#AND I THOUGHT THE HAIRCUT WAS GOOD UNTIL I GOT HOME

[roguelov]

I think I might shave my head again for all the wrong reasons

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While

Summary: Terry's back home and trying to make amends with an old friend.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,944

Part: 1 of ??

Warnings and Notes: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.

Drunk minds speak sober thoughts. Or at least Terry hoped that was the case as his thumb hovered over a familiar name in his contact list. A dingey hole in the wall became a haven on the tail end of his journey back to some sense of normalcy. He was down a bike, a truck, and a piece of his heart but continued to press on until fatigue forced him to stop for rest. The owner, a small woman with a big voice noticed his rough appearance as he passed by on foot and invited him inside to duck an incoming storm. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when he repeated that he had ground to make up before nightfall.

When she asked if he needed help he politely and foolishly declined all but a glass of brown liquor and access to an outlet. That same whiskey and a sprinkle of Motown-era love songs playing on a rickety jukebox had broken a grown man down enough to reach out to the one person who might still be willing to take him in. Even if only for a night.

Searching for extra courage, Terry took another sip of lukewarm Jack Daniels before tapping his phone screen. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before a short pause signaled the call had connected. 

The silence on the other him was loud, forcing him to speak up first. 

“Hello?”

Fading voices and shuffling in the background were the only indicators of a presence on the other line, making Terry feel embarrassed for starting a call in the first place. 

He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Hey, look… if now’s not a good time I ca -” 

“Terrence? Did you mean to call me?” 

“I, uh…yeah. I did. I’m sorry. I should’ve -” 

“Are you okay? It’s loud wherever you are. You good? You hurt?” 

“I could tell you if you would give me a chance to answer,” he chuckled. His amusement made her kiss her teeth in annoyance. “I’m okay. I’m a little banged up, but I’ve seen worse. I’m somewhere between Charlotte and home. Stopped in this spot for a drink and somewhere to sleep for the night.” 

“And what does that have to do with me?” 

Terry took another swig of whiskey and sighed. “Nothing, really. I was hoping I could see you, though. You know, when I make it back tomorrow.”

“You staying anywhere when you get here?” 

“Not yet, but I’ll find somewhere. I know how to survive.”

“TJ…,” More silence. Thick. Long. Full of tension and years of baggage that they had yet to discuss. The other voice sighed before answering. “Come on by. I’ll have the back room ready for you. You need toiletries?” 

Terry’s face softened into a near smile at the invitation. “Yes ma’am. A meal would be nice, too.” 

“Okay. I’ll have you something if you can get here before dark tomorrow. Please be safe, Terrence. I mean it.” 

Before he could attempt to extend the conversation, the call ended, leaving her contact photo in full view. Terry allowed a slow grin to spread across his face just as a short text with her address came across the screen. 

“Another round, brother?” 

Terry looked up from his phone to find an expectant expression on the bartender’s face. He shook his head and reached for the wallet in his back pocket. “Nah, but thanks, man. Think I’m gonna close my tab, actually. I gotta see about a bus ticket before it’s too late.” 

“If you heading to her,” the man started, pointing toward Terry’s phone. “you need a cut, man. A lineup. Something. You look like what you been through. If you got $20, I can get you right.” A slight frown and knitted eyebrows in response made the bartender shoot his hands up in surrender. “I don’t want no problems, big dog. I just know what it’s like to see your lady after a hard time. Let me help you.” 

A quick look into the black mirror of his cell phone screen forced Terry to reckon with his appearance. He couldn’t remember his last haircut and his mustache was starting to dwarf his upper lip. He sighed and reached into his back pocket. 

“Extra $10 and you can get the face too?” 

“Extra $20 and I’ll get you where you going myself.” 

------

City noise had long been replaced by suburban quiet by the time Terry’s destination came into view. His friend back at the bar was true to his word and arranged transport that turned a 6-hour journey into 2 hours of UGK on the speakers, a little privacy, and AC on the hottest summer day so far.  

After exchanging pleasantries and cash, Terry stepped out of the cramped Honda onto the smooth driveway pavement. Every house, street sign, and front yard looked exactly as he remembered them, bringing mixed emotions forward.

The short journey to her front step felt arduous for his tired legs, but he persisted until he was mere inches from the front door. He lifted his arms and prepared to knock but stopped short when it swung open unexpectedly. 

“Knocking when I can hear those heavy feet from a mile away is courteous but unnecessary.” 

He chuckled and rubbed a hand down the back of his head. “Good to see you too, Treece.” 

Patrice greeted him with a half smile as she studied his appearance from toe to head. A few years and a little extra weight had done wonders. She settled on his eyes and softened her gaze. “You look good, TJ. Come in here and cool off.”

Stepping inside her home felt like walking into a time capsule. He’d spent so many after-school days and summer nights here that it felt like his childhood home not too far up the road. Photos from yesteryear lined the walls on the way to the living room where nothing had changed except new furniture and a bigger television on the TV stand. The heat from the oven mixing with a slight chill from the air conditioning unit kept the room comfortable enough to nap if he could settle for more than a few minutes. 

Terry’s eyes drifted from his surroundings to Patrice as she led the way. Long braids covered the back of a high school t-shirt and jean shorts. Her brown skin had become golden under the North Carolina sun, making her glow a little in the morning light. Grown woman weight had settled onto her once thin frame, transforming her into a more of a mini version of her mother than before. All the changes he’d imagined when he had a free second were ions better in person.

Patrice gestured toward the leather recliner in the corner without speaking, inviting him to take a seat and settle in on her way to the stove.

They existed without words for a few minutes while she took fresh biscuits out of the oven and arranged them next to sausage patties and an omelet on one of her good porcelain plates. Terry trained his attention on his shoes, trying and failing to find a way to break the ice. He wanted to apologize. Confess his wrongs and desires in one grand speech designed to erase nearly ten years of absence. But the words wouldn’t form in his throat and the moment came and went. 

Balancing a dinner tray in one hand and orange juice in the other, Patrice carefully made her way to his spot in the living room. Seeing her kind eyes calmed his nerves and set his chest ablaze.

“No more pork for you, right? This is chicken sausage from my Nana and them in the country.” She asked as she sat the tray on his lap. 

He nodded in appreciation. “Yeah. You remembered?” 

“You ain’t been gone that long, TJ. I still know who you are and what you like. That orange juice don’t have pulp in it either.” 

“Thank you,” he said sheepishly before hanging his head to pray. 

“Any time.” 

A re-run of A Different World became the only sound in the room outside of an occasional content sigh from Terry as he tore through his breakfast. Patrice watched in amusement until her broad smile caught his attention. He slowed in embarrassment and returned the stare long enough to induce loud laughter from both of them. 

“I look crazy, huh?” 

“No,” she assured with a sweet smile. “You just look like you're happy to be back home, is all. Fayetteville missed you.” 

“All of Fayetteville or someone specific?” 

“Don’t start, TJ.” 

“I’m only asking a question.” He answered without making eye contact. “You know you’re the only one who still calls me that?” 

“What? TJ? That’s your name.” 

“Yeah, but…you know. It’s not 2010 anymore.” 

Patrice shrugged and settled deeper into the couch. “Considering that’s about the last time I saw you in the flesh, I guess it stuck for me. But, I can call you Terrence if you like.” 

“Nah, TJ’s good. I like it. From you…specifically.” 

The pair exchanged equally bashful looks, both too shy to say anything that would incriminate themselves. Instead, they watched the television in silence and stole looks until a commercial break took away their distraction. 

Without speaking, Terry began to gather dishes and stand, prompting Patrice to rush over before he could move too far. 

“Treece, I can do it.” 

“I know,” she answered in a sing-song voice while sliding the tray from his grasp. “But I haven’t done this for you in a while. Let me love on you a little bit.”

His eyes tracked her every move until she was behind him at the kitchen sink. Boyish nervousness made him twiddle his thumbs until words came rushing out like water from a burst pipe as he sat back down.

“So, how you doing? How you been?” 

“I’ve been okay. Mostly work and no play, you know. Thankful to be out of that classroom for a few weeks and get some peace.” 

“Yeah? Kids driving you crazy?” 

“Baby, the kids, their parents, and my parents are driving me to drink,” she laughed. “I can’t catch a break.” 

“What about your man? He driving you crazy?” 

Patrice scoffed and shook her head. Her mama and his mama talked too much. Terry chewed his bottom lip, hoping he didn’t offend. 

“We…aren’t together anymore. Hard to build a family together when he’s off building one across town.” 

Terry craned his neck around the armchair to make sympathetic eye contact. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that part. I wouldn’t have said anything.” 

“It’s alright. I gave it to God a long time ago. Maybe I’m not meant to be anybody’s wife yet.”

“Maybe you weren’t meant to be his wife.” 

“Well, it’s not like any suitors are knocking down my door for my hand in marriage.” 

“Probably because you keep swinging it open before anybody gets a chance.” 

Patrice rolled her eyes and flashed her middle finger in Terry’s direction. “Ha-ha. I see you didn’t lose your jokes at Lejeune. Only your ability to keep in touch.” 

Her retort left a shallow cut in Terry’s ego, making him turn his attention back to the television. He knew he’d broken a decades-old promise and that atoning for his sins would take time. But he also knew that, at any moment, Patrice could send him back into the world with nothing more than a full belly and a swift kick in the ass. He had to tread lightly. 

Taking the lull in conversation as his opportunity to lick his wounds in private, Terry stood and gathered his belongings in both hands. Patrice watched him from her spot with an apologetic expression. 

“You don’t have to leave. Got a couple errands to run so it’ll be quiet in here. Take the whole couch if you want.” 

“That’s alright, but thank you. Figure I can make myself useful and cut the yard. Maybe unpack some of this stuff if that’s alright with you. You got a mower?” 

“Yeah, it’s back there,” she answered, gesturing toward the backyard with her head. “Will you be here when I get back?” 

Sensing the hidden motivation behind her question, Terry dropped his bag to the ground and made his way into the kitchen. Cautiously, he leaned down to press a short kiss to Patrice’s forehead before using his index finger to tilt her head upward and meet his eyeline. “Yes. I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.” 

Her eyes fluttered closed for a half second while she nodded her understanding. A wave of relief made the hair on her arms stand at attention but she quickly bit back any urge to engage further. 

“You looked tired when you got in,” Patrice started, turning her back to Terry to conceal her flustered face. “I cleared Junior’s old bed back there. It’s a little small but sturdy. The sheets are fresh. Let me know if you need more blankets. I like it cold at night.” 

“I’ll survive, girl. I’ve slept in worse places than a full-sized bed. Thank you.” 

A split second of hesitation kept their eyes glued to one another until Terry ended the stalemate by backing out of the room and disappearing down the hallway. 

Patrice took his absence as an opportunity to compose herself. Busy hands and racing thoughts fueled a cleaning marathon until tasks that had long fallen to the bottom of her to-do list were crossed off. 

For hours they co-existed without many words exchanged. Occasionally, Patrice would steal glances at Terry while he meticulously tended to the lawn and bushes. When he could, Terry made a point to brush up against her when he walked past and agree with each of her many suggestions. Being in her space was enough for him and he dared not upset the natural harmony. 

By the time dinner rolled around, they had found a groove. A quiet dinner led to an even quieter cleanup shift and quick good nights exchanged after watching Jeopardy together. 

Terry left Patrice to her own devices while he fought to acclimate to such cushy surroundings. Try as he might, he couldn’t get used to the soft mattress below him or the near-frigid temperature in the house. Tossing and turning left him unsatisfied. The walls felt like they were converging. Flashbacks were turning into night sweats. He needed to escape.

Slowly, he slid out of bed and into a pair of slippers Patrice had gifted him earlier in the day. Measured steps help him sneak past her bed bedroom, out of the back door, and down into the backyard without causing a disturbance. 

The early June air was balmy, clinging to the skin beneath his t-shirt. In the distance loud bass from someone’s car speaker vibrated until it was out of earshot. Dogs barked and howled to salute the moon worked in tandem with the faint smell of charcoal cooling from a night of backyard barbecues to remind him that he was far from the trouble of Shelby Springs. 

It’d been a while since he could enjoy the night without being on high alert. The last week was a special kind of hell that he feared he could never shake. The urge to flee was beginning to creep in like the tide, threatening to wash away what little progress he’d made.

After a few deep breaths and mumbled prayer, Terry retreated to a porch swing to rest his weary legs. His shoulders relaxed as soon as his backside met the aged oak and, almost instantly, he felt safe enough to close his eyes. One deep breath turned into another until he was drifting into his first peaceful sleep in weeks. 

Minutes passed like seconds. Thoughts slowed to a halt. His heartbeat regulated. Near bliss was upon him.

Inside, a single lamp flipped on to illuminate Patrice’s path as she searched the house for her guest. His room and bathroom had turned up empty results with almost no sign that he’d been there throughout the day. He wasn’t on the couch or in the kitchen raiding the fridge like she half expected. Worry had all but made her pass out until she heard the slight creak of her swing on the porch, making his head appear and disappear from the window above the sink.

She couldn’t fully open the door before Terry opened one eye and looked in her direction. She froze and he smiled.

“Feet not as heavy as you thought, huh?” 

“Yeah, yeah. If I’d known you trade in a bed for this old thing I wouldn’t have wasted my time on laundry.” 

“Hey, I built this old thing, remember?”

Patrice chuckled at the memory and pointed at the metal chain keeping the swing in place. “Damn near lost a finger behind it, too.”

“Would’ve been worth it knowing you were happy.” Patrice nervously shifted her weight from left to right under Terry’s intense gaze while he took his turn to look her over. Finally noticing her awkwardly standing between the screendoor, he motioned to the spot beside him. “Sit with me for a second.”

Patrice visibly wrestled with her decision but ultimately joined him. They maintained a careful distance, being sure to keep their individual limbs from connecting for fear that the mere sensation would set them ablaze. They played a childish game of cat and mouse until Patrice spoke.

“I was rude earlier,” Patrice confessed while fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. Terry closed his heavy eyes to cure the burning sensation growing by the minute but acknowledged her statement with a confused grunt. She continued. “I never asked how you were doing. The whole thing about my ex sort of brought up old feelings.” 

He frowned, hurt by her revelation. “You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you, right?” 

“You never are. Same ol’ honorable TJ. Terry, I mean.” 

“TJ for you.” 

Again he popped one eye open and paired it with a grin that disamered Patrice and made her giggle like her high school self. The sound had him resolve that he’d spend his whole life making stupid faces if it meant she’d get some joy from them. 

“You ready to tell me everything I missed or are you content with popping up on my porch? And how long do you plan to be here eating all my food, anyway?” 

“I don’t think you wanna hear that,” he answered in an attempt to dodge the loaded question. Patrice persisted. 

“No, I do. I see the tattoos and the fresh haircut. TJ turned into a man while he was gone. At least let me get to know this new person.” 

“I grew up,” he sighed after some time. “Gained some. Lost a lot. Still trying to pick up the pieces.”

“What’d you lose?” 

“Lately? Money. Family. Shit, my mind.” 

“Why?”

“Mike died.” An abrupt interruption of an already complicated conversation brought forth a long pause. He waited for an interjection but found none, prompting him to offer more details. “He was killed. In jail. I tried to get him out and bring him home but I was too late.” Terry answered without making eye contact. Shame wouldn’t allow him to meet her potential judgment.

Patrice mentally cycled through names and faces until she realized the gravity of Terry’s statement. She reached out to breach their unspoken barrier and grabbed his hand which he accepted with no pushback.

“You wanna talk about it?” 

“Not really,” he answered before squeezing her hand and finally returning her eye contact. “I handled everything. It’s over for now. I’m here with you. We can focus on that.” 

“Even though you keep skipping how long you’ll stay.”

Patrice’s warmth was starting to take a backseat to her cold nature. Old wounds had started to re-open and rebuild a wall they both thought they’d successfully hurdled. Despite her attempt to pull her hand out of his grasp, Terry stayed put. He eyed her for a moment, picking up on a thin veil of tears threatening to form at her water line. 

She watched his normally steely blue-gray eyes soften into something that mirrored the softness he carried when they were kids. She couldn’t find the gumption to look away as he brought her knuckles up to his lips for a set of short kisses before looking back up at her. Pleading. Begging for any indication that she had softened her heart toward him. 

“Treecey, I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it. You meant more to me than the way I left and I pray every day for a chance to make it right. We crossed a line that night and I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t handle that like a man should have. I’m sorry until I’m blue in the face.” 

Sincerity was thick in his voice despite his low, even tone. 

Patrice listened without a word. A single tear cascaded down her face despite her valiant attempts to keep her emotions at bay. She swore she’d never cry about Terrence Richmond again. But old habits die hard. 

Terry used his free hand to swipe away that tear and the next one sitting at her lower lash line with the pad of his thumb.

“Say something,” he pleaded. “Anything. Tell me you hate me.” 

“You know I don’t hate you,” she whispered, too choked up to continue without a deep breath. “I…I just feel like you took a piece of me with you, you know? And you never wrote back. You never called. You shut me out like we were never friends. We could’ve gone back to how things were.” 

“I fucked that up.” 

“I’m aware. But that doesn’t mean that I trust you won’t do it again. No matter how much I don’t hate you, I’m not eighteen anymore. My patience is thin. I can’t allow you to turn my world upside down again.” 

“Hand to God I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“Yeah. I hope so.” Though she whispered, Patrice’s words sliced through Terry like a hot knife through butter. 

He hung his head in defeat as she pulled her hand from his grasp and made quick work of standing from the bench. Her footsteps retreated past him and to the back door until she paused. 

He looked over his shoulder to find her eyes closed and chin pointed to the sky in contemplative silence. This was it. The final blow. 

She took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. “Stay as long as you want. Junior’s living with his girlfriend now, so nobody’s coming to make you leave. Tomorrow, we can go get you some new clothes. I’m tired of looking at those raggedy t-shirts already.” 

Terry took her jab in stride and gave her a half smile as a sign of compliance. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.” 

“Mhm. Lock the door behind you when you come in.” 

“Good night, Treecey.” His farewell came in an annoyingly sweet voice as a last-ditch effort to drag some loving words from her. Patrice stopped and gave him one more once over and a dismissive eye roll.

He waited for the ghost of a smile that disappeared before he could blink. She shook her head and took a step inside the house.

“Shut up, Terry. Go to bed.” 

Terry hid his amusement until she was out of sight, leaving him alone to grin at how even her rebukes felt like love letters. 

“Shut up,” he repeated to himself as he closed his eyes to doze again. “Hm. I’ll take it.” 

TAGS: @planetblaque

Happy to tag whoever is interested.

[kyo-moon]

WINDBREAKER BOYS HEADCANONS IF THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU !

ft. sakura haruka, suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki, kaji ren

a/n: this is my first time writing headcanons and about wind breaker at all, so i hope you enjoy it as much as i did ! ☆ミ

✧ sakura haruka

oh boy. he either doesn't leave your side or is a mile away from you

would definitely protect you at any cost at any time. if you happen to be around during his patrols, he'd glance at you every three seconds to make sure you're okay

he takes his sweet time getting closer to you

suo and nirei would help him out about how he should approach you

once, he tried to ask you out on a date, but when you looked at him with those beautiful eyes, he stopped functioning and froze in the spot

if you two happen to walk together, he's more likely to walk one step behind to look out for the bad guys

suo, nirei, and you planned how to set you and sakura up several times. it failed every single time

sakura tried his best, yet he asked you to hang out with him... alone... but hey! it's not a date at all !!

kiryu even helped you pick up the outfits for your 'dates' (sakura called them normal hangouts)

he would try to compliment your outfit but ended up babbling nonsense because he got nervous

indeed, they were not normal hangouts

he didn't know the sidewalk rule at first until suo gently scolded him for that. after that, he did the sidewalk rule every single date

'so, when are you gonna ask me out of should i do it?' he stopped functioning once again

it was you, the one that asked him to be your boyfriend because he seemed too nervous to do it. not that you mind, but sometimes it was overwhelming

sakura said yes so quickly that it surprised you

✧ suo hayato

he's a gentleman

he always makes sure you're comfortable when you're with him or around his friends

he'd definitely ask you out after getting to know you better after a few hangouts with everyone

during the dates, he'd walk close to you but not enough to make you uncomfortable

he would give you small compliments yet so meaningful. 'you look beautiful today', 'that color really suits you', 'do you want to go somewhere in particular?'

sidewalk rule. obviously

most likely to accompany you back home from the first date

also, he always has a plan for your dates. in case you came with one idea, he would let you take the lead and leave it for the next one

would listen to everything you talk during the dates with a smile, especially if it's something that you're really into

after gaining your trust, he'd start grabbing your hand during the dates as you walk together

he asked to be his girlfriend after one date that he planned very carefully several days before, he bought you a small pair of earrings similar to his, if you happen to not wear earrings, then another piece of jewelry you like better

he presented you to his friends, even though you already knew them, but this time as his girlfriend as he just wanted to show you off

sakura freaked out when he saw you two entering the classroom holding hands

in public or in private, he's not that demonstrative, but he would do small things like putting his hand on your back to guide you, opening doors for you, placing a kiss on your forehead after a fight

✧ kiryu mitsuki

he's also a gentleman

he started flirting with you from the moment he laid his eyes on you

he went from small compliments like 'love your earrings, they're perfect for you', 'your haircut is as lovely as you, dear' to 'gimme that smile i love', 'would you let me take you on a date? i can't hold back anymore'

during the dates, would give your compliments about your outfits, hairstyles, earrings, everything

'that dress really suits you, dear', 'those earrings compliment your eyes', 'that hairstyle was made for you, i'm certain of it honey'

sidewalk rule. yes.

not only does he make you feel good around him but also with yourself

he would gift your hair clips he thought you'd like

after some dates, he asked you if, on the next one, you could wear matching outfits

if you haven't found one yet, he definitely helped you find your style. however, shopping dates are assured with him

he probably presented you to his friends before even dating as 'his future girlfriend'

he asked you to be his girlfriend during a night date with him out in town, where he gifted you matching accessories for your phones

✧ kaji ren

he probably questioned hiragi about what he should do after finding out he had a crush on you

following hiragi's advice, he tried to get to know you better before asking you out on a date

he didn't know how to act at first but eventually got comfortable around you and started to talk more

after some time, he found out you bought him peace, so he felt even more relaxed and drown to you

when he asked you on a date, he took his headphones off, showing you how serious he was about it

your dates were quiet, but so filled with good memories

higari had taught him about the sidewalk rule before your first date

he told you he preferred to go to quiet places rather than crowd ones, to which you openly accepted

after some dates, he offered you one of his lollipops

one time, a guy was staring too much in your direction, so he took off his headphones and put them around your neck to show the guy you were already taken

he wasn't scared to take off his headphones when you were around since he knew you would calm him down better than his music did

he will fight any guy that dared to say something disrespect about you. kaji won't tolerate that under any circumstances, trust me

higari was the first to meet you, then kusumi and enomoto

except for higari, they were surprised to see kaji with a girl since that boy said nothing to them. nothing at all

he asked you to be his girlfriend with a playlist during a chill hang out at his place

written by kyo-moon on tumblr. reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated ! ☆ミ

[theostrophywife]

CHAPTER ONE

home | chapters | playlist

🤍 pairing: theodore nott x reader.

🤍 song inspiration: sunroof by nicky youre.

🤍 author’s note: wake up babe summer theo just dropped.

Step 1 of Pansy Parkinson’s Perfect Plan of Plotting

Meet Cute — : A cute, charming, or amusing first encounter between romantic partners.

Every good story starts with a meet cute. Unfortunately for Theo and Y/N, their first encounter happened when they were still both in their mother’s wombs, but I won’t let that deter me. What better way to start off the summer holiday than getting rescued from a remote airport by your knight-in-shining armor with a fresh haircut and a recently acquired driver’s license? Side note: research the credibility of the Ufficio Motorizzazione Civile because whoever granted Theodore Nott a valid license is clearly bloody mental. Regardless, those two will be riding off into the Italian sunset in a brand new baby blue convertible and it’s all thanks to me. 

