartment. “I guess that means you got none of our messages?” 

“Our?” the blond grumbled as he closed the door and followed the redhead to the kitchen bar. 

“Yeah, Denki, Mina, Sero.” Kirishima waved his hand dismissively, marching over to the counter where Bakugo kept the fruit and selecting an apple from the wire basket. “I even asked Izuku to message you, just to see if he’d actually get a rise and response from you.” 

“I don’t need stupid Deku knowing about my problems, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo growled before he stomped over to his fridge to see what he had to eat because he was suddenly starving. 

“Well, that would imply I know your problems, Oh Great Lord Dynamight,” Kirishima snorted and took a bite of apple. “So, what the fuck happened the other night?” 

“I blew up a residential neighborhood,” the blond deadpanned as he turned on his stove, cracking a few eggs into a skillet. 

“Yeah, I saw that. I was more wondering about what led up to it.” 

“What the fuck do you think led up to it?” Bakugo snapped, rummaging through his cupboard for seasonings. “I was walking home from getting a drink, and a damn villain just popped up in front of me.” 

“From what I heard, there were other heroes there, too,” the redhead mumbled around another bite of apple. 

“Yeah, fuckin’ useless extras,” Bakugo sneered as he started to whisk his eggs with a pair of chopsticks, throwing in some leftover white rice and a bit of nori. “They obviously weren’t getting anywhere, and the bastard was tearing up the street, so I stepped in.” 

“To finish destroying the street?” Kirishima cocked an eyebrow, chewing noisily. 

“Fuck off,” the blond said with an eyeroll. 

Internally, though, Bakugo knew the redhead was right. He’d been sloppy, careless, probably still borderline drunk. But he’d just been so angry about the doctor’s appointment, his fucked-up ears, his bleak and silent future. He had just wanted to break something, hurt someone, consequences be damned. 

Except now the consequences were catching up to him. 

Fuck, he didn’t even want to think about what his citizen’s approval rating must be now. 

Silence stretched between the two pro heroes for several long minutes, in which Bakugo finished making his breakfast and Kirishima finished gnawing on his apple core. The blond quickly shoveled a few bites of eggs and rice into his mouth, but his scarlet eyes kept flicking over to the redhead. 

“How bad?” he finally asked. 

Kirishima, to his credit, had learned how to translate Bakugo’s curt grunts years ago. 

“Actually, if I’m being honest, it’s not that bad,” he sighed, tossing the apple core in the trash and scratching at the back of his head. “Could be worse. From the reports I read, most of the damage—besides the road—is superficial. Broken windows, charred and peeling paint, a few busted cars that we’re still trying to figure out if our insurance or the city’s will pay for. It also helped that you saved two people. That definitely softened the blow.” 

“Two?” Bakugo mumbled around one of his last bites. “I just remember the stupid extra on the street that I shoved out of the way.” 

As the memory flashed through his mind, Bakugo frowned. He’d shoved that extra out of the way and got snatched by a giant asphalt hand for his troubles. The blond’s red eyes dropped to his pink and blotchy left arm and then trailed over to his chest. He recalled the sensation of his ribs snapping under pressure, but now only a mild soreness lingered after he took a deep breath. Yet another inconsistency… 

“Yeah, two,” Kirishima said and drew Bakugo out of his thoughts. “Do you seriously not even remember your own heroics? And that girl had such nice things to say about you, too.” 

“Girl?” Bakugo snapped his head up. “The girl whose… apartment I fell into?” 

“Crashed into, dude,” the redhead snorted, but then he narrowed his eyes as a sly smirk tugged at his lips. “But yeah. Sounds like you remember her, huh?” 

Bakugo didn’t like the smug look on his friend’s face. 

“I remember her fuckin’ yellin’ at me.” The blond scowled. “Like I wrecked her place on purpose and didn’t just save her whole block from a lunatic.” 

“I mean, to be fair, if you crashed into my house, bro, I would have yelled at you, too.” Kirishima grinned. “But don’t worry, she’s fine. In fact, when she called the agency yesterday, she asked for you specifically.” 

“She did? Why?” Did she want to confess her healing quirk? Fuck, were there side effects Bakugo didn’t know about? 

“Bro, seriously.” Kirishima rolled his eyes. “You’re Japan’s Number Two Hero, and you saved her life. And, like Mina keeps telling you, you’re not as ugly when you stop scowling.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugo flipped him off before he went to dump the dishes in the sink. 

“Yes, dear.” The redhead smirked. “But, in all seriousness, she called to figure out how to file a claim with our insurance. Or at least that’s what she said, but she also asked how you were doing, and she actually sounded genuinely worried.” 

Worried that a random side effect was going to kill him? Or worried that he would say something about her quirk? She’d obviously hidden it for a reason, tried to lie for a reason. 

And Bakugo was determined to find out just what that reason was. 

“Yeah, well, I’m fine,” he grunted as he rinsed off his plate and put it on the drying rack. “Just a few scrapes and bruises.” 

“I can see that,” Kirishima said as he eyed the butterfly stitches stretched across the gash on Bakugo’s abdomen. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t find you dead in a pool of your own blood. That woulda been a real bummer way to start the morning.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugo muttered before he averted his eyes to the living room window across from him. “So… what did you tell her?” 

“The girl?” 

“No, you’re fuckin’ mom,” the blond scoffed. 

“Oh, speaking of moms, you might want to text Mitsuki. I called her last night after you ignored my billionth text, so she’s probably going crazy wondering where you are.” Kirishima grinned and then immediately dodged out of the way as Bakugo hurled a fork at him. 

“You bastard!” Bakugo hissed. “Now, I’m going to have to see that hag this weekend or she’s gonna fuckin’ barge over here.” 

“Maybe you should turn the ringer up on your phone.” The other hero shrugged, ducking again when Bakugo chucked an apple in his direction. 

The blond scowled at his friend, but he didn’t reply. 

If you and your quirk were the real deal, Bakugo wouldn’t have to worry about missing a call ever again. 

When Kirishima realized the projectiles had stopped, he popped his head over the back of the couch and smirked. “But to answer your previous question, I told the girl we would handle the insurance claim on our end if she sent us her info. And I didn’t really have anything to tell her about you since, like I’ve said, I thought you were dead. Kinda. I was at least thirty percent sure.” 

“Have you filed the insurance claim?” Bakugo asked. 

“No.” Kirishima shook his head. “She hasn’t sent in the info yet.” 

“Well… we should go get it from her.” 

This caused the redhead’s eyebrows to shoot up into his hairline, and the surprise on his face quickly made Bakugo backtrack. 

“I just… want to get this shitshow over with,” he grumbled as he averted his eyes again, but he could feel a traitorous heat crawling across the bridge of his nose. “The longer her apartment’s all fucked up, the longer the press is gonna rake me over the coals. The hero ranking’s aren’t far off, and I’m not going to lose to Deku again over some stupid broken windows.” 

“Righttttt,” Kirishima drawled, but his tone was mocking. “Okay, well, I know the hotel the police have set her up at. After we swing by the agency, we can head that way… to get her insurance info.” 

He still sounded unconvinced and like he wanted to needle Bakugo more, but the blond changed the subject quickly. 

“Why do we have to go to the agency?” Bakugo asked, and he frowned as he glanced back at his partner. “Even if I lost yesterday, my next scheduled patrol isn’t till tonight.” 

“Oh, I know.” Kirishima nodded solemnly. “But Nao wanted to have… a word with you ASAP, if I confirmed you weren’t dead.” 

“Fuckkkkkkk,” Bakugo groaned as he dropped his head back. If there was anything Bakugo hated more than the press, it was his actual PR manager. That old hag was good at her job, which meant she was always up Bakugo’s ass about something, and he knew she was going to have a field day with this shitfest. 

“Yeah, I’d recommend coffee and preemptive painkillers before we head in,” Kirishima said. “Plus, some putting on clothes. Maybe we can stop on the way and get her something sweet as a bribe.” 

“No amount of sugar is gonna make that bitch nice to me,” Bakugo grumbled before he spun on heel and started marching to his bedroom. 

“Maybe flowers then?” the redhead shouted after him. 

Bakugo slammed the door in response. 

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

“This is fuckin’ ridiculous,” Bakugo growled around his cargo, kicking his foot out at Kirishima. “Why did I listen to you? I’ve had to go shopping twice today now.” 

“Come on,” his friend laughed as he dodged the blow, which made the bags in his arms crinkle. “You can’t deny the flowers and cookies sweetened ole’ Nao up.” 

“To you,” Bakugo muttered, shifting the package in his arms a bit. “She still yelled at me for fifteen minutes.” 

“Well, you kinda deserved i—yow!” Kirishima yelped as Bakugo kicked him squarely in the ass this time. “This isn’t helping your image, bro!” 

“No one even knows it’s us,” the blond hissed. 

“Yeah, I guess the hoodies and sunglasses help,” the other pro hero mused. 

“And the fact that we’re carrying all this stupid shit.” 

“It’s not stupid.” Kirishima frowned in that earnest way of his, which made Bakugo roll his eyes. “It’s thoughtful to bring gifts to people who are having a difficult time. Especially when you made that time difficult. You basically kicked her out of her house, dude, not to mention her shop.” 

A wave of guilt actually washed through the blond, which he didn’t like. It made his throat feel tight and his stomach churn, and he glanced away from the redhead with a scowl. 

“Tch.” He clicked his tongue. “It’s not like we aren’t gonna pay for it.” 

The excuse felt flat, even to him. 

“Still,” Kirishima said as he shifted the bags in his grip, pulled out his phone, and consulted the map. “It must be stressful. So, we’re going to be nice to her, alright? Which starts with the gifts.” 

“And how is a fuckin’ fruit basket supposed to help?” Bakugo asked as he glared around the overflowing mound of crinkling plastic and bright fruit that he held against his chest. 

“Uh, one, it’s practical. Her apartment’s all fucked up, the power’s probably still out if not inconsistent on the street, and she’s been living in a hotel for two days, so she probably hasn’t had some nice fresh fruit in a while. And two, it looks nice!” 

“We coulda just left this shit at the hotel,” Bakugo grumbled. “She has to go back there eventually, right?” 

After old Nao chewed his ass out, Bakugo and Kirishima had gone to the hotel the police said they’d put you up in. Except you weren’t fucking there, and the number you left with Kirishima when you called the agency was going straight to voicemail, so here there were, fucking trekking through the city with a bunch of useless shit. 

Bakugo just kept reminding himself it would be worth it when he got the truth about your quirk out of you. 

“Nope,” Kirishima said and drew the blond out of his thoughts. “The city only pays the first two days after an emergency, unless the villain caused all the damage, but, uh, that’s not the case here, so we’ll be accommodating her until her apartment gets fixed up.” 

“At the agency?” Bakugo asked as his red eyes clicked over to his partner. 

As the Number Two and Three Heroes, the two of them had built a solid agency together. Bakugo still didn’t care for a bunch of extras riding on his tailcoats, so they had few sidekicks, all of whom reported to Kirishima and left him the fuck alone for the most part. But they owned a nice, sleek building in a nicer part of town, and one of the floors was dedicated to individual rooms with beds and other amenities. They were usually used when Bakugo, Kirishima, or the other sidekicks wanted to crash after patrol instead of going home—which Bakugo did more often than not—but they’d never had a civilian stay on the premises. 

Until now. 

“Yessssss, at the agency,” the redhead drawled as a shit-eating smirk crawled across his face. “So, you’ll be seeing a lot of her for the next couple weeks.” 

“Wipe that stupid look off your face.” Bakugo scowled and shouldered past the other hero, who snickered as he jogged to catch up. 

“Take the next left up ahead.” 

“Shut up!” the blond growled, but he followed the instructions. 

This was good news, though. Bakugo wouldn’t have to trek to this shitty part of town more than he had to. 

And he’d have a healer just down the hall. 

They marched along in silence for a few minutes, keeping their heads down, but there wasn’t much foot traffic. Bakugo was lost in his thoughts, planning out the questions he was going to ask you once he could distract Kirishima, but the redhead suddenly stopped in front of him. 

“Hey,” Bakugo grunted as the fruit basket crinkled against the other hero’s back. He hadn’t even notice Kiri get in front of him again. “What’s the damn hold up?” 

“Holy shit, dude,” Kirishima muttered, staring out at the road he’d just turned onto. 

“What?” the blond grumbled, shoving past his friend, but then he stopped, too. “Oh… yeah.” 

The street in front of him looked much worse in the bright light of midday. The road was a torn-up mess, more patches of dirt and gravel than actual asphalt. Most of the large-scale debris had been hauled away, but black scorch marks covered the sidewalks in long, dark smears. The walls of several businesses also bore charring along the facades, but most of the damage was focused in the center of the street. A crater nearly six feet deep was carved into the middle of the road, and the buildings on either side were blackened, their broken windows gaping voids. 

And then there was the hole in what Bakugo remembered as your second-floor apartment. A tarp hung over the wound, but one of the corners had come undone, flapping in the wind and giving split second glimpses into the darkened room beyond. 

Guilt crept up on him again, but Bakugo shoved it down, hunching over the fruit basket and nudging Kirishima. 

“Come on,” he muttered before he started moving forward, and a moment later he heard the crunch of boots on gravel as the redhead followed him. 

There were more people on this street than on the last several, but Bakugo could immediately tell they weren’t customers just passing through. People swept sidewalks, clearing away the last of the rubble and glass in front of their shops. Then a few old ladies stood under one awning shaking their heads, their hands laden with containers of food or gifts. 

Guess Kirishima hadn’t been wrong with this stupid idea. 

Then Bakugo realized some of those people were starting to look back at him, so he ducked his head further behind the fruit basket, grateful for his hoodie and sunglasses. 

But then suddenly he was there, standing in front of your ruined shop. His red eyes immediately flickered upward, but if there was a sign there before, it was gone now, burnt to ash. 

“What kinda shop did you say this was?” the blond asked under his breath as Kirishima paused beside him. 

“I’m… not sure,” the redhead said with a furrowed brow. “I don’t think she said on the phone. No time like the present to ask, though.” 

Before Bakugo could stop him, Kirishima shifted the bags in his arms, lifted one hand, and knocked on the charred metal frame of the front door. 

“Hello?” he called through the broken windows, followed by your name. “Anyone in there?” 

“Shit!” The squeaking voice was followed by a crashing sound somewhere in the shadows of the store. 

Bakugo didn’t speak a lot of English, but he did know curse words, and the sound of it made his lips twitch in amusement. 

“Are you okay?” Kirishima called out. “Can, uh, we come in?” 

“Yes, I’m fine!” the voice answered back in flustered Japanese. The words were fluent, though, with barely the hint of an accent. “And, um, I-I guess you can come in, but—” 

That was good enough for Bakugo. 

The blond shouldered past his partner, boots crunching over glass as he ducked into the darkened shop, and Kirishima sighed as he followed. 

The interior, if possible, looked worse than the outside. The room itself wasn’t very big, but it was a mess. Two metal rods had been embedded in the left and right walls at odd angles, obviously caused from the explosions, though Bakugo couldn’t tell what they used to be. Several pieces of blacked mannequins were scattered through the debris, and one wall was a charred mess of shelving and fabric, spots of color peeking through the black ash here and there. 

In the back, left corner were the remains of a tri-fold standing mirror, the ones where you could see yourself from different angles. Large shards of glass were missing, though, so the image of Bakugo and Kirishima standing backlit against the street was fractured. 

Last but not least, in the rear, right corner of the store was a counter that was half collapsed to the floor, behind which stood an empty doorframe that Bakugo assumed led to the back of the shop and upstairs. 

And it was from behind this broken counter that you popped up with a dustpan in one hand and a tiny, handheld broom in the other. 

The first thought Bakugo had was your face was rather plain… but in a somehow pleasing way. Like if his eyes had scanned over you in a crowd, something about the line of your jaw, the slope of your nose, the delicate quirk of your mouth would give him pause. 

His second thought was that his first one was stupid. You were just some extra, of course you would be plain and unmemorable. 

But his third thought was something about the color of your eyes was captivating, in a way that was damn fucking annoying. 

“Sorry, I was just… cleaning… up,” you said, slowly trailing off as your eyes met Bakugo’s. 

He saw the recognition flare in them immediately, followed by fear, and he couldn’t help the frown that twisted his face. 

Why were you afraid of him? 

“No, we’re sorry for barging in here like this,” Kirishima barreled on, oblivious to the stare off the other two occupants of the room were engaged in. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Oh! I’m being so rude. My name is Eijiro Kirishima, or you might know me as—” 

“Red Riot,” you breathed, finally tearing your eyes from Bakugo’s, and you flashed the redhead a half-smile that trembled along the edges. “We spoke on the phone.” 

“Yes.” Kirishima grinned, pointed teeth flashing in the dim light of the shop, before his gaze flickered over to the blond beside him. “And this is—” 

“Dynamight,” you finished once again, and you looked like you were trying desperately to maintain eye contact with the hardening hero, but then your eyes clicked back to Bakugo. You didn’t flash him a smile. “We’ve met.” 

“Oh, yeah, right,” Kiri chuckled awkwardly, and his arm jerked like he was going to rub the back of his neck, but the bags in his hands crinkled and stopped him. 

“What… do you have there?” you asked, frowning at the bags and the fruit basket the heroes were carrying. 

“Gifts!” the redhead declared as he hefted his arms up, and then he shuffled forward over charred fabric and glass and extended the bags to you. 

You blinked at him for a second, but you set the dustpan and handheld broom on the counter, where they promptly slid to the floor since the whole surface was slanted. You winced at the loud clatter and tried to cover it up by taking the bags from Kirishima, which crinkled loudly again as they transferred hands. 

Bakugo would be annoyed if he wasn’t more grateful that he could actually hear the innocuous little noise. 

“O-Oh, um, you shouldn’t have, really,” you started as you peeked into the bags, and then Bakugo swore he saw your eyebrow twitch once you saw what was inside. 

“It’s not much,” Kirishima said, and he was finally free to rub the back of his head and neck as his smile turned a little sheepish. “But, what with the state of your… apartment, we thought you might need some new clothes! And comfy clothes are the best after stressful days. These especially are super soft, we made sure of it. And, if you don’t like them, you could always sell them for a good chunk of change.” 

The redhead winked at you, not in an overly flirty manner, that was just how he was, but your cheeks flared as crimson as his hair, and your eyes dropped to the floor. 

Bakugo took the split instant to get a better look at you and noted you were wearing patched, faded jeans, solid boots, and a bleach-stained orange sweatshirt with some English writing he couldn’t read. Usually, he didn’t really see what other people wore because he couldn’t give less of a shit, but somehow he found your obvious cleaning clothes… endearing. The orange looked good on you, too. 

Fuck, maybe you didn’t heal him as well as he thought. He had to be hemorrhaging into his brain to be thinking this stupid shit. Or maybe it was a side effect of your quirk? 

He needed to get you alone and get answers. 

“Well… thank you, this was very thoughtf—oh, wow, that is soft,” you murmured as you partially drew a sweatshirt out of the bag. 

Bakugo instantly recognized the forest green and orange color scheme, and apparently so did you, because your face twitched, and you dropped the garment back into the bag and traded it for fuzzy socks with Red Riot’s signature gears stitched into them. 

“These will definitely come in handy, my feet are always cold,” you said with an awkward giggle. Then you cleared your throat to cover up the sound. “Thank you, um, Red Riot.” 

