#and shes dealing with it by clinging extra hard to the kid she's got left

[anime-grimmy-art]

Day 4 – Buddies

Zet – Cry is Zet’s trusty partner since forever and oh boy has this poor cat been through a lot. Cry is a bit of a stickler for the rules and tries to keep situations under control, which is hard when his huntress keeps running headfirst into danger and (accidentally) insulting authority. Still, despite all the migraines he’d gladly lay his life down for his huntress. Way later, on a long journey from the mainland back to the New World, Zet stumbles onto Kamura and meets the veteran Palamute Rev. He’s a jaded old dog whose hunter had died long ago and despite all his skills had refused to be taken in by anyone. Somehow, he and Zet resonated, and despite his better judgment, Rev joined Zet and Cry for their adventure.

Mei – I’d say her buddy is Navirou, I guess? While they do butt heads sometimes, cos Navirou is very overdramatic and Mei just wants to avoid conflict, she really grew close to the weird Felyne. He can be kind of narcissistic, but Mei knows he cares a lot about her and even through danger, he never left her side. He’s also one of the only few individuals that didn’t have expectations of her since Navirou didn’t know her grandfather, so Mei found she’d often cling to Navirou’s point of view.

Chidori – Nyaba and Shibe have been with her since she was a kid, but she hadn’t seen the two for years when she was training at the Guild. But ever since she’s returned to Kamura, the two haven’t left her side. Nyaba is a very calculating Felyne and often gets called a Melynx cos she likes being a trickster. Best support you could ask for though. Shibe is a very chill Palamute since he is a very different breed from most of the dogs Iori takes care of. Not to say he’s useless in a fight. He isn’t the fastest Palamute, but he has insane endurance, like his master, and knows how to hit hard.

Day 5 – Monsters

Zet – Zet doesn’t really have a favourite monster, but she does prefer those that go “head first, thoughts later” as these monsters are very predictable and comparably easy to deal with. As for association, Zet would love to not have a link to this monster, but she sadly has strong ties to Fatalis. She had to face this monster before and almost lost her life in the fight, it was a miracle she managed to survive. After her recovery she had been sent to the New World as the Guild found her too useless (and too dangerous) to keep around, but in the end, she was forced to face the beast once again, but this time hopefully for good. I’d be amiss not to mention Xeno’jiva though, cos, ya know, Sapphire Star and all. I do personally link it and Zet together, even more so if we go with the route that Safi’jiva is the same dragon. I do love a good rivalry between hunter and monster. Also, also, if Zet had a monster-sona, it would be Velkhana.

Mei – Oh, Mei has a fondness for all monsters, really. She loves all her monsties equally, but some of her children just need/want more attention so these are kinda extra special. Of course, you have her lil baby boy Ratha, the monster fate tied to her, and Mei would not give him away for anything. Then she got her problem child Asparagus, a young and overactive Astalos. He’s like a bug dragon puppy that’s just teething, so he gnaws on everything and anyone, but Mei just finds it so adorable she would let him chew on her arm forever. Last but not least are her calm, broody ones, Apple the Anjanath and Legume the Legiana. These two are rather mild mannered but both very cuddly and affectionate. Since they’re the level-headed ones, they, along with Ratha, usually keep the rowdy bunch in check.

Chidori – As Mei is sunshine incarnate, so is Chidori Gargwa incarnate. I took a lot of inspiration from Gargwas when designing her, and her nervous and flighty demeanour also really reminded me of them. As for favourite, she likes the more chill and non-threatening monsters, at least the ones that don’t look threatening. Monsters like Tetranadon, Pukei-Pukei and strangely even Espinas (when it is asleep).

[asterkiss]

I initially wrote this for one of the prompts in my inbox before realising there was an additional request which makes this one wrong lol. So have an extra thing written by accident with Wendy and Bill hanging out together (sort of) where Wendy is the voice of reason (mostly).

-HOBBIES

'Why are you hiding behind the counter?’

‘I’m not hiding.’

Wendy stared at the former-demon-turned-kinda-good seated behind the shop till with a wild look in his eye. Then again, he usually had a wild look of some sort. She’d had enough dealings with him by now to know this kind of expression was a different one than usual but that was it.

‘...Uh huh,’ she replied flatly. ‘Well scoot, you’re in my spot. Unless you plan on taking this shift?’ Hm, might be funny to watch him trying to work in the Shack shop. Sure, it would lose them business and get Stan riled up but it’d be hilarious.

He made a face but eventually obliged. In the beginning he’d tried messing with her like he did with everyone, but when she refused to bite any bait he offered the guy eventually got bored and left her alone most of the time. If only Dipper could learn to do the same.

Peering around the cashier desk, he looked across the room with wariness before eventually standing and shifting aside. Wendy moved forward and sat down on the chair, pulling out her magazine and some bubble gum to pass the time.

Bill remained standing there, eyes focused on the door leading into the living room of the Shack.

Turning a page, she spoke. ‘She went out.’

‘Huh?’

‘Mabel,’ she clarified, without missing a beat. ‘She headed into town ten minutes ago to meet her pals.’

There was silence for a moment, before he responded. ‘So what? I don’t care.’

A shrug. ‘I didn’t say you did, dude.’

He grunted, but didn’t leave. Jeez. She didn’t want to engage with him but the redhead felt he wasn’t gonna leave until she did. It was hard to relax when there was a sulking nuisance next to you tapping his foot. He reminded her of her brothers when they were throwing a tantrum.

‘Mabel’s mad at you, huh?’ she asked dryly, finally letting her gaze shift towards him.

His head snapped around at that, body tensing. After a moment his face twisted. ‘She’s annoying, is what she is,’ he spat. ‘Don’t be fooled by the stickers and smiles, beneath it lays a brat!’ He threw his arms in the air in exaggeration, looking annoyed.

‘So, you did something, huh?’

‘Of course not!’

Wendy continued to stare at him as she began to blow a bubble. They kept eye contact as the pink, gooey orb grew larger and larger between them.

Eventually, it popped.

And so did he.

‘Okay, fine!’ he spat. ‘I might have called her friends some unpleasant names and called her selfish and stupid, but that’s it! She’s the one who kicked me in the leg and dumped pasta on my head!’ Huh, so that’s what she could see remnants of in his hair. Funny.

The older girl snorted. ‘Dude, I know Mabel isn’t your normal everyday girl but even with her you gotta have more tact than that. Quit being a raging jealous asshole already and give her some space.’

He glared at her. It had no effect.

She leaned closer, jabbing a finger in his direction. ‘You need to stop clinging to her so much. Mabel doesn’t have to hang out with only you, y’know? She has other friends and things going on in her life.’

His face soured, lips pressing tightly into a grimace.

‘I get it, you think she’s gonna stop chilling with you to go hang out with other people instead — I know I would. But, Mabel’s built different and seems to like you for some weird reason so just trust her, alright? If you keep suffocating her she’s gonna get mad for real and then she will end up leaving your ass.’

She raised an eyebrow pointedly as she finished her lecture. Wow, it really did feel like she was scolding one of her kid brothers here. Bill even had the same sulky face as he averted his gaze, looking as if he’d tasted something unpleasant.

Satisfied she’d done her part, the redhead returned to her magazine, trying to read the latest tips of hot flannel fashion. She can’t have read more than a paragraph of the article however when he spoke up.

‘So, what am I supposed to do instead?’

She raised her head, to find him staring at her expectantly. ‘What?’

‘If I’m meant to leave Shooting Star alone, what else is there to do in this stupid hick town?’ A pause and he looked away in consideration. ‘I suppose I could prank Pine Tree, although everyone mad when I took it too far last time. How was I supposed to know bleach was lethal for humans in those doses?’ The smirk he was failing to hide said he did know. Asshole.

‘Do you seriously not know what to do when Mabel’s away? What do you normally do when she’s out of the house?’

A shrug. ‘Wait for her to come back.’

‘That’s sad and cringey. Go find a hobby.’

‘My hobbies are rather vindictive in nature and involve screaming.’

Wendy stared at him for several seconds. 'Seriously, how does she deal with you? I don’t get it.’

Then again, Wendy had seen them interact and it was obvious he acted slightly different around her. More mellowed out. Still annoying though.

In that moment, her phone buzzed off. Yanking it out of her jeans, Wendy found the group chat going off.

NATE: principal ratted me out to parents over my prank and in the shits with them now :/ NATE: cant hang this weekend LEE: bro wtf TAMBRY: classic LEE: god i hate that dude LEE: we should just steal his car at night and wreck it!! TAMBRY: right. that’s totally gonna end well for you...

Wendy rolled her eyes at their antics. As if. Who’d be gutsy enough to actually steal the principal’s car?

....

Wait a second.

Wendy turned in her seat, cast Bill a glance as she regarded him in a new light. ‘Hey, if you want to give Mabel some space, how bout you come hang out with my group tonight?’

He immediately made a face. ‘I would rather be covered in shit and eaten alive by cockroaches.'

‘You get to steal a car and drive it into a lake.’

The demon paused at that. He regarded her with scrutiny for a moment, trying to figure out if she was messing with him. Then, eventually:

‘For real?’

‘Super real.’

His face stretched into a slow grin. ‘Count me in, Red.’

And that's how Wendy and Bill ended up hanging out for the first time.

Also, how they ended up being arrested.

[magniloquent-raven]

Ooh for your prompts: Fluffy Elmax sleepover with cuddling for #16 pls :') xoxox

i had such a good time writing this omg thank you!!! tho there’s a couple bits that threaten to be angst because im physically incapable of writing pure fluff lmao. it’s just tiny bits tho. just a smidge.

also, because s4 isn’t out yet i uh. kinda just did a time skip but didn’t rly change anything about how s3 left off? i know we know hopper’s alive but like. i guess he’s just still in russia in this fic LMAO rip. don’t think about it too hard

posted on ao3 as well :)

—-

Max’s watch timer beeps obnoxiously again. 8:36. El’s late. She hits snooze.

“When’s your friend supposed to be here, sweetie?”

“Soon, mom. You know, you and Neil don’t have to wait up.” They do this every time. Like Max isn’t almost seventeen and perfectly capable of being alone in her own damn house for five minutes. At this rate they’re going to be late for whatever thing it is they’re going to, and Neil will be even more of a bitch than usual.

Her mom glances over at him. He’s sitting in his armchair looking surly, checking his watch pointedly. Asshole.

“Well…I don’t think—”

Max hears a car pull up out front. “Oh, thank fuck,” she mutters, turning on her heel and marching out to greet the Byers’.

Joyce climbs out of the passenger seat as Max strides across the lawn. “Max, honey!” she waves, grinning bright, “How are you?” There’s always a…tone to how she asks that. Questions lurking under the surface that they don’t talk about. It makes Max’s insides all squirmy thinking about it, though she is on some level grateful for the concern.

Max stands on the curb, tugging on her earring. A habit by now. It’s both a comfort and a reminder. She got one hell of a lecture the day she came out of the bathroom with blood running down her neck and a safety pin in her earlobe, but she didn’t regret it for a second.

El slides out of the driver’s seat, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. Max watches her stand and adjust her shirt. She always looked good in yellow. “I’m good,” Max responds after a beat, and it’s honest for once.

The door behind her creaks. Probably her mom and Neil coming out of the house, hopefully to leave, finally. She doesn’t turn around, just steps into Joyce’s waiting arms and presses her face into her shoulder. Max is taller than her now, by a couple inches, so it hurts her neck a little, but it’s worth it.

Will’s still tucked away in the backseat, peering through the window, Max waves at him when she peeks up over Joyce’s shoulder.

Then El distracts her. “Your hair,” she says, gently tugging on a lock behind her ear. Max steps back from Joyce, and runs a hand through it, cheeks pink. Three years ago she’d hacked off all her hair with a pocket-knife, woke up the morning of Billy’s funeral with strands still stuck to her neck, locks hanging ragged across her forehead. Her mother had thrown a fit.

“Yeah, I cut it again,” Max says, like that wasn’t obvious. She’d let it grow out uneven and messy for a while, but she broke out the scissors again about a month ago. It’s neater than her last haircut, but not by much.

El’s hand is in Max’s hair again, dangerously close to her face. Max’s knees wobble a little.

“Bitchin’,” she says solemnly, after a few seconds of consideration.  

Max’s grin is blinding.

Her mother cuts in, before she can respond, gives her the usual talk about staying in the house and making sure she’s got her emergency numbers memorized. Then she bids them all a hasty, distracted goodbye. Her mom was never very comfortable about the Byers’. Probably something about Joyce’s too-knowing gaze, or the fact that El glares daggers at Neil every time he’s within range.

She’s doing it now. Watching him get into his truck with a quiet rage in her eyes. Joyce puts a hand on her elbow, and it doesn’t move until Neil’s truck has turned the corner at the end of the street.

“We should get going,” Joyce says, checking her watch. “Will wanted to be at Claudia’s an hour ago but we got caught up at Mike’s house, and, well, you know how it is,” she flutters her hands, approximating a shrug.

She hugs El goodbye, then pulls Max in for another one. “Call us if you need anything,” she says, pulling back and putting her hands on Max’s shoulders. That sad glint is in her eye again, and Max knows the offer extends beyond tonight.

“Thanks, Joyce, we will.”

By the time she’s taken the corner at the end of Cherry Lane Max’s watch is beeping again.

El glances down at it, a pinch between her eyebrows. “…Was that for me?”

“Uh.”

The confusion melts off her face, replaced by a cheeky grin. “It was!”

Max shuts the alarm off, cheeks burning. “Why were you guys at Mike’s for so long?” she asks. eager to change the subject. If the guys are meeting up at Dustin’s the delay wasn’t because Will and Mike were catching up, and, well, Mike and El’s relationship is…of interest to Max. For reasons.

El purses her lips. It’s a face that tells Max they’re gonna need to be sitting and cozy for this conversation because it’s gonna be a long one. So, she links their arms and pulls her inside.

An hour later they’re huddled under a throw blanket on the couch. El is giggling, face in her hands, and Max is wheezing around a mouthful of skittles.

“Oh, that’s so not funny,” she chokes out, trying not to spew candy everywhere, which brings about a fresh wave of laughter. El’s shoulders are shaking, brushing against Max’s and making her warm all over. God damn, she’s missed this.

“Then why are you laughing,” El replies, poking her side and smiling from ear-to-ear.

She’s beautiful, Max thinks. Her braid is half-undone, letting her hair curl around her face in gentle waves, and her eyes are bright. She looks happy, and Max holds on to that, keeps it all for herself because she did that, she made that happen. She might not have everything she wants from El, but she’ll take whatever she can get. Whatever El wants to give. And sometimes just her smiles are enough, enough to make Max’s chest constrict and her heart glow, because for now, she’s happy too.

She laughs again, in leu of a response. How can she not, when she feels so light she could float away, high on the soft strawberry scent of El’s shampoo and the way her cheek dimples when she grins. But she can’t say that, so she says, “Because it’s Mike,” and pokes El right back. “I’m legally obligated to laugh at his misfortune.”

They have a complicated friendship, which mostly boils down to her being willing to bail him out when he’s in shit, but only if she gets to make fun of him while she does it.

El wrinkles her nose a little, but her smile doesn’t dim, “You two are weird.”

She’s pretty sure it used to bother El, how much Mike and Max fought. Max can’t help but wonder if they’d have gotten along better if she wasn’t in love with his girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. Because she’d dumped him for good this time. Four months ago, apparently, though Mike was, until a few hours ago, under the impression it was temporary.

Max almost feels bad for him. Except she doesn’t. Apparently, he was a dick about the whole thing, so at least she has a solid reason not to.

“You love us,” Max scoffs. El may have broken up with Mike, but she’ll always love him in some way or another.

El’s expression softens, turns fond and sweet. She’s thinking about Mike, Max is sure, but the smile is still directed as her. Small victories. “I do,” she says quietly.

They order a pizza after that, and watch movies into the wee hours of the morning. By 3am Max’s throat is raw, and her stomach hurts from laughing (and too much pizza). It’s the most fun she’s had in a while. The Byers’ don’t visit as often as any of them would like.

Max isn’t even tired, but El’s head has been dropping onto her shoulder on and off for the past hour so she suggests they call it a night.

She knows that when the boys sleep over at each other’s houses they’ll take the floor, or the couch in the basement, anything but actually sharing a bed. As El wraps an arm around her waist and snuggles up with her under the blankets, Max takes a moment to wonder if that would be better or worse than this.

It always seemed so miserable to Max, how much boys have to limit themselves.  

But also…well, it might be easier sometimes. She wouldn’t have to deal with wanting things she shouldn’t want because El would be over there, and not right up in her space, hands warm and breath tickling Max’s ear. This is different than sitting thigh-to-thigh on the couch, it blurs the line more, and it’s the ambiguity that’s driving Max crazy.

She wasn’t tired before, but she’s wide-awake now.

Time creeps by strangely this late at night. Max isn’t sure how long she lays there, staring at the ceiling, trying to calm her pounding heart. El’s breath is steady, quiet, and her eyes are closed. Max is sure she’s asleep, she was so tired before.

Before she can stop herself her hand creeps up, brushes a strand of hair from El’s face.

Moonlit, she’s ethereal. There’s always been something otherworldly about El, with her big, dark eyes, always watching, boring holes into you with their intensity. Shadows play across her cheek, and Max tracks them for a while, absurdly jealous of moonlight.

She traces patterns on El’s forearm, the one resting on Max’s stomach, keeping her touch light so as not to wake her.

More time passes, and Max’s head feels heavy with sleep that won’t come. She’s groggy, leaning back but unable to keep her eyes closed.

She starts talking. Whispering. Remembering the times she read Wonder Woman comics to El until she fell asleep, and hoping, somewhere in her foggy brain, that it might work on herself too.

“You know… I always knew we’d be good friends. The second I heard your name I wanted to know you,” she murmurs, and draws a star on El’s wrist. “Didn’t know how badly I wanted until I saw you though. You were terrifying, and I loved it. And now…” Her eyes slide closed as she thinks. “You’re the best person I’ve ever met. You’re beautiful. Everything about you. And I love you…more than I should.” She sighs, sits in silence and cards her fingers through El’s hair. It’s getting so long.  

El’s hand closes around her wrist.

Max’s eyes fly open, and she stills, heart pounding. “Uh.” El’s eyes are open, looking up at her, she’s awake, she’s awake, oh fuck– “Um. Did—did I wake you up, I’m—sorry if I woke you—”

“It’s okay.” The corners of her mouth turn up, slow and careful, “I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“Oh.” Is all Max can manage, staring down at El with wide eyes, waiting for her to…do something. Max’s palms are sweating. She doesn’t know what to expect.

El moves her hand, puts Max’s palm against her cheek and shuffles forward until they’re nose to nose.

“Oh.”

She tastes like toothpaste and kiwi lip balm, and kisses as sweetly as she smiles. Her hands end up in Max’s hair, fingers gentle but demanding, guiding her forward. If Max wasn’t already laying down, she’d need to be because her knees are jelly.

“Oh,” El echoes when she pulls back, laughter in her voice. She presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Max’s mouth, careful and deliberate. Then her expression softens, sobers. “I was jealous of you. At first. Didn’t…know what it was. Know why. So, I ignored you. And… I’m sorry.”

Max shakes her head, “Ancient history. It’s okay.”

“No, I,” El stops, furrows her brow, “You were so happy. Free. I wanted that. And then, then you helped me have that. So. Thank you.” She cups Max’s face, fingertips tracing along her cheekbone, and Max’s heart sings. “And I love you too.”

They kiss again, and Max decides that El sleeping on the floor would’ve been a terrible idea.

[angsty-omi]

tooru oikawa x reader

“i hope that one day i’ll be able to replace you the way you replaced me.”

it’s hard y’know?

hearing his squeaked sneakers and the click of her heels walking down the hallway. hand in hand, confidently striding past you. her strong perfume left a mark after her presence. smelling like coconut... tooru hates coconut. you remembered the time where you tried to switch up your shampoo and tooru immediately noticed when walking into your bedroom. hated it. made you re-shower and scrub extra hard to get that scent away. then the realization hit you like a train. he just hated it on you, but could bare it with her. he liked her so much better, that he could bare the scent he detests.

last week was the last time you called tooru oikawa yours.

after losing to karasuno, the team was in shambles. tears left and right. you waited for tooru to step out of the locker room and prepared to give him affirmations and affections. although, when he walked out there were a bunch of girls already hoarding him. you could almost laugh at the sight. these girls don’t know tooru like you do. they don’t know how he feels, acts, and taste. but you do. thus, you never worried or felt insecure around these fangirls. so, you just waited for tooru to come up to you. you watched him meticulously, as he was taking very long with a certain fan. if you weren’t paying enough attention, you wouldn’t have seen the girl slip her number into his pocket. he didn’t even notice her action, since she used excuses of why she had to touch his jacket. after the whole ordeal, he finally got to you. with you, he could let his guard down. the facade of him being a nice guy to all his fans were taking a toll on him. as he grabbed your hand and found somewhere secluded, he cried in your arms. you held him tight around his neck and your back started to get wet. soothing his back and whispering “i know baby,” were things other girls couldn’t do.

although, after this, tooru changed. you couldn’t figure out why. he started to become obnoxious and rude to kids who weren’t necessarily popular. the final straw was when he was acting this way with you. his girlfriend. the same girl that watched him breakdown on her lap the whole night. the same girl that he wouldn’t let out of his bed to get dressed.

you waited outside the gates to walk with tooru. at the entrance, you saw him with the girl that gave him her number. although tooru was being civil, she kept clinging on to him. viewing this, you felt a slight bubble of jealousy in your stomach. as he walked over to you, the girl immediately walked the other way. he handed you his hand to hold, but you weren’t having it.

“tooru, i don’t like that girl. she makes me feel uncomfortable.” you sternly said while walking.

him beside you, “y/n you’re overreacting. she’s just a friend.” tooru sighed like you always did this.

“do friends cling on your arm? or pinch your cheeks? or giggle at every single thing you do?”

“she’s not like that, i promise.”

“mhm... okay.”

you hear him murmur something under his breath.

“what was that?” you put your hand to your ear, dramatically.

“i said, you should be lucky to even be with me”

“what?”

tooru then rolls his eyes at you.

“did you hear what i said idiot? i said you should be lucky to be with me”

“how am i lucky? you think it’s lucky to only see you on weekends because you’re so consumed with volleyball? huh? is that what you think? and on top of that, seeing the whole female population flirting with you every single game?”

“exactly so you see these girls and you think you’re special?”

at this point, you couldn’t believe your ears, “umm yeah because i’m your girlfriend? i would think so?”

“and you think i couldn’t replace yo-,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, hoping that you didn’t just hear him.

oh but you did. loud and clearly. just then, you abruptly stop your walking. tears riling up your eyes.

“f-f-fine, if that’s what you think, then go ahead replace me. w-we’re done o-o-oikawa.” spewing his surname like he meant nothing to you. your back was facing him, but he knew. he knew you were crying. and yet, he didn’t seem to stop you nor apologize. in oikawa’s whole life, he never won at anything. he lost to a boy that was younger than him, more athletic, and overall a better setter. subconsciously, the only thing he could win was petty arguments like this one. but was it worth it? he’d soon find out weeks later.

in those days, you haven’t reached out to him, so he assumed you were over it and with his pride in the way, he didn’t want other students to know what really happened, so he decided to appear as the winner. the one who broke it off, the savant who moved past his ex and onto a new girl.

and that’s exactly why he did. though his outer appearance looked more happy, his insides were complete opposites. he hated the smell of coconut on her, or how compared to you, she was not funny. at all. she was bland and her humor was like speaking to a millennial on hump days. he couldn’t help but look over at you once in a while to see how you were dealing with the breakup. he couldn’t read you though, your face seemed drained out of pure tiredness, making you seem like an emotionless statue. during class, he noticed that your head hung low while tapping your pen against the table.

his new girl took notice of this, “tooru why do you keep looking at y/n?” she asked jealously.

as if he could not get anymore of a douche, his immediate reaction was, “y/n’s fucking pen tapping is so goddamn annoying, it’s fitting for her i mean look at her.”

you were sick of it. being walked on. being the butt of everyone’s joke. you were a ticking time bomb, and oh- you just exploded.

“well if i’m so goddamn annoying then maybe sob to your little whore the next time you lose a dumb shit of a game you call your livelihood, in which oh yeah! continues to remind you how you will always. be. just. second. best.”

the whole class erupted in laughter. your throat started to burn and his eyes widened in shock. you went too far and you knew it. you thought you would’ve felt good giving him a taste of his own medicine, but you felt guilt and pain. like his heart was yours, and you could feel it cracking.

“oikawa, y/n to the principal’s office now!” the teacher interjected.

as you both waited on the bench in front of the office, your principal decided not to call your parents, and let you both figure it out.

you spoke first, “listen.. for what it’s worth, i’m sorry. i’m sorry for saying all those rude things. i’m sorry for calling you second best. i’m sorry for belittling your passions. i’m sorry for not being a good girlfriend. i’m sorry for not being enough-” your voice started to get shake-y.

“god you just don’t shut up do you?” oikawa chuckled. you smiled a bit in return.

“y/n.. i don’t know where to start. no one has ever seen me so vulnerable, and you being there scared me. i didn’t deserve you, someone like kageyama did. you deserve a winner. i didn’t want to be someone you’d resent or find ‘too sensitive’ so i put myself first and for that i’m sorry. really sorry… and i miss you,” he hesitated for a second before continuing, “could you ever see us together again?”

you were speechless. so speechless you didn’t realize your hand meeting his face. your eyes widened in shock.

“i guess i deserved that.” he clenched his jaw.

“how dare you? how fucking dare you? sure i can forgive you, as a peer. but to start up what we have? what we had? you’re crazy. if you truly thought that i would what? think you’re ‘too sensitive’ then you don’t know me at all. safe to say if this how you react when shit hits the fan i don’t want to know what would’ve happened if we got married.”

his eyes lit up at the word ‘married’. what could’ve been if he’d just allow himself to be vulnerable and not have high standards for himself.

“i will always love you oikawa, but never in that way again. and for that, i’m sorry.” you got up, head held high with your back facing to him. specifically because tears were burning your cheeks. one more minute with him and you would’ve folded and taken him back.

[knickynoo]

Gonna regret asking this as soon as you answer, but what do you think Marty would’ve done had doc actually died in the parking lot? Like immediately and beyond? And just to spread the pain around, what would doc have done had Marty died by buford’s hand?

This is another one of those asks that got backlogged. Sorry, anon. I've given some thought to these scenarios, though, and, well...I'm sorry. This is gonna be dark.

Had Doc not heeded Marty's warning and actually died (& assuming Marty re-loading the time machine with plutonium and trying to fix things isn't possible for some reason):

Marty would've continued to sit on the cold ground, sobbing for a long while. Einstein would join him, torn between trying to comfort his young friend and whimpering by Doc, trying to get the man to wake up.

Once the initial flood of tears eases, I could see Marty getting angry. Like, the angriest he's ever been. Screaming at Doc, at himself, and maybe finding things in Doc's truck to throw around and destroy. Then another wave of sadness would hit and he'd break down again.

Eventually, Marty would realize he needed to get moving. Someone was bound to see the fire caused by the Libyans' van and also the truck, DeLorean on the street in town, and the man lying dead in the mall parking lot. He'd know that the police would soon be called and that there would be a lot of questions that he'd rather not have to answer, but Marty would be very hesitant to go. He wouldn't want to leave his best friend. How could he? It would be a betrayal. He'd be a coward to run. Doc wouldn't leave him if the roles were reversed. So he'd stay, shivering in the cold night air, trying to figure out what he'll say. What they'll ask him.

After, he'd find a payphone and call the police himself. Upon their arrival, though, he'd lean into his own hysteria and act like he had no clue what happened. Maybe explain he was Doc's assistant and that he'd been asked to come to the mall but he'd shown up late and found the scene as it was already. When it came down to it, Marty would really be too much of a mess to talk to anyone, and the authorities on the scene would just see a distraught kid who needed to get home.

(There's a lot that could probably be said about how things would unfold once Marty got home, but in the interest of wanting to skip ahead, I'll just say that George and Lorraine would be horrified. Scared out of their minds and confused at what had happened. They'd likely do everything in their power to shield Marty from questions and prying eyes in the weeks that would follow)

Oh, right...on top of Doc being dead and Marty having witnessed it (twice!), he'd also have to deal with the whiplash at his suddenly new family. Which would really not be a good situation.

Things would rapidly fall apart for Marty once the dust settled and the reality of things set in. He'd be dealing with a family who all felt like strangers. He'd have no memories of ever having lived with those people. He wouldn't even be able to talk to Jennifer about anything for fear of sounding crazy and scaring her away. His best friend in the world, the only person who Marty felt truly understood him, was gone.

I think some pretty significant PTSD would be likely. Marty would have constant nightmares of Doc getting killed. Of trying and failing over and over to save him. And even with his loving, supportive parents doing all they can, it wouldn't be enough. Marty wouldn't feel a real connection to them or want their help. He wouldn't want Jennifer's help. He'd just want Doc back. He'd torture himself with thoughts of what he could have done differently that night he left 1955 or upon his arrival back to '85. He'd blame himself entirely for not trying hard enough. Not being smart enough or brave enough to have done something to save Doc.

Things would only be made worse as rumors swirled around town. Doc would be solidified as a villain in Hill Valley. A crazy, dangerous man who drew terrorists to their quiet little town and almost got a teenager killed. Marty would have to listen to whispers of people's theories as to what happened that night and hear them express their relief that Doc was no longer around to cause them any trouble. People would shoot Marty sideways glances, either looking down on him for having been acquainted with the deranged scientist or holding pity for him. Classmates would harass and taunt him, wanting to know what happened. Wanting to hear the "real story".

All the while, Marty is consumed by a grief he's unable to escape. He'd probably go one of two ways. Too depressed to function, he'd sort of withdraw entirely from life. Break up with Jennifer, shut his family out, abandon his music, etc. He'd see no real point in trying to make a good life for himself and be too anxious to ever move out of his comfort zone. On the other hand, he could give in to his anger and swing the other way, becoming self-destructive and sabotaging his future--drinking, dropping out of school, and using his fists to deal with any peers who dare to say a bad word about Doc. Either way, he'd be upset at himself because he'd know Doc would want better for him. Expect better of him. But he wouldn't be able to pull himself together because he'd be so stuck having convinced himself Doc's death was his fault.

Where would all of this leave our dear Marty as the years pass? I'm not sure. He'd either spiral totally beyond reach or eventually hit rock bottom and realize that he had to let go of all the sadness and anger and live up to all the potential Doc was always saying he had. At that point, though, he would have lost years to his grief, so getting his life together would be difficult. And...yeah.

That was lovely, wasn't it? Doc's turn!

Had Marty actually been killed by Buford (again assuming using time travel to fix things isn't an eventual option):

I feel like, initially, Doc would skip right past the devastated/crying phase and go immediately to a level of anger he'd never felt before. Do you remember how he acted when Buford was harassing Clara at the dance, especially when she was pushed down? Remember how it took 3 of Buford's guys to hold Doc back?? Yeah, well, take that and multiply it a couple of times.

I think it's quite possible that Doc would attempt to take Buford down right there, which likely wouldn't end well for him. But he wouldn't even care. He was heartbroken already over Clara and then his best friend in the world is killed in front of him. All rational parts of Doc would be gone. And seeing as Buford is, you know, dangerously unhinged and has his little posse with him, Doc might end up getting himself killed a minute or two later as well. In which case...well, that would be the end of this scenario. He and Marty would end up buried next to each other in the Old West.

If Doc somehow managed to survive an encounter with Buford, or if he didn't confront him at all because he was in such a state of shock, I think he'd resign himself to a quiet, lonely life in the 1880s. I'm not sure if he'd stay in town and work as a blacksmith. Maybe? If he wanted the distraction? But he also might move away to a little house and just live off the land.

Not sure how Clara would factor in, assuming she'd return to town to find Doc after getting off her train. I don't know if Doc would push her away, wanting to be totally alone in his misery or if he would cling to her.

Doc would be dealing with a lot of guilt. He'd decide that he was responsible for Marty's death. After all, he'd made the decision to stay in the saloon all night, and Marty had to then track him down. Then he'd taken that shot and passed out, costing them valuable time they could have otherwise used to be well on their way to the train. They could have avoided Buford altogether if it weren't for him, Doc would conclude, and in his mind, he'd essentially forced Marty to have to face the man.

