#at least she kept her laugh... and we'll always have the memories...

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

Oh my god she really is a fucking tory 😭😭😭 i've never been so devastated before in my life what the hell 😭😭😭

[sleekervae]

The Bride [0.8]

Masterlist

Pairing: billy the kid x fem!reader

Summary: Jesse robs Eleanor

Warnings: cursing, slander, mentions of shooting, armed robbery, anxiety and paranoia

Word Count: 4,636

Tag List: @poppyflower-22 @ponyslayer

Time wasn't a constant while they caught up. Eleanor learned more about Billy's journey; his trouble in Mexico and the adrenaline he had in taking another life. Though at the same time he wasn't sorry for it; in this instance it was kill or be killed and despite Eleanor's disappointment, she couldn't blame Billy for his actions. She was just grateful that he was alive.

He went on about meeting Pat, rejoining with Jesse, and how he came to be under Murphy's employment. Having a steady job worked in his favour and kept him out of trouble from the law -- the law of course was in Murphy's pocket, too. Nevertheless, there was no joy or exuberance as Billy spoke, it was clear to Eleanor he didn't enjoy roughing up the locals. They were innocents just trying to make ends meet, they hadn't done anything to wrong him.

At the same time, Eleanor confided in Billy about her father's passing; how she tentatively ventured back to Rosario to take care of his affairs, to identify the body. That was the hardest part; the last time she'd seen her father alive, she was making off with a horse and leaving him in the dust. Now he was just another empty vessel in a musty doctor's office; he was so familiar and yet so foreign to her.

Billy felt for her, he at least got to spend time with his father in his final moments. Eleanor spoke kind in his memory, however there was a lingering resentment in her voice. In the end however she was grateful because he ended up leaving her his land, and quite a bit of money. A woman owning land was so unheard of, and Eleanor was touched that her father regarded her so highly. Though given her past, she didn't feel that Rosario was her home anymore. She heard about Tunstall setting up shop and decided she needed a fresh start, new name, new town, nobody who would know her.

Or so she thought.

Meanwhile, Jesse was pacing back and forth in their encampment; a bottle of whiskey clenched in his hand as he swayed from foot-to-foot. Pat watched him, the brim of his hat low as he tuned the strings on John's guitar.

"What's eating you?" he asked, his voice gruff and low.

"Billy," Jesse spat, "He hasn't come back, yet,"

"I see that," Pat nodded, "Where you reckon he went?"

Bob came hobbling out of his own tent, undoing his trousers as he stumped towards a bush. He laughed under his breath, "He prolly went to make acquaintances with Mr. Riley's wife. You seen the way she was lookin' at 'im?" he gave a whistle, dropping his drawers and relieving himself.

Pat smirked back, turning to the anxious Jesse, "Yeah, you told me how much of a dog he can be. Relax, Jesse," he coaxed, "He'll be back soon,"

Jesse wasn't perturbed. With a final swig of the whiskey bottle, he proceeded to toss it into the dirt, "We'll se about that," deep down in his gut, he had a pretty good idea of where Billy had gone off to...

Eleanor peered through the curtains, the night cloaking Lincoln in its deep, unyielding silence. The streets were still, not a whisper of wind to stir the calm. Her heart, however, was anything but serene, a restless fluttering in her chest that refused to be tamed.

The quiet creak of the powder room door broke the stillness, and Billy emerged, adjusting his shirt with a casual grace. He was a sight to behold, his every movement both familiar and foreign. Eleanor's eyes traced his form before she forced herself to look away, her cheeks warming under his gentle smile.

"You keep looking out the window," Billy remarked as he settled beside her on the bed, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet room.

Eleanor shrugged, a bittersweet smile touching her lips. "I’ve been doing it for over a year now. It’s hard to shake the feeling… like someone’s always watching."

Billy’s brow furrowed as a thought struck him, a shadow of concern crossing his features. “Did you know the US Army is here?”

Eleanor’s head bobbed in a slow nod. “Yep. I haven’t seen Harbinger, yet,” the army captain.

“And what if he shows up?” Billy’s question hung in the air, charged with unspoken fears.

Eleanor’s gaze drifted to her lap, her fingers fidgeting with the fabric of her skirt. “I’ll think of something,” she said softly, “Maybe Johana Delile will just have to disappear for a bit,”

Billy’s eyes narrowed with concern. “Does Tunstall know?”

“No,” Eleanor said firmly, “And if I can manage it, he won’t.”

“He’s going to find out,” Billy warned, his voice tight. “Jesse’s got a bone to pick now.”

Eleanor’s fingers continued their restless dance, her gaze fixed on her lap. “He always finds something to pick,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing to mask the edge in her voice.

Billy’s worry deepened, “Not like this. Jesse’s furious. He thinks you betrayed him,”

Eleanor’s shoulders tensed, a sigh escaping her lips. “Dunno' what else you'd call it...” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt, especially not by him,” Billy said, his tone earnest and soft.

Eleanor met his gaze, her own filled with a resolve she barely felt. “He won’t hurt me, Billy. Not if he wants the money I owe him,”

In the end, Eleanor understood why Jesse’s fury seemed so personal. Loyalty meant little now; the protection she’d paid for was overdue, and Jesse would have no patience for debts now that he'd found her.

Billy’s eyes softened as realization dawned on him, a shadow of sadness flickering across his face, “That’s why you pulled out the knife so quickly,” he said quietly, a note of sadness threading through his voice. “You thought I was coming to collect,”

Eleanor stood up, her movements steady but her expression strained. She walked to the dresser, her fingers moving with a practiced efficiency as she rummaged through her bag. Her hand closed around the cold surface of the switchblade, a brand new piece of metal with intricate carvings on the handle, the blade was so clean one could almost see their own reflection.

With a deep breath, she pulled out the knife, its surface catching the dim glow of the gas lamp, “Sam said he wouldn't feel right letting me lock up without a little protection -- and this came without a drunken, trigger-happy fool,” she said softly, her gaze lingering on the blade before she handed it to Billy.

Billy inspected the knife carefully, his heart heavy with the realization of how precariously she balanced on the edge of peril. It had been said so frequently: never bring a knife to a gun fight. Billy knew that little gadget would do little to perturb Jesse.

"I'm not gonna' let anything happen to you," he promised.

Eleanor scoffed, "Billy --"

"I mean it, Eleanor," he met her gaze, his piercing blue eyes holding her on the spot, "I don't care what side I'm on; as long as you're here... I can't lose anybody else. I need you to be alright,"

His voice, raw and earnest, cut through the air, each word pulling at the tangled mess of emotions in her chest. It reminded her of the day they found him in the desert—skin blistered, lips cracked, the sun mercilessly beating down on him. He was barely hanging on, so close to the edge that the wind itself might have taken him. And when he finally opened his eyes, it was her face he saw first.

The relief in his gaze had been overwhelming, a moment of pure connection in a world that was anything but kind. Now, as he looked at her with that same intensity, the vulnerability in his eyes was impossible to ignore. That look—like he was still clinging to her, still seeing her as the one thing keeping him tethered to this world—held her captive, just as it had all those years ago.

Eleanor sat down beside him, her hand closing over his, the cool metal of the switchblade still clenched between his fingers. She looked into his eyes, her voice soft but firm, "Hey—I'm not going anywhere. You can't make me," Her thumb brushed over his knuckles, grounding them both in the moment, "I just worry about you. I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me,"

Billy shook his head, a small, almost defiant smile playing on his lips. "I’m not gonna’ get in trouble," he replied, his voice laced with a quiet confidence that almost made her believe him, "They’ll have to catch me first,"

But as the words left his mouth, Eleanor couldn’t shake the heaviness in the air between them. They’d been here before—always pulled back into each other’s orbit, only to be torn apart again by circumstances beyond their control. Their meetings, once innocent (somewhat), had taken on an edge lately, as if each moment together was borrowed time.

Tonight felt different, though. The way he looked at her, the way he held on to her hand like it was the last solid thing in a world that kept shifting beneath their feet—she could sense the desperation beneath his bravado.

Their rendezvous had always carried a hint of danger, but tonight it felt more real, more imminent. The walls they’d built around themselves, the lies they told to survive, were closing in, and she knew that one wrong move could shatter everything.

Eleanor jumped at the sudden banging of a window shutter across the way. It was instinctual at this point to peak behind the curtain of her own window, just to make sure nobody was out there. She figured there had to be a day, somewhere down the line where she could hear noises go off in the night and not have to worry.

"You should get going," she told Billy, "It's late, and Jesse's gonna be on you like flies on a carcass,"

As much as he hated to admit it, Billy knew Eleanor was right. He had to get his story straight by the time he arrived at the encampment, what he would say at the moment however he wasn't sure.

"S'pose so," he stood from the bed, placing the switchblade on the bedside table, "I'll try to keep the guys away from Tunstall's store, if I can,"

"Don't. Don't involve yourself like that," Eleanor shook her head, "But eventually, you are gonna' have to make a choice, Billy. You can't play peace-keeper for so long,"

"What does that mean?" he cocked a brow.

"It means I'm not gonna' hold it against you if you stay on Murphy's side. We all gotta' do what we have to, right?" despite the calm she tried to project, Billy could see the sadness in her eyes. It was like a shadow that never quite left, no matter how much she smiled or reassured him. He knew she understood—better than anyone—that he had a job to do. But the weight of that job, the promises Frank had made about pride and purpose, didn’t sit right with him anymore. The high he was supposed to feel from threatening people, from doing what needed to be done, was nowhere to be found.

Instead, it left a bitter taste in his mouth, one that only grew stronger every time he remembered the people he was hurting—good, innocent people caught in the same web that had almost strangled him not so long ago.

"That we do..."

Billy wouldn’t say it out loud, not yet, but the cracks in his loyalty were getting harder to ignore. Tunstall’s side, with its promises of something better, something that didn’t leave him feeling hollow, was starting to look a whole lot more appealing. And it wasn’t just the cause that drew him in… it was the thought of a future that wasn’t stained with regret, a future where Eleanor wasn’t just a fleeting moment, but something real.

The cracks in Billy’s resolve deepened the very next day, splintering into something he couldn’t ignore. No matter how hard he tried to keep things from spiraling, he hadn’t seen it coming—Pat pulling out his gun and shooting the Mexican farmer right in front of his family. The man crumpled to the ground, dead before he even hit the dirt. The farmer was about to strike Jesse, but it didn’t matter. Not to the family wailing in despair, the cries of “murderer” in their native tongue echoing in Billy’s ears long after the dust settled.

Billy hadn’t pulled the trigger, but the guilt gripped him like he had. The weight of it pressed down on his chest, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. He could still see the lifeless eyes of the farmer, still hear the anguished sobs of his wife and children. And no matter how much he told himself he hadn’t done it, he felt every bit the murderer they accused him of being.

Pat was arrested shortly after, the sheriff doing what he could to keep the furious townspeople at bay. But even with the law on Murphy’s side, the sheriff had a line to toe. Whether Pat would hang for it was anyone’s guess, but one thing was clear—Murphy was down a man, and the rest of them were left to pick up the pieces, scrambling to cover lost time and wages. And with every step Billy took, the cracks widened, threatening to pull him under.

News of the farmer’s murder spread through town like wildfire, igniting whispers and fueling fear. In its wake, more farmers turned to Tunstall, signing deals faster than ever. Tunstall. For Eleanor, it meant more goods to sell, more profits for the store, which should’ve been good news. But no amount of business success could quiet the gnawing worry in her gut. Every day, the unease grew, twisting tighter inside her as she wondered how Billy was holding up, praying he wasn’t as deeply entangled in this mess as she feared. But the silence from him only made her worry more.

Eleanor's paranoia gnawed at her, growing stronger with each passing day. Every night, she checked the door twice, her heart pounding as she turned the key, and every time she stepped onto the street, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching. She kept glancing over her shoulder, half-expecting to see Jesse lurking at the end of a dark alley or feeling the cold press of a gun at her back. She knew Jesse wasn’t the type to let things go. If he ever came back to the store, she feared he’d do more than just cause a scene.

Her anxiety spiked whenever she caught sight of the army soldiers milling around town. None of them seemed to notice her, but that didn’t stop the dread from building in her chest. What if Captain Harbinger was still looking for her? The thought of being dragged back to Rosario—or anywhere he deemed fit—terrified her more than anything Jesse could do. The idea of being chained to a life she had barely escaped, reduced to nothing more than a captive housewife, was a fate worse than death.

The guilt gnawed at Billy, a constant ache that wouldn't let him sleep. He couldn't shake the image of the farmer's lifeless body, the sound of the family's screams echoing in his mind. So he decided to do the one thing that might ease the weight on his chest—he went to the farmer’s funeral. He didn’t even know the man’s name, but the least he could do was show up, pay his respects, try to make sense of the mess he was part of.

Billy dressed in his best clothes, ones that hadn’t seen dirt or blood, and made his way to the service. The moment he arrived, he could feel the stares, the cold, hard eyes boring into him. His presence was like a dark cloud, unwelcome and heavy, but he stayed. He stayed because he owed it to the man in the ground, and maybe even to himself. Much to his surprise, he wasn't the only outsider attending the funeral.

Charlie Bowdre wasn’t one to get involved in senseless violence, and he had heard enough about Billy—both the legend and the man behind it. Charlie knew Billy wasn’t just some ruthless outlaw, not the cutthroat the stories made him out to be. There was something more to him, something decent.

Charlie saw in Billy a man torn between the life he’d been dragged into and the values he still held deep down. The more they talked, the more Charlie realized that Billy believed in fairness, in giving everyone a shot, not just those with deep pockets. It was a belief that aligned with Tunstall's own ideals, a belief in something better, something more just.

So, Charlie did what he could—he spoke to Billy, man to man. He didn’t push, didn’t preach, just laid it out plain and simple. He offered Billy a chance to switch sides, to stand up for the values they both knew were right. It wasn’t an easy decision, but Charlie’s words stuck with Billy, gnawing at him until he couldn’t ignore them anymore. In the end, it wasn’t just about choosing a side; it was about choosing who he wanted to be. 

On a bright and warm morning, Eleanor rode out to the bank to make the weekly deposit for the store. The sun was just starting to climb higher in the sky, casting a golden light over Lincoln. The air was still, almost too still, and the usual bustle of the town seemed oddly subdued. Eleanor kept her eyes forward, focused on the road ahead, the satchel of money securely tied to her saddle.

As she rode, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It was too quiet, too calm, like the town was holding its breath. But she pushed the thought aside, blaming it on the nerves that had been gnawing at her ever since Billy's last visit. She was almost at the bank, just a few more minutes and she’d be done, back in the safety of the store, where she could keep an eye on things.

But as she reached the horse tie-off that ran beside the bank, a shadow moved across her path. Before she could react, Jesse stepped out in front of her horse, his hand casually resting on the butt of his revolver. His face was a mask of cold indifference, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Morning, Eleanor,” he drawled, his voice low and calm, as if they were just old friends having a chat.

Her heart pounded in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm, to not show the fear that was threatening to consume her, “Jesse,” she replied, her voice steady, though her mind was racing. She knew better than to whip the reins and try to run. Jesse was too quick for that.

He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey, "Sorry -- I forgot you go by Johana now," he said, his eyes flicking to the satchel.

"I don't reckon you care, much," she replied, her throat tightening as he moved even closer, close enough that she could see the tension in his jaw, the barely contained anger simmering beneath the surface, "I was sorry to hear about Pat,"

"I'm sure you were..." he shrugged, "If that fuck'n Mexican just knew his place --"

"Don't start with that," she huffed, "What do you want?"

Jesse’s hand moved to the satchel, his fingers brushing against the leather strap, "What do I want? I want my own distillery so I never have to pay for whiskey again," he met her gaze, his tone mocking, "And I wanna' drag you into the desert and teach you a couple lessons. But I'll settle for this money bag,"

A shiver ran down her spine, but she didn’t resist as he untied the satchel from her saddle. Her eyes met his, and for a brief moment, she saw the old Jesse, the one who had once cared for her, protected her. But that Jesse was long gone, replaced by this cold, calculating man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

"You can be mad at me all you want, Jesse," she said softly, trying to appeal to his sympathy -- if he had any left, "If you were in my shoes, you'd do the same thing,"

"Really?" he scoffed, "I took good care of you, I made sure you were fed, made sure you were protected. And how do you repay me?" his hand came over her skirt, squeezing over her thigh. Eleanor fought to urge to kick him away, "You just take off with no explanation. No loyalty. And since you still owe me for protection, consider this you fulfilling your debt," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, but the threat in his words was clear. He tucked the satchel under his arm, his gaze never leaving hers.

"This mean you're gonna leave me alone, now?" she asked.

"Perhaps?" he shrugged, "Or maybe I'll come by the store from time to time, scope out the goods... just say hi," he added, his voice softening slightly, as if he almost regretted what he was doing. But then, just as quickly, the softness was gone, replaced by that same hard, ruthless edge.

"You take care now, Johana,"

Without another word, Jesse turned and walked away, disappearing back into the alley as quietly as he had appeared. To anyone passing by, it would have looked like nothing more than a brief conversation, nothing out of the ordinary. But Eleanor knew better. She had just been robbed, and not just of money, but of whatever hope she had left that Jesse might leave her alone.

She waited until he was out of sight before she allowed herself to breathe again, her hands trembling as she gripped the reins. The warmth of the morning sun suddenly felt oppressive, the brightness of the day a stark contrast to the cold fear that now gripped her heart.

Billy strolled into Tunstall’s store, shoulders back but head low, eyes scanning the place like he was expecting trouble. The bell above the door jingled softly, but the only other sound in the shop was the steady swish of a broom across the floor. Sam, preoccupied with sweeping, didn’t even notice Billy until he turned around.

"Have a look at whatever you want—" Sam began, but then his gaze landed on Billy. His expression darkened immediately, "Oh, it’s you," he huffed, pausing mid-sweep, "Here to turn my shop over again? Make some menial threats, or is there something else you’re after?"

Billy shook his head, the weight of regret pulling at his chest.,"No," he said quietly, eyes downcast. "I’m really sorry about that…" He hesitated, swallowing hard before forcing out the question that had been burning on his mind since he set foot in town. "Is El—Johana here?"

Sam’s eyes narrowed, suspicion etched into every line of his face. He didn’t answer right away, just let the silence sit there, thick and uncomfortable, like he was waiting for Billy to crack under the pressure.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sam spoke, his tone clipped and cold. "No," he replied curtly, his jaw tightening, "She’s off today. Got robbed down at the bank,"

The words hit Billy like a punch to the gut, leaving him reeling. He tried to hide his reaction, but the shock must have shown on his face because Sam’s glare only deepened.

"Robbed?" Billy echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. A knot of guilt twisted in his stomach. He should’ve been there. He should’ve protected her.

"Yeah," Sam snapped, clearly not in the mood for small talk. "Some jackass took off with the week’s earnings,"

Billy clenched his fists at his sides, anger and frustration bubbling up inside him, "Do you know who did it?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, though he could feel it cracking around the edges.

Sam shot him a pointed look, as if to say he knew damn well who was behind it, but he didn’t say a word. Instead, he just turned back to his sweeping, dismissing Billy with a shrug.

"Does it matter?" Sam repeated, his voice a little louder this time, the edge of resignation cutting through. "What’s done is done. What do you want with her, anyway?"

Billy opened his mouth to answer, but the words caught in his throat. What did he want with Eleanor? Was he here to check on her, to see if she was okay? Or to bear his soul to her, aching for some forgiveness he felt he should repent for?

He shook his head, trying to clear the fog that had settled in his mind. "Don't matter, I guess," he muttered, more to himself than to Sam. "... Is Tunstall here?"

"Mr. Tunstall's away," Sam said, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something Billy couldn’t quite place, "... But if you want, you can go and meet his lawyer, Mr. McSween,"

Billy’s brow furrowed as he considered the offer. There was a pause, a beat where he could almost hear the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out what Sam was getting at, "And he can give you a good account of what's actually happening here in Lincoln,"

"What is actually happening here in Lincoln, Sam?" Billy asked, his voice carrying the weight of the countless rumors and half-truths he’d been hearing since he first set foot in town, "‘Cause everybody around here seems to have their own angle on it. What's yours?"

Sam stopped sweeping, leaning on the broom as he looked Billy square in the eye. "Well, I think we're on the verge of a big war... a war between Murphy and Tunstall. And as far as I can see, one side is right, and the other side is plain wrong,"

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Billy could feel the tension in his chest tightening, the lines between right and wrong blurring in his mind. He’d been working for Murphy for long enough to know what kind of man he was, what kind of power he wielded. But hearing it from Sam, someone who clearly had no love for Murphy’s crew, made it all feel more real, more immediate.

"If I agree to meet with McSween," Billy started, his voice cautious, "it has to be in secret. No one can know about it."

Sam nodded, understanding in his eyes. "You can tell McSween... it's just a friendly visit,"

Billy swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on him. "I'm not ready to commit to anything. I still work for Murphy,"

There it was, the confession that had been sitting on the tip of his tongue for days, the admission that he was still tied to the man who had caused so much pain and suffering in this town. But there was something about Sam’s words, the way he spoke with such conviction, that made Billy wonder if maybe—just maybe—there was another way.

Sam didn’t push, didn’t try to sway him one way or the other. He just nodded again, a silent understanding passing between them.

