#HOW DID TWISTED AND I GO BACK AND FORTH INSULTING EACH OTHER ALL THE DAMN TIME

[lalonderose]

hhh

[lamen-trash]

19 for Damen/Laurent? 💙💙

19. Forehead kisses (Prompt from this list)

Laurent did not know when he first started noticing it.

Maybe it was a few months after his frequent visits to Damen’s apartment began, or maybe earlier. He couldn’t be sure.

All Laurent knew was that somehow, in the midst of making dinner, watching a movie together, and the inevitable drooping of his eyelids as the night wore on, he magically ended up in a bed every night. Granted, it was the guest bedroom, but Laurent never had any recollection of saying goodnight to Damen or walking to bed. None of that seemed to matter, though, when Laurent was greeted with the sight of Damen cooking breakfast in the morning light, curls askew and smile lethal as ever.

It never bothered him before. That is, until one night, when both men had consumed one too many glasses of wine and made more than a few jokes at the other’s expense.

“Oh, come on, you’re the one who can’t even stay up until midnight and falls asleep on my couch all the time,” Damen laughed, his finger flung out accusingly and his eyes full of glittering mirth. The alcohol brought a sweet flush to his cheeks that made Laurent feel like he was melting on the inside.

His words, however, brought Laurent to a halt. He could only stare as Damen started to laugh harder at the stunned expression painted across his pale features.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Damen teased. “You always complain about being too tired to drive home and your words get all slurred and I have to carry you to bed.”

“I– What?” Laurent could feel a fiery blush start to overtake his features. “You definitely do not.”

“Wow, so you really don’t remember, huh?” Damen’s laughter had died down, but the soft, amused gaze he directed at Laurent stayed on his face.

Laurent had to change the topic. To something. Anything. “Kind of like you don’t remember spilling all those people’s drinks at The Abbey?”

That seemed to do the trick, as drunk indignation twisted Damen’s features. “Hey, I have no recollection of ever–”

And, bingo. Oaf distracted, crisis averted. “Of course you don’t remember – you were hammered!” Laurent laughed. “All of those women kept giving you dirty looks for the rest of the night.”

As Damen tilted his head back for a hearty laugh, Laurent stalwartly ignored the strong column of his throat and the dip of his Adam’s Apple. They had been friends for years, and Damen had never made a move. Laurent needed to get over himself.

Later that night, as their energy faded and the conversation dwindled, Laurent was determined to stay alert. But there was something about the soft leather of Damen’s couch, the warm lighting of the apartment, and the soothing sound of Damen mumbling an old story that had Laurent’s vision fading.

When the feeling of arms folding around his body permeated the haze in Laurent’s mind, he had the wherewithal to mumble “M'awake,” and try to squirm out of Damen’s arms.

It was to no avail, as Damen only tightened his grip before leaving the living room. “Let’s get you to bed,” Damen whispered close to his ear. Laurent could only let out a little noise of acknowledgement in response.

Everything was still hazy when Laurent felt covers being pulled up over him, and then, a pause, like the entire world was waiting for something. Maybe Laurent was waiting, too.

And suddenly: the gentlest feeling of lips against his forehead, like a butterfly wing fluttering against his skin.

Laurent would’ve stopped to think about it more if his mind wasn’t already slipping into unconsciousness the moment the feeling faded. That night, Laurent slept a sound, dreamless sleep.

Waking up the next morning was like emerging from the cold ocean after a long swim. It was as if liquid warmth was bleeding into every one of Laurent’s limbs, making him snuggle down further into the soft bedding.

And yet, when he opened his eyes and remembered the previous night in a sudden rush, all Laurent could feel was panic.

What had Damen meant by that? Was he supposed to remember the kiss? Did Damen kiss him in a platonic way or in a we’ve-been-friends-for-years-but-I-secretly-want-you-like-you-want-me way?

Laurent couldn’t help but bury his face into a pillow and let out a silent scream. Leave it to Damen to do something so innocent yet so loaded, and not think twice about it. It was cruel, really – Damen wasn’t the one with severe mental health issues prone to overthinking and thought loops.

The more Laurent thought about it, the more he could feel himself getting fired up. How dare Damen play with his heart like this? Especially after everything Laurent had told him about his past, how much he had trusted him with…

However, all thoughts of chewing out a too-large Akielon verbally that morning dissipated when Laurent peeked out of the guest room to see a fully-prepared breakfast with pancakes, berries and homemade whip cream.

Fuck, Laurent thought, and his heart instantly swelled in size. Damen knew the key to his heart all too well – sweets. Damn him.

While Laurent filled himself with sugar and carbs and coffee, no mention of last night arose, and Damen continued on like everything was normal. He took Laurent’s prickly morning attitude in stride and even ruffled his blonde hair before going to get dressed.

If you want to play oblivious, two can play at that game, Laurent thought to himself, and chewed thoughtfully.

From that point on, every time Laurent went over to Damen’s house, he made an effort to hold onto the last shreds of consciousness before everything slipped away. Like clockwork, around midnight, Damen would gently pick Laurent up and carry him to bed before tucking him in and kissing his forehead. The feeling was always fleeting, but treasured in Laurent’s bruised heart.

Sometimes, if they had laughed particularly hard together one night, Damen would spend a few extra seconds stroking Laurent’s cheek or hair, before pulling away as if burned.

It was maddening. Not that Damen was treating him tenderly for seemingly no reason – that, Laurent particularly enjoyed – it was that Damen seemed to want to touch him more, yet never did.

“We’ve been friends for years, and nothing until now,” Laurent exclaimed, waving his hands around as if that would solve his problems. “Why doesn’t he just make a move already?”

Aimeric only raised his eyebrow over his freshly-brewed coffee as he took a long sip.

“You’re judging me. Why are you judging me? You know I hate it when you look at me like that,” Laurent deadpanned.

Aimeric let out a little chuckle before shaking his head fondly. “You,” he began, pointing a perfectly-manicured nail in Laurent’s direction. “Have a problem. And Damen does, too. There’s something wrong with you guys.”

“If you could skip out on the insulting me part and move on to the advice segment of this coffee date, I would really appreciate it.”

Laurent couldn’t hold in his begrudging smile when Aimeric wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and raised his voice an octave. “Ooh, we’re on a date right now? Should I delete my dating apps and tell all my boy toys that I’m taken?”

After a firm smack to Aimeric’s arm and a classic over-the-top reaction from the brunette, he sighed. “Listen, I’m only going to say this once. Do with it what you will.”

Laurent nodded, gravely serious.

“Damen’s in love with you,” Aimeric said, and then took a sip of coffee as if those words hadn’t just flipped Laurent’s entire world upside down.

“And before you wipe that stupid look off your face and deny it, you should hear that you’re definitely in love with him, too.”

“Wh–”

“Don’t make me say it again, and don’t deny the truth.”

Laurent’s mouth snapped shut. He chose his next words carefully. “Yes, it is true that after many years of friendship I do feel a certain… fondness for Damen, but that’s not–”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Aimeric exclaimed, and slapped his hand down onto the table. “You guys have been in love with each other for years and we’ve all been waiting for one of you to make a goddamn move. I’m sick of this back and forth ‘Will they, won’t they’ and ‘Oh they’re pining for each other and it’s romantic’ bullshit.”

“Wait–” Laurent felt like his eyes were about to pop out of his head.

“I’m being dead serious when I say you need to make a move as soon as possible or else I will spontaneously combust from lack of attention. All our friends ever want to talk about when you’re not there is how much you and Damen want to bone each other but act like you’re just friends. I told Pallas about a new guy I’m dating the other day and his response was to ask me if I want him as much as Damen clearly wants you. How is one man supposed to live like this?”

“Aimeric, stop–”

“It’s always Damen this, Laurent that. ‘They’re meant for each other,’ blah blah blah. What about my fairytale slowburn friends-to-lovers romance? What about any of us? It can’t be about the It couple all the time.”

“We’re not even a couple!”

“Exactly. That is my point. Get your shit together before we all excommunicate you two from the friend group for being dumbasses.” Laurent could see in Aimeric’s pointed look that his friend was serious.

While Laurent sat in stunned silence, Aimeric regained some of his usual amused nonchalance. “I’m late for my 2:00 meeting.”

With that, Aimeric was up out of his chair and patting Laurent’s shoulder in farewell before breezing out of the coffeeshop door.

Laurent could only finish his coffee quietly, sitting in dazed contemplation of what he was about to do.

That night, Laurent knew he had to bring out the big guns.

“Wow, wine and vodka tonight?” Damen asked upon opening his door, eyeing the alcohol in Laurent’s hands.

“Let’s play a drinking game,” Laurent said in response, a smirk playing around his lips. He didn’t miss the way Damen’s eyes strayed to his mouth.

Hours later, when Damen was thoroughly drunk and laughing way too loudly at Laurent’s insults, Laurent decided to make his move.

“Damen,” Laurent began, waiting until his friend looked up at him with glazed eyes. They were both sitting on the ground in front of the couch, a few candles lit around them. “How long have we been friends?”

“Is this still part of truth or dare?” Damen asked.

“No, it’s just truth now. We each ask a question, and the other person has to answer truthfully. If the other person refuses to answer, they have to take a shot.”

Damen let out an overdramatic whine and let his head fall back against the couch. “No more shots.”

“Then answer truthfully, and we won’t have a problem.” Laurent’s smile was sharp. Too sharp, and he could feel it. Even with the drunkenness running through his veins, Laurent’s nerves were on fire.

“Okay,” Damen said.

“Okay?”

“Yes, I said yes!” Damen laughed, and turned to face Laurent more fully. “You go first.”

Laurent made a show of thinking before starting again: “How long have we been friends?”

Damen’s smile turned dopey. “Hmm. Five years? No, six. Was that just a test?”

“Maybe,” Laurent couldn’t help but be charmed by Damen’s drunken earnestness. “Your turn.”

“How do you get your hair to be so soft?” Damen asked in wonder, reaching out a finger to twirl a golden loc around.

Laurent laughed. “Conditioner.”

“Never tried that,” Damen said thoughtfully, which made Laurent laugh again. Damen, being Damen, joined in, until both men were giggling uncontrollably on the floor for no apparent reason.

It was when their laughter started to die down that Laurent decided to rip the Band-Aid off.

“Are you in love with me?”

Damen’s laughter abruptly cut off. Laurent couldn’t bring himself to meet Damen’s gaze, so he opted to stare down at his crossed legs and fidgeting hands.

Wordlessly, Damen poured himself a shot and downed it in one go. Laurent risked a glance up and was met with Damen’s solemn face, uncharacteristically stoic.

“My turn.” Damen said in a rush. “How long have you been awake when I kiss your forehead at night?”

“A couple months now.” Damen wasn’t meeting his eyes, so Laurent pushed on. “Do you want me?”

Another shot, downed hastily by an increasingly-drunk Damen who still refused to make eye contact.

A shred of irritation slithered into Laurent’s heart. Why wouldn’t Damen just talk to him?

“Do you ever think about it? Us together?” Damen went to pour another shot, but before he could say anything else, Laurent shot to his feet.

“Oh, so you’re just not going to answer me, then? You’re not going to answer any of my questions? How about this: Have you ever thought about fucking me? About me naked underneath you? About us kissing and holding hands and going on dates in public together?”

Damen raised the shot glass to his lips, but Laurent knocked it out of his hand before it reached his mouth. Finally, Damen met Laurent’s gaze, and the panic that had been seizing Laurent’s heart for months seemed to be reflected in his dark irises.

“Stand up and talk to me, idiot, before I leave this apartment and never come back,” Laurent hissed.

Slowly, Damen rose to his feet. “I love you,” Laurent managed to get out, despite his throat closing up with emotion. “And if you don’t love me back, I’m not going to wait around and–”

Between one second and the next, Damen had a strong arm wrapped around Laurent’s waist and was pulling him in, closer and closer until their mouths met.

Laurent could only freeze, everything in his body coming to a halt, as he registered what was happening. Damen was kissing him. He had refused to answer all of his questions, and yet–

“You’re the idiot,” Damen whispered into the scant space in between their lips when he pulled away. “I’ve been in love with you the whole time.”

“But– I– you–” Laurent tried and failed to get a coherent sentence out.

“I thought you were asking all of those questions because you were mad I was carrying you to bed and kissing you goodnight,” Damen laughed. “Granted, I am quite drunk and not thinking straight, but that’s not the point.”

“The point is–” Damen began, but interrupted himself to steal another quick kiss. “I want you more than anything in the world. I’m happy with your friendship if that’s all you’re willing to give, but you need to know I’ve been in love with you for years.”

The room seemed to come into sharper focus, as if every detail in Damen’s apartment had been hiding from Laurent previously.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Laurent could hear the shrill tone in his voice, his incredulity overcoming all reason.

“Laurent,” Damen deadpanned. “I’ve barely dated anyone else the entire time we’ve been friends and I make you food all the time. You’re my emergency contact for everything. Hell, you’re the only one of our friends who has a key to my apartment. Was I not making myself clear enough?”

After a moment of contemplation, Laurent could only laugh.

“What?” Damen asked defensively, as Laurent leaned forward to rest his head against Damen’s shoulder, stifling his giggles in the fabric of Damen’s sweater.

“I just… this whole time?”

“Yes.”

When Laurent pulled back, he was met with the softest look he’d ever seen on Damen’s face. It was almost unbearable. And yet, he could bear it. For Damen, he would.

Laurent leaned in for another kiss. “Six years, huh?”

“Mm-hm,” Damen murmured against his lips.

“I guess we have lots of lost time to make up for,” Laurent smirked, and grabbed Damen’s hand.

“We are both way too drunk to have coordinated sex right now,” Damen warned, and Laurent laughed.

“Not sex,” Laurent said, and took back his spot in front of the couch. “We’re playing the questions game again, and this time you don’t get to evade. I need some answers, starting with a detailed explanation of when exactly you started to like me as more than a friend.”

The wicked yet playful look on Laurent’s face made Damen groan.

This was going to be a long night. Somehow, Damen couldn’t find it within himself to care.

Read this on AO3.

[roach-works]

here’s a story about changelings

reposted from my old blog, which got deleted:   Mary was a beautiful baby, sweet and affectionate, but by the time she’s three she’s turned difficult and strange, with fey moods and a stubborn mouth that screams and bites but never says mama. But her mother’s well-used to hard work with little thanks, and when the village gossips wag their tongues she just shrugs, and pulls her difficult child away from their precious, perfect blossoms, before the bites draw blood. Mary’s mother doesn’t drown her in a bucket of saltwater, and she doesn’t take up the silver knife the wife of the village priest leaves out for her one Sunday brunch. She gives her daughter yarn, instead, and instead of a rowan stake through her inhuman heart she gives her a child’s first loom, oak and ash. She lets her vicious, uncooperative fairy daughter entertain herself with games of her own devising, in as much peace and comfort as either of them can manage. Mary grows up strangely, as a strange child would, learning everything in all the wrong order, and biting a great deal more than she should. But she also learns to weave, and takes to it with a grand passion. Soon enough she knows more than her mother–which isn’t all that much–and is striking out into unknown territory, turning out odd new knots and weaves, patterns as complex as spiderwebs and spellrings. “Aren’t you clever,” her mother says, of her work, and leaves her to her wool and flax and whatnot. Mary’s not biting anymore, and she smiles more than she frowns, and that’s about as much, her mother figures, as anyone should hope for from their child. Mary still cries sometimes, when the other girls reject her for her strange graces, her odd slow way of talking, her restless reaching fluttering hands that have learned to spin but never to settle. The other girls call her freak, witchblood, hobgoblin. “I don’t remember girls being quite so stupid when I was that age,” her mother says, brushing Mary’s hair smooth and steady like they’ve both learned to enjoy, smooth as a skein of silk. “Time was, you knew not to insult anyone you might need to flatter later. ‘Specially when you don’t know if they’re going to grow wings or horns or whatnot. Serve ‘em all right if you ever figure out curses.” “I want to go back,” Mary says. “I want to go home, to where I came from, where there’s people like me. If I’m a fairy’s child I should be in fairyland, and no one would call me a freak.” “Aye, well, I’d miss you though,” her mother says. “And I expect there’s stupid folk everywhere, even in fairyland. Cruel folk, too. You just have to make the best of things where you are, being my child instead.” Mary learns to read well enough, in between the weaving, especially when her mother tracks down the traveling booktraders and comes home with slim, precious manuals on dyes and stains and mordants, on pigments and patterns, diagrams too arcane for her own eyes but which make her daughter’s eyes shine. “We need an herb garden,” her daughter says, hands busy, flipping from page to page, pulling on her hair, twisting in her skirt, itching for a project. “Yarrow, and madder, and woad and weld…” “Well, start digging,” her mother says. “Won’t do you a harm to get out of the house now’n then.” Mary doesn’t like dirt but she’s learned determination well enough from her mother. She digs and digs, and plants what she’s given, and the first year doesn’t turn out so well but the second’s better, and by the third a cauldron’s always simmering something over the fire, and Mary’s taking in orders from girls five years older or more, turning out vivid bolts and spools and skeins of red and gold and blue, restless fingers dancing like they’ve summoned down the rainbow. Her mother figures she probably has. “Just as well you never got the hang of curses,” she says, admiring her bright new skirts. “I like this sort of trick a lot better.” Mary smiles, rocking back and forth on her heels, fingers already fluttering to find the next project. She finally grows up tall and fair, if a bit stooped and squinty, and time and age seem to calm her unhappy mouth about as well as it does for human children. Word gets around she never lies or breaks a bargain, and if the first seems odd for a fairy’s child then the second one seems fit enough. The undyed stacks of taken orders grow taller, the dyed lots of filled orders grow brighter, the loom in the corner for Mary’s own creations grows stranger and more complex. Mary’s hands callus just like her mother’s, become as strong and tough and smooth as the oak and ash of her needles and frames, though they never fall still. “Do you ever wonder what your real daughter would be like?” the priest’s wife asks, once. Mary’s mother snorts. “She wouldn’t be worth a damn at weaving,” she says. “Lord knows I never was. No, I’ll keep what I’ve been given and thank the givers kindly. It was a fair enough trade for me. Good day, ma’am.” Mary brings her mother sweet chamomile tea, that night, and a warm shawl in all the colors of a garden, and a hairbrush. In the morning, the priest’s son comes round, with payment for his mother’s pretty new dress and a shy smile just for Mary. He thinks her hair is nice, and her hands are even nicer, vibrant in their strength and skill and endless motion.   They all live happily ever after. * Here’s another story: Gregor grew fast, even for a boy, grew tall and big and healthy and began shoving his older siblings around early. He was blunt and strange and flew into rages over odd things, over the taste of his porridge or the scratch of his shirt, over the sound of rain hammering on the roof, over being touched when he didn’t expect it and sometimes even when he did. He never wore shoes if he could help it and he could tell you the number of nails in the floorboards without looking, and his favorite thing was to sit in the pantry and run his hands through the bags of dry barley and corn and oat. Considering as how he had fists like a young ox by the time he was five, his family left him to it. “He’s a changeling,” his father said to his wife, expecting an argument, but men are often the last to know anything about their children, and his wife only shrugged and nodded, like the matter was already settled, and that was that. They didn’t bind Gregor in iron and leave him in the woods for his own kind to take back. They didn’t dig him a grave and load him into it early. They worked out what made Gregor angry, in much the same way they figured out the personal constellations of emotion for each of their other sons, and when spring came, Gregor’s father taught him about sprouts, and when autumn came, Gregor’s father taught him about sheaves. Meanwhile his mother didn’t mind his quiet company around the house, the way he always knew where she’d left the kettle, or the mending, because she was forgetful and he never missed a detail. “Pity you’re not a girl, you’d never drop a stitch of knitting,” she tells Gregor, in the winter, watching him shell peas. His brothers wrestle and yell before the hearth fire, but her fairy child just works quietly, turning peas by their threes and fours into the bowl. “You know exactly how many you’ve got there, don’t you?” she says. “Six hundred and thirteen,” he says, in his quiet, precise way. His mother says “Very good,” and never says Pity you’re not human. He smiles just like one, if not for quite the same reasons. The next autumn he’s seven, a lucky number that pleases him immensely, and his father takes him along to the mill with the grain. “What you got there?” The miller asks them. “Sixty measures of Prince barley, thirty two measures of Hare’s Ear corn, and eighteen of Abernathy Blue Slate oats,” Gregor says. “Total weight is three hundred fifty pounds, or near enough. Our horse is named Madam. The wagon doesn’t have a name. I’m Gregor.” “My son,” his father says. “The changeling one.” “Bit sharper’n your others, ain’t he?” the miller says, and his father laughs. Gregor feels proud and excited and shy, and it dries up all his words, sticks them in his throat. The mill is overwhelming, but the miller is kind, and tells him the name of each and every part when he points at it, and the names of all the grain in all the bags waiting for him to get to them. “Didn’t know the fair folk were much for machinery,” the miller says. Gregor shrugs. “I like seeds,” he says, each word shelled out with careful concentration. “And names. And numbers.” “Aye, well. Suppose that’d do it. Want t’help me load up the grist?” They leave the grain with the miller, who tells Gregor’s father to bring him back ‘round when he comes to pick up the cornflour and cracked barley and rolled oats. Gregor falls asleep in the nameless wagon on the way back, and when he wakes up he goes right back to the pantry, where the rest of the seeds are left, and he runs his hands through the shifting, soothing textures and thinks about turning wheels, about windspeed and counterweights. When he’s twelve–another lucky number–he goes to live in the mill with the miller, and he never leaves, and he lives happily ever after. * Here’s another: James is a small boy who likes animals much more than people, which doesn’t bother his parents overmuch, as someone needs to watch the sheep and make the sheepdogs mind. James learns the whistles and calls along with the lambs and puppies, and by the time he’s six he’s out all day, tending to the flock. His dad gives him a knife and his mom gives him a knapsack, and the sheepdogs give him doggy kisses and the sheep don’t give him too much trouble, considering. “It’s not right for a boy to have so few complaints,” his mother says, once, when he’s about eight. “Probably ain’t right for his parents to have so few complaints about their boy, neither,” his dad says. That’s about the end of it. James’ parents aren’t very talkative, either. They live the routines of a farm, up at dawn and down by dusk, clucking softly to the chickens and calling harshly to the goats, and James grows up slow but happy. When James is eleven, he’s sent to school, because he’s going to be a man and a man should know his numbers. He gets in fights for the first time in his life, unused to peers with two legs and loud mouths and quick fists. He doesn’t like the feel of slate and chalk against his fingers, or the harsh bite of a wooden bench against his legs. He doesn’t like the rules: rules for math, rules for meals, rules for sitting down and speaking when you’re spoken to and wearing shoes all day and sitting under a low ceiling in a crowded room with no sheep or sheepdogs. Not even a puppy. But his teacher is a good woman, patient and experienced, and James isn’t the first miserable, rocking, kicking, crying lost lamb ever handed into her care. She herds the other boys away from him, when she can, and lets him sit in the corner by the door, and have a soft rag to hold his slate and chalk with, so they don’t gnaw so dryly at his fingers. James learns his numbers well enough, eventually, but he also learns with the abruptness of any lamb taking their first few steps–tottering straight into a gallop–to read. Familiar with the sort of things a strange boy needs to know, his teacher gives him myths and legends and fairytales, and steps back. James reads about Arthur and Morgana, about Hercules and Odysseus, about djinni and banshee and brownies and bargains and quests and how sometimes, something that looks human is left to try and stumble along in the humans’ world, step by uncertain step, as best they can. James never comes to enjoy writing. He learns to talk, instead, full tilt, a leaping joyous gambol, and after a time no one wants to hit him anymore. The other boys sit next to him, instead, with their mouths closed, and their hands quiet on their knees.   “Let’s hear from James,” the men at the alehouse say, years later, when he’s become a man who still spends more time with sheep than anyone else, but who always comes back into town with something grand waiting for his friends on his tongue. “What’ve you got for us tonight, eh?” James finishes his pint, and stands up, and says, “Here’s a story about changelings.”

[tsukishumai]

camily camily camily can i get 1 with osamu :’)

REMYaajsjejw ilysm for requesting 🥺

I hope you like what I picked & wrote for u love! 💖

Send me a prompt + ur fav character here :)

1. “I love you.” “Tell me that when you’re sober.”

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

The way the white plastic ball left your fingertips felt perfect, proven by the soft clink it made when it landed in the single plastic cup that taunted you from across the table.

Your arms shot up in victory, mirroring the position of Suna next to you. The two of you turned to give each other a high five, and you added your last insult to the injury by sticking your tongue out at your opponents.

“No fair,” Osamu slurred from across the ping pong table, “Your elbows were passed the table.”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Samu!”

“I wouldn’t be if you played the game right!”

“Alright then, let’s have a rematch so I could whoop your ass once and for all.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one that’s gonna be doing the ass whoop-“

Just as you watch Atsumu roll his eyes and drag Osamu away from the table, you felt a strong tug on the collar of your jacket.

“There are other people waiting to play,” Suna grumbled, dragging you to the other side of the room, “You can flirt with Osamu later.”

“I wasn’t flirting,” you half heartedly denied, looking over your shoulder to watch the twins make their way into the kitchen.

The graduation party was beginning to die down, the crowd thinning out as the night started to bleed into the early morning. A few people had remained; some still dancing to the bass that filtered from the speakers, some people were knocked out in the most random places, and some were still keeping a game of beer pong very alive. A bittersweet smile began to form on your lips, knowing this will probably be the last time you’ll ever see any of these people again.

You weren’t too broken up about it, this was always going to be a part of the high school experience. As much as you’d like to say that you’ve made life long bonds and connections with your classmates, you can never truly count on the fact that life will take you along the same path. All you can really be is thankful for everything these interactions at Inarizaki were able to teach you.

Though, as Osamu walked out of the kitchen with yet another red solo cup in his hand, you can’t help but wonder just exactly what this connection has taught you.

Osamu had taught you perseverance when you had first joined Inarizaki as the team manager, as you witnessed the grueling training, early mornings, and late nights it took to be a nationally ranked team. Even though there were days when his love for volleyball began to wane and the frustration seeped deeply into his muscles, he showed up and saw everything through until the end.

Osamu taught you patience during daily walks home from practice, and having to apologize to the convenience store owner for the thousandth time because Samu and Sumu got into another fight in between the aisles.

Osamu taught you kindness when he caught you crying in the equipment room because of a failing grade, and he spent the entirety of practice messing around and making you laugh at the expense of him getting scolded by Kita AND Atsumu.

Gradually, over the years, through little lessons with Osamu that taught you to believe in yourself or that it’s okay to laugh at your pain, you wondered if it all added up to what you maybe hoped to be a lesson about love.

You were just turning this thought over in your brain when you felt a hand sliver around your shoulders.

“Hey, L/N,” the arm greeted, though upon closer inspection you notice it was attached to a guy that you recognized from your class.

“Oh, hey,” you replied, trying to shimmy your way out of his hold.

“You know, I’ve always had a crush on you,” he slurred, “How come we never hooked up?”

You giggled nervously, trying to wrack your alcohol laced brain for his name, and feeling a little guilty when you came up short.

“Maybe we should give it a shot now?” His face came dangerously close to yours and you tried to shove him off.

“Dude, back up -“

Just then, a strong hand gripped your arm, successfully pulling you away from your cage.

“Y/N, what ya doing? Come on, it’s late, I’ll walk ya home,” Osamu said surprisingly clearly, considering how he’s been stumbling over his words all night.

You signed out in relief, giving Osamu a grateful look when he replaced the arm around you.

“Hey, are ya guys leaving? Wait for me,” Atsumu called out, clambering up from his spot on the couch.

“Get yerself home,” Osamu snapped, giving Atsumu an unreadable glare. You waited for the inevitable snarky come back that usually came from the blonde setter, but nothing came.

Instead, Atsumu gave his twin a smirk, waving him off with a, “See ya at home, Samu.”

The air outside was cold and crisp, each breathe coming out in opaque puffs of clouds. You hardly felt the cold, nearly tripping over your feet as you tried to follow the sidewalk. Osamu stepped into place beside you, swaying side to side in an attempt to stabilize his footsteps.

“Get a grip, Samu,” you teased, even though you weren’t much better yourself.

“Come ‘ere, then,” he grumbled, extending an arm out and pulling you tightly into him, “I need help.”

“Jesus, why are you so heavy?” You joked, but you wrapped your arms around his waist to support him, nonetheless.

He gave a pointed glare, one that would have been intimidating if it weren’t accompanied by the pout on his lips, “I didn’t see ya complaining when that other guy had his arm around ya.”

You wanted to point out that you were, in fact, in the process of pushing him off of you when Osamu had come to save you himself, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“Well, he wasn’t leaning his whole damn body weight on me, treating me like some crutch,” you teased, and Osamu simple flicked your forehead.

The walk was silent after that, the two of you side by side and in each other’s arms as you followed the sidewalk illuminated by flickering street lamps.

“What were ya talkin about, anyway,” Osamu had broken the silence as your house came in to view.

“Why, jealous?” You teased, if only to hide the fact that you sorely wished that were true.

Osamu scoffed. “Please. Look at him, then look at me, then ya tell me who should be jealous.”

“That’s mean,” though you wholeheartedly agreed, “For your information, he was just confessing his secret, undying love for me.”

Osamu froze in his spot, just a mere ten feet away from your front door. You glanced up at him curiously, his face twisted into something between irritation and shock.

“Seriously?”

“Osamu?” You wondered if you had said something to make him angry.

Suddenly, Osamu’s hands flew up to grip his hair, eyes squeezed as he let out a groan in frustration.

“That grimey bastard beat me to it!”

You were taken aback by his sudden outburst, never expecting him to react this way to someone else’s confession.

“I was supposed to do that,” he grumbled out, pacing back and forth and seemingly forgetting about your presence, “I was going to walk ya to yer front door, all romantic-like, and then I was gonna tell ya!”

“Tell me what?”

“That I love you!”

You stared at him, speechless as he continued his rant about the nameless idiot that has thrown a wrench in his plans, as if completely unaware of what he just said. And maybe it was the fact that he admitted to drinking too much that night because he was nervous to tell you he’s loved you since first year. Or maybe it was the disheveled gray hair with the matching gray eyes that looked at you with desperate hopes and a frenzied confession. Or maybe it was the seven shots you had taken three hours ago that gave you the courage to do what you did next.

But you reached out and grabbed Miya Osamu by the neck, pulling him in and shutting him up with a deep kiss.

You pulled away, resting your head on his forehead, looking into his half lidded eyes as they tell you they could teach you so much more.

“Tell me that when you’re sober,” you pleaded, placing one last kiss on the corner of his lips. “When we’re both sober.”

You left Miya Osamu dumbfounded and rooted to his spot as you walked the last few feet to your front door, turning around and giving him a wave, asking him to text you when he gets home before walking in, collapsing against the door as you closed it behind you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The banging on your front door reverberated throughout your whole house, making you fly down the stairs to see just who the hell could be making that much noise this early in the morning.

“WHAT — Osamu?”

“Hey, I’m sober, are you?” The words flew out of his mouth in a hurry, and it took you at least a few seconds to process just what was going on.

“I’m sober,” you replied slowly, trying your damn hardest to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay and hoping to god this wasn’t actually a dream.

“Great,” Osamu said, putting his hands in his pocket, “Well, I love ya.”

You blinked, before finally letting the happiness show on your face, jumping into his arms that caught you with ease.

“I love you too.”

[buckysbabygorl]

Pin It

Summary: Reader will fight Barnes until she wins. Bucky isn’t complaining, problem is he can’t resist pinning her to the floor.

Pairing: bucky barnes x reader

Warnings: sexual innuendo, mild swearing

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Y/N’s heart pounded as she scrambled to free herself.

Her arms wriggled against the restraint of his palms. She flailed her legs in an attempt to escape.

But she stood no chance.

“And that’s time.” Steve called out.

“Damn it!”

Y/N stopped fighting and dropped her head against the mat, she’d lost once again.

Bucky smirked as he straddled her hips and pinned her wrists down to the ring floor.

They’d been at this for nearly an hour, Y/N was determined to finally beat Barnes after countless sessions of combat. But so far, no luck.

“You’re making this too easy, kid.”

He extended his arm as he stood, lifting Y/N up and settling her body in front of his.

“Shut it Barnes, quick break then we’re going again. I’m kicking your ass this time.”

Barnes laughed and shook his head, will she ever learn?

Nat had been watching intently from the sidelines, analyzing the fight. It couldn’t be helped; her second nature of taking in everything around her and storing it like valuable data. She loved to people watch, actually, she lived for it. Naturally her attention was set on her teammates; watching how they moved with one another, how they excelled and how they could improve.

Y/N was, oddly enough, a perfect match for Bucky in the ring. Both were skilled fighters with immense amounts of endurance and strength. Yet for some reason, Bucky had Y/N beat.

They both easily took down other members of the team in training: herself included. Though she didn’t care to admit it…

So what was it?

They had all analyzed each other’s fighting styles: was Y/N just off her game? Was Bucky really that unpredictable?

Unpredictable. She delved into the thought further; what was Bucky changing up, exactly?

Bucky was a strong fighter: 6 feet of pure muscle and brute force. His fighting style was aggressive as he had been trained to clear out his obstacles as quickly and powerfully as possible. He was like that with every opponent.

Then she realized, not with Y/N.

With Y/N it was smoother, carefully planned. He would do his best to dodge attacks passively and slowly work his way in. Like he was trying to get closer — why? It would be smarter to avoid your opponent. What’s the end goal there?

Nat replayed their last fight: a punch from Y/N leading to a grip of the wrist and an offset of her stance. It sends her off balance — one quick stride and he’s got her pressed up against the ropes.

A kick leads to a catch of her ankle, swiftly collapsing her knee, she’s down on the ground. He doesn’t strike then, but immobilizes her with a pin to the floor.

A sweep of Bucky’s legs sends him crashing to the floor, she moves to strike and he grabs her, pulling her against him and rolling over so she’s beneath him—

Oh.

It happened over and over again like clockwork.

He was like a school boy: having to pull the pig tails of the cute girl at recess for attention.

Nat had figured it out: hardly able to contain a laugh as Barnes neared her. She watched him as he snatched a water bottle from the floor, raising it to chug its contents.

She cleared her throat, “You know, that’s not your usual sparring style.”

Bucky finished his drink of water, bringing down the bottle as he looked at Nat.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she started, “You’re usually more of a ‘one punch man’ type deal. Not so much for… a dance. Or overly complex.”

Bucky laughed, “Are you insulting my methods?”

“Not at all,” she nodded back to the ring, “just an observation. You’re a bit more, um, hands on…”

Bucky nervously fiddled with the lid of the bottle as she continued.

“Lots of lifts, less distance, a lot more floor work... pinning.”

Bucky coughed, stalling as he looked for an explanation.

“There’s nothing wrong with trying something new.”

“Oh, is that what that is?”

He shrugged, “Yeah. What else would it be?”

“Well considering it’s only with one person that you ‘expand your method’—”

Bucky noticeably avoided her gaze.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Oh, I mean the fact that you pin Y/N to the floor every chance you get.”

Bucky's face erupted with red, he looked around in hopes no one heard.

“You’re imagining things, Romanoff.”

“Really? I bet you can’t go 5 minutes in the ring without wrestling her to the ground.”

Bucky scoffed in an attempt to dismiss her, “This is ridiculous.”

“Yeah? Then take the bet. If I’m wrong it shouldn’t hurt you. Right?”

Bucky scowled lightly as he realized he’d been caught in her trap. Blow it off and he’s admitted something.

Accept, and he has to behave.

Bucky didn’t have to wrestle her to win, right? Powerful strike to the shoulder, strong kick to the side. Spar done.

“Alright, fine. What’s your wager?”

“Fifty bucks.”

Bucky rolled his eyes “Jesus, you that confident?”

Nat chuckled, crossing her arms as she turned back to the ring.

“I’m never wrong, you should know that by now.”

Bucky looked across the room, watching Y/N stretch as she chatted with Steve. She laughed at something Steve said, rolling out her shoulders and rubbing her neck.

Bucky paid extra attention to the dip of her shoulder, the crevice of her collarbone—

“Hey!”

Her call snapped him back to reality.

Y/N raised her hands in challenge, “we doing this thing or what?”

His nerves had his mouth run dry, and Nat laughed as she saw Bucky’s hesitation.

“Good luck tiger, hope you’re good for that money.”

Bucky huffed as he tossed his water bottle at her, Nat easily catching it as he did.

“Be ready to pay up,” he teased as he lifted himself back over the ropes.

“You betting on us now?” Y/N remarked.

“Something like that…”

They circled each other for a moment before settling into their fighting stances, waiting for Steve’s call.

“Alright, time starts… now!”

The seconds passing drew out in anticipation, both fighters waiting for the other to strike.

Nat watched eagerly from the sidelines. She neared the ropes, she wanted a good view when she won this bet.

But Bucky thought differently. He was too good at this: he knew all of Y/N’s weaknesses. He would win this easily, without pinning her down.

Y/N struck first, Bucky knew she would: she was never patient enough to anticipate a move.

They rallied hits back and forth, some making their mark and others easily defended.

Y/N then went to kick his right side, but instead of deflecting he gripped it against his side in a lock.

Bucky then motioned to pull her hips to his, followed by a collapse to the floor—

In that moment Bucky panicked, he nearly did exactly what Nat had called him on.

Nat could see the moment of recognition in his face, as her palms drummed the mat in excitement. She was right.

Quickly, he rejected his plan of action, tossing her away from him as they tumbled downwards.