Doc might eventually settle into a routine and go about living his life, but I don't know that he'd ever recover from the crushing guilt he'd feel. Losing Marty would shatter him. Marty was the first person to reach out to him, even with all the rumors and disdain other residents of the town threw his way. Marty liked and accepted him for who he was, something no one else had ever truly done. Marty brought so much good into his life, and in exchange, Doc had done all he could to be there for and protect his young friend--to help him see his own potential. But he couldn't protect Marty, and that failure would hurt more deeply than every other one combined.

Basically, I think that Doc would just lose part of himself after losing Marty. Even if he married Clara and had Jules and Verne and ended up with a nice life, he'd always feel the absence of his friend. He wouldn't ever fully be "Doc" again--more of a subdued, more serious version of himself.

I could see him holding it together for the most part, being a family man, all that stuff. But then he'd have moments where he'd find himself alone and just fall apart. And just to make things extra sad for anyone who's read this far, I imagine Doc taking very frequent trips to wherever Marty is buried, laying a few flowers down, and staying there for hours, crying, praying, talking to himself, or just sitting in silence.

Well. Anyway.

Thanks for the ask?

[futurebicon]

Dusk Till Dawn

I was gonna post this later but I physically can not wait any longer.

Apologize in advance

CW- death, panic attack, screaming, crying, fighting, accidental slight domestic abuse, self-harm, depression, anxiety, mention of child abuse, food, suicide attempt, hospital, dissociation, grief, hurt, blood, overdose, surgery

Remus didn’t know what to do or how to help.

All he could do was hold Sirius as he kicked and screamed and cried and punched and gasped for air.

“I’m so sorry,” Remus whispered even though he knew his husband wasn’t processing what he was saying. “I’m so sorry.” Tears streamed down his face.

Remus didn’t know how much time had passed since they got the call.

Heart attack.

Overworked with physical activity.

Celeste had called them crying.

It was at least an hour later when Sirius collapsed against him, exhausted from the meltdown.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Remus kissed the top of his head.

“I can’t, Re. Please,” Sirius gasped out quietly. “I can’t.”

“Shh, I know. It’s gonna be okay.” Remus held him tighter.

“I don’t want. I don’t want to.” He sobbed.

Remus had nothing else to say until his phone rang.

“Hey, Logan.” He asked the call.

“Did Celeste tell you?” Logan’s voice was a broken sob.

“Yeah,”

“Okay, uh, is Sirius okay?” He asked.

“Not at all. Are you?”

“No.” He sobbed. “No.”

“Logan I’m so, so fucking sorry.”

Dumo had been a father to everyone on the team but it was different with Sirius and Logan. They had lived with him for years, had breakfast with him in the morning and dinner with him at night, watched TV together, talked to him about what was going on in their lives. He was truly their father.

Even more so for Sirius.

Sirius never understood what a father was supposed to be like until he met Dumo.

He knew they weren’t supposed to hit their kids but he didn’t know that they were supposed to love them.

Dumo was the first person to truly, truly care about him.

Yes, Regulus loved him and cared for him but that was different.

Sirius didn’t know what love was so he ran away from it. Not joining in on dinners, staying in his room, not speaking unless spoken to.

But Dumo never let him get too far. He didn’t push Sirius to join them or talk with him but he didn’t let him think he was alone.

Slowly Sirius stopped trying to escape it and instead started to welcome it.

It still took a while for him to truly open up, but Dumo was always there.

Dumo was always there.

He didn’t leave when Sirius would flinch away from his touch or fast movements or loud sounds.

He didn’t leave when he walked into Sirius’s room while the teenager was having a full-blown panic attack that left him paralyzed.

He didn’t leave when Sirius gave him a black eye because he was trying to wake him up from a nightmare.

He didn’t leave when he saw the bandages.

He never left.

Even when Sirius moved out he was still there.

Remus didn’t know who Sirius would call or what he would do without Dumo.

“Arthur’s gonna call us all in tomorrow and tell the rest of the team.” Logan pulled him back to reality.

“They don’t know?” “No, uh, Celeste only told me, you, and Arthur.”

“I’ll see how Sirius is but I doubt we’re going to be able to go” Remus looked down at Sirius, who had fallen asleep after exhausting himself.

“Yeah neither of us have to go. I still don’t know if I’m going to.”

“Let me know if you are.”

“I will,” Logan told him. “Alright, um, tell Sirius I’m here if he needs me.”

“I’ll tell him, but know that we’re here for you too.”

“I know.” Logan let out another sob he had been holding in and hung up quickly.

+++

Sirius and Remus stopped when they walked into the conference room.

“Hi,” Celeste sadly smiled at them, obviously exhausted.

“I did-didn’t know you were coming.” Remus stammered.

“I can’t stay long. I just had to come by and help write the statement to give to the league.” Celeste met Sirius’s eyes as she explained.

Sirius quickly looked down at the ground.

“Hey, Sirius.” She said softly.

“I can’t.” He looked up with tears streaming down his face. “Celeste I don’t know- I can’t.”

Celeste wrapped him in her arms as he fell into her sobbing.

“He loved you so much, Sirius. He was so, so proud of you.” Celeste told him as everyone left the room to give them time alone.

“I don’t know what to do.” He pulled away.

“Come talk,” she led him over to the table.

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with me. You should be with your kids.” Sirius wiped his eyes but the tears were still falling.

“You’re my son just like Marc and Louis are. Now talk to me.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.” He admitted.

“What do you feel?”

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it. It’s like I can feel all the emotions but I’m also numb to them but not fully numb because they still hurt.” He sobbed. “Celeste it hurt. It hurts so fucking bad. It hurts.”

“I know it does sweetheart. I know.” She hugged him again.

“I don’t think I can do this.” He shook his head. “I can’t handle this feeling. I need it to stop.”

“Hey, none of that.” She cupped his cheek. “Adele and Katie and Marc and Louis already lost their father, they don’t want to lose their brother too.”

“I don’t want them to but I can’t take this.”

“You can Sirius. You’re strong. It’s going to get better. I know we’re all gonna miss him more than anything. But it will stop hurting so much.”

Sirius could only cling to her and sob.

++++

“Hi, baby.” Remus hugged Sirius as he walked out of the room with Celeste.

Sirius curled into his chest.

“I’m gonna head out,” Celeste told them with a sad smile. “The kids are with their grandparents and the team’s already here.”

They said their goodbyes and walked into the main lounge where half the team was already gathered.

“You okay?” James asked Sirius who could only shake his head and collapsed onto the couch, letting Remus pull him onto his lap.

The previously happy energy in the room dulled as they waited for the rest of the team to trickle in. The energy rose slightly as they cracked jokes to lighten the mood.

“Alright now that you’re all here-”

“Dumo’s not.” Nado pointed out.

“I know,” Arthur said sadly.

“Hey if he gets to skip why couldn’t we?” Kasey protested.

“Make him do extra laps tomorrow,” Thomas told Arthur.

All of their remarks stopped as they looked over at Sirius as he sobbed into Remus’s chest. Logan had his arms crossed on his knees and head buried in his arms his body shook as Leo and Finn rubbed his back.

“Coach why’s Dumo late?” James looked at Arthur. The coach had tears streaming down his face.

“Why is Dumo late?” Kasey asked through clenched teeth.

“Celeste called last night.” He started to explain. “He had a heart attack.”

“No” Thomas shook his head.

“Oh god,” Lily threw her hand over her mouth.

“They tried to bring him-”

“Stop.” James shook his head in shock.

“I’m so sorry.” his voice broke.

The room filled with silent sobs.

“The league’s going to release a statement tonight,” Arthur told them before falling silent, letting them all process the news in silence.

“Celeste wants us to clean out his locker.” He said a few minutes later. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, she just wants to get everything out of it so she can keep some things. She said you can have anything you want from it.”

The team stood up numbly and walked into the locker room.

“You sure?” Remus asked Sirius as he climbed off his lap. Sirius nodded and grabbed onto his hand.

It was only silent whispers and cries as the team pulled things from his locker and stall.

“Stop,” Remus’s loud voice cut through the silence. “Sirius stop.”

They watched as Sirius punched Remus’s arms that were wrapped tight around his waist to hold him back.

“Let me go.” Sirius snarled, getting lifted off the ground when he tried to kick Remus’s legs. “Let me go.”

“I’m not gonna let you go until you calm down.” Remus held him tight.

Sirius didn’t stop.

The team watched their captain in shock and overwhelming sadness.

“Sirius, you have to stop. You’re going to make yourself sick, baby.” Remus tried to calm him.

Then Sirius is screaming.

Just screams.

And screams and screams.

They’re terrifying sounds. Torturously filled with panic and grief and sadness and desperation and anger and pleas.

He screams until his voice wears out and he can’t fight anymore. He turns around in Remus’s arms and screams with what little voice he has left.

Remus was shaking with sobs as he held his broken husband. Wishing he could fix everything that broke him.

Remus picked Sirius up as his knees gave out and carried him out of the locker room. Leaving everyone in silence.

++++++

It didn’t truly hit Remus until the league released a statement.

Then it hit hard.

They had breaking news on all the sports channels to explain his death and what it meant for the team.

Once the tweets started he made sure Sirius was still asleep after exhausting himself from breakdowns last night and quietly left the bedroom.

As soon as he stood in front of the sink he started shaking.

Moments later it all hit.

He sank against the wall with silent sobs.

He had lost people before, his grandpa, an uncle, but he wasn’t close with them.

He was close with Dumo.

Hell, he’s the reason he’s married to the love of his life.

His first thought when they got the call was Sirius.

And that’s who he had focused on since the call.

All the effort it took for him to try and be there for his husband, left little time to think about anything else.

But Sirius was asleep and all the tweets he was being tagged in that told him that they were sorry for his loss. Now he could process it.

He cried for Dumo, and Celeste, and Adele, Marc, Louis, Katie, the team, the fans, Logan, Sirius.

He cried for all of them.

He cried until he felt someone sit down beside him and pull him into their chest.

He was going to apologize for waking Sirius but his mind was racing too fast and all he could do was let Sirius hold him and cry.

+++3 Days Later+++

“Sirius?” Remus shot up as he felt the empty bed beside him. “Sirius?”

He ran out of the room calling his husband’s name with no response and, fuck, this wasn’t good.

“Sirius? Sirius.” Remus stopped as he looked into the ice rink in their basement.

Sirius was shooting pucks into the goal. Each shot more forceful and more powerful than the last.

“Baby,” Remus called out, getting his attention. But the black-haired man just shook his head after making eye contact. And went back to hit the black rubber.

“Baby.” He called out again. “Come back to bed. Please love?”

Sirius dropped his stick and stood in the center of the ice panting.

Remus could see the tears now that he was standing still. He was wearing simple grey sweatpants that he had stolen from Remus. But his heart jolted when he saw the hoodie.

It was Dumos lucky hoodie.

As much as the older man said superstitions were stupid, he never played a game without wearing it.

The once bright blue fabric was now a dull blue-grey color.

The red letters barely readable after too many washes.

The small New York Rangers logo was only noticeable if you knew it was there before.

The team always chirped at him for wearing it. “That’s betrayal, Dumo.”

Celeste had given it to Sirius earlier but he had refused to even touch it until now.

Sirius skated over to the side and took off his skates quickly before pushing past his husband.

“Sirius” Remus followed him up the stairs. “Hey, stop.” He grabbed his arm.

“Leave me alone.”

“Sirius calm down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Sirius seethed and hit his hand away.

“Calm down and I won’t have to tell you to.”

“I fucking hate you.” Sirius gritted his teeth and pushed Remus in the chest.

“Don’t push me,” Remus told him firmly.

“I don’t know why I married you.” He pushed him again, with more force as tears streamed down his face.

“Stop pushing me.”

“I hate you.” He pushed him hard, Remus’s back hitting the wall.

“Sirius don’t fucking push me.”

“I HATE YOU.” He screamed and raised his fist.

“Don’t you dare,” Remus grabbed his hand before it could connect with his face before grabbing the other and holding them in a restraint. “You can scream and cry and tell me you hate me or that you don’t love me all you want, I’m not gonna stop you.” He told him firmly. “But I am never going to let you hit me.”

Sirius seemed to snap out of his trance and collapsed into Remus. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He sobbed and screamed.

“I know. I know you’re sorry. I know you didn’t mean to but no matter how angry you are, you can’t physically hurt me, or someone else, or yourself.” Remus held him.

Sirius could only sob.

“This doesn’t mean you’re your parents, Sirius.” Remus could read his mind. “Your parents hit for no reason. You tried to hit me because you’re angry and scared and devastated and so many other emotions that you don’t know how to handle.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“No, it doesn’t make it okay. But there was still an understandable reason for it, meaning you aren’t your parents.”

“I didn’t- know- I- was- do-doing-ing it,” He gasped. “I don-don-t know-why- I- di-did- i-i-it-t-it.” He was hyperventilating at this point. His knees gave out and dragged both of them to the floor.

“You need to take deep breaths for me, baby. You’re going to pass out if you don’t slow your breathing down.” He kissed his forehead. “Try and match your breathing with mine.” He put Sirius’s hand over his chest.

Sirius choked and gasped for a few minutes before sobbing. “I-I can’t.”

“I know it’s hard but you’ve got to try my love. Breath with me okay.” He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. Repeating it until Sirius started to follow his rhythm.

“Good job baby.” He kissed his forehead again as his breathing slowed.

“I don’t know why I did it.” He hiccuped slightly.

“Baby you grew up in a world where abuse was a sign of emotion. If your parents were angry they hit. If they were disappointed they hit. If they were hurt they hit. You learned that if you’re hurting you make others hurt. Not verbally like some people do but physically. That’s what you had always known and accepted. And yes you aren’t controlled by their tactics anymore but your mind still remembers those lessons that you didn’t even know you learned.” Remus rubbed his back and rocked him slightly as he explained.

“Right now you are hurting more than you ever have before. And you are devastated and panicked and angry. And those are all normal and perfectly okay to feel. But your mind doesn’t know what to do with this level of emotions so it goes through everything that has happened when you felt these emotions until it thinks it’s found a way to get rid of them. In your mind anger had always and only meant pain and hurt. It’s not your fault baby. It’s not. But we’re gonna have to figure out a way to stop your mind from thinking that.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“I know you are. And just because it’s not your fault and that it’s not really you that’s doing it, does not mean I’m going to allow you to hurt yourself or someone else.”

“I’m so sorry.” Sirius sobbed again.

++++++++ 2 months later ++++++++

“And with 5 minutes left of practice, they come calling.” Arthur pulled out his ringing phone. “Hey, Loops.” He put the man on speaker. “Where are you?”

“The uh, um,” He sounded dazed and disoriented.

“Remus? Are you okay?” Arthur asked.

“Hospital. At the hospital.”

“What? Why?” James asked.

“Sirius, he, he, uh, ki- tried, cut. He tried to ki, ki-” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Oh god,” Leo breathed.

“Is he okay?” Logan asked.

“They pu-pumped his stomach.” He trailed off.

“Remus?” Arthur asked after a short stretch of silence.

“Sorry. He’s in surgery, on his, uhm, wrist. Was too deep.”

The team all stood in shock.

“Do you want us to be there?” Arthur asked him.

“Please.” Remus gasped.

“Okay. Yeah, we’ll be there soon. Do you need anything?”

“Clothes. There’s blood. Clothes?”

“Yeah someone will grab you a change of clothes.”

“In bag. Locker. Sirius’s. Clothes.” Remus seemed to be getting more and more disoriented.

“Alright, we’ll bring them,” Arthur told him as Finn dug through Sirius’s bag and pulled out a change of clothes.

“Okay.”

“We’ll be there soon.”

“Okay.” Remus hung up.

“Fuck” James collapsed into his best friend’s stall, sobbing.

+++++++

“Oh, shit” Kasey breathed when they turned the corner into the waiting room.

There was blood on Remus’s clothes.

Sirius’s blood was on Remus’s clothes.

“Hey, Loops.” Finn walked in and handed him the bag of spare clothes to change into.

“Hmm?” Remus blinked. “Oh, thank you.” He took the bag from him and stood up.

“Woah,” Finn caught him as he staggered. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Remus stood up and tripped out of the room on shaky legs.

He took one look in the mirror and ripped off his clothes, chucking them in the garbage. Quickly putting on the clean clothes that smelled like his lover, and started to wash the blood off his arms.

He scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until he felt the faucet turn off and the soap taken out of his hands.

“It’s off, Fruit Loops,” Thomas told him softly.

“I’m gonna lose him. I’m gonna lose him.” Remus whispered around the sob stuck in his throat.

“No, you’re not. You’re not gonna lose him. We’re not gonna lose him.” Thomas said firmly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“No need to apologize.”

“Um, thanks for, you know, coming to check on me.”

“I got your back Loop, we all do.” Thomas threw an arm around Remus, in support and to keep him upright, as they walked back to the waiting room.

“Remus.” Lily was there when they walked back in. “God I’m so sorry.”

Remus let her pull him into a hug and sobbed into her neck.

++++++++

Remus looked up when someone new walked into the waiting room.

“Hey,” He stood up as Celeste hugged him.

“How is he?” She asked when he pulled away, tears streamed down her face.

“I don’t know. Last thing they said was that he was in surgery.”

“What happened?” She asked softly as they sat down.

Remus let out a sob. “It’s my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” Celeste told him along with the rest of the team.

“It is. I knew something was off. I knew something was wrong.” Remus couldn’t hold back his sobs any longer.

“When he woke up he said he was going to get a drink but was going to come back to bed and I fell back asleep for a few minutes and he wasn’t back so I went to the bathroom cause the light was on but the door was locked and he wasn’t answering and I kicked down the door and he was pale and he wasn’t moving and the cuts kept bleeding and they wouldn’t stop. I tried to stop it but I couldn’t. They wouldn’t stop bleeding. There was so much blood and he wasn’t breathing. I couldn’t stop the bleeding.” He was hysterical by the end. Celeste pulled him into her arms and shushed him softly. “He had no pulse. He was dead. He kept dying in the ambulance. He wouldn’t stop dying.”

Celeste squeezed the distraught man until he calmed down.

“Fuck, sorry.” Remus pulled away and wiped his eyes. “I don’t know why I freaked out like that.”

“Remus, your husband is in the hospital. You’re allowed to freak out.” Arthur told him.

Everything stopped as the doctor walked in.

+++++

Remus’s breath hitched as he stood in the doorway of Sirius’s stale hospital room.

His husband looked up at the noise.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius gasped. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, my love.” Remus rushed over to Sirius and leaned his forehead against the others.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” The distraught man kept repeating as tears fell fast.

“I love you. It’s okay. I love you. It’s okay.” Remus cupped his cheek and cried along with him.

“I’m sorry.” Sirius couldn’t stop repeating.

“Shh, shh. Don’t apologize. Baby, please don’t apologize.” Remus pressed his lips to his husband’s forehead, letting his lips linger on the warm skin.

Sirius’s words slowly and quietly faded out until only sobs left his mouth.

Remus pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed. He took Sirius’s hand lightly and tried as hard as he could to ignore the white bandages wrapped around his wrists.

They sat in silence as Remus rubbed soothing circles on the back of his hand.

“Please say something,” Sirius pleaded.

“I thought I lost you,” Remus whispered.

“I'm sorry,” Sirius’s voice was worn out.

“I thought you died.” He gritted his teeth. “And I didn’t know what I was going to do. I didn’t know if I was going to live while you weren’t.”

“Please, please don’t say that,”

“It’s the truth, Sirius. You don’t want to live without Dumo and I don’t want to live without you,”

Sirius stayed silent.

“I have never felt so purely hopeless than I felt when I was in that bathroom. There was nothing I could do.”

“I’m so sorry I’m putting you through this.”

“Stop apologizing,” Remus begged.

“It was so stupid of me but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I was two feet away. You promised you would come to me when you felt like this.”

“I didn’t want you to be mad at me.” Sirius wouldn’t meet his eye.

“What?” Remus breathed out. “Baby why would I be ma- have I done anything to make you think I would be mad?”

Sirius shook his head and stared down at his lap.

“Sirius, please. What did I do?”

“Nothing I promise that you didn’t do anything.” Sirius met his eye and looked back down.

“I will never. Ever. Be mad at you about something like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Remus pulled him into his arm, praying that he would never have to let go.

[everythingsinred]

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 6)

Last time, we talked about Natsume's growing crush on Mikan. As the festival continues, his feelings will only grow. Today we'll discuss how these new feelings will affect him, and particularly how they have the potential to create tension in his friendship with Ruka.

Chapter Twenty-One

Mikan is guilty for not having already gone to Iinchou’s haunted house in the latent ability class area. So they end up going together. Although Mikan is easily distracted and wants to try everything in the latent area, Natsume is strict on going straight to the destination with no tangents.

Iinchou lets them in right away without having to wait in the hour-long line. Mikan puts on airs about being a country girl and, just like she’s unafraid of bugs, she’s also not afraid of ghosts. Except she totally is.

Ruka and Natsume don’t seem particularly scared of the haunted house so far, but Mikan is, and she clings to Ruka, desperate not to be left behind, even if it means she hurts him with her grasp.

The person who posted these TokyoPop scans forgot a couple pages so for the longest time the beginning of the chapter was so confusing to me...

Natsume looks behind to see them and is jealous, yet again. Just like with Tsubasa, Natsume is unhappy with his fate to be the bad guy in general. He goes out of his way to look bad to protect people and as a result will not be the one clung to. It’s different from Tsubasa though, because this isn’t some nameless middle schooler that Natsume can take his anger out on: this is his best friend, somebody he’s never felt anything but affection for. Natsume doesn’t want to hurt Ruka; he’s just sad that the situation is so messed up.

Lucky for Ruka, Natsume gives up before there can even be a competition.

It’s for the best this way, after all. For Ruka to be happy, for Mikan to be with somebody kind who deserves her, and even for him, because maybe this way Mikan won’t be used against him like everybody else he cares about.

Natsume makes this decision without talking to anybody and before anyone can even figure out that there’s a choice to be made in the first place.

Then they run into a crawling hag and nobody’s immune to the terror that being chased after by that demon brings. All three of them run for it, but they end up in a new spooky room, which freaks Mikan out so much she screams and faints, foaming at the mouth, causing Natsume to fall and twist his ankle and for Ruka’s rabbit to run off. He chases after it, leaving Natsume and Mikan alone. Iinchou breaks whatever causes the electricity to run in the building and now they’re trapped alone in the dark, unable to get out.

Mikan tries to figure out a way for them to escape, but climbing the wall is out of the question since Natsume’s ankle is twisted. He suggests that he blow up the wall, but Mikan is adamantly against that idea because the latent students worked hard to make the mansion. Natsume acquiesces. That’s fine. He doesn’t mind spending more time with her. It just means she’ll have to stay in the dark for longer.

She is very clingy when she’s scared, and although he complains he doesn’t really make any moves to get her off. I mean, why would he? This is exactly what he wanted, though he did only get it because he was the only person around that she could cling to. There’s a moment where he spooks her, perhaps so she would hug him more, but then she whines for him to stop scaring her and the panels are quite sparkly. Natsume is distressed about his new crush and the effect it has on him. Really her whining and puppy-dog eyes are not any less powerful on Natsume than they are on Ruka. He’s just better at hiding it.

He looks at her softly and then has a moment where he looks almost peeved to have felt so fond at all... but it won't last. These days he has more affection for her than irritation.

Mikan tries apologizing about getting angry with him at Anna’s cafe, but he pretends like he has no idea what she’s talking about. To me, this cements that Natsume wants to look bad to her in particular. He doesn’t really want her to figure out that he’s kind deep down or that he’s selfless 99% of the time. He doesn’t want her to think he cares at all because it’s best for him to continue being the same jerk he has been for the past twenty chapters. He’s okay with her hating him, because that way she won’t become the new Ruka, used by the academy as a pawn to get him to jump through more hoops.

She tries to make him smile and that’s another big deal. Most people think Natsume is cool for being so unaffected. His fans think he’s the man, a tough guy who frowns all the time. Even Ruka’s approach to this issue was to stop smiling too.

Mikan’s approach is to tell jokes.

Of course, it doesn’t work, and the jokes aren’t any good, but Mikan is trying something nobody else has done: instead of looking up to him or going down to his level of misery, Mikan’s trying to lift him up. She wants him to smile and be happy and that sets her apart. She’s immature and childish and that brings out the childishness in him too. And like I mentioned a while ago, childishness in Natsume is a good thing. With her, he can bicker and argue and tease like he used to before he came to the academy. She has no idea what he’s going through and her mood changes so quickly she can’t even stay mad or upset. She’s just a joyful and loud girl who rubs off on everyone she meets and Natsume is far from being an exception.

He can just mess around like a kid for once. He doesn't have to be serious around her all the time.

Thus, the next important thing in regards to analyzing their relationship is that the last page of the chapter has him teasing her and then smiling at her reaction. We’ve only seen Natsume smile twice before: with Youichi for a brief moment, and then with Ruka on the cover for Chapter Sixteen (Natsume's evil smile when Mikan gets bullied by middle schoolers doesn't count as a real smile). This officially adds Mikan to the incredibly short list of people who can make Natsume smile. She’s angry with him, arguing, but being able to let go of all his darkness and just tease a girl and have her act with such strong emotions is enough to make him happy. And that’s what this is: Natsume is happy.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The musical creates some tension between Natsume and Ruka, as expected, because liking the same girl can make rifts between friends. On the other hand, this isn’t your typical love triangle. Usually in love triangles, the two guys are already positioned against each other. Though Natsume and Ruka may be opposites in many ways, they are not rivals at all. They love each other, and that love is not at all damaged by the conflict of falling for the same girl; it just becomes tense between them.

In fact, the beginning of the chapter has some Class B pals eagerly going backstage to find Ruka before the somatic ability class musical. When they find him, Natsume is the only one to not laugh at or tease him, and seems to be the only one really concerned with Ruka’s feelings about being cast as Snow White.

When the sticky ball incident occurs, there’s a lot more damage done than there is in the anime. In the anime, some cast and crew get stuck, but ultimately nobody was in any real danger of being hurt. In the manga, there were potentially catastrophic consequences for the blast and a lot of equipment got damaged in the process. A somatic child playing one of the seven dwarves is about to be hit by a stagelight when Natsume rushes to get him out of the way, resulting in them getting stuck together. If Natsume hadn’t stepped in, that kid could have gotten really injured, at least.

As a result of Natsume’s heroism, Narumi suggests that he dress up as a forest friend. When Natsume refuses, the child is to be kicked out of the play, and the seven dwarves will be changed to six. Natsume sees the kid pout and with absolutely no more need for convincing he goes to get changed into a cat outfit.

This is noteworthy because the cat outfit is humiliating (not that Natsume hasn’t worn similar things in official art… just saying) and it’s something he truly does not want to do, but he does it, even though he doesn’t even know the kid. It’s some random somatic kid, not Ruka or Youichi or even Mikan, and yet he goes out of his way to do something truly selfless so that the kid can perform what he’s practiced. Natsume is kind in quiet ways, and not just with the people he cares about. Like with Anna, Natsume puts the needs of someone he isn’t close to in front of his own reputation.

Now, Natsume is in a horrible mood, embarrassed to be seen in the costume, and Ruka is confused why he’d even bother, until he sees the smile on the little kid and everything snaps into place for him. Mikan is a very intuitive and emotional girl who can sense things about all sorts of people, but when it comes to Natsume, nobody knows him better than Ruka, who can tell right away the motives for any of his actions.

I work at a restaurant and kids Natsume's age will be like, "I don't want a kids' menu" and act all grown up and then see how big the adult portions are, so they end up eating the Cub Pancake anyway LMAO. Do you want extra whipped cream and chocolate chips, Natsume?

Onto the actual NatsuMikan portion of this analysis, at long last, Mikan is overjoyed to see how adorable he is in his costume and she is the only one who won’t hold back from saying so because she’s not scared of him. I’ve seen someone complaining that Natsume says “Don’t call men cute,” but I always found that line funny because Natsume is a literal ten-year-old boy… He is not a man at all. It’s the sort of thing you’d expect a kid to say, especially one who wants to be a grown-up as soon as possible, which makes the line endearing to me, but that’s my personal feelings about it. (Like the above caption, I find it very amusing when little kids pretend they're all grown up.)

Anyway, Natsume is as much an idiot as he is in the anime, volunteering Mikan to be the prince, even using one of his three wishes to make it happen. This is all motivated by his feelings of humiliation, and he’s taking it out on her, arguing that he doesn’t want to wear the outfit for no reason so the show has to go on no matter the cost--but this will bite him in the ass sooner rather than later.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The chapter begins and Mikan is very nervous about playing the prince, particularly about looking the part as she is very uncomfortable with her hair down.

This is actually the first time we see Natsume’s feelings about it, but he’ll only make it more clear in about ten more chapters. Here, Mikan wonders if she should put her hair back up and Natsume snaps, “No!” before walking away in a huff. It’s a small scene, and it’s even told through tiny text, but it’s enough to let any reader paying attention know that Natsume also thinks Mikan looks cute with her hair down. Yes, he’s embarrassed to have said anything, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t say it.

Don't worry about him, he's just in a bad mood.

Natsume mainly observes, and nothing noteworthy happens. He eventually goes and gives his line and his aura alone is threatening enough to discourage anyone from laughing or “aww”ing.

The next important moment is when Mikan sees the stage direction to kiss the princess directly on the lips. Narumi says it’s because he’s trying to make up for the loss of sizzle due to the accident, but knowing him, there’s probably more to it. Naru likes stirring the pot and causing drama, although I can hardly tell what his motives are half the time. Truly, I believe he is the most mysterious character in the whole story.

Natsume does not allow this to happen, so he throws something at Mikan’s head--some random box thing--and Hotaru shuts off the lights.

Natsume does something kind of selfish here. He didn’t want them to kiss, so he stopped it. The fact that he grabbed the first thing he saw meant it was a sudden choice to chuck it. I wonder if he had any intentions of just toughing it out and dealing with it, but eventually jealousy won out and he did the selfish thing.

When I say selfish, I don’t mean “bad”. I just mean that for once Natsume is acting based on what he wants, rather than what will make somebody else happy. When it comes to this kid in particular, I actually want him to do selfish things more often, because he very rarely does. He’s been selfless and heroic enough for one day, having saved a kid from getting injured and then wearing that embarrassing costume. He’s allowed to have done this one thing for selfish reasons.

It’s not like it was a bad thing to do either. It would have only benefited Narumi, and possibly the somatic class to have a spicy musical kiss, but it wouldn’t have been good for Ruka or Mikan. Having their first kiss under such conditions, especially when Mikan was just doing the class a favor by acting in the play to begin with, would have been sad. Natsume essentially saved her from the consequences of his own actions, because it would have been his fault if they’d had no choice but to go through with it.

Moreover, like I said earlier, Ruka can simply tell what Natsume’s motives are from a single look. It’s more obvious in the anime, of course, but I still think manga!Ruka is aware that Natsume intervened. He knows Natsume better than anybody, and he’s too smart to think that box came out of nowhere.

This is just the beginning of a long-standing tension between them, one that they will dance around and pretend isn’t happening for quite a while before actually addressing it properly. For now, they have undiscussed feelings and jealousies that will go unchecked and unresolved for some time, building an even deeper divide between them. After all, Natsume and Ruka have enough of a gap on account of Natsume’s missions and his general feelings of not being able to fit in with anybody. This only broadens the gap.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The dance will be very fun to analyze from Mikan’s perspective, but we’re not nearly finished with Natsume’s, so that will have to wait.

For now, we’ll discuss Natsume’s softening, which Permy points out bitterly on account of being surrounded by closet fans. Previously, she says, they were terrified of him, and why wouldn’t they be? We talked ad nauseam about Natsume’s first thirteen chapters of misery and coldness. He was a scary and unkind guy, definitely unapproachable. Even his admirers in Class B were scared of him, equal parts affection and terror. In a very short time, Natsume has softened and it’s obvious. He even dressed as a cat for the somatic musical! His reputation for being cold and dangerous is softening and the girls who used to fear him are now flocking to him to ask if he’s willing to accept their last dance proposals.

But with all this talk about romance and dancing, Mikan feels left out and can’t relate. Her frustrations only grow when some girls start gossiping about her and she ends up taking it out on Natsume, saying she would never ever wanna dance with Natsume for the last dance. He brushes this off, but he still pouts, obviously affected and a little hurt. Their relationship was on the rise, after all. They were starting to hang out more and were bickering often, something Natsume doesn’t make a habit of doing with most people. But just because Natsume is feeling more fondness for her, that doesn't mean she feels the same way.

He expects this in some way, of course, because it's partially his intention. He expects that she would only tolerate him after everything that happened with them, but that doesn't mean he likes the feeling of rejection.

They're so cute when they pout!

Having a crush is bad enough, but hearing that girl shout that she’d never wanna go out with you is even harder, even if you were maybe purposefully making her angry with you to try and protect her. It would be a tough emotion to bear, especially for a kid unversed in romance. He proceeds to be just as huffy as her.