First Year, Hogwarts Express

On the other side of the frosted glass window, the English countryside passed by in a dizzying blur as the rain painted the landscape in a dreary haze. The train left a trail of smoke and steam behind as it journeyed along, bringing you closer and closer to Hogwarts. You shifted in your seat, nearly sliding off the red leather cushion as you trained your eyes on the horizon. 

By evening, you would arrive in the Scottish Highlands to begin your education at Hogwarts. When you got on the platform at King’s Cross, you thought that the worst of your anxiety would subside, but it only grew within you like a cresting wave. Being away from home for the first time in eleven years was intimidating enough, but now you had the sorting ceremony to fret over. 

Your parents were convinced that you would be sorted into Slytherin as they had when they both attended Hogwarts. Up until now, you were fairly confident in this as well, but the minute you boarded the train, doubt started to rear its ugly head. 

You had to be sorted into Slytherin. Not only because you’ve had the green and silver posters hanging in your room since birth, but also because you couldn’t imagine being in any other house. 

Just then, the cabin door slid open and startled you out of your thoughts. Theo plopped down next to you and stretched his legs on your lap. 

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “There’s two benches in this cabin, Teddy.”

Your best friend grinned, his messy brown hair falling over those moody watercolor eyes. “Yeah, but they’re not as comfy as you.” 

His cheeks were rosy from running around the train, but yours were even more flushed in comparison. Theo always had that effect on you. “I found the others, by the way. They’re in Malfoy’s cabin eating their way through a mountain of sweets. Did you want to join them?” 

You shook your head, looking out the window. “Maybe later.” 

Theo swung his legs over the bench and faced you. “You’re nervous.” 

It wasn’t a question. Theo knew you well enough to read your silence. 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“Not to anyone but me,” he said reassuringly. “You haven’t stopped twisting your ring since we left London.”

You looked down at your right hand and surely enough, you caught yourself twisting the emerald ring on your middle finger. It was a nervous habit that you weren't even aware of until Theo pointed it out a few years ago. 

That was the thing about your friendship. You spent so much time together that sometimes it felt like Theo was an extension of you. His mother used to say that the two of you were destined to be best friends, given the fact that she and your mum were closer to sisters than friends after forming a lifelong friendship during their time at school. 

It was one of the main reasons why the sorting ceremony worried you so much. For your entire life, you had gotten used to doing everything with Theo. The two of you had been inseparable since birth. A part of you had always wondered if you and Teddy would be friends if it weren’t for your mothers. 

“What if I don’t get sorted into Slytherin?” you asked in a small voice. 

Theo leaned back and tugged at the end of your scarf. “Of course you’ll get sorted into Slytherin.” He smiled, curling his finger around the cashmere material. “Did you know that when we were born, our mums put us in matching green and silver booties? I didn’t endure all that humiliation just for you to back out now.” 

“I’m serious, Teddy.” You shoved your hands into your pockets and stared at your shoes. “What if we get sorted into different houses? What if you meet your housemates and decide that you’d rather be friends with them than me?

Theo’s expression softened. “Hey,” he said, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You’re my best friend, Y/N. A stupid sorting hat won’t change that. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He paused, grinning. “Unless you end up in Gryffindor.” 

You smacked his arm, trying and failing to fight the smile tugging at your lips. “That’s not funny, Teddy!”

He chuckled. “I’m just winding you up, fragolina.” 

For an eleven year old, you suppose that calling a freckled redhead little strawberry was peak comedy. At least Theo seemed to think so. 

“Speaking of which, are you sure you’re not a long lost Weasley? Then you’d really need to worry about Godric snatching you up.”

“You are an absolute menace, Theodore Nott.” 

Theo grinned. “But would an absolute menace remember to buy you candy?” 

He reached into his pocket and held his palm out to you. In his hand sat a familiar purple and gold box that held the best treat in the wizarding world. 

“A chocolate frog,” you said with delight. “My favorite.”

“Got it from the trolley. I figured you could use a little cheering up. Though I might’ve accidentally sat on it.” 

You giggled, holding up the slightly dented box. “Thanks for the chocolate blob, Teddy.”

Theo grinned. “Any time, Y/N.

Day One, Vallara Floo Station

The phone rang and rang and rang.

You looked around helplessly at the floo station, praying to whatever gods that were listening that Pansy would pick up. Much to your dismay, you were sent straight to voicemail. Again.

“Pansy Parkinson, you better be laid out on a yacht with hot Italian witches dangling grapes into your mouth because that’s the only acceptable reason for not picking up your bloody phone. I swear to Salazar, I think I just told a man that I’d love to pet his chicken. Theo’s never going to let me hear the end of this—”

At that moment, you became convinced that the heat of the Italian countryside had melted your brain because you could’ve sworn that you recognized the familiar laughter echoing from behind you. 

“I’m offended, bella. All those years of friendship and yet you’ve never offered to pet my chicken.” 

You nearly dropped your phone when you whirled around and came face to face with your best friend. The Italian sunshine had been good to Theo. He looked tanner than when you last saw him, bringing out the moles and freckles that painted his olive skin like constellations. Those piercing blue eyes crinkled when he smiled and the sight of it nearly swept you off your feet. 

As if reading your mind, Theo enveloped you into a bone-crushing hug. The scent of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke enveloped you like a comforting hug. The hem of your gingham sundress billowed as Theo twirled you in the air. You laughed in delight, not caring one bit that the two of you were making a scene in the middle of the floo station. You hadn’t seen your best friend in two months, which was nearly an eternity for you and Theo. 

After graduation, Theo had headed down to the Italian countryside to spend the summer with his nonna. Usually, you would’ve joined him, but you were busy visiting family in New York. As fun as the States were, you missed home and you missed Theo — the two of which were synonymous in your mind.

“I missed you, fragolina,” Theo murmured into your hair. You grinned, squeezing him to convey your agreement. 

“Missed you too, Teddy,” you said softly. Theo set you down, giving you the chance to fully examine him. He was wearing a white linen button down and cotton shorts, his usual attire to combat the summer heat. Handsome, but in an effortless sort of way. 

You cocked your head, running your fingers over his chesnut waves, which were now tinged with gold, courtesy of his constant exposure to the sun. “You cut your hair.”

Theo nodded, running a hand through his cropped cut with a self-conscious expression. “I like it,” you said decidedly. “It looks good on you.” 

Satisfaction coursed through you as Theo blushed, his cheeks tinged with pink. It reminded you of the very first time he ever wore his natural waves around you. It was sometime during second year when you both got drenched from the rain at the Black Lake. You ran your hands through his hair, smiling as you told him that you quite preferred his hair that way. Since then, Theo stopped gelling his hair. 

“Big changes this summer,” Theo declared with a wink. Without hesitation, he gathered your suitcases and hauled them along like they weighed nothing. To him, they probably didn’t. You could’ve used his strength when you were struggling to lug your bags through customs. “Speaking of, I finally got my license.” 

Your jaw dropped. Ever since your dad took the two of you out on a joyride in his beloved vintage Mercedes — Mercy, for short — Theo had become obsessed with learning how to drive. You had no interest in it, but your best friend was absolutely adamant. When he put his mind to something, Theo was quite unstoppable. He even managed to convince your dad to give him lessons. Not on his precious Mercy of course, but on the family car. 

“I have no idea why you would want to ride around on a steel trap when there’s a perfectly good tube system at home,” you chided, swatting at your best friend’s arm as he rolled his eyes at your repeated lecture. “But I am proud of you, regardless.” 

“Good, cause I’m about to take you on the joy ride of your life.” 

You halted as Theo bounced past the entrance, walking right up to a very expensive looking vintage sports car. The baby blue top down sparkled in the sunlight and its chrome interior shined so spotlessly that you could see your reflection staring back at you. Theo gingerly arranged your suitcases in the backseat, careful not to disturb the delicate white leather seats. 

“You did not,” you gaped in disbelief. 

Theo only grinned. “I did, too.” 

He rounded the hood and reached over to pull the door open. You turned back, hesitation written all over your face as you surveyed the car. Despite its vintage style, you knew that it would probably be fast. Too fast for your liking. 

“No offense, but are you sure they didn’t make a mistake during your driving test? Maybe they meant to give the license to someone else.” 

You were proud of Theo. Truly, you were. But you had been witness to one too many driving lessons where he accidentally ran over the curb or nearly flipped the car from how fast he turned. Needless to say, it didn’t exactly inspire confidence. 

Your best friend huffed in indignation. “I’ll have you know, I’m an excellent driver. Even my examiner said so.” 

“She should probably get her vision checked, then,” you murmured under your breath.

“I heard that,” Theo stated with narrowed eyes. He ushered you along, herding you into the front seat. “Your lack of confidence in me is quite frankly appalling, fragolina.” 

“It’s not that I’m not confident in you,” you explained as you buckled in. “I’m just not confident that you won’t abuse the poor, defenseless curbs of your homeland.” 

“I promise you, I’ve gotten much better since my last lesson. Now sit back, relax, and feel the beautiful breeze of Italia against your skin.” 

You did no such thing. You spent the first few minutes white-knuckling the seat cushions. Theo, on the other hand, whistled a happy little tune as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. To his credit, his driving seemed to have improved since the last time you witnessed him get behind the wheel. Enough for you to gradually release the chokehold you had on your seat. 

“So, where’s our gracious host? Too busy sipping on limoncellos with pretty stregas to pick up her best friend from the station?” 

Theo’s mouth quirked. “Close. She’s trying to keep Malfoy and Riddle from tearing up the villa. They had a little disagreement about the room assignments. Draco wanted the room facing the east side of the house, for an optimal view of the sunrise.” You snorted at Theo’s overexaggerated snooty impression of your blonde friend. “Of course as soon as he expressed this, Mattheo suddenly wanted it for the same reasons. Never mind that the twat rarely wakes up before noon.” 

“Another lover’s quarrel,” you said rather sarcastically. “What’s new? Hopefully they kiss and make up before we get back.” 

“They’re going to have to,” Theo stated as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m not spending my summer holiday listening to those two twats fighting. I did enough of that at school.”

“How strange is it that we’ve graduated? I swear, it feels just like yesterday when we first got onto the Hogwarts Express. Now you’re driving me around the Italian coast and you haven’t hit a single curb. I wonder what other miraculous things the future has in store.”

Theo snorted. “It’s me and you against the world, bella.”

“The way it’s always been and the way it’ll always be.” 

The road curved around a hill, providing you with a breathtaking view of the sunny skies and clear blue water glittering below. Despite your teasing, Theo was doing a great job of maneuvering through the narrow path. He was driving slow and steady, giving you enough confidence to lean against the door and peer at the wonders of Vallara. 

Villas with colorful pastel roofs painted the hillside with pops of pinks, greens, and blues, broken up by patches of yellow from the lemon trees swaying in the breeze. The air smelled like sea salt and citrus, mixed in with other delicious smells wafting from the countless restaurants lining the market square. One of them in particular, La Dolce Vita, instantly caught your eye. 

“Should we say hi to nonna?” 

“She’s busy prepping for dinner back at the house. As soon as nonna heard that you were coming, she insisted on making everything herself.” 

“She didn’t have to do that,” you said, smiling fondly in the direction of the restaurant. You adored Theo’s grandmother. She was a strong, loud, and vibrant woman that you’ve admired since you were a little girl. Not to mention, her cooking was to die for. “Although I would kill for her cannolis.” 

“There’s a fresh batch waiting for you in the fridge.” 

Your mouth watered at the thought. “I’m surprised she’s letting us use the villa. I thought we were banned after Mattheo set off those fireworks in fourth year. I’ve never seen nonna that mad.” 

Theo chuckled at the reminder. Thanks to the fire fiasco, the villa had become off limits. Every visit after was to the townhouse in Rome, where she could keep a closer eye on all of you. As beautiful as the city was, you missed the countryside. Life was more peaceful out here — slow and sweet. You were determined to savor every moment before the reality of adult life hit you full force. 

“Pansy can be quite persuasive,” Theo replied. “Plus, she promised to wring Mattheo’s neck herself if he tries to stir up any trouble.” 

“It’s not a matter of if,” you corrected as Theo pulled up to the private road that led to his family’s villa. “It’s a matter of when.” 

Your best friend hummed in approval as the car slowed to a stop. Theo parked his convertible on the driveway and killed the engine as you admired his ancestral home. The quaint country house sat proudly at the top of the hillside, its regal structure looming over the village below. The terracotta roof sloped over the towers jutting out on each side of the massive structure, the seafoam green walls wrapping around the side porch, the rounded arched windows, and the romantic balcony overlooking the blooming garden at the back of the villa. It was just as charming as you remembered. 

“Home sweet home,” you murmured in awe. 

The wonder of this place never grew old. Theo’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, hauling your luggage over his shoulder and leading you inside. The sunbaked walls greeted you like an old friend, the sea breeze filling the entire place with the scent of salt and citrus from the large open windows. The furniture was mismatched, but in an endearing way that somehow felt like it all belonged together.

You walked between the arched columns leading into the living room, which were bracketed with wooden banisters that overlooked the entire first floor. The further you ventured, the louder the noises echoed. 

The sunny kitchen seemed to be the center of activity. You peered inside, smiling instantly when you saw the familiar figure hunched over the stove. Nonna whistled as she stirred the pot, the incredible smell of her cooking hitting you with a wave of nostalgia. Her happy tune was interrupted by the bouncing boy beside her and she tutted at Mattheo as he peered over her shoulder. 

“Dio mio, did I not tell you to wait in the living room?” Nonna asked with an exasperated sigh. “You’re making me dizzy with all your bouncing.” 

Mattheo smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, nonna. Everything just smells so good. Are you sure you don't need me to taste test?” 

“You’ll eat when the food is ready,” she huffed in response. Mattheo pouted in disappointment, his gaze darting to the fridge hungrily. “Don’t even think about touching my cannolis. I made those for Y/N especially.”

“If you’re nice, I might share.” 

Nonna grinned as you walked into the kitchen with Theo trailing behind you. She pulled you into a hug, kissing both of your cheeks as you laughed. “Thank God you’re here. This one has been driving me up the wall all afternoon.” Mattheo let out an indignant huff, but nonna ignored him. “Sit, piccolina. I’m sure you’ve had quite a journey. Theo here tells me you visited the States?” 

The way nonna crinkled her nose made you giggle. Like every other sensible European, she wasn’t the biggest fan of anything American. “Yes, I stayed with my cousin in New York for a few weeks. It was a fun time, but I am glad to be back home. I’m afraid their cooking isn’t up to par with yours, nonna.” 

“This is why you’re my favorite,” she chides, pinching your cheeks. “You’re just in luck then. Dinner will be served soon. If you can stomach it after my grandson’s driving.” 

Theo heaved in disapproval, which only made you grin. “It was actually quite a nice drive. The view was stunning and Teddy here managed to get me here in one piece.” 

“I’m glad. Theodore has been talking my ear off about it the whole summer. Nonna, I can’t wait until Y/N gets here. I miss her. Do you think she misses me? I hope she likes my car. Don’t you think she’d look quite pretty in her sundress, sitting in the passenger seat?” 

Mattheo snickered as Theo cleared his throat. “Alright, that’s enough. We’ll let you get back to your cooking so I can show Y/N to her room, nonna.”

Without another word, Theo wrestled you out of his grandmother’s clutches. Nonna winked at you behind his back, making you giggle. She wasn’t subtle at all about the fact that she wanted you and Theo to be together. Nonna had been hinting at it since you were thirteen. 

You trailed after Theo, noting the blush on his cheeks as he climbed the stairs. “Did I live up to it, then?” 

Theo scrunched his brows, pausing at the top step to allow you to catch up. His long legs always gave him a rather unfair advantage. “Live up to what?” 

“Did I look pretty sitting in your passenger seat in my sundress?” 

“Don’t know,” Theo quipped. “You were too busy gripping the seats for dear life to allow me to make a clear judgment.” You rolled your eyes fondly, which made him chuckle. “I’m kidding. Of course you looked pretty. You always look pretty, Y/N.” 

Now it was your turn to blush. You bit back a smile as Theo ventured down the hallway. 

“I’m still here you know,” you startled at Mattheo’s presence. You nearly forgot that he was following closely behind. “I swear to Merlin, the world could be falling to shit and you two would still be too busy making googly eyes at each other to notice.” 

You rolled your eyes at your curly headed friend. “I’m guessing Dray got the room you wanted based on your grumpy behavior.” Mattheo swatted at your hand when you tried to pinch his cheek. “Don’t worry, Matty. There’s always room in the wine cellar.”

He stuck his tongue out in response, followed by a smirk that you knew meant nothing but trouble. “Oh, I snagged the Rose room.” 

“That’s my favorite room and you know it!” 

“Don’t worry, Y/N. There’s always room in the wine cellar.” You narrowed your eyes before lunging at him. Mattheo laughed maniacally, dodging your grip as he weaved through the second floor. “Guess you and Notty boy are just going to have to double up.” 

The little traitor ran straight into your room — his room now apparently — and slammed the door shut. “What does that mean?” you asked Theo. 

He shrugged. “Probably nothing good, knowing the twat.” 

His suspicions proved to be true when you ran into Draco and Pansy. They both greeted you with hugs, though Draco seemed a little put off. 

“Good, you’re finally here!” Pansy exclaimed, brushing her bangs off of her forehead.

“With no help from you, by the way. You said you were meeting me at the floo station.” 

“I had to take care of a situation. Theo here jumped at the chance to show off his little baby blue convertible and offered to pick you up instead.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s been buzzing since yesterday. I swear, he doesn’t even try to hide his favoritism.” 

“Well, Y/N doesn’t strong arm her way into staying at my family’s villa. Not to mention conspiring with my nonna for god knows what else,” Theo added bitterly. 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “So dramatic, Theodore.” She pushed the door open to the main suite, revealing the enormous room. 

The interior was bright and airy. A fresh coat of pastel pink covered the walls, but the ceiling remained a creamy shade of white with the exposed wooden beams giving the room a cozy and rustic feel. A four-poster bed faced the balcony doors, which provided a view of the gardens below. The salty summer breeze rustled the linen curtains, carrying the pleasing scent of honeysuckle and lavender. 

Theo set down your luggage by the tufted velvet sofa. You ventured out through the balcony doors, leaning over the parapet to peer at the pops of pinks, blues, and purples dotting the property. By the poolside, Enzo and Blaise reclined on cushioned chaise lounges, sipping on spritzers and soaking in the sunset. You waved at your friends down below and they returned the gesture, raising their glasses with blissful smiles. 

When you turned back around, you found Pansy fiddling with a flower arrangement. She placed it on the table closest to the balcony, smiling to herself when she finally got the bouquet to look the way she wanted. The stunning view, the luxurious vintage furniture, and the intricate fireplace all felt very romantic. After all, nonna did deem this the honeymoon suite, which made you all the more suspicious of why Pansy was suddenly bunking you up with Theo. 

Before you could question the witch, she turned on her heel and crossed the suite. “I’ll give you two a moment to catch up, but don’t take too long. Dinner will be served in an hour.” Pansy lingered by the door, a dangerous glint sparkling in her eyes as she winked at the two of you. “Enjoy the honeymoon suite.” 

If that wasn’t confirmation that Pansy Parkinson was up to something, then you didn’t know what was. You glared at the dark haired witch, but she seemed oblivious as she skipped off. Probably on her way to meddle in someone else’s business. 

“Well, this was unexpected.” 

“Tell me about it. Now I have to keep my things tidy or else I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

“A messy room reflects a messy—”

“Mind,” Theo finished for you as his lips curved into a smile. “I’m well aware, bella. You’ve been saying it since we were ten.” 

“Yet it hasn’t quite sunk in.” 

“You’re just grumpy from international travel. I know what’ll make you feel better though,” Theo announced with a sunny smile as he trotted over to the bathroom. You stared longingly at the amenities, which housed a rain shower head, a tiled bench, and a heart shaped tub. “Hop on in.” 

“Theodore Nott, is this your way of telling me I stink?” 

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” your best friend said with a cheeky little smile. He plugged his nose and waved his hand in front of his face. You smacked him on the arm, which only made him grin even wider. “Will it help if I hopped in with you?” 

A fierce blush crept up to the tips of your ears. “Pervert.” 

“What? We used to take baths together all the time!” 

“Yeah, when we were three.” 

Theo shrugged. “Semantics. I promise not to steal your rubber ducky this time.” 

You groaned in frustration, smacking him once more. “Not a chance in hell.” 

“Are you sure? I’m a very efficient shower buddy. Just ask Mattheo.” 

All the filthy thoughts filtering through your mind only served to make you flush even more. At this rate, your face probably matched your hair. “Get out, Theodore.” 

Theo chuckled as you pushed him out the door. It was a feat in itself given the fact that he towered a good foot over you, but you managed to shove him through the threshold. Your best friend chuckled before placing a kiss on your forehead. 

“Have a good shower, fragolina,” A devious grin tugged at his lips as he paused. “Try not to think of me while you’re in there.” 

You rolled your eyes, but the words had already planted a very dangerous seed in your mind. As you stepped into the shower, you were ashamed to say that you failed Theo’s challenge. 

This bloody honeymoon suite would be the death of you. 

A wave of nostalgia hit you full force as you made your way down the stairs. In the dining room, your friends sat around the large mahogany table chatting and drinking. You exchanged a cheek kiss with Blaise and ruffled Enzo’s hair before making your way over to your usual spot. Theo grinned up at you and patted the seat next to him. 

“How was your shower?” 

“Fine,” you answered robotically. “Great. Uneventful.” 

Theo didn’t miss the way your eye twitched. The twat actually smirked. “I don’t know about that, bella. You sound a little tense. Should’ve taken me up on the offer. I would’ve been more than happy to throw in a complimentary massage. If you asked real nicely.” 

You flushed, crossing your arms. “I’d sooner invite Mattheo to shower with me than ask you for a massage.” 

Mattheo’s curly head perked up from across the table. “Oh?” Much to Theo’s annoyance, his best friend wiggled his brows and winked at you. “Finally tired of Notty boi, huh? You want a dose of Riddle, babe?” 

Before you could deign to respond, Nonna swatted the back of Mattheo’s head. He protested, but she showed no signs of remorse as she took a seat at the head of the table. 

“Do not ruin my appetite, Mattheo.” Nonna scolded. “Now be a dear and pass the lasagna. I didn’t slave away in the kitchen for hours just to listen to your lecherous comments.” 

At Mattheo’s defeated expression, you and Theo tried and failed in keeping in your laughter. Riddle glared at the two of you, but resigned himself to following Nonna’s orders. As your friends piled pasta onto their plates, a bittersweet feeling rushed through you. 

The people seated at this table had been an integral part of your life for as long as you could remember. Pansy, Blaise, Enzo, Draco, Mattheo, and Theo had always been just a couple of steps away, but now that you had all graduated, the seven of you would be scattered in different places. It made your heart ache just thinking about it. 

“We still have the whole summer,” Theo whispered softly. He nudged his knee against yours under the table. The familiarity of the gesture brought you comfort. It never ceased to amaze you just how well Theo knew you. 

“And the rest of your lives if I have anything to say about it,” said nonna as she filled your glass with red wine. “Smettila di fare il codardo, nipote.”

Theo groaned. You understood enough Italian to know that nonna was pushing her agenda again. “Not this again, nonna.” 

“I will not stop until you get it through your thick skull, Theodore.” 

As nonna launched into a full on lecture in her native language, you grinned in amusement at your best friend. Theo sulked like a child, but his expression brightened as you knocked your knee against his. 