“You can call me Eijiro, or Kirishima, whatever you’re comfortable with,” the redhead said with another easy grin. “We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other, after all. Oh! We also got you a fruit basket, and I think there might be a few other sweets tucked in there.” 

Kirishima nudged Bakugo forward, and your face rippled through a range of emotions, like your brain was taking a second to catch up to everything the pro hero just spewed. First, flustered embarrassment colored your cheeks, then confusion buckled your brow, and your eyes widened before they looked at the fruit basket Bakugo was extending at you. 

“Oh, you can just put it down… um…” you trailed off as you turned to the counter and remembered it was half destroyed. Then your eyes jumped around frantically for some kind of flat surface, but the ruined shop didn’t offer any solutions. 

“Told ya we shouldn’t of brought this shit,” Bakugo grunted, shooting a scowl at Kirishima. 

“Yeahhhhh, we probably could have just delivered it to your room at the agency, my bad,” the redhead laughed. “But don’t worry, we’ll carry it back for you, along with any of your other things.” 

“My… things?” you echoed, sounding out the words like a child, and a frown marred your face. “I-I think I must be misunderstanding you, I’m sorry, I’m American. But did you say my room at the agency? As in… your hero agency?” 

“You’re American?” Kirishima asked with wide red eyes. “I wouldn’t have even guessed! Your accent is almost perfect, I thought you were maybe just from like the countryside or something.” 

“I thought you said we were supposed to be nice to her,” Bakugo snorted at his partner like you weren’t in the room, and he saw you frown at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Oh, shit, no, that wasn’t what I meant!” Japan’s Number Three Hero immediately began waving his hands in front of his face, his mouth moving twice as fast. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I really think your accent sounds nice! It’s very cute!” 

Now, not only did your cheeks flush again, but the red hue traveled down your throat and across your collarbones, peeking out the stretched collar of your orange sweatshirt. 

Bakugo found himself half distracted by the sight, but the other half was wondering why he suddenly felt irritation flare up in his gut. 

“Okay, you don’t have to take her out on a date now,” the blond snapped, shifting his burden of fruit and plastic. 

“I-I think we might have gotten off track,” you stuttered as you clutched the bag of Dynamight and Red Riot merch to your chest. “You said something about your agency.” 

“Yes, right.” Kirishima cleared his throat. “We would have mentioned this in our follow up email after you sent in your insurance info, but—” 

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry!” you cut him off with a grimace, and you actually dipped your head and shoulders into a bow. “I meant to send that yesterday, but my laptop is broken, and my cell service isn’t great—” 

“No, no, it’s fine!” the redhead interrupted this time. “You obviously have a lot on your plate. I just meant that this might seem kind of sudden, but—” 

Fucking hell, this was taking too long. 

“You’re staying at our agency until we can pay for the repairs to your apartment and shop,” Bakugo said bluntly. If he didn’t step in, the two of you were just going to stammer circles around each other all day. “Starting tonight. We have rooms with beds and shit, so pack whatever clothes or crap you need.” 

Your mouth fell open as you gaped at Bakugo. “I… what?” 

“You deaf or something?” The words rocketed from his mouth before he could stop them, before he could even think about what he was saying, and he saw the way the question struck you like a physical blow. You flinched, your cheeks paling, and he saw dawning, guilty horror glint at the back of your eyes. 

He’d been right. You did do something to his ears. 

“Bro, you were just talking about being nice.” Kirishima frowned at Bakugo before he turned back to you. “Ignore him. We’re really sorry about the inconvenience this whole… incident has caused for you, but we’ll take care of everything you need until your shop’s grand reopening, so you don’t have to worry about a thing, okay?” 

You continued to stare at the two heroes in shocked silence, your wide eyes clicking back and forth between the two of them as you clutched the bags to your chest like a lifeline. 

“That is… all so generous,” you finally breathed, your tone rising in pitch like you were growing increasingly flustered. “It’s, um, a lot to take in.” 

“Of course.” Kirishima nodded fervently. “What else can we do to help?” 

“Could you leave?” 

Bakugo blinked in surprise and then had to stifle his snort. 

“Oh, no, I’m sorry!” you quickly followed up when you saw the redhead’s falling expression. “I didn’t mean… I just meant, could I have some time to process this? Um, alone? L-Like Dynamight said, I need to pack a few things, a-and there are some people I need to speak to before, uh… well, is it okay if I tell someone where I’ll be? Like, at your agency?” 

“Yessss?” Kirishima said with a confused frown. “Why wouldn’t that be okay?” 

“O-Oh, I just don’t really know how the whole hero and media thing works here,” you quickly lied, and Bakugo clocked the way you averted your eyes, the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed thickly. “I-I wasn’t going to post on social media or anything, I barely use that stuff anyway, but one of my customers, Mrs. Kojima, would be upset if I disappeared without saying anything.” 

“Aww, that’s sweet.” The redhead grinned before he glanced at the shadowed ruins around him. “What kind of shop is this by the way? I don’t think you mentioned.” 

“A-Alterations,” you said, ducking your face in embarrassment again. “My grandparents were a tailor and seamstress. I inherited this place from them.” 

“I thought you said you were American?” Kirishima asked, but not in an accusatory way. He was just too curious for his own good and didn’t possess much of a filter. 

Bakugo usually didn’t care for small talk, fucking waste of time if you asked him, but he found himself focusing intently on you, awaiting a response. 

“I am.” You nodded. “My parents were both born here, but they moved to the States after they married, and I was born there. After my grandparents passed, my dad was going to sell the shop, but I was looking for something… new, so I decided to move here instead about a year ago.” 

Bakugo pursed his lips at this new information. If you had a healing quirk, why were you patching up clothes in some little shop all the way across the world from your surviving family? Could it be because your quirk was dangerous? 

“Wow, that’s cool,” Kirishima said with an impressed expression that quickly turned sheepish. “Except about your grandparent’s passing. My condolences.” 

“Thank you,” you muttered, a small smile tugging at your lips, but then you quickly shook your head. “I-I’m sorry, didn’t mean to give you my whole life story, I tend to talk when I’m nervous.” 

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Red Riot laughed like he did when he was meeting shy little kids on the street, flashing his sharpened teeth jokingly and winking in an overexaggerated fashion. “I promise, we look scarier than we are.” 

“Speak for yourself, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo scoffed, which made you jump, like you’d forgotten he was there. 

And that rubbed him the wrong way for some reason. 

Kirishima merely smirked before he partially covered his mouth with his hand and lowered his voice into a stage whisper directed at you. “All bark, no bite, I’m telling you.” 

“Stop making me seem lame, you bastard!” the blond growled, but the effect was kind of ruined by the fruit basket crinkling in his hands again. 

This actually seemed to startle a giggle out of you, and the two heroes whipped around, one with a grin and the other a scowl. 

“See, you don’t need to be nervous,” Kirishima said before he slung an arm around Bakugo’s shoulders. “But we’ll get out of your hair for now so you can have some time to pack and everything. Don’t worry about picking up too much, though, we’ll have cleaning crews in here before we start the remodel, and we don’t want you to get hurt in here. If there’s stuff up in your apartment that you don’t want to bring with you to the agency but don’t want thrown out, make a list, and we’ll be sure to keep everything safe.” 

“O-Okay,” you said, still standing there with the hero merch clenched to your chest and a dumbstruck expression on your face. “T-Thank you again, Red--, erm, Kirishima.” 

“Of course!” He grinned. “I have patrol tonight, but we’ll send a car to pick you up—” 

“No,” Bakugo cut in as he locked eyes with you. “I’ll pick you up. What time?” 

The blond could see Kirishima shoot him a look in his peripherals—probably because they both had patrol tonight—but Bakugo ignored his partner, maintaining eye contact with you. 

You, meanwhile, squirmed under the explosive hero’s intense scrutiny, your face paling and flushing in turns. “I… no, you don’t have to do that, I can take the train—” 

“I insist,” he interrupted again, narrowing his eyes so you would realize he wasn’t going to back down. “Like Shitty Hair said, we caused this… inconvenience, so I’ll pick you up. What. Time?” 

You swallowed thickly, your throat audibly clicking. “S-Seven?” 

“I’ll be here at seven sharp,” Bakugo said. “And you better be out front or at least answer your phone this time.” 

You better not run, he didn’t say, but by the look on your face, you understood. 

“Seven sharp.” You nodded, biting your lip as a resigned expression settled over your features. “Got it.” 

“Great. See you then.” 

With that, Bakugo turned on heel and crunched his way out of your store, leaving Kirishima stuttering apologies in his wake. 

But that didn’t matter. 

All that mattered was, tonight, he’d finally get you alone and get to the bottom of your damn quirk.

[butterysalt]

Fun | Sherlock x platonic!Reader

Pairing: Sherlock x platonic!gender neutral reader

Request ( @a-paper-cut​ ): 

Word Count: 2,202

Contains: Mentions of child abduction, platonic fluffiness and banter :)

A/N: AAAAAAA thank you so much, lovely! This was my first request and I was SUPER excited to write it hehe. I’ve been on a slight creative block lately and I enjoyed writing this so much. I hope this fic does justice for what you wanted and I hope that you are doing amazingly 🧡🧡

It was an early, snowy winter morning in London. You and Sherlock Holmes have been mind-boggled by a puzzling case for the past week. The detective proposed that the two of you go on a walk to allow some fresh air in the brains again. This suggested that even his extensive mind palace and composing weren’t helping the genius. Not that you were complaining about sharing a nice stroll with Sherlock. It had been years after all since you two had spent any casual time together. Like what people normally did in their free time, anyway.

The two of you stepped side by side, feet planting in the thin sheet of snow on the ground in unison. You grinned a little at the matched body language. You and Sherlock always had special ways to subtly communicate with one another. It was like a part of your minds were connected.

“Anything yet?” the tall brunette questioned. Your lip twitched upward. “Don’t rush the process, Sherlock. Just enjoy the moment. Live in it a little.” Sherlock’s long drawl could be heard next to you. His walking strides were growing longer as his patience began to thin out. You could practically hear the subtle gnawing of his teeth.

“We’ve only been walking 5 minutes,” you flouted, “Loosen up a bit.” Sherlock snickered to himself, messing with his gloved hands. “You’re already trying to read me?”

“You’re walking like you’ve got a stick up your arse. It’s clear you’re agitated,” you jested. The curly-haired detective sneered at you and kicked a clump of ice out of the way. “I can’t think, Y/n. We have potential homicide to solve and we’re here drudging in the snow.”

“Remember, this was your idea, genius. Unless you can come up with something else, this is all we’ve got.” Sherlock went silent, chewing the inside of his cheek. His mind wandered to try and come up with something snarky to throw at you. Perhaps a witty comeback that would leave you in doubt. The headache he was dealing with was enough to strike him in his train of thought. He shook it off and his focus returned to the matter of urgency. Unsolved case.

Sherlock lifted his face to the sky, blowing a hot cloud of breath into the chilly London air. He tugged his scarf a little closer to his neck, shoving his gloved hands down into his thick coat. The breath cloud was a common habit of Sherlock’s during cold weather. It mimicked the effect of blowing cigarette smoke, just without the tar and nicotine. Fortunately, the only time the detective abused drugs anymore was when cases had him horribly stumped; thanks to you and John’s efforts, his drug use was much more controlled now.

“Five missing children. All between the ages of 7 and 9. We know that the connection is tied to their private schools. Three different religious private schools within a 10 kilometer radius — so, fairly close together. The parents reported their children coming home with expensive gifts from a mysterious donor shortly before they went missing. They referred to the perpetrator as ‘Ray’. Anyone handing out shiny trinkets to naive children is either a philanthropist or a predator. I’d like to bet on the latter.”

You sighed, mentally reviewing all of the evidence from the case in your head. “But all of the children knew basic safety protocols: don’t talk to strangers, never accept anything from strangers, the whole package. Their parents are terribly traditional. They never would have let any of them see the light if they broke any of those rules. So the chances are near impossible that they would have fallen for such typical child abduction tricks.”

“Near impossible, L/n. That means there’s still a possibility and possible is all we need to screw this up,” Sherlock tutted. He blew another large cloud of air, shaking some light snow off his curls. You frowned, “The suspects. We’ve interrogated the popes, teachers, parents… who are we missing?”

Sherlock stopped walking. You turned to check up on him, finding him with his eyes shut. “Maybe we’re asking the wrong questions…”

“Of course we’re asking the wrong questions! We have all the pieces in our hands but no instructions, Sherlock. We’re running in circles with this case,” you walked over to a public railing, leaning against it and looking out across the long white blanket that stretched to the horizon.

He joined your side shortly after, bending down to pick up some rocks to toss down the snowy hill and watch as they made skinny trails in the frosty powder. Sherlock sighed out, exasperated and worn out. “We’re not getting anywhere by mulling over it, are we?”

You smiled at him and shook your head. You pulled your coat a little tighter around yourself. “That’s why I’m here to keep you in check. It’s good to get some air, you know? Christ knows when’s the last time you did that simply because you wanted to.”

Sherlock’s eyebrow perked up and he faced you with a blank expression. “How do you mean?” Your eyes widened a little, unsure of how you should pick out your next words. “Well… you know, you don’t exactly, uh…” Nervously, your eyes flicked up to his. He was watching your expression very carefully.

“You don’t spend a lot of time for yourself,” you said simply. Sherlock frowned in disagreement. “I spend a lot of time by myself. I thought you knew me better than that,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, leaning your back against the cold railing now, crossing your arms. “In your mind palace, Sherlock. I mean you don’t do things you enjoy.”

“Who said I don’t enjoy things?” he countered your query. You found yourself forming a cold sweat, debating on how to deliver your message. “Hobbies?”

“Violin.”

“Meh. Parties?”

“You disturb me.” Your best friend’s disgust made you cackle. “See, that’s my point! You don’t know how to have fun anymore. What happened to old Sherlock?”

Now this was a personal offense against Sherlock. “What? You don’t think I’m fun?” Sherlock sounded incredibly appalled by your claim. A hot cloud of air rose to the sky when you scoffed.

“Holmes, you are probably the farthest thing when it comes to the definition of fun!”

“Well, probability-wise, that’s highly improbable when Mycroft exists.”

“His poshness makes up for it. You’re just irritating.” Sherlock puffed out his red cheeks, nudging you playfully. “Oh, come on. You must admit that I’m at least an interesting character?”

You pondered in fake thought, scrunching your face together. “Interesting is debatable. Fun? That’s foreign territory, Sherlock.” The tall man grimaced deeply at your bluntness that he clearly had issues with. “What do you mean by ‘Old Sherlock’? What was good about the ‘old me’? I consider myself much more refined in the present day.”

Old memories of the two of you hanging out with one another as teenagers came back to you. A smile melted on your face from the warm feelings of nostalgia, the chilliness from the snowfall leaving your body.

“You used to prank Mycroft all the time. Everything was always a competition with you and me; we would go from racing down the neighborhood to reach my house first or rush to finish homework and claim the telly before the other could. Oh! We would always make up fake cases, too, trying to entertain a mystery that didn’t even exist,” you laughed to yourself, “Look at us now.”

Sherlock grumbled at the reminder of your old shenanigans. He wasn’t always the fondest of his younger self. But he had to admit he was reckless, even as a child. It was a simpler time and kids didn’t have much to fret or fear.

“Now you’re all enigmatic and stoic with your flipped up coat collar and scary cheekbones. The difference is so disappointing, it’s sickening,” you gagged. Sherlock slipped off his glove and jabbed his freezing hand against your neck, making you exclaim at the coldness and shove him backward. He wore a victorious smirk at your suffering. You pointed a hard finger at him, holding back your own laughter to prove a point.

“NO, that’s not being fun, Sherlock. That’s torture- sadism! You’re just an arse!” He threw his arms in the air, tossing his glove in your face. “It’s subjective! I can be fun,” he insisted.

“You’re predictable, Holmes. You don’t remember what good humor is and it shows in your actions. You pick everything up from books and telly. You can’t surprise me anymore,” you declared. Sherlock’s expression contorted into shock as he stared at you in disbelief. You had left the great Sherlock Holmes baffled. The silence was deafening — music to your ears.

When you thought you were winning this argument, a special glint quickly shone in Sherlock’s eyes. Your expression dropped and then you were pushed backward. There was no railing behind you anymore to catch you.

As you were falling, you naturally grasped for something to hold on to. In this case, Sherlock’s coat. The evil smirk on his face was immediately replaced with shock then fear as he was crashing hard into you. Gravity did the rest of the work. With the momentum you had already begun, dragging Sherlock down with you was one of the worst possible outcomes of the situation. A crude curse slipped past his lips and both of you latched onto each other because there was nothing else to brace with.

What was initially meant to be a playful fall down the snowy hill turned into a rolling battle full of frantic thrashing and screaming as both of your bodies thumped and tangled with each other. The two of you occasionally bounced a few inches off the ground and crashed back into the ground, knocking the breath out of both of you. The wild human avalanche down the hill was finally put to a stop when you rolled into a tree. With a loud OOMPH, you and Sherlock flopped into the ground, groaning and croaking in pain. Neither of you moved for the first passing moments, unable to process what just happened.

Your fall was broken when you landed on top of Sherlock, his body sprawled out in the cold snow, rasping heavily. Some snow fell off your form and your arms shook as you propped yourself up, no longer caring about the fact that you applied all the pressure in your friend’s ribs.

“You alright, mate?” you panted, checking up on Sherlock, eyes analyzing him for any serious injuries.

“You take my breath away.” You sputtered and shook your head at his ridiculous humor. “Aren’t you just romantic?” He squinted his eyes and flashed a sarcastic smile but groaned out, “No, really. Please get off my chest.”

“Oh God, sorry,” you scrambled off of him and he rolled over into the snow, gasping for air as he clutched his side in pain. You punched him in the shoulder. “You bloody twat, Sherlock Holmes! Pushing me down a hill by Jove’s sake!”

“I remember it being much more fun when we were younger,” he grunted out, pushing himself onto his forearms. And just then, his eyes burst wide open. His face slack-jawed as his brain computed at top speed. He was onto something.

“Sherlo-”

“FUN, Y/n,” he articulated, scrambling over to you and grabbing you by the shoulders. You stiffened and backed away, startled by his abrupt realization. 

“Oh, Y/n, you are brilliant! This is why we work together!”

“What?! What are you-”

“The kids were abducted because they were having fun! ‘Ray’ is Remus Stooge, another private school kid in the area. The Stooge family owns several of the land plots around this corner of London and they’re the ones funding all three schools — The Stooge’s are plenty wealthy. The children were going to Remus’s home, ditching class time to get a personal house tour of his daddy’s money. The fancy car rides, luxurious delights, shiny sneakers and tailored clothing… Who wouldn’t pass up on an opportunity like that? It only makes sense why they were lured in so easily! Their rich best pal Remus has been the one inviting them right into the trap!”

“What- Sherlock! Where is this all coming from?! How do you even-”

“Trust me, Y/n!! I have it figured out- It all makes sense!” he interjected again. The look on your faces was bizarre. You tossed a handful of snow at him as he blocked it with his hands. “NO?? It doesn’t! This is so sudden-”

Sherlock was on his feet in an instant, brushing off the powder from his coat and yanking you up. His eyes were gleaming with excitement. “We have to go tell Lestrade, now! Call John and get over to the Stooge’s place!”

“To arrest the kid?!”