"Just think about it," Sam said, his voice softer now, almost gentle, "Think about what side you really want to be on when the dust settles,"

[thecubspeaks]

It rains, just like Gale's knees promised, but not until it's very late. It would be the perfect moment to break up the party, but instead they huddle beneath one of the tents, Shadowheart and the druids taking turns to dispel the water when it pools too threateningly on the fabric roof above them, Wyll and Karlach on duty darting out into the rain from time to time to fetch more wine and whatever bits of food have remained sheltered and dry. Shadowheart has been free with hugging, dozens for everyone, and she knows it surprises them all to see her so openly affectionate, and she doesn't care. She introduces a fuming Tara to the owlbear cub and tells her he'll be coming home with them, and as the night draws on so long that she passes through drunken sleepiness and comes out the other side in a different, giddy kind of haze, she curls up against Gale's side and doesn't care that everyone sees him playing with her hair, idly tracing her hipbone with his thumb. Six months ago, when she was so anxious of being seen by the rest of the camp, feels like a lifetime away.

"Have you caught a cold?" she asks, amused, the third or fourth time Gale pulls away from her to sneeze.

"You've gotta get him out of that tower more, Fringe," Karlach says, sprawled out next to Scratch on the ground. "Can't even take a few hours in the rain anymore."

"Your endurance has eroded severely," Lae'zel agrees solemnly. "And it was never impressive."

Gale pinches Shadowheart. "Don't you dare."

"I said nothing!"

"You were preparing to. I could see it in your face. You-- eh--" He breaks off with another sneeze. "Pardon me!"

Shadowheart has used no magic today, so it's easy enough, despite the late hour, depite her head buzzing with wine. She straightens up and cups his face in her hands, whispers against his lips-- vincere est vivere-- and kisses it better.

+

Gale will never be what he was. Mystra does not say it when she takes the orb from him, she does not need to. His lost power will not return. But he has built new power. He doesn't mind, he says. The hard-won, he says, is the better loved.

His body, too, will never be what it was. That is slower to unfold. But come winter he's often sick-- often only small inconveniences, but twice that winter he wakes her, sweating and flushed with fever, and he begs her pardon again and again while she tells him her magic is more powerful in moonlight anyway, and in the morning he makes breakfast and says no more of it. After the second time, even after she heals him and one night while he's sleeping secretly tries it again, a cough rattles around in his chest until the spring comes.

He aches more, too-- his knees, his back, but also, she suspects, a twinging pain in his chest, where the scar used to be. She catches him rubbing it when he thinks no one is looking, just like he used to. She catches him wince.

"I'm much older than you, you know," she teases as she rubs his back one night, an evening stroll cut short by pain, and now they're home again.

"Ah, but I remember it all," he replies sagely. "The weight of memories-- it's not just a saying, actually. Terrible for your joints."

She pulls his hair and he flips around and tackles her onto the bed, and she thinks how neither of them ever knew before that you could be in love with someone who makes you laugh.

+

In the smothering dark of winter, Shadowheart reads the books she stole from the cloister. It's like a compulsion, some nights-- to hole up and secret and read her whole life laid out like an experiment. At least it's information, if it never can be memory.

Spring comes, and she says to Gale over breakfast, "In one of her diaries, the Mother Superior wrote that I always talk about going traveling. So I think we ought to give it a try."

"Oh, and we'll be taking her word on these matters, will we?" Gale says. "Far be it for me to suggest the destruction of knowledge, but... had I known you'd kept those books, I would have advised against it."

"She had no reason to lie, not in a private journal," Shadowheart says, irritated. Tara, sensing disagreement, jumps off of the windowsill and darts away.

"I simply don't think any good will come of trying to grasp at what you imagine your childhood self might have wanted, rather than thinking about what you want, here and now."

"I want to travel," Shadowheart says stubbornly. "If it's the academy you're worried about, we can wait until the summer. And it needn't be rustic, if you're really opposed. I've never even seen Daggerford, or Neverwinter. And then, once we've gotten the feel for it back--"

"I can't," he bites out.

"Blackstaff Academy will not burn to the ground in your--"

"I mean I can't," he snaps, sharper, and stands. He drags a hand over his face and then sits back down, already the sharp edges pulled back in. "I'm sorry. My love. But I-- I can't. I don't think I would stand up to the journey, I'm afraid. Perhaps a teleportation circle to Daggerford or Neverwinter for a day or two, but-- journeying again. Even taking the open roads... I don't think I can. No. I know I can't."

Shadowheart swallows back a healer's urge to fix it, a lover's urge to chastise herself for not seeing.

"Then we won't," Shadowheart says simply.

"No! Please, you must. I won't have life with me become just another cloister to pen you in. I would never forgive myself."

"I'll think about it." She reaches a hand across the table to him, and he takes it. "For now, I'm not ready to leave you behind."

"I don't want to hold you back."

His hand feels thin in hers. She squeezes it. "It's not about you, Gale. It's your cooking."

He laughs, and stands-- I can take a hint-- pancakes today, I think?-- and when he's distracted by Tara's abrupt return at the smell of melting butter and burns his fingers on the stove, Shadowheart can kiss it better.

[drgngutz]

8 - Coast - Luffy x f!soulmate!reader

Chapter 8

Taglist: @mystic60 , @louisechec , @pinksh1t , @violetmatcha , @urbisexualfriend

Masterlist!

Content below the cut!

"Here she is!" The cheery voice of the directress seemed to bounce off the walls of the brightly lit hallway. She was holding my smaller hand in hers, but I couldn't feel it. 

A couple, a man and a woman, stood side by side with smiles that gleamed like pearls against the yellowed paint. The ceiling above their heads chipped and cracked. 

A gasp, I flicked my eyes back to meet the woman. I had met them once before. Her eyes were blue. 

"Hello, (Y/n)!" She crouched, reaching out a hand. I shied away. She laughed. 

"We're taking you to your new home today, honey." 

The stairs creaked lowly beneath my feet as I clung to the weakly hung railing. The lights were dim, the wallpaper a dull gray, striped like thick prison bars. It smelled like dirt, and must. It was cold. 

"Here's your room!" The man pushed open the pale door in front of him, "Let us know if you need any help getting settled, okay?" 

Tip toeing around the door frame, a couple of children from inside skittered away when we met eyes. One hid beneath her bed sheets, another in the closet; they reminded me of the rats in the walls of the orphanage. A soft hand pushed me forward. The lights flickered. 

"We'll come up to get everyone for dinner in a little while..." 

I turned, the light dwindled in the room and shuddered, before it went dark. 

The sliver of light from the hallway dwindled, squeezing smaller and smaller as the door rasped. 

I could hear the rats squeaking from behind, getting closer, closer. 

'Thunk.'

It was dark. 

I gasped, back lifting from the hammock and arching forward as I wheezed. Gripping the sides for stability, I nearly swung over the edge and onto the floor. The ropes squealed in disapproval at the movement. I couldn't see them. It was still dark. 

Breathe in. A wave crashed against the hull, right on time; I was on the ship. That's right. I was on the Going Merry. 

I kept listening, eyes adjusting in the dark. Nami slept soundly on the bed. Robin's hammock was empty. The little candle in the corner was melting wax all over the table, nearly snuffed out now. Another wave sloshed against the boards. I breathed out. 

Up and out of bed, I moved as quietly as I could. Every groaning floorboard had me wincing, sneaking over to the bureau and opening the drawers so quietly that I'm sure even Nami would be impressed. 

Clothes in hand, I felt the sweat stick my shirt to my back. A late night shower would be good, probably. I wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon, anyways. But, maybe it would help make me drowsy, or something. I felt too gross to go back to sleep either way. 

I padded along barefoot; out the door, up the ladder, onto the deck, and into the bathroom.

Clothes on the counter, shower turned on, and stripped down bare; I stepped in. It was warm. Finally. 

Then, my head cleared, despite the mist fogging up the room. It was always hazy after dreams of the past - or, rather, nightmares. My old 'family' was a poor one, having only adopted the others and I for that monthly Subsidy Check. Memories from when I was little still managed to surface in my subconscious no matter how many times I tried to forget. 

They have been worse, lately. I was stressed. 

Slicking back my hair, I reached for the shampoo. 

---

Swinging the door open, leftover steam rushing out the door and disappearing, I threw my clothes and towels into the hamper. Turning into the cool night air, fingers combing through my wet hair, I looked up and stopped. 

We both blinked at each other, confused and standing in silent observation. At least, I think he was looking at me, his eyes were hazy and could barely stay open. He must've just woken up. 

"...Luffy?" My voice left with a puff of air, whispering in the quiet. Despite the dried drool on his chin, my skin crawled with his presence. He grunted, head tilting to the side as he lazily closed his eyes, before opening them back up in a slow blink; He reminded me of a cat. Sable eyes peered tiredly. 

My heart was melting.  

"Um," I was lost, "Why are you... awake?" 

I wasn't even sure if he was awake anymore. 

"I'm hungry..." He finally whines out, voice gritty as he stands straight with a yawn. Bleary eyes searched the dark, and I looked in the same direction. 

Ah. The kitchen.  

"I want a snack... Well, I think so… I want... something..." He mumbled, shuffling off to his new destination. 

"Okay..." I whispered, mostly to myself, before watching him disappear in the doorway. Shaking my head, goosebumps began to rise gently as I registered the chill around me. Shutting off the light, I moved to the stairs. 

The sky was clear; a perfect night to look at the stars. Since the shower hadn't worn me out as I had hoped, this was the next best step. 

Sitting down on the upper deck, I tucked my hair to the side and laid out on the floor. I stared upwards, past the towering sails and into the dark skies. 

The stars twinkled in the dark, glistening like far away diamonds against velvet cloth. The faint outline of purple and blue wisped around a dotted void; the milky way spreading far across the vast expanse of darkness. The moon was dark tonight, the stars illuminated even more without its radiance. 

A shadow passed close in the shape of a head, shaggy hair framing its outline as he blocked my view. He lifted the chunk of meat to his mouth, stuffing his cheeks as he chewed. His eyes were wide open this time, awake and alert after finding what he was looking for, and I squinted as a few crumbs fell onto my face. His characteristic straw hat wasn't anywhere to be seen right now. 

I swiped my fingers across my cheeks, sweeping the food away, before he spoke up. 

"What are you doing?" His voice grated in the silence, typical gruff, blunt attitude back now that he was fully awake. 

"Watchin' the stars." I whispered. For some reason, I felt a little more brave than usual. It could’ve been our most recent interaction fueling the emotion, feeling comforted by the brief moment shared at the fireworks. Or maybe it was because it was just us… At the same time, maybe I was just more tired than I thought.

"What are you doing?" I asked, as he still leaned over me. He hummed, furrowing his eyebrows. 

"I'm eating. What does it look like I'm doing?" I shrug, playing with the loose, dried skin of my healing fingers. The bandages had long been removed. 

"So, then," I felt my voice waver, eyes averting, "Why are you staring at me?" 

He paused, eyes blank. Then, he rips another chunk and shrugs back. It's hushed as he finishes the food swiftly, nearly sucking the bone dry from above me, and the waves rock the boat at an even pace. Then, the bone was tossed overboard, and he slumped to the ground. 

"What's so fun about watching the stars?" He sounded like a judge-y, stubborn little kid. A part of me cringed, fearing his judgment; but another, smaller part of me felt comfortable. This was something that I had dealt with hundreds of times before back home, something familiar when it came to handling kids. 

I wanted to laugh at the comparison of my soulmate to a little boy. 

"I just think they're pretty." I continue to stare ahead. 

'Fwump.' I whipped to look for the sudden source of the noise, only to find Luffy staring at me from a foot away. He was laying down too. Instead of laying directly next to me, though, he was laying with his body opposite to mine; our feet facing different directions, but still parallel. Both our heads were angled toward each other, a sideways slant on his mouth as he stared at me, seemingly pondering. 

"I couldn't sleep, for some reason." He admitted in a dismal voice, and I was taken aback. 

"Really?" I whispered back, still hushed despite the fact that he wasn't. 

At the moment, it was just the two of us. Nothing else. Not the ocean, or the boat, or the stars; just us. It felt strangely… intimate. 

"Yeah," He grunted, "I couldn't fall back asleep. I thought I was hungry, but I wasn't really. That's been happening a lot. I usually just fall back asleep, though." 

I furrowed my eyebrows, concerned. Was he feeling sick, maybe? 

"Actually, I thought I did fall asleep, and then I woke up outside the bathroom door." He was still staring, but he looked confused; like there was something else, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

Probably because the reason he wasn't sleeping was likely because of me. Because I wasn't sleeping, which was probably bleeding into his own sleep schedule due to our connection. It was one of the many things I had found that could happen with soulmates, back when I was doing research for my own sanity. 

I felt insanely guilty. 

"Oh," I looked away, "Sorry. That's my fault, I guess..." 

"Huh?" 

"Well, the... the soulm-- the bond, y'know?" He didn't say anything, despite my odd cutoff. 

"I haven't been sleeping well... so, it's probably my fault that you keep waking up; that's what I'm saying. I’m sorry." I could still feel the burn of his gaze even after I got the words out. He had such an intensity about him, one that I hadn't ever felt with anyone else before. He made me so nervous. 

"Wait," He squawked, "You've been waking up every night, then?"

"Um. Yeah." I looked down, messing with the fabric of my shirt. It felt like the admittance would get me in trouble; I was a little girl again, telling the directors of the orphanage about my childish wrongdoings. 

"Why?" His questions continued, still looking at me. 

I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t think he would react well if he found out that I was having trouble sleeping mostly because of him, at least from what I could tell. I didn’t want him to be upset. 

"Is something wrong? Sanji said you were having some problems, and Nami said--" 

"I'm just not sleeping very well." I interrupted with a lie. The words came out a little too fast, a little too defensive. I flinched, not ready for that conversation. Not yet. 

"Oh." He sounded dissatisfied. I deflated. He would be upset either way, apparently. 

"I-It's fine." I cleared my throat, not sure if I was reassuring him or myself. 

Silence. The wind cried softly at the awkward situation. 

Find something to say, anything, I begged myself. I prayed he couldn't see me panicking inwardly as I sought to find a remedy for the situation. 

"I've never seen so many stars before. A-At least before I got on this ship..." Idiot. Really? Back to the stars again? At last, he turns away and looks at the sky.

"That's weird, we see these every night pretty much." He spoke, disinterested. 

"Every night?" I ask, quickly trying to alleviate my anxieties with the view. 

"Yep." A teeny, tiny streak of light passes overhead. A shooting star. 

"Oh, look! Make a wish, make a wish!" He excitedly called, pointing excitedly as he sat up. 

"Woah," I breathe, watching even more appear from the shade, "I never could've imagined seeing something like this before, when I lived in the city. We could never see stars like this there." 

"For real?" Luffy looks down at me, eyebrows lifted on his face in shock. It takes one look at my awed-out face for him to grin, before giggling. 

"Yeah, there’s too much light pollution to see the sky in the city. And I've never left home before now, so this is my first time seeing anything like this." I shrug, trying to ignore his laughter, thinking he was making fun. 

"Wait, so that means you haven't had any adventures… have you?" He suggested, and I finally looked up at him; his tone sounded almost teasing. He looks eager, excited. He leans over, awaiting my answer. I shy away sheepishly from the brightness of his grin and his prying eyes. 

"Well, no--" The blush came quickly, his body leaning over mine from the side. He practically leaps at the admittance. 

"Awesome! I can't wait!" He cheers, and I'm afraid he'll be too loud and wake the whole crew. 

“Um… Can’t wait for what?” I ask timidly. 

"Just wait, we're gonna' go on so many adventures, eat so much food," He drools, before raising finger and pointing to the sky, "We'll see so many places and things and people. Stuff that’s even better than a shooting star!" 

"I wish you could've been there for our last adventure in Alabasta," He continued, not letting me speak. But my voice doesn't work from the sincerity in his words, anyways. 

"It was amazing!" 

And so, he continued, rambling into the night about their most recent travels. I had heard some of the story from Robin and the others, so I knew bits and pieces already; but to hear my soulmate tell it, in all his excitement and inconsistent story telling… it was different. I could've sat there for hours listening to him list off the parts of the story, even if they were out of order and therefore didn't make sense at times. He chattered and waved his arms ecstatically, and we had barely noticed the hour pass us by. 

From the way my heart warmed with happiness, I wasn't sure if it was because he was talking to me, or if it was from his own joyfulness. Right now, I didn't care what the reason was. I was content, for once.

"I can't wait to see where we go next." He delighted with a giggle, finishing his retelling. 

"Me, too." I add quietly, still looking at him. I hadn't realized, but I was smiling. Only a little bit, though. 

"And then, when it's over, I'll find the One Piece and become King of the Pirates!" He shouted with glee, before subsiding and looking back down at me. 

"I just realized I never actually asked," He grinned, "Do you have a dream?" 

My smile faltered, reminded of the conversation between Nami and I not so long ago. His head tilted at the sight. 

"Uh... well." I stopped short, hesitating. Now was my chance. I could just say it, right here, right now. Tell him the honest truth. My stomach flipped, and I opened my lips. 

You are my dream.

"My dream... I'll... Tell you some other time." My words betrayed my thoughts. Cowardice crawled and settled into the holes of my chest defiantly. 

"Oh, come on!" He whined, pouting.

"Tell me, tell me, tell me!" He chanted, and I shook my head with my lip bit between my teeth. 

"Please?" He begged, bowing closer, "Is it a secret? I won't tell anyone, I swear!" 

"No offense, but I don't really believe that,” I smiled a bit, “Sorry, you'll just have to wait." 

"Awh," He droned in a groaning voice, "Why not?" 

"I don't want to tell anyone, just yet. I will soon, 'kay?" 

"Yeah, whatever. Why soon? I wanna know now." He mumbled, arms crossed and glowering, annoyed. He began to mutter something under his breath, and I heard the word 'soulmate' somewhere in the hushed sulking. I ignore the pinch of doubt in my chest. 

"Sorry." I shrug again, and he just sighs. 

“No you’re not!” I fool myself into thinking he's done, before he's once again back to pestering me for an answer. 

Through my denial, and his shouts of frustration, Robin leans over the crows nest in the dark. She peers down at us, as she had been throughout the entire conversation, with a smile on her lips. Initially, she had been worried about the Captain’s inability to recognize the importance of a soulmate, combined with your self-doubt and self-destructive tendencies. 

But now, she knew everything would be alright. 

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

Friendship, Like a Mirror's Shards

They stood as friends ready to be divided, and already feeling the divide in their souls.

"I'll miss you," said Anneka for the hundredth time.

"It's only a couple of months," said Sadie, in a voice that was supposed to be comforting and didn't quite manage it. "It'll be over before you know it!"

Anneka frowned and picked a daisy, tearing off the petals one by one. "It still feels like a long time. You've never gone away this long in my entire life."

Sadie tried to smile, failed, and grabbed for Anneka instead. They clung to each other like each had found a port in the storm.

"Is it possible to love someone too much?" asked Anneka, voice wavering. "Maybe you're being taken away because I care about you too much." She always cared more about people than they cared about her; it was just a fact of life.

Sadie laughed. "Honey, no. We're going for a holiday, it's not - it's not the end of the world, you know?"

Anneka tore the last petal off the daisy and dropped the stem. She wanted to say that it felt like it. She wanted to say that she loved Sadie more than anyone in the world. She wanted to ask her if she truly found her annoying.

She said nothing.

"But, listen, you've reminded me - I wrote a letter, and you mustn't read it unless you're terribly lonesome. Promise?"

"Promise." Anneka received the dainty pink missive with eager hands and wished she'd written one too. "What does terribly mean? In this context."

"I don't know. Like you can't bear it."

"All right." She put it in her pocket, feeling a little cheered up. "I'll do my best."

~

The time, as one might expect, passed. Anneka moped for a while, then decided to put her best face on and pretend she wasn't broken up by Sadie's absence. She walked and rode and practised a few things she'd been meaning to get around to for a long, long time. The letter burned in her pocket, and one day she put it in a drawer, underneath her clothes, and left it there. No matter how much she wanted to, she kept putting off reading it, in case she wanted it more later.

Once Sadie came back, she forgot about it.

~

Anneka pulled things out of her drawers in a hurry, mind whirling. She wasn't going to bring everything, not right now; but she did need at least a couple of changes of clothing. She scrambled through the sorting to shove things into a small case, rather haphazardly, dumping other things in piles on the floor. When she came back for the rest, she'd clean it up. No need to get it all now, especially since Vaniah would be waiting for her.

She got to the bottom of the drawer and paused in surprise at a pink letter, inscribed in a child's large hand with her own name. Memories came flooding back, and she wondered suddenly how Sadie was. They'd fallen out of touch last year, and Sadie had since shifted to a town four hours away. Despite their closeness as children, as adults they only retained a general sense of acquaintance. They didn't really know each other now.

She must remember to write to Sadie and tell her of the wedding, probably send pictures of the ring and all that. Sadie had been interested in weddings as a child, liking the dress-up aspect of them despite not being interested in having one herself. Anneka wondered how she was doing with the law now. She should write and ask.

She opened the letter carefully, reading it despite the time she was taking doing so. By the end she was crying.

~

Dear Anneka,

I'm going to miss you. I hope you know how much you mean to me and always will. No matter what happens in our lives, we'll still be a part of each other, won't we? I think people are like smashed mirrors and we all pick up a bit of each other and reflect them. I thought you were the poetic one, but leavetaking brings out the poet in me, or something.