And as twisted as it is, I’m happy for him.

Natsume was cold and mean and difficult to talk to before he fell for Mikan. Now he’s way more approachable and expressive, willing on occasion to show an emotion that isn’t rage, like hurt or grumpiness or amusement. He can now sit at his desk and pout, something he wasn’t doing before, like a kid throwing a fit.

At the actual dance, Natsume is still hurt, still pouting. It doesn’t help that Mikan glares at him upon spotting him. It’s interesting to see how much this affects him. One girl said something harsh in the heat of the moment and he is taking it so personally. Of course, he gets hurt or angered by many things. Upperclassmen bully him and call him a murderer and he simply uses his alice on them to shut them up. He keeps his face straight, moves on, and forgets it. Naturally, the hurt and resentment sit there in his gut to torment him, because he’s a kid and they’re awful things for anyone to hear, but he’s not acting like that here. Here, he’s grumpy and pouty. His feelings are hurt but they don’t come with urges to punish like being called a murderer does.

And it’s obvious he has no genuine hard feelings because Natsume then shoves Ruka onto Mikan, since Ruka was being transparent about his gaze. He goes on to dance with someone else, anyone else, because Mikan made it clear that she too would rather dance with anyone else, just as long as it wasn’t him. He’s clearly still in a bad mood, though.

He's so used to not getting what he wants that he will do all of Ruka's work for him, so that Ruka can get what he wants.

Later, when Mikan and Natsume are singletons in the middle of the dance floor, they notice each other. Here would be a perfect opportunity to dance, but she made it clear she hated the idea, and he’s not about to embarrass himself to ask. Hence, he huffs again, pouting because there’s no way he’ll ask her to dance once she’s said such harsh things. They stand in silence for just a moment, until he finds some other girl to dance with and leaves Mikan all alone.

They’re both grumpy over the way they’re being treated by the other. Natsume is being immature and petty with his feelings, almost childish (heehee it's all I want for him!). With all the dark and depressing divide between Mikan’s academy life of fun and laughs and Natsume’s life of secret missions and physical abuse, he’s somehow found a way to wedge himself into hers. He’s taking something so minor so seriously. He’s been on the front lines, used his alice to hurt enemies and been hurt by enemies and dangerous ability types alike. He is literally dying and he’s aware of it! But he’s still pouting because the girl he likes was a little mean to him.

But the dance with the girl obviously wasn’t much fun, because Mikan quickly finds him again, away from the party, along a secluded path by some trees. He’s in a pouty mood and obviously needs some time alone with his thoughts.

It shows that he’s done some thinking because he doesn’t even mention her angry words from earlier.

Instead, he just calls the whole festival stupid.

We’re reminded here of a scene from way before they liked each other, when the festival was first announced. Then, she also found him playing with a dog, all on his own, using anger to mask his feelings of hurt. He said the same thing back then, that the whole thing was stupid and it was dumb to get all worked up about it. He’s doing it again now, but it’s a little different this time. Their relationship has changed, improved. They actually care about each other now, and although Natsume starts off just talking through his anger, he eventually turns honest.

The truth is that these periods of childishness will always have to end. It’s just an extended version of the dodgeball game. No matter how much emotion he puts into these experiences, they will be overshadowed by his real life. Now matter how much fun he has, he will always have to stop smiling and go kill himself on Persona’s orders. And even more honestly, the more fun he has, the harder it will be on the people he has fun with. It’s not enough for the ESP and Persona that Natsume completes his missions and does all his work; they find pleasure and relief in his constant misery. The second he cares about something, they use it against him. His joy is never meant to last and will always have consequences for the people he loves.

I hate tumblr's 10 image limit. I hate it. I despise it. I abhor it. I cannot come up with a caption. So instead I'll say again. I hate the 10 image limit.

And so he explains, for once, that he’s simply different from everyone else. The festival is something that doesn’t belong to him. He’s merely been an observer this whole time. He’s never actually been a part of it. And then he tells her that she should stay in the light, stay out of the dark. He calls her naive, but it’s not as much an insult as it used to be.

She is childish and loud and optimistic and annoying and a little sweet and even though he hated all these things about her before, he now realizes that these traits are things to be protected. The more she mingles with him, the darker her life will be. After all, her light is not the only thing that’s contagious: his darkness rubs off on people too, and in his mind it will only hurt her to be involved with him. She should stay in the light--in the shiny, sparkly side of the manga, where everyone is concerned with sports and coming up with ideas for the festival--and keep out of the dark--where there’s murder and blackmail and danger and death. It’s bad enough he can’t keep Youichi or Ruka out of it: Youichi is already in the DA class and Ruka came running after him. He can’t distance himself from them. The most he can do is protect them and raise their star ranks or keep them off of dangerous missions. But with Mikan he has a chance to really protect her, prevent her from being used against him at all. Ideally, she’ll stay away and he won’t need to worry about her as much.

And he wants her to be safe and gone, so when she asks what he means, he changes tactics and decides to be rude and mean instead, telling her to get lost and insulting her. She gets angry and it almost seems like it’ll be another bickering match, where they will both be childish and hurl insults at each other, but he doesn’t take that path.

She is complaining about how he doesn’t seem to know that she has a name, thank you very much--and then he calls her Mikan. He concedes to her demands. He does what he perceives to be the mature, adult thing, ending the argument so she will leave for good. When she has nothing left to argue about, she will have no choice but to walk away, and she does, once he makes it clear that his last command is for her to stop complaining about what he calls her.

Natsume chooses to do the selfless thing again, and gives up the first thing in a long time that made him happy. He barely had any time with her at all, but he lets her go, because she can only continue to be sunny and cheerful away from him. He’s giving up before anyone can tell that something was around for him to give up.

He has no idea how much one word has affected her.

Conclusion

Natsume is a selfless kid. He gives up on what he wants very easily, but especially because he knows that the second he gets what he wants, those things could be destroyed, just by association with him. He just wants the people he loves to be happy, even if it means he could never be.

In the next segment, we'll talk about what Natsume is willing to do to protect Mikan, even if it means being cruel and hurting her. NatsuMikan is the living embodiment of the "break her heart to save her" trope, and I very much adore that trope with my whole heart, so we're going to be having a LOT of fun with the next essay!

Also, disclaimer: I'm not smart. I refuse to take responsibility for any mistakes I make in these essays. There also are no mistakes. I've never misspelled a word in my life.

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[fanfoolishness]

Fulminating (The Mandalorian)

(Din suffers a complication after nearly drowning on Trask. He and the Child recover together. Maybe it's enough. 5000 words, canon-compliant, angst, medical whump, hurt/comfort, sign language. Set during Chapter 11: The Heiress. Don't say I didn't warn you about the whump - but the comfort's there, too.)

Thank you to @lastwordbeforetheend, @art3mys and @honestlyhufflepuff for helping talk me through this! You can also find this story on AO3 if you prefer.

***

The air streams past him, tugging at the free edge of his cloak as he descends. He tilts his head upward, watching Bo-Katan and her cruiser climb to the edge of the atmosphere. They’ll take the ship, and he’ll take the Jedi’s name.

It’s not the deal he wanted -- hell, they aren’t the Mandalorians he wanted -- but she gave him what he needed in the end, and he’ll respect that.

He coughs, chest feeling heavy, and lowers his head as the air rushes past. That’s better.

He aches as the rush of the fight leaves him. He’s not getting any younger, and while firefights are what he’s built himself for, taking an entire cruiser hadn’t been on his agenda. Especially coming off the disastrous crash landing on the ice planet with the kid and the passenger; he’d hit his head pretty badly in the landing, beskar helmet or no, and he still feels a nagging headache now that the action’s over. He scowls under the helmet.

The Rising Phoenix burns clean as the docks rise up before him, and he lands clumsily, staggering. He’s got to work on that. In all the traveling lately, his training has slipped. Koska in particular has given him some ideas for how to better utilize the Phoenix in combat, and he’ll have to consider incorporating the techniques into his own fighting style.

Din pulls a deep breath as he straightens up, slightly winded by the landing. Time to collect the kid and get going.

Leaving would be a good idea, if not for the fact half the port is still quiet. He glances around, realizing it’s still early in the morning and the Mon Calamari he paid to tend to the Crest is nowhere in sight. Fine. Maybe he and the kid will grab some sleep in the inn. How long has it been since they got any rest?

His feet fall heavy on the wooden docks, his boots scuffing. Yeah. A room might do them good.

***

It takes him a good twenty minutes to make his way through the narrow alleys to the Frogs’ home. He’s a little slower than usual, though he’s got good reason to be weary. The door slides open at his knock and the happy couple greets him, gesturing to a water-filled dish on their table. A tadpole splashes back and forth, and Din’s foundling stares at it with wide eyes and half-opened mouth, barely noticing that Din has come for him.

Din almost hates to pull the kid away. He’s downright enchanted by the tadpole (the kid better have minded his manners!), curious and fascinated and protesting as Din scoops him up. He congratulates the couple on their child and heads out into the alley, the kid chattering away unintelligibly. He’s been using that little voice of his much more lately, and though Din hasn’t picked out any words he understands, it’s a comforting sound. He chuckles a bit at the kid’s chatter, the laugh slipping into a brief cough that he swallows down. He wishes, not for the first time, that he could understand what the kid has to say.

The kid’s voice burbles cheerfully in his ears. Probably telling him all about his exciting night, staying with the Frog family. Maybe he’s asking where Din has been, or wondering where they’re going next. Din hasn’t a clue. He tries to pay attention, but finds it strangely difficult to concentrate and walk at the same time.

It’s not far to the inn. Half a klick at most. He’s walking at a normal pace, not running, not sprinting.

So why, then, is he breathing so hard?

He pauses against the wall of a small fishery shop, leaning against it slightly in a way that would look casual to a passing observer. He takes a deep breath, then coughs wetly, chest rattling.

You’re fine, he tells himself firmly, but his chest rises and falls like he’s been running.

His helmet swivels left, right. Quarren, Mon Calamari, humans, they scurry past Din and the child, but more than a few turn to stare at the two of them. This is too open. He needs to get back under cover until he can figure out what’s going on. You are both predator and prey, intones the Armorer, and oh, he knows it. His gut clenches a warning.

The Phoenix roars on his back, carrying them the rest of the way. He holds on to the kid with both arms and the kid giggles, enjoying the ride, but Din just focuses on breathing.

***

The innkeeper stares at him. “One night, then?” he grunts.

Din reaches into his hip pouch, pulls a stack of credits out, more than what’s needed. He forces himself to slow his breathing, though his chest hurts with the effort. He swallows. Modulates his voice to sound gruff and intimidating. “One night. And no questions.”

The innkeeper nods, holding his hands out in an appeasing gesture. “Whatever you say, Mando.” He tosses Din a fob to unlock the room. “Up the stairs, third door on the left. Food sent up to the room’s extra.”

Din merely nods. The kid, nestled in the crook of his arm, looks up at him, frowning. His ears sag down to his collar, and he wraps one hand over Din’s wrist.

Din makes his way to the stairs, shoving past a few Quarren there for their breakfast. They grumble, but they get out of his way; news travels fast about what a Mandalorian can do when pressed. They clear a path for him as he approaches the narrow stairs. With his back to the barroom, no one able to see him directly, he allows himself the luxury of a few deep breaths before he begins. He needs every one.

The flight of stairs isn’t long. Fifteen steps, maybe. But he has to grab the handrail with his free hand, gripping it tightly. His head swims, and the inside of his chest sears, burns, aches. He sucks air through an open mouth, shivering.

“Dank farrik,” he hisses, and regrets the extra breath expended on the curse. He has to rest halfway up the stairs, slumping against the wall with his head spinning.

He makes it up the rest of the flight, through the hallway, to the third door on the left. It slides open and he stumbles through the doorway, barely noticing the door sliding closed behind him as he staggers to the lumpy four-poster bed. He sets the kid down carefully before he sinks onto the bed with a thump. He struggles to remove the Rising Phoenix. He manages to rest it on the floor at his feet, and stays leaning forward, curled up over himself.

What’s wrong with me?

He desperately tries to run the possibilities. Poison? No, no, nothing’s broken his skin, he hasn’t eaten since he left the ship.… He shivers again. Is he sick? This doesn’t feel like any sickness he’s ever known before, coming on so fast like this, hitting so hard…

He sits huddled on the edge of the bed, panting. His helmet’s sensors chime at him. Normally vital signs are measured in the background, but he forces himself to focus on the corner of the display through his visor, where it flashes a warning: Blood oxygen level below 90%.

Oxygen… lungs… going under the water after the kid, struggling as the seal on his helmet slipped, as the seawater rushed up over his face, into his mouth and nose --

But I was fine, he tries to tell himself. He tries to remember if he inhaled the water or if he spat it back out, but all he remembers is frantic choking, flailing, a confusing jumble of cold and weight and struggle. I was fine --

He coughs again, the action bowing him over himself, and he gags on fluid in the back of his throat. He retches, gulps, tastes something metallic. Blood.

Fuck. Fuck.

His mind races. Battlefield first aid is taught to all Mandalorians, but he doesn’t remember what he’s supposed to do here. What here even is. His mind blanks for a second, or an eternity.

He suddenly remembers a function of his helmet he’s rarely used. He toggles it on with a jerky swipe over his vambrace. He can’t carry an entire tank of oxygen with him, since it’d be a clear explosion hazard in his line of work, but the helmet does have emergency oxygen concentrator ability. Enough to double the atmospheric content for low-O2 planets. He breathes deeply of the fortified air, and for a moment he feels a little calmer. This’ll fix things. Just need a little more air, a little rest, I’ll be fine --

It’s not enough.

The display in his helmet says it’s concentrating the oxygen at maximal levels, but damn it, it’s not enough. He wheezes, straining.

The display says a lot of things now. It’s going fucking haywire, streaming readings for his heart rate, his oxygen, spiking or crashing in ways he’s never seen. He forces himself to focus on the room beyond him instead of the screeching vitals, tries to focus on fishnets lining the dingy walls, a cramped closet refresher, a little wooden table to sit at, a round window letting in muted daylight.

It’s not working. Din drags in breath after frantic breath, coughs again, feels something frothy in the back of this throat. He tastes metal. He’s -- he’s suffocating --

No. No. This is just a sickness, I just have to get through the worst of it, just breathe -- just breathe --

But he wants to tear his helmet off, he’s so hungry for air, he wants -- he needs --

Firm pressure on his lap, movement, something besides the flail of his chest. It’s the kid. He’s almost forgotten about him in his struggle, and seeing the kid calms him slightly. Just slightly.

He manages to lower his head, though it makes him dizzy. The kid’s dark eyes stare up at him, his little face scrunched up and worried.

“I’m fine,” Din gasps, though clammy sweat clings to him inside his suit, though his heart still races. Does the kid understand him? He coughs, the sound harsh and wracking. “I just need to -- rest --”

Rest. Yeah. Yeah, that should help. Maybe he’ll be better off laying down in a different position. Holding the kid against him, he tries to ease himself down on the rumpled bedding. But as soon he’s down, he realizes it’s wrong -- on his back, he feels his armor crushing him -- smothering him --

He jerks upright, clawing at his chest, undoing the catches of his armor. His cuirass loosens and falls to the bed beside him. He leaves it. The pressure eases, barely.

The kid in his lap lets out a wail, and Din realizes that the kid knows.

What if I don’t -- what if he’s alone -- if this gets worse -- His heart rate jumps at the unfinished thought, pounding until he can feel the veins in his neck throbbing, the pulse thready. He slumps against the post at the end of the bed, wrapping a hand protectively around the kid. No. I’ll be fine.

He has to be fine. For both of them. He wishes he could tell the kid --

***

Grogu feels, sees, senses ripples in the Force, just as he senses ripples in the water where a frog might be near. Most of the time, it comforts him, feeling its swirls and eddies.

It isn’t comforting now. It’s scary. The Force is disturbed, the ripples churning waves. His protector, his person clings to him, and Grogu feels fear panic wrong.

Grogu flinches, his stomach hurting. He doesn’t know what’s happened to the man, but there’s something in the man’s chest that isn’t right, something that shouldn’t be there, something that makes it not work the way it’s supposed to. Grogu tilts his head up and rests one hand against the man’s armor, whimpering.

The man is shaking. His voice catches. “It’s -- it’s all right,” he chokes, but Grogu can feel how hard he’s working to breathe, how his voice sounds different. It sounds wet.

Grogu whimpers again, tries to reach out in the Force. He has to help him! The man flickers in the Force in a way Grogu remembers once from a misty dream, the day he sent the fire back; he was so sleepy after the flames ran away. But the man feels like he did then, faint and far away, and this time, Grogu understands what it means. Faint and far away and fading.

Grogu tries to talk to the man. Tries to tell him that he can help. He makes his voice loud, but the man’s breathing is louder. It’s not working.

He gets to his feet in the man’s lap, hurriedly bracing his hands against the man’s laboring chest. This close he can hear the wrongness inside him even without the Force, his ears catching terrible crackles over the man’s pounding heart. It shouldn’t sound like that. He knows it in a way he doesn't have the words for.

The man is soft without the armor, but the cloth and leather he wears are still thick and hard to get through, under Grogu’s hands. Grogu tries to reach, tries to make the Force inside the man move and change. He’s done it before, he has to try now, has to try to help him --

But it’s hard to shift the Force inside the man. He’s still wrapped in most of his armor, no skin to touch. Maybe one of the Masters from long ago could fix the man without touching him, without pressing skin to skin, but Grogu doesn’t know how. He wraps his claws around the heavy vest the man wears under the armor, and he cries at him, trying to make him understand.

“Please --” the man rasps. “It’s -- don’t be afraid --” He coughs again, thin reddish fluid beading at the bottom of his helmet. Flickering -- far away --

Grogu sinks into the man’s lap, breathing hard himself. The man’s fear is overwhelming, making it hard for Grogu to think. He’s felt it before from him when things got scary, but always the man’s bravery was bigger, more powerful, so much brighter in the Force than his fear.

But it’s all that Grogu can feel from him now.

He has to do something. The man still flickers. He looks around wildly, sees the man’s hand, limply resting against the bottom of Grogu’s robe.

“Hey, buddy,” the man wheezes. “You’ll be -- okay --”

Grogu is already pulling at the man’s wrist. He’s seen a little flash of skin here before, where the glove meets the armor. He fumbles with it, but it’s on too tight for him to budge.

“What --”

Grogu pulls hard at the glove, and the man helps weakly with his other hand, his fingers clumsy. The glove slips down at the wrist, exposing light brown skin, a thumb. The man crumples against the post at the end of the bed, the line of him all wrong, head rolled to his shoulder. He’s so faint.

Grogu curls one hand around the man’s thumb, presses the other hand against his palm. The man’s skin is cool and sweaty and calloused. Grogu holds his hand as hard as he can, and he closes his eyes, and he reaches.

He can't make sense of what he feels through the Force. Water, but there shouldn’t be water here. Breathing, but the air doesn’t help. Grogu concentrates, but it’s hard. It’s not like when that other man’s arm was hurt in the dark by the creatures, when Grogu could reach out and feel the way the poison wasn’t supposed to be there, the way the arm wanted to be normal again. The Force flowed to the hurt part, and it made it like it was before.

But now he’s confused, the fear so loud and painful, making it harder for Grogu to understand the problem with the water and the air and the lungs. He clutches the man’s skin, claws digging into his strong hand. He tries to do what he can, tries to tell the man’s chest to be normal, to work, to help.

The Force shimmers. It flows, and something goes out of him, into the man.

But it’s not like before. The other man’s arm got better so quickly, the poison disappearing, the flesh coming back to itself. It doesn’t feel that way now; he’s not sure what it feels like. It feels… like something slow, like something calm and quiet, like something gentle.

Grogu lets go of the man’s hand, his mouth twisting. He knows he didn’t understand enough, didn’t get it quite right. He lets out a soft wail, sinking down into the man’s lap and staring dejectedly at his hands.

He hears a quiet, tired voice. Feels the man shift, feels his hand with the rolled-up glove brush against his cheek. Grogu looks up through sleepy eyes and sees the man’s helmet upright again, looking steadily at him.

“Kid?” A long, ragged breath. A hoarse voice. His shoulders rise and fall with big breaths, but not as fast as before.

The man pulls him closer, and Grogu’s ears swivel. The crackles are getting softer. Going away.

“Thanks, kid,” the man whispers.

Grogu gazes up at the man, and he manages a tired little smile. The man is getting brighter in the Force. No more flickering. And underneath the man’s fear, Grogu senses brave again.

***

Din isn’t sure how long he’s been sitting there, leaning against the post at the end of the bed, holding the sleeping kid in his lap. He only knows he’s been working, and it is work, at breathing.

In, and out.

In, and out.

His helmet display flashes numbers at him. They aren’t normal. Oxygen, heart rate, respirations. But hell, they’re so much better than they were.

He doesn’t know what the kid did. The bare skin of his hand tingles in the cool air, and he’s almost afraid to cover it up again, in case it reverses what the child did to him.

For him.

All he really remembers -- things are hazy, even though it was at most only a few hours back -- is the panic, darkness at the edges of his sight, a terrible, unending hunger for air.

And then something quiet and soft, gently washing over him. It was enough.

He coughs again, but it’s easier than before. The rattle’s faint, thin, clearing. He’s not a medical droid, but he’s sure of it anyway: he’s going to make it.

The kid yawns beside him, half-wrapped in Din’s ragged cloak. He squints up at Din, his expression wary. Worried.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, his throat raw. “Are you okay?”

The kid whines a little, his ears swinging low at the way Din’s voice sounds so rough. Din feels an ache that has nothing to do with his lungs and everything to do with the kid’s anxious face.

“Don’t worry. I’m gonna be fine,” Din manages. “You helped me. Saved me.” The words are hard to force out, but he knows they’re important. Hell. What the kid must have seen -- what he must have thought was going to happen -- He freezes, remembering a dark cellar, explosions, a day of red robes in the smoke.

No. That’s not gonna happen. Not to him.

Din cradles the kid into a hug, his ears brushing against Din’s chest and shoulder. The kid hugs him back as hard as he can with his small arms, and he can feel the child trembling.

“Hey, hey,” Din murmurs, though he’s getting winded with all the talking. “I’m sorry I --” He huffs, keeps going even though it’s difficult. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

The kid reaches up to rest one clawed hand against the cheek of the helmet. Din blinks, startled at the closeness, but the kid keeps his hand against the beskar. Din mirrors the gesture, resting the knuckles of one hand against the child’s soft cheek.

“We’ll be okay. You and me, pal. Understand?” he asks gently.

The kid blinks those large, dark eyes, and Din wonders if he’s failed to reach him. Then the child lowers his hands, letting out a cheerful babble with a tilt of his head, and the tension in Din’s chest and gut falls away.

Yeah. He’ll be okay.

The kid chirrups again, voice rising in a question. Din thinks he recognizes what the kid is asking. “You hungry?”

Food. He dimly remembers a few ration bars, tucked in at the back of his belt, swiped from the Crest before they’d left. He sets the kid down beside him, then pulls out two bars and unwraps them both for the kid. Din’s thirsty, after everything, but the idea of food holds no interest yet.

“Here,” Din rasps. “Eat.” He carefully straightens up, taking a moment to slowly swing his legs over the edge of the bed. What normally takes a second leaves him breathless.

He gets to his feet, using the bedpost for support. He’s still wearing boots, his armor aside from the cuirass. It’s all so much heavier than it should be. He lets out a hiss between his teeth and crosses the room to the refresher, one step at a time. Water.

Once inside the refresher he sinks down onto the seat, removing his helmet and setting it into his lap. He glances up and sees his face in the cracked, streaky mirror, the skin blotchy and pale, hair a matted tangle, eyes swollen. There’s residue on his face, dried pinkish red around his mouth and nose. The sight makes him run cold.

It had been so close.

He flicks the water on, strips off his gloves and sets them into his upturned helmet. He cups his hands together beneath the faucet, the cold water spilling over the edges of his palms.

He drinks, and it’s enough.

***

The ship awaits them. Unfortunately, it's barely better off than it was when they left it. The Razor Crest drips with Mon Calamari detritus, rope rigging and tangles of seaweed crisscrossing the ship's hold. Din shakes his head, stepping aboard with the kid in his arms. It’s not great. It’ll do to limp along to something better.

He allows himself a faint chuckle, putting himself in the same category.

He’s mostly recovered. He can still feel it, the way his lungs don’t fully expand the way they should, the way he gets a little winded when he’s up and walking around. But he’s so much better than he was, and getting better every day. Thanks to the kid, and his powers.

He glances down at him; he seems fascinated by the Crest’s new decorations. Din brushes a hand over the back of the kid’s head and the little one coos, reaching out to bat at a clump of seaweed.

“You like this, huh?” he asks. “Don’t get used to it.” Soon as I’m up to it, this stuff’s getting spaced.

The kid giggles at the slimy seaweed in his hands, and Din softens. Maybe he’ll leave it up for a little bit, anyway.

He carefully takes the ladder up into the cockpit, only huffing a little. He’s grateful for the way he takes oxygen in, the way it sustains. He finally turned off the oxygen concentration function of his helmet this morning, and he hasn’t missed it. It’s a good feeling, one that’s been growing as he’s gotten closer to recovery.

He doesn’t remember much of the past few days. He remembers the Quarren innkeeper hollering outside about their time being up, until Din lurched to his feet and shoved a pile of credits at him through the crack in the door. He remembers the innkeeper, mollified, bringing up bowls of steaming soup and leaving them out in the hall for Din to slowly bring inside, one at a time. He remembers how good it tasted, rich and briny and hot, hot, hot. He remembers sighing so loudly the kid’s ears twitched, and the kid let out the longest, tiniest, happiest sigh Din had ever heard.

***

He remembers a realization.

He had found it hard to talk on the second day, between the lingering heaviness in his chest and the bone-deep exhaustion. The kid, though, had seemed to bounce right back after using his powers, and had taken to relentlessly exploring the room for things to do.

Din watched him roam, crawling under the bed, playing with the empty drawers of the dinged-up dresser, trying to climb up the wall to see out the window. The kid was gonna hurt himself if he wasn’t careful, and Din couldn’t afford another scare. He reached out and planted the kid on his lap the next time his circuit around the room brought him close.

Inspiration struck. So it was hard to speak. So what? He had options.

He held up a finger. The kid watched keenly.

Look here, he signed in Tusken, fingers splitting and then rising up to his visor. The kid tilted his head, focusing.

We can talk like this. A wide sweep, a hand raised up near the mouth, palms spreading wide. Din waited. The kid had seen him use Tusken before, but for some reason, Din had never tried it with the kid. He’d always seemed to understand Basic well enough for how young he seemed to be, but he’d never spoken a word of it that Din could make out. He wondered why he hadn’t tried this earlier.

Do you understand? Din asked, hands flattening, circling, ending with a soft point of the index finger. He asked it a few times, varying the speed and size of the question, trying to see if the child understood.

The kid’s ears quivered, as if trying to catch something far in the distance. He held out his small three-fingered hands, and tried a clumsy sign for you.

Din leaned forward, hitching a sharp breath at the effort. Do you understand me?

The kid signed you again. Tried it a few times, the word smoothing out the more he tried, getting clearer.

Good job. It was hard to say if the kid really got it, or if he thought it was just a game. But it was promising to see his ears perking up, his dark eyes wide and interested, his mouth in a toothy, tiny grin.

Din smiled beneath his helmet. If this worked, they might be able to understand each other a lot better. The kid could ask him for help. Din could make it clear what was off limits and not to be bothered with. It was heartening as hell, a bright spot glimmering in the midst of some of the shittiest days he’d had in years.

And then a name swam into his head, causing his hands to drop, slowly, back into his lap.

Ahsoka Tano.

It wasn’t going to matter soon if the kid learned Tusken or Basic. He’d be back with the Jedi.

And Din would be alone, again.

His hands, trembling, spoke for him. Fingers flashed much too quickly for a beginner to learn; phrases scaffolded in front of him, words in motion, hands unfolding with meaning he knew the kid couldn’t hope to guess. The little one gazed up at him.

Thank you for saving my life --

I promise I’ll help you, no matter what --

I’m really going to miss you, kid --

Din’s eyes stung. He blinked once, twice, and stilled his hands. He’d said too much. The kid reached out and held onto his palms, his hands weighing almost nothing at all against Din’s own.

Din swallowed, looking into those trusting eyes. “Okay, kid,” he said hoarsely. “Come on. Let’s try again.”

***

Din shakes the memory off. He knows what he has been quested to do, that Mandalorians keep their word. He’s promised to find the place the kid belongs, and he would rather die -- nearly did -- than leave that promise unfulfilled.

The door to the cockpit slides open, and Din groans. The Mon Calamari’s handiwork is even more ridiculous here than in the rest of the ship. A dangling fishnet slaps him in the helmet, and he shoves it aside irritably as he buckles the kid into his favorite seat. Even through the helmet, the whole place stinks of brine.

“Mon Calarami,” he grumbles. “Unbelievable.”

He powers up the ship, starts easing it into the atmosphere. The ship shakes beneath him, clearly wounded. He can tell by the feel and the instrumentation that the ship should hold together for travel… barely.

A strange noise catches his attention, and he reaches out, grabbing some kind of sea creature that looks like it was about to pounce on the kid. The child burbles with delight and Din shakes his head. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. He squeezes until he’s sure the creature’s dead, then hands it to the kid for a snack. It’s not as hideous as some of the things he’s seen him eat, anyway.

“I finally know where I’m taking you,” Din tells him. “But it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

The starfield opens up before them. He takes a deep breath -- hold together, now -- and punches it to hyperspace. The stars ribbon past them, and Din leans back in his seat, relieved. It’ll be enough to get somewhere safe. Before they find the Jedi.

The ship vibrates around them, and Din makes a running list in his head of things he needs to check, wiring that needs to be redone, processes to recalibrate, repairs that need to be made, Mon Calamari detritus that needs to be jettisoned. He could start work on it now. Get it done. It'd be the efficient thing to do.

Instead, Din turns to the kid. “Hey. You wanna practice what we learned?” His hands flash before him as he speaks, tracing out the sentence structure in Tusken. “You can do it.”

He knows he doesn’t need to bother. He can speak again without losing his breath, and what’s more, he knows the kid will leave him soon. He knows it’s not enough time to teach proficiency, that it probably won’t make a difference for the kid in the long run.

But the kid likes it, and Din does, too. Maybe that’s enough.

The kid stares at him intently, moves his small hands in little circles, makes a fist. He grins, clearly pleased with himself.

Din laughs, hands shifting in affirmation, echoing the kid’s words. “That’s right, kid.”

The kid’s hands sign again, repeating the phrase Din had gone on to teach him, the signs clumsy but clear.

You. And me.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Feeling Special

Tamaki Amajiki x Reader

Warning: fluff, pg-13

A/N: commission for @marvels-biggest-ho​

Summary:  You show up to help Mirio terrorize Class -1A during training and your long time crush, Tamaki, is there.

The first year training gym had an air of playful tension as you walked in. Mr. Aizawa thought it would do the younger students some good to have an older student drop in and show them the ropes but you had a feeling your quirk was the real reason the teacher wanted you around. Your quirk was Acquire ; the ability to gain another person's quirk for a limited amount of time, depending on how long you touched them. They would still have their quirk but you were able to use it as well - it worked out most times but you usually avoided touching someone with a more complicated quirk. There was one time you accidentally touched Mirio Togata and ended up falling a floor below your dorm. Luckily, you only came into contact with him for a few seconds. Usually you wore gloves but as you walked into the large training gymnasium, your hands were bare.

“Oh, look who's here!” 

The greeting came from Nejire Hado and you smiled, noticing the two other members of the  Big Three. The trio stood in front of class 1-A. You eyed the slouched over Tamaki Amajiki; he glanced at you for a split second before turning away nervously. Smiling, you nodded to Mirio. 

“Mr. Awzia sent for me,” you explained, turning to the group. “He said something about showing you kids a good time.”

“That’s what I was about to do,” Mirio gleamed, hands folded against his chest. “I challenged them all to a fight.”

You laughed, sneaking a peek at Tamaki. “Amajiki, will you be joining the fight?”

The young man seized up, shaking his head no without looking at you. “Fair enough, we don’t want to rough the kids up too much. We all know you’re the strongest here.”

Mirio grinned at you, giving a little wink as he focused on the first years. You half listened as he went on about kicking their asses, eyes zeroing on Tamaki, who was making his way to the sidelines. He looked so cute in the UA jumpsuit, his ears poking out from his hair; it seemed obvious to everyone but him that you adored the soon to be pro-hero. You had been in the same class as the Big Three since year one, made friends right away with Mirio and his best friend, the quiet Tamaki. The nervous, socially awkward boy - who you had developed feelings for over time. 