“No, the butler!” He grabbed your gloved hand and dragged you up the steep white hill. You shook your head wildly, “Holmes, you better have a bloody good explanation for this in the cab or there will be hell to pay.” Sherlock smirked triumphantly and squeezed your hand.

“Come, L/n! The game is on!”

Requests are open! <3

[sgwrscrsh]

winter days: underneath the tree

☁️a/n☁️ this made my heart very warm to write even though i pulled an all-nighter to get it done because my time-management has gone to shit after finals. requested by @sachirou-senpai​. thank you, ellie, for giving me a reason to bring back my boys. i’ve missed ‘summer on you’ so much. this can be read as a stand-alone or as a spin off of ending b, my fave. either way, merry christmas to my babes who celebrate! i have one more christmas fic for tmr and then i’m hiding away to plan + write an smau.

includes: female!reader, poly!seijoh four, post-timeskip (very minor manga spoilers), lots of domesticity, a little suggestive bit, a lot of eating and sleeping now that i realize, a christmas tree, matching pajamas, a very special christmas gift, makki slapping your ass once, a lil teary moment w tooru, homemade curry + pancakes (but not together), lots of cuddling, lots of love, happy holidays, 4.35k words

☁️masterlist☁️

shivering slightly, you unlock the door to the rather spacious apartment you shared with your four boyfriends later into the evening than you would’ve liked. 

yes, four boyfriends. whom you love very much and are loved by in return.

living with four towering hunks has it’s ups and downs, but you wouldn’t trade tooru’s extensive skin care regiment sprawled across the bathroom counter; hajime’s bag of protein powder that he always forgets to put away; issei’s boots that you always tripped over when you came through the front door; or takahiro’s costco-sized box of cream puffs in the freezer that he insisted he would finish by the end of the month, almost half a year ago, for the world.

you made sure to stomp off the snow stuck on your boots before entering the building, but you couldn’t help but sigh at the warmth that greets you once you toe them off.

“ahhh,” you think. “thank goodness tooru convinced us to invest in heated floors.” another perk of having four boyfriends was that two of them brought in enough bank for you to seriously consider becoming their cute little housewife. snorting, you shake your head, though the idea of prancing around in a maid outfit to tease them seemed very appealing. “maybe we should make hiro dress up and clean the house since he still hasn’t found a new job yet.” 

“what’s so funny, sweets?” speak of the devil. makki’s head pops out from the bathroom nearest to the front door, steam rolling out and droplets falling from his hair, signifying that he had just taken a hot shower. wordlessly, you stare at him, lost in thought imagining the water caressing his toned body, but a second later, he gets a better look at you and laughs. “you look like a wet dog!” your glare loses some of its edge when he takes in your own damp strands. 

“did someone say something about a dog?” tooru comes bounding round the corner, and you could’ve sworn he drooped a little when he realized it was just you in the hallway sans dog. turning your icy glance on the setter, you open your mouth to complain about how mean the two of them were being to you when your prince charming comes in to save the day.

“you two, stop bullying the poor girl and let her take a warm bath before she gets sick!” iwa chides as he helps you unbundle the layers that protected you from the snow and sharp winds of the winter. pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead and promising to pick out comfy clothes for you, he ushers you into your spacious en suite where a steaming tub full of rose petals awaits you. hajime chuckles at the starry eyes you give him, heart warming at the love and appreciation shining clear as day on your face, before he leaves to grab a clean pair of underwear, one of issei’s t-shirts, and a pair of his own sweats, knowing you much prefer to wear their clothes at home.

submerged in the bath, you exhale contentedly, eyelids fluttering shut as you enjoy the product of iwa’s consideration and foresight. letting the stress of work and the chill of the outdoors melt from you, you stay in the water until it cools and your fingers prune. a lone thought of how much more you would’ve enjoyed the bath if the boys had joined you flits through your mind, but you jolt when you open your eyes and find issei sitting on the counter with a towel and your robe in his lap, some of the water sloshing over the side of the tub. 

“oh thank god, i was scared you fell asleep and would drown or choke on a rose petal.” you giggle while he wraps you up in your robe before gently toweling your hair dry. “you can’t leave me to deal with the three of them alone.” 

rolling your eyes, you retort easily, “if anything, i’d feel bad about leaving hajime to deal with the three of you alone. the poor man puts up with enough from his team, he doesn’t need you guys ganging up on him, too.”

“well i’ll have you know, sometimes he really enjoys us ganging up on him.” his cheeky quip paired with his wiggling eyebrows earns him a smack on the chest but regardless, you let him sweep you up into his arms and drop you on the massive bed the five of you shared. “get dressed, babygirl. as much as i’d love to spend more time with you naked, i gotta help haji finish dinner.” with a quick peck on your lips, issei leaves you to do just as he said. 

emerging revitalized and relaxed, your mouth waters at the smell of homemade curry, distracted enough to not notice tooru’s arms wrapping around your shoulders and waist. 

“hey, cutie, i’ve missed you,” he sings, face snuggled into the junction of your shoulder and neck. you spin around in his hold to slip your arms around his slim torso, relishing his firm lines against your soft curves. 

“‘ve missed you too, tooru.” and you really did, grateful that all of you were able to take time off work and he was able to come home a week before the holidays, giving the five of you a whole month to spend together before he had to jet back to argentina for his next bout of training and practice games.

“hell yea! group hug!” makki comes running towards you guys, only for you to twist out of his reach at the last second, sending him straight into the sofa behind you. “oof, that was cold, y/n.”

you stick your tongue out at the strawberry boy. “yea, well that’s what you get for laughing at me when i got home. sucker.” still entangled in tooru’s embrace, you feel his body shake with mirth and bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from dissolving into giggles when you see a pout take over hiro’s pretty face.

“dinner’s ready,” comes iwa’s call, beckoning the three of you into the kitchen before you could antagonize each other some more. once you all got your servings of curry, you settle into your proclaimed seats on the large sofa, your body comically small compared to their tall frames dwarfing the cushions. noting the way tooru threw his long legs over iwa’s and how mattsun and makki leaned against each other as they ate, you fold your legs to tuck your feet under takahiro’s thigh and dig in to your meal with some trashy reality show lighting up the tv screen, completely certain that the warmth in your chest was from the company of your loved ones more so than the piping hot potatoes in your stomach.

during breakfast the next day, you blearily rub the sleep out of your eyes before taking a sip of your coffee, a satisfied “ahhh” escaping your parted lips as you lean against the kitchen counter. slowly peeling your eyelids open, you notice all of their gazes were focused on you. “yes? can i help you?” you ask amusedly, awake now that caffeine had be introduced to your tired body.

“how are you still so gorgeous in the morning?” you blink at the dreamy look on iwa’s face propped up in his hands with his elbows on the surface of the island. looking around, you see the other three matching the athletic trainer’s pose and expression next to him. thinking over your messy bedhead, mysteriously stained pajamas, and almost impressively dark eyebags, you want to scoff, but the unfairly handsome men giving you their undivided attention despite all of that (“because of all of that, y/n-chan,” tooru would argue) make you blush instead.

“you’re one to talk, haji,” you opt to remark, hoping to divert their focus from you and your rosy cheeks. “and don’t look at me like that,” your pointed finger swinging wildly between the four of them like the needle of a compass. “you already know you guys are way outta my league, you don’t need me to tell you that.” with one last flourish, you wave your hand dismissively before grabbing your mug with both hands, palms warming against the ceramic.

“as wrong as you are, you can’t blame us for wanting to hear the love of our lives compliment us first thing in the morning as we admire her natural beauty,” mattsun grins once he sees the success his words have at deepening the flush on your face. tooru nods gravely in agreement, but it’s makki’s one-two combo of a wink and an air kiss that breaks you. you roll your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a laugh but release it immediately when the playful atmosphere takes a heady turn. clearing your throat, you pay no heed to their hungry expressions, knowing full well that they all noticed your little action and how they would react to it.

“a-anyways,” you stutter, “i’m gonna go get ready ‘cause i have things to do today so-” you try to slip by, leaving your empty cup in the sink, only to get caught in your tracks by hiro’s long arms. 

“ah, ah, ah, princess. and where do you think you’re going?” soon enough, you find yourself surrounded by your smoking hot boyfriends and heat up in anticipation of their next moves. 

“this so isn’t fair,” you complain aloud, though you were just as eager as they were to get you out of your worn sleep clothes. 

“tough shit, babygirl. guess you’re just gonna have to add four more things to your to-do list, huh?” 

naturally, you leave your errands for some day later in the week when you’re able to walk properly again.

the opportunity comes when you rise earlier than the rest of them, a rare occasion where you found yourself graced with the freedom of sleeping on the outside instead of being sandwiched in the middle of the bed. tiptoeing about, you brush your teeth and get dressed, somehow managing to not wake any of the sleeping beauties. you scribble little love-filled messages on post-it notes and stick them around your apartment on your way out, but not without one last soft smile in the direction of the bedroom, the sight of the four of them cuddled together through the door left ajar renewing your motivation to accomplish your tasks and come home sooner. 

with your laptop bag in tow, you set out for your first destination, settling into a corner booth at the coffee shop with a full cup and a pastry. once you finish your breakfast, you pull out your laptop and get to work, scouring the internet for the perfect gifts for your lovably imperfect partners. you rack your brain for any recollection of any moment where they would’ve let a potential present slip into conversation and light up when you come across volleyball print pajama pants. you check the availability of the sizes you needed and upon realizing that they were all in stock and would be delivered before christmas, you place your order without a moment’s hesitation. satisfied with your progress, you pull up the animal shelter’s hours before heading out of the cafe, the barista’s greetings and the jingling bells echoing behind you. 

by the time you return home, it’s late in the afternoon and you’re greeted by a wall of warm bodies as soon as you step through the front door. 

“where’ve you been, babe?” once again, takahiro is the first to meet your return, but this time he plants a sweet kiss on your lips with his long fingers encircling your waist after his inquiry. 

“oh, you know,” you sigh, dazed from the saccharine embrace. “out and about.”

“busy day? hope it was productive.” you nuzzle into tooru’s chest, feeling the timbre of his voice through your skin, and nod.

“as a matter of fact, it was.” their eyes soften at the proud grin stretched across your face. but your grumbling stomach just had to ruin the moment, making the three of you stare at each other before bursting out in chuckles.

“you skipped lunch?” oiks asks, wrapping each arm around yours and hiro’s waists and guiding you into the kitchen. you rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

“i guess so? i didn’t really notice i was hungry until now.”

“good thing we saved your favorite from that chinese place down the street for you,” mattsun comes up behind you and lands a kiss on the crown of your head. you beam gratefully up at him and skip over to the fridge to retrieve the takeout.

“welcome home, love,” iwaizumi emerges from the bathroom to complete the set and gives you a once over. “you look tired.”

“gee thanks, hajime.” he rolls his eyes playfully at you while you wait for your food to heat up in the microwave.

“what time did you get up this morning?” 

“uhhh,” you start, mouth full. at iwa’s stern glare, you swallow before answering, “seven-ish? earlier than i would’ve like for a vacation day but it was worth it.”

“hm, well i’m glad you had a good day at least.” you shuffle over to kiss his cheek before dropping yourself on top of where tooru and hiro were cuddling on the sofa, eyes drifting around the room to take in the holiday decorations adorning the space.

“thanks, haji. but you’re right, i am sleepy.” suppressing a yawn, you lean back against the broad chests behind you and tuck back into the paper container. “can we take a nap once i’m done?”

“sure thing, babygirl.” the innocent smile mattsun sends your way turns mischievous with his added comment. “we really tuckered ourselves out while you were gone.” you nearly choke but makki’s hand thumping your back helps you dislodge whatever food got caught in your throat. iwa shakes his head and looks to the side in an attempt to hide his face, but the reddening tips of his ears give him away. meanwhile, oikawa catches your eye and winks.

“how else did you suppose we keep ourselves occupied when our baby wasn’t home?” you get up to toss your now empty container, shaking your head as you go. 

“i’m glad to see you at least got the christmas tree up before going at it. god, you’re all insatiable.”

“i mean, it’s hard not to be in this relationship,” hajime grumbles.

“aww, iwa,” makki pushes his lips into an overexaggerated pout. “you make me hard, too.” full-bellied chortles escape the four of you, ignoring iwaizumi’s indignant huffs.

“whatever,” comes his miffed reply, but you know he takes all your antics in stride. soon enough, he returns to the living room with a stack of blankets and finds you and issei added to the pile of limbs tooru and hiro founded. somehow, hajime situates himself to fit perfectly in your cuddle fest, blankets sprawled about to keep you warm.

one last yawn leaves your mouth before you mutter a sleepy, “night, guys. love you,” barely registering the quiet “love you”s you get in return as you drift off, the lights adorning your christmas tree twinkling above you.

christmas day, you wake up before the others again, this time more than willing to feign sleep and revel in the warmth of your shared bed. luckily, you don’t have to wait long for your boys to stir. sitting up, you stretch your arms above you head and begin to climb out of bed only to be caught by the wrist and dragged back down.

“haji, please,” you draw out. “we can finally open the presents under the tree!”

“i don’t care, it’s too early for you to leave me, princess.” you hum as he pulls you closer to him, revisiting your mental note that iwa is much more openly (and selfishly) affectionate in the mornings. 

“oi, the rest of us are still here you know.” face buried against tooru’s back, mattsun’s muffled complaint gets hajime to loosen his hold on you. 

“yea, yea,” he props himself up on his elbow to lean over you and kisses the former middle blocker’s temple. “unfortunately.”

“so mean, iwa-chan,” oikawa pipes up, stretching his arm across you to caress your boyfriend’s toned arm before lacing his fingers with makki’s. the pink haired man himself, still half-asleep, squeezes tooru’s hand before sitting up.

“hey, wait. it’s christmas, isn’t it?” takahiro’s question reminds you of the package you received a couple days prior, prompting you to spring out of bed before one of them could reel you back in. the four watch you rifle through the closet and resurface with the pajama pants you ordered.

“merry christmas!” you cry excitedly, tossing each boy their respective pair and eagerly awaiting their reactions. “they’re matching pj’s! look, i got one for myself, too.” thankful that you chose to go to bed in just one of iwa’s godzilla t-shirts and underwear last night, you rush to slip on your volleyball print pants. the boys take in your childlike joy, chests tightening at how precious you are. “hurry up, i want you to try them on so we can match!” at your insistence, they roll out of bed and dutifully don your gifts. 

“oh these are actually really soft,” tooru murmurs thoughtfully, fingering the fabric on his thigh.

“right?” you pipe up, nearly bouncing off the walls. “i wanted to do something to commemorate our first christmas together in this apartment and i thought these were really cute since volleyball is what brought us together in the first place.” eyes meet each other as you all reminisce that special summer, grateful that you stayed close despite your individual journeys after graduation.

suddenly, the doorbell ringing catches your attention. a brief glance at the clock on the bedside table tells you it’s much later in the morning than you though, but you’re quick to answer the door.

“who could that be?” the boys are left wondering, wandering out into the living room in time to see you wave goodbye to whoever it was with a large gift-wrapped box sitting on the floor next to you. 

“babe? who was it?” tooru is the first to ask the question on all of their minds. 

“oh, just my best friend. they wanted to drop this off on their way to their parents’ house.” you gingerly pick up the box and bring it to where your boys were waiting for you. “go ahead!”

“go ahead?” hajime parrots. 

“yea! open it!”

“it’s not for you?” takahiro ponders.

“well yes and no. c’mon just open it already!” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet at this point. tooru finally takes the initiative to remove the lid of the box, eyes widening when he sees what it hid.

“oh my gosh,” he breathes. the other three nearly knock heads with how quickly they lean over the opening.

“is that-?” a furry little head pops up over the edge of the box, round eyes peering up at the four of them.

“a dog! yes!” you squeal. “he’s a shelter dog!”

“he is?” hiro is in awe, slowly reaching out to cradle the little guy in his arms.

“i met him the other day when i woke up early and ran errands without you guys. isn’t he just the cutest?” big hands dwarf the small pooch as they gently pet his head and stroke his fur.

“does he have a name?” tooru has the good sense to ask. 

“mhm, the lady at the shelter said his previous owner named him ponyo.”

“ponyo…” issei whispered, eyes shining. 

“i know we’re nowhere near ready to start thinking about kids,” you start, the topic of the conversation instantly drawing their attention. tooru even ignored ponyo’s little tongue lapping at his fingers. “but i thought we could use an addition to our family.” 

“y/n, princess, we obviously all love him already, but we’re busy with work- well, most of us are. who’s gonna take care of him?” hajime questions, almost reluctantly.

“i mean, hiro is home all the time since he’s still unemployed (“i said i was looking, damn!”), but i actually got promoted so my schedule is way more flexible and i can work from home most of the time.” your voice trails off bashfully, but they give you no time to be embarrassed, swallowing you up in a huge hug. 

“why didn’t you say anything sooner, baby? we’re so proud of you!” now you know how the dog felt being smothered by their affection, not that it was anything new for you.

“uhh, surprise?”

“fuck yea, surprise! god, you’re incredible. lemme make a list of things we’ll need to get for ponyo once the stores reopen tomorrow.”

“actually…”

“you didn’t.”

“i did, with help from my best friend.” going into the lowest cupboards in the kitchen, you show off the bag of dog food and water and food bowls you bought soon after visiting the shelter. “his bed and crate are in the other closet by the washroom.”

“how did we get so lucky?” takahiro asks aloud, making you blush as the others nod in sync, all of them blown away by your thoughtfulness.

“this is nothing. i just wanted to show you guys how much i love you.” you play with your fingers, a little overwhelmed now that the initial excitement has worn off. “oh wait!”

“there’s more?” tooru asks, shocked.

“but wait, there’s more!” mattsun and makki chime in simultaneously, making you laugh as you retrieve the last present. you hop over to where tooru was sitting on the sofa with ponyo on his lap, scooping the dog up and locking the two of you in the bathroom. a couple minutes later, you open the door to let ponyo scurry over to his dads, who coo softly once they see him come around the sofa.

“when did you have time to do this?”

“my pants were a little long, so i hemmed them one night after you guys passed out on the sofa watching your old volleyball matches. i kinda guessed ponyo’s measurements based on standard info i found on the internet, but it fits perfectly so i’m glad!” looking at the little sweater you made for your new family member out of the extra fabric from your pj pants, you couldn’t stop the pleased grin that broke out on your face. “now even ponyo matches with us!”

while your gaze was trained on the tiny dog that was exploring his new home, theirs were stuck on you, your resemblance with a proud mother struck something in them, giving them thoughts of you with their children. yes, children. but for now they shoved those images to the backs of their minds, meeting each other’s stares to confirm they were all in silent agreement.

“we’re gonna make breakfast, you just sit there ‘n look pretty while you watch ponyo, yea?” issei announces before pulling you into a searing kiss as he walks by. 

“not that that’s hard for you,” iwa tags on, kissing your cheek and ruffling your hair following mattsun into the kitchen.

“but i’m always hard for you.” you yelp when hiro playfully slaps your ass, flipping him off as he trails after the other two with a loud hoot. tooru comes up behind you and rubs your sore cheek, spinning you around so that you were face to face.

“why’d you do this to me, y/n-chan?” you meet his frown with a confused look of your own. “now it’s gonna be even harder for me to go back to argentina.”

“oh, tooru,” you wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to bring him close. “you have the next few weeks to spend with us and our new baby.” as if he knew you were talking about him, ponyo pads over to sit by your feet, tail wagging. oikawa sighs melodramatically.