As Y/N rolled to the floor and Bucky wobbled to his stance, she moved to kick out his legs from beneath him.

Bucky was sent crashing to the ground, landing on his back.

Y/N shifted over him and raised a fist, aiming for his jaw.

Bucky moved just in time, the blow being struck at his shoulder instead.

In one swift motion, he threw her to the side and mounted her easily.

Shit, Bucky thought. I did it again.

Bucky hadn’t yet pinned her arms and her free fist collided with his groin.

Bucky grunted at the pain; Y/N lifting herself and pushing him backwards as the hurt rendered him immobile.

Landing on his back again, he attempted to strike Y/N’s leg with a bent knee.

Y/N blocked the shot with an open palm and pressed his knee into the ground.

With Y/N closer to the ground; Bucky used his free leg to topple her to the side again, having her land on her chest with a loud thud.

In seconds he was on top of her, his hips pressing her down as his hands reached up to grab hers.

Caught up in the fight, Bucky hadn’t realized he’d done exactly what he wasn’t supposed to.

Steve started the count as Bucky held her down.

Through heavy breaths Y/N spoke to him, looking up through her thick lashes.

“Just can’t resist being on top of me, eh Buck?”

Bucky nearly choked.

In a moment of shock, his grip loosened on her arms.

Having her chance, Y/N twisted and reached behind him.

Placing her elbow around Barnes’s neck, she pulled him forward and locked his head against her shoulder.

She rolled them over, leaving Bucky on his back as her weight rested against his chest.

Having him disoriented, Y/N rushed to pin him down.

Y/N’s one knee pressed his metal arm against his abdomen while the other knee dug into his groin. She then reached to pin his flesh arm above his head, while her free hand clasped gently around his throat in a hold.

Bucky was hypnotized as sweat trickled down her jawline, her chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. She smiled tiredly, but an energy still sparked in her eyes.

“But you certainly look good beneath me.”

Bucky stared up at her, speechless. Only registering his loss when Steve called out “time”.

“Yes!”

Y/N cheered as she stood; fist raised in the air in triumph.

“I told you I’d kick your ass.”

She laughed heartily as she jogged over to Steve; eager for notes.

Bucky remained in his position on the floor, shell shocked at the transpired events.

“Damn, looks like we both lost that one.”

Bucky turned his head to the side, Romanoff’s head resting on crossed arms at the edge of the ring.

“What happened there?” She asked.

Bucky puffed out his cheeks, shaking his head as he looked back up to the ceiling.

“The girl just completely floored me.”

She laughed, “I saw that.”

Bucky’s head rolled to the side, looking at Y/N and Steve as she chattered on.

“Gotta watch out for that one, she’s unpredictable.”

Nat shook her head at Bucky’s state. Girl gives him a switch up, and suddenly it’s like he’s never fought before.

“You had her last time, what changed?”

Bucky hummed, not taking his eyes off his opponent.

“Call it a dynamic shift.”

“Interesting…” Nat let her word trail off, following his gaze.

Y/N childishly danced in victory as Nat met eyes with Steve, smiling back at her while he chuckled at her antics.

“So, you giving up?” Nat asked.

Bucky slowly tore his gaze away from Y/N to meet Nat’s questioning look.

“Oh god no.” he said, a glimmer of something mischievous in his eye.

“In fact, I’m just getting started.”

Masterlist

Hey guys! Working on some requests for @fandomsfallnomore @marvelrose @wintersoldierbucky28 and some new parts to my series, hope this will tie you over until I get the big stuff done! If you want to be in a tag list please comment or DM me. I had a small one written but I can’t find it!

[myonepiece]

kid x reader

blue jays 

pt2 pt1

warnings: cursing, slut shaming, cheating, violence(abuse), don’t worry it’s fluffy at the end <3

so i doubt kid would actually forgive his s/o for cheating, but i just felt like writing something where he does, and i already had a rough idea of how this would go

another scream turned squeak burst from your throat and kid could feel his heart clench at the heartbreaking sound. he grunted in acceptance and cupped the back of your head with his calloused hand. he leaned down and pressed a quick chaste kiss to to your forehead before he turned his head and rested it on top of yours.

“i- i’m sorry! i’m sorry kid!”

“for what?”

“i- i- i-”

you were starting to hyperventilate you just couldn’t catch your breath and your grip tightened on kid’s coat as a result. his hands grabbed your upper arms and he peeled you away from him slightly.

“oi oi, calm down.”

his scarlet eyes scanned your own [e/c] orbs for any sign of what was bothering you so much that you couldn’t even say it- in the end he couldn’t find anything but panic and.. guilt? maybe. he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to. your forehead, a somewhat unusual action for the red head, so sweet and innocent but it just made you cry harder.

“k-kid i- i- something-”

you inhaled a squeaky breath and your head fell against his head in frustration. kid shook you lightly and pulled you back again, he was starting to get scared.

“oi tell me what the fuck happened!”

taking a large shaking breath and exhaling it slowly you were able to calm yourself just enough to slip out a few coherent words.

“i did s-something-”

eustass’ eyes widened and he visibly tensed at your words, wondering just what the fuck you could have done that would make you react like this. his fingers dug into your skin in anticipation and anger that he still didn’t know what was going on. 

“what did you do?”

you inhaled deeply again and watched the mesmerizing colors of his eyes that bore into you like you were completely bare layed out in front of him. you could feel the tension in the atmosphere like the air before a storm- the storm was no doubt kid’s reaction to your actions and even now you wished you had never said anything about your mistake. but if you loved him, you would tell him.

“i-.... i met a man here...”

words seemed to be forgotten and you could only shut your mouth and swallow thickly, while watching kid do the same. as soon as he heard those words a new foreign idea formed in his head, one that was already making his head spin and his throat close. his gaze seemed to darken in realization and his nails began to breach your skin.

“h-he took me outside and we-.. we...”

with your gaze falling to kid’s lower stomach in shame, his suspicion was solidified. blood was brimming around his fingers and you bit your lip to hold back another sob. 

“did you do it?”

you had never heard him speak so calmly and it was terrifying considering the meaning behind the question was your own betrayal and disloyalty. you shut your eyes and the tears rolled down your cheeks. kid’s hand grabbed your chin harshly and yanked it up to look at him as you answered. your face contorted in anguish and you nodded as best you could in the draining control of your body, uttering out a broken and strangled:

“yes.”

kid’s lips parted in a snarl and he pushed you off his lap hitting the frigid ground of the room.

“i’m sorry kid-”

“don’t fucking say that!”

he whirled around to face you his face twisted in anger and disgust as he watched you struggle to get up.

“you think sorry does anything after you fuck some stranger you whore?! I don’t give a fuck if you’re sorry!”

you shuffled back against the wall trying to avoid kid’s flying limbs.

“you’re a fucking slut you know that? you fucking spread your god damn legs for any man who shows you attention!”

the chair you had previously been sitting on flew across the room and broke on the wall above your head with the pieces falling onto you. 

“that’s the only reason i keep you around y’know?! because every time i’m horny i know you’ll come running!”

your nails dug into your own skin when you covered your mouth muffling the screams that had returned and wouldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried. the door burst open and killer stood in the doorframe. he grabbed kid by his coat and yanked him out of the room bringing consequences as killer was thrown against the bar and kid stormed through the bar towards the door.

your eyes fell the floor and your vision depleted as they threatened to close and the wails tore from your throat. “i’m sorry” left your lips repeatedly despite it not helping your attempts at quieting and ultimately ceasing your howls. it was painful how hard it was to hold your eyes open so eventually they closed tightly and the rest of the tears cascaded down your reddened and puffy cheeks. you rocked back and forth in your indignant position for who knows how long until you felt a hand on your arm.

“_______.”

wire crouched beside you watching with pity trying to pull you up.

“come on we’re leaving.”

he pulled you up with force when you tried to retreat farther into the corner and he dragged you with him out of the bar and into the chilly night. the walk to the victoria punk was one one silence and knowing, you dragged your feet along feeling like you had walked a hundred miles in the snow. you had no doubt that you looked like complete shit with red puffy cheeks and eyes, a nose like rudolph and guilt radiating off of you like light off the sun. 

the ship was unusually quiet when you stepped aboard the crew members all stole a look at you sharing the same disappointment and anger. much to your surprise you were led to kid’s room and wire pushed you inside before slamming the door. it all felt so unfamiliar now- even when you looked around and drank in the dark corners not reached by the lamp lights and the discarded clothes, bottles, and weapons. you trudged over to the bed and stared at it tiredly before falling down and burying your face in kid’s scent as your tears once again started.

you could feel the dehydration but why would you care at a time like this: you cheated on your boyfriend, you were told you were only a fucktoy, and you have no idea where kid has run off to. you’re left deservingly alone and discarded in the messy sheets that still held kid’s musky smell. slipping under the blankets you curled into the fabric and held it against your mouth letting the tears dampen it beneath your fingers. for what felt like hours you stayed sobbing in the bed feeling the ship sway in the waves. as exhausted as you were you just couldn’t sleep.

a streak of light cut the dim room and pulled you from your self loathing thoughts and a finally familiar sight greeted your bleary eyes. his boots heavily hit the ground with each step towards his desk at the other end of the room. he swung his darkened coat off his shoulders and threw into the desk stopping there.

“are you awake?”

his voice was more gravely than usual and it made you want to run to his side and comfort him, but you couldn’t do that right now so instead you said “yes”. 

kid sighed deeply and swallowed the lump in his throat that formed at the sound of your voice that was so obviously strained. his crimson eyes landed on your form as he peered over his shoulder. you diverted your eyes almost instantaneously and pulled the covers tighter around you.

“did it mean anything?”

“no. i didn’t even know his name, kid.”

“like that makes it any better.” the pirate scoffed.

his vest slipped off and fell to the floor and he abandoned his boots on the ground before taking a few steps closer to the bed.

“i’m so sorry kid...”

your voice was barely above a whisper and you had to quickly bury your mouth in the sheets again to hide your wheeze that escaped at the end of your guilt ridden sentence. kid still heard it though, the apology and the whimpers that followed. he was trying so hard to not break and comfort you. the side of the bed dipped under his weight when he dropped onto matress with his back to you and his elbows resting on his knees. 

“you’re a bitch you know that?”

“yes...”

i mean you couldn’t blame him for insulting you again, you would be fine if he called you a whore again.

“______... you won’t do it again.”

“never.”

he looked back at you momentarily and threw his head in his hands with a grunt. you waited patiently for him to do something and after a troubling time arguing with himself he grunted again and moved.

“move over.”

you immediately moved to the side of the bed near the wall and moved the covers so he could get into bed. he yanked the covers up to his midsection and turned his back to you settling into the mattress. it was quite selfish of you to wish he had pulled you into his arms and cuddled you like you usually did when you were going to bed and it truly kind of disgusted yourself that you did want that. 

for awhile the both of you stayed in silence and you were finally allowing yourself to fall asleep-  that didn’t mean you were able to though. you were still restless and scared even though it seemed kid had forgiven you. kid felt the same way because he was still lying awake scowling at the wall across the room wondering if it would be weak to hold you after the previous events.

his stubbornness triumphed as always-  he wanted to hold you and he’d be damned if he didn’t get what he wanted. he roughly turned over in bed and grabbed you by the arm pulling you towards him. you ended on his chest with his arms wrapped tight around your figure. 

“i’m sorry kid..”

“i know doll.”

you turned your face and buried it in between his pecs kissing the skin tenderly. your hand gripped his shoulder tightly like you would have if he had his shirt on. you felt his lips against the crown of your head and you looked up at the man with pleading eyes. after a minute of nothing he leaned his head down placed his lips on yours staying close when you parted.

“_____ when i said i only keep you around for fucking, that was a lie.”

you smiled for the first time that night and kissed kid’s cheek lovingly before one last kiss on his lips. you tucked your head into the crook of his neck and his cheek rested on top.  

“i love you _____.”

“i love you too, kid.”

[lettrespromises]

> LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification.

> Letter object : the heart’s warmth and the body’s flames.

> Todoroki Shouto and Bakugou Katsuki sent you a letter, would you like to read it?

@bruised-cherry​ sent a letter : ❝Hiya, Nikki! Can I request a one-shot(if you're down) where Todoroki and Bakugou's(poly relationship) s/o got into a little argument with each other and now their s/o is rejecting them and ignoring them. Since it's summer, TodoBaku turned off the air conditioning, AC, etc, knowing their s/o would need them soon. And just, kinky, dirty ass s m U t :) (and lana spelled backwards if you're down with that, if not that's cool). Sorry I'm a kinky hoe 👉😅👈❞

Author’s letter :

❝ dear bruised-cherry,

first and foremost, i would like to apologize for taking so long to write your promised letter! nonetheless, i had a lot of fun writing it, hopefully it will reach your expectations!! it’s 4:05am as i am writing this and my brain is unable to write proper words i’m sorry—

sealed with a kiss,

nikki.❞

Genre : Pure smut, angst if you squint.

Warnings : Cursing, sex, vaginal sex, blow-job, cunnilingus, anal sex, daddy kink. (Please consider that the characters are aged up.)

Word count : 5.8K.

This day seemed to counterbalance the already established rules of time and space, you were secretly convinced that minutes were hours and each time you would lay your eyes upon any item with the sole purpose of indicating the current hour, you felt as if time had stopped. It was a long, long day. Truthfully, you wished you could have had the opportunity to meet someone whose quirk was time control to ask them to skip the remaining hours of the day.

The root of the problem was deeply imbedded with the increasing attacks committed by the villains in town, you were on a mission with both Bakugou and Todoroki- a clear lack of communication and coordination signed a burning defeat for the three of you. A mission built and perfected during several months had just blown into pieces, your efforts, tears, blood and energy were the combustibles to the pain fueled by this defeat. Each one of you attempted to exude this loss in your own way while making your way back home. Todoroki, sat on the passenger seat, found the cure to his own inner built-up anger by digging his pearly whites into the flesh of his thumb while observing the passing scenery before his eyes. Bakugou, unexpectedly, made a martyr of the steering wheel by squeezing the non-existent life out of it, causing his fingers to turn white in the process. You, on the other one hand, kept on reminiscing the earlier events of today, your mind roaming over and over again to find what went wrong, you weren’t exactly angry : disappointed in yourself was a more precise way to describe the matter.

The silence was deafening, almost agonizing. Truthfully, silence was even more intimidating than noise- a noisy ride would have included the repertoire of Bakugou’s insults flowing freely from his mouth, it was expected. But silence, on Bakugou’s end, echoed to a level of anger rarely ever reached, metaphorically speaking, Katsuki was a living and breathing ticking bomb at this very moment.

The sound of the car door smashing broke the silence as you arrived home, Bakugou was already inside, his hands shoved in his pockets as expected. You freed a sigh you ignored you were holding from your lips, an early sign that you knew there was little to no seconds left on the ticking bomb. Todoroki sent an apologetic glance in your way, you knew he didn’t mean no harm, if anything, it was a silent sign to encourage you before facing the aftermath caused by the explosion of the bomb.

Flower vases left shattered on the floor, a door handle scarred by the scorching hot imprints of Bakugou’s unforgiving hold and a continuous flow of insults as background noise- those were the said aftermath of the explosion. Bakugou’s body language radiated off pure anger, like you or Todoroki had barely seen before, his rage was exuding from the pores of his palms through a dangerous marriage of small explosions and smoke. He was roaming back and forth in the living room, his stare was focused on the explosions emanating from his hands as a way to convince himself that the more explosions would be set free, the less he would feel angry.

« Fuck, fuck, fuck… Goddamnit, fuck! What the fuck went wrong, hah?! We planned this shit entirely, from start to fucking finish. What the fuck went wrong?! You tell me instead of staring at me, do fucking something for once! » The words echoed and morphed into a roar sent directly your way, anger lacing his every word.

« Bakugou, don’t say things you don’t mean. » Todoroki stated, the pseudo comfort embedded in his voice radically clashed with the heat of Bakugou’s words.

« Don’t say shit I don’t mean? Who the fuck are you to tell others what to do when you couldn’t even do shit when we were facing those bastards?! You didn’t do shit, you fucking left us on our own and arrived at the very last second. So tell me, give me one good fucking reason as to why I should take shit from you! Fucking say it to my face, because I’m dying to know what’s your excuse. » The sounds of Bakugou’s explosions slowly adopted the structure of a crescendo, but Todoroki remained unfazed, his facial expression didn’t betray his pseudo serenity. « I was evacuating the civilians, you knew that, I don’t understand why you act so confused. We prepared this plan together, the three of us, you knew what my role was. »

You were stuck in the middle of a battlefield, torn between two sides but the tragic twist of this scene was that you couldn’t find the strength to defend one of them. You needed to remain objective and impartial, something obviously easier said than done. Your eyes darted from one figure to another each time you heard the sound of either Todoroki or Bakugou’s words, truthfully, you felt paralyzed under the lack of options in this crucial situation- on one hand, Katsuki was nothing short of acerbic when anger consumed him, on the other one hand, Shouto’s calm attitude hid a dangerous amount of anger building inside of him ready to explode if Bakugou’s venom stung too hard to Todoroki’s liking.

« Oh yeah, yeah. You were on you own, hah? Evacuating civilians and shit, am I supposed to feel fucking sorry for you when Y/N were busting our fucking asses out there to take down those bastards? You’re trying to play it solo like your old man? You know what, the more I think about it, the more you start to act like him-… »

« Katsuki! That’s enough, shut up! »

It was your turn to let anger lace your words in such a way that they developed their own toxins, purposefully made to sting Bakugou hard enough to cut his rambling. Endeavor was a touchy topic to Shouto, and as soon as Katsuki pronounced the words ‘old man’, a hint of flames appeared on Todoroki’s collarbone- it was only a matter of second before an inferno invaded the living room.

« You never know when to stop, do you? Do you have any idea of how ridiculous this is? You, Bakugou, you should know out of all people that his father his a sensitive topic, and yet you let your anger get the best of you every damn time. Todoroki, were you really ready to blast your flames at him? Aren’t the both of your grown men, or am I mistaken? How disappointing, how fucking disappointing. » You dropped every last ounce of energy in your tirade, every last bit of emotion in the process too. You felt so numb, deprived from your own vigor.

Both Todoroki and Bakugou’s eyes fell on you as soon as your roaring words broke their mutual verbal assaults, their mouths were set agape- they did have words on the tip of their tongue, but they couldn’t find the strength to give life to them. There it was again, the deafening and agonizing silence.

You couldn’t bare standing in the same vicinity as them, disappointment clouded your vision and the more you looked at them, the more your vision became foggy- but it still remained unclear as to whether it was due to the disappointment or the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. Without wasting yet another second, you went upstairs and locked yourself in your room, giving yourself some privacy to wipe away your tears.

Downstairs, the silence was still suffocating both Bakugou and Todoroki, their stare were still laying upon the spot where you used to be just a few seconds earlier, they just hadn’t processed your sudden disappearance. They blinked once, then twice, and a third time to make sure they weren’t dreaming and once they were convinced it was very much real, they looked at each other and sighed as if they were, too, deprived of their own energy.

« Bak-… Katsuki, it was my mistake to threaten you with my flames, I apologize. » Todoroki’s tone was soft in comparison to his last statement, a sense of compassion replaced the anger laced in his words.

« I shouldn’t have talked about your shitty dad. » A sentence, which, in Bakugou’s vocabulary echoed to an apology, but with the cruel exception of the forbidden word which begins with an ’s’ and ends with ‘-orry’.

« I assume Y/N is not going to talk to us for a while, and, don’t take it personally but her presence is very much needed. » Bakugou frowned as Todoroki’s words connected to his eardrums, needless to say, he knew he was right but didn’t care enough to admit it and grant him this silent victory.

« I might have an idea, half-and-half, use your shitty quirk to lower the temperature of the house, you know how much she fucking hates cold temperatures. That’s gonna make her move her ass out of the bedroom. » Todoroki only quirked his eyebrows in response while Bakugou was adorning his most victorious grin, he knew this plan meant an automatic win- both of them could handle cold temperatures thanks to their quirks, you on the other one hand, were more fond of warmer temperatures.

Todoroki sighed, perhaps already regretting his choice to follow Bakugou’s antics, but if it meant that he had to play dirty to get you, he was ready to deem himself as the dirtier player in the game. Soon enough, a frigid fog invaded mercilessly the first floor, and your bedroom was the first victim of the unforgiving coldness. Little did you know, this was the beginning of a series of crushing defeats on your end : seeking warmth underneath your blankets? Didn’t work. Blow air on your hands? A total fail. Looking through your boyfriends’ closets to find one of their thick hoodies and wear it? Not the solution you needed to cure the problem.

You were running out of solutions, and that’s when your unconsciousness crept in and murmured suave temptations to your ear : the welcoming warmth of Bakugou and Todoroki’s bodies, their arms wrapped around you like a human cocoon to protect you from the cold temperature. It sounded like a dream, and you had the means to make it real- but at what cost? You roamed around the room, not only to create body warmth by moving, but also to accelerate the train of your thoughts. What was more important? Freezing yourself to death with your pride as an inexistent shield from the cold, or embrace the agonizingly tempting warmth radiating from both of your boyfriends?

The answer to your rhetorical question manifested itself rather quickly- in the blink of an eye, you had already wrapped your hand around the doorknob and raced downstairs towards the personifications of your very own personal heaters under Shouto’s puzzled expression and, in contrast, Katsuki’s triumphing grin.

« Hah? Have you finally decided to show up, princess? » Anyone could have noticed the more-than-obvious obnoxious tone dripping from Bakugou’s words, he glanced over at Todoroki who grinned at him in response, silently thanking him.

« Just keep me warm. » You found a perfect spot right between Katsuki and Shouto on the couch, your knees were brought to your chest, your arms were encompassing your legs- if anything, you were pretty close to looking like a sphere, but you were ready to contort yourself in any position to gather some precious warmth. Eventually, you let out a silent sigh as soon as you felt their respective warmth hit the surface of your skin as a sign of satisfaction.

« I think you forgot the magic word, love. » Shouto teased, his warm index gracing the cold flesh on your shoulder, such a tease.

« Ugh, fine! Keep me warm, please. » You emphasized the pleading word, just enough to make them grin even wider in victory.

« ‘Wasn’t so hard, was it, princess? » You couldn’t exactly tell if you hated or were absolutely enamored with the teasing tone of his voice, but once thing was certain- the grin plastered upon his face was a thing of beauty.

Bakugou, as expected of him, took the lead, or rather, sent a silent challenge in Todoroki’s way which dared him to take the upper hand of the situation. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a lion-like manner, ready to protect what’s his, with the help of his strength you were now sitting on his lap. The grip around your frame didn’t move one bit, not only did he want to provide you as much warmth as his quirk allowed, but he also wanted to maintain control. Your head was laying upon the surface of his shoulder, your face was facing Todoroki who admired you as if he had witnessed the renaissance of Venus under your traits.

« I will help you feel a bit more warm, alright, love? » You hummed in response to Todoroki’s one-sided interrogation.

Another source of warmth was more than welcome. Thus, Shouto wasted no time and placed his hand upon the surface of your cheek, daring to cross Bakugou’s self-claimed territory in the process without any ounce of shame. The amount of space between the two of you had dangerously reduced until totally disappearing which cleared Todoroki’s path on his way to show you just how much he could warm you up. His lids fluttered shut in anticipation, and there it was, the oh so fabulous source of warmth- he planted his lips on yours in perfect harmony. After all, a promise was a promise, correct? Regardless of how it’s executed, correct? That was exactly Shouto’s mindset as his tongue grazed your bottom lip to beg for access to the inside of your mouth, a wish quickly granted which allowed him to spread the warmth of his tongue inside your mouth as his pink muscle met yours which only announced the beginning of the dance of pleasure. Your actions corresponded to his, and his initiatives echoed to yours— soon enough, your tongues were melting in each other’s touch. As much as he wanted to keep this going forever, the way you grabbed his wrist was an indicator that you were starting to lack oxygen. Of course he ended the kiss, but not before he dug his teeth into your lower lip to which you responded with a semi silent whimper.

Bakugou observed the scene from the side with the same smirk gracing his facial features, he would be the worst liar on Earth if he were to say that seeing your mouths collide in harmony wasn’t the epitome of poetry in motion. But who was he to let Shouto get the best of you? Who was he to let Shouto make you whimper first? He craved, no, he needed to make you melt under his touch.

« Want us to make you feel hot, princess? Be careful what you wish for. » This sentence was his final warning before flipping you over on your back, offering him the best position to physically tale the upper hand under Shouto’s amused stare. You looked so pure and yet so sinful at once, a paradox which drove of them crazy as they imagined the most unholy deeds they were going to do to you. Katsuki’s index hooked the fabric of your hoodie (more like his, but it’s just a slight detail which turnt him on even more) before to pull it over your head.

Oh, and what a gorgeous sight to behold— your naked upper body, in all its glory, a body worthy of the most descriptive pages of a novel. He couldn’t help but snicker at the ethereal scenery before his eyes, he knew he was going to devour you and make you his, no matter what.

« Don’t give me those eyes, woman, I fucking told you I was gonna make you feel real hot. You won’t need this shitty hoodie to keep you warm. »

The assault was given once his pearly whites dug into the soft flesh of your neck, reflex kicked, you titled your head to the side to give him more room to play with. It was a succession of biting, licking, biting again until your skin adopted a purplish tone which echoed to a mark of both domination and belonging. Of course, you belonged to him… And Todoroki. Once he was satisfied with his artwork, he licked the abused flesh one last time before smirking to himself as a sign of victory.

You couldn’t expect Todoroki to be left out of the party, after all, you did belong to him too. He pushed Bakugou to the side just enough to bask in the glory of your half-naked form. The gleam in his eyes reflected nothing but pure adoration, he was torn between the will to worship each inch of your body and the tempting option to make your legs weak until you can’t form proper words anymore. Oh, well, both were bound to happen.

« Oi! If you wanna touch her, don’t fucking push me! » Bakugou’s rambling was cut short as soon as Todoroki’s lips crashed on his, the blonde eye’s widened in surprise but he eventually allowed himself to crave to the passion.

« I don’t need your permission to touch what’s mine. » Todoroki whispered against the flesh of your breasts, emphasizing the very last word strategically.

The sight of your hardened nipples caused him to lick his bottom lip in anticipation, just a way to warm up his lips before devouring your flesh. Todoroki wasted no time and took this opportunity to let his tongue grace your left bud, the motions were repetitive and hypnotizing— from circular motions right around your nipple, from vertical licks to sucking motions, each deed was designed for your own pleasure while your whimpers falling free from your lips and the hand stuck at the root of his hair encouraged his actions. Your whimpers were cut short once Bakugou’s lips found yours and dragged you in a tongue-led kiss, and to no one’s surprise, you followed his already established rhythm, but goodness, it was deliciously intoxicating, letting you crave for more. And somehow, the sound of your hushed whimpers created an even more attractive melody.

Now, it was Todoroki’s turn to take advantage of the vacant place left by Bakugou who was now bent on your side which meant that your whole body to discover for the umpteenth time. A trail of kisses left from the valley of your breasts to your lower belly indicated which dangerous way Shouto was bound to take. He took a glance at the liplock share with Katsuki who offered you no rest no matter if you craved for oxygen or not, the same amused grin still plastered upon his facial features, and augmented the temperature just a bit more.

His finger drew an invisible line along the edge of your underwear, a pre-meditated deed which only announced in advance what he was bound to do, he was just one step closer to make your legs crumble under his touch. In a swift motion, fueled by his own personal hunger to satisfy his fantasies, Todoroki got rid of your pants and he could already discern the wet patch adorning the cotton surface of your underwear, what a sight to see. A new trail of kiss was left upon your skin by Shouto, this time, he focused on the inside of your thighs and followed a vertical pattern until reaching the climax of his journey : your already dripping heat.

« Are you already this wet for us, love? How kind of you. » The amused tone which embedded his voice hid a hidden sinful tone, such a contrast, but only Bakugou and you could catch the double-tone.

Bakugou, on the other one hand, mimicked Todoroki’s earlier antics (only to outdo him, his own ego was his sole motivation) and made a victim of your breasts. One lovebite on your neck wasn’t enough, he craved to make you his even more, on every inch of your body. This thought was the reason behind his will to bite the generous flesh of your left breast, which clearly isn’t abused enough to his liking. And so it began once more— biting, licking, biting once more just hard enough to make you whimper in response, suck on your flesh until it becomes purple and has his name written all over it. From the love bite, Katsuki kissed his way until your nipple, the motions of his mouth were strategically chosen to make pure sounds of pleasure fall free from mouth mouth, while his thumb and index were twisting your nipple while following the circular motions of his tongue. The harsh grasp you held onto his blonde hair was only one of the first hints that you were on your way to reach a state of pure bliss, the moans echoing in his head were his favorite hint though.

The sensation of a sharp lick across the fabric of your underwear awakened a new whimper on your end, this time, it was higher which only echoed to a higher level of pleasure. Todoroki’s lips curved into a grin at the sound of it, what a marvel to hear. The fabric which separated your core from Shouto’s lips was seen as a taunt to the latter, but fret not, said taunt was quickly taken care of as soon as he got rid of your underwear, throwing them who-knows-where in the room.

And so the temperature augmented yet again— an experimental lick caused you to bite your lower lip to refrain any moan to escape from your mouth as you closed your eyes in anticipation for pure bliss. Your reaction was the best indicator to Shouto who had found yet another motivation to make you come undone— getting to hear your agonizingly breathtaking whimpers and moans fall in cascade from your lips. Your core was wet, much to Todoroki’s delight, and he could almost hear you calling his name, begging him to eat you as if you were his last dinner on Earth.

His mouth married the shape of your core, his tongue danced beautifully against your folds as if your core had been specifically created to welcome the wonders of his mouth. The licks left by his pink muscle were executed differently in several ways— vertical licks, circular shapes, he based his actions on the sound of your shameless moans and whimpers to predict his next move.

« Shouto, S-Shouto! » Your first begging, which didn’t go unnoticed to both of the protagonists of your very own pleasure.

« So eager, aren’t you, love? » He kissed these words into your skin, words embedded with adoration and love in the process.

Well, there was someone whose name hadn’t been begged, and truth be told, it was getting on his nerves. How dare Shouto have the honor of being begged and not him? Oh, well, he was about to change that right away.

« Open wide, princess, I’ll give you something to fucking beg about. » The same usual smirk accompanied his words, he already knew what was bound to happen, and the knew what effect it would leave on you.

By the time you were busy with Shouto, Bakugou had already taken care of his own clothing by… taking everything off. Isn’t it easier that way? His genetically given large hand stroked tentatively his length, just enough to cause a layer of pre-cum to cover his tip, once he was satisfied with the result, he wasted no time to shove his entire member in your mouth in a swift motion. The warmth of your lips was the most delicate welcome he could’ve asked for, regardless if you were to choke or not, he’d find a way to make you beg his name until it becomes the only thing you’re able to say. Your throat grazed the sensitive tip of his grit, earning you a hushed grunt as a reaction which was a rarity coming from Bakugou. Both of his hands held a harsh grip on your hair, and he used said grip as a level of pressure to thrust himself into your mouth under the mesmerizing sounds of your choked whimpers. It was a scenery of beauty, he was the sole holder of all your attention— you were looking at him through your lashes with pleading eyes, silently begging him to keep going until you were to choke on his member. A silent sign he didn’t miss, he knew you like the back of his hand, after all.

Eventually, Shouto complied to your begs, you wanted more? Oh, you were bound to get more, more precisely, you were bound to have exactly what you deserved. Todoroki and tease were very close to being synonymous, hence why he purposefully used the pad of his thumb to create circulate motions on your sweet bundle of nerves which was the key to make you come undone, and, of course, two of his fingers which had already found a shelter inside your folds while pumping in and out, over and over again, until bringing you to the brim of ecstasy.

Under this new pressure, the need to express your pleasure through moans was almost impossible given the fact that each sound coming out of your mouth was rendered hushed by Bakugou’s length. Your wrapped your hand around his phallus to not only catch some cruelly needed oxygen but also set free all the sounds of pleasure trapped inside you, as soon as your mouth was set free, a pure sound of bliss fell free from your lips. A sound so sinful and addicting at once that both Bakugou and Todoroki couldn’t help but repeat said sound in their head over and over again.

« Oi, princess, I didn’t fucking tell you to stop so keep sucking until I say otherwise, did you fucking get that? » It was a one-sided question, your answer wouldn’t matter anyway.

And there he went again, shoving his member inside your mouth as Bakugou began chasing his own pleasure— if he was careful enough, he could picture the shape of heaven when his lids fluttered shut. This time, his thrusts were harsher, clearly designed to attain his climax. But he wasn’t the only one who was close to reach the seventh sky— the addition of Shouto’s fingers pumping in and out, the oh so right pressure on your sweet of nerves and the precise licks left on your wet folds was nothing short of divine, that divine that it was going to make you reach your orgasm sooner than you thought.

Reflex kicked, your grip on Shouto’s hair became gradually tighter as you felt the knot in your stomach grow more and more until it became out of your control, you rolled your eyes back in ecstasy and the pearls of tears on the corner of your eyes were now rolling down the surface of your cheeks. Through choked sounds, you encouraged Shouto to keep going and going until you could touch heaven by the tip of your fingers. And then heaven came to you, the liberating sensation of floating on a cloud overwhelmed you as you reached your orgasm, manifesting the pure sounds of bliss through the hushed sounds caused by Bakugou’s intrusive length.

« You’re such a good girl, love, you came undone for us. Such a good girl… » The end of his sentence was whispered in marvel against your core, it was a sight he could never get bored of.

His tongue found once more its way to your folds, licking each and every drop of your juices to satisfy his own pleasure. Your taste was his favorite, it was addicting as hell, so addicting that before to swallow said juices, he would always make a mental note of how your cum feels on his tastebuds.

« Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, god-fucking-damnit! » Bakugou’s grunts followed the structure of a crescendo, he threw his head back in pure pleasure— he was so close, so fucking close, he wanted to reach the seventh sky as well.

Todoroki grabbed him by the nape of his neck, his fingers digging right in Katsuki’s flesh, and planted his lips still coated with your juices right upon his. Bakugou could taste your sweet nectar on Shouto’s lips, and perhaps it was the last thing necessary for him to come undone— your taste always had the ability to bring him over the edge, and once more, this time was no exception. Bakugou groaned against Shouto’s lips before breaking the contact between them to share a pure sound of ecstasy of his own and eventually, come undone right in your mouth. A string of the blonde’s cum dripped down from the corner of your mouth, and observing you use your tongue to collect the remaining cum on your chin made Bakugou if he wasn’t going to come undone twice in a row at the sight of this.

« Come on, love, we’re not done yet. » This was the final chapter of all of Shouto’s fantasies, a chapter which was finally bound to take form.

Todoroki snaked his arms around your form to place you right on his lap, once the position was comfortable for the both of you, he placed his length right against your twitching core which was already begging for him to fill you.

« Please, j-just fuck me already… Please… » Another auditive wonder— the sound of you begging was worthy of the most beautiful symphony.

« You asked so nicely, love, who am I to refuse? » A rhetorical question, as expected of Shouto when he led the teasing game.

Shouto filled you instantly, shoving his entire length inside you which caused the unexpected appearance of a moan which you could hardly suppress even by biting your lower lip. An initiative quickly ended by Bakugou’s intervention who tilted your head just enough so he could plant a rough kiss upon your lips in order to prevent you from hushing those sounds of pleasure any longer.

« Don’t be fucking shy, let us hear what you gotta’ say, baby girl. » You looked at Katsuki with pleading eyes, you knew that you were not going to be able to suppress or refrain any of your moans or whimpers, you knew you were bound to become a vocal mess.

Shouto’s hands held a strong grip on your waist, so strong that the tip of his fingers turnt white under the pressure. His rhythm was frantic from the beginning, using the combination of his hips bucking upwards and his arms wrapped around your middle to clash against his testicles. You had the best spot to hear up close and personal the ravishing sounds of bliss coming out of Shouto’s mouth like a broken record. Your arms were wrapped around his neck as a desperate cry for support as his hips were pounding deep inside you until reaching your cervix.

Behind you, Bakugou had already made sure to wet his fingers to prep you. Prep you for what exactly? Oh, well, we all know Bakugou doesn’t handle well being left alone, especially when Todoroki has the advantage of him. The tip of his fingers brushed against your rectum until two of them entered your second hole, he expected this reaction but your moans were ethereal, especially when he was the cause of them. His fingers pumped into your rectum just enough for you to get used to the stretch and to the knew (and double) sensation.

« Be a good fucking girl for daddy and let him fuck you from behind, yeah? » He studied your facial expression and the irregular pattern of your breaths to know whether or not you were fond of his new antics, to which you confirmed his doubts by whispering an almost inaudible « Y-Yes, daddy… »

Nonetheless, the elongated moan you let out in his favor once his fingers reached a bit deeper in your rectum was enough for him to get the clue and replace the feeling of his index and middle finger with the width of his length. A pure sound of pleasure with his name written all over it, if you were to ask Bakugou, he would tell you right away that this is what heaven felt like.

« I-I’m going to cum, I can’t-… » Shouto’s hot breath crashed against your equally as hot skin, it became impossible for him to suppress his grunts any longer.

Bakugou mirrored his pace which had suddenly quickened under the pressure erupting in his lower belly, he could already touch the clouds of the seventh sky, and you were the key to unlocking the divine skies of heaven.

« Fuck… Fuck, I’m close too. » Their grunts matched in unison under the melody of your repetitive moans caused by the double pressure.