“Y/N.” Mirio was calling out to you, as he rushed towards Class -1-A, a carefree glance plastered on his face. “You joining or not?”

“Hell yes,” you shouted back, rushing towards your friend. Watching as Mirio went head to head with the boy he called Problem Child, you wanted to throw some of the younger students off guard. Jogging over to the group, who were distracted by Mirio, you touched the shoulder of a girl with horns and pink skin. 

“He’s going to be the number one hero one day,” you boasted. She jumped back just as Mirio disappeared and reappeared behind the group. You smiled when the girl used her quirk to throw corrosive liquid, acid, in your direction. Mimicking her moves, her face drew up in horror. 

“You stole my quirk!”

The students that weren’t fighting Mirio off, turned to you in horror. Holding your palm out, acid flew up and you grinned. “I’d never steal someone’s quirk but I can acquire it for a bit. Of course, you still have access to your quirk but so do I….at least for a little bit or until I touch someone else.”

The girl relaxed and scratched the back of her head. “Sorry, I freaked for a second.”

“Do me next!”

A slender blond boy stepped up, an odd looking belt around his navel. “Let’s see if you can control my quirk.”

He winked at you and you looked to Mirio; he was way too busy wrecking students left to right. Figuring he had it, you shrugged and beckoned the boy over, he strutted over to you and posed. Laughing, you touched his shoulder for a few seconds. Feeling a wave of energy wash over your body, you looked over your shoulder to where Tamaki stood. He wasn’t staring at the wall as per usual, instead he was focused on you. 

Unable to control the butterflies in your stomach, your body tensed up and before you could regain control, a sparkly laser beam shot from your navel. The sudden jolts and power sent you flying backwards, thrusting you into the air. You shouted in pain as your body flew to the ground, but when you expected the pain of the concrete floor to hit you, it didn’t. Instead, two large tentacles wrapped around your waist, your body collapsing against someone as they slammed against the wall, sliding down to the ground with you in their embrace.

Out of breath, you laid still for a minute, trying to catch your breath. That kid’s quirk was powerful and it was painful too, you definitely felt bad for him. Breath slowing down to a normal state, you felt the tentacles retract, replaced by a strong pair of arms.

“Are - are you okay?”

A sweet whisper danced against your ears and you realized in a heartbeat, who had caught you; sweet, quiet Tamaki. His body was warm against yours and you could feel the heat rising from your toes. 

“I feel dizzy, I might puke,” you admitted, sitting up. His knees were bent up and your body was right up against his chest. Embarrassed, you crawled off him, He stumbled to his feet, turning to face the wall.

“I -  sorry…” Tamaki stammered over his words and you quickly got up, forgetting about being nauseous. His head moved forward but before his forehead could touch the wall, your hand slipped right in between. His eyes widened at the feel of your palm against his forehead and you smiled at him. 

“Don’t hurt your head, Tamaki. It’s too cute.”

A burst of bravery flashed across his face as he looked at you but before he could say a word, your body gave out.

….

The room was quiet as your eyes fluttered open; you were in your dorm, in bed. Feeling better, you sat up and saw Tamaki sleeping on the floor. Heat slapped your face as you realized someone of the opposite sex was in your room. Looking to the clock on the wall, you saw that it was past midnight - okay, that definitely wasn’t allowed. Unable to move, you studied the young man’s face and smiled at the way his indigo colored hair swept over his forehead. 

He was a snorer but it was endearing. 

Noticing he had no blanket, just a pillow tucked under his head, you reached over for an extra one at the end of the bed and was surprised to see tentacles forming from your hands. Startled, you held back a shout, remembering that you had touched Tamaki earlier. 

“This is crazy,” you whispered, chuckling as you grabbed the blanket and reached over to cover Tamaki without having to leave the bed. The tentacles weren’t as long as his but they were a little hard to control. It was evident when you accidentally smacked Tamaki in the face as you pulled away; holding your breath, you watched as he stirred but didn’t wake. Slowly, you crept off the bed and moved around him to get to the full length mirror next to the closet. 

When you saw yourself, you nearly died of laughter - you looked ridiculous and not as intimidating as Tamaki when he was in this form. He looked badass in his hero suit, like a knight in shining armor - you on the other hand, looked like a sea creature. 

“Oh, god.”

A low painful voice came from behind you, it was Tamaki, standing near your bed. He was still wearing the UA training suit, as were you. He looked embarrassed and upset as he rushed to the door but you were faster, looping a tentacle around his waist. Using all your strength, you held him in place as his hand came over the doorknob.

“Please don’t leave me,” you begged. “I don’t know how long your quirk will last, I could just go touch someone else but everyone’s asleep.”

You relaxed, letting him go when his hand fell from the doorknob. “I - I carried you to the nurses office and then to your room. I -I held you for too long, I don’t know when my quirk will leave you.”

He continued to face the door but didn’t leave. Walking over to him, you felt a strike of bravery - you had adored him for years now, watched him with soft eyes and love in your heart. It bloomed over the years, when others would not take the chance to get to know him.  Scolded him for looking down on himself and cheered the loudest in his corner, even though you never thought you would have a chance with him. It didn’t matter, being in his corner was enough but now as he stood in your room, you wanted more.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with my quirk,” he muttered miserably.

Rolling your eyes, you stepped up to him. His back was hunched over but his entire body hardened when you wrapped both tentacles around his waist, pressing your face into the fabric of his uniform. You could feel his nerves rattling as you took a deep  breath.

“I’m glad I was given a chance to experience the power you have, Tamaki,” you whispered, tilting your head to the side. Your cheek felt warm against his back as you stared at the mirror, watching his reflection carefully. His face was surprisingly calm, opposed to the tension you felt in the rest of his body. 

“W-why?”

The question made you smile and you held him tighter. “It makes me feel closer to you, Tamaki and...and that’s all I ever wanted. Are you that oblivious?”

Terrified of his reaction, you looked away from the mirror and buried your face into his face, clinging to him. Tentacles trembled, waiting for his response to your confession. What if he did not feel the same way? He never showed interest, why would you think he would have feelings for you? You were questioning the moment, wishing it was a fever dream from using too many quirks in one day.

Yes, that’s it, you thought, holding back the tears. He’s not really here, this is a dream and when you wake up, you will be back with Mirio. Back at the gym, kicking 1-A’s collective butt. 

Yeah, that’s it. 

“Mirio- he...he’s always making comments,” Tamaki whispered, forehead against the door.  “Stupid little comments that I know could never be true, because why - why would you like someone like me.”

Your head pulled away from his back and you stared at the back of his head, focused on the nape of his neck. “Because, you’re special, Tamaki. I wish you could see what Mirio and I see, what everyone sees. You’re amazing and I have always wished to be someone you could look in the eye. I want you to look me in the eye, so I can feel special too.”

Tears fell from your face as the tentacles retracted, forming back into your own arms. They started to fall from Tamaki’s waist as he carefully turned around, face hung low. Your heart pounded as he stood straight and finally, after so long, looked you in the eyes. His face was nervous but soft, fingers trembling as they reached for yours. His skin warm and soft as he held your hand, squeezing his palm against yours. His usually frown turned into a quiet smile and you knew then, that you were in love.

“You’re special to me,” he whispered and you beamed, throwing your arms around his neck. Without hesitation, he pulled you close and embraced you. His chin rested on your shoulders as you kissed him gently on the cheek. His face turned red so quickly it made you laugh. Kissing him again, you moved away and touched the side of his face.

“Will you stay with me a bit longer?”

Leaning into your hand, he nodded. “Okay.”

His heart leaped as you led him to the bed, motioning for him to lay down first. He did and watched as you took the space up next to him, your head resting on his shoulder as he pulled your blanket over the two of you. You inhaled deeply, placing your hand on his chest, smiling when he cupped it with his own. The room was quiet as the two of you laid together, the feeling in the air was something new and sweet, and as your eyes began to grow heavy, you said his name.

“Y-Yeah?”

Dipping your head back, you stared up at him. “How did you get into my dorm after hours? I’m sure the administration wouldn’t have allowed it.”

Tamaki’s eyebrows furrowed and he moved his hand over his face. “Mirio and Nejire helped me sneak in.”

Laughing, you drew his hand from his face and grinned. “My sweet, sneaky Tamaki.”

He chuckled nervously and when his eyes met yours, soft and relaxed, you knew what it felt like to feel special.

[jarofstyles]

Fan Club IV

A/N: This part 👀 I can’t lie, it’s very hot and smutty. Y’all did ask for filth though so, be warned. It’s the catalyst to essentially the rest of the story. This of course, as all our stories are, is all fiction, so, sit back and enjoy! ✨✨✨ - n + d

send feedback and requests here

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut, filth!, exhibitionism, DIRTY talk, degradation!kink, messy 👀, angst

word count: 16k

When Jeff texted Y/N about an event that she was meant to attend with Harry at the club she got slightly nervous. One, because she knew there would be loads of paps, two because it was a club night with Harry, three because drunk Y/N was something else. 

The outfit was already selected, Y/N had picked out something she knew would wow both Harry and everyone else at the club. She figured since most girls Harry had on his arm were beautiful in the model way, Y/N would show off what it meant to be beautiful in another way. The dress showed off every single curve she had, accented her waist and brought attention to her assets with grace. It was a light pink silky dress and it fit like a glove. Y/N has spent the night before and day of preparing. Showering,  moisturizing, doing her hair and makeup to make sure it was absolutely perfect. She sprayed herself with her perfume and checked herself out in the mirror one more time. She looked impeccable if she did say so herself. 

Harry hadn’t been sure about what the night would bring. Things with Y/N had been alright. Sometimes he would be a little cold but it was mainly after she would turn him on, and he had to kill the mood ASAP. Because if he didn’t? He may do something he regretted. 

Tonight she was going to go home with him. Jeff had chartered a car for them, so he had gotten driven to pick up Y/N as well, they’d never had a sleepover before. He wasn’t sure what that would bring either. How far his self control could stretch. Harry liked to think he could be good with it. But with the possibility of Y/N now knowing his weakness, his lowered inhibitions, and close quarters would be so difficult for him. He felt a little nervous pulling up to her place, popping a piece of gum in his mouth. Jeff had said they needed to be a bit more obvious about their relationship now, and Harry needed a few drinks in him to really let go. To her it would be acting. To him? It was living out a fantasy with an excuse afterwards. However when Y/N had crawled into the car, his throat went dry. No. No fucking way— he was gong. To die. The silk of the dress clinging to every inch of her, her lips glossy and a deeper color. He was going into overdrive in his mind.

“Hiya!” Y/N giggled as she hopped into the car. She knew. Of course she knew the outfit she was wearing was going to push the envelope, it would make Harry act a certain way and inevitably help her find out how he actually felt about her. Y/N wanted to know for a fact if she was making up the sexual tension between them because Harry really was just flirty. Fucking libra placements. Jeff had instructed the two of them to drink tonight, let loose and just have fun. That worried Y/N a tad bit because well, when she was drunk she had no filter. For the sake of the club night and people watching them it would be great, for them alone tonight? She wasn’t so sure. From what she knew about drunk Harry? Well, he’d be all over her too. But drunk Harry really just clung on to anyone around him. 

During the week Harry and Y/N had seen each other a few times in the morning at the bakery, did their usual routine and well, Harry truly would have eaten his body weight in lemon bars by the end of it all. More fans were coming into the bakery, expecting to see him. They were actually surprisingly really nice to Y/N and gave her compliments and told her that she was doing a great job. Y/N was told not to confirm or deny to make things seem more natural, but still let them know that it was in fact true.

Harry had to reconnect his brain to his mouth because half of him was dying at the moment. The bottom half. His brain was fuzz. How did a girl look this good? How? And of course. It was the one person he shouldn’t be having at all. But his body gave not a single fuck, and his heart too, apparently. 

“Hi...” He said after clearing his throat. “You look.... uh, good.” Fit. Sexy. The dress clinging to the curves that had his mouth watering and the fact he knew they’d be dancing tonight and she would feel if he was hard which... he couldn’t kid himself and say there wasn’t a high possibility. It was scary. There was more than just sexual frustration too, for example, how Harry did actually like her, but he was too afraid to get hurt. How he wanted to hold her hand and always, always wanted to be touching her all the damn time. He knew after a few drinks he could be needy, clingy. Would Y/N be okay with it? Their mornings at the bakery had resulted in some cheek kisses and hugs longer than needed but, he hadn’t been very touching before.

“thanks babe.” Y/N smiled, “you look nice as usual.” She added as she buckled up. They talked more often now, things were less awkward during car rides and frankly she had a feeling Harry was only quiet because he was overwhelmed by how she looked. The drive was a short one, seeing as they were relatively close to central by car. It would be quick to get to the club they were meant to be at and Y/N knew that the second they stepped out of this car they’d be all over each other. 

As they arrived, paparazzi stood waiting for them, having expected this event. Jeff has planned tonight to be the official announcement of their relationship. They had been photographed for four months now and well, people were eating it up.

“Alright.. I know that the paparazzi are a lot sometimes so just don’t let go of my hand and I’ll make sure you’re good. Yeah?”’ The memories of her panic attack made him so sad. So worried. Harry didn’t want that to happen again but if it did, at least now he knew how to deal with them. Half of him was giddy with excitement though. Getting to be touchy with her, getting to hold her close and be coupley? He was very much wanting that. Either it would help him get it out of his system or it would fuck him over. Either way, he would be touching her. 

Harry got out first, holding her hand as he helped her down. He was feeling extra protective but this time they stood back. Still shouting things but he squeezed her slender hand in his and helped her towards the door. It really was show time. 

Y/N appreciated how worried Harry was, nodding at him as he spoke and giving his hand a squeeze. Stepping out of the car, she was thankful that this time the paps actually had barriers they couldn’t cross. It took a lot of the anxiety away and well, she just stayed close to Harry and walked inside feeling like she really had accomplished something. The person working the door took her jacket, exposing her and all her beauty to everyone at the event. The silk of her dress made sure she felt the warmth of Harry’s touch even more so than usual, a smile spreading across her face as she looked up at him. 

Harry wrapped an arm around her waist, “we’ll go find Jeff first, okay? If you get uncomfortable just let me know. I know we’re gonna be a bit much but I don’t want to overstep boundaries.” It was whispered to her.

Y/N’s face softened, noticing his worry yet again. “It’s fine, really. I don’t mind.” Y/N spoke softly back to him, “I trust you.” She really did. Harry was always extremely respectful and she knew that he was asking because he wanted to make sure. Despite them being together for, what? four months now, and the fact that this was a normal occurrence, she was happy to know he respected her the way he did.

Harry felt relief when she said she trusted him because honestly, her opinion did mean a lot to him. Even if he didn’t want to let himself accept it— she was important to him already. He wanted her to feel safe with him, always. 

“That’s good.” He smiled down at her. Y/N looked so good and he was going to have a good time playing it up tonight. Especially because he was going to be able to drink and say whatever because it was ‘acting’ to Y/N and she didn’t know he meant probably everything she was going to hear. He escorted her to the bar, settling behind her as he wrapped one arm around her waist and the other rested on her tummy. She has this little tummy that Harry found incredibly enticing. He wasn’t sure why but he loved it. Always wanted to touch and kiss on it when he thought more and more of it. 

“What do you want to drink, baby?” Harry spoke against her ear as the music was. A little loud. But his lips were close to her ear, making it feel a little more intimate.

Baby. God he really was starting off strong. Y/N couldn’t say she didn’t feel a little insecure as he put his hand on her tummy, always being cautious of it whenever she was wearing tight clothes. She knew it was actually normal and most girls had one, but something about being Harry Styles’ girlfriend made her feel like she shouldn’t have one. At least that’s what the media made her feel like. 

“Vodka cranberry, make it a double” She told him, giving him a little smirk. “I can handle alcohol.” Y/N teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek just because she wanted to. She couldn’t resist. Plus, she was playing it up for all the workers too. Her kiss left a mark on Harry’s cheek and Y/N giggled a bit, “it looks cute, but here...” she said and gently wiped it off his cheek so that it wouldn’t be viable in the photos they were most likely set to take. It was an event after all. She wasn’t sure what it was for but Jeff would let them know as soon as they found him.

Ordering the drinks, Harry took her hand and laced it with his, pulling her back against him and swayed them a little bit. She obviously was caught off guard but the giggle was confirmation that she was okay with it, him humming the song in her ear while the bartender made their drinks. 

“My girl can handle the drinks? I’d like to see that.” He teased. “Probably can drink me under that table, yeah? And sound well sexy doing it.” Oop. Admission of her voice being ‘sexy’ when she spoke it was accidental but he wasn’t going to take it back. It was. But now she had far more ammo against him. Y/N was obviously planning on doing just that, her evil little smirk up at him making him pout. “Oi, don’t tease me with it.” Harry whined. “I’m being nice tonight. Don’t be mean to me.” Irony, a little, but mostly because he didn’t want to be hard yet.

If only Harry knew how long Y/N had been waiting to hear him say things like that to her. If she hadn’t thought about it a thousand times before she’d definitely been thinking about it a thousand times more. Her heart was swelling, feeling extremely giddy just doing all these things with Harry. They were just talking and swaying. Tonight was going to be a long night. 

“Sexy hmm?” Y/N smirked, “are you being nice tonight?” She asked knowing full well that was false. Harry loved teasing, he teased his fans like crazy so surely he’d tease her even more. “You play nice and I’ll play nice. Is that a deal?” God, she wanted him to destroy her. That look in his eyes, she could already feel the tingles. When their drinks were ready Y/N said a small thank you to the bartender, taking her drink in her hand and looking at Harry with his. “Cheers, to playing nice.” She smiled at him, knowing that it was officially game on from here on out.

It was then Harry knew that they both were in for it, because he was going to give in to his wants of touching her and she was seemingly all for it which was equally as dangerous. Getting to be this way was going to make it so he would push past things he probably shouldn’t. He toasted with her, taking his drink and sipping all the while watching her over the glass. Y/N was a minx. A little flirty minx who was going to make him lose his mind. They had to go find Jeff, so he took her hand again and spun her so she was facing the right direction. 

“Let’s go find the boss.” 

They walked closely, Harry's arm back around Y/N’s waist as he held her to his body. She felt good pressed up against him. He loved it, if he was being honest. Wanted to feel her front pressed up against him so he could feel her tits. He needed a good feel by the end of the night. Needed it.

Y/N liked this. She liked this a lot. She swayed her hips a bit more now, wanting Harry to feel what they were capable of. It was like she had this new power in her that she didn’t have before, all because of Harry. The whole acting thing was definitely helping as well, she could just play this character and exaggerated version of herself and get away with it. Harry seemed to be loving it a little bit too much for his own liking, she could sense it. 

Jeff and Glenne were stood over in the vip section, chatting with a few other celebrity guests. Y/N forgot that that was also a thing. In her mind Harry wasn’t a celebrity, he had never been. He was just her idol that was hard to reach, the concept of him being a celebrity himself always weirder her out. Like whenever other people mentioned him she always forgot that they knew who he was. All eyes were on them. Literally everyone. Y/N kept herself calm and confident, acting as if she wasn’t phased by it at all though she was internally freaking out. 

“Hi!” Y/N smiled as she gave Jeff and Glenne a hug, “you guys look great!” The gang was together again.

“About time you showed up!” Jeff punched Harry lightly in the arm. He could sense something was changing. Harry held on a bit tighter to her, and wasn’t consciously doing it. 

“Oi, watch it. We just got some drinks. You know, little thing has Russian blood. Isn’t that right, Kiska?” Harry had googled a pet name’s in Russian and she was definitely a kitten, kiska, if you will. Coy and sly and utterly adorable, a little clumsy all in one. Pure and evil all the same. He could tell the Russian name caught her off guard. Oh, he was going to pay for that. She returned to his arms, and he decided to sit her on the bar stool and stand between her legs. For right now, this was good. He’d have a hand on her and look intimate while they talked.

Y/N looked at him with a shocked expression, raising her brow and giving him a look which said he would pay for that. He went home and looked it up, just to play with her emotions? Of course he did. The bastard. She took another sip of her drink and rolled her eyes, “Mister, just had to be fashionably late.” She told Jeff from her seat on the bar stool. 

She was still quite tall in these shoes, probably the same height she would be if she was standing up. Harry felt more comfortable like this, clearly liking having power over her. They would see about that. “Хотел меня удивить?” Y/N spoke, setting her hand on his chest before picking up his cross necklace. “I said, you wanted to surprise me?”  She smirked, looking him in the eyes. Two could play this game. The night just started and they were already pushing each other to the limit. They barely had any drinks in them but boy were they touchy feely. As a new couple should be. Y/N was positive that people were more shocked at the fact that Harry was showing any type of affection publicly. It was something he simply didn’t do.

It really wasn’t. Harry was the type to keep it private. But he liked being open and free with her. Even if it wasn’t ‘real’ as some would say— it sure as hell felt like it. He was thoroughly enjoying every bit, and it was translating well to people watching. He was positive that people were going to take photos, but he didn’t care. That was the point. Her leg catching over the back of his though, rubbing the back of his calf with her foot? She was giving it right back to him. And then the speaking in Russian, the one thing that really got him. 

“Da, Kiska.” Yes, Kitten. Harry grinned, liking her way of playing back with him. The drink in his hand was gone, so he called for another one. He was going to drink and use that as an excuse even though he was sober at the moment. Yep.

Y/N was pulling all the stops, assuming that nothing would actually come of it but she couldn’t have been more wrong. The leg move was something she figured would give her the upper hand, clearly showing everyone that he was her territory. Maybe they were doing too much? But she didn’t really care, she only cared about what he thought. 

“Осторожно.” Careful. She warned, knowing there was no translation needed. The tone and the word itself implied being careful, especially because he was playing with fire and he knew it. Y/N too had finished her drink, knowing Harry was about to go and get more. “Go, I’ll wait with Jeff.” She told him, wanting nothing more than to peck his lips in that moment but she couldn’t. 

The look Jeff had on his face said it all, a laugh coming from him. He and Glenne were in the same position she and Harry were just in, but they were a bit less.... horny. Y/N blushed, shaking her head a little because she knew they were coming off strong but she wasn’t acting. She never was acting with him.

Harry grumbled as she sent him off to get drinks. He was having fun with her. They worked very well with their chemistry and he felt utterly enamored with her. After a few drinks it was going to get worse. Would he basically dry fuck her against the bar? Perhaps. He felt like he could right now if given the go ahead. He got her a double shot and made his the same as well, going back to the table. They were all laughing about something and she hadn’t paid him much attention, taking the glass and spreading her legs a bit again so he could stand there. Honestly! A good response for when he came over. 

“I got you the same.” He spoke to her, voice a bit darker. “There are some people with their cells out taking photos too. I figured you knew though.” She was so good, learning to catch on quite easily. They could both feel cameras on them. Surely they’d make a pretty penny selling them or something. But after he finished that drink, he felt a slight buzz kick in. That made him more comfortable, holding on her waist and listening to her conversation. Wanting some of the attention back.

Y/N decided she’d play the game a bit more, making him work a bit to get the attention that she had been so good at giving him. Now that she knew her strengths she would play on them, forcing Harry to push harder than he was. She wanted to know what he wanted from her. The cool feeling of the glass between her legs and Harry’s looming figure sent a shock straight to her crotch, the slightly annoyed look in his eye making her smile smugly. 

“Thank you, ziya.” She cooed, knowing if he had searched for Russian pet names he would have found ‘bunny’ too. “Are saying you want to give them a show then?” Y/N teased as she wrapped her lips around the straw of his drink and took a sip. It wasn’t meant to be as sexual as it ended up being, she kept eye contact but cut it short because they really were being a bit too wild. 

The headlines would say, ‘Harry’s horny?’

Harry absolutely wanted to give them a show. Only the show he was thinking of was pulling her panties to the side and sliding into her cunt, taking her hard up against the bar. And he didn’t think that was quite what Jeff had meant by giving more affection. 

“Come.” He stood them up and brought them over to a plush couch without saying anything to Jeff. He knew Harry wanted Y/N alone right now, and he didn’t need to ask. Plus, it would help if they were seen all on their own together. Only he sat with her next to him, quite close. His arm wrapped around her and he basically curled around her form, the hand holding his drink putting it down after he downed it again. Ignoring the burning in his throat, he took his cool hands and brushed them against her neck. The touch seemed to affect her, a sharp breath coming from her. “You’re playing games.” He mumbled, using his fingers to tuck the hair from her neck. “Naughty.”

“And you aren’t?” Y/N asked boldly, finding his eyes as they snapped up to look at her. If there was such a thing as eye fucking they were definitely doing it in that moment. They couldn’t be sat here for too long, no, they definitely needed to go dance or mingle or do something that wasn't in each other's space like this. But it was so hot. He was so close to her, his touch, his words. It was all proving to be too much. The Harry she had always imagined was coming out, fulfilling a lot of her fantasies that he didn’t even know she had. This was something she sat thinking about in her bedroom, sitting there rubbing her clit to the idea of Harry being a tease in public.

“Didn’t say I wasn’t, baby.” Harry shrugged. He was definitely playing and teasing. He needed to get her to it for a second so he had an excuse to get close enough to leave a mark. It was closer than he had gotten pulling her closer in the chair. Her neck was so deliciously bare. And he was feeling possessive right now with the way or her men saw her. She was beautiful and a little naive towards the way other men had been ogling her tonight. “Was gonna suggest ...a mark.” He proposed. “Righhhhht here.” He ran his finger over the exposed flesh that would show his mark if she let him. “I think you’d like that.” He was pretty sure the easiest way to do it would be on the dance floor. “Can let people see you’ve been marked. Just gotta get up and go dance for a little bit. It’ll feel nice.” He was driving her absolutely mad and he knew it too. The way he spoke to her and the way he was touching her, it felt far more intimate than anything else she’d ever felt. This couldn’t be fake, she wouldn’t believe what he said if he tried to deny it. It wasn’t the alcohol either. 

“I think I’d like that too..” Y/N responded, feeling her voice go a little quite towards the end. It would feel nice, having his lips on her neck and marking her as his. The way he was asking for permission though she had already given him free reign to do whatever he wanted. It was all a bit much. “Come on.” She said, getting up and downing her drink before taking his hand and guiding him towards the dance floor. The dance floor was quite busy, now a good few hours into the event. They had arrived a bit late anyway so the party was in full swing. Y/N was quite a good dancer and she knew that. 

Harry wasn’t a bad dancer. Not necessarily skilled though, so he had a feeling Y/N would be doing the talking if they had to truly dance. At the moment though, it seemed as everyone was doing their own things, which felt good. He stayed towards the edge of the dance floor though, taking her hand and pulling her into him. His hand was on her waist and she looked up at him with those eyes he’d been dreaming of and he felt like a crazy person for not having had her already. She was the ideal person to have sex with, he thinks. The perfect mix of dirty and innocent and he hadn’t even found out how bad she could be. He had a feeling he would be finding out rather soon. 

“Come.” He pulled her to be pressed against his body, one hand on her and the other holding her own. “You’re going to kill me, sweetness.” He muttered quietly. “Swear to god. You’ve been so naughty. And you know it.”

Y/N squeaked a bit as he pulled her against him, relaxing into his touch after a few seconds. It still made her dizzy. The whole being a fan thing didn’t help, it really didn’t help. She was already into him and now he was just playing it up and she felt like she would pass out. She moved her hips to the beat, grinding on him without hesitation. What? If they were dancing, they were dancing like everyone else was. 

“I’ve only been as naughty as you.” She said as a matter of factly, “but you like that, don’t you?” The alcohol started to work in her system convincing her to just say what was on her mind. Four shots of vodka all hitting her system at once definitely did the trick. There was nothing more she wanted to do than kiss him. She just wanted to sit him down and make out with him. Straddle his hips, grab his hair and just kiss him. They’d been ‘dating’ for four months and no one had seen them publicly kiss yet, but Y/N decided she’d make it her mission for him to kiss her tonight. If not now then never.

“I can’t say I mind.” Harry breathed. God, Y/N was grinding on him. She knew how to move and she was going to get him all worked up. Whatever photos anyone took would potentially be very sexually charged because his hand did drop lower, holding her hip a bit tighter. Her grinding slowed a bit and he wanted to groan. Y/N looked very happy. Very pleased to be making him feel like this. There was no way that she’d give up now. It seemed to be her goal to push his buttons. “I’m just trying to figure out just how naughty you are.” He had his face closer, mouth approaching her ear. “Because I can tell what you’re doing. And I’ll let you know, it’ll work. You’ll get what you want from me. You’re pushing me just hard enough.”

Everything about their interaction screamed sexual tension. The rubber band would snap soon and Y/N wasn’t sure how she felt about it yet. She felt high on the feeling, knowing that all she needed was a little push and she’d cave. Self control was important right now because as much as they were enjoying this moment, they were technically working. 

“Mmm keep trying then.” She whispered in his ear, lips brushing against his lobe ever so slightly. Y/N wanted to move lower and kiss at his neck, but she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from doing more. Harry seemed to be on board and that was something that she would run with. “What do you think I’m doing?” Y/N asked, genuinely pushing every button that she could just for the sake of it. Maybe he’d actually do something. It was his image after all, if there was anything he wanted to do or didn’t want to do, she wanted to make sure that it was his decision. She didn’t want to over step.

“To get me to break.” Harry muttered. This time, he pressed a kiss under her ear. Here it goes. He knew that there was no going back now. Now when Y/N was rubbing up on him and he had her where he wanted her. “You want me to touch. And you’re getting that.” Harry gave another kiss a spot lower. “And I’m going to give you a mark on your neck. People are going to see it, yeah? See photos of me making it. And you know it’ll feel really good.” His mouth was rubbing against her skin with every word, getting lower so he could find the spot. “Trying to push me. Being a naughty girl and getting me to do things I shouldn’t.” Like, fucking her raw and senseless. Harry was coming in short when it came to thread holding his resistance. Y/N may know that now. However he had found the spot he wanted to mark— so he began to kiss on it, nipping at the skin. She absolutely melted into him, the sweet little gasp making his cock twitch in interest.

Y/N closed her eyes the second his teeth touched her neck. It was going to be hard to dance as if this had happened before, as if this wasn’t the first time they were interacting in a sexual way. People knew Harry was a horny bastard, talking about how his new album was about sex and being sad. They’d assume he already fucked her. She wishes that was true. 

“But it’s not my fault, is it?” Y/N nearly moaned, “you want it as badly as I do.” She added, feeling her breath hitch as he began to kiss and nip at the sensitive part of her neck. “Trust me, you haven’t seen me act naughty.” Y/N confirmed, a gasp following her statement. Y/N couldn’t take this. He was doing things to her that she never thought were possible, endorphins flooding her body and making her feel like she was floating. She had melted into him completely, still dancing with him because she couldn’t just not move. “Fuck that feels good..” She whispered in his ear, a small moan escaping just for him to hear.

Harry’s arm held her tighter, keeping her up in a good position as he continued his assault on her perfect neck. “What if I want to see that?” He asked. His fatal mistake because he knew far too well that Y/N would show him. She would do as he asked and kill him. That was the scary thing and he wanted it. He didn’t give her time to answer though, beginning to suck on her neck. It was light at first, but continued on. Getting a bit harder. The music covered it, but he heard a whimper come from her as he sucked over the sensitive skin and scraped over it lightly with his teeth. It felt too quick. He had given her one and didn’t want to make it truly hurt, so he moved to right under her ear and began to nip at it. “Mm. Maybe two. I think that’s a better idea.” He confirmed with her, feeling her nod hurriedly. His hands had her hips and pulled her up against him, and he knew that Y/N was feeling just as good about it as he was. “Shh, baby. Gonna make them think I have my hand under your dress.”

He gave Y/N the answer she had been waiting for. He had wanted to see her naughty side, wanted to see her unravel completely for him and show him just how bratty she could be. Y/N was sure he wanted it, but it wouldn’t be appropriate to do that here. Not when everyone was watching. He knew that as well. Y/N really has been deprived of touch and affection, simple love bites were practically making her fly off the rocker. Maybe it was because Harry was the one giving them to her, but she really needed him to stop or she would lose it. 

“If you don’t stop i’ll have to take you up on that offer.” Y/N told him, a whimper still present in her voice. She moved a hand up to his hair, tugging at it hard enough to get him to pull off her neck. “You have to stop, I’ll lose it..” She told him genuinely. It was a bit embarrassing to say, but she’d rather not make a fool of herself in public from a few hickeys.