“a few weeks is nothing compared to the months i’ll be gone!” 

“oi, shittykawa, you better not be complaining after everything this morning,” hajime hollers from the kitchen.

“love you, too, iwa-chan!” tooru calls back instinctively then he looks back down at you, his eyes giving away how much leaving will hurt him and it nearly makes you tear up with him.

“tooru, baby, it sucks every time you leave us, but you’re following your dreams and doing what you love. and we want to support you all the way, even if it means doing so from across the world. but with my new work schedule, i’ll be able to call or text you pretty much whenever. and just think how much sweeter it’ll be the next time you do come home to us. so don’t be too sad, okay, my love? we’ll all be here waiting for you.” 

as the last words leave your lips, tooru has you pulled flush against him, arms wrapped tight around your body. his face was hidden, but you could feel the sobs in hot breaths against your shoulder. you guided him over to the sofa and let him cry, petting his hair and peppering kisses on his tear-streaked face until he tired himself out. 

issei, hajime, and takahiro come out of the kitchen with stacks of pancakes and all the fixings, setting them down on the coffee table in front of you once they see tooru snoozing in your lap. iwa picks ponyo up before he could get a bite of your breakfast while you gently shake your boyfriend awake. mattsun and makki set up ponyo’s crate and bedding, leaving him with a toy to keep him occupied while the five of you filled up your plates.

sitting in the living room of the apartment you shared with your four boyfriends on christmas day, stuffing your face with fruit and whipped cream topped pancakes that they made, in matching pajamas with your new rescue dog scampering about, you couldn’t ask for a better gift underneath the tree.

taglist: @lovemeafterhrs​ @sachirou-senpai​ @honey-makki​ @kenmaki​

[honey-dewey]

Between Old Friends and New Lovers

Pairing: Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey/GN! Vampire Reader

Word Count: 3,000

Warnings: blood, biting, mind control, but it’s all very minor.

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell​

A/N: This is my first time making a header of sorts for my fics! I quite liked how this one turned out. 

The prompt for this week’s Writer Wednesday was given, as always, by the lovely @autumnleaves1991-blog​, and the masterlists are created by @clydesducktape.

The manor was always cold. Not that you minded much, but sometimes the ever-present chill in the air drove away your guests. Again, you didn’t mind all too much. Guests were never your forte. But he, well. He was always different. 

“Your Grace?” Your lady in waiting, Camille, came into your study, bowing her head down. “You have a visitor.” 

“Is it his visiting day already?” You asked, checking your date book. 

Camille nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. It is.” 

You smiled, putting down your pen and moving from out behind your desk. “Thank you kindly Camille. Send him to the sitting room and inform him I shall be down momentarily.” 

Camille left, and you hummed to yourself, straightening out your papers and setting your pen back down next to its respective inkwell. As you worked, you reminisced on the day you had met your favorite human being. 

Two years prior

You sighed, listening to the rain slam against the windows as you worked on a few neglected pieces of paperwork. It was mostly finances, but it all had to be done, and so you were doing it. Tonight was supposed to be horribly rainy, with scattered thunderstorms and no sign of stopping until the sun rose. You didn’t mind. It made hunting harder, but you didn’t need to hunt for a while. 

A sharp bolt of lightning lit up your study, and you finally shut your accounting book, deciding your work could wait until after the storm passed. You stood, pushing your chair back in. Office work was annoying at best. You’d much rather see people in person, share a cup of tea, and continue to build your reputation as the mysterious gothic Duke/Duchess who lived almost entirely alone. But paperwork, it seemed, was easier to send, and it meant most people could avoid your often intimidating presence. 

“Camille!” You called through the manor, shutting and locking the study. “Camille?” Usually your lady in waiting was somewhere nearby, working on her own work within earshot. But now, you had to tune your hearing up past what was normal to hear Camille’s pattering heartbeat and nervous breaths. Why was Camille nervous? She’d been serving the manor for three years, she’d stopped being nervous in the old building last year. 

“Camille!” You shouted, moving towards the sitting room she was inhabiting, worried for her safety. She should’ve alerted you immediately to a guest, and you were starting to grow concerned. Her heart rate spiked, only for a moment, and you heard her rushing footsteps coming towards you. 

“Yes, Your Grace?” Camille asked, rounding the corner and looking up at you through her eyelashes. “You called?” 

You nodded, dialing back your hearing so Camille’s close voice didn’t overwhelm you. “Have we got a visitor?” 

Camille bowed her head, nodding slightly. “I was just setting him up in the sitting room,” she said quickly. “I was about to come get you as soon as he was settled.” 

Smiling at the reassurance, you began to walk to the sitting room, where Camille had just come from. “Walk with me,” you said, and Camille hurried after you. “Is the man lost?” 

“Yes, Your Grace,” Camille said, walking a pace behind you. “He said his car broke down and he saw the manor. He asked for shelter from the storm.” 

“How is he?” You asked, already envisioning the man settled in your sitting room. “Healthy?” 

Camille nodded, her face going pale. “Yes, Your Grace,” she responded. “He’s young and seemingly in good health.” 

The sitting room doors came into sight, and you smiled, turning to Camille. “How do I look?” 

“Perfect,” Camille responded, glancing at the ornate silver-backed mirror in the hall. Only she showed up, standing beside the silhouette of your clothes. You straightened your collar, running your fingers over the two neat lines of shining buttons before adjusting your gloves and pushing the sitting room door open.

Immediately, you noticed the smell. Deep and foreign, you had to dial your senses back further than you normally would to stand it. Leather and cologne and a deep internal lust mixed with the smell of the city. He was from New York City, you could practically taste it on him. He looked odd, but no odder than you, decked in all black and leather, every bit of metal on him glimmering in the low lamplight as he moved. You took a breath, but no silver. You were safe. 

Looking the man up and down, you tried to silently determine whether he was one of you. You knew that the younger generation preferred to stay in cities, and called themselves goth in order to maintain the aesthetic. But despite his unique, timeless features, the man smelled organic and human, and you could hear his heart beating, a steady constant in the back of your hearing. 

Your guest stood, and you smiled politely. “Welcome,” you said sweetly, clasping your hands in front of you. “I apologize for not welcoming you to the manor myself.” 

The man smirked, looking you up and down. “No problem,” he said smoothly. “Nice place.” 

“Thank you.” You sat in a chair in front of the fireplace, crossing your legs and gesturing for your guest to sit beside you. “Family estate. Would you like a fire?” You noticed the man was wet, and you assumed he’d been caught in the storm. 

“I wouldn’t mind one,” the man agreed, and you gestured Camille over. 

“Camille, would you mind starting a fire?” You asked. “And when you’re done, I would love some tea.” 

Camille nodded, exiting the room and leaving you alone with your guest. 

“May I have your name?” You asked politely, turning your full attention to the man. 

He nodded. “You can call me Dio.” 

“Dio.” The name turned over like a fine wine on your tongue. “A bit of a presumptuous nickname, don’t you think?” 

Dio raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said slowly, in a tone that told you he knew exactly what you meant. 

You stood, moving to stand in front of the fireplace. “I mean, calling yourself a god. Albeit in a different language, but still. Even I wouldn’t go that far.” 

“Even you?” Dio questioned, leaning back in his chair. “Explain.” 

“Well.” You gestured around at the ornate sitting room, at the dark embroidered seat cushions and the deep wooden surfaces surrounding you. “It does seem rather on brand for someone of my status, does it not?” 

Dio’s smirk returned. “Of course,” he said, digging through his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “Instead you call yourself Duke/Duchess.” 

“It would be improper of me to not,” you pointed out. “It is, in fact, my title. You, however, have no title, Shane Morrissey.” 

Dio’s face went pale and the cigarette dropped from between his fingers, hitting the carpet below his feet with almost no noise. “How-“ 

At that moment, Camille pushed the door open, rolling in a cart with firewood and a tea tray. While she busied herself with the fire, you sat back down, taking Dio’s cigarette from the floor, lighting it on Camille’s match and handing it back to the stunned man. “I usually don’t allow guests to smoke,” you said casually. “But I suppose I can make an exception. Just this once.” You pushed an ashtray across the table, smiling. “You were saying?” 

Dio blinked, wide eyed. “How do you know-“ 

“Your name?” You finished for him, accepting an empty teacup from Camille and nodding to her when she set the tray on the table and left once more. “I could see your identification card in your pocket when you reached for your cigarettes. But if you would prefer to be referred to as Dio, I will do so.” 

Dio seemingly relaxed. But he was still on edge as you poured yourself some tea. 

“It’s a lovely black currant tea, if you’re interested,” you said, not even looking up as you poured the thick black tea into your cup. “I see Camille brought two cups.” As you spoke, you took the cream jug and poured a splash into your tea, setting the jug aside from the rest of the set. “I promise it isn’t poison,” you added sweetly, taking a sip of your tea. 

Despite your humorous remark, Dio still seemed cautious, waiting until you had taken a sip to pour himself a cup of tea. He didn’t add sugar, simply sat back and cradled the cup in his hands. You wondered if he was still cold. But the fire was going and you could feel it warming your skin, even if the feeling of warm and cold were long since lost to you. 

“So, Dio,” you said, watching Dio take a sip of his tea. “You live in the city, don’t you?” 

“Yes.” Dio’s voice was guarded, hesitant. He was scared of you. 

You hummed, nodding to yourself. “I haven’t seen the city,” you admitted. “Do you enjoy it?” 

Dio shrugged. “It’s alright.” 

You sighed. “Dio,” you said firmly, forcing his attention to snap to you. “Do I scare you?” 

“What?” Dio asked, surprised. “I mean.” His eyes went glassy as you waved your hand, forcing him to tell the truth. “Yes.” 

“Why?” 

Dio’s hand shook, spilling tea over his skin. “I-“ he faltered, blinking a few times, face pulling tight. “I don’t know.” 

You waved your hand again, releasing Dio from your hold. “Maybe I should explain,” you said, standing and setting your cup down. “I am (F/N) (L/N), sole heir to my name and the last remaining Duke/Duchess of this land. I have held my title and estate for over twelve decades, and I am a vampire.” 

Dio was silent, so silent you had to wonder if you had broken him. But eventually, he nodded slowly, setting his cup down. “Okay,” he said softly. “Okay.” 

“You’re not dreaming,” you added helpfully. “Nor is this a hallucination caused by the tea.” 

“Yeah,” Dio agreed quietly. “What about Camille, is she?” 

“Oh of course not!” You said, sitting back beside Dio and picking up your cup again. “No, we don’t keep preternatural staff anymore. Her family has been in service to my family since long before I was born, and she seemed happy enough to have the job once I reached out. I do pay quite well.” 

“Anymore?” Dio wondered out loud. “Tell me more about vampires. I want to know.” He leaned forward in his seat, and you grinned. It was rare you revealed yourself to a guest and were met with anything less than terror. But Dio seemed downright enthused. So you poured yourself a new cup of tea, adding a generous amount of cream this time, letting Dio see that it was not cream, but blood.

“Well. Where to start?” You mused. “I come from a long line of vampires, one of the longest in fact. My family, my bloodline if you will, was once well respected, but during the witch hunts, most of my kind died out. My mother survived and lived in this manor, alone, for centuries until she found me. I was lost, a wandering child, and she took me in and cared for me, turning me when the time was right.” 

“So where is she?” 

“Long dead,” you said, peeling your gloves off and setting them aside. “I’ve been the master of this estate for, oh, I guess it must be almost ninety years now. Yes, I inherited it during the depression.” 

Dio nodded, his cigarette long since forgotten in the ashtray. “So, how do you survive? How much blood do you need? Are you like Dracula? Do you have any powers? What-“ 

“Dio!” You cut him off with a raised hand and a chuckle. “I cannot possibly answer your every burning question right now.” You stood, looking out over the storm, which was fading. “Here. Let us make a deal. I will send you home safely, with no complications, and in turn, I will entertain you once a month, on the first Saturday, and I will answer one question. Only one, until you are satisfied.” 

Dio nodded, glancing out the window. “How do I know you aren’t just messing with me about the vampire thing?” He asked softly. 

You smiled. “Come with me.” 

He followed you out into the hall, where you guided him to the mirror just outside the sitting room. “Look,” you said, gesturing to the mirror. “It’s an old heirloom. Silver-backed, so I don’t appear in its surface.”

Dio gently reached out, touching the mirror with feather-light fingers. “You’re not,” he breathed. “It’s real.” 

“It is,” you agreed. “Now, get going Dio. I’ll see you in one month. Don’t be late.” 

Two years later

You opened the sitting room doors, seeing Shane sitting in his usual spot, right by the fireplace. He was already cradling his teacup, your cup sitting on the table, perfectly set up to your liking. 

“Shane!” You said happily, and Shane stood, allowing you to hug him tightly. “You’re on time.” 

“When am I not?” Shane asked, pulling away and sitting back down. “Shall we?” 

You laughed. “We shall.” 

Your cup was full to the brim of blood, no tea this time. It was a feeding day, and as much as you hated it, Shane promised he didn’t mind. 

“Actually,” you decided, setting your cup down without taking a sip. “Perhaps we should do this a different way.” 

“What do you mean?” Shane asked, worried. “Did I make it wrong? Camille brought me the teapot. She said it was your favorite.” 

You shook your head. “No Shane,” you said. “You’re perfectly good. In fact.” You stood, offering him your hand. “You’re more than good.” 

Standing, Shane let you lead him to the window, looking out over your night-darkened estate. “I don’t understand.” 

“I don’t want some stranger’s blood,” You purred softly, pushing Shane’s shirt collar down. “I want you, Shane. I want to taste you on my tongue, to have your life filling my belly and making me warm.” 

Shane gulped, his skin heating. “Really?” 

“Would I lie?” You asked, almost pouting. “My love, I would never. Say the words, and I will make you feel amazing.” 

Nodding, Shane put a hand to the window to brace himself. “I give you permission,” he said, voice wavering. “You may feed from me.” 

You smiled, putting your mouth to his neck and kissing, trailing to the perfect spot. He shivered, moaning softly when you nipped at the tender flesh of his neck. Curving your lips up at the shameless sounds you were eliciting from Shane, you finally found the sweet spot and dug your fangs in. 

If you thought Shane was vocal when you were just teasing, you were in for a surprise. As you lapped at the blood pooling on Shane’s skin, he writhed under you, moaning and breathlessly whining your name, both hands pressed fully to the window to keep stable. You licked a warm stripe up the curve of Shane’s neck, chuckling as he breathed heavily. “Do you like that, my love?” 

“Yes,” Shane gasped out. “Yes, I do, Your Grace.” 

You hummed, running a finger through the smeared blood and turning Shane around so he could see you suck his blood off your finger. “You taste exquisite,” you moaned around your finger. “So perfect.” You moved in again, licking up the last of the blood. 

Shane breathed loud against you, his breath disturbing your hair as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “More,” he begged as you pulled away. “Please.” 

“No more my love,” you said, wiping your mouth on a nearby towel. “I will not push you, especially on your first feeding.” You gently pressed the towel to Shane’s skin, occasionally pulling it away and checking on the wounds. Two perfect little puncture holes, still seeping the tiniest bit, marred Shane’s smooth skin. “I’ll call Camilla, have her clean you up properly.” 

While you two waited for Camilla, you lay beside the fireplace, Shane laying in your lap as you held a book, reading aloud to him and stroking gently through his hair. 

“I was afraid to raise my eyelids, but looked out and saw perfectly under the lashes. The girl went on her knees, and bent over me, simply gloating. There was a deliberate voluptuousness which was both thrilling and repulsive, and as she arched her neck, she actually licked her lips like an animal.” You smiled, flicking the page and watching Shane’s eyes slide closed. “Lower and lower went her head as the lips went below the range of my mouth and chin and seemed about to fasten on my throat,” you read softly, urging Shane to sleep, to rest as you read. 

Camille came in, carrying a tray of healing supplies. You gestured for her to leave them on the table, and she did, smiling at the sight of Shane in your lap before she ducked out of the room. 

“My love?” You asked, laying the book down and grabbing the bandages. “My love, may I see your neck?” 

Shane reflexively turned, showing you the side of his neck you’d fed from. You carefully dressed the wound, humming to yourself as you did so. 

“I never got a question today,” Shane murmured, startling you. 

“Oh.” You set down the roll of bandages, carding through Shane’s hair again. “What do you wish to ask today?” 

Shane leaned into your hands, grinning slightly. “Can I be your boyfriend?” He asked softly. “In a strictly non-vampire way.” 

You smiled, nodding. “Of course, my love,” you answered. “Of course.” 

As Shane’s eyes fluttered shut once more, you picked up the book, determined to finish at least this chapter. With Shane in your embrace and the warmth of the fire surrounding you, you continued to read your newly christened boyfriend to sleep. “I closed my eyes in a languorous ecstasy and waited—waited with a beating heart.”

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. This is a window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the Italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

hey girlypops! here is part 5!!! thanks for the feedback on the last part - i've gone back through and edited slight bits to make it more straightforward who her brother is and who it isn't. Nothing has been changed to the story line so no need to go back and re-read (unless you want to lol love yas). Part 5 is a whole lot of fun! As the warning suggests, you can expect a few too many drinks, some heavy flirty & a very smug italian.

Love always, Steph xx

Part 5. | parte quinta

warnings; a few too many drinks, heavy flirting and a smug italian.

word count; 1704

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Wed 04/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

Day rolls into night, which rolls into the next day and before she knew it Amelia had been under the Mykonos sun for 5 days. Her brother and his teammates, who she should now probably refer to as her friends as well, did nothing but welcome her into their group with open arms and tried to include her in every activity they were doing. Most times she declined their invitation, opting to just relax on her own. She was very comfortable with her own company, she never felt like she needed another person to be able to exist. It was something she was proud of.

No doubt there were times she often missed companionship. She had her fair share of flings that gave her what kind of satisfaction she needed at the time, but she never felt like she needed someone else’s air to be able to breathe. This Mykonos trip, however, reminded her of how much she was beginning to miss her players. They had a group chat, La Cosa Nostra, which was probably a pretty poor group chat name but she was inducted into the already established group when she became close with some of the players & besides it was just Our Thing.

She missed the gentle bullying that she received on the daily from the serie a superstars, and also missed dishing it out to them so that they could keep their feet on the ground and their heads out of the clouds. Laying on her bed in a towel, after a nice shower, she contemplated taking up her brother’s offer from earlier in the evening. Does she go out and meet him and their mates at the club? Why not?

Getting up off her bed, she put on some makeup for the first time in a few days, making her feel somewhat human again, blow dried her freshly washed hair and put on her favourite Camilla bikini, covered up by a white slightly-sheer and flowy mini dress. Putting on her white sneakers and grabbing her cross body bag, comfort was the theme of tonight, and also because she wasn't in the mood to break her ankle on the grecian cobblestones.

Walking to the club that her brother had messaged her the name of, she noticed a ridiculously long line to get in which was honestly long enough for her to consider just going home, but she had committed to the plans & her brother was already expecting her - plus she had already put on her mascara and she was not wasting it. Approaching the line she went to join the back when her arm caught that of someone else walking past her.

_____________________________________________________________

“Sembra che tu non riesca a starmi lontano, vero?” (you can't seem to stay away from me, can you?) Looking up, I had linked arms with my midfield maestro, Jorginho. Who was smiling down at me with the cheeky grin that told me he saw me coming and couldn't help himself.