When you're fearfully lonely, I hope you read this letter and remember how much I love you. Imagine me hugging you really tight right now. This is only a letter so I can't, not really, but it can help, can't it?

I think people underestimate how much little things can help. Letters, or telling people you were thinking of them, or any of that kind of thing. When you think about it, we're really made up of all the little things, aren't we? Life isn't about the big choices - well, not completely - it's about the everyday moments and the time we spent together and the laughter we shared. The little choices every moment, to choose friendship or apathy. Apathy is dangerous, Anneka. It's the worst thing you can succumb to, I think. Even worse than actively wrong things, you know?

Letting people slip away is so easy and yet it's the thing we must prevent above all else. It's dangerous. I hope I don't do the same with you, Anneka. I love you too much to let you go. (I wonder how much the people who do let one another walk away feel like that at the start anyway?)

(Surely having tried and having loved and having felt is enough sometimes. Surely sometimes you're just not going to hold on to a friendship. Maybe it was worth it all the way along even if it isn't forever. Treasure the moments regardless of their longevity, if they're important.)

I don't know. I get existential sometimes, you know? I like to write and I like to love and even more, I like to be loved. I still love you, Anneka. I will even if we get to the stage where we can't tell each other. It's still here inside me. Is that where it matters most?

Sadie

~

When she got to the home that would be hers from now on, Anneka's first task was filling her drawers with clothing. She put the letter underneath, carefully, where she could read it again. Maybe someday she'd show Vaniah.

~

tagging @silent-silver-slip who got me thinking about the whole concept of friendship and losing friendships and it still being important anyway

[underforeversgrace]