Ha. Harry had won this round. Driving her crazy. The way she had said it though... saying she had wanted his hand under her dress... he was tempted. 

“M’sorry, Kiska.” He promised, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t sorry at all. He was thriving off of this energy and was dying to at least get his mouth on her. “If I could get away with my hand under your dress.. it would be there.” He could tell she wanted it too. The whimper of disappointment she let out. God, he wanted to destroy her. “What would you have done if I kept going?” They continue to dance, Harry's lips a bit damp with his own spit from kissing over and sucking on her neck. Their dancing had an even rhythm now, but he wanted to know what she thinks would have happened if he had continued on. Y/N was flushed and the marks were beginning to get darker. “What about it makes you crazy? Did you like the little bit of pain? How it’s a little tender? I want to know what you’re thinking.” He lifted a hand and ran his thumb over one of the marks and smirked when she jolted but her eyes were darker.

Y/N knew she had lost but she didn’t care, she really couldn’t take it. Her body was practically shaking with desire, never having been so turned on in her life. Y/N felt her like her body was on fire. Sure, their dancing was sexually charged and the neck kissing was as well, but to an outsider that’s all it was. They didn’t know what was actually happening. 

“I—I wouldn’t have been able to keep it a secret.” Y/N told him, “it’d be too obvious, we’d have to leave.” That was true. Her knees would have buckled and she would have forced him to take them home. It wasn’t acting, they both knew that now. Would they speak on it again? No. “The pain.” She told him hesitantly, “I like the pain and the thrill of people watching.” There it was, the first little insight on how naughty she really was. He had asked to know after all. “It’s been a while— it’s a lot.” Y/N added wanting him to know that she really had been deprived of all the good things. “I think we need another drink.”

Harry was living for it. He truly was. Y/N was flustered and he was hot and bothered and now had 2 different marks on her neck. This was exactly the situation he originally had been trying to avoid but now was actively pursuing. 

“Two double shots.” When they’d got to the bar again, he had his hands on her. It was like he couldn’t let go. Standing behind her, he nuzzled his face into the side of her neck and kissed both of the marks before smirking and hiding again. He was being a tease and going to drive Y/N mad and he knew it but in all honesty, it was fun. Like a game. “Just don’t speak Russian. Cause then I’ll be forced to do things that aren’t very public appropriate and there’s tons of cameras everywhere.” 

Hopefully the drink would cool Y/N down, her head was spinning and Harry wasn’t helping one bit. Her breath hitched a little as he pressed kisses to the marks. “Dick.” She muttered, lifting her hand up to play with his hair. She scratched his scalp a little bit as he hid into her neck, humming softly to herself. “Maybe I should and not let you touch me.” Y/N teased, “Maybe you’ll play nice then.” Of course she wasn’t going to let that happen. She loved his touch far too much though she also loved the idea of teasing him and getting her revenge. She was still shook up from their little stunt earlier and wasn’t sure if she could handle anymore teasing. Especially if they went home and didn’t do anything. “Cause you can’t keep working me up like this and not fuck me sore.” Y/N whispered in his ear, being completely serious. If he kept this up and they went home and he did nothing she’d be extremely moody and pissy.

Harry was a little surprised with her crassness. Truly, he hadn’t expected her to come out and say it. That she wanted to be fucked hard. But god, he could do it. He could very well run in to her and just bend her over any surface and take her. Their chemistry was off the charts and he had a feeling other people could see it. He knew too well that it was wrong of him. But his body didn’t care. 

“Is that what you want?” He questioned, eyes blown with lust. She was giving him such a time. “Wow.. you seem so innocent, but you’re here talking about being fucked sore. Have you ever been properly fucked, Kiska?” His voice dropped to a growl, moving them closer to the bar. To any onlooker, it just looked like he was hiding his face against her but he was really giving his little fake lover a run for her money. “Been pounded away until you can’t breathe? Because you seem so sweet. But I can see now that you’re a dirty little girl and you’re a tease. Isn’t quite fair to me.” He scolded, his hand slipping to her thigh for a moment before he rested his chin on her shoulder and sent a charming smile to the bartender.

Y/N bit her lip, wanting so desperately to moan at how dirty and rough his voice sounded. “Yes, it’s what I want...” She told him honestly, deciding if she was going to spill any night it could be tonight where she could pretend she was more drunk than she was. She wasn’t anywhere near drunk right now though. The second he asked if she’d ever been properly fucked is when she lost it, knowing she needed him desperately and needed him now. But they had to be here until Jeff told them they could leave. “I haven’t, I’ve been so deprived.” She whimpered into his ear, “could you help me, daddy?” It was a stab in the dark seeing if he liked being called daddy, but she had seen a video of him on tour saying ‘yes daddy I will’ which proved to her that he may in fact enjoy being called daddy. But who really knew? She was about to find out.

Oh god. Oh god damn it. Harry was going to die. He was sure of it. She had tapped into one of his kinks that he was sure probably wasn’t a secret but... fuck. Y/N had sounded so pretty with her whimpers and then asking him to help her? That she hadn’t been fucked right? 

“Fuck.” Harry groaned against her skin. “I want to. Shit, baby. You’re dirty, I love it.” He pressed himself against her ass and let her feel his cock that was getting harder at her teasing. And the little minx pressed back against it. He couldn’t touch her here, but he could tease and talk to her with his cock against her ass and work her up. He pulled her closer and swayed them slightly, giving himself a bit of friction. “You wore this to tease me.” Harry's voice was deep, a little raspy. “Wore it to drive me crazy and you knew it would.”

Ha. Y/N won this round. Noticing how he was slowly starting to crack, slowly giving into her teasing and her pleading. The feeling of his semi hard cock rubbing against her was also a confirmation that she was doing something right, smirking to herself as she pushed back against him a little bit. 

“Of course I did.” She hummed, “thought it's about time I gave you no option but to give in. Those tops I wear didn’t quite do the trick, but this....” Y/N was very confident now that she knew it was working, needy, but confident. She just knew how to play up on the whiney neediness and the sexy neediness at the right times. Harry was lapping it up too. They both knew they’d go to his and have mind blowing sex, four months of pent up frustration sex. It was just a matter of when they would do so. Jeff really was the one who was going to give the go ahead and well, Harry was most likely going to keep teasing the both of them.

“Calculated little thing. Know how to get your way, hm.” Y/N was proving to be a force to be reckoned with. And Harry couldn’t even be upset over it because he was bringing this upon himself. He truly was. This woman was giving him a run for his damn money. “You said you liked the thrill of people watching, baby?” He asked. “S’it getting you off? All these people around and you’ve got my cock up against this gorgeous ass? And getting all wet inside those panties?” He knew she had to be soaked. “You’re probably so wet. A little bit sticky too, hm? Gonna start getting on your thighs. Wouldn’t be surprised now if you liked that. Liked getting all worked up and having no one know what I’m telling you.”

Y/N rubbed back against him anytime she felt like she wanted to moan, gripping at his arm that was around her waist. God she could kill him but she wasn’t going to let him get the best of her, she could control herself for a little while longer. If it was promising enough. 

“You have no idea.” She simply responded, knowing it answered all of the above. Yes, it did thrill her, it did get her off, it was getting her wet inside her panties and he had no idea just how much. If he really wanted to, he could have a feel, she was sure if he peeled off her underwear there would even be a trail of wetness that pulled with it like a strand of spit. Yes, she was that fucking wet. “You better fuck me real good tonight, daddy... Я с ума сойду у..” She whispered in his ear, adding the ‘or I’ll lose my mind’ in Russian just for added effect. That should do the trick.

“Fuck..” Harry pressed her up against the bar. it was crowded enough that he could sneak a hand between her thighs, and as soon as he got under the dress he could feel the soaked and sticky panties. “My fucking god... you’re really soaked through.” He hissed, kissing her cheek a few times and smiled down at her. Harry pressed his fingers harder against her and his arm around her waist tightened, her knees weakening in his hold. Finding her clit, he pressed and rubbed a few times, sighing in pleasure when her hips bucked a little bit. Luckily there were people behind them talking, and no one was paying attention. His head was hidden and it was hard to tell who ended and who began. “Soaked little princess. Poor pussy... needs some attention.” He purred, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. “I shouldn’t be touching you at all, Kiska. Not at all. But you’ve been teasing me, and talking to me in that sexy little voice, you’re killing me.”

Y/N swore she stopped breathing, heart skipped a beat. Harry Styles was touching her fucking pussy. How on earth did she end up here? Y/N almost lost it, nearly moaned out loud with the poor bartender standing right there. Y/N sipped on her drink, using it to stifle the moans and whimpers that were threatening to escape. Her knees buckled, losing balance as his fingers started working on her clit through her panties. She sighed in pleasure, playing it off as if she was just sighing but really she was dying. “Please...” She begged, biting down on her lip, “you’re killing me.” If he was going to keep doing this she would full on cum in public and she wasn’t exactly ready for that. She wasn’t sure if she could hide that, holy fuck it was already overwhelming. She wished they were alone. “Funny.... you touched my clit before kissing me.”

“Mm. I know that once I start m’not gonna stop.” And that was the truth. The man knew that he would get one taste of her cherry mouth? He would want to sip on it for a while. And plus... it was less obvious. But he took his fingers away, bringing them to his mouth and sucking the slick arousal off. It was sweet. Beautiful. The best he had ever tasted— and Harry did like to eat pussy, so that was saying a lot. 

“What’s stopping you? It will feel good.” Y/N repeated his words from earlier in the night, hoping he’d listen. She thought she’d pass out just then, a shiver ran down her spine at the sight of him sucking her wetness of his fingers. The man really wanted to end her didn’t he? The look of pure enjoyment on his face, it should be illegal. 

“So good. But... turn.” He instructed, cupping the side of her face with the clean hand. “You’re being very good now. So..” Harry murmured, leaning down and connecting their lips. And he swore, he completely lost his mind. It was like that instant connection just made sense. Being like this with her, the kiss, it had him feeling. Truly. He was incredibly shocked but he continued the kiss. It wasn’t too dirty— it was relatively soft considering he was just rubbing her cunt moments ago. But it was delicious.

Good god. Y/N’d never felt this before. A true surge of electricity bolted through her, the kiss passionate but not too off putting. It was just a kiss two people that really liked each other would share. Y/N knew people were taking photos, it was as if she could feel people’s eyes on them. The gasps from around them also sort of helped. She just let one of her hands wrap around his wrist while the other gripped onto the lapel of his jacket. She could get lost doing this all day. Y/N hoped they would get to do this freely from now on, she wasn’t sure she could ever go without kissing him again.

Harry couldn’t care less about the people taking photos. His hands held her soft little face and their lips pulled apart only for him to go back— this time for tiny little pecks to make her giggle. It was cute. He wanted her to feel that way when he kissed her. 

Y/N did giggle at the pecks that he left on her lips, scrunching her nose a little bit because she just couldn’t believe that she was in fact kissing Harry Styles. This was truly a dream come true, unfortunately she’d sound like a nutter if she told him that. 

“S’good.” Harry said when he pulled apart for real, placing one last kiss to her forehead. “Want to leave, Kiska?” Harry wanted to get her alone. Get her in his damn lap. The moment the car pulled away from the club he would have his hand back up her dress. He was positive Y/N knew the same. He needed to get inside of her. Have this one night. Maybe it would get his need for her out of his system. Sure— he didn’t think so, but he was hoping so that his heart wouldn’t be in danger. He didn’t realize his heart was already right in the palm of her hand and she had the power to crush it into powder.

“Can we?” Y/N asked softly, eyes wide and soft. Ready to submit and she knew that he knew. Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him for a moment before finishing her drink and walking with him towards where Jeff was to bid him and Glenne a good night. They probably would get scolded on a normal night, but they had made quite the show. They did more than enough, too enamored with each other to even think to speak to anyone else. Jeff knew that they were both very much into each other and laughed because they were both in denial. Y/N less so.

“Gonna have a lot of cameras outside. Just be a good girl for me, yeah? Gotta behave until we pull away.” Harry spoke to her as he helped her with her jacket, moving her hair out of the way. It was dumb to be so proud of a mark on her neck, but he had been aware of how guys looked at her. Aware that she wasn’t. And then people would know, they’d be so aware that Y/N was his pretty girl. Confirm that relationship. Opening the door, he had a tight grip on her waist as he led her out of the club. The questions were yelled out but he focused on getting her to the car. It took a minute, but he opened the back of the door and picked her up with her up by the waist once again. She moved over, and Harry got in behind her. 

“My place, please.” He called to the driver before shutting the partition. Once it was closed, and they began to drive away? Harry turned right back to her. “You... make me lose control.” He growled, pulling her into his lap. Her hips were bigger and there was that tiny little belly that he liked, but his hands gravitated towards her ass. Gripping it tightly with one hand, the other came up to her throat. Her gasp had him twitching in his pants. Y/N seemed to love it.

Y/N squeaked as he pulled her into his lap, her dress riding up significantly. She set her hands on his shoulders to stabilize herself, moving them down to his chest once she felt comfortable. The hand on her throat though, that was the best surprise of the night. 

“Mmm.” She whimpered, looking down at him with a smile. Y/N was a kinky bitch. No man had ever really understood that. She was never able to play up her sexuality in bed, never able to truly let loose and do whatever she wanted because the guys never knew how to properly dominate her. But Harry knew, she knew he would. “That’s a good thing.” She teased, “need to loosen up, rockstar.” 

Harry was happy. She was taking to it easily, and that only added to his arousal. Y/N was what he wanted in bed. Seemingly submissive but a little bit of a brat. So far she had been lippy but he loved it. 

“Do I?” He murmured. “I can think of a few ways to help me relax.” His mouth moves forward to her chest, kissing the swells of her tits. “These... these fucking tits.” It was a hiss, licking over between them before he switched to the other side. “You know how much I love them.” He needed to have a good taste. It was necessary. “And you’ve got them up on display, wanting for me to touch them, hm?” He questioned. “Do you know how many times I’ve been thinking about them covered in cum? Hm?”

“You like them, don’t you daddy?” Y/N cooed, watching as he went to kiss at her soft pillowy breasts. “Had them out just for you...” She added because she really did. No one else mattered right now. But, he’d.... thought about her tits? His cum on her tits? Multiple times? She must be dreaming. Sure, she’s been masturbating to the thought of him since she was 13, but to think he was jerking off to the thought of her? It made her moan out loud. “It’d look so pretty.”

“You... are absolutely sinful.” Harry’s mouth closed in near her covered nipple, and looked up at her. “Mmm. Had them out for me? What a great, sweet girl.” Harry's head was going into overdrive because he wanted to be touching any inch he could of her. Wanted to touch and lick her body over and over again and drive his cock in deep. “Said that you’ve never been fucked properly before... s’so sad, baby. Isn’t it? Need to have a good cock inside of you. Do you like it rough?” He questioned, looking up at her honey eyes. “Like it hard? Or do you want it soft?” He wanted to make it good for both of them, so he asked the question even though he was fairly certain of the answer.

“Only for you...” She told him, knowing she had never been this sinful in her life. Only in her mind in the fantasies that he lived in. Y/N let out a moan, nodding her head at his question. “N—no never...” She answered honestly, thinking about how she liked it. She liked it rough but liked it soft as well, figuring that whatever it was Harry decided to do she’d love it because it was Harry and his glorious cock that she felt bulking up against her crotch. 

Y/N loved how vocal he was, how he talked to her through every little action. It’s almost as if he wanted her to fumble as he pleasured her. Y/N didn’t mind though, she thought she sounded quite hot when she was being pleasured. Her previous encounters loved phone sex with her. Her hand went to the back of his head, tugging at his hair like she knew he liked as his plump strawberry lips wrapped around her nipple. He looked so fucking pretty like that. 

“I like it rough mostly, but some soft bits are nice... mix it up.” She told him, “just use me... I like it deep. I want to feel you in my belly.”

His sweet girl. This innocent thing was asking Harry to use her. She was dirty in ways that he knew a lot of other people weren’t. Sure, they talked a good game but when it came down to it, they couldn’t take it. But Y/N? She was sitting in his lap with his hand on her throat and ass and asked him to use her. That, was exactly what she wanted. He could tell by her face. That was the hottest thing. She wanted to be his baby, but his baby slut. He loved it. Y/N was surprising him at every turn. Sure, he had expected a little kinky from how she had been acting but... she turned around and used daddy, had let him play with her cunt under a bar, all of it and that was hot. 

“Deep in that precious belly, hm? Bury myself in your little cunt and make you take it, s’that it, my girl?” Harry kept calling her his. Because in the back of his mind, she was. Y/N had been his since that first day, even though he would keep denying it.

“Yes, please, daddy...” Y/N nodded in response, truly looking so bloody happy to be in this position. They’d be at his soon and she would get her relief soon enough. She felt like she had proven herself to be a good girl and that he wouldn’t tease her as much when they got inside. “Told you I was naughty...” Y/N reminded him, “but it’s just the way you like it.” She smirked and moved her hips forward to add a little pressure to his cock. “And I guarantee I’m the naughtiest you’ll ever have.” It was a bold statement but she was positive it was true. All she wanted was for him to be pleased.

Y/N felt the car come to a stop and was slightly upset that their little car journey was over, but even more excited to get inside and see what exactly he had planned for the two of them. Y/N loved how dominant Harry had proven to be, thoroughly enjoying pleasuring her as well as himself. She was positive she’d never feel this amazing in her life.

Harry was looking forward to seeing Y/N to ruin him. He wanted to make her feel good but he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to be able to get this out of his head every time he saw her. 

Grabbing her little bag, he tipped the driver handsomely before scrambling into the house. He needed this and wanted it and didn’t want to waste a single damn second. Y/N was eager too, Harry snickering as she basically tugged him up to his front door. They couldn’t do anything out here— but as soon as he got inside? 

He slammed the door shut and pressed her against it, mouth on hers yet again again. Harry found that it was one of his new favorite places. The taste and the warm feeling... he loved it so much. Her tongue ran across his lips and into his mouth and he was hooked. Shoving their jackets off, he grabbed hold of her and lifted her with ease, legs wrapping around his waist. 

“Gonna wreck you, baby. Make you cum so hard that you can’t fucking breathe.” He hadn’t tried overstimulation before but he just as well may with her. She overwhelmed him quite a bit.

Y/N groaned against his mouth, eagerly moving to push his jacket off of him just as he pushed hers off. Her arms immediately wrapped around his shoulders as he lifted her, the kiss only becoming that much more intense when his hands landed on her ass. She swore it was one of her favorite feelings. 

“Ugh, yes, daddy PLEASE!” She moaned out, desperate to get this dress off and to get him naked as well. Y/N only had a small thong underneath, having forgone a bra for the sake of the dress. It was tight enough that it kept them in place. Her dream was coming to life and she would make damn sure to make the best of it. Y/N’s moved to kiss from the corner of his mouth to his jawline, finding a soft spot right below his jawline on his neck. She decided to return the favor from earlier, living a hickey of her own there. Hopefully he didn’t mind. “Can’t wait for you to fill me..” she whispered in his ear. “Я хочу тебя.” A simple, I want you in Russian just to get him going. “I want you so bad..”

It was the Russian that had Harry’s blood hot. He wanted to hear her speak it all the time. What if they had kids? She could teach them— Wait. 

Fuck. That was a weird fucking thought and he had to shake himself out of it. There wouldn’t be kids. The hell was wrong with him? It had to be the power of her pussy— but he hadn’t even been inside yet. 

“Gotta get you naked.” Harry needed her naked and wet and ready for him. That was the goal, anyways. To have this girl spread out and eager to be taking his cock. Y/N was telling him that she couldn’t wait so he held her to him, walking towards his room. They wouldn’t be leaving that bed, unless it was to fuck against a wall or in the bathroom. His shoes were kicked off as he stepped in, nearly blind because they were kissing again and Y/Ns hands were all over his hair,  it was amazing. Truly. His cock ached and was begging to be inside of her but every second of this was incredible to him.

Once Harry placed her on the bed Y/N sat up, unzipping her dress and lifting it up above her head quickly, but careful as to not rip it. She really liked that dress. It was at this point that Y/N was eye level with his cock, allowing her hands to travel to the loops in his pants, pulling him closer to her. 

“Fuck me...” She mumbled, one of her hands palming over his aching cock. She unzipped them and pulled ever so slightly until they pooled at his ankles, eyes still very much focused on his cock. Y/N looked up at him, a devilish look in her eyes as she wanted for some direction. She admittedly got distracted but it was because this was the cock she had been dreaming about, the cock she imagined filling her mouth and her cunt and even her ass. “You’re so big daddy, so handsome...” She commented, pressing a kiss to his clothes cock and smiling to herself. She was pushing buttons.

There was something so incredibly hot to Harry about her sitting on his bed, eye level with his cock. She had just instinctually gone to it, kissing on it... that was the hottest thing. Being so genuinely into him and wanting to touch. There had been many a time now these past few months and he had thought about this view. However now he was in full view of her tits and her messy hair, her looking up with those eyes at him. He was a mess. 

“Yeah? Thank you, baby.” He murmured. “Why don’t you take it out, hm... suck a little bit. And then I want to have my turn.” He was thirsting for her cunt. Literally. He just wanted to kiss and suck and lick her sweet pussy until she came over and over again. He wanted her to feel how good it was to have her cunt properly worshipped. Y/N was a good girl, but she was so bad. He had a feeling she would utterly love that.

Y/N smiled as he gave her the go ahead, tugging on his shirt and muttering a small “off” because she wanted to see his perfectly toned torso and chest. Harry was really her version of a perfect man, everything about him made her crazy and she couldn’t stop herself. Not now, not anymore. This was raw and real. Y/N gently pulled his cock out from his boxer briefs, pushing them down all the way while she leaned in and spat all over his cock. Y/N locked her eyes with his, letting the spit travel down his cock while she went to lick from the base to the top. She let her hand spread the sloppy mess that she made, pumping at the base while her lips wrapped around the lip and began sucking. 

The amount of times she had thought about this, the amount of times he imagined hearing him moan for her and pull her hair. Just feeling the weight of his cock on her tongue, it was everything she desired. Y/N took more of him into her mouth once she felt comfortable, moaning against him a bit because she knew it would feel good.

Holy shit. Harry had expected her to be eager, a little dirty— but she may be right. It’s probably that Y/N was going to be the dirtiest girl he’s ever been with. It was evident by how she spit on his cock, looking right up at him as she made a mess. Something Harry fucking loved. Other partners didn’t love a mess but he did. In his opinion, it was hotter. More passionate. A good spit or cum all over was good. Arousing. And Y/N was on her knees, licking over his cock and pumping her hand at the bottom. Harry was big, but Y/N took it like a fucking champion. His hand gathered her hair in his fist. Gently yanking on it to show he had control before allowing her to continue. And then she began to moan with his cock in her mouth, bobbing her head up and down— it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. 

“God, yes. Keep sucking my cock like that— fucccck. That’s a girl.” He praised, watching her closely. “Messy little girl. You like it messy, huh? Like getting daddy’s cock all wet? Good job. Doing just what I asked.”

Y/N was determined and dedicated to making him feel good, making it very clear with the way she was working her mouth over his cock like he was a lollipop of sorts. She hummed in response, not wanting to pull off because he seemed to really like what she was doing. Y/N kept eye contact as she tried to take more and more of him into her mouth, giving him full control over her with his hand in her hair. She did say she wanted him to use her so it really was free reign. They had all night to play around with each other, but she could already tell she had left a damp spot on his bed with how increasingly wet she was getting from watching him. The way his face contorted in pleasure, his gritty voice. She was thoroughly enjoying every second and she wouldn’t stop unless he told her to.

Harry was in love with her mouth. He wanted it around him 24/7. Harry was also an incredibly sexual person with a filthy, kinky mind. “Can imagine you warming my cock just like this while I take some calls. Would be very nice, wouldn’t it, Y/N?” He grabbed her hair tighter and began to pump in and out of her mouth. When he first met her he hadn’t ever imagined actually being able to fuck her mouth. But the girl gave over control, looking up with watery eyes as he took over. She could handle a little deeper. So he did just that, hissing when her throat tightened a bit around his Fock before pulling out. She sputtered but then— the slut whined. “Even after gagging on my cock, you’re still whining to have it back in your mouth? Fuck. You’re a cockslut, Baby. Can't believe this.” He gave it back and immediately had that suction again, her every suck in time with how he thrusted into the mouth. Every so often he would get just deep enough to make her gag and repeated the process, watching as she began to drool on him. “Shit— so messy. Such a messy little whore. Drool all over your chin and you’re still eager for my cock.” He was in awe. Y/N was something he had dreamed of and she only kept getting better.

Y/N felt smug. Harry was so shocked every time she whined for his cock and she wondered what I’m earth those other girls were doing. To Y/N, it wasn��t good sex unless she was fully letting go and doing everything her heart desired to and with her partner. Y/N pulled off of him hesitantly, licking up and down his cock as she caught her breath and then spoke. 

“Can I make you cum like this daddy?” Her voice low and hoarse, “think you’ll be able to go again if I do?” She asked, just wanting to make sure though she was positive he would. Harry seemed like a kinky bastard and she wanted to make him cum as many times as she possibly could tonight. Her pussy was fucking aching. She was practically bouncing against the bed trying to get some friction. She whined a little bit, not wanting to full on ask because she was too busy servicing his cock, but she wanted it... bad.

“Yes— yeah, I can cum again for you.” Harry could. If it was Y/N? He knew that he’d be able to give her anything she wanted as long as she gave him those eyes and that little pout. He was so whipped already and he was positive that she was going to turn his life upside down. It was too late to stop it. “Go ahead. Make me cum, then.” He coaxed. “Want it in your mouth and on your tits. I know you can do that for me. You’ve been such a slutty girl, and you’ll like being covered in daddy’s cum.” 

That seemed to set Y/N off. Her mouth was on his cock and sucking hard, hand going quickly over it. Harry’s mouth opened and a groan left him, overtaken with pleasure. It was no doubt he was going to cum quickly. It had been a while since he had fucked anyone and Y/N had some spell over him. He didn’t have to say much else, Y/N returned her mouth on to him and let her hand work the rest that she couldn’t reach. She remembered all the spots that set Harry off and paid close attention to them, sucking harder and moving at a quicker pace than before. Y/N moaned against him, as if begging him to cum for her. She wanted to taste him, wanted to see him in that wonderful state of bliss. She had already moved past thinking that she wasn’t attractive to him, clearly she was doing things to him and it boosted her ego far more than should be allowed. When she felt his muscles start to tighten she continued her actions, moaning against him and keeping at her actions waiting for him to blow his load. It was glorious. The sound that came from his mouth, the way he filled her mouth. She pulled off of him and let some drip down her chin, making him blow the rest of her load on her chest. 

“That’s it daddy, cum all over me..”

Harry hadn't cum that hard in a long time. Maybe ever because his toes felt a little numb, his mouth open and his cock actually throbbing with the arousal. His load had to have been huge, considering he hadn’t cum like this in a long time. She let half of it in her mouth, and then opened it and let it drool down her chin— which was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. Her hand continued to work his cock as he covered her tits in ribbons of cum. There was nothing quite like the sight of her covered in it. Once he had calmed slightly, he lifted her up and tilted her head back, immediately going forward her mouth. Some guys refused to kiss their significant others when they’d gone down on them— but the messy state of her mouth had him beyond horny. Y/N responder with a mewl and Harry's hand went directly to her pussy. 

“Down on the bed.” The mix of her spit and cum strung between both of their lips. “Spread your thighs. I want to lick you out.”

Y/N moaned against his mouth, eagerly moving back on to the bed. She had been waiting for him to touch her like this since the beginning of the night. She had a little taste of it at the bar but this? This was a whole other animal she swore she was absolutely not ready for. She was extremely sensitive to touch, it had been a really long time since anyone had slept with her and she truly forgot what it felt like. His warm ring clad hands on her caused goosebumps to spread all over her body, she was very much aroused. Harry nestled himself in between her legs, her heart pounding so hard she swore it would fly out of her chest. He hadn’t even done anything and she was already whimpering, pussy throbbing just from the sight. When you’ve been thinking about it for as long as she had, you would receive similar reactions. She convinced herself that she psychologically wired her brain to associate Harry with orgasms and that’s why it was affecting her like this.

Harry groaned. She had soaked through the thong. It was nearly see through, the pink tiny thing. He decided to lick right over it as a tease, and lottle Y/N jolted on the bed. He took hold of her by the apex of her thighs and held her down, swiping his tongue over the sticky fabric again. 

“Hm.. what have we got?” He purred up at her. “A wet little pussy, huh?” He held her body to the bed, moving one arm now to stroke over her tummy. He moved up and kissed over her mound, over to her belly button and covered the surrounding areas with kisses. “Love this.” He had an attraction to it that he couldn’t quite explain. He just thrives off of seeing it. And now he would have to remember every single time to give it some love. But right now he needed some pussy, and that’s what he was going to get. He began to peel the panties off, growling in pleasure when he sat they were quite literally stuck to her. Fuck. He had done that, and he was proud of it. Her inner thighs were wet too, and Harry felt the heat of his body rise even more. “Christ, pet. You’re so wet...” He whispered. “Soaked through the panties... look at this. They’re stuck to you.” He said in awe. He gently peeled it back further, watching the arousal string on them. He was keeping these. “These are mine.” He took them and placed them on his night stand before taking a look. He didn’t waste much more time before leaning down, and taking one broad, long lick.

Y/N blushed, heat rushing to her face and chest as he observed her body. She was expecting to feel shy and embarrassed, but it was quite the opposite really. It was something she had always worried about, but the look in his eyes said it all. He was absolutely fucking perfect. A small giggle left her mouth at his astonishment, not realizing just how wet she actually was. 

“Oh my god.” She moved her hands to cover her face, shaking her head before moving her hands so she could sit up a bit and lean on her elbows to watch him. She wasn’t sure how long that would last but she would try. The moan that left her was pornographic. Her whole body twitched at the feeling, pleasure spreading through her body already. She really was sensitive. “Harry..” She whimpered, looking down at him and seeing his darker green eyes flash up to look at her. “That feels... so good.”

Harry knew now that he was going to be obsessed with her pussy. Not only did it taste amazing but it felt so good on his tongue. Warm and soft, he didn’t mind the slick all over his chin as he ran his tongue up and down the little slit. Y/N was giving him everything. 

“So sweet, princess. Taste so fucking good.” He was sure he was going to end up down here again tonight. He wanted it more than once and truly did have this affinity for her pussy. His tongue swiped up, running flat over her clit a few times. Swollen, he decided to rub his tongue around it in circles, which had her squeaking and moving her hips. To which he held her down again. He would decided when she could fuck his face.

Y/N tried closing her eyes thinking that maybe it would be less intense if she couldn’t see him but she was so so wrong. Her senses heightened and she swore she could feel every single cell in her body vibrate. He wasn’t even doing anything that special, but he had teased the fuck out of her to the point that anything would set her off. Y/N leaned back once again, allowing one of her hands to move to his hair while the other gripped at his blanket. He looked so happy to be nuzzled between her thighs, his eyes closed and invested in making her feel good. 

“Ah fuck—“ Y/N’s voice went a few octaves higher, those circular motions always did her in. He was still going relatively slow and Y/N just tried to bite her moans back. It was embarrassing all the sounds she was letting out, but she truly had never had a guy pay this much attention to her pussy. She appreciated it so damn much. “Is there anything you can’t do? Fuck—” She whined, feeling like he was just good at everything he did. This man had no flaws in her book, the only problem was his terrible communication skills, but she wasn’t too fussed about that when his face nuzzled in her pussy.

Appreciating the compliment, Harry hummed against her and gave a bit of vibration to her. He had always enjoyed eating pussy, don’t get him wrong. But Y/N was on a whole other level. Reacting to every flick of his tongue, she was his favorite. He pulled away for a moment, spitting over her and going back to spread it around her with his tongue. He was going to blow her mind and he was ready to have her cumming all over his mouth and then his cock. It was a plan to have Y/N soak him and his bed. The next move was his favorite. Wrapping his lips around her clit, and sucking. Just slightly at first, but it was an immediate reaction. Letting out some curses, the grip on his hair tighter, he had a rhythmic and slow way about it, sucking over and over again on the little thing.

“Holy shit— fuck me—” Y/N cursed, gripping tighter on the bed sheets and his hair. Her breathing was slowly starting to pick up as the knot began to tighten in her stomach. Harry has clearly licked out plenty of pussies in his and enjoyed it. She always imagined him to be obsessed with it, but the way he treated hers made her feel like a princess. “S—so good...” Y/N whimpered, knowing that it would only get more intense from here. “Ещё Harry, пожалуйста!” More Harry, please! Her hips unintentionally moved up against his mouth once again, pleading for more in Russian. Maybe he would understand, maybe he wouldn’t, but she knew it was a big turn on for him so she thought maybe he’d do it naturally. There was only one way to find out. Her pussy throbbed against his tongue, her hole begging to be filled. “Please, fuck me... please...” Y/N begged, her voice sounding whiny and desperate. She desperately wanted to feel what it was like to have him fuck her. Properly Fuck her. Make her scream so loud she lost her damn voice.