“Ciao! Come sei stato? Che sorpresa incontrati qui!” (Hi! How have you been? What a surprise running into you here!) I begin to say to him as I kiss both his cheeks in greeting.

“I’ve been good, enjoying time off as a double champion” He joked with me. He was right, he was a double champion and no one could take that away from him.

“Bella Amelia, this is Thiago. I play with him at Chelsea, which I'm sure you already knew. Thiago, this is the brains behind the organisation, Amelia” Jorginho introduced me to his Chelsea counterpart, which he was correct about - i did already know exactly who he was.

“Are you guys coming into Tropicana? I’m meeting up with my brother and his mates - some of them play with you guys at Chelsea. You should join us!” It took very little convincing for the two footballers, who looked like they were a couple hours into their long night, to join me in the club.

Unsurprisingly, we got let into Tropicana quite quickly. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the two mega famous and ridiculously good looking footballers I had looped around each of my arms. Walking through the club, the smell of cigarette smoke and vodka wafting around me, I managed to find the british players.

“Now now boys, no bad blood here! I know you all managed to get over my Italian affiliation so don’t hold it against my boy Jorgi here!” I address the group jokingly, as I wrap my right arm around his neck and he wraps his left around my waist.

Of course the Chelsea boys welcome him with open arms, they’ve known both Thiago and Jorgi longer than they’ve known me. The other boys offer their hellos before continuing to dance and drink with their mates. I say hi to everyone, give a big hug to my brother and Kyle (my chosen brother) before I'm wrapped into another hug I wasn't expecting.

“I’ve got to admit, you give a good hug” I say as I whisper into his ear.

“You’re a pretty easy person to hug, Mils”

“Always a smooth talker you are, Jack”

We parted and I grabbed myself a drink before spending the night dancing on top of the table with the girlfriends of the boys that I had only just been introduced to. Bonding over the fact that I was desperate for some female companionship, and also that I was the only single girl in the group, leading to the conclusion that they needed to be my wingwoman...all of them.

The night thereafter was spent finding suitable prospects for my whirlwind night of fun and romance, which I insisted wasn't necessary but also couldn't help but admit that it excited me just a little. It had been a while since I was close with a guy in that sense, and to be honest, the tequila shots that the girls had me doing was loosening me up in more ways than one.

Feeling the need for a break and some fresh air, I grabbed my purse and walked outside to sit along the retaining wall. We had reached that part of the evening where there was no chance I wasn't going to be allowed back into the club - the bouncers and security guards becoming more relaxed and carefree as it neared the time that the sun would reappear. Without thinking twice, I asked for a cigarette from some guys standing outside and a quick light, before returning to my little spot on the wall.

“They’re right bad for you, ya know” A voice to my right startled me.

“Jesus! You need to stop scaring me like that!” I shrieked.

“Nah not Jesus, just Chilly. However the beard has me thinking I do look a little bit God-like these days..no?” He says as he runs his fingers through the barely-there beard. Sure I could agree with stubble, maybe even a little bit more than stubble, but a beard? Not yet. However, I wasn't about to dim his sparkle.

“I like the beard, Chilly.” I confirmed.

“I like you, Mils” Wow ok. Straight to the point then.

“Well thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.” I tried to play it off, it was obvious we had both consumed far too much alcohol this evening and the cigarette was currently working wonders in its purpose of sobering me up.

“Ya know, the girls were out there tonight looking for your Greek Adonis to come and sweep you off your feet. They were looking a bit too hard though, if you know what i mean” he sweet talks me, and its working.

“Wow Ben, you’re really out here laying it on thick tonight - factor 50 i would say. I’m sure you’re just looking through rose coloured glasses right now” I joked back with him. I can’t say I didn't notice all of his longing looks, extra attention to me, constant protection when we would be out in public, but I knew at the end of the week that I would be going back to Turin, so there wasn’t any point.

Finishing up our little chat (read: heavy flirting session), we headed back inside together to join the group. Before long, Jorgi comes up to me with a drink and a smug smile on his face.

“Che cosa?” (what?) I questioned him in Italian, trying to limit as many people understanding our conversation as possible.

“Cosa succede a mykonos, rimane a mykonos, no?” (what happens in mykonos, stays in mykonos, no?) He says as he leans into my ear. To anyone else it would just look like two friends trying to have a conversation in a loud club, but I understood his message loud and clear.

“non sto facendo niente di male, né l'ho mai fatto. non voleva etichette, quindi è quello che ha ottenuto” (i'm not doing anything wrong, nor have i ever. he wanted no labels so that’s what he got.) I say back firmly. Jorgi let go of my shoulders and moved to stand in front of me.

“It’s ok tesoro (darling), I’m sure Federico would agree with you” He said back to me in English, it was obvious that he wanted someone around to understand the premise of our conversation. He smiled cheekily at me, before taking a swig of his drink and dancing backwards into the crowd as I shook my head at him.

Jorgi and I developed the kind of friendship that would last through time. We were equals. We listened to each other's problems, offered the advice that we needed to hear & not necessarily wanted to hear. We promoted each other's happiness and tried to get each other to not take life too seriously. This was his way of bringing me back down to earth, reminding me of what I have waiting for me back in Turin, but also making sure I knew what was right in front of me. He left the decision up to me to make, but he played his part to make sure I knew all of my options. He really was a good friend, which would make my next career decision a little bit more challenging than anticipated.

Part 6. | parte sesta

[julemmaes]

honeybee

this is a following to my modern au nessian called drivers license (part one)

A/N: YOU REMEMBER WHEN I TOLD YOU I WASN'T SURE I WOULD'VE FINISHED DRIVERS LICENSE? CAUSE IT WAS LONG AND IT WAS TAKING A TOLL ON ME. WELL, FUCK ME. I DIDN'T KNOW REAL PAIN UNTIL I HAD TO FINISH THIS

the song this fic takes its name from is called honeybee and it's by the head and the heart

warnings: abusive household, description of violence, hospitalization

have fun I guess;)

Word count: 9,246

the day

When Nesta had broken up with Cassian in the middle of the night all those years ago, she had never imagined that her life would change so much.

Looking at the sparkling ring around her finger, with that delicate tiny diamond set in the equally fine and elegant silver band, she couldn't help but think that she had made the right choice when he had gotten up and decided to leave.

She had never regretted that call and she certainly wasn't starting to on her wedding day.

five years, three months and eighteen days before

Nesta had mentally prepared herself to see him once the door opened. She had prepared herself to see his dark hair tied back in a tousled bun and his thick eyelashes framing his equally dark eyes, still they would sparkle upon seeing her - as they had done every time since the day he had found her on that library's floor.

What she hadn't expected to find on his doorstep though, was the girl with blonde hair and long slender legs bare of any clothing and her torso covered by a t-shirt that Nesta recognised as one of Cassian's. A shirt she had worn several times over the months they had been together.

He looked into her face and it was hard not to notice the imprint left by the pillow on her cheek, her tired eyes still heavy with sleep. She had been sleeping.

Nesta glanced towards the living room, completely visible from where she was standing, and any hope she'd had at that moment that Mor was sleeping on the sofa vanished into thin air like smoke when she saw no pillows on the cushions. No blanket.

She looked back at Mor, who was now staring at her with a dumbfounded expression, as if she didn't believe she was standing there in front of Cassian's house. If she wasn't sleeping on the couch, it only meant she was sleeping in his bed.

He didn't have guest rooms, she knew that.

She was sleeping in his bed.

Her ears began to buzz and Nesta's vision fogged as she tried not to scream.

She had known.

Pursuing her lips into a thin line, she lifted her chin upwards a little, daring the girl in front of her to say something, and then turned, starting to walk towards her car, poised never to return.

She could feel her heart beating in her chest like a war drum and every step she took felt like her legs gave out a little more.

She was tired. She hadn't been able to sleep for weeks. To eat, study, read.

Nesta had died again under the unrelenting weight of the loneliness that had found peace the moment Cassian had set foot in her life and that had swept through her existence like a hurricane, turning upside down everything beautiful she had managed to find.

She felt the sting of emotion build in her throat, the ever-growing knot of tears that couldn't wait to be released, that Nesta knew would explode as soon as she stepped into the car and his house was out of sight.

She was sleeping in his bed.

She had just tightened her fingers around the keys when she heard it, Morrigan's ringing voice, calling her, and then her hurried footsteps behind her. Nesta turned.

"You're making a mistake."

Her eyebrows shot up, "Sorry?"

Mor seemed to flinch at the tone of her voice, "You're making a mistake." Nesta had to laugh and didn't hold back the stunned chuckle that escaped her control as the blonde continued, "You shouldn't leave."

She seethed, "You're wearing his clothes." she pointed out, taking a step forward and then another, forcing the other to walk backwards. She looked into her eyes, frowning, "You were sleeping in his bed only a few minutes ago," her words spoken in a whisper, but the poisonous emotion and hatred that laced the words conveyed everything Nesta was feeling, "why would I stay?"

Mor remained silent, studying her face, "Cass should be here any minute."

The way she said his name. Cass, like she had some kind of dominion over his person. Like she was the only one who knew him.

Nesta couldn't stop the words before they were out, "Why?"

And this time she wasn't asking her why she should stay, wait for him to come back. No.

She took another step forward, "Why did you let him lie to me? Why did youlie to me?"

The dull, dormant pain she'd felt that month woke up like a child pulled from sleep by a nightmare and hit her full in the chest. That emptiness that should have been filled with anger, jealousy, betrayal.

"Why not ask him to leave me? Why steal someone else's boyfriend?"

And at those words, she recoiled, because it wasn't true. Morrigan had never stolen Cassian from her.

Cassian had never been hers in the first place.

The girl opened her mouth to reply, but Nesta didn't give her time to speak and raised a hand, continuing, "Cause I ask myself that every night. I wonder what he sees in you," she laughed, letting out a choked breath as her eyes filled with tears, "What else do you have? You're older, it's true. You're prettier, blonder, taller. Perfect." she spat that word out in disgust.

"And you know what? I knew it. God, I knew it and I was pretending not to. The way his gaze would occasionally wander when we were talking or the mornings when he'd arrive at school in his clothes from the day before because he'd been to your place and hadn't slept." she clenched her hands into fists and smiled mischievously when she saw Mor swallow.

She was about to attack, to bite, to strike wherever she could to regain the dignity that had been stripped from her, but a deep, surprised voice interrupted her, "Nesta?"

She stiffened, turning around slowly. She didn't want to say anything, she just wanted to run to her car, get on and drive away, but what was in front of her knocked the breath out of her.

Nothing. There was nothing of the man she had loved in front of her now. The ghost of what Cassian had been no more than forty days before.

His eyes were slightly wide and that excited glint Nesta had hoped to see when he opened the door was just a miserable memory, because the hazel brown she loved so much was gone, covered by an opaque veil of sadness and pain she saw every day in the mirror.

Her gaze fell on the slightly hollowed cheeks and deep dark circles under his eyes, the messy, grimy hair, the dirty clothes that looked like they hadn't been changed in days, and finally to the cast around his left arm.

"What happened to you?" she asked in a weak voice.

He sighed and his eyebrows drew together. His shoulders visibly sagged and then the bag he held in his right hand fell to the ground as he took a step forward, "Nesta." he breathed.

She looked into his eyes, "What did you do?"

He gave a half-smile, bringing his free hand to his broken arm, "I-" then chuckled, "You're here."

"Cassian." Mor's voice made them both turn, but Nesta's eyes quickly went back to the man.

She needed to know if he was going to enter the house with her or listen to her, should she speak.

It was as if he hadn't even heard the blonde. "How are you?" he asked her, taking a step towards her.

Nesta couldn't connect her brain to her mouth, she was like a broken record when she asked, "What happened to you?" because Cassian wasn't well. And she wasn't talking about the broken arm or the dirty clothes, she was talking about the light that she saw was going out even now with every passing second.

She couldn't move, but she wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he came to his senses.

"Nothing," he said with that stupid weak smile on his lips, "you came here- do you want to talk? Can we talk?"

She heard Mor inhale sharply and then saw her walk around her until she was in front of him, and although they were close, Nesta couldn't hear what she said. She felt her heart break a little more and wondered how it was possible that it wasn't already sand in her chest. All she knew was that Cassian stiffened and swallowed twice when Morrigan finished talking to him.

"I should go." she managed to whisper, torturing her fingers.

He shook his head, taking a step forward and the blonde's hand snapped on his arm. Both their eyes fell on that touch and Nesta couldn't take it anymore, she had to go. The grip of her lacquered nails around his jacket was overbearing, possessive, but it was also familiar to his body and he wasn't retreating.

She took a step back, intending to run away and never return, and lost her balance, stumbling on the grass of the flowerbed. She opened her eyes wide and saw the way Cassian lunged forward to catch her, but Nesta was already on the ground. She cursed under her breath and the urge to cry only increased when she realised she had fallen onto a yellow rose bush.

Nesta burst out laughing at the irony of the picture they were composing at that moment.

"Nes, are you alright?"

If it hadn't been for Elain explaining to her the meaning of flowers every spare minute of her days, she would never have laughed, but the fact that she was now removing the thorns of a plant that represented jealousy and betrayal while standing in front of the man she loved and the girl who had managed to take him away from her was comical.

She stood up perhaps a bit too quickly as her head spun wildly and a myriad of black dots blurred her vision. She staggered a little and it didn't escape Cassian's attention as he moved even closer and wrapped his hand around her wrist. Nesta held her breath at the touch of his skin, so warm, so rough.

He was looking at her with a wrinkled expression and she just wanted the ground to swallow her whole when he asked, "Have you eaten today?"

She looked at him in amazement for a second, breathing out a laugh and then turned her head to the side, biting her lip. Because of course he was going to find out. That Nesta was no longer living.

After all, this Nesta, the Nesta who was now staggering around like a desperate drunk in his front yard, was the same Nesta he had met on that library floor.

She snatched her hand from his grasp and without looking at him walked towards the car, "Goodbye Cassian."

"Nesta, what- where are you going?" he asked her, following her, his hands raised as if he could grab her, keep her with him once he reached her.

She turned her head and caught him by surprise as he jerked back when she pointed a finger at him, too close. "I'm leaving and I have no intention of coming back. Don't follow me. I was wrong to come here in the first place."

The shock on his face was like receiving a punch in the gut. He lowered his arms, defeated.

"Why are you here?" he said softly. And it was as if he wasn't really asking the question. It was as if his mouth had finally decided to speak the words that had been rumbling around in his head until that moment.

Nesta shook her head and a weak sob broke her breath, "I can't."

Cassian stood there as she made her way to her car and when she finally touched the door and opened it, feeling the relief of freedom, he met her gaze from over the roof. She met Mor's gaze and felt the world crash down on her again. Heavier. More imposing.

Cassian took a step forward, "Why are you here?"

And Nesta exploded, "Cause I still fucking love you."

Her voice broke on the last word and she didn't even notice as tears began to stream down her face, "Because I still love you!" she screamed, slamming the door and spinning around the car, "Because I love you and I don't have-" a sob broke the sentence, "And I'm not okay! But you seem to be doing just fine without me!" she squealed even louder, bringing a hand to her chest. "I'm hurting! I'm hurting and I'm alone! And I miss you!"

She couldn't see it, but his eyes were glazed over too, and as he slowly approached her, a lone tear slid down his cheek.

"Fuck!" she cursed, turning around again and opening the door. She took a deep breath amidst the crying and looked at him, really looked at him, trying to memorize every detail, "Goodbye."

He shook his head, "No."

And Nesta waited no longer, got into the car and drove away.

five years, three months and seventeen days before

Nesta

"How did you find my house?" asked Nesta, clutching her sweatshirt to her chest.

Mor, in all her beauty and poise, stood at the door of her house, with her own clothes on this time.

"Hi Nesta." she said, biting her lip. Not out of embarrassment, to keep herself from saying anything else.

She didn't move, "How did you find my house?"

"I'd like to talk to you," she continued, still ignoring her question.

"It's hard to talk to a person if you keep ignoring what they say."

The blonde closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, "I know where you work, I followed you here."

Nesta's eyebrows shot up, "I could report you for stalking."

Mor gave a tight smile, "But you won't. Can we talk?"

Nesta felt the sudden urge to call the police, just to show her that she could, but she only said, "Why would we?"

"Because yesterday after you left, Cass tried to get in the car and follow you and he can't drive," Nesta found herself nodding thinking about his broken arm, weakened from the sleepless night, surely not because she wanted Mor to know she agreed with her. "I had to pull him out of the car by force to keep him from killing himself against a pole. I've never seen him so shaken up in my life and-"

Nesta interrupted her, "I don't know why you think it's my problem. You're his girlfriend now, the fact that you're coming to me for advice is concerning." then she stepped back, clasping her hand around the door to slam it in her face.

The audacity...

"Cassian still loves you."

She froze, holding her breath and looked Mor in the eye. She chuckled softly, shaking her head, "No, he doesn't."

The blonde huffed, bringing a hand to her forehead and moving a strand of hair, "I'm not his girlfriend anyway."

Nesta smiled sarcastically, "That too, the fact that you can't define your relationship, isn't my problem and I'd rather you leave."

Mor laughed in shock as her eyebrows shot up, "You're unbelievable," then she frowned, taking a step forward to push the door open, "Cassian and I aren't together. We never have been and I'm fucking lesbian."

Nesta's eyes widened in surprise, then she quickly recovered from her astonishment and shook her head, "It doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't it?"

"No, Morrigan," it was the first time she'd said her full name. That she was saying it directly to her, "It doesn't change anything because he would still leave in the middle of the night to come to you," she shifted her weight on her left foot, "It doesn't change anything because he chose you every day and I'm sorry I didn't realize that sooner. It would have saved everyone a lot more time and effort." then she held up a hand when she opened her mouth to retort, "And I don't care if you're lesbian or not. Cassian loves you and if he doesn't love you with words, he certainly does with actions."

Mor stared into her eyes for a while, silently, then nodded slowly, shifting her gaze to the houses around hers. She adjusted her sunglasses in her hair and then looked back at her, "Can I come in?"

"Why."

"Please, I just want to explain why what happened happened. And why things have changed or are changing, but I can't do that in half a minute and-" then she frowned, wincing, "Look, I'm not doing this because I particularly like you, but because Cassian has saved my life more times than he thinks and than he takes credit for. Talking to you is the least I can do to repay him in some way."

Nesta felt something tug at her heart and for a moment she thought about slamming the door in her face and going back to the couch to watch a black screen, but then she remembered the sleepless nights she'd spent thinking about what she could do. For her, for Cassian... to the person in front of her who was begging her to let her in, and she stepped aside.

The surprise on Mor's face was a small victory on Nesta's part, but she quickly recomposed herself, closing the door behind her once she was in the house and telling her to follow her into the living room.

And despite the situation, Mama Archeron had not raised her daughters to treat guests badly. She forced herself to say, "Can I get you anything? A drink, maybe water, I have wine if you want."

Mor gave the imitation of a smile, "I'd take something stronger, but I have to drive. Just water will do, thanks."

Nesta walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, and once inside she leaned against the table with both hands, breathing hard as if she had run a marathon. What was she doing?

She had let Morrigan, the reason for her break-up with the man she loved, into her house.

She closed her eyes, clenching her jaw, begging her body to relax, and then, when she realised it wouldn't take anyone that long to pick up two glasses and a bottle, she moved.

Walking back to the living room was like walking a thousand miles without ever eating, sleeping or drinking and by the time she sat down, she was exhausted. That conversation could have settled everything as well as confirmed any worries and erased any doubts Nesta had about leaving that city forever.