After dinner, you spent the rest of the night camped out on the terrace. The view was stunning as the sun set over the horizon, tinging the villa in technicolor. Your friends gathered around the fire pit, sipping sangria and playing games. As usual, the boys found themselves a few galleons lighter after you swindled them during wizard poker. One would think that they’d learn their lesson by now, but your friends were still determined on risking their fortune against you. 

All except Theo. 

Knowing that his own mother passed down her skills of deception to you, Theo knew better than to challenge you. Instead, he sat back and watched the boys lose with a smile on his face. When you claimed your winnings, he beckoned you under the blanket and handed you another glass of wine. Though you could’ve easily blamed the sudden warmth on the charmed knit throw or the fine vintage, you had a feeling that the heat had more to do with your proximity to Theo. 

The scent of citrus and tobacco overwhelmed your senses as your best friend draped an arm over your shoulder. “Gonna share your prize with me, bella?” 

“Seeing as you did nothing to help me, I’m inclined to say no.” 

“Of course I helped. I pulled a vintage from the cellar so these idiots would keep playing even though they don’t stand a chance against you.” 

You chuckled. “Wine or not, they would’ve lost to me either way.” 

“Fine,” Theo said with a dramatic sigh. He pulled you to his side and kissed your temple “Keep your prize. I’ve already won anyways.” 

“You’re awfully sentimental tonight, aren’t you, Teddy?” 

“What can I say?” Theo mused, his blue eyes piercing into you. “This place brings it out of me. This country, this villa, it’s full of possibilities. Anything can happen here.” 

The heat of his gaze seared your skin, but you didn’t look away. A charge of electricity crackled in the air as if in confirmation of your best friend’s statement. 

Anything can happen here.

[sophsbookstore]

Exchanged Glances

Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader ｡･:*˚:✧�� 

Masterlist can be found in navigation!

Read pt. 2 here

A/N: Not super edited, I wanted to get it posted before the Grand Prix!

Word count: 1,581

Normally when Charles goes back home to Monaco he has his mom cut his hair. Like clockwork he will arrive at his moms salon, say hello to the various hairdressers and then go to his moms station to get a fresh cut. Only, this time things were different. 

A couple days before he was to arrive home Charles called his mom and asked what day she was free to cut his hair, with the upcoming Monaco Grand Prix it, and with it being his home race he was more available for a haircut than ever.

After their brief greetings to one another Charles’ mom told him that she would be out of town up until the day of the race. For the first time since joining formula one his mom wouldn't be able to cut his hair for him before the Monaco Grand prix.

“Don't worry Cha, I can refer you to another hairdresser at the salon.” She offered, trying to give him another solution.

“I don't know, you've always cut my hair, no one else.” 

“Then this will be a perfect time for you to step out of your comfort zone. Don't worry I know the perfect person, she’s new, around your age and she's magic in the salon.” Trusting his mom this easies Charles' nerves slightly.

“Ok maman.” The driver sighs in defeat.

“Wonderful! When you go to the salon ask for Y/N.'' With that his mom bid him farewell, telling him when to be at the salon, not going into any more detail about this mysterious hairdresser.

Before he knew it the day had come, he was going to step out of his comfort zone and have a complete stranger touch his hair. He hoped his mom wasn't lying when she was hyping up Y/N and her skills, he didn't want to go to the paddock looking a mess.

Charles enters the salon, all the employees giving him waves and greeting him. He's known some of these people his whole life, whenever he stepped foot in the salon it was like he was being greeted by family.

“Hello Charles, what can I help you with today?” The lady at the front desk asked.

"Hello, yes, my mom told me to ask for Y/N?” The boy shrugged in confusion.

“Oh of course! I'll go get her.” The lady that once sat in front of him was now off searching for the mysterious magic woman that was going to cut his hair.

Charles felt like he was waiting for hours, the salon wasn't that big was it? Maybe it was all in his head. He stood to the side of the waiting area, too consumed with stress to sit down and relax. Before he knew it the front desk lady came back, the woman he assumed to be Y/N trailing behind her.

This is when he finally got to have a good look at her. She was beautiful, why didn't his mom tell him that they started hiring part time models at the salon. The two stood awkwardly, both taking in one another, waiting for someone to make the first move.

Y/N cleared her throat. “Hello Charles, I’m Y/N. just follow me back to my station and we’ll get started”

Charles was too dumbfounded to respond, instead the man stuttered silently before nodding and following Y/N to the back of her salon. During the short walk to her station, Charles thought of questions to ask the beautiful girl, desperately wanting to hear the sound of her voice again.

“Thanks for trusting me with your hair today, your mom told me that you don't really let anyone else cut your hair.” She giggled.

“Oh! Yeah, she's been cutting mine and my brothers hair since we were kids.”

“That's so sweet. I understand where you're coming from I don't let anyone cut my hair, only myself.'' This put Charles at ease. Knowing that she thinks the same way he does, even about something so simple as hair.

After some comfortable small talk Y/N led Charles further back into the salon, sitting the boy down in a chair before leaning him back and washing his hair. The driver seemed to melt in her touch as she ran her fingers through his hair.

When Y/N pulled her hands away to apply more product Charles felt incomplete, like he was missing a sense of stability and peace within himself. Just as soon as she removed her hands she placed them back, continuing to massage his scalp with the shampoo.

Y/N pats Charles’ shoulders signaling to him that the wash was done and that they had to make their way back to her station. Y/N led the way, Charles trailing behind the girl before taking his spot in front of her in the salon chair.

“Are you excited for the grand prix?” Y/N questions taking some of his hair between her fingers, beginning the cut

“Very. I have a good feeling and my son will be there, hopefully we secure P1 and P2.”

“You have a son? What's his name?” Y/N questions, his mom not mentioning anything about a grandson.

“Oh! My apologies he's not really my son. He's a driver on the grid that I've somewhat adopted for the race weekend so that he can claim the Monaco grand prix as his home race.” Charles looks at Y/N hoping she doesn't find what he said both weird and confusing.

“HA!” The hairdresser laughed out loud. “Well congrats to him, I hope he has a fun and successful home race as well. I'll be sure to congratulate your maman about her newly found grandson.” 

Charles sat up a little higher in the chair, “Are you coming to the race?”

“I wish I could but I have to work, don't worry though, the salon will be playing the race so everyone can watch.” Y/N stopped cutting for a moment, looking at Charles through the mirror placed in front of them before giving him a warm smile.

Y/N picked up another section of his hair, continuing to snip away leaving Charles to examine the girl through the mirror. Y/N looked up from behind him, making a quick glance at him before the pair broke eye contact, looking separate ways.

Slowly their eyes started moving back to the mirror. The scissors snapping shut as the pair hold eye contact. Charles felt the tip of his ears getting hotter, the pair both noticing one another's subtle hints of red creeping onto their faces.

“Notice anything Mr. Leclerc?” Y/N questions, the corners of her mouth turning upward.

Charles opens his mouth to speak but words don't come out.

“Don't think I haven't noticed the subtle glances, there is either something on my face and you're trying to figure out how to tell me, or something going on in this head of yours.” She turns her attention back to his hair, the haircut almost over.

“I-” he clears his throat, “I was admiring you. You're very good at what you do.”

“I deeply appreciate Charles, truly.” Y/N made her final touches to the haircut. Unbuttoning the cloth that was draped over Charles, before dusting off his shoulders of any hair. “You're all finished, let me find a mirror so you can see the back.”

Y/N walked toward an unknown part of the salon, Charles' eyes following the girl through the mirror until she came back. This is it, if he doesn't say anything now he might never see her again.

The hairdresser came back, handing Charles a small hand held mirror for him to examine the back of his head. He admired her work, impressed with her skills. Placing the mirror down on a ledge near her station he got out of his chair and turned to her.

The two stared at one another, practically chest to chest. “Will you come to the grand prix?” He asked breathlessly.

“Nothing would delight me more but I have to work.” Y/N sighed looking away for a moment before her attention was pulled back to Charles.

“If you can't come to the race can you accompany me for dinner after?” Y/N looked at Charles, her cheeks getting ever so pinker.

“Mr. Leclerc are you asking me on a date?”

“That depends, would you like to go on a date with me?” Charles asked, not missing a beat.

“Yes Charles, I would love to.” 

Charles smiled from ear to ear, desperately wanting to bounce off the walls with excitement, stopping himself before he could embarrass himself. “Then I will see you tomorrow.” He nodded in satisfaction.

“See you tomorrow Charles.” Charles walked away from the hairdresser, giving her a quick glance back before making his way back to the lady at the front desk.

“Hair looks great! What did you think of Y/N?” She asked, ringing him up so he could make his payment.

“She's fantastic, I think maman will have some competition.” The two laughed, Charles paid, giving her a quick goodbye.

As soon as he exited the salon he called his mom, updating her on his post race plans, greatly thanking her for offering Y/N to cut his hair.

[jessiexcorner]

Heartbreak Highs. (pt. 3)

Description: Amerie, Harper, and (Y/n). The three were the best of friends until the incest map. A heartbreak high x reader. 

Part 1:

Part 2:

"You sure you’ll be good? You can stay over for longer if you want,” (Y/n) says to Darren as they step out of her car and peer in through the window.

“Yeah, thanks for letting me stay, and dropping me to work.”

“Yea, no worries, see you after your shift?” (Y/n) asks, to which Darren nods. She drives off heading to Harper’s aunt’s place to hang out.

“Hey Harp” (Y/n) says with a smile entering the house. She notices a younger kid next to Harper, her little cousin, they had met a couple of times. “Hey, little star!” (Y/n) raises her hand out for a high five which the kid gladly returns.

“Did you get it?” The kid asks excitedly.

(Y/n) hums and reaches into her bag to pull out some sweets, “Don't eat them all at once your mom will get mad at me if I spoil your appetite..” She tries to warn but the kid already has taken off running to her room with the bag of junk food. “..Just so you know I'm still mad at the fish thing…” (Y/n) states.

“..I got you your favorite snacks as an ‘im sorry’ gift,” Harper says holding out the small bag of treats.

“…Okay, maybe I'm a little less upset.”

Harper laughs and pulls the girl inside the home, wrapping an arm around her neck. They head to the guest room and laze around, talking, and watching a movie together. They lay in bed watching a random film on (Y/n)’s laptop. (Y/n) feels her phone buzz and looks at it to see a notification of a message from Darren, opening it to find an image of Amerie in butchered bangs. She looks up at Harper who’s focused on the movie. She texts 'Oh my god.’ to Darren and shuts her phone, snuggling closer to the blond girl, who doesn't mind. A few minutes later she gets another text from Darren which says ‘Fixed Dora’s haircut.’ With a photo of the new hair and Amerie in a trolly, a place familiar. (Y/n) furrows her brows, sitting up a bit and texting quickly. ‘You're at the roof? I thought you wanted me to pick you up?’ She pauses to read the response. ’Yeah sorry, I asked Quinni, we’re at the roof now. We’re actually going to head to the cemetery for the party,’ ‘What..’ (Y/n) types out but then delete and replace it with an ‘oh.’ She can't really blame them, she never told the two she was close friends with Amerie before she became a Dusty-obsessed mean girl. They only knew about Harper and that she and Harp had a falling out but, now are on better terms. ‘You should come, please? It wouldn't be the same.’ (Y/n) pauses at the message. 'PLEASE COME!!1!’ Another message says. ’That was Quinni, but yes’ (Y/n) smiles a little at the text before responding with ‘okay.’

“Hey Harp, you're going to the cemetery thing yeah?”

“Yeah, why?” Harper looks over at the (h/c) hair girl.

“I wanna come.” Harper looks at her with surprise.

“Really? You never wanted to go before, but alright, if you’re sure,” She says with a smile.

At the cemetery, most teens carry a drink or smoke enjoying themselves. (Y/n) sticks close to Harper as the girl talks with Missy and Sasha, not drinking any alcohol. She looks around waiting for Darren and Quinni. “Hey, you good?” Harper asks.

“Oh, yeah, Darren said that they and Quinni were coming, I'm just keeping an eye out.” (Y/n) explains.

“Ah,” Harper nods understanding. (Y/n) notices Harper is almost done with her drink.

“Want me to get you another?” (Y/n) asks not wanting to stand around silently or awkwardly as Sasha, Missy, and Harper talk.

“If you're okay with it, sure,” Harper says noticing the fact (Y/n) was silent throughout the whole party. The (h/c) haired girl nods humming and walks to the drinks to find an unopened and untampered bottle. As she searches the cooler she notices someone standing next to her, she looks up to see the new kid.

“Hey,” He starts.

“Hi..” She responds going back to her search for the drink.

“Looking for that?” He points out a bottle that seems to be unopened.

“Oh, yeah.. Thanks,” She grabs the bottle, checking it once more.

“I'm Malakai.” He reaches out his hand.

She stands up before reaching her own hand out, “(Y/n).”

“You don’t seem like someone who comes here often,”

(Y/n) raises a brow “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, no I didn't mean, it's just you seem uncomfortable around here…” Malakai tries to explain.

“… it's actually my first time at something like this.” (Y/n) admits.

“Hey, me too.” He smiles.

“Right.” She pauses, not used to talking to a lot of new people, or comfortable talking to someone she doesn't already know.

“Can I offer you a drink?”

“I don't drink.” (Y/n) declines.

“Oh, okay that’s cool.”Malakai is about to say something else when (Y/n) excuses herself.

“I have to get this to my friend,” She points in Harper’s general direction.

“Oh, uh, sure, see you around?” He asks hopefully.

(Y/n) hums but leaves immediately as soon as she gets the chance to run back to her friend’s side.

“Hey, saw you talking to the new kid,” Harper teases a bit taking the drink (Y/n) brought her.

“Hm? Oh yeah.” (Y/n) moves on by not speaking of the topic anymore.

“Well, he seemed like he wanted to talk to you, actually he still seems like he wants to talk to you,” Harper points out, (Y/n) glances at the direction of where the coolers were, and Malakai is looking at the girl and her friend. (Y/n) looks away and awkwardly shrugs. It only took another minute before sundown when Darren, Quinni, and Amerie arrive. (Y/n) spots her friends and is about to say hi, but stops when she sees Amerie. She taps Harper to let her know, who had arrived. Harper looks over and sees the group, and nods in acknowledgment. Quinni finding (Y/n) smiles and waves, which the girl returns back. Amerie on the other hand spotting her old friends wants to turn back. Malakai walks up to Amerie holding out a beer.

"Hey, cunt. My actual name's Malakai, by the way.”

“Amerie.” The girl introduces herself. (Y/n) notices the interaction and looks away focusing on her friends Darren and Quinni. Smiling, she is about to walk up to them but, Malakai seemingly wanting to cheer Amerie up, starts dancing which makes Quinni pull Amerie to the dance floor and begin dancing with her and Darren. (Y/n)’s smile falters a little, pulling back she moves away from the middle of the dance floor back to the sides. Once Amerie seems to be done having her fun with Malakai; Darren and Quinni catch up with (Y/n) and they talk about Quinni’s plan to confront Spider about the rumor and Darren’s encounter with Cash earlier that day.

“Oh really? That's so cool Quinni, it'll be hilarious!” (Y/n) hypes up her friend, encouraging her.

“Oh! I should tell Amreie too,” Quinni walks off with a smile leaving (Y/n) on her own as Darren had left to get a drink. She looks around shuffling before deciding to look for Harper. While searching she bumps into someone.

“Oh, sorry,”

“Oh hey, it's you.” Malakai smiles once more after stabilizing the both of them.

“Oh, uh, yup.” (Y/n) nods turning away.

“Hey, could I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“Do you not like me or are you just shy?”

“..What?”

“I dunno, you just seem to avoid me, or people in general.”

“..Well, I don't exactly know you enough to not like you.”

“You could, get to know me that is. I would like to get to know you,” He says with a smile.

Oh. Well, this was… different. Not a bad thing, maybe, but strange indeed. “Oh, uh—“ (Y/n) was cut off and a bit distracted when she saw Quinni walking towards Spider to confront him about the 'Lazy kebab' rumor. Malakai glances at what caught the girl’s attention.

"Hey, Spider.” Quinni hands the guy a large blue folder, full of diagrams and images. Spider skims through with wide eyes, and makes a face.

"Yuck! What is this shit?"

"Oh. You don't like vaginas?” Quinni asks, seemingly genuine.

"No, I like vaginas.” Spider corrects her, thinking that the girl is implying something else.

Well, you clearly don't know much about them because if you have a look here…See most vaginas have very pronounced flaps, or labia, and some of them are even lopsided, where I'm assuming you got "Lazy Kebab" from, but it's very, very, normal. You wouldn't know, it's not taught in public schools much. Which is actually very— “ Quinni rambles as she points at the diagrams and pictures. People begin to notice the commotion and Spider’s reactions.

“I've seen heaps of vaginas. Thanks.” Spider says harshly shoving the folder back to the girl.

“Okay. I just assumed, on account of the fact that you were lying about seeing mine, that you were lying about seeing others too.” Quinni says calmly in her usual tone, directly insulting him and discrediting him in one sentence. The kids around snicker and laugh. (Y/n) watches with a proud smile.

"Look, of course, we didn't have sex. Why would I root a fucknut like you?” Spider retorts angrily walking away. A girl, Sasha comes up to compliment Quinni.

“That's your friend right?” Malakai asks (y/n) noticing her smile.

“Yes,"

"she’s amazing,”

“She is,” (Y/n) beams,

“You have a pretty smile,”

That makes (Y/n) pause and nervous. She was never really the best at these things. There is a reason why she was labeled as 'Fish' on the map. She turns her head away chuckling nervously, not sure how to respond. But like a knight in shining armour, Harper links her arm to hers.

“Hey, I needed to take a piss, come with me?” Harper says not paying attention to the boy. Until she notices the fidgety and shy look on her friend’s face and grins. “Am I interrupting?”

“No! I’ll come with you, bye Malakai.” (Y/n) says dragging the blond away who chuckles at her. Malakai stands where he was left with a smile watching the girls walk away.

“So, Malakai is it? Does little (Y/n) have a crush?” Harper teases.

“Why does everyone keep saying that? It's nothing, he’s just being friendly.”

“Yeah, I'm sure he’s being friendly… the ‘you have a pretty smile’ friendly.” Harper says mocking the conversation she heard earlier as she squats near the graves to pee.

“You hear that?!” (Y/n) turns to face away letting the girl piss in peace, but also a little embarrassed.

“Come on it's cute!”

“Shush— Oh shit.“

“What?”

“..Amerie.” (Y/n) says as if warning the other girl. The brown girl walks towards them both staring directly at Harper as she pees.

"Oi, can we talk?” Amerie says, eyeing (Y/n) who doesn't say anything but stays close to Harper, like a guard dog.

"Jesus. Let me finish.” Harper huffs. She pauses and continues, "Just talk until I can get going again."

"Why don't you want to be friends anymore? After everything, Harp? It's killing me. I just want to fix it. Please tell me how to fix it.”

"What happened to your hair?” Harper changes the subject.

"I cut it."

“Yourself?” Harper raises a brow.

"Yes,” Amerie says confidently, making (Y/n) scoff, Darren did her hair. Why lie?

Harper chuckles, pulling up her pants and buttoning them. "I told you not to watch those YouTube tutorials. You never listen."

"And you never talk. What happened? We were fine up until the festival.” Amerie says desperately wanting to get closer, only to have (Y/n) step in a bit, protectively. "I went to your house and you weren’t—“

“Why did you go to my house?"

"You weren't talking to me—“

"So you stalked my house and harassed my dad?"

"I didn't harass your dad,” Amerie says lightly.

"That is such the typical psycho thing for you to do."

"You're the psycho. You ruined my life."

"Ruined your life? All this sh*t, Amerie, the map, your stupid fucking crush on Dusty, do you not understand how unimportant it all is? You're a child.” Harper snaps.

"That's not a reason to dump me. What's happened to you? Harper. I just want to move on.” Amerie says softly.

"And I don't want you in my life anymore,” Harper says harshly, tugging (Y/n) along with her.

“Since when did you replace me with (Y/n),” Amerie retorts in a last-ditch effort.

“I didn’t do shit. Unlike you, she’s actually my friend.” Harper defends (Y/n) while hurting Amerie in the process. Harper and (Y/n) walk away from the brown girl. (Y/n) notices the girl shaking and holding her hand gently squeezing back and letting Harper catch her breath and calm down.

“..Thanks, Harper.. you didn’t have to,”

“i did. You have always been there for me. The least I can do is be there for you too,” Harper says focusing on the way (Y/n)’s thumb rubs over her still-cracked knuckles. The two head back to the party, hand in hand.

@inkpot-winters

@juhdoche

@minnipe

thank you for waiting, sorry for any grammar mistakes and a short chap. <3

[littlexdeaths]

blondes do have more fun - e.m.

y2k eddie munson x girly reader

warnings: robin and reader get so drunk, reader is too clumsy for her own good

opposites attract masterlist

a/n: another edit and repost of this y2k series. this was the second blurb i ever wrote for them and it was heavily inspired by that one scene in 10 things i hate about you, iykyk. enjoy babes 💕

word count: 1.2k

It was an impulse decision.

So of course he would be surprised.

If you were being honest, you were a little scared to see Eddie’s reaction. Which was why you asked Nancy to tag along with you to the hair salon. Knowing she would give you her honest opinion either way.

It took over two hours to get your locks to the bleach blonde perfection you desired. Keeping your eyes off of the mirror during the entire process due to your nerves. So when the stylist finally spun your chair around, you were genuinely shocked as you fell in love upon meeting your reflection.

You had never done much with your hair over the years, besides the occasional haircut. But you were itching to try out something new. Finding yourself inspired by your latest obsession, Legally Blonde.

You had dragged Eddie to see it with you in theaters more times than you cared to admit— but he never once complained.

He had actually enjoyed it, even making a comment or two about how he thought Reese Witherspoon was pretty. Which got the wheels in your head turning, leading you into a salon chair with bleach covering your head.

“It looks amazing, hun,” Nancy gushed as you left the salon, arms linked together as you ventured deeper into the Starcourt Mall.

There was a new air of confidence about you as you walked, sipping on Orange Julius’ smoothies. You all but dragged her into Wet Seal to help you find the perfect outfit for later. Steve was hosting yet another rager, which had become a recurring weekend event amongst your friend group.

After many trips to the fitting room (and an impromptu fashion show), you eventually walked out of the mall with a mini black dress and matching pair of platform sandals.

You decided to keep this new look under wraps for the rest of the day, waiting until Steve’s party to reveal it to everyone.

As you walked into the male’s home you kept your head high, pushing through the crowd of tipsy college kids to find your friends. Eddie was going to meet you here after band practice had wrapped up. But you couldn’t help but feel your nerves stirring in your stomach.

What if he hated it?

Logically you knew it didn’t matter, it was your hair after all. But you still wanted him to like it nonetheless.

You spotted Robin and Steve in the living room, bounding over to them with a smile. They were clearly in the middle of a squabble of some sort, but Robin’s face lights up once she sees you.

It was quite obvious she was already wasted, her cheeks thoroughly flushed as she stumbled towards you. Steve’s eyes widen in surprise, attempting to reign her back in but she easily shrugs him off.

“Oh my god, Nance told me it looked good. But it’s way better than I could’ve imagined!” She squealed, pulling you into a hug as you just laughed.

She leans closer to your ear, hanging onto your arm for support, “Dude… Eddie is gonna lose it. It’s giving Pam Anderson and Elle Woods— you look hot.”

You felt your cheeks warm from her words, as Steve is finally able to tug her off of you with an annoyed expression. You hadn’t even thought about that, taking a glance down at your attire. It was very reminiscent of an outfit you’d seen Ms. Anderson sporting on the cover of one of those trashy tabloid magazines recently.

Robin was right, per usual but it only makes you more anxious for your boyfriend to arrive.