memories of the grave

DannyMay 2023 Day 18: Grave

title: memories of the grave

Words: 2166

Complete

Warning: Major Character Death and Everlasting Trio

Summary/Excerpt: Songfic to the song Sacred by Citizen Soldier - He frequently thought about death. His death, at least.

~~~~~~

Chasing ghosts, chasing dreams

What is next? What might be?

Never content, always hungry

Overlook this moment and you'll be sorry

It was, unsurprisingly, Jazz who first brought it up, towards the end of high school.

“You’ve gotten taller!” She said, clapping her hands together in excitement.

“Uh, yeah? People do that?” Danny answered, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah. People do.” She’d responded, giving him a Look.

“Jazz, Vlad’s aged. We already knew I would. We just don’t know what happens… later. As far as Vlad can tell from the tests he ran after his accident, he’ll still die, he just may live longer than expected, though. Everything’s fine.” Danny said, waving his hand boredly as though brushing the topic away. Sure, death was something he often thought about, there wasn’t really any avoiding it with how injured he got - even if he did disregard the whole half-ghost-half-dead-kid thing. Honestly, he didn’t think he’d live long enough to have a natural death regardless, not with how often he got his ass handed to him, even if that was growing less and less often. He frequently thought about death.

His death, at least.

Don't take the ones you love for granted, not for a second

If you do you've got the rest of your life left to regret it

You're gonna miss these days, I hope you never forget it

The present is precious

It was in his mid-20s, after successfully completing college and graduating easily, his secret long since exposed, that he realized he loved Sam and Tucker more than anything else in the world. They had been roommates their entire college career and when it came time to leave, he didn’t want to. He’d lost track of the number of times they’d ended up all sleeping in one person’s bed, platonically snuggling into each other as they studied and quizzed each other until they all succumbed to exhaustion.

He’d felt nothing but relief when, three days before they were all set to go their own ways, Sam called a meeting and disclosed she felt the same way, Tucker and Danny’s confessions following. 

It helped that being ‘weird’ or doing things an uncommon way was just a state of life for the trio at this point. Side effect of one of them being a ghost superhero and his friends. So all loving each other… it had come easily. Sleeping every night in the same bed, swathed in love and happiness, was just that - easy.  

You get one life, one chance

Give it everything 'cause this is all we have

If this day was your last

Could you hold your head high? Could you live with that?

So take it in, just embrace the adrenaline

This is sacred, we'll never get it back again

It was in their 30s, when they started genuinely discussing adopting a child, that the realization hit. Danny had stopped growing. While lines and the occasional gray hair had begun to show on his lovers, Danny’s face remained unchanged. No laugh lines, no wrinkles, nothing. Still, they kept their belief that it was just Danny aged slowly.

The topic of kids never came back up. Danny always felt like that was his fault, despite Sam and Tucker’s constant reassurances otherwise.

Wasted time, wasted love

What you have now, why can't that be enough?

What you're most terrified to lose

Take it for granted when it's right in front of you

Jack would be the first person Danny ever truly lost. Sure, he’d lost his grandparents as a child, but he barely knew them. But this was his father, who had lifted him above his head and ran around while Danny pretended to be a rocket. Who helped him with his homework, who wholeheartedly accepted Danny when he’d come out to them - both as a ghost and as having two lovers.

Who didn’t listen when his doctors told him he needed to take better care of his health, who didn’t lay off the fudge when they suggested it.

His father’s grave was the first Danny had ever stood next to and sobbed, beside his sister and mom, Sam and Tucker trying to soothe him in a situation that knew only grief. Danny and Jazz had handled the burial, the finances, letting their mother grieve the loss of the love of her life.

Yeah, you're such a slave to anxiety

Your future, your past, pulling you away

It made you so blind, now that must change

'Cause right now with who you love, this is everything

Maddie didn’t outlive Jack by more than a few months. She went peacefully in her sleep at home, at least, didn’t have to suffer through heart failure in a hospital until her last breath.

Danny had taken over the funeral arrangements for his mother, burying her beside his father. Jazz kept trying to help but he could practically feel her pain and grief every time she tried to do so. There was more to do with their mother’s passing. With both parents gone, it fell to their kids to close bank accounts, to notify friends, to sort through documents upon documents, to decide what to do with the house, which had long since been transformed back into a normal family home, when even Maddie could no longer chase ghosts. They knew Danny would do it, after all. They’d had faith in him - in Phantom - even before Danny had confessed. It had been their slow acceptance of his ghost side that had allowed him the confidence to tell them, after all.

When he stood over his father’s grave again, now with his mother’s headstone beside it, he hadn’t even been able to hold himself up on his own two feet. Sam and Tucker had been just as instrumental then as they had been every other time in his life.

You get one life, one chance

Give it everything 'cause this is all we have

If this day was your last

Could you hold your head high? Could you live with that?

So take it in, just embrace the adrenaline

This is sacred, we'll never get it back again

Vlad lived almost another decade beyond Danny’s parents. It was only a few months before Vlad passed that the three of them - now nearly fifty - had to accept fact.

Danny had stopped aging. He forever looked like a college student. Sam and Tucker had begun to pull away from him. He just looked too young and it made them uncomfortable. He’d understood, when they began to pull physical intimacy away from him. He couldn’t blame them.

He’d forever be grateful they never asked him to stop curling up in the bed with them, long since used to the chill of his core, safe with the people he loved.

Vlad’s best guess was since Danny’s fusion with the ectoplasm had been so much smoother, so much more instantaneous than Vlad’s own, is why Danny stopped aging while Vlad continued. Danny was truly half and half - Vlad wasn’t.

Again, Danny was the one left handling the funeral and Vlad’s substantial wealth. Vlad had mellowed out towards the end of Danny’s high school career and they had bonded in that time. Vlad had genuinely become something of an uncle or godfather in Danny’s life. At least Vlad had a will. Danny mainly just had to sign off on some papers occasionally.

When he cried over this grave, Sam and Tucker to either side of him, he mourned more than just Vlad. He was the only halfa in the world, he was the only one of a species. And as he watched his friends, the two people he loved most in the world, age, he feared when he would be entirely alone. Even at fourteen, he’d known the consequences of immortality and been relieved he wouldn’t have to face them.

Now he was facing eternity on his own and he didn’t know what to do.

In this moment, will you live?

Embrace the unknown, your past forgive?

Every minute's a priceless gift

It's all yours, so what you gonna do with it?

Jazz’s funeral was the first he didn’t have to help with, allowed to just grieve. Her son - already in his thirties, Danny remembered when he was born - had handled everything, allowing Danny to simply be. Her son had been confused by Danny, he hadn’t met his uncle since he was a young child. That had been a decision Jazz and Danny had come to together, as ghosts faded back to myth, as his identity fell into legend.

He had never met any of her other children, all born later, though Jazz had made sure to keep him up to date on everything in her life. So he couldn’t blame them for staring at him - an apparent 20-something year old man sobbing until he couldn’t breathe over their mother’s grave.

If they recognized him from her wedding pictures, from where he’d been best man, they didn’t mention it.

Danny couldn’t help but avoid Jazz’s second son. Named Daniel, in honor of Jazz’s lost brother. In honor of him.

Don't take the ones you love for granted, not for a second

You're gonna miss these days, yeah, the present is precious

When Tucker died, Danny thought he would, too, his core ached so deeply. They’d known it was coming. Tucker had gotten pneumonia and fallen and in his advanced age - nearly eighty five now - his odds had never looked good.

Danny hated how helpless he felt then, waiting for the man he loved to die, watching him wither away the longer he was in the hospital - somewhere Tucker hated so fiercely. It was a small miracle he’d never really regained true consciousness after the fall. He’d have hated this so much. 

He had so much power yet he could do nothing against human illness, against the march of time, no matter how much he pleaded with Clockwork, how much he begged to not be left behind.

He’d lived long enough, he was ready to rest. Over eighty years was a good run, he’d had a good life.

“I’m sorry, child,” Clockwork had said, and Danny believed him. “I cannot intervene. Even Pariah Dark could not kill you now. You are strong and your core is long matured. Everything will be okay.”

Still, that didn’t keep him from crying when he was in Tucker’s room as the heart monitor flatlined and never restarted.

You get one life, one chance

Give it everything 'cause this is all we have

If this day was your last

Could you hold your head high? Could you live with that?

So take it in, just embrace the adrenaline

This is sacred, we'll never get it back again

Sam went next, several years later. Every time he’d had to fill out paperwork for her, listing himself as a family friend instead of what he was - her husband, her lover - his heart had broken. But she was over ninety when she died. And he was forever twenty five.

He’d buried them beside each other, just like his parents had been. They’d spent their entire lives together, after all. It made sense for their bodies to rest near each other forever.

“Well, that turn out was more than I expected.” Sam said to his side, pulling Danny from the graves at his feet. He turned to her and smiled. Death had returned her to her youth and she grinned at him, floating a few feet to his side, clad in clothes made of plants, gently coaxing some flowers out of the ground.

“I still had more!” Tucker protested to his other side and Danny laughed. While Tucker had accepted the pharaoh aesthetic upon his death, he still looked like an ancient Egyptian mixed with Technus, technology even now his third love (after Sam and Danny, who tied for first, of course, he insisted).

“Yeah, ‘cuz they hadn’t died yet!” Sam shot back. “You can’t compare it when half the people we knew have kicked the bucket since your funeral!”

Comfort surrounded Danny, filled the air. They had stayed, they had clung to life so fiercely after death, just so he wouldn’t be alone. And as soon as Sam had died, Clockwork had arrived and married them the way they never could have in life.

“Oh shut up, guys,” Danny joked, rolling his eyes and jumping up, letting his transformation to Phantom slide over him. “Let’s go home.”

As the three flew away, playfully chasing and dodging each other, Danny let himself feel a comfort he hadn’t in fifty years, finally no longer being left behind, and remembered what Clockwork had said at the end of the trio’s ghostly wedding.

He’d placed his hand on Danny’s shoulders and smiled. “I told you everything would be okay.”

One life, one chance

So take it in, just embrace the adrenaline

If this day was your last

This is sacred, we'll never get it back again

Song: Sacred - Citizen Soldier

[smuttydreambarbie]

Get A Room by smuttydreambarbie

Hello friends! It's been a while since I've written but I got that ACOTAR bug and now I have so many stories floating in my head that I needed to get out. So here they are :)

This takes place around ACOMAF but there are no major plot spoilers.

Enjoy some annoying PDA Feyre x Rhysand romancing ;) Its short and sweet, so I'm very happy with the possibilities!!

Follow for Part 2 :)

"Not here," I said breathlessly.

A small chuckle came before my lips, and it roared into a full belly laugh before I even realized it. He smiled and pulled at my waist, pulling me against him even closer. I was sitting next to him on the ornate velvet couch, one of my legs draped over one of his.

His hands danced into dangerous territory.

With his touch came a memory: the first time I felt our bodies together, practically naked in front of the Court of Nightmares.

"They all should have known from that moment that you were my High Lady. Their," he purred, "High Lady."

Our bodies were indeed only slightly more turned towards each other, but we were now tangled together in our web of power and lust just as we were that day. We were in the living room, with all of our friends in the dining room of our townhome.... And we were making out like teenagers. It was so silly, she had to laugh.

"I glamoured us away, Feyre Darling," he said into my neck, his left hand cupping the back of it, fingers intertwined through my hair. Pulling my neck up to arch it towards him, he spoke, "Not that I even remotely care, or that they aren't used to it by now, hidden or not." To that we both smiled guiltily, his nose tickling my throat. We both felt a certain kind of spark, knowing that we each held the power to hide ourselves out in the open, vanishing everyone from our view and vice versa whenever we had a quiet moment gone ravenous.

When you remember to, she chuckled to herself, but also to him through the bond.

When I am not too enthralled with your gorgeous body, he whispered back in silence, hands still wandering. Touching every bit of exposed skin he could reach.

Nowadays they almost always kept a sliver of their bond open, a spoken agreement between the two of them that they want their mate to know what goes on in their mind. They didn't see it as an invasion, or a thing to see as anything other than the closest form of intimacy. Of course she shut him out occasionally, or purposefully blocked out things she felt unready to share. But to Feyre? Having someone as an extension of herself, whom she loved with every atom of her being... That was her most precious gift in life.

"You are my favorite pain in my ass," I murmured, trying to ignore that part of that sentence was half whispered into a moan as he got a little braver with his touch. I gasped as he moved to grab my breast, "How am I supposed to look my friends in the eye when they most definitely know what is going on in here after a while!" I pulled back to look at him, putting his face between my hands. They were nose to nose. He grinned mischievously as I spoke eloquently, "I understand that I am High Lady and you are my High Lord, and we are mates..."

"My mate," he growled as he pulled away and bit at my ear, at that one spot behind it that he knew my knees buckled for.

"BUT, Rhysand," I said, my hand still on one side of his head by his ear and neck, pulling him back where I had previously captured him with a hook of my fingers. He dramatically grimaced as I continued, eyebrows raising at his full name on her lips, "you can at least be a gentleman and excuse us to our room for.... A bit."

At that, he jumped into action.

I felt the magic shielding their view drop, and I sighed as I fixed myself up a bit. I swooned as I realized he watched me do so to ensure I was ready, before ignoring that sense of care by picking me up in his arms, throwing me over his shoulder, smacking my bum, and shouting to the entire house: "We'll be off doing High Lord and Lady things!" His face held the grandest, proudest smile that stretched across his whole face. I laughed hysterically, and knew that if they hadn't known what that meant before, they certainly did now.

I heard several voices laugh from down the hall and assumed it was an agreement of their love for them.... Knowing when to leave.

Now, alone on the stairs, Rhys pulled me backwards so that he was carrying me in a straddling position, still climbing. Such an incredible show of strength, yet he moved with effortless grace. I sat upon his strong, muscular body and I looked into his beautiful violet eyes, firey with passion. I could cry each time I looked upon that face. My mates face. She wanted to, and planned on, kissing that face for the rest of her immortal life. And with that thought, she did just that.

"I love you so much," I spoke slowly, before wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. I did not give him a chance to respond after the kiss before I loudly demanded:

"Now show me what High Lord and High Lady things are... Exactly."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, as he pushed us into the doorway of our room, and onto the freshly made bed.

To Be Continued....

[mara-and-its-the-same]

Chapter 8

This one....is a doozy, It's Robin and Eddie's graduation party!! YAAAYYY!!!! Ummm, Warnings are that Robin's dad is hot, everyone has a crush on him and he's her british step dad. Then also it's y/n's first time meeting Steve's parent's for real, so drinking, smoking, language as always, and also meat and Robin's non-binary cousin that uses they/them (not a warning, I just don't want anyone to get confused while reading) WC: 6.9k

Hawkins High's class of '86's graduation ceremony was kept rather short and sweet. 

Short because there were so few graduates left in town; sweet because they were able to make it more personable to those left. Nancy made a speech about how everyone made so many memories at Hawkins High, "some good, some bad" and she glanced at Steve then cleared her throat. Robin and Eddie rolled their eyes, the kids kept their thoughts to themselves. Except Mike, who couldn't hold back a scoff that was way too loud for such a small audience of only around 200, including parents, grandparents, extended family and friends. Steve only gave y/n's hand that was resting on his knee a squeeze. "We've come so far from the kids we once were and now we're facing this new chapter of our lives, but we'll always have this to look back on." With the way the seating chart panned out, Eddie was right behind Robin so he leaned over her shoulder and whispered "I'd really rather not." She dipped her head to stifle her snort but only laughed harder when her cap fell off. Nancy saw the whole thing but carried on as usual, "Go Tigers!"

Robin was the tenth person called but still got the loudest cheers so far. She nearly tripped on the way up when the rubber sole on the toe of her Mary-Jane stuck to the laminate floor for half a second. Only Eddie noticed and snickered behind her while she not-so discreetly gave him the finger behind her back. She took her diploma and shook hands with the administrators, then hugged her drama teacher and made her way back to her seat. 11 letters later, it was finally Eddie Munson's time to shine. The whole group knew his plan so they kept clapping and cheering when he haughtily shook every hand. Except when he got to the teachers who were always harder on him than the other kids, and he just held up both middle fingers while still holding his diploma. He walked backwards until he spun around and ran down the stairs and out the door with his gown billowing behind him. The principal just shook his head and his muttered whispers of ‘took him long enough,’ were lightly picked up by the mic. The whole time Wayne and all of Hellfire club were giving a standing ovation in their matching shirts. 

***

The party was held in the Buckley's backyard. Mike, Will and El had to go to Nancy and Jonathan's party so they only hugged Robin and Eddie at the end of the ceremony then left with their families. Joyce gave them both big hugs and Hopper shook their hands and said some variation of "Great job, kid."

It was wall to wall Buckleys, well more like treeline to treeline, but you get the idea. Her mom has 5 siblings and she has a lot of great aunts and uncles. And by extension, a fuck ton of cousins. The younger ones zipped through the yard while her parents dragged her to say hello to everyone "Thank you for coming. How's (Sam) Sam doing, haven't seen him in a while." Her mom would tell her the names of children, spouses, etc. through clenched teeth then pull her on to the next guest.

"I think this has got to be a fire hazard." y/n said while her eyes scanned the vast backyard filled with people and food and folding tables.

"What? The number of people or that very unpromising grill situation over there?" There were at least 5 men, all armed with tongs, arguing over times and temperatures and y/n was sure she saw one actually threaten the other over the mention of a well done steak.

"She obviously means how hot Robin's stepdad is." Eddie scoffed at Steve's question then puffed the wind knocked out of him by Steve's elbow. "What?! It's true, look at him! I'd go to college just for that. I wouldn't, obviously but, I mean, that is a gorgeous man." He wasn't wrong. Mr. Buckley was hot, like hot hot. And the fact that he didn't know it, or at least acted like he didn't, just added to the allure. "And that accent, oh my god, strike me down."

"I'm honestly about to." Steve looked at Eddie with a stern expression but he only returned with his signature lopsided grin.

"Why, jealous big boy?" Steve looked like he was either about to punch or kiss Eddie, these days, who can tell. Either way, y/n got between them and pulled them inside by their arms before he got the chance.

"You are both ridiculous." Once they got to a tighter hallway she dropped their arms but they still followed her lead out the front door. "But so very right." 

"What!?"

"See Harrington! She gets it."

"How could you not? He's fuckin gorgeous, and an English lit professor, and a total feminist, and oh my god, I slept over like a week ago or somethin' like that and then we were talking about the queer themes of Emily Dickinson's poems and then he just recited "Wild Nights" and his voice ugh I thought I was gonna melt. Didn't last though because Robin yelled at me." She opened the back door and reached across Eloise's car seat to get the purple holographic gift bag. She was up on her toes and had one foot popped in the air to lean in.

"You gonna leave me for Robin's stepdad now?" Steve crossed his arms and gave his best Jake Ryan-style smolder with a short laugh. 

"Are you?" She turned around with a cocked eyebrow and the bag hanging off one finger.

"Touche." He smiled at the ground to hide the very very faint blush.

"Oooh, Robin's taught you well. Excellent travail, mon chéri." 

"Enough of that you bilingual bastards, gimme that." Eddie took his graduation present and dug through the tissue paper to pull out a tall obsidian tower, a blue tiger's eye, and a rose quartz necklace. He kept going through to find some cassettes they knew he didn't have yet because they made sure to look through all of his shelves and every compartment of his car. 

"This thing is very metal." He held up the Obsidian to watch it shine in the sunlight. 

"Thank you."

"It took me forever to finally find a good store so expect more, and I'll probably make you come with me because I'll need your van to get that massive amethyst."

"It won't fit in the truck?" Eddie was surprised a crystal could even be that big.

"I don't want it to get banged up, when it's in the van it'll at least be indoors."

"The thing’s massive, dude. The vibes are gonna be so lifted, or whatever that one's meant for. I still don't really get it, but if you guys like it..."

"It's for balance, tranquility, stuff like that." She explained.

"When do you need to get it?"

"Just whenever but I was hoping to get it next week?"

"Great, we'll make a day of it."

"Perfect!" She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "Now, let's get back to the party."

She started walking away but Steve and Eddie just stood there staring at each other. Eddie winked at him and Steve half laughed-half scoffed before closing the few paces between him and y/n and catching her by the hand. 

"Hmmm, possessive much?" She giggled.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He brought the back of her hand up to his lips. 

"Hmmm. We should probably try to save Wayne from Mr. Buckley introducing him to everyone. Or at least Robin from her cousins." She gave him a quick kiss and squeezed his hand before going back out to the yard. 

Even though it was light, only lasted a nanosecond, and they'd been together for 2 months now, spending practically every minute together; it still felt like that time Robin made him try buzzing lip balm. He licked his lips and flexed his hands in a vain attempt to do something about the fizzy feeling that washed over every place she touched, every time.

***

Robin's stepdad, Tom, was pulling Wayne Munson all around his backyard. He had a natural talent for getting people out of their shells, he jokes it's because he worked for a seafood restaurant with rather pretentious clientele in grad school. He and Steve got along because they both always found something interesting about people, always something to talk about or in common. That's why Tom could carry a conversation with the most arrogant of professors just as easily as he could with his very rural brothers-in-law. And why Steve could do the same with the other members of Hellfire and Corroded Coffin, and his parents' business friends. 

"Pat, lovely seeing you, this is Mr. Munson. His nephew is one of Robin's friends, they graduated together." Tom held one of Wayne's shoulders while he introduced him to one of Robin's uncles.

"Wayne, hi." He shook the other man's hand.

"Pat Buckley. Munson? Your boy Eddie Munson?"

"Uh yeah."

"Good thing the Chief got that kid's name cleared. Didn't believe it for a second, all because a' some game? My dau- sorry, my kid plays it all the time. Sure, I don't get it but it makes 'em happy. Who am I to say no?" They sat on the folding chairs and talked about their kids' affinity for such a strange game, the rapidly declining quality of their shared cigarette brand, and the different burning qualities of different types of wood. And other common middle aged man topics of conversation.

***

By the end of the night y/n, Steve, and Robin were certain Eddie had flirted with each and every cousin of hers over the age of 18. Finally he landed on Mars.

They had a lot in common with him. He was drawn in by their style and tattoos, one of which was a D20, which only sealed the deal.

"Introduce me," He whispered to Robin who was talking with her aunt about studying abroad.

"What? To who?" She craned her neck to the side to look at him. He nodded his head back to the person being swallowed whole by their flannel and black hair curling 3/4 of the way down their back with the under half dark blue. "Oh! Mars? Yeah they're cool. You'll like them."

"Mars!" Robin walked over and Eddie followed. Mars set down the can of hard cider next to their doc Martens. 

"Hey, Rob! How's it goin'?" Their voice had a certain grate to it that Eddie found wildly attractive. 

"It's going, how're you?"

"I've been alright, but you remember that guy, the one with that god awful band?"

"Riley?"

"Yeah, well you remember how I said how I thought it was going well? Mhm, yeah turns out he was just waiting for me to 'grow out of'." They gestured up and down their body. "Soooo he had to go."

"Oh I'm sorry, if it's any consolation I always thought his band was shit. And he sucks at guitar, no offense."

"None taken, he was never very good with his hands anyway. Now I'm just looking for cheap beer, a little less cheap weed, and an even cheaper rebound." They punctuated with another swig of cider.

Eddie stepped forward from beside Robin and held out his hand, palm up. "Eddie Munson, lovely to meet you."

"Mars Buckley, enchanté." They slipped their hand into his and he bowed down to place a kiss to the back of it, never breaking eye contact. Robin only backed away before it became too much.

When Eddie stood back up he pulled their arm closer to him. "I noticed your tattoos, the patch work suits you. But this is quite beautiful." He meant the landscape swirling around their right forearm. 

"The Shire, and the sun's a D20, see?"

"Metal." They pulled his arm forward to look at his puppet master tattoo.

"Did you get this before, or after the song came out?"

"Before, looong before. I was like 16 when I got it."

"Metal."

"Very."

"I love Robin to death but obviously she's too absorbed with everyone else for our poor souls at the moment, so d'you wanna get out of here, we could get on my bike and be back by the time all the kids leave and before anyone notices we're gone."

"I would love to."

***

"Hey, uh any of you kids seen Eddie 'round here?" Wayne asked as Steve and y/n were passing by.

"I think I saw him leave with one of Robin's cousins. Huge flannel, long black hair," y/n offered.

"That'd be Mars, my kid, they get a little overwhelmed at these kinda things. Probably just went out for some air. They should be back soon." Pat added.

"Steve, y/n," Robin called, running over to them. "You guys need anything? No! Good, great. My mom says I'm not hostessing enough but like why should I have to host when I'm supposed to be the guest of honor. Anyway, you gotta help me. In about 5 minutes I'm about to be inundated with aunts asking where my boyfriend is. Even though most of them are pretty progressive, there's still a few outliers who still don't get that I'm not the gay cousin because there's literally 6 of us. That we know of! Like aunt Rosie thought Mars was just really into mythology and not really into mythology, if ya catch my drift. So please, just help me out here."