Mor drank a whole glass of water before she started talking and it didn't take long for her to realise that the girl was just as nervous as she was. The agitation evident only in the twirling motion of her ankle as she sat with her legs crossed.

She took a deep breath, "I've never talked about this with anyone but the boys." Nesta realized he was talking about Azriel and Rhysand, as well as Cassian. "So understand if I stop now and then, these aren't things I tell lightly."

She could only nod.

Mor cracked her fingers, then took a deep breath and brought one hand up to massage her right eyebrow, where Nesta had always noticed the small white scar that kept hair from growing there. It was the only thing that people could tell wasn't beautiful about the girl, but Nesta had never believed anything other than that it only added to her curiosity in getting to know the deity she actually was.

Every positive thought she'd ever had about that tiny scar disappeared as Mor began to speak and a horrible feeling clutched her stomach in an iron solid grip.

"My father is an alcoholic."

Nesta didn't react. She didn't know if she should say anything.

"He always has been. Even before I was born. I don't know how my mother ended up in a relationship with him, but she's a lost cause too. She started using drugs when I was around six. I still remember it like it was yesterday.

"Keir, my father, has also always been a violent man." Mor took a shaky breath, swallowing, "He did this to me," she whispered brushing the mark on her face, "when I was fourteen and got my period for the first time. He broke a bottle on my head-"

The fact she’d gotten her cycle so late only sprouted more doubts in Nesta’s mind while her thoughts ran wild, picturing a malnourished little girl in that broken home.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to," Nesta interrupted her, looking her in the eye, "I know you're trying to help me understand, that you're trying to help Cassian, but-"

Mor put a hand on her arm, blocking her, "Don't worry about it." she gave her a weak, sad smile, "I know I said I didn't like you, but Cassian loves you." seeing that Nesta was about to interrupt her one more time, she tightened her grip on her arm, "He loves you. And if this conversation ends the way I want it to, you'll be around for a long time to come. So you'd better be aware of everything, don't you think?"

There was something in Mor's voice that Nesta couldn't identify. She remained silent, contemplating her words, but then nodded weakly.

"There have been so many other episodes and I still bear the marks of most." she lowered her voice, clenching her fists several times. "If I'm here to tell you about them now though, it's only because of Cassian."

Nesta braced herself for what was to come.

Mor bit the inside of her cheek, "All the times he came to me in the night, all the times he left you alone at the last minute or had to come away in the middle of your dates... he was coming to save me." she said with teary eyes, "For years, they took turns as to who should come each time, between him and Rhys and Az. But when the other two had to leave a couple of years ago and only Cass stayed here, well," she sighed, propping an elbow on her knee and resting her forehead on her hand, "I feel guilty every day for what they do, what he does. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay him for everything he's managed to save in my life. My life itself. So I need you to understand that it's not his fault."

She looked into her eyes and Nesta was so shocked by everything she had just been told that she couldn't respond.

"The night you broke up with him," she resumed after a few moments, bringing a hand up to the neck of her jumper and shifting the fabric, revealing a portion of jagged skin just below her collarbone. The only evidence of just how bad the cut she had suffered must have been. "-I was going to die. Literally. I called the police so many times, Nesta, they never did anything. I didn't even try that night."

A rush of anger raced through her body at that truth. She knew she wasn't lying.

"My dad found out I liked girls, somehow, and things escalated quickly. My mom was half passed out on the couch and he had just come home," she paused abruptly, frowning. "The boys came into the house after I managed to lock myself in my room and while Az and Rhys were thinking about me, Cassian tried to take Kier down, that's why the broken arm."

Nesta's eyes went wide. For it to come to breaking a bone... it must have been a long night for everyone, frightening and scarring. She looked up at Mor, placing one hand on the one still on Nesta's arm and smiled reassuringly at her, but with a serious expression.

Mor returned the squeeze.

"I'm staying at Cassian's now, at least until the others find proper accommodation. We're all looking for a flat together so Cass can finally be free of us all." she said, fixing her eyes in hers, "From me. From everything."

Nesta nodded, then cleared her throat, finding her throat dry, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Why didn’t he, were the unspoken words.

Mor bit her lip, "It's my fault," she said apologetically, "I've been dealing with the opinion and criticism of the rest of the world my whole life. I didn't know you and all the guys' exes were always very quick to judge me without knowing anything at all about me. By the time I realised you weren't like the others it was too late."

"You can flip me off if this question is too personal, but why didn't you move out sooner? Why stay in that house if..." she didn't know how to finish the sentence, but it was enough to make the other answer.

"They controlled all my money and I was in no position to ask for financial support from the boys. I couldn't find anyone willing to help me get back what was mine by right, but we're looking for a way now. Az just got a job at a law firm, he just needs to convince them to take the case on probono." she smiled tensely and Nesta could tell that even that small act of generosity from her friend was weighing heavily on her.

Nesta ran her hands over her face, taking a deep breath as each piece fell into place and each question mark disappeared. Now that she knew the truth, it all made more sense.

But did that change things between her and Cassian? Did it change the fact that he had lied to her, despite for good reason?

She didn't have an answer.

But she did understand Mor. She understood why she had asked him not to tell her anything. It was the same reason she had never told anyone about Tomas except Cassian.

Looking at her out of the corner of her eye, as she poured herself another glass of water and drank it in one go, she made a decision.

She owed it to the person sitting next to her, to give Mor something back for the trust she’d put in her, she’d tell her everything about Tomas, her mother. The way her family had managed to heal and left her behind, alone, until Cassian.

She was about to open her mouth when Mor's phone rang and an amused smile appeared on her face. She lifted the phone so Nesta could see the caller's name and wrinkled her nose, "His ears must have been ringing, hmm?"

Mor chuckled and then answered, "Hello?"

In the deathly silence of the house, Nesta clearly distinguished the man's words.

"Mor, I'm so sorry about last night, we didn't mean to get drunk like that, I promise it won't happen again. I didn't think about what you would-"

"Calm down you overbearing mother hen," Mor said harshly, "but yes, it won't happen again."

"Where are you? Come home so I can make it up to you somehow."

The blonde smiled wickedly and looked at her nails before saying, "I'm at Nesta's."

A pregnant silence made its way into the room.

"What do you mean?"

"We're talking," the girl continued undisturbed.

Nesta had to restrain herself from laughing because she could well imagine the expression on his face at that moment.

"Mor, stop bullshitting."

"I'm not bullshitting, I'm serious, listen," and then she pushed the phone towards Nesta, who's eyes went wide, shaking her head. Mor nodded at her and she murmured a weak, "Hello, Cassian." before the blonde retracted the phone, bringing it to her ear again. "See?"

"What the fuck."

"Don't worry, I'll be home in less than ten minutes. I think." then she eyed Nesta, covering the microphone with one hand as Cassian began to insult her in every way imaginable. "Do you want to come with me?" she asked her with a hint of hope in her tone, "To talk to Cass maybe? I understand if you don't want to come, maybe you need more time."

But Nesta knew the truth now, and that seemed to be enough, so she nodded and smiled slightly at her. She owed it to Cassian too, to let him explain everything too.

Mor let out a squeak of happiness and then interrupted the list of insults that kept flowing from the phone, "Correction, we will be home in ten minutes."

“Morrigan-”

“Take a shower, we’ll be there in the blink of an eye.”

And then she ended the call without even saying goodbye.

Nesta snorted, "You gave him a heart attack."

Mor smiled at her, clapping her hands, "Do you need to get ready too?"

She looked at her clothes and thought that yes, she should have showered too, but furrowed her brow and grimaced, looking at her, "Actually, I wanted to apologize first. I know what it's like not to have the courage to talk about your problems and I know it must have been hard to talk to me. So thank you and sorry for calling you a cheating bitch."

Mor's eyes went wide, "He never told me-"

"Oh no, he doesn't know, but I felt the need to apologise for that too." she smiled sweetly.

The other burst out laughing and then they stayed at Nesta's for another good half hour, talking about their own terrible experiences with men, shedding a few tears and offering words of comfort only when necessary. They didn't notice how much time had passed until Az called Mor, asking if everything was all right. Overbearing mother hens, the blonde had said once the call had ended, but Nesta had gone to get dressed and now they were going to Cassian's house together.

Something had changed and she no longer felt the urge to slam Morrigan's head against the edge of the table every time she saw her, but things with Cassian would take weeks, months, before they were back to normal.

Or at least she thought so.

Cassian

"Cassian, where did you put... what the fuck are you doing?" asked Azriel as he entered his room.

His head snapped up, only giving his older brother a glance before he returned with his fullest attention to the room. He was running from side to side, tidying up as fast as he could, but with a broken arm, swamped with dirty laundry and cans poised on his fingers, he probably looked crazy now.

"Nesta is on her way here."

Azriel's eyes went so wide that for a moment he thought they were going to pop out of his head, "Meaning what?"

"Meaning that Morrigan," he grunted his friend's full name, wrinkling his nose when he found a pair of dirty underwear under the bed, "went to Nesta's house to talk and now she's bringing her here to-" he threw his arms up, dropping everything he'd picked up and feeling a note of pain in his left, but he didn't pay attention to it, "I don't know what she's bringing her here for, but this house is a mess and I have to shower and tidy everything up and find a way not to go crazy and make her-"

He froze suddenly again, feeling a gag of vomit rise in his throat after the unreasonable evening where they had probably scared Mor with all the alcohol they had ingested.

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair, "How long did she say they'd be here?"

Cassian shook his head, "I have no idea. I stared at the phone for ages after she hung up." he narrowed his eyes. "I need to wash up."

The other nodded, "Why don't you go take a shower and I'll clean up here? Rhys went out this morning and I don't have a clue where he is." he warned him, pushing him towards the bathroom.

Cassian had only grunted a vague reply to him and then gone to get ready and was genuinely shocked when he had come out and the house was actually all clean. He imagined that the two years he'd spent in the house with Rhys had paid off. He remembered how dirty and messy their room had been when they all still lived together.

He was tucking a t-shirt over his head when he heard Mor's ringing laughter followed by Nesta's controlled, but still lovely, laugh. Then Azriel said something else and they both burst into louder laughter and Cassian felt his heart tighten in his chest.

These last few weeks had been devastating.

When Nesta had told him to leave and never return, he'd had no choice.

It had been a matter of deciding between Mor's life and his relationship with Nesta, and as much as he loved her, there would be no way to convince his girlfriend that she had to go, that she couldn't let her friend get beaten up again. Or worse.

When he'd arrived at Kier's house, it had taken all his self-control not to grab the man's head and slam it against the wall and get it over with once and for all.

He'd spent the week after the breakup in bed, eating and only taking care of his body when others reminded him. With a broken arm it had been easy to tell everyone he couldn't do anything about it, but they'd heard him the times he'd cried at night thinking about Nesta and it had been Rhysand who'd told him to call her after ten days. He had simply shaken his head.

He couldn't do that to her. He couldn't drag her back into a relationship where his head wasn't one hundred percent present.

He should have left her long ago, he just didn't have the courage.

He heard Nesta's laughter again and shook his head, now was not the time to think about what had happened in Mor's life. He needed to focus on his own now. He had to at least try.

And if nothing changed, if he couldn't win her back, he owed her an apology, an explanation.

He slipped on the first clean pair of trousers he could find and then, with steps far too fast to seem vague, hurried down the hallway until he found himself standing in front of his brother, his friend and the woman he had been convinced would never leave him.

Her eyes immediately found his and the smile she was wearing instantly dropped when she saw him, but she gave a small nod, "Cass, hi."

He felt something break inside him and his gaze misted over.

Azriel gave a cough then walked towards the door, tying one arm around Mor's and pulling her towards the exit, "We'll leave you two alone, text me later, alright?" he asked, but he didn't wait for an answer and suddenly Cassian and Nesta were alone.

Alone after all that time.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, opening his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Nesta lowered her arms along her sides and smiled weakly, "I think we should talk."

He couldn't get the lump in his throat down, so he just nodded, pointing to the living room.

She looked well.

Not well physically, but she seemed to be more relaxed, more at ease than the other day.

Her cheeks were still hollowed out and the dark circles under her eyes so deep that the temptation to ask her if they could go to bed and sleep, cuddled up like they used to, so they could both finally close their eyes for real without regrets and nightmares pulling them from sleep was so high that he felt something crack in his chest again, for the millionth time.

He only wished he could hold her one last time.

When they were both sitting up, mere inches between them, Nesta inspected him as he had inspected her up to that point and saw the way her throat moved when she swallowed air, probably trying not to burst into tears herself.

They must have looked pitiful.

"How are you?" she managed to say, in a weak voice.

Cassian looked at her face some more, deciding whether to lie or not. He took a deep breath before answering, "I've never been worse in my life."

The muscles in her face twitched as she tried to keep her emotions at bay. She nodded softly, shifting her gaze to the unlit television, "I've seen better days too," she murmured, torturing her fingers, "Even before you came into my life I didn't think I could ever be this bad."

"Nes..."

Her eyes closed tightly. Feeling the emotion attached to that single word, her name whispered with that clear desperation.

She tried to change the subject as quickly as she could, "Mor told me everything. Why you ran away every time like someone was holding a gun to your head," she began, getting straight to the point, not wanting to waste any more time. She couldn't look at him though, despite the fact that there was now nothing but truth between them. "It was because it was admittedly life and death situations."

Cassian took a sharp breath, "I shouldn't have-"

"You shouldn't have, no," she interrupted him. "You shouldn't have, and if we had communicated in any way - if you had even tried to explain to me what the hell was going on, you knew. God, you knew, I wouldn't have blamed Morrigan. That I would have offered her a home if I'd known how serious the matter was."

He felt his stomach clench so tightly he thought he was going to throw up.

"I just want to be able to trust you." she whispered after a few moments of silence.

"You can." he replied immediately, "You can." he repeated, trying to convince her.

Nesta looked up at him. She licked her bottom lip, biting into the skin there a moment later and then shifted her gaze to the floor, "I miss you."

Cassian had to swallow a breath before he could speak, "I miss you too."

She said nothing and he continued.

"I miss you every damn second of the day. And at night, when I can't sleep, thinking about you, I stay awake until I pass out from exhaustion." his voice became rougher as he tried not to think about the day they had met, when he had found her asleep on the floor of that filthy library. "And when sleep doesn't come I regret and blame myself for all the wrongs that have happened."

"Every unspoken thing. Every misstep, every broken promise." said Nesta in a trembling voice. When her eyes fixed on him one more time, he no longer knew how to breathe when she murmured, "Cassian you broke me."

And the single tear that rolled down her cheek broke the last whole part of him.

He couldn't stop the instinct when his hand reached up to her face, the tips of his fingers brushing against her cheek and they both sighed, locking gazes.

And in an instant, the second his palm clung completely to her skin and Nesta closed her eyes, reveling in that touch and thrusting against his hand, Cassian felt every broken piece, every splinter and shard of his soul return to its proper place.

"I'm sorry." he said, extending his other hand to cup her face as well. "I'm sorry, for everything. Please forgive me." I love you, Nesta, please forgive me.

And as if she had heard him, she opened her eyes and nodded slightly before they both let go of a breath of relief that still echoed through the room when she launched herself forward, crashing her mouth against his in a desperate kiss that tasted of salt and love.

five years, three months and two days before

When Cassian had invited her on a date, this was definitely not what she had expected. After all, she doubted it was even remotely close to what Cassian himself had expected.

Their second-first date wasn't supposed to take place in a hospital, yet there they were.

Cassian was lying on the bed when Nesta entered the room. A tight bandage around his head was the only sign of the actual blow he had taken when he had carelessly fallen down the stairs in his haste to leave the house.

As soon as he saw her, his mouth split open in a bright smile, "Love..."

Nesta, who had stopped in the doorway and replied with an equally dazzling smile, felt her heart tighten in her chest at that pet name. The morphine they had given him must have kicked in. She took a hesitant step forward, clasping her hands around her bag, "How are you feeling?"

Cassian chuckled, turning to the nurse who had accompanied Nesta all the way there - Gwyneth, she had read on the label attached to her scrubs - before saying, "She cares how I feel."

The flame-haired girl snorted a laugh, "No shit." she said in a mocking tone, this time turning to Nesta.

She had the decency to blush under the nurse's amused eyes. After all, she had come into the emergency room demanding to know what had happened and where he was at that moment.

Gwyneth had been the one to reach her first and tell her everything she needed to know about the physical state of Cassian, who had apparently lied about Nesta being his wife.

The nurse wasn't stupid, and she'd told her as much when she'd realised that neither of them were wearing wedding rings, but seeing how terrified Nesta had been as soon as she'd set foot in the emergency room, she'd turned a blind eye and assured them that after a quick check to make sure Cassian was okay, she'd give them some time alone.

"She cares how I feel," Cassian murmured again, almost not believing the fact that Nesta was there, for him. Then he turned back to her and opened his mouth wide when he realised what she was wearing. He brought his good hand to his chest, over his heart, and whispered, "You are killing me."

"Try not to die while I'm on duty, please," the nurse muttered, before warning them that everything looked fine and that if he passed out they should call her immediately. She walked past Nesta, brushing her shoulder and winking at her, but she hardly noticed.

She only had eyes for Cassian.

When Mor had called her, telling her there had been a little accident, the world had fallen in on her. She'd kept it together until her new found friend had told her that they'd taken Cassian to the hospital by ambulance after he'd passed out from a very hard blow to the head. She'd been vague about how it had happened, but Nesta suspected that Cassian had already been late and had been running down the stairs when he'd fallen.

She certainly wasn't going to ask him tonight, because her non-boyfriend was out of it and completely high on drugs. And the only thing she cared about at that moment was that constant sound of the machines monitoring his heart, assuring her that he was alive, breathing.

The second the door closed behind her, Nesta moved and it wasn't even five minutes before she found herself lying next to him on the bed, her heels forgotten on the floor as Cassian wrapped his good arm around her and intertwined their fingers.

She rested her head on his chest and felt the way his lungs released a sigh of relief at the contact of their bodies. She could feel the beat of his heart, rapid and steady, alive, beneath her fingers.

They weren't saying anything to each other, and Nesta knew there was no need to.

In the end, it had always been like that between them. Their mere companionship was more than enough.

It wasn't until an hour later, when she began to close her eyes, that Cassian moved his other arm up to touch her shoulder, drawing her attention.

She lifted her head enough to rest her chin on his chest, and when she met Cassian's eyes, she smiled faintly at the expression of pure love and devotion that shone on his face.

She saw the way his Adam's apple moved up and then down as he swallowed and the way his eyelids flickered and he hunched his shoulders, wrapping his arms around her body. Before Cassian could speak, she did, "I love you."

And maybe it was the moment, the emotion that had surely both built up in the weeks leading up to their date that had ended in ruin, the sheer desperation and loneliness they had felt in that long month away from each other, but Cassian closed his eyes, nodding softly, "I love you, Nesta."

She leaned higher, stretching her neck towards him and pressing their bodies together until her mouth brushed against his. The kiss was not hasty, not desperate like the emotions racing through their hearts. It was like a window to the future. Their lips moved slowly in harmony, without worry, without urgency in that infinite kiss.

Because they both knew that there would be no one else for the rest of their days and they had all the time in the world to show each other the strong emotions of life. In that moment, they were each other's calm and strength.