With one last thrust from both protagonist, you felt two rushes of hot liquids invade your insides as a moan signed their orgasm. That was it, they came undone and touched heaven as they came inside of you, all the pent up pressure in their abdomen had been set free for your greatest pleasure. You rolled your head back on Katsuki’s shoulder, oxygen had become a rarity under the frantic thrusts of the two newfound victims of passion. Once your lungs felt full again, you released an elongated sigh which drained all of your strength in the process.

Bakugou pulled out first, causing you to whimper at the sudden sensation of vacuity replacing the ever so addictive sensation of being filled by the man who held the keys to your heart. As he pulled out, his arms snaked around your middle and he dragged you with him, hot breaths crashing against your blazing skin. Katsuki put your head over his chest while you mustered up the last bits of vigor you could invoke to find shelter in his comforting embrace.

As soon as Shouto evened his breathing pattern, he felt the urge to join you and Katsuki— laying by your side, his arms draped over your waist, he felt at peace with the two most important people in his life, the true definition of perfection to him. Silence came back again, but this time it was comforting, a silence which held all the fierceness of your feelings for one another. A few kisses were planted here and there on your skin as a silent way to show gratitude, but all three of you were absolutely drained because of passion.

« If you’re still feeling cold, I know a fucking way or two to fix this shitty problem, princess. »

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

Hello! So, something that always intrigued me is the concept of “reverse aus,” and I’ve been thinking about that in the context of Cobra Kai for a while now. How do you think it would go down if Demetri was the one to get roped into Cobra Kai? Obviously, I don’t think he would be as into as Eli canonically was (probably due to it becoming a special interest for him), but I’d be curious to hear your take on it. Would Eli end up going to Miyagi-Do like canon Demetri did, or would Demetri and Eli sort of become the new Evil Karate Husbands™️? And possibly, how do you think Demetri and Johnny’s dynamic would go? (I’m just going to awkwardly add that this is cc-tinslebee, coming to you live from my main blog because I don’t think Tumblr let’s sideblogs send asks-)

So this is actually the SECOND ask I’ve gotten about this scenario--Cherry sent in another one!--so I figured I’d give it a stab. Took me a while to work out how I think it would go and how everything would play out different if Demetri and Eli’s roles were reversed, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. I tried to make it more interesting than just “Demetri does all the stuff Eli does and Eli does all the stuff Demetri does.”

Also I lowkey LOVE the idea of Evil Karate Husbands and even though that isn’t the direction this particular AU goes in, I might do a divergent spin-off AU to explore that too??? Because man...the thought of Miguel desperately trying to save his two best friends who have fallen to the dark side...*cries*

Fair warning that this AU is gonna get dark as shit--I fully belive things would’ve gotten equally fucked up between them in a role reverse AU, just, ah...in slightly different ways. A lot of this will not be Happy Times later on, much like their canon relationship XD

OKAY TIME FOR PAIN, LET’S GOOOO

Longboi post so be warned!!!

Season 1

After getting his ass handed to him--for trying to stick up for Eli, no less--Demetri was pissed. Why the hell was he paying some guy to beat him up for daining to have a problem with him bullying his best friend? Going home in a rage, he nearly texted Miguel to tell him he was quitting--but something stopped him just before he hit Send.

He remembered the look on Eli’s face just after Kyler shoved him away. He remembered seeing Eli stiffen when Kyler grabbed him by the chin, practically feeling the terror emanate from his friend’s body. He remembered how completely and infuriatingly helpless he felt.

It certainly wasn’t the first time something like that had happened. But maybe if Miguel was onto something--maybe if karate really could protect him and Eli from the bullies--it could be the last.

Mr. Lawrence (or Sensei Lawrence, as he obnoxiously insisted on being called) hardly let up on bullying Eli. Even at Eli’s request not to call him “Lip” and the pleading of his star student Miguel Diaz himself, the man only seemed to crack down harder--in some sort of twisted effort to “toughen Eli up,” Demetri guessed. Demetri defended Eli every single time, not mincing any words mouthing off at Sensei Lawrence. It got Demetri punched in the face, flipped on the mat, saddled with much harder drills than the rest of the class, but he didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t about to let anyone treat Eli like that, no matter what pain he had to endure for it.

Johnny, meanwhile, is immensely annoyed by this obnoxious, sarcastic kid who just can’t stop running his mouth--but working him twice as hard as the rest of the class is proving to be fruitless in shutting him up. But, Johnny’s finding, Demetri constantly antagonizing him doesn’t have to be a hindrance. Anger like that can be weaponized--the more he provokes Demetri, the more he insults and belittles that Eli kid he’s so attached to, the harder Demetri punches. The quicker he moves when he fights. The stronger he kicks. Johnny sometimes comes home after training covered in nasty bruises, almost entirely from sparring Demetri--they’re enough to make Carmen and Rosa Diaz worry he’s getting jumped on the way home.

One day Johnny takes his ribbing of Eli just a little too far, hoping to get an especially vicious reaction out of Demetri. Eli, pushed to the end of his rope, runs out of the dojo, barely holding back tears. Demetri starts to go after him, but Miguel puts a hand on his arm and stops him, saying they can both check up on him later.

When Demetri finds Eli after practice, Eli’s sobbing. “I can’t do this anymore, Deme. No matter what you say to him, he just keeps picking on me. It never stops.” Demetri winces, because Eli isn’t wrong--Sensei Lawrence really hasn’t stopped bullying Eli at all, and while Demetri was busy letting himself get riled up by it, he didn’t actually think to see how it was affecting Eli. “Well, I know it sucks now, and Mr. Lawrence is a huge asshole, but we’re learning to be tough,” Demetri reasons. “We’re learning to be intimidating. A few more months here, and the bullies will never touch us again! Just like Miguel!” And Eli just scowls, uncharacteristically angry for his timid self, and says “Well, it’s not worth it if I have to feel like shit the whole time! If every time I step in here I get everything about me picked apart, over and over again! I’m done with this, Demetri.”

And just like that, Eli is out of the dojo. Demetri can’t help but be disappointed--he’d looked forward to them training together, and seeing Eli become a badass, fearless fighter who could hand Kyler’s ass to him after all those fucked up things he said to Eli. And to make matters worse, Sensei Lawrence doesn’t stop using Eli as fuel to rip out Demetri’s rage long after Eli’s gone. “Oooh, Loudmouth, feeling sad today? Missing Lip the Quitter?” “You keep throwing punches like that, and you could get beat up by that loser with the fucked lip you were so enamored with. Although knowing you, you’d let him win anyways.” And Demetri can’t help but hate the man, but damn, if it doesn’t feel good to land an especially good hit on him, or jab him in the thigh with a powerful kick.

But things aren’t bad--Demetri still has Miguel, and their new friend Aisha. Eli still hangs out with them outside of practice, and indulges Demetri in his ever-increasing ramblings about martial arts, no matter how nervous and uncomfortable karate tends to make Eli. If Demetri likes it that much, maybe he should make an effort to show interest in it. The four of them crash Yasmine’s birthday party, and Demetri even finds himself smooth-talking them into getting alcohol with his newfound confidence. After all, if he can land punches faster than a snake can strike, how difficult can it be to weasel his way into getting a little beer?

Meanwhile Moon, feeling understandably unfulfilled in her popular clique, takes an interest in the Cool New Karate Gang in town, and after apologizing to Aisha at the beach rager, the two strike up a friendship. She comes to hang out with their group more and more, and Eli finds her surprisingly easy to talk to. Moon constantly makes an effort to include him when the others get to wrapped up talking about karate, and he appreciates her kindness and sincerity. It’s odd, really, how easy it is to have a conversation with her, considering how nervous he tends to get around her. But Eli doesn’t think too much about it.

When it comes time for the tournament, Moon and Eli go together to support their friends. Eli finds his gaze flickering back and forth between Moon and Demetri, lingering on each of them longer than he would care to admit--and he can’t quite explain why. Something about Moon’s wide, excited smile, the smell of cherry shampoo in her hair...but also Demetri’s smug, triumphant smirk when he pulls off an especially impressive move, the way his wiry arm muscles ripple when he fights. They’re both just so...captivating.

Demetri, for his part, is ruthless. Much more so than Eli has ever seen him be. He’s always been sarcastic and cynical, but resigned to his fate--at the tournament, Demetri lashes out in vicious ways the old Demetri would never have had the courage to pull off. He talks shit to the other contestants far beyond what’s considered “sportsmanlike”--and Eli can tell he’s not holding back, with the theatrical body language channeling every awful thing he’s saying.

Demetri fights like lightning--he weaves and maneuvers and strikes at breakneck speed, a limber, flashing form hitting all across his opponent’s bodies before they have any idea what’s happening. He dodges hits and jumps aside like he has some cosmic sense of when and where they’re coming. And it scares Eli, seeing a viciousness and relentlessness in Demetri that he’s never encountered before--but somehow, he finds, he just can’t look away.

Season 2

After the tournament, Demetri’s life has never been better. At the summer’s start, he’s still riding the high of the Cobra Kai tournament win. He didn’t take home the trophy, but suffice to say he got much farther than anyone believed a scrawny, lanky nerd ever would, and he is incredibly smug about it. He realizes, at the end of the day, he’s gotten what he always wanted after all--the bullies don’t come near him and Eli at all, and he can rest easy, knowing Eli is finally safe. However, he’s so busy embracing his new skills that at times, he almost forgets that was ever even an issue. His newfound fighting prowess has caught the attention of Yasmine, of all people--maybe someone who can throw kicks that good isn’t as much of a loser as she originally thought.

She finds out after her family’s plans to go to France for the summer fall through, and she finally patches things up with Moon after their fallout at the beach party. Moon can’t stop gushing about how amazing Demetri was at the tournament--both she and her new friend Eli (who Yasmine definitely thinks seems like a weirdo, but hey--maybe if Moon thinks he’s worth her time, he can’t be that much of a loser) were so impressed with him. Interest piqued, Yasmine joins their little but ever-growing group. She finds herself quickly drawn in by Demetri’s ever-growing confidence, intelligence, and surprisingly enjoyable (if somewhat annoying) sense of humor, and before long, the two are dating.

Yasmine and Aisha are...cool. Kind of. Yasmine doesn’t quite apologize, and the two aren’t friends by any stretch of imagination, but they tolerate each other, and Yasmine refrains from making awful comments and picking on Aisha in front of their friends. Aisha, for her part, does her best not to lash out or be mean to Yasmine either, keeping the peace mainly for Demetri’s and Moon’s sakes.

Meanwhile, it would take an idiot not to notice the rather starstruck looks Eli’s been shooting in Moon’s direction. Moon, for her part, is either entirely oblivious or simply doesn’t even think to consider a shy, timid, nerdy kid as a romantic option, even if she does consider him a friend.

Oddly, Demetri finds himself extremely bothered by Eli’s doe-eyed crush on Moon. He really can’t place why--he has a girlfriend already, so it really shouldn’t bug him so much that Eli is finally growing noticably interested in girls too, now that they tend to be in closer proximity. And it’s not even like Moon seems to be at all interested in reciprocating. Maybe, he figures, it’s the fact that Moon never would have even looked their way if it weren’t for the fact that he and Miguel and Aisha were the “Cool Karate Gang.” The same karate gang, of course, that Eli quit. That Eli didn’t have it in him to fully be a part of. And yet here he is, reaping the benefits still.

Interestingly, Yasmine also seems bothered by Eli’s affections for her friend. Demetri feels her stiffen beside him and sees her shooting disapproving looks whenever she catches Eli staring at Moon. Demetri isn’t sure why she seems to take issue with this too--perhaps she thinks Moon is too good for Eli, and her friend deserves better than a shy, awkward nerd.

Something about this mindset very much rubs Demetri the wrong way, but he pushes the feeling aside. Maybe he should count his blessings instead of being so inwardly critical of his girlfriend. After all, not everyone gets to date the hottest girl in school.

The day of Valley Fest arrives, and Yasmine goes to support her boyfriend. Moon and Eli tag along, eager to support their friends as well. Caught up in the thrill of the blaring music, the bright, flashing lights, the audience cheering, Demetri feels a wave of pride as he looks at his little group of friends that came for him, yelling and whooping and jumping up and down. For some reason, he finds his gaze drawn specifically to Eli, wearing a grin bigger than Demetri’s seen in months and eyes absolutely glowing.

Suddenly Demetri feels an overpowering urge to wrap Eli up in this world he’s fallen in love with, immerse him entirely in the karate that’s made Demetri feel so much more happy and free in the past several months. Grinning, he strides forward and reaches down, using the absurd upper body strength he’s built up since he’s started karate to yank Eli up onto the stage. He hands his best friend a wooden board and steps back, racing forward and snapping it in half with a jumping roundhouse kick. For a few seconds, Eli can do nothing but stare at the broken board, something shifting inside of him.

After that, Eli decides maybe it’s time to give karate another go. Something about the way Demetri positively shone onstage--how genuinely happy all of it seemed to make him--makes him thing it can’t be so bad, even if he does get taunted for his lip again.

He stops by the dojo the following week, gathering up every ounce of courage he has to ask that mean blonde man how he goes about joining the dojo again. He’s hoping against hope that maybe, after all these months of teaching students and a tournament win under his belt, the edge of his pathetic cruelty will at least have been taken off.

No such luck. Upon seeing Eli walk into the dojo, Johnny greets him with “Hey, Lip is back! Real world not treat you as nicely as you thought?” The two are, regrettably, completely alone in the dojo. Eli sucks in his breath--Demetri isn’t around, so if anyone is going to defend him, it’ll have to be him himself.

“Could you please not call me that?” His voice shakes as he says it, but nonetheless, he finishes the statement. It occurs to him that not once in his (admittedly brief) stay in Cobra Kai did he simply...request that Sensei Lawrence not call him Lip. Demetri’s approach was always to get angry about it, go off on the sensei about how wrong it was to mock someone’s appearance, but Eli himself had never been the one to make a case for Sensei Lawrence to treat him better.

It hardly helped. Sensei Lawrence just claimed that if he didn’t want him to call him Lip, he shouldn’t have a freaky lip, and then went on to claim whoever did his cleft lip surgery must have done an awful job. Eli attempted to move away from the topic, but Sensei Lawrence didn’t let up. “It’s hard to when it’s right in front of me. Hard to believe Demetri was so willing to defend you like some knight in shining armor or some shit. You’re pathetic.” Having heard enough, Eli storms out, anger overtaking him. How could he have been so stupid, to think this was going to go any better? Why did he think that just because this man had been willing to help Miguel and Demetri (who were normal) become badass meant he would extend the same treatment to the freak with the lip scar?

Eli calls Demetri in tears. “I don’t know how you can train with someone like him,” Eli spits out. “He’s a shit person, Demetri. I--I don’t know what you and Miguel are thinking. It’s like he gets some kind of...I don’t know, sadistic pleasure out of bullying people. He’s not any better than the people he claims he’s trying to help you fight.”

Demetri, to his horror, reacts only with scorn, scoffing and rolling his eyes. “God, all this drama because he was mean about your lip again? Jesus christ, grow a backbone, Eli. I hate to say it, but I think Mr. Lawrence was right--if you can’t even handle someone making some insensitive comments about your scar, how are you going to handle an elbow to the teeth? Or any training more intensive than a slap on the wrist, anyway?”

Eli can do nothing but just stare at him through the screen. Demetri, the one person who he has always been able to count on to not comment on his scar, the one person who has always comforted him or talked him through it when he cried, is brushing him completely off--being an asshole about the one thing Eli was certain he never would be. Why is Demetri, of all people, not taking his side on this?

All Eli knows for sure is that he doesn’t like this new version of Demetri one bit. What happened to the best friend who was always willing to fight for him, no matter what it took? Now, he seems more concerned with looking cool and tough and upkeeping some kind of ridiculous reputation than Eli’s own well-being.

Over the next few days, a rage he didn’t know he even had in him bubbles up inside Eli. He decides if Demetri’s going to play dirty, so is he. And maybe, if Eli plays his cards right, the old Demetri will come back.

Despite his long-standing frustration with the way adults treat him--delicately, condescendingly, like a Thing of Pity--Eli figures he can get some use out of it for once. If this is the only way they’re going to see him regardless, he might as well use it to his advantage. And so he goes crying to his mom, who he knows for a fact other adults talk about being a “valued member of the community” and probably has some influence and some strings she can pull. He bawls to her about how his best friend has turned into an unrecognizable jerk, all because he’s training with a middle-aged man with the mindset of a high school bully who has no issue verbally abusing his students. Sure enough, discussions are had with the Neighborhood Committee, phone calls are placed, and Eli overhears his mother vowing to shut down that degenerate karate place if it’s the last thing she ever does.

Meanwhile, back at the dojo, Kreese makes an announcement. The elderly, intimidating man has recently teamed up with Johnny to teach--and he gives Demetri the creeps, if he’s honest, but he seems to know his stuff when it comes to karate, so Demetri goes along with this new addition to the sensei roster. However, when Johnny goes off to visit his high school friends and leaves the kids alone with the new Sensei, Demetri can’t help but feel uneasy.

“Now, the dojo’s been getting some concerned phone calls,” Kreese says, arms crossed and expression difficult to read. He doesn’t seem to be angry--if anything, he looks faintly amused. “Parents of the local teenagers are worried. They think Cobra Kai is full of bullies. Think our methods are...abusive, even. They want to shut us down.” Worried murmurs start to echo around the room, but Kreese silences them as he goes on. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t be a problem. I have my ways of talking people down. We know better, anyhow. They’re just...intimidated by us, because we’ve honed skills here they couldn’t even dream of having. But nonetheless...” Kreese smirks in a way that makes Demetri feels ever-so-slightly unnerved. “If you run into one of your little peers whining to your parents about getting rid of us, well...show them Cobra Kai can’t be messed with so easily.”

And suddenly Demetri’s seething, because he knows exactly who made sure those phone calls got made.

Eli, for all his timidness, is notoriously smart. Demetri knows this intimately. He’d hardly put it past Eli to be this cunning, to manipulate the pitying adults around him to get what he wants.

When the Cobra Kai kids take a trip to the mall later that day, Demetri knows exactly where Eli will be. Every Wednesday, a new issue of Dungeon Lord comes out--they used to go get it together, but since getting into karate, Demetri hasn’t been keeping up. Demetri would figure someone like Eli wouldn’t have the balls to go out in public alone, if not for the fact that he knew how invested Eli was in the current plot.

And so Demetri heads to the comic book store, a group of reluctant Cobra Kai “pledges” in tow. Maybe it’s a bit sadistic, but he likes having someone to be able to boss around--it feels nice to be at the top of the food chain for once. Lord knows it’s the first time that’s happened. And if he isn’t going to milk that tournament win for all it’s worth, then what even is the point?

When Demetri arrives, Eli turns to look at him in confusion. “What are you doing here?” he says, lip curling slightly. “I figured you were too tough for this kind of stuff now.”

Demetri just scoffs and crosses his arms. “Well, Mr. Kreese said the dojo’s been getting some calls from weepy parents concerned we’re bullying their poor kids. Saying our Senseis must be some evil, abusive monsters twisting and corrupting the neighborhood teenagers. So I think you know exactly why I’m here.”

Eli just looks at him with a doe-eyed innocence that makes his blood boil. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Demetri advances on him, eyes flashing. “Don’t bullshit me, Eli. I know you’ve been meddling.”

To his surprise, Eli looks up to meet his gaze evenly, pretense of naiveté completely gone. “And what if I have? I don’t like the influence they’re having on you.”

Well, Demetri doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but he doesn’t like it. “What is it about Cobra Kai that’s got you in such a tiffy, huh? You’re jealous I found a way to fight back and actually protect us? You don’t like that I’m not a pathetic loser you can look down your nose at anymore?”

Eli just looks at him in bewilderment. “Jesus, no, that’s not it at all, dude. Just...do you even hear yourself? You’ve turned into such an asshole since you started all that karate shit. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. You walk around thinking you’re hot shit and everyone has to bow down to you all because your dojo won some stupid tournament. Well, news flash, Demetri--nobody cares.”

The callous way Eli, of all people, says it can’t help but throw him off. Is that really what his best friend thinks about him now--that he’s just some arrogant prick strutting around flaunting his success?

And then Demetri remembers how he got here--what it was that pushed him to be such a hard-assed fighter in the first place--and he feels a wave of venom coarse through him so powerful that he nearly chokes on it. Before he knows it he’s grabbing Eli by the shoulders and shoving him up against the wall.

“You fucking ungrateful brat,” he spits out, his words poison. “I did it all for you, you know. Everything I did was so that I could finally protect you. And this is how you thank me? After I’ve been getting my ass kicked over and over again so you wouldn’t have to worry about bullies anymore?”

Eli is surprisingly unfazed. “And where was I when you were learning to be such a good protector, Demetri? Getting shit on as a tool to motivate you? Nobody bothering to check how I felt about that? A real good bodyguard you turned out to be.”

“And yet Kyler and his little posse haven’t bothered you once. Who do you think that’s thanks to?”

“Miguel too. You don’t get all the credit. And anyhow, not like it matters when your Senseis would just as soon take the same cheap shots.”

Demetri just curls his lip. “Don’t get mad at me because you were too weak to survive Cobra Kai. Because...what, a middle-aged karate teacher hurt your feelings? I’d like to see how you go about taking a real fist to the jaw.”

Demetri raises a fist as if to demonstrate. Eli flinches, anger and defiance suddenly completely gone as his eyes widen in horror.

“You’d actually hurt me?” he asks softly.

Demetri slowly lowers his fist, realizing the answer as soon as he sees the terrified look in his friend’s eyes.

“Consider this your warning, Eli,” he spits out, with as much venom as he can manage. “Don’t mess around with Cobra Kai, or things are going to get ugly.” He smirks--a little sadistically, he has to admit. “You saw the tournament. Well...you’d better believe that’s the least of what I can do.”

When a downtrodden Eli shows up at Daniel LaRusso’s front door, timidly requesting to learn karate, far be it from Daniel to turn away a new student. Eli’s sob story about how he’s being bullied and threatened by his best friend only makes the new sensei more determined to take him under his wing--Daniel is no stranger to bullying, after all.

The next time Cobra Kai goes on an outing to the mall, Demetri catches Eli in the food court, eating with Samantha LaRusso and that kid whose ass he kicked at the tournament--Robby Keene, was his name? Mr. Lawrence’s kid. This seems...odd. How would Eli have met them?

An unexpected wave of jealousy rips through him. How did shy little Eli manage to make other friends? Let alone with an ex popular girl, of all people. Nonetheless, he figures this might be a good time to make sure his ex-friend isn’t trying to start any more shit with Cobra Kai.

He catches Eli in the deli line, sliding up behind him and purring, “Oh, I hope you haven’t been poking your nose where it doesn’t belong, have you, Eli?”

Eli turns and glares at him with a venom Demetri didn’t know the other boy had in him. “Why, Demetri? Scared your precious Cobra Kai is going to lose all its coolness cred if it gets out how shitty you all are?”

Demetri seethes with anger again, and before he knows it, he’s shoving Eli out of the line and ramming him up against one of the pillars on the edge of the food court. The crowd of eaters around them “Oooooh”s, but Demetri ignores them. He raises a fist again, fully prepared to follow through this time. “I’d watch your mouth, if I were you.”

Eli just curls his lip, more defiant than Demetri’s ever seen him. “You don’t scare me, Demetri. I know who you really are.”

The Cobra Kai pledges start to loom behind them, ready to provide Demetri with backup if needed. Eli notices and scoffs. “Wow, siccing your goons on me too? Way to set up a fair fight, Demetri. You’re so badass.”

Struck by a sudden desire to prove him wrong, Demetri socks Eli in the jaw before he can think better of it. He pauses afterwards, momentarily shaken by what he’s done.

To his dismay, Eli’s horrified shock is short lived before he laughs darkly. “Well, you’re not the only one who knows karate now. I joined Miyagi-Do.”

Demetri just scoffs. Ah yes, a little karate training and Eli, of all people, is going to kick some major ass. “All right then. Let’s see what you got.” He takes a step back, allowing Eli to try and get a hit in.

When the fight breaks out in full force, it’s vicious. Eli throws the first hit, but it’s weak--he’s out of practice since abandoning Cobra Kai. Demetri has him on the ground in seconds, throwing punches and kicks with a speed and rage he had no idea he had. Eli barely has time to get up before he’s getting his ass handed to him.

What Demetri doesn’t count on is Eli’s new dojomates coming to his rescue, getting the smaller boy behind them and executing a near-perfect synchronized fighting routine. Even with his lackeys helping him, Demetri is completely annihilated--nearly unconscious on the food court floor within minutes. The last thing he sees before he passes out is Eli staring down at him, blue eyes wide with horror.

When word of the incident at the mall gets back to Moon, shit hits the fan--to put it lightly. Yasmine is with Moon when she confronts Demetri, but she doesn’t say anything--just stands glaring with her arms crossed while Moon goes off at him. “How could you treat Eli like that? He’s your friend!”

“Not anymore.” Demetri curls his lip. “He joined Miyagi-Do. He’s made it pretty clear where his loyalties lie now, and it’s not with me.”

“Who cares about Miyagi-Do?” She retorts. “He’s still your friend! Our friend! And I don’t like the way you’re bullying him.”

Demetri scoffs. “Don’t you get it? He’s just a pathetic nerd who can’t handle the fact that I’m cooler than him now. All he wants to do is drag me down to his level again, I guarantee it.”

Moon’s gaze is more poisonous than he’s ever seen it. She turns to Yasmine. “Tell him, Yas,” she says, her tone dangerously quiet.

Yasmine sighs. She says--with notable hesitation, Demetri notices--“If you don’t stop bullying Eli, we’re through.”

Thrown off, Demetri laughs harshly. “What do you care? You don’t even like Eli! I see those...disgusted looks you shoot in his direction, when you think we won’t notice.”

Yasmine bites her lip. “That doesn’t matter. Moon is my best friend. If she’s not okay with this whole...thing, then neither am I.”

“You’re not fucking serious. You’re dumping me because your bleeding-hearted friend told you I wasn’t being nice enough to a guy you can’t stand?”

Yasmine pauses, but ultimately stands her ground. “I’m sorry, but if it’s between you and Moon, it’s going to be Moon. So her word goes. So either stop with this whole stupid feud with Eli, or we’re finished.”

“I...” Demetri can only stare at her, shocked. He never could have imagined getting this ultimatum...and yet here he is.

He must have hesitated a second too long, because Moon grabs Yasmine’s arm and starts to pull her away. “I think that’s all the answer we need,” Moon hisses.

“Wait!” he called helplessly after them. Yasmine turns around once as she walks away, but only to spit “It’s over!” over her shoulder. As if for good measure.

Kreese finds Demetri circling a punching bag in the back of the dojo, spinning around it and throwing kicks and punches faster than cobra strikes. Seizing his opportunity, he advances. “What’s wrong, son?”

Demetri turns, tensing. He’s still wary of the man, but to hell with it--it’s not like he has anyone else to talk to. “Fight broke out with Miyagi-Do, and we lost. Pathetic, I know. Please don’t rub it in.”

“Cheer up.” Kreese smirks. “The fight isn’t over until you say it is.”

Demetri just sighs. “No use going in for a rematch. They’re strong. I couldn’t take them again on my own.”

Kreese’s smirk widens. “You’re a smart kid. There are other ways to fight back, you know. You don’t always have to beat them into the ground.”

As he leaves, Demetri lets that sink in.

Well, Demetri is nothing if not tech-savvy. May as well make some use of that Yelp Elite status. He spends hours setting up dozens of sock puppet accounts, programming them to post terrible review after terrible review blasting everything he can think of about Miyagi-Do. The encouragement of violence in youth (Eli had technically punched first, hadn’t he?). The weak, subpar fighting style that broke down as soon as it was challenged by serious fighters. The pretentious, culture-appropriating sensei. Daniel LaRacist indeed.

During the Coyote Creek excursion, Demetri finds himself pitted against Miguel, fighting in the world’s most intense game of what essentially boils down to Capture the Flag. Demetri, about to get the better of Miguel, finds that he can’t help but gloat about his little online attack. Can’t be long before a one-star dojo goes out of business.

When Miguel seems to take issue with it, saying the whole thing is mean-spirited and over the top, Demetri can’t help but scoff. Miyagi-Do has been plenty clear in declaring war--their little battalion at the mall proved that. Demetri wishes Miguel wasn’t still too caught up in pining over Sam LaRusso to realize that.

Miguel, meanwhile, decides this dojo war of sorts is getting out of hand. It turns out Demetri isn’t the only tech-savvy student in Cobra Kai--Miguel designed their website, after all. With a little bit of basic internet coding and some rudimentary hacking, he manages to access the sock puppet accounts Demetri made and take the bad reviews down. He even goes so far as to go over to the Miyagi-Do dojo and personally apologize for how Cobra Kai has been acting, telling Robby Keene that he found out who blasted the bad reviews and took them all down. “We’re not all assholes.”

Come Moon’s end-of-summer party, Demetri is surprised to get an invitation. He hasn’t seen her or Yasmine since they both chewed him out, and Yasmine ended things. But perhaps this is a show of good faith. Maybe Moon wants to be friends again--and maybe that means Yasmine’s come to her senses too, and might be willing to talk things out.

Moon welcomes him when he arrives, previous animosity gone for the moment. “Hey, thank you for inviting me. I’m...sorry,” he starts. “Of how we left things off. I was an ass to you and Yas.” “It’s alright,” Moon replies cheerily. “I invited you because...well, I’m hoping that before school starts, we can stop all the fighting and be friends again.”

His heart sinks as he sees Sam LaRusso lead a stream of kids through the door, Eli trailing at the end, and he realizes exactly what she means. The Miyagi-Dos are here.

He sits forlornly on a couch with Mitch and Aisha, thinking about how much worse this night just got. He brightens, however, when he sees a shock of blonde hair at the door not long after. So Yasmine came after all.

Moon grins in delight, calling over to her. Taking a breath, Demetri stands up and approaches the two girls, determined to smooth things over with them both.

He’s not surprised to see Yasmine make a beeline for Moon, not noticing him for the moment. What he isn’t expecting is for Moon to sweep Yasmine into her arms, kissing her full on the mouth.

Demetri stops in his tracks. The girls turn to him a few seconds later, seeming to notice him for the first time. They look at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to finish walking over to them. Or say something, and not just stand there gawking stupidly.

“Uh...are you two...um...like...uh...” All he can do is shuffle closer and gesture abstractly, not able to find words. Yasmine blushes and looks away, while Moon tucks a hair behind her ear, her smile strained.

“Yeah. It’s new,” she admits, laughing nervously. “We’re, um...”

“Girlfriends?” Yasmine offers, looking up and smiling at Moon with uncharacteristic shyness. Demetri can’t help but bristle--shyness she never showed him.

Well, far be it from him to be judgmental. Even if Yasmine broke his damn heart just now, Moon is still his friend. He gives them a strained smile. “That’s...that’s great! Happy for you two. No shame in uh...trying out something like that.”

Demetri excuses himself and sulks back to the now-empty couch, mind racing as he sits down. Is that why Moon was trying to encourage Yasmine to break up with him? Was it even about Eli at all? Did Moon just want Yasmine for herself? It seemed unlike Moon, but who could say?

And Yasmine...had she always wanted Moon, too? Is that why she seethed every time she saw Eli shooting lovestruck glances at her friend?

...had she even ever liked Demetri at all, or was he just a cover-up for the fact that she was...lesbian? How was someone as feminine and fashionable as Yasmine a lesbian, anyways? All the lesbians Demetri saw on tv cut their hair boyishly short and had about 5 nose rings and walked around in leather jackets and combat boots.

His thoughts are interrupted by the last sweatered boy he wants to see taking a seat at the other side of the couch, glancing nervously at him with darting eyes. What did Eli want? And why was he so nervous? He’d been unduly bold as of late.

“You seen the new Doctor Who trailer?” Eli mutters.

Something about the nonchalant way he says it--like this is the olden days, when Demetri always felt like shit about himself and had no one who tolerated him but Eli--makes Demetri’s blood boil. He scoffs. “I have better things to do than watch nerd crap like that.”

A short silence. “Capaldi regenerated,” Eli offers finally. “I know you weren’t big on 12.”

No more Capaldi? Demetri turns to look at Eli, interest suddenly piqued.

“What’s the new doctor like?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Eli grins. “She’s a badass.”

“She?” Demetri finds himself grinning back. “How progressive of them. Welcome to the 21st century, Doctor Who.”

A sudden giggling catches his attention, and Demetri looks to where Yasmine and Moon are sharing a chair across the room, tangled up in each other’s arms and trading soft kisses like they don’t have a care in the world. He tenses.

Eli seems to sense his discomfort, and sighs. “Hey, I’m sorry, man. If it helps at all, I liked Moon a lot, too.”

Demetri just scoffs. “Yeah, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. They just have to be gay, right?”

Eli gives him a strange look. Demetri shuffles uncomfortably, realizing what he’s probably thinking about. The...incident, 4 years ago. Demetri glares at him, hoping to banish the thought before it arrives. None of that meant anything--they were just dumb kids. Dumb kids doing dumb shit that didn’t matter.

“I don’t know, I mean...if they’re happy together, shouldn’t we just be happy for them?”

Eli reaches out and squeezes his shoulder, and Demetri hesitates. Their special touch. Eli still remembers, even after everything that’s happened.

For a moment he’s overcome with longing, wishing things with Eli could just go back to how they used to be. Back when he knew no matter what hell he went through at school, Eli would always be there to pick him back up again. But then it sinks in what Eli’s really trying to say.

Be happy for them. What a bunch of Miyagi-Do bullshit. Just accept his sad little lot in life, just like he used to do. Go back to nerdy little Eli at the bottom of the food chain, doomed to spend the rest of his youth admiring pretty girls from a vast distance.

He never wants that to be him again.

“Oh, fuck you, Eli,” he spits, grabbing Eli’s hand and yanking it off of his shoulder. Eli freezes, looking like he’s just been slapped.

“What, so I’m supposed to do like you, moping and pining and hoping a pretty girl will look my way if I wish hard enough and just sucking it up when she doesn’t? Well, I’ve had plenty enough of that--I’ve been on the top. And I’m going to be on the top again. But you? You’ll always be pathetic--you and your entire sorry excuse for a dojo.”

He gets up and walks away, bristling with an anger he can’t even fully place anymore.

As Eli watches Demetri go, he realizes he’s finally had enough. Demetri doesn’t want to patch things up? He just wants to keep being an arrogant shithead? Fine. But Eli’s not about to take his prodding and insults anymore.

Eli makes his way over to Moon--still his friend, despite the unreciprocated feelings--and Yasmine, strikes up a conversation with them. Yasmine, he notices, is being notably nicer to him--probably at Moon’s request. They get to talking about sexualities, and Eli accidentally lets a little something slip about Demetri.

When they were 12 years old, they had kissed. It was Eli who suggested they practiced kissing, to get ready for all the girls they would inevitably date. However, a bit of choice wording and it sounded like Demetri had planted one on Eli out of nowhere...and Eli, of course, hadn’t liked it one bit, because he was totally straight. “You can’t tell anyone, though,” he pleaded the girls, big sad eyes every bit as convincing as he had hoped. “Demetri doesn’t want it to get out that he’s...you know. Gay. He’s worried it’ll ruin his reputation.”

Moon nods sincerely, but Eli can tell from the almost imperceptible smirk on Yasmine’s face that she has other plans. If there’s one thing he’s learned about Demetri’s ex over the last few months, it’s that even trying to be a better person, she can’t resist a good bit of juicy gossip.

And from what Eli gathers...two girls dating? No problem, as long as they’re hot and popular. At least creepy guys can fetishize it. But guys liking other guys? Now that...Eli has a feeling that won’t go over well.

As soon as Eli excuses himself, Yasmine gets to work. A few whispers at the snack table when Moon isn’t looking, and news of Demetri’s supposed orientation spread like wildfire.

Demetri, meanwhile, is determined to prove Eli wrong. So what if Yas doesn’t want him anymore (or never did, the mean voice in his head keeps prodding)? He’ll find another hot girl to have on his arm. He’s a top Cobra Kai fighter, after all--it’s not like it’ll be difficult.

He saunters over to a group of girls, leaning up against the wall in what he thinks has to be a very suave way. “Hey ladies,” he says. “Name’s Demetri. I’m sure you’ve heard about me--seasoned Cobra Kai fighter, finalist in the All-Valley tournament. But no need to be intimidated--if any of you beautiful ladies ever need a hand with anything, I’ll--”

“Take it off of the nearest dick to help us out?” one of the girls cuts him off. They all break out in snickers. “No thanks.”

Demetri freezes. Why would they think...?

Then he realizes there’s only one person who could have made them think he was into that sort of thing.

He tenses. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but--”

“We’ve heard all we need to,” another girl says, eyeing him up in disgust. “Not interested in getting it on with someone who’s probably had his cock up another guy’s ass, to be blunt. Gross.” Before Demetri can say another word, the girls are gone, turning and slinking hurriedly off into the crowd.

Every time Demetri tries his luck with another girl, he gets similar rebuffs. And every time, he seethes a little more. Fucking figured--timid little Eli couldn’t take the fact that Demetri had worked up the confidence to win over a girl and he hadn’t, so he had to ruin Demetri’s chances with every other girl so he’d feel better.

Besides, Demetri remembers that day from 4 years ago. He remembers that Eli was just as into...all the stuff they did.

Unfortunately, before Demetri has a chance to go over and confront Eli about the whole business, the cops show up. He’ll just have to wait until school, he figures.