“Mm. Patient. Daddy’s having fun.” Harry scolded, but dipped his fingers through the cum on her chest before going back to her clit. Using the dirty fingers, he began to slide one of them inside of her. There was something about the thought of his cum inside of her cunt that had Harry wanting more and more of it. He was nearly fucking nursing on her clit, humming happily as her cunt clenched hard around his finger, and he added the second. There was a high noise coming from Y/N, trying to lift her hips but he was doing a good job keeping her down. He wanted to make her cum like this. He was steady, thrusting the two fingers in and out of her soft pussy while defiling her with his cum. Every so often he would go up and scoop up a little more, sliding it back inside of her. It’s where it belonged in his mind. Y/N’s clit throbbed against his tongue, and his fingers could feel how badly she wanted to be fucked. Trying to milk them like she would be on his cock— god, he was going to be a mess as soon as he was inside of her. He was now. Nuzzling against her cunt and sucking harder against her clit, he wanted her to lose her mind

Y/N’s head was spinning. She’d never experienced pleasure like this and she knew for a fact it was all that teasing that did her in. For about three hours she was being edged on, touched, and teased. Even now he wasn’t doing enough to make her properly cum. No, this was all still build up. Whimpers and whines continued to escape her lips as she tried to stay still and relaxed, but it became harder and harder to do as he started pumping cum covered fingers inside of her. God, he was filthy, she loved it. A pussy full of Harry Styles’ cum? A dream. She’d have his fucking baby now if he asked, but frankly she was on the pill. It was surprisingly part of the contract because apparently even Jeff knew Harry liked to fuck raw. 

“Please daddy, please let me cum...” Y/N pleaded, the despair present in her voice. “I’ve been so good for you, p—please daddy it hurts!” She whimpered, despite thoroughly enjoying the pain. It was worse than having an itch you couldn’t scratch. “I want your cock, pretty please!”

“Hm. I want you to cum for me first, baby. Before you can have my cock, I want a mess on my face.” Harry was desperate for it actually. He wanted it all over him and wanted to feel her cum on his fingers. Which he did absolutely begin to thrust in and out of her cunt even faster. It was so hot. Y/N was a moaning mess, literally begging for his cock while he finger fucked her. He could hear how wet she was with every thrust of his fingers, and she was rolling her hips as Harry sucked on her clit over and over again, trying to coax her into orgasm. Y/N felt good. She felt like she was meant to be on his tongue, like his fingers even felt perfectly aligned with her hips, and he knew that she was close. “Cmon baby. Let go for me. I know you want to cum for daddy.”

Y/N whined at his response, huffing and whining as he picked up speed. “Oh fuck— daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy!” It didn’t take long for him to find the perfect rhythm and she swore all the breath left out of her lungs. “Oh my god!” The noise she let out was somewhere between a moan and a scream, her orgasm ripping through her. It was a sight to see. Her back arched off of her bed and legs shook uncontrollably, eyes rolling back from the sheer amount of pleasure that was coursing through her body. “Oh daddy..” She breathed heavily, a smile spreading across her face. She had never felt so good in her life. Y/N tugged I’m his hair, begging him to come up for a kiss. She needed it. She had fallen in love. There was no question about it. After knowing what she knew about him and getting to know him over these four months she had decided that she was in fact in love. She’d never tell.

----

It was 3 rounds. 3 rounds of hot and heavy and rough sex unlike anything else he had ever done. Harry knew sex wouldn’t ever be the same again. Y/N had ruined him. Completely and utterly ruined his ass and he couldn’t even be mad yet. Y/N was in his arms, underneath the covers. His hand stroked her hair as they spoke quietly about random things. He was relaxed and soft right now and Y/N had him in the perfect situation to get him to talk. Pillow talk was something he was good at. It's easier to be vulnerable when he was sexed out. 

Y/N was messy but in a sexy way. Her hair wild and lips beyond swollen. They’d both need chapstick in the morning, but it was worth it. Her fingers played on his chest and traced his tattoos. Leg over his hip, snuggled right into him. It was unreal. The feeling of euphoria she had just experienced. Three whole rounds of incredible sex that definitely blew everyone else out of the water. She never thought she could connect with anyone like that, but if it would be anyone, it would be Harry. She pressed soft kisses to his warm and somewhat sweaty skin, tracing his tattoos that were still visible in the moonlight that came through the windows of Harry’s room. They never really spoke when they were alone and in private together, she figured now was probably a good time to talk. 

“What are you thinking about right now?” Y/N asked softly, genuinely curious because she had no idea what to think. She knew that she hadn’t been acting all night and that what they just shared was special, but what did that mean for them? Honestly, it was all I’m Harry’s hands.

“Well...” Harry was quiet, finger tangled in her hair. “I’m thinking about how that was really good. And how your legs are going to feel like jello tomorrow.” He let out a gentle laugh. Y/N was very, very good at riding. And taking spankings. “But mainly about how good that was. Never seen someone who was willing to go through it… like actually be as kinky as they said.” It was an upheld promise and it meant a lot to him, even if the premise was kind of dumb in hindsight. “A lot of people talk up a good game but when it comes to fulfilling promises or doing things they’re asked... it’s always bullshit. Overcompensating. It’s annoying.” He ran his hand over her arm. Y/N had given him a new point of view. “Especially in entertainment. People promise a lot and rarely deliver at all. They’ll introduce you to someone or they’ll call you, or they’re very good at x y z and end up being shit. It’s just hard. Everyone in this industry likes to talk big games. I know it’s a little dumb but, was nice to see someone who lived up to their talk. Also... someone who didn’t mind getting their mouth spit into.”

Y/N giggled are his comments, listening closely as he spoke. Lucky for her, his voice was nice and slow, very relaxing and comforting. She kept going back to the thought of her in her room thinking about doing this one day and here she was. This was the most he had ever opened up to her and she definitely wasn’t taking it for granted. It was a special moment, it felt like a breakthrough. Her heart was swelling three times its original sizes, she swore it. 

“It’s not dumb, it makes sense.” Y/N spoke softly, still tracing his tattoos as a form of soothing him. She laughed at his last comment, taking a second to think before speaking. “I know you were a bit apprehensive about letting me into your life, and maybe you still are, but I do appreciate all the time we get to spend together.” Y/N spoke I’m a small voice, almost scared he’d reject her kindness because he usually did. “You’re a really great guy, Harry.” It was like word vomit, she just had to tell him how she felt without scaring him. Tell him that she liked him, a lot.

Harry’s heart tugged hard. Fuck. He hated that he had to be so distant to her. It was better than the beginning but he knew he was getting too close. Tonight he thought he was going to let himself live in the fantasy world he wanted to be in. 

“Thank you.” He smiled at her. God, she was stunning. He could hear the nerves in her voice and he wasn’t going to be the one to crush her right now. He’d wait at least until the morning to remind her that they shouldn’t be doing this and that it was his fault but he couldn’t. Fuck, even the thought made him want to vomit. this felt so right. Y/N was what he wanted but it was that part of him that was so desperately terrified to get close to people that kept speaking from the back of the head that got him every time. “You are too. Far too good.” Realistically he knew Y/N was good, but that deep rooted fear of being used had him holding on to the reins and not willing to let go of his stupid thought that perhaps she just wanted to be famous. There had been no signs. Nothing. Not promoting her bakery any more than normal, not talking to the media. But he was still hesitant. “You’re very nice to me, Y/N. I know sometimes I don’t deserve it but I appreciate it.”

Y/N closed her eyes, listening to his heart beat relax. She had heard it shift, knowing something must have made him nervous and she decided to ignore it for the time being as just listen to what he was saying to her. He was being nice to her, in a Harry in private type of way. 

“I didn’t think you—” She paused herself, something telling her to be careful with her choice of wording. “I thought you didn’t like me for a really long time... I just wanted you to accept me because I know this situation isn’t ideal.” Y/N explained, “I hoped I could help in any way...” God she was back to being nervous all over again, word vomit just spewing out because she was terrified he wouldn’t speak to her again. She didn’t want to be the clingy girl after sex. She had gotten way too ahead of herself thinking that he actually liked her like that.

“Hey... you’re good.” Harry panicked a little, pulling her closer to him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you nervous.” Damn, he hadn’t wanted Y/N scared. He was just trying to articulate. But he was kind of mean to her. “You’ve been perfect. I know dealing with me hasn’t been easy. I’m not the perfect person and it’s hard for me, too. I’m not good with new people. Or trusting them.” It was so much easier letting fans into the sliver of his life because they’d never truly know him. But Y/N was a scary aspect because she would be close. Know all his secrets. And he would be forced to trust her. “I never didn’t like you.” That much was true. “I don’t trust easily. It’s a bit scary when... when the whole world wants something from you. You never know who it is and who is safe. Who will pop up and ask something of you. There’s differences. It takes me a while to decide if someone is okay. And it was hard because you’ve been thrusted right in the hardest part. But I can tell you that you’ve been the best and the only person I think that can deal with me.” She was a saint for how she put up with him.

Y/N felt a little pang in her heart at his words. It was sentimental and maybe she was a baby because she was going to hold on to these words for the rest of her life, but she didn’t care. It would be those words that would get her through the tough days when he was acting super distant or when she was sad in general. 

“It’s okay, I understand. I never expected to just walk into your life and suddenly be your best mate... I guess my point is I’m glad you trust me enough— enough to do all these things with you.” Y/N said quietly, feeling herself already drifting off into sleep. 

“Night night.” She whispered softly, pressing a soft kiss to his chest once again before feeling herself slip off into dream land. The sex had properly tired her out and she needed some rest.

----

It was weird. Harry got a good night's sleep which was incredibly rare for him. He hadn’t wanted to equate it to the sleepy kitten like girl in his arms but it had to be. 100%. Y/N was snoozing in his arms and it physically pained his chest to get out of bed but he needed some coffee. 

11 am. They’d slept in rather late. Considering they’d been up until probably 4, it made sense though. Now his mind was racing as he started the coffee pot, wondering how he could push Y/N away. He couldn’t become dependent on her. For sleep or sex or affection. Anything. He hadn’t been regretful at all— he loved last night. He wished that his head wasn’t such a mess. But Y/N deserved better than him for a real love. He had trust issues and insecurities and he was a jealous man and the only reason he hadn’t gone out and punched people who hit on her was because he couldn’t. Y/N needed someone emotionally out together. She had a good heart and would probably offer to help him but he needed to tell her it would be better if they just remained distant friends. His thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell— and a slightly embarrassed to be shirtless Harry had to make his way to the door. Thank god he had pulled on sweats.

Y/N woke up shortly after Harry, feeling the warmth missing. Last night was truly incredible and she just hoped to god things stayed okay. Prayed that she didn’t mess things up by sleeping with him. She pouted a bit at the lack of warmth in the bed, but the smell of coffee meant he was most likely downstairs. Aw that’s sweet. She got up and went to pull on his shirt that was laying around from last night, walking down the stairs just as she heard the doorbell ring. 

Huh. That was weird. Was he expecting anyone? Maybe it was Jeff? Regardless, Y/N let her sore legs guide her downstairs only to be met with the sound of a familiar voice. An unwelcome familiar voice. Was it who she thought it was?

Rounding the corner, the identity was confirmed. Kendall fucking Jenner.

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

[part 5]

A/N: oof 🥵🥵🥵 but also a cliff hanger?? the tension!!! you’re in for a bumpy ride

let us know what you think!

masterlist 

[miracle-sham]

Die Like the Butterfly Shoot With Their Guns.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Week 2, Day 7: Guns} |

Chapter 1 of Sheltered by Darkness not yet Moths to the Flame.

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [Spotify Playlist Link] | | [Chapter 2] |

———

| Sometimes a family can be a gang comprised of eleven vigilantes, and their AI robot, fighting against the father of one of their own. |

| Or alternatively: after falling through the cracks, they do what they must to survive. And if that means committing crimes in order to bring down the Big Butterfly and all the other corrupt businesses in the city, then so be it. |

———

| Tonight's the night. Half of them will strike one of the Big Butterfly's warehouses that just so happens to contain some fancy new gun tech. Besides, it'll be in better hands with them than the Big Butterfly or his associates. Now all that matters, is that nothing goes wrong! |

| Word Count: 3,322. |

| Warnings/Tags: Cyberpunk/Criminal/Gang Au, Explicit Language/Swearing, Hacking, Breaking and Entering, Theft, Mentions of Bombs and Guns, Mentions of corrupt/shady businesses, Fluff, Gang/Team as family/family dynamics, Found Family. |

———

| A/N: It is Cyberpunk Au time! This is a twoshot, so have a looksy to see if you can find all the snippets of foreshadowing I've set! Also this is mostly Action/Fluff but beware of the warnings regardless. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

Rain patters against the concrete, sound mixing with the low hum and high buzz of electricity. The ground is slick with murky puddles that never seem to clean the pavement. Still just as filthy as before, permanently dyed with dried bloodstains, mud stains, electric scorch marks, and far worse. The air is heavy with the smell of cigarette smoke, ozone, and that ever underlying decay that clings to the city.

It's dark—dead of night—but the streets are awash with flickering neon lights. There are a few others haunting the street though most of them are sticking to the areas of light, avoiding the shadows.

Which is where Marinette, also known as the ruthless gang leader Fantôminou, is lurking.

Jason—Red Hood, her co-leader—snarls as he drops down onto the shadowed fire escape beside her. “We've got a rat. Someone's tipped off the big Butterfly and security has been increased around the perimeter. Most likely interior security increased too.”

Fantôminou flexes her glowing clawed gauntlets, “I suppose we should check in with our local pied piper, before we strike, hmm?”

There's a bzzt in her earpiece as the channel is hijacked by the familiar voice of their gang's hacker, Max aka Raijack. “I wouldn't worry about that if I were you, our pied piper has already been contacted. Whoever they were, they didn't reveal which location we were targeting, so it's just a general security increase.”

She hums. “Raijack, link us up with the rest of the strike force.”

“Got it, 'Minou.” He responds, and not a split second later, the earpiece makes another bzzt and there's the faint ping of the rest of the channel being alerted at someone joining.

“Look, I think you could totally pull off the—oh, who just joined the channel?” Adrien, Cheval Mallet, asks in surprise.

“Just me and our anthill tiger.” Red Hood announces, snorting at the glare Fantôminou sends him.

Silence echoes across the line before a scrabble of hushed but excited voices causes a ruckus.

Fantôminou sighs, “I know we're all excited to hit the big Butterfly hard by stealing some of their new fancy gun tech. But let's leave the yelling for when we inevitably set off the alarms!”

“Hey!” Raijack protests. “I'll have you know I have produced a new virus that has a ninety-eight per cent chance of not setting off any alarms!”

Red Hood rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but you've still not worked out how to get your viruses to deactivate the bombs in the crates yet, huh?”

“I will one day, until then it's your job to stop the bombs from triggering the rest of the alarms!” Raijack counters with a huff.

Fantôminou sighs again, this time with an added sprinkling of are-you-kidding-me. “Red Hood, Raijack. I can and will kick your asses if you do not shut up so we can discuss final prep before we begin the pesticide protocol.”

Bumping shoulders with her, Red Hood snorts again. “I've got nothing against being beat up by someone as pretty and buff as you Minou, you know that!”

“Oh, I think we can all agree to wanting to get crushed by Minou's guns.” Cheval Mallet pipes up once more.

Fantôminou sighs very wearily. “Nevermind, are you all ready?”

Red Hood salutes at her, and despite his mouth being covered, it's easily telling that he's grinning cockily underneath. “I'm ready. My guns are ready, and I've got the bomb defusal kit at the ready.”

“I may be holding my horses but I'm saddled to giddy-up on the go!” Cheval Mallet cheerfully announces.

“This has to be one of your worst attempts at horse puns yet.” Raijack comments, “otherwise, I'm in position and ready to hack on your call, Minou.”

Red Hood exchanges a glance with Fantôminou as silence falls over the earpiece channel. “Hold up, where's Arsenal? Shouldn't he have checked in by now?”

Taking his hand gently, Fantôminou gives it a reassuring squeeze.

“He already did but because you two had your issues getting into position and avoiding the unexpected police patrol, Arsenal had to deal with another issue that popped up which would've threatened our plan,” Raijack informs, sounding nonplussed.

“Well, you don't sound concerned.” Fantôminou points out the obvious. “Has he got back up?”

There's the faint tapping of a keyboard through the earpiece channel before Raijack responds, “Chèvrapide is on her way to back him up, don't worry.”

“Then that's everyone accounted for. Let's rock and roll.” Red Hood orders, dropping from the fire escape and landing in the rain-slick alleyway with ease, conveniently right beside the hoverbike they had stashed here.

Fantôminou hops down after him, except she manages to flip and expertly land in the driver's seat. “I'm driving Jay, you're the one with the guns after all,” she all but states, putting one gauntleted hand up and flexing just to hammer in the point, “I'm close range only right now and you know it.”

Red Hood throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey! I'd never complain about getting to watch you drive this beauty of a hoverbike.”

Fantôminou snorts. “Just get on, pretty bird!”

“Well, if you say so, pretty kitty!” Red Hood teases back, vaulting onto the back of the bike behind her. He wraps an arm around her waist and rests the other hand on his sheathed-for-now gun.

She revs the engine of the hoverbike and steers out of the alleyway with practised ease. There's no directions on the hoverbike's holoscreen, but it's not like they need any—the directions to where they need to be outside the warehouse have already been memorised by each and every one of them.”

Down the left street, take the right at the T junction, pass under the flyover street, then take a further two lefts and then straight on until the block of office buildings forming a protective extra layer between the warehouse electric razor wire tipped fencing and the road. Easy.

“All networks in the office buildings have temporarily shut down. As far as the tech will be concerned, it'll look like the networks just decided to not work today.” Raijack announces through the earpiece channel, voice coming through slightly more robotic than usual.

“So no security cams?” Fantôminou checks cautiously, circling like a hawk around the small stretch of street between her and the office building she and Jason will be entering through. The rain has slowed to a drizzle but that doesn't make the circling in it any less mildly uncomfortable, at least inside it'll be dry.

There's the familiar clack of keys once more. “Not quite, they're a little harder to crack than entering in through the backdoor via someone's unprotected webcam in the office. Thank you, Shodan.” Raijack pauses, keys continuing to clack in the background. “Unfortunately, the Big Butterfly's got tech security smart enough to keep the security system on a closed network so I can't hop from webcam to computer to network to cams. However, they didn't account for Markov, suckers!”

Red Hood snorts. “Isn't Markov a little obvious for this kinda mission?”

“Oh, did I forget to tell you?” Raijack says, in a voice that very clearly conveys he didn't forget so much as purposefully neglected to mention, “I recently upgraded Markov, outfitting him with the currently most highly advanced cloaking system. Thanks to some help from Fantôminou's knowledge of cloaking and camouflage fashion.”

Red Hood leans his head onto Fantôminou's shoulder. “I'm hurt, you knew and didn't tell me? I want cloaking guns! Think of how much cooler I'd look with them!”

Fantôminou merely hums in an unamused response. “Raijack wanted it to be a surprise.”

He huffs. “I see who your favourite person in our gang is then!”

“You're right! It's me!” Cheval Mallet cheers, jumping into the conversation.

“Fucking 'ell!” Red Hood curses under his breath. “I thought you were gonna mute whilst getting in position.”

Cheval Mallet's laugh cuts in and out across the earpiece channel. “And when did I hay that!”

“Hacker voice, I'm in!” Raijack interrupts. “Looks like the security system was perfectly untouched by whatever minor error caused the main networks to crash, how lucky. Which is to say, looping is in process, and we now have free entry.”

“Got us a place to park yet, though?” Red Hood asks.

Raijack doesn't immediately respond, but the sound of the garage door connected to the office building opening, is answer enough. “I might.”

Fantôminou snorts. “Thanks, Raijack. Hood and I need to split here right, just until we get past the fencing right?”

“That's right.” Raijack responds, “good luck, and Markov and I will see you all on the other side.”

“Break a leg, or three!” Red Hood calls over the earpiece. “Preferably some else's though!”

Fantôminou pulls the hoverbike into the garage, keeping her gaze ahead. “If I could elbow you without fucking up my parking, I would.”

Red Hood cackles quietly in response, trying to at least keep to the stealth part of the mission plan.

In the blink of an eye, the hoverbike is securely parked. Perfectly hidden in plain sight but easily accessible for a quick and clean getaway should nothing go wrong. And well, if something were to go wrong, there's not going to be any hoverbike left for evidence. Though, that's not to say a small part of Fantôminou's brain doesn't anxiously hate how they're practically sitting on top of bombs ready to blow up at the slightest hint of things going wrong. However, they've been through enough strikes like this for the concern to be mostly easily ignored.

———

With the hoverbike parked, Fantôminou and Red Hood part ways.

Fantôminou heads up through the internal stairwell connected to the garage, whilst Red Hood takes one of the external doors leading to the office building next door.

The stairwell is like any other maintenance stairwell. Grey concrete walls, metal railings and steps. Even Fantôminou's light footsteps clang loudly against the ridged metal stairs. It's cold, just as cold as the garage was and barely warmer than it is outside in the rain. The air is stuffy but at least the respirator hidden beneath the bandana wrapped around her mouth makes it bearable to breathe. Other than the aforementioned clanging of steps, and her breathing, Fantôminou is alone with the ominous silence of a liminal space.

The stairs stretch on upwards for what seems far longer than it should, but eventually, Fantôminou reaches the final steps to the roof entrance door.

The door is unlocked, and so Fantôminou opens it as quietly as possible. She walks out into the rain once more and scrunches up her nose. A quick glance of the roof yields no immediate signs of danger or anything of note, so she continues to the edge of the roof.

Fantôminou rests one foot on the lip of the roof and flexes her gauntlets, lights switching off for stealth. Carefully, she turns around and crouches on the lip, gauntlets gripping the edge and toes of her boots braced against the wall. Bit by bit she descends, gauntlets making it more than easy to stay attached to the wall.

Two-thirds of the way down, Fantôminou climbs onto a window sill. The fence is only a metre below, with a further four-metre drop. No security drones in sight, yet—but no alarms have been triggered yet either.

A shadow drops down the building and over the fence on the other side of the compound. Not a second later is the double buzz of the earpiece signalling that someone is in position.

Fantôminou smirks beneath her face coverings, not one to be so quickly outdone she leaps forwards in a dive—spinning midair as she begins to plummet. Clearing the razor wire fence with room to spare.

She hits the ground in another diving roll, and immediately uses the momentum to throw herself up and run towards the nearest warehouse building. As soon as she reaches the wall, she double-taps her earpiece to send the double buzz signal to others.

A moment later comes the third double buzz, soon followed by the fourth and final signal.

“Markov is covering our air support.” Raijack's voice clips across the earpiece channel, “Fantôminou, you and Red Hood are on opposite ends of the same warehouse. I've unlocked the doors for you. You know the drill.”

“Thank you, Raijack. Entering now.” Fantôminou responds, she slinks over to the warehouse doors and cautiously pries open the now unlocked door.

Fantôminou heads straight for the terminal, and knows Red Hood is doing the same. Slipping Raijack's new and improved virus into one of the terminal's ports. Seconds pass.

“Interface secured,” Raijack informs.

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Red Hood prowling over to her. She nods to him and taps into the terminal with her gauntlet.

Red Hood readies his bomb defusal kit as she instructs the internal warehouse drones into delivering the goods to them.

The drone, blinking yellow—a sure sign of Raijack's virus in effect—hovers over and drops a large black cased crate before them.

As soon as the claws of the drone release the crate, Red Hood is immediately on it, pulling it open and weeding out the bomb.

They wait with bated breath. Red Hood tinkers away. The earpiece channel is silent as the team focuses.

He hisses through his teeth, and Fantôminou tenses—ready to grab him and run, in the worst case—but he only packs the kit back away and sighs in relief.

He taps the earpiece thrice—signalling success.

Raijack and Cheval Mallet don't respond, so Fantôminou and Red Hood stuff their haul into Fantôminou's Miraculous, for ease of transport, and begin making their way towards the warehouse the other two were hitting.

By the time they reach the nearest warehouse doors, the earpiece triple buzzes. Success, again.

They pause only to exchange a nod between the two before continuing to meet up with Cheval Mallet and Raijack—no rendezvous needed this time so far.

It takes forty seconds to cross halfway to the other warehouse, where they meet the other two along with Markov in the middle.

Cheval Mallet waves a hand and the five of them skulk over to a small shed off the side of another warehouse. He raises his horseshoe weapon and calls out, “Bon Voyage!”

The portal forms and Markov flies through first. The remaining four exchange glances then bolt forwards, racing to see who can get through first.

The blue light blinds them all for a second, despite how used to the power they are.

“Mission success!” Fantôminou cheers breathlessly once the blue fades, throwing her hands up in celebration.

“WOOH!” Cheval Mallet yells, jumping up and punching the air.

Red Hood snorts, “but more importantly I so won!”

Raijack hums, “let's see what Markov has to say about that.”

Markov makes a series of boops and beeps, yellow LEDs flickering. “Red Hood is correct, he won the portal race.”

“YES!” Red Hood crows.

“Oh come on!” Raijack grumbles.

Footsteps and clapping approaches. “Well done,” Félix praises, “but perhaps leave the celebration until after you've all gotten into jammies.”

Cheval Mallet giggles, “Flicks, I can't believe you can somehow still sound pretentious whilst saying something as childish sounding as "jammies"!”

Félix raises an eyebrow, “you say this every time I call pyjamas that. Now come on, I've ordered pizza and Roy, Alix, Luka, Artemis, Kori, and Bizarro are already waiting for you lot, in the lounge, so we can get the party started.” He turns on his heel and walks out of the utility-changing room.

Markov, as the only one not needing to change, shows the tongue-sticking-out emoji on his LED screen and zooms after Félix.

Jason, Marinette, Adrien, and Max all start changing out of their gear as quickly as possible.

“Oh no!” Adrien gasps, half undressed, suddenly remembering something. “We forgot to take the motorbikes back!”

Marinette groans, “I knew I was forgetting something!"

Facepalming, Jason sighs. “We were all too caught up in everything going well for once.”

Max snorts. “Oh don't worry! I anticipated this, all it took was a little hacking into our hoverbikes and now they're on autopilot to one of our empty storage bases.”

“Oh. Well, that's good then.” Adrien says, looking a little embarrassed.

“Yeah… anyway come on, we don't want to keep your cousin and the others waiting any longer! They'll eat all the pizza!” Marinette exclaims.

They all finish changing into loungewear and pyjamas just as music starts to play from the lounge and so frantically, they all dash towards it, trying to shove each other out of the way and laughing playfully as they do so.

They've won a battle, they've successfully gotten in and out with a good haul of gun tech. No alarms tripped, nothing went wrong. Hoverbikes undamaged and on the route home. For once, everything went smoothly. And that, is cause for an evening of celebration.

Leaving the worries of the rat for tomorrow.

———

In a dark observatory with a closed butterfly window, a folder is tossed across a desk.

Papillon glances down at the folder with indifference. He rests his elbows on the expensive polished wood and steeples his fingers. “You said you had acquired information that you believe will interest me?”

The man in a black suit sitting opposite Papillon, smiles patiently. “My informant went through quite the lengths to acquire this. Why not take a look inside.”

Papillon purses his lips, “this better not be a waste of my precious time, Lex.”

Lex Luthor raises an eyebrow in amusement. “I assure you, Gabriel, you will find what is inside most interesting.”

There's a moment's pause as Gabriel waits. Nothing happens. He nods and then opens the folder. He spreads the papers inside in arc across the desk. In the middle of the papers, is the photo of a smiling teenage girl with bright blue eyes, and blue-dyed hair. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” He reads out, lips curling into a contemplative frown.

“Poor little girl,” Lex croons mockingly, “missing—presumed dead—after her parents' bakery was destroyed in an Akuma attack. Her name should be familiar to you though, won your one-day derby hat competition at her school.”

Gabriel's fingers still mid-steeple, and he moves one hand up to his chin in thought. “Ah yes, I remember that designer. The one with the feather derby whose design was stolen and copied. That signature embroidery was impressive work.” He recounts.

Lex grins, “yes, however most distressingly, it would seem this up and coming star of a designer has lost her glow.”

“How so?” Gabriel responds, furrowing his brows.

“Well you see, my informant has found… evidence, that our poor little designer here fell through the cracks into the shadows after the loss of her parents and bakery. It's rather obvious that the larvae have taken her as their own, some of their masks and clothes fit perfectly with what we know of her unique incorporation of her signature, as well as stitch work.” Lex explains, waving a hand towards the rest of the photographs and documents spread from the folder.

Gabriel frowns and eyes a few of the other papers with interest. “I see, that is most unfortunate.”

“But.” Lex cuts in before Gabriel can say anything more. “I'm well aware you're plenty familiar with fixing larvae with damaged wings and frayed wires. As such, a strange little cold case brimming with potential for your program, would do quite nicely for your collection, wouldn't you say?” Lex insinuates, rising from his seat as he continues, “rescue the poor larvae, craft it a chrysalis, and nurture the Pupa into something radiant. Not unlike what you did with the Macrothylacia Rubi, and your replacement wife.” With that, Lex smiles smugly down at Gabriel and then strides out of the observatory, not giving Gabriel a chance to respond.

And leaving Papillon to the folder and his musings.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

| Behind the Names: Fantôminou is a portmanteau of Fantôme (Ghost/Phantom) and Minou (Kitty). And she's called that because I thought the Black Footed cat fit her, and they're nicknamed Anthill Tigers. They also have the highest successful hunting rate! |

| Raijack is a portmanteau of Raiju (lightning dragon) and jack plug (the connect-y bit on headphones into a phone for example) but is also a play on the word Hijack. |

| Cheval Mallet is an evil horse spirit that offers rides to weary travellers and kidnaps them. Yes, there is a reason behind this. It's covered in Chap 2 |

| Chèvrapide is a portmanteau of Chèvre (Goat) and Rapide (Fast). |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I’ll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

[mollymauk-teafleak]

The Problem with Magic Markers

Soooo Critical Role campaign 2 just ended, I've got major brain rot over it and my wonderful gf gave me a wonderful idea for a fic so! This happened! A gift to @spiky-lesbian who came up with this adorable concept and is just generally an all round wonderful person who deserves the world. Also huge thanks to my ever patient, ever helpful beta reader @minky-for-short

If you liked it too, please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3!

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Mollymauk is so proud of Caleb in so many ways and, now they have their lovely lives with their wonderful children, he finds more reasons to be every day.

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Mollymauk Tealeaf had learned many things since he’d become a parent, now five years ago. A short amount of time, he’d used to think, but plenty of time to obtain a lot of knowledge you never thought you were ever going to need in your life.

Like how sandwiches cut into triangles were disgusting but sandwiches cut into squares could be eaten by the hundreds. Like how to make a bath appealing to a toddler with the liberal addition of bubble bath and a willingness to get absolutely soaked playing Sharks with them. Like how a scraped knee and bumped forehead could be cured with his cuddles and kisses alone, like how a promise from him that everything was going to be okay was enough to make it so.

And how silence was very, very worrying.

So when Mollymauk walked past his son and daughter’s room and heard only silence, when he knew for a fact they were in there, he stopped dead. He put any thoughts of getting to go and spend some time with his sewing kit out of his mind. Because he’d been a parent long enough to know that something was up, two five year olds weren’t that silent unless some game was afoot, something they didn’t want their parents to know about. Which meant he should probably at least poke his nose in.

So he knocked lightly on their door, the one covered in whichever drawings they were most proud of that week and a hand painted sign Jester had made for them the day they were born, prettily proclaiming ‘Trinket and Una’s Room!’ amongst a flock of miniature unicorns.

“Sweetlings?” he called gently, “Mind if I come in?”

There was a sudden scrabbling from behind the door and he heard a muffled grunt from Una before Trinket answered hurriedly, “Um...yes! Okay daddy!”

Raising a curious eyebrow, Molly pushed the door back, disturbing the usual scattering of toys left on the floor like the aftermath of a felt based battle. Although it did seem like there was more mess than usual…

Trinket stood in the middle of the room between their two little beds, his backpack at his feet and an expression of perfect innocence on his face that was just a little too polished to be anything but an act. Molly had to admit he’d probably learned that from him.