When they broke away, it was only because Gwyneth had brought them food. If cherry jelly could be considered food. Either way, they'd been forced to interrupt their make out session to stock up on some sweet, clear edible stuff, which Nesta had devoured like few things in her life. Cassian had left her half of his portion and then they had snuggled back under the covers, talking about this and that, happy just to be both alive in this cruel world.

four years, six months and twenty-one days earlier

"When did you say they were coming?"

Nesta shifted her gaze to Mor's face, who kept her head resting on her thighs while her very long, very smooth legs remained on display against the wall of their living room. The position couldn't have been the best, especially considering the amount of alcohol her friend had swallowed, but the blonde had promised not to vomit on her so Nesta had no choice but to accept her temporary role as a pillow.

She shrugged, taking a sip from her glass, realising that the wine had finished. "They said they'd be here around ten, so any minute now." Mor nodded absentmindedly, toying with a lock of Nesta's hair.

Someone took the glass from her hand and she lifted her head just in time for her lips to collide with Cassian's, who had intended to kiss her on the forehead. They both smiled into the kiss and when he made to pull away to go and refill her glass, Nesta grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back to her mouth, making him laugh.

A cry of disgust came from down between them, "I preferred you when you weren't together."

Without taking his eyes off of Nesta's, Cassian told her to fuck off, adding shortly after, "Remind me who went to Nes' house to beg her to get back with me."

The blonde mumbled something not too nice and Rhys, who sat next to Azriel on the couch opposite to theirs, was about to retort, when the front door rang once and then twice. Az frowned, eyeing Nesta, "They're impatient."

Nesta shrugged again, a gesture she'd begun to pull too often and which Cassian said stemmed from her spending too much time with Mor.

That was going to be the night her sisters would meet her new group of friends from a few months back and Nesta knew it would go smoothly. Elain would be her usual kind and festive self and Feyre would have everyone in that room wrapped around her fingers in a matter of seconds. She didn't have to worry.

Besides, the only opinion she really cared about was her boyfriend's, and Cassian had had a chance to get to know his sisters well before their breakup.

Rhys had gotten up, staggering just enough to go answer the door, but Cassian had already done the honors, and when the youngest of the brothers looked up at the newcomers, he stumbled over his own steps for a completely different reason than the alcohol in his veins.

Feyre Archeron stood at the entrance to the living room in all her beauty. The tight black dress she had chosen to wear showed off everything the younger of the sisters had to offer and Rhysand looked more than ready to pick up every bit of whatever she threw at him.

Elain walked past her with nonchalance, greeting Cassian with a chaste kiss on the cheek, then introducing herself to Azriel and Mor, who had pulled herself up to hold her in a breathless hug.

Nesta felt Feyre's gaze on her and turned to her, waving whimsically. Feyre chuckled, shaking her head, "How much have you had to drink already?"

Nesta would have replied that she didn't know if Rhysand hadn't lunged forward towards her, risking bumping into Cassian, who was returning from the kitchen with a chalice full of wine for her and her sister.

Her boyfriend's eyes went wide, "What the fuck, Rhys, be careful."

But it was as if no one but Feyre existed for the man anymore.

Feyre stepped back, eyeing Cassian and taking the glass with a simple thank you. Az had approached as well, but as he tried to speak, Rhys interrupted him.

"Hello Feyre darling, I'm Rhysand."

Nesta rolled her eyes, just as Mor did beside her, and Elain chuckled.

Meanwhile, Feyre had never seemed so hesitant in her life. Nesta saw the moment she decided to let go and reached out to shake Rhysand's hand. And then Feyre used the voice that Nesta had only ever heard her use when her sister wanted to get something out of the evening and understood perfectly well how it was going to turn out in a few hours. "Feyre, but I assume you already knew that."

The look Rhys gave her and the nod of assent he did made her think that maybe they wouldn't even wait hours, but mere minutes before leaving the party to go find somewhere more secluded.

When the introductions were over, Cassian took a seat next to her, forcibly pushing Mor away until Nesta was clear of everyone else. Circling her shoulders with one arm and pulling her as close to him as possible, Nesta soon found herself sitting on his lap, sipping wine as one of his hands rested on her thigh, massaging circles with his thumb.

Hours passed between board games and indecent jokes exchanged between the younger in the room and Nesta thought she could never be happier than she was in that moment.

Relaxed as she was, it didn't take Nesta long to let herself go completely and when Elain and Azriel also started talking about their partners respectively, sharing funny stories on how they met, she closed her eyes as well, lulled by Cassian's breath on her face and the fleeting kisses he occasionally left on her cheek.

She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn't find the strength to open hers, and it wasn't until Feyre and Rhys had left and Mor and Azriel had offered Elain a ride that Cassian held her tighter in his arms and carried her to their room, where a bed that had smelled like both of them for two months now remained unmade from that morning's activities.

And though exhaustion was at an all-time high, it wasn't until Cassian lay down behind her, pressing his chest against her back and wrapping himself around her, that sleep finally found them both.

the day

Nesta kept one hand on Cassian's shoulder and the other on his forearm as he rocked her on the dance floor of the venue they had chosen for their wedding.

A few feet away from them, over her husband's shoulder - husband, she was going to have to get used to that title from now on - she could see Elain by the buffet tables laughing carefree as she held onto Lucien, who was laying both hands on her ready-to-burst baby bump, talking to his girls. Nesta smiled as she thought of the countless times she had caught Lucien on his knees entertaining his two unborn twins with conversations about sports.

Moving her gaze to the other side of the runway, she saw Feyre clinging to Rhys, who was surely whispering to her about all the dirty things they could do in the wardrobe of that place judging by her sister's lost and giddy expression.

Trying not to think too much about Feyre in compromising positions, she found Mor and Emerie at the bar, drinking leaning against each other, exchanging jokes that Nesta knew had to do with the outfits of some of their relatives.

A little further on still, Azriel was pirouetting Gwyn so elegantly that she felt a note of jealousy. Az had a faint smile on his lips, but the way his eyes twinkled as he admired her friend's fiery red hair twirling as she spun and spun made her wonder how much longer he was going to wait before he proposed.

She was about to voice her doubts when Cassian's hands lightly squeezed her hips and she shifted her full attention to the man of her life.

Nesta's breath caught for the thousandth time that day when she looked into his eyes.

She raised an eyebrow in question. Cassian smiled, bringing a hand to her face and brushing her cheek, "You look beautiful." he whispered in a hoarse voice.

Her features relaxed and she smiled back, "You're not bad yourself, Mr. Archeron."

Cassian threw his head back, moaning awkwardly and drawing the attention of everyone present. Azriel gave them an amused look and Nesta waved a hand in mid-air, to say it was nothing fancy.

"Mr. Archeron." repeated Cassian, pulling her away from him for a second, as if expecting from that specific dance, only to pull her back against his chest a second later. "If I hear you call me any other name in bed from now on, I might file for divorce."

Nesta chuckled, moving a hand to his chest, "Of course, my love."

His eyes softened even more when they moved back to her face. And Nesta searched his expression for something to tell her that he regretted his decision. That he was lying to her and that in fact the idea of bearing her surname, of being linked to her, repulsed him.

She found nothing that day. Just as she would find nothing in the years to come.

Only adoration and love and respect for the woman she had become thanks to him.

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[outerbankspreferences]

Love Story - JJ Maybank

Request: Anonymous said:A jj imagine where the reader and him are secretly dating cause she’s a kook but she has a “fake” (rafe doesn’t think it’s fake and wants it to be real) relationship with rafe because their parents made them date for the family buisness or whatever and rafe catches them meeting up one night or something and he tells her parents and they go and get her and she fights to be with him??? (Sorry Ik it’s super long lol)

MASTERLIST

WORD COUNT: 6485

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long to post, but I’ve been going through some stuff and working, but I hope you enjoy this, Plus this is the longest fic I’ve ever written.

  We were both young when I first saw you I close my eyes and the flashback starts I'm standin' there On a balcony in summer air See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns See you make your way through the crowd And say, "Hello" Little did I know

  You were stuck at another Kook event hosted by the country club your parents attend. Your parents were one of the wealthier families in the Outer banks. Your father was the district attorney, and your mother was an accomplished writer. You always hated the flashy money lifestyle they lived, finding it completely fake. The only other family that came closer to yours were the Cameron’s’. Ward and Rose Cameron had plenty of businesses and investments which helped them claim high status on the Figure Eight.

 It’s didn’t surprise anyone how close the two families were. You and Sarah were close friends considering you were the same age. You and Sarah bonded over many shopping trips and getaways. You weren’t as close with her other siblings, finding Wheezie annoying and Rafe stuck up. You thought maybe Rafe would grow out of things as he got older, but he grew into a nasty personality that your parents were oblivious to.

 It had been your father and Ward’s idea to set the two of you up. Ward was trying to sneak his way into your lives, thinking the DA wouldn’t be a bad friend to have when he needed something done. Your father thought Rafe was a “wonderful young gentleman with plenty to offer.” You didn’t think anything of it when it would just be your parents and the two of you until you found out from Sarah that she wasn’t invited because of this arrangement.

 You were happy to carry on the façade if it helped your parents. What could it hurt? A few supper dates and showing up to events together. At least you wouldn’t have suffer through dumb Kook things alone. Soon enough you and Rafe started to hang out even when you didn’t have to. You liked seeing this side of Rafe, a more vulnerable side. He was carefree and silly when he was with you. Rafe had found himself falling for you and all your quirks. He had been feeling a lot of pressure from his father about taking over the business, and you seemed to ease some of the pressure from him.

 You thought he was an okay person before he started doing drugs. You were fine with smoking weed considering you smoked yourself. You were even okay with the partying and drinking, but when you found out he was snorting coke, it went too far for you. You had talked to him about and he would always brush it off as being too stressed and it helped him. He would always get upset when you talked about, so you tried to avoid the subject.

 Soon enough the drugs took over his life and he started to sell them. The people he hung out with scared you, so you kept your distance. It was rolling around to Midsummers and you were nervous of going with Rafe. He seemed to be snapping at you more and more lately and you weren’t looking forward to seeing him.

 ~~

You and Sarah had gone to the mainland one day to go dress shopping and have lunch. You guys were wondering around the store when she started going on about some boy she had met. “I don’t know Y/N, he’s so great but things are so complicated.” Sarah spoke, but you didn’t understand. The last time you checked she was seeing Topper, and things were going great. “Wait are we talking about Topper? What can be complicated there, he’s a nice guy.” You questioned. “What if I’m not talking about Topper?” She trailed off, trying to gage your reaction. “I don’t know you guys were having troubles, but if he doesn’t make you happy then you should probably move on before it gets too serious.” You skimmed through some more dresses, grabbing a green one you liked. “Wait, if you’re not seeing Topper then, who is it?” You looked over at her.

 “You promise not to tell anyone?” She asked almost whispering like the other people in the store might be listening. You nodded encouraging her to tell you. “John B.” She whispered. “John B. that works on your dads bought John B.? Oh-Rose is going to so pissed.” You laughed to yourself. “Yeah, we had some weird encounter the other day after the Boneyard party.” “You mean the party that he fought Topper, and that JJ Maybank almost shot him?” You recounted the last party you guys went too; things had gotten out hand quickly. “You know how things went down Y/N, Topper almost killed John B.” She reminded you. “Well, if he makes you happy then I say go for it. I’ll support you. I mean, he’s friends are pretty hot.” You giggled thinking about how attractive you found JJ.

 You never tried to pursue anything with JJ because everyone knew he didn’t go for Kooks, or actual relationships. It was more of a “one and done” kind of scenario with him, and you knew that’s not what you wanted. It didn’t stop you from checking him out from your bedroom window when he came to mow your lawn once a week.

 ~~

The night of midsummers had finally rolled around, and you were getting everything ready. You had your hair appointment earlier in the day and now you were getting the finishing touches of your makeup down and giggling with Sarah. “Are you guys almost done?” Rose had come in seeming inpatient. This year the Cameron’s were getting honored for all the hard work Ward had down for the community and you had to walk in with them. “Uh yeah we’re almost done, just finishing up.” You spoke up. Rose let out a huff and told you guys to be downstairs in five minutes. “Oh god, I think that crowns gone to her head.” Sarah spoke up making you laugh out loud. “What’s so funny in here?” Rafe came in texting on his phone. He was wearing a baby blue suit and you had on a simple off-white gown. When Rafe looked at you his jaw dropped. He had been to plenty events with you, but you had never gotten this dressed up. He thought looked stunning in your dress. “Holy shit Y/L/N, you look amazing” he spoke causing you to blush. Rose called up to you guys again pulling you from you trance. You and Sarah got up and headed downstairs and Rafe said he needed to get something from his room.

 You guys were downstairs taking pictures with your family when you father asked where Rafe was. “I’m right here” Rafe spoke coming around the corner. You could see a bit of white powder on his suit and you knew exactly what he went to do. You rushed up and brushed the bit of powder away before anyone could tell and he let out a silent thank you. Once you got the pictures done, everyone got ready to leave, but you pulled Rafe aside for a second.

 “No funny business, promise?” You asked looking into his eyes, but all you could see were blown pulps and him rolling them. “When do I ever cause problems?” He countered obviously annoyed. “I’m not saying that Rafe, I’m just saying that I don’t want anything to happen like last time.” You explained. He moved out of your grip and headed for the door. “As long as those Pouges don’t cause any problems then we have nothing to worry about.”

 ~~

You practically avoided Rafe like the plague the rest of the night. You and Sarah had dance for awhile before you were interrupted by JJ Maybank, “this is from Vlad.” He shouted over the music before moving to scoop you up in his arms spinning you around as he handed something to Sarah. You looked at her confused, but she was smiling like an idiot. You gave JJ a weird look, “young love, makes people do crazy things.” He spoke still dancing with you.

 You got a good look at his face; it had a few scars and a small black eye. You pretended not to notice, even though you knew it was from the movie night last week. Rafe had come home with the similar marks.

 That you were Romeo, you were throwin' pebbles And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet" And I was cryin' on the staircase Beggin' you, "Please don't go, " and I said

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

 “Where’s your plus one princess?” JJ asked pulling you a little closer to him. You couldn’t help but blush at the nickname. “He’s somewhere”- “I’m right here Maybank, and I’m pretty sure you’re dancing with my girl.” Rafe stepped in, “do you mind getting me another drink, you’re working here right?” He said in nasty tone. “Well, I would you see, but I’m super busy,” JJ spoke trying to get away from the death grip Rafe had on the collar of his shirt. “Rafe, stop please, you promised.” You cut in, not wanting to cause a scene. Rafe let go of JJ and grabbed you by the arm pulling you away. You sent an apologetic look to JJ before leaving with Rafe.

 Rafe had pulled you all through the venue before he got to the balcony on the second floor. “What the hell Y/N? Do you know how that looks to everyone when you defend some low life over me?” He yelled at you. You had never seen Rafe this angry with you before. “Why does it even matter, it’s not like we’re actually dating. We’re doing this to help our parents out.” You raised your voice at him. “These people don’t know that,” he gestured to everyone downstairs. “they think we’re together, but know they think you’re with that scumbag.” “Shut up Rafe, you don’t know anything about him.” You hollered at him. He had no right to say those things about JJ.

 What you didn’t know was that JJ was watching from the party. He knew what Rafe was like when he was angry. He wanted to go after you when Rafe drug you away, but he also didn’t want to cause any drama towards you. He watched the two of you go up the balcony. When he saw Rafe getting in your face he headed towards the balcony to make sure you were okay.

 When he got up there, he could tell you were crying, and he could still hear Rafe yelling at you. “Is everything okay Y/N?” He asked walking towards you and Rafe shook his head, “everything is fine pouge, mind your own damn business.” JJ ignored what Rafe was saying, walking towards you, “do you want to come downstairs Y/N?” he asked softly, trying to calm you down. “Look, I said we’re fine, she’s fine”- “oh yeah, most girls are fine when they’re crying like that.” JJ cut Rafe off, and you finally spoke up. “I want to go home, JJ can you please take me home.” You asked him, not looking at Rafe. “Y/N don’t be dramatic. I can take you home, we came here together.” Rafe reasoned with you, but you didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

 JJ led you out of the venue and towards the door when Kelce and Topper stopped him. “Oh shit.” He mumbled under his breath, but you heard. You grabbed his hand, silently telling him you were scared, and he tucked you behind him. “Hey there Maybank, where do you think you’re going?” Kelce asked, looking down at you. “Great choice of company Y/N, hanging with trash like yourself.” He snickered, and JJ pushed him back, “what the hell did you just say about her.” He questioned and Topper pushed JJ. You saw security make there way over with your father and Rafe.

 Once you left with JJ, Rafe had gone to find your father, and update him on the “bad influences” you had been hanging out with. Of course, to your father Rafe was once again the hero, even though he had been making you cry not only ten minutes earlier.

 You pulled on JJ’s sleave, “J please, can we go.” You pleaded not wanting to have this fight out in the open. Before you and JJ had the chance to make a quick getaway you father grabbed you by the arm. “Y/N what are you doing?” He asked in a hush tone pulling you away from JJ before security escorted him out. You looked back at sent JJ and apologetic look and he just winked at you.

 Your father took you home after that and you got the third degree from both he and your mom. “He’s a pouge Y/N/N, you deserve so much more.” You mother said, she wasn’t nearly as upset as your father. “I thought things were going well between you and Rafe, you guys seemed to get along so well.” She questioned. “How do you know what he’s like, you’ve never met him. I was just trying to help him get out before Rafe and his goon squad could cause a bigger scene.” You informed them. “Oh please, had Rafe not come got me, that Maybank’ kid would have started a fight with those boys. I’ve heard the stories Y/N, and I’ve talked to Deputy Shoupe. He’s told me all about his father’s business.”

 Your father was being harsh. You didn’t know much about JJ, but everyone on this island knew about his hot temper. “I don’t want to catch you around that boy again. Do you understand me?” He asked, “yes, I understand you.” You responded trying to put the conversation to rest.

 You stuck to your word, but it really wasn’t that hard. You guys lived on opposite sides of the island and never ran into each other. You had only seen him once at the Wreck and you were too nervous to go talk to him, plus he was just leaving with his friends. You spent a lot of nights thinking about him. You don’t know why he stuck up for you with Rafe that night, but you were glad he had.

 The next time you saw JJ alone was at the beach. You had gone out early in the morning to paint the sunrise. There was a quiet spot on the beach that no one knew of. It was off the beaten path and was always so calm. Art was your way to escape everything and just be in the moment. When you got there, you noticed someone was already there surfing. You couldn’t tell from the shore who it was, but you decided to stay anyways.

 You got yourself all settled and started to sketch the outlines, including the surfer. You had your music playing softly in the background just enjoying being in the moment. You must have zoned out because once you looked back up you noticed the person surfing was coming from the water. You were shocked to recognize JJ’s signature blonde shaggy hair. ‘Of course, it had to be him’ you thought to yourself. You hoped he wouldn’t recognize you, considering the last time he saw you; you were all dressed up for midsummers.

 You went back to your painting, trying to look busy but that didn’t stop him from coming up to you. “Y/N?” He asked even though he knew it was you. “Oh, hi JJ, how are you?” You asked looking up at him. The sun was making a halo around him, and he looked gorgeous. “I’m good, what are you doing out here so early?” He asked, JJ thought he was the only one who knew of this place. “Uh, I’m just trying to get some sketches done. The sun always hits the marsh so nice out here in the morning.” You explained as he dropped his surf bored to sit next to you.