Meanwhile, word gets back to Sam that Miguel showed up at her door, apologizing and promising he took all the bad reviews down--apparently Robby didn’t relay any of this to her. When Miguel admits to Demetri about the drunken kiss, Demetri chuckles, slapping him on the back. “My man! Trying to build up a whole harem here, are we?”

Miguel sighs, looking sullen. “I cheated, dude. That’s shitty.”

And then comes the PA announcement. Tory Nichols is starting shit, and Demetri can’t pretend he’s not intrigued to see where this goes.

As soon as the fight breaks out, Demetri is overcome with adrenaline. He whips through the crowd, spinning and throwing kicks and punches like explosive flashes. All he can think of is Eli, Eli, little Eli...oh, when he finds him, there’s going to be hell to pay.

And it doesn’t take long--of course Eli is the one who tries to pull a teacher in to stop the fight. The fucking wimp.

When Eli makes a run for it, Demetri can’t help but smirk when he leads him straight to the computer lab. How very typical, for someone whose hero is Steve Jobs. He grins, something frighteningly sadistic bubbling up inside of him.

For a second it almost scares him, how badly he wants to drive his foot into Eli’s chest.

“Little Eli Moskowitz!” he taunts, before he can stop himself. “Cowering away in the computer lab, just like the little nerd he is. Can’t hide forever, outer. I know damn well what you told them about me.”

He tries door after door, continuing in a singsong voice as he goes. “Oh dear me, what would they say if they knew you enjoyed it too, Eli? Well, I guess they won’t believe me now. But I know. I know you’re no better than me.”

Ever since they were kids, Demetri has been the speedier one. They used to race across the playground at recess, pretending to be Quicksilver and the Flash, but Demetri always came out ahead. Long, gangly legs tended to do that. So when Eli turns to see Demetri in the doorway, and he makes a run for it, he doesn’t get far.

Demetri grabs Eli around the waist and throws him against the wall, whipping kicks and hits into his stomach and thighs faster than he can block. Demetri hardly notices the bruises forming, or the bleeding cuts.

It’s then that Eli does something Demetri doesn’t expect--flips the script, as it were. As Demetri reaches out to strike again, Eli surges forward and grabs him by the shoulders, flipping him around and pinning him against the wall. Maybe Miyagi-Do specializes in defense, but they still taught him how to throw a good hit or two. He throws defense to the wayside and starts raining punches down on Demetri--sloppy, uncoordinated, but something the “Strike First” Cobra Kai student is entirely unprepared to defend.

When his chest is stinging and his head throbbing, Demetri can’t take anymore. Eli was a lot more...well, powerful than he expected. At his first opportunity, he turns and books it. Maybe this isn’t a fight he can win after all.

Eli doesn’t chase. As angry as he still is at Demetri, he can’t stop thinking about the mars and bruises and cuts that appeared across Demetri’s face and skin as he punched him, mirroring his own, and he feels sick. He can’t hurt Demetri anymore, no matter what Demetri thinks of him now.

Demetri just makes it to the staircase when he sees Miguel motionless on the floor, Robby Keene looking over the railing. Sam LaRusson hovering over him. He runs to Miguel’s side, world crumbling around him.

Turns out he showed mercy, just like Mr. Lawrence always said to. And look where it got him. When John Kreese offers him a place in a new Cobra Kai, determined to make the Miyagi-Dos pay for hurting Miguel, Demetri isn’t about to say no.

In his grief, it seems like the only option.

Season 3

On the first day back at school, Mitch is quick to remind Demetri that there are other girls in the world besides Yasmine. Surely it won’t be too hard to work his charms on some of the freshmen--after all, word about that little incident with Eli when they were 12 can’t have gotten across the entire school, can it?

“Well, hello, ladies!” he purrs to a passing group, leaning against the wall in the most nonchalant way possible. “Welcome to West Valley High. I know freshman year can be intimidating, high school classes and new people and all, but if you ever need help with anything, I’m--”

“--the scrawny little gay kid who ran his pussy ass away from the world’s easiest fight?” one of the girls finishes scornfully. “Yeah, we know.”

As they walk away, he notices one shoot a flirty smile at a passing Eli, surrounded by his squad of Miyagi-Do losers. “Ooooh, you’re famous now, E!” he hears Chris say, and his blood boils all over again.

Ah. So everyone knew about Eli’s little triumph.

Mitch saunters over, and Demetri follows his lead. “Got something to say?!” he snaps.

Demetri’s eyes lock with Eli’s, and he glowers down at him. Eli’s face is tight, expression almost...sad.

Not like he’d expect anything less from that little crybaby.

“Oh, little Eli,” he chides. “I’d like to see you try and hide behind security.”

“I don’t need to,” Eli mutters, not breaking eye contact.

“Everything all right here?”

At the sound of the counselor’s voice, Eli does something unexpectedly bold. He sidles up to Demetri’s side and presses into it, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “No, Counselor Blatt, we’re all friends here!” he says, offering that shy little Eli smile that made every adult in a nearby vicinity go mad with protectiveness.

Eli’s arm is tight around his neck--like a chokehold. But, Demetri notices after a few moments, it’s shaking--the grip almost frantic. Like he’s scared of when he’ll have to let go.

Odd.

Demetri turns, and his and Eli’s eyes lock. He tries to give the shorter boy the most intense, seething glare he can under his forced smile, but Eli returns the look with equal intensity. Demetri jostles his backpack his backpack and thumps him on the chest, feeling an odd compulsion to touch his old friend right back.

Maybe he missed feeling Eli’s body underneath him. But that wasn’t a thought he could afford to spend a lot of brainpower on right now. “Yeah!” he says. Of course we’re still friends! Of course you didn’t fuck up my love life and humiliate me to the entire school because you couldn’t handle the fact that I was getting some and you weren’t!

When the counselor chides them about having somewhere to be, Eli just nods, murmuring, “Yeah, of course, Counselor Blatt. Sorry.”

As Eli pulls away, he pats Demetri’s shoulder a couple times. Small, almost imperceptible, but there.

Demetri can’t tell if it’s serious--if Eli still cares--or if it’s just a cruel mockery of their old touch. He’s not sure he wants to know.

When Demetri runs into Samantha LaRusso in the hospital and she insists she wants to help, he hardly expects a whole fucking fundraiser gleefully using Miguel as their poster child. As though the Miyagi-Dos weren’t the ones who put him in the hospital in the first place. When he catches a glimpse of the carwash while driving Mitch to practice, he decides he’s going to do something about it.

Beating up the kid is an easy fight, getting the money with Mitch and the others a sinch. Maybe at some point he would’ve felt bad for this--pummeling some short kid and then taking his charity money. But all he can think of is Miguel, his best friend, lying in a white gown and hooked up to wires. Because of this kid and his stupid “peaceful” dojo.

Peaceful, Demetri’s ass.

When Demetri walks into the cafeteria the following Monday, he’s not sure what he expects to see at Yasmine and Moon’s table, the place where he would be sitting, under different circumstances--but it definitely is not Eli Moskowitz with his hair dyed bright blue and spiked up. Miyagi-Do blue. Apparently all that coolness cred he felt he got from “scaring” Demetri off in the school brawl has gotten to his head, and he’s playing out his new “badassery” up to 11. He’s showing something to Yasmine and Moon, and they’re smiling and giggling. Yasmine, of all people, is smiling at nerdy little Eli’s antics.

Demetri squints, and sees that Eli’s showing the two girls a comic book--he recognizes the copy. It’s Eli’s limited edition Captain Marvel comic book, signed by Kelly Sue DeConnick herself. Demetri remembers standing in line with him at a con to get it a few years back--he’s pretty protective of the thing.

And now he’s using it to impress girls? Because apparently Yasmine and Moon are into that kind of thing? Oh, but of course Yasmine couldn’t be into nerd shit when DEMETRI was dating her, could she?

And those gooey eyes Moon is giving Eli, her little giggles--Demetri doesn’t like them one bit. What, now Eli’s worth her affections--now that his “nerdiness” is cool? Aren’t she and Yasmine a stupid item, anyways?

Deciding he’s going to put a stop to this, Demetri saunters over, lunch tray clutched so hard his knuckles are turning white. Before the group can react to his presence, Demetri picks up his chocolate milk carton and dumps it all over Eli’s stupid blue hair, making sure to get plenty on the rare comic book in front of him.

“Oh, I hope that wasn’t important, was it Eli?” he taunts, voice thick with mock sympathy. “That sure would be a shame.”

Eli turns to look at him, eyes wide with heartbroken shock. For a moment, the anger doesn’t set in.

“I had to wait in line 5 hours to get that,” he says quietly. “You know that.”

“Sure do.” Demetri smirks. “And it took all of 5 seconds to completely ruin. How tragic.”

Eli tenses, eyes darting around for a couple seconds. Demetri starts to walk away, his point made, when he feels an iron grip on his wrist. He turns to see Eli smirking at him, clutching his arm with more force than he ever thought possible from the once-timid boy.

“Careful there, Demetri,” Eli sneers. “Coming all the way across the cafeteria to bother me when you’ve got your cool Cobra Kai friends to hang out with? People might think you’re a little...obsessed with me.” Yasmine and Moon snicker, and Demetri bristles as he realizes the implication.

“Although I shouldn’t be surprised since you love obsessing over other boys, don’t you?” Eli goes on, like his point isn’t clear enough. “Y’know, I feel bad for Yasmine. I mean, any idiot could tell she used you as a beard, but I had no idea it was a mutual thing.”

Demetri tenses, willing himself not to lose his cool. “Really letting that little victory get to your head, aren’t you, Eli? Honestly, I was going easy on you. Now I know not to next time.”

It’s at that moment that Sam LaRusso decides to show up, sliding up next to Eli and glowering up at Demetri. “There won’t be a next time if I have anything to say about it,” she retorts.

Demetri can’t help but scoff. Of course Sam LaRusso would be all too eager to defend her little pet nerd now, even though she was all too happy to laugh at him with her mean girl friends a year ago. “I’m not scared of you,” he says. “Like you’d start any fight daddy couldn’t bail you out of. Or that doesn’t end with your ex boyfriend getting thrown over a railing because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

It’s a low blow, but Demetri doesn’t care. It’s hard not to look at this girl and see part of the reason Miguel might never be able to walk again.

Sam LaRusso shoves him just as the godawful counselor is sauntering over, but to hell with it--maybe Demetri could spin this to his advantage.

“She hit me, Counselor Blatt!” he cries out, pointing at Sam. “Attacked and physically assaulted me, completely unprovoked!”

“That’s not true,” Eli mumbles, eyes darting. Flawlessly slipping back into the poor little Eli role in a way that never fails to make Demetri seethe. “It wasn’t unprovoked. He started all this by destroying my limited-edition comic book for no reason.”

Demetri puts on his most convincing remorseful face and sighs. “Look, that was an accident. I just tripped while I was walking and my milk spilled. Anyhow, if your book’s that valuable, you probably shouldn’t bring it into a school cafeteria where people are more than likely going to spill food on it.”

He’d like to see the dumb counselor argue with that.

“Look, I don’t want excuses. I just want you all to respect each other.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Demetri turns to give Eli a forced smile. “Nothing but 100% respect in this environment going forward, I assure you. Sorry if we caused any problems.”

Please, just anything to make her leave.

With one last warning to Sam LaRusso, the counselor is gone. Demetri turns to the two Miyagi-Dos and smirks.

“To hell with respect,” he sneers. “Your lot hardly deserve it.”

It doesn’t surprise Demetri when Eli and his little gang of Miyagi-Do losers decide to start shit in gym class. What he isn’t expecting is for Eli and his stupid blue hair to start running next to him--right after he’s tried and failed to catch Yasmine’s attention after scoring a goal.

He’s been thinking about her all morning--was Eli right about her? Did she only use him as a cover-up?

...would no one ever want to date him for him?

Well, maybe if he won Yasmine back, he could disprove that. If Moon was going to be hanging off of Eli’s arm before too long, chances were her and Yasmine’s relationship’s days were numbered.

Whatever Eli is about to say, Demetri can already tell it’s not going to help.

And it doesn’t. “Wow, Demetri. Few guys are so bad in a relationship that they manage to turn their girlfriend gay. I hope you feel accomplished.”

Demetri balls his fists. “Say that again. I dare you.”

“You really did have a good thing going with her,” Eli sighed, voice laced with condescending pity. “It’s a shame she decided she could do better than some belligerent Cobra Kai douchebag.”

And then suddenly Eli lunges for him and tackles him, knocking him to the ground just as easily as Demetri once did to Eli at the mall.

Not that it ended up mattering all that much--Demetri was able to talk the Cobra Kai’s way out of trouble in the principal’s office, just as he so often could. Nonetheless, it seemed Eli was hardly turning out to be as much of a pushover as he thought.

When Mitch and the guys invited Demetri to go to Golf N Stuff--fuck around for a bit, cause some mayhem--he wasn’t about to say no. The thrill took over, running around, snatching tickets and prizes away, throwing them in the trash--he almost felt as powerful as Kyler must have, all those months ago when he tossed the lesser kids’ backpacks in the garbage. Is this how it felt, to be on top? To have everyone else too scared to mess with you?

Because Demetri loved it.

What he wasn’t counting on was Sam LaRusso and her little posse arriving to confront them in the laser tag arena--including Eli, face hardened and ready to fight.

Things seemed to be going pretty poorly--that was, until Tory Nichols and the backup arrived. That reduced Sam LaRusso to a sniveling mess, and finally it looked like this would be an easy finish.

Demetri found himself only stalling for a second when the way cleared for him to go at Eli. Something about the sudden terror on the other boy’s face made him hesitate, but not for long. Eli threw a weak punch, and Demetri quickly flipped him onto the ground, pulling his arm up behind him.

“No, please, stop, Deme, stop! It’s me!”

Deme...

Eli’s old nickname for him.

Demetri pauses, and suddenly he feels sick. Deme...Eli’s nickname. Eli.

Wasn’t all of this for Eli? To protect Eli?

And now here he was, about to hurt him. The one thing he swore he was going to stop everyone else from doing.

And then comes the goading cries from Tory, Mitch, and the others. Do it! Finish him! He deserves it!

He deserves it.

And then Demetri remembers what happened to Miguel when he didn’t take his chance to finish the fight with Robby Keene. Suddenly Demetri’s running out of the end of a hallway again, seeing Miguel’s motionless body lying on the stairs, and the rage and horror and mind-numbing devastation hit him all over again.

“Demetri, finish him!”

In a split second, Demetri makes his decision. Eli’s arm snaps in half.

All it takes is one terrible, pained scream from Eli for Demetri’s entire world to come crashing down on him. What the fuck did he just do?

He can’t even hear the other Cobras, gleefully congratulating him and sneering at the “pussy” on the floor. All he can hear are Eli’s pained sobs.

He’d seen Eli cry before, but never like this. Never thanks to him.

When everyone congratulates him next practice, Demetri barely hears. He’s just numb. All he can see is Eli, curled up and crying on the dirty cement floor. When Tory tells him she didn’t think he was going to do it, all he can manage out is that Miyagi-Do had it coming for hurting Miguel.

And as if his week can’t get any worse, here come Kyler and his goons sauntering into the dojo like they own the damn place. Demetri does his best to convince Mr. Kreese this is by no means a wise idea, but the sensei will not hear of it.

When Kyler and Brucks realize who he is, it only makes Demetri more livid. “Oh shit, it’s the yogurt backpack kid! Lip’s little friend! I thought he moved away!” When a fighting ring is formed, giving the new recruits a chance to “earn their spot,” Demetri is all too ready for combat.

He’s horrified at how quickly Brucks takes down Mitch, how quickly his friend is ushered out the door. It was bad enough to see Bert go, but this...this is different.

He can’t remember the last time he’s felt more alone.

When Kyler steps forward, looking for an opponent, Demetri volunteers before anyone else can. Mr. Kreese shoots him a surprised look, but he doesn’t care. This fucko has been making his life hell for years--he can already tell this is going to be therapeutic.

Demetri doesn’t hold back. The fight has barely started before Kyler’s had enough. A few fast hits and his lip’s already bloody, and he’s backing away. “No...please stop...”

And suddenly Demetri’s back in the library, on that afternoon that seems like an eternity ago, watching Kyler grip Eli by the throat. Hearing him sneer “who would ever want to kiss THAT shit?” like Eli was the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen. Feeling absolutely powerless, hand clutching the back of a chair as he burned with rage that had nowhere to go.

Well, he wasn’t powerless now.

And before he knows it Demetri has Kyler pinned to the ground, landing punch after punch to his face. Because, he realizes, at the end of the day, who gives a fuck if Eli’s on the other side?

That’s still his Eli, even after everything. The same Eli he stood by for over 10 years, the same Eli who he wished so long that he could protect from everything, the same Eli who felt like he had to constantly hide a tiny red line on his face because his peers collectively decided--for no good reason at all--that it was ugly.

And maybe he couldn’t make those people hurt the way he wanted to then, but right now...well, he could hurt at least one. And that was enough.

He doesn’t stop until Kyler is practically pulverized and his hands are drenched in blood. After throwing his last punch, he smirks, leaning down to whisper into Kyler’s ear.

“Now who’d want to kiss THAT shit? That’s right, asshole--I remember.”

Demetri kicks Kyler’s limp form as he walks away. He shoots Brucks a glare as he falls back in line--just for good measure.

When Miguel comes back to school, Demetri’s one of the first to greet him at the door. “Cobra Kai’s still going strong! It’s going to be great to have you back!” He’s a little confused as to why Miguel seems so hesitant, but he doesn’t worry too much about it--they can sort through all that later.

Miguel’s certainly taken aback by the clunky cast he sees on Eli’s arm when he runs into him in the hall--but perhaps even moreso by the fact that he has both shamelessly dyed his hair blue and spiked it up in a mohawk and is currently walking the school hallways with Moon on his (unbroken) arm. As it turns out, once word got back to Moon that Yasmine was the one who had shamelessly whispered around the school about Demetri being gay, she had broken things off with her. And, with his new “coolness” upgrade, she’d taken quite a liking to Eli.

Not like she had any way of knowing he’d been planning on Yasmine’s cruel gossip, after all.

But the cast, Miguel quickly learns, has a much darker backstory than anything he could have expected.

He wastes no time confronting Demetri about it in the lunchroom. “I heard what happened with Eli. How could you do that?”

Demetri’s stomach clutches. He scowls, determined not to show his discomfort.

“Wow!” He scoffs. “We go to all the trouble of getting payback on those assholes for getting you thrown over that railing, and this is the thanks we get?”

Miguel shakes his head, horrified. “Dude, who cares what dojo Eli’s in? He’s our friend! And in any case, it’s not his fault what happened to me. What the hell were you thinking?”

I don’t know. I don’t know. Demetri’s face hardens. He can only imagine how angry Mr. Kreese would be with him if he caught him showing any kind of weakness. Any kind of second-guessing.

But he can’t help it. Glimpsing Eli in that cast for the first time...

“Look, the Miyagi-Dos were the ones who picked a fight with us,” Demetri retorts. “We just had to do what we had to so they’d back off and leave us alone. We had to finish the fight.”

Miguel pauses, looking pained. “This isn’t...this isn’t you, Demetri. You’re letting Kreese get in your head. He’s trying to manipulate you, get you to...obsess over revenge so you’ll hurt people. But I know you, and I know you don’t want to. Eli, or anyone else.”

Demetri clenches his fists. “What would you know about how I feel about Eli?”

“Look, I can’t claim I know what’s going on between you two,” Miguel amends. “But you have to believe me--Kreese is dangerous. He’s using you. He doesn’t care about you, Demetri. Just...come to Sensei Lawrence’s new dojo. Please. Things can be like they used to. You don’t have to be in this...this war.”

This gives Demetri pause. “He...made a new dojo?”

Okay, so he’s still not Mr. Lawrence’s biggest fan--the man is an asshole at the best of times. But to be able to train with Miguel again...to be able to be badass without being expected to be some soldier...

He can’t finish speaking before Brucks’s voice rings out through the cafeteria. “Look everyone, Lip’s got a dick in his hand!”

Demetri looks up to see Eli being held by the cast, eyes darting around as the entire cafeteria bursts into laughter. Involuntarily, Demetri bristles.

And there it is again, that feeling of being the helpless kid in the library as Eli’s taunted. And even after all this time...he still hates it.

Miguel turns to him, shaking his head. “So these are your friends now? I thought you were better than that.”

And just like that, Miguel’s gone. Gone from the Cobra Kai table, gone from Demetri’s life.

It makes him wonder if he’s making a huge mistake. But he knows he can’t back out now--not when he’s this far in. Who would even want to take him back? Probably not Miguel and Mr. Lawrence--despite what Miguel said, Demetri knows there’s no way he’s going to forgive him so easily for hurting their other friend. And certainly not Eli.

What makes it even worse is seeing Eli later that day, curled up against some lockers with Moon. Moon is tracing over his cast in colored sharpie, slowly transforming the dick pic into a beautiful landscape and night sky. Eli is bragging about how the arm-breaking didn’t hurt that bad.

Demetri remembers when that soft little smile was reserved only for him, and a pit starts to form in his stomach.

Well, no use bitching. You did this to yourself.

It seems like the world is out to just make Demetri’s existence in Cobra Kai as shitty as possible these days. Mitch and Bert are gone, Miguel isn’t coming back, Brucks is being a royal douchebag like always, and perhaps worst of all, Robby Keene shows up at the dojo. Demetri tries his damndest to appeal to Mr. Kreese about how outrageous this is--this is the kid who paralyzed Miguel in the fucking first place, what’s the point of dojo-wide revenge if they just take in the main culprit like an old buddy? But of course Mr. Kreese spouts some nonsense about how they need all the help they can get for the All-Valley, and sometimes you have to be allies with people you aren’t the biggest fans of, blah blah blah. To make matters worse, Tory--not a friend exactly, but probably the closest thing Demetri’s got to one left--is getting far too chummy with Robby for Demetri’s taste.

Maybe Demetri’s insane, but it seems like more and more ridiculous shit is being handwaved in the name of...what? Winning a karate tournament? Getting revenge for a kid who’s already recovered, and doesn’t even seem to want it?

When word gets back to Cobra Kai that Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang are teaming up, Kreese sends the students on a special mission: Show the other dojos that even with their combined forces, they’re no match for Cobra Kai. It seems like a waste of time to Demetri--why antagonize other dojos just minding their business? It’s not like there was anything worth fighting for in this dumb war anymore, considering Miguel was on his feet again (literally AND figuratively). Nonetheless, Demetri finds he’s itching for a good fight--it’s been way too long since he’s charged into a full-fledged battle.

Maybe this will help him get it out of his system, if nothing else.

When the fight breaks out at the LaRussos, it doesn’t take long for Demetri to be overtaken by the thrill of it. Just like he was at the school fight. Just like he was at the tournament. He’s zipping through the house, landing kicks and punches left and right. And it feels good. With everything having been so awful lately, he can’t remember the last time he’s felt more alive.

And then he lands a fierce kick, and Brucks chest-bumps him. “Hell yeah! kick some ass! Dumb losers never had a chance.”

Brucks. The same kid who laughed when he saw Eli starting to cry about the comments he made on his lip. The same kid claiming Kyler tossing his backpack into a yogurt-filled trash can was “brute.” And now here he was trying to be buddy-buddy with him.

Everything comes crashing down on Demetri at once.

Miguel’s speech, saying Kreese is manipulating him. Saying Kreese doesn’t care about him. Kreese cherry-picking what does and doesn’t count as vengeance--hurting Eli, someone who had nothing to do with Miguel’s fall, does, but teaming up with the kid responsible for said fall apparently does not. Demetri’s friends being booted from Cobra Kai one by one, just for not being strong enough.

The sound of Eli’s screams and sobs in a dark laser tag room.

Miguel was right, wasn’t he? Kreese never cared about getting payback for him. He only cared about starting a war for his own sadistic pleasures.

Demetri hears grunting and whimpering, and he looks up to see two of the other Cobras kneeing Eli in the chest over and over. Pinning him into an arm bar.

“Yo, ‘Mete!” one calls out. “Free shot!”

Eli looks up, gaze full of fear and pain. Bright blue irises glinting with welling tears.

Once upon a time, Demetri made a promise to himself that he would stick with karate, aggravating as it may be, so he would never have to see that look on Eli’s face again. It’s time, he figures, that he finally made good on that.

His face contorts into a snarl, and he runs to Eli. Eli closes his eyes and scrunches his face, bracing for a pain that never comes.

Demetri kicks one Cobra to the wayside and smashes the other into a glass table with perhaps more force and adrenaline than he’s used all night.

When he turns to Eli, the other boy backs away, eyes still wide with terror. Demetri feels sick to his stomach, and the tears come before he can stop them.

“God, Eli, I’m so sorry,” he splutters. “I’m so fucking sorry, for everything. I don’t know what I was thinking, and it was all so fucked up, and--”

“Demetri.”

“--I’ll never hurt you like that again, but if you don’t want anything to do with me now, I totally understand, and--”

“Demetri.”

“--I was so awful to you, and I didn’t listen to you, and I should’ve been there for you, and I’m such a piece of shit friend and--”

“DEMETRI!”

Finally Eli raises his voice enough that Demetri pauses. “...yeah, Eli?”

“Please stop talking. I forgive you. Now are you going to shut up and help me finish this?” He raises a hand, as if to initiate their old handshake. An olive branch.

Demetri grins so wide he thinks his face is going to break, and he grips Eli’s hand like a lifeline. Something to finally pull him out of the darkness. “Yeah.”

They’re a lethal fighting team. Between Demetri landing speedy hits and Eli protecting him and shielding them both with his bulked-up form (where did he get all that muscle? Demetri wonders), they dispatch half the Cobras in minutes. Whatever rush Demetri was feeling fighting when he first got here is nothing compared to fighting with Eli.

When they stop the fight between Tory and Sam, Tory wastes no time voicing her disdain for the ex-Cobras. “You’d better watch your back,” she spits at Demetri, and he feels a chill run through him. Turns out this girl is terrifying when she’s not fighting on your side.

Eli intercepts her as she leaves, staring her down defiantly in a very un-Eli-like manner. “You’d better watch yours,” he growls. “Touch him, and I’ll end you.”

Demetri glances over in surprise. When did Eli get so bold?

Well...he thinks he could grow to like it.

Season 4 (because fuck it)

Demetri is hardly expecting Mr. LaRusso and Mr. Lawrence to forgive him, never mind let him into their new dojo. But life has a lot of pleasant surprises in store for him, it seems, after the shitshow it recently put him through. It’s also possible Eli (and maybe Miguel too) but in a good word for him.

Demetri can’t stop apologizing to Eli. Seemingly every day, he finds a new thing to apologize for. Eli gets aggravated with it before long, having to reassure Demetri at least 50 separate times that he forgives him for everything. Nonetheless, Demetri refuses to stop--because he’ll never stop being sorry.

Or trying to find new ways to make it up to Eli. Going easy on him during sparring. Buying him lunch after practice. Helping him perfect some of the most badass Cobra moves.

Things end between Eli and Moon. Eli can’t fully elaborate on why--he just tells Demetri something didn’t feel quite right. The spark died out, like Demetri’s adrenaline rush slowly seeping away toward the end of a fight. That, and, Demetri gathers, something seems to have been distracting Eli from his girlfriend as of late.

Most likely the approaching, high stakes All-Valley. Karate is Serious Business, as they’ve both embraced now.

Rumor has it Yasmine and Moon are trying again, Yasmine realizing for seemingly the first time how awful she’s really been and making an effort to be better. Moon makes her want to be better--more than Demetri ever did, he realizes. And maybe that’s okay--he and Yasmine probably just weren’t right for each other.

Then one day, after yet another one of Demetri’s long-winded apologies, Eli offers something other than an exasperated. “It’s okay. Seriously.” There’s a pause before Eli quietly says “I’m sorry too.”

“For what?” Demetri blurts out, baffled. Everything Eli’s done has paled in comparison to his own atrocities.

“For outing you,” Eli says simply. “That was fucked. And it wasn’t my place, even if I was mad at you.”

“It’s all right.” Demetri shrugs. “You were right, anyways.”

Eli gives him a strange look. “I was?”

“Yeah, I mean...” Demetri laughs dryly. “I don’t...like girls. I pretended I did, because I felt like I was supposed to. That’s what people expect you to do when you’re a top athlete and all that. But dating Yasmine, chasing other girls, it always felt...empty. Like I was just acting out a role in a play or something. And at the end of the day, I think...” He pauses. “I think I was always looking at you.”

Because the last few months have made him realize something. Training with Eli, teaching Eli how to protect himself, watching Eli step up and defend him from the mistrusting stares and the scornful whispers...

Just how much of the person he’s become is thanks to wanting to protect Eli. The fact that that was always how all this started.

“I love you,” he blurts out, before he can stop himself. “I know I did a shitty job of showing it, and I know you were with Moon and you’re not like that, but I need you to know, and I understand if you don’t feel--”

Eli cuts him off with a fierce kiss, pinning him up against the dojo wall with unexpected aggressiveness.

When Eli pulls away, he’s smiling softly. The same smile he gave Moon in the hall as she drew on his cast--the smile that’s once again all Demetri’s.

“I love you too,” he murmurs. “Why do you think I broke up with Moon? Every time I was with her...I couldn’t stop wishing it was you. She’ll never know me like you do.”

And Kreese had better look out because Miyagi Fang’s next big power couple is a force to be reckoned with--the snarky, frighteningly fast-attacking ex-Cobra, and the buff, blue-mohawked Miyagi-Do with more inner peace than anyone would expect.

SOME RANDOM SIDENOTES ABOUT THIS BECAUSE I DIDN’T FEEL LIKE PUTTING THIS ALL IN THE TAGS

~I’m sorry if anyone is OOC in this--I know Johnny is kind of a fuck, but he genuinely WAS pretty crappy to Eli at first and who knows if he would’ve treated him any better if he didn’t “flip the script”??? ~Dark/Evil Demetri is so fun but also so awful to write--I hope you like him being an absolute fuck because the Corruption Arc is REAL ~Yes, I DO in fact fully believe Demetri would go on a crazed revenge quest just like Eli/Hawk did out of his grief for Miguel--the boy absolutely loves Miguel and arguably would want vengeance as much as Eli if their roles were swapped!!! Because Demetri cares about Miguel SO FUCKING MUCH even if it’s not as obvious as it is with Eli but that’s a rant for another post ~I included YasMoon because fuck it, I thought it’d be interesting. That and, unlike the Cobra Kai writers, I am not at all afraid of what conservative audiences will say, so I am not afraid to make things as gay as possible. ~There’s a good chance I swapped Kyler and Brucks’ places near the end solely so I could have Demetri beat the fuck out of Kyler because I just really need that ~Yes, even without formally becoming “Hawk,” Eli could learn how to be a conniving manipulative little shit if he wanted to be. Look at some of the shit he pulls with the counselor in canon Season 3!!! Boy sure as hell knows how to play the victim. ~Honestly not sure if being outed as gay is better or worse than being outed as a bed-wetter, but I had to think of something that would pack the same kind of emotional punch. In Eli’s feeble defense, the West Valley High kids don’t seem like the types to be like...especially violent against queer kids (otherwise NO WAY would Moon and Piper have been able to be that open about their relationship), they’d just be assholes about it. So Eli wasn’t putting Demetri in legit danger here so much as just opening him up to a lot of ridicule. Which is still fucked, but hey, I DID warn you this would be kind of fucked up XD ~Maybe short, concise apologies work for Eli, bUT NOT FOR DEMETRI THE RAMBLER ~Dark Demetri chasing Eli through the school like a goddamn serial killer = 10/10 gave myself a big Spook writing ~Yes, Eli does still have (and always had) his “Hawk” traits, even without the formal “transformation.” I just think his “Hawk” side would be a little more subtle and subdued if he were in Miyagi-Do, but it’s still there for sure.

[daisies-write]

And he said “nope” - Part 2

Deal with the Devil

Hisoka x weak!reader; soulmate AU

Ok so we decided to go with a light and fun story! I suppose it isn’t what’s expected of a Hisoka x reader but with Ari we had so much fun imagining different scenarios where both are forced to work together, it just started to take life on it’s own! I hope it won’t be disapointing for you and that you’ll like this serie as much as we do! @kuuredere​

-Yasu

Previous chapter / Next chapter

TW: none

Writer: Both of us ! (Ari and Yasu)

Word count: 1965

    This is how your "contract" began with Hisoka, with one simple deal: to continue with your life without being disturbing each other, as if you two never met. You would never work together anyway. You had morals and Hisoka was… Hisoka.

    But strangely, since then your life had seemed to take an ominous decline and you were starting to wonder if the Universe had something to do with it. Too much had happened in too little time: losing your car, having your apartment infested with cockroaches, and finding out that your partner might be having an affair. Well… it couldn't be worse, after all.

    " You are fired. "

Ah. It could, actually.

    You were sitting on a bench somewhere in a park, with a big box full of your things lying at your feet, trying somehow to reach your partner on the phone. After the fifth call, you gave up. They must have been busy ...

    You clapped your hands over your eyes, sighing loudly, twisting in your head everything you could do to find a job that paid as well as your last but there were very few options and the remaining ones didn't appeal to you one bit. You weren't desperate enough to striptease yet, that's for sure, and going back to babysitting was a big no.

    "Maybe they were right in the end," you mumbled in your despair. “I'm not meant to be a Hunter and I'm not made for the big city.” A sad chuckle escaped your lips. “A real little peasant, haha. "

    As if trying to mock you, the sun and the sky were extremely bright that day. Or maybe it was to support you...

    " Well! I got this! I will not be discouraged for so little! "

    You got up on your feet, determined, and then sat down again almost instantly.

    "I have nowhere to sleep."

    You expressed yourself with yet another long sigh. If only you hadn’t met this Hisoka, if only you hadn’t gone to see that damn battle at Heaven Arenas with your friends, if only you had said no, your life surely would have just as chill, like it used to. Seeing in color was fun but not necessary.

    "I don't like pink," you thought as you saw a kid make a big bubble with his chewing gum.

    "My, it looks like my kitten is doing badly ~," said a voice you recognized all too well.

    Slowly turning your head to the side, you could finally confirm your fears: Hisoka was looking at you with a big smile, a hand on his cheek and mocking eyes.

    "Hey, Satan," you answered instinctively.

    He laughs at your words.

    "I’m pretty sure I’m even worse, but thank you nonetheless."

    “Go away. I don’t have time to mess with you. And like, don’t you have a fight today?”

    Hisoka shrugged.

    “The guy isn’t worth my time, that’s all.”

    “So you thought about stalking me?”

    “I thought about watching children play but I found you like you would find a wart,” he said nonchalantly.

    You just started at him, genuinely creeped out.

    “Get out of here, pedo.”

    He laughed again.

    “Make me.”

     “The sexual innuendo of this sentence is way too big so you better stop using it unless if you want to bang me,” you said, unphased. “But there’s a hint: you ugly.”

    “Wow!” Hisoka placed a hand to his heart, a pout on his face. “You didn’t seem quite so aggressive last time. Something bad happened?” His eyes found your box and his smirk came back. “Fired?”

    You said nothing, but the displeased expression gave him confirmation.

    “Your fault.”

    “How’s that? Oh, let me guess,” his finger taping his lips in the most frustrating exagerration of his excessively dramatic self. “You couldn’t stop thinking about me and got distracted from your work, so of course, your boss told you to never come back because of your  uselesness. Tragic love story!” He sighed. “But then again, who could resist me? I feel sympathetic for you. <3″

    Your disgust grew just at the thought of being in love with Hisoka. He annoyed more you at every word he spoke, at every breath he took but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing this. You prefered playing his game and use your sarcasm to counter his and perhaps, distract yourself from your harsh reality.

    “Well, if you’re so sympathetic, you could buy me a house-”

    “Nope, <3″

You tried, at least!

    “My apartment have been infested with cockroaches, so honestly, I really need a house. If you know a place, tell me.”

Hisoka eyed you for a second.

     “Are you really unclean to the point of having cockroaches in your whole apartment?”

    “What ? NO!” you yelled.

He just laughed again, shoting his head back. You bite your lower lips in embarassment as you saw the eyes of everyone else in proximity glaring at you. Your cheeks burned in fluster.You’ve been too loud.

    “I have an idea!” you said to Hisoka after chacking your burning face away. “We could swap houses! That way, you could live with your family!”

His laugh died and he looked at you, pleased that you started playing with him.

   “They said they missed you, you know? That you shouldn’t have run off and left them without saying anything,” you continued.

   “I,” started Hisoka through a shit eating grin, “hate you so much and I urge to kill you but it would be no fun with you.”

    “I think one of your brothers at my house is called Steve. Steve really, really misses you.” You smiled. “I feel like you two were very close.”

    You liked insisting on each and every word of your sentence.

    “Impossible. I’m too sexy to be related to Steve.”

    “You’re sure? I thought you were twins. I could barely tell you apart!” Your voice sounded more and more amused with each syllable leaving your mouth. It felt so natural. “Wow.”

    Honeslty, playful bander with Hisoka was fun. A real game, a match one of you had to win; he was never phased by any of your words so you kept sending sly insults back and forth in this oddly lively and convivial disgust you shared for each other.

    Unfortunatly, everything must come to an end, right? You stopped quick in your teasing when you saw a familiar number appearing on your phone. Your smile vanished in less than a second and the atmosphere wasn’t so light anymore. Your partner was calling you, but in all honesty, you didn’t want to answer now. Or more like you didn’t have the heart to. 

    Hisoka raised one eyebrow.

    “Lover?”