You make your way over to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink, nearly chugging it in an attempt to make your nerves disappear. But one drink quickly turns into four and having not eaten much before you arrived— you became very drunk, very fast.

So drunk that you didn’t even notice when Eddie finally did arrive, after a very concerned phone call from Steve.

The brunette was already having to babysit Robin, but now he was struggling to keep you both in check. Chasing the two of you around his house, your chorus of giggles barely being heard above the bubbly pop music. Eddie arrives soon after that phone call, searching frantically through the crowd of people to find you.

However it didn’t take him very long to do so.

A crowd had begun to form in Steve’s dining room, as you pulled Robin up onto his table with you. Both of you dancing drunkenly on the top of it, letting the heavy bass pump through you. The both of you ignore the whistles and shouts from the crowd, raising your hands above your head.

Eddie had finally pushed his way to the front of the crowd, watching in amusement as you got a little too into the gyration of your hips. Not a care in the world as you tossed your head back. Seemingly forgetting about the large chandelier that hung behind you. That amusement turns to slight horror as the back of your head smacks right against the light fixture.

A combination of the impact and the alcohol has you feeling lightheaded, your knees start to wobble. Robin gasps in shock, attempting to grab on to your wrist but fails miserably as you lose your balance. Letting you fall back into the crowd and right into a pair of strong arms.

Your vision is blurred and your head starts to spin as the person quickly carries you out of the room, cradling you against their chest. In your inebriated and dizzy state you don’t realize it’s the metalhead you’ve been waiting to see all night.

You squirm in his arms, attempting to get him to put you down, “Excuse me— I have a boyfriend.” You huff, pushing against their denim clad shoulder, “Put me down!”

The pout adorning your lips causes him to chuckle, immediately recognizing the sound. You blink your lashes rapidly as your boyfriend’s face finally comes into focus. That pout is quickly replaced with a toothy grin, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss him.

Eddie kisses you back gently, kicking the door shut behind him. He sits you both down on the bed, now in the comfort of Steve’s guest room. You snuggle up into his chest immediately, playing with his dark curls.

“Glad you’ve finally come back down to earth, love,” he hums, "Is your head feeling okay?”

You sigh happily, nodding as Eddie begins to feel the back of your head. Carefully inspecting it to make sure you haven’t done any significant damage. You wince as he finds a tender spot, the male pressing a light kiss to it.

“So you dye your hair and go completely off the rails,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I’m just glad I got here when I did.”

His concerned tone makes you giggle nonetheless, leaning up to press a sloppy kiss against his jaw. The room had finally stopped spinning, and you felt ready to get back to the party.

“You know what they say, Eds, blondes have more fun.”

Eddie just rolls his eyes at you fondly, ruffling your freshly dyed locks.

“Uh huh, sure they do, sweetheart.”

[gothicchildofthenight]

Dead-Bird

FEM DNI‼️ (She/her, She/they, etc.) - you’ll be blocked.

request: “hihi ! can you write rodrick x ftm reader thats just like , treated as one of the guys in rodricks friend group and has a sense of belonging , then heather outs the reader or something n rodrick stands up for them (???) im not sure where im going with this request u can interpret it however u want”

summary: moving to plainview for a fresh start while you’re transitioning. you meet rodrick heffley, resident emo, and become inseparable. what happens when heather hills gets jealous thats he’s turned all his attention on you?

descriptions: ftm!reader, intended for a black reader but can be read by any race, rodrick might be ooc (??), i made heather really mean (and homophobic 😭) but in reality i have no hate to her HER ACTRESS IS GORGINA, slur drop (f word), maybe the reader a girly kid sorry if that upsets anyone, cursing, throwing up (only happens once and i don’t think it’s detailed), let me know if i missed anything!!

a/n: yall, i know i said friday, but circumstances change (especially when baby siblings are sick asf) so i’m sorry. you’re allowed to yell at me in the comments!! BUT ITS FINALLY HERE‼️ pls let me know if you like it, and if you think i should change anything. i can always improve!!

word count: 8.29k (i got carried away 😭)

———————————————————————————-

For as long as you can remember, you knew you didn’t feel right with who you were. You wore the dresses, the skirts, joined the girls line when you were split off and you were ok with it, but it never felt right. You wanted to get your hands dirty, skin your knee, and you could do all of that with the girls, but you wanted to do it with the boys.

Your parents seemed to acknowledge this and your family just labeled you a tomboy. It wasn’t until your last year of middle school that you realized who you were, what you were. You were a boy, you were trans.

After going back and forth with yourself, you go to your parents with tears streaming down your face. With the way you and your parents were raised, it didn’t seem like they were going to be accepting.

“Are you done blubbering?” Your mom had asked you, which made you cry even more because you didn’t know if that could be good or bad. “We knew this could be a possibility with you just wanting to be with little boys.”

“Just because your grandparents have a skewed perspective on gender doesn’t mean we do.” Your dad joined in with a hand on your shoulder.

And with that started your transition journey. First with therapy, then doctor visits, and finally testosterone. When you started taking testosterone (end of sophomore year), you and your parents moved to give you a fresh start. With their careers, they could work anywhere as long as they could travel.

Plainview was just that, plain, but it got the job done so you can lay low. You couldn’t even point it out on a map, but it seemed like a great place to get a fresh start. Family homes, mom and pop shops, and maybe 6 schools around. No one knows you, seeing as you moved almost cross-country, so perfect.

Your first day wasn’t anything like you imagined. You thought you would be clocked immediately, especially since in the rush to move and get enrolled in school you had forgotten to get your haircut. You lucked out though, because the only reason someone (besides a teacher) came to talk to you was because of your Pearl Jam shirt.

That was the day you met Rodrick Heffley, resident “bad boy” with a band that wasn’t shit (you could say that seeing as you were in it) and a taste for rock and metal. That’s who came to talk about your shirt.

“You listen to Pearl Jam?” He asked, and you were immediately on the defense.

You knew you didn’t exactly look the part of emo metalhead, you had heard it your whole life growing up. “Listen to your normal music,” was a common one, and you won’t lie, it hurt. Especially from the popular white kids because it was just another tally mark against you.

“Yes? What about it?” You snapped.

“Woah, didn’t know I touched a nerve,” his face had reddened a little, but besides that it didn't change. “I was just gonna ask your favorite song.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “I like Why Go from the Ten album.”

“Cool, cool, that’s a good one.” And then you both just stood there staring at each other. “Do you want to come over to my house after school?”

“I don’t even know you, kid,” you chuckled, “what are you, a kindergartener?”

“Well excuse me for trying to be nice.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m Rodrick.”

He held out his hand, which you hesitantly shook. “I’m (Y/N).”

“So are you coming over or what?”

And just like that he became one of the most important people in your life– along with his best friends; Drew, Ward, Chris, and Ben. Present day, you are never without Rodrick, and he, you. It doesn’t take a lot to convince the other to do something you probably shouldn’t, which leads to you guys getting in trouble a lot.

Like how one time towards the end of junior year in the middle of the night, Rodrick and you snuck out for a carnival almost 2 hours away. You had been relaxing at home, reading, when you heard little tinks coming from your window. You knew it was Rodrick throwing rocks at your window. He always did that when he’d sneak out of his house to come to yours.

“What the hell do you want?” You jokingly whisper-yelled as you opened your window.

“Come to a fair with me!” He whispered back.

“Last time I checked, the summer fair didn’t come until after school ended?”

“Because it’s not the one in Plainview, it’s the one in Huntington! Just come on!” He groans.

“First of all, I’m in pajamas!” You motioned up and down yourself. “Second of all, that’s almost two hours away!”

“So what, you’ve snuck out with me before! What makes this time any different? Come on, (Y/N), live a little!”

“Fuck it, fine!” and you closed your window to change. Your parents were long gone asleep, so you doubt they’d check on you, meaning you were in the clear.

You settled on baggy pants and a short sleeve, which is what you almost always wear, before you jumped out your window (you were on the second floor, yea, but your house wasn’t that big so it wasn’t a huge jump). Rodrick was waiting in his van, so you climbed into the passenger seat and set off.

You took a mini nap on the way, but after you woke up, you guys didn't shut up. From school to new albums, you talked about it all. You guys always were like this, (still were) even though at this point you’d only known each other a couple months. It scared you a little, how close you two had gotten in such a little period of time, mainly because you don’t want him to drop you because of who you were before.

“We’re here!” He pulled into a parking spot. You both climbed out of the van and met in front of it. “You brought your wallet, right?”

“Hanging with you? Of course not.” You deadpanned, before pulling out your wallet with a smile. “Why would I go to a fair without my wallet?”

He just rolled his eyes, slung his arm around your neck and walked to the ticket booth. Once in the fair, you guys set a plan to leave around 2:00 so you can get back in time for school.

You run around together, ride to ride, concession stand every chance you can get, and then barfing into a trash can. “I will never sneak out with you again.”

“Sure, ok,” Rodrick scoffed. “Come on, I want to ride the ferris wheel before going home!”

“Sure,” you rolled your eyes as you wiped your mouth, “just let me finish tossing my organs into this dumpster.”

“Let's go, smart ass.”

Surprisingly, there wasn’t a long line for the wheel. You’re on it in 5 minutes, and at the top in another 5.

“Told you it was worth it.” Rodrick teased as you looked out to the neon fair lights.

“Yea, yea, whatever,” you mumbled, too busy looking out at the eye widening view.

There’s a moment of silence. “Y’know, I’m glad we met each other.”

“Ew, don’t get all sentimental on me. Especially on a ferris wheel, that's just cringey.” You joke.

“I’m being serious!” He sighs. “Like I love the band, but I think me and you got closer in the span of a few months than me and them since middle school. It’s crazy.”

“Yea, sure, ok, dude,” you look back out to the lights. You couldn’t look him in the eyes because you had this warm feeling in your gut that you couldn’t place.

Rodrick doesn’t allow you to, though, as he grabs your face in one hand to make you look at him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I want you to say it,” he stares into your eyes, seeming to search for something.

“Say what, jackass?” You feel your face catch on fire in the dark of the night.

“That I’m your best friend.” He looks so serious, and his eyes never leave yours.

“You’re my best friend,” you roll your eyes with a grin, “can you let me go now?”

“We’ll work on it.” He pats the side of your face and then faces the lights outside the wheel.

When you're both off the ferris wheel, you’re headed back home. The car ride home was silent, you in your own head and Rodrick seemed tired. You offered for him to stay over and sleep until school starts, but he declines, knowing his parents will wake him up in the morning.

You pull up to your house but just sit there for a second. “It was a bunch of fun, as always. Til we sneak out again.”

“See ya,” he smiles and lightly punches your shoulder.

“See ya, dude,” and you head to your house.

When you see him pull off, you lightly close your front door. As you turn around, your soul leaves your body.

“I don’t even want to know,” your mom holds her hand up to silence you. “Phone, now.”

You sigh, but do it.

It seemed that’s what happened with Rodrick, too, so for the rest of the school year you and Rodrick could only contact each other at school. He still snuck over, that wasn't going to stop.

You don’t regret leaving with him that night, because you had never had someone willingly be that close to you.

—

Currently, you’re all huddled up in the hot attic that is his room, but it was the only place without younger kids so you don’t complain much.

“Dude, I thought this year was gonna be it!” Rodrick complains as he lays upside down on his bed.

“Oh, it’s gonna be it, alright,” Ben rolls his eyes and throws a paper ball in Rodricks direction. “It’s going to be the year I finally strangle you if you mention Heather Hills one more time.” We all chuckle at how true it was.

Right now, he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about Heather Hills. Even though you had come in the middle of junior year, it was quick knowledge that he had a crush on her since middle school. At first it was cute, but after some unforeseen circumstances, you actually hated hearing her name. It wasn’t like you had a crush on him (It was), but the fact that she didn’t give him the time of day, and even when she did it was just to make fun of him or to have him do something.

“I second that, it’s fucking annoying,” you push him off the bed, seeing as you were on it right next to him.

“Ow, you dick!” he sits up and rubs his head.

“We’re, like, four months from graduating, if she wanted you, she would’ve said it.”

“Yea but-” Ward cuts him off.

“But nothing, bro, she don’t want your ass.”

It’s what you’ve been telling him this whole time, but you didn’t want to be too pressed about it because you didn’t want him to think you like her. You didn’t like her, you liked the one who liked her. You hadn’t realized it until you saw Heather sweetening him up one time and it hurt to watch– and not in a disgusted way.

You had no idea about your sexuality, you knew you liked boys even before you transitioned, but as you became more comfortable with yourself girls weren’t so bad either. You had been on a few dates with mostly girls (there weren’t many out guys in a small town, who knew?), but no one was Rodrick.

“I mean, I know, subconsciously,” he points to his head, “but she has this way of being in your head, no matter how mean she is.”

“Blah blah blah, bruh we don’t caaaarreee!” You roll your eyes and fall back on his bed. “She’s probably going to, like, Harvard or some shit and gonna marry rich. She doesn’t have time for loser guys like ourselves unless we can do something for her. It’s been that way since middle school, and it’ll be that way til the end of time”

“Major harsh, dude,” Drew pipes up.

“Whatever,” You get up and grab your backpack. “I’m going home, see you bozos tomorrow.”

You know why it bothers you so much, but you didn’t think you went that far. Hell, even Ward said something, but you were the one who was being “major harsh”? You roll your eyes as you stomp off to your house.

“Major harsh, my ass,” you murmur to yourself.

—

Tomorrow comes faster than you’d like. It wasn’t like you blew up on the guys, but you were pissed that you had been shut down. You kind of wanted to avoid them and go straight to class, but when you exit your house you see Rodricks van. The ride to school was pretty quiet except for the “good morning,” you all exchanged amongst yourselves.

“You were right,” Rodrick nudges you. When you give him a confused look, he goes on, “Heather is never gonna want me, and I’m taking myself off the market for other babes.”

“Oh, all those poor girls, saved,” you chuckle. Now you kind of feel bad, “but seriously, my bad if I went too far with what I was saying. I don’t have an excuse for what I said, but I am sorry.”

“Nah, I needed that good kick in the ass so I could wake up. Thanks, bro.” He playfully punches your shoulder.

“No problem, bro.”

As we pull up to school, you see Heather and her friends around their red convertible bug. You didn’t know whose it was, it was passed around more than a blunt in your group. Every morning they were there, and every morning Rodrick went to talk to them, talk to her, like clockwork.

“So are we skipping today, boys?” Rodrick suggests.

In a unison of ‘Hell Yea’s, you were the voice of reason. “Fuck no.”

They all groan, as they usually do when you’re right. We’re walking away from the van as you explain, “Y’all don’t have enough brain cells or credits to afford to skip. If yall want to blow this place, ya gotta graduate. You don’t even have to have honors.”

“Whatever, nerd,” Rodrick shoves you with a chuckle. “You can be a suck up and stay all day, but we’re outta here.”

“You can suck up on my balls, jackass,” you laugh and shove him back.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” he shoves back.

“You’d love that!” but you don’t push him, you look in front of you.

You expected to see the red car, but you saw the stairs. You had passed the car?

You look behind you, and you still see the group talking about someone cheating on someone’s boyfriend, but you notice Heather Hills looking at you.

This wasn’t the first time Rodrick had ignored Heather for you, but that was at lunch. He always talked to her in the morning. You don’t know why, but you knew that this was her last straw.

When you had first moved here, you weren’t on her radar until you had talked to him. She was just standing off to the side and you didn’t realize it then, but he was just talking to her and stopped to talk to you. You could feel her glare, but when you looked at her she gave you a sugary sweet smile. That wasn’t the last time you would see that fake smile, but after this morning you knew it would be.

—

“I don’t know what you told him, but you need to untell him.”

The voice wasn’t unfamiliar to you, but you weren’t used to it being directed at you.

“Hi, Heather, how are you on this beautiful day?” You smile at her, though it was probably closer to a grimace.

“Cut the shit, you heard me.” She growls as you put your stuff in your locker.

“Why does it have to be me saying anything to him? Maybe he actually grew some balls and a brain.”

“You’re like a lost puppy around him, of course you said something.”

“Well, Heather,” you huff as you drop your bag and face her, “he used to follow you around like a lost puppy and I got sick of it because you were using him. I don’t know why it bothered me so much, but it did, so I told him that.”

“I know why,” she leans closer to your face with a whisper. “It’s because you’re a gay little bitch who hopes he looks in your direction but he wouldn’t even spit near you. I see how you look at him, but just remember he looks at me like that.”

“Ok,” you roll your eyes. “Why do you care so much? You admitted several times that you don’t like him.”

“He needs to like me, not the other way around. It gives other guys the idea that they can be with me and I can get gifts out of it. So if you don’t fix this, I can get so much dirt on you it’d make your head spin.”

“I think the bleach fumes are finally getting to your brain,” you scoff, trying not to seem nervous. You didn’t think that she could get to your secret, but that bitch has power in high places. But you had come so far without being outed, so you didn’t think it’d happen this close to your escape. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not gonna do that because you’re a bitch who doesn’t deserve any attention.”

She slams your locker in your face, “You’ll regret that.” And as she walks away you roll your eyes and mumble a “bitch”.

She doesn’t even want him, but I can’t have him? Whatever, bitch.

—

You decided to keep your little interaction from Rodrick and the gang because you knew it’d open up a) what she could find on you and b) did Heather actually like Rodrick and she’s lying? You just let them lead the conversation as you try to rationalize with yourself.

How would she find out your trans? You’ve been stealth for a year and your school medical records are locked up tight. She can’t out anything but you being gay and even that was a little chest tightening. At least you’ll still be a man, even if it was a gay one. Being outed as trans could shatter people’s perception of you and you’ll be that weird “girl” again.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Rodrick asks you and you realize you’re the only two in the van now.

“Nothing, just exhausted. I need to be asleep right now,” you pretend to rub your eyes.

“Whatever you say, dude,” he sighs, but puts his hand on your shoulder and looks you in the eyes. “I’m here whenever you wanna talk, you seem to have a lot on your mind.”

It makes you freeze. It’s not like he isn’t always like this, he’s your best friend, but it doesn’t help after your conversation with Heather. He does this with every guy in the group, he may put on a front of being a dick to his brother, Greg, but he really cares for his friends. You have to convince yourself that this was just that, nothing more.

“Eyes on the road, weirdo,” you shrug his arm off with a nervous laugh. “I told you I was fine, I’m just tired.”

“Ok, dude,” he rolls his eyes.

Before you know it, he drops the rest of the guys off at their houses. You’re usually the last one to get dropped off since more often than not you’re the first one to be picked up. But when Rodrick passes your house, you have more than a few questions.

“Where the hell are you taking me?” You sigh.

“Obviously you won’t tell me what’s actually wrong, so we’re going to hang out til that frown turns upside down!” He smiles as he passes his house, too.

“How did I become friends with such a cornball? Aren’t you supposed to be the resident bad boy, go back to that.”

“You know you love me,” he smirks.

More than you know, that’s the reason I’m in this mess! You almost say, but stick with, “Sure, whatever you say.”

You know exactly what he’s going to do, you guys do it every time one of y’all are going through it. Head to the gas station to get slushies and snacks, then go out to your favorite clearing in the woods. He even does it with Greg sometimes, even though he likes to act like he hates his younger brothers.

“Isn’t the point of a slushy to mix all of the flavors together?” Rodrick rolls his eyes.

“We have this conversation every time we come here, I get two flavors that compliment each other! All of those flavors confuse your mouth and you lose taste buds.”

“You lie just like my mother, which means you lie like shit.” And for that you slap his shoulder. “OW!”

“Don’t talk about Susan like that!” You say, jokingly offended. You go to hit him again, but he grabs your hand.

“You’re a fucking nut case.”

“OMG!” You hear an all too familiar voice excitedly yelp. “I thought I heard your voice!”

“Oh, hey Heather.” Rodick turns to talk to her, forgetting to let go of your hand. “What are you doing in here?”

“My friends wanted to stop in here to get some junk.” She waves her hand behind her and rolls her eyes. “I obviously don’t eat stuff like that, I mean, look at me.” Rodrick doesn’t even glance down when she motions at herself.

“Good for you, me and (Y/N) are actually in here for some snacks, too.”

She finally looks at you, and then at you and Rodricks combined hands. You squirm under her stare and take your hand out of Rodricks. He looks at you in seeming confusion, but doesn’t say anything.

“I didn’t see you there, hey (Y/N)!” She has a smile on her face, but you can see in her eyes the amount of hatred she has for you.

“Hey, Heather…” You almost whisper, and then turn to seem busy with your slushy.

“Well, we should get out of here, bye Heather.”

“Oh, yeah, I think my friends went back to the car, so I should head out, too.” She turns to leave, but looks back over her shoulder and waves seductively. “Bye, Rodrick!”

When you hear the front door bell ring, you finally release the breath you had been holding in. “Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself.

“What was that?” Rodrick turns to you with a smile and points behind him. “She’s never willingly came up to me unless she needs something. And she just wanted…conversation?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” You paint on a smirk even though your heart is racing. She had seen you with Rodrick, holding hands (completely his fault!), and he couldn’t be any less interested in her! You just know your fate is sealed.

“Well, let’s get this shit paid for and go.” He grabs up your food and you grab the slushies.

With everything paid for, you guys hop back into the van and head into the trail a few blocks down. It wasn’t anything official, but you hadn’t gotten in trouble for being out here, so yall just kept going.

You park the van and head into the back, opening the doors for some fresh air.

“So are you ready to tell me what’s up?” Rodrick asks after a few sips of his slushy abomination.

“I told you that I’m just exhausted.” You keep up your front.

“And I told you that you lie like my mom,” he sighs. “So you might as well just spill it.”

“It’s just something that me and my family have to deal with, you don’t have to worry about it!” You know if you bring your family into it, he’ll stop pushing it because he knows your parents don’t play.

“Ok, ok, I’ll let it go.” He raises his hand in defense.

You don’t respond, and you guys are submerged into silence once again. You exchange looks when you don’t think the other is looking, but besides that you take in the forest around you.

Heather could never experience these moments with Rodrick and understand how precious it is. Rodrick has always been the weird “bad boy” (people literally only say this because of his clothes and that makes you roll your eyes) who some of the girls wanted but if it got out they did like him, they’d be made fun of. You see how some of the girls look at him when he isn’t looking, and it hurts your heart. You know they have more of a chance than you ever would.

But with you, he was never like this. He was the goofy, caring friend who’d drop everything if you said the word. Heather only sees him as an object that gives her affection, but you see him as he truly is; a guy who loves and just wants it back. He just wants to be seen.

“Y’know you’re my best friend, right?” You blurt before you can think about it.

“Only took you a year to be genuine about it,” he nudges your shoulder.

“What?”

“The ferris wheel.” He states like you’re just supposed to know. And you do.

“You still remember that?” You gape.

“Anyway, yes I am your best friend, just like how you’re mine.” He grins at you, and then he drops it, “you’re not planning anything are you?”

“Oh my god, a guy can’t express his appreciation for his best friend?” You throw your hands up.

“I’m watching you,” he squints his eyes and points at you.

You get a text from your mom wondering where you are, and that’s the end of your little outing with Rodrick.

When he drops you home, Heather is the furthest thing from your mind, even though you know holding Rodricks hand (even though it wasn’t even purposely!) would be a slight against you.

—

Over the next two weeks, Heather's empty threat went to the back burner of your mind. If she wanted to out you, it would’ve happened by now. I’m safe, you sighed in relief.

Rodrick continued not to go up to her in the morning, but if she talked to him he definitely talked back. It seemed to calm her attitude toward you now, but it still was a hot seat around her. Like now, she’s passing around flyers for her party this weekend and intentionally passed by you.

“Rodrick, you’re definitely coming to my party this weekend, right?” She bats her eyelashes. “I need your band Soiled Diper to play!”

“It’s Löded Diper,” you correct and she glares at you, “and when have you ever wanted us to play anywhere near you?”