 You moved over so he would have space on the blanket, and he helped himself to some of the fruit your brought with you. “I never think to bring snacks, you have anything else to eat?” He asked, “yeah I have some yogurt and granola in the backpack.” You told him and rummaged through to find it. You didn’t mind him eating it, you weren’t hungry anyways.

 JJ was grateful that you let him eat your food. John B was away and the meant he couldn’t go over there and get food. He had eaten at the Wreck a couple of times, but he could only live off leftover fish and chips for so long. He basically inhaled the yogurt, finally getting a good look at what you were painting. It was the marsh, with him surfing. He didn’t know you were that talented. You guys made small talk while you finished the picture. JJ couldn’t understand why he wanted to be around you, maybe it was the calming effect you had on him.

 Of course, he had seen you around the island before, but he never paid much attention. You were a Kook and by island rules, you were off limits. He knew that at midsummers, but he couldn’t help but step in when Rafe was treated you poorly. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble at Midsummers.” He spoke up. You hadn’t expected him to bring the conversation up. “Oh, don’t apologize. If anything, I owe you an apology. My dad shouldn’t have had your escorted like some”- “Criminal?” JJ cut in, still a little upset with being kicked out. “yeah, like that.” You said, “if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re a criminal. I mean I don’t really know you, but I don’t get the criminal vibes, y’know?” You spoke causing the both of you to laugh.

 “Is that me in your painting?” He asked looking over your shoulder and you could feel his breath on your skin. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his tan skin on your own. “Uh-yeah it is. But I didn’t know it was you when I started, so does that make it less weird?” You asked, not looking at him. “It’s not weird, I’m flatter that you would include me in your drawing.” He told you and you could sense the honesty in his voice. You finished up some little details before signing it at the bottom with a heart handing it over to the blonde. “Here you can have it. I have too many drawings of this place anyways.” JJ took the drawing and placed it safely in his book bag.

 You both collected your things getting ready to leave. “Maybe we can meet here again?” JJ asked hopeful you would take him up on his offer. “Uh, yeah sure. How about tomorrow?” You suggest, wanting to see him as soon as possible. “Alright, let’s meet here around 8 tomorrow morning.” “Okay.” You say smiling like an idiot before JJ is leaving in his truck.

 It became a ritual between the two of you. Always meeting up there to hang out. It was easier to keep it a secret from everyone. JJ wasn’t worried about the Pouges knowing, but he knew the Kooks would never let you live it down. Of course, you didn’t care about that, but it was your family you worried about. JJ knew the pressure they put on you to be the perfect daughter and it was not easy shoes to fill. It started out innocent, just hanging out talking, you would bring food for JJ, and he would make you forgot about the pressure of being a Kook for a couple of hours.

 You and JJ shared your first kiss there too. It was late one night when you heard something being thrown at your window. You had cancelled plans with JJ because of fight with your father. It was the same argument about not spending enough time with Rafe, and how it reflected badly on him and his business. It didn’t matter to him that Rafe was seeing other girls, he was blind to the Cameron’s ways. When you got up to look out the window you saw JJ standing there waving to you. He was worried when you cancelled because you had never done that before.

 “What are you doing here?” You asked looking out the window. “Come down and see me, I missed you.” He spoke trying not to be too loud. You heart flutter thinking that he missed hanging out with you. You threw on some shoes and ran down the stairs.

 Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

So I sneak out to the garden to see you We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew So close your eyes Escape this town for a little while, oh

 Once you got outside you jumped into JJ arms giggling. The two of you took off to his truck parked down the street. “Where are we going?” You asked curiosity getting the best of you. “To our spot, I figured you need some time away.” He spoke up as he drove. You relaxed into the worn leather of the truck, and JJ was happy that you found comfort in the truck with him. He backed into the beach and the two of you got out into the bed of the truck. He grabbed some blankets from his bed at that chateau before he left and put them down to make a somewhat comfortable spot to lay down.

 The two of you laid looking up at the stars and he started point out constellations in they sky. “And there’s Ursa Major.” He pointed towards the sky, “where I don’t see it?” You spoke sounding frustrated. He took your hand in his and pointed it towards the stars, “that’s the tail those 3 stars there, and then her body and legs.” He guided your hand to point in the direction of where he was talking about. “oh, I see it now!” You exclaimed giggling.

 JJ knew at this moment that he was in love with you. He knew at this exact moment he would do anything for you. He thought that you were the most kind and gentle person he ever met, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He was pulled from his thoughts when you spoke up, “huh?” he blushed realizing you were still holding his hand. “I asked, how do you know were all these constellations are?” JJ wasn’t prepared for this conversation. You didn’t know much about his home life; he never spoke about it so you assumed he would tell you when he was ready. You could sense that he was nervous, and you squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture.

 “uh-my mom used to take me down to the beach when I was kid. We would spend hours looking at the stars and she would show me all of the constellations.” He spoke not looking at you. You watched him, he was biting his lip, a tell tale sign he was nervous. “That sounds wonderful J, it must have been nice.” You spoke softly not sure if he wanted to take the conversation and farther. “She left. I don’t know, I was like in the third grade, I think. I don’t know why, but she never came back. I guess we weren’t enough for her. My dad never forgave himself, or me for it.” He almost whispered the last part, like he didn’t want you to hear.

 You had seen the bruises and asked him about it, but he always blamed it on a run in with the Kooks, but you finally put two and two together. “He’s the one who hurts you isn’t he?” You ask never looking from him. It was a vulnerable conversation to have and you wanted him to know you were there for him. It was the first time he looked over at you since he started talking, and you could see the tears in his eyes. “Yeah, he is. He gets drunk to cope with mom leaving and then starts to yell. It’s the same thing every time, he says I have her eyes. When he’s sobers again, he apologizes but he’s stuck in vicious cycle.” You leaned closer to him resting your head on his shoulder, “one day we’re going to leave this stupid town and find our own place, I promise.” You whispered to him; you weren’t looking at him, but you knew he was smiling.

 JJ looked over at you and leaned down locking his lips onto yours. It was like a dream come true. It was everything he wanted it to be and more. You were feeling the same thing, over the last little while hanging out with JJ you had developed a crush on him but didn’t want him to know scared the feelings wouldn’t be returned.

 You both stayed in each other arms for what felt like hours when he stopped, “what time is it princess?” He asked grabbing your phone looking at the time. That’s when he saw the countless text messages from your parents. “oh shit.” He cursed under his breath. You gave him a confused look. “what? What’s wrong J?” You ask looking at your phone coming to same realization.

 'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet" But you were everything to me I was beggin' you, "Please don't go, " and I said

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes" Romeo, save me, they're tryna tell me how to feel This love is difficult, but it's real Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes" Oh, oh

 The two of you started to get everything packed up texting your parents to tell them you were on your way home. Just as you were climbing back in the truck another set of headlights came into view. It was weird because this was a quite a way from the rest of the island and it was late at night. “Get in the car.” JJ said to you, opening the door. You could sense his nervousness when the car came to stop. “Let’s just go JJ, probably some kids looking for a place to hook up.” You spoke wanting to go home.

 To both of your surprise your father had called Rafe asking if you were with him. When Rafe said that he hadn’t seen you all night he offered to check some of the places you hung out the most. After interrogating some hopeless Pouge, they finally told him that he saw JJ Maybank’s truck head to secluded area of the island. The kid told him that he saw you in the truck with him, and then ran off. Rafe headed towards the south end of the island watching for JJ’s truck. Once he had driven the whole south end of the island, he circled back to Topper’s place to in list his help.

 Topper got into Rafe’s truck pissed off because Rafe had interrupt his date with a girl he had been trying to win over for like a week. “What was so important I had to leave Kate for?” He asked as Rafe pulled out of the driveway. “Y/N’s dad called me and said she snuck out and she’s not answering her phone. You’re going to help me find her.” He explained. Topper was still confused. “Why do you need my help? She’s probably at a friend’s house, did you try calling her? Plus, I thought you were with that girl from the mainland now?” Topper inquired. “Yeah, well I ask around and someone said they saw her hanging out with that low life Maybank and she deserves better.” “Oh well then she’s probably on the old station road, someone told me that his trucks been out there a lot lately.”

 Rafe was fuming with anger. He was sick of you messing around with a pouge making him look bad. He also knew that he wanted to work for her father one day and getting in good with his daughter was a good way to do it. They two men pulled down the road and drove until the saw the familiar truck and watched JJ help you get in the passenger seat. Rafe had texted your father the location and told him it was best he come; this would be a good opportunity to look good in front of him again.

 You recognized the truck as soon as it came to a stop, along with your heart. JJ could tell you were scared by the way you gripped his arm. You gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry JJ.” You said and he looked at you confused until he saw who was getting out of the truck. He eyes widen at the sight of both Rafe and Topper. JJ protectively pushed you behind him before walking up to Rafe. “What’s going on here?” Rafe asked looking over at you. “Just taking Y/N home, what are you guys doing out so late?” JJ asked in a calm tone not wanting to come off threatening. He just wanted to get you home without out any fights.

 Rafe had other plans on his mind. If he was going to look good in front of your father this was one of his only chances. He gave JJ a shove, “oh yeah? What are you doing with my girl Maybank?” JJ stood his ground before getting up in Rafe’s face too, you went to grab JJ’s arm trying to avoid the fight that was about to break out. “I’m not your girl Rafe. Please JJ can we just go home.” JJ looked down at you, “can you please move your truck Rafe so I can get her home.” He asked through gritted teeth. “No Topper and I’ll take her home. She doesn’t need to be hanging out with some piece of shit from the Cut.” He said his words twisting like a knife in his back.

 JJ was beyond angry at this point, “kiss your mother with that mouth Cameron?” “At least my mom isn’t a runaway like yours.” That was all it took for JJ to punch Rafe square in the face. Rafe stumbled into Topper a bit before launching at JJ. The two broke into a brawl and all that could be heard were their grunts and you screaming for them to stop.

 The next thing you know Topper is pulling JJ off Rafe, and your father is pulling Rafe away. Once Rafe is pulled away you run up to JJ to make sure he is okay, but before you can your father grabs your arm. “I warned you about hanging out with this trash.” He spoke with a tight grip around you arm. You looked over at JJ who was crouched by his truck. “is that what you want? Do you want to be known as trash like these other kids? Do you what he does, what his father does? Do you?” He was shaking your arm and screaming at you. “Ouch dad, you’re hurting me.” You spoke over his yelling. JJ looked over at you, he saw you father shaking your body and he could see the fear in your eyes. “Just let me say goodbye to him, please.” You pleaded with your father, and he reluctantly let you.

 Once you got over to JJ you wrapped your arms around him trying to be careful of his already forming bruises. He wiped the tears off your face with the back of his thumb. “I’m sorry JJ, I should have never let any of this happen.” You whispered, and he cut you off with a quick kiss. “I’m fine princess, just go home with your dad, I don’t want you to get in any more trouble than you are. We’ll figure it out, I promise.” “No JJ, I don’t want to leave you.” “I’m fine, please you’re in enough trouble because of me in the first place.” You finally agreed to go after he promised to text you when he got back the Chateau.

 It had been almost a whole week since everything went down. You almost never talked to your father anymore, and you stayed clear of Rafe and his goon squad. You went down to that spot on the beach everyday, but JJ never showed. He hadn’t texted you that night when he got home even though you blew his phone up with texted and calls. It broke you to think that you might have lost the love of your life all together just because of your selfish father.

 Your parents had gone out for the afternoon and told you that the only person coming by should be the grocery boy. You protested not even wanting to answer the door. You wanted them to just have him leave them outside, but your parents didn’t want to food to spoil so you sat in your foyer staring at the wall waiting for him to come.

 When you finally heard the knock on the door you open it to find Pope Heyward, JJ’s best friend on the other side. “Hi Y/N, your parents want these groceries dropped off, where do you want them?” He asked with a smile on his face. You always liked Pope he was kind and had tutor you in Math freshman year. “Um, in the kitchen is fine.” You spoke and lead him to your kitchen. “I also have some mail.” He handed a letter to you that had your name on it with messy writing. You thanked him and gave him the tip your parents left for him. Going to sit back down in the living room you opened the letter. You quickly looked over it is seeing JJ’s signature at the end with a heart.

 Y/N,

 I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in a few days but my phone broke that night so I couldn’t text you. I didn’t go to our spot because I didn’t want you to be upset when you saw me, I know how you always panic when I’m hurt 😉 I promise I’ll make it up to you. Meet me on the outskirts of town at dusk tomorrow night. ~ JJ <3

 I got tired of waiting Wonderin' if you were ever comin' around My faith in you was fading When I met you on the outskirts of town, and I said

Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone I keep waiting for you, but you never come Is this in my head? I don't know what to think He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring And said, "Marry me, Juliet You'll never have to be alone I love you and that's all I really know I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes" Oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh, oh 'Cause we were both young when I first saw you

 You had dressed in a simple white romper with a cardigan considering it was a bit chilly out tonight. You also told your parent that you were staying at friends’ house so they wouldn’t come looking for you. You walked to the outskirts of the island and waited for JJ. You were giving up hope when you saw his truck pull up. He pulled up next to you and got out, and you ran to jump in his arms but suddenly stopped when you saw his face. It was all cut up and he had a nasty black eye. It didn’t take much for the tears to prick your eyes as your thumb smoothed over the freshly formed bruises. “It doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks.” He whispered to you, catching a few stray tears with his thumb.

 “I’m so sorry J. I hate that he let them do this to you.” You said holding his face in your hands looking up at him. You could get lost in his beautiful blue eyes any day. They brought you such calm and love. JJ portrayed all his emotions in his eyes and that’s why you feel in love with them. “I tried talking to your dad, but he wouldn’t listen to me.” He said and you were shocked. No guy had ever done something like that for you. The only time a guy ever talked to your dad was for their own benefit much like Rafe did. “I don’t care what he thinks JJ. I want to be with you, and only you. You’ve made me the happiest person in the world.” You said to him, kissing him. “We’ll figure something out, you promised. I don’t care if we must keep sneaking around together. He’ll see it eventually.” You reasoned with him, the tears you were trying to hold freely falling now.

 JJ hated seeing you like this. He couldn’t tear you away from your family, but he also knew that he didn’t want to try and live another day without you. He didn’t know how it was going to work but he would do what ever it took. “the two of us can jump in this truck right now and go wherever we want to go.” You said to him. “We could go for the summer, it’ll be fine. I have so money saved and we can get jobs on the mainland. Somewhere away from the Outer Banks.” You proposed hoping he would take your bait.

  He thought about it for a minute. He did know some guys that were looking for help on the mainland with construction and maybe it would give your parents some time to adjust to things. “Okay, let’s go get your stuff.” The two of you went back to your house leaving a note explaining everything and bought the first tickets off the island never looking back. It really was a love story.

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[succulentsunrise]

Conversations in the rain

- or perhaps, simple homesickness.

My piece for the YamiChar Week, Day 4: Family! It is both a stand-alone and a continuation to my previous YamiChar Week fics 🥰 If you want to check them out, see the directory below!

For mood music, I recommend this rain track.

Day 3 | All | Day 5

Two figures sat under the cover of an abandoned stall. The forest around them was dark and noisy: the rain poured down with almost aggressive force. It would only be a matter of time before it would calm down - or so they thought. Charlotte Roselei, dressed rather formally and having removed her high heels, hugged her knees closer to her. It was rather cold like this, and the way back to the base was still rather long. Yami Sukehiro sat alongside her. He had carried her this far, but they both had drank enough to be slightly tipsy, and so they were taking a break. The Capital and its bright lights were behind them. Now there was just the sounds of rain hitting the canvas of the stall and dripping to the grass, as well as the occasional sounds of animals. In a way, it was peaceful. Sobering. Charlotte rubbed her hands together a little. She should’ve taken the different coat - the warmer one.

“Well, we’re well stuck in this rain,” Yami commented next to her, and lit a cigarette.

Charlotte nodded, looking around them. She was alone with Yami in a secluded spot. The warmth in her belly was turning cold - the alcohol had stopped warming her. Similarly, her courage was fading...

“It’s at least pretty,” she answered quietly.

“Reminds me of home, a little,” Yami said, surprising her.

Charlotte didn’t often hear Yami talk about his home. His family. In fact, she couldn’t remember hearing anything about it at all. He had always been known as a foreigner - his odd behaviour and speech had given that out early. She didn’t quite want to pry. Yet it was an interesting topic. Perhaps she could learn more about him. She started carefully.

“The rain?”

“No - squatting in the middle of nowhere while waiting for rain to end.”

There was a moment of silence, as Yami blew some of the smoke in the air. Charlotte watched his pondering eyes, fixed into the rainy sky. They were dark and somehow disquieting.

“Rain is good when fishing. That’s what my parents taught me, at least. Go fish when it rains. Preferably a little before. But I wasn’t fishing. I was running in the forest, playing and avoiding my responsibilities, y’know.”

Charlotte nodded her head. This wasn’t anything she knew about, so she was content to listen. Yami took a drag of his cigarette. She thought it was maybe a habit of his - a way to get a space to think about something. Taking that inhale of smoke and exhaling it gave him a pause. His fingers were lazily twiddling with the lid of the box of cigarettes.

“Then rain came, and I was far from home. I found shelter in a small shrine. They are not meant for small boys to hide in, and my mother had told me horrifying stories of what happens to those who disturb the shrines. I was naturally a little displeased by the fact. In the end I decided to just run home and risk getting sick.”

“Did you get sick?” Charlotte inquired softly.

Yami shrugged and gave a lopsided smirk.

“Don’t remember. Maybe? I remember that my mother reprimanded me, but she had prepared me a warm bath and warm food. I was very thankful for that.”

“That does sound nice,” Charlotte smiled. “She sounds like a very caring mother.”

“Yeah, well,” Yami started, but didn’t finish the sentence.

He simply shook his head and coughed a bit. A more distant look had come to his face. Charlotte wanted to reach out to him, but she didn’t know if he was just tired or homesick. Was there anything to be comforted?

“It must’ve been a different kind of life than here,” she said instead.

“Yes. I assume your childhood was not spent running around forests, princess?”

Charlotte shook her head and hugged her knees a little closer to herself. She remember closed walls and endless studies. It was quite the opposite.

“No. My family worried more about the--well, you know.”

“The thorn curse?”

Yami’s voice was relaxed, almost lazy, but his eyes had sharpened and returned to Charlotte. She assented quietly.

“They love me terribly.”

The sentence hid behind it more than that - Charlotte remembered the scared whispers and her own insistence of dealing with it all alone. She had never really shaken that desire to be in complete control. To be perfectly powerful on her own. No one would have to fear the curse again. Whether Yami noticed or not, he didn’t pursue it. Charlotte shivered again slightly.

“It’s getting too cold to sit still,” Yami remarked, crumbling his cigarette to a wet patch of grass nearby. He stomped on it a few times.

Charlotte didn’t have any arguments against leaving. She knew it meant that she’d get to be closer to Yami again, and Yami was mostly warm. The umbrella they had discarded nearby was picked up again, and the two continued on their journey.

The rain followed them all the way to the Blue Rose’s Headquarters, never giving them an inch of clear skies. At the doors, Charlotte turned to Yami, smiling tiredly. He was looking already back into the road, thinking of his way home.

“You could stay here,” Charlotte suggested, her usual inhibitions having been washed away with the rain.

Yami looked at her, then to the road, and then to the door. With a grunt and a shrug, he accepted.