“Well hello there, little man,” he leaned in the doorway, smiling crookedly, “What game are we playing today?”

Trinket shuffled his feet, “Um...packing?”

“That sounds like a fun game,” Molly’s gentle concern upgraded to full blown wariness, “And where’s your sister?”

Trinket turned a deeper shade of purple, looking down at his fidgety feet that were poking more holes in his innocence by the second, “Um...she...um…”

Which was the point Una helpfully chose to poke her little head out of the backpack, dark eyes blinking curiously and ears flapping, trilling, “Here daddy!”

Trinket flushed guiltily, frowning at her, “Una! I said you had to stay shh!”

Molly took a breath, wandering over to sit down on Trinket’s bed. As his eyes swept around the room, he noted a great deal more chaos in the room. Almost like someone had been going through the toy box and the drawers and bookshelves, hurriedly pulling things out, making quick decisions about what to abandon and what to stuff into a little blue, dinosaur patterned backpack. Molly supposed he should at least be grateful that Trinket saw his sister as worth taking.

“Why don’t you talk to me, babies?” he offered gently.

Trinket swallowed, eyes darting around nervously before the last of the fight went out of his narrow little shoulders and he mumbled, “Daddy...can I tell you a secret?”

Molly had to smile. This was almost a running joke between the three of them, his kids running up excitedly to tell him they had a secret for him before whispering into his ear about some apparently very cool bug they’d seen or that Uncle Caddy had snuck them an extra cookie or that he was the best daddy ever. He loved being brought into their world where everything was brighter and more exciting and there was fun to be found in the smallest things. And where everything was felt so much more keenly.

“Of course you can, sweetling,” he murmured gently, patting the bed beside him, “You can always tell me secrets. Whatever it is, I promise we can make it better together.”

As Una rolled out of the backpack, apparently unconcerned and rather enjoying herself, Trinket clambered up beside him and stood so he could whisper into his ear. Molly tucked his purple curls behind one ear, smiling encouragingly.

Voice already trembling, Trinket leaned in and murmured, “I messed up Papa’s coat.”

Molly absorbed that in silence, feeling his son’s anxious red eyes on him. He leaned back, keeping his face carefully neutral before taking a long, deep breath through his nose, marshalling his thoughts.

“Trinket, I’m not going to lie to you here. We might be in trouble.”

His opinion didn’t change when he actually saw the coat. The coat his husband had been wearing as long as he’d known him and refused to be regularly seen without, no matter how many attempts Molly had made to buy him a newer, less ragged, less musty smelling version. It was more a comfort blanket than just clothing, stained and scorched from numerous spells and spills, old leather worn shiny from overuse. He hadn’t said so in so many words but it didn’t take a genius to guess that Caleb had worn it since before he came to the city. Which meant it had probably come from his parents. And though it was old and faded and stained today, it must have been new when he got it, a costly garment for people like the Ermendruds. The sort of gift that would only be given if your only son was leaving home to join the Academy and wanted to show him how proud you were.

A lot of Caleb’s life was like that. Even as his husband, Molly found himself having to piece things together from passing comments and turns of phrase, things that dulled his love’s eyes and tightened his jaw. Molly had about a quilt and a half’s worth of assumptions and semi-finished anecdotes by this point, telling of a sad and fractured timeline.

But he knew enough to see what the coat meant to Caleb and the place it held in his husband’s black and white, yes or no, yours and mine way of thinking.

The coat that now had a minor gallery’s worth of doodles and drawings scribbled in magic marker across the sleeves and all the way down the back. And if he wasn’t comfortable with Molly washing the thing, he wasn’t going to be okay with this.

Trinket had been fretfully watching his daddy since he’d first pulled the coat out from where he’d guiltily stashed it under his bed. As Molly’s mutely horrified silence dragged on, he only became more and more anguished until he was barely in tears, wringing his tail between his pudgy fists.

“I only wanted to make it pretty,” he whimpered, “Papa will hate me. I won’t be his special boy any more.”

Molly looked up at him, reaching out and putting his hand on Trinket’s shoulder, “Oh sweetling, your papa loves you a lot, you know this isn’t going to change that.”

But he couldn’t stop thinking about the times he’d picked up a pen from Caleb’s desk without thinking much of it, doodling with it until he’d looked up to see his husband gaping at him in scandalised horror. Or the times he’d stolen sips from Caleb’s drink when they were at the cafe, the same way he’d do to any of his friends, but Caleb would frown if he caught him, unable to understand why Molly was taking his coffee?

It was just part of the way his brain functioned, the rules it spat out after absorbing years of poverty and trauma, along with some different wiring that had simply occurred naturally. Mollymauk had learned a long time ago how to fondly work with these Caleb-isms, making concessions where it was best to and encouraging his wizard to gentle the restrictions his brain built when he needed to. It was like tending some kind of creeping vine in a garden, the way he saw it. Sometimes things needed moving aside so it could flourish and sometimes it needed pruning so it didn’t strangle the flowers around it. Caleb had been as brave as Mollymauk could have wished in managing his idiosyncrasies and sometimes he just had to sit back and admire how different the Caleb he lived with today was from the anxious, mumbling wizard he’d first met.

But how much patience he’d be able to muster when it was one of his favourite things in the world, Molly couldn’t say. But he wasn’t looking forward to telling him about it.

“Should I go?” Trinket’s lower lip wobbled, glancing back at his half packed bag, which Una was back inside, the front half this time as she munched away on some snack he must have stashed in there.

“Absolutely not, your papa would never want that,” Molly squeezed his shoulder gently, “We’re going to put the coat in to soak so we can get all this ink out and then we’re going to find him and I’ll tell him what’s happened. But you need to be the one who says sorry, okay?”

Trinket nodded frantically, still clinging onto his tail for comfort, “I am sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

“I know, buddy,” Molly drew him close and hugged him tight, hating to see him so upset, “But we’ll be laughing about this before long, you’ll see.”

Maybe if he said it confidently enough, he’d start to believe it too.

Caleb wasn’t hard to find for a number of reasons. For one, their apartment was very small and there were only a handful of rooms to look in. But more importantly, it was late afternoon on a day where Caleb didn’t have any reason to go down to the Academy and fulfill his duties as an adjunct professor and when his bookshop was closed, as it was once a week. Which meant there was only one place he would be, in his half of their spare room, either playing one of his video games or reading.

Molly wasn’t quite sure what they’d do when one of their kids decided they wanted their own room and were tired of sharing, meaning Caleb would have to store his books and he’d have to store his sewing somewhere else. Or if they had another kid. He’d been toying with that idea in the back of his mind lately.

Maybe best not to float that idea with Caleb right after this.

Mollymauk could feel Trinket in his arms, his offer to pick him up and carry him having been immediately, breathlessly accepted. He could sense him getting more tense, more anxious, growing heavier against him as Molly knocked lightly on the door.

“Ja, come in,” Caleb’s response was immediate, not even needing to ask who it was or having to pause over whether he wanted to see them.

When Molly went in, Caleb was in the old, ratty wingback chair they’d liberated from some sidewalk when they’d first moved in, Molly announcing teasingly that a future professor needed some grand leather throne from which to smoke a pipe and pontificate. Caleb had blushed and rolled his eyes, not even believing back then that one day he would get the job he’d always dreamed of having, thinking trauma and past hurts had stolen it from him.

So now Molly always got a small flush of pride when he saw his Caleb sitting in that chair.

His hair was getting a little longer these days, it’s auburn tangles pulled into a small knot at the crown of his head so it wouldn’t fall in his eyes. His beard was growing a little thicker too, more than the usual rusty shadow that dusted his jawline. Molly absolutely was not going to be complaining about any of that, he liked his husband looking a little more rough around the edges like when they’d first met.

As soon as he saw them, Molly with Trinket balanced on one hip, Caleb’s face lit up with a smile. His smiles had been rare once upon a time but now just the sight of his family was enough.

“Hello,” he set the book he’d been reading to one side, already expecting Trinket to want to sit on his lap like always, “How are my loves?”

Near Molly’s ear, Trinket whimpered mournfully and pressed his face against his daddy’s neck. It was more than an ache to listen to, Trinket idolised his papa, following him around whenever he could, listening devotedly as he explained his work even when it wandered far off the track that his little mind could understand. Molly had no doubt the attempt to brighten up his coat had been a genuine attempt to make him smile and he couldn’t imagine how much it was hurting his little boy, to think he’d upset the man he looked up to more than anyone.

Caleb’s smile dulled a little, seeing Trinket hesitate, immediately realising they weren’t here for playtime, “What’s wrong?”

Molly exhaled slowly, carefully keeping his voice calm and level, “It’s okay babe, Trinket just...did something he wants to apologise for.”

“Oh?” Caleb frowned a little, eyes still fixed on Trinket, arms still open.

Molly opened his mouth, ready to do the hard part but before he could, Trinket bolted upright and tearfully burst out, “I wanted to make your coat pretty because you always like my pictures and I thought you could take them everywhere not just in your pockets but I made a mess and I’m so sorry papa! I’m really sorry!”

For a moment both of his parents were a little stunned, not quite sure what to say as his rambles tapered off into spluttery sobs. Molly warily glanced at Caleb, looking for any change in his blank, closed off expression, any flicker of discomfort, even anger.

After a few beats, ones that felt longer than usual, Caleb only nodded, getting to his feet. Gently, he reached over and put a gentle hand on his son’s face, catching some of the tears dribbling down his cheek on his thumb.

“Little Kätzchen, it’s alright,” he murmured softly, “Please don’t cry.”

Trinket sniffled, blinking blearily, “You’re not angry? Don’t want me to go away?”

Caleb’s eyebrows shot up in alarm, “No! Oh, Trinkie, absolutely not. I’d never want that.”

“But…” Trinket’s eyes were wide, hopeful, wanting to take this relief being offered but hesitant to, “It’s your favourite thing in the whole wide world…”

Caleb chuckled quietly, his smile back with all it’s warmth as he leaned in and kissed his forehead.

“Kätzchen, you and your sister are my favourite thing in the whole wide world.”

Molly nearly yelped in panic as he felt the weight of Trinket suddenly leave his arms before realising his son had thrown himself at Caleb, locking his arms around him tightly. He didn’t doubt for a moment that his husband would catch him, only smiling fondly as he gathered Trinket close and buried his face in his hair.

“It’s all okay,” Caleb whispered against the rust red curls he’d given their son, “It’s okay, little one.”

Molly let them have their moment, letting Trinket cry the last of his tears out happily against his papa’s chest, hanging back and feeling his heart thudding warmly against his ribs. Eventually he was their beaming, bright little boy again, if a little damp, wriggling down from Caleb’s arms determinedly after one last little kiss against his papa’s cheek.

“I’m gonna make you a sorry card. The best sorry card ever,” he promised Caleb, already toddling towards the door, “It’s gonna have glitter.”

“Wow, that kid is definitely my son,” Molly observed wryly once his little lavender tail had disappeared around the corner.

“Then you can clean up the mess he’s definitely about to make,” Caleb chuckled, moving into his husband’s arms.

“Hey,” Molly kissed the crown of his head gently, “Well done. I know that must have been hard for you and...I’m really proud of you.”

He couldn’t see it but he could hear the coy smile in his voice, “Well...I meant what I said. Some coat is never going to be more important to me than my kids.”

Molly smiled knowingly, “I know baby….but you know, if you want to scream into that cushion for a little while, that’s okay too?”

There was a short pause before he felt Caleb’s shoulders drop in relief.

“Thank you, Katze…”

“Is it done yet?”

Molly had to fight a smile. He’d explained to Caleb that soaking his coat would take exactly thirty minutes, knowing his husband fixated on time easily, but still he asked every five minutes on the dot. He’d expected nothing less.

“Not just yet, babe,” he repeated, as he had all of those other times, looking up from the laundry they’d been folding so Caleb would have an excuse to hover anxiously in the laundry room, over the tub of hot soapy water and a little rubbing alcohol his coat was submerged in, “Soon though.”

Caleb gave a small grunt, poking a finger into the water curiously like it was some potion he was working over. After a moment, before Molly could turn back to folding the clothes, he frowned.

“This sleeve isn’t in the water…”

Molly’s smile turned crooked, coming over and putting a hand on Caleb’s before he could move the one sleeve into the tub, “I thought maybe you’d want to look at it...decide if you want to keep that one.”

Caleb blinked, not understanding until he turned it a little and saw the drawing his Trinket had chosen to adorn the sleeve with. It was done in bright red, standing clearly against the dark fabric, unmistakable a child’s drawing. There were four figures there, two taller and two smaller. The first had a set of horns drawn a little too large for it’s head, as well as a tail. The second had a long scarf and a scrawled head of shoulder length hair. The next was much smaller, with another set of horns and a tail but the same scribbled hair. And the last was tiny, with voluminous ears and spikes on the end of it’s fingers. All of them had immense smiles and held hands, a lopsided love heart hovering above them.

As the other scribbles and swirls turned into formless ink in the water, Caleb held this one like it was the most precious thing he’d ever seen in his life.

“Yeah,” he murmured, smiling softly, “I think this one can stay.”

[whitelionspirit]

Pale Fire: Strange Habits

Pairng: Ace x Reader

Series: Modern au of the life of Ace and the reader.

Scenario: Over the last several weeks Ace has been huddling up in your room. It doesn’t help that your feelings for him have been solidified for a while now.

wc: 2.6k

warning: non just fluff and unsure feelings

a/n: It is here! The first part of this series I talked about a few weeks ago. Here a little bit about it if you missed x . This is not in order of events the story all comes together in different peeks into their lives

After another exhausting day at work and checking up on some assignments, you were ready for bed. Your usual bed stealer was already tucked into the cozy corner near the wall. His soft snores were your only indications that he was asleep. How you had ended up in this arrangement, you weren't sure anymore. Though it didn't bother you as the man was a walking heater. So in the dead of winter, you could care less as he kept you extremely warm.

Yawning, you close your laptop and move from your desk, and head towards the bed. Running a hand through your hair, you sit down on the edge of the bed. Leaning forward, you click off the desk lamp until the room is dark.

Crawling under the covers, you sighed happily at the warm feeling surrounding you; it was comforting. Shifting onto your side, you faced the wall where Ace was soundly still asleep.

You could easily make out his figure due to the street lights coming in from outside, making the room visible. He was laying on his stomach, hugging the pillow to his chest as his bareback was exposed to you.

You had known for a while that you had feelings for him, but you were too afraid to say anything to him. Perona had been on you lately about it, especially since Ace had been spending more time sleeping in your bed than his own in the last few weeks.

Why exactly, you weren't sure, but it didn't bother you much. He did love to be around you a lot, and you learned early on that he stripped in his sleep. It was a bit embarrassing at first, but you came to expect it throughout your friendship. Tonight was one of those rare times where he had kept his boxers on.

You smiled fondly at the memories as you continue to stare at the rise and fall of his back. Your eyes shifted downwards to the ink that littered his backside. What once was a skull and crossbones was now half a tattoo and a large amount of scarring. While you knew the story behind it as it happened before you even met the man. The sight of it made you emotional for some reason; Ace didn't like talking about it very much. Not that you blamed him, it was a horrific accident that left him very badly hurt with side effects even today.

The loud snore broke through the silence, making you freeze at the noise. You snorted as Ace's breathing went back to normal as he shifted slightly towards you.

Feeling content, you finally snuggled down into the covers and closed your eyes. Sleep finally overtook you as the day's events caught up with you finally.

Hot.

It was overwhelming and itchy, as if your whole body was on fire and unable to get away from it. Your mind raced as the intensity continued until something hard punctured it making it burst open. Your eyes fly open in a rush as you sit up with a start. Heart racing, you placed a hand on your heated skin to only cringe at the slick wetness that came off of you. Looking down, you noticed your body and T-shirt are soaked with your sweat. Still trying to catch your breath, you stare off into the still dark room.

You couldn't have been asleep for long, but what was that strange feeling you had never felt before. Your eyes finally adjusted again as you turn your head towards Ace. Who had somehow rolled over in his sleep and was now wrapped tightly around your body.

Well, that explains that issue. You supposed the man was still sound asleep as his arms tightened on your waist. The heat that radiated off of him was a lot. His leg was hooked over your thigh as he snored softly into your pillow.

"You are such a pain, Portgas, you know that?" You mumbled as you tried your best to settle back into the sheets ignoring the damp clothing you wore with the older man clinging to you like a monkey.

He didn't reply, but you took his snoring as a sign that he could care less. Closing your eyes again, you drift back off, not to be disturbed too.

...

The following morning was a noisy one but having lived in the house for almost over a year now, you grow used to it. Rolling over in your still half-asleep state, your eyes blur, not fully awake as you stare at the wall. The fuck how did you end up on the opposite side of the bed this time. Rolling back over, you noticed that your usual bed companion was nowhere to be seen.

Weird.

He must have gotten up already, which was odd for him. Ace usually slept in late on Sunday, but it seems today was a rare occasion when he didn't. Grabbing for your phone, the screen lights up to show it is a little past noon.

A little later than your own wake-up time but the little extra sleep was nice. Pushing the covers off yourself and getting out of the bed heading to the bathroom. After relieving yourself, you head down the stairs and into the chaos. The excited chatter of Luffy and Perona could be heard as you enter the kitchen. They don't pay you any mind as Luffy excitedly leans over the kitchen island and watches your best friend cook away.

The sight was very comical as Perona tried to push Luffy away, who was happily drooling at the presence of the sizzling meat. Giggling, you open up the fridge and grab for the jug of orange juice; shaking the container, you close the fridge behind you.

"Oh, (name) finally up, I see," Perona said, looking over at you.

Smiling at her, you open up the cabinet next to you and grab for a cup. "Yeah, guess I needed the extra sleep." You replied, turning back to them and pouring your drink.

"Well, I'm glad you came down when you did because I could use your help with cooking. No one else is around yet, so I decided to make a big brunch for everyone." She said as she cracked a few more eggs into another pan.

"You are so awesome, Perona!" Luffy said as he sat on the counter with a smile on his face.

You smiled at the sight even though this situation was a relatively regular one in your home. It always warms your heart because growing up, your luck with long-lasting friendships wasn't the greatest. So living here with some fantastic people made you emotional at times.

"So I see Ace slept in your room again last night." You froze at your friend's words as she peeked over at you from behind Luffy.

A guiltily blush crept its way up to your face. You looked away from her and stared into the living room. "Ugh yeah, he did; it's no big deal, just used to it." You mumbled.

"I see," she said slyly, making your face burn hotter with embarrassment.

"That's pretty normal for Ace. I think he's always clung to people that make him comfortable. He did a lot of that when we were kids and later with Deuce and Marco. Though for a while, he didn't think after his last relationship, which ended pretty badly, especially after the accident." He trailed off for a moment. "With you, for some reason, he started doing it again, but I'm glad we were all worried about him." Luffy grinned at you.

You were stunned. Ace had never mentioned anything before, not that you should be surprised. Despite his easy-going and friendly persona, Ace was relatively private on some matters of his life. Which never bothered you because you knew with time if it was necessary, he would tell you eventually.

"I wasn't aware, but I'm glad he feels so comfortable with me. I feel the same about him. He makes me feel secure, I suppose, is the right word."

Luffy looked at you thoughtfully and looked away, but you caught a hint of a smile anyway.

"Speaking of Ace, where is he? He wasn't in bed when I got up."

"Oh, he went for a morning run with Sabo. Well, I guess more of a late morning run. They should be back soon, though. Better start this before I have to listen to them whine about food again." Perona rolled her eyes, making you laugh at the image.

It was a ubiquitous experience in the shared home of the three brothers with bottomless pits. It was a good thing that Ace and Sabo had such good-paying jobs that they could have tons of extra food. Grabbing an apron from the hanger, you tied it around your waist and held for a mixing bowl, and started cracking eggs.

Both You and Perona moved in sync around the kitchen while dodging Luffy's grabby hands. The time passed quickly as you both finished making the feast just as the front door opened. The loud chatter of both older men caught your attention as you platted another stack of pancakes.

Looking over at your pink-haired friend you both shared the same thought as you both stepped away from the food. Just as both Sabo and Ace came stumbling in at the sight of the food. Just like wild beasts, all three brothers are divided in for their shares. You shook your head at their antics as a tap at your shoulder had you turning around.

Holding up a plate of food, Perona smiled at you as she headed it over. A smile spread across your face at her offering; grabbing it, you happily started to eat it.

"Thank, Rona yove the beth." You yell even though she barely heard you with your face stuffed and all.

She rolled her eyes at your display but smiled anyway. A sudden presence had you looking up at an arm circled your shoulders, pulling you into someone's chest. You gasped at the action but quickly recoiled at the smell and tried to tear away, but the grip was tight.

"(Name)!!" Ace mumbled as he swallowed his food.

"Acccce!" You whined as he held you closer to his sweat-soaked chest.

"(Name)!!!" He responded back teasingly.

You pouted as he snickered and kissed your cheek affectionately, making your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

"Ok, lovebirds, take it somewhere else; we're trying to eat here," Sabo said as he gestured to the other three in the room, a grin playing at his lips.

You groaned and pushed Ace off of you as you grabbed your plate and joined the others at the table. Ace just laughed and followed you as he sat across from you. As you started eating again, Sabo spoke between mouthfuls of food and told a story.

You didn't hear half of it, but it was something about running into Zoro on their run from what you gathered. From the way Luffy was in hysterics, you knew the man had probably gotten lost again. It made you laugh at the image of him getting frustrated as he ran back and forth through the local town. Most people knew who he was as this was a constant habit, so that alone was funny enough.

After you were done eating, you helped to shove the boys out of the kitchen so you could clean.

"Go shower. You all smell!" You finally said, making them groan and protest.

You glared at them all, making the three boys shut up and stare at you before quickly saying sorry and scrambling up the stairs. The sight of them trampling over one another was entertaining and made you smile as you headed back into the kitchen.

…

You heaved a heavy sigh as you flopped down onto your bed; after finishing the kitchen, you had returned to your room. Knowing you would be waiting for the shower for a while, you decided to lay down. Rolling over, the three large windows greet you. They were currently blocking out the light making the room darker than it would usually be.

Lately, you weren't sure of anything between school, your job, and being an adult, in general, was enough to make you restless. Though the constant unsolved resolve in your mind was this deal with Ace. You cared for him so much, but the thought of destroying your close friendship is what stopped you from pushing further.

Turning on your stomach, you hugged the nearest pillow to your chest, which you realized had been the pillow Ace slept on. Closing your eyes, you bury your face into the soft fabric. The smell of smoke and cologne came off of it. It was all Ace, and it was soothing to have the familiar scent lulling you into euphoria. Between the warmth coming from the heater and the pillow you hugged, you dozed off pretty quickly.

The dipping of the bed alerted you from your half-asleep state as someone sat down beside you. You blinked your eye open more, making your whine softly. Rolling over, you are given the sight of Ace sitting hunched over on your bed as he pulled his blue sweatshirt off his head. Leaving him in a yellow shirt. He tossed it onto the floor, which made you roll your eyes at his carelessness.

Ace ran a hand through his still-damp hair and casually scooted himself back on the bed as he laid down next to you. He laid on the opposite side to you, so he was facing you upside down, his back to the wall this time.

"Hi," he said, smiling at you softly.

"Hello, intruder," you mumble, your face still buried in the pillow you were now hugging to your chest.

He laughed. "Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you," he says with not a hint of remorse in his words.

You snorted.

"Right, because you are sorry every other time."

He shrugged his shoulders, continuing to smile at you, but this time his eyes had this gentle look in them you hadn't seen before. The look alone made you avert your gaze as your cheeks heated. You tried to not think of what that could mean exactly. The last few weeks had really been weird with him in general. The clinging, bed-sharing, soft looks, and just no boundaries at all at this point, which you were used to anyway, especially with Luffy, but this was different.

"Hey…..Ace, can I ask you something?"

You looked at him again; his brown eyes bore into yours.

"Sure, what is it?"

Closing your eyes, your grip on the pillow tightened, taking a deep breath, and you looked at him again. His lips pulled into a frown.

"It's nothing. Just wanted to know if you would take a nap with me?"

A huge grin split across his face at the gesture, and he happily sat up and grabbed you around the waist.

"Always (Name)!" He wrapped the blankets around you both and swaddled you into his chest. A giggle left you as you situated yourself in his grasp until you were comfortable. A sweet silence befalls you both as you settle into each other's warmth. After a while, you knew he was asleep from his soft snores near your ear.

You weren't sure when you would finally confine him about your feelings. For now, you were content with this strange arrangement you both had and were happy to continue it for a little while longer.

[abby-abs]

finding the light pt 2

Summary: some time have passed and Y/N and Abby grown close since her and Lev’s arrival to Catalina. Lev sees the obvious tension between them but they don't. 

An: Im so sorry that this took so long my life has been hectic with classes and my mom having surgery in September. There is gong to have a part three i have some ideas floating around in my head. An extra big thanks to @swatlesbian​, @rianncreates​, and @ice-cream-monster-truck​ for encouraging me to write a  part two and being so patient about it. Love you all. Enjoy. 

If you’d like Read pt one here

“Abby do you like y/n?” Lev asks out of nowhere.

“Yeah, of course I do she’s my friend.”

“No, not like that, I mean like like”

“I don’t know what you mean”

Really? I may have been raised in a cult but I can tell. You act weird around her, all jumpy and nervous.

“Pff no I don’t.”

“It’s been three months Abby! there’s clearly something there!” lev says frankly.

There was a knock on the door

I got it” she says before rushing to the door opening it to see y/n standing there. “Y/n hey what are you doing here.” She lifts her arm to lean against the door frame but misses it completely causing her to stumble. Y/n laughs.

“Nice to see that you're still a dork.”

“ Yeah well, somethings never change I guess.” She could feel Lev rolling his eyes at them. Which he did.

“Some of the other fireflies are going more inland to have a bonfire and I wanted to see if you two wanted to come.”

“Yeah sounds fun.” She turns towards lev. “What do you think lev.”  

“Yeah, sure.”

“Great we’ll leave in a little bit.”

Both y/n and Abby grab some snacks and a blanket for you three to sit on.

“Got everything you need?” Abby asks and y/n nods and lev gives a cheerful “yup”

Y/n gets in the driver's side. When they get there the sun is beginning to set, creating beautiful hues of purple, pink, and orange in the sky. They spread out their blanket far enough away from anyone else to have some privacy.

“Look what I have for dessert” Y/n opens up the basket and takes out three slices of her famous honey cake. Lev’s eyes go wide, he absolutely loved y/n’s honey cake.

“Fresh honey cake from the honey that I harvested yesterday. Oh and.” She pulls out two bars of beeswax soap “it’s the citrus kind that you both like, and also citrus candles.”

“Y/n you don’t have to give us all this.”

“Yes, I do. Let me spoil my two favorite people. Anyways I wanted to give you two first dibs before I end up running out. There’s also a jug of honey mead that has your name on it, Abby, just have to wait for it to finish brewing.”

“Your so sweet y/n,” Abby says

“Like honey,” Lev adds and they laugh.

“ why don’t you guys come over sometime, I can show you how I make all these things and care for the bees”

“Sure that sounds awesome.” He turns to Abby “is that the right word Abby?” She smiles at him.

“Yeah, that’s right kid.” She says then looks back at Y/N. “Im gonna ave to start calling you honey bee.” she says. This makes Y/N’s face burn up, she hides her face by looking down.

The moment was interrupted when some kids that Lev made friends with at school come over to the blanket.

“Hey Lev we wanted to know if hang out with us.” They boy who Abby remembers his name to be Graham asks. Lev looks at them waiting for approval.

“You can go but just make sure you don’t get home too late okay. Graham I’m expecting your mom to drive you guys back to town yes?” Abby’s tone is stern. He nods still afraid of her even after countless of times Lev told him not to be. Abby gives Lev the key in the rarity of him getting  home before her. “have fun kid.”

He nods before saying. “Y/n make sure she doesn’t eat my honey cake. I still don’t forgive her for the last time.”

“You got it. I’ll guard it with my life.” She says.

Lev leaves leaving you two alone to stargaze. You both lay on your backs looking up at the starry night sky.

“Look at you being mama bear Abs. Setting curfews for Lev to be home by.” Y/n teases “it’s a good look on you.”

“Well, I know the island is relatively safe but I still get paranoid at times.”

“Yeah, I know. I can’t believe you ate the kid's cake though. You know how much he loves it.”

“I told him I was sorry. I wonder what I can do for him to forgive me .”

“Maybe not eat his honey cake for starters.”

“But it’s so good.” she coos.

“if we were together I’d make an endless supply of honey cakes’ is what  y/n wanted to say.

“All this talk of my cake and your not even going to eat the slice I gave you?” Y/N quipped.

“All right all right.” abby sits up and eats some of the cake “mm. you out done yourself again. This is amazing.”

“You wanna know the secret ingredient?”

Abby squints her eyes. “What?”

“honey” She says and abby groans at her bad joke.

“that was horrible.” abby says making Y/N laugh.

“Shush, i know you loved it

Yeah I do

“What was that. Did I just hear you say you love my corny jokes” y/n raises her brows in surprise.

Don’t push it

Whatever you say

Abby wraps up what’s left of her slice and puts it into the basket

They both end up laying on your sides facing each other, Abby moves hair out of Y/N’s face. You shiver at the cool breeze

“Are you cold?”

“No, it’s fine.” Y/n answers trying to conceal her slight shivering.

“Here take my sweater.” She offers, taking off her sweater. Her shirt underneath lifts slightly to expose Abby’s toned stomach. Y/n bites her lip trying hard not to stare.

“Abby it’s fine, I’m fine really.”

“Y/n if you don’t take this sweater I’m gonna make a scene and everyone here will think we’re crazy.“

Y/n laughs “fine only because I don’t want anyone to know I’m friends with a psychopath.” Y/n sits up and puts on her sweater. It was warm and it smelt like the citrus soap she had made and gave her. Y/n laid back down scooting up next to her more warmth. Abby took this as an opportunity to drape an arm over her waist. This started to become a thing between them, they’d find themselves cuddling together on the couch or bed practically clinging onto each other. As if, if they’d be separated again not saying anything, the comfortable silence. Lev would catch them in these situations and think ‘how can they be so oblivious’. But for y/n and Abby they did it for comfort and security.  They could stay like this for hours, comfortable silence as they lay in each other’s arms. It was just too bad that they oblivious to even notice there feelings.

“Abby.” Y/n says breaking the silence

“Hm?” She hums

“We should get going, it’s getting late and cold.” Y/n suggests

“Yeah, your right.” You yawn to her response “I’m getting pretty tired.” You both pack up and she shakes off the blanket before wrapping you up

“Abby no it’s you I’m worried about.” She tries to push the blanket away.

“You don’t need to be. I’m fine, I run hot.”

“I don’t care, now put on the blanket before I make a sense.” Y/n imitates her from before.

Abby sighs in defeat “ here let’s do this.” She unwraps y/n and drapes the large blanket over both their shoulders.

“As clever as always.” Y/n comments

“Wouldn’t say the same thing for you.”

Y/n looked at her with fake offense.

“Excuse you!” Y/n scoffs

“I’m kidding”  

“Your not funny you know.” She says bumping her shoulder.

“So I’ve been told.” She chuckled

Y/n picked up the basket and walk back carefully not to drop the blanket. Abby keeps the blanket around her as you drive then gets out and grabs the basket this time. She throws an arm around y/n’s shoulder engulfing her in the blanket again. Once at the, you go to open it but notice that you forgot to grab your keys. Catalina is a safe place but she just felt safer if she locked the door while not being there, especially with all her merchandise in there.  

“Crap I’m locked out” y/n jiggles the door nob with no avail.  

“I’m having a 'you were right moment.'” Abby says

“Says who?“ you put a hand on your hip.

“Says me.”

“About what, may I ask.”

“About you being a knucklehead sometimes.” She answers back

“Well, I was brilliant before I started to hang out with you. You're rubbing off on me.”

She laughs “common you can stay at mine and we’ll deal with this tomorrow.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now come.” They walked over to her house fuck I gave the key to Lev

“Who’s the knucklehead now.”  

“Still you. I have a spear under the mat. “

“Alright, Einstein why don’t you give Lev the spare so you both have your own.” y/n chirps amusedly.

“Shut up.” she says in defeat.

You laugh. “Not so high and mighty now.” You yawn again. Abby opens the door and they walk to the spare bedroom.  

“I’ll go get you extra blankets.”

She leaves and comes back with the blankets and a spare shirt for her to sleep in. She helps y/n get settled in then sits on the bed with her. “If you need anything my room is down the hall, Lev’s room is next to yours"

"Okay, thank you, Abby."

"No problem, good night y/n.”

"Good night Abby."