“Us?” She scoffs at you. “I just want the main band, not some wannabe.”

“Woah,” Rodrick stops her. “(Y/N) is an actual part of the band, so no him, no band.”

“Him? If that’s what you wanna say, sure.” And to the untrained ear it could just be her upset that he isn’t going along to exclude you, but you know what she means. As you perk up and look in her eyes, she’s already looking at you with a knowing smirk.

She knows. FUCK how does she know?

“I’m fine with not going, Rod,” you try to sway him. This cannot be fucking happening.

“No, it’s either all of us or none of us.”

Of course now he wants to be a fucking hero right now. He doesn’t get that this is social suicide FOR ME! Social homicide? Not important right now.

“Ok,” she has that sugary sweet fake smile. “Don’t come, then. Remember what I said.”

That last part was for you, you know it, and your blood runs cold. Fuck.

The rest of the day you’re on the edge of your seat, thinking what she might do. How the fuck did she even find out? You weren’t on social media much pre-transition, so barely any photos of you before exist. And like you said, your medical records were locked up tight.

Whatever, you try to convince yourself. She won’t do anything! She would’ve already.

You make it home with no one running around talking about your biggest secret, so your anxiety has allowed you to breathe again.

You decide to finally talk to your mom about this because who else will understand?

“You’re right to be afraid, but you’re also right about her doing it when she finally found something on you.” Your mom rubs your hair as you lay in her lap.

“It’s like I can’t get into her mind and I seriously want to. Like what is she planning?” Your thoughts literally won’t shut up. You haven’t had to worry about stuff like this for close to 2 years, and now its like your whole world is about to collapse

“For her sake, I hope nothing because I’m not above beating a little girl's ass!” And you know she’s being for real. Your mom doesn’t play around.

“Mom,” you roll your eyes.

“So, she thinks you like Rodrick…What’s up with that?”

“You know the answer if you’re asking,” you sigh.

“Do you want any advice on that? I say you should go for it.” Your mom shrugs.

“Absolutely not, because if this does come out I don’t want him weirded out by me being trans and gay.” You don’t even know if you are gay gay, but you know it’d make you that if you ask him out.

“I think you’re safe, but if something does blow, I’m in your corner.” She holds up her fist playfully to show it.

“Thank you, Mom.” You finally felt at peace with the whole thing. You trust your mom and feel like it will all blow over.

If only you knew.

The next morning, you walk with a pep in your step. You decide to walk to school, texting Rodrick you didn’t need a ride. It took a little longer to walk than drive, so you knew they’d beat you there.

When you finally showed up, people were staring at you, but it didn’t bother you much. People looked at you and the gang weirdly all the time, it just happened. It was when you finally made your way inside that all hell broke loose.

Random whispers were rampant through the hall, but when you walked by it would stop. Whatever, they were probably just talking about what you were wearing like always. You shrugged and went to find the guys.

You were right in front of them in the cafeteria and about to speak when that sugary voice stopped you, “Hey, [Redacted]!” It exclaimed.

You could’ve thrown up right then and there. You whip around to face Heather, “What the hell did you just call me?”

“Should I tell her or are you guys going to be good friends?”

“Guys, what is she talking about?” You turn to them and the look on their faces say it all.

They Know. Everyone knows.

Ben turns his phone around and you have to will yourself to not spill your breakfast out onto the concrete. It’s a screenshot from one of your parents' private Facebooks from two or three years ago with a title that stated your deadname.

The “girl” in the picture was going to homecoming, and it was obvious that it was you. Your face was softer, caked with makeup, and your hair was longer. The caption had your name and said that you were indeed going to homecoming.

“This picture was private, how the fuck?” You were whispering to yourself. You’re frozen in place, you can’t look anywhere but Ben’s phone.

“How could you hide this from your friends?” Heather fake gasps. “Pretending to be a boy? Going into the boys bathroom and locker room? What a freak!” and her whole group laughs. When you didn’t respond, she kept going, “Like, can you guys believe it? She’s pretending to be a boy to get close to you, and I even heard she had a little crush on one of you!”

That made you bark out a sob. Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit holy-

“It’s crazy! Right, Rodrick?” and that snaps you out of it.

You glance at him, and he looks angry. Probably at you for lying to him. You darted away, looking for an exit because all you can think about is going home. You hear your name called after you, but you don’t care.

—

“What the hell are you doing home? Classes literally just started.” Your mom asks as she’s cuddled up with your dad. You don’t answer her, and just run up to your room, sobbing.

“Woah, woah woah, hey!” They get up to go after you.

When you get to your room, you don’t close your door knowing they’re after you. You shut your phone down and just throw yourself onto your bed, trying to stop your tears.

“Son, what’s wrong? What happened at school?” My dad knocks on the open door.

“Heather Hills,” you say through your pillow. Even if your dad didn’t get it, your mom did.

“She didn’t…”

“She did though, Mom!” You cry out, turning to face them. “She outed me to the whole school! She somehow found one of your Facebooks, got into it and found an old picture of me going to homecoming, and she shared it with the whole school!”

“Are you serious?” Your dad balls up his fist.

“Not only that, but she said that I was pretending to be a guy! Said I was doing it to get close to Rodrick, basically told him I liked him, and made me seem like this big ass weirdo!”

“We need to do something about this,” your mom says, and she sounds pissed. “This has to be some sort of harassment!”

“Your mother is right, we need to contact the school-”

“NO, please,” you start. “What’s done is done, I don’t want this bigger than it is!”

“(Y/N)!-”

“Mom, please listen to me!” You’re exasperated at this point. “Heather has the whole school behind her. Her parents are RICH, so if we try to do anything, it’ll just make everything worse!”

“I don’t give a fuck about her parents! She hurt my baby and she needs to be held accountable!”

“I don’t want to be in the middle of any more drama!” You groan. “I just want to figure this out quietly and on my own. I don’t want to talk to anyone about it and I just want to be left alone!”

“Ok, ok,” your dad sighs and puts a hand on your head. “If that’s what you want, we won’t push it,” he turns to your mom, “won’t we?”

“Yea, I guess,” she rolls her eyes, but gives a weak smile. “But at any point you need any help or she does anything else, we’re in your corner.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Get some rest, son,” your dad pats your shoulder. “You look like you need it.”

“I’ll try.”

But you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep. You avoid your phone because you didn’t want to be contacted by anyone, but especially Rodrick. You didn’t want to know his disgust with you, didn’t want to know how much he thought that Heather was right.

Without the distraction of your phone, your room and the house was too quiet. You could hear your parents downstairs, trying not to be angry about your situation and watching television. Your mind keeps replaying you looking at Ben’s phone, ears ringing in anger and worry. You’re so horrified, afraid you’ve lost all of your friends. You were supposed to graduate without anyone finding out. What was the point of a fresh start if you were just gonna have to deal with all that you wanted to avoid at your old home?

You hear someone knock on your front door, and even being that far away from it you heard Rodricks voice. This time you can’t stop your stomach from lurching and you run to the bathroom.

As you flush the toilet, you hear the door close and footsteps up the stairs. That makes you pray on the bathroom floor to anything that could hear you to not make you talk to him yet.

“Hey, baby, you alright?” Your mom’s voice fills you with relief and seems to calm your stomach.

“No,” you say truthfully. You didn’t feel like lying right now, “I feel like everything is over for me.”

“You heard him, didn’t you?”

“Not what he said, but I heard his voice,” you admit.

“Then I think you should answer your phone.” And with that, she leads you back to your room, kisses your forehead, and goes back downstairs.

—

You don’t turn your phone back on until the next day. You still felt sick, and no matter how much you tried to eat you just couldn’t. You stayed home from school and your parents didn’t argue, but they still had to go out for work. Not a full trip, but they had to go to the next town over.

You had less messages than you thought you would, but it’s still crazy. Drew, Ward, Chris, Ben, and even Bill messaged you, but you didn’t care about all of them because one name caught your eye. Rodrick.

It was four messages; are you home??, answer me!, i’m coming over. were the first three, but the last message was a video.

It starts staring at the floor, and then it’s pointed to a group of people. You can make out you, the gang, and Heather behind you. You take off running, but the recording doesn’t stop there.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Rodrick stands up and gets in Heather's face.

“What?” she laughs in disbelief.

“You heard what I said!”

“Are you seriously defending her over me? I thought you liked me?!” You can hear the fakeness in her voice.

“That was before you decided to spread lies about my friend! He has done nothing to you!” the emphasis on the “he” makes your eyes widen. “You’re gonna stop talking shit about my best friend to my face! You’re such a fake bitch! I don’t know how I ever liked you…”

“Don’t tell me you’re seriously picking her over me? You must be more homo than her to like that wannabe boy.”

“Are you fucking serious?” The rest of the guys pipe up and start to surround Heather.

“He is a guy, and if you think anything other than it, you must be stupider than I thought,” Ben steps up.

“And so what if I like him? Just know I don’t like you, not anymore.” Rodrick is the angriest you’ve ever seen him, it’s kind of hot scary.

“Whatever, you’re all just losers. Lets go,” she turns and walks off with her crew.

That’s where the video ends.

You couldn’t stop rewatching it in amazement. He had stood up to Heather Hills for you without hesitation. Had said he liked you to Heather Hills. To basically the entire school, if this video has already gone around.

You debate whether or not you wanted to talk to him, but your need for your best friend wins over your need to hide. You slip on your shoes and head out.

You live a little over 5 minutes away from Rodrick even though he drives you guys everywhere. You know you could’ve told him to come over to your house, but it’s nice to finally get some fresh air. Plus, his mom was always nice to see when you went over his house.

When you get there, you see his van parked in the driveway near the garage. You have to hype yourself up to knock on the front door, but once you do it’s like a wave of nausea comes crashing over you.

I can’t do this, oh my god. What have I-

Before you can finish your thoughts, the door opens. You half expect it to be Rodrick, but it’s just Greg.

“Hey, kid.” You do a little wave as if you haven’t met him before. Whenever you come over, you tend to see Greg and Rowley, too. Most of the time they’re just in the living room, but they sometimes come up to the attic just to get chewed out by Rodrick, especially when it’s just you two up there.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he smiles, “where’ve you been?”

“Yknow.” You wring your hands. “Around.”

You can barely get words out. Does Greg know? Did Rodrick tell his family about what his best friend is?

“Rodrick should be upstairs in his room.” Greg moves out of the way so you can step into the house. “He’s been moping up there since yesterday, I don’t even think he’s left it today.”

“He didn’t go to school?” It’s not surprising, he’s always skipping, but you know it’s because of what went down yesterday.

“Nope,” Greg shakes his head. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you guys, because he only acts like this when he can’t see you, but I think you guys will work it out. It’s like me and Rowley, just less romantical.”

“W-what-” you sputter out. “I don’t-”

“Sure, whatever you want to tell yourself.” Greg cuts you off with an eye roll. “Like I said, he’s upstairs.”

“Thanks, kid.” Your face is on fire.

And with that, you mount the stairs to the attic. Is your crush on Rodrick really that obvious that even his family can see it? And with the way Greg was talking it seems to be reciprocated. You heard it come out of Rodrick’s own mouth, but what if he just said that so Heather could leave you alone?

You’re in front of his door before you can finish your thoughts. You knock, ready to get this over with.

“Mom, I told you I’ll be ok, just leave me alone!” You hear him call out.

“Not your mom, last time I checked.” You say, a soft smile grows on your face from hearing his voice.

You hear him leap up off of his bed and trip over something, but it doesn’t seem to phase him as he runs to open the door.

“(Y/N),” he breathes out.

“Hey,” you can barely look him in the face. “Can I come in?”

“Yea, yea, come in!” He pulls you through the door.

Once in his room, it’s like you’ve never set foot in it. You don’t know what to do, where to sit. It all feels new to you for some reason.

“Dude, just sit down somewhere.” Rodrick laughs at your newfound confusion.

You decide to sit on his bed, which you do every time you come over. You and Rodrick always sit on opposite ends of the bed so you can look at each other, which this time is no different.

You just sit there, staring at each other. You decide to break the ice. “It’s true, all of it. I don’t know how Heather got that picture, but I was a girl for most of my life up until now. Please, don’t hate me.”

“I’m not going to lie, it made me mad that I had to find out through Heather Hills,” he sighs, “but then again it’s none of my business. You were doing it to protect yourself, so I get it and I don’t have a right to be mad. I could never hate you over something like that though.”

You just sit there with your mouth open. You knew subconsciously that he couldn’t have hated you, but you had grown up hearing all the hatred people had for people like you. You had no choice to be on the defense when coming over here, no matter what you heard.

“I just-” You start. “I just, I know you’re my best friend, and I should’ve trusted you with this, but I couldn’t. I’ve never had anyone but my parents know. Their families don’t even know, that’s the whole reason we moved here.”

“Would you have ever told me?” He asks, kind of quiet.

“Maybe.” You shrug honestly. “I was too worried about trying to survive high school without a slip up to think that far ahead.”

“Oh,” is all he answers.

It’s another drowning silence. You’ve never had an awkward silence in your entire friendship, this is freaking you out.

“Did you watch the video I sent you?” Rodrick speaks up.

“Yea, it was the first thing I saw when I turned my phone back on.” Another beat of silence. “It was the only reason I came over here to talk to you.”

“Did you watch the whole thing?”

“Only a hundred times,” you smile evilly. “I love watching that barbie wannabe get put in her place.”

“Yea, that was great to do,” his voice lowers, “but that’s not what I was talking about.”

“I know.” You whisper and look him in the eyes.

You just sit there staring at each other, and then Rodrick looks down at your lips. It was so quick you could’ve missed it if you blinked, but you saw it. Just go for it.

“Are you going to kiss me, or just think about it?” You try to sound confident, but it ends up a quiet squeak.

His eyes widen, but he begins to inch over to you until you’re pressed up against each other. “Is this okay?” His whisper tickles your lips.

You just nod, eyes never leaving his. You don’t know who leans in first, but your lips are together in a flash. Your grip on his shirt is tight, as if when you let go it’ll all disappear. Your mouths almost move in unison, like you’re trying to devour the other. You can barely breath, feeling like this isn’t real. You dreamed about this moment for so long and now that it’s here it’s like you’re ascending.

You are the one who pulls away first, needing to breathe. Rodrick doesn’t seem like he wants to stop, kissing down your jaw to your neck. While you're breathing softly, you hear a knock at his door. That doesn’t stop Rodrick though.

“Rodrick,” you breath out as a warning.

“Hm,” he hums indifferently. Before you both know it, his door opens.

“Rodrick, you need to leave this- OH MY GOD!” His mother screams out.

“MOM!” Rodrick jumps away from you in fear and shock.

You’re all just stuck looking at both of them staring at each other before you break the silence.

“Hey, Ms. Susan…”

After that you are put through a lecture with his mom and dad. You guys can’t be upstairs alone without Greg being a buffer, door open at all times even with the other guys there. They, of course, texted your parents about what they found so that's gonna be fun to go home to. But you felt like none of that mattered because you got what you wanted. You didn’t lose your friends, and you even gained a boyfriend.

He offers to drive you home, which you take because you want to be close to him for a little longer. So you wave goodbye to his parents and get into the van.

You hold hands on the way to your house.

—

“We’re glad you decided to come back to school,” Rodrick squeezes your hand. “It’s been so boring.”

“First of all, I was gone one day,” you roll your eyes in fake annoyance. “And second of all, you literally didn’t even go yesterday!”

“But it’s always boring whenever I don’t get to see you, baby.” He wiggles his shoulders against yours.

All the guys groan in fake disgust. “Yall are so corny, break up already.” Ben gags.

“I didn’t even say anything!” You throw your hands up, taking one of Rodricks hands with you.

“Cringe by association.” And you roll your eyes in true annoyance.

“Are you sure you’re ready to go back?” Rodrick interrupts. “We could just go back to your house and hang out for the day.”

“I’m sure you’d love that,” you shove his arm, “but if I keep skipping, it’ll be like she won. Plus I’m not losing my straight A streak because of that bimbo.”

“Fine,” he huffs. “I can’t wait for the last day, school is so boring.”

“I thought without me it was boring?” You raise an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean.” He kisses your cheek.

“Yuck,” one of the guys laughs out behind your back.

“Shut the fuck up so we can get this day over with.” You flip them off.

You’re, of course, joking because you know you couldn’t have gone through this without them. After your talk with Rodrick, you all had a group hangout and talked through all of this. They let you know the whole time that they were 100% on your side. They were your boys and you were theirs.

Maybe the rest of the year won't be hell. You got the guy, smited the girl, and even if you were outed, you had all the friends you needed with you already. You were going to be fine.

[starscabaret]

☆Meeting Yandere! Vincent ☆

pairing: yandere! Vincent x fem reader 

summary: Meeting Vinny <333

warnings: n/a 

authors note: 

Vincent had brushed into the small town a few months earlier on a contract for his engineering firm. The job paid well and he had little to no attachment anywhere so he made the move. He lived in an upscale condo about 30 minutes out from the actual town he’d be working in. Paid for by the company of course. 

He had a routine, call mom once a week, send a letter once a month, go to work every weekday, go to the gym every weekday, grocery shop on Sundays, and get a haircut every 3 weeks. Not much changed for him really unless it was necessary. 

He liked it that way, in his free time he drew, invested, and dabbled in a few books and tv. He wouldn’t call himself the happiest man alive, but he was getting by, and his mom was doing well. That’s all he ever wanted. 

Just like any other day on the job site Vincent set in his small office inside the mobile trailer going over blueprints and whatnot. That is until you came banging on the flimsy trailer door. Vincent thought the damn police were here. Lo and Behold when he opened the door there you were in pajamas, and slippers, and sleep still in your eyes. 

As soon as the door opened you spoke, “Look man, I really was nice at first and didn’t say anything but do y’all have to be so loud at 7 am? It’s waking me and my son.”

Vincent stood there deadpan he didn’t know what to reply. There was nothing he could really do to delay construction in the early hours without derailing the whole project. And normally he would have slammed the door in your face had it been anyone else. But you, you made his heart beat fast and he blanked on a response. Besides the fact that he was a man of very few words.

“Come in.” He said as he pulled you into the office like trailer.

“You seem to be the boss sir, is there anything you can do?” You said while rubbing your eyes.

“You must live in the house a few acres over, what’s your name?” He spoke low and grumbly.

“Yeah I do, it’s a family house but no one gives a shit anymore. All moved off to the big city, scared of the water. Oh, Im f/n l/n” you replied in an annoyed tone.  

“I can’t tell them to halt all work in the morning is there anything I can do instead?” He asked, wanting to remedy this. He didn’t want to upset you. You were alluring to him. This was also the most he had spoken to anyone in days.

“You come to explain to my son why you’re disrupting his sleep!” you said with irritation in your voice.

When Vincent got to your home to apologize to your son, he was met with Ben. Ben was a 3-year-old beautiful Doberman. 

Vincent was a bit relieved it was a dog and not a child, as he was already daydreaming about how he would give you your first child.

Vincent didn’t speak much or have the best social skills but he knew that his interest in you wasn’t normal. Nor did he know how to express such interest.

Good thing you found him handsome, and took interest in his quiet reserved demeanor. You had to know more, you had to dig past the surface. You were bold and willing to take charge and make the moves. You had never seen a man like him in your town before, or anywhere for that matter. 

You were happy you went and complained that morning. Who said complaining didn’t get you anywhere?

[fizzyapplecandy]

The eyes are the mirror of the soul

Based on your votes, this is the first story! The other two will come along soon.

Enjoy X

Ateez San X Fem Reader

Police detective San

Genre: Angst, Horror, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to Lovers, Mature scenes and language

Words: 7.8k

You thought breaking up with your boyfriend would be simple. After six months together, four of them showed you how much of a psychopath a person can be. However, when you saw on the news that several women died with features similar to yours, you assumed it was a coincidence. When the first letter arrived in the mail, you knew you were screwed. The cops eventually became involved with your life. One detective, Choi San, was assigned to be your personal bodyguard. He was confident you were safe, but the darkest evil always finds its way into someone's home.

"I've told you about a thousand times, stop calling me! I don't know how you manage to reach my number over and over! Just stop it!"

I hung up the phone, again, and rubbed my tired eyes. It was 2 a.m. and I was severely stressed. My ex, Jaehyun, has been calling me for about a month now, trying to get back together with me. Never in a million years did I think we would end up in this position. It was almost perfect for about two months. We met randomly in a cafe when I spilled my drink on his shirt. After apologizing profusely, he told me I could make it up to him with a date, and I did just that.

We had it good, seeing each other almost every day, texting until the sun came up, going around and exploring various places... It all came to an end when he started changing. It was like he became a completely different person. There were times when I feared he would become violent, but luckily he managed to bang up almost every surface of mine and his apartment, instead of my face.

After I gently broke up with him, he seemed fine. How wrong of me to assume something like that. I haven't had a good night's rest in a while, and it was messing with my head all the time. I work as an assistant in a private language school, so my boss and the other teachers are a bit lenient with me. I'm lucky to have support in that area, otherwise I would be jobless as well. In all of my 27 years on this planet, I've never felt this afraid.

I became paranoid after the break up. I kept seeing shadows out of my second story window, but I blamed the lack of sleep for that. The misplaced items in my flat were also blamed on that, too.

I poured myself a glass of wine and sat on my couch. The TV was on, playing some kind of sitcom. I couldn't bring myself to laugh, even when I found the jokes funny. It became too depressing so I switched around the channels.

"...this is the second victim found in a similar position as the first one a week prior. It appears it was a woman in her late twenties, with her long hair cut short, eyes gouged out. The missing hair and eyeballs are yet to be found..."

Now that was creepy. What kind of freak takes someone's eyes out? I remember Jaehyun saying the eyes are mirrors to one's soul, and mine were his favorite ones. My eye colour changes in the sun, so he loved taking pictures of my eyes when we were outside. Funny how that came to me while listening to this tragedy.

I twirled around a strand of my hair. Jaehyun always told me I should get a haircut, to make myself more mature. I loved my luscious locks, I've taken good care of them over the years.

I shook my head. Why was I thinking about this now? Maybe it was the wine affecting me. I should really stop drinking so late. With another long sign I grabbed the remote to turn the TV off when an image flashed on the screen. It was a picture of the latest victim, followed by the previous one.

My breath got caught in my throat.

The two pictured were side by side, and if I turned my head to the left I would see my graduation picture framed by the TV.

The resemblance between the three of us was astonishing. But that was only a coincidence, right? There is no way...

I shook my head and plugged the TV out of the wall. I wasn't taking any risks now. I speed-walked to my bedroom and shut the door, locking it as well.

There goes another sleepless night for me.

.

.

"Good morning Mrs Jung, how are you today?"

"Oh, good morning dear! You know me, my old bones are giving me a hard time."

I smiled at my elderly neighbour. Mrs Jung was widowed last May, but she's been a fighter ever since. I love meeting her in the morning when I pick up my mail from downstairs.

She waved at me and went out, probably to buy some more cat food for Simon.

I looked through my mail as I went up the stairs and noticed the usual. Phone bill, electricity bill, magazine subscription... I paused on the steps when I reached a black envelope. It was smooth, almost like it was made of suede. What in the world?

I ran to my apartment and threw the other bills on the counter. I ripped the top of the envelope and found a note inside.

My blood ran cold as I read the familiar handwriting.

"Dear, beloved, worshipped Y/N,

Long time no see baby! I've been missing you this whole time! But, you see, I've found a way to look into your gorgeous eyes again. It may be unconventional, but it works. Those two ladies have nothing on you though. I want you to know that.

Y/N, you're the one baby. And I believe you are going to do the right thing and submit yourself to me soon, unless you want more innocent girls to go missing.

I don't want to bore you with details, this is not why I'm writing to you.

You look amazing baby, even better than before. The view from your window is gorgeous.