    “I guess.. They’ve been cheating for a while, so no, not really anymore,” you said, trying your best to seem nonchalant about it.

    “And you’re okay with that? You don’t seem like the type who’d have an open relationship.” His voice sounded like he took great joy in your suffering.

    “Well, they found their soulmate. I know them,” you gulped. “I know them more than I know myself. It’s been hard on them and they aren’t ready to talk about it but I’m aware of what they’re doing at night. I saw their messages by accident.” You shrugged. “I’m only waiting for when they feel like it’s time.”

You stared at the number until it disappeared.

    “Liar.”

You looked over to Hisoka again, slightly disoriented.

    “You can dump them since you found your own soulmate.The break-up wouldn’t be so hard on them if they knew this.” He chuckled. “You’re just slowing down the inevitable fate of your couple. You don’t want to be alone and that’s all there is to know.”

    You glared at him, now. Your heart was beating loudly against your chest, in pure anger. How could he read through you so easily? You didn’t like that one bit and you were disappointed in yourself for oversharing. He’s your soulmate, yes, but he’s still Hisoka.

“Please. Not now.”

“Sucks to be you, love.”

    An awkward silence fall upon you both, or at least upon you. While you were frantically texting your best friend to ask for a place to stay, only to be met with a lenghty apology, you searched for other ways to find a place to sleep tonight. The motel rooms prices were way too high and you didn’t know how long you’d need to stay, nor how much it’ll cost to have your appartment clean again. You couldn’t face your partner and you were too ashamed to call your family. Your pride would end you but you prefered sleeping in the streets than having them look at you disapprovingly. Your whole world was falling apart and you blamed it all on Hisoka. And yet...

    Hisoka’s eyes didn’t leave your figure. His mind was racing and it seemed like it was the only thing it did since he met you. He didn’t speak when he saw you frown and sigh and type desesperatly on your phone, swipping through your contacts, hesitating over a room price, checking over and over again if anyone could help you. His mind was still racing when he told you:

    “I guess you can come to my place for a while.”

    You were utterly speechless and goggled at him for a few seconds. It isn’t like Hisoka at all to propose help. He had something in mind, you knew as much, but you couldn’t help but feel floored.

    “Who are you and what the heck did you do to my soulmate-?”

    “Awww, you refer to me as your soulmate, that’s adorable.”

    “ANSWER-” Honestly, you didn’t care about the volume of your voice at this point. You were too shocked. 

    Hisoka just laughed it off and looked at you, openly condescending and still smiling. Does he ever stop doing so ?

    “I will have to take on a mission so I won’t be at Heaven Arenas for a while.” He pointed at you. “You can take my room there while I’m gone.”

You were too confused.

    “But why? You gain nothing by doing this!” You frowned and wrapped your hands protectively against your body. “I won’t have sex with you!”

    “Don’t worry, I’d rather die,” he rolled his eyes. “I let you take my room because whatever happens to you if you sleep on a bench in the parc happens to me as well. And even if I’m pretty sure I can manage, I don’t want to wake up in the morning with a hole in my belly. You got it, darling?” 

    “Wait, what do you mean everything that happens to-’

But he didn’t let you finish your sentence: he took your box and walked away without giving you any other explanation.

    “Hisoka, wait!”

    Well, at least you got a rather interesting piece of informations. You didn’t know everything about soulmates but you sure knew that even if you were linked by fate, Hisoka wouldn’t do this without solid motives. Everything about him screamed to you to never trust him but you needed your box and you needed a roof over your head. You wouldn’t let your guard down for now. You probably couldn’t beat him in a fight but he didn’t seem like he’d kill you so that was already a good point.

    You made a mental note to look more deeply into all of this and untangle the mystery of his help and quickly followed your jerk soulmate. 

    “I said wait, asshole!”

    “What, miss me already? Do you want a goodbye kiss?”

    “Don’t say such repulsive things,” you replied, gagging. “I’ll need the room’s key.”

    “Here,” he tosses it to you before adding “just don’t go looking around my stuff too much~”

This was going to be... interesting.

[yongiefilms]

BUY ONE GET ONE FREE.

pairing: huang renjun x reader

genre: fluff; boyfriend!au; established relationship!au

warnings: swearing; endless bickering from all sides

word count: 1.8k (my longest yet wow)

summary: yes, you loved them with your entire heart, but why did they have to be so damn annoying?

author’s note: shoutout to all my proofreaders for being utterly amazing. i love you all so much and thank you for your help, my loves. @jensungf​ @wooqzi​ @bumblebeenct​

“Renjun, I swear if you hit Donghyuck one more time I will personally smack you myself,” you exclaimed, setting your black pen down on the table before turning your head to look at him.

Renjun scoffed at your threat, meeting your eyes as he himself stopped what he was doing. His own pen was set between the big crease in the book, near the lined sheets of paper. “What? Why me? If anything you should be smacking Hyuck.” He glanced over at Donghyuck who sat a few inches away from him on your bed, rapidly scribbling down notes before he mumbled lowly under his breath. “He doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up.”

“Hey!” Donghyuck loudly hollered, suddenly lurching his head upwards, sticking the pen stuck between his thumb and index finger up in the air. “I heard that, you motherfucker.” He flipped Renjun off with his free hand while jutting his chin out to serve as a challenge.

You settled your two fingers on your temples and closed your eyes, giving a smooth rub to the skin. You could detect a headache coming on and you had to retain some level of tranquility amongst the chatter of the two arguing boys that would soon come, despite the fact that it already started. Once the digs were spewed by either one of them, chaos would arise.

Slap! There it was, the physical aspect of it all. There weren’t squabbles between them without the direct contact. The resounding echo was heard throughout the room along with the small whine that followed. You furrowed your eyebrows further at the harsh sound, just your luck, but continued to focus on your breathing. 1, 2, 3...1, 2, 3…1, 2, 3…

You had assumed—no, you knew that Renjun reached over to swat Donghyuck on his thigh subsequent to insulting him. The boy still hadn’t learned to keep his mouth shut after the countless times Renjun attacked him for his remarks. It was rather typical.

“Didn’t you hear what Y/N said? You’ll get your ass whooped if you hit me again and see—“ Donghyuck jerked his head towards your direction, where you were trying to regain back some level of peace. “Y/N is trying to remain calm and you are disrupting her.”

Renjun outstretched his arm once more and thumped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “Idiot. Don’t you see you are distracting her with your babbling?” He whispered aggressively. “If anything you have to be silent and she loves me so she isn’t going to resort to violence with me.”

You opened your mouth to speak and peeked through one eye to take a good look at them before closing it, while you dropped your hands in your lap. “Both of you are disturbing me so please do be quiet.” You let out an exasperated sigh, twisting around to face your desk as you placed your forehead on the cold edge. “I’ll whack both of you…dumbasses.” You mumbled.

“See what you did.”

“What I did? It was all you.”

“No it wasn’t, you fucker. You were rambling while Y/N was taming the migraine—”

“That has nothing to do with it. It’s all your fault. You are the one always punching me and for what? Me teasing you? Get over it.”

“Get over it? You are the one that annoys me and provokes me. If anything you always have it coming.”

“You don’t have to beat me though.”

“I do because what else will make you stop talking?”

“How about—“

You couldn’t take it anymore. “Donghyuck shut up.” You heaved your head off the desk, opening your closed lids and spun your chair around to focus on the wide eyes of the two boys who were shocked at the outburst. It was quite funny you do admit.

“Yeah, Hyuck,” Renjun snickered.

The humor vanquished as you gave Renjun a blank stare. “You too, Jun.”

Donghyuck let out a rowdy, mocking snigger. “Y/N told you. Take that, Renjun.” He stuck his tongue out, vaguely shaking his head.

“Do I have to remind you again? Shut the fuck up,” Renjun glowered at him.

Donghyuck glared right back and uttered out in an antagonizing tone, “Make me.”

You could tell Renjun wanted to strangle him. “Oh I will, asshole.” He leaned forward, most likely to push Donghyuck onto the bed to give him a proper beating.

You raised your hands up in the air right when Donghyuck fell backwards on the silky cushion, his hands in front of him to serve as defense. “It’s no use.” You spun back to face your desk to get on with the multiple assignments you had to complete. “I am trying to do work, but every time I invite you both over to do so, you guys always find a way to give me a headache with all the endless bickering.” You heaved a forceful sigh as you rearranged your materials to see if you could pick up where you left off several instants ago, that is if they allowed you to.

Renjun stopped short right then before he laid his hands on Donghyuck. He momentarily paused so he could move his head back and forth to glance between your clothed back and Donghyuck’s smirking face. He then pinched Donghyuck’s sides abruptly as the boy let out a squeak, until he decided to maneuver off the bed and towards your desk.

His feet padded against the carpet as he stood by your right side to see you staring blankly at the open textbook with sheets of lined paper scattered about.

He bent his head forward to whisper faintly in your ear, placing his hands on your shoulders. His warm touch spread throughout your body. “Sorry, babe. You know how Hyuck always gets on my nerves and sometimes I can’t help it, but I’ll try to refrain myself more from now on, okay?” He reclined to take note of your face as you peered up at him. His gaze was tender as you slowly nodded your head. “Okay…but please do be quiet this time.”

He smiled charmingly at you. “Of course, my sweet Y/N. Now finish your assignments, we‘ll try to be as soundless as possible to not divert you from your studies.” He kissed your cheek and gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. You gave him a smile in return. He stepped back, ready to go back to his spot on the bed, but you had other plans. You hastily lifted your hands up to pull at his hoodie strings in order to bring him closer to you. You leaned ever so slightly to peck his lips, withdrawing quickly so he didn’t have enough time to react. He blinked his eyes swiftly to try to process what happened as he chortled at you. You thought he was going to possibly let it go, but he proved you wrong with his next words.

“No,” He waved his index finger up in the air. “I don’t think you’re getting away with that this time.” You tilted your head to the side, pondering what he meant. Renjun was a wonder, he always surprised you in the most beautiful ways and maybe even in the most frightening ways, since his sharp tongue was mostly to blame. He extended his hands out to your sides, tickling you as you jolted in your seat and started to giggle.

“Renjun,” you gasped in between your titter, moving your body side to side. “Stop it.” More chuckles from you and him. He was enjoying your little dilemma, it brought him joy. “I…can’t…breathe.”

His fingers immediately came to a stop, and he gently gripped your sides. You could feel your breath steady and your heartbeat resound to its normal hammering. His thumbs moved up and down the clothed skin at your sides, before his arm circled your waist and he tugged you up out of your seat. You stumbled on your footing, muttering a low, “What?”

Your bodies were touching each other as he brought his other arm to encircle your waist to interlock his hands. Your own hands made their way to his shoulders as he swayed you both side to side, resting his forehead on your own. He delicately whispered, “How about a proper kiss this time? Then you can go back to doing your work unless you want me to tickle you a second time, which I would be more than happy to do.”

You leaned back from him to properly glimpse into his star filled eyes and smirked. His eyebrows crinkled at your reaction and he opened to his mouth then proceeded to close it. You shook your head lightly at him, the smirk morphing into a wide beam. “Come here,” you said, moving your hands so you could place your thumbs on his cheeks. You rubbed the soft skin and finally closed the gap between your two lips.

The kiss was too short for your liking, but even so it managed to bring your spirits up and a fluttering in your stomach to blossom. When you both pulled apart, his dazzling grin greeted you, making your heart race even more. He detangled himself from you as he grabbed your hand to give it a squeeze. He moved backwards in small steps as his grip loosened the further he became. Your hand dropped to your side. “Now that was a proper kiss.”

He winked and then pivoted on his heel to situate himself back on the bed, where Donghyuck had finally decided to sit up in the wake of laying down for several long minutes. Your laugh echoed in the room as you wheeled the chair around to face them so you could settle down yourself. You forgot Donghyuck was there for a moment, too immersed in the other astonishing boy you called your own.

“You guys are disgustingly cute. I think I’m going to puke.” Donghyuck made gagging noises at the back of his throat and situated his hands on his knees, leaning forward to pretend he was actually going to vomit.

The grin that was on Renjun’s face grew into a scowl. “Just because I won’t slap you now doesn’t mean I won’t do it later so keep your mouth shut.” Renjun threatened and poked Dongyuck’s chest.

You laughed to yourself yet anew, and shook your head, prior to spinning in your chair to finally get back to the tasks you so desperately left alone for too long. It was indeed predictable for those boys to quarrel to no end regardless of the occasion, but you didn’t mind, especially after being with them for so long. You got used to it. You got used to their dysfunctional antics as a duo. However, as much as you loved them individually, they were far more special together. For one of them would always have your heart and the other would always have your back. That’s how it goes when one is your lover and the other your best friend. You had one and got the other free, so who were you to complain?

[thebrotherssalvatore321]

Keeping Secrets Ch. 35

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

The next morning she woke up to find Klaus still sound asleep on his side, his lips parted just a little as soft snores filled the air. Seeing him so relaxed brought a smile to her lips as she turned onto her back, reached over to the nightstand and grabbed her cell phone to see that it was only five thirty in the morning. It was odd for her to wake up this early, but considering she woke up happy, she couldn’t complain. Dance committee clean up didn’t start until eight. So she set an alarm for six thirty, put it back on the night stand then rolled over and tucked herself into Klaus’s chest. He wrapped his arm around her waist waking a little, but his arm soon relaxed as he drifted back off.

As her mind started to wander, her hand found the infinity sign hanging around her neck. As she touched it her mind went back to the night Elijah left. “I will always love you. That is why I’m letting you go.” His words echoed through her head.

Klaus woke up a few minutes later and saw her staring off into space as her manicured fingers played with the necklace. He hated that she was thinking about Elijah while lying in bed with him, but he had to keep reminding himself that regardless of last night. Katie wasn’t his to have, but she would find her way to him in time, he was sure of it. “I know you said you no longer believe in love,” Klaus’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts that she had been so lost in that she hadn’t realized he had woken up, “but you still love him, don’t you?”

“I honestly don’t know, but it doesn’t matter because love means nothing without commitment.” She sat up and slipped from the bed. “He let me go…and if I’m ever going to be able to let myself be happy,” she pulled the drawer of her vanity open and took the teal jewelry box out, popped it open then set it on the vanity, “I have to do the same.” She reached behind her neck, undid the clasp then put it in the box and shut the lid. He watched her put the box in the drawer and close it before she turned back to him. “And while I’m perfectly content with whatever you want to call what we are,” she walked back over to the bed and crawled across it, straddling his sheet covered hips, “I want you to know that I don’t want to tie you down. I know you have a thing for Caroline even though she’s with Tyler. If you decide she is who you want to pursue then I’ll step aside, no hard feelings.”

“You asked me at the ball who I would choose if I had too.” Before he could say anything else she covered his mouth with her hand.

“Don’t.” She moved her hand and he gave her a slow blink. “That was just my own insecurities manifesting in a competitive way. I don’t need nor do I want to know who you’d choose. Although if I were you I’d choose Caroline she’s a pretty amazing person and not nearly as screwed up as I am.”

He realized then that her heart was still wrapped with hard stone. She wanted him…she was letting him chip away at her, but he was nowhere near the soft spot that he wanted so badly to be let into. She still feared the hurt that love could bring and if he was being honest, he was pretty damn scared of love too. So he too was perfectly content with what they had going on right now. “If you say so.” he hooked his hand around the back of her neck, pulled her down to his lips then sat up on his knees and set his hands on her outer thighs as she situated herself in his lap. He kissed his way to her neck and bit it with a playful growl. She laughed and he pulled back to look at her smiling face, loving that a small spark was back in her eyes and he had put it there.

“I like it when you growl like that.” She admitted as she bit her lip still smiling.

“Yeah?” he asked and she nodded. “Well I like it…” he growled and bit her shoulder and she laughed again, “when you laugh like that.” He told her with a smile of his own. “What else do you like?”

“Fishing for compliments are we?” she asked with a quirk of her brow. He just shrugged. “I like your laugh too. Not your condescending, alpha male with something to prove, laugh, but the one I get from you.” She answered. “For some reason I find your hands incredibly sexy. I like the fact that you’re clearly a fan of my chest and you have no problem showing it.” Just to drive her point home he slid his hand around from where he had been holding onto her back, up her stomach to grab her breast and twist her nipple between his thumb and pointer finger pulling a sigh and a small whimper of pleasure from her. “And I like it when you do that.”

“I like the noises and face you make when I do that.” He told her as he looked at the lust his action brought to her eyes. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed being with a woman as much as he enjoyed being with and playing with Katie. He leaned back, placing his fists on the bed behind him to prop himself up as his eyes drank her in. She balanced herself on his lap as she brushed her finger tips over his chest and down over his hips, her fingers following the v of his muscles that led further down. She usually made it a point not to look at a guy’s package when hanging out naked in bed with him, but her gaze slipped and her cheeks reddened, which was exactly why she usually tried not to look. “I like that you can be extremely seductive yet you still blush like that.”

“I like the way you say seductive.” She threw out as she looked back up at his face enjoying their back and forth complementary banter. “and succeed.”

“I like the way you moan my name when you’re close.” He told her with a smirk.

“I like how you know when I close without me blatantly saying so.” She told him.

“I like that you haven’t stopped touching me since we came into this room.” he answered without thinking, loving that he didn’t have to overthink anything right now.

“Well I like touching you.” she told him with a smile as she slipped her fingertips down his chest.

“And I like kissing you.” he told her as he looked down at her hands on him then back up at her eyes.

“Then kiss me, Big Bad Wolf.” She told him with a seductive whisper.

“You…” he put all his weight on one first, reached up and gently cupped her chin in his hand and looked at her with lustful eyes, “are the only one allowed to call me that.”

“You don’t like it?” she asked considering that every time she had called him that in the past he seemed to. Then she remembered that Mikael had called him that and her face turned to one of realization. “Shit.”

“It’s fine.” He assured her in his pep-up voice, but she didn’t pick her eyes up from where they had fallen to look at his stomach. “You called me that before he did and you say it like a compliment, instead of an insult.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “Say it again.”

“Big…Bad…Wo-” he cut her off with a kiss and fell back taking her down with him as she laughed into him.

They were still playing around, lost in each other and tangled in the sheets when her alarm started ringing letting her know she needed to start getting ready to leave. With a sigh she untangled herself from the sheet and him and rolled over putting her back to him and grabbed her phone shutting off the alarm. “I selfishly do not want to leave this bed.”

“Then don’t.” he told her as he pulled her back into him and started kissing her shoulders and back.

“I have to. I’m part of the dance committee and the gym and cafeteria are a mess.” She told him as she rolled over to face him. “I’m not going to let Caroline, Tyler, Matt and Rebekah do it all themselves.” She slipped from the bed and walked over to the dresser where she grabbed a set of under things, put them on the dresser then went to her wardrobe and opened it up. She grabbed a yellow racer back tank top and a black leather jacket then pulled the drawer out and grabbed a pair of distressed dark wash jeans. “I’m gonna go shower. If I show up reeking of sex Caroline will most likely pry until she finds out who I slept with, judge me nine ways to Sunday then tell Tyler who will tell Matt who will tell Elena and so on and so on.” She told him as she grabbed the satin robe and shrugged it on.

“Do you not want people to know you’re sleeping with me?” he asked with an enthused smirk.

“I don’t care if they find out ,I’m just not going to be the first one to start up the rumor mill.” She told him as she grabbed her clean clothes.

He sat up. “Am I invited to join you for your shower?” he asked.

She was going to tell him no, that she could use the time to clear her head, but then he stood from the bed, the sheet that had been covering him since she got out of bed slipped from his hips and a blush colored her cheeks making him smile. After a second she jerked her eyes up to his and swallowed with a gulp. “Uh huh.” Klaus laughed at her reaction and scooped her up with a growl making her yelp then burst out laughing as she wrapped her arms around him.

TVDTVDTVD

After their shower they went to their seperate rooms to get dressed. She was in the kitchen putting a blood bag in a coffee tumbler when Klaus found her, even wearing jeans and a plain maroon Henley she found him attractive. “What would you say if I asked you to leave town with me?” he asked as he grabbed a bag of blood out of the icebox.

“I would say give me until Monday when I can talk to the counselor about home school and then I’m all yours.” she said then put the lid on the tumbler and took a drink.

“Do you want your things at your house packed up or just what you have here?” he asked, making her realize it wasn’t just a hypothetical question.

“Oh, you’re being serious.” He took a drink of blood then smiled a closed lipped smile and lifted his brows. “What I have here will be more than enough.” She looked at the clock on her phone.

“Then Tyler’s not going to make it to homecoming clean up.” He told her and she gave him a questioning look. “He will be helping pack our things.” He watched her look down at her phone to see that she still had about twenty minutes before she had to leave the house. “I’ve got to say, I’m surprised you’ve agreed to come with me.”

“Why? I hate this town.” She asked as she pulled herself up to sit in the corner of the cabinets. “I’m tired of this place and everyone in it.” she rethought what she said. “Well, except Rebekah and Caroline, but that’s what phone’s and video chat are for.”

He walked over to stand between her knees and took a drink from his glass then set it on the bar next to her. “Where do you want to go?” he placed his hands on her sides.

She moved her arms to rest on his neck, still holding her coffee tumbler in her hand. “Anywhere in the u.s.” she told him then took a drink from the tumbler. “I don’t want to go out of the country until after graduation, which I want to come back here for. All this life I’ve anticipated walking across that stage in an ugly maroon gown and tossing my hat alongside the people I grew up with.” He smiled at her, loving that she didn’t just say, you choose or I don’t care then proceed to shoot down every idea he had like a stereotypical woman. “So where are we going?” she asked then took a drink.

“I don’t know, let me think about it.” he answered already thinking about what he wanted to show her first.

“Okay.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “I have to go.” He stepped back and let her hop down off the bar then enjoyed watching her walk away.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie found Rebekah in the cafeteria picking up trash that was left on the tables. “How was your night?” Rebekah asked as Katie grabbed a small blue recycling bin and started picking up trash. When Katie didn’t answer Rebekah looked up at her and smirked.

“Isn’t that a bit of a weird question for you to ask when it was your brother I spent the night with?” Katie asked with a cock of her head.

“That doesn’t touch the tip of the weird iceberg.” Rebekah told her. “When you spend as much time around your siblings as I have you learn to deal with hearing and seeing things you would prefer not to.” Katie just shook her head and smiled. “If I’m being honest I knew the two of you were making out before I interrupted.” Katie gave her a confused frown. “I know how easy it is for him to charm a woman into his bed and I know you still miss Elijah. I was giving you the opportunity to say no if it wasn’t something you really wanted.”

“Huh.” Katie huffed. Rebekah really wasn’t as much of a bitch as she came off to be. “Thanks.” Rebekah gave her a look that told her to answer her question. “Fine, my night was freaking amazing and for the first time in almost a month I don’t feel like it took every ounce of willpower I had just to get out of bed in the morning.” She told her letting a smile slip. She wanted to tell her that she and Klaus were planning on leaving together, but she figured it would be best if she let Klaus tell her.

“Well, getting laid does tend to put some pep in one's step.” Rebekah told her as she picked up trash off the table.

“Who got laid?” Caroline asked as she walked into the room and looked at the two girls. “Please tell me you didn’t sleep with Damon again.” Caroline asked Rebekah who shook her head no and pointed at Katie who wasn’t looking at them and instead focused on picking up trash. But she looked up when Caroline threw a plastic champagne glass at her. “You slept with Damon?” Caroline asked in disbelief.

“What? No!” Katie told her as she picked up the champagne glass. “No one slept with Damon again.”

“Then who did you sleep with?” Caroline asked.

“Klaus.” Rebekah answered innocently.

“Rebekah!” Katie yelled and threw the glass at her.

“You and Klaus?” Caroline asked with wide eyes.

“I’m gonna go get started on the gym.” Katie walked away not feeling like dealing with either of the girls. While Caroline and Rebekah worked in the cafeteria Katie started taking the lights down in the gym. She was almost done when someone whooshed up behind her and broke her neck.

When she woke up and took a breath through her mouth she instantly started coughing from the vervain she breathed in. The cloth in her mouth that was tied around her head had been soaked in it. Not only did it burn her cheeks and ears, but it weakened her little by little as she involuntarily breathed it in. She still took vervain every morning, but her tolerance wasn’t high enough to keep it from affecting her at all. For right now it just protected her from compulsion. She tried to lift her hands only to realize that they were pinned to the desk with pencils that someone had stabbed through her palms.

Her eyes landed on Alaric, leaning his hips against the front of his desk with his phone to his hear and she realized that he had managed to turn during the night. Esther had succeeded in creating her ultimate weapon. When another heartbeat in the room caught her attention she looked over to see Caroline, gagged with pencils in her hands, in the desk to her right.

“Listen closely. I’m at the school.” Alaric told whoever he was on the phone with. “I have Caroline and Katie and if you want to keep them alive, I need you to get into your car and come down here right away.” Alaric looked up at the two vampires staked to desks. “If you tell anyone, I will kill them.” He hung up the phone and smirked an evil smirk at them then sat down at his desk, propped his feet up on it and started twirling a stake that looked almost like it was coated in a spider web of silver, in his hand.

While Caroline cried and whimpered from the painful pencils in her hands and the vervain that she inhaled with every breath, Katie sat quietly. The only indication that she was in any pain were the tears that slipped down her cheeks. After a long silence Elena appeared in the doorway of the classroom. “Let them go, Alaric.”

Alaric waved his hand at them. “Free them yourself.”

Elena walked over to Caroline, kneeled down and started to pull the pencil out of Caroline’s hand, but Alaric hit it, pushing it back in making Caroline scream out. “You said you would let her go!” Elena yelled as she stood and turned to Alaric.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Elena? Stop trusting vampires.” Alaric yelled back. “Sit.” He pointed at the desk next to Caroline and Elena sat down. Katie kept her eyes locked on the black board as Alaric walked around her, took the gag out of her mouth and dipped it in a beaker of vervain. Knowing it would be pointless to fight she opened her mouth and bit the strip of fabric, making him think he tied it super tight around her head when really she had a little slack. The sound of the vervain singeing her skin filled the air and a small grunt bubbled up out of her throat as she squeezed her eyes shut, tears slipping down her cheeks as her hands gripped the edge of the desk. She knew it wasn’t Alaric hurting her, it was the darkness that his ring and Esther had brought out of him, but at the moment she wanted nothing more than to rip his heart out and watch the light fade from his eyes.

Alaric did the same with Caroline’s gag, who started begging him to stop the second the fabric was removed from her mouth. “Alaric stop.” Elena told him as she stood up, but Alaric shoved her into the desk and tied the fabric back around Caroline’s mouth making her cry out. “Why are you doing this?” Elena asked him. Katie started chewing on the gag in her mouth, grinding her teeth back and forth over it, trying as quietly could, to break it. As she chewed on it, squeezing the fabric between her teeth, vervain filled her mouth and if she spat it out Alaric would know she was up to something. So she forced herself to swallow it and keep grinding her teeth despite her throat burning from the vervain.

“To make it easier on you when you put them out of their misery.” Alaric answered Elena as he picked up the silver coated stake.

“What? No.” Elena told him.

“Isn’t this what you wanted Elena? For me to teach you how to kill a vampire?” he asked then motioned the stake to Katie. “Well, here’s a vampire, Elena. One that I know you hate, so it should really be no problem.” He told her then held the stake out to her. “Kill her.”

“I don’t hate her.” Elena told him. “This isn’t what I want.”

Katie didn’t look at any of them. “Of course it is. All those hours you spent training, getting stronger. You could be a hunter Elena, but you’ve never actually staked a vampire through the heart.”

“No.” Elena told him and he started pacing. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you need me.” Alaric told her. “Because you’re an eighteen year old girl without parents or guidance or any sense of right and wrong anymore.” He told her still pacing.

“Look at you. How is this right?” Elena asked with a motion at Caroline and Katie.

“They are murders.” He stopped and pointed at Caroline. “She told me she killed someone and liked it.” He took a step back and pointed the stake at Katie. “And we all know that Katie enjoyed killing her grandfather. Not once has she shown the least bit of guilt for taking a human life. How is that right?” he asked then walked over to stand across from Elena. “See, Elena, your parents led the council. It was their life’s mission to keep this town safe. They weren’t dead six months before you undid it all.”

Katie kept sawing her teeth over the cloth, her tongue, inner cheek and throat raw and bleeding. “You don’t know anything about them.” Elena told him as Katie still chewed on the cloth.

Alaric walked around Katie, leaned down putting his lips by her ear. “I can hear you chewing on your gag and I promise if you try anything I will have no problem ripping your heart out.” Not realizing just how long she had been chewing on the gag he grabbed it and jerked back on it in an attempt to hurt her. Instead it snapped it at the weak point she had created. It surprised him enough that she had time to jerk her hands up off the pencils, break them off the desk and stab him in each side of his neck, embedding them into his neck so deep the erasers were even with his skin.

Elena grabbed the beaker of vervain and broke it across his face. While he was down, screaming while clutching his burning face, Katie leaned on one of the desks, trying to catch her breath from doing what she had just done while so weakened by vervain and Elena took the pencils out of Caroline's hands and the gag off of her. “Get help.” Elena told them. Katie wrapped her arm around Caroline’s waist and Caroline whooshed them out of the room.

They paused and looked back to see if Elena made it out, but they didn’t see her. A hand went around their mouths and someone pulled them around the corner. Caroline tried to scream, but Katie’s tongue, throat and the inside of her mouth was still too sore to attempt to scream. Whoever it was shushed them. “It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s me. You're both safe.” Klaus whispered then dropped his hands and they turned to look at him. “We’ll save Elena.” He told Caroline. “You go straight home. You stay inside, you understand?”

She nodded at him. “Thank you.” Caroline told him quietly then looked at Katie, “Katie are you gonna be okay?” Katie just gave her a weak nod. “I’ve got her. Go. Now.” Klaus told Caroline and she whooshed off leaving Katie with Klaus. He grabbed Katie’s hand and whooshed her outside a few feet away from the school.

“What did he do to you?” he asked, setting his hand on the side of her neck as he leaned down taking in her face.

“Noth-” she turned away from him and coughed up blood then spit it out onto the concrete feeling her throat start to heal. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.” She rasped as she turned back to look at him.

“That’s not what I asked.” He pointed out as his eyes took in the red healing marks on her face that went from the corners of her mouth to her ears.

“He staked my hands to the desk with pencils...gagged me with a cloth soaked in vervain.” She answered, still feeling weak from the vervain in her system. “He did the same to Caroline.”

“Why do you seem worse off than Caroline?” he asked.

“I swallowed a lot of vervain in the process of chewing through the gag. She just breathed it in and got some on her face.” she admitted.

Klaus sighed. “I wanted you to help us, but you’re in no condition to take on Alaric and I can’t give you my blood in case it interferes with the effectiveness of Bonnie’s blood that we all drank.” She could see him contemplating what to do. “If I ask you to go to Caroline’s where it’s safe and stay there till I say otherwise, will you?”

“Yeah.” She nodded then grabbed his chin in her hand like he did to her so often. “Watch your back in there.”

He gave her a quick kiss. “Go.”

TVDTVDTVD

They were sitting in Caroline’s living room both watching, but not really paying attention to, “Say Yes To The Dress” when Caroline’s phone started ringing and she answered it with lightning speed. “We didn’t take down Alaric, but I did use the spell on Klaus.” Bonnie told her and Katie felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach. “I stopped his heart. He’s desiccated just like Mikael was. Damon and Stefan are taking him somewhere to hide him from Alaric.”

“Okay.” Caroline said looking at Katie with wide, sorry eyes.

“Okay?” Bonnie asked with a happy laugh. “I just took down Klaus. You could sound a little happier.” Caroline couldn’t be happy when Katie had been hurt yet again.

“I’m happy, Bonnie, it’s just been a long day.” Caroline told her as she watched Katie take a deep breath and stand from the couch and disappear into Caroline’s room.

After hanging up with Bonnie, Caroline went to Katie and found her staring out of the window with her arms crossed, a flat face and a distant look in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Do you know how many times I have thought about running away from this town?” Katie asked, not really answering the question.

“Probably a lot. Especially here recently.” Caroline answered as she walked over to her bed and sat down.

“We were going to leave town together. He was going to get me out of this stupid town that has done nothing but strangle the life out of me. He made me happy.” Katie explained, needing to talk to someone and Caroline was all she had right now. “Every time I find happiness something happens and I lose it.” Katie still looked out the window instead of at Caroline.

“I know you're sad, but-” Caroline started.

“That’s the thing, Care…” Katie cut her off with a shake of her head. “I’m not sad…I’m tired. So tired, that I can’t even feel sad about Klaus. I don’t feel anything really, I’m just…numb. Like getting a tattoo. It hurts at first, but eventually after so many stabs, you can’t even feel it.”

“And that’s completely understandable given everything you have been though.” Caroline told her with tears in her eyes. “I wish I could have done a better job of being there for you, but it wasn’t just Elena keeping me and Bonnie from you. I mean, yeah she was in the wrong, she started it, but you’ve always pushed us away and shut down when things get hard.” Katie started picking at her cuticles still looking out the window. “When your parent’s died…or left, or whatever, you didn’t talk to any of us for like a year.”

“I think I blacked that out of my memory.” Katie told her honestly as she looked at Caroline.

“Well I didn’t. You…all of us need to stop pushing each other away and stick together like friends are supposed to.” Caroline was at her peak when she was giving people lectures. “If you are not ready to forgive Elena and Bonnie any time soon I will completely understand, but please do me a favor and forgive me and stop pushing me away. We learned to ride bikes together, we turned together and we were tortured together today and I will not stop being your friend even when you tell me to. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Caroline, I understand you and I forgive you.” Katie told her as the smallest of smiles pulled at the corner of her mouth, but it looked half assed. “Just…do me a favor and don’t tell anyone about me and Klaus for now?”

“Promise.” Caroline told her and held out her pinky. Katie shook her head and hooked her pinky through Caroline’s then dropped her hand. “So do you love him?” Caroline asked, being intrusive Caroline.

“Honestly?” Katie asked then shrugged up her shoulders. “I don’t have a freaking clue what love is anymore.”

Before Caroline could ask another question her phone started ringing.

It was Jeremy calling to let her know that Elena had passed out and he brought her to the hospital. But now he needed help getting her out of the hospital before Alaric or an original came after her. So Katie and Caroline got into Caroline's car and headed to the hospital where they met up with Matt and Tyler and they got Elena out of the hospital.

TVDTVDTVD

"Couch." Caroline barked at Elena as they all walked into Elena's house.

"I'm fine. I just want something to eat first." Elena assured the smothering Caroline who gave Katie a look.

"How is it that you can boss people around with a single look?" Katie asked Caroline as she headed towards the kitchen.

"Cause I've got skills." Caroline told her, making Katie shake her head. "You, couch." Katie heard Caroline bark at Elena again before Katie disappeared into the kitchen.

She had just finished putting together a sandwich when Caroline came into the kitchen. "Tyler and I have to go, our moms need to talk to us, they said it’s urgent. Are you and Matt okay to keep an eye on Elena until Stefan gets here?"

"Yeah, of course, go." Katie told her so she headed out.

"She's asleep." Matt announced as he passed Caroline on his way into the kitchen.

"Then I will stick this in the icebox for later." Katie sighed and put the sandwich in the fridge.

"For what it’s worth I think what Elijah did to you sucks.” Matt told her honestly.

“How do you even know about that?” she asked with a shake of her head.

“Girls talk.” He told her with an amused smirk.

Katie sighed and shook her head. "I’m going to go find something to keep myself busy, laundry or anything. Holler if an original or a history teacher turned vampire shows up.” She told him and he nodded as she started to leave the kitchen, but stopped and turned back “And Matt…"

“Yeah?” he asked looking up at her from the bar.

“Thanks.” He just gave her a nod.

She was painting what used to be Jenna and Alaric’s room out of the need to do something when she heard Stefan come in. Not wanting to see him she kept painting.

After finishing a wall she decided to go down stairs and check on things and she was halfway down the stairs when an all too familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach made her stop and the doorbell rang. Elena happened to be walking by and grabbed the door knob. "Elena don't-" but before she could finish the sentence Elena pulled the door open revealing Elijah on the other side “open that.” she finished with a sigh. He looked at Elena before his eyes found Katie still standing on the stairs. "I swear…I’m stuck in Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events." she grumbled breaking eye contact with him. “I need booze.” She headed to the kitchen where Stefan was chopping something and Matt was setting out plates on the dining table. "Elijah alert." She told them as she grabbed a bottle of tequila, a shot glass and a salt shaker. While Stefan and Matt went to the door Katie set down at the table, poured a shot then licked her hand between her thumb and forefinger and shook some salt onto the wet spot.

Elijah came in and sat down at the table and Elena sat down a few seats away from him. Katie didn’t look at him as she licked the salt off her hand then threw back the shot. Needing to get away from Elijah she grabbed the salt shaker and bottle and started to leave the room. “You should probably stay here.” Stefan told her and she stopped. “We might need your help.”

“I can listen from another room and shout if I have something to add.” She told him then went into the living room and sat down on the couch with her back facing the dining room.

Elena called Damon and put him on speaker phone. “All we need is to take that stake away from him.” Elijah started talking. “Once he’s been disarmed and the weapon’s in my possession my family will scatter to the ends of the earth. And Alaric…will follow us.”

“And you’ll just…run?” Stefan asked and Katie heard someone pull a chair out and sit down.

“We’ve done it before.” Elijah answered.

“And it’s what he’s best at.” Katie chipped in without meaning to.