"How?"

"I don't know, hide me."

"Just sit with us Rob, they won't bother us if we just ignore them." Pat said and slid down the picnic bench to offer her a seat. 

"What about you guys?" She looked up at y/n and Steve.

"I mean, I was gonna go talk to Tom for a little bit. Feels like I haven't seen him all day." Y/n spun on her heel but Steve caught her arm and spun her back around and she had a big smile with the tip of her tongue on her canine.

"She means we're gonna go."

"I hate you dinguses!"

Steve kept walking but y/n spun around and blew her a big kiss. "Love you too, Rob. Fly high my friend."

"She's so weird." Robin shook her head.

"No weirder than Eddie," Wayne said.

"That's true."

***

"Are you sure you don't need anymore help with anything Mrs. Buckley? I'd be- We'd be more than happy to stay."

"No, Steve, really go enjoy your night. And, thank you for coming." She put a hand on his arm and gave him a soft smile that he sweetly returned.

"Thank you for having me."

"Thank you, Mrs. Buckley. See you Thursday, was it?" Y/n hugged her goodbye.

"Yes, thank you for coming and I'm sure Robin will love the fresh perspective. See you then."

 Steve cocked an eyebrow. "Book club, Emily Dickinson," she explained.

"You have to stop stealing all our friends' parents."

"Never!" She skipped out the door to his car. He took his time, in no rush to get home. He pulled the keys from his back pocket and unlocked the door for her. 

Five minutes into the drive and Steve nervously tapping on the wheel, he finally spoke up. "Y'know, we don't have to go if you don't want to."

"No, I want to. Unless you don't then we definitely don't have to and we can just tell them I'm sick and do it another time."

"They want to do it tonight because they're leaving again Sunday."

"Then we'll do it tonight and it'll be fine." He reached down to shift gears and she caught his hand before he could bring it back to the wheel. She pressed a kiss to the back of it and mumbled, "We'll be ok, I'll be right there and if it goes terrible, well then they're leaving Sunday anyway so it doesn't really matter."

"Are you sure?"

"I am if you are. I just need to change first."

"Why? You look good."

"Thank you. But, I look good for a graduation party, not for meeting my boyfriend's parents for the first 'official' time at one of the nicest restaurants for like a five town radius."

"You've met them before, it's not like it's the first time you're meeting them," but he still took the turn leading to her house rather than the restaurant, which didn't go unnoticed by her.

"Well that was only for like five seconds and your dad basically called me a slut, and made you cry, which I didn't love, at all. On your birthday no less. So here's their chance to make up for it."

"If it's their turn to make up for it, why are you so nervous?" He kept stealing glances at her rather than the road.

"Because! I don't know. They're your parents. How could I not be nervous?"

"And you're only the second girlfriend of mine they've ever met. First, like, adult one." 

"Why are you telling me this!?" She buried her face in her free hand.

"Would you rather I tell you what you could probably expect?"

"Yes, very much."

"Alright, well, my dad is easy. He's probably gonna think we're some passing fling, even though I don't think that at all," he said intensely while looking into her eyes.

"I know, watch the road," she pushed his shoulder so he'd turn his focus back.

"So he's gonna be real quiet and pretend to be uninterested, but really he's gonna care because...Image. But he can't really not like you because you work crazy hard and you're super smart. So he's probably just gonna think you're too good for me, which you are, but if they see how serious we are, he'll start asking more questions."

"Like?"

"What do you do, who's your family, what do you read, even though he's never even touched a book in his goddamn life."

"That's manageable. What about your mom."

"Hmmm, well," his voice trailed up and he scratched the back of his neck. "She's a little more difficult. See, where my dad thinks a- a fuckin' rock is too good for me, she still has some misplaced hope in me and thinks no one could ever be good enough for me. But she like, disguises it and she'll pretend to be really nice and actually care but really she just wants me to have some 'happy little family' with one of her friends' kids, and end up just like them. They fuckin' hate each other, you can see it in their faces, I don't think they've ever loved each other. And if they have it hasn't been for a long time." She reached back over and put a hand on his thigh. 

"You're not like them, though. You're so...exponentially better."

He hummed in response, "I probably freaked you out with that, huh?"

"No, I mean with your mom trying to secretly sabotage us or whatever before we've had a real conversation, yeah. But the rest, no."

"Not sabotage but…uh yeah kind of. And she like, always, always, finds a way to make something about herself. I'm not really sure when it started, and it could have just always been there, but I first noticed it 'round the same time I noticed my dad never paying attention to her." He finally looked up from their interlaced fingers and at the small clock. "Oh shit, we should hurry. Reservation's at 8."

They rushed into the house and she pulled out three options from her closet. "Which one says 'I'm very serious about dating your son, please don't be mean to me?'"

"I think the blue one," he sat on the edge of her bed while she let him pick an outfit and carefully retouched her eyeliner and mascara.

"You sure?" she said around her lip liner.

"Should I not be?" He asked, worried he picked the wrong one.

"No, not at all. I just want to be sure you really like this one." She held it up against herself.

"Yeah, I like this one."

"Ok, I'll be right back." She'd already shed her shirt before she got to the bathroom.

***

Steve got the door for her and held her purse while she got their jackets, a chill still nipping through the mid May night. He took her hand as they made their way across the parking lot. He held the door open and she stepped inside, taking her purse as she did. Steve flashed his usual friendly smile at the hostess who returned one in kind. The Harringtons were regulars and she always dreaded when they brought Steve because he always looked so...defeated by the end. She was happy he finally walked in with a real smile and a real date.

"Uh, we have reservations I think, Harrington? They might already be here."

"Mhm, you're a few minutes early but right this way, please." She nodded at the clipboard on the stand and led them to their table. Steve stepped aside to give y/n the corner seat and he took the one next to her.

"They're not gonna be mad I took the good seat?" she looked up at him with wide eyes while he put his jacket on the back of his chair.

"They won't get mad at you. You've gotta relax, babe. Worst case, they don't like you, which probably won't happen, but even if it does it doesn't matter 'cause I love you." He pressed a kiss to her temple before straightening out and laying his napkin over one thigh. Then, he set a hand on her leg that wouldn't stop bouncing. 

"Oh, Steve, hello." His mom cooed and they both stood up to greet them. Steve kissed his mom's cheek and shook his dad's hand.

"Hi, dad."

"Steve, care to introduce us to your guest."

"Uh yeah, uh mom, dad, this is my girlfriend y/n."

"Hi, lovely to meet you, for real this time, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington."

"Oh don't worry yourself with that sweetie, Sharon and John is fine."

"Ok, Sharon, John." She shook both of their hands and Mr. Harrington held on to hers.

"I'd um, like to apologize…for my behavior when we last met. I'd just gotten some terrible news that tripled the work I had to do, I hope you can understand."

"Completely." She smiled as best she could even though she was seething inside. How can he blame his own actions like that on a ‘hard day's work?’ He squeezed her hand before they all sat down. Y/n tried to hide wiping her hand on her napkin, it wasn't out of spite or disgust, just sensory issues. And maybe a little spite. Just a little.

A tall, skinny waitress with her hair in a messy bun she'd probably describe as French (but really the French-est thing she's ever done is pronounce Illinois with nwa instead of noy.) She had her overgrown bangs clipped back with rhinestoned barrettes.

Y/n recognized her from school, one of those girls who thought they were special because they had the nicest shoes or tightest dresses at every dance. Y/n would joke that you'd think with all the money they were always bragging about, they might be able to afford a little more than a postage stamp for a dress. And now here she was, taking their orders.

"Good evening, my name is Angelina. I'll be your server tonight, would you like to start with anything to drink besides water?" She looked around the table and half her smile faltered when she looked at y/n but it snapped right back when she looked at Steve.

"I think we'll start with a bottle for the table. What's your finest red?" Mr. Harrington looked up at Angelina and noticed y/n wince out of the corner of his eye. Mrs. Harrington saw it too.

"Something wrong dear?" she asked with fake sincerity.

"Hm? Oh, no I just um I-" She started to crack under their expectant stares.

"She doesn't drink red." Steve reached back down for her hand under the table.

"Really?" Mrs. Harrington's eyes got impossibly large.

"Yeah, just never liked it," the quietest she's been all night.

"You're too young to know what you like. Your finest bordeaux, thank you."

"Anything else? In case you don't like the red?" Angelina and y/n exchanged sympathetic looks.

"Surprise me." Y/n knew she knew what she liked. Neither of their tastes having changed in the last few years.

"Alright, I'll put that right in for you." She smiled and turned but not before giving y/n a quick thumbs up.

They talked about the weather or whatever it is entitled white men want to talk to their son's girlfriend about, until Angelina returned with the wine and a French 75 for y/n.

"Thank you, you're a dream," y/n said as she took the drink from her.

Once the appetizers had been ordered, then the real fun began.

"So, y/n, tell us about your family." Mrs. Harrington asked.

"Oh, well, my mom was an artist but now she's retired and she only does it for fun, not really taking commissions anymore. Unless it's for someone really special. And my sister is getting her degree to be a doctor of Pharmacy. I don't entirely know what my brother-in-law does but he seems to like it and he still has a lot of time for my niece."

"Oh how sweet, how old is she?"

"She'll be 4 in August."

"And how old's your sister?"

Ohhh there it is, the million dollar question. Y/n took a sip a little longer than she should have before she answered. "Old enough to have a four year old, a husband and at least one degree. I forgot to keep track."

They all laughed as she dreaded the impending doom of their next question. For people who pride themselves on being "socialites" they always lack decorum around these kinds of things. Something she's often noticed at too many prep school functions.

"And how about your father?" Of course, Mr. Harrington had to ask.

"What about it?"

"You never mentioned him."

"There's no one to mention. The best way I could explain it is my mom just wanted to do it on her own so she had me and my sister, on her own."

"Hm, a driven woman."

"Mmm very." She held her wine glass for Steve to fill. She took a sip and made a slight grimace but swallowed anyway.  

"And what do you do for work?" Mrs. Harrington looked like she was trying to see into y/n's skull. Y/n looked right back with a sudden surge of confidence, finally realizing that it doesn't matter what they think Steve would still feel the same and so would she. 

"I'm a hairdresser, and whenever I'm not doing that I'm basically a nanny for my niece or ASL interpreter. I just do whatever needs doing."

"What's ASL?" of course, John doesn't know.

"American Sign Language." Both John and Sharon nodded along. "I learned because my brother-in-law's family has a history of genetic hearing loss, so there was a chance of that being passed on to my niece and also just so I could talk to them anyway."

"That's so kind of you. Isn't that so kind John?"

"Very, -" He went to say something else, definitely something rude, but Angelina popped around the corner.

"Are you all ready to order?"

"Yes, I think so," John, self-proclaimed ringleader, "I'll have the beef bourguignon," y/n had to fake choke on her drink to cover her laugh at his abysmal pronunciation and Angelina pretended there was a tickle in her throat. "Hm, and she'll be having the cock oh vine." 

"The coq au vin, excellent."

"John, I never get the coq oh vine here. I always get the soup."

"No, you always get it." Y/n saw Steve close his eyes and rub the contour of where his nose and brow bone meet while taking a long drink. She set her hand back on his thigh and brushed her thumb back and forth. 

"And for you two?"

"I'll have the filet mignon with truffle butter please, thank you." They smiled at each other as she handed back the menu.

"Veal parmesan, please. Thank you."

"Thank you." She winked at y/n with a slight nod to the other side of the room before walking away.

Y/n waited a few more minutes for a lull in conversation to excuse herself.

Angelina stood waiting for her just outside the restroom. She rolled herself off the wall and pushed the door in with her shoulder. "So, how's dinner with the Harrington's?"

"Shouldn't how much I've drunk answer that for you?"

"That bad huh?"

"They're so condescending, to me, to you, to Steve."

"If it's any consolation I think that's the happiest I've ever seen that kid at one of these dinners."

"Really?"

"Mhm, and if it's any more of a consolation I charged him way more than I should have for that god awful wine."

"It's horrible!"

"It's inedible! So many tannins. One glass and I had such a headache."

Once their laughter died down Angelina spoke up again. "I'm sorry."

"Don't- we don't have to do this right now. We don't have to do this at all." Y/n sounded like she was going to leave but when Angelina pulled out the cigarettes from her apron pocket and stood on top of the toilet in the last stall to open the window. 

"Come on, there's perfume in the cabinet," She reached up behind the window to pull out a lighter. "We do this all the time. And if we share it won't be you stealing from me because Mr. Harrington tips enough to buy one."

"One pack?"

"One cigarette. C'mon, up ya go." Y/n hung her purse on the door and Angelina held the cigarette to her lips. She pulled in a puff then blew it out and inhaled through her nose.

"You're so French for a girl from Indiana."

"I actually spent a year and a half in France."

"Really?"

"Mhm, but then after my heart got broken as well as his nose, I came back. That, and I missed my mom too much."

"Well haven't you had fun?"

"And you haven't?"

"Well I didn't go to college but I made as much as it would have cost to go off of other people's essays, then I was like well I gotta do something. So now I cut old ladies' hair and nanny my niece, really really livin' it up."

"But you got a really hot boyfriend."

"I really do, but his parents scare me a little."

"Enough to scare you away?"

"No."

"Good."

The hostess burst through the door and Angelina was about to slam down the window when she asked "Angie, help! Emergency!"

"What?" 

"Oh thank God we have to wear black." She locked the door to the other stall. 

"Either of you have...anything?"

"Aren't there any in the cabinet?"

"You know they don't do shit. Please?"

"I have a tampon?" Y/n offered with the cigarette hanging out the corner of her mouth, no longer caring if the smell got stuck to her hair or if they kept wondering where she was. She dug through her small purse to find it. "Do you need anything else?"

"I don't think so. Thank you so much. You're a literal angel. You two friends?" They all just ignored the awkward situation of talking through the bathroom door.

"In a strange sense, a little but I was trying to apologize but she wouldn't let me."

"Oh this is that girl! Hi That Girl, I'm Meg. I think I graduated a few years before you." 

"Hi, I'm y/n. Oh yes, you did! You were my buddy in first grade! And you know about all that?"

"Oh hoho, I know all about all that. Angie really did a number on you didn't she? Broke your heart, stomp on it, the cherry on top being that it was all a lie?"

"Yep, these are all things that did happen and left me with issues that persist to this day. Thank you for reminding me."

"You're very welcome."

"Please, let me apologize." Angelina took the cigarette right out from y/n's lips.

"I don't want you to. I just want to forget it."

"I think you should let her, y/n. She hasn't shut up since you walked in here."

Y/n turned back to her and gestured for her to go ahead. 

"I thought I knew what I wanted but I didn't and I should have been honest about how I felt from the beginning and I should have been a better friend and never a girlfriend. I don't want to blame it on being a dumb kid or a mistake because it wasn't, I should have known better and I did know better. I just wanted you to know that I've grown and I'm not that person anymore and I'll never be them again."

Y/n took a second to absorb her words before she huffed out a little laugh. "How long have you had that planned?"

"4 years."

"If you let me do one thing I'll forgive you."

"Whatever you want."

"Let me shotgun off you one last time." Angelina didn't even take a second to consider it before she took a long drag and stepped up to y/n and held her jaw. She blew it into her mouth and just when the last traces flew up from y/n's lips the door opened at the same time Meg stepped out with one very bloody hand raised so she wouldn't touch anything.

All three of them looked like deer in headlights at Mrs. Harrington. "I just wanted to make sure you were ok, y/n."

"Oh yes, I'm fine I was just catching up with some friends from school."

"Good to hear, the food should be out soon, let's go."

Meg and Angelina tried not to laugh, knowing that she very well had not even gotten the order back to the kitchen. "Oh y/n wait! You still like it medium?"

"Medium, medium rare. And could I get another 75 please? Thank you."

She followed Sharon back to their table like a scolded toddler with really good acting chops at pretending to feel bad. She ran back to get her purse but Meg was already holding it out for her on one finger of her no longer bloody hand. 

"Sorry, I was talking with some friends from high school, we got distracted." She hung her purse back over her chair and fixed her hair. Steve reached over and fixed her necklace since the clasp moved down to the ruby. He left his hand at the back of her neck and played with her hair.

"We were worried for you. You could have been sick."

"Nope, just distracted." Steve made a small motion alluding to smoking to which she nodded subtly. Sharon hummed, probably in disapproval. "We got carried away in conversation is all."

"Well, good thing you're back now and you missed that man's horrid order. Anything over medium is a travesty to steak."

"I know!" In her head y/n added 'finally, something we agree on,' "Every time I hear someone order that a part of me wants to go into the kitchen and ask the chef just to not make it."

"Exactly, if you can't understand that it cooks out all the flavor, you don't deserve a good steak."

"They just don't get it."

***

"Thank you for dinner, I had an amazing time."

"Oh of course dear, we'll have to do it again some time." Mrs. Harrington and both of them gave the same look to their man over the other's shoulder.

Y/n waved to Meg on the way out and raised a 'wait a minute' finger at Angelina.

Once Steve turned the car on to get the heat going she told him to wait. "Why?"

"Did you see how much he tipped?! That was hardly 15 percent of the wine alone. And yeah, I'm a little conflicted because she made my life miserable, and gave me a litany of trust issues that persist to this day, in regards to my relationships. But more about that later. Now, I've decided to forgive her, she apologized in the bathroom. Gave me a cigarette." She pulled a few bills out of her purse, "I'll be so fast." She ran full speed back into the restaurant while he watched.

"Here, I'm sorry he was rude." She quickly kissed her cheek. "I forgive you and I don't know if you remember but all my friends fuckin' ditched me so here's my number."

"Thank you." Angelina put the money and note in her apron pocket. Y/n turned around and smiled then ran just as fast back to the car.

***

Y/n was in her pajamas, uncharacteristically short shorts and a cropped tank top, when she heard a sound from her backyard. She thought it could just be an animal so she went back to stirring her tea and reading. Half a paragraph later she heard it again, closer. She got up from her couch and went into the closet to grab her sword, a gift from her grandma one year, and went to look outside. She heard another sound followed by a voice and a knock. She tensed before she opened the door and she lowered the blade. “Oh good, I thought you were a murderer,” she stepped out of the way to let Steve in.

“Why do you have a sword?! Were you gonna slice me with your sword?!”

“My grandma got it for my birthday one year and nooo I would not have sliced you because I love you too much and also because it’s blunt see,” she ran her finger up and down the side. “Meant for whacking rather than slicing, or bludgeoning actually. Aren’t you cold? Come in.” She pulled him inside by his jacket sleeve.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“No, I was drinking hot tea on my nice warm couch and not expecting any guests. Not that you’re unwelcome. Sit down, d’you want any tea?”

“Uh yeah what kind?”

“I have a lot, come look.” He stood right behind her and looked at everything from over her shoulder.

"Is the chamomile good?"

"Mhm, you want that one?"

"Sure." She reached way up to get it but he put a hand on her waist and reached over her head to get it. Her breath caught in her chest when he handed it to her.

"Thank you," She quickly turned away to the electric kettle, embarrassed at how weak her voice came out and trying to hide the heat rising to her cheeks.

He leaned his hip against the counter with his arms crossed, watching how she focused on filling the water and measuring the perfect amount of loose tea. "You haven't asked why I'm here."

"I wasn't sure if you wanted me to."

"Do you want to?"

"I don't know, but you can stay as long as you want. There's some clothes of yours in my room."

She kept looking at the kettle, waiting for the switch to flick back up. He wrapped an arm around her waist and turned her into himself. "D'you wanna stay?" she asked into his neck, running her hands up and down his back. 

He only nodded in response, "I'm so tired but I missed you."

"I missed you too. But usually you can make it through a whole night."

"I know, but I felt bad about dinner."

"It went better than I thought it was going to."

"Yeah, I guess. But you weren't there when they started comin at me." She pulled back but kept her hands on his waist.

"What'd they say?"

"My dad was saying I need to 'look at my life' and the people I spend my time with. So we were five seconds from 'You could have come to work for me, but you couldn't even get into tech.' Before my mom was like 'I'm gonna go find y/n.' As if she wasn't just like 'I think maybe you're rushing into things Steve.'" They both ignored the kettle and kept holding each other.

"Ok, well ignoring your freakishly good impression of your parents. You know they're wrong, right?"

"I know, but at the same time I think they could be right. Not my mom though! She's definitely wrong about you."

"Oh, good. But still, I understand. It's hard to ignore what you've been told for so long." He nodded and neither of them said anything else about it for the night.

They had their tea and watched a rerun and a half of Cheers before Steve fell half asleep and all onto y/n.

"Steve?"

"Hm."

"You gotta get up. You're gonna fuck up your back if you sleep like this." He sat back up and when she stood to put the mugs in the sink he made grabby hands at her.

"So tired."

"I know, come on." She held out a hand for him to grab and turned around so his arms were over her shoulders and she led him to bed.

"Good night, I love you." She traced a finger down his nose and he scrunched up his face.

"I love you."

<;3:@avipoof @haydipoof @loving-and-dreaming @beezywriting @on-my-contrarian-sh1t @stevesza @niallsvirgosun @idmarryuharry28 @my-little-secret-diaries @inkluvs @babyrunsforfanfic @mrssharrington @calhtlland @mikki96 @throughtfulhumanoidtreepurse

Thank you so much for reading and your continued support, this is my favorite thing i've ever written and i love it so much so it makes me so happy to see you all enjoy it <3<3<3

[lostusagis]

When Kamui came over to her apartment, this really wasn't what he was expecting to happen. Yet, here they were having another heart to heart. Mixed feelings welled up within his chest, but her voice was enough to make him feel a bit at ease. Especially with how she hugged him closer.

Only with Namida, did he felt that temporary 'Everything might be okay' feeling. Which was why he was so obsessed with moments he shared with her like this.

"You don't have to apologize.... it's something we'll both eventually be able to stop doing, at least around each other. I only want to be that honest with you..." She just meant that much to him, plus Namida truly felt like a safe space. Comfort. Relaxation. Security.

He was the strong one physically, yet felt safe with her.

However, those words of hers:

"You're just Kamui to me, my precious Kamui."

It replayed in his head like a broken record, making his heartbeat really fast. Breath being let out shakily, since it took him by surprise. Only her words could have such an effect on him.

Hers. Her precious Kamui.

Hers. Hers. Hers. Hers.

Clearly, his mind got a bit distracted because of those words, they were best friends yet so many overwhelming feelings came over him from hearing that.

"Y...Yeah..." His response came out nervously unintentionally, "You're... the only one... I feel comfortable being this way around. So you're the only person I think of whenever I'm upset and need a distraction." Although, now that he thought about it....

Maybe that was burdening. Forcing her to deal with his problems when she likely had her own things to deal with. It was really selfish, but he couldn't help it. Kamui constantly became greedy and selfish when it came to her. He wanted her affection and comfort. He needed it.

It was the only thing that might make him feel better.

When she kissed the top of his head, warmth consumed him. It reminded him when she did that constantly all over his face when he broke down in her office. An embarrassing memory, though also heartwarming one he'd never forget. So many things could have went wrong that day, but Namida sat there and comforted him.

A lot like now.

Kamui would then nuzzle into her now, loving the warmth of her body, the closeness, everything. Her words were so uplifting. He'd usually mock such kind, optimistic words but from her it was everything to him.

"Namida..... I...." He wanted to say something, but struggled to get it out feeling it may have been stupid to say out loud. Kamui would just sigh softly before deciding to keep it to himself.

After he had asked if she hated him though, Kamui had been taken back by her response. He was surprised she never hated him back when they were on bad terms but....

Honestly, she was always full of surprises. "Does it really look that way? That I'm putting in that much effort?" He'd question, although her words were true. He absolutely did want to try being as honest and open as possible with her. Which is a rarity for a person who went through his life constantly lying and hiding everything about himself.

"The reason I asked that question is.... a bit stupid..." He'd laugh awkwardly though figured maybe he should just say it. Kamui trusted wouldn't make fun of him, but he probably deserved that.

"I had a nightmare.... you were mad at me for a lot of things I did. Then reminded me of that night I lost control too...."

Even if it was a stupid dream, he felt himself getting emotional over it. "I do remember after that, I kept wondering if you were scared of me. But after awhile I was convinced everything was fine. At least until I had that dream a few days ago."

He'd swallow thickly, though the emotion showed in his voice. "I don't think I can handle you ever hating me. You're so special to me, which is why I do my best to make you happy." Kamui was unable to hold back a sniffle.

"Making you the happiest girl in the world is the only thing I strive to do. Seeing you smile and laugh, that's all I want. Nothing else. So I just hope.... you hating me never happens. Or I just... I couldn't... I couldn't take it. I don't know what I'd do."

Namida made him feel so many things, and he felt so overwhelmed, it was too much to handle. He didn't want to lose anything he had with her.

Ever.

Going from thinking she was annoying, to now often paying her a visit at her apartment. It was really crazy how much their relationship changed since meeting. Kamui wasn't complaining though, she was one of the few people he felt really comfortable around. Seeing those cheerful features when she opened the door was everything to him. He felt his heart skip a beat even, he felt so weird around her but in a good way.

What meant a lot to him was the fact that Namida kept and preserved the flower he had gave her at the festival. Oh yeah... his mother's favorite flower. Kamui remembered it looking really pretty on Namida, a scene he'd never forget. He was really happy she liked the flower too. Maybe he'd get her more if she wanted. . . .