Abby smiles at her then closes the door. Y/n changes into the shirt before laying down, turning on her side, and falls asleep. When she opens her eyes again she’s at the firefly hospital, everything was dark and there was an alarm blearing in her ears. She looked around to find someone but all she saw were dead bodies.

“Abby! Manny! Nora! Guys!” She walks around looking. “Where are you!” She opens one of the doors and sees all her friend's there dead gunshot riddled body’s lie limply on the floor. “No.” Her voice catches in her throat. “No. No no, no.” Y/n runs over kneeling in front of Abby, setting her on her lap. “Abby, please. Abby, wake up please.” She cries her voice cracking. She quickly turns when she hears a gun cock. She sees a tall older man with a beard and dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans. She raised a pleading hand about to beg for her life but then there was the bang of the gun firing.

Y/n jolts awake gasping for air, tear-streaked face glowing in the moonlight. She panicked a bit when she noticed she wasn’t home then calmed when she remembered she was at Abby’s. Abby. She was okay and alive. Before she could even think properly she was at her bedroom door. She lifts her hand to knock letting it hover there for a second before doing so. She opens the door. “Abby?” She says peaking her head through the crack. How she was thankful at that moment that Abby’s a light sleeper. She turns to face the door.

“Y/n what’s wrong?” She asked voice groggy. If she wasn’t in a state of fear she would have thought she sounded sexy.

“I. I had a nightmare.” Y/n could feel her eyes begin to fill with tears again as the scene of the nightmare flashes in her head. Abby says nothing she just opens the covers as a silent come here which y/n was thankful for. She treks her way in and lays next to Abby who throws the cover over her. Abby pulls her close rubbing a hand down her back in hopes that would help calm y/n down.

“It’s alright y/n you're in a safe place. Do you want to tell me what it was about? Maybe I could help.” Y/n shakes her head no. “Ok that’s alright maybe we can talk about it in the morning if you’d like. Try to get some sleep I’ll be right here, you're safe. “ Y/n takes a deep breath slowly falling back to sleep.

Abby gently rubs her cheek and presses a kiss to her forehead. Maybe lev was right, maybe she did have feelings for y/n.

[gwenbrightly]

Lloyd Nearly Gets Tetanus

Written in celebration of Ninjago’s 10th Anniversary.

Lloyd had never really liked his eyes. Sure, they had come in handy when he was still dedicated to leading a life of villainy and he needed to look scary to keep the other kids from picking on him. But now they reminded him too much of the father he’d never really gotten to know. Of the legacy his family had been cursed with.  Of the way his family had been ripped apart as a result of the Great Devourer’s venom. 

He really hadn’t expected the Golden Weapons to react to him. After all, he definitely wasn’t Green Ninja material. Kai would have been a much better choice. He had that comforting, protective big brother presence that Lloyd found himself clinging to after all he’d been through in his admittedly short life. And he’d actually wanted the title. Unlike Lloyd himself, who would rather hide in a cave for the next decade than fight his father. 

 It had been a shock. A big one. And even the initial surprise (and terror) of being labeled as the Green Ninja was nothing compared to the way he felt when he glanced in the bathroom mirror early the next morning and noticed that something had changed. His eyes, which had always managed to stay consistent in color up until now, were green. Green. Not blue, or brown, or some other color that he could live with while pretending the whole thing had been a sick dream, but green. Inescapable proof of the destiny that had been thrust upon him.  

Lloyd’s breath caught in his throat. This couldn’t be happening. It was too much. He scrambled backwards, away from the mirror, and tripped over a snag in the carpet. His elbow bumped against the floor as he fell and he let out a cry of pain. That was going to leave a mark. But that was the least of his problems. He lay on the floor for what felt like hours, unable to rouse himself from the mantra of this can’t be happening that repeated itself over and over in his head. Pathetic. 

Creak…. Somewhere on the Bounty, someone moved, causing Lloyd to sit up. If anyone saw him like this… no. The others already worried about him enough as it was. Lloyd couldn’t handle having to talk about this. Not now. There would be too many questions. What if they decided it was a sign that he was meant to fight his father here and now? After all no one else’s eyes had changed colors when they’d discovered their destinies. Well. No one would be able to notice the change if they didn’t see him at all. He’d just have to hide so good that Kai and Nya, and the others, wouldn’t find him.

 “You’re fine.” Lloyd told himself quietly as he stood up. It was definitely a lie, but he couldn’t afford to acknowledge that. He crept towards the kitchen – he’d need supplies if he were going to pull off this vanishing act – and tried not to think too hard about anything involving the color green. He already knew exactly where he was going to go; it didn’t take long to snag a box of animal crackers and a bottle of water and make his way down to the engine room. The motion activated lights flickered on. There, behind some pipes and machinery Lloyd couldn’t name, was his query. The perfect hiding spot. He’d initially discovered the hollow they formed while exploring the Bounty when he’d first arrived, but Nya had called him away before he had the chance to really appreciate it. He crawled and squeezed his way to the furthest depths of the hollow and prepared to settle in for the long haul.

 “You look like I feel…” Lloyd dejectedly told the caged lion on the front of his box of animal crackers. And then lights went out and he was left in total darkness.

 ___________________________________________________________

 “Has anyone seen my son?” Everyone glanced up from their pancakes when the warlord spoke.

 “Um, no,” Nya said carefully, “we thought he was still asleep. He’s had a rough few days.”

 “That is what I had hoped, but I checked his room just now, and he wasn’t there.” Garmadon stated. He looked worried. 

“That’s strange.” commented Kai, frowning. The others nodded. After just narrowly escaping the Serpentine yesterday, they had all assumed he’d want to surround himself with family and forget the experience. Not hide away somewhere.

 “Perhaps we should look for him. He’s quite good at getting himself into mischief.” Zane prompted, getting up from the table. Everyone was quick to follow his lead, feeling extra protective of the small boy. 

Knowing his habits better than anyone, except maybe Kai, Nya began searching Lloyd’s favorite hiding places. First was the little alcove beneath the steering wheel, then the Bounty’s roof. A few dead leaves drifted lazily on the breeze, a bird screeched in the distance, but Nya found no sign of human life. She called Lloyd’s name several times.  There was no response. With a frown, she clambered down from the roof. Where else would he go? Neither the training room, where Jay was digging through the cupboards where they stored weapons, nor the living room, where Cole and Kai had pushed the couch away from the wall, yielded any clues to Lloyd’s location. They were running out of places to look.

 “He can’t have just… disappeared,” she told her brother, attempting to hide her worry. She collapsed onto the couch while she tried to think of anywhere they might have forgotten to check. Kai sat down next to her and gave her shoulder a squeeze. 

 “He’s gotta be here somewhere,”Kai agreed, “Lloyd’s not stupid enough to go wandering off on his own again so soon, and I think we can rule out kidnapping – Garmadon said there were no signs of a struggle when he checked Lloyd’s room earlier.” 

“That’s promising, I guess.” Nya admitted with a sigh. The small boy wouldn’t have gone anywhere without a fight. Which meant he had to be here. Somewhere. But why couldn’t anyone find him? Why would he hide from them?  

“You don’t think he would’ve gone into the engine room by himself, do you?” Kai wondered aloud. Nya stared at him. Oh. 

 “Has anyone checked there yet?” she asked. He shook his head. “Kai, it’s not safe for him down there. There’s all sorts of broken machinery and old pipes, and the lights haven’t been working lately…”

 “We need to get down there before he hurts himself.” Kai decided, standing. Nya leapt up behind him, praying they would find Lloyd unharmed. Tetanus shots were the last thing she wanted to deal with. The walk to the engine room took far less time than it normally would. Kai and Nya sped down the hallway to the stairs before edging their way down into the dark room. Nya powered on the flashlight app on her phone. 

“See if you can get the lights to turn on. They usually start working okay if you poke them with a broomstick a few times.” She instructed as she wandered deeper into the engine room to look for Lloyd. Kai grabbed the broom that was leaning against the wall by the stairs and got to work poking the light with a bit more force than was truly necessary. When Nya had made it about halfway across the room, the lights flickered to life. Finally.  

Satisfied that the lights weren’t going to go out on them too soon, Kai joined her in looking under and behind the variety of machinery and junk that cluttered the engine room.  Together, they hunted for the small boy, certain that he had to be hiding somewhere in this mess. They searched behind the engine itself to no avail. Next, they looked in an old chest. They even pried up a loose floorboard to see if he had somehow gotten himself stuck underneath. Alas, there was nothing there. 

“Maybe we were wrong. Maybe he did get kidnapped by Pythor or-or-” Nya choked on her words, anxiety mounting. Anything could have happened to Lloyd. 

“Nya stop.” Kai insisted. He drew her into a side hug. “Maybe the others found him while we were down here.” 

She allowed him to guide her back towards the staircase, trying to understand how Lloyd wasn’t where they had been so certain they’d find him. Just as they reached the first step, Nya heard a small voice whisper,

 “No. Come back. Please don’t leave me down here.” 

“Lloyd!” Nya cried, wrenching free of Kai’s grasp, “Where are you?!”

 “M’stuck…” came the muffled reply. 

“Where?” Kai repeated. There was a rattling in the corner of the room, and Lloyd spoke again. 

“Over here behind this… this whatever this piece of junk is. The lights went out and I got stuck…” 

The siblings glanced at each other and followed the sound of his voice. They could just barely make out his shadowy form inside of the hollow he’d been hiding in. He looked so small, curled in on himself and facing away from them. One of the pipes had toppled over, blocking his way out. 

“Oh, Lloyd… what were you thinking?” Nya asked softly as she and Kai began tugging away the pipe. She wished he would turn around so she could make sure he wasn’t hurt, but he stayed frozen in place. “Just get me out of here.” Lloyd begged. The resignation in his voice sliced through the air like the katanas he was always begging to play with. 

“Something’s wrong,” Kai stated, saying what they were both thinking. Nya nodded in agreement. Whatever had happened, Lloyd definitely hadn’t come down here for fun. The pipe finally came loose, opening up a path of escape for the small boy. Only, he didn’t move right away. It was almost as if he were trying to avoid them. “You can come out now.” Kai prompted. 

Lloyd seemed to pause for a moment before scooting backwards towards them. He shakily made his way out of his hiding place, to the relief of his adoptive siblings. 

“Thank you,” he said to the floor. Nya scooped him into a hug. She could feel him beginning to relax. 

 “Do you have any idea how worried we were?”

 “I…. It was stupid, I know.” Lloyd admitted, still not looking at either of them. He tugged his hoodie down to cover his face. Why was he acting like this?

  “Lloyd, honey, please. Talk to us. What’s wrong?” 

Lloyd sniffled.

 “I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

“Okay,” Kai told him slowly, “we don’t have to talk yet. Do you need something to drink? A snack?” 

The boy gratefully accepted the bottle of water Kai held out to him. They sat there, together, not saying anything for what felt like an eternity. Nya leaned against the wall while Lloyd quietly sipped his water. Kai hummed absent mindedly. The engine whirred in the background. Eventually, Lloyd sighed. 

“It’s my eyes.” He told them so quietly they almost didn’t hear him. Nya blanched. 

“Your eyes?”

 Lloyd let out a small whimper as he removed his hood and looked at Kai and Nya.

 “There’s something wrong with them.” 

They stared at him in surprise. For the first time, since they had found him, Nya could clearly see his tear streaked face and the source of his distress.  

“They’re definitely… different,” Nya began carefully. Oh, First Spinjzu Master! How was she supposed to handle this? “but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.” 

“Yeah! There’s no reason to freak out.” agreed Kai, flashing him a weak smile. Lloyd didn’t seem to believe them. 

“Guy’s. It’s because I’m the Green Ninja. Isn’t it?”

 “It could be.” Nya offered. In all honesty, it was the most logical explanation for the striking emerald green color his eyes had taken on. Lloyd’s lip trembled.

 “And if it is… what if it’s a sign? What if the universe wants me to take down my father, like, right now.” 

Yep, there it was. Nya was pretty sure she had figured out exactly why Lloyd had resorted to hiding down here. He hadn’t wanted to be pushed into another hopeless situation. She caught Kai’s eye and nodded.

 Kai turned to Lloyd and asked, “Can I ask you something, Lloyd?”  Lloyd shrugged, but didn’t answer. The master of fire continued anyway. “When Zane first found his true potential, he started being able to freeze things on command. Do you think we suddenly decided he was the world’s most powerful ninja and sent him off on the most dangerous solo missions we could think of?”

 “N-no... Of course not.”

  “What about when Cole started bench pressing twice as much as before?” Nya added, “Or when Jay learned how to charge his cell phone with his elemental powers? Did we push them into situations they weren’t ready for?”

 Lloyd cringed, clearly not missing the point they were trying to make. He looked back down at his feet and muttered a soft, “no,”.  

“Then why would we treat you any differently?” Kai wanted to know. Lloyd’s heat snapped up. His voice wavered as he replied.

 “I’m the Green Ninja. It’s my destiny to-”

 “Screw destiny!” Nya cut him off, frustration filling her voice. She wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. “You’re just a kid, Lloyd! The color of your eyes doesn’t get to dictate when you face your father – you do!” 

 It was then that she realized that he was crying. Poor Lloyd. He hadn’t even made it a full 24 hours on the Bounty before trauma had struck again. Nya took a deep breath. She gathered Lloyd into another hug before he could protest and began brushing away his tears. Kai joined her, and, together, they held him as he continued to cry. “We won’t let anyone make you do anything you're not ready for.” Nya promised, ruffling Lloyd’s hair. 

He didn’t say anything, but his breathing began to slow from the near hyperventilating it had been moments before.

 “Nope. Why else would we have these cool powers?” Kai added. He winked at the small boy. 

“They are pretty cool,” Lloyd admitted with a sniffle. As the small boy started to relax, Nya and shared a smile of relief with her brother. 

“You’re safe with us, kiddo. Always.”  

[fruit-teeth]

Matters of Time and Fate (Chapter 21)

The clock up on the office wall ticked in a slow, repetitive rhythm as Joann’s heels tapped against the floor. As she stared at the door to the backroom, she could hear Phoenix Sage inside, no doubt making himself presentable.

Finally, the door opened, and he emerged: dressed in a clean suit, blonde hair combed back, and with the gold watch still hugging his slender wrist. Phoenix gave Joann a nod as he sat down at his desk, just a few feet across the room from where she stood.

Joann took a shaky breath, stepping closer. “Sir – can you tell me what’s going on? You said you were declaring war on Mann Co., but you’ve invited…” she shuddered. “You’ve invited those…bounty hunters here. Don’t you remember what happened the last time you had them here?”

Phoenix scoffed, laying out a few folders onto the desk. “Please. That situation was completely different. Now, they won’t kill our target, I only need her brought to me,”

“I’m not sure I trust them,” Joann advised. “Sir, you have to understand that—”

Before she could finish, the buzzer rang outside. Phoenix looked up, and he called out, “Come in!”

The door opened, and in they came, one by one: nine people, dressed in dark clothing, with symbols printed on their clothing. Their presence filled the office immediately, causing Joann to shrink back towards the wall.

Phoenix grinned at the sight of them, approaching with his hands clasped together. “My friends! How lovely it is to see you again!”

The leader of the group, a burly bearded man, crossed his arms and moved to meet Phoenix in the center of the room. “Sage: was there a reason you couldn’t just phone us this target? Explain to me how you had to call us out here at this time of night. With all due respect, we’re busy people.”

“Oh, Rust, Rust, my dear man,” Phoenix shook his head with a chuckle. “That’s because this is a different job. For this job, the target must be brought to me alive.”

Another man, this one skinny with bug-like eyes, piped up, “Alive!? Man, what do you think it is we do!?”

“Shut up, Grudge!” Rust snapped at the skinny man. He turned back to Phoenix and looked him up and down. “What’s the deal, then? You got a union organizer you want us to go after? Someone who needs to sign something?”

“Not quite,” Phoenix turned out, pulling out some photos from one of the folders. “Are you familiar with a man named ‘Gray Mann’?”

“Yeah,” a woman with shark-like teeth answered. “He died, right?”

“Yes,” Phoenix confirmed, and he held out the picture for them to see. “His daughter is still alive. I need you to find her and bring her to me – this is where she was last seen in public, at a shopping center. She was accompanied by men who are believed to be the mercenaries of Mann Co.”

As Rust took the picture to get a better look at it, Grudge asked, “A lil’ kid? Man, I don’t know about this…”

A short but muscular woman grunted, “Fuck them kids. How much are we getting paid?”

“How’s ninety grand sound to you?” Phoenix offered. “Reasonable?”

“Reasonable.” Rust agreed, glancing to each of his teammates’ faces for confirmation. “We will do our best to bring her back in one piece.”

“See to it that you do,” Phoenix nodded, passing the folders to Rust. “I never thought I would see myself turning to a ransom situation, but…when push comes to shove, you understand?”

As Phoenix briefed the bounty hunters with extra details, Joann stood towards the back, watching with discomfort in her eyes. Phoenix was in too deep, but she couldn’t stop him, now.

At the same time, in the attic bedroom of the townhouse, Olivia had gone to bed for the night. She laid there, curled up in the quilt with her stuffed cat cuddled beside her, yet it was in this state that she began to dream.

Olivia saw herself walking through the long, winding hallways of a strange building. Harsh lights flashed from above, but she tried not to look at them as she searched for some sort of way out.

Finally, she came upon a door. She tried the handle, finding that it was unlocked. Upon opening the door, however, the sight of something she hadn’t anticipated faced her.

In a slate-colored office room, seated at a dark wooden desk, was her father. When Olivia locked eyes with him, he stood up, holding his arms out to her.

“Olivia,” he sounded gentle in a way Olivia wasn’t used to. He moved from behind the desk, approaching her.

Olivia stood completely still for a moment, and something in her told her to run away. She pushed the feeling away, though, and went straight to her father’s arms.

The way he hugged her was very business-like, but she welcomed it all the same. She buried her face in his chest, holding him for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, and she felt him brush his hand through her hair.

A long moment of silence passed, but it dissipated when Gray began speaking. “You ran from me last time, Olivia.”

Olivia lifted her head to look at him, her eyes burning with tears. “What?”

He stepped back, breaking the embrace and putting her hands on his shoulders. “The last time I saw you, you ran away.”

“Oh,” Olivia remembered the dream she’d had about him before, and that she had, in fact, run away when she saw him. “I…I’m sorry, daddy, I won’t do it again…”

“No need to apologize,” he assured her, his hands retracting from her. “All I noticed is that you’re losing yourself.”

Olivia wiped at her eyes, sniffling. “What?”

Gray went on. “You’ve become so…passive. So afraid.”

The tears quickly turned to anger, though Olivia bit it back. “I’m not afraid! I’m not afraid of anything!”

“Oh, but you are,” Gray countered. “I can sense it in you, you know: you’re scared of the people who are coming to attack this place.”

“No…” Olivia knew he was right, but she still denied it. She didn’t want to feel small.

“Don’t lie to me,” he reprimanded, though his voice started to get quieter and further away. “Remember yourself.”

Olivia suddenly realized he was fading from her, and she desperately scrambled to try and cling to him. “Daddy!” she shrieked, though her hands only met air. “Daddy, I’m sorry! Come back!”

At that moment, the floor beneath her disappeared, and she tumbled downwards into nothingness. She felt unable to breathe, her gasps for air coming slower and slower, as if she were submerged in some sort of liquid.

The darkness split, revealing a pathway of light, and she struggled towards it, reaching both hands outwards.

Finally, she was out, and she coughed for air as she fell down upon something cold and hard. The darkness was gone, but now the bright light was oppressive, causing her to press her eyes shut.

A pair of big hands grasped her shoulders just as she got up, and she yelped in distress at the unexpected sensation.

“Olivia?”

Olivia could feel her hands shaking as her senses returned. She was in bed still, and the sun was just beginning to rise outside…had she really been dreaming?

She jolted again when someone touched her back, but when she looked up, she let her guard down. It was Medic, and he looked rather concerned.

“What happened?” he wanted to know. “You were shaking in your sleep, I walked by and you seemed so restless…”

“Oh,” Olivia sniffled, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. She hugged her arms, before admitting, “I had a bad dream…”

Medic sighed. “Oh, dear. It must have been the fact you ate right before going to sleep, that tends to happen,” he cleared his throat and stood up off the bed. “It’s still early, would you like to go back to sleep?”

Olivia blinked, just as a yawn stopped her from answering for a moment. “Um…” she rubbed her eye again. “Yeah…I’m still tired.”

“All right,” Medic nodded, going to the door. “We will see you in a few hours, then.”

As Medic left, Olivia settled back into bed. Despite her best attempts to tune them out, her father's words echoed in her ears as she clutched her stuffed cat close to her. She was strong, she knew she was…she’d always known it.

She fell asleep again at some point and dreamed another dream, though she didn’t remember this one. When she woke up again, she could hear the sound of the phone ringing downstairs.

Olivia sat up, rubbing her eyes as someone answered the phone. She got up when she heard speaking, and padded down the hallway and into the stairwell. From where she stood, she could see Miss Pauling standing by the wall, the phone’s receiver tucked beneath her chin.

“Hey, Hale,” Pauling greeted. “Yep, it’s me…no, no one’s come around yet. That might just mean Phoenix is biding his time, or that he can’t find us.”

Pauling paused, listening, and Olivia wondered what Saxton could be saying.

“Okay,” Pauling replied after a moment. “Yeah, we’ll call you for back up if anything goes wrong. Okay? Okay. Talk to you later.”

She hung up, and it was then that she noticed Olivia watching. “Oh!” Pauling straightened up, clearing her throat. “Hey, good morning.”

“Good morning.” Olivia greeted back, walking down the stairs. “Are those guys coming to the house?”

“I don’t know,” Pauling confessed. “We haven’t heard any signs of danger or anything yet. Maybe they can’t find this place, but I have no idea.”  

Olivia began to feel uneasy again, her mind going back to the possible danger looming over them. She took a step forward and rooted herself to Miss Pauling's skirt, where she remained for a moment.

Miss Pauling paused, looking down at her in surprise. “Uh…hi? Are you okay?”

Olivia released her grip, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “Um…I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Pauling knelt beside her, watching her with concern.

Olivia shifted anxiously from foot to foot, before admitting, “I had a dream about my daddy.”

Miss Pauling took a long breath. “I see…was it a bad dream?”

“Yeah,” Olivia confessed, staring at her feet. She then looked back up at Pauling. “Am I weak?”

“What? No, of course you aren’t weak.” Pauling placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her. “You’ve been really brave this whole time.”

“Have I?” Olivia smiled a little.

“Yeah – I mean, you’ve been through a lot for a kid your age,” Pauling went on. “I can’t even imagine how stressful it must be to just…” she trailed off, before clearing her throat again. “Anyway: come have breakfast, everyone else is in the dining room.”

As Olivia walked in, Scout was in the middle of telling everyone else in the dining room a very animated story.

“So, picture this, right?” Scout took a swig of orange juice before continuing. “My hand is totally stuck in there, my piano teacher is layin’ on the floor screaming, and my ma is knocking at the door like crazy!”

Olivia hoisted herself up on the chair, looking up at Scout, watching how amusing he was when he spoke.

“What then?” Soldier prompted from where he sat, intrigued.

Scout set his glass down. “Then, my teacher takes the vegan chili and wips it all around the kitchen! Floor, ceiling, everywhere – and then she points her bony finger at me and says I have no business playing the piano!”

Spy just rolled his eyes, while Demoman gasped in outrage. “Oh, lord!”

“I know, right!?” Scout shook his head, taking a big bite of eggs. “Anyway, never went back to her again! My brother Joey mailed dead slugs to her house like a week later. Funny stuff.”

Heavy grunted. “Americans. Hm.”

As Engineer noticed Olivia at the table, he passed her a plate of scrambled eggs. “Howdy, Olivia! We got eggs here, there’s potatoes too.”

“Okay,” Olivia accepted the plate, but then she spotted a television in the corner of the room that she hadn't seen before. “What’s that?”

“Oh – yeah, that’s a screen I’m gonna hook up to a new camera,” Engineer explained. “So, we don’t have to be on lookout constantly, we can see what’s going on outside from here.”

Olivia glanced back at the TV. The screen was black for now, but she imagined what it would be like when it was a working security camera. “Shouldn’t we have more cameras so we can see the whole yard?”

“One thing at a time, lass,” Demo assured her patiently. “Besides, Jane and I did a full lookout. No one’s been snooping around here!”

“For now, anyway.” Sniper commented from where he sat, before noticing the look on Olivia’s face. “I mean, uh – everything’s gonna be fine. Trust me, we know what we’re doing.”

Scout reached over, pushing a glass of orange juice in Olivia’s direction. “Yeah! We’ve been doing this for years, kid. Now drink some juice! Like my ma says, it keeps your bones strong, or whatever…” he paused, thinking. “Or was that milk?”

“Milk!” Soldier corrected him. “It’s why my bones are unbreakable!”

Olivia couldn’t help but giggle at the answer, while Medic huffed. “You have broken bones before! You – oh, never mind…”

At this point in the morning, everything seemed to be going all right.

After Olivia finished breakfast, she went upstairs to shower, only to find that someone else was in there. She lay against the shower door for a few moments, listening to the shower sounds and recalling the morning when she slept in the laundry basket while the shower ran. This time, though, something pulled her attention away from the door: down the hallway, she could see that Helen’s bedroom door was wide open.

Olivia pulled herself away from the bathroom door, realizing she hadn’t actually been in Helen’s room before. She checked to make sure no one was around, before slipping in the room quietly.

It was a very tidy room, with a neatly made bed, a well-organized makeup shelf, and old record player in the corner. However, there were a stack of boxes sitting in the corner, something that enticed Olivia’s curiosity right away.

She reached into the box on the top, rooting around until her hand hit something solid. When she pulled it out, she realized it was a very old, framed photograph of a horse. It was a huge, black horse with a white, diamond-shaped marking on the center of its head. A plaque with the name "BLACK IVORY" and other awards could be seen beside the horse. Olivia thought back to the bonfire the night before: Helen had mentioned this horse, how it had been shot for throwing her off. The thought made a nagging, dark pit form in Olivia’s stomach, and she had to put the picture back before the feeling grew worse.

She reached inside again, finding another framed picture. This time, it showed a young man with a beard and a scar on his forehead – something about him seemed very familiar to Olivia, but she couldn’t understand why. He had a very pleasant, gentle face, and she felt comforted just by looking at him. She felt something pinned to the back of the frame as she held it, so she flipped it over to investigate.

On the back sat a note. It was old, though it had been laminated to keep it safe. It read:

For Helen, my darling angelfish –

Always remember me and keep me in your heart. May the rivers of time never separate us, and just know that I will always love you.

With all of my heart,

Your father, Garrett.

Olivia read the note over again, blinking. Helen had a father? Well, she must have had one, obviously: everyone had a father. He called her ‘angelfish’…he really must have loved her, if she had a nickname as nice as that.

As Olivia stared at the portrait of Garrett, she tried to imagine Helen as a little girl. Did Garrett train her for work, too?

Olivia set the portrait back into the box, yet it was then she noticed the box sitting closest to the floor: her name was on it. She stared for a moment, confused – why would Helen have a box with her name?

Now intrigued, Olivia knelt down and reached for the box, beginning to move aside the other boxes so she could just –

“What are you doing!?”

Olivia jolted, head snapping up to see Helen looming above her. Helen had clearly just showered, as her hair was damp and she was in her bathrobe.

There was pause, before Helen repeated herself. “What are you doing? Is this what you do? You snoop around others’ belongings?”

“That box has my name!” Olivia pointed to it, indignant. “My name! See?”

Without warning, Helen scooped Olivia up, carrying her out of her room. “It’s not important! You are not allowed in this room!”

Olivia shrieked, squirming to get away from Helen’s grip. “Stop! Put me down!” When Helen did not comply right away, Olivia turned right around and hissed in her face like an animal.

Helen set her down on the floor, scolding her, “Do not hiss!”

“Do not hiss!” Olivia repeated back to her, mimicking Helen’s voice.

“Oh, you…!” Helen stopped herself, taking a long breath. “I’m going to get dressed, and you are going to calm down. Understood?”

Olivia crossed her arms, scowling. “You’re mean to me!”

Helen’s eye twitched, but she said nothing, rising and storming back into her bedroom. As the door slammed, Olivia stamped her foot in anger, her fists balled in rage. It wasn’t her fault Helen left the door open! If Helen didn’t want anyone in her room, she could have closed the door…Olivia then realized her own door was open, meaning that anyone could walk into her room as well. Maybe it was wrong to sneak in there, to some extent. In any case, she did not care for the way Helen spoke to her.

Right then, someone else walked up the stairs, and Olivia turned around to see Pyro approaching. They greeted her with a little wave, their energy as bouncy as always.

“Hi.” Olivia greeted back, still a little on edge from what had just occurred. She rocked back and forth, trying to soothe herself.

Pyro noticed right away, and they sat down on the floor beside her, tilting their head as if to ask what the matter was. Olivia stared up at their shiny, dark lenses, before clarifying, “I made Helen mad because I went into her room. She yelled at me, and now I’m mad too.”

Pyro took a moment to process this, then mumbled something sympathetically to her while ruffling her hair with affection. They then stood up, gesturing for her to follow them.

Perplexed but fascinated, Olivia followed them down the hallway and into what was obviously Pyro's bedroom. There were a few stuffed animals on the bed, as well as their weapons, such as the axe and a flamethrower. Olivia noticed that having stuffed animals and heavy-duty weapons on the same bed was quite a contrast, but she liked it for some reason.

Pyro opened a small box, retrieving a pad of paper and a handful of colored pencils, and they sat on the floor. Olivia sat beside them, and they gave her a sheet of paper as well as a few of the pencils.

“What am I supposed to do with these?” she wanted to know, looking to Pyro for answers.

Pyro picked up a pencil, getting a paper out and drawing a frowny face. They then scribbled a series of what seemed to be tiny hills next to it with a different colored pencil. Next to that, they drew a happy face.

Olivia thought for a moment, trying to decipher it. “Hills make people happy?”

Mumbling, Pyro shook their head and pointed to the frowny face. They then drew a picture of a little stick figure drawing, and then pointed to the happy face.

It then clicked for Olivia. “Oh! Drawing would help me feel happy?”

Pyro nodded, enthusiastic. They pointed to the colored pencils, and then at Olivia, as if prompting her to draw.

“Okay…I can try.” Olivia picked up a pink colored pencil, beginning to draw. She drew a little flower, and then next to it, her toy cat and rubber duck. Feeling bold, she then drew herself, not really caring what it looked like.

She found that it helped her feel better – something about it was relaxing to her. She added more flowers, feeling herself smile.

Olivia glanced over, seeing that Pyro was still drawing as well. They had drawn two little stick figures side by side, one with a mask on its head, similar to their own, and the other with a bow drawn on its head, much to her delight.

“Is that me?” Olivia asked, pointing to the drawing.

Pyro nodded, adding a skirt to the figure as well. Olivia couldn’t stop herself from grinning, and she looked back at her own drawing.

Beside herself, she drew Pyro, paying attention to their mask and making sure it was accurate. Once she’d drawn Pyro there, she got bold, beginning to sketch out a few of the others as well.

Pyro paused what they were doing, leaning over Olivia’s shoulder to watch her draw. Olivia noticed, but she didn’t stop. She sketched out the rest of Scout’s leg, before moving on to Demoman. She wondered if she could fit everyone onto the notepad, but the only way she’d know was to try it.

At the same time, Helen got dressed for the day, the interaction with Olivia still on her mind. She felt…regret, for yelling at her. She knew she had every right to be angry about the girl looking through her belongings, but as she reflected on the situation, she realized she should have handled it better.

Her mind wandering, she glanced back over at the box, reaching inside. She pulled out the framed portrait of her father, taking a moment to just observe. His calm gray eyes returned her stare, and a flame in her heart rekindled as she recalled all the days those gentle eyes had looked at her with patience and love.

Helen couldn’t help but ask softly, “What would you have done?”

Of course, he did not answer. She tucked the portrait back into the box, and she pushed the feeling of longing yet again. The present was what she needed to focus on, not the past.

Unbeknownst to her and the rest of the others, this quiet would not last long.

The bounty hunters from the group SHDW (what this acronym stands for is unclear) had narrowed down the location of the townhouse by gaining access to surveillance cameras from stores and traffic lights. Miles away and deep in the woods, they stood on a hill and looked out, seeing the shape of the house beyond the thicket.

“You’re sure this is the place?” the small and muscular woman questioned as she approached Rust.

Rust lowered his binoculars, staring out at the house. “This has gotta be it. Only big place for miles.” He gestured to the woman. “Go get the others, Shell. We’re gonna break in.”