You'll find a way to contact me, right? You'll make this work? You better do Y/N. If you know what's right for this world.

                                                 Yours truly, J. "

Oh my God. Oh my God!

My hands started shaking like crazy and I dropped the letter on the counter. I think I was about to pass out before I hit the wall behind me. I slowly slid down to the cold kitchen floor and covered my ears. This has been my panic response since I was a child. I tried to tune out everything to keep myself calm, but I couldn't.

This lunatic was going around murdering girls that reminded him of me? What on Earth was I supposed to do now?

I felt myself spiraling even more. There were telltale signs of a panic attack coming in. I haven't had one of those for months. I knew I had to stop it before it got even worse, so I crawled towards the freezer and got out an ice pack. The shock of the cold pack on my legs and arms brought me back to reality. It was enough for me to grab my phone and dial the police.

"Seoul Police Station, how can I help you?"

"I need to report a potential murderer."

.

.

"So, miss Y/N, this will be the agenda from now on. You will be escorted at all times, knowing the killer is infatuated with you we believe he will try to strike you down sooner rather than later. Our detectives are working on locating him, but in the meantime your life will stay the same as always. He can't notice something is off about you."

I nodded and waited for him to continue.

"It will be suspicious to have our detective in uniform trailing behind you everyday, so we have to make it look like you two know each other on a more personal level. Mr Choi is the best detective we have in our station, and he has gladly accepted the job."

I was like a broken doll at this point, only nodding and staring straight ahead.

For the past two days since my phone call, I've been in and out of the station. We've established that the letter was sent by Jaehyun, since he wasn't careful about leaving his fingerprints. He wanted everybody to know it was him. He was connected to the killings and there was a warrant for his arrest. The media wasn't notified yet, because my life would be endangered even more if they put me in the spotlight.

I was nervous about meeting this detective, who was going to become my live-in boyfriend. Officer Jung saw how nervous I was so he told me to wait in the room. He was going out to get my new boyfriend.

After a while, the door to Mr Jung's office opened. I expected him to walk in as well, but when I turned around my mouth almost hit the floor.

He was beyond gorgeous.

The man lifted his hand in a wave and smiled.

"Hi there. Y/N, right? My name is Choi San. I'm your new bodyguard of sorts."

I slowly stood up and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Yeah... I'm Y/N. My ex is the psycho killer. Sorry, that was a really bad introduction."

San chuckled and closed the door.

"I know this isn't very convenient for you, and it will probably be messy, but it's for your own good. I will try to be the best fake boyfriend I can. I'm not messy, I clean up after myself and I make a killer lasagna. So, all in all, I think we'll do just fine."

I smiled lightly and nodded.

"I guess so. I'm sorry about all of this... I kind of feel it's my fault. If I hadn't broken up with him then maybe he wouldn't have done all of this." 

San stepped closer to me and shook his head.

"Hey now, stop that. You aren't responsible for someone's bad decisions. The guy is sick in the head and who knows, maybe you would have been his first victim. It's not going to be easy, but I promise you, I will do everything in my power to protect you. You have my word Y/N."

We looked into each other's eyes and I think I stopped breathing for a second. San's gaze was intense, and I felt like he was looking right into my soul.

"I must admit, you do have pretty eyes."

I froze for a second and San noticed my rigid posture.

"Sorry, that was tasteless of me. Too soon I assume?"

I nodded slowly.

"Yeah... It's fine. Thank you."

We went back to staring at each other when the door opened again. Officer Jung walked in with a stack of papers.

"So, I take it you kiddos introduced yourselves. Now, let's go over the plan once more, shall we?"

.

.

"You can put your bag in the spare closet down the hall, it will fit all of your clothes as well. I bought you some new towels and a toothbrush for some reason, even though you probably have your own. There is a guest room across from mine, I put a mattress in there because I usually use it as a home office, so I don't have another bed. I hope that's not a problem. I guess some nights you might want to sleep in my bed, it's only fair."

San came with his things a couple of days later, ready to start this whole journey of catching my psycho killer ex. How my life became a blockbuster, I have no idea, but it is what it is. He set down his bags beside my couch and looked around.

"Nice place. I like the whole vibe, it's homey. And, Y/N, you do realise we have to sleep together?"

My eyes widened just as his did.

"No, no. I didn't mean it like that. Sorry. We have to sleep in the same bed, together. That's what I meant."

I nodded and waved him off.

"Yeah, yeah, I got that. But why?"

I was a bit nervous to share a bed with a complete stranger. After everything happened with Jaehyun, finding another man wasn't on my agenda. I suppose this was a completely different situation.

"I have to be next to you to make sure you are safe. Besides that, we have to be convincing. If he is watching you, he will notice my absence in normal, relationship things, so we have to make sure it looks like the real deal. I'm sorry, hopefully it won't last long. My sole purpose is to make sure you are safe, and that bastard gets locked up in the end."

I nodded in understanding. I knew San was right, so I had to suck it up and share a bed with him.

"Okay, but I'm on the left side because I've always slept there, no negotiation."

He chuckled and picked up his bags.

"No problem, I prefer the right side actually. I'm gonna go put these away and then we can sit and talk this through one more time."

"Do you want some coffee? Or tea?"

"Coffee would be great, thanks."

I went to make us two cups of coffee while he unpacked his stuff. After I poured us some much needed caffeine, I put the cups on the living room table and sat on the couch. I always have a blanket draped over the seats, so I pulled it over my legs. I could hear him rummaging around, and after about 15 minutes he joined me on the couch.

San was an attractive man, that much I could notice. He had this calm aura around him, which made me wonder how he got into this world of crime and murders.

"You know, if you want to ask me something, you can. I can feel you staring at me."

Good God. My cheeks flared up and I took a sip of my coffee to collect myself.

"Sorry. It's a bad habit. I was just wondering... How come you decided to be a detective? I assume this job can't bring you any good memories. I work as a teacher's assistant. The job brought me more joy than anything else in the world. I can't imagine..."

San could tell I was struggling to come up with a way to ask him about his job, so he stepped in to help.

"Hey, I get it. This line of work isn't for everybody. You see horrible things, but at the same time, you are the one stopping them from happening. My dad used to be a cop in our small town, but then he got shot. Drug arrest gone wrong. His shoulder never recovered, so he had to retire. He owns a taekwondo studio now. I trained there before I went to the academy. I think part of me does this job because of him. I never imagined they would promote me to be a detective, but I've always had a knack for solving the unsolvable. So, here I am now."

Impressive. San looked about my age, so becoming a detective this young had to be a huge accomplishment in his life.

"That's... Wow. Good for you. But how do you handle all of this?"

He took a sip of his coffee before answering.

"I guess you get used to it. We are trained by a psychiatrist on how to handle these tough situations. Yes, we solve cases and save people, but there comes a time when you can't be faster than your enemy. These killers and stalkers are smart, at times smarter than us. You have to calculate their steps even better than they do. Thinking one step ahead has saved so many people. Other times, it goes to show that we are still human, and we can't predict every step they take."

I shivered and pulled my legs closer to my chest. Is he saying that as a warning? That maybe...

"Hey now, I can feel you overthinking. We've got this in the bag. That bastard won't take a single step into this apartment. Not one step close to you. I won't allow it Y/N. You're safe with me."

I looked at San and took a deep breath. The determination on his face was unmistakable. He wanted Jaehyun to be locked up, and so did I.

"Thank you, San. I know that, and I do trust you. It's just hard. I never imagined myself in this situation. And those poor women... I can't help feeling a bit guilty."

He shook his head and put his cup on the table, turning towards me fully.

"You can't be responsible for someone's actions. This is solely his doing. He didn't have to do this, but he chose to. You can't read his mind, and you can't predict these things. He's a lunatic, and you are lucky you escaped on time. Let me tell you something about his character. He's doing this without thinking it through. That's good for us because we can gather evidence to lock him up for good once he's caught. It seems like he wants to be caught, but he has to get to you before that. This is where I come in. Once he's vulnerable, he's mine and no one else's."

"Do you think... He wants me dead?"

San sighed and took one of my hands in his. My eyes widened slightly, but I didn't pull away. It felt nice. His touch was warm, and it felt sincere.

"He wants you, that much is fact. I don't think he particularly wants you dead, but he isn't sane enough to make that decision. He may want you beside him, but one rash move and you're gone. I'm telling you again, that won't happen, and I want you to try not to think in that direction."

He gently squeezed my hand before letting go. He stood up and stretched. His white shirt went up and I could see the outline of his hard abs. The man was going to be the death of me if I continued slobbering over him like this.

"I'm gonna go take a shower, you put on a cartoon to pump up your mood a bit. I know The Powerpuff Girls are on Channel Three. Don't ask how I know that, it's embarrassing."

I could see his cheeks becoming a bit pink and he all but ran to the bathroom.

Tough detective San watching the Powerpuff Girls? I bet Bubbles is his favorite.

With a laugh, I turned on the TV to search for Channel Three, but I was abruptly cut off by the News Station. I wish I wasn't.

"...the body was found behind a bar, eyes gauged out like the previous two victims. Everything points to the same perpetrator. Police are on the scene, carefully directing people away from the alley. This is the third woman found in a month, and the killer left a message next to her. In what we assume was the victim's blood, there was the number '12' hastily written on the pavement..."

Twelve. As the number on my apartment door.

"Hey Y/N, where did you say the towels were? In the closet or..."

San stopped talking when he saw my frightened expression, the grip on my TV remote and my wide eyes. He looked at the TV and realised what was going on. He walked up to me, turned the TV off and pulled me up.

"Y/N, listen to me carefully. Go into your bedroom and find me a blue hair clip. Do you have something like that?"

I nodded. A blue hair clip? What does he want with that?

"Okay, can you answer me in words?"

"I... Yes. I have one."

"Good girl. Now, go find it."

I felt like my body went into autopilot. I rushed to my bedroom and sat by my vanity. I could see my expression in the big mirror. I looked terrified. But I couldn't dwell on that too much, because I had to find the hair clip. After rummaging around my bags, I pulled out a tiny blue butterfly clip. I forgot I had this, it must be ancient. I felt relieved as I stood up to go take it to San.

Just as I turned around I saw him leaning on the doorframe of my bedroom.

"Feeling better now?"

Huh? I guess I do feel...

"Wait. This was some kind of tactic?"

He smiled and nodded.

"I had to distract you. It's best to put a person into a completely different situation so that your brain focuses on something else. I don't know why I came up with the hair clip, but I had to think of something. You were going into a panic attack it seems?"

I reached out my hand and placed the clip into his open palm. He twirled it around while looking at me.

"Yeah... Ever since this whole thing started they've been coming and going. I can manage them sometimes, but this one was tough. He wrote my apartment number next to that poor woman, San. He's insane."

San put the clip in his jean pocket and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"Y/N, we're going to get him, I promise. Please, go get some rest. I'm gonna take that shower now and I'll be in bed soon. Make yourself comfortable, and leave the right side free, will you?"

I chuckled and nodded.

"I sleep on the left, remember?"

.

.

"So this lock has a code system, and it has to have four digits. Think of something you won't forget easily, but at the same time, it has to be something Jaehyun doesn't know."

San was installing my new lock, and I was trying to be helpful by holding the flashlight over his head. Last night was... Interesting to say the least. I knocked out before he came out of the bathroom, so I spared myself of the embarrassment of our first night together. However, when I opened my eyes in the morning, I could feel his arm draped around my stomach, holding me. I wiggled out quietly and kept silent when he asked me if everything was okay during the night.

I didn't want to make him heel awkward, I could do that for the both of us.

After breakfast, we went down to a hardware store to buy another lock and key. San already had the security system, so we've been at it for some time now.

"When is your birthday?"

He turned towards me and quirked an eyebrow.

"My birthday?"

I nodded and turned off the flashlight.

"That's something he won't know for sure. I mean, he doesn't even know your name so it's the only logical option."

"You think you'll remember it?" He smirked and stood up. He towered over me, and in the small hallway space, I felt like he was a step away from pushing me against the wall.

"If my life depends on it, I think I will."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked into his eyes. We stared at each other for some time before his phone rang.

"I have to take that, you punch in the code three times. It's 1007."

With that, he looked me up and down again before disappearing into the bedroom to take the call.

I felt like I could breathe again. After entering the code, I locked the door and went into the kitchen for some water. San was taking a long time with the call, so I assumed it was important. Judging by his expression when he came out, it only confirmed my suspicion.

"That was officer Jung. I need to go down to the station. Jaehyun left a message in front of the station. I think he's onto us, but I could be wrong. It may be a warning to the police."

He looked at the floor and took a deep breath.

"Well... What did he leave? Was it like the letter he sent me? Did he do something like that?"

"Ah... I don't think you want to know."

I pushed myself to walk right in front of him.

"Tell me. I need to know."

San looked into my eyes, an apologetic expression marring his face.

"He sent them a pair of eyeballs. They don't know if it's another victim, or one of the older ones. He said the eyes weren't of use to him anymore, but he wanted to keep the rest for now."

I think I'm about to puke my lunch out. I closed my eyes and put my hands over my ears. This was not the time for a panic attack. Before long, I felt San's hands go over mine. The additional weight brought me a sense of relief. I opened my eyes to look into his concerned ones.

"Don't worry, you don't have to make me look for blue hair clips, I've got this one." He smiled and put his hands down.

"So I assume they want you to look into it?" He nodded.

"Yeah. Are you okay with being alone? I know the sun is about to set, but I'll try not to take long."

"It's fine. This is your job after all. Go, the faster you leave, the quicker you'll come back." With a final nod, he went to the door, put on a jacket and his shoes and turned towards me.

"Be safe. I'll call you when I'm on the way back." I waved him off.

"Yeah, yeah. Go be a detective." He smiled and out he went.

It was a bit creepy after he left. I couldn't shake off the weird feeling of being watched, but I knew I was safe in my newly equipped apartment. I noticed the stack of papers on my kitchen counter. I haven't looked into my mail all day. San was the one who brought it up, but we didn't go through it since his hands were already full.

I sorted out my bills and pamphlets when I reached another black, almost suede, envelope.

This has to be a joke.

With a sigh, I opened up the second letter.

"My dear Y/N,

I'm a bit angry with you. We are separated for only a month, and now someone is moving in with you? Are you that desperate? He isn't even that handsome, but I couldn't really tell. He better watch out though. I don't like sharing what's mine.

I can't wait to be with you again baby. I've missed looking into your eyes terribly. Those other ladies don't stand a chance against you.

Why don't you write me back? You know my address. It's true that I don't spend time there anymore, but I'll check for your response for sure.

Take care baby, we'll meet again soon.

                                                                With love, J."

.

.

"So we know he is lurking around the neighborhood, but we can't tell his exact location. He's moving around too much, but the bastard knows how to hide."

Officer Jung was a man in his late forties, married for twenty years with a son and daughter. He's been in the police force since he was twenty-one, but he's never had a case like this. Jaehyun was a dirty bastard, and he was as sly as a snake. He was giving them a hard time, but there wasn't a crime Officer Jung wasn't able to solve.

San admired his determination. He was like a role model to him, as his parents live in the countryside and he doesn't see them as often. It seems like this case was affecting Mr Jung more than any other. San could say the same thing. In the small amount of time he's spent with you, he could tell you were a lovely person. You just had this spark following you, a pep in your step without even noticing, and your eyes were truly incredible. He was afraid of getting attached to you too soon, but he couldn't stop it even if he tried.

"Y/N called me. He's left another letter for her. He knows I'm with her. He's directly threatening me, but he doesn't seem to know I'm working for the police."

Officer Jung nodded.

"That's good. We'll keep it that way. That poor girl must be frightened. You're free to go, son. Go take care of Miss Y/N. I assume you two have become acquainted?" He had a small smirk, and a suggestive wink told San all he needed to know.

"Officer, with all due respect, we aren't in an ideal situation to be talking like that. I'm doing everything I can to make Y/N feel at ease, but it doesn't seem to be working."

"I get that boy, but you have to understand the poor lady. She's a direct target. Go home and make sure she knows we're catching this bastard."

San shook hands with Mr Jung and made his way outside to his car. The Sun had set an hour ago and he knew Y/N was probably wondering where he was.

Never has he felt such a strong attraction towards someone as he does with her. From the moment he laid eyes on her he knew he was screwed. Now he was terrified of what could happen. Without taking his eyes off the road he dialed her number. After two rings her angelic voice answered.

"Hey San. Are you coming back?" I'm speeding back, doll.

He held it in and replied calmly.

"Yeah, sorry about that. We had to have a meeting. But I'm gonna be there in about 15 minutes, so hold on tight. You did a good job today, staying alone." She chuckled, and it made San smile.

"Well I didn't have much of a choice. I cooked dinner in the meantime. I heard you make a killer lasagna? Well, I think you might have some competition buddy."

"We'll see about that. Do you need me to pick up anything on the way?"

"No! I mean... No. Just come home, I'm at my maximum here."

Home. He hasn't heard that one in a while. It sounded nice coming from her.

"Don't worry, I'm coming as fast as I can. Cut me the biggest piece of lasagna you can." Y/N chuckled and cleared her throat.

"Coming right up sir!" She hung up the phone without knowing how much of an impact her simple words had on San.

Boy, was he in trouble.

.

.

A week has passed by without trouble. No new murders on the news, no letters, no calls from the station. Everything seemed to be going just fine.

Except the sheet amount of sexual tension between herself and San.

It was undeniable. Every time he passed by her in the kitchen to grab something he would put his hand on her hip. When she walked into the bathroom, he was just about to exit, towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping down his hard chest. The heat was on as the weather got colder, and she was walking around in tiny shorts which made San blush every time she bent down to pick something up.

The fleeting glances, the not so subtle touches, the rosy cheeks every time they are beside each other in bed... It all came to a culmination one Saturday morning.

San was always looking for something to hug while he slept. After your first night together you brought a pillow for him to embrace. This time, neither one of you even thought about bringing that stupid pillow to bed.

During the night, you two naturally gravitate towards each other. In the morning, while the sun tried to pry its way into the room through your blinds, San had his arms wrapped around you from behind. You woke up first, feeling hot all over. Your thin shorts weren't a big enough barrier between your ass and his rock hard length.

You were at an impasse. Do you wiggle out of bed and pretend like nothing happened, or, do you let yourself be caught in his embrace and finally give into the desire you two feel for each other? It seems like San was ready to answer the question for you.

You could feel his strong arms tightening around your mid section, his big palm caressing your stomach. You could hear him letting out a big sigh.

"Y/N... Are you awake?"

You could never get enough of his morning voice.

"Yeah..."

"Y/N, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but... If you don't stop moving around I won't be able to control myself."

Without answering, you slowly moved your hips over his hard-on. San grunted and you were on your back in a second. He was hovering above you, his angelic face illuminated by the morning light.

"You're really asking for trouble, you know?" You lifted your brow.

"Me? You're the one running your hands all over me." He laughed and laid his head on your chest, putting his arms around you again. He was like a big cat, invading your space with his warmth.

"You're going to get me in so much trouble." His voice was a bit muffled with his face squashed between your breasts.

"Hey, you're the one feeling me up."

"I told you I can't control that! Besides, you are too soft to resist."

"So what are we going to do about that?"

He lifted his head and placed his chin on my chest before looking into my eyes. I could see him contemplating.

"Listen, I think we are both on the same page here. However, my priority right now is your safety. Maybe when this is all over, we could go on an actual date? I think that would be nice, you know?"

He wants to take me out?

"Really? You want to go on a date with me?"

"And why is that so hard to believe?" I shrugged and started playing with his hair. He looked like he would melt in a second.

"I don't know, it's all so messed up. Maybe you don't want anything to do with me after this is over."

"That's not going to happen. I like you, Y/N. I want you, it's ridiculous how much. I just don't want to compromise your safety for my selfish desires." I nodded and placed a gentle kiss on his head. His blinked and pulled himself up on his forearms.

"You know, maybe we could break my rules, just this once." My brow furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

San smiled and got closer, our noses almost touching.

"Say, Y/N... Have you ever made out with a police officer?"

I giggled. "No, I can't say I did. Why?"

"Well... Would you want to?"

I bit my lip and nodded. Why the hell not?

"Good to know."

And just like that, his lips were on mine.

The kiss was more passionate than I could have expected. San was going slow, but as time went by, we picked up the pace. Our hands were exploring every inch of our bodies. My legs were firm around his waist, with his tangled in my hair.

We rolled around the bed, laughing in between kisses. After what felt like an hour, or more, we finally stopped to catch our breaths.

"That was... Wow." I laughed again.

"Yeah, wow. But San..." He turned to look at me.

"What's wrong?"

"I thought you were a detective, not an officer?"

"Oh, yeah... Well, you just made out with a police detective. You can cross it on your bucket list."

I couldn't help the giggles, and San joined me. We naturally gravitated towards each other again and, soon enough, we got lost in each other's lips.

What we didn't know at the time was that a pair of dark eyes was watching everything from the building across the street.

.

.

The morning went by quickly. San and I didn't leave the bed for a good two hours, rolling around, laughing, talking, kissing... There was so much kissing it kind of makes me dizzy thinking about it.

When we finally decided to get up, we got a call from officer Jung. He was concerned about the silence on Jaehyun's end, but they didn't have anything new on him. I could see it was affecting San, but he tried acting tough in front of me. After the call ended, we decided to lounge around all day.

By nine o'clock, we were hungry and exhausted from all of the kissing we were doing.

"I don't feel like cooking really. I think I want to melt into this couch if I'm being honest." San chuckled and kissed my forehead.

"I get you, but we do have to eat. Do you want me to go to that pizza place down the street? We can order and I can pick it up. I know the delivery driver creeps you out."

I shivered a bit. "Yeah, he always tries to look down my top. You wouldn't mind doing that?"

He caressed my cheek before pinching it.

"For you? Not at all. Let me call them and I'll be on my way."

After placing the order, San put on his jacket and shoes and kissed me again.

"I will never get enough of this." I smiled and gave him another peck.

"Nor will I. Go now before I starve."

He laughed and went out. He didn't bring his car keys, but I knew there was no need, as the place was literally down the street. I heard the lock click and I pushed the button to activate the alarm. Funny, it always glows red when it's on, but now it wasn't shining. Maybe the batteries weren't good anymore? I'll have to tell San when he comes back.

I went into the kitchen to take out some plates and cups. I looked around for candles to make it more romantic, but only found one.

"Guess this will do."

After setting everything up on my living room table I went to my bedroom to put on something nice. I know I don't have to try, but I felt like San deserved it.

I was about to pull my shirt over my head when I heard the door clicking. It's been about ten minutes since San left, he couldn't be back so soon?

"San? Is that you?"

There was no response to my question. It was eerily silent.

I was just about to turn around when I saw him.

The reflection in my vanity mirror.

"Hey there baby. How have you been?"

"Jaehyun?"

.

.

San was practically skipping towards the pizza joint down the street. His day couldn't be any better. Not only did he kiss the most beautiful woman in the world, he was certain she felt the same as he did about their connection. When this whole mess becomes history, he will take her on the best date of her life. She deserved nothing less.

Once he reached the family owned business, he told them his name and order number and they quickly packed it up for him.

He must have been gone for about 20 minutes when his phone rang in his pocket.

"Officer Jung? Is everything okay?"

Why was the old man calling him on a Saturday night?

"San! My boy! We have a big problem! Where are you? Is Y/N there?"

"Woah, hold up. She's not with me, I left her at home to pick up our dinner? What's going on?" Mr Jung was awfully quiet on the other end.

"Mr Jung?"

"San... You need to run back as fast as you can. He called the station, he's going to do something to her tonight. I've already sent out a patrole, they are coming as fast as they can. There was an accident on the bridge tonight, they have go take a detour. San, my boy, run and save the poor girl."

San's blood ran cold instantly. How could he have been so foolish? He left her, all alone, with a serial killer out to get her. He threw away the pizza box and sprinted down the street.