Kamui had nearly forgot what he wanted to ask her, but thankfully remembered. It was only after the fact that he felt extremely embarrassed and REALLY pathetic. After having heard how desperate he sounded. Given his obsession with being strong, he'd always hate sounding like that.

He hated it so much.

Maybe Namida secretly though he was pathetic too, especially right now.

Although, that thought was pushed to the back of his mind after hearing what she said. He'd let out a shaky breath after.

Kamui never forgot anything she said that day. But.... he thought maybe eventually she'd get sick of him and take all of that back. Maybe it was that dream he had about her, blinding him to what was common sense when it came to how Namida felt about him. He had the dream a few days ago, but it never left his mind. Kamui had wished it was one of those dreams people usually immediately forgot, but his brain refused to give him that relief apparently.

''Well... I mean... it's still a job you use to get by so I wouldn't want to interfere regardless of how much you're paid....'' He swallows thickly after saying that. It didn't matter how much she got paid, he felt bad for being selfish and making her take a day off just because he was depressed.

Namida always helped him forget about everything. Right now, she was trying to comfort him with her touch, and honestly....

Kamui doesn't think he'd be able to be this relaxed with anyone else.

Although, she DID make him antsy when pointing out how his smile was fake and he was masking his actual moments. Kamui shouldn't be surprised she'd know by now, hell... they've been friends for some time already.... Plus, neither of them liked showing what was beneath the surface.

She'd know fake better than anyone right? But still....

''You're my best friend... yeaah... but...'' He struggled to form words for a bit, feeling so many different things at once.

''I'm really used to just pretending everything is okay, it's just a habit now. I don't.... mean to hide my emotions from you... but....'' His hands tightly clenched onto the fabric covering her back.

''I'm so used to it, because I hate people seeing anything but what I usually let them see. That cheerful, carefree guy who doesn't care about anything.''

When she wanted to change how they were positioned he didn't mind, and just went along with it. Although, after the fact he laid against her chest surprised for a second. It was comforting, he just.... wasn't expecting her to move him so he can lay against her like this.

The way her hand brushed his hair was the cherry on top. He really loved this.

''Oh yeah... I guess I do visit so often it may as well be my home. You're right. I'll try to work on not wearing a mask when I'm around you at least.'' He'd say with a small laugh, though the cheerfulness steadily died down after.

''I'm sorry, for making you miss work just because I'm a little depressed.'' A little was an understatement though. Kamui sighs out wearily. A dream of all things upset him, this was something a little kid would be upset over. Kamui wondered if he should be honest and mention it.

Would she laugh at him for it? Maybe he could just ask what he really wanted to right now instead then.

''Hey Namida, did... I ever do anything that made you really hate me?''

[mono-dot-jpeg]

unexpected nostalgia - k. kazhua, k. ayato & k. ayaka

summary; you hated this but it seemed like your sibling was having the time of their lives as they get to relive having you as their baby sibling.

genre; scenarios, fluff, familial relationship, ooc kazuha and kamisatos???, angst at kazuha's part (if you squint?)

[platonic] [gender never mentioned]

a/n; i dont have much to say but before i posted my recent fic, it took me a while to get back into writing skjdksdjj i hope this is good and that you enjoy despite how long it took for me to write this also kazuha came home a while ago but it was days before the yoimiya banner leak so im a little bummed bc i want her <;/3

kaedehara kazuha

you really wonder how this happened, one minute you were exploring past the gates of liyue and now you're back to being a baby. it was a sudden event for the both of you, of course it would be sudden, you turned into a baby! kazuha was more than well versed in taking care of you, often having to do so when you were both younger.

"what a turn of event, hm?" he was still calm as ever. you can only whine at how calm he was. how dare he be so calm about this?! "don't cry dear, we'll figure something out. though it is nostalgic to have you like this." he has a fond smlie on his face as he holds you.

"dad used to help me hold you right when you were first born. we were really inseparable, and we still are." you want to be a little frustrated that your older brother was so casual about this but the way he talked so fondly about such memories you didn't remember, you want to let him have this for a little longer. "time really passed too quickly."

you could only respond with a tiny huff, making him smile. "i think for now we should find baizhu... he might help." he chuckled as he swaddles you in his haori to keep you warm on the way.

his heart feels lighter knowing that you will always be by his side and he will be by yours, nothing separating you both after everything.

kamisato ayaka & kamisato ayato

ayato laughed at you. he was so shocked that he laughed. it was almost unbelievable if it weren't for the fact it happened in front of the elder siblings. ayaka, being the dear sister she was, immediately checked for any injury.

"are you okay?!" she pressed her hands on your cheeks as she examined your face and then checked your body. unfortunately, as a baby, you were very ticklish. you start bursting out giggles as her hands ran across your tiny body. she sighed in relief upon hearing your laugh, "well, at least you're in good shape aside from turning into a baby." ayato had kept quiet when ayaka started to worry, soon smiling fondly as he heard your giggles.

"we better head back and find out how long this may last." he suggested. taking it upon himself to hold you.

"right. everyone back at the estate might worry about how we got a child though... do you think thoma can help us?"

"i'm sure we'll be fine." he hummed. and as expected, gossip runs fast in the estate, and thoma is quick to assign the two kamisatos in the weird misadventure.

"i'm sure she'll be okay. perhaps kokomi may help?"

"though it is cute to see our little kamisato sibling be a baby again." ayato's fingers rub at your chubby cheek before pinching it lightly, making you attempt to smack his hand away. "it's much more different now though, i feel like a parent." he chuckled. it wasn't far off how he really felt most of the time despite spending a lot of time to work and learn to uphold the clan.

"baby y/n is just too cute to resist!" ayaka giggled, joining the eldest brother in coddling you. going to find how long this lasts can wait, your siblings are too busy spoiling you now that they're old enough to do it.

[minyoongees]

FANTASY || JHS

✧ pairing: boyfriend!hoseok x reader

✧ genre: crack, smut 

✧ word count: 1.4k

✧ summary: When Hoseok hears the shower running, he can’t help but let his fantasies run wild.

✧ snip: “Who is the intruder in the bathroom he just had potential sex with

✧ warnings: mentions of oc’s body parts in sexual ways, mention of hobi’s body parts in sexual ways, doggy style, begging, hair pulling, mild edging, mentions of an intruder, oc being waaayyy too close to her sister (yes this counts as a warning, y’all single child won’t get it), embarrassing situations

I’d be glad to know what you think of this! 

The sound of keys jiggling fills up the empty hallways, practiced hands opening the lock within seconds. It opens with a creak and he cringes. For any sound from him could alert you of his presence and it could shatter his plans of scaring you.

He tip toes inside, softly sliding the keys into his dress pants' pocket. He strides forward slowly to your room, hoping to find you sitting on the vanity so he can scare you enough for you to mess up your eyeliner (he's pure evil and he knows that).

But an empty room and the sound of the shower running bums him out.

“Y/n baby we're gonna be late this way!” He calls out in the general direction of the shower door.

He lifts his arm to look at the watch on his wrist, “It's 7 already! We'll miss our reservation, just try to be quick yeah? I'm waiting outside in your room.”

So much for scaring you, he's got the scare now. They'd cancel the reservation he worked so hard on to book. It's not really a special day, but it really is. It's the same day 2 years ago you and him had sex for the first time after 3 months of dating. Now it wouldn't be something that special, you see (at least not special enough to work a month overtime to afford that expensive restaurant). But you had such explosive sex that day, you couldn't let this opportunity go now.

That day he made you cum 4 times, discovered your love for his tongue and discovered how you it makes you go dizzy when he chokes you a little. He loves to see your ass jiggle when he hits it from behind,

“Hobi, please-”

“What is it baby, what do you want”

You didn't even know what you were begging for, your head was empty except for Hoseok's dick and the way he was making you feel.

“What do you want?” he growled again with a particular sharp thrust of his hips and even any slight thought you might have had, flew out the window. The pleasure made your muscles relax to the point it was hard to speak. So he took the hint for himself.

He grabbed your hair, pulled your back to his chest and began grinding in you. The sudden change in positions had his dick grazing your insides from an angle that gave you the leverage to come back to reality. You moaned and whined so loud at the sensation. The knot in your stomach was loosening up, you were losing your orgasm but you were still so on the edge of it. You whined again, tryna back up into him and he, just chuckled. He chuckled. At your misery. That's right.

But before you could do something about it, Hoseok started thrusting again at a fast set pace.

“Good girls don't whine y/n and you know it, they take what's given to them” He growled.

He snakes his arm around your waist, fingers to your clit and other hand lingering on your neck. He bends you forward and hits right at the spot which makes you go limp in his arms. Any smart reply on your tongue is swallowed back down. Your orgasm creeping back up on you, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“This is hands down the best sex I've had”

That's what you said to him in the heat of the moment and he hasn't forgotten it ever since. Even in the later hours it kept him wondering what exactly was it that he did to make you feel this way. Though he couldn't pin it exactly, but whatever was it he did, it only got better. Maybe it was the day you got to know one another' s body more, or got more comfortable with each other, but it really did change the way you look at each other now.

He can still hear the shower running. But he's got something else on his mind now.

He lifts himself off your bed and walks to your bathroom door and leans on one shoulder there.

“Hey sweetie!” He calls out, and waits for you to answer.

The shower stops running and he's met with complete silence. He knows you're listening.

“Remember the time you said I was the best sex you've ever had?” Yes, he knows he's twisting your words around, but he cannot bring himself to care enough.

“That was when I tried chocking you for the first time, you were so submissive for me, eyes all droopy. You couldn't even talk all your smart comebacks died down in your throat. Oh I remember the way your ass jiggled and the way you moaned so much, like, it's the most motherfucking beautiful sound I've heard in my life,” getting father away into his memories he didn't even realize when he started to palm himself in his pants.

“Oh I can't wait to see you tonight in that red satin dress of yours. You always look like such a sin, always so submissive for me, making me feel proud that they all know who you belong to.” he violently palms himself, his own hammy fantasies taking him too far. He couldn't think straight. Not right now when all his blood from his brain had rushed to his dick.

“I can't wait to come home and taste your lips like champagne, can't wait to pepper kisses all over your chest and thighs, eat you like the three course meal you are and kiss your fingertips—”

He seemed so adamant on fucking you that the time constraint seemed nothing like a problem to him anymore. But before he could execute it-

The keys jiggle again and he hears the familiar creak of your door opening. Wait- Who else had your keys?

He runs outside the bedroom to find you setting the groceries down on the table.

If you're here then who's in the bathroom taking a shower he just had potential sex with??

Automatically, he assumes the worst when all the blood rushes back to his brain.

“Oh hey Hoseok, when did you get here?” You chime.

“y/n!”

You turn to him startled and he grips your shoulders tight.

“y/n listen to me, now don't panic and listen,” he said, a little too exasperated for him not to be panicking himself “there is an intruder in your house and he's in the shower, I have no idea who he is but you lock the door and I'll call 911, it's okay we don't have to panic—”

“Wait what? The intruder is showering?” you question, like it's the stupidest thing ever, because it is!

“What are you talking about?” you laugh and say.

You took in his form, his formal shirt and those dress pants, silver hoops dangling from his ears, his blonde hair styled back. A small smile arose your lips at the sight of him.

“You forgot didn't you?” you take his hands off your hands and hold them in your hands, “Baby remember how I postponed our date to tomorrow 2 weeks ago because Jisoo was coming over?”

He turns his head back to look at her head peeking out of the door, hair dripping wet, tryna hold in a laugh.

You both look at each and start laughing. Hoseok drags himself to the couch, embarrassed, "Yeah yeah laugh all you want”

He hides his face in his palms and calls out "Noona you should've said something!” his voice muffled.

“Oh it was too funny to stop you, with all the ass jiggling and the three course meal” She laughs again.

“Wait, what?” You question “What happened here?”

Great that's what he needed now.

“Oh nothing sweetie, come here” he pulls you to him with your wrists,”I might've said something about how I wanted to fuck you tonight because I thought it was you in the shower.” He says in a small voice into your skin. Even saying it out loud now makes his skin crawl.

He can hear Jisoo laughing again with you as you place yourself next to him on the couch. You take his hand from between his palms and press a soft kiss on his cheek

You take the moment to put your lips next to his ear and whisper,"Don't worry, it'd be better than your fantasy”

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (8/12)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Okay, so that cliffhanger, huh? I thought our mystery guests were obvious, but then again, I'm writing the story. But We'll answer all those questions here!

AO3: Beginning | Current Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

-/-

Killian’s side of the bed is cold when Emma’s alarm goes off. She expects him to still be there either sleeping or on his phone – he seems to do most of his work in the mornings when he doesn’t want to get out of bed – but he’s not there.

She hates herself a little bit for even noticing the cool feel of the sheets beneath her fingertips.

Emma groans and stretches her legs out, wondering how much time she has to go back to sleep before she absolutely has to go into work. She squints at her phone. She’s got two hours before she has to be at work. She could definitely sleep for another hour and a half and then look like shit at work. That might be nice, actually.

But then she smells something cooking downstairs, and almost on cue, her stomach growls.

Slowly, she gets out of bed, and the floor is cold against her bare feet. She should really go take a shower before she goes downstairs, and despite the good smell, she goes into the bathroom and quickly showers, leaving her hair dry. It’s curly and a bit frizzy from leaving it wet after her shower at the Nolans’ last night, but that’s a problem for another time…tomorrow. She’ll make it look better tomorrow. Emma grabs a pair of shorts and a button-down, putting them both on, and she pulls out a pair of sandals from her closet for later. She’s not as presentable as she should be, but maybe she can stay in her office and away from customers.

Besides, this is better than what it could have been had she not at least rinsed off the remaining sunscreen and sweat from her skin.

Emma smooths down her shirt and fluffs her hair. There’s the slightest bit of red on her chest from Killian’s beard, so she buttons up one more button before heading downstairs. From the smell of it, Killian is either cooking pancakes or waffles, and she’ll take either.

As far as her seasonal friends with benefits go, Killian is definitely the winner.

For the breakfast, the sex, and maybe the conversation. She thought about that for too long yesterday, and it’s too damn early for her to be thinking about any of this today. All she wants is food and coffee, so that’s all she’s thinking about. It’s all she can.

“Damn, Jones,” Emma shouts from the top of the stairs, “something smells delicious.”

She’s at the bottom of the stairs when she hears other voices. For one brief second, she thinks Killian is on the phone, but she’d know those voices anywhere. One haunts her nightmares, the other is the voice of her dreams, and neither was supposed to be here for three weeks.

Three fucking weeks.

Shit.

Holy shit.

What the hell has Neal done that he has to show up like this without even giving her any kind of heads up?

And how does she fix this? Killian was never supposed to know about Henry. He was the one question she’d never answer. He would have been her veto had it ever come up. When he got home from spending the summer with his dad in New York City, Emma was going to start phasing Killian out. They’d only ever spend time at his place, she’d never spend the night unless Henry was sleeping over at his friends. Usually, she doesn’t have this problem because the guy leaves way before this. He doesn’t have the chance to ever know about Henry, and Emma likes it that way.

The last guy that met Henry was Walsh, and that was only on accident. Or at least that’s what Walsh said, but Emma’s always thought Walsh showed up at the Blue Dog at that time on purpose because he knew Henry would be there with Emma. The guy never understood why Emma didn’t let him meet her son, but when you’ve never been able to trust a man besides David and possibly Graham with him, you have reservations.

His dad’s a full-blown asshole who has upended her life more than once, and she’s already so done with whatever bullshit excuse he’s got for bringing Henry home early.

Emma jumps in place, trying to breathe without really inhaling, and then she turns the corner into the kitchen.

The sight is as bad as she expected. The first person she sees is Killian, and if it were any other morning, this would be a good view to wake up to. His joggers hang low on his hips, he’s standing by the stove shirtless, and his hair is sticking in several directions from where her hands tugged on it last night. Then she sees Neal, who is standing in the corner with his arms crossed, frown on his face. He looks older since she saw him at the beginning of June. His beard is filled with more gray, his hair unruly in a purposeful way. He looks pissed, and Emma already knows this is about to be hell.

And then she sees Henry, and the tenseness fades from her shoulders when she sees his smile and the giant backpack he’s wearing. He’s got to empty that damn thing out.

God, she’s missed him so much.

“Mom!” he squeals, running toward her.

Emma opens her arms and embraces him, holding onto the back of his head and breathing him in. As much as Emma sometimes likes the freedom her summer affords her, she does miss her son. A lot. Him being gone is the entire reason she picks up shifts at The Oaks. She needs the distraction, not so much the money, until the summer is over and Henry comes back home for school.

“Hey, kid,” Emma laughs as she keeps hugging him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. Can I have the waffles?”

“What?”

He pulls back and grins. “The waffles Killian made. Can I have them?”

“Killian,” Emma slowly repeats. She looks over Henry’s head toward Killian who is furiously scratching behind his ear, and she realizes just how much he has a deer in the headlights look going on. As confused as she is right now, she knows he’s just had a few bombs dropped on him. “Uh, yeah, why don’t you and my friend Killian eat. I’m going to talk to your dad in the backyard for a minute. Neal.”

“What? I don’t get a hi?” Neal asks.

“Backyard. Now.”

He smiles, and once upon a time, she would have found that charming. Right now, she wants to slap it right off his face. Whatever he has to say, she knows it won’t be good. Emma closes the back door behind them and moves far enough across the deck to keep Henry from hearing.

“What the hell, Neal?”

The smile falls, and Emma crosses her arms over her chest. She has to put up a barrier with him. “Why are you so angry? Are you not excited to see Henry? He has been gone all summer, you know.”

“Of course I’m excited to see my kid. But I wasn’t supposed to see him three weeks from now. And with a head’s up. We have a schedule, Neal. Like, a court-mandated schedule that you made us get, and you’re not sticking to it.”

“That I made us get?” he scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean? If I recall, you’re the one who kept my son from me for seven years and then didn’t want to give me custody.”

How is he such an ass? Seriously. How does he still not get it?

Emma steps closer and straightens her back. She doesn’t need to make herself taller, not for him, but she does anyway. “I got pregnant with Henry when I was sixteen. You were twenty-four. Do the math on how that’s wrong in about eighty-two different ways. And if I recall, and trust me I have a pretty good memory of this day, when I told you I had something important to tell you, you disappeared off the face of the planet. That doesn’t really seem like a guy who deserves to know about his kid.”

“Oh, come on, Ems. You can’t still be mad about that, can you?”

Is it still considered assault if Emma punches someone who deserves to be punched? There must be a law making that okay.

“Why are you here early, Neal?”

She doesn’t want to get into this with him. He’s never going to understand how much he fucked up Emma’s life. There’s no need for her to try to get him to understand now when all she wants is to know why he just showed up early.

“Who’s that guy in there?” he asks, evading her question.

“A friend.”

His mouth crinkles when he laughs, and she hates it. “A shirtless friend who fixes you breakfast? I hope you don’t make a habit of this when Henry’s home.”

“You don’t get a say on my dating life. Or my parenting skills. Now answer my question.”

He blows out air, and rolls his eyes, like she’s the one inconveniencing him. “Look, Tamara wants to go on vacation before summer ends, and she didn’t want to bring Henry with us. So I thought I’d bring him back to you and it wouldn’t be an issue. I’m sure you can keep him entertained until he goes back to school.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God, Neal, are you serious? You are breaking the rules of our custody agreement because you want to go on vacation with your girlfriend? How is it possible that you’re so selfish? I mean, God, seriously.”

Emma groans and buries her face in her hands before screaming. Or at least screaming as loud as she can without Henry knowing.

“Henry is a good fucking kid,” Emma continues, slowly breathing to calm herself down, “and he loves you. He doesn’t see all the shit I do because I’ve hidden that from him, but you can’t just do this, Neal. You can’t decide you’re done playing dad and give him back to me when you nearly made me go broke fighting to keep custody of the kid I’d raised since he was born. That’s not how being a parent works.”

“That’s rich coming from the woman who has used her time away from her kid to fuck British tourists and is upset her kid is back early because her vacation has to end.”

Emma looks up into the eyes of the man she once loved, the man who gave her son his eyes, and she says, “Go say goodbye to Henry and get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you next June, if you still decide to show up then.”

It’s a dismissal, and Neal never takes those. Not sitting down at least. She’s sure there will be arguments and petty jabs for the next few months. He’ll make her life hell while playing as the good guy. He has this act where he says things like “he’s a good person now, can’t she just move on from the past?”

There’s a difference between forgiveness and moving on that not a lot of people get. They say you have to forgive to move on, but that’s not true. You can move on without forgiveness because some people don’t deserve it. At all. Sometimes all you can do is stop letting them live in your head rent free, and you have to forgive yourself for ever falling for the lies.

Emma’s chosen that route. She’s forgiven herself, has moved on with her life even with Neal constantly trying to pull her back down, and she’s not about to stand here and let him criticize her personal life when he has no business in it.

Through the window, Emma watches Neal hug Henry goodbye. It takes less than a minute before he’s gone and Henry is back to eating his breakfast. Emma would laugh, she wants to at how ridiculous this all is, but she’s not finding anything about today funny. Because while Neal will go back to New York and will be happy, she’s stuck here cleaning up the mess he just made because she has to do everything in her power to make sure her kid never knows the version of his dad she knows.

A phone call would have been nice. At least then she could have gotten Killian out of the house. She still would have been pissed, but at the very least, she would have been able to make things a little better than they are now.

“Shit,” Emma breathes out, looking toward the sky. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Emma inhales and exhales several times before forcing a smile and walking inside where Henry is eating the breakfast that was meant for her and talking to Killian about soccer of all things.

Well, not of all things. Most of the time, Emma forgets that Killian plays professionally. Hell, they talked about it yesterday, and it still isn’t at the forefront of her mind. That part of his life has nothing to do with hers…except for right now when Killian is talking to her son about it.

He still doesn’t have on a damn shirt.

“Mom, did you know Killian used to play soccer? Like, as a job. That’s so cool! Do you think he could coach my team?”

“I did know that, kid.” Emma kisses his forehead, and he squirms away. It’ll take him a week or two to get used to her kind of affection versus Neal’s, so she’s not too offended. “How do you know that?”

“I recognize him.”

“Since when do you watch a lot of British soccer? Or football as Killian calls it.” She mimics Killian’s accent, but she also knows she did a terrible job with it.

Henry shrugs and stuffs a large bite of waffle in his mouth. “Dad doesn’t have anything to watch on TV but sports channels. All I did during the day was watch old soccer matches.”

“Wait. Where was your dad?”

Henry shrugs again. “I don’t know. At work I guess.”

Neal works from home most days of the week. What an ass. Emma bets he didn’t even get someone to watch Henry. He just used old sports reruns to keep him entertained.

“Hey, kid,” Emma says, finally looking to Killian, “can you stay in here and eat breakfast while I talk to Killian in the other room?”

“Sure.”

Emma flashes a tight smile and then nods her head toward the stairs. Killian gets the message and walks upstairs without being asked, immediately heading toward the bedroom. He stands by the window, arms crossed over his chest, and Emma watches his jaw tick, the smile he had on for Henry a moment ago, gone.

Softly, Emma closes the door behind her.

“I have my personal question of the day, Swan. You have a son?”

Okay, great, so this is how it’s going to be. Emma opens her dresser drawer and pulls out a shirt for Killian. He catches it after she tosses it and tugs it on. It doesn’t help as much as she’d like it to.

“Okay, look,” Emma begins, “you were never supposed to meet Henry. He wasn’t…his dad was supposed to have him for three more weeks.”

“The contract on my rental house has more time on it than that.”

Emma runs her hands through her hair and sighs. “I don’t know. I would have figured it out. Only go to your place, spend less time together. I mean, it’s only natural, right? Because you’re going to leave, and it would make sense for things to die down between us.”

Killian laughs, but Emma gets the sense he doesn’t find any of this funny. “Yeah, it makes perfect sense. This was only about sex, right?”

“Killian.”

“No, no.” He holds his hand up. “It’s fine, Swan. I get it. It’s my fault for thinking we might be mates on top of that.”

“I mean, we are – kind of, maybe. I don’t know.” Emma sighs and sits on the end of her bed. She doesn’t know what to do. Even more, she doesn’t know what to say. She definitely doesn’t know how to feel. “It was never supposed to be like this. I’m usually better at not blurring the lines. I don’t know what happened with us that made me drop my guard.”

“I knew you found me charming.”