She heard a chair move and footsteps head her way as Elijah kept talking. “Klaus and Rebekah spent the better part of a thousand years evading my father.” Stefan took the bottle of Tequila out of her hand and replaced it with a bottle of water. Katie gave him a sneer, but uncapped the water knowing she was being immature and now wasn’t the time. “What’s another half century while Elena’s able to live out the rest of her natural life?”

Katie downed the bottle of water then went into the kitchen and grabbed another one out of the fridge. “We finally stopped him, Elijah. After everything he’s done to us I can’t just let you bring him back.” Elena told Elijah who glanced at Katie as she pulled herself up to sit in the corner of the kitchen cabinets.

“I give you my word, Elena.” He sat up straighter in the chair. “I will not revive Klaus within yours, nor even within your children’s lifetimes.” Elena just stared at him and he fidgeted with the place setting in front of him. “Perhaps it’ll finally teach him some manners.” He didn’t miss when Katie’s nostrils flared and she bit her lips closed to keep herself quiet.

“Why should she trust you?” Matt asked as he walked over to the end of the table and put his hands on the back of the chair. “All you’ve done is screw her over.”

“And for that, I am deeply ashamed.” Elijah told him then looked at Katie who dropped her eyes to the floor and started picking at her cuticles. “But know this. Elena could have been dead the instant I walked through that door tonight. So, Elena, I leave it to you to make the decision whether to trust me or not.”

“Not!” Damon said over the phone. “Hello! Did that concussion give you brain damage? His lunatic siblings will kill you the first chance they get.”

“Rebekah and Kol will honor the terms.” Elijah told him then looked at Elena. “If you return Klaus’ body to us Elena will come to no harm.” Elena and Stefan looked at each other. “Do we have a deal?”

“No!” Damon yelled. “No, no, no, no. Did I mention, no!” Katie couldn’t help smirking at him.

Stefan sighed and shook his head. “Elena, it’s up to you.”

“Oh, come on!” Damon yelled.

“Why do you want Klaus’ body?” Elena asked, ignoring Damon.

“He’s my brother.” Elijah answered with a shrug. “We remain together.”

Elena looked down in thought then over at Katie. “Don’t look at me.” Katie told her with her hands held up. “We all know my judgment sucks when it comes to him.”

Elena sighed then looked at Elijah. “We have a deal.”

After that they started working out a plan. Jeremy would tell Alaric a false location and lure Alaric out into the woods where Elijah, Katie, Stefan, Jeremy and Caroline would disarm him then run.

Most of them whooshed to the location, but Jeremy and Stefan drove. Katie was leaning against a tree, waiting for Alaric to show up when Elijah walked over and leaned against the other side of the tree. “Where is your necklace?” he asked the first thing that popped into his head and she didn’t answer him. “So you’re just going to ignore me?” Stefan, Caroline and Jeremy moved away from them, giving them space.

She thought about telling him she destroyed it in a food processor or threw it into Wickery Falls, but she just didn’t have it in her to fight with him. “Go away.” He walked around her and looked into her eyes. The sadness in his dark browns managed to strike a tightly wound cord and when he tried to cup her cheek in his hand the cord snapped. She knocked his hand away with lightning speed and backhanded him across the face. He kept his head turned as she walked around him and over to Caroline.

“You okay?” Caroline mouthed at her and Katie shook her head no and shrugged.

TVDTVDTVD

They were still waiting for Alaric to show up when Stefan got a call from Damon. “Bad news brother.” Katie heard Damon say, eavesdropping on them. “Alaric staked Klaus. He’s dead.” Katie’s heart fell to the pit of her stomach and a lump formed in her throat.

“I feel okay.” Stefan told him. “Do you feel anything?”

“No.” Damon answered.

“It took Sage about an hour before she got sick.” Stefan pointed out.

“Yeah, or Klaus was lying about being the sire of our bloodline.” Damon countered.

“Well, if he wasn’t lying…an hour’s not enough time to get you all the way back to Mystic Falls.”

Katie stopped listening, knowing that Klaus wouldn’t lie to her, and stumbled back into the tree behind her. Elijah had been keeping an eye on her and saw her shock. He and Caroline whooshed over. “What happened?” he asked.

Stefan didn’t answer right away. “Stefan?” Caroline asked worried.

“Klaus is dead.” He told them with watery eyes.

“Tyler.” Caroline sighed and whooshed away.

Elijah looked at Katie. She tried to walk away, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her into him.

While he hugged her and a few tears slipped down his cheeks, she just stood there not hugging him back or crying for the life she was about to lose. She literally felt nothing, not even his arms around her or the wind that blew her hair as he let her go and tucked a lock of it behind her ear.

Stefan and Jeremy left to be home when Matt brought Elena back home from his and Jeremy’s stupid secret get-Elena-away-from-vampires mission while Elijah waited for Rebekah and Katie stared off into space, leaning against a tree again. Elijah’s phone chimed and he looked down at it then back at Katie with a confused look. “Tyler Lockwood is dead, yet you are still alive.” She lifted her eye up to look at him. “I don’t understand how you are not dead.” Katie just shrugged.

After a while they heard the whoosh of wind and Elijah turned from the silent Katie to see a teary eyed Rebekah. “He’s gone, Elijah. There was nothing I could do to stop it.” Elijah walked over to her and hugged her.

“Tyler Lockwood is dead, but the rest survived. You said that Niklaus turned their bloodline.” Elijah told her.

“I thought he did.” Rebekah told him.

“It wasn’t me. It wasn’t Kol.” Elijah stated.

“It wasn’t me, Elijah. It was Niklaus, I’m sure of it.” Rebekah insisted.

“Then how are they still alive?” Elijah asked.

Rebekah looked over Elijah’s shoulder at Katie who didn’t seem to be on the same planet as them. “Why is she so quiet?”

Elijah turned and looked at her with narrowed eyes. “I think she is in shock.” Katie, who hadn’t been listening to them, closed her eyes and pushed it all back, every heartache, every bit of anger, everything that weighed on her, until something in her mind clicked and everything floated away. A content sigh left her lips. “No.” Elijah said, feeling what just happened through the shift in her energy that always flowed through their link that he was thankful didn’t just break.

“No?” Rebekah asked, confused. “No what?”

Elijah just watched as Katie opened her eyes.

“She just turned off her humanity.”

[writer-dreams]

Love Potion (End) (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Love Potion is finally coming to an end. It feels so bittersweet that I finally have to finish this fic. I hope you enjoy this final part.

Prologue / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / End

Update Tags: @celestialceci @marvelobsessedteen @imaginesforthepeople @danidomm @marvelrose @vogueworthy-barnes @glossysoph @stevesvibraniumshield @bi-mama @fiveisadorable @paulalucianap1 @drama-llama-04 @mellow-delight @hahaboop @awesomehannaha @stantalentstanclc @queenskyster @outsider-underwater @babebenhardy @imaginespnr5er @riddikuluslypotter @pitkins @bughug1999 @drawlfoy @onyxbunny22 @sorgenprinzessin @vivianhuynh77 @dauntlessdracarys @jellyfishbeansontoast @frenchkpoplover @kaibie @starvinggaywriter @lunathepettuna @accio-rogers @summer-wasteland @storymage-danganronpa @daintyyukhei @writerandee @accio-perseus @fightpain-with-morepain @dracoboimalfoy @cynthianokamaria @lune--chaos @outsider-underwater @ellojustafangirlhere​ @never-trusthugs​ @mariensky​ @cyrraluu @someone-you-dontknow @accio-rogers

House: You choose

Blood Status: You choose

Warnings: Possible swearing, light angst

Note: The reader in this story is female / uses female pronouns

Word Count: 3,085 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Final Day

3rd Person POV

Y/n was happily walking down the halls, humming a soft tune to herself. She was feeling especially giddy to see Draco, considering last night's events. The sensation of his lips on hers still lingered, giving her butterflies. Suddenly, she nearly walked into somebody, stopping herself just in time before she slammed into their chest. She looked up, hoping it was Draco, but was instead greeted by the two mischievous Weasley twins.

"Hey, Y/n." The two chirped, "You're looking quite cheerful this morning."

"Of course I am." Y/n answered, raising an eyebrow at their almost sinister grins.

"Alright, alright. I suppose you've waited long enough for this. Here, you deserve it." Fred handed her a small glass bottle.

"What is it?" Y/n asked, inspecting it curiously.

"It's the anti-love potion of course!" George said smugly.

Y/n's heart almost stopped. The world around her suddenly felt too confining, it was practically suffocating her. The walls seemed to be shrinking, threatening to crush her. She gasped, staring at the bottle in her hand. The pink liquid inside glowed menacingly, almost as if it was laughing at her.

"Y/n! Hey, Y/n! Are you okay?" George waved a hand in front of her. She snapped out of her trance and quickly looked around. The large walls of the corridor were back to their normal size and showed no signs of changing. The bottle in her hand wasn't glowing anymore and the twins in front of her were giving her concerned looks.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Y/n waved them off. "Thanks for the potion, guys." She immediately turned away and began walking away, leaving the two twins staring at each other in confusion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Had the seventh day really come that quickly? The past few days felt like a blur, she wasn't ready to end this. They only finally admitted their feelings to each other, and now she had to lose him. The Draco that she had grown to love was going to disappear and she would never see him again. If she decided to avoid giving him the potion, not only would she be in love with a lie but it would also raise questions from others.

Speaking of Draco, she noticed him waiting for her at the end of the hallway. Slowly, she approached him, trying not trip over her own feet. He grinned at her, walking up to her and wrapping his arms tightly around her body. Y/n cautiously returned the hug, as if he were made of glass. Draco noticed how loose the hug was, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Is there something wrong, Love?" Draco asked.

Oh, how her heart ached knowing this would be the last time he would call her that nickname. She opened her mouth, her hand moving to her pocket, grazing the outline of the potion to give to him. However, she then looked up into his eyes. Those damned grey eyes that were filled with concern and she found that she couldn't bring herself to grab the bottle. Her hand curled into a tight fist in her pocket as she cursed softly to herself.

"Nothing's wrong." She beamed at him.

Draco seemed unconvinced but nodded anyway, linking his arm with hers. He pulled her along excitedly, taking her up to the seventh-floor corridor and then up to a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls to dance the ballet.

"Draco, what is this?" Y/n asked, trying not to laugh at the banner in front of them.

"Watch, princess." He smiled warmly, letting go of her hand. He began walking back forth in front of the blank wall next to the tapestry. As he turned around for a third time, a door suddenly appeared on the wall. Y/n's eyes widened as Draco opened the door and gestured for her to go inside.

"Ladies first." He joked.

"Then I suppose you should go first, right?" Y/n retorted.

"Just another reason I love you; your wit. Always able to answer with a comeback on the spot." Draco chuckled, "Just go through the damn door."

Y/n laughed and walked through. The sight on the other side of the door left her speechless.

At the back end of the room, there was a grand fireplace against the wall. A warm fire was blazing wildly, much like the one in the Gryffindor common room when she came to visit her friends. There wasn't much else in the room except a large knit rug on the floor and a sofa in front of the fireplace. The fire was the only source of light in the room, which gave the room a sense of comfort. She looked to Draco, who was already looking at her with a smile.

"I didn't want to do anything too extravagant. So I went for simplicity." He explained.

He led her into the room and they sat down on in front of the fire. Without thinking, Y/n rested her head on Draco's shoulder, staring into the flames. The boy next to her pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her gently.

"You don't mind that this wasn't expensive or somewhere more fancy?" He asked worriedly.

Y/n shook her head, leaning more into him; "As long as I'm with you, I don't care."

Draco lightly gripped her chin and tilted it up so she looked into those beautiful grey eyes. He smiled again at her before connecting their lips in a sweet kiss.

Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, not wanting this moment to ever end. Screw Fred and George, screw the dare, screw the potion, the only thing that mattered to her right now was being here with the boy she was in love with. The two ended the kiss and Y/n snuggled against Draco's warm body. She could hear his heart rhythmically beat in chest and realized that her heart was beating in unison with his. She just wanted to stay like this, with him. But she could feel the outline of the potion in her pocket, a constant reminder that this had to end, no matter how much she wished it wouldn't. Yet, she still couldn't bring herself to give it to him now.

I'll give it to him later.....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many hours and 'laters' had passed and Y/n still could not bring herself to give Draco the damn potion. She leaned against the sink in the girl's first floor bathroom, avoiding the second floor so Moaning Myrtle wouldn't see her. Tears flowed down her cheeks, as she sobbed to herself quietly. Sooner or later, she had to do it. There was no more delaying it. Though it tortured her heart, Draco didn't deserve to be taken advantage of. If she truly loved him, she knew that she had to let him go.

Sniffling and drying her tears, she made herself a little more presentable before she left. She had to find Draco and do the right thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't until dinnertime that Y/n found Draco. She was seated next to him, dreading what was going to happen next. Seeing him turned away from his goblet, she quickly snatched it. Her hands shakily grabbed the potion from her pocket as she twisted open the cork. She took a deep breath, settling her nerves as she poured the potion into his drink. She placed it back on the table, trying her best not to break down. Draco turned around, glancing at her with worried eyes.

"What's wrong, Love?"

There it was again. That damned pet name. Her lip trembled but she refused to show Draco how upset she was. In a few moments, he wouldn't care anyway. In fact, he'd probably taunt her for how she was feeling. She forced a smile, putting her hand over his.

"I'm just so happy that I can call you my boyfriend." Y/n said, willing her voice not to crack near the end.

Draco grinned softly, pulling her into a hug. "I love you so much. I can't believe that I can call you mine, even after all these years..."

The words were like a knife to Y/n's chest. He let go of her before grabbing his goblet. Y/n held her breath, before realizing that it was probably best if she left before he came to his senses. She whispered to Draco that she needed to go to the bathroom and got up. As she was exiting the Mess Hall, she could feel the tears running down her cheeks.

Don't look back. Don't look back. Don't look back. Her mind begged her. Y/n couldn't help it, she wanted just one last glimpse of the boy she loved before he disappeared forever. She turned and caught Draco's eye. He was in the middle of drinking his pumpkin juice before he noticed the tears rolling down his cheeks. He placed the goblet down quickly, standing up suddenly. Y/n, noticing she had been seen, turned around and began sprinting away from him. She didn't want to hear his teasing or his mean insults when she was so used to hearing his compliments. Her heart was already torn to shreds and she wouldn't be able to handle the reality that the boy she loved was gone.

She didn't know where she was going nor did she care, she just ran away. Eventually, she found herself at the top of the Astronomy Tower. She had ran to the only place that would provide her any source of comfort. She looked around at the familiar walls of the tower, feeling her heart ache as she reminisced about every time that Draco would bring her here. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't notice Draco sneaking up behind her and taking her hand in his, ensuring that she could not run away from him.

Y/n snapped out of her thoughts and she was met with those stupidly beautiful grey eyes again. They were full of worry, love and pain and she felt as though she were drowning in them.

"Y/n, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Draco asked, worriedly.

Y/n was about to reply before she realized something.

"Wait a moment. Aren't you suppose to be hating me right now?" She asked.

Draco gave her a little smile before replying; "I guess your anti-love potion didn't work."

"You knew?!" Y/n shrieked in surprise.

"That you slipped a potion into my drink because of a dare? Yeah, I knew."

"When??"

"Since the very beginning." He replied calmly. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. As Y/n squinted, she noticed it was the poem he wrote during their date. He held it out for her to see, hovering his wand over it. He muttered a spell and some of the letters began to cross themselves out while some turned green.

(Y/n), we haven't been together for long,

Yet, I feel obligated to write you a song.

To confess the deep affections I hold for you,

And I hope you feel the same way too.

This may seem quick, yet I know you are the one.

You may scoff at me, but my heart cannot be stolen by just anyone.

My feelings for you have changed so much,

Switched with a simple touch.

This love you have given me is a drug,

Intoxicating, addicting and given by hugs.

I assure you that my love for you is not fake,

No, there has been no mistake.

A goblet of pumpkin juice,

Raised to you in truce.

You return the gesture, as if it was planned,

A cup of (f/d) in your hand.

I love everything about you,

I could not say anything more true.

I love how clever you are or how beautiful you always look,

Merlin, if I could write it all down, I'd write a bloody book.

Know that this is no joke.

Your love envelops me like an invisibility cloak.

We've stitched our love together with needles and red thread,

It's about time we've set aside our differences and learned to accept them instead.

The world has given me such an amazing girlfriend.

I never want our time together to end.

Love is often called weak, useless, something you should not feel.

You have shown me the hidden strength that love has concealed.

Potions class was where our love first began,

If I were to leave it now, I'd be a mad man.

I wrote this poem for you, filled with endless rhyme,

To show that I love you, (Y/n), until the end of time.

Y/n felt like a fool. All this time she had been played with by Draco Malfoy. She wished the floor could swallow her whole so she could escape this embarrassing situation. She hung her head in shame, feeling her cheeks turn red.

"So....all this time...you were just faking it?" She asked, her voice cracking.

Draco lifted her chin so she looked back into his eyes. Instead of them being cold like she had expected, they were warm and full of affection.

"Who said anything about faking?" He said softly.

He pulled her into a hug, letting her cry into his shoulder. "I love you, Y/n. I'm sorry about the past and how nasty I was to you. I've truly changed and I am deeply in love with you."

Y/n sniffled but didn't reply. Her head was spinning as she was still trying to process everything. This whole time, he knew and he was....in love with her?

Draco released her, fumbling through his pockets before he took out another piece of paper. He looked back at her with a smile.

"I have one last thing for you." He said as he straightened out the paper and read what he had written.

Our love began with hatred.

We hated each other right at first sight.

Constantly bickering and starting fights.

Hatred, such a powerful emotion,

Until you spelled me with a love potion.

Our first date was at Hogsmeade,

Where I gave you my coat to keep you warm.

Perhaps, it was then where my hate began to transform.

At the end, I gifted you a (f/c) quill,

Which gave you quite a thrill.

Our second date was at the Astronomy Tower,

I had a surprise waiting for you, excitedly dragging you higher and higher up the stairs.

Quickly going up, with no time to spare.

I had prepared a picnic for us, with a wonderful view.

While you enjoyed the sunset, I couldn't take my eyes off you.

It was there that I had gifted you with a necklace made of silver.

It shined like a sparkling river.

Then, I had to save you from a jealous Parkinson, who bound you in ropes and stole the gift.

Which had the both of us quite miffed.

Our third date consisted of a study date.

You had an upcoming Potions test,

Which gave you quite a lot of stress.

Together, we reviewed everything,

From Unicorn Blood to Billywig Sting.

The next day, you wrote your test and came out with an Outstanding, just as I had proudly claimed.

Your smile that day was something that simply couldn't be contained.

Our fourth date was not exactly a date, nor was it a very fun day.

You had come to watch my Quidditch game, after I had practically begged you over and over again.

Though, that plan went down the drain.

You were pushed off the stands by that jealous twat.

Falling closer and closer to the ground like a graceful acrobat.

Everything stopped, and I didn't care if you hated me.

I saved you and managed to get you to safety.

Our fifth date was at the Black Lake.

I had you brought you there in hopes of simply spending the day with you.

There wasn't anything else I wanted to do.

The date was cut short when Parkinson showed up,

Trying to get us to breakup.

Though, we quickly managed to get our revenge on her.

Watching you, I felt something in me begin to stir.

Our date ended with you falling asleep in my lap.

The sixth date was at Zabini's party.

I had asked you for a dance, which you had accepted,

Which was quite unexpected.

We swayed to the music and danced all night long,

To a romantic love song.

That night was the first time I had ever kissed your lips, something I had secretly wanted to do for a long time.

And I knew then, that I wanted to be with you for a lifetime.

Our seventh date is this one.

The one where I finally revealed to you that I had known all along.

I can't hold it back anymore, it felt wrong.

The one where I finally confess my hidden feelings for you.

Where I hope you feel them too.

What I'm trying to say is that I love you,

This love overwhelms me until I don't know what to do.

Nothing was faked, that I promise.

I swear that I'm being honest.

Everything had been real; my feelings, how much I cared.

Surely, you can remember all those good times we shared.

I hope that everything has been real from you; how you blushed around me,

The smiles you give me that were so lovely,

How you loved my gifts, how you defended me from Potter,

This sounds like a love story written by an unknown author.

I have always claimed that I loved you.

This was always true,

Y/n, what about you?

Now, I must ask you the same question but with more courage than ever,

Will you be my girlfriend, for now and forever?

He finally looked up from his paper to see her shaking with tears still running down her cheeks. He truly loved her and he was asking her out for real, this wasn't a dare anymore. She didn't consider them enemies anymore, she had forgiven him so long ago.

"What do you say, Love?" Draco asked with a hopeful expression.

Screw it. To hell with it all. She had fallen for her enemy and now she could say she was absolutely, madly in love with him. Nothing else mattered as she uttered her answer.

"Yes." Y/n said, feeling all the tension leave her body as Draco came closer to her. He lifted her chin and connected their lips in a passionate kiss. There was so much love shared between the two. When the two broke apart, Draco held her tightly in his arms.

"I love you, Y/n." Draco whispered.

"I love you too, Draco."

**********************************************

And with that, the Love Potion series is finally complete! I didn't realize it but this series took me a year to write. I'm incredibly sorry to have made everyone wait so long for each part. I also want to explain that Love Potion was always meant to be super cheesy and fluffy. It wasn't suppose to be really angsty, it was just going to have some light angst. This is the reason I chose not to write an ending that would leave everyone feeling sad. I know the story is rushed, but the plot was only suppose to be a week. I hope this story didn't feel too rushed. I also may have rushed the ending but I really wanted to get this out, as I had realized that I made everyone wait long enough. Thank you to everyone for reading this series and enjoying it! Thank you for sticking with this story until the very end! Now, I can get on with the requests piling up in my inbox! If you have any requests, feel free to message me or leave it in my inbox. Until next time.

-Jade

[flowerslut]

DAY TWO: SOULMATES Rated: K+ for mentions of death. Words: 3,701

When you’re born with a dead soulmate, what more can you do?

THE CORPSE’S BRIDE

Disposing of newborns was far from Jasper’s favorite thing to do. He’d been forced to improvise as the years dragged on, using distraction, lies, and manipulation to lure the doomed vampires to their final resting place. Anything to keep their emotions from striking him harder than physical blows could.

He was finishing up cleaning out their lot—this year’s newborns had been a disappointing crew, not strong or skilled enough to help them gain back their eastern lands—when the strange feeling first took hold of him.

He’d been mid-sentence when he paused, turning to look around at the dark plains, their abandoned shack way off on the horizon.

The newborn he was to dispose of, a mild-mannered man who shook during battle yet had somehow avoided defeat all the same, turned as well, his eyes fearfully raking across the area as well, no doubt terrified that something he couldn’t see had caused the Major to stop and react.

Jasper brushed the feeling away as he turned back toward the man, lifting a disarming hand to give an almost-friendly smack against his shoulder, sending forth a wave of indifference as he led them forward. He couldn’t lead the man too far forward or he’d undoubtedly smell the venom that was seeping into the ground several hundred yards away, and he’d understand where the rest of their new crew had gone.

But it was in that instant, as he was patting Niko’s shoulder, that Jasper saw it, bright against his pale, scarred skin. He froze again, and any air of comfort he’d been carefully cultivating vanished into thin air as shock set in fully.

Niko reacted the same as Jasper, jumping slightly to twist out of the way of Jasper’s frozen arm, his frightened eyes looking from Jasper’s face to his wrist, and seeing the sight immediately.

A gasp shattered the silence, and for the first time since they’d changed him the previous winter, Niko stopped shaking. Instead, wonder filled the man and he stepped closer to examine Jasper’s wrist.

“A soul mark,” he whispered, red eyes wide as he leaned closer—but not too close, he knew better—to look at the tiny red heart that almost looked to be glowing. The man smiled then, still wracked with shock, and turned toward Jasper, “you have a soulmate! I—”

Jasper ripped his head off then, trying to act as quickly as he could to prevent the doomed man from speaking any further. As fast as he could manage he grabbed the remains and brought them across the clearing, tossing the body onto the rest.

He didn’t realize he was now shaking until he realized he couldn’t light the match.

His eyes moved straight toward the tiny mark again.

There was no way he could hide it. And even if he did what his brain was currently considering, and if he ripped the portion of flesh away with his own teeth, Maria would know.

She always knew.

Maria, whose own tiny heart was now a tragic, black color. Her mate—her soulmate—long dead and gone.

Eventually he lit the match, ignited the pyre, and turned to make his way back to the shack at the edge of the horizon.

If anything, Maria would see it, witness his indifference, and be pleased. What better way to pledge your loyalty then to overlook a newly minted wrist, fresh with the promise of true love?

Stomping his way back to Maria, he inhaled deeply, mouth filling with venom as he realized they’d get to go into town and feed now.

What was supposed to be the allure of love when fresh blood tasted so sweet?

————————————

It wasn’t until years later—nearly two decades since the mark appeared on his wrist—that Maria finally commented on it.

They were going over strategy for an upcoming encounter when Maria made a sad noise, her tongue clicking with pity as amusement began to radiate from her.

“Ah, muy triste.”

Jasper ripped his mind off their carefully-drawn map to meet her eyes. He didn’t need to follow her gaze to know exactly what she was looking at.

“Tu amor,” she frowned dramatically, her lip jutting out in a way that made Jasper suddenly angry, “está muerta.”

His eyes fell upon his soul mark instantly, but the red mark was gone. In it’s place, one that was startlingly familiar. A mark he’d seen on Maria’s wrist as long as he’d known her. A tiny black heart; indicative of a dead soulmate.

His soulmate, wherever they were, was now dead.

He forced himself to not care, ignoring the way the universe seemed to shift around him in that instant, and continued planning out their next course of attack.

His soulmate hadn’t mattered to him during their life; he’d be damned if they mattered to him at all dead.

————————————

When Lillian Brandon grew pregnant with her first child, she’d been elated. She’d been married for barely six months when her body began to weaken as her stomach began to expand. It was a hard, unforgiving pregnancy, but Lillian kept her spirits high, too excited about the prospect of a child of her own to care. 

Edgar, her husband, wasn’t a warm man. If anything, ‘business’ man could go at the top of the list of words used to describe him. She was sure he had colleagues with words far more descriptive, and far more cruel. But throughout her pregnancy, he pulled back from work, making it so that she never went without so much as a sip of water.

Through the months her body was racked with illness, the pregnancy something her slight frame could just barely handle, and by October of 1901 she knew that it was nearly time.

Two days into the month Lillian’s health took a nosedive, and Mary-Alice Brandon was born into the world.

Born cold and unmoving, suspected to be stillborn, she didn’t cry when introduced to the world. Her eyes calm and open and seeing from her first few minutes. Mary-Alice had all ten fingers, all ten toes, and a tuft of barely-there black hair on the crown of her head.

One thing Mary-Alice didn’t have, was a red soul mark.

The whispers floated through the hospital despite Edgar’s swift demand that her tiny wrest be covered immediately. While other babies born with a soul mark were all the same—small, red, and heart-shaped on the inside of a wrist—Alice’s had been different.

Mary Alice Brandon had been stamped with a full black mark, indicating something that only older adults and those struck by tragedy knew: a dead soulmate.

After Lillian was stable enough to hold and feed her baby, she examined the girl’s tiny wrist, held the infant close, and cried with all of her might.

————————————

It wasn’t until the marks began to appear, that they knew something was wrong. Those with living soulmates enjoyed many features of having a person tied to them beyond what could be seen or felt. Some had dreams that were shared. Others enjoyed eerily similar tastes in food and aesthetics. Lillian Brandon had a cousin who could feel his soulmate’s pain as if it were his own; an experience that was as scary as it was rare.

Alice was four days old when the first mark appeared. 

Scar marks weren’t uncommon, but to gain them meant one thing: you had a soulmate, and they were being hurt.

Mary-Alice had been gifted with a dead soulmate from birth. When the first bright purple crescent moon splotch appeared on her tiny forearm, Lillian had almost fainted.

Edgar had been beside himself with frustration, demanding that local doctors and clergymen help fix his infant daughter, using sums of money to ensure the utmost discretion.

But the marks never remained for longer than a week at a time. And by the time the baby was several weeks old, she’d already had a rainbow of marks appear across her limbs, and fade within days.

When Mary-Alice was four months old, the first mark appeared on her face and Edgar swore to Lillian that no child of his would be caught around town with a black heart and a mottled face.

————————————

Lillian theorized heavily for many years, trying to make sense of the marks that appeared and disappeared on her daughter’s skin, despite the proof of her true-love already lost.

It wasn’t until Mary-Alice was a girl, attending school with as much cover as they could get away with under the Mississippi sun, when they grew alarmed.

“He’s out there Mama,” Mary-Alice had smiled up at her mother, her two front teeth missing. “It’s okay. I’m not sad. You shouldn’t be either.”

When Lillian had made Mary-Alice swear to never repeat those words to her father, the girl had frowned, nodded, and skipped away. Her hair was braided down her back, dancing as she moved, revealing a sour yellow mark against the back of her neck.

————————————

When Mary-Alice was eight a group of boys on the schoolyard cornered her. A pink mark that bisected her face in two had appeared in the middle of their arithmetic lessons, causing a bit of a scene and a hefty disruption.

Miss Palmer had dismissed their lessons early that day, unable to control the unruly class, some children jeering, others screaming at Mary-Alice, who refused to even look ashamed at the mark. And when the child refused to move herself to the back of the room to continue on with the school day, the frazzled teacher had sent them all out.

The comments and taunts were routine now, but she hated them all so severely for each insult hurled her way as they circled her, laughing and preventing her escape.

“Off to the graveyard Mary-Alice?”

“How many dead people do you kiss?”

“Enough to try and find your husband?”

“Is it true the morgue lets you check all the arms before they bury the bodies?”

“Aye, Mary-Alice! Old man Kemper’s been dead three weeks now! Maybe he can help you find your husband!”

“Maybe she’s a witch—she’ll show up in a few years with her undead husband still covered in dirt and worms.”

Then, the boy with the lightest hair grabbed her shoulder and turned toward his friends. Alice tensed under his touch. The boy, Wilhelm, always knew what to say to get under her skin, and to push things too far. “Hey, hey. Maybe she is. But maybe he’s deader than a doornail and always has been! That’s why Mary-Alice gets so upset. She knows he’s never comin’ to find her and that she’ll probably die lookin’ for him! There, there, Mary-Alice,” he turns toward her and frowns, patting her shoulder with fake sympathy.

The surrounding boys all began to frown and nod, some of them fake-crying as they called out “Oh, poor, poor Mary-Alice! A husband deader than a doornail! Long dead and gone and never coming ‘round for supper! A dead-man’s soulmate!”

Mary-Alice ripped herself out of her classmate’s grip, put her arms in front of her and charged, pushing her way through the boys who called after her even as she easily escaped their circle. “Be quiet! Be quiet! Be quiet!” She shrieked. 

As she ran back home, tears stinging her eyes, they laughed and laughed and laughed.

————————————

Edgar put an end to the girl’s schooling not long after.

It wasn’t until the third day of home-lessons, upon realizing that this was to be a permanent fixture in her life, that she threw a fit.

“It’s not fair,” she yelled at her father when he returned home from work that evening, stomping her foot, her fists curled at her sides. “He’s out there! I’m serious!”

“Enough, Mary-Alice!” her father had bellowed, but when he lifted his hand to physically silence her, the girl flinched backward, out of reach of her father’s arm. “I am tired of these ridiculous ideas! You need to move past this… this soulmate business!”

“But he is,” Mary-Alice pointed to the orange mark on her palm, “he is alive! See?”

“You are to stay home to continue your schooling,” he spoke the words with finality. “Until you can get these wild dreams out of your head and control your rantings, you will remain here.”

And that had been that.

Mary-Alice cried herself to sleep that night. And the next night. And the next.

————————————

Mary-Alice was fourteen when she first saw her father with his wrist uncovered.

Well. No. She was fourteen when she saw the vision of the moment in which she would discover her father’s uncovered wrist.

She would be helping Cynthia prepare for a walk around the block, tying the young girl’s bonnet under her chubby chin, when her father’s form would catch her eye. His back would be to them where he was standing by the door, adjusting the deep brown band he’d always kept fastened around his left wrist.

An act of clumsiness would cause the band to fall to the ground. And he was none the wiser to Mary-Alice’s attentive gaze as he leaned forward, fetching the band to reattach it to his limb.

But in the seconds it took for him to grab the band, Mary-Alice would see the tiny space where a heart should have been, but wasn’t.

It would stun her into silence and she’d force her gaze back down to her little sister, managing a weak smile at the sound of the young girl’s prodding.

Back in the present day, Mary-Alice was still fourteen. The bonnet she would tie around Cynthia’s chin had yet to be purchased. And Edgar Brandon’s wrist was still firmly covered at all times. In the back of her mind she realized that in her strange absence from the present—something that happened more and more often as she grew older—she’d dropped a glass of water, sending it shattering and wet across the kitchen floor, but she couldn’t bring herself to react.

Shock was quick to strike, but betrayal sank deep into her bones, forcing her feet to remain planted.

Her mother had never hid her own soul mark. The white heart indicated that not only did she have a soulmate, but she’d met them. Most couples with soul marks that were together had matching white hearts. She’d even once witnessed, at the market, a meeting of two people. She’d watched, stunned as the man’s red heart slowly turned to pink and then to white, the newly-acquainted couple hugging tightly as the realization struck them.

Now, she found herself stunned at an entirely new realization.

Her mother had a soulmate, whom Mary-Alice had assumed was her own father.

Her mother had a soulmate. And her father didn’t.

They weren’t soulmates.

————————————

The discovery that her parents weren’t soulmates marked a changing point for Mary-Alice. She realized her father would never understand what she was going through; perhaps he was even jealous, she theorized once.

It also marked a point in time where Mary-Alice’s visions weren’t just rare occurrences, but now nearly daily disruptions. She would walk into door frames and stumble down stairs. She burnt herself on the stove and her first reaction wasn’t to remove her hand but was ‘I wonder if he’ll have a mark here’.

She refused to believe that her soulmate was dead, despite what the heart on her wrist said. She didn’t have visions of him. Instead, in her dreams, vague feelings struck her, bringing her hope, comfort, and a feeling so warm and exhilarating she could only describe it as love. She had a vague idea of what he might look like. Tall, she thought. With honey-blonde hair.

He was peppered with scars. He had to be. The colorful marks she still regularly found herself sporting confirmed it. Maybe he’d been ill as a child, or an infant, and maybe the universe had been wrong to mark her heart as greyed instead of full of life. Maybe he lived in a horrible place, around horrible people who hurt him constantly. Maybe his heart was beating, just broken. Metaphorically dead instead of literally.

All Mary-Alice knew was that her soulmate was out there, and that she would one day find him.

————————————

The day they buried her mother, Mary-Alice’s mind was far away.

She couldn’t think about anything except for whoever had Lillian’s matching heart. It was surely as black as her own, now.

————————————

Her first night in the hospital, Mary-Alice laid on her cot, eyes swollen shut from crying, throat raw from the screaming she’d done over the past few days.

The nights morphed into days, and together they formed weeks, and then months.

The treatments grew stronger until Mary-Alice knew that she wouldn’t be herself soon enough.

During one of the last night’s she was lucid enough to recall who she was, she contemplated digging words into her skin. If her soulmate also received marks whenever Mary-Alice was injured, maybe she could send him a message.

That night with a sharpened fingernail she carved the words ‘HELP ME’ into her thigh.

The next day they increased the intensity of her treatment.

The following day she forgot who Mary-Alice was.

————————————

Wandering rainy streets wasn’t something Jasper enjoyed making a habit of. After all, humans stared far more when a person looked out of place.

He wiggled his toes uncomfortably in the shoes he’d recently acquired and ducked beneath the awning of a closed down marketplace. It was Sunday and the humans had all made their way back from their services to their homes. The occasional automobile would roll through the streets but besides that, the area was quite empty.

It was something that didn’t bode well for Jasper. He knew it was wiser to wait until the night to feed, but he was so thirsty that he knew he would have to seek out a hobo sooner than nightfall before his self-control gave way.

A young couple ran past him, their shoes splashing through the pooled water on the sidewalks as they laughed, enjoying being caught in the sudden rainstorm.

Their scent wafted toward him, causing Jasper to take two steps toward them, entirely unintentional. It was when his eyes caught sight of their hands, joined tightly and swinging as they moved, that he was able to pull himself together and grind his feet to a halt.

Two matching white hearts stared back at him, and Jasper felt his chest ache.

On a list of regrets so long Jasper didn’t realistically have the time to even pen such a thing, disregarding the presence of his soulmate had slowly worked its way directly to the top.

It wasn’t something he’d given any thought to when his soulmate had been alive. And it wasn’t until years after that they he gave them a singular thought.

The night Maria had changed four newborns just west of Corpus Christi, Peter’s red heart had turned black. Jasper had been frustrated at the man’s distress for hours, abandoning his partner to the outskirts of town just to escape his emotional state.

When he returned that night, Peter had covered his mark with a torn piece of cloth.

It wasn’t until almost a year later, when he was slated to send Charlotte, a tiny, weak recruit, off to the pyres when Peter interfered.

“Look,” the blonde man had forced his wrist into his line of sight, Jasper smacking it away instantly with a glare. “It’s her, Major. You can’t do it.”

It had taken Jasper a few seconds for the meaning of everything to sink fully into his brain. Soulmate. Peter had had a soulmate. And she had died. But really, she had been turned. And it was his job now to kill her.

“Go,” Jasper spat quickly, not giving himself enough time to think about what he was doing. All he knew was that if the pair didn’t take his advice in the next five seconds, his hand would be forced and he’d have to kill them both.