He could only pray go get there before something terrible happened.

.

.

"Jaehyun... Please... You don't want to do this."

He stepped into the room and closed the door.

"Do what baby? I'm here to take what's mine. Do you know how hard it was watching you with that loser? He even made you change your locks so I couldn't get in! But I found a way, I always do!"

He kept stalking towards me until I was backed up against my vanity table.

"Do you have any idea how much I've missed your eyes baby? Your beautiful, warm, stunning eyes..."

"Please, I don't want to die."

He put his hands on my cheeks.

"No, no, no... Baby, don't worry about that. I mean you have to die, but not yet. I have to make up for lost time, you know?"

I slowly grabbed my eyeliner pencil from the table, trying to be as discreet as possible.

"Yeah, I think I get it... How do you want to make up for it?"

He seemed to lighten up at my fake enthusiasm, and he put his hands down, but he didn't step away.

"I knew you'd come around baby. Well, we have all night to decide once you come with me. We can't do anything here, your bed is filthy from that idiot sleeping in it."

Just as he was about to kiss me, I jammed the pencil into his eyeball.

He screamed and I pushed him out of my way, running towards the door.

"You bitch! I'm gonna fucking kill you! Oh, you're in for it now Y/N!"

I opened the bedroom door and I almost made it to the front of my apartment before he tackled me to the ground.

"Not so fast you slut. You think you can run away from me? Think again, you bitch."

I struggled underneath his weight, trying to push him off with my legs. He was too strong for me.

"Let me go, please! Please, you don't want to do this!"

"Shut up!" He smacked me right across the mouth, and I could taste blood on my lips.

In the midst of my struggle, San appeared before my eyes. Poor San... He was going to be devastated.

I was about to give up when I heard the sound of my door being broken down.

"Well, well... Isn't that the bastard himself?"

"Get the fuck of off her before I put a bullet between your eyes."

I looked up and I couldn't help but fear the expression on San's face. He looked dark, and the gun in his hands wasn't helping.

Suddenly, Jaehyun pulled me up and put his arm around my midsection. He had a pocket knife in his other hands, aimed straight at my throat.

"Listen up pretty boy. One wrong move and her blood will be all over the walls. You know what I hate about you bastards? You come in in the worst possible moments. We were just about to run away and have the time of our lives, isn't that right baby?"

He caressed my throat with the knife and I could see San struggling to keep himself composed. He cleared his throat.

"You think I care about her? I'm just a detective waiting to put cuffs on your hands boy, nothing else. This was all an act, and you fell for it easily. Honestly, you call yourself a killer? Pathetic."

I knew San didn't mean any of those words, but it hurt hearing him say them out loud.

"Jaehyun, baby... You need to let me go. I made a mistake in the bedroom, that wasn't nice of me. But I got scared, you know? Please baby..." San was looking into my eyes as I started pleading with Jaehyun.

My ex was slowly loosing his grip on me. I could hear his breathing becoming laboured.

"You really mean that baby? Wanna come with me now?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, yes. I'll come with you."

He slowly lowered the knife, but he stopped suddenly.

"You think I'm that stupid you bitch? You're gonna get it now, and Loverboy will have front row tickets."

I closed my eyes waiting for him to push the knife into my throat when a loud bang rang through my ears.

A bullet whizzed past my ear and right into Jaehyun's head.

If San didn't grab me I would have gone to the ground along with Jaehyun.

I let out a yelp.

Everything went dark for a moment.

"Y/N! Come on baby girl, come back to me."

I opened my eyes and stared straight into San's. I could see my living room ceiling. We were still inside?

"What happened?"

He sighed in relief. "You scared the hell out of me."

He pulled me up into a hug and that's when I saw it.

Jaehyun's lifeless body sprawled all over my living room floor.

"Oh my God... San... Is he?"

"Yeah, he is. I'm sorry Y/N, but he was about to stab you. I couldn't let that happen." I looked up at San and threw my arms around him. I squeezed his shoulders like my life depended on it.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. You kept me safe. You did it."

I could feel him caressing my hair and kissing the top on my head.

"Always baby girl, I'd do anything for you."

We could hear the sirens finally blasting from outside. In no time, my apartment was full of police officers, AMTs and a forensic unit. They had to take care of Jaehyun's body.

Officer Jung walked in as well.

"Y/N! San, my boy! Oh thank God!" He threw his arms around us.

"Hey Mr Jung..." He jabbed San in the forehead.

"Thank God you were one of the best shooters in your class. Nobody could have pulled this off besides you. I'm proud of you."

Mr Jung helped us stand up and took us outside of the building. San didn't want to leave my side even when another policeman came to take out statements.

Soon enough, we were sitting on the steps of my building, a blanket around our shoulders. We watched as a black van drove away with Jaehyun's body inside. It felt surreal.

"You know everything is going to be okay now, right?"

I looked at him and admired his manly features. I nodded.

"I know... I have you by my side now, if we are still on for that date?"

San smiled and kissed my forehead.

"Hell yes we are."

[ofallthingsnasty]

after hours

Pairing: Dog!Hybrid x F!Reader Tags:  teratophilia, smut, slice of life, established relationship, knotting, creampie, slight domination loss, (unexpected) piss marking, smidge of possessive behavior, reader wears glasses, minors dni Word count: 2.7k Summary: Your hybrid knows how to make your evenings better, although he can get a little overeager sometimes.

Note: This was an attempt at writing a simple pwp in a short-ish amount of time. I managed to do just that and am really happy with that! It might not be the most polished, but it was still fun. I hope you enjoy and requests are open!

Coming home after a long day of work tastes sweet. There is nothing like slipping off your fancy shoes to feel the floor through the fabric of your socks with aching feet, nothing like turning on all the cozy lights in your apartment and taking a hot shower to wash away the sweat and dust of the day. It’s the thought that makes the way home bearable, that makes you hurry to catch the earliest train home, even. You rarely - if ever, really - come home without being utterly exhausted from fluorescent lights and endless phone calls, craving the comfort of your own home. But by far the sweetest of it all is the welcome your hybrid gives you every single day. Mind stretched thin like gossamer and eyes prickling with exhaustion, you heave yourself up the very last flight of stairs to your apartment, eager to spend the rest of the night on your couch, enjoying a home-cooked meal and the company of your handsome puppy. It’s all you crave at the moment.

Finally reaching your apartment, your key barely turns in the lock before the door flies open already and you almost fall into a pair of strong arms. “You’re home!”, Hunter bellows and swarms around you, busy hands plucking at your lunch bag and your coat, happy to help to get you into your shared home. He stands tall above you, shaggy hair (god, does he need a new haircut already?) disheveled and tail wagging itself into a frenzy. You watch it go left to right and left again, disappearing for a fraction of a section behind his back until it pops up on the other side, white-tipped and bushy. He isn’t the most delicate - your keys land on the floor with a distinct ‘clink’ as he almost rips the sleeve of your coat over your dominant hand, his thick fingers come on a little too strong while he peels you out of your scarf, leaving your blouse ruffled and almost knocking your glasses off your nose. He’s overexcited, as always - but behind his clumsy, rushed movements lies love and the desire to spend as much time as possible with you. He is your first and only hybrid - adopted after being given up due to the cost of his care by his previous owners. He can be needy at times, but he’s always sweet - you couldn’t have asked for anyone better. Cooking, cleaning, companionship - he offers all you’ve ever needed in exchange for a loving home and your heart. Hunter is the biggest, most adorable goof and you love him with every fiber of your being. “Did you have a good day at work? Got much done?”, he blabbers while hanging up your coat and plucking the keys off the floor, tail still showing his excitement. “Did you check out that bakery you wanted to go to for lunch?” You smile at his antics, at the way the words gush out of him while he busies himself with puttering about. “Today was good, I think”, you grin, fumbling to keep the lunch bag he is trying to take from you. “I even got you something!” His movements immediately stop and his ears perk up in wonder, dark eyes sparkling. 

“Really? What is it?” Pulling a wrinkled little paper bag from the cotton, you swing it around, soaking in the joy that emanates from him. “Something for dessert.” The hug you’re promptly tackled into squeezes the air from your lungs. Swaying under his massive weight, you laugh, the exhaustion of the day swept away with the gesture. “Thank you, thank you, thank you-”, he starts but the rest of his gratitude gets swallowed up by kisses pressed to your cheek. You let him hold you for a bit, savoring the feeling of his warm body against yours, his comforting scent. There is nothing purer than watching him get so pumped over something so small, how the littlest things amaze and charm him. You’re truly lucky to have him in your life, to be able to come home to him every single night. At this point you can’t quite remember what it was like without him - and you don’t wish to.

He only pulls away after you nudge him a little, promptly going back to busying himself with getting you settled, even whines when you don’t let him untie your shoes but goes back to his busy contentment when you scratch him behind his floppy ears, a smile on your face. “I can do that myself, puppy”, you say. And you do just that. With your feet in cozy slippers and your tired arms two bags lighter, you stretch and put your nose up into the air as a rich scent wafts into the hallway, hearty and warm. You inhale deeply, stomach growling in anticipation. “What are you cooking, puppy?” His whole face lights up at the acknowledgement and he beams at you. “Lasagna. After your recipe.” “Oh, wow. You spoil me. When’s dinner?” You swear he couldn’t look happier than he does right now, though his brows furrow just a second later. He clears his throat and his ears flatten with nervousness, the change almost jarring. You only shoot him a questioning look - clumsy as he is, he often breaks things around the apartment. And as docile as he is, he usually thinks you’ll be awfully mad at him, resulting in him beating around the bush until you grow impatient. “Can we- first, can we-”, he starts, voice almost whiny. Whatever he has planned on saying - he doesn’t finish it, instead interrupts himself with a desperate whimper and presses your hand to his crotch with big, pleading eyes. “Oh–”, you gasp softly at the rough feeling of taut jeans under your fingertips. He’s unmistakably hard through the fabric.

You can’t say you’re surprised at this outcome, either. It’s an almost daily occurrence with him, at this point - whether it’s because his libido is just that high or it’s his way of showing you how much he loves you and you him, most days end with you sore from his knot.

“Hunter!”, you laugh out in fake offense, his name on your tongue making him shudder. “Please, please, can we?”, he stutters out, cheeks slowly turning red under your cryptic smile.

You had been aware of hybrids and their particular needs when you first brought Hunter home - for some people, it was the main reason to get them, even - but you didn’t expect him to be that needy. Not that you mind - but never in a million years had you thought you’d be the type to go to work with bite marks and still leaking his cum from last night, barely able to sit. There is no shame in it, of course. You pride yourself in being a good caretaker. He takes your silence as an agreement and pulls you close, eyes already glassy with need. “I’m still sweaty from work- oh-”, you protest - or at least try to, as he’s already fiddling with the buttons on your outfit. “Don’t mind”, he mumbles and then bends down to bury his face in your neck to demonstrate just how much he doesn’t. “You smell better like this anyway” As if to prove himself to you, he sniffs your skin just below your jaw and the sudden flow of air tickles so much it makes the hair on your arms stand up. Humming against your neck, he begins to bite and tease your pulse point until you shiver under his ministrations, your very last bit of resolve melting away. Still, the faint smell of your dinner tickles at the back of your mind. “What about dinner? Isn’t it still in the oven?”, you breathe out. Your hybrid’s needs or not, you aren’t keen on burning your apartment down in a fit of carelessness. “No”, he hums into your skin, then licks it, his tongue rough and hard, pushing itself right into you. “Haven’t put it in yet.” You can’t help but chuckle at that - beneath the facade of a loyal, clumsy hybrid hides a little schemer. “Alright, alright.”

Now with your agreement he’s desperate to strip you down, almost rips the buttons off your shirt until gently push his hands away and open it yourself. The moment your bra is revealed to him he groans and grabs your breasts, kneading them through the fabric. You have no doubts that he’d fuck you right here on the floor until your knees ached if you were to let him, especially as his nipping at your neck turns into biting, teeth sharp enough to sting. When he starts to pull at your pants, you intervene. “C’mon, let’s get on the sofa at least, puppy”, you say, a sentence you’ve used more than two dozen times by now - it’s not your preferred spot by any means, but too many days has he gotten too excited and fucked you on the rug in the hallway, much to the chagrin of your knees.

He whines with impatience but is easily placated with a peck to his cheek and you pull him to the living room. You can barely let go of his hand and reach for a blanket - he all but pummels you onto the couch, back hitting the cushions with a dull thud.

“Puppy-!”, you gasp, a clear warning. “Careful.” Hunter nods eagerly but his gaze is still stupefied, his mind clearly somewhere else.

Grabbing you by your hips, he flips you over as if you weigh nothing, fingers threading themselves into the soft fat of your belly. You land, face down, in soft cotton.

Another shocked puppy, no! spills from your lips as your head gets pressed into the decorative pillows, your plastic flames creaking in protest under the pressure. “My glasses!” And this time, he listens. He’s off you in a second and you turn to your left, world now slightly smudged.

“Sorry, sorry”, he whines behind you, genuinely apologetic. “Forgot about them- ” Reaching for the frames, you pluck them off your nose and blindly throw them on the coffee table, a task severely hindered by the dozens of little kisses and licks he’s peppering all over your back as an apology, his touch almost tickling you.

To his credit, he waits for your nod to continue, his eyes sparkling when you smile at him over your shoulder. He eagerly goes back to making quick work of your pants, tearing them off your legs in a matter of seconds. One final snap and the elastic of your panties is pulled down to your knees, your cunt finally exposed to him. Hunter does little to prepare you - too desperate to fuck you, he just spreads you with both hands and licks one rough stripe over your pussy, whining when the sensation makes you tremble. The rustle of fabric is your only indicator for what is about to come: he hastily shoves his own pants down and rubs his cock against you in all of its entirety, slipping between your lips and making you tense with anticipation. Your cunt aches for him, just as much as it did the first time - and his desire and love for you makes quick of your arousal, as always. You both moan as when he finally enters you, the feeling unlike anything else. He reaches deep in this position and although not over average length, he’s so thick you almost feel impaled. Wasting no time, he immediately sets a pace so fast that it leaves you drooling. It’s uncoordinated and a little clumsy - his grip on your hips loosens and slips and he switches over to supporting himself on the couch instead, with his stomach touching your back. The feeling of his warm, sweaty skin on yours, his teeth in your shoulder and groans in your ear is enough to make you forget about the world around you. He almost moves you off the couch with the power of his thrusts, sheer instinct taking over. You’re only able to brace yourself against the impact by burrowing your face into the soft material, wailing just as loud as he does every time he slams into you. He’s eager like this, eager as always. Relentlessly chasing his own relief, he works you well  - his cock moving in and out of you feels like some kind of sweet, almost stinging pain. The sensation builds with every push, with every nibble of his teeth on the delicate skin of your shoulder. You let yourself fall into it for a good while, nothing on your mind aside from the way your bodies connect with each other, how he fucks you silly. It doesn’t take him long to swell inside of you - as impatient as he is outside of the bedroom, he is in bed, after all - and his anatomy betrays him. “Careful with the knot”, you groan, trying to lower yourself onto the couch again. You’re all too familiar with it and know how to make it tolerable at this point.

He listens, even if only half-heartedly, and obediently follows your hips with his, trying to maintain his speed all the while. Not a heartbeat later Hunter moans and pushes himself as far as possible into you, reaching his peak with bared teeth and a growl. Shooting his load deep into you, the feeling of him filling you is enough to push you over the edge as well. You pant and gasp while he lets out an almost high-pitched moan in response, happy to have you fucked stupid on his cock. “I need to- I need to-”, he whines while his knot inflates - it stretches you beyond your capacity and you hiss in discomfort. The burn is almost unbearable but you breathe through it, wait until the pain turns into pleasure. “What do you need? Use your words-”, you can barely press the command out, too focused on the feeling of being unnaturally full of him. It comes out harsher than expected, but he doesn’t seem to mind, gasping at your guttural voice. “Please, I- I need to mark you-”, he grunts, running a sweaty hand over your back. “Need to show everyone that you’re mine.” Before you can ask him to elaborate, he chokes behind you as if overcome with something, then his muscles go slack. It’s hot and wet as it fills you - you can’t help the way your cunt flutters around his knot at the feeling. Still high on your own orgasm, the sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt - but even through your hazy mind you realize that he isn’t cumming a second time - he’s pissing inside of you. “Puppy, no!”, you cry out, genuinely shocked but too tired to scramble away from him - not that it would help you, knotted as you are. He ignores your words, simply continuing to relieve himself, his full weight on top of you.

You can only take it - and the initial surprise melts into a little sting of humiliation, a sudden realization that even though you are the one in charge he can easily hold you down and have his way with you. It’s weirdly intoxicating, to feel so powerless, so small when you should be anything but. He might not have done it to dominate you, but that’s what he’s doing with this gesture and your legs are trembling with another wave of sheer arousal - even as he stops pissing inside of you, you can’t help yourself from moaning at the feeling of liquid in you, the knowledge that he just did as he pleased. You stay intertwined like this for several more minutes, you basking in the afterglow of your orgasm and the embarrassing revelation and Hunter in utter bliss, instincts finally satisfied. His knot goes down with time and, just many times before, you wiggle beneath him, signaling for him to get off you. He complies. The sound is downright unholy as he pulls out, the splat of fluids on your sofa enough to make you cringe, the fabric now undeniably ruined. Hunter only shoots you an embarrassed smile over your shoulder and you frown, already calculating the ensuing costs of getting the stain out in your head. “Bad boy!”

[annebd]

i’ve often thought that the daily wordle guess list could be fun as a quick fic prompt. i finally got around to giving it a try. my guesses for the day are listed at the end, with the correct answer in bold. spoiler if you haven’t done today’s wordle. :)

Daniel is pumped. It’s the first day of summer break, and he has decided: diets be damned, they’re eating good tonight. He’ll readily admit that he’s not the world’s best cook- he’s mostly survived this far on meal prepped food from his trainers, or takeout from a rotating list of three restaurants near his place in Monaco that don’t get too annoyed with all of his allergy and dietary restriction requirements. But he’s not entirely hopeless. He can fire up a grill and throw some steak on it, and it doesn’t take too much effort to toss together a quick salad and a baked potato. Simple fare, but delicious. It’s going to be great, and he knows Max will enjoy the home cooked meal as much as he will.

He bounds into the apartment and toes off his shoes at the door while calling out, “Maximus Decimus! The gods have decided- tonight we feast! And by ‘gods,’ I mean me. I’ve decided. Steaks, baby. The shop had filets on sale.”

There’s no reply. Daniel strolls further into the apartment, poking his head into the living room, where he expects to find Max zoned into his sim rig, headphones on and unaware of the outside world. But the living room is empty, save for Sassy perched delicately on the very top of the bookshelf, cleaning her face with a paw. Daniel frowns- had Max gone out? He hadn’t mentioned anything when they’d texted earlier.

He meanders into the kitchen, dropping off the dinner supplies on the counter and giving Jimmy, who chooses that moment to weave between his legs as a quick “hello,” a scritch on the head. “Where’s your daddy wandered off to, hmm?” he asks.

Jimmy gives an unhelpful “mrow?” in response, which Daniel accepts as the best answer he’s likely to get.

He leaves the kitchen and turns to head down the short hallway towards their bedroom, where he hears the faint twinkling of music. As he gets closer and then finally pushes the door open, he realizes that the TV is on low in the background. It’s some random infomercial with a slightly overzealous flute solo as the musical accompaniment to the attempt at advertising various kitchen gadgets. Daniel didn’t realize infomercials were even a thing anymore.

The room is mostly in darkness, the curtains drawn, just a hint of late afternoon sun spilling a strip of warmth across the foot of the bed. He doesn’t see Max at first, until he notices the lump of covers on the bed slowly rising and falling. Daniel peeks over the edge of the duvet and sees a tuft of blond hair sticking out. He pulls back the corner and sees Max, sound asleep, curled into the fetal position with his hands tucked under his chin. His cheeks are flushed blush pink, and his breaths are coming slow and deep.

It’s been a long season already, and Daniel knows the bone deep exhaustion that can settle in. Max has needed this. Daniel brushes his thumb across Max’s cheek, tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. It springs right back- the fresh haircut leaving it slightly too short to be tamed in that way.

The clock on the nightstand reads 16:26. Plenty of time for a quick nap before their feast of kings. Daniel turns the TV off, sending the room into a pleasant silence, interrupted only by the rhythmic sound of Max’s breathing. Daniel rounds the other side of the bed and pulls back the covers. He slides in behind Max, fits his body around the curve of Max’s, sliding one arm over his waist to rest over his heart, and tangling their feet together. He presses a gentle kiss to Max’s shoulder.

Max stirs for a moment, offers a mumbled “hrmph?”

Daniel rubs his chest softly and shushes him. “Go back to sleep, Maxy. We’ve got time.”

They sleep.

-

fresh/flute/fetal/filet

[webslingingslasher]

I’ve never done a request before

I got my hair cut and the hairdresser messed up my bangs :((( people have been telling me it looks okay and not too bad but I can’t stop fixating on the fact she cut too much and the ends are choppy :(((

Can you make a post where Peter comforts reader after a bad haircut! Thx in advance

how did this get so long? bestie, you inspired me

Bangs are not a normal hot girl thing. 

Bangs are a sad, hot girl thing. 

And you were a hot girl, but you were not sad, but you still have bangs and now you understand why bangs and mental breakdowns are associated. Because you look like you’ve had a mental breakdown. 

“It’s not that bad, baby. I’m sure of it.” Peter’s laugh echoes through the phone, you wish it would make you feel better, normally his childlike giggles and optimism could beat out the harshest, negative thoughts, but tonight it almost makes you mad. 

“This is my vietnam, peter. We have to break up, you can’t see me like this.” 

A bubbling laugh, “it can’t be that bad, it’s just different.” 

You run your fingers though your new fringe, it tapers oddly at the ends, one side definitely longer than the other. It’s just hair but it’s making you cry. 

“Imagine you go into Terry’s for a trim and he gives you a buzz cut, what then?” 

Peter sucks in air, “I’d have to dump you, no one should ever see that.” 

“So, you understand.” 

Peter hums on the line like a game of jeopardy, “how about you let me be the judge. If it’s as bad as you say it is, I'll let you dump me.” 

You tsk and shake your head on your side, you hear a siren blow by on Peter’s end. “See, that’s what we need to avoid, you can’t see me, your last memory of me needs to be a good one.” 

Peter lets out a breath, it’s sarcastic sympathy. “Too late, let me in.” 

You gasp, you leap off your bed and press your forehead against your window. When you close one eye and tilt nearly halfway around you can see the front of your building, sure enough your boyfriend is waiting to be buzzed in. In a panic you move to slap your hand against the bangs, you’re not ready, it’s so bad. 

“Nuh uh. Go home, not happening.” 

It was useless, he’d be climbing up the fire escape in ten seconds. You run around your room trying to collect things to hide your bangs behind. 

“Don’t make me climb up there in daylight.” He’s pouty. 

“I’m not, you can come back in three to six weeks when I don’t have bangs anymore.” 

Peter ignores you, “twenty seconds and I’m climbing.” 

You hold your breath, pressing back up against the window, you look at him. His phone pressed against his ear, he’s leaning against the outside gates. His gaze set on his wristwatch, he’s literally counting the seconds. 

A snicker, “I can feel you watching me.” 

“Unfair advantage.” 

 “Still looking, down to five seconds, baby.” 

“I’m not doing it, we’re broken up, remember?” 

Peter’s wrist lowers, he pulls away to look up at your window, there’s no way he can see you but he knows you’re there, it looks like he’s making direct eye contact. 

“You’re gonna make me do this?” 