Emma laughs and falls back on the mattress. “I have a kid, Killian, and he’s back. I can’t be like I was. We can’t just fuck whenever we want or stay out late or eat pizza at three in the morning. I’ve got to make sure Henry has a place to stay and Mary Margaret is across the country visiting her parents so that’s out for awhile. And I’m still working two jobs because I thought I had time to do that. I don’t, God, I don’t know what to do about anything in my life. Plus, you know, I want to spend time with Henry, and I don’t have a lot of free time.”

“I could watch him, love. He’s a bit older than what I’m used to with my nieces, but I’m sure I can find ways to entertain him.”

Emma sits up. Her heart is beating way too fast, and suddenly, the true reality of this situation hits her.

The man she’s been sleeping with has met her son.

And he’s offering to babysit.

What the actual hell?

She needs time to think. And scream. She definitely has to scream into her pillow for at least an hour because she literally cannot think of another thing to do. This is all too much, and she needs Killian to leave. He makes this all too complicated. She needs to go downstairs and eat breakfast with Henry. That she can do. That’s not complicated. That’s something she’s done every day for ten years, even if it’s usually Pop Tarts or a bowl of cereal, not homemade waffles and eggs.

“Can you, uh,” Emma starts, biting her lip, “can you go home? I need to spend time with Henry. He won’t show it, but I know he knows why his dad brought him home early. I’ve got some crap to deal with, but I’ll text you later.”

His eyes narrow, and Emma knows that look by now. He knows she’s lying, but she doesn’t expect him to call her out on her lie.

And he doesn’t because as quickly as his eyes narrow, they widen and a slight smile creeps onto his lips. “I’ll see you later, Swan. I’ll get my clothes out of the machine downstairs and go.”

“Thanks.”

Killian doesn’t move, and Emma has a hard time looking at him until she does. His eyes are so damn blue. It’s ridiculous.

But then he moves. Leaves, actually, just like she asked him to, and she hears every single step as he leaves the house and gets into his car. Emma breathes out a sigh of relief, maybe a little confusion, and then she grabs her phone of her bedside table.

Not a single warning text or call from Neal, just like she thought. Ass.

ES: SOS. My house. 10 minutes.

RL: Are you dead?

ES: Yes, I’m texting you from beyond.

RL: I am hungover. Give me 30.

Emma tosses her phone on her bed and heads downstairs. The life she was living is over. Henry’s home, and she is his mom. That’s what she has to do, and right now, that means putting her anger at Neal and confusion with Killian behind her to go eat breakfast with her kid.

She can only partially ignore that Killian was making this breakfast for her.

For them.

-/-

“King Harold,” Ruby says when she walks through the door in her pajamas and immediately sees Henry, “welcome back to your seaside palace. Come give me a hug.”

“Only if you never call me Harold again.”

“I can’t agree to that, Harold.”

Henry rolls his eyes, but he hugs Ruby anyway. “My name is Henry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ruby kisses the top of his head. “You smell like waffles.”

“Killian made waffles for breakfast.”

“Killian did?” she asks, looking over Henry’s head toward Emma. Emma shrugs and cocks her head.

“Kid, why don’t you go unpack? When you’re finished, we’ll go to the beach before I have work.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Emma hums and nods at the stairs. “I told them I’d be late today. Get your bags and go.”

Henry quickly grabs his suitcases. They’re nearly bigger than him, but he manages to drag them up the stairs. Emma waits until she hears his bedroom door close, and then she moves to the kitchen and collapses on a barstool. Ruby fixes herself a plate of leftover food and starts eating. “I have eight thousand questions.”

Without lifting her head from the counter, Emma tries to answer at least half those questions. “Killian slept over and was making breakfast when Neal and Henry walked in, so they both met him, which went over as well as you’d expect. Neal didn’t tell me he was bringing Henry back early, but apparently his girlfriend got tired of having him around and wanted to go on vacation. Neal thought ambushing me was the best way to go about the situation, and then he got pissed about me having a guy over.”

Emma peaks up to see Ruby blinking. Slowly. Did she not process anything or is she just so hungover that it’s taking her a long time to figure out what to say?

“Was Neal charming or something when you guys were together?’

Emma laughs. “I was sixteen, and he paid attention to me. He might as well have been Prince Charming.”

“He’s the worst.” Ruby scrunches up her nose. “And you’re not a Prince Charming type of girl. I get more of a rebel vibe from you.”

“Yeah, because mom and restaurant manager means rebel.”

Rub leans over and pokes Emma’s nose. “I don’t think you know how badass you are, Emma Swan. Give me a minute to get some coffee and make more food because I definitely need to dissect everything that’s going on with you. Baby daddy and new boyfriend not included.”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, right. Just sex friend because you totally invite sex friends to parties at Marg’s place. That seems normal.”

Emma narrows her eyes. “I invited you here to help with a crisis. Not create a new one.”

“I’m just saying,” Ruby sighs, “Mr. Jones is a hell of a lot better than most of the guys you shack up with. Your unfortunate sperm donor included. I’d think about that if I were you. I mean, we both know you’re about to ghost him, but at least think about it, Emma.”

Yeah, maybe she will.

-/-

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion @dramioneswan @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @gloriousfemaleworrier @spartanguard @snowbellewells

[falloutjay]

Stan x anxious/compassionate reader (kind of has a little canon divergence)

After giving up on Wendy (around Season 12), Stan and us start dating, we were always worried about him (no we weren't dating him out of pity, we were just a very anxious person). Some people find of clingy, others find us adorable but We've never left his side:

Ex: We were by his side helping with whales (Whale W)

We were the only one who didn't leave him when he got depression (You're Getting Old/Ass Burgers)

Next to Heidi, we became social pariah because we didn't want to dump Stan (this even made Wendy guilty)

But him moving, really gets to us, the coronavirus makes it worse. We get worried about him, then we start getting worried about everyone else as everything falls apart (Kyle, Kenny, Eric, Butters, Tweek, Craig, Scott, etc.) And we pass out of stress. About waking up in the hospital, we find out, everyone was worried about us. And Stan is the most worried of all, he spends the whole day with us. We tal-no vent about all the happened to the both of us. By the end of it, we agree that whatever happens we'll do it together.

Guess whos back! :D

Well, while it's not my best work, in my humble opinion, I sure hope you enjoy and like it. Again sorry for the delay! ಥ_ಥ

And if it's not that clear, because I know I can write a little cryptic, there is a time skip. You can either have all the show events happen when they are children and have the time skip between Covid and the memories or between you getting together as kids and the memories. Choose however you like! ^^

_________________________________________

Stan x anxious!compassionate!Reader

Tiny eyes watched the scene unfold.

Normally, Wendy was the one to break up with Stan, but not this time around. Stan was actually telling Wendy that he had no interest in her anymore.

“What changed Stan?” Wendy asked, obviously confused.

“I think I like someone else… I don’t know yet…”

Wendy gave him a smile.

“I wish you all the luck Stan, say if you need anything!”

“I will.” And with that, Wendy took off to be with her friends, while Stan turned a corner and told Kyle and Kenny how it went.

Cartman was there too, but he only wanted to know if she cried, because “she would deserve it.”.

You closed your locker and felt your heartbeat like crazy. Ever since you changed school a few months ago, Stan captured your little ten-year-old mind.

He was kind and showed you around when you had no idea where to go. It was a little crush you developed, and you never felt as scared and excited as now, since that Stan had broken off with Wendy.

This newfound feeling almost made you dizzy but you quickly snapped back into reality when you heard your name.

“Y/N?” Stan asked and waited patiently for his answer next to you.

“Oh, sorry, I was thinking, what did you want?”

“Would you maybe like to hang out some time?”

Stan almost got a heart attack when you suddenly squealed but was happy when you managed to get a high-pitched “YES!” out.

“Okay, what are you betting Kenny? Some Pennies or a dead rat?” Cartman almost fell from his chair laughing about his shitty joke, while Kyle and Kenny rolled their eyes.

“Don’t you think it’s weird how clingy they are?” Kyle asked his blonde friend, while they kept watching you and Stan, who were seated at a separate table at lunch.

“Honestly, I think it’s pretty cute.” Kenny said with his muffled voice.

You held his arm and hugged him from the side, while he happy kept on eating his lunch.

Eric, who had now calmed down from his laugh attack eyed the couple critically. “I’m giving them a month max.”

He said lazily and looked around. “I say longer than a year.” Kenny said, throwing a crinkled five-dollar note on the table.

“You two are horrible.” Kyle shook his head before he threw 10 dollars on the table.

“Four months.”

Kenny was a happy man after a year, because despite everyone believing you two would eventually break up, you never did.

You were always by his side, no matter what.

His desire to desperately save whales with the help of a braindead ship crew?

You were always right by his in the interviews he gave.

His horrible depression that even drove Kyle away? No chance, you stood strong and helped him through the whole thing and even help reuniting the gang.

Even during the protest against Skanthunt42, you chose to sit this one out, despite you absolutely hating that the troll photoshopped a dick into your mother’s mouth.

At least you and Heidi got close due to you guys both becoming social outcasts. When Wendy heard this, she was impressed by your dedication and felt somewhat guilty for obviously not trying as much in her former relationship.

Everyone admired your patience and endurance. No matter what obstacle came, you managed to get through it.

“You don’t need to be sad, Y/N. I won't be that far away.” Stan said, holding your hand.

“B-But it's outside of town. You need ages by bike to get there and vice versa.” You said, holding back tears.

Randy walked past you and you desperately pleaded to him.

“Please Mister Marsh, please stay in town!” Randy put the box he carried into the car, before turning to you.

“Real sorry, dear Y/N. This town is…How do I put it… Absolute shit and I really want to get away.”

He patted you on the head and went back into the house to get more boxes.

“Told you, you cant talk to him.” Stan said and shrugged.

“But it’s unfair. We won’t see each other as much anymore.” Stan pressed a kiss onto your cheek, which made you blush intensely.

“Don’t. Worry. I will make time for you.”

With that in mind, you didn’t feel as sad, when the car with the Marsh Family in it left for their new home.

“I will make time for you, my ass.” You mumbled while you sat at a bench near Starks Pond. Letting out a deep sigh, you leaned back and just enjoyed the warmth of the setting sun.

Covid was one hell of a bitch and just had to have this big impact on everyone’s life. Stan and you now saw each other less and less.

It was just a horrible feeling that tainted your heart and made you worry a lot.

Maybe he was feeling just as bad as you are, maybe even more?

Maybe he just didn’t want to tell you how he felt?

Were you maybe a bad partner? Your mind began racing and your train of thoughts became unrailed.

So many bad thoughts manifested themselves and it made you almost gasp for air.

“I need to check on him.” You mumbled getting up from the park bench.

You began walking and you kind of hoped that maybe just the walking would get your mind in check, but sadly it didn’t. Involuntarily you had to think about all the other stuff that happened during this horrible time.

The precious Broship was more fragile than ever. You had become such good friends with Kenny, Kyle and Cartman over time that it hurt you a lot too.

You also saw Covid take a toll on your other friends, like Craig and his group, who now took Cartman into their gang after the split up.

However, that came to be…

The girls were also pretty divided, so hanging out with them meant picking sides which wasn’t your thing, you kinda just want them to get along again.

Everything felt like it was falling apart. Your parents had fights ever so often, all your friends had problems and your beloved boyfriend was stuck on that stupid farm.

God how you hated that stupid farm and Randy.

When he gave you one of those plushies that looked like him, you functioned it into a voodoo doll. But sadly, it didn’t seem to affect him, no matter how many needles you rammed into it.

Your heart felt heavy, and it seemed hard to breathe, but you brushed it aside.

You had already reached the busy streets of South Park and mingled between the newly vaccinated people.

Everywhere you looked, the people seemed happy.

Everyone was happy except you and the people around you… Maybe…You were the problem?

You shook your head. No, you didn’t allow those kinds of thoughts.

You much rather think about Stan. How you miss him and how amazing your dates were.

Oh, how much effort he put into all the small things… Well… At least he did.

Now that you thought about it when was your last date?

It feels like it had been ages. It has been ages. Everything had been ages. Going out with him, hanging out with your friends, your family not fighting… How long has this been the new normal? You can’t help but wonder.

Your heart clenched again. “Stop it, stupid heart.” You mumbled under your breath.

An exhausted sigh escaped your lips when you thought about how you maybe had to walk all the way up to the farm… It would take ages, but you really craved being held by the person you adored so much.

So, you continued walking down through the street when an elder lady stopped you.

“Excuse me, but you look rather sickly, are you alright?” Confused you raised an eyebrow. Did the vaccines make them delusional?

“No, I’m fine.” You answered, somewhat snippy, even when you didn’t know why you were so agitated.

“But you look rather pale, maybe you- I am fine.” You interrupted her and continued your path.

Were all people in this shitty town stupid or- The thought could not be completed, due to you suddenly losing consciousness.

When you woke up again, you immediately recognized one of the Hells Pass Hospital rooms, once your eyes had adjusted to the bright lights. Around the bed were your parents and more importantly Stan and his mother.

“Thank God, you’re awake again!” Your mother said when she went for a hug.

Confused you asked why you were here.

“Well, seemingly you were so stressed out, that your body basically shut down.”

Somewhat shocked you looked around. Was it really a surprise to hear that? Not really, but it still felt odd knowing that it happened.

“Well, I’m glad you’re fine, Y/N.” Misses Marsh commented and smiled warmly at you. She had always liked you and you felt the same. She was always nice to you and you felt like she was the only one with a brain in the family…

Feeling a sudden sensation of warmness on your hand, your eyes darted down to it. Stan held you hand while answering something your dad had asked him.

“Well, Sharon, you wanna accompany us to get some hot chocolate for us all?”

Your mother said with an odd wink, which made you and Stan roll your eyes.

The three adults left the room chatting happily. Stan looked at you with a stern expression, which kind of surprised you.

“I swear, whenever I think I couldn’t get more worried about you, your parents call me, to tell me that you’re in the hospital.”

“Worried? About me? I should be worried about you?” You laughed to which Stan shook his head.

“Listen, everyone has been super worried about you since you seemed so down and just exhausted. Like, Kyle already called me earlier to ask if you’re awake again. I don’t know why you worry about me; I am really fine babe. Promise.”

With that said, the door opened, and your parents came back inside.

“Y/N, the doctor said they would like you to stay the night, so they can check that you’re really alright.” Your father informed you and you were immediately annoyed.

Well, you had no choice but to oblige. Your parents left after an hour, wanting to get you some clothes and other things you’d need.

Sharon also bids her goodbye and so you and Stan were left.

And just like you wished, you got to cuddle with him. He held you close, and you vented to him, how worried you were about everything and everyone, while he told you just how worried all of your friends had been since you were acting so out of character.

“Even Cartman?”

“Yup, even when he would never admit it.” Stan laughed. He held your hand tight, and his content smile never left his face.

“I think we should talk more about feelings and being worried and all that. I know I’m not all that good at it, but I don’t ever wanna have to visit you in a hospital again.” Stan said, giving your hand a squeeze.

“That sounds good. But you gotta accept, I worry a lot, because I care a lot about you, okay?” You said sternly and Stan nodded. You two looked fondly at each other and just enjoyed the time you got.

“Together forever?” You asked and he whispered “Forever.”, before he pressed a sweet kiss onto your lips.

[yn-rollcall]

Momento Bakugo x Reader: Ch. 5

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Summary: So I was always told to look on the bright side. The bright side is that I’m finally meeting the Number One and Two pro-heroes Deku and Dynamight. The downside is that I was publicly dragged out of my job for a string of robberies that I did not commit and am being detained for questioning.

Length: 1.5k

Warnings: Oral Sex, Food Kink, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Mirror Sex, Quirk Kink (My Hero Academia), Shameless Smut, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Emotional Constipation, Chocolate Syrup, Fluff, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Temperature Play, Hate Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Injury, Heavy Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Panty Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Creampie, Bondage, Body Worship, Light Dom/sub, Daddy Kink, Pegging, Public Masturbation, Office Sex, Wank and Tell, Polyamory, So like at the very very end there’s KatsukixReaderxKirishima, But it happens so last minute I don’t feel justified tagging it as one of the main relationships, Constructive Criticism Welcome

A03

Wattpad

The rest of the week passed by in a blur. After breaking the silence, Bakugo and I texted back and forth constantly. He also made a point of walking me home. We haven't called each other since a few days ago but really there's no need to. I saw him at least once a day at this point, even if it's brief. All the way up to the main event. Our date. Memories of Katsuki asking me out floated around in my head as I washed my face. It was a date right? It had to be. When I walked out of the bathroom, I saw Iris staring off into space in the living room.

She's been doing that alot lately. I've tried asking what's wrong but she'd brush me off, pretending she isn't acting weird. Apparently my concern was starting to annoy her because she started resorting to threats. Last time, she threatened to put a bunch of Dynamight merch in my room and send a picture to him if I kept asking. Not that it stopped me from showing concern. Well okay, it did stop me for like a day but I got over it. I headed to my room and got dressed in my pajamas. I considered talking to Iris again but decided to leave it alone. She'll tell me when she's ready and my head is elsewhere anyway. I haven't been on a date in years and I have to have the capacity to act normal tomorrow. I laid down and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The sun streaked through my curtains and I sat up with a yawn. I checked my phone. it was around 10:30. If I wanna put makeup on, I better get up. I rolled over and shuffled to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Iris' snores filtered through the wall, so I try to make sure I'm quiet to let her sleep. After brushing my teeth, I stared into my closet, trying to decide my outfit. I reached for a shirt just before a dull buzz came from my bed. I plucked the shirt and tossed it on my chair before checking my phone.

Sparky:

People often ask me how I manage to smuggle chocolate into movie theatres

Let's just say, I have a few Twix up my sleeve...

He sent a picture of a twix bar in his hand. I rolled my eyes, unable to contain my smile.

Y/N:

Is this your way of being excited about the movie?

Sparky:

Yes, and I know you're smiling so go ahead and send a picture.

Y/N:

And spoil the reveal?? Never. I don't think you're ready for Casual Clothes Y/N.

Sparky:

I don't think you're ready for my casual either.

Y/N:

I just hope you evolved from your church shoes era. That was sad.

Sparky:

One day, I'm gonna find your middle school pictures and we'll see who's laughing.

I sincerely hope he doesn't

Y/N:

Chill out. Aren't heroes supposed to be nice?

Sparky:

Never said I was.

I smiled and tossed the phone, making a last minute decision on my outfit. Iris woke up on my way out and quickly got dressed.

"You in a hurry?" I asked, putting on my shoes.

"Uh I'm not missing the chance to give you the pep talk of the century." She said, throwing on a wig.

"I don't need a pep talk babe, go back to sleep." I said, shooing her back inside.

"So you're not nervous about going on a date for the first time in two years with one of the top pro-heroes?" She said, her face full of doubt.

I wanted to lie but the sweat on my palms and back said otherwise. I'm gonna need a towel before I even get there. She got finished and draped her arm over my shoulder peppering pep talks in between jokes. It felt nice to have her act like her normal self and the pep talk was admittedly helping alot. Just before I crossed the platform she gave me a thumbs up.

"Text me if you need the apartment to yourself." She said, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Please stop." Carefully trying not to imagine the possibility.

"Nope." She said with a pop. "Seriously though, text me when you're coming back okay?"

"Alright, I will." I reassured her as I boarded the train.

Bakugo offered to pick me up but honestly I wasn't sure if I could handle being alone with him in a car AND a movie theatre. I got off the platform and saw Bakugo before he saw me. He wore a black hoodie with orange designs swirling over it, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, paired with dark skinny jeans. I looked down at his shoes. They're black shoes with orange trim and they look new. His ears had black studs embedded and he had a few silver rings on his fingers. It was a simple outfit but fuck it worked . Seeing him without the hero suit made him a person. An incredibly handsome person who makes me nervous. Maybe I really wasn't ready for casual Bakugo. He saw me and paused, eyes wide.

I wore an orange, off the shoulder, fuzzy sweater paired with thigh highs and a short black skirt. Given that his eyes lingered on my thighs, operation Look-At-My-Gams was a success. My stompy boots are black, worn-out and from a thrift store but he used to wear church shoes so I'll roast him if he mentions it. I wore black eyeliner with an orange stripe over it and kept the rest of the makeup subtle. Lastly, I finished it off by styling my hair so he could see my explosion earrings. I also had the Dynamight pin from my bag hanging off my purse. He recovered and gave me his signature smirk. As I walked closer he touched the earrings.

"It's getting harder for you to deny being a fan." He smirked

"Is the guy who begged me to stroke his ego really looking a gift horse in the mouth?" I replied, crossing my arms.

"Don't worry, I'm wearing fan merch too." He said.

I tilted my head, confused as to what he meant when he pulled the hoodie off. I saw a peek of his abs and the full reveal of his arms was murder on my heart rate. He wore a t-shirt with a white silhouette of a girl hovering above the ground, with cars and little white debris floating around her. Gravity girl was lined by the cracks in the pavement below the silhouette. It was kind of cool and also weird considering I'm not getting paid for merch.

"You got my merch?" I said with a slow smile.

"Yup. It's a good shirt. And Gravity Girl happens to be cool."

"She is pretty dope." I agreed with a smile.

He pulled his hoodie back on and reached for my hand. I was certain he could feel my heart beating because the second he grabbed my hand, he smirked. I laced my fingers through his, ignoring his eyes on me. I can pretend it's casual and that I've done this a million times if I don't look at him. He gave my hand a squeeze and guided me to the movie theatre. We entered the cool theatre and found our seats. I leaned towards him.

"So, big bad Bakugo likes cartoon movies eh?" I snickered.

"Big Bad Bakugo likes quality movies of any kind." He replied in a low voice.

"Quit owning your interests. I'm trying to tease you." I gave him a light shove on his arm.

"There are way more effective ways to tease me." He murmured.

"You want me so bad it's embarrassing." I joked with a shit-eating grin.

He paused for a moment. "I really fucking do." He replied in a low growl.

My breath caught in my throat.

Y/N used Deflection. It was not effective. AT ALL.

"Y'know, Chargebolt talked to me about what seeing Hitoshi in his merch did to him and I didn't get it." He murmured. "I thought he was just being Denki but seeing you in my colors . Knowing your damn outfit was with me in mind..."

I looked up at him, my breath caught in my throat. His eyes shone with lust as the theatre darkened for the previews. I could almost see what he wanted to do. When his eyes flicked to my skirt, I rubbed my thighs together, suddenly self-conscious. I looked away, my breath shaky. The usual theatre message started about turning off your phones and being polite. I couldn't concentrate on that because I felt a rough calloused hand, snaking up my thigh.

Bakugo leaned in, lips lightly touching my ear. "Let me show you how to tease, sweetheart." He whispered.

His hand moved agonizingly slow over the expanse of my thigh. I couldn't hear the damn trailers over my heartbeat. My body was hot and if he got any closer to my pannies he'd know I was soaked. He kneaded my thigh, rubbing his calloused thumb in soft circles while moving closer and closer to my center. The gentle scratching of his rough palms made me shiver. The sensation pulled scenarios from my brain where I felt those hands everywhere. Panic buzzed at the back of my throat because I knew if he touched me, I'd lose it. But I didn't want to lose and I didn't want this game of chicken to end.

He's moving so slow and watching my face. I'm trying to keep a calm mask but I'm breathing way too hard, way too fast. Everywhere he touched sent shockwaves of lust into my body. I fucking wanted him. I get it. I'm crazy too, he's driving me crazy too. His hand edged closer and closer until he's right there . He moved his pinky and all of a sudden it's like cold water is doused on me.

Different hands.

Smoother.

Thinner.

Completely unwanted.

Hopeless. He won't stop. He never stops.

A calloused hand touched my cheek and I looked at Bakugo, tears welling in my eyes. I looked down and I saw my hands death-gripping his. Blood was starting to form where my nails were digging in. I let go, feeling embarrassment wash over me. There are at least seven people between me and the nearest bathroom. Seven people between me and pretending this didn't happen.

Fuck I'm gonna cry

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

"I'm sorry." Bakugo murmured. "I didn't mean-"

Please DO NOT apologize to me right now, that's gonna make it WORSE.

"It's fine." I said through gritted teeth trying to hold my tears back.

Bakugo winced and withdrew, leaning away from me. I know he's thinking it's his fault. I know there's a misunderstanding happening. But I can't fucking correct it right now. Not without explaining. Not without crying . I might cry anyway. Dammit. My hands shook from the effort of gripping my thighs while I tried so hard to stop those damn drops of water from falling from my eyes. I saw Bakugo lean down from my peripheral. Eye movement means crying, I'm not that curious. A few moments later a black hoodie was gently set in my lap. I glanced over to him, he was looking directly at the screen. Giving me privacy. He quickly glanced at me and then glanced back at the screen.

"I won't look." He said softly.

I think I fucking love him.

I took the hoodie, with shaky hands and let the tears fall. He's not looking, no one is looking at me. I can be a little shameless. I sniffed the hoodie and held it close. It wasn't a Dynamight hug but it was just as good. Better even. The shame-filled thoughts about my brokenness swirled but didn't have any weight next to his kind gesture. My emotions finally settled into a calmer state and I began to enjoy the movie. The main character was starting their journey, a little lost but some people are willing to help.

Then I started crying again because found family shit gets me literally every time. I looked over to Bakugo who was also tearing up. I wish I didn't freak out earlier so I could make fun of him for it. I went back and forth from watching the movie to watching him. Seeing his face go through a range of emotions alone was good enough to pay for. At every shock and twist, I looked at him and his face was exactly what I was feeling. We should watch this movie again, alone, so we can joke around and talk. The movie ended and we all filed out. Bakugo stayed silent, carefully avoiding touching me as we walked out of the theatre. I had to tell him or else he's gonna feel like shit.