He didn’t see them again until years later when Peter came back, pleading with him to follow.

And with his red-turned-black-turned-white heart impossible to ignore, Jasper followed Peter, and didn’t look back

Except, of course, to think about his own soulmate.

Peter and Charlotte had been almost eagerly supportive. After all, if they could find one another in their strange little immortal afterlife, what was to say that Jasper wouldn’t find his soulmate? They dragged him from city to city for a few years, and at first Jasper wanted to believe them. Of course, the idea of seeking out others of their kind was an asinine one—Jasper was sick of killing—but discovering that the north knew peace was almost too good to be true sometimes.

He’d last seen them four years ago. He’d grown weary. And their undying belief that he’d still find his person eventually made him miserable. In addition to the terror that haunted him with every hunt, Jasper had been barely holding onto whatever was left of his sanity for a long time now.

During his solitude he thought hard about his human life, wracking his brain for any information he could recall about soulmates, but he found himself coming up short. He couldn’t remember his parents names and faces, let alone whether they’d been soulmates or not. The only thing he was sure of was that he’d been born without a soul mark, given one around the turn of the twentieth century, and then soon after it had blackened.

Lifting his eyes, neon lights across the street earned his attention. It was a diner. Tiny, not-very-occupied. And with a quick decision he realized he could hide out in there until it emptied a bit more—and when the rain let up, he was sure that it would—he could help himself to a meal, and move on from this town.

He took one step into the street, pushing all errant thoughts of soulmates and soul marks straight from his head.

It would do him no good to think of things so hopeless.

————————————

In a small diner in 1948, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Alice found Jasper, Jasper found hope, and two black hearts turned white.

[nutmegalomania]

amuse me

a bakugou x reader ff

description: working at an amusement park might seem like fun and games, but when you're stuck with your coworker bakugou katsuki, things may or may not be amusing—to say the least. with the way the two of you sling insults back and forth, your fellow coworkers had nicknamed the two of you 'love birds', a nickname bakugou was quick to shut down every time it's brought up. on the other hand, maybe you wished the title were true, but you'd never tell him that. or maybe you would.

ingredients: bakugou katsuki/reader, bakugou katsuki, tsundere bakugou, swearing, amusement park, co-workers, roller coaster, ferris wheels, make out on ferris wheel, one shot

flavor: sweet 🍬

calories: 8,562

🥐

A bead of sweat trickled down the back of your neck, and even with all the fans blowing cool air around you, the heat didn’t dissipate as you sat at the control panel for the rollercoaster, people shuffling in line as they waited, whether from the intense heat or from nerves, you didn’t know. To distract yourself from the sweltering heat, you picked at the dirt beneath your manicured fingers and waited for the cars to return back to the station so the riders could exit and new victims—you meant, amusement park goers—could settle into their seats and experience the ride you operated. The shifting of those waiting in line rang in your ears and mixed with the heat to give you a headache.

The rails clinked as the cars returned, the riders sitting in silence with their messy hair from the wind, eyes wide as they processed what happened. You pressed the button to unlatch everyone’s bar that secured them in place, and little by little, the people pushed it out of their way and exited the cars, excitedly talking to their friends about how every twist and turn caught them off guard and how they’d be willing to ride it again. You didn’t miss the few glances sent back at you as a group of teenage boys whispered to each other about you, the comments about how pretty you were inflating your ego, and you offered them a little wave and smile, topped off by a wink that sent them blushing and scurrying away.

You chuckled to yourself and leaned back in your seat, relishing in the cool air that blew against your warm face. A burning sensation on your face that wasn’t from the heat grabbed your attention, and you dragged your eyes up to look at your coworker, Bakugou Katsuki, who glared at you, arms crossed and forearm muscles flexing as his eyes told you to hurry up. With a roll of your eyes, you grabbed the microphone on the control panel, and after hitting the button below it, urged the people waiting to file into their cars and ready themselves for departure. You pressed the button to lower the seat bars and watched as Bakugou went around to each person to check their seats to make sure they were secured.

Air blew through your nose as you suppressed a laugh from escaping your mouth as you watched a girl twirl her hair around between her fingers, eye-fucking Bakugou as he leaned forward to push the bar down, and you didn’t miss the way she placed her hand on the bar before he retracted his. He offered her a nod with a deadpan face, and you covered your mouth as the girl sat there with wide eyes. Another girl called out that she thought her seat was loose, and Bakugou sighed before he walked over to her to check her seat, which you knew was fastened well. Another day, another attempt at the girls to flirt with Bakugou, though he met each attempt with the same bored expression. Once he pulled away from the cars and stood off to the side, you grabbed your handy-dandy microphone again and tapped it a few times to test it.

“Are you all ready to depart from the station?” you asked with your best announcer voice, and a few mumbles met your ears. You shook your head. “I couldn’t hear you! I said, are you ready to depart?” This time, a loud chorus of voices cheering “yes” answered you, and you smiled while Bakugou gave you an irritated look. You ignored him and focused on the buttons in front of you, a small smile spreading on your face as you eyed the red button in the center, aka your favorite button to press. “Okay! You’ll be departing in… Three… Two…” Before you reached one, your hand dipped down to slam into the red button, and the roller coaster shot off from the station, confused screams echoing as the people shot forward without warning.  

You turned your attention towards the people waiting in line, and you offered a sickly sweet smile and wave of your hands as they gave you frightened looks. Bakugou made his way over to you, his shoulders shaking as he tried to hide his laughter. He stood beside your little hut and leaned his forearms against the window.

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” he said, and you let out a scoff.

“Says you. I saw you trying to hold back your laughter. This is like the fiftieth time I’ve done this, so you shouldn’t be surprised anymore. Plus, it’s the only thing keeping me from running away and dunking my head into a bucket full of ice.” You shuddered as another bead of sweat rolled down your spine, and an idea came to your mind. You turned your head to the side and gave Bakugou your sweetest smile and tilted your head. “Would you be a dear and buy me a cool drink? I might just pass out at this rate,” you said.

“No.”

Damn, you didn’t expect him to shoot you down right away.

“Why not?” you whined, really wanting a cool drink to help with the headache and heat stroke.

“Because you’re gross. Don’t try to treat me like those pubescent boys you love flirting with. Makes you look ugly.”

“But I have a headache,” you said, and he rolled his eyes.

“Not my problem,” he said, and he pushed himself off from the window. Before he could leave, though, you grabbed his arm to keep him there, and he looked at you with annoyance.

“Now look here, Ba-chan,” you said, loving the way his jaw twitched at the nickname he so hated from you. “I’m not the one who came to work late now, am I? I’ve been here two hours longer than you have, meaning I’ve had to work in this sweltering heat two hours more than you. I had to walk back and forth those two hours because you weren’t here to do your job, so the least you can do is get me a drink as a thank you for my hard work.” You leaned in closer to his face, and he flinched slightly at your proximity to his face. “You have about 10 minutes left before the next batch of people are up."

“First off, don’t call me ‘Ba-chan’, ugly,” he said, prying your iron grip from his arm. “And second off, stop bringing that up, you whore. The boss already chewed me out for being late, even though I told him I had to take an important exam, so I don’t need your annoying voice adding to my irritation. Get your own drink if you have time.” 

You retracted your hand and crossed your arms over your chest. “But I’m sitting down, and you’re standing up. It only makes sense that you go. I can even give you money, so just grab a drink. You already wasted like half of the time by doing nothing, shrimp dick. Now get going or I’ll kick you.”

“What did you call me, bitch?” He glared at you, and if you didn’t have millions of pictures of blackmail of him, you would have cowered in your seat from fear. Instead, he just looked like an angry pomeranian.

“Nothing, asswipe. Now go or I’ll tell Boss you tried to ditch work to fool around with a girl.”

“You manipulative slut.” He let out an exasperated sigh and ran a hand through his puffy hair. “I’m five seconds away from killing you right here and now.”

You bit your lip and gave him a wink. “That’s sexy.”

His lip curled in disgust. “Die. Just die, you disgusting excuse for a human being. I’ll get you your damn drink if it means you’ll never spew shit like that ever again.”

You tapped your chin and hummed in thought for a few seconds, hiding your smile as you watched Bakugou shift in place as he waited for you to say something. “Deal,” you said after a few seconds, and you shoved money into his hand before waving goodbye to him.

He didn’t miss the chance to curse you out as he stomped away from the ride towards the nearest drink stand, and those in the line watched him in silence as he disappeared. With him gone, you leaned forward and rested your elbows on the panel in front of you, your forehead positioning itself against your hands as you rubbed your temples in an attempt to alleviate your headache. It didn’t take long before Bakugou returned with both his hands full and a bucket clutched between his arm and torso. He stood behind you and shoved a cup of shaved ice into your hand while he placed the other cup he held into the bucket, which you found out housed ice water. 

You reached a hand up to ruffle his hair, shocked by how soft the strands felt against your fingertips. “Good boy,” you said.

“Yeah, whatever. Now don’t complain about your headache anymore. It’s annoying,” he said after he swatted your hand away from his head.

You smiled at him and spooned a chunk of shaved ice into your mouth, your eyes turning into crescents as you lost yourself in the refreshing feel of coldness that rushed over your body and mixed with the sweet flavorings. You hummed in content with a wide smile on your face, and Bakugou crossed his arms as he watched you eat.

“There’s a drink by your feet in the bucket if you get thirsty.” He pointed towards the bucket he placed near your feet, and you followed with your eyes.

“Thank you!” you said, and he rolled his eyes. You grabbed a spoonful of shaved ice and held it out for him. “Say ‘ah’!”

Bakugou gave you an incredulous look and pushed the spoon out of his face. “I don’t like that flavor.”

You huffed and plopped the spoon into your mouth. “You should have got one you liked so we could share it!” you mumbled around the spoon, your eyes trailing after a sweat bead that trickled down the side of his face and his neck before it disappeared underneath the collar of his shirt. 

“Just do your job,” he told you as he turned around and walked back towards the railway as the sound of screams and wheels screeching came closer. Though he acted like that, you didn’t miss the redness of his ears as his back became smaller.

“Fine, be that way, fucknugget. I’m never offering you any food ever again, bitch!” you called out to him, and he responded by flicking his middle finger at you. 

The cars returned, and you released the restraints and watched the riders stumble out of their seats towards the exit. You and Bakugou’s eyes met, and you stuck your tongue out at him, his hand tightening around his bicep as he suppressed the urge to strangle you. As the next group of people settled into their seats and Bakgo adjusted their seats, you pushed the button that shot them forward after they answered your question, not even bothering to count down. This time, Bakugou didn’t hold back his laughter, and you felt your chest warm as the sound spread through the air and reached your ears, bringing a small smile to your face as you watched his chest bounce from the laughter. Maybe you could handle being stuck here a little bit longer.

---

The moment one of your coworkers offered to take you and Bakugou’s roles at the roller coaster, you jumped on the chance to leave and get some well deserved rest. You and Bakugou walked side by side while you sipped on the Cola he bought for you a couple hours ago, no destination in mind. All you wanted to do was eat some good ass good and sprawl out on a comfortable chair instead of a rickety wooden stool that wobbled at the slightest movement. Your face lightened up when you spotted a group of your coworkers sitting around a group of tables, munching on burgers, pizza, and chilli dogs, and you rushed over to them to steal an empty seat. 

“Heyya, there,” one coworker said.

“Hi, Yurina. Junta, Mina, Daisuke, Haru.” You saluted them as you pulled out the chair and plopped down into it, spreading your legs out and slouching as Yurina slid you a slice of pizza. Bakugou took a seat across from you and fixed you with a disappointed look. You took a bite of pizza before you sipped on the Cola, the liquid disappearing and leaving behind a sucking sound that irked Bakugou.

“Shut up. You’re pissing me off,” he growled, and the other coworkers stopped their conversation to look between the two of you. Junta pulled out a bag of popcorn and munched on it while watching with wide eyes and slapped Mina’s hand away when she tried to steal some.

“What? I’m just finishing my drink off. Don’t get your panties in a twist, sweetums,” you fired back, and he clenched his jaw.  

“If you’re done, then you don’t need to keep sipping from it, fuckface.”

“I gotta make sure I get every last drop, okay? Just chill out. Eat a Snickers. You’re not you when you’re hungry,” you said, and your coworkers chuckled before they shut up when Bakugou turned his irritation towards them.

“Shut. Up.”

You leaned your head against the back of the chair. “Getting really creative there, aren’t ya, Ba-chan?”

“I’ll kill you, fuckslut.”

“I’d like to see you try, shrimp dick,” you shot back.

“Stop calling me that.”

You just shrugged your shoulders and shook the cup in your hand. The ice rattled around inside it, and a drop of condensation dripped down onto the ground as you sat there in silence. “But it’s the truth.”

Your coworkers froze as they waited for Bakugou’s reaction, and it didn’t take long for it to happen. The moment those words left you, he stood from his seat, the chair screeching against the ground, and stalked towards you. You crossed your legs to keep a distance between the two of you as he stood in front of you with neck veins popping. Your leg between the two of you didn’t stop him as he leaned forward, hands bracing against the arms of the chair as he brought his face close to yours. Your body tensed as you stared right into his eyes that burned with irritation.

“Do you wanna bet?” he said, and you gulped, cursing yourself for getting intimidated by him.

You tried to play your hesitation off by scoffing, and he cocked an eyebrow at your response. “What are you gonna do? Whip it out right now? I don’t think that would be a good idea. You don’t want to ruin everyone’s appetite now, do you?” 

“I really want to strangle you right now,” Bakugou breathed out, and you smirked at him.

“Do it then. I’ll enjoy it.”

Your response left him speechless, and before he could do anything, a coworker interrupted.

“Okay, that’s enough, lovebirds. We get it. The two of you are madly in love,” Yurina said, and Bakugou stared at her with a wide open mouth and disbelief in his eyes.

“Huh?! What makes you think I like this ugly bitch?” Bakugou questioned as he pointed a finger at you. 

You held your hands up in mock surrender, eyebrows raised as you leaned back in your chair even more. “Hey, I know I’m irresistible, Ba-chan, but to deny your undying love for me that hard? Sounds fishy to me.”

He whirled around to look at you, eyebrows furrowed and forehead creased. “You hate me just as much as I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, asseater. Whatever you say.” You waved a hand in front of your face in dismissal of his words, and he readied himself to stomp forward and wrap his hands around your throat to shake you by your neck.

Daisuke held up a hand to stop him. “Hey now. Don’t go attacking her. She’s like our mascot, so don’t mess up her cute face.”

Mina sighed. “I’m right here. I thought we agreed that I was the mascot of this amusement park.”

“You’ve got nothing on Y/N,” Haru said as he ruffled Mina’s hair and chuckled when she whined and slapped him.

“Yeah, if you’re gonna do something to her, Baku boy, do it where people won’t see it. I’d say your best bet is to kick her ass or give her a purple nurple. That would be funny!” Junta said, and Yurina stole the popcorn bucket from his hands and threw it away, much to the boy’s dismay.

“You should know better than to purple nurple a girl, stupid,” Yurina told him.

“I thought the name calling was Y/N and Bakugou’s thing…” he trailed off, and Yurina pinched him.

Before anyone could say anything else, Bakugou let out a loud sigh. “I’m off. See you losers later,” he said as he walked towards the park entrance, his hand raised beside him in farewell.

“Huh? But I thought we were having a nice conversation...” Haru said, but Bakugou didn’t respond.

“Boss is gonna get mad at you, Baku boy!” Junta called, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice. “You came two hours late and got off before everyone else. Get ready for another lecture tomorrow!” 

“Fuck off! I’m leaving cuz there’s nothing else for me to do, and all of you guys are pissing me off.” He flicked you all off before he disappeared out the entrance, and you took one last sip from your cup, wincing at the watered down taste of Cola hitting your tastebuds.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave! See you all later!” you said as you jumped out of your seat and dropped your cup full of melted ice mixed with droplets of Cola you didn’t quite get out. 

“Aw, come one! You’re gonna be a wet blanket just like Bakugou?” Junta asked, and you shook your head.

“I’d love to laugh with you over funny park goers, but I’ve had a headache for the past 4 hours, and it hasn’t gotten better. I’m going to take some medicine and catch some Zs so that I can return tomorrow in tip-top shape! Love ya!” You blew all of them a kiss before you skipped off after Bakugou to reach your car.

You saw your target fishing his keys out of his pockets, and you snuck forward before you jumped out and poked him in the side. He cursed and clutched his side as he whirled around at you.

“What the fuck, bitch. Don’t do that shit,” he cursed at you, and you giggled.

“Yeah yeah, I won’t do it again. Just wanted to say see you tomorrow, shrimp dick,” you told him, and he rolled his eyes.

“I hope you get your day off soon so you can leave me the hell alone,” he said before he slipped into his car and drove off without another word, leaving you waving at his retreating car. He rolled his window down and stuck his middle finger out at you, and you chuckled before going to your own car and sighing as you turned it on.

Oh, how you hoped you would get your day off soon, too. 

---

Your next day off came too late, in your opinion. A full week of sitting on a hard, wooden bench made your ass ache, and the constant summer heat didn’t help any, especially when it combined with Bakugou’s constant annoyed glares whenever you stopped moving to collect your bearings. Now, you could relax the whole day without worry of pubescent boys trying to flirt with you as the heat threatened to kill you. The only problem was you had no idea where to go. 

As the amusement park was your job and required a large amount of your time, it was the only place you could think of going besides maybe the mall or a cafe, which you had already stopped by on your way home from work the few days before to grab some cute outfits. You made sure to check the weather forecast this morning, and a smile stretched across your face when it showed that today would be a lot cooler than the past week had been. You decided to wear one of the new outfits you bought since the weather would permit it.

After you pulled on your jean shorts that showed off the curve of your body and stared at your ass in your body length mirror longer than you would care to admit, you pulled on a tank top and wrapped a flannel around your waist before finishing the outfit off with combat boots. You got into your car and drove off towards the amusement park to let yourself loose. Families and couples filed into the park, and you settled into the line to get your ticket before you walked around the park to find something to do. 

You decided to play at the arcade for an hour, too afraid to go on a ride by yourself. A few boys tried to chat you up, but one glare from you sent them turning away with their tails between their legs. When you died in your zombie game, you cursed and exited the arcade to find your next time waster. Outside a restaurant, you spotted two familiar people, one of them furiously twisting their head around to get a look at their ass. 

You walked up to them, and Yurina greeted you while Mina busied herself with pulling her shorts around to check them. A red splotch on them told you all you needed to know, and when Mina spotted it, her eyes widened.

“No, no, no , no! This can’t be happening. Oh my God!” Mina freaked out as Yurina checked her backside to be safe.

“Shit, you did bleed through. You don’t have any spare shorts, do you?” she asked the panicking girl, who shook her head and crouched onto the floor while she clutched her head.

“This is so embarrassing! What-what if one of the guys saw? Do you think they’d make fun of me?”

You crossed your arms. “If they do, I’ll beat their asses for you.” A hand reached down to the knot that kept your flannel secured around your waist, and you untied the shirt to hand it to Mina. “Wrap this around your waist. It’s thick enough, so it should cover it up. Plus, it’s red and black, so nothing should show up.”

“Oh, thank you, Y/N! I’ll make sure to clean it before I give it back to you tomorrow!” Mina said as she grabbed the shirt from you and wrapped it around her waist, bowing to you in thanks once she fastened it.

“Just don’t overwork yourself. I’ll be getting going now. There’s many more rides for me to go on!” You waved goodbye to the two of them and set off to your next destination: a food stand because hunger gnawed at your stomach. 

Though several restaurants stood around you and beckoned for you to come inside, all you wanted was a corndog from your favorite stand. The line wasn’t long, luckily for you, and you walked up to the window to give Haru a smile as he readied himself for your order.

“I’m guessing you just want what you always get,” he said, and you nodded.

“Yup! You know me so well.”

He shook his head as he busied himself with getting your food for you. “You should really get something else than just this all the time. It isn’t healthy, and it doesn’t taste that good.”

“Should you really be saying that about the food you’re making?” When he shrugged, you sighed. “You’re right, but I honestly don’t care anymore,” you said as you placed your money in front of him and leaned against the frame of the stand. “I came here just for you.” You winked at him, and he rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Just take your corndog and get out of here. You’re holding the line up.”

You took the corndog from him and stuck your tongue out at him before you left the line and worked on eating the hot dog on a stick. As Haru said, it wasn’t very good, but anything was good enough for your hungry stomach. You just wanted to see Haru in his cute little hat to recharge your battery, hence why it was your favorite stand.

The taste of wood hit your tongue, and you pulled the stick out of your mouth, the corndog gone. You flicked the stick into the trash can and hummed as you shoved your hands into your pockets while you walked around aimlessly. A familiar mop of fluffy blond hair caught your eye, and you hurried forward to catch the person as they stood in front of a drink stand. They looked off to the side, and you gasped.

“Ba-chan!” you said in surprise as you locked eyes with Bakugou, a finger pointing at him, and he scowled as he paid for his drink and left the line.

“Stop calling me that, asshat.” He took a sip of his drink and stepped towards you to drop your hand that pointed at him. 

You hmphed and crossed your arms. “Then what should I call you, huh?” A name crossed your mind, and you held back a chuckle. “How about ‘Tsukki’? Y’know, cuz Katsuki! Am I genius, or am I genius?”

“What the fuck…? No. No way in hell are you calling me that. Not even my parents call me that.” He glared at you as you giggled to yourself over your nickname for him.

“It’s either Ba-chan or Tsukki, sweetums. Take your pick.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “Fine. Just call me Tsukki.”

You squealed in excitement and fished out your phone, going to contacts—you forced him to give you his number in case of emergencies—and changing his name to ‘Tsukki 🤬💢🖕🏻💣💥'. “Ooh, what’s my name in your phone?”

“Annoying, useless shitfuck,” he said, and you stared at him. “What? It fits you.”

“Well then, if I’m so annoying, then I guess I’ll just stick to you the rest of your time at the amusement park.”

“No. Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Because I want to annoy you. Also, you’re alone, and I’m alone. It’s depressing going on rides without someone else. You’re my scapegoat so that people don’t judge me,” you told him, and he crumpled the empty cup in his hand and tossed it into the trash. Without a word, he walked in the other direction, leaving you behind to scramble up to him. “You didn’t answer whether you’d mind or not.”

He kept his eyes focused ahead of you and didn’t spare you a glance. “Just do whatever the hell you want.” 

A bright smile lit up your face, and you grabbed onto his arm, much to his surprise, and dragged him to a ride. Though it wasn’t as hot as the past week had been, the sun still bore down on you, and all you wanted was to cool off. The amusement park’s version of Splash Mountain moved on in front of you, people squealing or yelling when water splashed them. You kept a grip on Bakugou to keep him from running, and he didn’t try to shake you off. 

Your turn came, and you settled into the seat with Bakugou grumbling to himself as he climbed in next to you. You tapped your feet in anticipation, and the bar lowered. Junta came over to press them down, and his eyes widened when he saw you sitting next to Bakugou. 

“So you two finally decided to go on a date, huh? Took you all long enough,” he said as he secured the bar and pushed it up against your thighs.

“Like hell it’s a date. There are other people on this ride, so go secure them in, dipshit,” Bakugou snapped at him, and Junta chuckled before he went to the other passengers.

“You’re getting a little defensive there, aren’t ya, Tsukki? Are you sure you don’t want this to be a date?” you asked him as you wrapped your hands around his bicep to lean close to the side of his face.

“Your nails are digging into me,” he said, and you released him.

“Oh, sorry.” You placed your hands in your lap and sat straight in your seat. Before long, the ride started, and you sat stiffly in your seat as Bakugou stared off to the side with a bored expression. 

You let out a sigh as the cart rose up a small hill, ready for it to crash down and send water splashing all over you. The ride stalled at the top of the rise, tottering ever so slightly, and screams erupted when it shot forward down the steep slope into the water that waited at the bottom. You hummed in content as cool droplets of water splashed over you and drenched your warm body. You wiped wet strands of hair out of your eyes and pulled your shirt off of your body before you turned to the side to look at Bakugou. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth as you looked at his usually puffy hair sitting flat against his face, lips turned into a scowl as his bangs blocked his vision.

“You look like a wet dog!” You couldn’t hold back your cackles as you pointed at him and clutched your stomach as it began to hurt from how hard you were laughing. 

He pushed his hair back out of his face and glared at you as the cart pulled up to a stop and let you off. You kept laughing at him as he stomped off. After you let all your giggles out of your system, you rushed after him to drag him to the next ride. Though he complained, he still let you pull him around.

Even when you forced him to stand in line for the spinning teacups, he acted annoyed, but he never left the line and stood right beside you. He fixed you with glares whenever you spun the teacup as fast as you could, but he never yelled at you, the happy smile on your face enough to keep his mouth shut. With the wind whipping around you, his hair dried and returned to its puffy shape. Once the teacup ride ended, you pulled a wobbly Bakugou to bumper cars where you targeted him and harassed him while he cursed at you, earning a lecture from Daisuke about keeping the language to a minimum when children were around when the bumper cars stopped. 

You watched as Bakugou kept his head down while Daisuke chastised him, and you covered your mouth to hide your laughter. Daisuke let him off with a slap on the back, and he wished the two of you a happy date, which Bakugou gave him an earful for even suggesting. You then dragged Bakugou off to go-karts after he calmed down. The way you lapped him with ease made you wonder how he even got his license, but you kept that question to yourself. 

You and Bakugou slumped onto a bench to catch your breaths from all the running around you forced both of you to do, and you leaned your head back and spread your arms across the back of the bench. Bakugou braced himself on his knees as he took deep breaths. He leaned back against the bench, and when he hit your arm, he grabbed it and placed it in your lap.

“You’ve had your fun of dragging me around, so it’s my turn to choose where we go,” he said, and you nodded, not listening to what he was saying.

You wish you had because the rollercoaster he dragged you towards was one you’d sworn to never ride in a million years. The many loopty loops and steep drops coupled with twisting rails and sharp curves made you five seconds away from pissing yourself from fear. Just staring at it as the cars shot around it at a furious pace made your legs weak, and you readied yourself to run away. Too bad Bakugou had an iron grip on your wrist as he pulled you towards the stairs that led up to the platform. When you reached it, he urged you to go first, whether to keep your from running away when he wasn’t looking or to stare at the view of your ass, you didn’t know. 

With a trembling leg, you stepped up onto the first step and then the next, and the next, Bakugou right behind you. You felt eyes boring into your ass, and to hide your shaking, you glanced over your shoulder.

“Are you staring at my ass?!” you asked as you turned around to see your ass level with Bakugou’s face as you stopped climbing the stairs. He tilted his head to the side as his hand gripped the railing, and he fixed you with an annoyed expression.

“You’re the one shoving it into my face. Either hurry the fuck up or let me go in front of you if it bothers you that much, dumbass.”

“I’ll fucking sit on you, pomeranian,” you told him through clenched teeth.

“And I’ll push you off, shitlicker.”

You hmphed and started up the stairs faster until you reached the line for the roller coaster. Though you played it off and acted nonchalant about everything, you couldn’t hide the fact that your legs shook and that sweat formed on your hands and made them clammy. You’d never admit it to Bakugou, but you hated roller coasters, even though you worked at one with him. The twists and turns mixed with the zipping speed of the cars made you sick to the stomach. The line moved forward, but you stayed in place. Bakugou nudged you with his elbow, and you stumbled forward, your legs threatening to give out from underneath you at any moment.

“Get moving, dumbass. You’re holding the line up.” When you didn’t move, he leaned down into your ear, his hot breath fanning the shell of it. “Don’t tell me you’re scared. The Y/N who acts all high and mighty being scared of a little roller coaster? Unthinkable.”

“Shut up,” you ground out, and you forced yourself forward until you stood right against the gate that led to the platform, the batch of people in front of you settling into their seats and being secured in before Yurina started the ride and watched them shoot off. 

Shallow breaths came out of you as your chest heaved, and you clutched the railing to support your failing legs. When you just about crumpled to the floor, Bakugou wrapped an arm around your waist to steady you.

“Are you okay? If you couldn’t handle this roller coaster, you should have told me. We can exit the line now if you need to,” Bakugou told you, and you shook your head.

You looked back at him and gritted your teeth as you glared at him. “I’m… I’m not a pussy…” As the cars returned, you pushed yourself up, gave a worried Yurina a weary smile, and waited for the gate in front of you to open up and let you file out into your seat.

Once the people left and the gate opened, you trudged forward towards a seat somewhere in the middle, Bakugou trailing after you. With shaky legs, you clambered in, almost tripping as your leg fell down. Bakugou grabbed your arm to stabilize you, and you would never let him know how much his warm hand on your skin calmed you. Your leg bounced as you waited for a worker to secure the bar around you, and nerves ate at your stomach as the countdown for the ride started in your mind. 

Your whole body shook, and Bakugou wrapped his larger hand around yours to settle your nerves. If the iron grip you had on his hand hurt, he didn’t show it and let you lace your fingers with his to squeeze his hand like a stress ball. The gears on the cart groaned, and you jumped, clutching onto Bakugou’s arm and hiding your face in his shoulder. The fear overcoming you outweighed your embarrassment from relying on Bakugou, and when Yurina pressed the button and sent the carts off, you squeezed your eyes shut and held onto his arm for dear life as you felt the wind whip around you and throw your hair around willy nilly. Bakugou never let go of your hand, and whenever you clutched onto him harder, he squeezed your hand a few times to calm you. 

The ride came to an end, and you thanked all the gods you knew that it was over. You didn’t have to be told twice to get the hell off there. After throwing the bar up, you clambered over Bakugou to set foot onto the safe and stable platform. Your whole body shook, and bile threatened to come out of you. Bakugou climbed out after you and rested a hand on your back. He rubbed circles on your back while you walked towards the exit.

“Have fun, love birds,” Yurina called out to the two of you, and Bakugou didn’t say anything as he held onto your arms to steady you and lead you off of the platform and down onto the main walk areas. You stood in place at the base of the steps for a few minutes to make the shaking in your legs calm and your heart rate return to normal. 

“It was cute how you clung to me on the roller coaster. If I knew you’d be that adorable, I would have dragged you on it long ago,” he said to break the silence between the two of you, and once the words left his lips, his face reddened.

Your face mirrored his as the words sank in. “Sh-Shut up,” you stammered, still shaken from the roller coaster, and his words only added to your nerves.

“Sorry,” he said, and he zipped his lips. You weren’t used to a quiet Bakugou, but you were glad he didn’t resort to his usual curses or anger and instead let you calm down.

You took a deep breath once your heart returned to normal. The sky above you reminded you of cotton candy, and you realized how late it was becoming as the sun sank in the sky. The day was coming to an end, and you still had one thing left to do.

“Let’s ride the ferris wheel,” you said, and Bakugou blinked at you.

“No,” he told you with a shake of his head, and you rolled your eyes.

“Come on! No amusement park visit is complete without the ferris wheel! It’s a classic, Tsukki.” You gripped his hands and tried to pull him towards the line at the colorful wheel, but he didn’t budge.

“It’s so cliche though. Let’s just go on the Death Drop and finish there,” he said as he planted his feet to keep from moving. You almost fell as you pulled him, and you scowled at him when you regained your balance.

“Don’t be like that! There’s nothing wrong with the ferris wheel! Are you just afraid that others will misinterpret it?” You perked your eyebrow up at him, and his lip pulled back into an annoyed snarl.

“Hell no.”

“Then there shouldn’t be a problem now should there?” you asked, and he sighed.

“I guess not.”

You smiled, happy you won the small argument, and without a word, the two of you trekked off towards the ferris wheel line. Though it was long, your excitement to ride one after several years outweighed it, and the long wait seemed to pass by in a few seconds as you bugged Bakugou. Once your turn to get into a cart arrived, you didn’t waste any time yanking him into it. You settled down onto your seat, Bakugou taking his across from you, and the cart moved.

As the ferris wheel climbed in the air, you leaned against the window to peer down on the people below. You giggled as you watched the people scurry around on the ground, couples running off to rides together or parents corralling their kids to tables to eat. You peered over at Bakugou, who sat with his legs sprawled and arms crossed over his chest as he let out irritated sighs.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” you asked while you gave him a disgusted look.

“Nothing. Just let me enjoy one damn ride in peace,” he said, and your eyebrows shot up on your forehead as you stared at him in disbelief.

“Excuse me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Bakugou stared at you with slitted eyes. “Today was supposed to be my day off, but instead of being able to relax by myself, you come along and drag me everywhere. Then, when I try to go on a ride that I enjoy, you freak out and almost run off.”

“Well sorry that I thought maybe you’d have fun on bumper cars or go-karts.” You crossed your arms over your chest and returned the glare to him.

“That’s exactly what I mean. You thought I’d like them instead of actually asking me what I’d like to do.”

You blinked as his words sunk in. It was true; you had only dragged him around with you to rides you thought he’d enjoy instead of getting his opinion on the matter. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t think of it that way.”

Bakugou sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, clearly you didn’t. I have to deal with you every single day at work, and on the one day I thought I’d be free from you, I got stuck with you against my will.”

Okay, now that stung a little. You were all for the little name slinging you two had going on, but this wasn’t the same. His jabs at you dug into your heart, and you stood up from your seat and stalked over to him.

“And don’t get me started on the way you flirt with every boy that so much as glances at you. Could you be any more of an attention whore? If you want attention that badly, just go-” You didn’t let him finish as you fisted his hair in your hand and slammed your lips into his.

You swallowed his words as you tilted your head to the side and shoved your tongue inside his mouth, running it along the roof of his mouth. You clambered on top of him and straddled his legs. The sweet flavor of soda melted onto your tongue as you swirled it around his mouth and relished in the way he tensed underneath you. His hands gripped your waist as you placed both your hands onto the side of his face. A sudden realization hit you, and you pulled your lips off of his.

“Shit! I didn’t ask for permission.” You pulled away from him and placed your hands onto his shoulders while you stared into his eyes. “Can I kiss you, Tsukki? Because you keep talking, and it’s pissing me off, and the only other way I can think of shutting you up is to hit you.”

“Wha-?” His ears reddened, barely visible in the dimly lit ferris wheel cart, but the way he hid his face with the back of his hand and avoided your eyes made it obvious how flustered your question made him.

“Yes or no, Tsukki. If you don’t want to, I can climb off right now, and we can act like this didn’t happen. Just don’t keep insulting me to my face and think I won’t do anything about it.”

“Sorry…” he said as he looked into your eyes, apologies swimming in them, and his disheartened face tugged at your heart strings, but you wouldn’t let him manipulate you like that. “I said more than I should have and made you uncomfortable. I especially shouldn’t have called you an attention whore. You’re doing nothing wrong, but I just got mad that you weren’t looking at me and were focusing on the other guys that are leagues below you.”

“Jealousy isn’t an excuse, Tsukki,” you said, though you couldn’t stop your heart from swelling a little at the thought of Bakugou getting jealous over the random boys you decided to wink at. 

“I know. I will never do it again because thinking of how my words hurt you even if you try to hide it pains me.”

Though you didn’t fully forgive him for hurting your pride like that, you weren’t going to drag it out and make everything uncomfortable. Time heals all wounds, as they say. Plus, you were tougher than that. You brought a hand up to cup the side of his face.

“Are you going to answer my question now?” you asked, lips hovering over his while your thumb caressed his bottom lip.

“Please,” he breathed out, and you smiled before you tilted his head up to capture his lips with yours.

You pressed your chest flush against his, the warmth emitting from his body heating you up and making your mind fuzzy as you twirled your tongue around his. A hand went down from your waist to cup your ass, and when he squeezed it, you moaned into his mouth and rutted your hips against him. His bulge grew beneath you, and it took all your willpower not to drop to your knees right there to take him into your mouth.

Your hands gripped his hair to pull his head farther back, and you pushed yourself up onto your knees as you deepened the kiss. Both his hands grabbed onto your ass, and he kneaded the jean covered flesh in his large, calloused fingers. The feeling of his fingers against you made your body burn, and you bounced yourself on his lap as you rubbed your lips against his. The softness of his lips against yours became a quick addiction, and when your lungs burned for air, you pulled away for a quick breath before you dipped back down to capture his lips once more.

His eyes turned glossy as he lost himself in the feeling of your soft lips against his, a scenario he had only dreamt of before unfolding before him. Your body against his, pushing closer and closer to him out of desperation for his warmth and lips reminded him that this was very much real. 

You held his jaw in one hand as you pulled away from him, teeth gripping his bottom lip and tugging on it as he panted. His hands on your ass slipped down to your thighs and behind your knees. He used the chance to pull you forward, and you felt his erection pressing against you more. Your mouth went dry as it prodded you, and you smashed your lips together for one last desperate kiss when you noticed some movement when you pulled away from his lips.

Your tongues clashed in a mess of saliva and wet noises, but you didn’t care when you felt Bakugou’s arousal pressing into you. Your lips on his felt perfect, even better than you had imagined, and you never wanted to stop feeling them against yours. Your lungs begged for air, and you pulled away to stare into his glossy eyes, a string of saliva connecting your tongues that broke when you swallowed. Saliva dripped from his wide open mouth as he sat there in a daze. His hands on your ass gripped even tighter on you.

“As much as I’d like to continue this,” you gasped while you gripped the side of his face, thumb pressing inside the corner of his mouth and running across his bottom lip as you grinded your hips down onto the bulge in his jeans, relishing in the shuddering breath Bakugou let out, “I think the other passengers wouldn’t appreciate our public display,” you finished as you leaned in close to his face, lips centimeters from his. 