“I’m not making you do anything, this could be considered trespassing you know. And if I were to pile more things on…” You’re speaking and watching him walk over to the side of your building, he’s on a mission. “this could be considered harassment, cause I did say we were broken up, and now you’re not..” He’s listening but not giving you any reaction, he tests the bar, you start to lose your train of thought, you really thought he wouldn’t do it. “you’re not.. You’re not stopping, peter, why aren’t you stopping?” 

Peter pulls himself up with one hand, his feet resting on the bottom rung, one leg rises for the second step. You slap the glass, it makes him look up at your room. “I’ll let you in! I’ll do it!” 

He narrows his eyes, he won’t move until you do. A whine sent you running to the front door, repeatedly hitting the button to open the door. 

“Now was that so hard?” 

“Manipulative!” 

“See you in like, thirty seconds.” 

“What’s with you and seconds?” 

“Shush.” 

You looked at your front door with crossed arms, just because you let him into the building doesn’t mean you’ll let him into your apartment. The doorknob wriggles, he couldn’t have thought it would be that easy. 

“Honey, I’m home.” 

You speak around a chewed nail, “no solicitors.” 

“I had special permission to come up here.” 

“No habla inglés?” 

A chuckle, “you can do better than that.” 

You think, one comes to you. “Actually, I don’t think my parents would like a boy in their home when they’re not here. Especially my ex boyfriend.” 

A small thump against the door, either his forehead or a weak knock. 

“Stop saying that, I don’t like it.” 

Your heart tugs, you were just trying to be funny. 

You rip the door open, “oh petey, I’m sorry. I didn’t-” you stop when you see his grin, he knows how to get you to open the door, tug at your heart strings. 

“Evil.” You try to close the door, his hand catches it. 

You narrow your eyes, he gives you a glance, “I’ll win.” 

You grunt but let him in, quickly heading to your room where you can nuzzle yourself in between pillows. Peter’s just as quick, doing his best to catch up as soon as possible. “Let me-” He tugs at your arm, you shake it off, “no, you’re not seeing it.” 

Diving into your bedsheets you fix the hoodie on your head, Peter follows. 

“I’m gonna do it.” 

His hands pull your hood away, he frowns at the beanie you pulled over your hair. 

“Baby, it can’t be that bad.” 

Your eyes glimmer, “it’s too short, and it’s all choppy and I hate them so much.” Your lower lip wobbles, all he can think to do is cup your face and kiss your forehead. 

“Maybe I can fix it.” 

He’s good at fixing things. You can trust him when he says that. 

You perk up, “you can?” 

Peter gestures to your hat, “let’s see the damage.” 

You tug it off to reveal a pinned fringe, you unveiled it with shame. Peter shakes it out, you keep your eyes closed, you don’t want to see his reaction. Delicate fingers pulled at strands of hair, when he had it all placed he took an honest look at it, tried to see past his bias of you being the prettiest human in the world, and noticed you were right. 

Not that he’d think you were lying, but possibly a tad dramatic. They came to the middle of your eyebrows, one side longer than the other, it almost looked like a ‘C’ curve. But, they looked good. They fit your face well, they make it highlight other features he had taken for granted. They just needed a little help. 

“I can’t do anything about the length, but I can even it up for you.” 

You still refused to look at him, “is it bad? Be honest.” 

Peter moved his neck trying to catch your eyes, “they look really good, I love ‘em. I know it’s a little janky now but in two weeks they’ll be perfect.” 

You look up, searching for a lie in his eyes. He’s telling the truth. 

“It’s so short.” 

He rubbed a thumb over your eyebrow, “just keep your eyebrows raised, they’ll never know.” 

“Permanent botox.” 

Peter grinned, he got you to feel better. He’s done his job, and it feels damn good. 

He made a suggestive face, “wanna role play hairdresser?”

[pooks]

just thought about how straw hat!Ichiji would fare during the Whole Cake Island arc

the answer? Ichiji becomes horribly traumatized

background. how did he get kidnapped? Ichiji was with Sanji during the Zou arc, but he seperated himself from the group minutes earlier because of a horrible gut feeling. Ichiji didn't want to worry the others and decided to investigate on his own. instead, he's laid down by brute force (even if he put up a good fight, refusing to bow down)

at Germa 66 and Ichiji's "punishment" for running away with Sanji you know how Sanji got the explosive bracelets? well...Ichiji got a collar around his neck and instead of being explosive, it sends electric shocks and forces him to bend his will to Judge.

through the arc, Ichiji is subjected to the continuations of his genetic modifications. Judge is still obsessed about making him his masterpiece. he considers Ichiji, despite going rogue, more worth than Sanji and with the revelation that Ichiji can use haki, he's determined to awaken Ichiji's "true power"

also at Germa he got a non-consentual haircut at Germa. his hair also turns vibrantly red instead of his usual dark red hair; a side effect of being forced to use the raid suit.

Sanji finds out Ichiji's secret Sanji, after his fight with Judge, finds out from Reiju exactly what Ichiji did for him the six months he was in the dungeons when they were kids.

Ichiji vowed to himself to never tell Sanji about the deal he made with Judge and went through "six months of absolute hell", in exchange for Sanji's freedom. and now, they're back and Ichiji must hold up his part of the deal, even if it means he will forever become Judge's pawn.

Sanji gets, understandably, upset by this revelation and he gets a flashback to growing up at the Baratie with Ichiji. he had always viewed his older quadruplet as an overbearing, annoying know-it-all, but now, he has context and realizes that Ichiji had more in common with their mother than he thought. both of them sacrificing for Sanji's sake, although in different ways; Sora was slowly dying when she attempted to save her sons' humanity while Ichiji was willing to endure a painful existence for him

Sanji's declarations, "I want to go home to the Sunny" and "I want to save my brother this time" during the "I want to go back to the Sunny", Sanji also reveals to Luffy that Ichiji can't leave either, although in the physical sense. Sanji doesn't want to leave Ichiji behind and let him be punished again for letting Sanji escape. Sanji truly loves Ichiji and wants to save him. he doesn't care for Judge or his other two brothers, but he can't let them die either.

Sanji tells that he never knew what Ichiji did for him until now and he feels like a bad little brother when his older quadruplet went and suffered for his sake. starting with making a deal with Judge and moving towards to starving at the rock where Ichiji made sure Sanji was more fed than himself. Sanji knows he can never repay for what Ichiji did for him

but if he knows if he doesn't do anything, then Ichiji will die and Sanji can't bear the pain of living without his big brother. this one declaration also hits home for Luffy, who thinks about Ace

Luffy, in a very Luffy-esque way, decides to crash the wedding to save his cook and his archivist

Straw Hats and Germa 66 vs. Big Mom Pirates

it happens like in canon, with the exception that Ichiji is very subdued at this point due to his continued surgeries and shock collar. he's still rebellious and calls out Judge at numerous times, especially when they're stuck in hardened candy. Ichiji has a lot of pent up resentment and even snaps at Judge that he hates him.

when Sanji saves them, Ichiji smiles for the first time since they were taken and Sanji feels warm by seeing the proud look in Ichiji.

Ichiji makes the choice to use the raid suit, although he looks at Sanji and says it's his choice this time. Ichiji, during his fight with Charlotte Katakuri, awakens "Sparkling Red" but he's still no match for Katakuri

during the wedding-crash-fight, Ichiji' gets his hair bangs cut's hair fringe gets cut, making his other eye visible with its scar.

escaping Whole Cake and disowning the "Vinsmoke"

Ichiji and Sanji gets their full circle moment with Germa as they're leaving on the Sunny. Judge is still a piece of shit and makes the whole Sanji-bashing speech. only this time, Ichiji steps up and tells him that Sanji is maybe a "failure" in Judge's eyes, but he was Sora's triumph.

Judge turns his attention to his eldest son and demands to know why Ichiji would go such lengths, abandoning his fate of greatness for "a stone around your neck, weighting you down". Ichiji then gives a cold smile and says that he always had emotions from the start; he was just clever and better at hiding his emotions when it was needed.

he calls out Judge for his obsession of making Germa "great" again and retorts that Germa was never great from the start. it fell from glory because they choose to become monsters instead. he gives examples of recognized kingdoms such as Alabasta and tells why they succeed while Germa fails.

Ichiji gets a surprise on his own when Niji and Yonji calls out for him, asking why he chose to abandon them. Ichiji looks at them and comes to the conclusion that perhaps they always had feelings, but for his two other brothers...they most likely didn't even know what emotion was and are, most likely, confused and manipulated.

Ichiji decides that they need to figure out themselves by their own and only answers that he decided that he want to become a human. he bids them and Reiju farewell and reminds them who he is.

"This is not a goodbye because I will never return. I'm not a Vinsmoke. I am Scarlet Ichiji of the Straw Hats Pirates. Farewell!"

in the aftermath when they're heading to Wano, Nami tries to fix Ichiji's hair and sees no choice than to even out his hair fringe, leaving both his eyes visible. Ichiji feels conflicted about this; he's happy that he stands out from the "Vinsmoke" style, but saddened that he no longer resemble Sanji or their mother Sora. Chopper comforts him that maybe they meet a Devil Fruit user who can grow hair, but Ichiji smiles and says that he'd rather be patient and let his hair grow long again.

when Sanji cooks for the crew once again, Ichiji relishes as he eats the food Zeff used to make when he and Sanji were kids; pan-fried seafood risotto. the arc ends with Ichiji and Sanji sharing a wholesome, tender moment as brothers. 🥺

[mylovelies-docx]

Sorry, I Love You - Part 12

I am sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry for this.

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Angst (!!!), murder, blood, guns, violence, death.

(I PROMISE EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY! You've just gotta trust me.)

Word Count: 2,724

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

He can’t take the silence any longer. You should have been home hours ago.

All his texts go unanswered and his calls go straight to voicemail. You’ve had late nights at the HYDRA base, but never this late – never an early morning kind of late.

He knows you’re capable. Knows that you’re one of the strongest people, the best agent, the best everything, but something doesn’t feel right. He can’t feel you. He knows that’s stupid – that he isn’t psychic or empathic or whatever he’d need to be to feel someone’s presence when they’re not in the room with him, but he’s always felt you. 

He can feel you down in his bones, his body unable to forget your voice, your laugh, your smell, your body beside, on, under his own. There’s no one in this universe that he knows better, that knows him better, than anyone else. 

Used to know. Until he fucked it up. Until he fucked everything up and drove you away. Drove you so far away that you weren’t even on the same continent for months, that you never picked up the phone and called him, that you didn’t send any silly texts at 2 am like you used to. He was too embarrassed and ashamed of his reaction to contact you first. He thought it’d be too impersonal to apologize over the phone and admit how scared he was when you confessed to loving him and how sorry he is for what he did afterwards.

That’s why he sent Steve and Sam to bring you home: so that he could see you again and explain himself to you and hopefully confess that, yes of course he loves you too. He was so nervous as he watched the quinjet approach, worried that you wouldn’t like his outfit, or the stubble on his jaw, or his new haircut that he got for you because he remembered how often you’d run your fingers through it and comment on how hot you thought shorter hair would look on him.

But then he cornered you in that hallway. Felt his heart break as you told him that you got over him, that you didn’t love him anymore and never did in any meaningful way. You assured him that you could be friends again if that’s what he wanted.

Of course that’s what he wanted. Of course he wanted to be friends. But he also wanted everything else – what you had before that night at the movies and what you could have had after. He wanted the date nights, and forehead kisses, and hand holding. He wanted the quick fucks, and makeout sessions, and love-making. He wanted all of it with you.

He still does. 

But you don’t.

He will forever regret the words he said to you that drove you away and dissolved the love that you felt for him. He will never forgive himself for taking away your future together. And after that disastrous conversation with you about Petre, he feels like he’s gone right back to square one. He doesn’t know what to do with his emotions and can’t express himself properly to save his life.

He knows what you said, knows the meaning behind the individual words you spoke to him last night: that you and Petre are not together in any way. But Bucky knows that isn’t what Petre wants – knows that Petre wants you in a way that Bucky used to have you, that Bucky could have had you, and more. Because Bucky sees the way that Petre looks at you, the way his eyes follow you around the room as you say hello and chat with his family when they’re around.

Knows that Petre has already asked his mother if she knew of anything else about you before he moved forward with a proposal, if there was somewhere specific he should do it, what else to bring besides his grandmother’s ring. Petre had been across the room with Tessa during this conversation, but Bucky’s serum-enhanced hearing picked it up and he knew that Petre was head-over-heels for you because how could he not be?

He’ll also never forgive himself if something happened to you at HYDRA. Your argument from last night has been lingering between the two of you, and he doesn’t know what to do to fix it – it’s just the actual process and action of initiating that conversation and exposing his squishy insides to you that causes his brain to shut down and his mouth to spew out stupid shit. He knows that you would never turn him away for being vulnerable, but just the way he’s acted when feelings have come up… it leaves a sour taste in his mouth and he’s sure it’s left one in yours as well. 

But you were supposed to call him at lunchtime and he would have said everything he’s been bottling up right then and there. Would have blurted it out because god damn him and his stupid mouth because every time he’s tried to bring it up, he’s fucked up and he hurt you. He doesn’t want to – can’t do that to you again. If you had just called when you said you would, it would have all been cleared up by now and you’d be home and hopefully in his arms and, and, and.

But you didn’t call. You’re not home. Bucky hasn’t apologized.

He’s already called Steve and requested backup – he’d rather be safe than sorry. Now all he’s waiting on is –

His phone that he’d left faceup on the countertop before him beeps and the screen flashes with a notification. Tony finally sent the link to track your location, letting him know where you’re at. Before his heart can even beat again, another message scrolls across the top of his screen.

That’s all Bucky needs before he races out the door, not even bothering to grab a coat before the door slams behind him. Tony’s second message burns behind Bucky’s eyes and makes it hard to think.

Hurry. Something’s not right…

***

The ATV Bucky ‘borrowed’ off one of the neighbors is perfectly capable of getting someone where they’re going, but Bucky grew frustrated with the speed as soon as he raced away with it. He’d have been happier on his souped-up motorcycle, roaring down the roads and sending gravel flying, but it’d be impractical on the freshly fallen snow and hilly terrain. 

His heart stutters in his chest every time he looks down at your tracker’s location and doesn't see it moving. There’s no way you’d be sitting idly in one spot deep in the forest, nearly 20 miles away from the HYDRA base and the house you’ve been sharing with Bucky. The home the two of you have made since arriving.

He thinks of how the two of you should be at the house now - fast asleep, maybe in the same bed if he’d found the right words to tell you what’s been going on in his head, why he was being such a asshole yesterday and how he never should have said any of the shit he did – or at least phrased it better, correctly. 

Every time Bucky remembers your fight last night, he feels the air leave his lungs and a fist form in his throat. The way your face had crumpled when he said you could be together again but then immediately shifted into a flat stare, no emotion evident when you told him that he was the reason that could never happen. Your broken voice when he tried to approach you again when he followed you home. The wrenching, muffled sobs he could hear you trying to smother across the hall as he laid there wide awake, his own tears soaking the pillow.

If Bucky could turn back time, he never would have asked you to be friends-with-benefits. His emotions were all over the place and he was still relishing his freedom, his autonomy that had been returned to him. He didn’t think he wanted any kind of committed relationship back then because he thought it would suffocate him, make him feel like he wasn’t his own person anymore, that there was someone that he had to answer to again.

He should have known that you wouldn’t have made him feel that way – that you are the exception to every rule and that you always helped build him up, never once did anything that made him feel suffocated or out of control. He’d been the one to initiate your friendship, he’d been the one that sought you out for no-strings-attached sex. You’d only ever been there for him, followed him when he needed to get away from the others, listened when he needed to talk to someone. Loved him when he didn’t want to be loved.

And what did he do with that love? He threw it away, crushed it under the sole of his boot in that alley way, let you walk away from his life when you should have worked it out together.

When he’d finally gotten his head out of his ass and realized that all the late nights, deep conversations, the comfort and warmth he felt in your presence: that was love. He didn’t recognize it at the time, but he knew that you were important to him, that you were the only one he could spend so much time with and not become overwhelmed. It took you leaving for him to realize everything that you did for him, all the support you offered. 

He spent a lot of time with his therapist after that. He used to be so angry at you and he knew it was unfair, that it wasn’t logical to be so mad at someone for falling in love, but he was. His therapist listened to his deepest, darkest, most wretched feelings about you, about himself. They helped him to realize that he wasn’t mad at you, that he was only frightened of the love you had for him and the feelings that brought up in him. He didn’t realize he found himself so unlovable and broken that he didn’t think anyone could love him like that. Could love him like you do. 

Did. Love him like you did until he ruined that love like he always knew he would, deep down. It took a lot of time and effort, but he finally understands what he feels for you. 

But now it might be too late.

Bucky is only a mile out from your location when he hears the barking of dogs and men yelling to each other. He pushes the ATV faster, dodging between trees and ducking under branches. Seconds later, Bucky sees lights bouncing off of a decrepit shack and agents wearing HYDRA uniforms scrambling around. 

He takes one hand off the handle and pulls his pistol from the waistband of his pants. He clears the treeline and jumps from the vehicle, ducking and rolling onto the ground. The ATV flies forward and knocks down one of the agents. They all turn to investigate the commotion, and Bucky starts firing.

He shoots one, two, three people off of their feet and they collapse onto the ground in pools of blood. Realizing at this point that Bucky is a threat, the others around the cabin pull their weapons out and aim for Bucky. He clears the next six with one shot each, leaving only two standing and no bullets left in his magazine. Bucky launches the empty pistol straight into one of the assailant’s temples, sending him sprawling. At the same second the pistol leaves his hand, Bucky sprints at the remaining HYDRA agent and slams his metal fist into their face, blood and bone splattering.

Grabbing the gun from this last agent, Bucky grips it in his fist and enters the building. Pivoting side to side, there’s no one immediately in his line of sight. He can see blood spatters around the room, in front of the bookshelf and desk, and a pool of it right in front of him in the archway between rooms. Bucky can hear someone just on the other side of the wall and he adjusts his hands around the gun, finger hovering over the trigger. 

Quickly rounding the open archway, Bucky finds his worst nightmare.

He sees you lying motionless on the ground, your warm, red blood steaming as it puddles around your body. A HYDRA operative stands over you, gun poised and ready. 

Without another thought, Bucky unloads the weapon. He riddles the final agent with bullet holes, ensuring that their finger will never pull the trigger on you. He doesn’t watch as they fall, instead running towards you with only one thought in his head: Please. Please be alive.

Bucky reaches your body where you lie on your side, facing away from him. He quickly rolls you onto your back and watches as your head lolls from the motion. 

“Y/N,” he calls hoarsely, placing his hands on your cheeks and patting quickly. “Y/N. Doll, wake up.” 

Your eyes remain closed and you don’t move. Heart in his throat, Bucky places his fingers on your neck.

Nothing.

“Oh god,” Bucky whines.

Nausea roils in his stomach as Bucky places his hands one over the other on your chest, fingers interlocked. He begins compressions, forcing your heart to circulate what little blood remains in your veins. He feels your ribcage creak and groan under the pressure, knowing he will break bones but hoping the effort will revive you.

Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty. 

Bucky removes his hands from your chest and uses them to tilt your head backwards, opening up your airway. He clamps your nose shut and presses his lips over yours, forcing two breaths into your lungs. He returns immediately to chest compressions, counting up to thirty again and repeating the process.

“Come on, doll. Come back to me.”

It feels like hours that Bucky crouches over your body, working hard to manually pump your heart and keep your brain oxygenated. He doesn’t know how long you’ve been without a pulse, but he’ll do anything to give you a chance at survival.

A loud whirring sound comes from outside and Bucky can hear boots hit the ground. He panics for a second, wondering how he’s going to keep you safe while also keeping you alive, until he hears Steve’s voice.

“Buck? Y/N?!”

“In here!” Bucky yells frantically.

Multiple people come barreling into the kitchen where Bucky is administering CPR. Shock and dread wash over everyone’s faces at the sight in front of them, but Bucky doesn’t have time for them to stand around. You don’t have time.

“Help her!” he cries, lungs and muscles burning. “Please!”

Natasha tries to rush forward, but her booted leg slows her down. Steve and Sam collapse on either side of your body, Sam pushing Bucky out of the way to start his own compressions. Bucky thunks to the ground, his body exhausted from the fear and effort of the last little while.

Wanda runs in, using her powers to suspend the regeneration cradle in the air and bring it over to you. Tony and Nat help Steve and Sam lift you up off the ground and into the machine as Bucky watches your cooling blood drip, drip, drip from your body.

Wanda’s face is wet with tears as she picks the cradle back up with you inside. Using a pulse from his palm, Tony blows a hole in the kitchen wall. Scraps of paper fly off the table and land near Bucky. Wanda takes you directly outside and into the waiting quinjet, Nat and Tony running alongside her. 

A blast of cold air from the open wall slams into Bucky and chills him to his core. He looks down at himself and finds his hands and legs covered in blood. Your blood. One of the pieces of paper catches his eye as it turns red where it lays on the floor. He scoops it up gently and tries to make out what is written.

Bucky can tell instantly that it is your handwriting, but it’s nearly illegible now. He can barely make anything out, and what he can rips his heart to shreds. A wet hiccup tears out of Bucky’s throat and his hands start to quake uncontrollably as he stares at your words.

In case these are my last words,

Don’t be sad. I wish that I could  have spent the rest of my life with you. I just want you all to know that I love you. so , so much. 

“I’m too late,” he whispers. “She’s… she’s…”

Steve and Sam grab either of Bucky’s arms and drag him to his feet. 

“We’ve gotta go, pal,” Steve says. “We’ve gotta get her to Helen!” Nodding his head, Bucky allows his friends to lead him outside and onto the jet. 

He watches you lying in the cradle, not moving, the entire way home.

Part 13

Tag list: @jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshine @happinessinthebeing @nash-dara @calwitch @stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283 @terry2227

[mysicklove-main]

It was your fault. Sure, he asked you to do this, but you should have known not to agree.

Shoto's hair was getting too long. So, instead of leaving the comfort of his own home to go to the barber, he asked his loving partner to cut it.

In hindsight, you should have known it was a mistake. You never had an…artistic talent, but you had confidence that you would not mess it up too badly.

You overestimated yourself. It was bad. Really bad. One side was too short and the other side was way too long. There was scattered loose hair on both sides that stuck up. It looks like a toddler got a hand on scissors.

The two of you stare in the mirror, you with tears in your eyes from a mix of laughing and guilt, and him with his eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “Wow.”

You cover your mouth to hold back a laugh. “I-Its alright! We can just put you in a hat and–”

“I love it.”

The laugh slips past you and you cough to try to cover it. Your face is red now from the hilarious situation. “Shoto, no, honey…”

He runs his fingers through his hair, turning his head to admire the loose strands in the mirror. “I look like a rockstar. Take a picture, I want to send it to Midoriya.”

His reaction is genuine and you honestly are not surprised. Style was definitely not his thing. One time someone, as a joke, gifted him a neon pink zebra sweatshirt and he wore it so much that the press made a whole article called, “Pro-Hero Shotos Strange Ideals of Style.” You had to throw it away for his career sake. “Shoto, let's go to the salon.”

“Why? This looks really good. I always thought I needed a new hairstyle.”

You shake your head and pinch the bridge of your nose. “No it doesn't.”

“Y/N I don't know why it took me so long to ask you to do this. Have you ever thought of going to beauty school?” He says it with such a straight face, you know he wasn't joking. Another small laugh falls from your mouth in disbelief.

“I'm going to grab you a hat.”

He refuses to wear the hat and go the salon, mentioning how he doesn't want to cover it nor waste your efforts. 

The next day he makes the headline of the news with his new “appearance” and almost every single one of his old classmates called you for an explanation of what the hell happened to Shoto’s hair. You couldn't give them one.

Shoto’s public appearance depends on you, so you took matters into your own hands. 

Two days go by and you told him you won’t sleep with him until he gets a haircut. He goes to the salon the next day.