"Bakugo." I said, my voice creaky.

He didn't turn around but he stopped. His hands clenched in his pocket.

"Thank you for the hoodie. I really needed it."

He glanced at me, sighed and looked away. "It's the least I could do after..." He trailed off, grimacing.

He looked at me, apology on the cusp of his lips and I held my hand out, stopping him. I took a deep breath, summoning all my gusto which was definitely at less than half tank at the moment.

"Congratulations! You, Good Sir, have unlocked the tragic backstory!" To engage, touch the right hand, to decline touch the left! Clock is ticking!" I announced in a cheery voice.

Bakugo gave me a weird look and touched my right hand. My smile dropped to a much weaker version and I swallowed hard.

"If that's your choice, then we should find somewhere private to talk." I said weakly, not able to keep up the announcer voice.

Bakugo took my hand and walked me to his car. We drove in silence and the more we drove the more I regretted my decision. I could probably back out but, I think I want to say it. I think I need to say it. Finally the car rolled to a stop, at the top of a hill overlooking the city. Bakugo got out and closed the door behind him. I followed suit. He sat down next to the railing at the end of the hill. I did the same. The hill was a beautiful view overlooking the city. I watched cars drive off into the growing sunset and people peacefully living their lives below. I couldn't tell you how long we sat there, whether it was a few minutes or an hour. I was busy debating whether I was really ready to let him know everything. Or if I even could. I wasn't but I'll do what I can.

"Before moving here, I was with my ex for two years." I started, feeling those boxes of emotion started to bubble up. "He...wasn't a good guy."

The wind blew, wafting more of his salty caramel scent towards me. I used that to keep going.

"I don't remember much about the relationship. And when I do, its..really bad. So I try not to think about it." I gripped his sweater.

"So, when I touched you earlier. It reminded you of him?" He said softly. "Do I...remind you of-"

"No." I said firmly. "You're nothing like him. You're..."

Unexpectedly Sweet. Thoughtful. Arrogant. Warm. Easily Irritated. Sexy. Deliberate. Corny. Cheesy. Handsome.

I glanced at him, thoughts of him piling over. A mosaic of things I liked about him swirled in my mind but none of them saying the full story. None of them captured how I really felt. And I can't just spontaneously write a sonnet.

I could troll you forever. You're such a good sport. Great Arms. A smirk to die for. Probably Definitely Kinky. Determined. Smells Great. Sincere. 10/10 hugs.

Everything I could ever want.

"It's an insult you're both considered men to be honest. You're leagues ahead of that guy." I said, leaning against the railing with a small smile.

He laughed and those boxes of emotion started to bubble over as I formed my lips to admit something I haven't ever been able to say. The closest I came to admitting it was when I arrived at Iris' doorstep two years ago bawling my eyes out. I let myself cry but I never let myself admit anything. I squeezed the hoodie, my eyes shining with unshed tears.

"He hurt me." I whispered, my voice cracking.

My mouth twisted into a smile against my will. I thought I got rid of this tic. Those boxes of emotion spilled over, flooding everything.

"He hurt me really bad." My voice shuddered as tears started to fall.

I'm so scared of being weak again. Please don't hurt me please. I won't recover. I still haven't recovered.

"I'm so scared that I'm broken." I whispered, finally admitting to myself one of my greatest fears.

I pulled the hoodie up, so I could sob in peace. Bakugo's hands shyly wrapped around me. Silently and carefully asking permission with every inch he moved until I was fully in his embrace. I cried and cried and when I finally put the hoodie down, it was nightfall. He rubbed his thumb in gentle circles around my arm, patiently waiting for me to be okay. And for the first time in four years I think, at this moment at least, I can say I actually felt okay. I realized I never went into detail but..it doesn't feel like I have to. And I appreciate that.

"I was a hostage in a villain attack once. When I was a student." He said, breaking the silence. "A couple times actually."

I looked up at him, tilting my head. He gave me a small smile.

"When it happened, I tried shoving it down but it eventually caught up to me." He rested his chin on my head. "I didn't want to let you do the same thing. But I can't force you to talk. So, I tried cheering you up. And being around if you needed it."

Getting Hawks to walk me home, the check ins, the corny jokes, this movie. It all makes sense.

"That explains the Gentle Bakugo Experience I've been getting lately." I said with a small smile.

"Can't always be intense." He said.

"Guess so." I agreed.

Bakugo rubbed my back in soothing circles and I looked up at him. He met my gaze. I bit my lip and sighing.

"Can you please kiss me?" I cringed, knowing this isn't smooth at all.

He shifted my body so I was straddling him. I balanced myself with my hands on his hard, defined chest. His hands slid down my torso, leaving a trail of heat as he gripped my hips and scooted me closer. He paused, making sure I was okay before cupping my chin, tilting my head up. He slowly leaned in, the smell of popcorn dusting over my nose until we finally, finally touched lips.

We both paused for a moment like we didn't expect to get this far, then I pushed into the kiss. Shy, vulnerable. He pushed back. Hungry and pleading. I let out a tiny gasp when he bit my lip, he groaned and started rocking his hips. I rocked back, desperate to get any friction to satisfy my growing need. His grip on my hips tightened as his tongue explored my mouth. I pulled back and nibbled on his lip, causing him to buck his hips forward. He shifted my hips forward again until we're grinding into each other. His hands dig into my sides, not leaving that spot. I know why he's doing it but I can't stand it.

"Bakugo." I pleaded softly, while touching his hands.

I moved his hands to my ass and wrapped my hands around his neck. I could feel how much he wanted it too. I was practically riding it, if only the jeans weren't there. He cupped my ass and started guiding my hips to the rhythm he wanted, his control slipping as a low groan escaped his mouth. His mouth drifted to my neck leaving soft kisses until he reached the base. He sucked hard on the spot and gave it a light bite. My body jolted with a gasp and I squeezed him harder with my thighs. He swirled his tongue on the spot, the sensation going straight to my clit.

Bakugo let out a shaky breath and pulled back slightly. "We should stop." He panted.

I lightly bit the base of his neck, his hips buck forward and I felt more of that sweet sweet friction. He growled and lightly pushed me back.

"We're stopping." His breath shuddered.

I know it's the adrenaline and vulnerability causing this but that bit of restraint felt like shit. He wasn't rejecting me, I know that. But it felt like it. I quickly stood up so he couldn't see me tearing up.

"Okay, yea." I said, my voice cracking. I winced. "Got it."

"Y/N, it's not that I don't want to." He quickly said, getting up after me.

"I know, just give me a second." I said quickly before getting in the car and hugging the hoodie.

He walked to the driver's side and opened the door, looking at me with pleading eyes.

"Do you know?" Bakugo said softly.

"I do! Just...give me a minute." My voice cracks again, not helping AT ALL.

He sighed and turned the ignition in his car. We drove in silence and I'm telling myself to chill out. He's just looking out for me. He probably just wants to make sure I'm okay before doing anything like that. It's fine. It's literally fine. He clearly wanted to, he's just being a good guy.

But what if it's because he felt obligated? You just shared your sob story

It's not like that.

But what if it is? What if he felt pressured? What if this was all strictly just to cheer you up?

I felt my heart cave in as I re-examined everything. I know I'm just freaking out but it doesn't stop the thought from creeping up and worming it's way into the cracks. He was clearly interested before all this. In the kitchen we had a moment, he texted cheesy jokes and went out of his way to see me.

What if...now that he knows....you're not worth it anymore?

Taglist: @macaroniwiththechickenstripz

[mistresseast]

Here is my shuake temporary amnesia threadfic I posted to Twitter earlier! Presented to you in screenshots for the full cinematic experience of being spammed with gross fluff on your timeline. The complete text is under the cut in case you don’t want to or can’t wade through all of those images ❤️

The procedure was really simple. Akira’s appendix hadn’t burst or anything, it was just inflamed and the doctor decided to have it removed as a precaution. Nothing to get worked up about, Goro kept telling himself. His husband would be in and out within a day, no hospital stay required.

Akira was all jokes before the surgery, teasing Goro about putting on a nurse’s outfit to take care of him at home, and Goro just said something threatening about suppositories, which earned a cheeky laugh.

It didn’t take long, and the other thieves showed up right as Akira was getting out. He was pretty woozy as the anesthesia wore off, but Goro was just relieved everything had gone perfectly, according to the surgeon.

When Goro comes back, eyes red-rimmed but dry, the thieves are visibly struggling to hold it together. Ryuji is facing the corner, shoulders shaking. Ann and Futaba are clinging to each and Haru has her hand over her mouth. Makoto is holding her head like she has a headache.

Except when Akira is coherent again, he’s...weird. He keeps avoiding Goro’s eyes and he barely responds to the others when they speak to him. Goro tries to take his hand, and he locks up, going pale. The others just watch, looking awkward, and Goro excuses himself, suddenly feeling ill.

Akira is sitting up in bed, beaming.

“What happened?” Goro asks.

Sumi smiles innocently. “Nothing.”

Goro eyes them all with suspicion. “The neurologist will be here soon to clear him for discharge.”

“Great,” Ann squeaks.

“Somehow, I do not think--” Yusuke starts before two of the others shush him.

Well, that’s weird, but when are the thieves not weird? Goro is more interested in Akira, who’s staring at him with a crooked grin.

“Feeling better?” Goro asks, retaking his seat.

“I am now that you’re here,” Akira says, flashing him a wink.

Goro squints at him. “Are you sure? You were pretty out of it earlier. I can go get a doctor—”

“That was nothing,” Akira insists. “I was just surprised to wake up to someone so pretty waiting at my bedside.”

“Oh is that what it was.” Rolling his eyes, Goro sits forward to guide Akira back down against the pillows. “You shouldn’t be sitting up. You’ll pop your stitches.”

“Yes, sir.” Akira lies back obediently and catches Goro’s hand when he tries to pull away. “I can think of some more fun ways to pop them, anyway. Are you free later?”

Goro stares at him while Futaba lets out a hysterical giggle and Makoto mumbles something.

“You think you’re so cute,” Goro says eventually. “The doctor said to hold off on that for at least a week.”

"Oh, right." Akira hitches up his coy smile. "What's your schedule like in a week, then?"

Cheeks warm, Goro cuts his eyes to the others, who are all studiously avoiding looking at the bed. "What's gotten into you?" he scolds. Akira is never this…overt in public.

Akira's smile droops. "I...sorry, I—" He flicks a glance at the others as well, and Goro catches Ann giving an encouraging little hand wave.

"What?" Goro directs at her. "Is something wrong?"

She shakes her head quickly, eyes wide and glittering.

"Everything's fine," Akira insists. "I was just...uh, wondering if, after I'm recovered, you'd like to grab some coffee or something?"

Goro furrows his brows at him. "You realize that's a ridiculous question, right? What are you playing at?"

"But—you—" Frowning, Akira darts a look down at the ring encircling Goro's fourth finger, then over at the rest of his friends. "You guys—"

Futaba bursts out laughing and Ryuji nearly keels over from the force of his own elated wheezing. Makoto pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Sorry," Akira mumbles, releasing Goro's hand, cheeks red. "I guess they thought it'd be funny to play a trick on a sick person."

"A trick?" Goro repeats blankly.

"Of course you're already taken, someone as hot as you—" Akira scrubs a hand through his hair. "I saw your ring but they said it wasn't—you weren't—"

Realization clicks in Goro's head and he angles a glare at the others, which apparently breaks the final seal because the remaining thieves, minus Makoto, dissolve into helpless giggling.

"I'm really sorry," Akira continues, oblivious. "If I knew, I wouldn't have hit on you, but you're just so...and when I woke up and saw you being so nice to me, I thought, you know—" he grimaces. 

"Oh my god." Goro rubs his temples.

"When you left, I asked them if you were single and they said yes, but they were just taking me for a ride." Akira scowls at the others. "Not cool, guys."

Futaba snorts. She has her phone out and pointed at them but Goro can't worry about that at the moment. "Akira, how much do you remember right now?"

Akira shrugs. "Everything's pretty hazy. I figured you all had to be my friends since you don't look like family and you were all really happy when I woke up, but I can't remember the specifics. That happens with anesthesia sometimes, right?"

"Yes, it—" Goro breaks off on a sigh.

"Look, I'm really sorry again," Akira says earnestly, "—and I hope this doesn't make things awkward with us, but I just wanna say that I hope whoever you're with knows how lucky they are."

"Oh, they do," Ryuji pipes up. "They never shut up about it!"

The others all snicker and Goro wishes he was close enough to elbow Ryuji in the gut.

"Good." Akira smiles sadly, putting Goro in mind of a kitten left in the rain. "Who is it, anyway? Do I know them?"

Goro makes a strained noise in the back of his throat. "Akira, it's you."

Akira blinks. "What?"

Digging in his pocket, Goro produces a simple silver band and grabs Akira's hand. "You're the person I'm with, we're married—" he slides the ring into Akira's unresisting finger. "And your friends are all assholes."

Akira stares slack-jawed at his ring. "Wait, really?" He glances between Goro and the others. "Really?"

Goro nods with another sigh while the others struggle to compose themselves.

"Sorry," Ann says, at least looking a little contrite. "When we realized he didn't remember you, we just couldn't resist."

"We owe you," Sumi titters. "Please don't be mad! We'll make it up to you!"

"You absolutely will," Goro grumbles, already planning just how he's going to make the thieves pay for this.

"Hang on—" Akira snags Goro's hand again, eyes shining. "We're really married?"

"Yes," Goro answers patiently. "For nearly two years."

"Holy shit," Akira marvels. "How did I manage that?"

"Here we go," Futaba groans.

Goro shoots her a warning look before reaching over and smoothing Akira's fringe off his forehead. "Hopefully you'll remember that on your own soon." He doesn't really want to recount the whole operatic series of events.

Akira leans shamelessly into the touch, a dopey smile growing on his face. 

The neurologist assures them that Akira's brain is fine and that this kind of disorientation is common after general anesthesia. Nevertheless, he stays in the hospital until his memories start returning.

"Look at it this way," Ann suggests while Akira hides his face in embarrassment and Goro signs his discharge papers. "Now you both know that Akira's not just into you because you tried to kill him."

Goro still isn't pleased with the thieves, but he's starting to see the humor in the situation. "That's definitely a load off my mind. Though now I'll have to rethink our anniversary plans."

Akira whines something that sounds like "please stop"

"I did quite enjoy hearing about how hot I am, though."

Akira lowers his hands, pouting petulantly. "I tell you that all the time."

"You should remind me more often."

"Oh?" Some familiar impishness sparks in Akira's gaze. "So you like when I praise you?"

"Your memories must still be hazy because that's not a secret."

"Please don't do this," Makoto begs.

Laughing, Akira ignores her and makes grabby hands at Goro. Smirking, Goro sets his clipboard aside and leans forward, allowing Akira to pull him into a kiss.

It's just as sweet as always.

[mimisempai]

Let the magic of my love take care of you

Summary :

Five times where Loki takes care of Mobius with the help of magic and once where he doesn't need it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32777188

2311 words - Rating G

1.

"Hey here!" Loki said softly as he entered Mobius' office.

"Loki!"

"I've come to give you my report on the mission with the new recruits." continued Loki as he came to sit across from Mobius.

"I'm listening."

If anyone entered the office at this moment, there would be no indication that the two men were a couple.

But if one stayed, he would see the way their fingers brushed against each other as Loki gave Mobius the file he held in his hands, the way Mobius moved his chair closer so their knees touched, or the closer than necessary distance between their heads when Loki pointed out a detail on the papers spread out before them.

All these small gestures were evidence of their relationship, but only visible to those who knew them.

Once he finished his report, Loki stood up. His gaze fell on Josta's open can on a corner of Mobius' desk.

"How long ago did you open it?"Loki asked him.

"This morning," Mobius answered before shrugging his shoulders.

Loki took the can in his hand, which gradually turned blue, the color of his Jotun skin.

He kept it for a few seconds and then put it back under Mobius' curious look. On the can you could see the droplets of steam caused by the drink, which was now cold.

He leaned towards Mobius and said softly, "I know you prefer to drink it cold..."

Then as he got up he winked at him before turning and heading for the door.

He turned around one last time, and said, "See you later." Before closing the door behind him under the amazed look of Mobius.

2.

"Papers, papers, always papers! I can't take paperwork anymore!" Mobius threw his pen towards the door, but he didn't hear the sound it should have made as it smashed against it. He looked up to see Loki had just entered his office and caught the pen in mid-air.

"Are you tired of me already that you want to eliminate me?" asked Loki with a teasing smile on his face.

"Aaah Loki... shit, lunch! The cafeteria! I forgot about it! I'm sor-"

"Hey, hey, it's okay Mobius, Casey told me you probably wouldn't show up, seeing as how the last time he saw you the files were piling up on your desk." replied Loki as he walked over to him.

"That doesn't stop me from being sorry."

Loki shook his head, "It's not like we'll never get another chance, and honestly what worries me the most is not that you didn't come, but the fact that you're missing out on a meal again."

Mobius protested, "It's okay I-"

Loki stopped him with a hand, "But as a devoted companion, I thought of you and... tada...!"

Loki twirled his hand and amidst the green swirls appeared... a bowl of salad, which he placed on Mobius' desk after making room.

Mobius couldn't help but laugh as he recognized the bowl of salad.

"What are you doing?"

"...your salad is Asgard in this scenario."

"No, it's not Asgard, that's my lunch."

"It's a metaphor. Just hang in there."

" I want that salad."

"I understood that this dish was your preference."

Mobius replied, raising an eyebrow, "Last time, that didn't stop you from adding salt, pepper and whatever else to it to prove your theory. With a metaphor that by the way was at least as bad as the dagger one..."

"Hey, I was right anyway, well about the salad not the dagger..."

Mobius gave him a knowing smile. He had seen the conversation between Loki and Sylvie.

"Love is a dagger." Loki made appear a dagger before continuing, "It's a weapon to be wielded far away or up close. You can see yourself in it. It's beautiful. Until it makes you bleed. But ultimately, when you reach for it…"

Loki offers the hilt to Sylvie. She reaches to take it, but the dagger disappears.

"It isn't real."

"It's real."

"It is, yes," Loki replied, then kissed him tenderly before walking away. As he closed the door, however, he threw out in a serious tone, "Don't forget to eat your salad."

Mobius smiled at his words, who would have thought his lover had a mother-hen side?

3.

"A planet where it rains all the time! Guys... remind me to put this on the checklists of things to verify before teleporting to a planet: 'Check the weather.'"

Mobius had just passed the time-door, soaked like a drowned rat. They had been on a mission to search for someone on an unknown planet where apparently there was only one sort of weather :  rain.

He hated it, his suit was sticking to his skin and he was starting to feel the wetness and cold penetrate his bones. He could not hold back a shiver.

Suddenly he saw a green light enveloping him from head to toe.

Little by little the feeling of cold and dampness disappeared and was replaced by a feeling of warmth and comfort. He was now dry.

He looked up to see Loki coming towards him, as a last green swirl faded from his hands.

Loki stopped in front of him, "I have a feeling that this mission was a pain in the ass, right?"

Mobius replied, "You know my love of rain."

Then he stopped, waved his hand to show himself, and added, "Thanks for that."

Mobius was always pleasantly surprised by Loki's little attention, but even more so by the fact that it showed how well he knew and cared about Mobius.

Unfortunately they were in one of the most crowded hallways of the TVA so Mobius couldn't show his appreciation as he would have if they were in the privacy of their apartment. However, he couldn't help but touch Loki and put his hand on his arm, squeezing lightly and said again in a gentle tone, "Thank you, really."

Loki replied with the same smile by simply nodding and placing his hand on Mobius’ hand, he said gently, "My pleasure, for you, always."

4.

Mobius was staring at the papers in his hands, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He was about to do something, to write something, but he couldn't remember.

"Mobius? Since when do you bring home work."

Loki's voice as he entered their living room pulled Mobius from his thoughts. He blinked his eyes. "I have to finish this, and I'd rather finish it here." He mumbled, his voice hoarser than usual.

Loki said to him in a slightly annoyed tone, "Did you hear your raspy voice? Did you see your face? You better get some rest."

"I absolutely must finish this."

"Really? When you seem to be having trouble even keeping your eyes open?", Loki insisted.

"I'm fine," Mobius replied.

Exasperation was now evident in Loki's voice, "Only you believe it. Even your colleagues have noticed!"

"I'm fine!"

"Mobius," Loki sighed.

"I'm fine," Mobius repeated. "Just let me fin-..."

A coughing fit interrupted him. He coughed so hard it felt like his lungs were being torn apart.

"That's enough," Loki said in a voice that had no return.

Loki took his file out of his hands, grabbed Mobius' hands, made him stand up and pulled him behind him.

"Hey! Loki!"

Loki ignored him and pulled him towards their room.

"Loki!" Mobius coughed violently again. He felt exhausted all of a sudden and feeling himself spinning, he clung to Loki's hand.

"Mobius, you're burning up!" exclaimed Loki in a panicked tone.

Mobius shivered, as if to confirm what Loki had just noticed. "Are you cold?"

"Yes, and warm."

Loki carefully sat him down on their bed. "The important thing is to get your love fever down, okay?"

He helped him put on his pajamas with gentle touches and carefully laid him down under the blanket.

Mobius' eyes were still open and he suddenly saw Loki in his Jotun form.

"Loki? Did you just transform or am I having a gorgeous hallucination."

Loki chuckled affectionately, "Oh love, only you would call me a gorgeous hallucination when I have this form. But no, it's real. Do you trust me?"

"Even with a raging fever, yes and even unconditionally."

Loki smiled again, and went to join him. He laid behind Mobius, and wrapped his arms around him, without putting too much strength into it, and put one of his cool hands on his forehead.

Mobius breathed a sigh of relief, "Ahhh that feels good. Thank you my love." then he felt himself being swept away by exhaustion, only aware of the cool sensation around him

He woke up a few hours later, much better than before. Loki was still wrapped around him. He turned around and noticed that Loki had returned to his normal appearance.

"You've joined the living world?" asked Loki with a smile.

"Thanks to you," Mobius replied in a still hoarse voice, running a finger over Loki's face before continuing, " No longer blue?"

Loki was surprised at Mobius' almost disappointed expression. He was still a little unsettled by the fact that Mobius loved his Jotun appearance as much as his current one.

"The fever has dropped enough."

Mobius moved a little closer and pressed a tender kiss to his lips.

"Thank you for having taken care of me, Sweetheart."

Loki put a kiss on his nose before replying, "I assure you that the pleasure was all mine love."

5.

Mobius dreamed of Ravonna, of her face at the moment she said, "Prune him" without hesitation and he disappeared.

That's when he woke up as he often does, sweating and gasping for breath. He ran his hands over his body, just to make sure he was there and alive. His chest ached under the rapid beating of his heart.

Mobius, still in his nightmare, struggled at first against Loki's comforting hands and warm voice, unable to calm his breathing that threatened to cause panic. He made a move to escape, but Loki's fingers caught his wrist before he could go anywhere.

Once Mobius let go, Loki brought their heads together, cradling him, their noses almost touching until Mobius' breathing slowly returned to normal

Mobius kept repeating, "I don't want to disappear, I want to live." and Loki would nod and whisper words of comfort and reassurance in return.

After a few minutes, Loki asked softly, "Mobius, do you want me to erase these images from your mind? I wouldn't erase the memory, only the residue of your nightmare."

Mobius tightened his arms around Loki and nodded, "Yes... please..."

He put his fingers on Mobius' temple and closed his eyes, concentrating on the images he was sending into Mobius' mind, images of beaches, jet skis, sun and warmth.

Then Loki squeezed him and Mobius buried his head further into Loki's chest and, in a hushed tone, he heard Loki suggest that he concentrate on the slow, loud sound of his heartbeat.

Mobius let himself be lulled by the soft beat as Loki's hands now caressed his hair. He vaguely heard Loki's voice whisper something, "It only beats for you."

Before he could respond, sleep claimed him, and this time filled with dreams of warmth and love

+1

"Oh Mobius, you're bleeding," Loki said, taking a deep breath as the wizard entered the living room. It was late at night, Mobius had been on a mission that had lasted much longer than expected.

Loki approached him, "Let me see."

Mobius turned away and protested, "No, I'm going to put on a little bandage in the bathroom and I'll be fine.."

Loki replied, "Don't be stupid, let me take care of you before you spill your blood all over the apartment."

"What a drama queen!"

"Hey!"

Mobius, obediently sat down on the couch. With calm and sure hands, Loki carefully turned Mobius' arms from side to side and was relieved to find only a superficial cut. A moment later, he returned with compresses, disinfectant and a bandage.

Sitting down next to Mobius, he took the arm in one hand and began to clean the cut with the disinfectant.

Mobius hummed at the relief the treatment brought him, after enduring the rubbing of his shirt all day. He closed his eyes under the pleasant sensation.

"My poor love," Loki said in a low voice, "does it hurt?"

"I've had worse," Mobius replied. He heard Loki soak another compress, then felt it on his arm again, Loki methodically cleaning the cut again.

"I know that, but that doesn't mean you don't have the right to talk about your pain."

A moment later, Mobius felt Loki's fingers on his face, his thumb gently caressing his cheek. His lover's face was so close that he could feel his breath on his lips.

As his fingers left his face, Mobius opened his eyes again.

He watched as Loki grabbed the bandage and began to wrap it around his arm. When he finished, Loki set everything aside on the coffee table and pulled Mobius with him to the couch.

They sat in silence for a while, one against the other with Mobius' injured arm around Loki's shoulders after Loki made sure it didn't hurt.

"Do you know what my mother used to do when I got hurt as a child?" he asked Mobius, and without waiting for an answer continued, "she would kiss on my wound and tell me it would help the healing."

Mobius could hear the tender, wistful tone as he did every time Loki spoke of his mother.

"My wound is well treated now, but I wouldn't mind a kiss." replied Mobius with a teasing tone.

"You know I would do anything to make you feel better, my love." With that Loki turned to him, "Let me kiss it better." Then he leaned over Mobius and kissed him gently.

And not surprisingly, Mobius felt much better.

_______

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