At that, Bakugou peered over your shoulder to see a group of teenage girls in the cart next to you guys, staring at the both of you and the position you were in with wide eyes and flushed faces. You gave them a smile, held a finger to your lips, and clambered off of his lap to sit across from him. They nodded their heads and turned their attention away from the two of you. Bakugou let out an exasperated sigh and covered his face with his arm as he slung his jacket over his lap.

“Fuck you,” he breathed out, and you chuckled as you crossed your legs and arms.

“I know you want to, but this isn’t the time or place, Tsukki. Have fun taking care of that by yourself!” you said, and he sighed once more before the ferris wheel stopped and let you hop off. You let out a sadistic giggle as he wrapped his jacket around his waist to hide his boner, hissing whenever he walked. When you passed a bathroom, you gave him a knowing look, and he flicked you in the forehead and went inside, saying all he was going to do was splash his face with some water until it calmed down. 

You waited outside the bathroom until he exited, wiping his hands with a wet wipe, and after he threw it away, you jumped in front of him with a wide smile. He gave you an incredulous look. You ignored the look and grabbed his hand before you dragged him forward as he stumbled behind you. “Buy me a churro,” you said as you faced him while walking backwards.

“No. Buy one yourself,” he told you, and you sighed.

“You really don’t have a single romantic bone in your body, do you?”

His eyes slitted as he glared at you, and you gave him a cheeky smile. ‘You…” He sighed and dragged his free hand down his face. As you pulled him to the nearest churro stand, he shook his head and pulled out his wallet while you excitedly stood beside him, waiting for your churro with wide eyes that sparkled like a giddy child’s. He paid for the churro and sat down at a bench, a smile reaching his face as he watched you chow down on the warm churro. He placed a hand on top of your head and ruffled your hair, eliciting a whine of annoyance from you. 

“You’re lucky you’re sexy or else I’d bite your hand off,” you told him, and he chuckled, sending warmth spreading through your chest at the sound. He bent down and licked a piece of frosting off the corner of your lip, licking his own and wiping with his thumb. You stared at him with wide eyes and a flushed face. He flashed you a smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Amuse me.”

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

The Love Cruise - by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Read on AO3: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Or on FF

Tagging:   @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda

Chapter 4: Captain Jones

“Do you think Barbados is ready for me?” Ruby stood, showing off her tanned body in her new bikini.

“Girl, I don’t think anyone is ready for you in that. Where’s the rest of it?” She spun around and Emma fanned herself, teasing her friend.

“Why are you wearing so many layers?”

Emma tugged her cover up tighter around her waist. “Not everyone can flaunt it like you can. I look like they lock me in the closet during the day and my body never sees the sunlight.”

“Oh stop, you’re sexy as hell, Emma. I’ve seen more than a few guys turning their heads when you walk by, though usually you are running away from them so they can’t catch you.”

“Whatever, I told you I’m not interested in finding a guy on this damn cruise.”

“Not even that guy, Graham, that asked you to dance?”

Emma scrunched her nose and shook her head. “He’s cute, and a great dancer, but, eh, I don’t know.”

“You know, he’s going to be with us today?”

“What? How do you know?”

“Because I talked to him after dinner and he’s on the same excursion we are.”

“If you’re so interested in him, why don’t you hook up with him?”

“I would if he wasn’t asking about you half the time.”

Emma groaned. “Can we just go? I don’t want to talk about men all damn day. I want to enjoy the beach, the sand, the ocean in Barbados. We are in fucking Barbados, Ruby. Together. When we are back in Boston and it’s raining, will we have these men to keep us warm? No, but we will have each other.”

“Ho’s before bro’s?” She giggled as Will walked into their room.

“Do I get to be a ho?”

“You are by far the biggest ho, William!” Emma laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Are you still mad at me?” She planted her lips on his cheek and he groaned, wiping the pink smudge off his face.

“I’m not bloody happy with you, but what’s a bloke to do? You’re my best friend and I can’t stay mad at ya.” He put his finger up to her face, “But don’t do that shit again. That girl won’t stop asking me about rum recipes now.”

“You didn’t seem too upset when she kept telling you how talented you were at the bar last night.”

“Wait, what did I miss?” Emma looked between the pair on either side of her.

“One of the bartenders let him make our drinks at the piano bar. You should have seen him playing it up, flipping bottles, acting like a goddamn bar hero. He was on his game.”

“I’m fucking talented as hell, that had nothing to do with that lass.”

“You were showing off.” Emma teased. “You do like her.”

“I do not.” He resisted, less forcefully than he had the day before. Emma was sure he liked her, but she was also sure that he was probably feeling guilty about liking her also.

“You know it’s ok to like another girl, Will.” Emma slid her hand onto the back of his head, pressing his forehead to hers. “Ana’s gone. You deserve to have some fun.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Why are you ladies always pushing me so hard to move on from Ana? What if I don’t want to move on?”

“You don’t want to move on because you’re too afraid to open yourself up again and maybe get hurt.”

“Besides, we love you, Boo.” Ruby added, wrapping her arms around them both.

“No Boo. You both promised, not here.” His mouth turned up in a grin. “But I love you guys too.”

~*~

“Absolutely not.” Regina stood with her arms crossed in front of her.

“You can’t work 24 hours a day, we get to leave the ship for a few hours, are you really going to deny this simply because I’m going?” Robin whined.

“Yes.” She said matter-of-factly.

“Ok enough of this, we’re going.” Killian gestured to Robin before turning around and pointing at Regina, “And you’re coming with us. Captain’s orders.”

“You can’t do that.”

Killian shrugged, “I just did. I’m not going to have my Cruise Director burned out 4 days into our voyage, we are going to imbibe in some alcoholic beverages in Barbados.”

“Fine, but it is under duress.”

“At least that will be two of us on this bloody cruise under duress.” He winked at Robin and the three of them left the ship in search of a good bar.

Being the Captain did have its perks, they were directed to apparently the best bar on the beach they could find and an hour later, sitting with their feet in the sand and a bucket of beer, the three of them found themselves engaging in nonviolent conversations.

Regina was laughing, “Wait, so you were just going to leave him there?”

“Of course, I was, he was about to start a riot.” Killian said as he felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes, his body shaking from his laughter.

“Do you remember what I said to the guy?”

They both looked at each other and spoke in unison. “The only way you'll ever get laid is if you crawl up a chicken's ass and wait.”

“Which one of you got punched first.” Regina eyed them with curiosity.

Robin raised his hand. “I ended up on the pool table. Killian tossed one of the guys into a stool. By that point, the manager threw us all out.”

“That was the last time we insulted the Captain’s son again.”

“You two really are idiots.” Regina quipped as she took another sip of her beer.

“But we had you laughing.” Robin winked.

“Only because I was imagining you getting your ass kicked.”

Killian nursed his beer, watching the two of them doing what he could only describe as violent flirting, until he started to feel like a third wheel.

“I’ll be back.” He announced, heading inside toward the bar, and discreetly paying the tab. “If they get anything else, just put it on the same card.”

Killian exited the bar and walked through the small town, browsing the shops until he followed the path toward the beach. He saw groups of travelers lounging on the sand or sailing on the water, most likely passengers on his ship.

He toed off his shoes and walked barefoot through the sand, looking up he saw her, laying on a towel, an oversized hat perched on her blonde locks, reading a book. She was gorgeous. Her friend, a tall brunette he had seen her with earlier was wearing a very tiny bikini, arching her back and taking in the rays to her already sun kissed skin.

There were others with them, the man she was laughing with earlier stood nearby talking to a shorter woman. A taller man with wavy hair was sitting just off to the side of Emma, he glanced at her often, but Emma seemed not to take notice, her head buried in the words in front of her.

He continued to walk along the wet sand, observing the woman who had captured his attention when she looked up, glancing at the waves out beyond him. He looked away quickly, reaching down to pick up a shell he nearly stepped on. When he looked up again, she was gone.

~*~

Emma was reading the same line over and over again in her book, trying to avoid the gaze of Graham, who was seated to her right. At first, she thought he was looking at Ruby, God knows if she were a hot-blooded man, she would be. But when she caught his eye, he smiled at her and attempted to make conversation. Emma froze and immediately buried her head in her book.

It’s not that she didn’t think he was attractive and extremely nice; she just didn’t know what to say to him. She knew he was a Sheriff in some small town in Maine and that her brother thought he was quite impressive, which made her not want to talk to him even more than she had before her brother started pointing out all the things they had in common.

She peered up from her book, a feeling washing over her like she was being watched. She peeked to her right, but Graham was talking to David and Will was finally having a real conversation with Belle as they bounced a volleyball back and forth between them.

Her eyes scanned the beach when she saw him picking up shells near the water. He seemed to look her way and then turned back toward the ocean.

“I’m gonna go dip my toes in the water.” She announced suddenly to Ruby who was currently lying ass up on the towel beside her.

“Have fun.” She replied lazily.

She jogged toward Killian who was facing the ocean now and skipped up behind him. “Are you considering throwing yourself in because if you are, I actually do know how to swim, in case you need saving.”

He turned suddenly and his bright smile made her heart skip a beat.

“Swan, fancy meeting you here.”

“Did you go on an excursion today?”

“No, I hung out at one of the bars a little way down the beach.” He pointed behind him.

“Drinking alone?”

“Oh, no I went with a few friends.”

“I didn’t realize you came with people. Or did you meet them here?”

“My buddy…” He paused. “Um, my buddy and I came together.”

“Did you ditch him?” She asked looking around for his friend.

“He is entertaining a lass back at the bar, felt like a third wheel. Have you been on the beach all day?”

“My brother dragged us all sail boarding, so I’m gonna be really sore tomorrow considering all the times I fell into the water, but it was a really good day.”

He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling as the sun beat down on him. “That sounds like you had a lot of fun.”

“Do you maybe want to get a drink later tonight?” She blurted out, wondering where that blast of courage came from.

He looked at his feet and she panicked. “I uh, I think I need to tell you something first.”

“Oh?” Suddenly there was screaming behind her on the beach and she turned to see Ruby yelling and running toward a group of people. “Oh, shit, I gotta…” She turned and ran toward Ruby, looking down the beach to what was causing her so much stress. August was lying on the ground, holding his leg.

“Oh God what happened?”

“We were playing volleyball and the old man slipped, I think he twisted his ankle.” Will said in a slight panic.

“I’m ok guys.” August groaned, “I think I just sprained it.” He stood up and then stepped down, immediately falling back down to his knees.

“Ok Mate, you’re gonna need help back to the ship, you’ll need the medic to take a look at that ankle.”

She was shocked when Killian sprung into the middle of the group, helping August to his feet. “Should we all go?” Ruby asked August.

“No, you guys stay here, have fun. I’ll just go back and make sure everything is ok.” August waved them all off.

“I’ll go with him; the sun is starting to burn my skin.” Emma announced and Killian made eye contact with her, a smile forming on his lips.

Emma stood on the other side of August, wrapping her arm around him to help support his other side. “Come on dad, let’s get you to a doctor.”

“Very funny, Emma.” He chided her and Killian laughed.

“You sure you don’t mind going back to the ship?” She asked Killian.

“Absolutely, it’s important that all the passengers are taken care of.” Emma looked at him quizzically but continued walking toward the pier.

~*~

Killian knew he should have just told her he was the damn Captain when they first met. He tried to tell her at the beach and then her friend got hurt and as Captain it was important that he took the man back to the ship, his passengers health always came first over innocent flirting with one of the women on his ship.

Once they made it to the infirmary, he spotted Tink at the back of the bay. He waved her over and she jumped into action.

“Jones, have you started combing the ship for injured passengers now?”

He laughed nervously, avoiding eye contact with Emma. “I believe we have a twisted ankle.” He helped get the man up on the bed.

“Name?” Tink questioned as she pulled up her iPad to search the passenger list.

“August Booth.”

Killian backed up against the wall and watched as she examined his ankle. He observed Emma asking questions, checking to ensure that he was going to be ok and he slowly backed out of the room. He’d tell Emma later about being the Captain, right now she had more important things to tend to.

~*~

“So, it looks like it’s just sprained.” She ran her hand over his ankle again and Emma couldn’t help but notice the way August watched the nurse in awe.

“Well, does that mean I have to spend all my time down here in the infirmary now?” He joked innocently.

Tink laughed, “Well only if you want to.” She teased and Emma suddenly felt like she was invading a private moment.

That’s when Emma noticed that Killian was no longer in the room. “Oh, did you see where the guy who helped us went?”

Tink looked up and laughed. “Jones? Pretty sure he probably went back to the bridge.”

“The bridge? What bridge would that be?”

“Of the boat, did you hit your head or something. That’s where the Captain usually is when we are getting close to leaving port.”

“Captain?”

“You are talking about Captain Jones, right? The guy you came in with?” She pointed haphazardly toward the wall of photos behind her before turning back to August to wrap his ankle.

Emma walked up to the wall and immediately recognized the blue eyes in the largest photo in the center. Her heart was racing as she read the inscription under the portrait.

Captain Killian Jones

Holy Shit!

~*~

“Ok spill.” Emma turned to look at Ruby who was staring at her from across the room as they got ready for dinner.

“Spill what?”

“Who is he?”

“Who is who?” Emma turned back toward the mirror; confusion littered across her face.

“The hot drink of water you found on the beach; you know who I’m talking about.” Ruby glared at her with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“What, the guy who helped August? Good Samaritan, I guess.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

“Bullshit, I was watching you before all that happened, you went directly to him on the beach.”

“What, are you spying on me now?” She accused.

“Out with it.”

Emma sighed. “He’s just some guy I keep running into. That’s all.” Emma put on her shawl and headed to the door, effectively ending the conversation.

“Ok keep your secrets.” She said with her eyes narrowed, joining her in the hall as they headed to the dining hall.

Their dinner passed by quickly, the saying was true that time would fly when you were having fun, as Emma was starting to enjoy sitting down to eat with her friends every evening. Even the newcomers were starting to fit in with everyone. Will and Belle had warmed up to each other. They were sitting quietly at the end of the table, Will trying to demonstrate how to flip a bottle without dropping it. Belle would giggle and follow his every move and he would reward her with a new blush to his cheeks.

Her brother and Mary Margaret had become inseparable, however the small kiss he gave her after dinner was a new development. August left dinner early stating that he needed to head back to the infirmary for a checkup on his ankle, though Emma was sure the visit was more to do with the cute blonde nurse than his ankle.

After dinner, the remaining group decided to relocate to the piano bar on the deck above them for a night cap. The music was enjoyable, and the bar wasn’t crowed which allowed them to spread out into different areas of the room.

“I think he likes you.” Emma set her drink down and looked over at her brother who was sitting beside her.

“Who?” David looked toward the bar and she spotted Graham looking in her direction. “Oh, he’s nice. I guess.”

“You guess? Emma, he’s a really nice guy. Did you know he’s a Sheriff in the town that Mary Margaret and Belle are from?”

“Small world.” She said softly, taking a sip of her drink and peering around the bar.

“Waiting for something better?” He questioned.

“Why would I be waiting for anything? I already told all of you that I’m not interested in finding anything here.”

“Emma, it’s been 7 years since Neal ran off, don’t you think it’s time you stop punishing yourself and think about what might be out there for you and Henry?”

“Punishing myself?” Her annoyance was rising.

“That’s not what I meant. Not really, I mean, not exactly. I just feel like you punish yourself for Neal leaving. It wasn’t your fault. You deserve to be happy, sis.”

“I love you Dave, I do. And I’m really happy that you seem to have found something on this ship that you are interested in, but please, let me handle my own happiness.”

“Alright, I’ll back off.” He said with a grin.

He went back to his date and Ruby slid up beside her. “Is he trying to get you to sleep with Graham, because if he is, do you want company?”

“Ruby!” She exclaimed, “how much have you had to drink?”

“Enough that I would take him right there on the bar.”

“Dare.” Emma smirked at her, knowing that Ruby never backed down from a dare.

Ruby’s mouth went from wide open to a firm line of determination, getting up from her seat and sauntering over to the bar. Emma looked around at all her friends, each of them distracted with other people and she took the moment to sneak out without notice.

She found herself wandering the lido deck in the dark, her drink from the bar still in her hand as she sipped it through the straw with the tiny umbrella attached. She told herself she wasn’t looking for him but that didn’t stop the disappointment she felt when she didn’t find him either.

~*~

“Everything is under control, Captain. You don’t have to stay up here if you would like to rest.”

“Thank you, Smee. I guess I just wasn’t ready to head to my quarters.” He stared out at the deck of the ship below him, there was a small group of passengers wandering her planks. A wave of blonde hair caught his attention, her hips swaying back and forth in the night breeze. “On second thought, I think I’m going to retire for the evening.”

Perhaps now was as good a time as any to confess to her who he was. He bounded down the stairs and shoved open the doors to the Lido deck. He headed in the direction she was last seen, but the deck was empty. Disappointed, he realized she may have already gone back inside.

“Captain Jones.”

He spun around to see her standing against the wall of the ship. “Ah, I guess I’m busted.” He said with a sigh. “Let me guess, Lady Bell clued you in? I swear to you I was going to tell you on the beach today.” He said honestly. “But then…”

“Then August’s old man body turned to wood and he required medical assistance.” She joked.

“Yes, that. Forgive me for being less than honest?”

“Only if you tell me why you didn’t just tell me the first day.”

“That’s fair. My friend Robin pretty much convinced me to take this job, I was less than thrilled about the theme of this cruise, and well, I was just happy to talk to someone else who seemed to be forced to be here as well.”

She shook her head in understanding. “So, you’re really the Captain huh?” She walked closer to him, her fingers trailing the sleeve of his shirt as she traced the stripes on his arm.

“Aye.”

“I should have known when you rattled off all those facts about the ship. No one else would have paid that much attention.”

“Actually, you all should pay attention to that information.” His tone serious.

“Yes, Captain.” She smirked with a mock salute and he swallowed hard.

“I won’t put up with any sass on my watch.” He teased as they fell into step walking along the deck.

“So, how’d you become a Captain?”

“My brother convinced me to join the Navy when we were just lads, the sea became my mistress as soon as I met her. I was captivated by her tempestuous nature. On the surface she could be rough and demanding, but beneath the surface she’s calm and inviting.”

“So your brother is a Captain too?”

“He was, yes.” He paused, leaning on the rail for support. “He not with us anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“He was the best Captain to ever sail the seas. He’s out there somewhere.” He pointed to the horizon. “He’s a better man than I’ll ever be.”

“Well considering you are the Captain of the ship I currently find myself on, I hope you’re the best Captain we can ask for.”

“I wouldn’t even have had the chance to Captain such a vessel if not for my brother.” He looked over at her unsure of why he was suddenly freely sharing information he would rarely share with another.

“Did he teach you?”

“He taught me everything I know. How to be a good Captain, a good sailor, and a good man.”

“When did he pass?”

“Two years ago. We were at sea, on a mission, there was a fire, I was in the engine room when it exploded. We were taking on water and I needed to seal off the leak. I sent everyone out, I expected it to be the last good deed I ever did. But he found me, dragged me out of the pits of that ship and got me on the rescue boat.”

“Wow.” Emma was staring at him in a shocked silence.

“He went back in for the rest of his crew.”

“Because you don’t leave a man behind.” She said seemingly with a sudden understanding of their earlier conversation.

“Aye.” He nodded but didn’t continue.

“That must have been really tough.”

“One of the worst nights of my life.”

“Looks like you made the most of it though. Look at you now.” She smiled softly.

“Perhaps.”

“Wow, you’re worse than me with the martyr stuff.” She laughed and he wanted to crawl into the void where her laughter filled the air and stay there forever. “I think you should try being a little easier on yourself and trust me, coming from me, that says a lot.”

“I’ll take that under consideration.” He smiled and she glanced around.

“I should get back before my friends send out a search party.”

“We can’t have that on my ship.” He smirked.

“I’ll see you around, Captain.” She said as she walked back toward the door, turning back to offer him a shy smile before she disappeared into the belly of his ship.

Perhaps this cruise wasn’t the worst idea Robin ever had after all.

[l8rhader]

It was Tuesday which meant it was Losers Family Game Night.  Except, as far as most of the Losers knew, Eddie Kaspbrak had a study group that he just couldn’t get out of.

In truth, he had needed a minute.  And a drink.  And a quiet walk around the city.  All that had done for him was solidified his realization.  He needed to get his shit together.  For over a decade, he’d pined.  He’d watched as Richie went on a never-ending string of increasingly frustrating bad dates.  He listened as he bitched about each of them after they’d all, inexplicably, failed to realize how wonderful he was.  At 22, in his senior year of college and living with his six best friends in a rented house just off campus, he was really, truly living, and- He’d had enough waiting.  He wanted Richie.  

He headed back to the house and snuck in the backdoor, heading up the kitchen stairs to sit, cross-legged on Richie’s bed, and just waited, picking at a tiny hole at the bottom hem of his faded old T-Shirt with the demon car.  He didn’t want to deal with Game Night or anyone else until he saw Richie.  

Downstairs, the rest of the Losers Club were chatting happily and setting up the board for a friendly and Not-At-All-Competitive-Beverly-Remember-What-Happened-Last-Time game of Monopoly.  Richie stood up from the ottoman and moved for the stairs.  “Hang on, guys, don’t start without me.  I just want to change into sweats,” he said, adding “Stan, pull the-”

“Shoe,” he predicted, plucking it out of the box from under Beverly’s fingers as she huffed, reaching from the couch behind him, nearly knocking the wind out of Ben with an accidental kick to the gut, securing the Top Hat for herself before Stan could swipe it.  His call doubled as an encouragement to getting him out and back.  “Got it,” Richie shot him a thumbs-up behind his back.  “Hurry, it’s already 6,” he called, knowing that, at this rate, they were going to be up until way later than he’d like.  He had work in the morning, even if no one else had class until noon.

Richie was already upstairs and opening the door to his room, though.  He already had the top of his jeans unbuttoned, heading to his dresser for something more comfortable.  He let them drop, stepping out of them in just his boxers.  

Momentarily stunned by the situation he found himself in, Eddie found his voice quick enough.  “Hey Richie,” he said quietly.  “Can we talk?”

Jumping backward and knocking his dresser drawer shut on his finger, though managing to come up with the pants he’d come in search of, Richie yelped.  “Ow! Fuck,” he hissed, popping the injured digit into his mouth instinctively.  “Eds, what-”  He stopped, looked down at himself, and immediately felt his face flush hot.  “What’s up?” he asked, covering himself up with the hastily retrieved garment before realizing he could indeed put them on.

“I need to say something to you and I need to say it all before you interrupt me so can you be uncharacteristically quiet for like 5 minutes before you say anything that’s going to make me potentially jump out of your bedroom window in embarrassment,” Eddie said, taking a sharp intake of breath before adding a quiet, “please?”

Brows furrowed behind his glasses, Richie moved to his bed and sat beside Eddie.  “Of course,” he said, fighting off the instinct to point out that anything that was going to take Eddie five minutes to say would take 30 from anyone else- maybe 15 from him, but what’s 10 minutes between friends, right?  “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he said quietly, picking at his cuticle before dropping his hands into his lap.  He looked over at Richie, who was looking at him so softly that he could hardly stand it and stood up.  “Can you not look at me while I say any of this?  I can’t deal with your face and those big fucking eyes staring at me while I try to put my thoughts together because if I do, Richie, I swear I’m never going to get through this,” he said as he started to pace.  

Richie stared up at him incredulously for a moment, wondering just what in the hell he’d gotten himself into, before shaking it off.  “Sure.  Whatever you need,” he said, plucking the plush beaver Eddie had won him at the carnival one year.  At the time, he may have buried it under a dirty joke or ten, - and by may have, he absolutely did, but it made Eddie laugh that big, open laugh that always twisted a knot in Richie’s gut he couldn’t place at the time but he definitely had figured out by now, so it wasn’t for nothing- but it was, and remained to the day, one of his most prized possessions.

It appeared, though, that Eddie didn’t need Richie’s agreement for any of this.  “I mean, how couple I possibly focus when you’re there and you look like that and you’re my best fucking friend and you just get whatever it is that I’m trying to say without me having to try which is impressive considering that I try really fucking hard all the time and you’re always there!  And you always play along!  And you’re-” he looked back at Richie and clenched and unclenched his fists quickly.  “I just don’t get it and of course you’re going to say no because, I mean, you’re you and why would you even want to so it doesn’t-”

“Eds, I don’t mean to interrupt this conversation you’re having with yourself when you did ask for five minutes but,” he said, standing up and placing the stuffed animal back on his bed with a lightly confused expression, “you haven’t actually said-”

“AND THEN, here you are, six-fucking-two and cheekbones and shoulders and hands and-” he spluttered, struggling, “and-and-and I can’t even focus on anything at all because you’re this fucking hot AND you’re quite possibly the funniest person I’ve ever met, despite all of the fighting and calling me names that are absolutely mortifying but I don’t hate as much as I say I do because I know that it’s endearment from you,” he said, taking the hand that he hadn’t even noticed Richie had reached out to him.  He rolled it thoughtfully in his own hand and smiled.  “But, then, you have to be such a fucking idiot, like there’s not a brain under that perfect mop of curls you call hair, and go on all of these stupid dates with these stupid assholes who don’t see how sweet and smart and brave and funny and gorgeous you are and I have to wonder why the fuck it’s always them and not me when I’m right fucking here.  And every time one of these shitbrained lowlifes breaks your heart, I end up here in this exact spot, surrounded by your dirty laundry, wondering what in the hell happened to make you ignore what was right in front of your face the whole damn time; trying to figure out why it’s them and not me because I swear if I had you, I’d never let you go.”  Eddie took another breath that might have been a little huffier than he’d intended, but he was mad.  He was madly in love with Richie.  So sue him if he thought that it was stupid that, after over ten years, he was going to have to admit it before he, maybe literally, exploded.

Even though he was hearing every word and, practiced as he was in the art of Eddie-fication, Richie was having trouble following.  “I need something a little more linear here, Eds.  Give me something to go on.”

Give him something to go on, he did.  Eddie launched himself onto his tiptoes, arms draped over Richie’s shoulders as he kissed him.  If Richie had had any warning at all, he might have been quicker on the uptake.  He settled into the kiss quick enough, pulling Eddie up into his arms eagerly.  It still wasn’t close enough for Eddie.  He wound one hand into Richie’s hair, adjusting his neck for a better angle.

“God, why are you so fucking tall?” he panted when he finally came up for air.  “One of us is gonna end up needing a chiropractor if we keep this up,” he added.

Letting his hands wander lower, he gripped the back of Eddie’s thighs and hoisted him up so they were a little closer to even and kissed him again.  “Better?” he asked, despite feeling pretty confident that it was.  

Richie smiled at him.  That was sort of what he thought.  “You drive me insane, too,” he said, moving his strong hands to Eddie’s biceps and pulling him in closer.  “And I love you, too.”  

Eddie looked up at him, quietly stunned.  He thought back over everything he’d said but he was pretty sure that he’d left that bit out.  “You-”

“That was the general takeaway of your rant, right?  Because, honestly, Eds, it was a little all over the place but there was a good bit of mentioning different physical attributes, some jealousy and frustration with my past dating experiences, some mentioning of things other than my body, but,” he drew his lips into a straight line and shrugged, “to be fair, I’m sure you had a speech but I came in here and dropped trough and shot that all to shit,” he laughed, getting a slight blush from Eddie, “followed by a good deal of insulting which is Spaghetti-Speak for I love you.”  

Richie leaned forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Eddie’s waist.  “Is it?” Eddie asked, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t had much of a plan past this part.  

Nodding, Richie leaned back a little.  “I’ve wanted to be your boyfriend for a long time,” he admitted.  Beneath his hands, he could practically feel Eddie vibrating with excitement.  “That is, if you want me, too?”

A bright smile crept along Eddie’s face, initiating those dimples Richie liked so much he could fucking scream.  “Of course, I want you,” he said, letting his hands rest wrapped tightly in the buttons of his shirt.  “I want you more than anything else I can think of.”  

“Good.  Because you’re stuck with me, my man,” he said, swaying them both back and forth happily, a slow dance.  Then, realizing what he’d said and the implications of it, he simply smiled.  “My man.”  Eddie leaned up on his tiptoes and kissed him once more, pulling him in by his shirt before hooking his arms around his neck.  From the living room, there was a chorus of shouts for Richie to hurry the fuck up.  “Are you gonna come down with us?  Because I don’t want to stop this, but-”

Eddie released a heavy sigh.  “Go,” he groaned, shoving him out the door and toward the steps.  It was stupid, he realized, waiting this long.  Grinning broadly as he watched Richie pad down the stepsHe ducked toward the front door and opened it, pulling Richie toward him as he closed it, giving them the option of making it seem like Eddie had just gotten home.  Still, his hand in Richie’s felt right.  The way Richie had instinctively moved his hand to Eddie’s hip might have made his heart skip a beat as he hovered closer, obscured from the Losers by the wall with their coat rack on it.  

Leaning in, Richie captured Eddie’s lips with his own, pressing himself flush against him.  It was exhilarating.  He had never in a million years thought that it would happen like this, if it happened at all.  He thought there would be some long, pitiful conversation.  Some dramatic scene.  He’d expected tears and panic- maybe even some puke, on his end.  

But this?

Kissing Eddie was easy.  Having Eddie as a boyfriend- being Eddie’s boyfriend- that was going to be even easier.  Effortless.  Inevitable.  He could feel it.  He could tell.  

Still, he had to stop.  He had to pull back for a moment before he lost his head entirely and they got caught.  “Do you really want to do this?” he asked, thumb grazing lightly over Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie leaned into his hand and looked up at him, a hint of mischief in those deep, brown eyes.  He entwined his freehand in Richie’s hair, kissing him with an even more determined fire than he had the first time.  Richie hummed in surprise against his mouth, then melted against him dramatically, like the snowman turning into the little boy in that soup commercial.  He tilted Eddie’s face up and and leaned into him, feeling their hearts running a race.  For once, Richie thought, just a part of him might be faster than Eddie.  

When he finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, Eddie nodded.  “I really, really do.”  

“See you in there, then,” he said, kissing him lightly one last time for the moment, smiling briefly against his lips.

Hearing Stan call out to him again, Richie turned and practically bounced back into the living room Eyes wide, Eddie whispered a harsh, “Wait.  I didn’t mean to tell them.  I just meant yes to you!” Richie settled in against the pile of throw pillows on the far side of the room, and busied himself collecting his money from Stan and bitching at Mike for stealing his seat.  “Richie? Richie!” Eddie continued to hiss, digging his fists into his hair.  “Fuck.”

He peeked around the corner and took in the set-up.  Bev and Ben were still on the couch but she was sitting up, poised for battle.  Stan was on the floor with his back against the couch, knees against the coffee table, bank assembled in the lid and safely under the table where Beverly couldn’t reach without alerting him.  Bill’s chair was still vacant, because he was still in the kitchen making drinks.  Mike sat cross legged on the ottoman with Richie nested in the pillows beside him.  His heart skipped another beat- it really needed to stop doing that- as he realized that that caught-the-canary look Richie had was because of him.  He looked so happy.  And fuck- he was, too.

“Was that the food?” Mike asked.  

“No,” Richie answered, then paused.  “Well, I mean.  It’s something I plan on eating later,” he added quickly, raising his eyebrows as Eddie ducked out of sight.  He laughed a little, knowing he was gonna hear it for that later.  

From the entryway, there was the sound of a definite thunk of head against wall.  “What was that?” asked, moving to get up, spooked.

“Probably the pasta coming to a boil,” Richie offered, situating his loudly colored money beside him.  Beverly looked at him curiously.

Still missing the point, “What?  What pasta?” Mike asked, looking over at the rest of the group as Bill came in from the kitchen with their drinks.  “Didn’t we order pizza?  I don’t-”

Once he’d freed his hands, handing Richie and Mike their beers, popping the open wine bottle down in front of Ben and Bev passing Stan his 7 and 7, Bill asked, “Richie, did you hit your head?  How many f-fingers?” offering two individual fingers for him to focus on as he plopped down into his chair, taking a swig of his own beer.

“Three if I play my cards right,” Richie winked.  Off to his left, Stan squinted at him.  Not that it was any different from his normal schtick, per se, but there was something different about Richie.  Bev picked up on it, too, swatting Stan on the shoulder and fixing him with a deliberate stare.

“Oh my God!” Eddie groaned, spinning in a circle.  He buried his face in his hands.  That wasn’t what he meant.  He hadn’t-

“Eddie?” Ben asked, craning his neck to get a better angle to try to see into the entryway.  “I thought he had that study group he couldn’t get out of tonight.” 

Perking up, Bev leaned across the arm of the sofa, shouting, “Eds!  If that’s you, get your ass in here!” 

Eddie let one deep breath fill his lungs as he dropped his head back, closing his eyes.  He was going to have to kill his boyfriend.  Even with attack mode activated, he still smiled at the thought.  The word boyfriend meant Richie which made him go warm all over.  He shook it off and peeked back around the corner.  “Hey, guys,” he said, sheepishly.

Bill turned around, more than a little shocked to find the seventh Loser home.  “What g-gives?”

“You said you wouldn’t be home until super late tonight?” Bev asked, gesturing for him to come sit with her and Ben.

There was a chorus of agreement as he fully entered the room, arms folded protectively around his waist. He looked down at the floor, trying to avoid eye contact that would clearly give him away, until “Yeah, Spaghetti.  What gives?” Richie said with a crooked smile, cocking his head to one side as he leaned back on his elbows.

“Fuck you, dude.  I take it all back.  Every fucking word,” Eddie growled, crossing to Richie and swiping one of the pillows out from under him to smack him in the gut with it.  “You’re such a dipshit, you know that right?  I meant yes to you not yes to whatever the fuck you took me saying yes to mean.”  Richie opened his mouth, meaning to point out that the rest of the Losers were still in the room.  Instead, all he could do was gape at his boyfriend.  “Oh, fucking forgive me if I wanted to take a minute to enjoy the fact that I finally got over my shit, marched back here, and made a fucking move!  Maybe I wanted to keep it between us for, oh, I don’t know ten minutes before you broadcast to all of our friends that I just asked you out.”

Richie blinked a couple of times, stunned.  He held his hand up, preparing to count off on his fingers.  “So, to recap, you came home completely unannounced-”

“I live here, asshole!  Do I have to tell you all-”

Flexing his outstretched hand, Richie added his index finger to the list, “Started fucking yelling at me about my face, my dating habits, my laundry habits, and my mouth,” added a third, smiling as he glanced past Eddie at the shocked faces of their friends, “kissed me, started yelling at me again for being too fucking tall but if I’m not mistaken,” he said, letting his hand spring back to his chest with a loud thud, “I am the one who made the startling confession and did the boyfriend asking and then returned to the game night that you were invited to in the house that we share with our friends without so much as a fucking word past reiterating that you really did want to be with me,” he listed, counting them off on the three fingers he’d joked about just moments earlier.  He reached up, and took Eddie’s hand.  “You, light of my life and pain in my ass, are the one who came in here guns blazing and broadcasting it for all of these Losers.  I was simply being casual!”

Eddie squeaked out a laugh.  “As if!  You came in with all of the jokes and the fucking commentary!  What the hell did you think they were going to think”  Something I plan to eat later?  What the fuck, Richie?  I swear-”

“Because you’re so cute, cute, cute, I could just eat you up, Spaghetti,” Richie said, tugging at his boyfriend’s hand, chewing at his lower lip.

Stan sighed, pulling the box out from under the table and starting to count out Eddie’s starting pile.  “He’s always talked about you like that,” he said flatly.

“Yeah, as s-soon as you came in we would have just let it g-go as him being a dickhead,” Bill laughed, reaching into his pocket for his wallet and pulling out a fifty, taking the one Mike was flagging toward the table and tossing them both at Ben.  Bev and Stan both dug through their Monopoly money and tried to pawn that off as fair, receiving nothing but a disapproving tut from Ben, now $200 richer- in real currency, even.

Settling back into his spot, Stan glanced over at his friends, thoroughly happy for them.  “So, if you two are done, we were just starting on Monopoly and I had the car set aside just in case,” he offered, sticking the pawn on the stack of brightly colored bills and handing them up to Eddie who just stared blankly at him.  “I open tomorrow.  In or out?”

Richie swiped the pieces and laughed.  “C’mere,” he said said, a little roughly, tugging Eddie down to sit between his legs.  Snuggling back against his boyfriend, he smiled, rocking back and forth a bit. 

All it took was one subtle moment- Richie pressed his lips to Eddie’s neck gently, whispering in his ear and Eddie shut his eyes smiling happily. Mike cooed some nonsense about it being ‘about damn time,” and Eddie blushed, admitting that, yeah, it was.  That’s all it took for Stan to lock eyes with Eddie, claiming that now he was vulnerable.  The peace was broken with unrelenting trash talk as Eddie took first roll.

“Is it a g-good idea to play Monopoly, of all things, the day they actually g-get together?” Bill asked Ben quietly as he walked back to the kitchen to grab the second round.  As oldest, he always went last for every game, making him the barmaid, most nights.

“It’s not like they’ve never played together before,” Ben answered, watching the new couple with a gentle smile as his own girlfriend batted his hand away for distracting her.  “Besides, Richie’s pretty calm with Monopoly.”

“It’s not Richie I’m worried about,” Bill said as Richie cursed.  Eddie had given an evil laugh, teasing that Ben had always been on his side and, in throwing his head back, nearly concussed him.  “Although, maybe I should be,” he laughed, shaking his head, passively wondering if, maybe, he could see the future or something because hadn’t he just asked-